Home Planet: Arcadia (Part 3)

by Sedgwick, T. J.

  “They started five minutes ago,” said the fifty something woman sitting next to Laetitia.

  I nodded my thanks and listened to Baas speak.

  “We’ve all heard your proposal, Kale and I thank you for being so clear in your explanations,” said Council Leader Baas, formally. “First, I felt it only fair that I state my personal position on the proposed project and the eventual mission to Aura. While there are risks, my family and I will be boarding that spacecraft when it leaves. We believe it is what’s right for us and for all those who wish to join us. I believe in throwing all the resources we can muster—both physical resources and those of the Forever World—into this endeavor. Councilor Patton’s motion to deny Project Phoenix any resources is shortsighted in my view. His rationale…”

  He looked down at his notes on the table in front of him.

  “His rationale that it distracts us from our real mission, here on Hawaii, to rebuild civilization and expand the Forever World and wastes resources on a fools’ errand are, in my opinion, misguided.”

  He continued talking, but essentially Baas was behind Project Phoenix and would do all in his power to support it.

  He finished up by saying, “If Councilor Patton and others of his view do not wish to come, then they are within their rights to stay. But they should not prevent those of us who dream of fulfilling a different future.”

  Baas sat down to murmurs around the room. No sooner he did, than Kale Patton arose. I thought he was done already. Obviously not.

  “Mr. Chairman, if I may respond,” he said to Baas who nodded.

  Patton sat two chairs to Baas’s left, facing the public area. His glower and furrowed forehead were plain for all to see as he stared at Baas.

  “It is not a dream for us to reach the Forever World, it is an expectation, a right. The World represents immortality and you know as well as I do that few will give it up to board a ship that killed over twelve thousand colonists. That is the one thing we seem to agree on—no Forever World, no mission to Aura. Depriving the many of the Forever World to encourage them to get on that cursed ship will be a travesty with your name on it, Leon.”

  Baas shook his head but didn’t interrupt.

  Patton continued, his annoyed tone lifting somewhat. “As my proposal says, if we can use the ship wisely, bring its resources to Earth, then we can improve our city and the entire Hawaiian chain. We can found new cities and will have enough food to grow the population and grow the food supply.”

  Essentially, he didn’t think Project Phoenix would work and that wasting resources trying was unfair to those who weren’t interested in going. Maybe he had a point. Getting the Juno functional would be fraught with challenges. And it would take a lot of manpower and material from a civilization that didn’t have oodles to spare.

  Finally, he sat down and gave way to the diminutive Aulani Ito. I’d heard Baas and Patton speak in hushed tones. The political class was alive and well even here. Not for the first time, it confirmed politicians’ love of hearing their own voices.

  “We shouldn’t decide for the people,” said Aulani, calmly. “They should be allowed to vote.”

  The Councilor for Science and Tech explained the rationale of her referendum idea. Apparently, it was quite common to call snap plebiscites here. It was a compromise between Baas’s and Patton’s positions. Patton shook his head throughout. He was having none of it, but it wasn’t just up to him. Aulani’s speech was nearing its end and when she sat, I stood, clearing my throat over the discussion. All eyes fell on me, including those of Baas.

  “Yes, Mr. Luker? You have something to add?”

  “Sit down,” said Patton. “You’re not a council member; this is not your time to speak.”

  “It is if I invite him to,” countered Baas. “You are hereby invited to speak,” he said with a nod and a brief smile.

  “Thanks. You know, I’ve been thinking these things through myself. It’s a big ask, there’s no doubt about it. You guys have built something pretty special here under the circumstances. You don’t wanna lose that, I get it. But what you need to understand is that your civilization is vulnerable. It’s small by historical comparison and maybe one failed season away from starvation. So—”

  Patton got up and said, “And that’s exactly why we need the ship’s stores of food!”

  He smiled and sat down, probably thinking I agreed with him. I didn’t.

  “Right, so you take the food from the Juno, use it as an emergency store. Great. But it won’t last forever and what happens when it’s no longer there, even if that’s in a decade’s time? What the mission to Aura represents, is a permanent presence on another planet. When I set off in 2070, it was the second Earthlike planet, now it’s the only one. If the tables had been turned and we’d detected this frozen Earth from Aura we wouldn’t have come here. Too barren, too lifeless, too cold. The Juno is the one chance we humans have left. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.”

  Patton stood up again, this time stony-faced.

  “Mr. Luker, you are willing to throw away your place in the Forever World, your chance to live eternally and be with your family?”

  “I don’t think we’ll need to,” I said as surprise washed across his face and others.

  “Please explain…”

  “The Juno Ark’s computers are far more powerful that what you have in the Hive. There must be a way of copying the Forever World and all of its inhabitants. With a Forever World Two, we’ll get the mandate we need from the people.”

  “Even if that’s possible, I still think it’s a fools’ errand,” said Patton. “Besides, if it’s true about the Juno’s wondrous computers then we should use them to enhance the Forever World. It’s one of our top priorities and places there are strictly limited because of the lack of computing capacity. We could even grow the world and re-initiate some of the stored world files. We know we can do this and we know the people will support it. Neither of those things is true of Aura.”

  He waved me dismissively away and sat down, his arms folded tightly.

  This guy’s not for turning, I thought. Thankfully, it wasn’t just up to him.

  “Look, we need at least two thousand colonists for the population to self-sustain. Without it, genetic diseases will be rife and we’ll be too vulnerable to collapse. Now I appreciate that’ll also make Hawaii slightly more vulnerable too—after all you only have ten thousand people yourselves. I agree with Aulani—we must give the people the facts, and only then take a vote. It’s the only way.”

  Aulani, Baas and several other council members nodded and smiled in support. Patton shrugged. I sat down.

  “Thank you for your input, Mr. Luker,” said Baas. “You have unique insight, so we’re glad you spoke.”

  Yes, but none of you invited me to the chamber, though, I thought.

  I just nodded in recognition and let the politicians do what they do best—debate. I listened with interest, but it was all much as I expected. The council voted six to three to press on with Project Phoenix, but to hold a referendum once we’d resolved the Forever World Two question.

  Laetitia and I left when they moved onto domestic matters—something about what the school should teach in history class. We left them to it and went for a walk around the city. I didn’t want to get caught up in their political maneuverings any more than I had to. Besides, Laetitia seemed more interested in the technical challenges of the mission. We had a lot to resolve and Aura would be years away if we could reach it at all. However it turned out, I’d put everything I could into finishing what I started five hundred and fourteen years ago. We’d only just begun, but I sensed the historic juncture we’d reached. The decisions of a few people now would dictate humanity’s future for millennia to come, possibly forever.

  15

  It’s true that time speeds up when you’re busy. And as you get older. Each passing year represents a smaller part of your life experience. A year to a child is a good percentage of their life. Fo
r a senior, not so much. Just perceptions of time, that’s all it is. One more year after five hundred had to go by in the blink of an eye for Mom and Nikki. Project Phoenix—what would turn out to be a five-year effort—consumed most of my time. I spent all the time allocation I could in the Forever World. That first year I did everything possible to reconnect with Mom and Nikki. Mostly just talking to them. It was easier for me than for them. I’d said farewell two years prior, for them it was over five hundred. But I’d caught them more than once looking back at old home videos and photos, reminding their ancient neural networks of times past, rebuilding faded memories of me, of our family. It would take time, but the fear of them being strangers abated as the months rolled by.

  I got to see the LA Galaxy play at the StubHub Center on the campus of California State University, ten mile south of downtown. It was fortunate the Forever World model extended so far. The Galaxy were set to win the MLS for the third time in five years. Most of the original teams no longer existed in the Forever World—the cities they came from hadn’t made it and neither had many of the players. Nevertheless, new teams had emerged to fill the league. I spent a short vacation taking the train from LA to Chicago. They’d done a good job of the scenery in between. The train couldn’t stop though as it was literally scenery with none of the complex modeling belying the habitable parts of the Forever World. I hung out with Mike Lawrence in Chicago for a couple of days. It was some welcome downtime from the Project Phoenix.

  I didn’t try to contact Juliet. Sure I was tempted, especially in the early months after our brief reunion. But I’d made my mind up that a clean break and time was all that could heal the pain. Stubborn, maybe, but seeing her again would just open old wounds. Didn’t mean I didn’t think about her all the time though. At first, anyway. But as the weeks turned to months and the first year passed, thoughts of her faded slightly. It was still too early to dive into another relationship though. The busy schedule with Project Phoenix helped there. Who knew if it was the best way of dealing with the emotional fallout? It was an unprecedented situation of which we’d both suffered. Busying my mind, worked for me. Whatever heartache Juliet had gone through she’d experienced many centuries ago. She’d certainly seemed to have gotten over it.

  In the real world, I moved into a compact, one-bedroom apartment. Its artisanal construction and lack of mod-cons made it primitive by twenty-first century standards. But I liked it. The third floor place consisted of just three rooms and a balcony overlooking the grass-covered square. It became a relaxing place to sit during the evening on my simple wooden chair with a book and a drink as Dome City life did its thing below. The climate under the dome was just right—Mediterranean, I guess. I could see where the Stayers were coming from at times like those. It didn’t make me one of them though.

  In the first two years we—the Project Phoenix team and I—engaged experts in the Forever World. Houston hadn’t made it, but the aptly-named Dr. Bernard Kosmos had. He’d conducted our welcome lecture at the Johnson Space Center all those years ago. The last time I’d seen Dr. Kosmos, the Earth held billions of people that wouldn’t survive the apocalypse. It was where I’d met Kate Alves who’d come so close to making it, but had died before me on the Juno Ark. Without Dr. Kosmos and his colleagues I don’t know if we would’ve progressed so far. The first year we completed the detailed survey of the damage to Module 2. Laetitia was the other key person. And yes, I had come to think of her as a person. A magnificent, talented, artificial person. Her personality had grown in a good way, once freed of Reichs’s hold. She’d won the respect of many.

  With the help of the Forever World scientists, we confirmed the concept of how we’d bring the Juno back to life. Modules 1 and 3 would be sealed and Module 2 removed. Next, the damaged military module would be cut away then tethered to two shuttles acting as tugs. We’d then remove the module and send it to its fiery demise courtesy of Earth’s atmosphere. The second shuttle we’d got working in late 2585. The detailed design for deuterium plant came the same year, again with the Forever World doing most of the planning work. Then there was restocking of the ship and an endless list of maintenance to do.

  The worst task though was corpse removal. Twelve thousand bodies, all individuals that had set forth with hopes, fears and dreams. They’d been someone’s sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. It was a desperately sad period, which stretched over fourteen months. Tiro helped us identify each of the dead along with their preferences for burial or cremation. He helped compile details on each so we could honor them appropriately. We had a duty to respect their beliefs and their wishes. Each month-end came with a series of burial and cremation ceremonies. Words of remembrance were said for every one of them before they found their final resting place on their home planet. I shed a tear for the ones I had known and for some I hadn’t. For the tall gentle Dutchman, Evert Rietmuller. For the wonderful spirit that was Kate Alves. There were many, many more. Rest in peace my friends.

  Unfortunately, Patton and the Stayers were not ready to give up their fight over the Juno Ark and the population that wanted to depart with her. During a heated council debate, Patton demanded another referendum on the matter. Baas and the Leavers defeated the motion with some skillful politicking, but Patton was not a happy. Our desire to leave was self-determination as far as I was concerned—a fundamental right. There was nothing more Patton and his supporters could do. They’d exhausted their options and had to live with it. We were determined to go Aura and there was nothing Patton could do to stop us.

  Year three arrived and my life had grown roots in both realities. In the Forever World it had become like old times. No more did it seem a strange experience putting on the VR gear and sinking into the simulated world. Now it was like visiting family and friends from out of town. I’d managed to catch up with my old partner Blanco again. Now I had a buddy to go to Galaxy matches with, to pretend to drink beer with. All this raised my spirits immeasurably as the trauma of losing Juliet for the second time receded. As much as I loved the Forever World, the primitive VR gear had become a frustration. Without my full-senses-engagement, biological humans could never fully experience it. Designs existed for direct neural interfaces, but they were not top priority when preparing for the interstellar voyage. Eventually we’d make better VR gear, but making it was a longer-term project. Part of me thought it for the better. I knew what the locals meant when they said the Forever World could be addictive. But labor was an important commodity on Hawaii—we couldn’t spend all day staring into a VR headset.

  Crew selection took place that year—2587. Hundreds of Hawaii’s finest applied for roles from captain of the Juno to the lowliest enlisted job. And that was how I got to know Talia Zoska—the beautiful leader-in-training I’d first met three years before at the Silicon Life Works. Time had only made the twenty-eight year old more delightful in every sense, her auburn hair striking as ever, her green eyes complementing her warm, easy smile. She’d completed her impressive leadership development program and worked her way to the position of rig supervisor leading the geothermal well construction work. It was a vital role for Hawaii since geothermal provided heat and power. New wells were constantly needed as old geothermal reservoirs lost their heat to extraction. She’d also gained experience in the police and as a pilot flying one of the settlement’s light aircraft. Talia beat over two-hundred others for the role of first officer on the Juno Ark. And I was honored when the selection panel chose me as captain of the great ship. Big shoes to fill, but as the only living voyager I had an unfair advantage.

  Project Phoenix continued to progressed. The high bandwidth uplink was established; the Juno’s network was configured to host the second instance of the Forever World. Exabyte upon exabyte of World’s structure sent to the orbiting starship. Aside from a few willing test subjects, uploading the minds of the Forever World wouldn’t happen until just before departure. It was still more than two years away. For those minds that’d accompany u
s on the Juno, it’d be the last two years of life as one entity in what became known as Forever World One. After that, the Forever World Leavers would have an instance on the Silicon Life Works network and another divergent one on the Juno Ark—in Forever World Two. Talk about split personalities. Our ability to create new realities like this made me think long and hard about my own reality. I concluded, not for the first time, that there’s just no way to know what real even is. If you sensed it, then it was real to you. Maybe I was an AI character in some giant video game—self-aware and with agency but with the invisible guiding hand of the player. Sometimes I thought way too deep about things. I never used to be like this, before everything I’d seen. I figured it was a good thing as long as I kept a sense of humor.

  By mid-year the deuterium plant was mostly built. Commissioning and testing would come next. Without the vital element, there would be no fusion and no voyage. After hundreds of hours of spacewalks—many completed by Laetitia—the securing of Modules 1 through 3 was done by late September. Three-quarters of the materials for reconnection of Modules 1 and 3 had been sourced and produced in the 3D fabricators. We were behind schedule, but what did it matter? It wasn’t like the original plan had much of a precedent. For all we knew, Project Phoenix could’ve taken anything from three years to thirty-three years. Or maybe we’d never complete it after all. The Juno Ark was the most complex machine mankind had ever made. Sure, most of it was intact, but there was plenty to go wrong.

  The risk that bothered me most though was not technical. On November 5, 2587, Patton and the more militant Stayers resigned their jobs en masse. He led the dozens of hardcore disaffected who upped sticks, leaving the Dome City. I found it ironic that the Stayers were the one leaving. Nobody knew where they’d gone at first or what their plan was. Rumor had it that Patton had vowed to set up a rival colony on the other side of the island. To me it made no sense. It was winter and they had few resources. Okay, it was nothing like as cold as where Valdus had once ruled, but still … And no access to the Forever World either—an real big deal when the real world is Hawaii and not much else.