by Bob Goddard
“Ah. Yes. We go.” The chief turned his head to the north and raised his chin, indicating the direction they must travel. “Cross river, climb hill. Easy walk.”
As he struggled to get up from the log, Yonaton wondered how just how easy the old boy would find the journey, especially wading through the icy water.
“We can cross the river in the boat, Chief. Then walk along the other side before we climb the hill. Save us getting wet.”
Within minutes they had rowed across the stream taking care not to move out into the estuary where they might be seen from the Pelican. They pulled the boat up the stony shore beneath the cliff and one of the Dasony trackers lifted the chief out as easily as if he were a child. Yonaton asked Mammed to stay and keep an eye on the boat. Not because he thought somebody might take it. He didn’t want the sensitive youth to be upset by what he might see at the burial site.
It was an easy, if slow, walk alongside the stream. They headed inland from the granite cliff until the river turned north. Here the land became strewn with huge piles of rubble and boulders. They picked their way through them following a barely discernible path that led up the slope. Finally they reached a crest where the whole valley lay before them, stretching away into the distance.
After the narrow valley they had walked up from the estuary, the landscape was now dominated by a broad trough, as if a giant hand had scooped it out. In front of them and below lay a placid lake coloured an unnatural powdery blue. Glimmering from the far end of it was a wall of ice, blue and white across most of its face, but grey and black at the sides where rocks lay in profusion.
Yonaton had seen ice cliffs floating on the sea before, but nothing like this. Above the fractured face a rippled ribbon of ice rose up into the mountains. As they stared at it a small fragment fell in slow motion. A few seconds later they heard a distant rumble that ended with a dull boom.
“I hope we don’t have to get too close to that, Yonny my friend,” said Benyamin, who stood with a hand on the captain’s shoulder.
“No,” answered the chief. “We go here. Not far.” He raised his arm to the right, pointing up the steep valley side. Then he spoke to one of the Dasony trackers, who proceeded to hoist the old man onto his back and set off at a quicker pace.
They climbed through the boulder field, over ridges and hillocks until they reached an indent in the valley side. Here the ground levelled out and was covered in grass and tiny flowers, the only greenery in this barren, rocky landscape.
“We stop here, you go see stones,” said the chief as he was lowered to the ground. “Not touch bones, Captain. No Dasony spirits here, but we respect the dead.”
“We won’t disturb the bones, Chief,” Yonaton assured him. “I just want to see these stones you told me about. See if I can work out what they are saying before the Cardinal finds them and smashes them to pieces.”
“We leave you now, Captain.” Chief Masceola stepped forward and grasped Yonaton’s forearms once again. “Come soon. Bring trade.”
“If I can, I will. Thank you Chief.”
Then the old man was hoisted on to the back of another Dasony tracker. They set off down the rock-strewn hillside and were soon out of sight.
Yonaton smiled at Benyamin. “Right Ben. Let’s go take a look.”
* * * * *
Moon, 2087
Will and Tamala were waiting in the Governor’s office when Lian stepped in, three minutes late. She had the dark, baggy eyes of someone who had not slept.
“Very well,” said Nadia, frowning. “Now that we are all here, let’s get started. Tamala, your update please.”
“I took an opinion sample of the Biosphere workers this morning,” she said. “The majority are confident the comet will be deflected and we will get supplies in a month’s time. Their main concerns are shortages of favourite foods and frustration over the five-minute vidcall time limit. However a few – in fact nine of the fifty three I interviewed this morning – fear that the comet might not be deflected. They are worried about their families back home. I have asked the doctor if she can prescribe something to calm their nerves and help them sleep.
“I have also invited them to attend my yoga and meditation sessions and most have said they will. There will be a similar proportion among the rest of the colonists who are not coping well. So can we all keep an eye open for anyone who appears to be distressed? If you will let me know, I can offer them some help and, if necessary, refer them to Doctor Rozek.
“The scientists reassigned to the farm are generally happy to have a change of scenery and duties. There was, of course, the unfortunate accident.” She turned to look at Lian Song, but the Biosphere boss was studying her feet, her glossy black hair hiding her face. “However, Mr Magrini was in good spirits when I saw him with Doctor Rozek a few minutes ago.
“I have also reviewed the news media in the past hour. Tonight’s launch of the deflection mission is the main story, as you would expect, but there is no negative speculation. I think an international agreement must have been reached to control the media for the sake of law and order. Some countries have imposed limits on supermarkets following panic-buying and stock-piling of certain commodities. But otherwise no reports of public disorder. That’s it for now, Nadia.”
“Thank you, Tamala,” said the Governor. “Now, Lian, what do you have to tell us?”
The Chinese woman cleared her throat, looked up at Nadia and said, “I am responsible for the accident today, when the Italian man broke his arm. I wasn’t supervising properly the new people—”
“Nonsense!” barked Sokolova. “You can’t be everywhere, watching over all the workers on the whole farm! I was present when you gave your safety briefing this morning. You said: ‘Carry little, go often. Don’t get caught out by mass. It’s more than you think in the Moon gravity.’ So, how can you be responsible for a foolhardy man who didn’t heed your warnings?”
“I… I thought it was my fault…” Lian was staring at her feet now.
“Lian. Look at me, please.” The Governor’s tone was softer now. “It was not your fault. When we have finished here I will go with you to the medical centre and Mr Magrini can tell you himself.”
“Oh.”
“So, no more blaming yourself, okay? Now, how are things progressing on the farm?”
“Well…” Lian brightened visibly. “Quite well, really.” She nodded to herself but didn’t elaborate.
Nadia frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
Lian looked up, as if surprised by the question. “Oh, yes! We have reassigned half of tube 37 to meat production. The staging has been cleared, new power supplies installed and some of the propagators are ready to start work.” She looked at Will, who nodded to her.
“We have fourteen more propagators on order from the engineering department,” she said. “They could be ready in two days. I have started bringing embryonic stem cells of chicken, rabbit and sheep out of their cryogenic storage state. We should be okay to start meat production in 48 hours.”
“That is good news, Lian,” said Nadia. “When will these meats be ready for harvesting?”
“Oh, long time! Sorry. First stage very slow. At least four or five weeks before we can take any meat from the propagators. And then only small amount. After that it will be more consistent: up to three kilos per week after two months, I hope.”
Nadia did some rapid mental arithmetic. Trying to feed 300 people with 3 kilos of meat per week would be desperately inadequate. Ah well, they had to start somewhere. “And what other protein can we produce in the meantime, Lian?”
“We have some fungi under way, which will start to provide protein in fourteen days. And soya, chickpeas, lentils and other pulses, which we can modify to accelerate growth. They can yield a harvest in six to seven weeks.”
“I see,” said the Governor. “I think we will have to ration our existing protein stocks further.”
“We have been sowing a new, fast-growing rice variety this aftern
oon,” said Lian. “That should be ready to harvest in six weeks. But it all takes time. Even with increased heat and light, which can produce earlier crops, the nutritional values reduce. I’m sorry.” she looked away from Nadia’s face as if ashamed.
“Apologies are not necessary, Lian. Nobody anticipated this, not even me, and it is my job to plan for all eventualities.”
“I did have another idea,” Lian said, looking brighter.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Fish.”
“Fish?”
“Yes, fish. If we have enough water to spare, and if Will can make suitable tanks, there are some little Amazonian river fish which provide good protein. They eat algae, which we can produce easily, and they mature in six weeks. We have three thousand fertilized eggs for this species in cryostore, according to my inventory. I can have these ready for an incubation tank today. But I would need ten tanks of one hundred litres each in eight days time to transfer them to.”
“I think we can do that,” said Cooper. “The current plass production is for photo-voltaic panels. Should have the first batch done end of tomorrow. Can swap to five mill’ for a short run, then mould that into tanks. Need pumps, of course, but we can adapt hydroponic controls, I guess. Five days…six max.”
“Very good. Thank you, Will. And thank you, Lian. Amazonian fish soup could be very welcome a few weeks from now.”
“But we could be resupplied in four weeks,” said Tamala, “then all this would be unnecessary, wouldn’t it?”
Nadia looked at her with pursed lips for a few seconds before replying. “Of course, that is our hope, Tamala. If supplies return to normal in four weeks, then what we are doing now will prepare Armstrong Base for any eventuality in the future. It is a safety issue that should have been addressed long ago.
“But if the comet cannot be deflected, then there is no telling when we will be resupplied. In that case, what we are doing now will keep us all alive. Complacency is not an option, Tamala.”
“Yes, of course,” said the African woman with a sigh. “I have spent most of the day telling everyone there is nothing to worry about. I have ended up convincing myself too. The power of repeated affirmation…”
“Then you have done a good job, Tamala,” said Nadia. “As you said yesterday, the mental state of the colony is equally important for our survival. Now, Will, apart from some fish tanks, how are things progressing?”
“We’ve made a good start,” he said. “The new farm tube is in place and the electrics, fluid pipes and ducting are all in. The access ports are installed but I’ve gotta run the pressure checks and emergency door tests. I aim to get that done right after this meeting, before the crew quits for the day.
“Then we can bury it tomorrow, get it up to full atmosphere by midday and get a team in there rigging walkways and benches, lights and power outlets. Be a couple more days, then Lian’s people can be in there planting up.”
He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his hair. “The plass plant is running at full capacity, sixteen hours a day. We can just manage on solar power at present thanks to the sun shining on Malapert’s broadest flank. Capacity will start to drop off from Monday, but we should be planting more PV panels by then. Hopefully we won’t have to dip in to our fuel-cell reserves too much.
“The Lab Rats… sorry, the new recruits,” he allowed himself a brief smile at the slip, “are getting to grips with equipment and procedures down in Haworth Crater. From tomorrow they will be operating the laser cutting equipment under supervision from the regular crew, which will increase water retrieval.
“Trouble is, with only one operational tractor, we can’t haul water out of there much faster than at present. So I’m planning on getting the old tractor back into service. It was considered too badly beat up to be worth resurrecting, but I enjoy a challenge.” He flashed Nadia a cheesy grin and thought he detected a flicker of response around her eyes.
“Some engineering production can be stepped up a little, but without new machinery or three-shift working, most is near capacity. And I’m still stumped for some components that we don’t have the technology to produce here.” He raised his palms and shrugged his shoulders in an expression of frustration.
“Very well,” said Nadia. “Good progress for our first day, but still a long way to go.”
“Er… there is one more thing I oughta mention,” it was Cooper again. “Something you won’t be quite so happy about.”
She frowned, “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“I was speaking to my partner back in California… and let slip the Chinese mining of the comet thing.”
“What!” The Governor’s face clouded. “After we all agreed to keep that information to ourselves?”
“No! This was before that, right after our twelve o’clock meeting yesterday,” he protested. “I guess I was still buzzing after hearing that the Chi… that a mining foul-up might have caused the comet to change course. I’m real sorry Lian.” He turned to look at the Head of Biosphere, who was staring at him now with wide eyes.
“Well,” said Nadia firmly, “so long as you have told your partner not to divulge that information to anyone, then it will not go any further.”
“Ah, that’s kinda the point,” he said uncomfortably. “When I called to tell her that an hour ago, she’d just been interviewed by a local TV reporter looking for a story…”
“Chyort!” She slapped her desk. “And he got the biggest story of his life!”
“I just checked the Caltel news and there’s no mention of it,” Will said hopefully. “Maybe they decided not to run it, or something?”
“That’s because he is busy selling it to every news outlet on the planet!” Nadia fumed.
“Unless…” said Tamala, trying to offer a crumb of comfort, “Unless this is covered by the restrictions on negative news coverage?”
“Wishful thinking,” said Nadia. “The media is full of speculation over why the comet’s orbit has changed. This won’t just add fuel to the fire, it will be a bombshell.”
“Nadia,” it was the small voice of Lian. “Can I say something please?”
“Yes, Lian.”
“It is me, not Will, who is responsible. Please, don’t be angry with him. I have known about this comet mining for months and this secret caused me big trouble. When I heard it was going to hit the Earth, I was very angry – and very sad – that my country could do this and not tell anybody what it was they had done.
“There have been too many secrets. Too many lies,” Song’s eyes were filling up. “And so much… so much arrogance. This secret needs to be told. Whatever happens next, everybody should know the reason why.”
“Hmm,” Nadia pursed her lips. “A noble sentiment, Lian. But I think there might be problems if the world lays the blame at China’s door. Anyway, the cat is out of its bag… and now we have a tiger on the loose. We will see what happens. And in the meantime we have work to do. I will see you all in the canteen for the launch at 22 hours.” She nodded once. The meeting was over.
* * * * *
Moon, 2087
Cooper stepped out of the Governor’s office, switched his comm back on and found a message waiting. It was ISCOM’s media relations manager, Karl Bergmann in Darmstadt. “Call me as soon as you can, please Will. We have a journalist threatening to break some sensational story unless he can interview you immediately.”
Cooper hit ‘reply’ and continued his long strides down the corridor tube leading to the bottom end of the farm. “I’m here,” he growled.
“Ah! There you are Will. I was concerned. I couldn’t get a reply from you or from Governor Sokolova this past half-hour!”
“That’s because we were in an important meeting, planning the survival of the colony. We sure as hell don’t have time for TV reporters trying to make a fast buck and a name for themselves.” Cooper caught the startled look on the face of a colonist passing the other way and realised he’d raised his voice in anger.
/> “OKAY! Okay. Sorry if this caught you at a bad time, Will. The problem is this TV guy has some crazy story about Chinese mining on the Comet Santos and he seemed to think you knew all about it.”
“Yeah, I know about it. It’s true, the Chinese were mining the comet and maybe that had something to do with its change of course. But it’s the Chinese he needs to speak to, not me. And not my partner, Ginny in California, either.” Cooper had just realised that if they were chasing him, they would probably be giving Ginny a hard time too.
“Can you contact her for me please and tell her to expect the world’s media camped out on her doorstep. Perhaps she can move someplace quiet for a day or two, until the storm blows over.”
“The storm blows over?” The ISCOM media man sounded incredulous. “You’re not seriously telling me that the Chinese are responsible for this comet crisis, are you?”
“No, I’m not telling you anything. I’ve already said too much. And I’m sure not speaking to the media. You need to talk to Governor Sokolova to get the inside track on this. And please, before you do that, call Virginia Antoine in Monterey and warn her first, can you?”
“Okay, Will. But the whole world is going crazy over this so-called ‘natural disaster’ and praying to God for deliverance. I can’t imagine what will happen if they think the Chinese caused it…”
“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. Who knows? Just call Ginny for me, would you? Tell her to go stay with a friend or something until the heat dies down. Then have a word with the Governor and find out how to play it with the media. It’s outta my hands now. I got nothing further to say to anyone on this subject.”
Cooper punched ‘end’ on his comm screen a little harder than necessary and set off at a loping run for the bottom end of the farm and the new tube that needed pressure testing. This whole stupid business was beginning to get to him.
* * * * *
Earth, 1504
Mammed had resisted for as long as he could, but the granite cliff finally won. He’d noticed it when they arrived that morning and tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help stealing quick glances at its enticing craggy face while he gathered wood and tended the fire.