AMERICA ONE - NextGen (Book 5)

by WADE, T I

  “That I cannot offer you when we leave,” replied Ryan, knowing where the discussion was going. He knew that several countries wanted him, or at least one of his spaceships, to stay orbiting the planet. He explained that it wasn’t possible, and no, he wasn’t going to teach anybody on Earth how to make their own spaceships, or his means of protection, or lasers of mass destruction. He did offer Doug one chance though.

  “There could be one system that I might allow you to have, if you signed off that you would never use it for warfare, only for electrical power and defense, Doug,” Ryan suggested. Doug looked at him inquisitively. “Ever wanted a working Cold Fusion plant?”

  “We would give you Tasmania for that,” Doug suggested, his face white. If Ryan knew how to work Cold Fusion, something the world hadn’t mastered, then what else did he know?

  “It is not a big plant, just enough power to equal powering up a couple of aircraft carriers, but I’m sure your scientists would be able to design future systems from it,” offered Ryan.

  “Do you know how it would help us or any country?” Doug asked. Ryan indicated that he didn’t. He wasn’t that expert on world technology anymore. A decade of the space vacuum had dampened his memory.

  “For starters—and I’ll be brief, Ryan—first of all, it will eliminate all our city air pollution or smog which causes many health problems in our country. Also, it will greatly reduce the cost of our industrial production, transportation costs, construction costs, mining costs for our minerals, dissolve the need for coal mining, greatly reduce costs on food production, and the cost of food for our people. Even allow water desalination in rural areas. It will make cheap electricity available for everybody, and we won’t need to import oil, and my biggest bitch: end this horrible need for fracking in our country, something we had to turn to once our imports were destroyed. Ryan, it will mean a totally new world and economy for us and New Zealand and our surrounding countries, eliminating the need for the electric power grid, and the blackouts that are getting more and more common. I will give you anything you want for Cold Fusion.”

  “A nice private island somewhere with full title deed,” smiled Ryan, now committed, “and your promise that you will leave my new island alone but will protect it from other countries, and that you will never use this technology in starting a war against another country.”

  Doug, still white-faced and not believing what had been offered for so cheap, nodded his head in agreement. “I will head back and get you what you want in legal agreements, plus a list of possible islands as soon as I return. I had better be leaving. May I ask, where is this Cold Fusion plant you are offering?”

  “About 300 miles above you, and I will get it down when we are ready,” Ryan replied.

  “A whole Cold Fusion plant in space?” Doug asked, again shocked. Ryan smiled.

  “It is only the size of a small coffin, but far more powerful that an atomic bomb.”

  “They say that all good things come in small packages,” said Doug.

  For another hour they chatted, until Jonesy’s Gulfstream screamed down the runway, interrupting everybody’s train of thought. Doug couldn’t wait to get back to Canberra. His jet left an hour later once two F-18s headed overhead to escort him back to the country’s capital.

  Jonesy had a smile on his face. Life was currently perfect for him. He had his parents in the cabin behind relaxing, his wife sitting in the copilot’s seat, and he was standing behind Saturn, who was actually piloting the Gulfstream.

  “Give us a slow turn to the left,” he ordered his daughter. “Excellent. Now a slow turn to the right. Perfect. Climb to 40,000 feet at 500 feet a minute.”

  “We had better fly gently, Saturn,” added Maggie. “I think Grandpa is having a cup of coffee in the back.”

  Saturn, Mars Noble and Lunar Richmond had already completed 50 hours of spaceflight training in the simulator up in the mother ship during the return journey to Earth, but this was Saturn’s first practical atmospheric flight.

  They were over the vast Indian Ocean, had full tanks and all the time in the world. Most new pilots learned on Cessnas, but for Jonesy’s daughter, a Gulfstream was as good, one of the most expensive private jets in the world.

  Saturn found the maneuvers pretty easy. After 50 hours of simulator training, learning similar moves, but with thrusters instead of wings and jet engines, flying was much the same.

  “Okay, we are stable at 40,000 feet. Now see how much you can throttle back and keep the aircraft flying level,” Jonesy ordered his daughter. Slowly she brought the power of the engines down until they were just managing to stay on level flight. “Now see if you can add just the right amount of throttle to keep her straight and level through a complete S-turn.”

  Saturn did so, losing only a hundred feet in two minutes’ worth of turning. Jonesy left Maggie to continue the lesson while heading into the Seychelles, and he returned to his parents in the cabin.

  “We keep flying around in turns. We go fast, then we nearly slow enough to fall into a stall. Who the hell is flying this bucket?” Joseph Jones asked, looking over the new fishing rods and reels Doug had given Jonesy on his arrival.

  “Saturn on manual flight,” said Jonesy.

  “But she is only eleven, dear,” answered his mother.

  “Mom, she can fly the shuttle better than this, and by the time we reach Mars, she will be an accomplished astronaut at twelve.

  “You Martians certainly start early,” Joseph remarked. “Worse than you creeping aboard military aircraft at the same age.”

  “Times have changed, Dad, in Ryan’s world. Saturn started school at three and has worked hard ever since. Instead of normal children playing with doll houses and other pretty games, Saturn, Mars and Lunar were learning math, physics, biology and chemistry. The old school systems we were used to, Dad, were a total waste of children’s childhoods. We have proved that children’s learning capacities are stronger the younger they are. My daughter at 11 has a sophomore university education already, something I wish I had the chance to have had at her age. She will have an equal of a Bachelor’s of Science next year, and a Master’s in the same fields by the time she is fifteen.”

  “There was nothing wrong with dolls, toys and fun,” remarked his mother.

  “Look where the U.S. educational system got us,” replied Jonesy. “Under-educated kids who considered fun to be the most important part of being a child. There is nothing wrong with fun, but as a hobby or an after-work relaxation, not the most important item drilled into a young brain.”

  “I think you might be right,” said his father.

  “Why did China become the most powerful nation in the world?” Jonesy asked as the aircraft leaned into a right-hand glide. “Because of the ‘Tiger Moms’ wanting their kids to be the best, and making sure they learned faster than the other children. The Chinese kids were educated younger and faster, and guess what?” His two parents looked at their son. “Education and learning in a fun environment takes the place of fun in a playing and not learning environment. All our space kids enjoyed learning and were taught that it is fun to learn and a mature thing to have responsibility for making sure they themselves were serious in their schooling. All our children are far more responsible than the way we were brought up.”

  “A Master’s degree at fifteen. Is that possible?” Jonesy’s mother asked.

  “Maggie, come in here. Leave Saturn on manual flight after making sure she is flying on the radio beacon from Victoria,” shouted Jonesy toward the cockpit. A few minutes later Maggie came in and helped herself to a soft drink.

  “Dad, you remember the old days of flying?” His father looked at him questioningly. “The days of vectors, flying on radio beacons, and no GPS on autopilot. The best training a pilot can have.” His father nodded.

  “Saturn doesn’t have GPS, because there are no satellites. The radio to America One above is off so that the bridge won’t tell her when she deviates off course, and she has manual fligh
t,” added Maggie. “She is flying straight and level following a radio beacon coming from her destination. Her speed is normal cruise at 500 knots and she has to follow her course for the next hour. Now let’s see what this new fishing equipment is all about.”

  Saturn handed over control of the Gulfstream 550 to Maggie three hours later 200 yards from the edge of the runway. She had flown well and explained to her grandparents that they were totally safe with her flying the aircraft. She had called the lesson “fun.”

  That wasn’t what the Seychelles air traffic controller had felt when he asked the extremely young female pilot her age. When she had told him, he went off the air for several minutes, then came back on with his supervisor asking if the flight was an emergency.

  Jonesy explained to an irate official at Victoria’s International airport, which had seen fewer than 20 international incoming flights in the last year, that Saturn Jones was far more experienced in flying spaceships than aircraft. Handing over a stack of the U.S. dollars he always had stashed away inside the aircraft’s secret compartment, he asked him to fill up the Gulfstream. Credit cards didn’t work in many parts of the world anymore, and only cash or gold seemed to be useful currencies. Jonesy had both.

  Unfortunately, he was given bad news. The airport hadn’t received any new supplies of fuel for two years now, and refueling Jonesy’s aircraft would take about half of the jet fuel they had left. There was no tourism on the islands anymore, and only the one hotel was still open, luckily the one Jonesy and VIN had always stayed at. The other news was that some of the islands were now uninhabitable due to the lack of fuel for aircraft or shipping, and nearly all the inhabitants on the outer islands had left more than a year ago.

  A day later, the Jones family were enjoying life, and were about to wrap up their first day of fishing. The boat was heading into the port area when they saw the glint of an aircraft approaching the airport from the south. They were cleaning a few small Dorado when Ryan’s voice came over Jonesy’s handheld radio. “We are on finals for Victoria. Kathy, me, Lunar and Mars aboard. Which hotel are you guys staying at?”

  “What are you guys flying, the Dead Chicken?” Jonesy asked smiling, but his smile quickly left his face when Ryan told him.

  “No, a 2016 Gulfstream 750, on loan from the Australian government,” smiled Ryan, knowing that his Chief Astronaut was not happy with that piece of news. “Kathy, you take her in.”

  “You can certainly screw up a day’s fishing, boss. I didn’t know they made a 750?” Jonesy replied. “They were bringing out the 650s when we left. What are the modifications?”

  “A slightly higher cruise speed, Mach 0.995, 5,000 feet higher cruise altitude and room for six passengers, not eight. It is only one foot shorter than yours, but has an 8,000 mile range,” replied Ryan. “The reason I was offered it, is that the Australian government doesn’t know if there is any jet fuel out here in the middle of the Indian Ocean. This baby can do the round trip without refueling.”

  “There isn’t much, and what they have will give me one more flight out here,” Jonesy replied.

  Jonesy just had to head back to the airport in an old banged up and completely rusty Nissan rental to see the newest Gulfstream. Fuel prices were crazy, most shops seemed empty of luxuries, and the ten miles to the airport wasn’t too far.

  “She is certainly a beauty,” sighed Jonesy as he, Maggie and Saturn scanned the cockpit. The two aircraft looked identical, although different colors, and the newer version had the official name of “Government of Australia” on both sides of the fuselage. “Well, since our old yellow runabout has only 700 flight hours on her, she can last us a few more years.”

  “It seems that we need to find a fishing spot closer to our base of operations,” replied Ryan. “I’m sure that Doug will come up with a new island for us before you return in a couple of years’ time.”

  “I hope so. This place has gone to the dogs since VIN and I were here last,” Jonesy continued. “I believe that we will stay here for a few days then head back. I promised VIN that I would have some fish fillets from here when I got back up.

  They stayed all week. There was very little going on back at the base, and Allen Saunders was only due back in a week with one of the Cold Fusion systems, and it seemed that life was waiting for the fish to bite.

  Bite is what the fish did. There were only three remaining commercial fishing boats left on the main island of Mahé. There had been more, but with the decreasing allocations of fuel and the dwindling of tourism, many had left for southern Africa. The prices weren’t cheap. Ten times more expensive than a decade earlier and the boats rundown and their owners old, but the fish hit on anything pulled behind the boat.

  Once they returned with the day’s catch, there were dozens of locals who offered to gut and pack the fish for next to nothing. They all enjoyed themselves, the space children realizing how pretty and vast the Earth and its people were.

  Mars Noble caught the largest fish, a 65-pound Dorado which took an hour to bring in. In all, they had 1,000 pounds of packed fillets, and they said goodbye to the beautiful island after seven days of fishing with both aircraft heavy with iced boxes of fish.

  “I heard you received a letter from the President?” Jonesy asked Ryan over a couple of cold cokes in the new Gulfstream on the way back to Australia. Maggie and Saturn were flying their ride back, with Mars and Lunar taking turns at flight lessons. Jonesy and his parents were in Kathy and Ryan’s fancy aircraft, the ride smoother than the “student” vehicle.

  Kathy, one of the best pilots, put their aircraft on autopilot. She was amused as her daughter turned Jonesy’s jet first left and then right, and up and down as her instructor saw fit, a mile in front and a couple of thousand feet below.

  “Oh yes, I nearly forgot about that,” replied Ryan. “The President wanted to talk to his daughter, but she refused to speak to him from the bridge. I will get her to speak with him when I get back up there on our next launch. Are you done with fishing, Mr. Jones?”

  “Tired. My arms still hurt and we have enough fish for at least our trip back to Mars,” Jonesy replied.

  “Oh! You Jones family still coming with us? I was starting to wonder,” smiled Ryan.

  “I think the shock of that beautiful island going downhill, just like in the States, is not what I wanted to see,” remarked Jonesy simply. “This planet is a mess, getting worse, and there are about a hundred of us who have an alternate. This Earth is not the Earth I remember. I think vast changes are going to take place over the next decade or so. What excites me is that we could be able to come and visit every two years or so and see if it’s still here. One day these bigger, more powerful countries might just blow each other and the whole planet to kingdom come, just like they tried to get rid of us. Now you are giving the Aussies Cold Fusion, you are going to change the balance of power on this planet, and you could be the reason for World War Four.”

  “Yes, I agree entirely with you,” replied Ryan, “but I still feel that something has to alter the power struggle and constant fighting on this planet. If I didn’t give them the power, then I think you are right in thinking that our civilization will over time go completely downhill, back to the before the Industrial Age. Hell, with a nuclear war, back to the Stone Age, and there would be no life left on this planet. One day we could go back to wearing spacesuits and living underground in our old home, as we will on Mars. I discussed the pros and cons with Igor and Boris up on the bridge for several hours, and we all came to the same conclusion: that if new countries became powerful, decent countries like Australia, Canada, maybe the whole of Europe or even little Israel, then something would change. I don’t see those countries acting like China or Russia, or our old country. I see a new surprise, of even government, smaller countries taking the lead and keeping the big dogs muzzled. That was the only reason we three agreed on the Cold Fusion delivery, and the reason we will give the change of world power and dominance to a smaller country. Jonesy, just
don’t tell Doug that he only has a year left in power, and like the U.S., you never know who will come to power after him.”

  Ten tons of the richest topsoil plus enough liquid hydrogen to get it into space was waiting for them at the base when they landed. The topsoil and the fish were all that was needed to leave the planet, apart for returning the crewmembers to space.

  It took two weeks. Each shuttle came in for a few days. The Pitts were taken off the roster to enjoy ten days of vacation, so were Captain Pete and Dr. Nancy to have a honeymoon. Ryan flew them all into Sydney to spend a week with Kathy and Lunar, shopping and seeing the sights.

  The Matt craft weren’t allowed to enter, so Commander Joot and Elder Roo got on with educating the new crewmembers in Matt. For the President’s daughter, she was in heaven, learning an alien language and inspecting every inch of America One.

  Chapter 15

  Goodbye Earth

  “Good morning, Mr. President. As promised, I have your daughter with me up here in orbit,” said Ryan from the ship’s cafeteria.

  The President was sitting in the Oval Office with a radio on the desk in front of him. The room was empty of staff, as he had wanted to talk to his daughter alone.

  “Joanne, Joanne, are you there?” asked her father.

  “Yes, I am here talking to you, not that I wanted to be,” Joanne Dithers replied.

  “Were you kidnapped? Are you okay? Mother and I are worried sick about you.”

  “No, I wasn’t kidnapped, and Mother isn’t worried about me. She knows where I am and is happy I have escaped your lousy leadership. Maybe you should stop being nasty to her every time you are with her. You are a monster. To answer your questions, then I am out of your life forever, I went to Ryan’s base in Nevada wanting to join his expedition. He kindly let me join, not knowing who I was. It was my education and experience that got me in, not your position. I am extremely happy and, Dad, I didn’t really want to talk to you. Ryan made me, for reasons of politics. You are a bully. You hurt Mom all these years, you have hurt our country and you have hurt the poor average American with your greed and overreach. I’m happy not to be part of your world anymore.”