Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  “But all the cryogenic equipment,” I said. “She’d need half this room!”

  Judith shook her head. “That’s why we built CIRCE to be a multi-disciplinary facility, remember? To innovate not just in the biological sciences—for cell extraction, preservation, species propagation—but in so many other technologies. Compact and efficient energy storage…”

  “Long-life batteries,” I continued. “Specialized photovoltaics, active heat sinks…”

  “Miniaturized sensors and actuators, numerical modeling and simulation, machine learning.”

  “To build better and better cryo-storage units.”

  She nodded. “We had been putting pieces of it together from the start. While you were gone, and when the Artemis 1 launch failed, I made the decision to freeze development to what we had at this moment in time, and to move to a finished unit.”

  She went to a steel cabinet at the far end of the room, and punched in a combination.

  “One-nine-eight-eight,” she said, looking at me.

  Inside hung a large CIRCE backpack, similar to the one I’d carried in South Africa, and on the floor underneath it was an aluminum box. She tapped the box, and the lid slid open. Immediately, a white mist swirled in front of the box.

  “A portable Ark,” I said.

  “One that can carry up to 20,000 of our samples in special vials. Fully-charged, and with continuous-charging from the active surfaces, the unit can operate for decades. Maybe even centuries, if it has to.”

  She tapped the box closed, and shut the receptacle.

  “My husband Louis, as you might know, was in aerospace and not in biotech like I was. Before we linked my company C-Analytics with his, Weston Aerolite was a contractor for Blue Origin and SpaceX in the early days of private aerospace.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Chloe has a portable Ark. She’s carrying half of our collection, and is now in Sao Tome and Principe, off the coast of Central Africa. Weston has a launch facility there.”

  * * *

  I didn’t have time to respond. Suddenly, an alarm klaxon sounded, and we rushed from the Cryo Unit.

  Gwynn’s face appeared on Judith’s phone. “There’s a panther reported loose in the east parking lot. We think it might be Parisa.”

  “Get all visitors out of here,” Judith said.

  We took the spinner and headed towards the parking lot.

  “It’s not Parisa,” reported Gwynn. “Pavarti just called in that our girl’s still where she should be.” Pavarti was the lead keeper for the big cats.

  We stopped short of the parking lot, stayed in our spinner.

  There, along the walls of one of the enclosures, was a black panther. It was huge, muscled, and its tail flicked lest to right as it stalked forward. It was a male.

  “That’s definitely not Parisa,” said Judith.

  We could see some of the other keepers in a spinner on the far side of the enclosure, and we could hear some of the discussion over the radio.

  The thought was that it had come from Jungle Cat Preserve, Caledonia Zoo or one of the other zoos that were now understaffed.

  “We need to capture it,” someone said.

  “Tranq gun, I’m on it.” That was someone else.

  “Wait,” said Judith. “Are all visitors secure? Is everyone out or in a vehicle or building?”

  Gwynn’s voice answered, “All secure.”

  “Then let’s watch it’s going.”

  The panther kept a steady gait, occasionally stopping to sniff the air and look around. The keepers kept a safe distance behind it, tracking it.

  “Pavarti, where are you?” Judith said.

  “Right here, at my station.”

  “Good. I think it’s headed for the panther habitat. When it gets to the gate, open it.”

  Judith was right. Deliberately, the male made its way to the panther gate. From the cat keeper station, Pavarti raised the gate about a foot. The big cat slunk down and, sure enough, went inside.

  * * *

  We still had no idea how the panther broke into the zoo.

  There were no reports of it passing through any of the conventional gates. There was a two-story security wall around the perimeter, much higher than the 16-foot height prescribed by guidelines.

  It was quite possible the panther used part of the wall’s support structure to help it scale the wall. Still, there was nothing on video to prove that this was the way it got in.

  We had tranquilizers ready when the new panther was safely in the enclosure, but Parisa seemed comfortable having a partner.

  We all relaxed, and went back to work.

  * * *

  “We hadn’t finished our conversation,” she said when we both got back to CIRCE. “Let’s go back to my office.”

  When we got there, I closed the door. “Chloe’s at a Weston launch site with a portable Ark.”

  “Chloe’s launch is next week, for Valles Marineris. I’d like you to go up next.”

  I sat down. “What, how?”

  “We only had the one ship. Now I need you to go up on the Artemis 2.”

  “It’s a lottery, how are you going to get me on that ship?”

  She sighed. “So many questions. I’ve bought a berth, of course. You just have to be at the launch site and meet with Tom, my contact, I’ll give you his number later. I’ve promised to transfer him ten million Nether once I’ve confirmed you’re on board. There’s more to know for when you reach Valles Marineris, of course, but—”

  “But what about you?”

  She looked at me, her eyes not wavering. “We’ve known each other for fifteen years,” she said. “I need to pass on the torch to someone I know and trust. Someone like family; and you’re about as close as it gets.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Actually, I was hoping you’d say yes.”

  * * *

  I did say yes, of course.

  But I never spoke to Judith Weston again.

  She always worked late, later than anyone else in the building. When she was done, she’d lock up the CIRCE building for the night, and make her way to the staff lot, a good piece of exercise.

  Sometime earlier, the male panther tired of its dalliance, or Parisa decided not to respond to its advances. Whatever the circumstance, the big cat decided he had had enough of Glen Eden, and scaled the wall of the panther enclosure.

  By all reckoning, their orbits could have taken very different paths.

  But somewhere between the CIRCE building and Judith’s vehicle, their two paths crossed.

  Part VI

  Zebra

  For Immediate Broadcast M7 31 07

  Commemoration of Earth Victory Day

  The Mars Aerospace Authority (MAA) will mark the interplanetary observance of Earth Victory Day at noon SMT on Friday, February 18, with five minutes of silence, followed by a special broadcast program featuring technical staff from the Interplanetary Defense Coordination Committee (IDCC), as well as researchers from other projects working to identify and study near-Earth objects (NEOs).

  The IDCC was re-established by the United Interplanetary Force (UIF), with a renewed mission and responsibility for finding, tracking and characterizing potentially hazardous asteroids and comets coming near Mars and the inner planets, issuing warnings about possible impacts, and assisting plans and coordination of response to an actual impact threat.

  Earth Victory Day was proclaimed yesterday by the UIF, formerly the United Earth Force (UEF), at its new headquarters at Origin City on Mars. Earth Victory Day, or E-V Day, is expected to commemorate the valiant stand of Earth in the face of the impact of Comet C/21B9 M2 DEMOS, and was chosen to be coincident with the impact.

  Comet C/21B9 M2 DEMOS was discovered by researchers with the Deep Ecliptic Multi-Object Survey (DEMOS).

  The comet is expected to intersect Earth’s orbit with an estimated error of plus or minus less than approximately 0.25 million kilometers. The encounter i
s expected to result in an impact, the effects of which would be mitigated upon impact with water, such as the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean. Since the surface are of the Earth is presented as 71% water, it is expected that the effects of an impact by Comet C/21B9 M2 DEMOS will be minimized in terms of severity, and will allow a measured response by authorities. The diameter of the comet’s primary mass has been estimated by DEMOS to measure approximately 40 kilometers across.

  Following the five minutes of silence, viewers who tune in to the special broadcast program will learn how researchers find, track and characterize NEOs—both asteroids and comets that come within the vicinity of the solar system orbit and could pose an impact hazard to Mars and the inner planets—and how the UIF and MAA are working hand-in-hand to respond to any future potential impact threats.

  "At IDCC we place a high value on the interplanetary collaboration that allows us to pursue our mission,” noted Interplanetary Defense Officer Chris Fitzgerald.

  He added: “I think I speak for all the inner colonies, our allies on the outer planets, and everyone, when I say we understand and sympathize with the deep tragedy that E-V Day will mark for the people of Earth. We pledge to commemorate this day in your remembrance.”

  The program will air on MAA Television and will be streamed on its website.

  21

  Roo

  The launch from Sao Tome and Principe went without a hitch, and without much fanfare.

  To everyone else around the world, and even among the few remaining staff at CIRCE and the Zoo, it was just another private launch by some unknown member of the elite.

  When the news picked it up, I watched as it streaked out of the atmosphere, a measure of hope. To me it represented an atonement for all that humanity had done to nature, to creatures like Amahle, to each other.

  I waited for a message from Chloe. Of course, Judith had never had the chance to tell her that I was the next one, to reach out to me and make contact when she was safe.

  I guessed that she would be in Valles Marineris now, her precious toy kangaroo in her pocket, re-establishing part of the Ark collection with another of Judith’s contacts. Once established, she’d take the time needed to divide the specimens again, and create another back-up collection. It’s what I would do.

  But couldn’t she guess that I would be up next? Wouldn’t she have tried to contact Judith? I had no ideas what her instructions were.

  Without Judith and Chloe, I became the acting director of CIRCE, and most probably its last. I kept it running as best as I could, but there was no real direction anymore, and the staff slowly drifted away. If the facility had not been purpose-built to stay operational without human intervention, it might have totally shut down.

  One day, I knew, I would be the only human left at the Zoo.

  I spent hours trying to figure out what Judith’s plans were. There were no clues in her computer. I contacted every Tom on her phone or emails. None of them had any aerospace connection, and half of them didn’t answer, or simply hung up on me.

  I called San Diego, and tried to pry out of them their contact at Artemis—assuming it was the same one Judith had—but they couldn’t help me. They’d gotten their berth another way, by a lottery hack that had been discovered and shut down in the aftermath of Artemis 1.

  The announcement came that the colony ships had experienced more delays, but that the Artemis 2 would be ready for launch in six months. For me, the countdown had already begun.

  22

  As the Crow Flies

  Meanwhile, I also updated all the documentation and research records needed to replicate what we’d done at CIRCE, downloading them regularly to a holo-drive, which I’d take with me along with the portable Ark.

  I began the process of transferring the specimen vials from their steel freezers to the portable Ark. It was a long process, a good month at a reasonable pace with just myself doing the work, so I made sure I had enough time.

  The last vials I loaded were for Amahle, and for Leia.

  Judith’s and the Weston Foundation’s endowment meant that the Zoo could continue forever—or at least until the Comet finally hit.

  In the peaceable kingdom that was the Zoo, life continued for a while longer.

  * * *

  Later that year, the bombardment had begun. Not by the Comet, but by pieces of it, heralds of the greater entity, meteors that flew through the night sky like streamers, first occasionally, then with more frequency.

  Paul never messaged me anymore. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive, but as I watched Gabriel’s meteors shower the night sky, I remembered him and the times we watched the Perseid showers together.

  Early the next year, North and South Korea went to war.

  No one knows who fired the first shot; each one pointed to the other as the instigator. With the Comet just under a year away, the insanity had exploded to the highest levels.

  One by one, other countries began to be sucked into another war, this time on the Earth, China, Russia, the United States, the European Union, perhaps the most senseless one of all, in the face of the coming Apocalypse.

  * * *

  The day I dreaded finally came.

  Gwynn and Pavarti were the last of the keepers. One early morning, before starting time, they came together to my office with tears in their eyes. I knew what they were going to say before they said it, that they were leaving, that they had to be with their families.

  I nodded and we all hugged, and I thanked them for coming to see me like the other keepers, and not just disappearing. I asked if they could spend an hour or so with me, to take me through everything.

  It might have been a total disaster if by then the Zoo hadn’t been highly automated. As it was, the two keepers had been able to keep up only because of it.

  I walked through the Zoo with them, going down the short list of human intervention that was still necessary. There wasn’t much—and I was thankful for that. It saved me from the kind of decisions I had to make when my mother decided to die.

  The two keepers were still crying when they left, and I understood.

  As much as they had homes, and they had families, the Zoo was also their home, and the animals were also family.

  For me, the Zoo—the animals around me, and in the Ark—were all I had left.

  * * *

  There were further delays, until at last the announcement came for the launch of the Artemis 2. The launch was scheduled for four days before the Comet hit.

  People were asked to start moving to the Silos, as they had run out of time to build another colony ship. The Artemis 2 would be Earth’s last hope.

  I remembered the huge crowds that had blocked the highways on the way to the Artemis launch site, the rioters at the gates, the violence at the lottery announcements.

  I figured that, when the time came, there was only one way for me to get to the launch site and find Tom—I would have to fly there.

  I needed something that could get me and the Ark where I needed to go, and the Brampton Flying Club was there, as it always had been, to help. Most of the planes were ready and on the ground, and there was not very much call for them.

  Four days before Comet impact.

  On the day before the Artemis 2 launch, I loaded the Ark onto my spinner, in a backpack along with all the CIRCE documentation.

  I went around the Zoo and said good-bye to the animals, one by one.

  My final stop was at the Grevy’s habitat. She was in the shelter; I called to her, and like always, she came. She was still going strong, despite what Chloe had feared. I caressed her cheek, and she brayed and nuzzled me.

  “Goodbye, Leia,” I said. “The Force be with you.”

  * * *

  The Aerolite ASP-23 Narwhal was a totally different aircraft from the two-seat Dragonfly training craft or the four-seat Merlin aerospinner.

  The six-seat Narwhal was roomy, and didn’t require oxygen masks in its pressurized cabin. It had a ceiling of 6,600 meters—ab
out 25,000 feet. Its onboard weather radar and anti-icing capabilities made it truly able to more effectively address adverse Canadian weather.

  The machine-assisted avionics suite for the Narwhal included flight envelope protection—a human machine interface extension preventing control commands that might force the craft to exceed the limits of its aerodynamic and structural framework—as well as augmented vision systems, and safety control overrides in case of hypoxia due to a shortage of oxygen in the cabin.

  As the technician at the BFC told me, with a range of 2500 nautical miles, about 4,630 kilometers, and a top cruise speed of 270 knots or about 500 kilometers per hour, the Narwhal could fly to Iqaluit, the capital of the territory of Nunavut, non-stop in under five hours.

  To Grise Fiord, the northernmost community in Canada, it was seven-and-a-half hours, as the crow flies.

  In glide mode from its ceiling, the Narwhal could travel thousands of kilometers in nearly absolute silence. And with its spinner drive, it could hover almost as exquisitely as a hummingbird.

  * * *

  On the day of the Artemis 2 launch, I lifted into the pure sunshine, the CIRCE backpack secured underneath a seat in the cabin behind me. I logged in the coordinates, south to Cape Canaveral in Florida, and the Narwhal sped towards its destination.

  It had been a long time since I had emerged from the Zoo into the outer world, so I flew low enough to take it in.

  Beneath me was devastation like I had never seen. Cities that I’d been a part of, once teeming and vibrant, lay empty. Skeletons of buildings showed where flames had raged and not been put out. For miles and miles there was nothing but ruin.

  I flew on, turned on the news, and moved to a station still broadcasting, providing updates on the imminent, final colony ship launch.