The Stars That Beckon

by Kevin J Simington

  “Welcome to Equatorial Tether Lift Terminal. Entry to the terminal requires appropriate authorisation. Please ensure that your biochip has today’s DANSA clearance code. Biochip updaters are located at the top of the travellator. Please update your biochip, if necessary, prior to reaching the scanning gates.”

  George Leonidis, who up until this point had barely uttered a word, pulled out a small biochip editor from his jacket pocket.

  “Here, give me your hand,” he said to Zac.

  Zac reached out his left hand and Leonidis held the portable editor against the back of his wrist until it issued a satisfied ping.

  “There. You’re authorised.”

  Once through the scanning gates, Zac found himself inside a massive enclosed terminal concourse, circular in shape, approximately 200 metres in diameter, with a domed transparent ceiling at least 50 metres high. At the centre of the concourse was a massive black cylindrical wall, extending as a column from floor to ceiling, about 100 metres in diameter. Leonidis steered Zac across the broad concourse to a large sliding door at the base of the column, attended by a smiling female flight attendant and two grim-looking security guards. Leonidis and Zac had their wrists scanned.

  “Welcome Mr. Leonidis,” said the flight attendant. “We’ve been holding the pod for you and your guest. It’s ready for departure as soon as you are on board. Please use these disposable breather nodules during your walk across the open concourse.”

  She handed them both what appeared to be two small, button-like filters joined by a thin, flexible piece of plastic. Zac copied Leonidis, who had inserted the filters in his nostrils, leaving the plastic joiner dangling between them.

  “Please remember to only breathe through your nose while you are in the open air,” said the flight attendant.

  The door at the base of the column slid open and they entered the hollow, roofless interior of the central column. They walked across the circular concourse towards the tether lift at its centre. Zac had never seen the tether cable in real life before, and it was truly impressive. At least 15 metres in diameter, the cable extended up from the floor of the concourse and disappeared into the sky beyond. At the base of the cable, on the side closest to them, was one of the two pods, a semi-circular conveyance with transparent walls, floor and ceiling, almost as large as Zac’s one-bedroom apartment. Their wrists were scanned one last time as they entered the pod, and then they discarded the breather nodules, placing them in a bin just inside the door. As they entered, Leonidis turned to Zac.

  “Do you get vertigo?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “The attendant can issue you with contact lenses so that the walls will appear to be translucent; you won’t be able to see out. Some people don’t like heights.”

  “I think I’ll be OK.”

  “Suit yourself. Just don’t throw up on me.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence! Besides, it’s still a free world; I’ll throw up on whoever I like.”

  The majority of the interior was filled with about 40 comfortable-looking padded chairs, attached seamlessly to the transparent floor and facing towards the outer transparent walls. There were about 20 people already seated and strapped in.

  “The best seats are at the front,” Leonidis said, strapping himself into one. Zac took the chair next to him and, as he did so, the door slid closed and Zac heard a faint hiss as the pod was pressurised for ascent.

  “Welcome aboard Equatorial Tether Lift Pod 1,” said a pleasant female voice, seemingly emanating from the walls around them.

  “Please fasten your lap belt and remain seated with your belt fastened during the initial acceleration phase. Acceleration of 0.25 G will last for approximately 1 minute, at which time we will have reached our maximum ascent speed of 500 kilometres per hour. A green light on your armrest will indicate the end of the acceleration phase. At that point, you will have approximately five minutes where you may unfasten your belt and move around the pod. After this you will be instructed to resume your seat and refasten your lap belt, due to the gradual loss of gravity. We will dock with Kepler Station, at a height of 120 kilometres, in approximately 17 minutes. If you feel nauseous at any time, please use the sick bags located in the side pocket of your chair. Ear pods are located in your armrest. Channel 1 provides a brief commentary on the technical aspects of the Tether Lift’s design and operation. Channels 2 through 10 offer a range of music. Enjoy the ascent.”

  Zac already knew most of the technical aspects of the Tether Lift, through conversations with Annisa. The tether itself was constructed of a high-tensile composite of boron nitride nanotubes and maranium, a metal mined on Mars. The tether cable extended not just to Kepler Station, but hundreds of kilometres beyond it, anchored to a massive asteroid in higher orbit which stabilised both the tether and Kepler Station by its own higher geostationary orbit.

  As Zac reflected on these technical details, he felt a mild vibration through the soles of his shoes, and immediately the pod lifted off the ground to begin its smooth, noiseless ascent. As the pod rose above the cylindrical walls of the base station, the sprawling infrastructure of the terminal came into view, rapidly diminishing as the pod accelerated upward. The city of Macapá to the east and the mountains to the west, however, were obscured by the murky, polluted air of the post-apocalyptic world. After only a few moments, the pod was enveloped in thick brown-grey clouds, and all view of the ground below was lost. Swirling mists raced past them at ever increasing speed, and condensation streamed down the windows as they punched a hole through the clouds. Several minutes later, they burst through into bright sunlight just as a green light chimed into existence on the armrests of each chair. Some people unbuckled and moved to the viewing area at the front, but Zac stayed comfortably where he was, looking through the clear floor just in front of his feet. The clouds receded rapidly and over the next few minutes the Earth’s curvature slowly became apparent. Turning to Leonidis beside him, he saw that the security chief had his eyes closed.

  “So, dude, now that you’ve got me trapped in this bubble, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Without opening his eyes, Leonidis replied, “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “What about my wife? The least you could do is tell me if she’s OK. Has something happened? Where is she? Should I be worried? I mean, where’s your human decency, man?”

  “Sorry, I’ve been instructed to say nothing.”

  Zac shook his head and looked away in frustration. Several minutes later, the green light turned to red on his armrest, and a disembodied voice instructed people to return to their seats and buckle up. Zac began to notice a growing sensation of lightness.

  “Why don’t they have artificial gravity on these things?” he asked Leonidis.

  “Because gravity generators weigh a ton, and you would only need it for the last five minutes of the ascent. Once we dock with Kepler Station, we’ll come under the influence of their grav-gen.”

  Zac began to experience true weightlessness, and for the next five minutes the sky around him darkened and the Earth became a dirty brown globe below his feet, almost completely covered in clouds. His arms and legs were floating freely and the only thing holding him to his seat was the belt around his waist. Eventually, the disembodied female voice announced, “Deceleration will commence in 30 seconds. Please tighten your lap belt and ensure that you have secured all loose items.”

  Shortly afterwards, Zac felt the strain against his belt as his body was decelerated towards the roof of the pod. About a minute later, the pod came to rest inside a docking bay on the underside of the space station. The view of the Earth below disappeared as the retractable floor of the docking bay slid across below the pod, clamping around the tether cable and closing the pod in. For several seconds, a loud hissing sound could be heard as the docking bay was pressurised, after which a retractable platform extended itself towards the pod, making contact with the base of the pod with its spongy silica edge. As it
made contact, gravity was suddenly restored to the pod, and Zac plopped down into his chair.

  The disembodied female voice informed them, “Welcome to Kepler Station. We hope you enjoyed your ascent. Have a nice day!”

  After disembarking from the pod, Zac found it difficult to believe that he was 120 kilometres above the Earth. Not that he had much time to enjoy looking around, as Leonidis rushed him through a series of corridors until they reached a doorway marked ‘FTLS Bay’. That’s when it dawned on Zac where they were going.

  “Fast Transit Luna Shuttle?” he said. “You’re taking me to the moon?”

  “Yes,” said Leonidis.

  “And that’s where Annisa is?”

  “It’s not up to me to say.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes!”

  “Listen, Dr Perryman, just be patient for a little longer and everything will be explained. It will be a three-hour trip: 90 minutes constant acceleration at 3G until we reach the turn-around point, and then 90 minutes deceleration. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it’s fast. Are you OK with that? We could take the slow transit shuttle, which accelerates at 1G, but it takes a hell of a lot longer.”

  “Let’s just get there as quickly as we can,” said Zac. “I want to get this over and done with.”

  About an hour later, he wished he hadn’t said that.

  3

  Kitchener Tyler strapped herself into the left seat of the shuttle cockpit and turned to her co-pilot, who was already going through pre-flight checks.

  “I haven’t flown with you before,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Name’s Kit.”

  “Bane Kalawaia,” he said, taking her hand.

  “Islander?” she asked, noting his olive complexion and curly black hair.

  “Yeh. Grandparents were from Hawaii. But I grew up in Santiago, Chile. Family wanted to get as far away as possible from the dirty air.”

  “I don’t blame them,” Kit replied. “I’m from Christchurch, New Zealand. Same reason. Clean air, most of the time. Real food, nice people. Wish I was back there right now, instead of stuck inside these tin cans eating yeast steaks and drinking recycled urine.”

  “I try not to think about whose urine I’m drinking,” Bane said, smiling.

  “You been doing the Luna shuttles long?” Kit asked.

  “Couple of weeks,” Bane replied. “Just had two years doing the Titan run. I’m glad to be out of it. Those moon miners are seriously space wacky!”

  “You’re not wrong. Well, welcome to the Luna ferry service. It’s a doddle compared to the long-haul flights you’ve been doing.”

  They finished their pre-flight routine and Kit asked her co-pilot, “Who’ve we got on board today?”

  Bane checked his passenger list. “The usual assortment of researchers coming on shift, plus two love-struck honeymooners, a serious-looking security guy and a hippy in a Hawaiian shirt.”

  Kit shook her head. “It takes all kinds I guess.” She punched her comms button. “Kepler control, this is FTL-1. We’re ready to roll.”

  “Roger FTL-1. Umbilical is retracted and docking tube is depressurised. You’re cleared for hard-dock release.”

  There was a whirring sound followed by a clunk, as Bane initiated undocking, and then faint intermittent hissing as he used manoeuvering thrusters to get them into clear space.

  Kit punched the comms again. “Kepler control. This is FTL-1. Baby bird has left the nest.”

  “Roger FTL-1. Have a good one, Kit.”

  “Thanks, Terry. See you tomorrow.”

  Ninety minutes later, as the shuttle neared turn-around, travelling at a respectable velocity of just over 269,000 km per hour, Bane said, “This is the part I’ve been looking forward to.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Kit.

  “You have quite a reputation. I’m told you do the slickest flips in the service.”

  “Well, to be honest, there’s not much competition,” said Kit. “Just about everyone else uses the automated manoeuvering thruster system, which is as slow as a wet week. Even a trained monkey can push that button. I like to be hands-on. It’s faster and it keeps me sharp.”

  “So how do you do it? What’s your secret?”

  “I assign both nose pitch thrusters to my left joystick, the two rear pitch thrusters to the right stick, the front yaw thrusters to my left foot pedal and the tail yaws to my right foot. Then I just keep one eye glued to the front window for visual feedback, one eye on the yaw and pitch readouts and another eye on the gravitational alignment display.”

  “Umm. But that’s ...”

  “Then, when our alignment’s within spitting distance of the moon’s gravity alignment, I punch in the auto system for a final tweak, and we’re set. It saves about two minutes of fluffing around, and it’s a lot more fun for the passengers.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Just watch and learn, my Jedi apprentice!” said Kit.

  She punched on cabin comms and announced, “Ladies and gents, my name is Kit Tyler, and I’m your captain for today’s flight. We’ve reached our turn-around point. In a few moments I’m going to cut the main drive, flip this can on its end and then kick the drive back on. Please make sure your lap belts are securely fastened. We’ll be flying backwards from this point on, but don’t worry, I polished the rear-view mirrors before we left.”

  A few moments later, Kit said to Bane, “OK. Here we go. Time me.” With that, she flicked the fusion drive off, and both of them lurched forward as acceleration was immediately cancelled. Without waiting a moment, Kit started operating the thrusters with rapid-fire bursts. The stars in the front window revolved crazily and the alignment readouts cycled through readings almost too quickly to see.

  Bane asked, “Do you need me to ...?”

  “Shut up.”

  A few more quick movements of hands and feet, and the universe stopped spinning. One or two more quick thruster adjustments, and Kit punched on the auto thruster system. With a few tiny thruster bursts the computer brought the spacecraft into perfect linear alignment with the moon. A green light came on and Kit punched in the fusion drive, pushing them both deeply back into their seats again.

  “How’d I do?” she asked.

  “32 seconds.”

  “Damn! You put me off! Next time, don’t say anything.”

  A little over 95 minutes later, the shuttle was on the tarmac at Luna City Terminal, Bane having executed a perfect vertical three-point landing onto its fuselage wheels, using its altitude thrusters.

  “That wasn’t too shabby,” Kit told Bane.

  “Thanks,” he replied, acknowledging her typically understated Kiwi compliment. “I’ve landed a few of these things in my time.”

  A tow vehicle, known colloquially as a Bug Tug because of its bug-like appearance, swiftly manoeuvered the FTL alongside the terminal nexus, and an extendable docking tube attached itself to their exit port. A few minutes later, crew and passengers were crammed into a large lift as it descended into the cavernous underground labyrinth of Luna City. Kit glanced at the guy in the Hawaiian shirt, who looked distinctly uneasy. She hoped he hadn’t puked all over her nice clean shuttle.

  4

  Zac was relieved to get off the shuttle and back into artificial gravity. He’d been feeling queasy ever since the pilot of that damn shuttle had spun them around like a top. He glanced to his right. That must be her over there. She and the other pilot next to her were wearing grey jumpsuits with blue DANSA insignia. She looked tomboyish. Slim build, medium height, with short, dark hair. Dark nail polish and stunning hazel eyes, with a mischievous glint to them. She had the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, as if she found everything and everyone around her mildly amusing. Zac found himself intrigued, despite wanting to be cross with her.

  In an attempt to take his mind off his queasy stomach after the mid-transit flip, Zac had listened to an info-stream through his earphones, which had explained some of the technical aspects of Luna City: />
  Luna City utilises naturally occurring hollow lava tubes and lava chambers, about 30 metres underground. These are sealed and lined with bioplastacon, a composite of locally mined anorthite and silica, infused with bioluminescent bacteria that provide diffused lighting throughout the base. Artificial gravity is transmitted via an aluminium-based sub-floor structure.

  The voice had droned on, helping to distract him from his motion sickness:

  The moon is a rich resource for mining, containing large deposits of silica (SiO2), alumina (AlO3), lime (CaO), iron oxide (FeO), magnesia (MgO), and titanium dioxide (TiO2). This means that the most abundant element on the moon is oxygen, locked in these oxygen-bonded minerals and metals. Because of this, ample breathable oxygen is produced as a natural by-product of the manufacturing of various metals and plastics. The base is powered by nuclear fusion, using the helium-3 isotope that is also in abundance on the moon.

  Now, as he entered Luna City, he was able to appreciate the impressive technological achievement that the colony represented. The lift opened onto a large, roughly circular chamber, about 20 metres in diameter, with corridors leading off in various directions. Signage indicated the destinations of the corridors: Habitation and Cafeteria, Starlight Casino, Galileo Observatory, and Armstrong Research Facility. The lift buttons had indicated that mining, water harvesting, food production and power generation were located at a lower level.

  The occupants of the lift split up, heading down separate corridors. Leonidis guided Zac into the corridor for the research facility, and after 50 metres they came to a bulkhead with an airlock door. A sign on the bulkhead read, ‘Democratic Alliance of Nations Space Agency: Armstrong Research Facility’. Leonidas held his wrist against a biochip reader and the airlock door slid open. They entered the airlock and cycled through it. Exiting the airlock, Zac found himself in a long, wide, central corridor with glass-walled laboratories opening off to each side. People in white lab coats were bustling about, and the labs appeared to contain an impressive array of equipment that was mostly unrecognisable to a history-trained professor.