John grinned. “Come with me.”
He led David along the path to the shuttle bay and from there to the main doors. Putting their masks on, the two men exited Haven and made their way to the short runway extending east from their habitat toward the coast. It was warm out. The sky, so like Earth’s except for a slight hint of green on the horizon, was clear except for a few wispy clouds scudding across the eastern sky. A breeze from the north brought welcome relief from the heat of the sun.
David looked around, but saw nothing new. He scratched his head, then turned to John, who frowned as he prodded at his phone. “Well?”
“Well, what?” John asked, looking up.
“What do you want to show me?”
John grinned. “Oh, that. Just a minute.” He bent his head again and played with his phone. “That should do it,” he said, slipping the phone into a pocket.
“Do what?”
John didn’t reply, instead shading his eyes with one hand as he scanned the sky, humming to himself. He pointed to a black dot that had appeared over the northern horizon.
“There, do you see?”
David emulated John, shielding his eyes from the glare as he squinted to the north. Sure enough, he spotted the approaching object. It grew in size until within seconds he could discern a distinctive shape – an aircraft.
David felt his heart quicken. It was too big for a flitter, and it couldn’t be their old shuttle because they’d walked past it on their way out. That meant …
“It’s the new shuttle!”
John nodded. “Yep. Finished today. I knew you’d want to see it.”
The shuttle turned to final approach and David noticed a few differences from their faithful old aerospace shuttle, the one they’d hauled all the way from Earth. This shuttle was black all over, clean lines not even broken by windows or doors. And big, too. It looked at least twice the size of the Discoverer, although he found it hard to tell – its deep black finish played tricks on the eyes. He scanned it as it descended, but spotted no sign of engine intakes, exhaust ports, or any other means of propulsion, although it must generate thrust somehow. Short stubby wings glinted in the sunlight as it turned to land, and he heard a sound like an electric turbofan, but he didn’t see any exhaust ports.
The shuttle landed, kicking up dust and coming to rest on three elegant landing legs that seemed to flow out of the fuselage. The sound died away, leaving them to admire the shuttle with the sun at their backs and the morning breeze in their faces.
John glanced at David and grinned at the open-mouthed astonishment on his friend’s face.
“How does it move?” he asked, head tilted to one side. He walked up to the shuttle, looking up under its fuselage at the stubby wings. Nothing but a seamless black surface. He placed his hand on one landing strut. It felt slippery, not hard like metal or ceramic; pliable, but not. He couldn’t seem to get a grip on it.
“What is this stuff?”
“Something new, for us,” John said. “One of the new meta-materials our friends from Earth brought with them. It’s not metal, or plastic or glass or ceramic. It’s kind of all of those things mixed.”
David pulled his attention away from the shuttle. “Really? How?”
“Those fancy fabs we’ve been building so we could build this shuttle, they can mix materials down to the molecular level. They can spit out a sheet of material that’s heat-resistant ceramic on one side, and transitions molecule by molecule to structural metal in the middle and plastic on the other.”
“And that’s what this is?”
“Kind of. There’s more magic here though, because this stuff can change. It can be made to shift shape, to move.”
David raised an eyebrow. “It can?”
John nodded and pointed at the underside of one wing. “Watch.”
He touched a control on his phone and before David’s eyes a large circular area on the wing grew as the wing material parted. David stared. It did seem like magic. One moment the wing looked solid, the next a large turbo fan appeared that spanned almost the width of the wing.
“So that’s why the wings seemed to ripple,” he said, walking over and peering upward. “The vertical thrust came from here.”
“Yep,” said John, joining him. “And as soon as it landed, zip, they covered up.”
David shook his head. “Huh.” He looked over to where the landing gear connected to the underside of the fuselage. No doors covered bays for the struts to retract into – instead they looked as if they had grown from the body of the spacecraft. They didn’t have the engineered quality of their shuttle, instead exhibiting smooth, organic shapes.
“They work the same way?” he asked, pointing.
“Uh huh.”
“And I can’t see any ports or doors because they work like that?”
John didn’t answer, instead just touched his phone again.
A ramp extruded from the side of the shuttle and a port irised open. Before David’s widened eyes the ramp touched the tarmac and formed steps leading upward.
John swept his arm toward the shuttle with ceremony. “After you, dear leader,” he said with a smile.
David started up the steps, but couldn’t help stopping and stamping his foot to check it. He shook his head. “It doesn’t seem possible.”
John stepped onto the ramp behind him. “Imagine you entered stasis in the nineteenth century and someone revived you in 2063, when we left Earth. Would you believe what we had then?”
David shook his head. “I guess not. But even so, this … this is hard to absorb.”
John grinned. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Head on up and I’ll show you what’s inside.”
David needed no further encouragement and sprang up the steps and into the shuttle’s interior, John close behind.
The inside was as white as the outside was black. David gaped at the sheer size of it. He’d seen from the tarmac this shuttle was larger than their old one, which was roughly the size of an old-Earth regional passenger jet. This one was maybe a little larger than an international jet.
A pearly white glow emanated from every surface of the empty space. David felt like he was inside a giant table tennis ball. He realized he’d seen this before. “This is just like the Inspiration.”
“Yep, same stuff,” John said, entering the shuttle behind him. “Try it.”
David reached out a hand and touched a wall. The surface felt warm and smooth under his fingers. He tried pulling his hand along the wall and, just as it did on the Inspiration, the wall resisted and allowed him to grip.
“That’ll be useful,” he said, nodding his approval.
“Watch this,” John said. “Jack, airlock please, mate.”
David took a step back as the wall next to him bunched up and extruded outward. As he watched, a new bulkhead formed and isolated him and John from the rest of the shuttle, forming a small segment that included the portal they’d entered by.
“Jack?” David asked, one eyebrow raised.
John grinned. “I had to call him something.”
“The shuttle AI, I take it?”
“Uh huh. Jack, this is David. He’s the colony leader and lead pilot. Grant full access.”
“Welcome David,” Jack said. “You now have full access to my systems.”
David glanced at John, wondering what other surprises awaited.
“Er, Jack?”
“Yes, David.”
“Can you … drop the airlock now?”
“Of course.”
The airlock bulkhead flowed back into the wall, within a minute leaving no trace it had ever existed. David gazed at the vast space now restored. He walked toward the rear of the shuttle, finding the white glow of the walls, floor, and ceiling disorienting. Without points of reference he found it difficult to judge the size, to discern where the walls started and ended. He tapped a wall. “Not much between us and the outside.”
John placed a hand on one wall. “They are a lot thinner than our old shut
tle’s. Stronger, lighter material that does everything in one sheet where we needed multiple layers in the old one. All the wiring, plumbing, air ducts, everything – it’s all baked into the walls, meaning they can be thinner. There’s no wasted space here at all. Even Jack’s processors and memory are spread out across the entire shuttle, built into the structure of the shuttle itself, right Jack?”
“Yes, John.”
“I can’t believe the size of this cabin,” David said, looking around.
“There won’t be so much when it’s full of fuel,” John replied.
“For orbital flights?”
John nodded. “Just like Discoverer. Even so, it can lift more to orbit than Discoverer and it can do it even with the low oxygen in our atmosphere.”
David smiled. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He looked around and nodded his head. “I can believe now – really believe – we can do this.”
“Oh ye of little faith. Was there ever any doubt?”
David shrugged. “I guess not … but seeing is believing.” He touched a hand to one wall again. “But no viewports, huh?”
“Don’t need them,” John said. “Jack, show us the outside view.”
David took a step back as the pearly glow diminished, to be replaced with a perfect view of the outside. But it wasn’t just a viewport, the entire shuttle changed. Walls, ceiling, floor – they all became transparent, leaving them feeling like they were floating in midair.
“What?” he asked, taking a step, then stopping to orient himself.
“Pretty neat, eh?” John said, pride in his voice. “Looks real, doesn’t it?”
“You mean it’s not?”
John shook his head. “Nope. What you’re seeing here is a giant video screen. The entire inside of the ship is showing an image of what’s outside. That’s why you can’t see the wings – Jack is editing them out.”
“This might take some getting used to,” David said, reaching out to touch the wall again. It rippled under his touch like the surface of a still pond.
“Yeah,” John said. “Of course, it’s not all-or-nothing. We can have whatever we want. Jack, just give us windows, OK?”
“Sure thing, John.”
The walls, ceiling and floor clouded to white again, leaving only a strip along each wall showing the outside view.
“See?” John said. “Easy.”
“Yeah,” David said, “easy.” He squinted out of the “window” then turned his head to look toward the front of the shuttle.
“I bet you’re wondering about the cockpit, aren’t you?”
David nodded. “I’m wondering if there even is one.”
“Sure there is. Jack can fly without one, but the shuttle can be flown manually as well. Come on, I’ll show you.”
John walked up to the blank bulkhead at the front of the craft. “Jack, let us in to the flight deck, please.”
As with the hatch to the outside, an oval hole appeared in the middle of the bulkhead and expanded to form an entry.
David craned his neck.
Nothing.
The cockpit looked like the rest of the shuttle, except smaller. The walls, ceiling, and floor converged at the front, following the contours of the fuselage.
“So, er, the controls?” David asked.
“Oh yeah. Jack, configure for manual flight.”
“Yes, John.”
David watched, mouth open, as two seats extruded from the floor, a broad strip of the walls became transparent to form a window, and a dashboard appeared. The dashboard had displays showing the familiar flight controls he used in Discoverer.
“I got Jack to make it like our old shuttle until you got used to it,” John said.
David reached out to grip the back of the left-hand seat, finding it firm and warm to his touch. The front, though, felt softer. He sat down and it molded to his body, supporting him. He wriggled. The seat let him do it, then flowed to support his new posture.
“This is good.”
John slipped into the copilot’s seat. “Let’s try something. Jack, stage one restraints please.”
David had to suppress his reaction as he felt the seat move beneath him. The chair material extruded around him, forming broad bands to secure him in place. Again, he wriggled about, finding he had a full range of movement unless he made a sudden move.
“These are like harnesses, but better,” John said. “The larger surface area spreads the force, making them more comfortable and safer. There’s also a full restraint mode that covers your entire body, but we’ll save that for another day.”
David turned and grinned at him. “Good idea. I think I’ve had enough surprises for day one.” He turned his attention to the controls, reaching out to grasp the joystick on his left.
“Wanna go for a ride?” John asked, one eyebrow raised.
David frowned as he concentrated. “Try and stop me!”
“So it’s good?” Nathalie asked.
They ate dinner in their old informal style, scattered in groups between the pavilion and the lake, everyone cooking and eating as and when the urge took them.
“Better than good,” David said between bites. “This is good, too,” he said, pointing a fork at his dinner.
“Ananda,” Veronika said. “He’s decided his future is in Indian cuisine.”
David paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “Another takeaway?”
“That’s what he plans. He’s trying out his recipes on us first.”
David glanced at the others. They all waited for his reaction. He shrugged. “I don’t see it as a bad thing, but we’ll have to deal with setting up a proper economy afterward. Guide it, I mean, rather than letting it grow out of hand.”
From the way Veronika and several others pressed their lips together, David could tell they weren’t happy. But they all understood what “afterward” meant. They would have plenty of time to deal with politics and economics after they saved the world.
If they could.
“But the shuttle is good?” Nathalie repeated, changing the subject.
David took a sip of his beer, flicking Heidi an appreciative smile as he did so. She and John outdid themselves with each new brew.
“It’s a game changer. We can now get ten tons to orbit, even with the low oxygen. With that level of capacity, we can get all the materials we need to orbit and be under way within a month.”
“So when do we start?” John asked, leaning forward.
“I think a trial flight first,” David said, “with a light load. How would it be if we took a load of memory up to Hope later this week?”
John’s eyes glowed. “That’s a great idea!”
“I’m coming too,” Nathalie said.
John and David turned their heads. John opened his mouth then closed it when Nathalie frowned. He knew that expression only too well.
“OK,” he said a second later, giving David a kick under the table. “That should be fine.”
It hadn’t been easy. Once word of the test flight spread, not an hour went by without someone collaring him to press their case for a seat. David had to mollify those who didn’t make the cut with joyrides in the new shuttle, and a promise to include them in future orbital flights.
They couldn’t take everyone. Even if the shuttle had been capable, they couldn’t spare the capacity to create all the support materials, like flight suits and food. Nor could they spare the time to supervise the little ones, much to the children’s bitter disappointment. They thought it unfair everyone else had been to space except them, and didn’t hold back on making their point of view known.
David settled on a three-prong strategy. Some of them would go on the mission to divert the asteroid. If they failed, they would most likely still survive to return to Serendipity afterward.
Half the rest would ride a shuttle into orbit and wait there until after the asteroid struck, staying in orbit as long as possible while the planet recovered.
Those who remained would take shelte
r deep underground. The mining bots would extend their deepest mineshaft and hollow out a survival chamber, reinforced with structural steel. They would stock the chamber with food, water, and stasis chambers.
It was a brutal choice, this division of their numbers, acknowledging not all of them might survive. Any other time, David would have expected arguments and objections, but when they announced the plan, he saw only understanding in people’s eyes.
They knew. They knew the stakes were survival of life on Serendipity, perhaps even the survival of their species. Hard decisions must be made and hard decisions must be accepted, or they faced the most definitive end of all.
Extinction.
The shuttle cruised through the upper atmosphere, riding on powerful electric jets. Among many improvements had been higher battery density than their own shuttle could boast. As with everything else about their new wonder-shuttle, the batteries could be found far and wide, woven into the very fabric of the ship.
Battery power had taken them high above the surface of Serendipity and nudged them to a respectable Mach three.
“Engaging main engines,” Jack said.
David had gotten used to their shuttle’s AI. After all, if he could accept a starship named Hope, why not a shuttle named Jack? He’d also put aside thoughts of piloting the shuttle himself. Maybe after this crisis ended he might indulge himself, but right now he needed the time, and he knew Jack could pilot himself better than David ever could.
Their take off and rise to altitude had been flawless. David thought back to the last time they’d flown up to meet the Inspiration. Then, they’d jury-rigged their old shuttle with strap-on solid boosters. There’d been no smooth takeoff and ascent. Instead, they’d dropped the shuttle off the edge of a cliff and damn near hit the ocean before clawing their way up into the sky. The intense vibration had almost shaken their teeth from their sockets when the solid boosters catapulted them out of the atmosphere. They’d used almost every last drop of fuel to push to orbital velocity and rendezvous with the Inspiration.
This voyage couldn’t have been more different. The rocket engines engaged at low thrust for a smooth transition from electric power. This changed as Jack throttled up, and they found themselves embraced by their seats. The nose of the shuttle rose, and they were pressed onto their backs as they hurtled toward orbit.
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