Breaking Interstellar: Android Lives Matter

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Breaking Interstellar: Android Lives Matter Page 13

by Michael Tobin


  Chapter Twelve: Bon Voyage!

  Two limousines kick up clouds of dust as they travel the dark road leading to Charlie-Tower. Up ahead, brilliant spears of light, illuminates the night sky. Within the envelope of this intensity, stands the focal-point of the high-energy photons. Illuminated brighter than the statue of liberty on the darkest of nights, the massive Bravo-Rocket is slowly being moved to its final launch point. The limo’s slow as they approach the spectacle. A mobile launch platform moves the tall beast at one/eighth-mph out of the structure that was its home during the long years of construction. It’s such an impressive sight, that the drivers stop the vehicles so everyone can appreciate the event. It isn’t often that a person gets to witness a flyable-skyscraper being moved across a dark desert, flooded in spears of light.

  “Now there’s a sight you don’t often see!” Braxton exclaims, reminiscing about the rocket that took him and his friends into space back in 2197. Of course, their rocket wasn’t as massive as this one, but the flashback didn’t take that into account.

  “I’m getting goose bumps!” Kara exclaims. “I can still remember the crushing force of acceleration, as we tore up the sky.” She snuggles closer to Braxton, hoping to chase away the anxiety-ghost of that long ago launch.

  Shirley turns to her astronaut friends, conveying with admiration. “I envy the experiences you’ve all had by going into space. It must have been as enjoyable as it was terrifying.” She surmises with wonderment, adding. “I’ve never been up there, but I’ve always wanted to experience the adventure. Of course, now it’s too late, but at least I’m able to spend time with Max and you guys during these exciting times.” She leans over, kissing the doctor on the cheek, squeezing his hand. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!”

  Seeing the majestic rocket, standing there in the desert night like a jewel on display, makes the doctor feel 30-years younger. He’s so proud at this point; he could just bust. Tenderly patting Shirley on the cheek, he responds warmly. “Shirley my dear, I’ve never been up there either, but sometimes the kind words you say, send me into orbit.

  There’s moments of silence, as the doctor’s statement tugs on all their heart-strings. Nyla and Wil, will never forget these last moments spent with their best friends. They have always enjoyed the best that life can offer, and have never known what it’s like to struggle.

  Nyla breaks the spell that had developed. “Hey you two love-struck teenagers, life’s going to change dramatically for you both in the morning, when all these ballistic creatures have left the nest.”

  “Here Here!” from Carter and Tina.

  “Oh, my yes dear Nyla! Life is going to be very different!” The doctor admits. “And just so Shirley and I don’t wallow in our sorrow too much, I’ve already put in motion, a plan to move down to Belize next week.” He strikes a balance between missing them, and being glad to put dusty old Higgs-Boson Airfield behind them. Everyone is all smiles for the man with a dream; and his lovely companion, too!

  Inside the second limo, Ling is mesmerized by the sight of the towering megalith. The sight takes her back in time, when she was seated on top of millions-of-pounds of high-explosive fuel. Anxiously awaiting the violent kick in the butt, that was sure to come when the beast is rudely awakened. Unlike most of her space buddies, she would love to feel that excitement one more time. She secretly envies Nyla and Wil. At least until she remembers the long and dangerous journey they have ahead. “My, what an awesome rocket! Who wouldn’t want to ride on that beautiful girl?” She asks, wonderingly. “Even for a quickie to the moon and back.”

  Harper responds with an uncharacteristic approval for space flight. “I’m with you Ling! Let’s see if Nyla and Wil’s rocket has some extra seats.” He jokes, as he can’t take his gaze off the beautiful creature standing there in the steamy desert night.

  A loud laugh, breaks the reminiscing-fest. Cooper speaks up with heartfelt amusement. “Are you serious Harp? Don’t you remember the dozens of times you clunked your head during the last time you were up there? I swear, you used more bandages than a person could shake a stick at!” She says humorously, with a small degree of sympathy and large degree of truth.

  Toby laughs so hard, remembering poor Harpers misfortunes, that she embarrasses herself. “Oh my god Harp, Coops right! I mean, you have such bad luck at times; even now, while seemingly safe from the outside world, you have bad luck!” She points to his shoulder in the semi-darkness. “There’s a scorpion on your shoulder this very moment!” She gives a high-pitched squeal.

  With a flurry of chaotic movement, Harper tries to swat the creature from his shoulder. Not giving a thought to where it might land, or even if Toby wasn’t just pulling his leg. In his panicky thrashing, it was only inevitable that he would clunk his head against something hard. Which he did; and in doing so, quickly forgot about the silly creature that never was. It was just a mythical beastie, conjured up by a demented Toby, who has a history of freaking him out.

  Laughing until they have tears in their eyes, Toby puts her hand out to Harpers clucked head, rubbing it for a few moments as she offers her sincerest apology. “Oh Harper, please forgive me! I just couldn’t help myself. You give me so much ammunition, that it’s sometimes impossible for me to be a nice person. Does it hurt much?” She asks, devilishly.

  “Hell yes it hurts, Toby! What the hell!” He exclaims viscerally. “I can’t believe I let you do this to me again!” He rubs the fast forming bump, and says more gently. “But I forgive you, Toby. I just hope you treat your husband better than you do me.” He says, sarcastically, with a hurt look. But he knows they all love him. They just love him more, when he is clunking his damn head, or getting it stuck inside an airlock vacuum vent!

  Adam recovers from his laughter. “Harper, you do have a way with making misfortune a hilarious situation. But if you want another trip into space, I’ll ask the good doctor if he’ll loan us a teardrop. And after a 7-day ride on the space elevator, we’ll go for a nice trip around the moon. I don’t think we’re too old yet for that.”

  “Dream on Adam.” Jax, inputs his two-cents worth. “The good doctor might be wealthy beyond recognition, but he didn’t get that way by offering free multi-million-dollar joy-rides! Besides that, Harp doesn’t have good luck with large rocks. And we all know, that the moon isn’t made out of soft green-cheese. Why, if he ever got close to it, that big rock would clunk his head like it never got clunked!” He jokes at Harpers expense. Even Harper manages a laugh, while the driver continues into the night, after the lead vehicle accelerates towards Charlie-Tower.

  After the group clears the security check-point, Alan Parker meets them just outside the towers main entrance. “You’re just in time.” He says to Nyla and Wil. “Much longer, and we would’ve been forced to give your seats away to standby passengers.” He jokes, shaking hands all around.

  “Hello Mr. Parker. How are things looking for an on-time launch?” Doctor Max inquires.

  “Well, now that the two most senior members of the crew are here, I would say that things are looking up.” He jokes cleverly.

  “Oh, that’s punny! Very punny indeed, Mr. Parker!” Max jokes back. He’s glad that Parker can still find humor during such a serious time. He checks his watch. “It seems we have time for an elevator ride, before Bravo-Rocket shakes things up over here.”

  “Yes, I would say so too, doctor. So, please follow me.... we’ll tuck these two space-jockey’s in, and seal this bird.” He pro-offers his arm to Nyla, and they all head inside.

  As they enter the cavernous tower and come face to face with the beast within, Shirley feels goose-bumps form. She can’t help but think of the dangerous journey her friends are about to begin. She wants to make her android friends, run back out the door and forget about this wild adventure. But, she knows in her heart that this entire turn of events is so much larger than herself, or the love she feels for them. She can only hope to maintain composure when the chips are down, and the rockets ou
ter-hatch is finally closed and sealed, with her family members locked inside.

  The group is awkwardly quiet during the ride to the top of the rocket. None, can think of anything meaningful to say. A funeral march, might have a more upbeat tone. At this point in time, it seems useless and perhaps even unlucky, to try and talk the two astronauts out of going on the mission. If there’s ever a good time to keep a stiff upper lip; this is it. At the top, they gather on the gangway leading to the rockets main-hatch. After a round of hugs, handshakes, and good luck sentiments, the two space pioneers prepare to board the missile that will take them to Mars, and the waiting starships. Leaving behind the only planet that they’ve ever known. And, the rarest friends that ever came down the pike.

  Max holds back tears, as he gives each a beautiful Astrogator-compass on a gold chain; ‘in case they get lost’. And Shirley gives them a cookbook, labeled, ‘how to cook for humans’. While being an actual cookbook; the title is from an ancient comedy-skit that had survived the ages; just after the ‘for’, is a pullup-tab, where the letters ‘ty’ are printed underneath. Both androids have a great laugh. Then, not wishing for a long goodbye, they give one last hug and turn towards the tall machine.

  As they’re closing the outer hatch, they wave a final farewell to the teary-eyed group of friends, that they’re lucky to know. Max and Shirley approach the rockets main hatch, each placing two kissed finger-tips on the cold metal. Max, who never proclaimed to be religious, hedges his bet, saying in a low voice. “Godspeed.” Then the two very sad humans, join their friends from Belize and move towards waiting elevators.

  Inside the crew module, Nyla and Wil greet their shipmates. Some are old acquaintances, and some are new. It will take time to become familiar with their new friends, but there will be plenty of time for that. ‘Plenty of time’ is going to rule the next tens-of-thousands-of-years. They settle into their seats, and buckle their harnesses against the violent ride that’s soon to come.

  As the elevator arrives at ground level, Alan announces unexpected news to the saddened group. Looking at his watch, he knows there isn’t enough time for them to travel past Bravo-Rocket. Soon, it will fill the desert with fire and brimstone. Addressing the doctor, Alan breaks the news. “I must apologize to you doctor; but I miscalculated, and now there isn’t enough time for you and your friends to safely travel past Bravo-Rocket before it launches. There’s only 5-minutes until blast-off. I’m afraid that you are all going to be my guests for a little longer.”

  Max knows full well, that Alan isn’t pulling his leg. Each of the towers, has a bomb shelter for protecting non-essential personnel during the launches, or unforeseen catastrophes. As much as he wants to return to his guests, he knows they’ll just have to wait a little longer. Glancing at his watch. “Oh my yes, Mr. Parker; I see your point. Being that we’re only two-miles from ground zero as it were, it would be most unwise to attempt that road.” Taking a phone from his pocket, he calls the chauffeurs, instructing them to come inside. Then, turning to his friends. “My dear friends, I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” He jokes, before remembering Carter. “My goodness Carter, I’m so sorry. There actually is plenty of room down there. Plus, you’ll be among friends. You can lean on us. But not too much, you weigh a ton!” The doctor jokes.

  Tina speaks up. “He’ll be just fine doctor. As long as he knows the time will be short down there, he’ll be just fine.” She repeats, while lovingly patting her lover on the cheek.

  “Yes doctor, no problemo.” Carter responds bravely, turning to Alan. “Please lead the way, Mr. Parker.” He says bravely, trying to convey the fact that he wasn’t a total wuss.

  The chauffeurs arrive quickly, and with time rapidly running out, Alan ushers them down stairs and into the belly of the tower. Along the way, they came across others that were also heading towards the reinforced hole in the ground. When they arrive, the door is still open for any stragglers that might come along during the last few moments.

  With no more people coming down the corridor that led from the stairs, and time running out, Alan pulls the heavy, well-balanced blast door, closed. It fits snuggly, like a well-machined bank vault door; closing 35 people into the well-appointed room. On the wall of the shelter is a 120-inch, high-def monitor, showing video feed of Bravo-Rocket. The tall beast, exhales clouds of vapor along its flanks, as the frigid liquid-fuel inside its bowels, cause condensation to form. The waves of spectral-mist, flows like rivers down the side of the tall creature, accumulating at the base of the missile. A more eerie scene, is hard to imagine!

  Someone begins a countdown and it goes loudly viral. At zero and ‘blast-off’, the monitor goes white as the energy release overwhelms the sensors. The room vibrates with haunting, low-frequency rumble, reminiscent of an earthquake, which it is. Above, and 2-miles away, Bravo-Rocket has come to life, in a controlled but extremely violent fashion. The monitor clears, revealing the beast that shakes the room. Everyone is transfixed by the awesome spectacle. Fire and brimstone exit the exhaust tunnels, as the rocket fights to break free. Building enough thrust to break free of its restraints, it laughs as gravity loses its grip on the irresistible force. Climbing slowly along the tower, it gains speed every inch of the way and is soon ripping the desert air without mercy as it claws its way toward space.

  It doesn’t take long for the gathering of technicians, scientist, and unexpected guests to see that the launch is going smoothly. Four-hundred-feet above their heads, in a much more vulnerable position, 52 android astronauts watch the launch on their own monitor, that completely circles the flight deck. As the beast reaches for the sky, their monitor gives the illusion of not having any walls between them and the beautiful event. The doctor had spared no expense; besides, all four of the payload sections will be cannibalized after reaching Mars, including the awesome monitors. Very little goes go to waste out on the frontier of outer space.

  No human, or android, enjoys being cooped up in what amounts to be just a fancy hole in the ground. So, after the all-clear is given by launch controllers, the heavy blast door is quickly opened, and 35 energized people head to the stairs, and the humid night air above. As they arrive at ground level, they’re met with a flurry of activity and warning buzzers, as technicians busy themselves with the task of opening the huge doors of the tower so their own creation could taste the freedom that was near. Charlie-Rocket stands tall and proud, ready to fly next. As the limo’s pass the launch site of Bravo-Rocket, there’s still hot gasses rising from the exhaust tunnels. Half of the doctor’s dream is now off the ground, and the other half is hopefully going to soon follow.

  Arriving back at the launch party, the doctor and his friends settle in at their table. Shirley obtained a pair of binoculars so Max, or anyone else that wanted, could watch the progress of Charlie-Rocket, as he’s moved away from the tower at an eighth-mph. With midnight drawing nigh, the doctor’s anxiety levels, increase with each passing minute. Involuntarily, his subconscious torments him about the dangers Nyla and Wil are to encounter during this mission. The launching is dangerous enough, but what’s to follow, would make any brave soul shake in their boots.

  Finally, at 11:50, he can take no more. “Shirley my dear, may I trouble you for one of those happy-pills you keep for me?” He inquires, as his anxiety spikes.

  Shirley, had been expecting that request much earlier in the evening, and is proud that the doctor could resist for so long. “Oh yes, Max. I have one here, just waiting for you.” She reaches into a small pocket in her blouse. “And might I say; I’m very proud that you only need one.” She hands him the pill.

  “Well dear heart, we’ll see how this launch goes. I may have a need for more; much more.” He says, with just a hint of dread, as he pops the tiny pill into his mouth.

  Midnight, fast approaches. Many in the crowd, file past the doctors table, wishing him luck. They all realize the gravity of the situation, as it weighs heavily on the aging man. Hopefully, a few kind sentiments would ease the pre
ssure.... Five minutes to go.

  The doctor excuses himself from the table, moving towards the speaker’s platform, where the launch clock will soon indicate four minutes remaining. As he ascends the steps, the band stops playing and moves to the side, giving him unfettered access to the podium. Max reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a small piece of paper. Tapping the microphone as is his habit, he begins.

  “Once again, I wish to thank you all for coming to my little launch party.” Pointing at the clock. “Within the next few minutes, my children will be leaving this planet forever; along with 50 of their fellow astronauts. Their decision to join the mission, came about recently when two of Charlie-Rockets crewmembers died in a horrible midair collision, while searching for that terrible weapon.” He relates, with proud reverence for the brave android aviators. “May Claire and Shane rest in peace. Even though they were machine in nature, it’s my belief that their spirits go forth with this rocket, and onward to the stars.”

  Turning to see the clock, Max notices only 25-seconds remaining. “I have never saluted anyone in my entire life, but I do so now for Nyla, Wil and everybody else that helped my dream get off the ground!” He says, loudly and proudly. Turning to the far away rocket, he stands taller than usual, giving a salute that would make any general or admiral proud to receive. The many guests, stand and applaud. They didn’t stop, even while yelling the countdown to blast-off.

  “Five .... Four .... Three .... Two .... One .... Blast-off!” They yell loudly, as a huge plume of smoke and fire, erupts from the exhaust tunnels next to the tall rocket. The desert night is ruptured by white light, as the big machine begins to slowly rise along the launch tower. With the main engines focusing their mighty wrath against the pull of gravity, the massive behemoth climbs into the night sky on a long, beautiful pillar of fire and smoke. The air pulsates heavily, pounding the chests of all the spectators.

  Inside the crew module, Nyla fights against heavy forces, but maintains an iron grip on Wil’s hand, as the powerful machine claws its way into the night sky. Sensing distress, Wil turns his head with no small effort, noticing Nyla looking back at him with a serious, but determined look on her lovely brown face. He knew this wasn’t her first rodeo, so he attributes the extra concern, to the fact that they’re not coming back this time. They are going forever and away, never to see the Earth or their friends again. Wil squeezes her hand, giving the best smile and wink he can muster, under the circumstances. Words fail him at the time, but he knows that she just needs some small reassurance that everything was going to be fine. That she wasn’t alone.

  Before the new day is 10-minutes old, Charlie-Rocket, is well on its way out of the Earth’s atmosphere. Towards the moon, it races for fuel, before continuing onward to Mars and the waiting starships. The few guests remaining after Charlie-Rocket leaves, gather with the doctor on the veranda, waiting launch of Delta-Rocket, the final installment of the mission to propagate humanity into the cosmos.

  Tina and Carter sit at a table with Kara, Ling, Cooper, and Toby. Everyone except Carter has had a few, and Toby drinks up the courage to ask Tina just exactly how she brought up the subject of anatomical correctness with Carter. The group of women look at her with shock and dismay that she would bring up such a pointed question; even though they’ve all wondered the same thing, since finding out that the two were a couple.

  Tina’s face turns shades of red, before taking another shot of whiskey and telling the colorful story. “Well ladies, I was just simply dying to find out! I mean, you all know the frustration of loneliness .... right?” She asks, looking at Carter to see if he’s okay with her telling the story. He gives a sly smile and wink, so she continues. “So, I just waited for an awkward moment, and blurted it out. Something like .... ‘So Carter, you have what seems like an exacting human form on the outside, but just how attentive to details were the engineers who designed you? I mean, did you get the full array of equipment?”

  It seems like a logical question in a budding romance, and the women are practically on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear how he responded. Tina explains further. “Ladies, let me tell you; he didn’t beat around the bush with his answer.” She laughs deviously .... “He says to me .... he says .... that while the engineers who designed him were Homo sapiens; they later told him that he was more closely aligned with the hominid genus of Homo erectus.” She breaks into uncontrollable laughter, nearly spilling her drink!

  The women roar maniacally, as Carter stands and takes a bow. Nearby guests look over, wondering what the joke is all about. Toby’s not shy about acquiring more information on the point. “So, just how much effort did those wonderful engineers put into that part of his design?” She inquires lustfully.

  Tina leans over to Carter, plants a passionate kiss on his lips, before returning her attention to the women. “Well Toby .... They don’t call him ‘Carter the club’ for nothing!” She laughs hysterically, patting her mate on the cheek.

  That did it.... Cooper, who’s sipping her drink, almost chokes. Embarrassingly, it squirts from her nostrils and lips simultaneously, putting out their candle. The other ladies almost fall out of their seats with wild laughter. The stress of the evening is broken in a good way!

  After they settle down, Tina finishes her story. Taking Carters hands, she offers him a loving smile. “Of course, the poor dear doesn’t have any ammunition, but he still manages to hit the bull’s-eye of my heart, every time!” She finishes her story poetically, receiving a warm chorus of ‘awwwwwe’ from the women. And Carter .... well, Carter was just glad to have a new arm, and a beautiful woman who enjoyed holding on to it. He in turn, will hold on to her, until the very end. He sits back proudly, his circuits heating.

  As two-o’clock in the morning approaches, they can see that Delta-Rocket is at its farthest distance from its containment tower. Soon, the doctors dream will be completely off the ground, and making progress towards the moon, Mars, and onward to the far side of the Orion-Cygnus arm of the galaxy. Max had a large monitor installed on the veranda, so they could watch live video from inside the command-deck of SPS Charlie. The rocket was automatically renamed, after it expelled its last disposable stage. The ‘SPS’ stands for ‘Space Pioneers Ship’. It’s an exciting time that helps them all stay awake at such a late hour.

  On the monitor, Nyla and Wil, float next to a life-support console, were they’ve been checking the status. Even though they aren’t human, they still require air pressure, and non-freezing temperatures to keep internal mechanisms and CPU’s from malfunctioning. Nyla’s hair, is a dreadful mess, as it sticks out in all directions. To Max, it seems like she is holding onto a Van de Graff generator.

  Max and Shirley notice that they seem happy and energetic as they describe the launch, and how Earth is now growing smaller as they break free from her gravitational force. The journey will take approximately 3-days to reach the moon. It’s possible to reduce the travel time, but that would require extra fuel at both the launch, and then again to reduce their speed for orbital insertion. Fuel is a precious commodity, but weight during launch is equally critical. Its a calculated balancing act for sure. They left earth with stage-four practically empty of fuel. At the moon, they’ll fuel that stage, for the push to Mars. After fueling, there will be plenty for the main engine to drink, as it speeds them on their way to Mars at a much higher velocity, making the transit in just over two and a half months. Also, ion engines in that stage would help maintain a constant acceleration force, that will help keep their feet on the deck plating.

  “Oh Max, it’s wonderful up here,” Nyla radiates sincerity. “Wil and I are enjoying the cozy module so far, and we’ve been getting to know the others that we’ve never met before. It seems that we have a lot of talent riding with us. Many of them have gone into sleep-mode for the journey to Mars, but others are too excited to sleep just yet. It seems that they’re the ones that have never been in space before, and are eating it up like children in a candy store.” She jokes
, as she pans the video camera around the module, showing about 20 shipmates, either floating near the circular monitor, or just strapped into their seats chatting.

  Wil’s handsome face comes into view. He gives his friends back on Earth a wide smile, as he redirects the video camera to the section of monitor that shows the Earth in real-time. “Hey you guys, look at the tiny rock you live on.” Earth, is now about the size of a basketball held at arm’s length. Europe is in full daylight, and the night terminus is crossing the Atlantic Ocean, moving rapidly toward the dark eastern seaboard of North America at about 1,000-mph as the world turns eastward.

  When Wil turns back to the monitor that shows his friends on the veranda, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Kara’s smiley face gleaming at him. “My, you two look like you found your true calling in life. It looks like space travel is right up your alley. I’m so proud of you and all your new friends.” She tries to sound upbeat. Then, glancing at her watch, she perks up even more. “Hey you guys, in 20-seconds, 52 more of your friends will be joining you up there!” She announces excitedly, turning the video camera toward the distant rocket.

  Nyla calls out to their shipmates that Delta-Rocket is about to launch. Wil transfers the video feed to a section of the circular monitor, and they all watch the image of a tall rocket that’s isolated in an island of bright light, surrounded by a sea of darkness. Only a few more seconds pass, before the monitor goes completely white, as the video camera sensors are overwhelmed by the fiery launch. As the big machine clears the launch platform, the camera adjusts to the onslaught of brilliance. Once again showing the amazing image of humanity’s and androids final installment of technological achievement, as it hungrily tears into the early morning sky. Both parties are awed, as the monstrous symbol of achievement, rises ever higher on a beautiful pillar of fire.

  When Delta-Rocket becomes ‘SPS Delta’, the scene is switched to a wide-angle view of the group on Max’s veranda. Any astronauts still awake, watch with amazement at the wild celebration happening below, after the launch finale. The events go off without any major hitches, and the haters of the mission will have to go off-planet, if they want to do anything more about ruining humanity’s chances for expansion into the galaxy, and beyond.

  Max and Shirley feel like an 800-pound gorilla has finally jumped off their backs, and vanished into the darkness with that last rocket. Although, they realize there’s still tremendous danger for the mission, it’s pretty much out of their hands now. Mission control specialists at the Moon, and Mars, will be handling what’s left of the process to send the four starships, 208 android pioneers, and earthly genetic materials to the stars.

  The astronauts use a rotating schedule for piloting the ship. Four at a time, will perform this duty for approximately 7-days per group. Nyla and Wil are part of this operations team during the first week. This time frame will encompass the transit to the Moon, a stop at the fueling depot in lunar orbit, and a few days outbound. They’ll be accompanied during this tour of duty by Talia and Omari, whom they’ve known for 6-years back at Higgs-Boson Airfield. They were to be teamed with Claire and Shane, so it’s a good fit.

  Talia and Omari worked with Doctor Zuri Tinibu for the past 5-years. It was their first and only job, since gaining sentience. Of all the 52 members of their team, Talia and Omari are the most skilled when it comes to hands on experience for the handling and developing of genetic materials. Not just Human genetic materials, but also the thousands of other species that are accompanying them on the mission. Species such as squirrels and monkeys for instance. Species that may or may not ever see the light of day on another world. They are the ships doctors.

  Doctor Sohn is well known for his ‘cover all bases’ approach. He often tells people that he would rather ‘have’ a species and not need it, than have a need for one, and ‘not’ have it. He did his best to send as many as he could. However, he had to draw the line somewhere, and so there are many millions of species that didn’t make the list. Most of the earthly animals, especially the larger ones, won’t have the gestation-systems necessary for their growth until someone creates them after arrival to the new worlds. Space is so very limited onboard the starships, and almost all of it is dedicated to human and android survival.

  Many species didn’t make the cut. Some of these, are the blood sucking species such as mosquitoes and ticks, that the doctor figures the universe could do without. Besides, he knows full well that Mother Nature on other worlds will probably be just as cruel as she was on Earth, when she designed such cursed demons, spreading diseases and pestilence to the animal kingdom; of which humans are a part.

  Nyla and Wil are at the navigation panel with Talia and Omari, reviewing the progress the spacecraft is making while they zoom through the great void. The moon is looming larger with each hour. The journey is being controlled by more than a dozen computer systems, that are synchronized into the navigational-astrogator logic of the spacecraft. After carefully monitoring, and seeing that the trajectory is sending them five by five down the pipe to the moon, they begin to relax. This gives them time to check the life-support systems, and coordinate with technicians at lunar city. The upcoming rendezvous with the fueling platforms, requires exacting procedures that only the moon people can provide.

  There are many fueling platforms in lunar orbit. Each spacecraft will have its own dedicated platform. It’s costlier this way, but safety is the name of the game. Especially, when it comes to taking on large amounts of highly-explosive fuel substances. In the past, more than one spacecraft and crew had been lost, due to catastrophes during this delicate process. Also, because the four ships will be arriving at the moon at roughly the same time, there will be no waiting in line for this process to be completed. After docking with the platforms, it will take about 3-hours each, for the fueling procedure to run its course.

  As the moon grows larger in the spacecraft’s monitors, the androids on duty decide it’s time to coordinate with Lunar Hydro Solutions for the orbital telemetry data that’s required for rendezvous. Omari is at the communications/navigation console at the time. “Lunar Hydro, this is SPS Charlie; do you copy?”

  “SPS Charlie, this is Lunar Hydro, we copy. Welcome to the moon.” A video feed shows a woman’s pretty, but stern face. “We have you on radar, and estimate you are 50,000-miles out. I’m sending you the orbital data required for docking with platform-three. Repeat.... platform-three.” She informs clinically, adding. “You are close to the time when you need to start reducing velocity for the orbital window you need. Please review the data I just sent, and adjust accordingly. Good luck, and we’ll contact you again in 6-hours, as you approach orbit; over.” The woman offers the tiniest of smiles.

  “Copy that Lunar Hydro, and thank you. We’ll look forward to hearing from you again; over and out.” Omari acknowledges, wondering to himself if she is just having a lackluster day, or perhaps ready for rotation back to Earth. He knows how challenging it can be, living in space for long durations. Especially for humans that are just doing it for the money, and not the love.

  Nyla and Wil review the orbital requirements, entering the data into the spacecraft’s computers. After several minutes, the main engine and powerful braking-thrusters, begin to slow the spacecraft to a manageable velocity. At present speed of just over 10,000-mph, they’ll shoot past the moon, if not corrected. Another blast of thrusters is felt, as they stabilize the main engines burn. Inertial energies gradually diminish, at the cost of propellant gasses and fuel.

  At Lunar Hydro, which is located in the south polar-region, Magnus Teach reviews the data for each of the spacecraft coming in for fuel. Two of the craft have already docked with their respective platforms, and are taking on liquid hydrogen and oxygen at that very moment. So far, everything is going as planned, and Magnus is satisfied with the performances he’s getting from his people and equipment. It’s been a long hard road for Magnus. Many years spent, just to develop the water reclamation and processing facilities that
he operates. With majority of the funding coming from Sohn Space Systems, he’s able to design and construct the mining operation and Lunar City, that’s just a half-mile away.

  He’s finally able to taste the fruits of his labor after 25-years of building the business, as the thirsty SPS ships drink greedily from his precious stockpiles of fuel. The mining operation utilizes a 500-square-mile-area of lunar surface that’s perpetually in the shadows of high crater-rims. Water-ice was deposited across the surface of the moon billions of years ago by comet and asteroid impacts, but it’s only in these shaded and protected areas that the ice can persist. Just a meter or so, beneath the loose top-soil (otherwise known as regolith), these ice crystals have remained for humanity’s needs. All other water-ice that wasn’t protected from the radiation, was lost to space over the eons, through a process known as photo-dissociation. Fortunately for humans, there’s enough left over for exploitation. And, that’s what humans do best!

  Large electric regolith-movers, plow the lunar terrain 24/7/365 in search of the good stuff; water-ice. They’re piloted by robotic creatures that are programmed to accomplish this task, and nothing else. These are workers that will receive no ‘thanks’, for a good day’s effort. Just replacement parts, until they can be repaired no more. Then, they get an unceremonious toss into the junk pile.... where they’ll await recycling. After the ice is mined, it goes through a process where the hydrogen and oxygen molecules are separated, and condensed into liquid form. It’s then stored, either on the surface of the moon, or in containment vessels in orbit. From water and ice, comes the fire that rockets use to propel themselves to Mars and beyond.

  Much of the mining is accomplished by automation, and the human population requirements are kept to a minimum. Most of the technicians, are maintenance personnel that are needed to keep the operation running smoothly. Lunar City, is where they live, when not out on the mining site. Approximately 70 men and woman, live in the shielded geodesic-dome called Lunar City. With the low gravitational forces on the lunar surface, personnel are restricted to tours of duty lasting only ten months. There are no children living at Lunar City, because of the low gravity. With their tiny bones growing, they need all the gravity they can get, so that deformations or worse, do not occur.

  After about 5-hours, SPS Charlie has performed its last burn for achieving lunar orbit. Its velocity is now close to 3,800-mph and closing with the orbital window at just the right velocity. The lunar surface looms large, as half the ships monitor has become filled with large and small craters, zipping past just 70-miles below. The opposite side of the monitor, displays a blue planet that’s about the size of a baseball held at arm’s-length. Now, all the other 48 astronauts are awake, enjoying the view as they approach the predetermined coordinates.

  The four astronauts on duty, are too busy flying the spacecraft to enjoy the images on the monitor. The many others, not flying the craft, have their eyes glued to the surreal scenery that’s moving rapidly across the screen. Many, that had never been in space before, reveal their naïveté, as they watch with eyes wide and astonished comments. Only the very humans whose thought-processes were imprinted into their CPU’s, could be more astonished at the scenery, during those exciting moments in time.

  This, is by far the most danger the spacecraft has been in, since launching from Earth. The pilots revel in the ego-boost provided by safely navigating their vessel into orbit around this old, gray rock. It just wouldn’t due for them to become a frozen skid-mark on the lunar surface. Below them, the historic landing spot of Apollo eleven, slips past unnoticed. It’s just too far away, for naked-eye viewing from such lofty heights.

  “Lunar Hydro, this is SPS Charlie; over.” Wil, contacts those who have the good stuff.

  This time, a new voice and face comes up on the communications monitor. It’s a less clinical voice. A friendlier face. “SPS Charlie, this is Magnus Teach down here at Lunar Hydro. Welcome to the moon! I see that you’ve settled into a perfect orbit for rendezvous with platform-three.” He reports, before giving praise where praise is due. “And congratulations; the first two ships had to adjust their trajectory several times, to do what you folks did on the first try.” He says, with admiration.

  This statement brings smiles to four bright faces. Especially Nyla, who beams like a new-born star. Sensing a slight familiarization with both the name and face of the man below, Nyla can’t help but to go off script, asking him a personal question. “Are you the same Magnus Teach, out of Boston?” She hopes he wouldn’t mind the query. Usually it’s best to just keep the conversation on subject, when dealing with delicate maneuvering. However, Magnus is much too lonely to get irritated by such a lovely young lady with a question.

  “The very one and the same, young lady.” Are you the captain of your vessel?” He asks, nonchalantly.

  With a wide smile. “Well, no I’m not, but thanks for asking. We don’t really have a ‘captain’ per se, but there’s four of us doing the flying, and we have one thirsty ship.” She says, with a devious laugh, continuing. “My name is Nyla Sohn, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Magnus. I’ve heard the doctor mention your name from time to time .... Always with kind connotations, of course.” She adds, sincerely. She didn’t want to complicate things by mentioning how his son Eddie had disrupted the doctors little gathering, a few weeks earlier.

  “I thought you looked familiar, Nyla.” Magnus admits. “I heard that you and Wil are attending the doctor’s mission. I just want to take this moment and wish you, Wil, and everyone else with you, a safe and prosperous journey. I only wish that my son Eddie would follow in my footsteps, but I’m afraid he’s not ready for any real responsibility.” He finishes on a sour note.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.” Nyla offers hope. “Bring him up here next time, and let him see the wonders that you’ve created. I’m sure that he’ll come around.”

  “I’m going to take you up on that advice, young lady. Thank you.” Then a momentary delay as he checks his data. “Now, you folks are coming up on fueling-platform-three in about thirty-minutes. After another two and half orbits on your current trajectory, you’ll see the fueling platform coming closer. I’ll contact you again when you’re within ten-miles. Good-luck Nyla, and tell the others on duty that they’re doing a great job bringing that ship in!”

  “Yes, I’ll do that, and thanks again Magnus. I’ll talk to you again soon.” She finishes, turning to her three companions who review the orbital data required for successful docking.

 

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