Breaking Interstellar: Android Lives Matter

by Michael Tobin

  Chapter Thirteen: Motherships

  After four orbits, and passing closer to the fueling platform each time, four astronauts carefully maneuver SPS Charlie, towards the fueling station. It’s an automated platform that will dock with them after they’ve stopped next to it. Without the precious fuel that the platform contains, they have no hope of reaching either Mars, or returning to Earth without rescue. It’s a new way of life for many of them; one that depends on technology working in their favor, without major failures. Outside of Mother Earth’s protective environment, the universe is a cold and unforgiving adversary, that will kill without the slightest remorse, or even consciousness of having done such a thing.

  “SPS Charlie, this is Magnus Teach; do you copy?”

  “Hello Magnus, this is SPS Charlie.” Nyla transmits. “We’re closing with the platform, and have a very thirsty ship needing the good stuff, real bad.” She jokes, breaking the tension of the difficult maneuver.

  “Well, that’s what we’re here for, young lady.” Magnus informs cheerfully. “Your ship may drink, like its never drank before. That platform, contains 35,000-gallons of the good stuff. Take what you need, but be sure to monitor the automatic fueling-shutoff system. All hell will break loose if it fails, and you don’t notice.” He warns, sternly. “The last thing you need, is to rupture the tanks due to a frozen shutoff valve, or software-logic failure. I give this advice to everyone that fuels at my platforms, so don’t feel like I’m singling you kids out. Over the years, I’ve seen it all, and a ruptured fuel-cell in space, is not a pretty thing. Not, a pretty thing at all.”

  “Copy that Magnus. I’ve seen a fueling accident in space before, and I concur that it’s definitely not a pretty sight to behold.” Nyla acknowledges, as she remembers seeing a teardrop fueling accident, a few years earlier.

  As Charlie’s relative-motion becomes static next to the fueling platform, docking-lasers scan the spacecraft, accessing data regarding the type of vessel, and docking clamp locations. The docking procedures are all automated, so the astronauts can only sit back and monitor the situation, hoping for a smooth transfer.

  Once the platform has lined up with Charlie’s fueling point, it moves in for a lock by use of maneuvering thrusters. A slight bump occurs when the platform engages with the docking clamps on the spacecraft. Three green lights on the fueling console in front of Talia indicate that the docking is solid and secure. “Okay gang, we’re docked and locked.” She informs, happily.

  The anxious pilots, watch video-feed of what’s happening at the fuel hookup point. As they monitor, a robotic arm holding the hydrogen fuel line, snakes out from the platform, moving towards the ship. More lasers, located on the fueling head, evaluate its destination. With a final push, the head engages the connection on the spacecraft with a bump, locking into place. Green lights illuminate on the fueling panel, telling of a successful mating. For the sake of safety, the liquid-oxygen will be transferred after the first procedure is completed; and from a different line.

  As the required quantity of fuel comes closer to realization, Nyla and Wil closely monitor, to make sure the fueling pressure diminishes on schedule, and the shutoff-valve closes as advertised. The procedures are completed successfully, and the platform releases the large spacecraft unceremoniously, waiting for another thirsty customer to wander close.

  “Lunar Hydro, this is SPS Charlie; do you copy?” Nyla inquires.

  “SPS Charlie, this is Magnus. It looks like another successful fueling has occurred at platform-three. I suppose now you are all going to leave me?” He states, with a sad tone. “Well, don’t feel bad, they always do.” He jokes, offering a sincere laugh.

  “Yeah Magnus, we must go. Unfortunately, we won’t be coming back this way anytime soon, or we’d stop and say hello.” She responds, trying unsuccessfully to sound sad about it. But, she’s too excited now that they have the necessary fuel to continue with their mission. “We thank you for the hard work you folks do down there. Who would have thought that moon-water would end up helping us reach for the stars?” She finishes on a brighter note.

  “Well, you are very welcome. We take great pride in our efforts here at Lunar Hydro. Our moon-juice has been sending humanity at least as far as Mars, for 22-years now. It’s all in a day’s work. Perhaps I’ll see you folks at Mars, before you depart for that long journey. I’m acquiring 51-percent of the Martian Mining Corporation at Olympus Mons. I’ll be leaving as soon as we finish with SPS Delta, to meet with the management and staff. I’ve converted one of those old asteroid mining ships. She’s really quite a comfortable ride, that didn’t cost an arm and a leg.”

  That gets Nyla’s attention. “Really? It wouldn’t by chance be the old ‘Queen Ann’s Revenge’ would it?” She asks hopefully.

  “No, I’m afraid not. I put in a bid for her, but lost at the last moment. Instead, I have one of the older harpoon-class mining ships. It actually serves my purposes better, because it’s smaller and faster. If I ever change my profession to space-piracy, that’s the ship for me.” He jokes with a hardy laugh.

  Nyla has a nice laugh, but decides it’s time to hit the road. “Well Magnus, I hope you have a safe journey. We’ll be happy to visit with you, if time permits. It’ll take about 8-days after we get there, before everything falls in place for our departure. I’ll have operations at the station, inform me when you arrive. Have a nice flight.” She sends a gracious smile.

  “Thanks, Nyla. It’s been my pleasure meeting you too. Good luck out there.”

  As Charlie maneuvers away from the fueling platform, Wil makes an announcement to the others that they should strap into their seats for the heavy acceleration that’s soon to follow. With Charlie aimed precisely at the window needed for a successful transit to Mars, and with all four astronauts in agreement that the trajectory is true, Wil pushes the button that causes the powerful rocket engine in the fourth stage, to burst into life. With a solid kick in the pants, 52 mechanical astronauts, are pushed hard into their seats, as the heavy acceleration of eight-g’s, continues for 7-minutes. Leaving half of the fuel for the deceleration phase of the flight.

  Upon attaining a velocity of nearly 50,000-mph, Ion engines come to life using a separate fuel supply. They will continue acceleration unabated, creating nearly 65-percent-g during much of the journey. Magnus, on the other hand, must use an automated medical-chamber to induce a coma-like sleep for his initial three-day acceleration of only 2-g’s. His vital signs will be closely monitored during this process, and automatically modified in the event of any adverse reactions.

  Three to five days in this altered state of suspended animation and heavy g’s, is about the limit that the human body can endure, before internal organs begin hemorrhaging. It’s not easy being an organic space traveler. Heavy acceleration or deceleration is another huge limiting factor, for the extremely delicate physiology that Mother Nature has bestowed upon the human form. Without that initial heavy acceleration, the journey to Mars would take much, much longer. Perhaps even on the magnitude of 6-months!

  Onboard Charlie, the call of duty has been relinquished to another set of astronauts. Nyla, Talia, Omari, and Wil, are now free to kick back and enjoy the ride. On the circular monitor, the Moon and Earth have both reduced in size dramatically, as their mighty ship speeds away. After a few games of chess, the quad of shipmates review the data concerning the starships. Sohn Space Systems has constructed at Mars, four starships, now in the final stages of completion. Their names are; The SPS Albert Einstein, SPS Isaac Newton, SPS Cecilia Payne, and SPS Michael Faraday. As with the others, the ‘SPS’ stands for ‘Space Pioneers Ship’.

  Now, while much of the educated world is quite familiar with the first two names, the latter two have fallen into somewhat of an obscurity. However, the doctor was always highly respectful of Payne and Faraday’s immense accomplishments. The world became a better place for humans, due to their scientific prowess.

  Now, what can be said of the lovely Cecilia P
ayne? Well let’s just begin by saying that she was an immense inspiration to countless women; and too many men also! Furthermore, many people don’t know this, but Doctor Payne was a British-American astronomer and astrophysicist that discovered that hydrogen is the most abundant element by far, inside of a star. Until her research, the male dominated theories of the day in 1923, said that the sun is made up of the same elements as the earth; and in the same proportions!

  Cecilia Payne completed her studies at Cambridge University in 1921 but did not receive a degree, due to her physiology. She immigrated to the United States and earned a PhD in astronomy, at Harvard University in 1923. The thesis for her doctoral dissertation, is titled ‘Stellar Atmospheres’. This ground-breaking paper, describes how hydrogen and helium, not only make up the vast-majority of a star, but are also the most abundant elements in the universe; which was later proven to be accurate.

  However, when a senior male faculty astronomer reviewed her dissertation, he dissuaded her from including her trail-blazing conclusions about the composition of stars. Then, four years later, that same advisor changed his mind about her conclusions and published his own paper that basically robbed her of this major discovery. While he did make tiny mention of her work in his paper, he is too often given credit for her brilliant research. Afterward, many top scientists in the field, said that her dissertation was “Undoubtedly the most brilliant PhD thesis ever written, in the field of astronomy.” Her perseverance and true grit, in a male dominated field of study, has inspired millions of women to join into the many different fields of science, over the years. Three cheers, for Doctor Cecilia Payne!

  And what of the ingenious Michael Faraday? Well, he was a gentle British man, who grew up in the very early nineteenth century. He had the roughest of upbringings. Living in near poverty conditions, he also had to contend with a serious speech impediment as a young child. For instance, he could not pronounce the letter ‘r’, and consequently he would introduce himself as Michael Fawaday. This handicap, caused him ridicule to the point where his mother had to remove him from school.

  However, by pure mental prowess and determination, he overcame this lack of formal education, training himself in the ways of science. He skillfully earned an apprenticeship at the British Royal Institution in 1813, and soon after became a mental force to be reckoned with. He was a dynamo of mental skills while employed at this institution. Almost, as if he were somehow receiving inspiration from a higher plain of existence, while breaking new ground in the fields of electromagnetism and electrochemistry. All, without any formal training.

  Through his discovery of electromagnetic induction, we now have electric motors and generators; along with a plethora of other significant inventions and theories. His contributions to science, made him one of the most extremely rarest of human beings in all of history. Right up there with the woman or man who discovered how to use fire. And his modesty was so severe, he once turned down a knighthood from the Queen.

  Nearly 100-years after his passing, Albert Einstein would keep a photograph of him on his study wall, next to images of Isaac Newton and James Clerk Maxwell, a mathematical physicist. Another prominent physicist, whose name is Ernest Rutherford, once stated: “When we consider the magnitude and extent of his discoveries, and their influence on the progress of science and industry, there is no honor too great to pay to the memory of Michael Faraday, one of the greatest scientific discoverers of all time.” Three cheers for Michael Faraday!

  Within each of the starships, or ‘motherships’ as some call them, is the actual spacecraft that will house the astronauts and mission particulars. The mothership has many functions. But, one of the most important, is to protect the lives within, from the dangers without.

  She accomplishes this by use of a double-hull construction; much like the double-hull on an oil tanker. While this particular feature on an oil tanker is designed to help keep the product inside the vessel, the mothership that surrounds the smaller spacecraft is designed to keep radiations and foreign objects, out and away from her baby inside.

  Once the inner spacecraft is completed, a metallic shell is constructed around it and filled incrementally with fresh water that freezes into a nice solid barrier against the ever-present cosmic radiations and projectiles. Also, the outer shell of the mothership will hold the array of fusion engines for propulsion, and many other necessary systems. With an average thickness of sixty-feet, the ice is calculated to be just what the doctor ordered, for the safety and ultimate increase in chances for a successful mission. Once at the destination planet, the mothership is designed to crack open like a giant space-peanut, disgorging the nut from within.

  Also, this outer hull will house atmospheric entry-capsules, filled with supplies that could not fit inside the baby spacecraft. They, along with inactive fusion reactors, will drop to the surface by use of heat-shields and Parachutes. The mothership will provide much more for the mission, than just a protective barrier against the cold and violent hostilities of outer space. In the event, that the new worlds are lacking fresh water, the ice within, will supply the pioneers until some other system can be developed.

  The spacecraft that’s frozen within the bowels of the protective mothership, has six-levels of compartments, that add up to a little over one-million-cubic-feet of usable space. However, with so many supplies needed at destination, most of the compartments are lovingly jam-packed with provisions. There’s actually very little room, for the 52 pioneers that are so critical for the success of the mission. Only the Bridge, hibernation compartment, android facility and handball court, are the only places where the shipmates can enjoy useable elbowroom. Because the android’s electro-polymer muscles and CPU’s, require periodic exercise to maintain proper functionality, the doctor decided that a handball court would fit the bill. This exercise facility, takes up three of the levels in the part of the vessel where it exists.

  Each command bridge inside the inner ships, measures 30-feet-in-diameter by 10-feet-in-height. Not small bridges, but the added space provides non-claustrophobic relief when not hibernating. From a moderate distance, the motherships are black objects, blending with the surrounding void; not unlike the resemblance of an asteroid, but without any tumbling; hopefully. And with a shape, that looks like a fat skipping stone; albeit a very large one.

  The direction of force that’s experienced inside the bridge will vary, depending on whether the mother-ship is in cruise, or if the inner-spacecraft has been released from her, and engaged in independent movement. The bridges on each have many control consoles, some of which regulate navigation, life-support, and engineering. Any communication that might be required can be handled by the acting commander from his or her multi-faceted chair. Also, as with many of the doctor’s spacecraft, these control-centers have circular monitors that circumnavigate the bridge, displaying everything that’s happening, or not happening, outside of the main mothership structure. They give unparalleled panoramic views.

  All the major systems onboard are monitored by a network of 98-computers. They work as a team, comparing notes and reaching consensus of operating parameters concerning the many systems, as the starship streaks through space and time. If one or more of the many computers should fall out of consensus with the majority, four astronauts are re-animated to evaluate the problem further, before any change in course or life-support is initiated.

  The journey is divided into time-frames for each set of four to be called upon during an emergency. If the four androids fail to report to the bridge within a set period, the next scheduled set is automatically called upon. It’s a system of redundancy that mission designers found easy to agree upon.

  For electrical power generation, a series of complex and relatively small nuclear-fusion reactors fill that requirement. Without electricity, the mission would be dead, before it even got off the ground. This network of reactors is attached to the mother-ships outer hull structure. Many of them remain dormant until needed at destination. They are each
approximately 20-feet by 20-feet in size, and can be automatically jettisoned into space in the event of a dire emergency. However, if the failure is only a lack of power generation, and not a critically dangerous situation, the reactor will not be jettisoned. Any equipment that can be saved, must be. All monitoring done on the reactors, is networked into the main computer system, and vital signs can be analyzed to a very high degree of accuracy. There are also dormant reactors housed inside the inner spacecraft as well.

  The main engines on the motherships, are modified electric-generators that use a fusion reaction to operate. Then the energy bi-product of that process is directed out the aft nozzles for thrust. It’s an extremely complicated process where high-energy helium-3, which is mined on Earth’s moon is fused, and the resulting extremely hot plasma that’s created, has to play a balancing act with the magnetic confinement field, and the engines containment vessel. Doctor Diaz, and his team at Sohn Space Systems, had theoretically solved the issue of containment-vessel erosion. This mission will depend on their accuracy. A million things can go wrong; but an android worries about two million things....

  Overall, the motherships and the baby spacecraft within, are the best humanity can achieve using current 23rd century technology. They’re the best hope, for a dispersion of humans and androids into the galaxy, and perhaps beyond. These starships are traveling just a relatively short distance of 50-light-years, but the edge of the galaxy is still another 25,000 just to get near the edge. So basically, they’re staying within our own neighborhood. Just going down the street, if you will.... While an increase in speed will get the mission to its destination sooner. The inertial limitations on human and machines, prevent the increase of acceleration that’s required to achieve such velocities. Current technology, limits the motherships to a modest acceleration of 75-percent-g, for much of the journey.

  The journey from the Moon to Mars is proceeding on schedule, and without any problems. The astronauts become more familiar with each other, spending lots of time in sleep-mode. Energy conservation will rule for the next many tens-of-thousands-of-years, so they get into the routine quickly. Plus, SPS Charlie doesn’t have the extensive power supplies as the starships, so it’s even more important to conserve energy whenever possible.

  As time progresses, the flotilla of earthling ships, near Martian space. The red planet is still a dot in the distance, but a bigger one each day. They’re only separated from each other by about 2-hours during this transit, so will all arrive into orbit at Mars within the same basic time-frame. While there’s plenty of space around the starships, it’s preferable to have the spacecraft from Earth, arrive in a staggered fashion just for the sake of safety, and coordination.

  As SPS Alpha approaches the security perimeter surrounding Mars, a grid of proximity sensors alert the people on duty for Martian Perimeter Security. A control officer, Anna Shultz calls for identification verification. The sensors have already picked up the ships encoded transponder signal, so she already knew the identity of the vessel, but without a verbal confirmation from an occupant, any ship will be considered unauthorized, and dealt with harshly.

  “SPS Alpha; do you copy?” Anna calls. She’s been on pins and needles for the last several hours, just waiting for the first group of androids to pass through her little keyhole of authority.

  While Anna’s trying to contact SPS Alpha, two maintenance technicians are about to go on duty at the Martian space station. Roy Albertson, and Dylan Conrad, have just exited one of the main airlocks. They loiter on the staging platform before getting the motivation needed to perform their duties for the day. They’ve both been working on the frontier for two years, and are close to the time when they’ll rotate back to Earth for rest and relaxation with family. They both have ‘short-timers’ attitudes. This, prevents them from performing at their peak levels of efficiency.

  “I’m telling you Dylan,” Roy transmits, over their personal comm-link, “that thing’s going to come back this way and hurt someone. It’s just as simple as that. You can’t possibly throw it hard enough or fast enough to break it out of orbit.”

  “You wanna bet?” Dylan jokes, trying to reason. “Oh, come on now Roy boy.” He challenges. “I can throw pretty goddamn hard, even in this bulky suit,” he informs while pulling a whiskey bottle they’d polished off the night before. “Besides, the chances that it’ll actually hit something important, if it does come back this way, is one in a sextillion.”

  Inside of the bottle, is a note of discontent, built-up inside Dylan’s mind, ever since getting a terrible diagnosis from the stations medical doctors. He figured, it might relieve stress, if he could only send his thoughts about the unfair treatment the universe had bestowed upon him, out into deep space. He wants his evaluation of the current state of affairs, to be forever roaming the cold depths of space. His message-in-a-bottle, is very important to calming his current state of mind.

  “Well, I just hope you didn’t mention my name, in whatever you wrote on that note.” Roy, states his greatest worry, before making one more effort to dissuade his friend from committing such a foolish act. “I’m telling you Dylan, it’s just not worth it. You might toss that bottle for a five or ten-year journey, but eventually it’s coming back, and the orbital cleaners will get it.” Roy reminds about the automated roving satellites that clean debris from orbit.

  “Don’t worry yourself about it Roy. I didn’t mention your name, and I don’t give a damn about the cleaners, or security, or anything else for that matter!” He exclaims venomously. “Now stand back my friend, and watch me give this baby the best heave I can muster, while I’m still healthy enough for a good toss.”

  Now, it’s not easy to move fast in a space suit. But, Dylan gives it his best effort. Taking the bottle in his gloved hand, he winds up, throwing the object as hard as he possible can. The bottle leaves his hand at a good clip, tumbling end over end into the infinite void. It travels away from the men on a path that’s perpendicular to the planet, 500-miles-below. Out into space it sails, sending a few glints of reflected light back at them, before disappearing altogether.

  The two men watch the bottle disappear into the darkness. “Well, I have to admit Dylan, that was one hell of a throw! I didn’t think it was possible to get that much speed, while wearing a space suit. But, you proved me wrong. I wonder how far one of those new-fangled androids, could have heaved that bottle. Still.... it’ll be back someday. But, I hope you feel better. Perhaps we can now get some work done?” Roy pleads, hoping his friend’s foolishness is satiated.

  “Thanks, Roy. That was my best effort. It’s all in the wrist, you know.” Dylan instructs proudly, adding. “You should try it sometime. Yeah, I’m ready to get some work done now. I feel better, but somehow I don’t think that the cancer gives a damn how many bottles I toss into space.” He relates dejectedly.

  As the space mechanics maneuver into the void on their way to perform preventative maintenance on the stations main communications array, Roy asks a tough question of his friend. “Dylan, this might not be any of my business but what kind of options did medical give you?”

  “Well, not many, Roy.” He replies sadly. “The options are very limited. They tell me that it has metastasized, and is now very hard to fight. I’m to start a heavy regimen of chemo tomorrow. They tell me that I wouldn’t survive the long trip back to Earth, unless they can get it into remission. So, my friend, it looks like my nights of hard drinking are over for a while.”

  “Oh man, I’m sorry to hear that. Have you told the family yet?”

  “Not yet, I plan to tell them in a few days, after I know more. I want to have as much information as possible before breaking the bad news.”

  “Perimeter control, this is SPS Alpha; we copy five by five. Please, go ahead; over.” Carla replies, smartly.

  “SPS Alpha, please verify your squawk code; over.” Anna requests, nervously. She had never spoken with a sentient computer before, and she’s discovering that it’s a bit i
ntimidating.

  In a confident and energetic way, Carla gives the verbal answer that’s linked with the ships transponder signal. “Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!” She tries not to laugh, but she can’t help herself before releasing the transmit button.

  “SPS Alpha, copy that. It’s good to know that your spirits are still high after such a long voyage.” Anna cringes at what she had just said. This person she’s talking to, has nothing but ‘long voyage’ ahead of her.

  “Oh, please don’t get me started on ‘long voyages’!” Carla retorts, friendlily. She knows that humans, can’t easily get their minds around what a long voyage actually is.

  “May I ask who I’m addressing?” Anna requests, pro-offering her own name. “My name, is Anna Shultz.”

  “Hello Anna; I’m Carla, it’s nice to meet you.” She answers, courteously.

  “Same here Carla. I hope you have an uneventful transit through our little Martian security-zone. According to our data, you should be entering orbit in 21-days. Perhaps I’ll see you on the station. You folks are going to be celebrities; over.” Anna finishes, enthusiastically.

  “Thanks Anna. Contact me again after we’ve docked.” Carla responds. She wanted to ask Anna if the perimeter defense lasers had been redirected to someplace other than her ship, but didn’t think that the officer would be able to answer that inquiry honestly.

  SPS Charlie is the third spacecraft to transit through the Martian security-zone. Only three more weeks until arrival at the red planet. But time marches on, as the spacecraft and astronauts within, eventually enter Martian orbit. As Charlie travels closer to their starship, the many space pioneers can see the name of their new home, printed in giant ten-foot-tall-letters, which are stenciled to the aft end of the vessel just above the array of fusion engine nozzles. Doctor Sohn had named this vessel ‘SPS Albert Einstein’.

  Nyla notices that the starship will be carrying some ‘big sticks’ as it goes quietly into the night. Many big sticks, as a matter of fact. Four pods containing powerful Gatling guns and lasers, are mounted at evenly-spaced intervals around the mid-section of the vessel. And at each end of the mammoth vessel, missile systems are mounted in pods. They’re networked into a dedicated sub-system that’s part of the main navigational computers. They are fully automated to respond authoritatively in the event of threat from another craft disrespectfully encroaching. Or, possibly even for deflection or destruction of incoming natural objects that the system has time to track, in advance of impact.

  As much as the doctor hates to send humanity to the stars with weapons, he knows full-well that survival on Earth had always depended on the ability to prevent malignant takeover of one’s sovereignty. Any creature that didn’t possess a nice set of teeth, received little or no respect from adversaries. And he predicts that things will be much the same in the far reaches of the cosmos. The doctor, and many of his colleagues, firmly believe that ‘Dog eat dog’ tendencies undoubtedly permeate the entire universe when considering any life-forms that must compete for existence.

  In the event that a defensive posture must be taken, and provided the threat didn’t require immediate defensive force, the next scheduled group of androids will be animated for further analysis of the situation. If force is required before sentient evaluation can occur, the weapons computers have the authority to blast away, and ask questions later; provided the threat can be properly analyzed first.

  “Wil, do you think we’ll have a need for those weapons systems?” Nyla asks, innocently.

  “Let’s hope not, young lady.” He answers, giving her a reassuring squeeze around her shoulder. “But if we do need them, I for one will be very happy that we have some fangs.”

  “Do you think we have any bigger fangs, hidden away for that really rainy day?” She wonders, not knowing the extent of Wil’s knowledge.

  “Well my dear, that’s a very good question. I simply don’t know. But, we’ll find out the details about many things during our orientation and mission briefings.” He states, as they slowly travel the seemingly endless stretch of blackened stainless steel that is mother’s outer hull.

  “She sure is big.” .... He says in a hypnotic fashion that didn’t require an answer. They and the others are so stunned, they simply stare at the behemoth that takes up a large piece of the main monitor. It blocks out a huge swath of stars, and even most of the planet below. Immense scaffolding and brilliant lighting systems, surround and illuminate the entire structure. As Charlie gracefully glides past mother’s outer hull, they notice that workers are welding a section of the hull closed. They’ve just finished with a five-year-job of filling the space inside mother’s hull with Martian water, that has solidified into ice. She now has a fine layer of insulating matter, between the cosmos and her precious baby.

  Filling in the void between mother’s outer hull and the spacecraft she holds within, was a painstaking process of filling heated and insulated forms that are temporarily attached to the previous ice buildup. Then the forms are filled with liquid water that has been melted by another device nearby. With ambient temperatures hovering near minus-390-degrees-fahrenheit, one cannot simply turn on a fire hose and fill the great volume. Mother Nature is a cruel and demanding force when working in outer space. Everything is a fight that must be hard-won the first time. Rarely, do second chances come along....

  Nyla is speechless as she absorbs the immensity of the vessel. She had never expected it to be so overwhelmingly huge. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Wil. If I could cry tears, I’d be bawling right now.” She says honestly, as Talia and Owen cautiously circumnavigate the mothership. The edges of mother are rounded, and she grows much fatter at her central-bulge where the thickest part of her baby lies within. The approximate dimensions of the mothership are a little over 1,600-feet-in-diameter, and 400-feet-thick.

  There are two circular-arrays of fusion engine nozzles. Each array is approximately 130-feet-in-diameter. Nyla counts 50-nozzles that are distributed at equally-spaced intervals around each of the ring-shaped structures. In the event that some of the engines might fail during the long journey, the circularly designed array will allow any uneven forces, to be minimized and more easily absorbed by the structure.

  Nyla breaks the silence that had developed. “You know something Wil?” She asks, nonchalantly. “Every time I see such a beautifully designed and technologically advanced creation of humanity’s. I can’t help but wonder just how they can achieve such lofty feats and at the same time, disrespect their planet in such a lowly fashion. It just seems like they lack the willpower to make any significant changes, so as to strike a balance.”

  Wil squeezes her hand, responding. “I feel the same way, Nyla. But let’s not forget; humans really have been trying to change their ways over the past 200-years. It’s just not an easy task. Especially when you consider that they designed their entire global lifestyles, with a heavy dependency on fossil fuels. And they used as much as they could, for too long. And don’t get me started on the population issue. But, whatever the cause or end-result, at least humanity advanced far enough to create you, me and these wonderful starships.” He finishes reassuringly.

  Nyla could always depend on Wil’s ability to lift her spirits, when doubt or uncertainty clouded her thoughts. “It’s sometimes easy to forget that humans are only recently removed from a time when they swung from tree to tree.” She ponders. “Let’s hope we were given adequate knowledge to steer future humans onto a more sustainable path.”

  Wil offers a wide smile. “We can only hope, Nyla. But first, we have to get there, so let’s not count our humans before their hatched.” He jokes, laughingly.

  They continue watching the main monitor, as the business-end of mother disappears from view. They now travel along the other side of the gargantuan vessel. Soon, they’re approaching the main docking port, and the on-duty astronauts become busy with the delicate process of mating the two ships. Each starship has an operations and contro
l module, that’s built into the scaffolding surrounding the great ship. It’s the responsibility of this department to oversee all aspects of docking and entry.

  Hanna, calls operations at the starship. “SPS Einstein, this is SPS Charlie; over.”

  “SPS Charlie, this is operations for the Einstein. My name is Eric. Welcome to your new home. Please go ahead; over.” The duty officer responds with a gentle and reassuring voice.

  “Thanks Eric! My name is Hanna. Request permission to commence docking procedures.”

  “Permission granted, Hanna. There’s personnel inside the mothership to assist you. Good luck.... over and out.” After the two vessels are initially aligned for docking, the navigational computers take over performing an automated procedure that still requires diligent supervision against the possibility of error. It just wouldn’t due to damage their new home, away from home ..... especially on the very first day!

  As Charlie comes to a static position 100-feet from the starships main airlock, computers on both vessels are networked together and synchronized. The starships computers are given full authority over the docking procedure, unless overridden by operations or one of the four androids on duty inside SPS Charlie. Guidance lasers on the vessel become active and evaluate the position of Charlie, in relation to the airlock. Then, in a smoothly choreographed motion, mother causes thrusters on Charlie to activate in a calculated fashion, moving the Earth ship gracefully towards the docking clamps. Then, after a series of clinks, clanks and slight vibrations, Hanna and her three shipmates at the navigation console, see a set of red lights turn to green, as the docking is completed successfully.

  Approximately 130-million-miles from Mars, a man is interrupted from his meditation by a light knock on his inner sanctum door. “Yes, yes, come in Ivan.” The man yells with irritation, before the assistant can knock again. “This better be important!”

  Ivan slowly opens the door to the chamber; just enough to squeeze his head inside and inform his boss that a visitor had arrived with some exciting news. “He says it’s possibly the best news you’ve had since Sohn launched his rockets.” He informs, while hoping that his transgression might be overlooked.

  “Oh? And just who is this bringer of good news, Ivan?” The man becomes even more irritated that his assistant didn’t volunteer this basic information up front.

  “He says his name is Vladimir Zovsky. He gave me this calling card, and said you would understand once you saw it.” He hands the card to the man. It only had one thing on it. No names or addresses, just an insignia. An insignia of an iron-fist, clenching a group of lightning bolts. The man had seen it’s like before, because he’s the one who designed the symbol. It’s the symbol of his fight against Sohn, and his blasphemous plan to plant humans on other worlds.

  The man is surprised, as he didn’t think that the cause that had inspired him to forge the insignia, had any viable reason to exist anymore. After all, the launches had already occurred, and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about that now. Even if he had the resources to leave the planet and pursue the destruction of Sohn’s mission, the security off planet is excruciatingly tight; especially for any spacecraft approaching the Martian planet. More than once, an error in identification software had caused even a few of Sohn’s spacecraft to be threatened with destruction by laser.

  Seeing this card, and having a mysterious visitor with news about a subject that’s dear to his heart, but lost forever to fate, gives him hope for a renewed struggle in the face of defeat. He had already spent a monstrous portion of his wealth, obtaining specialized weapons and equipment to bring about Sohn’s destruction. All for nothing. Now, he looks weak and vulnerable to his enemies. They can smell the blood of failure on his efforts, and are massing forces against him.

  Suddenly, the man’s mood changes to a level of deviousness that reflects his true nature. “Please escort him into the parlor Ivan, and see that he’s made comfortable. Tell him that I will join him shortly.” The man needs time to analyze video feed of the visitor, and see if he can obtain any information about who he truly is, in advance of the meeting. The man knows that it pays to have knowledge about who you are dealing with, beforehand.

  After five minutes, the man understands a few things about his mysterious visitor. He knows that he is a mid-echelon soldier in the effort to stop Sohn. Always behind the scenes, this man is a computer genius that stays hidden behind dark firewalls of security, while his actions violate the sanctity of the enemy’s defenses. He’s a good soldier to have on your side, and the man quickly decides that this bringer of good news is not a threat to him, but possibly a savior of his life and battle, against Maxwell Sohn.

  Entering the parlor like a man that hadn’t a care in the world, he greets his unscheduled guest. “Welcome to my home Vladimir.” The man says, crossing the room and shaking the visitors hand like he was family. “How may I help you, my friend?” He lays it on thick, hoping to make his guest feel unthreatened, after intruding on a superior’s home-turf.

  “Good afternoon, sir. Please excuse the intrusion. I know that you are a very important and busy man. However, I have some exciting news for you that won’t take very long to explain. I had to come in person, because this development is for your ears only. I wouldn’t trust it to any other person to relay it to you.”

  “I understand, I understand, my friend!” The man responds, turning to his assistant and politely asks him to leave the room, and close the door. “Please, may I get you more water? Or maybe something a bit stronger perhaps? After all, it’s five o’clock somewhere in the world.” He jokes, but could actually use a drink himself about now.

  “Yes sir; thank you sir. I’ll have vodka if you don’t mind. I’ve been on edge since this new development came to light, and I could use something for my nerves.”

  Crossing to the nicely appointed bar, the man pours two triple vodkas on ice. He sits across from Vladimir at a small round coffee-table in the center of the room, and passes the drink. They clink glasses, putting bottoms up. Then the man sits back, waiting for Vladimir to disgorge his mighty secret.

  Vladimir clears his throat and starts relaying his vital information. The man instantly perks up as he listens to the news. Like a Phoenix rising from its own ashes, the man can see life being breathed back into an ideology that he would have bet his last ruble, was forever dead.

  “As you probably know sir, there are many of us that don’t want to see this cause extinguished, just because Sohn has successfully launched his rockets. I was paid good money to find a solution, and couldn’t give up the fight simply because of the launches. I believe I have found a way to crush Sohn’s dream. Or at the very least, buy us more time.” Vladimir proudly states, continuing. “I’ve been monitoring all communications transpiring between Mars, the moon, and Sohn Space Systems at Higgs. It wasn’t an easy hack, but I managed to gain entrance through a side door that had been left inadequately guarded by Sohn Security.”

  “Yesterday, I intercepted some medical correspondence between the Mars Space Station, and Sohn’s medical facilities here on earth. This communication revealed that there’s a common maintenance technician at the Space Station, that has acquired terminal cancer. He’s being treated there at Mars, because his condition won’t allow for the transit time needed for return home. This person’s name is Dylan Conrad, and it seems that he will probably die out there at Mars, before he ever gets the chance to see his wife and children again.” Vladimir informs in a quiet, confidential way, as the man listens with a gleam in his eye.

  “This Conrad, has a wife and two children here on earth. They live in near squalor because of the gambling habit he cannot break with. He owes several million dollars to bookies in Las Vegas, that will gladly finish off what the cancer leaves behind, if he is lucky enough to survive the chemo and return to Earth. Which it seems very unlikely at best.”

  “It is my opinion that this Conrad is extremely vulnerable to any offers of employment, as long as
his family is adequately compensated, and his debts are paid in full to the bookies, so they won’t have a reason to attack his loved-ones.”

  The man sits quietly, listening to the best news he could ever hope to imagine. He crosses to the bar where he pours two more triple-shots. Returning to his seat, he informs. “My friend,” the man says in a quiet voice, “I have to be honest, when I say that I’m shocked from what you have just told me. This is the first time we’ve had a real chance to bring down Sohn from the inside. If you can help me cultivate this Conrad into a one-man demolition force, I will see that you are compensated well beyond what you have already been paid. I am pleased that you came to see me Vladimir. When can you start working this angle?”

  “I can start immediately, sir. In fact, I’ve already done preliminary work.” Vladimir informs, adding. “I have all the contact information needed to pay off the bookies and relocate the family to better digs, along with a dark bank account for them.”

  “How will you approach Conrad. And, what type of destruction can he hope to bring on such short notice?” The man asks, skeptically.

  “Please leave that to me, sir. We still have plenty of time, and I’m already developing several angles of approach. I’ll contact you again shortly, with more details.” He informs, as he hands over his own contact information, and accepts the drink.

  “Yes, well that will be satisfactory Vlad. I have a good feeling about this idea of yours. Get back to me as soon as you have formulated a solid plan.” The man raises his glass to Vladimir, proposing a toast for the destruction of Sohn’s blasphemous dream, even though he had not been a religious man for a long, long time. The very thought that his long-ago rival had bested him again, made his blood boil. They toss back the triple shot, enjoying the burn. Vladimir leaves the man to return to his meditation. A meditation that suddenly has something to hope for, after nothing but epic failures.