Breaking Interstellar: Android Lives Matter

by Michael Tobin

  Chapter Fourteen: Mars

  Nyla and her teammates will be the first of the space pioneers to see the inside of their new home. After all, she and Wil are the most senior androids in the ships compliment, also in the entire fleet for that matter. So, the honor just naturally goes to them. As Nyla floats in front of the airlock controls, a video display illuminates with the cheerful face of a woman on the other side of the airlock. The woman engages an intercom; “Hello over there!” she greets excitedly. “My name is Amy Herschel; I’m the chief engineer, here on the Einstein. Welcome to all of you. Are you ready to open your airlocks?”

  “Hello over there!” Nyla monkeys Amy’s greeting friendlily. “My name is Nyla; and it’s very nice to meet you too, Amy.” She greets. “And yes, I’m ready to open. We respectfully request permission to come aboard!” She defaults excitedly, to an old naval term that’s easily made the transition into space flight, as it offers a significant layer of respect. Especially during a ‘changing of the guard’, as this is.

  While Amy is sad to see her ‘baby’ leave the nest, she’s extremely happy for the moment. She cracks a smile, that might cause an android pain if they tried to reproduce it. “Permission Granted!” She had been waiting years to say those words for real.... and it feels so good! She thinks excitedly.

  Nyla floats in front of her control panel, gingerly entering the codes that’ll allow for equalization of air pressure between the two spacecraft. Her anxiety builds, against the excitement of seeing her new home for the first time. She can somehow sense Wil’s cautious anxiety, as he floats closely behind her. These feelings of hazy extrasensory-perception and even déjà vu, have been impinging on her mind lately. She has never spoken with Wil about it, but the thought crosses her mind from time to time.

  When equilibrium has been reached between the two vessels, Nyla opens the inner hatch and then the outer hatch of SPS Charlie’s airlock, revealing the exterior surface of the outer most entrance hatch to the starship. After 10-seconds, computers verify their previous findings and allow both of mother’s airlock hatches to open simultaneously. This caution on the part of the life-support computers, is due to the unusual request. Normally, both inner and outer hatches cannot be opened simultaneously; this prevents any chance for explosive decompression of the entire atmosphere within a spacecraft. However, with all conditions met, the computers allow an override of this normally wise safety feature, and all airlock hatches between the two vessels are allowed to open and remain that way until further command.

  Nyla moves to the side, offering Wil the chance to enter first, but he would have none of it. “Please Nyla, after you,” he insists sincerely, as he floats closer and gives her a peck on the cheek. “I would carry you across the threshold, but seeing as you don’t have any weight, I’ll just give you a push.” He gives her a slight nudge and she gracefully floats into their new home. Her facial expression, like that of a long-time adrenaline junkie, that has just found another fix.

  “Well, thanks Wil. I knew there was a gentleman in there someplace.” She says laughingly, as she slowly moves away. Wil, and their many shipmates, following closely.

  Amy, patiently waits on the other side. “Hello again.” She says warmly, as Nyla floats across the threshold. She extends her hand, greeting in a more intimate fashion, as the lovely android floats slowly past. It’s her first physical encounter with a sentient android. The thrill sends her to cloud nine....

  “Hi Amy!” She greets with a firm handshake as she passes, not wishing to stop and cause an interstellar pile-up. Everyone wants to exit SPS Charlie, and exit is what they do. And while there are a lot of them, Amy still manages to grip each and every one of their hands as they pass. She revels in the sensation of shaking a computers hand. A hand that might one-day guide her own offspring! This is because she has added even more to the mission than just her time and expertise. Her own biological-samples will go to the stars with this very group of intelligent machines. After many of the mechanical people had passed, she calls out. “Please feel free to continue on to the next set of airlocks.”

  “Copy that Amy!” Nyla yells, as she floats ahead of the metallic tsunami. She travels further into the mothership, passing just beyond the airlock staging-room. Then, proximity-sensors turn on a series of lights, illuminating a long, white-surfaced tunnel ahead of her. As she floats along the icy tube-like passage by use of handholds, she realizes that the ice thickness in this area must be more than the 60-foot-average. Calculatingly, she suspects the tunnel at about 90-feet-long.

  After reaching the end of the long entrance tunnel, Nyla finds another airlock. This one belongs to the baby ship where she and her shipmates will live. The hatch opens, and a man extends his hand in greeting. “Hello young lady.” He extends his glance to the long line of others behind her. “And hello to all of you, too! My name is Eric Summers, director of operations for the Einstein; please allow me to welcome all of you to your new home. Follow me inside, where there is more elbow room.” He turns to lead the way, while Amy stays behind to make sure the hatches are securely closed after the last android had passed.

  Nyla and the others, follow Eric through the second airlock and into another tunnel that’s not as long as the first. But, this one is obviously made of steel, not ice. It makes a steady arc to the right. Soon, the group of astronauts arrive at the largest empty compartment on the inner ship; the handball court. As the android’s trickle in, he calls on the radio. “Amy; do you copy?”

  “I copy, Erik.” Amy responds. “Both of mother’s outer airlocks, are closed and sealed.”

  Thanks, Amy. Please do the same with the inner airlock, and joins us here.” Eric instructs.

  “Copy that, I’m on my way.” She answers, floating along the tunnel, following the last of the androids. For about 5-minutes, the 52 space pioneers float into the handball compartment and choose places to hover while not getting into each other’s way too much.

  When Eric notices that everyone had found a space to occupy, he gets down to the business at hand. “Once again, I wish to welcome all of you to your new; temporary home. It is our wish here at the interstellar-transit staging area, to make your visit and departure, an enjoyable and safe experience. Of the four starships, only two are 100-percent ready to go. And those two are not going on the same trajectories. So, it will be approximately seven or eight days, before the other two ships are ready for the journey. This will allow time for all of you to experience life on the space station, if you so choose.”

  Eric, continues. “If any of you left anything behind on Charlie, please let me know so we can retrieve it. Otherwise,” he checks his watch, “that ship will be relocated to mother’s cargo receiving airlock, within the next 5-minutes, so the goodies you folks brought from earth can be transferred to this vessel. Then, Charlie will be taken to what we affectionately call the graveyard where he’ll await recycling.” Noticing that none need to return, he continues.

  Motioning to another person that has just entered the compartment and floats at his side. “I’m sure you have all met this pretty young lady, but I’ll introduce her again; this is Amy Herschel. She’s the Einstein’s Chief Engineer, and will be in charge of conducting the orientation and tour of this fine spacecraft that will be your home into the foreseeable future. Now that she is here, I’ll give her the floor .... so to speak.” He finishes with a hearty laugh.

  Amy is surrounded by a gaggle of eager and attentive androids that float throughout the compartment. All eyes are glued on her as they hover in layer-cake formation from floor to ceiling. She begins to feel an emotion that’s quite foreign to her; intimidation. Trying to convey pertinent information to a group of computers that already have most of it stored in their memory banks, can be a little disconcerting. However, she quickly pushes that uneasy feeling to the back of her mind, addressing a topic that is dear to her heart; the mothership, and the baby within.

  “Good day to all of you, and once again welcome to the SPS Alb
ert Einstein. I hope you all had an enjoyable journey from Earth.” She begins with a polite and general greeting. “Now, what I’m about to tell you, is more of a refresher course than anything else. I can only hope that some of the information will be new. However, new or not, I just want to say that I’m very proud to be the person who introduces you to your new home, and the many systems that make her come alive. As you already know, this ship is traveling a distance of approximately 50-light-years, and arriving at a star system with an Earth-like planet that has been tentatively named Oberon Prime. The journey will take about 175,000-years.... depending on traffic conditions,” She says, laughingly. Nyla gets a chuckle out of the quip, but also knows that unexpected things can and will happen out there.

  Amy, raises both arms, indicating the immense vessel surrounding them. “The very large vessel that you saw on your inbound journey is the mothership. It’s baby, deep inside the ice-pack, is the ship we’re now in. As you all know by now, mother’s ice-pack will provide the necessary shielding for such a voyage. She not only provides those protections, but is also jam-packed with many of the necessities that are needed at destination, but could not fit into this inner vessel. Things like dormant fusion reactors, modules of food and medical supplies, and weapon systems.” She continues, describing more of the general information.

  Before long, she decides that what information remains of the orientation can be easily related while the group tours the spacecraft that will be their new home. She’s very impressed at the professional way the metallic people are conducting themselves. Now that she’s finally meeting them, she has quickly come to the realization that with a bit of luck, Doctor Sohn’s seemingly impossible dream, may actually have an excellent chance for success. She gathers her charges and begins the real orientation, as they float out of the large compartment and head towards the command bridge.

  On the space station, an alarm clock indicates 0800 hours. Dylan Conrad rolls over to silence the terrible noise. Lately, it’s not easy getting the motivation needed to start a new day. Another visit to medical is scheduled for 0900, and it’s important to be there on time. His treatment regimen must be accomplished like clockwork, and so far, it seems to be getting the better of him. He’s lost much weight and energy in the past three weeks, and he wonders if it will ever get better.

  Sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, he tries to gain the focus needed to prepare for the day. Everything seems to be piling up on him lately. He isn’t sure which will kill him first; the illness, the chemo, or worrying about his wife and children back on Earth. He’s squandered the family fortunes, as it were, by gambling away his paychecks in hopes of winning it big. The insidious lure of never having to work again, is too much to control. It’s a sickness that he just can’t seem to conquer, and continues to nurture, even though his life is spiraling out of control. The next paycheck will be the one that brings him back from oblivion! He’s sure of it! …. He can taste it! Reaching and picking up his data pad, he notices that there’s a new video from Earth. It’s not from his wife, who is reaching the end of her patience with him, and he didn’t recognize the sender.

  Life for his wife and children had severely deteriorated during the past eight months; while much of the money he earns, never reaches her bank account. Also, it only exasperates the situation, when she receives threatening phone calls from strangers demanding money that she didn’t have. Opening the video, Dylan sees a disguised face of what seems to be an old man. Even without the fake beard, mustache and dark glasses, Dylan is sure he’s a stranger.

  When the man begins to speak, the voice is also disguised, almost to the point of incoherency. Dylan can’t help but think that the bookies he’s been trying to avoid, had finally caught up with him. But, as the man continues speaking, he realizes that this was not sent from any bookie. However, when the man in the video holds up a photo of his wife and children, he quickly realizes that this is much worse than just a threat from some bill collectors.

  “I’m sure you recognize the people in this photo Mr. Conrad.” The man mumbles sarcastically. “From what I’m able to ascertain, these loved ones of yours have fallen on hard times here on Earth. And, I also understand that you have also fallen on hard times, out there at Mars. Furthermore, you have managed to compound those difficulties by losing a very large sum of money to some rather bad people in Las Vegas.”

  Dylan pauses the video. He’s shocked that whoever this is, has some extremely sensitive information concerning his personal affairs. Sitting on the edge of his bed in the gloomy compartment, he works up the courage to continue. But, having started the video, it’s impossible for him to not let it play out to the bitter end. Courageously, he pushes play once again.

  “I am the man who can make two of those very bad things go away.” The man indicates, causing Dylan to perk. “From what I can ascertain from your medical reports, you seem to have an extremely poor chance for long term survival.” The man doesn’t mince words. “I am sure that this statement doesn’t come as a shock to you. Perhaps the people you owe money to, will not seek payment in the event of your passing. However, they just might. And while they can’t get money from a dead-man, they can still make your family pay. With their blood, if necessary. After all, several million dollars in unpaid debt, can make some people very vengeful. And, murder is what these people do when big loans go south. They’ll do this without any conscientiousness or remorse, whatsoever. After all, if they do nothing, their competition will smell weakness and failure.” The man describes some of the subtle nuances of the criminal world, before continuing.

  “I have a job offer you should listen to very carefully. And if you decide to go with it, I shall see to it that your wife and children are compensated with ten-million-dollars in a dark bank account. They’ll be free to enjoy life once again. Furthermore, I will see to it that the scum in Las Vegas get what they have coming. Now, you don’t know me, and never will. But, if you agree to this job offer, you can easily check to see that I am a man of my word.” He states, before continuing with a warning.

  “However, I don’t know you either. But I can honestly tell you, that if you do go with my offer, and then back out after the money has been paid, you’ll find that I can make your troubles infinitely worse than they are right now. I can easily make the bad things the bookies threaten you with, seem like child’s play.” The man warns, and then adds for clarity. “I will not mince words with you, Mr. Conrad. I will only tell you this.... like the shylocks in Vegas, I too am a murderer. I am that, and worse. Much, much worse. Now, that’s not bragging, it’s just a simple fact that you need to fully comprehend. Now, here’s my proposal. I strongly recommend that you consider it carefully .... Very carefully.” The man warns again, before laying out his master-plan for revenge.

  Dylan, sits quietly on the edge of his bed after the video ended. He just couldn’t get his mind around what the man had proposed. After all, he has gone through 42-years of life, and had never murdered anyone. He may very well be, what some might consider a shallow, small-minded man. One who thrives on instant gratification and booze, but he didn’t consider himself to be a murderer. Especially not a mass-murderer, like the man in the video suggested that he become. “God, I need a drink!” He mumbles venomously, working up the energy to get dressed and head off to medical.

  Nyla follows Amy out of the large compartment, the others follow. They float down a short corridor leading to the circular command-bridge of the spacecraft. As they enter, the first thing they notice is the amazing view of the outside universe. Above the many consoles, a circular display gives the illusion that space is just a few feet away. Some of the androids are more preoccupied with the view, than where they are going; many collisions, before everyone finds a place to hover.

  One side of the circular display is illuminated with Mars as a backdrop, and the other side is almost dark, with just the dim illumination from the Milky Way. If one were to look closely, they could see lights on various huma
n-made structures in the far distance. It’s a beautiful site which makes the compartment seem much larger, than it actually is.

  Amy describes the equipment, after everybody had entered and situated in the now tight space. Normally, the bridge can comfortably accommodate eight people. At least, that’s how many seats are available at the control consoles. Today, its occupancy-rating is greatly taxed. However, at 30-feet-in-diameter, it’s still quite spacious. And without gravity, the large number of androids can hover in places that allows for all to listen to what she has to offer.

  She describes the command-chair and the controls that are located within easy reach of the occupant. “This is the acting commanders chair. The side-panel on the left, is where any data concerning defensive requirements will be displayed. From this panel, all six ‘attitude-adjustment’ pods on mother’s hull can be controlled.” Many of the android’s, get a chuckle from the term with which she had tagged the pods. The side-panel on the right, has all the communication controls that may be required. As you all know, after leaving our solar system, communication with Earth must be kept to a minimum, to reduce the electronic footprint that could lead any predators to the ship. Of course, we don’t know for sure if there actually are any predators out there, but mathematics points to a yes. To flaunt one’s position during times of uncertainty, is not recommended.” She notices nods of agreement, as she continues.

  “While the pods lasers have an almost unlimited supply of energy available, the solid projectiles that are perhaps the most effective deterrent, are limited in number.” She relates the defensive facts with a sad tone. “That being said, there is also a battery of modified anti-tank missiles at each end of the mothership. One battery points forward, and one points aft. There are 200-missiles-per-pod. One reason for the many weapon systems, is because this ship is not built for maneuverability. She’s a fast-moving behemoth, that takes a long time to change velocity. Any defensive posturing must be accomplished while maintaining a linear trajectory. Each of the control pads that are located on the armrests themselves, are supplemental in nature, and allow for micro-management of the many systems that will normally be controlled automatically by mother’s computers. However, in the event of dire emergency, this position can override mother’s authority.”

  Amy continues. “There will be times when this command chair and the other positions, will feel g-forces from different directions. So, for these times, all positions can be rotated into the direction of that force.” Next, she leaves the command chair and skillfully floats past many bodies to gain access to the navigation console. Here she describes just the basics. “Much of this navigation console is more for data review, than actual manipulation. This journey is designed to be conducted by automated processes. However, it can easily be overridden if necessary.” She informs, then instructs. “This portion of the console, is where any new data concerning a course correction will be entered. Fortunately, none of you drink liquids, so the usual cause for console malfunction is dramatically reduced.” She laugh’s lightheartedly.

  Pushing light-footedly away from the navigation console, she floats through a forest of android bodies. She stops her forward momentum against the life-support console. “Now, this console may be the one that will require the most monitoring. It displays all the critical data concerning not only the air pressure and temperature inside this part of the ship, but also the environment within the cryo-preservation chambers. While that environment is controlled automatically, the system must still be monitored periodically, to help ensure viability at destination. Now, before I continue, are there any questions?”

  Wil notices that nobody seems to be coming forward with a question for the lovely lady, so he makes effort, even though he already knew the answer. “Yes Amy, I have a question.” He informs. “You mentioned that the attitude-adjustment pods have a limited supply of solid projectiles. Can you please be more specific, if possible?” He asks, innocently.

  Amy brightens with a wide smile. “Yes, thank you for the question. The four pods are operated independently from each other, and have their own supply of projectiles. Each one, has a magazine containing 200,000-rounds of 90-caliber projectiles, utilizing depleted uranium to assist with penetration. The rounds are normally discharged in 3-round-bursts, but can be fired in a fully automatic fashion if the target persists.” She reports, with a gleam in her eye.

  Wil, is satisfied with the answer, and has no further questions. “Thanks Amy. It’s comforting to know, that at least we won’t die from the lack of shooting back,” he finishes with a laugh that’s echoed from others around the compartment. Then he stealthily nudges his mate, getting her attention. He offers his best ‘now it’s your turn to ask a question’ expression, and reverts his eyes back to Amy, who’s looking across the crowd for another question.... or ten.

  Nyla quickly gets the drift, and Amy sees an inquisitive look on the lovely android’s face. “Yes Nyla? Please, go ahead.”

  “Thank you, Amy. I wish to know if the pods can be easily removed from the side of mother, after we reach our destination.” She inquires, honestly not knowing.

  It’s another question that’s right up Amy’s ally, she responds enthusiastically. “That’s a very good question Nyla! .... Say, is your last name ‘Sohn’ by Chance?” Amy is no dummy, and recognizes the android’s names from the flight manifest. She just hadn’t had a chance to use that information previously. She reverts her eyes to Nyla’s partner in crime. “And you must be Wilber Sohn. It’s very nice to meet you both.” She says with admiration. Anything connected with the doctor is very important to her.

  Wil speaks first. “Yes Amy, we’re part of his family, and it’s nice to meet you also. I’m sure you’re aware of the unfortunate set of circumstances that precipitated our joining the mission,” he adds, so the memory of Claire and Shane won’t be lost.

  “Yes, I’m aware of the details, and I’m sure that they would be very proud that you two took up the challenge, when the chips were down. And, I thank you also!” She relates sincerely, putting her hand over her heart. The other 50 androids applaud; both Sohn’s would have turned red from embarrassment, if only they could. However, it did warm their circuits. After everyone has settled back down, Amy reverts her eyes back to Nyla.

  Amy is pleased to have this interaction with her first ever sentient computer friends, but she wastes no more time getting back to the question that Nyla had asked her. “When you arrive at Oberon Prime, there will hopefully be six unused weapon systems still attached to mother’s outer hull.” She says, friendlily. “All the systems are very easily removed, provided the proper protocols are precisely followed. After only one mistake during the entry of the code, that system will lock itself down, and the job of removal becomes a hundred-million-times more difficult.”

  She relates a fantastic number that’s not in the android’s data-files. In fact, it wasn’t even factual data at all. Amy just knew that the job would be very tough, so she uses the opportunity to see who was listening, and who wasn’t. Immediately, she could see that all the androids actually were listening. The amazing number brings a shocked look into the many pairs of intelligent mechanical eyes. However, Nyla is quick to laugh at Amy’s well-orchestrated exaggeration, and could tell by her pleased look, that further response wasn’t necessary.

  Amy didn’t give her a chance to respond further anyway, as she immediately continued. “After mother gives birth to this inner spacecraft, the weapons systems can be easily transferred into storage compartments that are accessed on the top portion of this vessel. They will be welcome sentinels when you settle on the planet.” She stops short, before rambling about details they will all soon download anyway. “Does that answer your question, Nyla?” She asks politely.

  “Oh yes…. Indubitably!” She answers with a devious grin. “Thanks, Amy!”

  Amy knows that she didn’t have to go into exacting details with this group of walking and talking computers, so it’s on to the next part
of the tour. “Please follow me, and I’ll show you all where you will be spending a majority of the transit.” she offers, as the group of android’s make-way, allowing her to leave the bridge first. While mother’s baby spacecraft has six levels, the compartment for crew hibernation is located on the same level as the bridge. This allows for reduced reaction time, in the event of an emergency. The bridge will not require constant monitoring, provided that ships computers operate flawlessly. It doesn’t take long for the group to float out of the bridge and down a narrow passageway, to reach the compartments where the hibernation chambers are located.

  Amy gestures towards an open hatch, leading into a spacious compartment which houses 60 hibernation chambers in four rows of vertically arranged tube-like structures; each is about three-feet-in-diameter, and ten-feet tall. She asks half the group to enter first, so that she’ll be the center of attention when describing the technology within. After she enters, the rest follow. “Here we have the latest in extended hibernation systems for the android species.” She says proudly of the vertically standing tubes. They have lids of clear material, and domed along their entire length. “These chambers will house and protect you during the long voyage. There are 60 of them inside this ship. The extra chambers are simply that; extras .... against the unlikely event of malfunctions.” Then, she describes how they operate, asking Nyla if she would help by entering the chamber and allowing her to demonstrate its use.

  Nyla happily agrees, floating closer for further instructions. Once again Amy shows how to open the device. “Just push this button, like so,” she pushes the button, and like the opening of a mummies sarcophagus, the clear lid opens invitingly. Inside, hidden lights illuminate a pad that’s about 7-feet-long and as wide as the chamber. Amy moves to the side, pro-offering with her arm for Nyla to float inside.

  “Like this?” Nyla asks, as she gently pushes off from the deck plating, arriving at the edge of the tube where she twists and maneuvers onto the pad. Turning her body, she places herself against it, as Amy pushes with the palm of her hand on her midsection. This causes her body to sink into the supportive material, almost as if it were a viscous liquid. At the same time, the entire chamber automatically rotates 20-degrees-backwards, in a fashion that would provide a sense of security from falling out, if under the influence of gravity.

  With Nyla holding onto the edges of the chamber so she didn’t float away, Amy continues her instructions. “Now this process can be a little tricky without gravity, but after mother achieves sufficient acceleration, it will become much easier.” She says, as she reaches for some straps that are on each side of the pad. Amy secures Nyla into position. The restraint system connects with solid clicks, and an iron grip. Amy reaches to a button inside the chamber, pressing it. A 12-inch touch-screen slowly rises out of a hidden side-compartment on an adjustable arm, moving into place within easy reach. Amy shows her how to navigate the simple menu, and soon she’s ready to test the device.

  The immobilized android, presses an icon and the chamber leans back farther until it’s positioned at a 90-degree-angle from vertical. Another command, and the clear lid slowly closes, leaving her laying there like sleeping beauty, just waiting for a handsome prince to come along and wake her with a kiss. She looks around at all her wide-eyed shipmates, finding Wil’s smiling face. With a wink and a returned smile, the lovely android opens the lid and Amy continues.

  “When the time comes, this chamber will replace the atmosphere inside, with an inert gas. This will prevent any oxidations that might occur during the long voyage. When you decide to exit the chamber, there’s a 30-second-delay, so the precious gases can be evacuated, filtered, and used again next time. Please Nyla .... enter the commands to bring the chamber back to the vertical position.”

  Nyla complies. The chamber slowly moves, lining up with the others. She releases the restraining straps, floats out, and joins Wil. With an infectious smile, she reports. “Hey, now that’s a bed I can get used too!” She receives a nice round of laughter. Wil, restrains the impulse to tease her about how she had better like it, because of the enormous amount of time she’ll be spending in it. In fact, every one of them, himself included, are still intimidated by the massive time-requirements of this upcoming interstellar transit. It isn’t too late for any of them to bail out, and he didn’t want to give anyone ammunition to do so.

  Amy floats towards the corridor. “Please, follow me.” She requests, as she leads them to visit other parts of the ship that are not filled with supplies. In the corridor, they pass a chamber that has a special looking hatch, and a set of symbols printed on its outer surface. Among them is one indicating biological materials, and another relating to cryogenics. Amy briefly stops, and says of the compartment beyond the hatch. “This is one of 8 cryo-preservation compartments on this ship.” She informs, clinically. “You may have even noticed a similar looking hatch when you were on the bridge. With a little luck, you will never have to break the seal on any of them until it’s time to shake-n-bake,” She jokes facetiously, about the main objective of the mission. Slapping the hatch as to impart good luck, she continues floating along the passageway that circumnavigates the vessel in an endless loop.

  She escorts the space pioneers through several levels of the ship. Nearly 95-percent of the useable compartments, are filled with the supplies necessary when they reach Oberon Prime, or wherever their destination ends up. One level above the bridge, Amy takes them into a compartment that’s dedicated to android repair. It’s packed full of sophisticated testing and calibration technology that any robotics engineer would be envious of. Any of the android pioneers needing first-aid, will end up here.

  When she runs out of compartments to show, the lovely chief engineer decides to head back to the bridge and check to see if their transport had arrived yet. While she checks on that, the rest of the group is looking at the monitor, noticing another SPS traveling past. Amy also notices, informing. “That’s SPS Delta. She’ll be docking with the Cecilia Payne.”

  To the viewer of the circular monitor, it seems like they’re looking out an actual window, instead of from inside of a fortified bunker, buried deep within millions-of-tons of ice and metal. The group of androids are happy to see that all four ships have safely made the transit from Earth, while Amy is happy to see that the transport had finally arrived, and is waiting for them. She gathers her charges, herding them towards the main airlock. As they float out of the bridge, Nyla is becoming anxious for the visit to the space station. It’s twice the size of the one in Earth orbit. She’s looking forward to kicking some android posterior, at the handball courts there.

  The transport was not designed for so many passengers, but the 52 androids, manage to pile in and find places to occupy. Just as the hatch is closing, Eric floats up to the airlock wanting to go with. He apologizes for being late, taking a position among the other androids that didn’t have a seat. He secretly hopes that he won’t be crushed during the flight, by the many unsecured heavy-hitters surrounding him. Wil sits in the right-hand seat as first officer, while Captain Herschel takes the left. Nyla fits comfortably in the observer’s position that’s located just behind the two pilots, strapping herself in for the ride.

  After a pre-flight checklist is completed, Amy disengages the transport from the airlock, maneuvering it away from mother’s immense bulk. As they travel around the imposing vessel, they see that SPS Charlie is being removed from the cargo airlock. He’ll soon join the many other vessels in the graveyard, awaiting destruction. Nyla and Wil are a little sad to see their proud and capable spacecraft, being disposed of in such a fashion. But, they also realize that it will serve a higher function someday.

  Nyla is intrigued to observe how Amy handles the spacecraft. Over the years, she had learned a lot from watching humans, and hopes that she has learned enough to make a difference. The journey to the space station is uneventful. Soon, Captain Herschel gives Wil a task to perform. “Wil, contact operations and obtain docking instructi
ons.”

  “Aye, Aye, captain.” He responds smartly before transmitting on a pre-adjusted frequency. “Operations, this is transport 42; do you copy?”

  “Transport 42, this is operations, I read you five by five. Go ahead.”

  “Yes, hello operations.” Wil greets, friendlily. “Request permission to dock, and come aboard the station; over.”

  “Permission granted.” The gentle female voice announces. “Please dock at bay 23, and check with the hanger supervisor if there are any maintenance issues. Have a nice day; over.” The woman instructs, politely.

  “Bay 23. Thanks operations. Have a nice day.” Wil echoes her sentiment, noticing his captain had heard the docking instructions. They would not be entering one of the many hanger airlocks, but instead will lock onto one of the hub’s exterior hatches, using magnetic clamps. After the docking procedure is completed, the many astronauts float through the airlock, towards the elevator that will take them to the outer ring of the station. But first, Amy redirects them into a side passage that leads to the maintenance hangar and research laboratories.

  “As long as we’re here, you folks might as well have the dollar tour.” She announces smilingly. “Many breakthroughs in human medical science, has come out of the labs you are about to see.” She informs proudly, as the group eagerly floats behind her.

  Approximately 1,000-feet away, in the medical department, Dylan Conrad is absorbing the bad news from his physician. The doctor tries to relate the terminal prognosis, in as kind a fashion as possible. But, it’s not something that can be sugarcoated. The chemotherapy is not taking hold; the long-term prognosis is beyond grim. He realizes that there’s only one thing in the universe that truly matters now; His family....

  After leaving medical, Conrad slowly makes his way back to his lonely room. He sits quietly at a tiny desk next to his bed, working up the courage to communicate with the monster who promises to make life better for his wife and children; if only he does the unimaginable. He strongly suspects that this is the man who tried unsuccessfully to destroy Higgs-Boson Airfield. And, having failed that attempt to stop the doctor, he’s now focusing his demented efforts for destruction upon him. Dylan is not a man of great mental prowess. Also, he is neither religious, nor overly superstitious. His life had always revolved around a selfish notion of ‘what can the universe do for me’, so now that his life is crumbling, it becomes much easier for him to do this terrible deed. His blood runs cold....

  Reaching for his data-pad, he transmits that he’s willing to accept the offer; provided he receives proof that his family has been relocated to a better way of life, with the money that was promised. Also, that the predatory people in Las Vegas had been dealt with. Short of all that, there would be no deal, and the old man with the disguise, could go to hell; but he didn’t add that last part…. Somehow, he knew that the man was already in hell, and had been living there for most of his miserable life.

  In a small office at CIA headquarters, Langley Virginia, Ethan Marcus looks over the shoulder of intelligence officer Cathy Hutton. “Are you absolutely sure, Cathy?” He inquires intensely, keeping focus on the critical information that she had just intercepted and deciphered.

  “Yes sir, it’s unmistakable. These signals,” she points out part of a carrier wave graph on the monitor in front of her, “are all from the communications between earth and the space station at mars. And here in this part of the graph, there’s an embedded signal that’s not part of the Sohn communications system.” She relates the bad news.

  “How soon before you can figure out what the communication is saying?” He asks, expectantly.

  “Well, I’ve sent the carrier-wave to the labs, but it might prove to be a tough nut to crack. However, in a few minutes, I’ll at least know where on earth the signal originated.” She says, with some hope, and a gleam in her eye.

  Ethan already has a good idea of where the parasitic signals are coming from. The copilot of the failed helicopter attack has finally woken from a coma, and is beginning to talk. Also, other related intelligence, is pointing to a hardened criminal type in the Ukraine region. This is the type of person who has the resources to play from behind the scenes, while remaining relatively safe from outside prosecution if he’s ever exposed. If Ethan’s suspicions are proven correct; there will be hell to pay, no matter where this person or group, hides.

  On the space station, Amy has completed the tour of the hub area, and can tell that her charges are anxious to feel some gravity. She is certainly ready! .... “I hope that you all enjoyed our little tour of the hub area. Please follow me, and I’ll take you to the most popular part of the station.” She informs, floating towards the elevators. There are three elevator cars that can each accommodate 20 people. So, they get situated and strap themselves into the upside-down seats. This seating arrangement will be necessary when they arrive at the gravity section of the station. It takes nearly 35-minutes to travel the distance, and everyone enjoys the ever-increasing weightiness, as centrifugal forces wash over their bodies, pulling them towards the rotating outer-ring, where a full gravitational force, rules the day and night.