by J. Benjamin
In middle school, Kiara would stay up late watching the live feed of the Poseidon robotic submersible as it traversed the deep, endless oceans of Europa. The schools of squibbons, bioluminescent flora, and massive energy-producing hermit-like creatures that scaled the ocean floor inspired Kiara to take up marine biology. As exobiology became a field unto itself, Kiara transitioned into the subject while at Stanford. Before she knew it, she was one of the world’s foremost experts in it.
The capsule emerged from its long underground commute. It was now on the part of the track that appeared eight miles off the coast of San Francisco and above the water. Behind the glass train capsule, Kiara could see the bright lights of the city beyond the dominating presence of the Golden Gate Bridge. Kiara was always amazed that the bridge had managed to survive the bombing raids of World War III.
Before the capsule, a new set of bright lights filled the horizon. It was the Global Space Federation Federal District, better known as Sally Ride City. The pedestrian-only, car-free city was only one-third the physical size of San Francisco. While there were no cars or trucks, there were boats and waterways. Kiara likened it to Venice, but with post-contemporary architecture. Sally Ride was home to three hundred thousand residents, many of whom were employees, family members of employees, or students of the Global Space Federation.
In the center of this low-rise city sat a giant golden dome, the GSF General Assembly. It was where Kiara was heading. The capsule passed through the ceremonial bath of fountains that christened each train car as they pulled into the city. It then followed the tracks as they passed over the streets and canals of Sally Ride. Finally, the capsule arrived at Heather Zel Station, just a three-minute walk to the General Assembly.
Kiara made her way to the gold dome. Two rings of grass and two rings of brightly lit walkways formed a dart-board circle around the building. On the outer ring of the sidewalk, flags from most of the nations in the world stood tall. The main entryway led into the grand entrance of the stadium-sized dome. Flanking its sides were two giant flags representing the Global Space Federation.
On the outer walkway, Kiara passed by what must have been a few hundred protesters with signs. Anti-GSF activism was a constant occurrence on these grounds. This year, however, the crowds were far more sizable than in years prior.
One protester donned an all-black grim reaper costume while holding a black sign with vertical white letters that read LEW on the left-hand side, a reference to the GSF secretary-general. Next to each letter read the words “LIAR, EMPERESS, WARMONGER” in smaller letters. A crowd of nude protesters with black tape over their mouths and wrists handcuffed behind their backs were writhing on the ground. Kiara was clueless as to what their message implied, but assumed it related to imprisonment or bondage.
A young man with pink hair and a megaphone shouted at a small gathering of multi-colored-hair youngsters around him. “G.S.F! What does that stand for?”
“Global Slaughter Federation!” the crowd chanted back. Unexpectedly, a young female protester spotted Kiara. Perhaps it was Kiara’s well-dressed appearance that immediately gave away that she was an attendee inside the conference and not a protester. The female made her way over to Kiara.
“Fuck,” Kiara said, muttering it under her breath. She was tense at the possibility of a public confrontation on the most crucial night of the conference. Kiara was well aware that the wrong words could go viral and not just affect her night, but also her reputation.
“Excuse me! Ma’am,” the protester said. “Are you attending the conference?”
“Look,” Kiara sternly said while holding one hand up in a “stop” gesture. “I am just a researcher. I am here to present new findings on extraterrestrial life and watch a speech. I do not want any trouble. I am not the target of your protests.” The protester nodded her head and to Kiara’s surprise seemed relatively respectful.
“I understand,” the protester replied. “What’s your name?”
“Kiara.” She knew better than to give her last name. “And judging by the perceived age of the crowd here, I assume you are all university students.”
“My name is Savannah. You are correct. We are students at UC–Berkeley.”
“Berkeley huh? I was a Stanford undergrad,” Kiara said while extending her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Savannah.”
“So, I’m curious. You’re an educator. Surely you must be smart enough to understand the dangers of the Global Space Federation’s unimpeded strength. Consider that their secretary-general and entire Assembly are an unelected body with global military power. Their aggression gives them absolute power, not to mention they pretty much own all of Earth’s aerospace. Except for the moon of course. The Japanese own that. How do you find the ability to work with such a group?”
“You are wrong about the unelected part,” Kiara said. “The GSF General Assembly is made up of representatives from every country on Earth.”
“Yeah, but not all of them are democracies. So, isn’t it counter-productive to refer to GSF as one if so many of those at their table have an invested interest in preventing freedom for their people?”
“Savannah,” Kiara said, having learned years ago how to dodge unwanted political discussion. “I am a woman of science. My goal is to review the facts objectively and without bias. I spend my days examining exobacterial and animal life from other parts of the solar system. My only goal on this planet, and every other planet and their moons for that matter, is to look at what is alive, understand it, and present it to the people. That’s all.”
“And you should be commended for it, Kiara! However, you need to know that the GSF is full of lies.”
At this point, Kiara found herself very annoyed. She had a political fire in her belly when she was a university freshman, but Kiara never imagined herself to be as in-your-face about it as this student. She didn’t want to go any further down the rabbit hole, so she tried to find the right words to exit the discussion.
“Savannah, thank you. I respect your views, but I must be moving on.”
“The day of reckoning is coming, Kiara. At some point in the not-too-distant future, you won’t be able to remain neutral anymore, and when that day comes, I hope you are on our side.”
“Good luck,” Kiara said.
“Good luck to you too,” Savannah replied.
The sun had settled, and the dome lit up like a bright-gold glass turtle shell. Kiara made her way through the security barrier at the entry. Now she found herself surrounded by scores of scientists, attendees, and government officials who were busy schmoozing.
Kiara saw her reflection in an empty champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. She was glad she wore the one-shoulder white dress. It was classy but not over-the-top. It contrasted well with the black suits and sequined dresses moving about.
She could hear Bach playing. Fifteen feet away, a pleasant violin quartet welcomed attendees. Kiara also noticed a few heads turn in her direction. Given her prominence in Europa exobiology, it was inevitable some people would recognize her. As she scanned their faces, a young waiter approached her with a silver platter of hors d’ oeuvres.
“Good evening, madam,” he said as he held the platter of what appeared to be pieces of lobster wrapped in bacon. “I present to you the Bay Area’s finest, freshly-cloned lobster,” the waiter said. Kiara nodded, took a piece off the plate, and thanked him.
She took a bite of the hors d’ oeuvre. It tasted like it came fresh from the ocean. At least how she remembered lobster to taste before the world’s governments signed an agreement to grow all animal flesh synthetically.
It certainly had an impact on global efforts to reverse climate change. All foodborne diseases had become virtually eradicated. Millions around the world found work in the new industry of urban agriculture. The innovation drastically reduced worldwide water consumption. Everybody won.
For the next twenty minutes, she made her way around the venue. The inside of the dome resembled a 21st-century the
ater where one would see an opera. The difference was that this was an official government building and instead of musical performances, it was a showcase for world leaders. Though there was zero doubt, the venue could accommodate entertainment.
Kiara found her way to the third floor. She was to be seated in a balcony seat on stage-left. As Kiara traversed the corridors, the lights from downtown San Francisco were visible through the gold glass. Even from miles away, she could easily see the Golden Gate Bridge and the skyline of the financial district. The historic, Mediterranean-revival homes of Seacliff and the Presidio were also visible. It was a stark contrast to the green roofs, white composite, eco-friendly apartment buildings that filled Sally Ride City. She turned and immediately collided into somebody.
She stumbled back, composing herself, and looked up. A young man in full GSF regalia stumbled too, but appeared fine. He was a few inches taller with jet-black hair and a square jaw. Judging by the insignia on his uniform, he had to be a captain.
“Oh wow! I’m very sorry. Are you alright?” Kiara asked. She almost missed the fact that there were several news reporters following him who already photographed her misstep. She felt embarrassed.
“No worries. I’m fine,” the captain nodded. He too appeared embarrassed. He extended his right hand. “Captain Matt Ashford, GSF Earth Forces. Nice to meet you.” He smiled with what had to have been the brightest white teeth Kiara had ever seen.
“Dr. Kiara Lacroix, deputy exobiologist with a focus on Europa,” she said.
“As you can see, Dr. Lacroix, this place is a madhouse right now. Lets reconnect after? Hope to see you around.” He winked at her.
“Likewise,” Kiara smiled.
3
Space Station Sagan
Admiral Isla Perez stood at the edge of one of the graphene-glass walls that wrapped around Space Station Sagan’s dome-shaped upper half. That foot-thick wall was strong enough to withstand the harshest elements that space had to offer, whether it be high-velocity space debris or even a meteorite. However, Sagan’s defense systems would detect such foreign objects with enough time to react before impact.
The top thirty decks of the Sagan stacked as descending rings around the massive fusion-reactor. That reactor kept the station operating at full capacity. The bottom forty decks, the more extensive decks, consisted of living quarters, labs, and the essential functioning spaces for the two thousand souls that lived aboard humanity’s greatest spacefaring achievement.
Beneath the station, an expanding series of long trusses, habitat pods, and a maze of external modules allowed for smaller ships to dock, hence the nickname, the Jellyfish. When one views the space station from afar, the semi-circular body resembles its mantle while the trusses below resemble tentacles.
As the highest-ranking officer of the Global Space Federation, Admiral Perez’s task was overseeing the safety and security of all the military assets of the Global Space Federation. That started with the orbital headquarters in which she stood. Though the Jellyfish was only part of the expansive armed strength of the GSF, it was without question its greatest asset.
Admiral Perez moved to the grass in the Deck 36 Observatory. The deck fell in the middle-range of diameter when compared to the floors above and below. However, it was also a park and therefore felt incredibly spacious for a concealed environment in space. It provided a nature-like escape from the cramped, claustrophobic confines of being on a space station.
In the early days of space travel, one of the most significant challenges facing astronauts was the lack of open space. Some astronauts would spend as much as a year in a tight container living off limited air and food supply. The architects of Space Station Sagan made livability a top priority. Even considering the militaristic relevance of the Jellyfish, it was still a capital. Therefore, it served as host to thousands of visitors every year.
Sagan was more than just a base. It also included a massive civilian presence. Upon entering the park, one sees benches, a moat, a gazebo, trees, grass, and natural-feeling mist. It’s where Admiral Perez went to get away from the stresses of her position.
Isla sat fifteen feet from the see-through wall that stretched around the entire deck. She opened her eyes. The station was facing both Earth and the moon with the stars between them. On the moon, she could see the bright lights of the New Tokyo Colony creeping up the furthest horizon. Turning her gaze back to Earth, she could see Japan coming into view. The city lights of Tokyo lit the sky like a jack-o-lantern.
Often, Isla would be seen around the station in her full GSF uniform. However, the park was one of the few places on the station where the admiral dressed casually. She had a creeping suspicion that current events would prevent her from enjoying the moment of peace and tranquility much longer.
Isla cast it from her mind. She closed her eyes and focused on shutting out the stresses of her position. Her twin daughters were always the first to appear in her head during meditation. They were the center of her universe. Her home, Guadalajara, was another focal point of peace in her otherwise complicated life. Being admiral was stressful. Everyone looked to Isla, and she always had to project strength no matter the circumstance. It was tiring.
A familiar voice shattered Isla’s meditation.
“Admiral Perez,” said the young male captain standing at attention. Isla felt the Zen extinguished from her mind and body. She was adamant about not being interrupted during meditation unless there was a damn good reason. Isla opened her eyes and turned away from the curvature of Earth to face one of her most trusted confidants, Captain Cade Starling.
“My apologies, admiral,” he said, calmly. “You said you wanted to see the first report from the Wolf 482 Pelican Swarm as soon as it was available.”
“I did. Please tell me you have some good news,” Isla said.
“The streams are being analyzed on deck fifty-five,” Cade said. “Initial reports are that if the data adds up, well…”
“Captain Starling. What is Intelligence trying to get across?”
“The Pelicans have surface visuals of Kennedy. I think you’ll have to see it for yourself. Here.” He touched his right temple and activated a data transfer between his smart lens and Isla’s. Within a split second, one of the most highly classified documents in the Federation was transferred.
Isla reviewed the document before her. She reached out and moved the virtual report on her lens as if it were an actual printed document. She frantically flicked through the virtual pages to get past the extraneous information.
As Isla suspected, the data from HiveAI had finally reached Earth. A little more than five years before that document reached Isla’s smart lens, a swarm of several hundred nano-bots had arrived at the Wolf 482 star system, five and a half lightyears from Earth. The bots, otherwise known as Pelicans, were guided by a synchronized AI system, HiveAI. Using the Pelicans, HiveAI crafted intelligence reports and submitted them back to Earth.
The report confirmed that the Pelicans’ solar-sails deployed. Thanks to a gravity transit from the Jupiter-sized planet Watson, named after the actress and former British Prime Minister, the Pelicans rapidly decelerated. Several dozen of the Pelicans had already completed orbital injection into Kennedy’s orbit.
“One laser propulsion cannon, a thousand robotic basketballs traveling a fraction the speed of light, thirty years, and here we are,” Isla said as she examined the report. “We can finally see planet Kennedy in all its glory.”
Isla turned the pages of the virtual book where images and video clips were continually streaming in from the Pelicans’ HiveAI feed. The visuals of the icy, Earth-like world were far-ranging, and beyond anything she or the research teams at the GSF could have imagined. Then, Isla’s eyes trailed to the part of the report detailing the findings of the first Pelicans that successfully made it into orbit. Isla found herself at a loss for words.
They absorbed the findings of the report. Finally, Isla spoke: “Alert Secretary-General Lew. She needs to see this
right away.”
4
GSF General Assembly - Main Auditorium
Kiara felt a rush of anticipation as she entered the auditorium. She never enjoyed being the center of attention. Though balcony-left was not as bad as being on stage, it was one of the most visible seating areas. Kiara anticipated people would observe her throughout the event.
From her vantage point, she saw the one person that would command the attention of any room: a seventy-one-year-old woman in a blue pantsuit with white hair, flanked by a pair of Special Protection Group agents. The commander-in-chief of the Global Space Federation, Secretary-General Katelyn Lew, proceeded to the reserved row.
Kiara greatly admired Lew’s resilience. It was more than Lew’s meteoric rise to becoming secretary-general that impressed Kiara. It also was how she managed the stress of the job while receiving more death threats than any individual alive. The recent spate of terrorist attacks against GSF facilities only heightened the pressure on the secretary-general.
On the second-floor mezzanine, Kiara saw Captain Matt Ashford sitting among what appeared to be civilians. Without expecting it, she saw Matt’s head turn, and he noticed her. He smiled and waved. Before Kiara could wave back, the lights dimmed precipitously. The event was starting.
The room went dark, and light flooded the stage. With no warning, the GSF anthem blared through the sound system in the auditorium. Though not expected by civilians, the GSF soldiers immediately stood up and sang the familiar words of the state anthem.
“We go forth from sky to sky… to the stars… united as one Earth…”
The anthem ended. The soldiers quietly took their seats. A tall Norwegian man with blond hair appeared on stage. Kiara recognized him as Kasper Jensen, the mayor of Sally Ride City.