by James Duggan
“Ah you’ve heard about him then?”
“Who hasn’t? Our own people have an intricate network of industrial spies who keep us up to date on anything new with our competitors…for a price.”
“Yes, I know that’s the way business works. What you’re having difficulty getting around to asking is for that technology to be handed over to you. Now why should we do that? Why do you think I would sanction that?”
“As I said Mister Buchanan you’re an astute man, but I also think you’re a compassionate one, otherwise why would you be knocking your brains out on this venture when it could be done by others?”
The flattery was beginning to work on Buck. The ice was melting.
“Listen Al, doing what you ask just to save a few well heeled skins doesn’t cut it with me. Give me a reason why I should hand over what you want without getting something in return. Remember money is no good to us here, it’s worthless. We’re swamped with it. The only way we can get people to work on the project is by giving them a chance of life; to be included in the exodus.”
“Now there you have it Buck. We’re getting to the crux of the matter. You’re assuming our motives are selfish. Well you couldn’t be more wrong; at least not in this case. We may play hard ball in business, but we are not all bad and we do have families to consider.”
“I appreciate your situation, but millions of others have families too. We can’t accommodate them all.”
“No Buck, but we can offer salvation to as many more again as you’re offering to help.”
Buck’s eyes lit up at the prospect of doubling the survival rate.
“Ah now we’re getting somewhere. I should have seen this coming. What you’re proposing is that you build a replica of our Cube and we give you the infinite energy and launch technology to get it up there. In return you can save another ten thousand souls from annihilation.”
“That’s about it, in a nutshell.” said Brewster, much relieved that he seemed to be finally getting closer to what he wanted.
Buck sat back and thought for a moment.
“How are you going to motivate your workforce?”
“The same way you are.”
Buck thought some more.
“There would have to be conditions.”
“Such as?”
“Well we don’t want to create a dysfunctional society wandering amongst the stars which might one day lead to its own self inflicted destruction. We have enough problems with that here on Earth right now without taking the same ethos into space. I suggest that apart from your own close families you allow NASA to select those to be included in Cube Two. Oh and by the way no weapons…of any kind.”
Brewster thought, but not for long. He knew he had to agree to Buck’s conditions if he was to save his own family and those of his associates.
“Agreed Buck, if that’s what it takes, then allowing others to select our passengers seems a small price to pay to ensure our own families future.”
“You will have our full co-operation and I will see to it that NASA is advised of the arrangement. You can liaise with them regarding the selection process. As far as the technology is concerned I’ll arrange for Mister Smith to let you have whatever you need…that is if he ever manages to sort it.”
“I take it that we are all in his hands and waiting for him to produce results which may never be forthcoming.” said Brewster, slightly alarmed.
“That’s about the size of it.” replied Buck, almost nonchalantly.
“But if we waited for his science to be proven before we acted we might end up with no time to put it into practise. I suggest you do the same and get to work immediately. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by getting started straight away. Ceres is heading our way, is on course and will not be stopped.”
Buck’s matter of fact statement sent a shudder of apprehension down Brewster’s spine.
“Better get to it then.” he said, as he stood and held out his hand.
Buck took it and shook it firmly. He had hopefully just secured the safety of another ten thousand human lives.
‘Not a bad day’s work.’ he thought to himself, as he showed Brewster through security and out into the unknown.
***
Within a month Buck had two similar discussions with like minded oligarchs and billionaires resulting in the potential saving of a further twenty thousand lucky souls on private enterprise Cubes two and three. Whether they would all work out was another matter, but at least the potential was there.
“I didn’t realise there were so many private people in the world controlling such huge sums of money.” he muttered to himself, after seeing the last group off the premises.
‘What a pity it took the end of the world for them to come together and put it to some good use.’ he thought.
***
HOME FROM HOME.
WITH just thirty-one months to go before D-day there was a sense of urgency gripping all those closely involved with the exodus project.
Ceres was intent upon bearing down menacingly on the planet at ten-thousand miles an hour with no sign of deviating from its course. Ringo, with the Russians and Chinese had still not cracked the infinite energy problem. Nor had he been able to announce the science for the innovative launch system had been solved.
The only positive was the acquisition of Slim McCoy’s services with his crew for the orbital construction of the Cube working from a base on the ISS.
In spite of all this negativity the drive to design and build the pods for the Cube had to be pushed forward. There was no down time where one problem could be solved before embarking on the next stage. Work had to continue in parallel as though all problems would eventually be resolved and come together neatly. There was no time for a fancy critical path analysis style research and development program to be devised and strictly followed. Ceres simply didn’t allow for this luxury.
The one person who seemed to be unfazed by the apparent lack of progress and all the negative vibes displayed by many was Ringo. His role in all this was critical and yet everyone from President Richards down was still referred to in his usual casual manor as ‘mate’ or ‘pal’; as if he was unconcerned about the terrible implications of failure.
There were rumblings from some, not the least of which were General Armstrong and Mike McConnell of the FBI, that there was something not quite right with this Ringo character. Chinese whispers were spreading ominously querying where he actually came from since no records of him prior to his Manchester University enrolment could be found. And how was it he kept popping up unannounced at critical meetings around the world with no paper trail explaining how he was able to do so in the limited time available.
In spite of all this work had to continue in a positive mode. The mystery surrounding Ringo was the least of their worries and in a little over two and a half years it would not matter one way or the other anyway.
***
It was essential that planning continued irrespective of any side issues and in pursuance of this a small group of people gathered in the foyer of the main building at the NASA research and development facility in San Jose, California.
Amongst them was Buck, Carl Gambiadini from NASA, Jacob Corby from Ford, Matt Montgomery from Boeing and Sophia Wagner the sociologist.
They were all there to inspect what Gambiadini described as the ‘one and only’ first production model of a pod which was to be the core component of the Cube’s construction. He hoped that the simplistic design based upon Buck’s original concept of the Rubik’s cube combined with the already well established space technology of the docking and airlock systems would meet with approval.
If it didn’t they were in trouble because there was no time for second and third prototypes to be developed. In the circumstances simplicity and practicality were all that was required. All the usual comforts of home had to be sidelined.
Gambiadini ushered them towards the door and out in the direction of a huge building looking
rather like an aircraft hanger. Access to the interior was through a side door adjacent to the main steel sliding doors which Buck estimated to be fifty feet high and of similar width. Thirty tons would be a conservative estimate of their weight, but when Gambiadini pressed the red button at the side they opened effortlessly and almost silently to reveal the interior.
Buck’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he was faced with nothing more than a featureless chrome finished steel box approximately ten metres by ten by ten.
“Why the chrome plating Carl? Bit of an overkill isn’t it? queried Buck.
“Hardest finish we could apply relatively easily. Gives more protection to the outer skin from micro meteorites. Occupants can take refuge in their sleeping quarters if a meteor storm is encountered.” said Gambiadini, with a satisfied smile.
One face of the pod had an elaborate looking hatch in the centre which was little more than a metre and a half in diameter providing access to the interior. Buck and Sophia glanced at each other alarmed as thoughts raced through their mind of the interminable space flight locked in what was little more than a windowless cell.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a late arrival approaching quickly from behind puffing and panting like a long distance runner. It was Ringo. Here he was yet again arriving unannounced as if out of nowhere. More eyebrows were raised as Ringo simply said without any apparent embarrassment or explanation for his presence.
“Sorry folks, I got caught up in transit. I didn’t want to miss seeing this.”
“Well now we’re all here let’s have a look inside.” said Gambiadini, with only slight sarcasm.
He led the way up the ten steps of a mobile flight of stairs to the circular entry hatch. He slid in on his stomach over a temporary plastic chute which had been placed there for easy access. Buck followed suit and found himself on the mid gallery level of what can only be described as a tee shaped atrium the full height of the ten metre cube.
Facing him on the opposite wall were access doors to sixteen compartments, each measuring approximately two and a half metres square and three metres deep. They were arranged in rows four wide and four high, resembling giant pigeon holes found behind hotel reception desks.
In front of each perpendicular row of compartments was, for want of a better description, a fireman’s pole which appeared to be split by two opposing vertical grooves. At the base of each pole was a one metre diameter circular collar forming a ten centimetre high platform.
To the left and right of where they entered were two similar arrangements facing each other, but each only two compartments wide; providing a total of thirty-two cells.
The whole thing reminded Buck of a Japanese capsule hotel he had once visited on a business trip to Tokyo; but on a much grander scale.
Gambiadini stood on the base plate of one of the poles, pressed a button alongside and invited others to follow his lead. With his arm wrapped around the pole the simple arrangement lifted him effortlessly and gently to the top level of the four rows with the almost silent whirring of an electric motor in the background.
Buck did the same on an adjacent pole; as did Sophia and Ringo on two others. Those who hadn’t bothered to claim a pole contented themselves with viewing a cell on the bottom level.
The interior was sparse, but clean and comfortable looking. There was a moulded one metre wide medium grade memory foam mattress on a cantilevered shelf to his right. At the back of the capsule was a desk top arrangement running the full width of the two and a half metre wall. On top stood various high tech bits of computer equipment including a large screen monitor. Buck assumed the latter had the secondary purpose of showing television programs and films from the proposed huge digital library.
He stood for a moment on the melamine covered floor taking it all in and wondering how he would cope with being cooped up in such a confined space indefinitely. He cast his eyes around the capsule looking for anything which would make living like this tolerable. There was little else to see other than a storage facility under the bed and a most comfortable looking spring loaded leather swivel chair in front of the monitor.
The only other piece of furniture was in the corner behind him to his left. It was a one piece plastic moulded unit in keeping with the surroundings, but in spite of that he recognised what was essentially an old fashioned commode when he saw it.
‘Hmmm, all the comforts of home.’ he thought, whilst resisting the urge to investigate it any further.
He noticed a button on the wall just inside the door and human nature being what it is felt compelled to press it. There was the sound of compressed air being released causing him to step nimbly out of the way as the access door slid across behind him.
‘Well at least it affords some privacy.’ he thought to himself, as he looked for another button to open it again.
There wasn’t one. For a moment he stood scratching his head in bewilderment. In desperation he pressed the same button again and low and behold the door opened. He was much relieved as he looked outside whilst muttering.
“I should have thought of that sooner, it’s hardly rocket science.”
Eventually they all gathered in the confined space on the floor of the atrium and Gambiadini invited comments. There was a clear shared reluctance by all concerned to voice what they were thinking.
It was almost as if, in spite of the terrible consequences, they would prefer, when push comes to shove, not to be chosen. Spending the rest of their lives in what appeared to amount to solitary confinement was not their idea of being saved for humanity’s sake. There wasn’t much humanity in such an existence.
Buck braved the storm he expected by voicing his opinion.
‘Well someone has to do it.’ he thought.
“Carl I don’t want to belittle the efforts of all concerned, but…well it’s kind of sparse isn’t it? I’m not sure I could cope with living like this indefinitely.”
Gambiadini was unfazed by the remark. He was expecting that kind of response and had prepared for it.
“Well Buck there really isn’t a lot more we can do in the time available other than what you see here, but to be fair what you do see is only part of the overall concept dreamed up by my people.”
Sophia, who had been quiet until now raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“Well there certainly needs to be more, a lot more, otherwise you’re going to be launching a potential lunatic asylum into the outer reaches of the universe. E.T. won’t think much of Earthlings when he finally comes across us.”
Gambiadini had a glint in his eye as he proceeded to outline the full package.
“You’re right of course Sophia, but if it wasn’t for your input at the original meeting this is all we would have had to offer.”
She and the others gathered around Gambiadini expectantly.
“In normal circumstances this would have been sheer luxury for any astronaut. But with what you outlined regarding Maslow’s pyramid of life together with Ringo’s promise of getting whatever we wanted into space we brainstormed with the brightest thinkers we could find. They came up with a lot more than just a spacecraft for short term periods in orbit. When I outline the rest of it I hope you will change your attitude to our space travelling community.”
“Come on then mate.” urged Ringo, impatiently.
“Give us something to chew on.”
Gambiadini knew he could no longer keep them in suspense.
“Well the first thing to consider is that what we have here is only a small part of a much greater complex; and complex is an understatement compared to what we have been doing in the past. Take for example what you see here. These are in fact only what you might call the residential quarters; a place where each individual can come to sleep and relax in as much privacy as he or she wants.”
He paused for a moment trying to think of the order in which he wanted to set out the hidden facilities in each capsule.
“You will see there are storage units under the bu
nk beds. These have been provided for each individual to bring with them the minor comforts of life. Apart from standard issue clothing in the style of one piece jump suits they will be allowed mementoes of life on Earth and any other paraphernalia which they feel will make life on board more bearable; a kind of ‘desert island discs’ scenario.
However, there will be a limit of twenty kilos each otherwise there is no knowing what people might try and bring with them; the proverbial kitchen sink is certainly not one of them.”
“Well that should help to brighten the place up a bit, but there’s more to mental welfare than a few trinkets spread around the shelves.” said Sophia.
“Yes that’s true of course and we were worried about the claustrophobic atmosphere having no windows might generate. The windows have been left out for a very good reason. They are probably the most vulnerable part of the fabric of any space craft. Sealing and protecting them from micro particles and larger space debris is a constant headache. So with the interests of simplicity in mind during the manufacturing process we decided to do without them altogether; there’s nothing to see out there anyway.”
“Well that’s true, but it’s still nice to be able to see out; even if it is only the night sky…close up.” said Buck, longingly.
“I agree.” said Gambiadini, displaying that glint in his eye once more.
“That’s why we’ve taken a leaf out of the design of cruise liner cabins. Sophia, don’t ask me why, but press that button just above the head of the bed.”
She did so and to her surprise an image of the night sky lit up the entire end wall above the worktop level. It was only a pre-recorded sequence, but it did the trick. It immediately gave a feeling of spaciousness in the confined capsule.
“Of course there still isn’t much to see, but the external cameras will give the impression of travelling through space, albeit slowly. And when we approach other planets and space material it will give added interest to the trip. It’s the way cruise liners transmit images of forward motion while at sea from a camera on the bow via a television screen to each cabin. It is especially beneficial in cabins with no portholes. We’ve just upsized it.”