Second generation, p.12
Second Generation, page 12
Georgia and Leo both sat back, surprised.
“We’re attaching close ups to the message file,” said Hal. “Over to you,” he finished with a wry smile.
Georgia and Leo stared at the space where the projection had finished, utterly dumbstruck. There was another series of pre-message pips which made them jump, then a projection of Sam and Trish’s faces appeared.
“Hello Armstrong. I know Hal’s team have just given you pause for thought, but we have another one relevant to your mission. The signal from Earth has gone silent. We have searched other wavelengths to check, but no trace. Whatever or whoever was inviting us to Earth has stopped. Perhaps the sending device has come to the end of a pre-programmed transmission time. Perhaps they’ve given up. Or perhaps something may have happened to the sender. There’s nothing any of us can do about it for now. The best course of action is for you to proceed with the mission, as planned. Hopefully you’ll find out more when you arrive.”
Leo looked at Georgia who returned his puzzled expression.
Leo’s mind was in free fall, wondering which message to answer first and what questions to ask.
10
Park and Ride
The Bridge, Armstrong, nearing Earth orbit – Leo Meier
The blue-white pearl ringed by sparkling ice grew a little larger each day. After so long, peering at the tiny dot amid velvet emptiness of space, this jewel surpassed all Leo’s expectations of beauty. He had spent four months in flight, wondering what he would find there. Now he was getting closer, he found it made him nervous.
He was not the only one.
“What if its dead and empty?” asked Demetria.
“There have been at least five mass extinction events on Earth, before Goliath hit,” said Leo. “Every time life survived then flourished again.”
“But even the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs wasn’t as big as Goliath,” frowned Demetria.
“No. It wasn’t,” said Georgia. “But Leo’s maps show sea coverage has reduced less than we thought, from seventy to about sixty percent. That’s still a lot of water. Many potential habitats.”
“You sound almost as convinced of life as me now,” said Leo, raising his eyebrows.
“Mm. I guess I have a better perspective on the tenacity and prevalence of life now,” mused Georgia, her voice a little distant. “Especially after Hal’s team found the remains of those insects on Mars.”
“Yes, makes me wonder each time I think on it. Makes me nervous,” said Leo, then nodded at the pearlescent planet. “So is that, now we’re nearly there.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait to see it,” said Georgia.
“Yes… but have you thought about what we will see?”
Georgia looked at Leo, “Clouds, sea, barren ground. Maybe some primitive plants in the areas you saw greening. Insects and maybe a few small mammals if we’re lucky.”
Leo held Georgia’s eye, “That’s not quite what I mean.”
Georgia frowned.
“What do you mean?” asked Demetria.
“Have you noticed Stef’s mood these last few days, now we can see Earth more clearly?”
“She’s been terse,” said Demetria. “Not her usual self.”
“So have Sam and Trish on their Mission updates,” noted Georgia.
“They were all born on Earth. They remember it as it was,” said Leo. “They have thought about what we’re going to see.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Georgia, putting her hand to her mouth.
Demetria looked puzzled.
“The wreckage,” said Leo, bluntly. “Humanity put its mark over much of the globe. Our impact on Mars so far has been tiny. Tithonium city, Pavonis, a few scientific outposts. By contrast, the night side of Earth was a constellation of lights. Cities, towns, highways, ports, industry, agriculture all had a massive impact. When we get close enough to view Earth from orbit, the night side will be dark. If we see any light at all then it may explain the origin of the signal and, perhaps, the discoveries at the Martian pole. When we fly over the day side, we will see the ruin of human civilisation.”
Georgia and Demetria fell silent.
“That is why Stef, Sam and Trish are tense,” said Leo. “Because they can imagine it. I cannot.”
The Armstrong, Earth Orbit – Demetria Philippou
Demetria pressed her nose to the glass, mouth open. Planet Earth now filled their view ports. Whorls of white cloud spun in vast continental banks, spanning the globe and parting over stretches of crystal blue ocean. She felt her heart beating faster as she watched. There was no longer any such thing as sea on Mars. Not for a very long time. Clouds there were ephemeral vapours that materialised then faded away, high above the arid ochre plains. By comparison, this globe seemed to pulse with vitality. How could she have grown up thinking of Earth as dead? It was Mars that now seemed the dead planet, despite the mysterious traces of past life.
Hal’s team were no nearer to understanding the fabricated objects they’d found, though most were agreed that they were unlikely to be of human origin. An intelligent earlier species of Martians? If so, then why hadn’t they found other signs? Demetria wondered if there could be any link to the signal that had unexpectedly fallen silent before their arrival.
They were now inside the great ring of ice that encircled Earth. She could glimpse it at the far edges of her view, sparkling like a tiara. So much frozen water, yet so much more seemed to remain on the planet surface than anyone could explain for certain. Slivers of blue sea glimmered between the banks of cloud below her.
Land slid between the sea and clouds, re-emerging in pools of sunlight. Bright bands of pale yellow stained with orange and grey. Desserts? Plains? She saw green tendrils crawling along coast lines, dividing into spidery trails that stretched inland, perhaps following the course of rivers. Rivers! That would imply rainfall. Rain implied fresh water. Tithonium’s domes were lush with agriculture, watered by artificial showers. The water flowed back into The River that flowed between all domes. She could not count how many strands of green she saw below, and that was just through one gap in the clouds.
Her eyes flowed across the living organism that was Earth and rested on the shining arc of light at the edge of the world. She saw the edge shimmer and if she looked closely, she saw two lines, not one. The second line a ghost of the first. That was the thickness of the atmosphere.
Air.
The glittering band of ice crystals appeared to pierce the far horizon. The sea water and air that had been thrown into orbit after the successive impacts of Goliath now formed rings that rivalled Saturn.
Demetria could not imagine a planet more different from her home. It was alien in every way imaginable, and yet… and yet it drew her. She touched her forehead and fingers to the glass as if more than its gravity were pulling, seeking to embrace her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” whispered Leo kneeling at the porthole beside hers.
“Breath taking,” Demetria’s voice sounded hoarse.
“Mars would take our breath away. Earth may fill our lungs.”
A chime echoed through the crew chamber, scattering Demetria’s thoughts. “Approaching Earth Orbital Space Station,” called Stef over the intercom. “Take your places please.”
“Come on,” said Leo, “Let’s see if we have a ride to the surface of Earth.”
Demetria followed Leo, climbing the side wall of the crew chamber, then pushing off towards the zero G zone along the central axis. She caught a grab rail and guided herself through the airlock to the bridge like a pro. She had had four months to practise. She had also built muscles that were fighting back against the excruciating simulated Earth gravity. She had shown off her newfound biceps to Chen, giggling, who lifted the hem of his shorts to show off his thigh muscles. She gave them an experimental prod and they both laughed. Excessive gravity had its compensations.
Most of the others had already gathered around the viewing screens and view ports, holding onto rails while their hair, now long from the journey, flowed around them like weeds in a river.
“Over there,” Katya pointed to a bright white speck near the horizon. “We’re slowing our approach to match the rotation of the station.”
The plan was to dock with the old space station and look for a shuttle they could recondition and fly to the Earth surface. The Armstrong was strictly an interplanetary vehicle built to travel the void. It was not aerodynamic, and it would burn like a torch if it hit the atmosphere. Even an atmosphere as thin as Mars. That had been the fate of its sister, the Aldrin. The elder colonists still looked traumatised any time they were forced to recall that event.
The Earth Orbital Space Station was a major feat of engineering, built to act as the port for the two space-going vessels. Shuttles had flown between the station and the surface like buses and the elders confirmed that at least four had been docked with the station at any time. That way there would always be an escape route for those working on the station. They hoped there should be at least one shuttle they could make use of, even if it meant raiding the others for parts. The plan had been named by Feng in one of his casual remarks, ‘park and ride.’
That was the plan.
Plans are made to be tested and changed.
As the white speck grew, the crew of the Armstrong leaned forward, peering at the magnified view on the screens. Katya and Stef were frowning. Even Feng looked serious.
“That doesn’t look right,” he said. “Looks like it’s changing length.”
“That’s because it’s spinning,” said Stef, her voice hollow. “We’re looking at it from side on. Because its asymmetrical it looks as if its growing and shrinking.”
“Why would it be spinning?” asked Demetria. She felt a weight in the pit of her stomach. She knew the answer wasn’t going to be good.
“Something may have hit it,” said Feng, calm but frowning.
“Goliath?”
“More likely debris thrown up by the impacts.”
“The shuttles?”
“We’ll see when we get close enough.”
Demetria held her breath. It felt as if everyone was. Feng had assured them there was a ‘Plan B’, but that was only good for two people. It was an awfully long way to come for only two of them to get to the surface and back. Besides, if Plan A didn’t work then who was to say whether Plan B would fair any better?
The vid screens now showed a clear view of the revolving space station.
“One, two… three. I see three shuttles,” counted Katya, more excited than anyone had seen her the whole trip. Apart from when yelling at Pawel.
“The challenge will be getting at them,” said Stef, her voice subdued. She was frowning at the space where a fourth shuttle had been expected.
Katya steered the Armstrong alongside the station, steadily slowing to match orbits. Demetria may have had doubts about her abilities but admitted to being impressed. The station was now clearly visible. Three gantries extended from a central cylindrical hub, but there should have been four. Two carried arrays of solar panels, each as long as the Armstrong. One of those looked battered and torn. Another gantry held the three shuttles, tethered to a shining white tube that looked like the access corridor. That tube continued past the tethered shuttles until it turned at an unnatural angle, its end hidden among a mess of twisted gantry struts. No doubt the last shuttle had been there once. There was a space where the fourth gantry should have been. A bare wrecked stub, girders wrenched aside like river rushes and blackened in the aftermath of some terrible trauma. The wrecked station rotated, the solar panels reflecting the white clouds below and flashing as they mirrored the sun. Eerie and dead.
Katya shook her head, “We can’t dock,” she murmured. “Its rotating too fast to connect.”
“We’ll have to slow it down,” said Feng, rubbing his chin.
“How?”
“I’ll take a space walk,” he said, as if he were going for a stroll in Tithonium Park.
All the crew had been trained in EVA’s. Extra-vehicular activities. They had all been suited up, harnessed to the Armstrong and guided on a slow walk, half floating, half hanging, as they circumnavigated the outside of the crew chamber. Stef called it keel-hauling, with a sly laugh. By the end of their first walk, no one was laughing. Demetria remembered how fragile she had felt, clinging to the ship while seeing the overwhelming void all about her. How thin her visor and suit fabric. How precarious her hold. How small the screws that held the slender steel rope she was hooked onto. She returned to the airlock shivering. Humbled by her insignificance compared to the infinity of space.
“Its okay Feng, I got this,” said Chen, already on his way to the EVA suits.
Demetria felt the weight in her stomach pull, as if she were to be sent out into the void herself.
“We’ll both go,” said Feng, as if suggesting they saunter together, though Demetria could see the concern in his eyes. He looked at Stef for confirmation and she nodded her agreement. Head engineer and technician. They were the right people to go.
About twenty minutes later, Demetria saw them emerging on a long umbilical cord, played out from the airlock in the belly of the Armstrong’s docking hall. Katya had repositioned the Armstrong over the central hub of the crippled space station, so Feng and Chen would descend onto the axis of rotation. Their pair of orange suits appeared tiny against the white shrouds of Earth below. Their connection to the Armstrong tenuous. Demetria gripped the rail beside the view port, her fingers pale. Leo and Georgia watched on the view screen beside her. Silent.
Eventually, Demetria slid over to join her parents and watched a split-screen view, one side showed a magnification of the spacewalkers, the other showed Feng’s helmet-cam view.
“I see an airlock hatch,” called Chen, over the open channel. He was breathing more heavily now, Demetria noticed. Exertion? Fear?
“Ah, yeah, got it,” replied Feng, pointing his helmet in the direction of Chen’s outstretched hand. It showed a white door edged with black and yellow hazard strips. A manual wheel-lock protruded from its centre.
Demetria could see them touch down on the hull of the station hub at the same time as the helmet-cam showed Feng’s hands grasp the rail beside the hatch. He too was breathing heavily. She sensed his relief at securing a hand hold on the station. Had either of them missed they could have bounced off into the void. Both pulled hooks from their belts and snapped them shut over the rails.
“Let’s have a go at this lock,” said Feng. He braced his feet against the rail and gripped it with both hands, trying to turn it. He panted for breath but there was no sign of movement.
Chen positioned himself beside Feng and both strained hard at the wheel-lock. More panting, but no movement. Feng fumbled in a pouch strapped to his belt and pulled out a hammer. He gave the wheel-lock a few well placed taps to loosen it.
“Let’s try again,” he said.
This time the lock shuddered then spun free.
“Nice,” said Chen, smiling back at his uncle, the reflection of Earth mirrored across one side of his visor.
“High-tech,” said Feng, pointing at the Armstrong above him, “Low-tech,” he pointed back at the wheel-lock.
Chen grinned.
Demetria felt the weight in her stomach lift a little.
The airlock hatch swung reluctantly open and the pair of them drifted inside, pulling it too behind them. Now the screen switched to show the view from both their helmet-cams.
“Emergency lighting is still on,” reported Feng, “There’s no power to the airlock. The inner door is opening without resistance, so I doubt there’s air inside. Must have leaked out long ago, after whatever hit the station did its worst.” He pushed the inner door aside to reveal a large lobby, like the docking hall on the Armstrong. Unsurprising since they had been designed by the same engineering teams about fifty Earth years ago. A black ball-point pen and a silvered food wrapper drifted aimlessly across the lobby, side by side, as if after bouncing off the walls for all that time they had settled into a companionable journey together. Chen picked the pen out of the air and turned it over in his gloved fingers, evidently fascinated.
“Cool,” he smiled.
“That’s what ancient Earthmen used for writing,” said Feng.
“I know, I’ve seen the vids. Wonder if it still writes?” he held the ball point against the fabric of his orange sleeve and wrote ‘Hi D’.
Demetria was caught by surprise. She noticed Georgia raising her eyebrow at her. Leo’s eyes were fixed on the screen.
“Come on,” said Feng, “Let’s go see if anything else works. Something more useful.”
“I thought that was sort of useful,” smiled Chen and put the pen in his pouch.
The pair pushed off gently towards the far hatch and let themselves through. The next chamber was much larger. A cylindrical drum, like the crew chamber on the Armstrong. It was like looking into an old-fashioned toy which snowed when you shook it. Hundreds of random objects were in free fall, following the rotation of the station hub itself. A red crate with warning symbols floated past Chen’s helmet. Feng watched a spanner beside a crumpled blue T-shirt with a picture of a round shield and ‘Captain America’ printed over.
“What a mess,” said Feng.
Then Demetria heard Chen take a sharp intake of breath and start to hyperventilate. “Chen!” she cried, “What’s happening to him?”
Leo pointed at the centre of his helmet-cam view. Through the flotsam and jetsam, she could see blonde hair flowing from a white shirt, stained dark red. Two arms splayed in one direction while a pair of legs in stained jeans floated in the other, all loosely connected to the body in the t-shirt.
“Look away,” murmured Georgia, but Demetria couldn’t take her eyes from the body of the woman who had been falling for decades yet never landing.
“Come with me,” Feng said firmly to Chen, taking his hand.
They weaved through the debris to the far side of the chamber. There Demetria saw a ragged hole in the hull and glimpsed Earthlight shining through from the other side. Whatever hit the station had torn a hole in the hub, bleeding it of air. Sucking the breath from the woman’s lungs and even the blood from her veins. Too small a hole for her to pass through. Too wide to stop her life from leaking away.
