Questionable Futures, Part 2: New Growth

Part Two: New Growth

I: Adjustment

It was strange, on reflection, how quickly she had adapted to the Martian lifestyle. Although the two colonies here, and even the small scientific station out at Pluto, worked to the same time frame as Washington DC, Jessica Milles was surprised how quickly she had adapted to the erratic day-night cycle and the landscape free of vegetation. Every day she went first to the large mess hall shared by all in her dome, and ate fruit and vegetables grown here, and meat from animals in the space-city’s farm. Then, when others had tasks and work to complete, Jessica had nothing to do but attend occasional meetings and spend her time in the huge, rainforest-like garden which occupied an entire habitation dome.
Here, she had discovered to her delight and surprise, could be found many of the plants which had been left behind on Earth. Hundreds, thousands of plants filled the reinforced-glass dome, beyond which, ever lit by the leakage of bright lights, could be seen the barren landscape of mars. But within the dome, at the very centre of a group of sapling yew trees, was a simple brass plaque, bearing the name Philton.
When the idea of a tribute to her husband had been raised, Jessica had shown no opinion either way. It had been Hamlet who had suggested it, and inwardly Jessica had been shocked at the thought of wasting valuable resources on such a trivial thing. But the Generals and the leaders of this fledgling community had readily agreed. Then, it had seemed so trivial, so pointless.
But now, it seemed to be the most important thing in the world to Jessica, as she knelt among the yew trees, her short auburn hair covering her soft features. Her cheeks were red from the tears she often wept, but in her eyes, those startlingly blue eyes, were reflected the determination and anger of one possessed. Here, on a world thousands of miles from her home, Jessica Milles had exorcised the ghosts of her past.

*

Hamlet Wenrobe-Smythe’s own quarters were on the very top level of one of the habitation domes, and so claimed a breathtaking view which led to the very stars themselves. Around him, he could see the colony arranged like a flower, expanding from the central point where he stood. It was night, both on Earth and Mars, and the stars reflected off the domes like pearls on a sea of velvet. One of those lights was the Earth; indistinct among those which were mere huge balls of flame, around which orbited other worlds.
Worlds which were unknown to human eyes. Worlds, which Hamlet Wenrobe-Smythe longed to see. As he stared out into the void, a change occurred within him that was to last for the rest of his life. In the morning he would take a ship and make a visit to an old friend.

II: First Action

In the two years he had been on Mars, Michael Yondara had changed. Gone was the weariness which had occupied his features previously. Now, he had an alert look about him, reminding those who saw him of some bird of prey, eyes searching from side to side as if constantly weary of attack. Expertly trained in all manner of arms and equipment, Yondara was preparing to board the Failure for what would be its final trip. With him went all of her crew and much of the base here on Mars. The boarding ramp was before him, with its faded yellow-and-black striping inviting him inside. Michael Yondara looked around at the place he had thought of as his home these last two years and swore to return, to repair the damage that still was not fully healed.

*

The bridge was badly lit, but Failure was a warship, and one could not afford such luxuries in war. Light leakage was potentially dangerous, and there was a warfleet owned by the enslavers on Earth, despite what they told their own citizens about the nature of the world and the stars beyond. But today, the security of government was about to receive a serious blow. The Failure slowed to 1/7th Jump Velocity, and approached its target. In rooms and corridors around the ship, lights dimmed further, so that Failure was nothing more than a small black dot against a black canvas to its target.
Yondara’s hands leapt across the panel before him, activating Failure’s targeting systems and locking them onto their pre-arranged target. The camera scope zoomed in from 1x magnification to 3x, 50x, 400x, 2500x magnification. He could see the building now, and the people down there, scurrying like ants to their daily tasks. A few more adjustments to compensate for the planet’s rotation, and a few tiny bleeps indicated a target lock.
“Target acquired!” he called out, not taking his eyes from the green-tinted screen.
“Gunner, load missile!” called Karduan over the ship’s intercom from his command chair set before the large, metre-thick plastiglass window. The gunner acknowledged, and soon the green “ready” light flicked on at Yondara’s panel. Karduan leaned towards him and nodded briefly, and Karduan pressed the “launch” button.
Through the window, he saw a burning red shape plunge towards the distant blue-green planet, and presently watched on his own screen the eruption into flame of the target building.
“Target is destroyed,” he called.
“Pilot, take us to Jump Velocity. Set JumpDrive target to Jessica system.”
Gundamm acknowledged the command from his place at the rear of the bridge. He called the Failure’s speed out as it rose through the levels, from one-seventh, two-sevenths, three, four-
Failure shook as it made impact with a projectile fired from some unknown direction. Alarm lights began flickering on panels around the bridge, and the ship began slowing. Gundamm swore.
“The engines are hit. We’re not moving anywhere for a long while. So, whoever shot us better get into sight pretty soon so we can have an unfair fight, right Mike?”
Yondara smiled. Between them, Alex Gundamm and Andreus Barnett had customised Failure to be battleworthy even undermanned and undermaintained. With Yondara firing the weapons, they reckoned, she would be able to take on half the rest of the Unity single-handed. Michael Yondara, for one, did not wish to try.
The moon was beginning to rise now, appearing from behind the planet and catching the sun’s rays from behind them, reflecting them back away into space and illuminating, several thousand kilometres away, a ship, hanging in the void, visible as a black shape against a silver disc.
The bridge grew into a hive of action as weapons were readied and shock crept across the features of Failure’s crew. Each and every one of them, save Yondara, knew this craft, from the communal nightmares of jump space.

III: Visionary

Pluto was different again, cold, both to the eye and the mind. There were a few of the refugees living here now, but mostly it was still a research outpost, manned by the scientists who, genius though they doubtless be, were oblivious to the world around them. There were probably some, Wenrobe-Smythe mused, who were still unaware of the situation on Earth, while others probably ignored the fact, burying themselves in their work. Among these, somewhere, was Doctor Ian Rentzin, the man Hamlet Wenrobe-Smythe had meant to go see before now…
Jessica stepped down from the entry/exit ramp of Orion’s Hand beside him, young Kathryn clutched protectively against her chest. That had been one thing that had delayed their trip, of course, and other distractions had presented themselves. He looked anxiously up at the sky, noticing the stars were different once again. Perhaps one day he would find a place and name the new constellations he saw, but that day would not come, he knew, for a long while.
There was a cold wind blowing from the air circulation system, designed to simulate weather on Earth and thus make those here feel less distant, many millions of miles from home. Perhaps, soon, they would be further…

*

It had been a painful birth. Two painful births, in fact. By some strange coincidence, one of the colonists, a dark-haired young girl named Joanna, was also giving birth prematurely, but two weeks as opposed to Jessica’s three. Joanna’s husband was also dead, killed in a mining accident just two months earlier. The two of them had entered the colony’s medical wing together, and gave birth at the same time, to the exact minute. Jessica Milles had never been one to believe in coincidences, and she knew something was amiss well before the doctors had grouped together to discuss, in a way which they probably though surreptitious. But she would never have guessed the reason for their concern until she saw.
Both girls had deep, startlingly bright, emerald green eyes.

*

It was genetic, they had decided; some freak twist in the genes of the children which had caused this unique condition. One of the doctors had decided to name this condition after the two of the, and Milles-DuMarre syndrome was entered into the medical listings as a rare genetic condition.
But Jessica knew that they had proved nothing but their own ignorance. They refused to admit their uncertainty, although Jessica could not blame them. But she knew, looking across the tiny maternal ward at Joanna DuMarre, who smiled worriedly back, that the lives of these girls would be forever intertwined.

*

Most of the monitoring devices on MarsColony Two were directed towards several areas of scientific interest around the system. Others were trained nostalgically towards the Earth, watching humanity’s home from afar. One researcher was staring into the screens, watching a “distant sunrise” when one of his instruments flared into life. Something was moving out into orbital space. The researcher noted it in the daily log and continued his rounds.

*

“Ian!”
Rentzin looked up from his work, absent-mindedly cracking his knuckles as he scanned the room for the caller. At the other end of the repair yard he saw a man and woman walking towards him. He pointed towards a reading on the screen before him.
“Check these out, for me.”
“Yes, Doctor,” replied his assistant.
Rentzin walked across the concrete floor to greet his guests. They met halfway across the room, and the two men embraced briefly.
“What brings you here, your Lordship?” Rentzin asked with a grin.
“A favour I need you to do, Ian. It’ll involve you getting your hands dirty.”
“Well, no chance of that for you, wearing that garb,” laughed Rentzin, waving down at Wenrobe-Smythe’s dress uniform.
The Earl Wenrobe-Smythe raised an eyebrow quizzically, then returned the grin. Then, it was time for business.

IV: Flip Side

“All weapons, target that vessel. Gunner, load thermonuclear missile.”
Yondara’s hands leapt across his panel, but his mind was elsewhere. Why use Failure’s greatest asset against another warship? The thermonuclear warhead was for destroying whole cities, not for ship-to-ship combat. What was this thing which needed so much power to destroy? Should he even obey such an insane order?
He felt a hand upon his shoulder, and all doubt fled from his mind. He looked up to see Alex Gundamm standing over him.
“Don’t worry about it Mike. Messing with your mind’s what they do. That’s we’re nuking the bastards before they do any real damage.”
“But what are they?”
“If I had time to tell you, I would. All you need to know now is that they’re dangerous. Very much so.”
Gundamm walked back up to the rear of the bridge as Barnett declared the weapon to be loaded over the intercom. All eyes on the bridge turned to Karduan, who sat still where he was, watching the advancing ship. It was Gundamm who realised what was happening first, and he leapt up from his station and snapped his fingers before his commander’s face. There was nothing.
“Damn. They got Damaius too. Mike, you got that target yet?”
“Locked on, ready to fire.”
“Then fire, dammit!”
Yondara tapped the firing button and the missile streaked away, directly towards the alien craft. At the same time, he saw, the enemy vessel accelerated directly into its path, advancing nearer and nearer to the Failure. Then, in a flash of blindingly incandescent light, the two collided.
Yondara instantly heard warning sirens from around the bridge. As he watched, the shockwave from the blast spread outwards, carrying Failure with it like a child’s toy.
Cries of shock and confusion accompanied by general confusion grew in the bridge.
“What the hell happened?”
“They accelerated towards the damn nuke so it would take us out with it!”
“How long till we burn at this rate?”
Then, Damaius Karduan stood. He snapped his fingers for Gundamm to return to his panel then flicked on the intercom.
“Andreus, how’s the JumpDrive?”
The intercom was now broken and washed with static, but a reply came through.
“It’s fine, and still set on Jessica, but it’s no good! The engine’s still out remember?”
Karduan smiled. “I don’t need to. Gundamm, go check out our speed. It should be ready soon.”
The shock on Gundamm’s face transformed into shock. “We’re gonna ride this wave outta here?”
Karduan nodded. “Got it in one.”
Failure sped on through empty space, accelerating at an incredible rate, screaming with the stress inflicted upon its ancient metal skin. Its speed grew from 3 sevenths to four in four seconds, and from four to five even faster than this. Soon enough, Failure was at Jump Velocity. One barked order later, and the battered craft flickered and disappeared from normal space.

*

Failure’s sideways motion suddenly stopped, and to the bridge crew, it felt as though the ship was not moving at all. There was an array of collective sighs, and Yondara leant back from his panel.
“Anybody want to tell me what the hell that was, and where it came from?”
Karduan stood, and walked towards the view window. “Nobody know what it was. But we do know that it came from here, and wanted to have us dead.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing the entire window.
“They live in Jumpspace, and have their worlds torn apart everytime we cross through on our way to somewhere else. They can’t hit us when we’re here, but they try to follow whenever someone comes back out. That one must have been waiting around for us to reveal ourselves after we came here to get you. That was damn close.”
Yondara stood, joined his friend at the window, and looked out at the alien place that he knew would never leave his mind.

V: Memories

The readings from Earth had leapt and danced around for days now, and suspicions around MarsColony Two grew. The administrative head of this colony, Captain Ferris, was an astronomer by profession, and held the commission as merely a courtesy detail. He had not been briefed on such matters as Major Karduan of colony One had, and ignored the signals. The matter could wait until the Council returned from this testing out at Pluto.

*

The ship, he realised, was not the beauteous, sleek design he had seen in his dreams, black, curved, pointed towards the stars as a symbol of man’s ingenuity, but rather a blocky, unpleasing sight to behold. Orion’s Hand had been chosen to bear the new JumpDrive, then gutted to make room for the new equipment. Where once there was room for fifty passengers to sit comfortably, or seventy when pressed, the Hand could now bear fifteen, plus her crew of three.
He looked around the room, his eyes searching for Rentzin amongst the various Council members, most of them still dubious about this entire trip. His questing eyes found him in a corner, talking to an attractive young woman who had recently arrived from Mars and cracking his knuckles nervously as he talked. Wenrobe-Smythe smiled to himself. Later tonight, he knew, he would be sitting with Rentzin at the bar, listening to his friend discuss pointless endeavours in the poetic language he only managed to use when it didn’t matter. And tomorrow, Ian Rentzin would have forgotten about the entire affair as he prepared his craft for her maiden flight. Tomorrow, Hamlet Wenrobe-Smythe mused, both their dreams would have been achieved, and what would matter then?
He raised his glass in a toast to the stars above, and drank deeply.

*

The lottery had been run in order to select those who would leave with the crew for Hand’s maiden flight, and the chosen citizens were strapped in. Thirteen scientists, colonists and soldiers were now strapped into their seats behind the cockpit, along with Joanna DuMarre and her daughter, Helen. It had amazed Wenrobe-Smythe that so many had volunteered that a lottery was necessary, but then it occurred to him that they had all chosen to live on these planets so far from their homes, and so this would be the logical next step.
Here, in the cockpit, the three pilots were also prepared. Himself, Rentzin, and the doctor’s assistant were prepared to achieve their dreams. Once again, Wenrobe-Smythe wondered what would be left afterwards. Had he known, he would have unbuckled his harness and left in an instant.
A green light flickered on beside him, indicating that all observers were now in safe positions and launch clearance was granted. He reached beside him and flicked the switch that would send a signal to open the launch bay doors.

*

Mars’s rotation was now in such a position that MarsColony Two was now directly facing the Earth. One of the scientists directed a telescope towards the Earth, trying to find the source of the unknown readings. What he saw made him gasp in terror and rush to his feet, spilling coffee across the room.

*

“Now approaching Jump Velocity.”
“JumpDrive is ready.”
Wenrobe-Smythe looked across the cockpit. The other two were still intently focussed on their instruments, but he could hear them waiting with impatience for him to utter those two words. He turned back to his own instruments and said to them, with some relish.
“Activating JumpDrive.”

*

The colours were pretty, as they flashed past her window. The grown-ups were also staring at them, and Helen joined in. Maybe, she thought, they were going to talk to the man she could see through the window. There he was, raven-haired, with eyes that looked in awe back at her. Helen reached out one of her short arms towards him, and he looked at it. Then he reached out his own arm. He started talking to her, saying things. She didn’t understand, but she listened anyway. She still heard his voice as she fell asleep in her warm, soft chair. She liked the man through the window.

VI: Rest

He slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning in his sweat-drenched bed. The heating on Failure had gone overboard, one moment hot the next bitter cold. Jump space flowed past his window still, and he found it soothing as he tried to find sleep within the turmoil of his mind.
He had a dream. He swam through the darkness of space, breathing the void into his lungs and moving as a fish through water. Ahead of him, he saw a ship, cruising slowly through the darkness on its way to a destination unknown. He swam towards it, until he could reach out and touch the windows himself. Within, he saw people, adults, staring intently out of the windows, staring through him. They saw not the merest sign of his existence, and it frightened him. He sought solace from this denial of himself, and found it through the rearmost window. There, he saw, was a child, barely two years old. She looked up at him, with eyes of deepest emerald, and extended her arm. He found himself doing the same. There, held apart by only a few inches of glass, they almost touched, until the fear left him. He began talking to her, telling her his fears, his worries. She seemed to understand him beyond her years, and smiled again. As she fell asleep, he vowed to protect her. The two of them would remain together, he knew. He would guard her against the nightmares, which had plagued him.

*

Eventually, the ship left jump space, and Michael Yondara awoke with a start. The window in his cabin showed the swirling, bright colours of jump space no longer, but a deep blackness punctuated by a few stars. He stood, and looked out on the Jessican system. A bright blue sun blazed merrily in the distance, while orbiting their slow way around it he counted one, two, three dull barren rocks, and then the planet Jessica itself.
The vast snowfields reflected the sun’s light in a dazzling display of natural illumination. This planet reflected enough light as to appear a small sun to those planets which orbited the sun before it. And, at the very pinnacle, he knew, he would find the Headquarters for the Unity Of Humankind’s Defence Ministry.

*

“Major, incoming vessel. Sir, it’s Human Failure.”
The Leader of the Watch, currently Major Mark Thomas, glanced over the crewman’s shoulder at his data panel. He nodded, then called over to the communications officer. “Get the Minister over here now. He’ll want to see this.”

*

“Human Failure, you are cleared for landing on bay two. Prepare for debrief on landing. Welcome back, sir.”
Karduan looked around the bridge. He saw his crew, looking back at him, their faces turned questioningly towards his. He smiled. “Pilot, activate autopilot. People, let’s greet ‘em in style. Break out the dress uniforms.”
Yondara glanced around as the rest of the ship’s crew stood and filed out of the bridge. He shrugged, and joined them. Perhaps he could find something decent to wear.

*

Failure touched down on the landing bay, raising a barely noticeable breeze amongst the howling winds of Jessica. The honour guard ignored all of this, and stood upright, their rifles shouldered, as the main airlock opened and the exit ramp lowered. The crew of Human Failure walked slowly down the ramp, shivering slightly from the cold.
The twelve crew, plus Yondara, assembled on the pad beside their ship, to greet Defence Minister Murray.
Karduan executed a sharp salute, which was returned by the fur-clad, elderly ex-general. He greeted each of the crew in turn, until he came to Yondara. Yondara stood at the reverent position he had learned in his post as Assistant District Administrator on Earth, and his eyes met with Murray’s. He bowed in a low, sweeping gesture, and once again his eyes met the Minister’s.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Murray extended his arm, and they shook hands, a gesture strangely still common to both cultures, despite over two hundred years’ isolation from each other. The Unity of Humankind could now boast members from all inhabited worlds.

VII: Backlash

This place held all the beauty he had witnessed, and more. The sun here, bright blue and cold, was parent to four planets, the innermost three being barren, hot balls of rock, similar to Mercury or Venus, but the fourth, the incredible fourth planet, was shining, and cold, but it looked, in an indirect way, like home. There was a light blanket of clouds, under which most of the world was a shining, clean globe of white. At the equator, Wenrobe-Smythe could see some other, murky colours, but his vision was unclear at this range. He turned to his companions.
“Shall we go in?”
Ian Rentzin glanced down at his instrumentation. He nodded. “The JumpDrive’s OK. We can go in and check the atmosphere, at least. But, I don’t think we should do a full disembark this trip. Just drop off a few probes and go home.”
Wenrobe-Smythe nodded, and pushed gently forward on his flight stick. He flicked the switch to activate the intercom and cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now approaching the fourth planet of this system, and will be stopping to release some probes. Make yourselves comfortable, and enjoy the view.”
The Orion’s Hand accelerated away towards the sparkling, white world.

*

The anomoly continued towards Mars, as, on the surface, the colonies scrambled into a flurry of activity. Orbital conditions had prevented radio communication with Pluto, so Captain Ferris had taken the only shuttle on the planet and flown to Pluto, leaving behind the scientists and civilians, who, with little else to do, sat and awaited their rescue, or their death.

*

Entering low orbit, Wenrobe-Smythe could see ice, vast plains of ice. From place to place, he saw plants, small purple-leaved growths of a heather-like substance. A short bucking under the ship indicated that the last of the probes had been released, and the Orion’s Hand pulled up away from this strange new world.
Having left orbit, the three pilots went through the same procedure as they had only three hours previously, and Orion’s Hand again disappeared from human sight. The future seemed incredibly peaceful to Hamlet Wenrobe-Smythe.