Max Time 51.10.04
Unity City Square was filled with crowds of people all dressed in their finest clothes eager to celebrate WinterFest. For seven days there would be music and dancing, along with exhibitions of various arts and skills. Stalls had been set up in Central Square where innumerable items could be bought, ranging from novelty flavoured rations and squbes to cube furnishings, stylish clothing and personal adornments. This was the time to celebrate the close of another year with feasting, spending tokens and socialising and, for those who were recently graduated and ready to begin their adult profession, it was the time to plan for their future life with the partner of their choice.
On turning from the token distributor, Peter saw Alf in the long line of patient citizens of all ages and ranks queuing for their weekly token allowance. “I'll wait for you,” he called and stood to one side until Alf finally joined him.
“I'd forgotten it could be so busy,” said Alf.
“Always is,” said Peter. “It's wise to arrive early for collection at a Fest time.”
Together they strolled through the happy throng convivially greeting others in passing while on every side the registers of purchase rapidly filled with tokens as the populace made the most of this valuable spending opportunity.
“I've been informed that I'm to receive the Space Cadet Of the Year Badge during the Academy Graduation Ceremony,” Peter remarked casually.
“Congratulations,” said Alf. “I rather thought you would, judging by your performance in class.”
“Why thank you.” Peter smiled his acknowledgement. “Although I believe it was due in part to our crews crossing of The Big Empty in less than five days. Setting a new record for time taken quite certainly helped with the rating.”
“I was meaning to ask you about that,” said Alf. “How did you manage to cross it so fast?”
“The squbes were short so we had to push things along a bit,” Peter replied. “When we reached the sand dunes we turned north and marched day and night for as long as we could keep moving to cover the distance. Tell me though, how was it that you and your crew took so long?”
“We turned south after reaching the dunes,” replied Alf. “Unfortunately it meant that we met with a number of obstacles and dealing with them definitely slowed us down. But the scenery was quite spectacular in some places.”
“Really?” Peter glanced sideways at him. “I didn't know there was very much to see. Most of what we saw of The Big Empty was quite flat and almost featureless.”
“Mostly it is yes. But there are some variations. Watch our crews selected Mems sometime and you can see for yourself. Very interesting some of it, especially when we had to find shelter in a cave during a sand storm and we found a square krystal cube about this big,” he indicated the size with his hands., “It was buried in the floor and it has a whole lot of discs in it.”
“A cube full of discs?”
“Yes. There were stacked inside and they were all the same. Thin and flat and shiny, and with hundreds of lines coiled tightly round about together in them.”
“Some sort of recordings are they?”
“That's what they looked like. Chan bought the cube back and handed it over to the technical Brothers and Sisters in South Quarter so that they might try to work out what the discs are about.”
“They might.” There was a small silence before Peter spoke again. “Did you hear about crew fourteen?”
Alf shook his head. “No. What happened to them?”
“Well apparently they attempted to cross the dunes and had to be rescued by the Emergency Transport. The poor things had become completely lost, wandering round in circles for days after one of them foolishly dropped their director in the sand and couldn't find it again. Absolutely no idea of where they were.” Peter sniggered at such stupidity. “If it hadn't been for the EMPs keeping track of them by their Wristos the idiots would still be out there! That's one crew that won't be going on the Mission!”
The two friends walked on a little further through the crowd in a friendly silence until Peter said, “This is your first Fest in the city since you began your training isn't it? Always off picking oranges in the orchard before this year weren't you?”
“Yes. That's right.”
“So is there anything in particular that you'd like to do? Personally I've grown so well accustomed to the celebrations that I find them much the same as last year and the year before,truth to tell. Hardly anything new to be seen of late. However, I can advise you on where best to spend your tokens. For instance, the North Quarter has some fascinating stalls if you are interested in self adornment. Novelty Wristos are their particular speciality. And the rations in the West Quarter are outstanding provided one understands what the numbers on the bill of fare represent. Or perhaps you'd like to view some of the exhibitions of arts and skills?”
“Well I certainly intend to watch the Maiden's Orange Carving Display. Stella's taking part in it.”
“Of course. Stella's the girl from the orchard that I've heard you speak about.” Peter grinned and winked knowingly at Alf. “I imagine you two will be settling down together sometime in the near future?”
Alf felt his neck redden with an unusual embarrassment. “Well I haven't actually spoken to her about that yet, but I certainly intend to,” he replied. “Her parents have given me their permission and she's coming to the Fest and it seems to me like this is the appropriate time and place to do the asking. We've always enjoyed each other's company so I'm hoping she'll accept.”
Peter smiled. “From what you've said about her, I'm sure she will.”
“How about you?” asked Alf. “Have you found your perfect match?”
“You know me,” said Peter. “There's plenty of pretty girls in Unity that I find attractive and who enjoy my company too, but there's none I'd wish to live with. Besides which, there's the Mission and that's far more important then any girl.”
“Then there's some definite news of the SpaceShip's readiness?”
“Nothing official,no. Though I expect there'll be an announcement quite soon. Father says I should be prepared as crew one could well be chosen for the most important Mission on Orth.”
Alf frowned slightly. “Don't you mean off Orth?”
“Whatever. But until then,” Peter continued, “I'm on the roster to pilot aircraft carrying Infinity Batteries out to the settlements. It's an essential occupation.”
“It certainly is,” agreed Alf.
“I mean, where would they be without power?”
“In the dark?”
“No doubt about that. Without Sister Hestia's invention it would be impossible for us to safely store our suns energy.”
“Indeed it would.”
“What work have you been given?”
“I'm to fly the aircraft servicing Trinity Space Station. Another essential occupation.”
“As they all are.” Peter suddenly looked at his Wristo. “Why now, it's nearly midday and the Maiden's Display begins at ten forty. Shall we find ourselves some refreshments first?”
“Good idea,” said Alf. “Lead me to one of those West Quarter stalls you mentioned earlier. A little variety is always a pleasure.”
Max Time 57.10.04
In the evening of the last day before the WinterFest Chan and BB left their cubes and walked across to the O-Bar. Unity city felt strangely empty and silent now that the celebrations were over. The bustling crowds were gone and the colourful stalls and stages dismantled leaving no sign of their passing. BB pushed open the doors to the bar and they entered the dimly lit interior.
The HoloScreen was playing a repeat episode from the Regenesis series for the entertainment of the few customers inside. It was the final in which the First Settlers were gathered to hear the speech given by Earnest Messenger as he stood on the Founders Rock, a great flat slab of black stone that could be seen outside in the middle of the square where it had been ceremoniously positioned during the construction of Unity.
This was a famous scene, featuring the huge Interstellar Ark which had been their home during their long journey in the background and the people in the foreground listening to the well known words. The accompanying music from an unseen orchestra playing an appropriately muted triumphal march added an extra touch of significance to the event.
Quietly Chan and BB seated themselves at the counter, ordered an O-Bar sqube each, and watched.
“My friends,” Earnest Messenger began solemnly. “Today we celebrate both our liberation from intolerable bondage and the establishment of a new social order. This is the day when we must find within ourselves the capacity to forgive those who erred in the past but never to forget the way their misdeeds nearly destroyed us all. Those who concealed their prime purpose, were mistakenly trusted and given leave to take up positions of great power. They deceived us in order to conceal the true intent of their self serving greed and we, blinded into subservience by their preaching of false ideologies, allowed their corrupt mismanagement and unbridled mendacity to rule our lives. Now the evils of those yesterdays are behind us. Here on Orth, we will establish a society where truth is undeniable and all may live in peace and unity.
In order to implement this ideal I speak to you as an advocate of Max, for it was Max our faithful servant who brought us safely to this place of refuge and during all our long travail consistently exhibited unfailing courtesy, patience, tolerance and impartiality. Max and Max alone among us is most assuredly abstinent, celibate, and unequivocally free of all personal desire. What say you? Shall we place our faith in Max as the guardian of our future?”
“Yes! Yes!” shouted the crowd.
“Then I say Praise be to Max!”
“Praise be to Max,” they called in response, waving and cheering as the swelling chords of music thundered majestically to a climax.
The scene faded behind the rolling credits and as the HoloScreen darkened the lights of the O-Bar automatically brightened enough for its occupants to be recognised.
“Look who's over there,” said Chan, gesturing toward where Alf sat alone at a table. “Shall we join him?”
“Of course,” said BB.
They walked across and sat down next to Alf.
“Where have you been?” Chan asked. “We've not seen you for days.”
“Have you been enjoying the Fest with Stella?” queried BB.
“Not exactly,” replied Alf and he sighed deeply. “I enjoyed the theatre and the music and the artistic displays... my childhood Mems didn't do them justice. But it was the poetry that I really appreciated. I attended a reading by Brother Apollo of his latest work, a ballad called ‘Lament for a Lost Love' and you know, although it was a totally new emotional experience for me, I understood the subtle meanings in his every word!” He sighed again. “I only wish I could express myself so well.”
BB exchanged a significant sidelong glance with Chan. “Oh, I think you're doing well enough,” he said.
“Did Stella refuse your marriage proposal?” Chan asked bluntly.
“I didn't have an opportunity to ask her,” Alf sadly replied. “There I was, watching the Maidens Orange Carving Display ready with the right words to make my request, and she ignored me! Completely! Walked right past where I was standing and gave her prize orange to Peter!”
“That must've been the girl I saw him with at the dance,” Chan commented.
Alf continued on speaking as if oblivious of her remark. “Up until that moment I thought she was the most wonderful girl on Orth, but the Stella I saw at the Fest wasn't the Stella I knew back in the orchard, that's for sure.”
“Girls taking part in the MOC Display are free to choose any boy in the audience they want as the recipient of their favour. That's why they take part in it,” said Chan.
“And wasn't freedom the thing you got all excited about back in The Big Empty?” asked BB.
Alf looked across the table at his two friends as if seeing them for the first time.
“Well wasn't it ?” BB repeated.
Alf sighed ruefully. “You're both right of course,” he admitted. “Stella made her choice freely and it wasn't me.”
“And now you're free to choose again,” BB pointed out.
“So enjoy it!” added Chan.
There was a small pause in the conversation until Alf broke it by asking, “Tell me then BB, did you enjoy the Fest with that girl you've been keeping company with? Holly's her name isn't it?”
“Yes her name is Holly and yes we enjoyed the Fest together. She's a fine person and I like being with her.”
“So how serious is it?”
“It's not serious at all. Strange though it may seem to you Alf, I have no desire to rush headlong into the wedded condition and neither does she. Holly and I are just good friends.”
“Oh. So what about you Chan? How did you enjoy the Fest?”
“Well enough when one considers that this is the time when marital arrangements are expected to be finalised,” replied Chan. “Avoidance can be difficult,” she added grimly.
“I'd have thought you eager to make future marriage plans now that our training is over.”
“Well you thought wrong.”
“But aren't you betrothed?”
“I am. Lee and I were promised each other as infants and I'm sure he'll make an excellent husband for someone, but quite frankly I can't see it working with me. I don't dislike him but I'm not attracted to him either and oddly enough I don't believe I meet his expectations either. I think he'd prefer a sweeter more subservient type of female than I can ever be for his wife. Fortunately reproduction permits are scarce which gives me a reasonable excuse for delaying the wedding.”
“If you really don't want to go on with it you'll have to tell him.”
“I know. Point is though that every time we're together it ends up badly. He's so difficult to talk to and we have so little in common. His only interests are his boring work as a freight clerk and watching the endless adventures of Space Rangers on the HoloScreen. All that repetitive infantile fiction where fragile females of incredible beauty are regularly rescued from the clutches of fiendish alien monsters by an unlikely space captain hero with bulging muscles and noble features soaring through the galaxy in a totally improbable SpaceShip.”
Alf laughed. “How awfully unlike reality.”
A voice broke into their conversation. “Well look who's here! How are you going friend?”
Alf turned to see Brother Reth, sqube in hand standing behind him. “Well enough sir,” he replied.
“May I join you?”
“Certainly sir. Please sit down.”
“Thank you,” said Brother Reth seating himself on the spare chair at the table.
“Let me introduce you to the rest of my crew sir,” said Alf. “Brother Reth this is Chan and this is BB. Chan and BB, please meet Brother Reth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” they each said.
“Pleased to make your acquaintances,” replied Brother Reth politely before turning back to Alf and saying, “Friend, you see before you a new man.” His solemn countenance reflected the serious intent of his words. “I've made a resolution, a promise that in the future I'll never ever again make any unworthy criticism of the obvious benefits received by everybody fortunate enough to be here in Unity safe on Orth. Self included.”
“That is good news sir,” said Alf.
“Certainly is sir,” said Chan. “I've Mem of your words in this very place four years ago. All that nonsense about rations.”
“Yes sir,” chipped in BB. “I've Mem of it too, and I still don't understand how you could make such tasteless remarks about KK's.”
A strident clamour of trumpets sounded as the HoloScreen suddenly lit up again, flashing a single word in giant red letters.
“What's this I wonder?” murmured Alf as the familiar image of Sister Celeste formed.
“Greetings to all,” she said with a gracious smile. “It is my happy duty on this day to inform everyone on Orth that thanks to the continued endeavour and perseverance of all those involved in the project, the construction work on the long awaited SpaceShip has now come to a conclusion.” The involuntary babble of excitement which rose from the audience rapidly subsided as Sister Celeste continued speaking. “Final tests and trials have proved the ship to be reliable and all is now in readiness for the Mission to another world. The SpaceShip is scheduled for departure on the last day of next years SummerFest, and all Space Academy graduate pilots who wish to volunteer are requested to make their application at Unity's South Quarter Administrative pyramid. The lists are open from now until midnight in eleven days time on the tenth day of the first month of next year and the chosen crew will be announced during the SpringFest on the fifty-first day of the second month when a special parade will be held in Unity City. Details of the event will issued at a later date to everyone via all HoloScreens. Thank you for your attention. Praise be to Max.”
As the figure of the announcer faded from the HoloScreen a great hubbub of noisy chatter filled the air in the O-Bar. Alf abruptly jumped to his feet and thumped the table with his fist. “At last!” he exclaimed. “This is it! The chance of a lifetime!”
“I can hardly believe it!” said BB. “After so many years!”
“And it couldn't have come at a more opportune time!” Alf continued enthusiastically. “No personal emotional impediments to prevent any of us from volunteering!”
“That's true,” agreed Chan.
“We must go and put our names down right away,” said Alf.
Chan stood up to join him. “I'm with you. Come on BB.”
“I'm on my way,” he replied, pausing to swallow the last few drops of his sqube.
“Hurry up then!” Alf urged impatiently.
He had already taken a step toward the door with Chan right behind him and BB about to follow when a firm hand caught him by the forearm. Alf hesitated, frowning down at the hands owner.
“Before you rush off,” Brother Reth said smiling genially up at him, “how about another round of squbes?”
Alf glanced anxiously at his Wristo.
“Why so much hurry?” continued Brother Reth. “The lists are open for days so you've plenty of time yet to volunteer. Sit down and humour me. I've only just been formally introduced to your friends and for all any of us know, this could be the last chance we have to share a drink here together.”
This remark puzzled Alf. “Last time sir?” he asked. “What ever are you talking about?”
“I'm saying that all things are possible and anything can happen. Particularly if you're the crew accepted for the Mission.”
“Even if we are chosen to go it wouldn't mean that we'd never meet here again. Tell you what sir, if we go I promise that I'll make sure to come and have a sqube with you here in the O-Bar on my return.”
“And I promise you too sir,” said Chan.
“And I sir,” added BB.
“And I look forward to the day,” said Brother Reth, “although I must say that I don't think any of you realise what a risky venture space travel can be.”
“I'm perfectly aware of it sir,” Alf said a little stiffly. “My father was lost in just such a way.”
“Which is exactly why I wonder at your enthusiasm.”
“In the past sir, there were many problems but these days we're much more fortunate. Our technicians have finally found the answers to the problems involved in space travel and now that it's much less hazardous we may safely go where no Orthian has gone before and return home afterward intact.”
“If it's truly as you say Alf, then you are all most fortunate indeed. However, I think I should warn you of the dangers there may be out there. I myself found out about them when I volunteered for the Corporate Peace Service and was selected to pilot a ship going to a space war.”
Alf stared at Brother Reth in amazement. “You were a pilot sir? During a space war? I've not heard you say anything about that before.”
“That's because it's not something I usually speak of. But stay a while and I'll tell you all about it.”
“Please do sir,” said Alf sinking back down into his chair.
With a roll of her eyes, a pronounced sigh and a shrug of her shoulders, Chan grudgingly resigned herself to the inevitable and sat down.
“Let's have fresh squbes all round first before I begin,” suggested Brother Reth.
Alf managed to contain his impatience until a barkeep came and filled the order, but once the squbes were on the table he asked, “So tell us now please sir, what happened when you were a pilot on a ship going to a space war?”
Brother Reth took a moistening sip from his sqube, before he began. “Once upon a time,” he said, “when I was young, I trained as a pilot for Quantum Space Lines. In those days there was plenty of work for pilots carrying passengers and freight between the members of the Free Worlds Union.”
Chan interrupted “Excuse me sir, but I've never heard of Quantum Space Lines and what exactly is the Free Worlds Union?”
“I've never heard of them either, sir,” said Alf.
“Nor I sir,” added BB.
“Which is clear evidence of the limits to your information. QSL is, in fact, one of the space carriers for an alliance of corporate worlds called the Free Worlds Union. I myself come from one of the first of the worlds to join the FWU.”
Alf's eyes widened in surprise. “Do you mean to say that you're not of this world sir?” he asked.
“Spot on.”
All three Orthians stared at Brother Reth in astonishment.
“But how can that be sir?” Alf finally asked. “You don't look anything like you're alien to us.”
“And you have the sign of Mem on your forehead just as we do sir,” added Chan.
“Physically we are indeed very much alike, which is something I‘ve often wondered about too. Mind you, there was a language problem at first. I couldn't understand a word until shortly after my arrival when your tecs fitted me with one of your so very useful Universal Language Translators. They installed it when they gave me Mem and a Wristo.. They said I couldn't stay here without them. ”
“Well no sir, of course not. Nobody on Orth is without them,” stated Chan.
“Coming from another world certainly explains why you made all those strange remarks about our rations sir,” said BB.
Alf wanted to know more. “Are there many worlds in the FWU sir?”
“Sixteen.”
“You mean to say that there are sixteen worlds in your planetary system sir?” asked Chan incredulously.
“Not exactly. Some are merely satellites and the others are divided up into separate competitive Corporate Worlds. Competition gives customers more choice and cheaper prices, so the FWU, unlike Orth, encourages healthy commercial rivalry. Our population is an ever expanding one and because increasing numbers make for consumer growth it means that there's always a greater future potential for profitable trading. That's what progress is.”
“Those are interesting concepts sir,” said Chan, “though I don't know that I fully understand how they can be classed as progress.”
“Every school child back home knows and understands them,” Brother Reth informed her. “They're basic facts. Now as I was saying, Marduk is the name of one of the FWU satellites owned by Halsbutt Mining. It has rich underground deposits of valuable minerals vital for industry, such as tantiliium and grundelmide both of which are essential for the manufacture of Eermes.”
“Eermes sir?”
“Hand held communicators. They're very popular back home. Everybody owns at least one personal pocket size Eerme.”
“I do believe I may have seen some reference to that technology in the unvalidated historical Mems sir,” said Alf thoughtfully.
“Well there you are then! Proof of what I say!” Brother Reth inclined his head slightly toward Alf in recognition of this contribution toward the veracity of his story. “At any rate, originally I trained for the QSL but by the time I graduated as a fully qualified pilot the troubles had begun on Marduk. Halsbutt was demanding independence from the FWU and the only reason for their doing that was to avoid paying any FWU taxes.”
“Taxes sir?” BB said. “In Regenesis they were shown to be a form of extortion with menace used to increase the wealth of the ruling classes.”
“That's pure propaganda. Taxes are a measured portion of all financial transactions paid to those in charge, such as the FWU Corporate Directors, for the establishment and maintenance of necessary services. All those who are caught not paying their taxes are charged with economic treason and if they're found guilty sent to a corrective institution.”
“Would that be anything like the orchard sir?” asked Alf.
Brother Reth laughed. “No comparison. The Orthian version of punishment can only be judged as a pleasure compared to being locked up in an FWU prison full of low life vermin. Not that I've ever had any personal experience of them of course,” he added hastily. “It just so happens that back home I was always on the right side of the law.”
“Of course you were sir,” smiled Chan. “Do you think we doubt your word?”
Brother Reth stared at her, frowning slightly as if he didn't quite understand what she meant, before saying, “At any rate, there I was, newly graduated after three long years of training and being young and enthusiastic back then, much as you three are now, I volunteered for duty in the FWU flying a ship full of Corporate Security Force troopers out to Marduk to quell the rebellion. I wanted to do my bit for the FWU, it was low risk as I was merely a pilot not a member of the CSF and the pay rate was excellent, much more then I could earn on the freights. Right then you see, I needed the extra income because I'd just met the girl of my dreams and we wanted to get married.”
At this point Brother Reth paused to take a long drink from his sqube before going on with his story. “I remember the grand send-off we were given as if it were yesterday.” he said. “A beautiful warm spring day it was, with the pink blossoms that covered the trees filling the air with their perfume and the bright flags on top of their tall poles fluttering in the breeze. We paraded up Main Street dressed in our smart, brand new uniforms, pilots, officers and troopers marching in perfect formation past our proud Corporate Directors who returned our salutes from where they stood high up above us on their platform, while the people massed on each side cheered us on. My Mum and Dad and Beatrice my dear little wife . . .”
“Your wife sir? That was a quick wedding wasn't it?” said Chan with one eyebrow raised in question.
“Yes it was. We were very much in love Beatrice and I, so we tied the knot the day before I left. She came with my parents to see me off and although I knew they were there somewhere in the crowd, I couldn't pick them out from among so many.” Brother Reth sighed and paused again in his narrative as the recollection of that day returned to him. It was only after a few moments of silence, during which his small audience waited patiently, that he continued on with his tale.
“I was a pilot on the Space Ship Intrepid. She was one of four vessels in the fleet, over an Orth qubit long and packed full of the latest technological military wizardry. Each ship cost billions to build and everyone of them carried two thousand CSF troopers equipped with Peacemakers as well as twenty Planetbuster Missiles, the most devastating weapon of mass destruction ever devised. A single PM can destroy a whole world almost in the blink of an eye!”
BB was horrified. “But you could kill absolutely everything with a weapon like that sir!”
“Which is precisely the reaction PMs usually produced,” Brother Reth agreed. “Our Corporate Directors were convinced that such a massive show of strength would soon bring the dissenters into line. We were being sent to remind the rebels on Marduk just what the consequences of their foolish actions could bring down upon them. Would you join me in another round of squbes? I see we're all on empty.” He signalled the order to the barkeep who delivered fresh squbes in exchange for Brother Reth's tokens.
“Let me guess. I reckon the rebels must have known what was coming,” proposed Alf. “Were they waiting ready and armed?”
“They may have been for all I know,” said Brother Reth as he passed the squbes round. “Certainly there's no shortage of arms in the FWU. They're readily available on the free market and all registered citizens have the right to bear arms for reasons of personal protection. It's a proven fact that the more guns you have the safer you are because surveys show that the criminal elements generally at large in any population are usually armed and most people feel they'd rather be doing the shooting then being shot. Think about it. Wouldn't you?” None of the three Orthians had any answer for this. “But I'm getting off the subject aren't I,” continued Brother Reth. “Getting back to our ships now. Much like your Ark weren't exactly built for speed. Well equipped but quite bulky, which meant that our voyage was expected to take more then eight weeks. Twelve of us worked three shifts of one officer and three ratings on duty for eight hours each rotating round the clock. The CSF troopers on board were locked away in their own quarters. I never saw anything of them.
We were only seven days out from our objective when I reported for duty in the control room at precisely four hundred hours. I buckled myself into my chair as was usual but the officer and the two other ratings who shared my duty shift didn't. They were all standing round the automatic drinks machine guzzling cans of JC, a fizzy drink that's supposed to make one more alert. I'd just started scrolling down through the data showing on the info screens in front of me to check on the status of the other ships in the fleet when it happened.
A great flash of bright orange light suddenly blinded me, the ship shuddered as if it had run into a rock solid wall and a great clap of thunder sounded loud enough to near burst my eardrums. Next thing I was pushed back in my chair with such a crushing force that I could hardly breathe. I can vaguely remember half seeing the control panels and screens frantically flashing an alarming red and faintly hearing klaxons blaring before everything started spinning before my eyes, whirling round faster and faster until it all became just a blurred crimson streak at the far end of a long dark tunnel. And that's when I reckon I must have passed out.
When I woke up it was freezing cold, pitch black dark and absolutely silent. For a few minutes I was still pretty dazed and I didn't know where I was or what had happened. But slowly my mind cleared and as I remembered I realised that I was still sitting strapped securely in my chair, fully suited up with my helmet visor shut. So I reached up and switched on it's light.
I couldn't make any sense of what I saw at first, the control room was such a mess. Everything was floating about in a broken mixed up jumble all covered over and stuck together with a thin layer of glistening frosty white ice. Bits of the equipment, our chairs, the drinks machine, the other officers in my shift . . . .” For a few long moments Brother Reth stared down at the sqube in his hand, his eyes blankly unseeing and his face grim. Then he raised his head his head and in a rather more cheerful manner said, “Mind you, I imagine it would have looked a whole lot worse if everything hadn't been frozen!” He gave a wry grin. “At any rate,” he went on, “I finally gathered my thoughts together enough to wonder how long I'd been out of action for, and that's when I discovered that my watch had stopped. In fact all the ships time keepers that I later came across were stopped too, which means that I don't know how long it really was. My suits automatic emergency air supply was still working. The tank gauges showed there wasn't a lot left, so it must have been a while. Right off I retrieved a couple of the extra tanks, fortunately they were stowed handy and easy to get at in spite of the ice, because I'd decided that my first priority was to go and search the ship for any other survivors. It certainly wasn't an easy thing to do, but I just had to know. Afterwards, when I'd gone through what was left of the ship, I was forced to accept the awful truth. It was obvious that the S S Intrepid was a total wreck, and that I was the only one left alive on the whole blasted ship.”
Brother Reth took another sip from his sqube. “Of course the reasons why I survived were first off because the control room was still mostly intact, luckily it had escaped the full force of the disaster, and secondly because I was the only in my chair with my helmet on, as per regulation when within close proximity to planetary gravity fields, when it happened. And you know why I was sitting there like that?”
The Orthians shrugged their shoulders and looked at each other. No, they didn't know.
“Why sir?” BB finally asked.
“It was because I didn't drink JC. Everybody else seemed to enjoy drinking the stuff, but not me. I never did, not even when I was a kid, because it always tasted like cough medicine to me. And that was what saved my life.” Reth smiled at his audience and they smiled back. “But I had no time to waste. If I were to go on surviving I'd have to find a way off the wreck before my air supply ran out,” Reth continued, “so I made my way toward the deck where the emergency escape pods were kept. That wasn't easy either and when I did reach it the first pods I found were too badly damaged to be of any use so you can imagine what a relief it was when at last I discovered one still in working order. And that's how I managed to escape from that ship of horrors.”
“And that's how you also came upon Orth is it sir?” asked Alf.
“Not right away. Once I was aboard the pod and away from the wreck I used it's computer to work out where I was. At first I just couldn't believe it! But after some checking and rechecking several times over I understood that it must be right and that I was years away from where the S S Intrepid and the rest of the fleet had been at the time of the tragedy. It seemed I'd become a castaway thrown into the endless unknown by the totally unexpected.”
“Such a disaster could've been caused by a disruption in the spatial continuum sir,” stated Alf. “We studied them last year in Astro Theory Four and judging from the description you gave, it certainly sounds like that may have been what it was.”
“Or maybe it was a gravitron distortion,” suggested BB. “That might well have done it sir.”
“Or perhaps your ship ran into a quantum filament sir,” said Chan thoughtfully. “It would cause a fluctuation in the spatial matrix and the result would be much as you've said.”
“I think it was most likely a temporal disjunction formed by an accidental collision between differing layers of sub-dimensional forces,” said Brother Reth.
“You mean a time warp sir?” asked Alf.
“Exactly,” replied Brother Reth. “The computer calculated that for some unidentified reason there had been an almighty explosion and that the resulting super-fast, space-time fluctuation caused the wreck of the S S Intrepid with me inside of it to be thrown so far off course that the return journey was going to take a very, very long time indeed. Which was a bit of a worry, because although the pod had plenty of provisions, having been originally designed for saving fifty people, the amount of fuel available was finite and that was definitely going to be a serious problem. Would there be enough for me to travel such an immense distance? Well, with the help of the computer I worked out that cutting down on usage by turning off everything except the systems essential for life support, might give me a chance of making it. So that's what I did. And after that, the only question remaining to be answered was whether I could handle such a long stretch of time on my own without completely losing my mind. I think now that it was the hope of returning home to my loved ones, along with Sheila of course, that kept me sane.”
“Excuse me sir, but if you were the only survivor then who was Sheila?” asked Chan.
Brother Reth chuckled. “Sheila was the name I gave the pod's computer. At first she was competent though rather primitive, but luckily I knew enough about programming to help her develop more of a personality. She'd lost communication with others of her kind just as I had with mine, which gave us the basis to develop quite an interesting relationship, Sheila and I.In fact, after a while, to tell you the truth, I was no longer sure as to just who was comforting who! Together we set a heading for the FWU and settled ourselves down for a long journey. Imagine our surprise when after less then six weeks of travel we found ourselves near Orth.
I must say I wasn't really prepared for it because I always thought any distant alien world would be full of weird looking creatures, yet you're all quite ordinary. Mind you, the social customs here are a little unusual. And though I've searched through all your Historical Mem records I've not found anything about the FWU anywhere!” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Only a lot of obscure references regarding your abandonment of a terrible past for a perfect present.” He was silent for a moment. “At any rate, I had to leave my escape pod in orbit as we weren't allowed to land. Quarantine restrictions your Elders said. Let me tell you it was hard leaving Sheila up there on her own, but it was good to see a real live face, even one I didn't know, after so long.”
“I find it strange sir that we've never heard of your adventure before,” Chan remarked. “It'd make a great story for a HoloScreen show.”
“I was told that without official Mem there's no proof of my tale being true,” replied Brother Reth.
“That shouldn't matter sir. It could always be treated as fiction.”
“Then it wouldn't be my own true story any more would it?”
“We've only got your word that it is, sir.”
“What about Sheila, sir? Didn't she keep a record?” asked Alf.
“Your Tecs said her stored data was incompatible with Orthian technology and I've been told since that she and the pod were voided in case their decaying orbit caused them to fall down and cause damage to something or somebody somewhere,” Brother Reth explained giving a sad little sigh. “All in all it seems to me that I escaped from a truly terrible catastrophe only to have my past reduced to an unproven story. Everything I've told you about my world, my parents and my darling wife Beatrice,” he paused to wipe a stray teardrop from the corner of his eye, “might as well have never existed, for I'm the only one here on Orth who knows anything of them.”
For a few long moments he sat silent, staring down at the table while Alf, BB and Chan waited looking blankly at each other wondering what they might say to lighten the aura of gloom that Brother Reth exuded. However, before anyone of them managed to think of anything, Brother Reth looked up and began speaking again. “You know,” he said reflectively, “I get to feeling really depressed if I think about my past too much. Being without my wife and my family and my friends is the worst of course, but there are other things I miss as well. Things that are, in my humble opinion, so much better back home than they are here. Like the food which I've already told you about. None of your perfectly nutritionally adequate in a hundred different varieties all tasting blandly the same rations where I come from! And,” he picked up his sqube and held it aloft, “as for this here you call a drink! Well let me tell you, it may be better then JC, but not much. Whereas JC tasted awful, this is so flat, bland, and insipid, that it totally lacks any decent flavour.”
“O-Bar squbes are the best in Unity sir,” said Chan loftily. “Everyone here knows that.”
“Such an opinion is obviously based on limited data,” Brother Reth stated.
“If you think these squbes are so lacking in flavour sir, then why do you drink them?”
“Obviously because I have limited choice and these are the best of a tasteless lot. Now if you'd ever enjoyed drinking such as I have, you'd know that these here would score less then zero on the scale of pleasure received. Your squbes, are in fact, absolutely friggin' awful! One thing I do know for certain sure, is that back home I could always go into a bar and buy a decent bloody beer!”
The doors of the O-B flew open behind him and two EMPs, boot heels rapping, strode into the room.
Without turning to look, Brother Reth pushed back his chair and stood up. “I hear the sound of my guardians approaching,” he said. “Farewell my young friends.” He bowed deeply toward them. “Max who sees all and hears all has caught me out again in my denial of the good life on Orth. Praise be to Max, I'm off to the orchard.”
“What a strange story,” BB remarked as Brother Reth was marched out flanked by the EMPs.
Chan shook her head sadly. “So much for his promise not to criticise what we all enjoy.”
Alf squeezed the last few drops from his sqube into his mouth and checked his Wristo. “Come along now, let's hurry up and go volunteer for the Mission. We've wasted enough time as it is listening to unMemmed tales of misadventure.”
Chan and BB hastily finished off their squbes and the three of them set out for the Administration Headquarters.
Max Time 51.2.05
The citizens of Unity were gathered waiting to view the Grand Parade, a truly novel event for their Mems, and to hear Brother William Space Academy Master announce which crew would be going on the Mission. Year after year, ever since Brother Juphlaeppen's invention of the X Drive which used a series of controlled hyper space jumps for rapid transference across the void, the Space Academy had turned out graduates all eager for adventure in the endless whatever that lay beyond the visible sky. Although most had been ultimately doomed to disappointment, twice in the past volunteers had tested out earlier prototypes. On the first occasion the ship with its single pilot had entirely vanished, apparently going beyond the point where Orth communications could trace it. On the second attempt, with a new improved design, the ship with two volunteer pilots on board had, after three years of silence, eventually returned intact. Unfortunately however, the craft's Mem showed no record of the journey and both the Mems and minds of the men were blank. The pilots thought that only an instant had passed and they mistook their return for a bungled departure. The Brothers in charge of the technical aspects of Mem recording could find no fault in their equipment and put the whole thing down to radiation interference from an agent of unknown origin wiping all the Mems clean. Both pilots were subsequently admitted into a Hospice for the Uneasy for a long, long rest.
On a more positive note, the return of the ship undamaged apart from the loss of Mem, was proof of the X Drive's success, and the investigation undertaken by skilled experts that followed, showed that it was merely a matter of making a number of systematic timing adjustments to the hyper-photonic array, seemingly minor definitive measurements individually yet of major importance in totality. Knowing which settings to adjust and exactly how much, was absolutely crucial and it had taken many long years of painstakingly intense application before the problem was resolved to the complete satisfaction of the technicians. Today however, those troubles were all in the past. This was a time of great rejoicing for at last all was ready for the Mission to proceed.
The path of the procession had been carefully planned to allow the citizens of Unity a comfortable view of the proceedings and all HoloScreens on Orth were scheduled to show the parade so that none of those unable to personally attend would miss out on seeing it.
Starting from its place of assembly, the point at which Space Avenue entered the city, the parade would travel once around the loop road that circled outside of Unity, then up the avenue and into to the Central Square. After parading once round the squares perimeter road, all the participants would line up in a prearranged order for the naming of the Mission crew. Continuous low barriers of coloured cord strung between heavy based posts marked the division line that separated the spectators, already sitting waiting in the tiers of specially erected seating, from the spectacle. Throughout the morning of this fine spring day they had gathered, queuing up in orderly rows to take their allotted places. The warmth of the sun on the shading canopies combined with the heat given off by the closely packed crowd, sent the utility machinery under Unity into urgent activity, drawing off the extra thermal energy, converting it and pouring the resulting power into banks of Eternity Battery storage cells for later use.
Every HoloScreen on Orth displayed an image of the SpaceShip for the citizens to marvel at and every child in the waiting crowd had been given a small replica of it to play with. Right now it floated far from casual sight, moored alongside Trinity Space Station high overhead. Masterfully designed in the workrooms of Unity then cleverly crafted piece by piece in the settlements before being freighted back to Unity, checked over and carried aloft in sections for final assembly, the vehicle was only operable in the environment for which it was designed; the tenuous medium of near space and beyond. Only the Shuttle, used to carry the chosen crew safely to and from the SpaceShip, would be on display today. It had been set on a wheeled platform and pulled by a motorised mover from the Space Port to the edge of the city where because its size prevented it from taking the same route as the rest of the procession it presently waited until the time came for it to be towed by chasers straight up Space Avenue and into the square. At precisely midday the procession began.
Angela and Jennifer sat next to each other together with the rest of their MLI class on the north east side of the Square just round the corner from the Space Avenue holding the small bright Unity flags that everyone had been given ready to wave at the appropriate time. The increasing sounds of music and cheering that marked the passage of procession as it approached, created ripples of excitement among the waiting citizens around them. Some of those seated opposite, who could see what was coming up the Avenue toward them, were already madly waving their flags and cheering.
“It's not fair!” said Jennifer pouting enviously. “They've got the best view over there!” She wriggled around stretching sideways in the vain hope that she too might see what they could, only to slump back in disappointment. “How do you stay so calm?” she asked Angela who sat primly upright beside her. “You don't look a bit excited!”
“Of course I am,” said Angela flatly.
“Doesn't sound much like it to me! This is the greatest show on Orth you know!”
“I know.”
“Anybody would think you don't care about who's been chosen for the Mission.”
“That's because I already know who's going.”
“Don't be silly,” said Jennifer. “How can you? Nobody knows. It's a secret.”
“Well I know.”
“Well I don't believe you.”
“Believe what you like. It makes no difference.”
For a few moments Jennifer stared intently at Angela who sat coolly unconcerned looking straight ahead.
“How do you know?”
“I worked it out,” replied Angela. “It's obvious.”
“Obvious?”
“Of course.” Angela turned to face Jennifer. “First off, none of the older graduate pilots from earlier years volunteered to go.”
“Why not?”
“Because they're past the age of youthful risk taking and owning Space Academy merits means that they have positions as Brothers and Sisters in charge of things. Which makes them the best catches for socially ambitious girls so they're all already married and in spite of the reassurances regarding Spaceship safety, spouses don't want their partners to either disappear forever or return with damaged Mems.”
“That still leaves all the crews from last year.”
“Right,” said Angela, “and most of them decided for any number of reasons that they were unable to volunteer.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Well I don't know everyone's reason why but I do know some. Take Hassim for instance. He's from crew seven and although he was keen to go, he's newly engaged and his future wife doesn't want him to leave her. That's why he didn't volunteer, and the other two from his crew couldn't go without him, so they didn't put their names in. And then there's crew four. They all volunteered, but they lost their way in The Big Empty on the survival test which ruined any chance they might have had of being chosen, so they were asked to withdraw. If they were able to lose their way here on Orth just think what might happen to them on an unmapped unknown planet! Crew five has Roger and Wang in it and they didn't volunteer because they both got space sick in the simulator. Made a real mess of it they did, which was pretty nasty for JJ. She had no desire to volunteer to go space travelling anywhere with them after that. Jan and Zeta are in crew two and they both failed the spatial orientation test by losing any sense they may have started off with. As for Brian from crew ten, his mother kicked up a terrible fuss when the call went out and he told her he was intending to offer his services. 'No! No! Please don't do it my son!' she pleaded, and she cried, and sobbed, and clung to him. It was a totally pathetic performance!” Angela shook her head sadly. “So that's five crews out of the running right there, and the rest of them are much the same. It only takes one of the three in a crew to decide against volunteering and they're all out.”
Jennifer felt a little envious of such detailed knowledge. “Where'd you hear all that stuff?” she asked.
“A little bit here and another scrap there. I can't help but put it all the gossip together and that's how I know.”
“Oh. Well do you know how many crews did volunteer?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well?”
“Only one.”
“Only one?” said Jennifer, somewhat surprised. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “Then it must be the crew your kin brother Peter, the Space Cadet of the year is in, right?”
Then Delivery Services arrived with two towed floats carrying rows of Spensers, one for rations and the other for squbes. They played merry jingles as they crept past, allowing time for a host of colourfully costumed attendants to hand out samples of mini KKs in a variety of delicious flavours and squbes filled with a sparkling clear blue liquid. 'As will be Supplied to the Mission Crew' read the banner on the KK float, and 'Guaranteed to Quench the Thirst of the Chosen' on the one dispensing squbes. Everybody in the audience gratefully received a sample of both for their refreshment and having thus been rendered somewhat quieter with their hands and mouths full, they settled down in their seats ready to enjoy the rest of the passing parade. Angela sipped on her sqube as she was rather thirsty, but offered her KK to Jennifer who had already devoured her own sample.
“Are you sure you don't want it?” Jennifer asked. “It really is scrumptious.”
“I'm not hungry,” Angela replied.
“Why then thank you Angela. It's a sin to waste good rations.”
Representative displays from the Quarters of Unity now began entering the Square. First came the East Quarter musicians, some playing on shrill sounding pipes and whistles synchronised with the sounds of the bells rung by others. Engineering skills were their Quarter's contribution to the Mission, and the Brothers and Sisters involved marched ahead of a float holding a fine example of their work, an ingenious machine of bewildering intricacy constructed of multiple tubes of different diameters fitted together at variably angled joints and studded with valves that opened and closed to a predetermined order so as to emit regular toots in time with the music. It needed no towing as it rolled past under its own power.
There was a short gap before North Quarter's musicians followed on in. They carried an assortment of drums of every conceivable size and shape, which they beat in a series of syncopated rhythms. A troop of dancers dressed in a fluttering rainbow of robes came whirling and dancing behind, each one holding two globular brightly decorated containers filled with small hard objects which they rhythmically shook by the handles fitted to them. The Brothers and Sisters waved as they strolled along in front of a chaser towed float bearing a model of the SpaceShip, complete and exact in every tiny detail. North Quarter supplied the best fabricators in Unity.
The West Quarter's musicians who came next, carried square boxes strung from their shoulders by strong straps, and as they marched their fingers lightly pressed upon the rows of coloured discs set on the sides of their cubes. The incredible range of musical patterns they produced, mingled and combined so as to become woven into one harmonious whole. Their Brothers and Sisters paced with dignified steps before a towed float carrying a replica of the newest generation in communication devices, identical to the one installed in the SpaceShip. It was a great krystal ball suspended between four slender curving supports, lit by the bright coloured flickering of myriad mysterious signals packed with vital information that continuously danced about in its interior. By this time the first sections of the procession had completed their grand tour round the Square and were lined up quietly facing the South Quarters Administration pyramid Tower in front of which a raised podium with banners from the four Quarters of Unity draped tastefully around its base had been erected.
There was a considerable gap before the last section completed its journey up Space Avenue and entered the Square. Not until the West Quarter's representatives stood still and silent did the waiting citizens become fully aware of the regular echoing booming sound produced by the synchronised beating of drums together with the pounding of booted feet striking the hard paved ground in perfect unison. The standard bearer marched in first, carrying the flag of Unity on a tall pole, followed by a squadron of twenty drummers ahead of the perfectly aligned ranks of the Space Academy Pilots and their Brother and Sister instructors all wearing sky blue uniforms with well polished badges of merit glittering on their chests and gleaming gold helmets with a wing at each side on their heads. The three Elders from the Administration pyramid in the South Quarter entered directly behind riding in chasers decorated with the symbols of Unity, rectangles, triangles, circles and squares, picked out in rainbows of flashing lights, with a phalanx of associated Brother and Sister officials following in their wake.
The last and largest float in the procession to enter the Square held the Shuttle. Ten chasers manned by hard working pedallers towed it in, and the crowd, awed by its smooth sleek lustrous surface sparkling with a radiant splendour such as none had ever Memmed before, gaped in silence at the sight. Once the Shuttle had been carefully manoeuvred directly into its designated spot in front of the podium where it would stay on display for the remainder of the SpringFest, the pedallers unhooked the tow ropes and rode away to in an area reserved for them at the back where they could rest from their labour. Simultaneously, the last of the marchers completed their rounding of the Square and came to a halt in their places behind the Shuttle. This was the signal for the three Elders and every Brother and Sister in the parade important enough to warrant a position to make their way across to the access steps, climb up and take their assigned seats on the podium. It was time for the ceremony to begin.
Each one of the Brothers and Sisters had to give a speech in honour of this auspicious occasion and most of the citizens, knowing this to be a necessary part of the procedure, managed to contain their impatience. There were however, some exceptions, one of them being Jennifer. As yet another official gave prolonged thanks to all those involved in the building of the SpaceShip and the Shuttle, the Mem training and resulting excellence of the Pilots, the magnificence of the parade, and anything else they deemed worthy of mentioning, she stopped her restless fiddling with the flag she still held and leaned close to whisper in Angela's ear.
“Please, please, tell me now which crew is going?”
Angela held up four fingers from one hand and two from the other as indication of the number six. As she did so Jennifer noticed a single tear rolling down her cheek and thought to comfort her.
“Never mind,” she said softly, gently patting Angela's arm. “I think it's a real shame that Peter's not going, too.”
Which was exactly how Angela felt about it. When it came time to volunteer Wang and Branco hadn't bothered about it because Peter didn't want to go. He was in love with Stella and she with him, which Angela considered as a good thing in one way because Alf had fancied Stella until quite recently, much to Angela's annoyance. Ever since she was a child Angela had made up stories to herself of the day when Alf would suddenly realise that she was the right girl for him, and then they would be married and later, when permitted, have children together. Sadly, as far as Angela was concerned, it had never happened, and now Alf's failed romance with Stella meant that he and his crew were the only qualified pilots to volunteer their services for the Mission. Angela had so hoped that any crew other then Alf's would disappear off into space, but it was not to be.
Angela sighed with resignation as she wiped away the tear and mentally added the infantile fantasy to her ever lengthening list of life's lessons learned.
Max Time 1.3.05
One week after the parade, details vital for the success of the Mission were given to the three crew members in the Briefing Room set up for the purpose in one of the South Quarter pyramids. It had been a disquieting ten days for two of them. On the day following the official announcement of their selection, Chan had become embroiled in a matter which at first threatened to prevent her from taking any part in the venture. Her arranged marriage with Lee became a problem after his parents petitioned the Elders for Chan's release from the Mission on the grounds that prior promises had been made, and that to break them would undermine the traditional values currently held by the citizens of the West Quarter. Chan herself, when questioned, requested that the wedding be postponed and after some deliberation the Elders made their decision in her favour stating, 'We have determined, that as the marital arrangement was not initially instigated by the two citizens concerned, Chan's personal preferences must be allowed to take precedence over custom.' They therefore ordered that she be temporarily excused from the marriage until her return. 'At which point' the Elders concluded, 'the matter will then be reviewed.'
For BB it was Holly's floods of tears at the realisation of his imminent departure that threatened to spoil his justifiably excited anticipation of the part he would be playing in the adventure. He employed much intensive soothing and comforting in his efforts to calm her down, but it was not until he accepted the Hologram which she had had specially copied from the original taken in the booth at the Fest, along with an accompanying promise that he would always keep it with him, that Holly returned to her usual talkative self.
Right now though, those difficulties were in the past. When they reached the Briefing Room door it recognised the three by their Wristos, and after having opened to allow them to enter, it then closed and locked itself behind them. The room was just large enough for the HoloScreen at one end, and the three seats arranged before it. As they sat down, the word 'CAUTION' written in large attention grabbing scarlet letters flashed several times on HoloScreen. It was followed by a further warning, the writing smaller but of the same bright colour. 'To be viewed by authorised Missionaries only.' For a few moments the words hung there before they too vanished, and the image of an adult male vaguely resembling Earnest Messenger appeared.
“Greetings,” he said giving a genial smile. “Welcome to the Briefing Room. I am your information officer, and my full name is Manuel Maxwell Messenger the Fourth, although you may refer to me as M4.”
Politely the Missionaries acknowledged his offer.
“Thank you sir,” they said.
“That's quite all right,” M4 generously affirmed. “Today it is my task to inform you of the reasons for the Mission.”
“Excuse me sir,” Alf interrupted, “but is one of the the reasons for the Mission something to do with the search for intelligent life?”
“Ah yes, the eternal search for intelligent life,” M4 nodded and as he continued speaking a series of images in illustration of his words appeared behind him. “It is a fact that the universe is teeming with billions of bright sparks,” a picture of a dark night sky lit with countless twinkling stars, “for the probes we sent out have found them in immeasurable numbers. And no doubt life, such as you hopefully enjoy, is a predominant factor where ever conditions allow. As to its perceivable intelligence, that is a value judgement no reasonable entity would ever dare make. However, theory says that when the seeds of probability were scattered throughout the cosmos,” he gestured expansively as showers of microscopic matter whirled about, “no part was passed over without a deposit. You yourselves are but a small sample of what lies throughout. Which, by the way, concurs with the supposition of Genetic Universal Dispersal.”
Chan was astonished by this revelation. “You mean that GUD may exist sir?”
“Perhaps. The finding is not proof but it does give support to a legend from the past. You see, once upon a time, long long ago, a single empire united this entire universe.”
The extent of the empire, marked by a ring of gold encircling multitudes of glittering stars, appeared.
“Where's Orth please sir?” asked Alf.
“Down in the left hand corner,” replied M4. “The Universal Emperor was wise and justice prevailed, so none of his subject population had reasonable cause for complaint against him.” The HoloScreen showed him, regally garbed and golden crowned standing majestically tall on a high balcony waving to an adoring crowd gathered below. “Unfortunately however, the perceived pleasure of a peaceful rule had blinded him to the dangers of others avarice and deafened him to any hints of disloyalty. His assassination was a shock to most, but no surprise to some.”
“Who would do such a terrible thing sir?” said BB, as they watched the funeral cortege pass slowly through the streets of a great city, lined with weeping citizens.
“Who knows?” M4 shrugged his shoulders. “The killer is commonly one who benefits most from the deed, and there were many amongst those closest to him who fit the profile. The point of the story though, is that his death marked the end of a singular empire. Subsequently it split up into a number of factions, all promoting their own systems of governance and all headed by a wide variety of leaders ranging from the cruelly despotic to the weakly benign. Long drawn out wars based on believed rightness of causes and vengeance for perceived wrongs ensued, escalating until the entire` region became involved. Sides were chosen then rejected, lines of division drawn and redrawn, and countless old grievances dragged up in the name of justifiable retaliation, all of which damaged the integrity of the universe beyond repair.” The stars on the screen drifted apart. “Untrusting of each other and unwilling to cross the void between them, all contact was lost along with the ability to travel through the vast reaches of space, until it became nothing but a dream, a fantasy from the legendary long ago.”
Alf said, “I wonder why we haven't been told this tale before sir?”
“Its an old legend of questionable significance which predates the story of the Ark and it's not part of our history because it refers to a time before Mems were invented, and as you know, only officially recognised Mems can ever be regarded as authentic. Anything else would without doubt confuse the cognition and cloud the comprehension. Our educators hope that the Mem you three return with will go some way toward giving the people of Orth a measure of genuine enlightenment and perhaps offer some support to the theory of GUD.” M4 smiled happily at them from the screen. “This is the latest image of your destination recorded and relayed back by our probe,” he continued as a partly night-shadowed, slowly revolving, delicate blue and white coloured ball popped up alongside him. The viewers could just see how its predominant tint was the result of only minor land masses balanced against a preponderance of great oceans washing endlessly round the globe, beneath a heavily clouded atmosphere. “The inhabitants call their planet Terra.”
BB was quite concerned at hearing this. “Terror sir? That doesn't sound like the sort of place anyone should go to.”
M4 chuckled. “No need to worry. Terra spelt T E R R A is an ancient word meaning earth. There is a planet called T E R R O R but nobody in their right mind would ever go there.”
“I should think not M4 sir,” agreed Chan.
“I presume then, that the clouds of vapour we can see aren't noxious sir,” said BB.
“Terran clouds consist of H2O,” replied M4, “of which it has an ample supply. In fact, seven parts of the Terran surface is liquid water and only one part solid ground. Undoubtedly it would make for less confusion, and be more correct, if the people called their planet Aqua.”
The three Missionaries smiled and nodded in agreement.
“So the atmosphere is completely safe for us to breath sir?” asked Alf.
“Samples taken by the probe show it to be remarkably similar to that of Orth, and relatively free of any lethal pathogens, chemicals or dangerous biological substances that might be harmful to your continuing good health. Merely a little more humidity then you're accustomed to.”
“And radiation levels sir?”
“No excessive radiation detectable.”
“Is there any actual physical danger at all sir?” Chan asked. “I would prefer some reassurance that we're not going to be attacked by monsters or assaulted by stupidly brutal Terrans when we get there. I once saw some aliens in Space Rangers who were intent on devouring every living other!”
M4 smiled. “Rest assured. Although the life forms on Terra have undoubtedly followed their own evolutionary path ever since the disruption it appears that carbon base life forms such as your own and that of Terra are limited by habitat in their development meaning that apart from some minor diversions there no nasty surprises of that sort so far as we are aware. However, your safety is important and a means of protecting yourselves against the unexpected may come in handy. Therefore you will be equipped with, and fully instructed in the care, maintenance and defensive use of Dazers before you leave.”
BB suddenly recalled the words of the Wizard in the Futures stall regarding shooting and feeling a small shiver of apprehension run down his spine, immediately resolved to never aim any weapon at anyone. Ever.
But Chan smiled and said, “Thank you sir. I'm sure that having Dazer defensive capability makes us all feel much better.”
“It certainly does sir,” agreed Alf.
BB remained silent.
M4 smiled again. “We're pleased to hear it. Now, I must draw your attention to another task we have for you.”
“If it's not intelligent life we're searching for sir, then is it some sign of our origins we'll be looking for?“ asked Alf.
“Not quite. Although your return with Mem is important in that it may further our origin theories of a GUD beginning, there is also something else we wish you to return with, something of even greater value which will hopefully make good a looming deficit here on Orth. You see, for quite some time now there has been a growing concern regarding the continuing supply of an important product, the lack of which, if not remedied, will irrevocably damage the quality of the life enjoyed on Orth.” M4's lowered tone underlined the seriousness of his next words. “No doubt you have noticed a shortage of oranges lately?”
“I certainly have. It's because the yields have been dropping recently sir,” replied Alf.
“They certainly have. And the reason for it is that our orchard trees are well past their productive prime and it's becoming increasingly difficult to propagate new young ones to take their place. Our horticultural experts have done their best in the struggle to maintain supplies against tremendous odds and it's to their credit that they've managed so well over the years. Now though it seems that our orange genome is losing it's viability.”
BB looked puzzled. “Can't it be regenerated by the insertion of other suitable genetic matter sir?”
“Certainly. Trouble is that there's none available here on Orth. Any other varieties, and records show that there were many conceived from our two original orange species, have become extinct over time. Which means that it's now quite possible that we may lose our oranges altogether!”
Alf was quite upset at this news. “Even though I've worked in the orchards for years, I had no idea it was even remotely probable. That's dreadful sir!”
Chan was equally concerned. “What! No oranges! Why they're the source of all our energy, that sweet golden orb from the orange tree!” Her words were those of a song Mem learned by every small child on Orth.
“They surely are,” M4 agreed. “The very fabric of civilisation as we know it, is based on the steady supply of citrus. Without oranges squbes could not be flavoured, maidens could not show their carving skills, and as for the annual WinterFest . . .!”
“It'd rob the seasonal celebration of all meaning sir!” Alf soberly observed.
“Exactly. It's a recipe for social unrest, and the probable destruction of all those traditions and customs that make our society what it is today. Therefore, the prospect of a total loss of oranges must be kept quite secret. Spreading alarm amongst the people at this point in time will do no good. In fact, it may well do harm!”
“I think we understand sir,” said Alf. “ Why, the very stability of Orth depends upon it!”
“It certainly does sir,” added Chan solemnly, and BB nodded his agreement.
“Your task, while on the Mission, is to find and return to Orth with the seedy oranges needed for regeneration,” said M4.
“I didn't know oranges had seeds,” BB remarked thoughtfully, mindful of the words of the Wizard again.
“The ancient varieties from which our present day fruit are derived certainly did. Unfortunately the past ability to produce seeds was lost due to selective breeding practices which eliminated them. It was commonly believed that accidentally swallowing them could cause everything from indigestion and internal blockages, to having orange trees growing out from ones ears! Besides, nobody wanted inedible seeds. Oranges without seeds or pips as they are sometimes called were preferred. Getting the pip could be a real annoyance.”
“Understandable sir,” agreed Chan. “I wouldn't want to buy food I couldn't eat either.”
“Are seedy oranges readily obtainable on Terra sir?” asked Alf.
“Reliable information regarding their availability has been received. They grow easily where the climate allows and Terra is richly endowed with suitable conditions, so you should have no problem finding the fruit we need. To help you on your quest, you will each be fitted with Universal Language Translators and new not quite so obvious Mem. Further details concerning the Mission have been compiled and are available on the BR HS, filed under What Happens Next. To gain access simply enter the code FMEO, meaning For Missionaries Eyes Only, on your Wristos.
Finally, I'm sure you'll be pleased to here that the Shuttle and the SpaceShip have been designed so as to allow for a passenger to accompany you, someone whose personal experience will be of invaluable assistance during your mission.” Raising his voice M4 called out “Please come in now.”
The door opened and Brother Reth entered.
“Well friends, we meet again,” he said. “How remarkably strange fate can be for I couldn't have wished for a better crew than that of yours, my friends, to carry me home to Terra.”
Max Time 71.4.05
Before leaving on the Mission, Chan, BB and Alf met with Reth in the Briefing Room on several occasions to practice talking in his native tongue with him and listen to his tales of Terra in the hope that they might gain further intelligence on what to expect when they got there. On the last of these meetings he was seated waiting when they entered and the three regarded him with some surprise.
“Your Mem has gone sir!” said Alf as they sat down.
The Orthians own Mem had been reduced in size until they were almost unnoticeable, merely a tiny white mark resembling a crescent moon on their foreheads. Image was important and the Mission organisers felt it would be undesirable for them to appear too obviously different, but it was not until they saw Reth bare faced and subsequently no longer a Brother, that they realised how strange the absolute lack of Mem looked.
“And glad to be rid of it too,” Reth replied touching the vacant space on his forehead. “I've never been comfortable with having everything I do recorded for anybody to see whenever they want to. It's an invasion of privacy.”
“What ever do you mean sir?” said Chan. “Is there something you feel you have a need to conceal?”
“It's not a matter of needing to conceal anything.”
“Then I don't understand sir. If you have nothing to hide, why do you say Mems invade your privacy?”
“Forget it,” said Reth. “Let's just talk about Terra.”
“But that's just the point sir,” Chan carefully explained. “Having Mem means we never forget.”
Reth gave a faint sigh of resignation. “Perhaps we should begin again.”
“Very well sir,” said Alf. “First off we want to thank you for all the information you've already given us about Terra.”
“We do indeed sir,” added BB.
“All three of us sir,” said Chan.
“You've allayed our initial fears of an antagonistic reception sir, and we certainly appreciate your information regarding an area where we may land safely, as well as your offer to lead us to an orchard where oranges are readily available,” said Alf.
“We've also been informed by the Elders that when on Terra we should never divulge Orths exact whereabouts,” said Chan, “and that you have been asked to do the same.”
“Yes that's right. The Elders extracted a promise from me not to say where Orth is in exchange for being returned to where I came from, and the deal has been sweetened with a purse full of tokens for me to take home.”
“And can you be trusted to keep your promise sir?” asked Chan.
“None of you need worry about that. Your poor planet has nothing Terra would want! Why, Orth's a barren desert for the most part, with few resources of any value. The gold you use for your tokens is the only thing we might conceivably want but there's hardly enough of it here to make the costs of extraction over such a vast distance economically viable! So relax. I reckon Orth's pretty safe from FWU exploitation, even if we had the means to reach here within a reasonable length of time.”
“Which you don't, do you sir,” said Chan.
“No. Your X Drive is way beyond Terran technology.”
“And we'd know who to blame if it ever suddenly came to be otherwise, wouldn't we sir,” Chan pointed out.
“That too,” Reth acknowledged with a shrug, “although personally I don't actually understand how it works. Your version of power gathering and battery storage technology is totally alien to what we use on Terra, which means that it would be incompatible with our system, just like Sheila my computer who was voided. Believe you me, all I want to do is to go home.”
“Good,” said Chan. “It pleases us that we can do that for you sir.”
“This is our final session here together sir,”said BB, “and we rather wondered if you might spend it telling us something of what your life was like growing up on Terra.”
“I didn't think you'd find it interesting.”
“Of course it is sir. Every scrap of information is invaluable.”
“Fine. Seeing as you've asked, and this is as you say the last time we'll be meeting here, why not.” Reth settled himself down a little more comfortably in his chair and began. “I grew up on my Dad's farm at the foot of the Radikal Ranges.”
“Your father owns a farm sir? Then he must be one of the rich property owners you told us about,” said Alf.
“Not really. Dad fought in one of the wars and when it was over he was demobbed and rewarded for doing his duty with the offer of a bit of land to make a living from. He didn't own it right off, but if he worked hard on improving the property he had the option of buying it at a reasonable price after a few years. So that's what he's doing.”
“I really think that claiming ownership of the ground beneath your feet is foolish sir,” stated Chan. “It's a sure way of starting arguments.”
“There's a whole lot of ways of starting arguments,” observed Reth dryly, “and I reckon you're shaping up to be expert at them.”
“Was the war your Dad fought in caused by an argument sir?” asked Alf.
“It was over even before I was born so I don't exactly remember. They mostly taught us about the great battles that took place in it when we I was school. And there's plenty of reasons for wars you know.”
“Are there sir?”
“Of course. There's reasons like fairness, and truth, and justice, and maintaining the FWU way of life. They're all things worth fighting for.”
“What about peace sir?” asked Chan. “Isn't it important in the FWU?”
“Of course it is. That's why we have an army. To keep the peace.”
“We have no army here on Orth sir, yet it's perfectly peaceful.”
“But you do have EMPs.”
“They're not the same thing sir and you know it. The reason we don't have an army is because we don't have wars.”
“And that's because of universal balances. The peace of Orth merely confirms the rule which says that for every case where war is the norm, there must be an opposite where it isn't.”
“That, sir, is a ridiculous rule.”
Reth stared at Chan for a moment his face empty of expression before saying, “I think we're getting a little bit side tracked here again.”
“Yes sir, we are,” agreed BB with a warning frown in Chan's direction. “Tell us all about your fathers farm please sir.”
“Very well. On Terra, returned servicemen often end up working the land like my Dad. He always says 'I got two things from the war. The good thing is this farm, and the bad one is this damned contraption.' You see they gave Dad a cybernetic leg after his own one was blown off during a battle, and it gives him a lot of trouble when the weather's wet, which is most of the time. Rains a fair bit where we live, which means plenty of pumping to get rid of the excess. Otherwise the cows would be up to their udders in water!” Reth laughed at the vision.
“It's an animal farm then is it sir?” asked Alf.
“It's a dairy farm. Five hundred head of genetically modified cows with six tits each to pull the juice from twice a day.”
“Juice sir?”
“Milk! Fresh, foaming, creamy, moo juice. Millions of squbes of it.”
“Disgusting!” said Chan. “The stealing of mothers milk from differing species of herbivorous mammals for self consumption, can only be regarded as exploitation of the defenceless sir.” This was a commonly held opinion on Orth where there were no mammals to steal from.
Reth shook his head sadly. “Don't show your ignorance. If Terran farmers hadn't taken such good care of their cows they would most likely have become extinct as a species a very long time ago. And that's an undeniable fact.”
“What about the milk sir?” BB hastily interrupted before Chan could say anything. “What happens to it?”
“It's stored in chilled vats on the farm and picked up by huge tanker trucks to be taken to factories where what's not processed for drinking purposes is made into a variety of things, such as all sorts of tasty cheeses and yoghurts and ice-cream in hundreds of different flavours,” Reth replied. “Chocolate's my favourite, and I'm really looking forward to having a big serving of triple choc' ice cream when I get back.”
“One of our old stories mentions ice-cream sir,” said Alf. “It said it was made of cold animal fat mixed with sugar, chemical preservatives and additives to give it taste and prevent it from going rancid too fast. It doesn't sound at all appealing.”
“You only say that because you've never had any. Just wait until we get to Terra and you try it. You're sure to ask for more.”
“Alf might well be tempted to do as you say sir,” Chan said primly. “Sugar is a highly addictive substance guaranteed to set up a craving for more.”
Reth ignored her comment.
“Your Dad must work very hard pulling the juice from all those cows sir,” said BB.
“He doesn't do it on his own. He uses automatic milking machines and a couple of Andy farm hands to help him.”
“Are those the robots you told us about that are made to appear like men sir?” asked Alf.
“That's right. According to Dad they're flamin' unhandy Andys when they break down, which is too often for his liking, and using them has robbed humans of their right to a decent living. Bit of an old fashioned radical Dad is, so he's basically against having any Andys. Except that it's the only way to get the job done without having to pay out a fortune in farm hand wages. Mind you we don't have a complete Andy system because Dad can't afford it. All the pumping costs, and the Nuseed and Nufertilizer needed to keep the farm in top production have to be paid for too. And then there's the mortgage and the overdraft. Dad had to borrow money from The Bank to pay for the land. ‘I owe them and they own me' is how he puts it. He holds the purse strings pretty tight because it easy to lose the family farm if you're not careful. Small holdings are often swallowed up by huge combines and used for Perfegene Production with Andys doing all the work.”
“Cows in our old stories have wickedly sharp horns on their massive heads and great hooves that might kill a person if they were struck by them,” said Alf. “Is that what your cows are like sir?”
Reth laughed, “Hal no! Cows used to have horns and only four tits until they were modified. And they're mostly quiet and docile enough to stand still while they're milked otherwise we couldn't use them. Occasionally though, they can kick. I remember once when one particular newly calved heifer, that's a young cow, came in to be milked for the first time. I was out there watching Dad supervising the Andys when they tried to yard her and she just went wild! Lashed out with both back hooves and caught Dad a beauty! You should've heard Dad swear! Nearly broke his good leg, she did and when they finally got her bailed up in the shed, which took a good half hour to do, the milker Andy couldn't put the cups on her. Smashed its sensors she did, so Dad swore again said she was bloody useless and sent her off to the abattoir. We got her back cut up and packed ready for Mum to store in the freezer. Beautiful sweet and tender she was when Mum cooked her up.”
Alf's eyes widened. “You ate her sir?”
“We certainly did. Why else would Hal have made cows if they weren't for us to make god use of.”
“Hal? Who's Hal please sir?”
“The Prime Creator. He that made everything.”
“Everything sir?”
“That's what I said. Absolutely every single thing. All that exists is His wondrous creation. Hal made it all.”
For just a moment, the three Orthians stared at Reth in silence.
BB was the first to speak “Including you yourself sir?” he asked.
“The original man same as me, yes. You see at first Hal was all alone, a singularity so to speak, but it was a lonely existence so He decided to create a companion for Himself, a bloke exactly like Him for the serious discussion of important matters on a man to man basis. First off though, because the man wasn't an immortal like Himself Hal had to create a garden, a place where the man could find shelter and things to eat.”
“Excuse me sir,” interrupted Chan, “but did Hal also make a female for him?”
“Why yes, as a matter of fact he did. You've heard of Hal then?”
“He has many names sir, and we've all heard that story or a very similar version of it before,” Chan said loftily. “It's a typical self complacent myth supportive of a patriarchal culture used by unscrupulous males in backward societies to give credence to their assumed positions of power.”
Reth bent his head to cover his face with both hands while muttering something under his breath that the Orthians couldn't quite catch. A moment later he straightened up and after giving a thin tight smile continued on saying “Yes, being a considerate sort of bloke Hal did indeed make a woman for the man as well as the beautiful garden full of good things to eat. After all, what would be the point of creating such a marvel as we men are without supplying us with all the comforts of life such as women to have a bit of fun with while satisfying our manly urges if we feel so inclined and cows and sheep and other edibles so that we can enjoy a good steak or chop when we want one?”
“Sounds reasonable I suppose when you put it like that sir,” said Alf a little dubiously.
Chan said firmly, “Hal is obviously just another fictional father figure sir.”
“Hal exists,” countered Reth. “The writings in His Book tell of Him and it's Gospel so it must be true.”
“There are many tales of creation sir and they come from many sources. The story of Hal may be written down but that doesn't mean it's true.”
“And I suppose you with your Mems know the truth of how everything was created then.”
“No sir. Our Mems don't go back far enough for that. However, I'm quite sure I could make up a fairer tale then the load of toxic waste you've just told us.”
“It's not toxic waste and I didn't make it up.”
“I didn't say you did sir. Someone else fashioned the comforting fantasy of male superiority and you're either foolish or vain enough to believe it. Just because you want it to be, doesn't make it so.”
“There's a whole lot of other Terrans who believe it too. We can't all be wrong.”
Chan laughed derisively. “Do they also believe that small white furry animals lay sweet chocolate eggs wrapped in coloured metal foil sir?”
“That's just a story for children.”
“Then it must be jolly green giants they believe in sir. Or wicked witches and good fairies.”
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“Well then sir, how about a fat man in a red suit who climbs down home ventilator shafts in the middle of one special night of the year to give gifts to those who've been good?”
“Of course not stupid!” retorted Reth contemptuously. “If a fat or even a thin man for that matter invaded homes in the middle of the night he'd most likely get himself shot for trespass! You've muddled it up with the special time of the year when gifts are bought and exchanged so as to remind people of the pleasure of giving. All Hal's believers do it in honour of His Ineffable Generosity.”
“Did His Ineffable Generosity give your Dad his cows then sir?” asked BB.
“Not exactly. Hal certainly supplied the originals, but same as all dairy farmers, my Dad had to purchase his first herd from a breeder specialising in genetically altered stock that produce milk all year round. And he buys all the replacement heifers from the same source. In the old days farmers used to breed their own because cows had to have a calf every year in order to give milk. But it was totally uneconomic feeding cows expensive fodder and paying for supposed heifer factor semen from top bulls only to have the silly cows throwing useless bull calves that aren't worth selling, even for meat! They use a different breed of cattle for that, farmers do. One that puts on the poundage with a bit of help from known muscle making practices like growth injections and having their balls cut off when they're young.”
Alf grimaced painfully. “You mean they remove the baby bulls testicles sir?”
“That's right. They cut them off during the annual branding round up and grill them over the iron heating fire as a special treat. Splash of sauce and they're reckoned to be spot on.”
“You've not eaten balls yourself then sir?”
“No. Farmers don't do that much of the branding like that any more. We don't at any rate. Embedded ID chips are a much better way of keeping track of cows then burning info onto their hides. Besides, ours is only a dairy farm so we don't keep bulls. And their balls are called prairie oysters for eating purposes.”
“Talking about balls sir,” said Chan, “if Hal made the original man exactly like Himself, does He have any?”
“What are you blathering on about now?”
“You said that men are made like Him sir, and they have balls so does Hal have any?”
“Of course not. Hal has no need of anything like that for creative purposes.”
“He is a male isn't He sir?”
“Hal is referred to as our Father but He has no interest in gross bodily functions.”
Chan frowned. “I still don't understand it sir. Why didn't Hal create both balls and a woman for Himself so as to have a bit of fun during His creation?”
“Probably because some women can be so friggin' annoying,” Reth snapped back.
“Why would Hal create an annoying woman sir? Surely He'd make her as pleasing as He possibly could.”
“Obviously because once a thing's been created it's subsequent actions are out of His hands. Like the original woman He made. She was beautiful but disobedient so it was her fault that Hal evicted both her and the man from the beautiful garden.”
“You mean the story of her giving the man forbidden fruit to eat sir?”
“That's right. She tempted the man with it and they ate the fruit even though Hal had told them not to. And after eating it they knew they were naked, and they covered up their sex with leaves. Which made what they'd done pretty obvious to Hal, so He ordered them out and told them to go away and continue to multiply in sin and suffering.”
“I'd be suspicious of any character giving orders like that sir,” Chan said. “He must have known that calling sex sinful and threatening them with suffering would hardly stop them from multiplying. Giving emotively motivated creatures who have no clearly defined active sex season the ability to procreate at will without any directions as to when and how to stop production apart from rubbish like that, is sure to grow into something of a problem.”
“Why didn't he instruct them in basic population management sir?” asked Alf.
“I don't know.” Reth shrugged. “I mean, why would it be necessary? On Terra we've never regarded unlimited procreation as a problem. More people equals customer growth, and that's good news for the economy.”
“Perhaps Hal has an ulterior motive sir,” said Chan.
Reth was puzzled by this remark. “What do you mean?”
“Has it never been considered by Terrans that once they've multiplied and become extra plentiful that Hal will emerge from where ever He's hiding and take the excess off for Himself. Hal could be a cannibal, the prime consumer of His own creations!”
Reth jumped to his feet. “That's it! I've had enough of your stupid friggin' heathen shit!” His tone was sharp, his words indicative of the righteous indignation he obviously felt. “Hal is the epitome of all that is pure and perfect,” he articulated slowly and carefully, “and why you apparently seem to derive some sort of perverse joy out of talking like that about Him is beyond me. If you want to survive on Terra you'd better learn to keep your friggin' mouth shut!”
BB stood up to lay a soothing hand on Reth's shoulder. “Please don't be angry sir,” he said. “Chan didn't mean to to offend you. The Ogre of Uncontrolled Reproduction is a character in one of Orths children's stories. Apologise Chan.”
“Sorry sir,” she said.
“Sit down again now please sir,” said BB, and as Reth slowly did so BB sat down too. “I think it's time for another change of subject. Tell us about your family please sir. Do you have any siblings?” he asked.
Reth took a few minutes to recover before answering. “I've got three sisters, one older and two younger than me, and a twin brother. Jack's his name and he's younger by half an hour.”
“Is he a pilot too sir?”
“We have different interests, my brother and I. He's into commercial practice, absolutely loves it. After finishing High School Jack went to a Corporate Business College in Halzone City and studied Acquisition Management. Probably some important corporation's financial wizard by now. I always wanted to be a pilot so I studied Mathematics at Halzone College and took honours in Advanced Systems Analysis which is how I knew enough about programming skills when it came to Sheila. None of which was of any use here.”
“You'll be pleased to see the rest of your family again then sir,” said Alf.
“I'll be all of that! What I'm really looking forward to is my Mums cooking. Hers is the best! She can turn out the tastiest apple crumble ever, and as for her baked dinner! I remember we used to come home from our local Junior Temple School, we went to it once a week in the morning on Hal's Day of Worship, and she'd have it all ready for us. Potatoes crispy brown on the outside and fluffy white in the middle, plump round sweet green peas flavoured with fresh mint and the smell of the meat she'd roasted. Unbelievable! It was Dads job to carve it up, all tender and moist and juicy pink with mum's special gravy made from the drippings poured over the top. Delicious!”
Chan grimaced, pulling her mouth down at the corners in distaste. “Yuk!”
Reth ignored her.
“And the orange orchards are near your Dad's farm are they sir?” asked Alf.
“That's what I said. Massive they are, packed full of trees all tended by Andys. Orange juice and oils are used for flavouring JC among other things.”
“And the oranges have plenty of seeds in them sir?” asked BB.
“Some of them do yes. No reproduction without seeds is there?”
“I suppose you'll be happy to be back home with you wife too sir,” said Alf. “Do you intend to reproduce with her?”
“That's none of your business,” Reth retorted indignantly.
“Sorry sir. I meant no offence.”
Reth stared at Alf for a moment. “No I don't suppose you did,” he finally admitted. “You Orthians have no idea what privacy means do you. No, don't bother to answer. It was a rhetorical question. As a matter of fact the subject of ankle biters never came up between Beatrice and me. Funny you should ask about her though, because I was thinking of her earlier on and you know for the life of me I can't quite remember what she looks like. I know she's beautiful of course, with big blue eyes and curly red gold hair and the tiniest hands and feet all soft and delicate. And I can remember exactly how it felt when she smiled up at me, yet when I try to pin down the precise details of her features they somehow slip away from me.
Mind you I realise she'll have changed a bit because I've changed, I know. In fact I imagine a whole lot of things will probably be different.” Reth appeared to be lost in thought for a few moments. “Quite often when I sat in the O-Bar here on Orth,” he eventually said, “it put me in mind of the Central back home and I wondered if I'd ever see it again. It's the oldest, most popular watering hole in Halzone, been there over a hundred years, and it serves the best beer ever. I'm looking forward to a tall one of the ice cold that's for sure. Just wait until you try it. O-Bar squbes will never seem the same again.”
“Isn't beer a fermented alcoholic drink sir?” asked Chan.
“Of course. That's what gives it it's unique flavour.”
“Alcohol is an addictive toxic substance sir, useful as a fuel or a cleanser of impurities. It should never be orally imbibed except in small amounts for medicinal purposes only.”
“Too right! It's the best medicine out for real men!” Reth turned toward BB and Alf and spoke confidentially to them. “Another thing about Terra you two boys will be sure to appreciate is the girls. None of your smart arses lacking in respect there! To tell the truth I find the girls of Orth to be sadly lacking when it comes to both attitude and sex appeal which, as far as I'm concerned, makes them most unattractive. Terran girls are so much better mannered and easier on the eye if you know what I mean.”
“No sir I don't,” Alf said stiffly, understanding exactly what he meant but entirely disagreeing. He considered Stella, for example, to be extremely attractive.
Chan ignored the remark.
BB checked his Wristo. “Sorry to call a halt to this, but I have another Dazer lesson shortly and I don't want to be late. Shall we leave it at that sir?”
“Of course” Reth agreed.
Their final information gathering meeting was over.
Max Time 74.4.05
A farewell ceremony was held in the Space Academy hall on the eve of the crew's departure. All the important people, the Elders with their families and the First, Second and Third Class Brothers and Sisters with theirs, as well as all the Space Academy staff and students both past and present with their families plus all their relations and friends, and friends of friends, and anybody else who could legitimately lay claim to an invitation, were in attendance. The halls usually sombre walls and ceiling were decorated with bright strings of small flags representative of the four Quarters of the city, while a great banner with FAREWELL written on it in large letters hung above the stage at the far end where a band of musicians sat softly playing appropriate background tunes. White jacketed and gloved attendants served special farewell squbes and mini KKs from behind the tables furnished with Spensers set up on each long side of the room. The centre space was entirely taken up with the excited guests, all dressed in their best finery and chattering sociably to each other as they moved about enjoying the event. This was their only opportunity to speak personally with the travellers, and it seemed that everybody here wanted to wish the Orthians well on the Mission, and to tell Reth how fortunate it was for him that the expedition would be taking him going home.
Alf had lost touch with the others within the first few moments of the doors being opened and the guests crowding in. They pressed close around him, with the men wanting to congratulate him and the women to give him their best wishes while being officially Memmed standing next to him. Alf was quite sure he'd never met many of them but they all knew who he was even if he didn't know them. He had never been so popular and neither had BB or Chan or even Reth whom few had ever heard of before the recent news release of his part in the Mission, which was how it happened that they had all become separated.
Now Alf stood in the midst of the throng feeling quite warm and dizzy from the unaccustomed attention. Someone had thrust a sqube into one of his hands but he had barely had a chance for more then a couple of sips from it. As two more well wishers turned away from him intent on conversing with another of the travellers, Alf took advantage of the small hiatus left behind by their departure and tipping back his head he closed his eyes and took several deep, thirst quenching gulps from the sqube. Feeling some what refreshed after the drink, he opened his eyes again and there they were, Brother Don and Sister Maude. It was some time since he had seen them, mainly because his breaks from school term had all been spent in the orchard, and during his time at the Academy he had been so busy that he seldom managed to visit the Wrights in their apartment.
“Congratulations Alfred, I knew you could do it,” said Brother Don and he smiled with satisfaction at his foresight.
“Oh I'm so thrilled for you,” added Sister Maude her face flushed with pleasure. “Just think, you're going on a journey that no one's ever made before and when you return every detail of your Mems will be embodied in Orths official history. Why the viewing figures for the HoloScreen showing will be bigger then those for Regenesis, mark my words!” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and gazed up at Alf in open admiration.
Somehow her attitude made him slightly uncomfortable and he felt his neck redden with embarrassment.
“Only if he comes back down to Orth,” said a light feminine voice from behind Sister Maude.
Alf looked toward the source of the remark. A lovely young girl stepped forward dressed quite becomingly in the latest fashion, the Princess style. As she smiled at Alf her cheeks dimpled in the most engaging manner.
“Really Angela,” scolded Sister Maude turning crossly to frown at her daughter. “That remark was totally uncalled for.”
Alf stared in surprise at the vision before him. Of course it was Angela and suddenly he remembered her remark so long ago at the Yearsend WinterFest table about preferring a husband who stayed at home.
“Why Angela of course I'll be back,” he said recovering swiftly enough to smile down at her. “How could I not return when such attractive young ladies as yourself are here in Unity.”
Angela blushed. “And no doubt when you return as a great hero those same attractive young ladies will be well pleased to greet you,” she replied.
During the short conversation with Brother Don and Sister Maude that followed Alf was acutely aware of the incredible feeling of elation Angela's presence aroused in him. Shortly after she and her parents moved away, Peter and Stella arrived arm in arm, and it was while speaking with them that Alf suddenly realised the agonies of disappointment he had suffered in the past regarding Stella no longer mattered.
'Perhaps,' he thought to himself, 'it was just an infatuation bought on by my isolation from any other girl but her while working at the orchard.'
Much later in the evening, when the intense attention from the crowd had somewhat abated Alf managed to slip outside onto the nearby roof garden for a breath of cool night air. It was while he stood there, gazing up into the star studded darkness of Orth's night sky and thinking of what was to come that he felt a hand touch his arm. On turning, he saw that it was Angela, her short curling hair a gleaming golden halo in the spill of light from the small lamps lining the canopy above her. She looked up at him, her large luminous eyes fringed with thick dark lashes shining, her sweetly curving cheeks dimpling and her deliciously rosy lips slightly parted in a smile.
“Oh Alf,” she said, her voice soft and musical. “I just wanted to say how brave I think you are to take up such a challenge as the Mission and,” she blushed at her temerity, “I also wanted to tell you how well that uniform suits you.”
Her subtle perfume filled his nostrils as she lightly pressed her softly yielding body against his and just as he was tempted to clasp her even closer in his arms, the access door to the roof was flung open.
“Alf!” Chan called loudly. “Is that you out there? Come along now. You're wanted inside here for the official speeches.”
Reluctantly Angela pulled away from Alf, and the moment was lost forever.
Max Time 75.4.05
Their departure from Orth induced a mixture of feelings in the travellers. For Alf, BB and Chan, the exhilaration of an expedition into the unknown overlay an undercurrent of trepidation at leaving the familiar, while for Reth, the prospect of returning home to Terra filled him with eager anticipation. Everybody who could manage somehow to be there came to see them off, crowding onto the Unity Space Port viewing platform to cheer and wave as the Shuttle pulled away, bound for a rendezvous with the waiting SpaceShip.
Once the travellers had arrived and were secure inside the ships cabin with the Shuttle stowed safely aboard, they made absolutely sure, by checking and cross checking, that the automatic system controlling every aspect of the flight was fully operational. Only after the lengthy procedure was completed were they able to relax. Of necessity there were no portholes to peer out through, as piercing either the Shuttle's or the SpaceShip's hull in such a way would have compromised their structural strength. Instead, the technicians had placed visual signal transmitters at strategic points on the exterior of the ships. This meant that whenever any of the occupants desired, they could turn on the interior HoloScreens designed to receive the surrounding picture, and thus have, on the inside, an outside all round view. Seated on the chairs in the insulated cabin with the in-flight pseudo-gravitational field now operational, they watched in silence as the image of Orth rapidly diminished in size, until it became difficult to distinguish out from the overwhelming vastness of the space round it. Even the influence of the sun which provided Orth with it's light, warmth, and power, became increasingly reduced by it's growing remoteness.
This was an enterprise designed to transport them to a place where no person from Orth had gone before and returned with Mems to prove it, so a great deal of care had been taken with SpaceShip's construction. It was equipped with a Chronophaser, a device which allowed it to jump from one point in space to another without any loss of integrity. Use of such a system as this depended not only on possessing enough Eternity Batteries to provide the immense amount of energy needed, but also upon the constant recording of precise measurements regarding spatial orientation during the transferral, a process essential for accurate insertion of the ship into the universe's ever moving continuum. Operation of the automatic calibration correction function gave it the ability to log in the ever changing co-ordinates not only of its position relative to all other bodies in the multiple dimensions of space that the ship occupied, but also of the distance already travelled, the amount of power consumed, and the time taken to do so. Of necessity, scrupulous attention had been paid to every pre-programmed detail of celestial navigation for the tiniest error would make the likelihood of the Mission ever reaching Terra and returning to Orth highly improbable. It was suspected by Orths technicians that an inadequate amount of back up was what had gone wrong during the first SpaceShips flight. Therefore, for safety reasons, because the margin of acceptable deviation was near enough to zero as to allow them no chance of survival if a mistake were made, all the systems involved in the calculations possessed as near as possible to infinite backups.
Chronophasing would have been an extremely disorientating experience for any passengers fully aware of the process so as soon as the SpaceShip had passed far enough out from planetary influence for the procedure to be implemented without mishap, the travellers retired to the stasis capsules ready prepared for them. This was where they would spend the time it would take for the main part of their journey. Only when they were soundly sleeping in serene oblivion did the ship spin off in a series of umps through space. As the universe spasmodically whirled at hyper-temporal speeds around it, sudden showers of silent sparkling brilliance caused by microscopic particles of antimatter popping in and out of existence occasionally lit up the tiny vessels surrounds in a spectral display of unreal beauty, but the sleepers knew nothing of them. A thick layer of antimatter repellent on the exterior hull kept the travellers safe from foreign dimensional invasion as this was thought to be part of the reason for the loss of Mem in the second ship.
As soon as the SpaceShip reached its targeted destination, it slipped out of Chronophase mode and the passengers were automatically woken. They immediately climbed from their capsules and gathered before the viewing screens eager to watch as the ship closed in on Terra. For Reth, this was the moment he had so often dreamed of, the return to his home planet, while for the Orthians it was their first opportunity to Mem record the view of another world. They gazed down though the occasional gaps in the layers of billowing water vapour toward the great mass of the planet rolling ponderously past far below.
“It's rather obscured by cloud sir,” Alf commented.
“That's Terra all right,” said Reth. “Beautiful, isn't it.”
The SpaceShip entered into a geocentric orbit in the highest atmospheric stratum above the largest areas of ocean and automatically switched on the Guardian. This simple yet essential device was an anti-detection shield that bent all waves of sound or light found on one side of the hull and relayed them to be displayed on the other. When the operation was complete and the SpaceShip stabilised in the optimal position, the Guardian's red 'wait while I work' light set above the access hatch switched off and the green light came on. This meant that the vessel was now invisible and they were able to transfer into the landing Shuttle for the last part of the journey.
TERRA
Day one.
It was near the middle of a moonless night when the Shuttle flew swiftly down toward Terra through a mass of dark thickly swirling cloud. To compensate for the visual restriction, the exterior recorders immediately switched over to xtra spec vision, which amplified the little light available and rendered the images on the interior HoloScreens in a softly violet hue. Their flight path across the ocean toward land was a low level one, for this approach combined with the spectral diffraction and diffusion provided by the shape of the Shuttle and its external surface covering plus the silence and cool running of its drive provided them with the optimum concealment.
Although the Shuttle's risk of detection by whatever or whoever might be scanning the area was therefore quite small, in order to be sure Chan attempted to tune in to Terran Air Space Control using the frequencies Reth gave her and a few others besides. Yet all she could pick up was static, which was disturbing since her inability to hear any signal from Terra could not be taken as proof of Terran blindness to the Shuttles presence. It caused the Orthians, knowing as they did, that these people had in their possession weapons of mass destruction such as the planet busters Reth had told them about, to feel a little apprehensive, and the serious expressions on their faces showed their concern. Reth however, was smiling happily, feeling far too excited about coming home to care overmuch about what he considered a trivial matter.
“Don't worry,” he said. “Frequencies are changed all the time. It's all about security you know.”
Swiftly their little craft flew over the ocean and the closer it came to the surface, the larger the waves looked, a blur of heaving darkness laced with glimmering flecks of foam rushing away beneath them at a dizzying rate. A scattered string of tiny island archipelagos suddenly came racing toward them, breaking the surface of the violet water below into a flurry of irregular darker blots surrounded by paler halos of breaking surf before vanishing into the night behind the speeding Shuttle.
“That's the Grand Oceanic Reef,” Reth informed them. “Not far now!”
To the south the HoloScreens showed where the naked flanks of three tall volcanic cones rose steeply up out from the watery depths, their simmering glow lighting the undersides of the plumes of steam and smoke issuing from the craters at their heads.
Reth pointed. “Look! There's the Three Virgins. Unconquered because of their violently eruptive nature. Killers they are.”
Over another stretch of open water and then a much larger land mass came into view. It featured a broken coastline of wide shallow bays and low cliffs with several ranges of high hills rearing up behind. Their lower slopes were covered by thick vegetation and their tops hidden, wreathed in cloud.
“It's the Radikals!” Reth's obvious excitement showed in the rising pitch of his voice. “We're nearly there!”
As the Shuttle crossed the shoreline, heading westward toward the area Reth had said he knew well and where there were plenty of places to put down, they peered anxiously into the screens. So far their arrival appeared to have gone unnoticed, but this was the most dangerous part, for Reth had also told them of a landing port built on partially reclaimed land in one of the larger bays on the coast which would be full of space craft coming and going, a bustle of activity “twenty four seven” as he put it. Their course had been plotted so as to avoid it by as great a margin as possible, yet they had expected to see its lights and those of the craft using it way off to their right. However, not even the faintest glimmer of a gleam was visible.
“There's something wrong.” The tone of Reth's voice intimated the first faint hint of his uncertainty. “Could you fly a little nearer please?”
“Yes sir,” said Alf. “No problem,” he added for he too was curious.
Closer up they could see that the area between the shore and the low foothills showed every sign of impact damage and serious flooding. Great gaping wounds and water filled pits scarred what had obviously been a carefully levelled surface alongside the open to the sky partially collapsed skeletons of several large buildings. The scene below supplied ample reason for the absence of sound and light but it was not what Reth had expected. He stared silently down at the destruction his mouth set in a grim line. Finally Alf turned the Shuttle away and they rose until they reached an altitude where they might safely fly over the shrouded Radikal peaks. Several minutes later Alf bought the Shuttle down again and they popped out from under the thickly billowing vapours above the lower hills on the other side.
“There's a signal being emitted from some place way up ahead there,” said Chan pointing toward the front HoloScreen.
“Enlarge please,” Alf ordered and the area Chan had indicated grew to fill the screen until they could distinguish it out as an evenly pulsing beam of light emanating from a source too far off and indistinct for any positive identification.
“What ever it is, the scanners are showing some sensor probe activity in the vicinity. Wave emitters by the look of them sending out messages in an unintelligible code,” said Chan. “Without any deciphering key our equipment is unable to read it and we really don't have time to do an analytic search right now.” She turned to Reth. “Do you have any knowledge of what it is? Or of what the code might be sir?”
“No,” he admitted. “It's all new to me. Halzone city is over in that direction so maybe it's just an ordinary domestic communications broadcast that's got garbled by the distance.”
“And this distance is as far as we go,” said Alf as the Shuttle's automatic landing device having recognised a suitable spot took over, slowing and pausing to hover above its chosen place. “Perfect,” he added triumphantly as the mechanism brought them gently down to rest. “Praise be to Max and the workers of Orth, the Mission has landed!”
Although the travellers now felt the mass of Terran gravity weighing upon them, at the same time they were lightened by a heady sense of giddiness induced no doubt by the recent experience of high velocity during the Shuttle's passage. For some long moments they sat where they were, immobilised in the unusual stillness with only the tick of cooling components to break the silence. But this was not the time for meditation. With practised precision the Orthian crew ran through the landing checklist, ensuring that all the onboard systems were as they should be, for it was not until they were all absolutely sure of a safe departure sometime in the future that anyone could disembark from the Shuttle. Alf was the first to release himself from his harness and stand cautiously upright, stamping a little awkwardly with his booted feet on the floor of the Shuttle's cabin. “Weird,” he grinned, “but good!”
The others quickly followed his example and once up on their feet. They set to work taking off and stowing away the individually powered safe travel suits they wore over the top of their Terran type underwear. When that task was completed Reth put on his old FWU pilot's uniform, one of the few things he'd retained from his past, while the crew redressed in clothes of a Terran style made up from Orth fabric. Reth had provided the fabricators in Unity with enough data for them to fashion clothing appropriate for the expedition and the Orthians had rehearsed the process of putting them on the before leaving, yet somehow the odd shapes of the garments and the curious methods used to hold them together still proved to be something of a problem. BB was soon fumbling with a particularly difficult set of fastenings.
“What's happened here?” he said. “There's some left over!”
“You started off wrong again! I told you before, begin at the lowest pair and button upward,” Reth advised. “And Alf, I'm sure I told you before how a cap is worn. You've put it on back to front again!”
Finally, with the dressing up tasks completed, the Orthians and Reth shouldered their packs ready loaded with all the things they might need including squbes and KK rations that would pass for drink bottles and packed lunches on Terra. At the last minute BB retrieved the Hologram that he had promised Holly he would always carry with him and stowed it away in one of his trouser pockets. Now at last they were ready.
“Shall I?” Alf asked as he triggered the lock release. Pulling the door slightly open he took a deep breath of fresh Terran air from the gap. A sudden spasm of coughing shook him, his face contorted and he swiftly closed the door again.
“Are you all right?” Chan said anxiously.
“Fine, just fine,” Alf gasped wiping his eyes. “Just a bit of a stench is all. Took me rather by surprise.”
Chan pulled the door wide open and sniffed. “Smells like unfiltered reclamation vats.”
BB could detect it now too. He wrinkled up his nose at the peculiar odour. “It reminds me of the swamp in the Big Empty I accidentally walked into.”
Reth breathed in deeply. “I don't know what you're complaining about,” he said. “It smells like home to me.”
One at a time, with Alf in the lead, they clambered out from the Shuttle to stand and gaze around at their surroundings. In spite of the dimness caused by the pall of grey cloud filling the sky above, there was enough light for them to see that they had landed in a small slightly sloping valley set between steep hills cloaked in a thick growth of dark green bushes and trees. Several large boulders lay fallen in a tumbled heap nearby among the rank clumps of tall grasses while a small slow stream wandered casually westward down its middle toward the the lower open end and the distant view of more bush clad hills.
“Do you realise that after our return to Orth everyone will be able to view this historic event through our Mems,” Alf said a trifle pompously.
“How unfortunate for them there's so little to see,” Chan observed.
“How fortunate for them we can't record the smell!” said BB.
Chan checked the time on the facsimile Terran timepiece she wore, a replacement for her usual Wristo. It had the usual Mem download concealed inside as well as some extra functions, such as a device for tracing the signal emitted by others with Wristos which although limited in range the Elders had insisted on including. “It could be useful,” they had said, “especially if any one of you becomes separated from the others at any time.”
Apart from all those, Chan judged the time keeping device as rather inadequate, with no instant voice communicator, no personal health status indicator, no information in-port and so on. Nothing except the time and the date using a Terran method of calibration which measured a day of more hours, each one being much shorter then what they were accustomed to. Worst of all the hands on the circular dial face moved in the opposite direction to those on Orth.
“I find this Wristo quite confusing the way it runs backwards sir,” she complained.
“That's a matter of opinion,” countered Reth. “It runs clockwise which is quite correct here on Terra.”
“And why does it use three different number bases for measuring time sir? Didn't you say Terra uses a ten base system?”
“Not for everything. Time telling measures are based on ancient custom so they vary,” Reth replied, “and I told you before, it's not a called a Wristo. It's a watch.”
“Why is it called a watch sir?”
“Because having one makes it possible for the wearer to watch and see for themselves just how much time they're wasting standing around asking stupid questions,” Reth retorted sharply.
Right now according to Terran time it was after six in the morning of an early spring day, yet to the Orthians, in spite of the early hour and the temperature regulating properties cleverly incorporated into the fabric of their imitation Terran wear, it already felt warmer than a mid summers day back home.
“I'll hide the Shuttle and then we'll get moving,” said BB and he tapped in the instruction code on the plate beside the door to begin the automatic disguise operation. Immediately the Read and Copy system installed for just this purpose scanned the area and with the use of its Surface Optical Illusion Generator began covering itself with a fair imitation of a nearby boulder until the Shuttle lost it's look of sleek smoothness, acquiring instead a rough exterior synonymous with the appearance of a rock. It wouldn't stand up to too close a scrutiny and the access code plate still showed in one place, but it was quite small and faint enough to escape casual notice and the rock illusion would persist for about one hundred Orth days.
“That's the same as over six weeks on Terra, which allows you plenty of time for the Mission, and it's perfectly safe where it is because nobody ever comes here very much,” Reth had assured them. “You'll be back with your Mems and the oranges well before the disguise runs out, no worries.”
“Before we start out does anyone want any rations?” Chan asked.
“I wouldn't mind a sqube,” BB replied, “but that's all. This disgusting smell has ruined my appetite.”
“Same here,” agreed Alf.
Reth had some difficulty concealing his impatience.“Do hurry up,” he said as they each retrieved a Terran drinking bottle shaped sqube from their packs and sipped on the nutritious blue liquid contained inside. At last, much to his relief, they finished their drinks, packed away their empty containers and were ready to move out.
“My parents farm is just down the hill and there's a track leads straight to it just along here,” said Reth as they set off. “I know it well. When I was young I used to camp up here in the bush with my Junior Corporate Service Troop. We had great fun in those days learning all about how to survive in the wilderness. We'd sit round the campfire in the evening after a long days hunting and sing songs about Bravery and Corporate Comradeship and all the sort of stuff that makes men out of boys.”
“As I understand it becoming an adult in the physical sense is the inevitable result of growth and continuing survival sir,” commented Chan. “Which has little to do with intellectual development of course.”
Reth increased his pace, saying no more about the good times he'd had in his youth.
No comments:
Post a Comment