The Agathon: Book One (5 page)

Yo
ung hung up the transmission and turned to Tosh. Tosh looked at him.

“She’s a full head of steam, eh?” he said.

“That she is,” he replied.

“You think Ryder got the message?”

“He got the message,” Young replied.

“How long do we have?” Tosh turned to the display.

“The uplink from the Earth orbiter is beginning to show tectonic activity. I think we need to talk to Tyrell.”

“Get him on the line,” said Young. The comms chirped and Tyrell’s face appeared.

“Dr Tyrell, I am afraid whatever is happening up here is not a friendly hello anymore. Do you concur?” said Young

“Mr. Young, I have been monitoring the changes in the signal and, from what I can gather, it is becoming evident that this is some sort of energy weapon being directed at Earth’s core. We have no current defence against a Gamma radiation of this magnitude. Judging by the intensity of the pulse, I would say we are looking at an extinction level event.” There was a silence.

“Jesus Christ, what can we do?” Young asked quietly, almost rhetorically.

Tyrell responded, “Save as many as you can and send them here. There isn’t much time. I’m going to speak to Barrington now. If you will excuse me, I think we need to get moving... fast. Tyrell out.” The transmission closed and Young and Tosh looked at the technicians who were now focused on them. Panic was starting to fill their eyes. A young Asian manning the communications station beside Tosh looked up.

“Sir, can’t we just blow up the Monolith?” he asked.

Young put a hand on his shoulder. “The station doesn’t have anything powerful enough to damage it. We tried every explosive and particle weapon we had five years ago, to try to get inside. Not a scratch.”

“Get me Ryder on the comms. Secure the channel.” Young placed an earpiece in his ear. After a few seconds he was connected.

“Ryder, this is Jerome Young. Olympus has fallen. This is not a drill. Acknowledge. Do it now.” The comms clicked. He looked at Tosh.

“I want to speak to John Barrington now.”

Main
Observatory

– Astrometrics
lab
- T minus six minutes

“This is Tyrell,” he said, raising his voice but not taking his eyes of the
holo
-comp display.

“Tyrell, it’s Tosh here. You seeing what I’m seeing up here with the signal?” Tyrell was studying the data on his display carefully.

“Tyrell, you there?” Tosh said. An urgency in his voice piqued Tyrell’s interest. Tosh was not one for displaying emotion easily. Tyrell looked on for a minute, to see what he was on about.

“One second, Doctor, I have not been observing it as of yet.” There was no doubt there was an increase in the amount of data being transmitted, but there was something strange about the way the data was being organised. It had begun to pulse. The stream had never done that before, but there was something else. There was a definite energy signature now being emitted by the signal. Tyrell couldn’t believe it.

“Tosh, I’m seeing an energy pulse embedded in the stream and it seems to be increasing. You concur?”

“Yep, that’s what we’re seeing up here. I don’t like it Tyrell, our sensors are going berserk. It’s highly focused and directed towards the Earth. If it keeps going it’s going to cause destabilisation in the core. I’ve got Young coming in from an EVA now.” Tyrell took a moment to take in what Tosh was saying. He needed time.

“Inform the chancellor immediately, Doctor. I will monitor and contact you in ten minutes.”

“Okay, will do,” Tosh replied and the comms clicked off. He stared at the stream for a moment and then tapped some commands into the clear panel on the desk

“What is the nature in the change of signal?” he said to the computer. A few moments later, a soft, female voice responded.

“Signal composition increase by 7000%. Composition now 42% Gamma 13% photonic with unknown elemental variants being observed.”

Tyrell continued, “Speculate as to unknown elemental variations.”

There was silence, then the voice responded. “Standard analysis of the variants is not possible under current analytical conditions.” Tyrell looked at the data and tapped a few more commands into the panel.

“Begin a comparative analysis on the interaction with known particles and electromagnet field generation from a planetary body.”

The computer acknowledged, “Beginning analysis. Please stand by.”

Tyrell’s heart rate began to increase as he did some computations on his own palm computer. “It couldn’t be,” he whispered to himself, as he looked at the numbers.

The female voice clicked in. “Particle analysis complete. Gamma ray synthesis is possible in a planetary core, given the infusion of known particles.”

Tyrell’s eyes widened. “Speculate as to probable outcome of Gamma ray interaction with core of planetary body.”

The female voice responded coldly. “98% probability of anni
hilation of planetary body.” Tyrell sat and watched the signal as it flowed like a river across the
holo
-comp display. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so energised. Surely he should call Barrington. The end of the world was coming. Earth had been chosen. Its people could not respond to the signal and the creators had grown angry and frustrated with its ignorance. It was time. He had been chosen. To live. He had escaped. The universe knew that he needed to find the true nature of it all. And the meek shall inherit the Earth.

“And the meek will die,” said Tyrell. He hadn’t noticed the incoming transmission from Tosh. His eyes were still fixated on the signal. The comms continued to sound.

Tyrell finally answered, keeping his tone subdued. “Tosh? I’m seeing a Gamma burst being focused at the core. With that level of energy I think we’re looking at a cataclysmic explosion.”

Tosh replied, “Jesus fucking Christ, why would they blow the planet?”

“It seems they’ve run out of patience. I advise you to get who you can off the surface. There isn’t much time. I need to call Barrington and advise him. I’ll keep observing. Tyrell out.”

Tosh was in the middle of replying when the comms went dead.

Office of Commander Barrington

Commander John Barrington stared at the two colonists sitting across his large oak desk. His mind had been wandering for the last several minutes and he was having difficulty focusing after his
thirty
-six hour survey of the orbiting Agathon dry dock.

“Commander. Do you hear me?” Doctor Chase Meridian asked.

“Hmm?” he said, realising that he hadn’t.

“I said that we have now been waiting for three days for the transfer of the micron inhibitor and the good doctor here is refusing to give it back until he’s finished with his silly little analysis of the
microbial
—”

“Now hang on just a second,” interrupted a flustered young man sitting beside her. “You gave my department total discretionary use of the equipment for a period of three weeks, not two!” he said in a thick Scottish accent.

“Oh for God’s sake,” retorted Meridian. “Commander, Doctor Kyle McDonnell knows full well what my conditions were for relocating that machine, and the fact that we are sitting here...”

Barrington raised his hand. “Doctors, please...” he said, sighing. He leant on the table and placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose.

“I am sorry, Commander, I realise you must be tired from the last few days. We can discuss this when you’ve had some rest,” said Meridian. Barrington could hear the concern in her voice and looked up, giving her a smile.

“Kyle, you have until the end of the week, then transport the inhibitor to the biology lab. Will that be satisfactory to you both?” he said wearily. They both nodded and stood to leave.

“Doctor Meridian, a moment if you will,” he said. She turned and nodded to McDonnell, who gave her a cheeky smile as he left. Barrington was in no doubt that there was something between those two, but had never confronted her about it. She sat and pulled her dark hair behind her ear. She was a plain woman in her early forties, with simple features and a
well
-kept physique. She was a disciplined and meticulous biologist with a dry wit.

“Drink?” he asked her, knowing the answer.

“Constantly,” she replied with a smile.

“How is she doing?” she asked.

Barrington fixed her a neat whisky and handed her the
large
-bottomed glass. He sat in a long lounger chair next to the wall and stared out the window. “At this rate, we’ll never get done. The damn hull plating is still absorbing way too much background radiation. It will just break apart the second we go into sub light. We have to find a way to make the polarising resin thicker or all this will be for nothing.” He swirled his drink around his glass.

“That is nice,” Meridian said. “But I was referring to your daughter.” He looked over at her and smiled.

“Oh right,” he said. “That’s even worse.”

“She still having nightmares?” she said. Barrington nodded. He looked out the window again.

“I wish Jennifer had let me take them both back to Earth. I never wanted to bring up a daughter on this hunk of rock. Let alone bring one up alone. I’m a military commander. What the hell do I know about raising a woman?” He took a thick gulp of his whisky and let it burn his throat, before he stood up to make himself another. Meridian laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he said.

“It’s the same as building a starship, John. Once piece at a time. I think you’re doing okay,” she said, dropping ranks. “Jennifer knew the risks of doing what she did and she wouldn’t have married you if she didn’t think you were up to the job. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” she said.

“Twenty one years?” he said, giving her a grin. He looked out at the networks of pods and connected walkways of Mars Colony 1. Off to the right he glanced at the main control centre of Aquaria Base. The
thirty
-storey pyramid structure was the focal point of the colony and shone a beacon of light into the night sky. A nice touch by the designers, keeping the inhabitants in touch with Earth.

“I miss her,” he said suddenly. There was a moment of silence before Meridian stood and walked over beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We all do,” She said. “But you have something special in Carrie. We both know that. She is important, John. You have to turn to her now. You have to let Jen go.” Barrington didn’t answer. He had to restrain a sudden and unexpected flood of emotion that threatened to overcome him. It was probably tiredness.

“Any change in her telepathic abilities?” she asked. He shook his head.

“They are strong,” he said. “She’s hiding something from me. I thought it was just the usual secrets, but there is something else.” Meridian nodded.

“You might have better luck than I,” he said. She laughed.

“We may be close, John, but she still keeps me at arm’s length. Give her time,” she said. “She will have to say something eventually, John. There are already rumours.”

“Not yet,” he snapped back. “I will not have Carrie the subject of colony gossip. I have enough to worry about with Jycorp brass breathing down my neck every minute of the day, without having to deal with that.”

Meridian took a breath and looked away to break the tension.

“Where are you on the latest batch of results on The Black?” he asked under his breath.

“Nowhere,” she said, placing her empty glass on the table. “It is highly resistant to everything we throw at it.” He nodded. “Get some rest. If you want I’ll get Brubaker up here to give you a tranquilliser.” She paused. “Or something better.”

Barrington laughed. Brubaker’s romantic interest in him was no secret between them. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. She nodded and turned for the door.

“Let’s do dinner tomorrow. We can chat some more,” she said. Barrington gave her a thankful nod and she headed out into the hallway. The
holo
-comp on his desk came to life with a light flurry of activity, indicating an incoming call. Without shifting his gaze he answered.

“Barrington here.”

A young male voice answered, “Commander, it’s David. I am passing by, can I have a word about The Agathon?” Barrington sighed, wondering if he would ever get any sleep this evening

“No problem, Lieutenant. Come on in,” he said.

Lieutenant David Chavel stood at the entrance to the commander’s office. The
thirty
-
two
-
year
-old pilot stepped in and gave a familiar salute to the commander, who reciprocated casually. They had spent so much time together over the last several months that protocol was starting to lapse. Barrington had reminded himself to keep an eye on that, but for the moment he couldn’t have cared less. Jycorp had increased the materials shipments in recent months and new personnel were coming in almost weekly. Chavel had been a key player in handling the logistics of the build. Barrington was fond of the young man. He had an enigmatic personality and took initiative well.

Chavel had come to his attention a few years earlier, following an accident in which he had earned the Daedalus Medal of Honour for bravery in the course of action. He had been a pilot at the helm of a transport ship bound for the Jycorp mining operations facility on the moon when it had been struck by a micro meteor shower. With the temperature of the command module falling and oxygen depleted, he had managed to seal the crew and passengers into an aft compartment and pilot the stricken vessel safely into orbit around the moon. When the rescue team had finally reached them he had been clinically dead. Chavel took a seat opposite Barrington and placed a display pad on the desk.

“Drink?” Barrington asked politely.

“No, thank you, sir. If I have a drink now, God only knows where some of these engine parts will end up.” Barrington smiled lightly. He could tell the young officer had been up for well over
twenty
-four hours and was operating on pure adrenalin at this stage.

“So how’s our baby doing?” asked Barrington. Chavel tapped some commands into the pad and with a smooth flicker of particles a
three
-dimensional image of a ship was born from the light. The two men looked on at the ship. A large
disc
-shaped object rotated slowly before them. Jycorp had completely redesigned their interstellar concept designs by removing all external fusion engines. The Alpha class vessels, which ferried supplies and personnel between planets, were extremely reliable and efficient but had been bulky in order to accommodate the drive sections of the ships. The Agathon had been built without the need for fusion drives, allowing its simplistic and streamlined design. The rim of the ship spun independently on its axis at varying speeds, creating an electromagnetic field. The FTL drive section was powered by a secondary spinning ring, encompassing the ship and was located perpendicular to the edge of the vessel. This ring was locked in place next to the rim of the fuselage while not in use. Windows and lights peppered the vessel, giving it a grand scale even while viewed at this size on Barrington’s holo display. The ship was clearly unfinished, with at least a quarter of the aft exposed to the vacuum of space. Corridors and quarters were visible like an open dolls’ house.

Barrington addressed the young lieutenant. “She’s a work of art, David,” he said.

“Yes, sir. She sure is. She needs a lick of paint, mind you, and we’ve got some issues with FTL ring deployment. The architecture of The Agathon was designed so that its symmetry facilitated the transition of the hull smoothly from normal space to faster than light speeds, with as little stress as possible to the outer hull.

“As you know, sir, the relatively large surface area of the ship was causing an odd mass variable during gravimetric simulations,” Chavel said. Barrington nodded.

“The problem is the radial alignment of the FTL ring when it reaches full rotation,” he continued. “It creates its own mass in the middle of the space time singularity, so we have to adjust the rotations per second by a millisecond or so to allow for the effect. Otherwise the stress on the hull might tear the ring clean off the ship.”

Barrington sat back in his seat. “A millisecond, huh?” he said, smiling. Chavel looked back up from the image of the rotating ship and reciprocated.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“I think I can live with that, Lieutenant.”

Chavel nodded. “I thought you would, sir. We can’t get a full test done until we can lock up the hull on that aft section,” he said, pointing to the unfinished part of the craft.

“Where are we at on that?” asked Barrington. Chavel blew a sigh out.

“Eighteen to
twenty
-four months at least, at this rate. We are getting heat from Jycorp on our latest personnel request. Seems there’s politics in play on the flight crew allocation. Until we can get confirmation on the last batch, we’re gonna be waiting on the remainder of the hull alloys.” Barrington nodded and tapped a command into the display pad, and the ship sank back into digital oblivion. He sat back in his chair and addressed the young man.

“Been quite the year, hasn’t it?”

He smiled. “Yes sir, it has.”

“David, I realise you have been under tremendous stress and I want you to know that I am not in any way unsympathetic to the weight that has been thrust on your shoulders. I have been forced to improvise in order to build this little world of ours and also try and spearhead the greatest leap our civilisation has ever attempted. I am not sure I have ever thanked you properly for the sacrifices you have made, not only for me but for the colony.” He paused and looked at the surprised expression on the young man’s face

“I owe you a great debt, David. If Jennifer were here today she would agree with me. I just wanted to express that to you, as I thought it important.”

“It’s my honour, sir,” he replied, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat.

“I am concerned about my daughter, David.” Chavel raised an eyebrow.

“How so? She seems to fit in very well, no?”

“You don’t have daughters, do you, Lieutenant?” Barrington returned with a light smile.

Chavel reciprocated, “No, sir. How can I help?”

“She is becoming increasingly isolated. Much like her mother used to be. Forgive me for being so blunt, but how well do you know her?”

Chavel shifted in his seat. “Not well, sir. She seems to shy away from conversation. We’ve talked. She’s bright and very capable. She seems guarded, but if she is having difficulty she seems to hide it well.”

The commander contemplated the young man’s words. “Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all.” Chavel stood and collected the pad off the desk

“Anything I can do, sir,” he replied as he made his way to the door. It slid open with proximity and the young lieutenant made his way into the corridors. Barrington’s thoughts wandered as he leaned back in his chair, once again turning to face the exterior view of the glowing colony. His eyes drifted towards the observatory, as the peace of the moment weighed heavily on his eyes. He began to drift into unconsciousness.

The smell of freshly cut grass on a summer’s day fills his senses. It is Mars. But different. Alive with lush green landscape. He feels the soft ground beneath his feet and the sun’s warm rays on his face. He looks up and sees his wife across the field in her colonial jumpsuit, back to him.

“Jennifer,” he shouts.

The silence and bliss between the two of them is palpable, as they stare at each other across the open field. Scattered throughout the landscape are a variety of forests and streams now teeming with life. Overhead the skies are alight with broken cloud formations, splitting the Martian sunlight into beams of striking colours. The sounds of life on this new Earth drown the senses. They are separated by a quiet flowing river, which flows effortlessly over the uneven ground. Light breezes play with her hair, as the warm glow of the distant sun warms their faces. It is a happy moment. He never moves towards her. As if they glance at each other across some impassable terrain. She mouths something to him. Every time the same. He can’t quite make it out.