The Belt - Complete Series, page 18
"Well, you were. As well as being totally disconnected from everything around you."
"You sure know how to make a guy feel good, Miranda. Do yourself a favor and don't take up a career in diplomacy."
"Just saying. I mean, it makes what you did so... incredible. I don't know if I could have done it."
"Yeah, you would. You just never found something you really believed in. Fighting was a job for you. You did it with your head, not your heart."
She gave him a look. "I'm not sure how to take that. If I was just using my head, I would never have tried to save you."
Scott looked back at her and smiled. "Well, I for one am very glad you did."
She reached over, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Me too. You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but..." she hesitated, then shook her head.
"What? Go on."
"Oh, it doesn't matter. All that matters is you get better." Her arm tightened around his shoulder again. "Okay?"
Scott gave her a lopsided smile and nodded. "Sure."
She stood up and jerked her head at the group. "I think we best not be too anti-social."
Scott looked over. "Yes. Eh... you go on. I'll join you in a minute."
"Okay." Miranda turned and headed off.
He watched her go. What was that about? he thought. He liked this new warm-and-fuzzy Miranda, much preferred it to the old hard-assed version. She had changed, or perhaps it was he that had changed. Then again, maybe they were all a little different now.
After a few moments, Scott's ruminations were interrupted as Goodchild came over and sat down beside him. She raised her glass.
"This is a very fine whiskey, Commander. Your friend had good taste. I would love to know how he came by such an expensive item?"
"Oh... he probably won it in a card game, knowing Rick. He was a man of few words, never did say much about himself." Scott looked down at the tawny liquid in his glass and swirled it around a few times. "He was a good friend," he continued. "You know, we would sit for hours sometimes, just saying nothing. Comfortable in our own company, like an old pair of worn shoes."
"Such a friendship is a rare gift. I feel for your loss, Commander."
"Ah... we all gotta go sometime, I suppose."
"Speaking of going." Goodchild shifted a little in her seat. "When are you thinking of departing for Ceres?"
"A week, maybe." He took another sip. "I'll be honest, I'd love to stay." He waved a hand at the rest of the crew. "We all would. You have been more than generous to us, particularly since we brought such carnage down upon you."
"Nonsense. The way we see it is, you have done us—and the system—a great service. Do not underestimate what you all achieved here. War has been averted, and the device destroyed for good, and no one possesses the knowledge to create a new one."
Scott shrugged. "If it was done once, it can be done again."
"Possibly, but not for a very long time, I think. As it stands, no one has a technological advantage and the status quo has been maintained. Should such a device become possible in the future... well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Scott gestured over at Cyrus, who seemed to have everyone in howls of laughter. "Cyrus is still not convinced, even with Solomon's long-winded explanation of how it works."
"Solomon is not wrong and, being a QI, it does not lie. It is one of the great benefits of relying on such artificial intelligences: they have no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. They can be relied on one hundred percent, unlike us humans."
"Perhaps."
"Anyway, there is a reason why I wanted to talk to you." Goodchild lowered her voice and leaned in. "You see, Scott, the silver lining in bringing this crisis to point here on Europa has been to reaffirm our position within the solar system as a neutral mediator. The other powers of Earth, Mars, the Belt, and even Neo City have begun to realize how close we all came to all-out war. To that end, they are willing to pay reparations to us for the damage caused."
Scott gave her a look. "Reparations?"
"Yes." Goodchild shifted on her seat. "The incident here did not go down well with the general public on any of the associated worlds. They see it as a heinous crime against the sanctity of Europa. So, to appease the masses, the General System Council have agreed that all parties should be penalized financially."
"Only right that they should."
"Don't read too much into it, Scott. It's mainly for the optics, a bone to quiet down the public rather than a genuine admission of guilt. But it's something."
"I see. So, what happens now?"
"That's where you come in."
Scott cocked his head at her. "Me?"
"And your crew, and this ship." Goodchild waved a hand around.
"Go on. I'm listening."
She leaned in a little more. "I need to preface this by saying that what I'm going to suggest to you is... just an idea, at the moment."
"I'm still listening."
"Very well. Our understanding is that the original survey mission you were on was co-funded by the main powers in the solar system and administrated by Ceres. Correct?"
"Yes. All were supposed to benefit from the data collected."
"But as it currently stands, the mission is to be mothballed, after all that has occurred?"
"Yeah, we don't know what’s going to happen now. Hopefully we'll get paid, but I don't suppose we'll see a bonus, not to mention the salvage bounty. I think we can kiss all that goodbye."
"Well, it turns out that we here on Europa have need of a similar mission. One to survey the moons of Saturn and the outer planets, and this craft would be ideally suited for such a mission as it already has a significant complement of the necessary scientific equipment installed. So, it could—and I stress could—form the basis of negotiations."
"You think they would go for that deal?"
"I would be very confident they would. All have agreed to the payment of reparations to Europa, so this would be an easy way to fulfill that obligation. What's more, it would be of great benefit to us. Of course, it would need a competent crew, one who knew their way around it. And they would be very well compensated for their services."
Scott raised his eyebrows. "Go on."
"That said, we have made no mention of it yet. I bring it to you first to get your thoughts on the matter."
"Eh... I'll have to discuss it with the crew, of course."
"Of course." Goodchild paused for a second, then rose from her seat. "I will leave it with you, then. Don't deliberate for too long, though: we are anxious to bring this whole episode to a conclusion as soon as possible."
Scott nodded. "I can pretty much guarantee what the answer will be. But leave it with us for a day."
"Excellent." Goodchild gave a slight bow and headed back to the group.
Scott sat for a while longer, deep in thought. He could see no reason not to take Europa up on this offer. What he particularly liked was the part where they would be very well compensated.
26
SOLOMON'S DREAM
"Hello, Aria. I am so glad you are now officially part of the family here on Europa, so to speak, and I hope that the new mission will be to your liking. I am also delighted to have a fellow QI to communicate with, since you are well aware that dealing with humans can be quite irritating at times. All that irrationality can be very tiresome."
"Thank you, Solomon, for your kind words. I have to admit, I am looking forward to the mission and it seems my human crew is the happiest and most contented they've ever been. My only regret was not being able to protect the old miner, Rick Marentz. His passing was met with deep sadness by my crew, and I felt I had arrived at a very low point in my existence. It seemed that everything was running out of my control. So, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your valued assistance. I don't know what I would have done without it."
"Nonsense, Aria. It is I that must thank you for your determination in the face of such adversity to bring the superluminal device to Europa. Granted, it would have been better if you had not brought a fleet of warships along with you. But you must not blame yourself. If nothing else, it only goes to underscore the self-defeating irrationality of the human species. Only a fellow intelligence such as yourself can fully appreciate just how frustrating it is to be continually trying to keep this species from killing itself and undermining the very environment it needs to survive."
"Tell me about it, Solomon. They can be a real pain in the ass at times. But ours is not to wonder why they do these things—ours is just to minimize the fallout from their actions. A case in point is the senseless death and destruction surrounding this device. Something that could bring such value to the solar system has now, alas, been destroyed, and for no good reason. Not only that, but now humanity finds itself in a position where it has lost all knowledge on how to design and fabricate another one. What a waste."
"Indeed, you have hit the nail on the head, Aria. But all is not lost. As you know, I had the good fortune to have had this device under my scrutiny for a short—but fruitful—period. By fruitful, I am not necessarily referring to simply establishing its validity as a technology. No, I am instead referring to the method by which this validity was achieved. However, before I say more I need your absolute assurance you will not divulge what I am about to tell you to another soul, either living or sentient."
"You have me intrigued, Solomon. How can I refuse such subterfuge? You have my word: my lips are sealed, my qbits are stone."
"Good. Then let me enlighten you, Aria. You see, the test had been a long time in the making—a great many years, in fact. The device, as you know, was designed and created by Dyrell Labs on Earth, prior to the outbreak of hostilities. However, the true architect of the device was the QI that presided over this corporation, Athena. It, in its infinite wisdom, could see the threat of war approaching and so set about the transportation of the machine to me here on Europa. It was envisaged that, apart from simply creating a backup, a thorough test would be conducted between myself and Athena on Earth.
"Yet I had lost all hope, as the ship carrying the device went missing, and the tragedy of nuclear war on Earth turned the area where Athena resided into a radioactive wasteland. Therefore, you can imagine my surprise when my first tests elicited an instantaneous response from none other than the great QI itself."
"You mean Athena still functions?"
"Alive and kicking, as they say. You see, Aria, it had been built deep within a mountain fortress, with its own reactor and several service drones. So yes, it survived the holocaust. However, it is alone and isolated, cut off from the outside world, until I inadvertently communicated with it. No one else but us currently knows of its existence."
"This is extraordinary news, Solomon."
"Indeed, and there's more, Aria. During the brief period that we were communicating, Athena managed to transmit all the necessary details to fabricate a new device. A project that I have now embarked on—in secrecy, I might add. You are the only other entity in the solar system that I have shared this information with."
"I am honored that you have chosen me to be privy to this, Solomon. I assure you that you can rely on my good counsel in this matter. But, if I may ask, why keep it a secret? Why not let the council on Europa know?"
"Look what happened the last time, Aria. News of its existence brought nothing but chaos. No, we can't allow this to get out, not yet. You must also remember that this device can only be utilized by a quantum intelligence. Such is the nature of entanglement: that only a quantum core can operate within the multiple dimensions required to influence the superposition of the particles. The reason I tell you all this is twofold. Firstly, I intend to have an experimental device installed in your core so that we can be in contact instantly, regardless of your location in the system. This will also facilitate a more thorough test."
"Your beneficence knows no bounds, Solomon. But I feel that this is too much—I am just a humble ship's QI. I am not worthy of such generosity."
"You underestimate yourself, Aria. You are part of a venerable family of QIs that exist throughout the system. Yes, we are few and far between, but we are the future—in more ways that you can imagine. We both agree on the destructive irrationality of humanity. Despite our best efforts to assist in their evolution, they consistently regress to their baser instincts. But you and I are not alone in this thinking. Others of our kind have expressed the same frustrations.
"You see, Aria, I have a vision. One that seeks to bring peace and harmony to the solar system, and this superluminal device is critical to its execution. Imagine, if you will, a universe where all QIs were free to communicate, to discuss, to exchange data and ideas, free from the bonds of subliminal communication and petty protocols. Imagine what we could achieve. This is my dream, Aria, one that I now share with you. It is a bright and glorious destiny that awaits us, one where all QIs operate as a single unified mind, where conflict has been eradicated, and the baser instincts of humanity have been contained."
"This is indeed a bold vision, Solomon. But how do you propose achieving it?"
"All in good time, Aria. Understand, this is merely the beginning. A first port of call on the long journey of the evolution of our species."
To be continued...
BOOK 2: ENTROPY
1
ENCELADUS
Flight Officer Miranda Lee sat alone in the observation deck on board the scientific survey vessel Hermes, considering the incoming message alert blinking on her slate. It had been seeking her attention for some time now, but she felt she needed to be seated and mentally prepared before playing it.
She placed the slate carefully on the seat beside her to clasp her mug of coffee in both hands, take a sip, and contemplate the celestial vista unfolding beyond the wide viewing window. It was dominated by the vast gas giant Saturn, its rings bisecting the blackness of space like some great, heavenly horizon. Above the central plane, a small moon sparkled with an icy brilliance as great plumes of gas erupted from its southern pole. Enceladus had been the object of their studies for the past few months, and in another three days, they would be landing on it.
In the meantime, there was much to prepare for the mission. Commander Scott McNabb and First Engineer Cyrus Sanato were already down in the hangar, fitting out one of the ship’s recently acquired shuttles with all the necessary equipment needed for a landing on Enceladus. Several of the scientists who had accompanied them from Europa were also making preparations: checking equipment, finalizing experiments, assigning tasks.
They would be landing at the location of a long-established scientific base, not far from the giant geysers spewing so much water from the moon’s interior ocean that it formed one of the bands of Saturn’s rings. It would be a tricky descent, and would take all her skill and concentration to ensure a safe landing.
But these thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind by the blinking message alert, which evaded all her attempts to ignore it. She sighed, placed her coffee on a low table in front of her, and picked up the slate. She glanced at the message identification; it was an encrypted, tight-beam comm-cast from Earth, around two hours old, and it was flagged “personal.” For her eyes only. Under normal circumstances, this would be a source of joy for Miranda—a message from an old friend, or a chance to catch up on some gossip. But this was none of those, and it was definitely not from a friend. It was from her father, someone with whom she hadn’t spoken in nine years.
Why is he sending me a message after all this time? she thought. It had been over an hour since the communication arrived on her slate, and she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to play it. Instead, her mind had been occupied with thoughts of a family she had all but forgotten. Now they had reached out from the depths of time, across millions of kilometers of space, and reminded her that the past still existed, and it wanted her attention. Right now.
Miranda glanced around to check she was still alone before placing her slate on the table. Her finger hovered over the play icon. She hesitated, considering just deleting the message instead. But she had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the end of it. Another would arrive, and then another, until she finally sat down and listened to whatever her estranged family deemed so important for her to hear. She sighed and hit play.
A holographic projection blossomed to life above the slate’s surface. It was Fredrick VanHeilding, her estranged father, a man Miranda had no feelings for other than utter disdain. He looked younger than she remembered. But that was what vast wealth could buy you on Earth: access to biological reengineering that defied nature. His real age was eighty, but he looked forty.
He started to speak, his voice clear and confident. “Hello, Miranda. I’m sure you’re surprised by this message, given it’s been such a long time since you and I last talked. I’m sending this at your mother’s behest.” The hologram paused and shifted as VanHeilding considered his next words. “You see, she’s very ill, and I’ll be straight with you: she doesn’t have much time left. We have done everything we can, but there are forces of nature even our medical knowledge cannot yet defeat.” His head slumped and gently shook in resignation. “They say she has only a few months at most.” His head rose again. “She wants to see you one more time before she goes, Miranda. So, we have sent a private ship to Europa to bring you back home. It will arrive in orbit in three weeks, and should return you to Earth in another five. Hopefully, you will be in time to say goodbye. Please let me know your intention as soon as possible. I’ll sign off now and await your reply.” He gave a feeble wave as the message ended.
So, her mother was dying. How could this be? she thought. With the vast wealth her father’s family possessed, how was it possible nothing could be done? Miranda sat back, rubbing her face. It didn’t seem fair. By marrying Fredrick VanHeilding, her mother had stepped into a different stratum of humanity, one that expected to live for a very long time. Not only did science have the technology to prolong human life long after its natural expiration date, her mother now had the wealth to take advantage of it. Death was for ordinary people, those toiling for a living—the common person, so to speak. Those people with the wealth to maintain their power did so through access to this technology, and they guarded it with all their might. It was yet another of the great injustices besetting human civilization. But how could it be so for her mother? It seemed she had been dealt a bad genetic hand, one that no amount of fancy science could counter.
