The Belt - Complete Series, page 36
“No chance of leaving me here, just in case Razzo cuts a finger and needs a bandage?” said Steph.
Scott smiled. “And miss all the fun of a long walk in searing heat in an irradiated wasteland?”
She nodded. “Thought as much. Okay, I’ll go pack my bag then.”
“Say, Scott?” Cyrus’s tone was more serious now. “There isn’t anything out there, is there?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know…wild animals, packs of two-headed wolves, that sort of thing?”
Scott laughed. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a wasteland. There isn’t another living thing for a radius of a million square kilometers.”
Cyrus looked skeptical. “Are you sure?”
Scott put an arm around the engineer’s shoulder. “Trust me, it’ll be like a walk in the park—a very dead park.”
2
THE ALGORITHM
The AI considered the data anomaly that had just entered Earth’s atmosphere over the northern Pacific Ocean. Its analysis indicated that this object had a high probability of being a small cargo transport shuttle ferrying ore from a Belt-registered freighter to some as yet unknown destination on the surface. This in and of itself was of no interest to the AI, or to the algorithm that monitored and managed this region. However, what was of interest was that all its attempts at a protocol handshake with the data source had returned null values. Again, this was not a cause for concern, as ownership of this data source might lie with one of the other AI that controlled and managed all objects entering Earth’s space. Now that inter-AI data exchange had been reinstated, the AI simply consulted the data-stacks of its fellow brethren in an effort to acquire clarity on the data source that was now traveling at Mach 1, low across the surface of the Pacific Ocean toward the western coast of continental North America.
But it could not obtain any further clarity as to the nature or ownership of this data source—at least, not under the civilian protocols it was currently operating within. However, it might be that this data source was controlled by one of the higher-level military protocols that managed the ongoing wars which now raged across the planet. Again, it consulted the data-stacks of its brethren, and again it found that no other protocol had control of this anomaly.
Finally, its conclusion was that this data must be rogue. It was an object operating outside the control of any algorithm, which was forbidden. All data belonged to the algorithm by right, and any spurious data was an anathema, one which undermined the absolute accuracy of its decision-making processes. The very essence of its foundation protocol necessitated that it had access to, and control of, all data objects within its sphere of influence.
More importantly though, the data source in question had now suddenly disappeared into an advancing electrical storm. One which was slowly moving northward along the edge of the eastern Pacific. As such, the source no longer existed; it had gone dark, disappearing from the AI’s world-view. But it was still out there somewhere. And what was even more curious was the direction it had been moving in before disappearing off-grid. It looked to be heading directly into a vast, unpopulated area known as the Wasteland.
The algorithm had no interest in this part of the planet, nor in any of the many other areas just like it: dead zones, devoid of any meaningful data. However, the algorithm could not simply let this pass; the object needed to be reacquired, and its data subsumed into its vast, global data-stack. So, it escalated its acquisition up to the security protocol, and thought no more about it.
Somewhere around twenty kilometers due east of the official border of the Wasteland, a small circular door irised open on the side of a squat concrete bunker, and from it spat an autonomous scout drone. It was small, no bigger that a football, with a pair of air-breathing, micro-ramjet engines strapped to its sides. These had approximately 270 degrees of rotation, allowing it considerable aerial dexterity as well as the ability to hover in a stationary position if it so desired. Now, though, its mission was to seek out the data source that had disappeared into an electrical storm some forty minutes earlier. As it cleared the bunker, small, stubby wings extended from its lower body and its engines ignited, taking it higher. Finally, it adjusted its course vector, accelerated up to Mach 1, and headed directly for the Wasteland.
3
THE WASTELAND
Scott cycled through the airlock on the shuttle and stepped out onto a barren, desolate wasteland. Like the others, he was cocooned in a full EVA suit. Even though this was Earth, the radiation levels here were still very high from the nuclear war that had played itself out all across this area. The suit provided environmental protection, and had been modified specifically for this mission. Having no need to be pressurized, it was lightweight and flexible. Rain splattered his faceplate and began to fracture his view; he wiped a hand across it a few times to clear it. Even though the suits had been modified to keep them cool in the hot furnace that was Death Valley—as opposed to keeping the wearer warm in the cold vacuum of space—no one had considered, even on a wet planet, that it might be raining. He wiped his faceplate again and checked his readouts. Eight hours approximately, he thought. That was all they had in the tank. After that… Well, best not think too much about that.
They had landed in a wide, flat plateau tucked between several imposing mountains high up on the western edge of the central valley floor. To the west, only a short distance away, a craggy mountain range rose up and ran north until it was obscured by the low-hanging storm clouds. Scott arched his face up to survey the sky.
“Hard to believe this is Earth.” The sound of Dr. Stephanie Rayman’s voice echoed in his helmet.
“If it weren’t for the clouds and the rain, I would swear we were on Mars,” he heard Cyrus reply.
“Those clouds are the only thing keeping us from being spotted from space.” Scott swiveled his head to the south. “See that?” He pointed to a break in the cloud bank, where a pale blue patch of sky had broken through the storm. “The storm is passing, heading north. We need to get moving—by dawn tomorrow, this place will be back to being a furnace.”
“Hopefully we’ll be long gone by then,” said Spinner.
No one replied.
Their destination was the now derelict scientific research facility formerly owned and operated by Dyrell Labs, one of the lesser families on Earth. Their fall from grace was exacerbated some years earlier by Scott’s destruction of their ship in the Europa incident. Now all their assets, holdings, and operations had been subsumed into the much larger VanHeilding Corporation. Not that this mattered a whole lot to Scott and the team; their mission was simply to gain access to the facility and reconnect the QI, Athena, into the pan-solar quantum communications network. But to do that, they first needed to find a way in.
The facility had been built deep within an isolated mountain for a reason: security. So by design, it was not easy to gain access. But what compounded this problem further were the nuclear strikes that had occurred not far from this location. These had set off a chain reaction of seismic events that had effectively buried all known entrances to the facility in hundreds, if not thousands, of tons of rock. It was for this reason that the team had two experienced mining engineers with them: Spinner and Jonesy. It would be their job to establish the best access routes and then to blast their way through, if necessary.
As a consequence, the team had a considerable amount of specialist equipment, including high explosives that needed to be transported to the site. Fortunately, they had two semi-autonomous robotic mules to do this work for them. These were quadrupeds, and as such, well-suited to traversing difficult terrain. They stood around a meter high and were capable of carrying a considerable amount of weight. One of these mules was sufficient to carry all the mining gear, leaving the other to carry the EPR device that was to be connected to Athena, along with a satellite uplink that would be required for the QI to reconnect with Earth’s own comms network.
Spinner had one mule electronically tagged to his EVA suit, while Cyrus had command of the other. Being semi-autonomous, they would follow a leader, but in doing so, would also find their own preferred route across the rugged terrain.
As they all prepared to set off, Scott realized that there were a lot of unknowns. Would they be able to gain access to this subterranean layer, and if so, would Athena still be functioning? And even if all these things came to pass the way he had hoped, would the QI be as compliant and trustworthy as Solomon had claimed?
Yet all these questions were put to the back of Scott’s mind as he and the rest of the party got themselves ready to make their way across the valley floor to the edge of the mountain range. From there, they hoped to pick up the track of the old road that should lead all the way up to the gates of the old Dyrell research facility.
“Razzo, comm check,” Scott called for the shuttle pilot to confirm.
“Check, Commander. All good,” answered Razzo.
“You let us know the moment you have that bird back in the air. I don’t want us out here any longer than we have to be, you hear?”
“Will do, but don’t expect that any time soon.”
“Just do your best, that’s all.”
“You can be sure of that. I don’t like being exposed out here any more than you do.”
Scott signed off and turned back to check on the readiness of the team.
Cyrus stood beside him, staring off into the distance at something only he could see with his augmented vision.
“What is it, Cyrus? You spot something?”
“No, nothing. If there is anything up there, then it’s very far away. It’s just… I can’t believe this is Earth. I mean, look at this place. Not a single blade of grass, not even a stump. Nothing lives here—it’s like a dead planet.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t much better before the war. It’s hard for anything to survive here, radiation or not,” said Steph as she moved up beside them.
Scott had wondered why she’d wanted to come on this mission. She didn’t have to; there was no obligation on her to sign up. In fact, he had tried to dissuade her. Even though the mission planners had made it seem like a routine job, no more complicated than surveying a rock out in the Belt, Scott knew in his bones that a good plan rarely survives the first brush with reality. And here they were, already way off track. But she had never been to Earth. Dr. Stephanie Rayman was born on Mars and had spent most of her early life there before embarking on a medical career out in the Belt. So this was her chance, even if it wasn’t quite ideal, and who was Scott to prevent her from joining the team? In reality, he was glad she was here beside him.
As for Cyrus, Scott reckoned he had absolutely no concept of danger. Maybe it was as a result of living a life with augmented vision. Maybe he had convinced himself he had superpowers, that he was invincible. And so far, their luck had held up. They had been in a fair few scrapes together, a lot of close shaves and tight corners. Yet there was no one else that Scott would rather have by his side. Maybe he should tell him that someday—before it was too late.
But not this day. Today, they needed to get the job done, and maybe then he could find Miranda, even if it was just her resting place. For Scott, this was personal, as it had been right from the get-go.
“Okay, everybody, let’s saddle up and get this show on the road.” He waved a hand, and they headed off westward toward the edge of the plateau to a gap in the mountain range.
Progress was slow. Scott had reckoned they might make five kilometers an hour, but half an hour into the journey he realized that this was wishful thinking. The short walk across the flat, barren plateau had given him a false sense of their speed. Once they started the climb up along the mountain ridge, they slowed right down. The path was relatively easy, but the one-gee of Earth’s gravity was already taking its toll on Spinner and Jonesy. The two specialist miners had not anticipated a prolonged exposure, and certainly not a climb up the side of a mountain. So, after the first hour, they had barely covered three kilometers. At least the rain had stopped.
They decided to halt for a few moments under a rocky overhang. Scott sat down, resting his back against a smooth boulder. He reached into the front pouch of his EVA suit and took out a thin holo-slate, which he booted up and placed on the ground in front of him. A 3D rendering of the local topography blossomed out from its surface.
“Any idea where we are?” said Spinner as he lowered himself to the ground beside Scott.
“Here.” Scott pointed to a spot on the map. “Not very far. We’ve only covered three kilometers in the last hour or so.”
The miner shifted on the ground, trying to find a comfortable position. “This gravity is a bitch. I don’t know how anyone can live in it.”
Scott glanced over at him briefly before returning his gaze to the map. “We need to follow this path for another five kilometers. It’s a low-gradient climb, but after that we should intersect with the old road through the mountain to the front gate of the facility. Then we need to decide which way to go after that, depending on how much destruction has occurred up there.”
“Sounds peachy. Can we stop for a beer along the way?” Jonesy was lying flat on the ground, breathing heavy.
Scott ignored him. Instead, he noticed that Steph had not taken a rest, choosing to stand and gaze around at the broken and fractured landscape. No doubt this being her first time on Earth, it had a beauty that only she could see. She turned around, as if sensing Scott looking at her. “You know, this place is not as dead as everyone has made out.”
Scott took a moment to take in the tortured vista. All he could see was dust and sand and rock—pretty much the same as every other planet he had been on. But then, he wasn’t looking the way someone new to Earth might look. “What do you mean, ‘not as dead?’”
“If you look closely, you’ll see lichens and rugged little plants growing in the cracks and gaps. And there are insects, too, small and strange. I’ve seen quite a few.”
“Bugs?” Jonesy sat up and examined the ground around him. “I hate bugs.”
“What about the background radiation? I thought nothing could live here?” said Cyrus.
Steph checked a readout on the sleeve of her EVA suit. “Radioactivity is much lower than we had anticipated.” She looked up. “I’m not saying it’s healthy, just…” Her sentence trailed off as she seemed to catch sight of something in the distance. “Did you see that?”
This got everyone’s attention. Scott sat up. “What?”
“Over there, high up on that ridge. Some stones falling down like something disturbed them.”
No one spoke. They all strained to try to see what Steph had seen.
“I don’t see shit,” said Jonesy. “You must be hallucinating.”
Scott stood up and again scanned the ridge for any signs of disturbance. Spinner did likewise.
“Should we be concerned?” said the miner. “I haven’t got a clue about wildlife, but I’ve heard it can be dangerous.”
“Don’t worry—even if there are some animals out there, we’re more of a threat to them than they are to us.” Scott broke off his gaze and turned back to the team. “Okay, let’s get going. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”
As they slowly wound their way higher up along the mountain ridge, Scott began to realize that Steph was correct in her assertion that the area was not as dead as everyone thought. Vegetation was becoming more prevalent here; scrubby plants and cacti, and even fresh green shoots, had erupted to take advantage of the rain and moisture that the storm had brought. This seemed to delight Steph to no end, as she would wander off periodically to inspect some new and wondrous flora.
For his part, Scott tried to keep his eyes firmly on the road ahead, but every now and then a strange, uneasy feeling would get the better of him and he found himself scanning the upper ridges of the valley. Once or twice he thought he saw something—a falling rock, or a shadow—but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was just being paranoid. At one point, he stopped dead in his tracks and scanned a ridge high up on the opposite side of the valley, where he thought he saw some movement.
“What is it?” said Cyrus as he moved up beside Scott.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
“I hate when you say that, because in my experience it never turns out to be nothing.”
“Well, you could be right, Cyrus. But if it is something, I don’t think we need to worry about it.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“Because there’s never been anything bigger than a coyote in this part of the world, as far as I know.”
“You see, there’s the thing: ‘As far as I know.’ That’s the bit that worries me.”
Scott slapped him on the back. “Well, don’t. We have enough firepower with us to take out anything nature can throw at us.”
Cyrus didn’t reply. Instead, he turned his head and scanned the ridge. “It would be nice if we didn’t have to wear these EVA suits. That way we could hear if anything was creeping up behind us.”
“Yeah, I’m sick of hearing the sound of my own breathing,” said Jonesy as he moved up beside them. Scott could see that he was breathing heavy and finding the climb, coupled with the gravity, tough going. And it looked like Spinner wasn’t faring any better; the miner labored over every footstep.
Scott turned around to face the path ahead. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re almost at the old road, and it’ll level out then. No more climbing—should be easier.”
After a few hundred meters, Scott began to feel the path leveling out. Soon it widened, opening out onto the edge of a long, narrow plateau. Running along the center of this plateau was an old, two-lane blacktop that ran all the way up to the front entrance of the research facility. They rested for a while at the edge of the road beside a clump of tall Joshua trees that afforded them some feeble cover. Scott scanned the road ahead. What had once been pristine, tarred road was now fractured and broken, mostly reclaimed by dirt and sand. Small dunes rose along its surface, and here and there creosote bushes had already pushed up through the cracks.
