Communion of Dreams, page 3
Roberts shrugged his shoulders a little. “Fine by me. I’ll make sure to include you on the manifest, Seth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Roberts.”
As he left, the older man nodded to both Jon and Seth. “Let me know if anything else comes up. See you when the message from Titan Prime comes in.”
* * *
Jon had about an hour to himself, during which time he and Seth tracked down most of the additional personnel he thought would make a good group. Of course, he couldn’t tell them why he needed to interrupt whatever they were doing for a few weeks, but such was his reputation that most of them agreed to come to Toronto the next day for a meeting.
Just as he was finishing this work, Jen Grant came into his office, unannounced. She was dressed as he had seen her before, in a simple business suit of quiet grey tones.
“Well, Secretary Grant. Please, come in, have a seat.” Jon gestured to a chair.
“Shall we discuss security needs for this mission?”
“Certainly.”
“I have someone with me, waiting outside.”
“By all means, ask him in.”
Grant turned, stepped outside for a moment, reentered accompanied by a man, mid-30's, wearing the combat uniform of the NSA. “This man, Commander Anton Navarr, will be my Security liaison, and will be prepared for all contingencies. Commander, this is Jon Thompson, US Settlement Authority.”
“Commander,” Jon stood and shook the man’s hand. Their palmkeys met, but Jon received nothing. Military. Needed a special encryption to activate. Jon noticed the small bulbs of pinhead cameras under the man’s eyebrows. Also standard military cyberware.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” said Navarr.
They sat. Jon spoke, “so, what do you think are the necessary precautions we should take?”
Grant looked to Navarr, nodded. The Commander said, “I’ve reviewed the situation, and discussed options with Secretary Grant. We feel that the appropriate defensive capability can be met with a relatively small force, the placement of one moderate-sized fusion device in the vicinity of the artifact, and another significantly higher-yield device some distance away. As a final precaution, one of our transport vessels will be kept in low orbit, unmanned.”
Jon expected the fusion weapons, but the idea of using one of their few large transports as a crude plasma missile was a bit of a surprise. “Have you studied what effect the impact of a fusion-plasma drive into a planetary body would have?”
“Of course, sir.”
Jon sighed. Yep, that was their job. “And would anyone on Titan survive if such a thing were done?”
“Doubtful, sir. In fact, our models show that due to the reflective nature of the gel veins in the planet’s surface, there is a very high probability that Titan Prime would also be destroyed.”
The network of gel veins that ran through the moon seemed to provide some sort of protective bubble from the high energy fields of Saturn. The space station of Titan Prime was in orbit around the moon, close enough to stay in the ‘shadow’ it cast. Because of this effect, the Advanced Survey Array had been positioned at Titan Prime, combining a research facility with the support base for gel mining on the surface.
“Well, let’s avoid that, eh?” Jon tried a bit of a smile. He continued, “How many people will you need to have in your contingent?”
“Eighteen, plus myself, should be sufficient.”
“OK, fair enough. Owen Roberts will berth your troops, and handle your equipment.” Jon paused, “Ever been up there, Commander?”
“Not to Titan, sir. But I, and all of my people, have done a lot of training in space, including emergency survival on a small asteroid for a week.”
Grant spoke, “I believe that there is only one other matter to discuss. After consultation with the President, I have her Directive that the military force is to be placed under your joint control, gentlemen. You will need to agree on the use of any of the defensive capabilities, unless one of you is incapacitated, in which case the other has sole authority to act as he deems appropriate. Copies of this Directive, and all the supporting protocols, will be passed to your experts.”
“I don’t think that it will be a problem. Remember, all of this is pretty hypothetical,” said Jon.
“But if it becomes reality, you won’t have time to check back with us. It is a prudent precaution.” Grant stood. The two men followed suit. “I believe that it is time for the next transmission from Titan Prime.”
Chapter 2
“So that’s my report. There’s one other thing, . . .”
Susan Jakobs never had a chance to finish the sentence.
“Dam’ right there’s another thing. I want you t’ get those clowns off’n my claim.” A taut, leathern face fringed with white hair and the grey stubble of a sparse, neglected beard suddenly filled the screen.
Off camera, Jakob’s voice, a little exasperated, could be heard, “Dar, please. We discussed this.”
Darnell Sidwell pulled back from the camera, stood next to Susan Jakobs. “All right, all right. Well, I jus’ want t’ be clear ‘bout this. You people can come an’ look at it, an’ play your games, but it’s mine, along wit’ th’ rest of my claim.”
He looked as old as he sounded. Thin, but not yet fragile. Eyes still sharp and flashing. Shorter than the tall, plain woman standing beside him.
Susan glanced at him, looked into the camera and said, “I’ve assured Mr. Sidwell that his operation is safe, and that he will be handsomely compensated for any disruptions or inconvenience. In return for granting us access to the artifact, we will accommodate any reasonable requests he may have. Final disposition of the ownership of the artifact will have to be a matter for future consideration.”
Sidwell almost sneered at her, and as he left, said: “You sound like a ol’-fashioned lawyer. My contract says I own what I find on my claim. Yeah, you folks can come an’ investigate it, but you’re not goin’ t’ learn anythin’ I don’t already know.”
Susan watched him leave, looked back to the camera. “He insisted that he tell you himself. Since having his cooperation will allow us to move with a great deal more stealth on this matter, I figured that it was best to work with him. I’ll look forward to getting your next message. Titan Prime out.”
* * *
Jon replayed the entire report in his mind on his way home. Susan had done what she could until the research team arrived. Sidwell didn’t present any real problem; other than adding a bit of color to the expedition, Jon expected him to pretty much stay out of the way. Besides, Jon was looking forward to meeting the man again.
The car he was in threaded through the old suburban streets, past still vacant houses and the occasional empty lot. Following the great death of the fire-flu, many homes had simply been abandoned. Some burned down, or were in poor enough shape that they needed to be demolished. Most of the rest were stripped of anything of real value. As the car turned a corner, he saw the flash of a crude sign. Backing up, he looked at the sign again. In the headlights of the car he read the bold words RETURN TO EDEN!
* * *
Down at the end of a cul-de-sac was his family’s residence. A couple of the large, old homes which were built in the ‘90's served as the bookends of the compound, with additional structures between and behind them forming an open triangle. Group families of various configurations had become the norm in the few decades since the flu. Almost everyone who survived the flu was left infertile, even the very young, and the children who were born were themselves likely to be infertile. Children had become critically important, treasured above all else. Group families formed naturally as a way of raising more children in a secure environment, with shared responsibility. Those adults who were fertile came to be cherished and protected by the others. Couples still tended to pair-bond, as in Jon’s family, but formed a small collective, or extended family structure. In some ways it was an older form of the family, a survival strategy from deep in mankind’s racial memory.
The car pulled up to the gate of the compound. Jon pressed his palmkey to the ID-plate. The gate swung open, the car rolled inside, swung around to one of the open garage doors, and pulled in.
The house was dark and quiet. Jon figured everyone had retired some hours before. He went inside, was welcomed in the kitchen by two sleepy golden retrievers. They accompanied him down a hall and into a large room. There, a holo was playing above the projector in the lowered center of the room. Only two people were sitting in the room, lost in a large, comfortable couch.
Make that three. Judith, his formal wife, who was close to his own age, was nursing one of the family infants, a boy born just a few weeks previously. Though she had carried the child to term, she was only the host mother for another family member who was fertile but somewhat frail. Next to her was Lucy, the matriarch of the family. Sixty-two, she had been born prior to the turn of the millennium. Her eyes were a deep grey, and her voice carried the weight of all she had seen.
“Well, I’m surprised you’re still up.”
The holo went off, and ambient lights came on in the room. Jon kissed each of them lightly, plopped down onto the couch beside Lucy. He allowed himself to sink back into the cushions, his eyes half closing.
“How’re you doing?” asked Judith.
“I’m beat. Been a long day.”
Squeezing his hand lightly, Lucy quietly asked “So, what’s going on?”
Jon forced open his eyes. He touched the back of his hand, and felt the low static of their home security screen increase in intensity. Judith and Lucy looked to one another in mild surprise. “Well, I can’t tell you much, but something’s come up on Titan that requires me to go out with a research team. I’ll be gone a few weeks, probably.”
Judith spoke, “We knew something had to be up, since you came back so quickly.”
Jon nodded. “Yeah, this was completely unexpected. But it’s probably a good thing. It’ll be a chance for me to see things first-hand, spend a little time with the staff.”
Lucy just watched him closely, and Judith was silent for a moment, shifting the baby from one breast to the other. After completing this task, the younger woman asked “Will you be able to call?”
“Routine communications shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How soon will you have to leave?” asked Lucy.
“Day after tomorrow, though I’ll be at the office much of the time between now and then making arrangements.” Jon sighed, let his head fall back into the cushions of the couch.
Lucy and Judith exchanged glances. Lucy got up from the couch, took the infant from Judith. “I’ll get him burped and then tucked in. Don’t worry. You two go on to bed.”
Jon got to his feet, helped his wife up. “G’night, Luce.”
With a smile, she replied “good night.”
They went up to their room, just across from the nursery. They could hear Lucy putting the baby in his crib before they closed the door.
Afterward, as he drifted off to sleep, Jon felt something tugging at his subconscious. There was something there, a scratching, just below the threshold of awareness. It was almost like a dream, waiting for him, enticing him to hurry and sleep so that it could unveil itself. He gave in to the sensation, felt a familiar warmth touch him as he slipped into a deep, deep sleep.
* * *
He woke alone, to sunlight pouring in through his windows. Judith must have already slipped off to start her day. Enjoying the play of dust motes in the streaming sunbeams, he lay there. And as he lay there, echos of a dream came to him. Images only, though he felt that there should be a voice or some kind of music. A huge, ancient oak, bare limbs silhouetted against a red winter sky. The deep red of either early morning or early evening, he couldn’t tell which. Then that sky took on a deeper hue, becoming almost a reddish-brown, as it changed into the tholin-rich sky of Titan. Saturn rising, in a jumpy time-lapse sequence. And the last image was of Darnell Sidwell, the old man dancing in the open, naked and unprotected against the poisonous atmosphere, as Saturn fell from Titan’s sky.
He got up, showered and dressed, went downstairs to find breakfast.
Judith was there with her brother Dale, and Marti, the eldest of their children, all gathered around a table.
Judith looked up and smiled as he came into the room. “Morning, sleepyhead. Pull up a chair. We saved you some eggs.”
“But we made sure they were cold.” This came from Dale, with a smile.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Happy to help.” Dale stood and gave Jon a hug, grabbed the platter of eggs and stuck it in the warmer. “Want some toast with that?”
“Sure.” Jon poured himself a cup of coffee, sat next to Marti as Dale fixed toast and waited for the warmer to cycle. Jon looked over his coffee cup at the girl. “Hey kiddo.”
She smiled. She was 12 years old, all lankiness and angles. Dark hair and eyes, a touch of warm brown to her skin, from her biological mother. “Hey.”
Dale placed the now-steaming platter of eggs down on the table near Jon, and dropped a couple of pieces of toast on his plate. “Here ya go.”
Jon shoveled eggs onto his plate, spooned jelly onto his toast. “Thanks. Everyone else off already?”
Judith answered. “Pretty much. Rob and the boys,” they had two boys, ages six and seven, “are out in the greenhouses, playing in the dirt.”
“And Nita and Sally are with the babies in the nursery,” said Dale.
“Lucy?”
“In town gathering goodies for dinner, I believe.”
Jon nodded. He looked at Dale. “So, you have your thing in London tomorrow night, right?”
Dale was an atmospheric scientist, involved in trying to untangle the complex interactions between the greenhouse gases and the fine particulate matter injected into the upper atmosphere by the Asian wars. “Yeah. Keynote paper of the weekend.”
“Hope it goes well.”
“Thanks. Bit controversial, but that’s not a bad thing.” Dale sat back in his chair, now sipped at his own cup of coffee. He touched the back of his hand, and the house security screen became more opaque. “So, Judith told us a little about what brought you back so soon. Gotta go out to Titan, eh?”
“Yeah. I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”
Marti said, “But I thought you were on vacation?”
Jon shrugged a little. “Something came up. That’s the way it is.”
The girl frowned. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“This is one of those cases where fairness isn’t really an issue.” Jon paused taking another bite of his toast. “Tell you what, when I get back, I’m planning on going out to the Buffalo Commons for at least a couple of weeks. The weather will be nicer. Want to come with me, maybe for a few days?”
She considered this, nodded.
Dale reached over and tussled her hair. “Wow, you’re spoiled. Now, go get your things, and let’s get going. We’ve got a plane to catch.”
Marti got up, gave Jon a quick hug, and left the room.
Jon asked, “She’s going with you?”
“Yeah, I’m going to show her London after the conference is done.” Dale sat back, and considered Jon. “There’s something different about this time, isn’t there?”
Judith looked at Dale, a little surprised. “You see it too?”
Both men looked at her. Dale asked, “See what?”
Just then Marti came back into the room, suitcase in hand. “Ready.”
Everyone stood. Jon gave Marti a solid hug. “Enjoy the British Museum.”
“I plan to. What I really want to see is the Rosetta Stone, even if it is just a duplicate.”
Jon glanced at Dale, who shrugged. “Since when did you develop an interest in archeology?”
“I dunno. It’s just something that I dreamed about last night.” She took Dale’s hand, tugged on him. “Come on, you said we had to get going.”
“OK, ok.” He turned to Jon. “Take care, and keep in touch with us.”
“Will do. You guys have a good trip.”
“Thanks.” Dale looked to Marti. “Let’s go, punkin.”
The two of them left.
Judith and Jon sat back at the table. She looked at him. “Speaking of dreams, I had the strangest dream last night, with you in it. And I don’t usually have people in my dreams. Too literal. I stick with symbolic images and archetypes, for the most part. Helps me figure out my work.”
He looked at her. Unpretentious, long brown hair. Plain face. Full figure, though not overweight. Dressed this morning in paint-spattered overalls and an ancient sweatshirt.
Judith was a lucid dreamer, one of the relatively rare people who could become aware that they were dreaming, and then direct their dreams.
She continued talking, “But you were in it. And I couldn’t control the dream, just had to watch it, though I was conscious and aware that I was dreaming.”
“What was it about?”
“All I have are glimpses, sketches. But I remember that I dreamt, and that you were in it.” She picked up a peach from the bowl on the table. Rolling it over, back and forth from hand to hand, she studied it. Finally she bit into it, savored the sweetness, looked back at him. “Yeah, you were in it. Having some kind of trouble.”
“You’re just worried about my trip, that’s all.”
“No. I know worry, and how it feels in my dreams. It takes on a texture, grainy and hard. This was different. Plush. Soft, warm, thick. Almost blood-like. That much I remember.”
“What else?”
She bit again into the peach, thought for a moment, closing her eyes. “Music. Seems almost classical. But played by a simple, single instrument, some kind of woodwind. Light, playful notes, dancing like wind through a tree.”
Jon considered. “I dreamed of Titan, and a man I know there. Some of it sounds similar to what you describe. But I don’t recall having any sort of trouble in the dream.”
