Galen considered Paddy, his eighty-three-year-old Irish colleague. While his bark was worse than his bite, he couldn’t imagine him being involved in anything illegal. Then there was Maria, his Argentinian co-worker whose positivity and gentle nature were not obvious traits of a double agent. After years of ignorant bliss, his father’s paranoia was finally rubbing off on him.
Time was getting on. ‘Dad, I have to go.’
‘Fine, I’ll call you later.’ His father clicked off.
Galen glanced in the hall mirror and grabbed a comb from the hall table drawer. He ran the metal teeth through his unruly black hair. He should have got up earlier, given himself time to get ready. He pushed his hair back from his thin face and out of his closely set green eyes. He touched his hooked nose and, not for the first time, considered altering it at one of the genetic manipulation clinics. But his mother would never forgive the changing of a genetic trait passed down from her side of the family. His older brother had inherited the perfect Thompson genes: sandy hair, blue eyes and a perfectly oval face. Galen had been a quiet skinny teenager, the polar opposite to his sibling’s extroverted and popular persona. By the time Galen had reached his twenties, he had grown out of his awkward phase. Although he had gained bulk in his body, he still hadn’t developed the height or popularity of his handsome older brother.
With a quick stroke of his hand, Galen smoothed the creases out of his taupe uniform. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel from the replication machine. He took a bite out of the tasteless dough and looked around his loaned apartment. His home, his replicated food machine and the uniform he wore all belonged to the World Government. Very few people owned property unless they were the filthy-rich proprietors of subsidiary organisations.
He was grateful to be one of the lucky ones in finding a good place to live. A decent-sized apartment was difficult to come by, let alone one you didn’t have to share, but not when you worked for Air and Space Industries: a World Government subsidiary. Outside, hundreds of similar buildings lined the streets, all tall and narrow with dark, minimalistic, Japanese-style designs. The buildings stood unified like soldiers, while their foundations tunnelled deep into the Earth.
There were many rules to renting but some were stranger than most.
Only one visitor at any given time.
Children are not permitted to live in this block. Families were mostly restricted to one of the “child friendly” neighbourhoods. Galen and his brother had grown up in one of those in Boston, a place that packed families in so tightly, accidents and murders were common. It was usually over the little things, too, like hanging washing ten centimetres over the boundary line of a neighbour’s tiny yard.
You are not permitted to personalise the apartment’s interior. His father had thumbed his nose at this, and said the first rule was the government’s way of restricting movement and keeping an eye on the possible “free thinkers” in society.
Galen finished off his bagel. His father’s call still nagged at him. While he had grown up overhearing his parents’ theories on the World Government’s supposed plans, he’d been mostly kept away from the discussions. It had all begun when his grandfather had died in suspicious circumstances at a World Government-owned facility five years ago.
‘Workplace accident,’ said his dad, reading the top line of his own father’s death certificate. ‘Can you believe it? My father was one of the most conscientious employees at that shipbuilding company. Hell, he even designed the damn machine they say killed him. I just can’t believe it.’
The mystery surrounding his grandfather’s death still haunted Galen’s parents, but it had grown into a bigger conspiracy and cover-up involving the World Government and ESC. The interest in Galen’s docking station was the ESC’s latest obsession.
An alarm sounding in the distance broke Galen out of his thoughts. Still tired, he pulled open his apartment door. It might be another week before he’d see the inside of his apartment again. He popped an Actigen into his mouth; it would allow him to skip sleep for a few days. His body shuddered as the pill coated each fibre in an adrenaline-laced liquid. Employees at the docking station were encouraged to take the drug, even though there were legal limits on how long they could keep workers from adequate rest and recovery. The rules were often bent when Actigen was used.
He found a seat on-board the Maglev train, which was capable of speeds up to nearly eight hundred miles per hour. The journey between Richmond and HJA would take an hour.
His mother’s concerns over the ESC troubled him. She worked in a high level of the ESC and was privy to information others weren’t. There usually wasn’t any smoke without fire. Why was ESC so interested in the HJA docking station?
The train whined as the carriages levitated above the tracks. Galen saw nothing inside the dark tunnel except for the advertisements that ran the length of its walls. At first glance, the ads appeared to be static, but on closer inspection, they moved at the same speed as the train, which gave the illusion it was the carriage that was motionless.
He thought more about his co-workers, not convinced that any of them were involved in anything illegal. But ESC rarely showed so much interest in something—or someone—if there wasn’t more to the story.
Ten minutes before the train arrived at its destination, his earpiece vibrated. He answered it.
‘Galen. Is that you?’
‘Who else?’
‘Are you on a secure line?’
‘I’m on the train.’
‘Give me your identity code.’
Galen held his left thumb over the communication device and waited for the inbuilt scanner to check his ID. He heard a tiny beep.
‘Satisfied?’
Galen heard a soft click on the line. His father had secured it from his end.
‘Never. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now.’ His dad, an engineer, had applied to work at the same company his father had been employed by since his suspicious death. To say his dad was paranoid was an understatement.
‘Your mother and I need you to find out what memos the ESC has sent to the docking station. It should tell us who they’re looking at. Pay attention to your colleagues, in particular your overseer. He must know something. Report back as soon as you can.’
‘I don’t understand. Is this to do with the stuff with granddad?’
‘No. We think it’s connected to something else, something higher level. We’ve waited a long time for the ESC to trip up, to show us their true hand. They’re hiding something. The memos are a start.’
‘Can you tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for?’
‘We don’t know. The memos were sent over an encrypted channel. All we know is they were sent to your docking station. Often it’s in the guise of a letter, a warning. We want to know what’s got them rattled, that’s all. And please, be careful.’
Memos were sent to HJA all the time. Without knowing what to look for, what could Galen really do to help?
‘And how’s Paul helping in all of this?’
‘Your brother’s still in Cambodia doing important work.’
‘I’ll do what I can, but I’m not promising anything.’
Galen arrived at the Air and Space Traffic Control Observation Deck (ASCOD) with five minutes to spare before his shift started. He stepped inside the oblong room and checked for signs of Stuart McWilliams, his overseer. Several domed sections made of high-density glass formed the roofline. The three-sixty view of the area above them would have been a pleasant sight if the sun still shone bright. But in current conditions, all they saw was endless images of a broken city, smothered by low-lying black and grey clouds.
The wall panels containing computer visualisation screens each displayed different images: space debris, planets in the solar system, and the area immediately above Earth. The only sound was the almost-imperceptible beeps as fingers glided over the monitors at the workstations in the centre of the room. Reports were whisked away to a centra
l computer housed in a secure area of the HJA docking station. Maria and Paddy, two of his colleagues, stood in front of the visualisation screens, traversing the entire galaxy with a flick of their wrists.
Twenty people could work at full capacity, but just Maria, Paddy and a communication operative were on duty today. Galen wondered if his contact with other controllers had been an accident or by design. It was no secret that his mother worked at the ESC.
His mother’s influence at the ESC had fast-tracked his chances of securing a job at the HJA. Improved healthcare and genetic treatments leading to longer life expectancy meant it was harder to hold on to the better jobs. There were plenty of dead-end jobs available, but not for those like him with a high IQ.
Galen stepped further into the room just as his overseer emerged from his tiny office. While Stuart busied himself with Maria and Paddy, he walked over to the workstation area and ran his fingers along the white desks. Paddy relocated to a workstation to log the final report of his shift, not noticing Galen walking around the area to see if any of the monitors were live. It was a long shot but maybe Stuart had used one and left a memo open. Then he could finally quit his second job of acting as his parents’ eyes and ears.
Galen cursed his mother. Why had he allowed her to use her influence at the ESC to get him work? Now it seemed as if he owed her favours. He noticed one of the screens was active and was about to read the document on screen when Stuart yelled at him.
‘Galen, you bloody eejit, what are you doing?’
Galen’s face reddened and he backed away from the screen. ‘Nothing, Stuart. Just waiting for Paddy to finish, that’s all.’
‘Well, stop hovering. You’re making me nervous.’ Stuart shoved one hand into his pocket. The other twitched as if independent from his body.
Paddy looked up. ‘I’ve been waitin’ for ya, Galen. Come on!’
Paddy had always been honest about his preference for a quiet life; it paid less and controllers got fewer perks than overseers, but he said he never suffered with anxiety and regularly slept like a baby. Stuart once described Paddy’s personality as rough around the edges and difficult to control. The two men often came to loggerheads.
‘Are you finished logging your report?’ Stuart interrupted Paddy. ‘Because don’t swap over unless you are.’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Paddy. As soon as Stuart turned his back, Paddy gave him the finger.
Strangely, Galen found both Paddy and Stuart easy enough to work with. He admired his overseer’s affinity for hard work and his sharp-tongued honesty. His parents talked in so much code these days that he preferred knowing where he stood with people. Stuart reminded him a lot of his old man: hardworking but without the volatile temper. Stuart was never afraid to make the hard calls. It was a job Galen hoped to do one day.
‘C’mon, boy,’ said Paddy. ‘I’m gettin’ weak with the hunger over here. Move your backside.’
‘I’m coming. Relax.’
‘Don’t bloody tell me to relax. I’m not the one who’s just had a nice twenty-four-hour rest at home. I’m dead on me feet. Come closer. I need to show ya somethin’.’ He continued to log his report as he spoke.
Stuart had disappeared out of sight; probably to get a coffee.
‘You look like you’re huntin’ for trouble today, lad.’
‘No trouble,’ said Galen. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’
Paddy barked a laugh. Galen wondered if Paddy’s grouchy exterior hid anything more sinister. He thought about the ESC memos again. He couldn’t quite see it, but maybe the old man was good at hiding his secrets.
Paddy flicked the monitor over to the duty changeover screen. Two thumb placeholders appeared. Galen placed his right thumb on one side and Paddy pressed his on the other. The system scanned their security chips. As Paddy stood up, his expression turned more serious. He spoke quietly.
‘Okay, there have been a few anomalies around a couple of the planets. Could be just space debris. There are also a few crafts arriving today. If you run into any difficulties, Maria will look after you.’ His elbow connected with Galen’s. He yelped as bone hitting bone sent a shockwave of pain coursing through him.
Maria turned away from the viewing screen. ‘Don’t worry, Galen. It’s all good. Nothing we can’t handle.’ She flashed a quick grin at him.
Galen rubbed the pain out of his arm.
‘What’s up wit’ you today? You goin’ soft on me?’ Paddy narrowed his eyes. ‘Got somethin’ to hide?’
‘No.’ Galen dropped his gaze to the floor.
‘Hmm, well in that case, we’re done here.’ Paddy picked up his DPad and stuck his private communication device into his ear. He pulled on his coat and flipped the hood up. ‘See you in twenty-four hours. Don’t screw anything up while I’m gone, newbie.’ He slapped Galen hard on the back and Galen staggered forwards.
Stuart returned with a cup of coffee. ‘Galen, I need you over here, now.’ He took a sip of the liquid and made a face. ‘I bloody hate this stuff.’
Paddy hummed a tune and skipped out of the door, probably giddy with the promise of sleep.
He repositioned himself beside Maria in front of one of the high-resolution viewing screens and sighed.
‘He doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way of having fun,’ said Maria. She wore her jet-black hair in a long plait, which hung down her back like a frayed rope. Her olive-coloured Argentinian skin offset the mandatory beige uniform.
‘I’m sick of being treated like a newbie around here. I’ve been here two bloody years!’
‘Something else bothering you?’ said Maria.
Galen looked away. ‘Just forget I said anything. I’m having a bad day, that’s all.’
‘He’s fond of you, you know. Thinks of you as the son he never had.’
That image coaxed a smile out of Galen.
He turned his full attention to the screens in front of him.
The satellites orbiting the planets could beam a clear view of the solar system on the visualisation screens. Three top-of-the-range satellites orbited the Earth, which gave them even sharper images of space immediately above its atmosphere. Galen checked the outlying areas of space where the passenger ships could potentially run into debris. Maria closely monitored his work. He couldn’t wait until the training phase of his job was over. Maria was fastidious in her attention to detail and she wasn’t afraid to tell him when he’d made a mistake. But in contrast to Paddy and Stuart, she was remarkably easy-going.
Maria was an attractive sixty-three-year-old and not short of admirers. The Glamour treatment offered at the genetic manipulation clinics had sliced twenty years off her appearance, but her deep-brown eyes revealed her true age. Galen watched her. At times she hated the attention she received from men, probably because of her sexual preferences. Paddy had told him her attraction to women was not decided at birth, but triggered by an event in her life; what that had been, he wouldn’t say. She always tried to dress in a way that didn’t accentuate her looks, but there was little she could do about her genetically determined Argentinian curves.
Maria caught his gaze and lifted a brow at him. He flushed and gave his full attention to the screen. Behind him, McWilliams’ impatience was building. His tongue clicked non-stop.
‘Earlier, Paddy recorded debris collecting in Section Fifteen,’ said Maria. ‘I’m going to need you to carry out a sweep of that area, near the rings of Saturn. We’ve been getting some strange readings from there all day.’
‘First line of defence, right?’ said Galen, smirking.
‘Yeah, like hell we are,’ said Stuart. He held his head in his hands. ‘Jesus, where did this headache come from? I can just tell it’s going to be one of those days.’ He stormed off.
There was a private joke among docking station workers that the controllers were the first line of defence for Earth if an attack ever happened. But Earth Security Centre’s collaboration with the World Government meant that the planet’s p
rotection would never be left in the hands of a trainee and a Level Three Air and Space controller.
Galen moved to a free section of the wall and began his search, using his body to control the images that sprang into life. One panel displayed real-time images of the Earth’s atmosphere; another was a zoomed-out image of the remaining solar system ready to be navigated. He circled both hands in an anti-clockwise motion to activate the zoom. The screen responded instantly and the visual increased by one thousand per cent. He traversed the solar system using his hands, slowing down and zooming in when he reached Saturn. He pulled his palms towards him, drawing the image in closer. He tapped twice into the air and closed in on the area of interest. As he flew through the rings of Saturn, he modified his search trajectory until he reached the correct section. He immersed himself in the image and pretended he was in space. Flying was all he’d ever wanted to do, ever since he was a child with a toy plane.
In Section Fifteen, Paddy’s logs showed up as a bright beacon of red. Galen struggled to see anything out of the ordinary.
‘What am I looking at? What did Paddy see exactly? Maybe the debris passed by, or could it be a faulty sensor on the satellite at Saturn?’
Stuart had returned and nodded. ‘Possibly a fault.’ He spoke to the communications operative. ‘Get the maintenance robots out there to check on the satellites.’
Galen conducted a full sweep of the system while they carried out their checks. He zoomed out until it filled just half of the visualisation screen. To the right of the great expanse, high-resolution images of Earth were contained in a single panel. As he worked he made a mental note to check the monitor in Stuart’s office on his next break for any ESC memos.
He concentrated on the slipstream paths, the same route the passenger ships would navigate when returning to Earth. With one due to arrive the following day, he needed to be precise in his checks.
‘Visual of recorded debris at coordinates 15.67, east of Saturn,’ Maria confirmed.