Chapter 3
December 2072 ~ New York City, New York
Ramon Solis had just turned forty this past week, and it had felt weird. It was as if he were standing outside his own body, looking at himself from a short distance, and not recognizing who he’d become. Somehow, and this had been coming for some time now, he felt estranged from himself. He knew he was having some kind of midlife crisis, but hoped he wouldn’t do something ridiculous, like buy a motorcycle or get a mistress, as so many others tended to do when they suddenly looked at themselves in the mirror and saw their own mortality staring back at them. His wife, two years younger, coped so well with his current weirdness; he wondered how she did it.
It was the quarterly meeting of the heads of some of the largest and most successful businesses in the country, and they were, as usual, gathered at the Havelar Industries headquarters in New York. His wife and daughter had followed him, to take the opportunity to enjoy some of the things that only New York could offer. Right now they were Christmas shopping, and later they would go to a Broadway show that he couldn’t remember the name of. As the other business leaders came in and sat down at the large conference table, Ramon found himself feeling a bit uneasy not having Isabella with him. They usually made all major decisions together, but she had wanted to spend some time with Maria this time. They needed to talk about college, she’d said.
Havelar Industries was one of several large corporations that had emerged within the last couple of decades to become the engine driving the new American economy, which had been struggling for years with competition from Asian and South American economies, especially after the fall of the Chinese communist party. Cheevo was another, and like Havelar Industries, Cheevo and several other corporations had gradually, over the last few years, grown into a network that also included the former Holloway administration, as well as Andrews’s current administration. Since most of the old antitrust laws had been largely abandoned, and private-public cooperative projects were now the model for the new American economy, the network wasn’t as much of a legal issue as it would have been in the twentieth or early twenty-first century. But still it was something that wasn’t spoken about outside the inner circle of the Consortium, which had become the unofficial name of the network.
The Consortium’s ties to government didn’t just mean large government contracts; it also meant a steady flow of information, sometimes long before the information reached the public, or even outer parts of the government apparatus. This was just another regularly scheduled quarterly meeting, and normally a representative from the government would attend, but Ramon was taken by surprise when the president entered the room. Right next to the president, a solemn George Havelar entered the room, followed by the secretary of the interior, the defense secretary, the national security advisor, the president’s science advisor, and at last a man he recognized as the old JPL Director Daniel Shaw. The president only attended the meetings himself when the topics were particularly important, and this unprecedented entourage indicated that this meeting would be something out of the ordinary. What in the world would make the president bring in the former JPL director? The Jet Propulsion Laboratory was but a shadow of its former greatness, an anachronism gathering dust out in Pasadena.
They all greeted each other with polite and sometimes warm smiles and handshakes, although Havelar, President Andrews, and his people smiled less than usual, and they all had that somber expression on their faces more commonly seen at funerals than business meetings in the new economy. Again, Ramon got a feeling that this was anything but a business meeting. And then another thing happened that was contrary to etiquette. When the president occasionally attended meetings of the Consortium, it was customary that he opened the meeting, before Havelar, as the elected chairman, took over. This time, however, it was Havelar who stood up and took charge.
“This is the most important meeting you will ever attend.” It was a short and blunt statement that immediately got the attention of every person in the room. Havelar let it hang in the air for a few seconds before he continued.
“What you are about to be told is the worst news you could possibly imagine, probably worse. I’m sorry about that. After you are presented with all the information that currently exists, we will have a discussion, a very important discussion. The results of that discussion will set the course for every corporation represented in this room, for the government, and for all our lives for years to come. It will be like a pact, and it will bind us all together, more than ever. I know I can trust you all to keep quiet about what is said in this room today. And when I say quiet, I mean it. Not a word to your wives, husbands, kids, your closest friends, anyone. Get it?” They all nodded, slowly. None hesitated about the secrecy; they just wondered what could cause Havelar to be so … Ramon was unable to find the right way to put it. He just got a very bad feeling about it all, and once again wished Isabella had been here with him.
“So, having said that, I’ll let the president’s science advisor tell you what’s going on.” He turned toward the short, balding man to the president’s left, whose ashen face matched that of his superior. “I can’t say I envy you the task, Harry, but however that may be, you’re the messenger ...”
The science advisor rose slowly from his chair, took out a small projector, and set it up facing the white wall at the front of the room, so that everyone could see. The first image to appear was one of a starry sky, with one tiny white dot having a red ring drawn around it.
“Ah … You’ve all seen this in the news for the last few weeks. This is Devastator’s position at the moment … What you see here isn’t 100 percent correct, as the image has been both enhanced and magnified. Devastator reflects very little light, and it’s hard to see if you don’t know where it is. For the time being.” He took a sip of water before he continued.
“As I said, you’ve probably seen a lot of these images on the news.” A new image appeared on the wall, this time of Devastator and the cloud of debris surrounding it.
“A week ago, we believed that Devastator would either find an orbit close to that of Mars, or be sucked in by the sun’s gravitational pull, and that would be the end of it. Now we know better. Devastator is on a spiraling course inward toward the sun. The bad news is that our orbit and that of Devastator will converge in a few years.” He paused for a second. When he saw that not everyone had realized what he’d just said, he rephrased.
“It’s coming our way, folks.”
Twenty minutes later, the presentation ended with the image of Devastator still projected on the wall, and Ramon couldn’t take his eyes away from that image of impending doom. The room had gone completely silent. Not even Havelar spoke. Finally, one of the other business leaders spoke, in a shaky voice.
“Is there anything we can do? What about our nuclear rockets, if we launched them all at once, maybe we could divert it? Or, I once saw a documentary about a scheme to divert comets with lasers …” He was abruptly interrupted by Havelar.
“Forget about missiles and fucking laser defenses. It wouldn’t even kiss the surface of this thing, and to divert it, we’d have had to discover it years before now. It simply can’t be done. So forget about all those fancy schemes. It seems a few other nations have seen what’s coming too, and they’re planning all kinds of futile countermeasures. In fact, the Chinese and the Russians are fantasizing about the very comet-diverting notion you just mentioned. I guess they’ve seen the same TV shows ... Ah, hell, as long as they’re not pointing those nukes at us … And while we’re at it, forget about holing up underground too; it simply will not make a difference either way. We’re talking earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear winter or whatever you’d like to call it. Shit, you name it, it’s coming.” As the message sank in, Havelar got up from his chair and walked around the table to stop right next to the JPL director. Ramon, having known Havelar for years now, knew that meant something. George Havelar never did anything unintentionally.
“Let’s
be clear about this, folks,” he continued. “There is no defense we could possibly put up that would stand a chance at stopping this fucker. All we can hope for here, what our survival as a species depends upon, is that the time we have and the combined resources of the Consortium and the government are enough that a small number, probably a very small number, can slip away. To where, and how, has yet to be decided. But as I just told you, what we should be thinking about here is the survival of our species. Most of us will die. If we can save a hundred or a thousand doesn’t matter. Of humanity, the billions left on earth will die. Their only motivation will be to save the handfuls that will go.”
A purpose then, Ramon thought. That’s what this meeting is about. Not just painting the face of doom up on the wall. Now, that’s the genius of George Havelar. While the president and his advisors were still recovering from shock, too stunned to do anything at all, let alone devise any sort of productive action, Havelar already had a plan in his mind. It was probably still just a loose framework, but the contours were there, and although bordering on impossible, Havelar never set out to do anything he couldn’t achieve. He undoubtedly already had dozens of people working on mission design, feasibility analyses, and so forth. Ramon smiled to himself, as he couldn’t help admire the absolute genius of the man who just a few years ago was featured on the front of Time magazine as Man of the Year. He turned from his inner musings to listen to Havelar again.
“Earth will be dead, one way or the other, in less than twelve years. So, basically, what we have to do is to build an ark. A group of carefully selected people in a large tin can, with the world’s most powerful nuke or some kind of sci-fi rocket strapped to their asses, will be catapulted into space to find somewhere to settle down, to build a civilization from scratch somewhere on some distant rock.” He paused as he took a deep breath.
The security advisor, a clean-cut man in his forties, of military bearing and demeanor, opened his mouth for the first time. When he did, his voice was steady; he seemed determined to assess each angle, and Ramon immediately took a liking to this man. Actually, the man surprised him, because most of the government types had seemed more or less paralyzed.
“That is, if we can get there before the ship breaks down.” He looked around at every one of them, and made sure he had their full attention, before he continued.
“You know, there are myriad details, and a small failure in any one of them would mean certain death. Unless we can think of it beforehand and make sure it doesn’t happen.”
The science advisor cut in, still sweaty from his presentation, but with a determined look upon his face. He pushed back his glasses that constantly threatened to dive off the tip of his nose, yet that very move made him seem a lot more comfortable now.
“We’d need multiple redundancies in most areas just to stand a decent chance of surviving even the smallest unforeseen event.” He scribbled a few hasty notes on his tablet and continued hastily.
“And the time frame limits our options dramatically. Sure, we might be close to a breakthrough in FTL travel, biotech might in just a few years expand a human life span to be several times what we consider natural age today, and the latest surgical techniques suggest ways of halting metabolism in such ways that people could literally be frozen for centuries before being revived whenever the ship arrives. But as you all know, we don’t have the luxury of time.
“We need to determine how long we can reasonably expect to have to develop our solution, because at some point we’ll see a lot of obstacles appearing. One of those obstacles will be the political situation, should all this come out. Who knows whether a ship with just a select few people on board would even be able to launch once people realize they won’t be among the few who will go? There is no telling what the situation will be when people get desperate. Most of you will probably think we should use what we’ve got, and get off the planet A.S.A.P., just to make sure. That would be a grave mistake.” The security advisor nodded, as did a few others, while most stared quizzically at him.
“But what if we wait too long?” one of the Consortium members asked. Ramon could see the point. What if some event made launch impossible, what would be the cost of that compared to having to solve a few problems en route? The science advisor just shook his head though.
“No, no, no. Leaving too soon is the worst thing we could do. On the contrary, we need to wait for as long as possible. Every day we have before departure will pay off in scientific knowledge, technological development, training, planning, preparing, etcetera. In space, resources are limited, and improvements will be much more difficult. Here, we still have abundant resources, much of the world’s scientific and technological community at our disposal, and the luxury of making mistakes. We can take risks that would be impossible in space, and instead of a few hundred brains we have millions.” Havelar interceded, obviously playing the devil’s advocate.
“On the other hand, if we’re not ready in time, we lose everything ….”
The science advisor nodded at Havelar’s remark and concluded, “So there is a need for balance, we need a timeframe that gives us the advantages of Earth-based R&D and production capacity, and at the same time allows those lucky few to get away before it all breaks down. Whatever we do, we cannot allow any one single issue to bog us down. Above all, we need forward movement. What we know is this: Impact will most likely happen approximately twelve years from now. Some of the effects of the close encounters prior to impact will hit us within eight years.” Not very long, Ramon thought, to figure out how to send a viable population to another planet, build the necessary vehicle for transport, launch the ship, and wave good-bye.
“Somewhere in between years eight and twelve, we will encounter our point of no return, the day when we can no longer launch, and all our efforts will be in vain. If that happens, all we can do is pray.” As the science advisor fell silent, Havelar again took charge.
“All right, so Devastator will hit us in a little more than a decade. Whether anyone survives the impact is a toss of the dice; the scientists cannot yet say for certain. But however that plays out, the destruction will be … well, impossible to describe … Mankind will most likely not survive the long-term effects, so it is up to us, here in this room, to make a plan that may save a tiny fraction of our species.” This time, everyone nodded, some eagerly, and some still recovering from the bad news. Ramon again noticed that the president himself had been mostly passive, as if his mind was elsewhere. Now, President Andrews rose from his chair, and to everyone’s surprise held up a piece of paper, as if he had already written a script that he intended to follow. Ramon was disturbed by the sight. Hadn’t he listened to the others at all? The president began, and it immediately became apparent that he had a lot of concerns that had little to do with the task at hand.
“When NASA so horrendously failed at sustaining the Mars colony, it was merely the culmination of various missteps that had been going on for decades. Even the successful first manned flight to Mars couldn’t change the fact that NASA had become a symbol of the past, of the weaknesses and lack of vision that so entrenched this country for years, and that the terrorists took advantage of. All those things happened before the reforms that ended bureaucratic practices. And those reforms made it possible for decisive men to take charge and save this great democracy from its enemies, foreign and domestic.” This was the official version of history these days, and something Ramon had heard before. He’d never quite become comfortable with those views, even if his own success had been built upon that of the reformed American government. And whatever he felt, he still couldn’t see the relevance to the momentous efforts ahead. NASA was long dead, and to gather the expertise necessary for this, they would have to look elsewhere.
“The truth about Devastator is only known to a few people in this country, and for the time being, let’s keep it that way. However, there are others who are already moving on this. As mentioned already, the Chinese and Russians are cooperating on a
scheme to divert the course of the planet. And to no avail. They will fail miserably, have no doubt about it, and when they realize that, they will see that they have spent all their resources and gained nothing. The other great powers are somewhat of a mystery to us; we know that things are stirring in India, and they have extracted most of their best scientists that were working abroad, in the U.S., Europe, and South Africa. Clearly they intend to mount some kind of effort, we just don’t know what. With their security policies, the Indian flow of information is close to zero. As for Brazil, we think they might do something similar to us, but they are being unusually tight lipped about it. The only ones we currently have an open channel to are the Europeans. ESA already have a team working on planetary habitability, trying to find a viable target planet, and we expect that they will soon be a full partner in our venture.” The science advisor nodded, as did several others. They all knew that when NASA was disbanded and the study of space generally fell into disgrace, astronomy was one field of research that had lost influence and support in the United States. ESA had gone the other way, increasing their funding of astronomy programs, and were years ahead. Without their cooperation, any American mission would for all practical purposes be blind.
“The one thing I am skeptical about when it comes to the Europeans is the fact that they have very differing views on what to do with dissidents. There are elements in ESA that have been vocal enemies of our reforms, as if they had any right to concern themselves with our business. Clearly, they will have to be excluded from any joint projects. We don’t want their destructive views to spread.” The president let the sentence hang in the air, while silently challenging anyone to disagree. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken up about the kind of institutionalized paranoia the president seemed to display, so no one said anything. President Andrews, satisfied with the silence, continued.
“All right, so we need to maintain a level of security here. We will not share everything with the Europeans, but to obtain their cooperation, we need to reserve some seats on the spaceship for them. And we will make sure that their candidates go through the same selection process as our people, so that dissidents and leftists are properly weeded out. There have to be some of their candidates we can approve of; they’re not all bad, thank God. As for our American candidates, we’ll perform thorough background checks to make sure we only send loyal people of like mind to build a new world. That same standard also has to apply to everyone working on the project, and especially the ones in charge of selecting the right candidates.” Ramon noticed the national security advisor raised an eyebrow, before his face quickly became as blank and unreadable as before. The president walked over to where Daniel Shaw, the former director of JPL, was sitting and put his hands on Shaw’s shoulders.
“Some of you may already have recognized Daniel Shaw, former director of JPL of Pasadena. JPL will play an important role, as it has done in several previous space endeavors of this country. When Congress investigated the Mars incident, JPL was shown to have foreseen ,many of the weaknesses that caused the mission to become such a tragedy. It was one of the few institutions involved that was not prosecuted or disbanded in the aftermath.” He paused, and then smiled.
“When all that happened, Daniel was just a rocket engineer, of course, but he later came to be director, and his legacy is that of several successful military applications of the technology developed out in Pasadena. He’s also a friend of mine, and one of the people I would trust with something as important as this. He will be in charge of the project and report back to me. The Consortium will be an advisory board that will be consulted on all major decisions. There will be plenty of work, and I expect each of you to already have some idea as to how your companies can contribute. If you have anything urgent, take it up with George.” He nodded at Havelar, who nodded in acknowledgement. One of the business leaders, Dana Fuller of the high-tech Quantum Industries, raised her hand slowly, then spoke.
“We need to have a name. I guess we could just call it the project …” Havelar shook his head.
“Of course we need a name. A name that says something of the magnitude of the challenges we’re talking about here, of the importance. To help us stay inspired.”
“Exodus,” Ramon said quietly, then as the room fell silent, he looked up to see everyone looking at him.
“That’s what this is,” he said, and several nodded, others murmured agreement. The president smiled; he was known to be a religious man.
“Exodus it is.”
December 2072 ~ New York City, New York
There was just a week left until Christmas, and Ramon knew it would be very different this year. Even though they had all pledged not to reveal anything to their families, spouses included, Isabella Solis, as much CEO as her husband but for the title, was the sole exception. But both knew their daughter had to be spared the burden of this knowledge. As a teenager, she had enough on her mind. Still, Ramon wondered what it would be like celebrating Christmas while knowing the world would soon come to an end.
Two days had passed since their last meeting. They were sitting around the same table, almost all the business leaders and the same representatives from the administration, except the president, who had to maintain an appearance to the public as if it was all business as usual. In addition, there were several scientists. Director Shaw had brought several from JPL, some former NASA people, and even a couple of astronomers from ESA who looked mighty jet-lagged. Ramon had brought his wife, Isabella, much to the dismay of Havelar, who agreed with the president that as few as possible should know, including family. Ramon had pushed it through though. Even Havelar had to give in to the fact that, although Ramon Solis was CEO of Cheevo, Isabella had always been a part of the Consortium meetings, speaking on Cheevo’s behalf with as much weight as Ramon.
The meeting had begun half an hour ago, with a recap of previous events and the decision to establish Project Exodus. They all knew they were talking about sending people off Earth to make sure humanity could survive. But the details were blurry, as most of them had no idea where such an expedition could go, and few knew much about space at all. So the goal for the meeting was to come up with options for the scientists to continue working on.
As the walkthrough of the estimates for how Devastator would behave in the coming years drew to a close, Havelar again took charge, and repeated the question they were all pondering.
“So where do we go?” He looked at each and every one of them, and let the question linger for a moment before he continued.
“A viable Mars settlement was always the goal, and for all practical purposes the final destination for most of our space endeavors, at least before we disbanded NASA. After that … well, it was irrelevant. But now that Mars is gone, what options do we have?” One of the former NASA people, Dr. Jacob Grant, a gray-haired man who now worked in the civilian satellite business, spoke first.
“Let’s look at it this way. First, we need to explore the possibilities within the solar system. I mean, that’s obvious. With current technology, anything else is a pipe dream. Second, further out, the stars. Of course, we’re not able to do that today or tomorrow, but let’s consider it anyhow. We’re sort of brainstorming here, folks, we should look at every option, realistic or not. And besides, they didn’t have the technology to send people to the moon in 1961 either. But they did it.” One of the business leaders, looking rather puzzled, interrupted him.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking here, but I just don’t get it. The solar system? Where? With Mars out of the equation now, I can’t see where that would be.” Grant smiled and nodded slowly.
“Actually, you have a point. It may not be possible to live anywhere else in the solar system. What I said was that we need to explore the possibilities, then take care of the obstacles, or rule out the reckless and the impossible.” He sipped his water while the business leader quieted down.
“So, the solar system.” Grant continued. “First off, we
will need some way of harvesting resources, since supplies from Earth will not be an option. That makes Earth orbit a bad choice. The moon could be a possibility. It has encrusted oxygen, and minerals, all of which could be mined. The problem is that the moon has no atmosphere and very little water. Those are critical factors when it comes to long-term survival.” Ramon looked over at Havelar, who seemed disinterested and a little annoyed at this point. Grant though, was clearly unaffected, and from the looks of the other scientists, his opinions seemed to carry a lot of weight.
“We could also imagine something like a space station, in orbit somewhere further out, or some kind of free-flying settlement in space.” Eric Sloan, one of the engineers from JPL, shook his head while waving a finger back and forth, almost admonishing. A crinkle in the corners of his eyes, though, let anyone who bothered to look see that he was simply following Grant’s line of thought.
“Let’s not go down that road, Dr. Grant,” said Sloan. “We could barely maintain the orbital stations, and we still had the luxury of ground supplies … We are simply not capable of building lasting, closed life-support systems. There will always be losses, and faults, and unforeseen contingencies. Eventually it will break down. What we need to aim for is something that will last long enough to get us somewhere.” At that point Isabella surprised her husband by speaking.
“So, we need supplies, resources. That means planets, right?” That was Isabella Solis; quick to draw the conclusions, and not wasting time on further discussion when the outcome seemed obvious. The president’s science advisor cut her off though.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, people. We have other options, so please let Dr. Grant continue.” Grant smiled at Isabella before he continued.
“Oh, I think both Dr. Sloan and Mrs. Solis make good points. So no space habitats; we need to be able to replenish our resources at some point. The planets are an option, so are some of the moons orbiting Saturn or Jupiter. NASA found evidence of organic compounds on Titan …” He halted, as a red-faced Havelar stood up and motioned for them all to stop talking.
“Goddammit, you guys. What the hell are you talking about? You all seem to forget one simple fact; we’re human. We need open spaces, land to build upon, to multiply, to expand. Remember, this is about a new beginning, not finding some dark hole to hide out in. We should be looking at ways to create a possibility for life, not just some meaningless existence.” Grant nodded, then several others followed suit. Ramon thought Grant looked like he’d planned this all from the start, and now he got to conclude his own line of reasoning, with all the downsides to the alternatives covered.
“I think it’s safe to say now that we need to find a planet or a large moon which is Earth-like. I’m talking about size, gravity, temperature, water, oxygen, and atmosphere. With an atmosphere we don’t have to wear pressure suits, although it doesn’t have to be breathable. So let’s be clear here. There is nothing remotely like that in our solar system, except Earth. So we’re not talking about the solar system anymore. We’re talking about sending a spaceship to some star system light years away. We’re talking about a new Earth and a new beginning for mankind.” The point seemed to sink in with everyone in the room now. Man had never travelled to the stars before, and now, as the survival of mankind itself was under threat, they would, in just a few years, send a starship on a one-way journey into deep space to find a new home for the survivors. The dimensions were staggering, and Ramon thought it all seemed surreal. Sloan from JPL again shook his head as he raised his concerns.
“I think everyone should be aware of the difficulties we’re looking at here. There are so many questions that need answering. Where do we find this planet? How can we be sure it has all the properties we need? And what about space flight? We haven’t even touched upon that. We’re not talking chemical rockets here; we have to come up with entirely new methods of propulsion, and fast! How fast? Is it at all possible to come up with a way to travel to the stars? The engineering issues here are huge!” Havelar nodded at Sloan, a wide grin spreading across his face while his eyes got that look they often did when confronted with an obstacle no one quite knew how to handle.
“It’s all frontier work from here, folks.” He looked around, then at his watch, and smiled.
“I think we all need a break. This is a lot to take in, and I’d like us to address the issues one by one, or we’ll get nowhere.” Ramon and Isabella looked at each other. Isabella voiced a name with her lips, and Ramon found he’d been thinking about it, at least subconsciously, since he first heard what would happen on Earth in just a few years. Maria.