CHAPTER 8: Alliance
A vagrant breeze cooled Ganlon Station, swirling the collected dust from corners and crannies which had escaped the attentions of the maintenance robots. Kepren was the political headquarters of the Alliance and Ganlon was Kepren’s principal city. Once great crowds had thronged its gathering places. Here, too, had labored many of the cluster's great minds, energetically populating governmental and scientific installations both above and below ground.
Now no living beings dwelt there; only their machines remained behind. Those faithful servants had performed to the limits of knowledge and skill that centuries of creative talent had given them. Still, the unnatural calm spoke less of tranquil peace within the city than of the absence of vibrant life.
Far beneath Ganlon’s now deserted streets— and reachable only by an intricate series of rapid-transit passages and high-speed lifts— lay the Mathlen Science Center, the Cluster's premiere science installation. The deliberately labyrinthine route had been constructed to cloak the Center’s location.
Once the pulsing heart of Alliance scientific research and development, the Mathlen Science Lab's Command Center offered only a silent echo of the once feverish activity of its industrious workers. Mute evidence of their existence stretched away into the empty distance. Vacant seats, row upon row. Endless consoles, screens blank. Scribers in holders, untouched in years. All spotlessly maintained by tireless robots.
It was here that the first report of Chad’s disappearance had been received. And it was from this place that the signal had been sent, activating the crystal alarm and sending ADIZ on his crucial mission.
VSDI 473 energized a console connection and spoke. “Come in, Wasp.”
For this emergency, tachyonic communications were justified and the Wasp responded immediately. “This is the Wasp. Commander Vicklor Agriel speaking.”
“Commander Agriel, emergency operational procedures require a status update at this time. Two shuttles have been dispatched and should rendezvous with you in 67.73 hours. If you are able to regain spin control and exit the Wasp, the shuttles will provide rescue and transport to Kepren. Has your situation altered significantly?”
“No,” Vick replied, mentally adding, I wish it had. “All thirty-five of us are in good health, although the strain is beginning to show in small ways. We haven’t managed to deactivate the emergency lock-down, so we’re still separated into small groups that can’t reach each other. And until we get this infernal spin under control, we can't get outside to use EVA to reach each other.” He sighed. “With our course correction motors being damaged, being unable to access them for repair, and being locked out of engineering…well, we haven’t made much progress.”
VSDI’s calm computerized voice responded. “Acknowledged. Commander, it is my duty to inform you of the following points. Efforts are under way to recover the Fleet Admiral, although we have no word on the success of that mission. Further, regaining control of Wasp’s course correction systems is essential. In order to achieve orbital insertion about Kepren, Wasp’s velocity must now be reduced by 18.23 percent, and angle of approach must be altered by minus 1.624 degrees. If these modifications are not currently possible, incremental hourly adjustments of plus 0.438 percent and minus 0.039 degrees must be made. Orbital insertion will fail unless the Wasp’s combined maximum delta-v course correction capabilities are activated within 162.40 hours. Should no alteration in course and velocity occur, terminal gravitational attraction will occur between 270.9 and 271.4 hours from now. Exact termination time and location are still indeterminate, but precise data will be available by the next required status update.”
“Acknowledged,’ replied Vick automatically. Terminal gravitational attraction! Exact termination point! Nothing but sanitized scientific terms for the catastrophic collision of two astronomical bodies. Morbidly but irresistibly, he continued, running the data in his mind. The Wasp is a hollowed asteroid, five miles in diameter, massing over four hundred-eighty billion tons. Kepren is roughly 9000 miles in diameter. How fast would the Wasp impact if a collision can’t be avoided? Vick was not expert in celestial mechanics but realized that collision would occur at many miles per second. The impact would easily obliterate any large city, and might even devastate the planet! Either way, the Wasp…
Vick shook himself and disciplined his thoughts. This speculation is pointless! Another question was, however, critical. “VSDI?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“If planetary collision becomes unavoidable, can I order the Wasp destroyed?”
“Sir, you can give the order. However all missile launches would be aborted by Defensive-AIDDs.”
Vick thought furiously. Despite how advanced their artificial intelligence is, they're still bound by the basic laws of robotics: Any action to intentionally take the life of the living is prohibited, as is any willing inaction that allows life to be taken. They can’t take action to destroy the Wasp while we're on it, yet we may die anyway if they don't stop it. That could cause the AIDDs to lock up in a paradox loop. Is there any way to persuade these robots to push the button if all else fails? Despite serious doubts, Vick had to try.
“VSDI?”
“Yes, Commander Agriel?”
“On my direct order, will you destroy the Wasp if the crew can’t be removed?”
There was a distinct pause before VSDI responded. “No, Sir.”
The answer was terse. If VSDI weren’t a machine I’d think he’s tense. Vick knew he must try again. There has to be an answer!
“VSDI, can you rig a switch for me to launch the missiles to destroy the Wasp?”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Good! Get on it!”
“Certainly, Sir. However, I must inform you that if you activate that switch, I will have no choice but to initiate the destruct systems on the missiles long before they endanger anyone aboard the Wasp.”
“Shazz!” Vick canceled the order, slapped the connection off-line, and held his head in his six-fingered hands while savoring the sudden silence.