NaNoWriMo 2014, Day Twenty-Seven

Thanksgiving. I hope it was a great one for you if you’re in the US. If not, happy Friday-eve!

Still plugging away, making notes on how this turned into such a train wreck. Sorry, a “learning experience.” So start learning!

While I normally put in a lot of  internal links to previous, related posts here, I won’t be doing that for what I hope will be this year’s thirty NaNoWriMo posts. If you have jumped into or stumbled onto this story in mid-adventure, there are plenty of other ways to navigate around the site to find previous installments. Actually doing so is left as an exercise to the student.

CHAPTER NINE (continued)

Like beads on a string, separated by 500 to 600 kilometers, the four spacecraft remained mute.

“SYMBA,” Garcia said, “are those ships being autonomously guided or are they under remote control?”

“They are autonomous, Commander Garcia, there is no sign of any radio traffic from the ground directed toward them.”

“Is it possible that they’re being controlled from somewhere up here?” asked Hermans. “Please check to see if you can detect any radio transmissions from anywhere else directed at any of those ships.”

“I will expand the scope of the reconnaissance, Mister Hermans, but a preliminary examination shows no traffic in or out of those vessels from any direction, except for the demands for communications which we are sending to them.”

“Those ships must have abort modes and override protocols that would let them be remotely piloted in the event of an emergency,” said Louise. “Is there any chance that we could access those and gain control of them?”

“No ma’am, those codes are heavily encrypted,” said SYMBA. “While those overrides do exist, in order to prevent any possible hacking or terrorist activities they are unbreakable.”

“So we’re just going to sit and watch to see what they do next?”

“Not quite,” Hermans said. “We’ve got the information on the nearest intercept assets available. They’re the ones we started moving weeks ago when we had another crisis, and that may tell us where they’re going. One of the stations in their current plane is the abandoned SpaceChem Delta station.”

“What’s the status on that station now?” Garcia asked.

“It has been untouched since its crew abandoned it,” said SYMBA. “We continue to get routine maintenance telemetry from the onboard command and control system, which show it to still be functioning and maintaining life support functions.”

“Do we know if it still has fifteen bodies aboard and what condition might they be in now?”

“Negative, Commander Garcia. We did not receive any information from the three survivors of the disposal or status of the remains of their crewmates. It is possible that they were jettisoned before the station was abandoned, or they may still be onboard.”

“If that’s their plan and all of our warnings haven’t stopped them, they’re not going to be put off by a handful of decomposing bodies,” said Louise. “Neil, specifically, what kind of assets do you have available to intercept?”

“We have a number of converted inter-orbit robotic shuttles. They’ve been modified to navigate under direct control by either SYMBA on LEO or DEBBIE on GEO. We’ve also taken off most of their mass, including almost all of the fuel tanks, so they should be harder to spot if we have to send them in.”

“And what’s the plan if they’re used?”

“They’ll be maneuvered in to grapple the vessel and immediately do a re-entry burn. Their engines are much bigger than any of the orbital maneuvering thrusters on those ships, so they should be able to make sure it goes down. Once there’s no chance that the ship can maintain orbit or come back up, we’ll release it and they’re on their own to take their chances on how and where they land.”

“So we could be dropping them into the middle of the Pacific Ocean or the middle of the Himalayas?”

“Yes, but we don’t have the luxury of playing nice. The other option would be to simply ram them with the modified tugs, which would kill everyone onboard immediately. At least this way we’re giving them a chance.”

“Amanda,” said Garcia, “is Mike available to get in on this discussion or are we going to do it ourselves?”

“Mike’s just gone down for a mandatory eight hours of sleep. I would wake him if alien starships showed up, but not much less. He’s been stretching himself pretty thin. What’s your plan here?”

“First, I want Neil to get those attack tugs moving. If we need to use them I want them five minutes out, not five hours. Then I want to see if they’re really going to SpaceChem Delta station. If they even look like they’re going anyplace occupied or where they could start a quarantine breach, we’ll splash them. But if Delta is their destination, we’ll see if somehow we can talk to them about it.”

“I agree,” said Louise. “If Delta’s their target, it’s very unlikely that it’s a random choice. But I don’t like that they’re not communicating.”

“Ditto. Neil, move your attack tugs to be able to intercept them as quickly as possible if we give the word. Oh, if this progresses and we have to deal with more than their shuttles, could the tugs de-orbit something the size of Delta?”

“If properly positioned, yes,” said Hermans. “With the smaller vessels we’re assuming we can latch onto them any way we can and still be able to outmuscle their onboard systems. For something the size of the station, we would need four or five tugs all lined up on the velocity vector, so we couldn’t just grab it at random. But we could slow it enough to drop it out of orbit in a few days.”

“For something the size of Delta,” said Louise, “it would be preferable to have some control over where it comes down. Big pieces of it will make it to the ground. They’ve got enough problems down there, they don’t need us dropping something that big on a city and wiping out what survivors there are.”

“We’ll do what we can,” said Hermans, “but if it comes down to a few of them or all of us dying, it might have to be a few of them. Moving the tugs now, BETTY has control of them. SYMBA, please monitor and be ready to take over if there’s any interruption of the data link up to GEO.”

“Yes, Mister Hermans. BETTY and I are in close communications.”

“SYMBA,” said Garcia, “in the messages you’re sending to them, ask if their destination is SpaceChem Delta station. Tell them that we need to talk to them immediately if that’s the case, otherwise we will be forced to take action against them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The 3D plot updated to show the positions of the stations in the same orbital plane as the new ships, with Delta station highlighted. In a few minutes it also began to show the group of attack tugs.

“I have an active communication link with the lead spacecraft,” SYMBA suddenly said.

“Put it up,” said Garcia.

A new window opened, showing a young man looking slightly queasy. Behind him the shuttle was packed, at capacity at least, if not packed beyond the normal maximum number of passengers. They all seemed to be flailing about in the microgravity, only avoiding violent bounces off the walls because it was too packed to travel very far.

“Unknown spacecraft, this is Alexa Garcia, commander of LEO Terminus Station. You are flying an unauthorized vehicle in a strict quarantine area and endangering the lives of tens or hundreds of thousands of people. Please identify yourself and state your intentions.”

“Commander, I am Juan Castillo, lead scientist and commander of this mission. We have no intention of endangering any of your people or your facilities. We understand your situation and your quarantine procedures and we will not violate them.”

“You already have violated them by launching with no notice and entering orbit. What are you doing up here and why shouldn’t I force you back down to the surface?”

“I apologize for that, it was necessary in order to put our resources together to enable this launch. I will be glad to discuss the current situation on Earth at some time later so you can become familiar with how bad it’s gotten, but right now I’m trying to take our last best chance at solving a much bigger problem. But we will need your help.”

“Of course you will. You still haven’t told me who you are.”

“We’re all medical researchers. We’re some of the few that have survived AHF. We are all either naturally immune or we’ve recovered from our infections. We understand that we can infect you, which is why we will not break your quarantine. But we have to have someplace where we can continue our work on finding a cure and a vaccine for AHF, and that’s no longer possible down below.”

“So you’re going to set up shop up here? How do you plan to do that?”

“As you have surmised, we wish to dock with the SpaceChem Delta station. We know that it has been abandoned but is still functional. The two cargo shuttles with us contain all of the equipment and supplies that we could pack into them. We want to convert Delta station for use as our medical research facility.”

“Mister Castillo, under our current regulations I can not allow you to stay in orbit where you and your people will always pose an significant danger to all of our people.”

“Commander, first of all, it’s Doctor Castillo. I was head of the immunology research division at Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile in Santiago. Except for our pilots, all of my companions are medical researchers as well. We have all either lost our families to this plague or we have left them behind to fend for themselves.

“We have researchers from the United States, Europe, and Asia in our group. What little is left of the military forces and governments of Earth has put us together and found the resources to launch us. We will be the last launch for a very long time, and if we are unsuccessful we will be the last launch forever off of Earth. We will do whatever you require to meet your security and quarantine concerns, but we can not be sent back down to Earth.”

“Doctor, I appreciate the effort that’s been put into your mission and I don’t doubt that conditions on Earth are as bad as you say. But I have no choice in the matter, our quarantine regulations have been established to prevent all of our off-Earth civilization from being dragged down with the governments that have already collapsed on the surface. I’m sorry.”

“Commander, you do have a choice and I’m begging you to consider it carefully. We know that the Delta station is unoccupied. We can use it without having any contact between us and your people. The only assistance we will require from you will be remote, information and technical assistance, as well as supplies to keep us functional and alive. But those shipments will be one-way only, from you to us, and the supply craft will be sent down to the ground after we’re done with them. There will never be any contact from us to you until we are sure that we have a cure from this disease and you are convinced that your quarantine can be lifted.”

“Stand by, Doctor. Under no circumstances are you to attempt to dock or come in contact with any other vessel, including Delta station. Is that clear?”

“Yes, commander, we will stand by and not dock.”

SYMBA muted the connection, leaving the silent video from the refugee vessel on the wall.

“Amanda, Neil, any comments?”

“The regulations are clear, Alexa,” said Louise. “They can’t be up here.”

“The regulations are clear, but if what Castillo is saying is true, he’s probably correct about this being their last chance, which could mean that it’s our last chance as well. We’ve be so focused on our own survival after the ground went radio silent that we’ve forgotten what’s below us. All of the resources we need are right there, if we can find a way to not be contaminated by them.”

“If I may comment,” said SYMBA, “another factor is the fate of all of the surviving humans and AIs on the surface. While systems may have collapsed and it may be chaotic on a gross scale, there are still billions of people alive down on Earth, thousands of times our population. If Doctor Castillo’s group is able to find a way of saving them then the rebuilding can begin on Earth, which can only benefit our chances of survival.”

“SYMBA,” said Garcia, “is that just your opinion or is that coming from other AIs?”

“I am in contact with the AI Council and I have taken the liberty of updating them on this situation. There has been little time for analysis, but we believe that allowing Doctor Castillo’s group to proceed more than triples our chances of long-term survival off-Earth. We believe that it will be possible to keep them under strict control on Delta station and maintain our quarantine.”

Garcia thought about that for several long minutes.

“SYMBA, put them back online.”

Garcia waited for the connection to be reactivated.

“Doctor Castillo, your four ships have permission to dock with the SpaceChem Delta station. You are required to stay in permanent, constant contact with LEO Station and my staff. We will work with you to establish regulations regarding your activities. You will allow us to attach equipment to both Delta station and all of your ships which will allow us to terminate your orbital activities at any time. Any violation whatsoever of our orders will result in your group being immediately deorbited. Is all of that clear?”

“Yes, Commander, thank you. We will do as you say. Thank you, you may have just saved what’s left of Mankind.”

“Or condemned it,” Garcia muttered under her breath.