| Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1 |
August 20, 2526. Domestic Affairs Administrator Clarita Moffett has been
tasked with a responsibility that goes beyond her scope. She is in charge of
the homeworld, not reaching out to neighboring worlds. But the Foreign
Policy Administrator was arrested, and whether you would agree with that
decision or not, it now falls on Clarita to figure this out. That’s okay,
it’s not like she’s utterly unprepared for this. She’s been talking to
people for a hundred and fifty years. All she’s doing is asking someone
she’s never met to possibly send a fleet of ships 13,000 astronomical units
away from their postings, completely unscheduled, and pretty much
immediately. There’s always been this sort of rivalry between their
colonies. It takes a negligible amount of time to get to Bungula from Earth,
so some Domanians have wondered why not just stop here? Reportedly, since
Rigil Kentaurus is more Sol-like, Bungulans have wondered why bother
stopping, when they could just keep going a little bit to them. Plus.
Bungula has been fully terraformed, and nobody can actually explain how.
Clarita opens her virtual eyes. This is a meeting space in a simulated
environment. Maintaining persistent quantum coherence isn’t all that hard
with today’s technology, especially given how close their two worlds are.
Even so, it’s a bland room with two chairs, and a table between them. It’s
also too hot in here. She removes her jacket, and looks around for a hook,
only now realizing that she’s using her game avatar, which does not appear
very professional. Too late. When she turns back around, she finds that
she’s not alone. “Oh. Sorry, Captain, I didn’t see you there. Thank you for
meeting me. I understand that you and your people have the data, but I
thought it was time that we had a real conversation. First of all, I’m
Clarita Moffett.”
“Reed Ellis, but I’m only an Executor,” he replies, shaking her hand anyway.
“Oh, forgive me, I—”
“The task was delegated to me, even though it is beyond my purview.”
“I’m in the same boat,” Clarita explains. She gestures towards the table,
and they both sit down. “I know this is asking a lot, but we no longer have
the infrastructure to reach orbit. Lower orbit objects—which were less
populated, thank God—were decimated when our normally thin atmosphere
expanded. Those in higher orbit are fine, but they can’t reach us. Our space
elevator, of course, was in geostationary, but it was pulled down when the
CME hit. We need help, and we believe that you can provide it.”
“We have a new elevator ourselves,” Reed says. “It hasn’t even begun
non-testing operations yet. I believe that we could spare it, but I would be
fighting an uphill battle. I know the people that I work with. It took a lot
of us to procure some...special technology for it, and they will not want to
give it up.”
“Even for a major rescue operation?”
“Even for that.”
“We’ll give it back.”
“For my part, I would let you keep it. The Tangent is a vanity project, and
a waste of our resources. I’m just telling you that they know what you’re
after. They sent me to talk to you, because I don’t have the power to
say yes.”
“So, what are our options? Do you have any other elevators?”
“We have several others,” Reed confirms, “but they all have multiple
tethers, serving multiple settlements. Reeling in one would create
imbalance. Reeling in them all is doable if well-coordinated, but difficult,
and extremely disruptive. The reason the new one is the only reasonable
option is because we do not yet rely on it. That is the most frustrating
part of this whole thing.”
“Well, how do you make elevators? Can you just send us the manufacturing
platform or whatever? Forgive me, this is not my area of expertise, so I do
not know what I’m talking about.”
“We could not build a new elevator in a reasonable amount of time, and they
would not expend the resources for that either.”
“What are our options?” Clarita asks, fully aware that she’s repeating
herself, though this time, it’s more open-ended, so she doesn’t lead him to
another non-solution.
He’s nervous and hesitating. He looks around as if someone might be spying
on them in here. If anyone could break into the simulation and do
that, they would be able to do it without being detected, but his paranoia
is not completely unfounded. “I will get you The Tangent, but you’re going
to have to do something for me in return.”
“Anything.” Wait, no. “Um, I mean...almost anything,” she amends.
“It will not be pretty,” Reed goes on. “People will not be happy with my
decision. It’s probably best that I not share with you the details of my
plan, but once I enact it, I will be incredibly vulnerable.”
“What could we possibly do to help that?”
“I need backup. The space elevator platform is the first of its kind, but it
is not designed for interstellar travel. There is a way, but it will
be slow. It will take weeks to get to you and the most optimistic of
estimates.”
“Okay...”
“Those who...don’t agree with us will have plenty of time to catch up, and
put a stop to it. I will promise to defend ourselves during the initial
mission, but I would ask you to meet us halfway. Come to us with a fleet; as
many as you can. You say there are still ships in orbit. They are useless
without a means to land, or more importantly, to pull grounders up to them.
So send them towards Bungula, on the exact opposite vector that we’ll be on.
Defend us. Help us save you.”
Now it is Clarita who is hesitating. “I don’t have that kind of power
either. If I can’t get my people on board, I too will have to...” She is
reluctant to use the word coup, or mutiny, or even
commandeer. “I will find the support, though. You come to us, and
we’ll come to you. But since I don’t know which ships I’ll be able to
procure, they might end up being the slower ones. And if that’s the case...”
“You’ll still be in the same boat as me, defending yourselves in an internal
conflict.” Reed nods. “I suppose we’ll just have to do our best.”
“I suppose so,” Clarita agrees.
“Your boss. Do they want this to happen?” he questions.
“It does, but it’s fighting a political war to maintain the power it needs
to save the lives of our people before you could even possibly arrive. It
will be in a very delicate position if we throw this new complication into
the mix. We all will.”
“Then I advise you to exercise discretion. Keep the circle tight, and only
tell who you must. Figure out who you can trust.”
“Same to you,” Clarita says.
“I better go iron out the plan. Stay in touch.”
No comments:
Post a Comment