Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

They get a message from Sunward. Tallgrass might lose Seagrass.

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rjb

Chapter Thirty-Five – The Message

“Did you hear about the radio message from Sunward?”

Tallgrass looked up from his book to see an excited Seagrass standing in his doorway. His mind was still full of celestial mechanics and he had to blink away the images in his mind’s eye to focus properly on his friend. “Message?” he said.

“Yes,” said Seagrass. “From Sunward. It just came in this morning.” He was grinning. Almost dancing.

“From Sunward?” said Tallgrass. “That means …”

“Yes.” Seagrass came partway into the room. “It means there are people there.”

“And that means …” began Tallgrass, putting down his book.

“That means the legends are true,” said Seagrass. “It means we did go into space before. It means we went in to the planet Sunward, and we settled on it.”

“And if that legend is true, then maybe the other one is too.”

“Yes,” said Seagrass. “Maybe someone did pour destruction on us from the sky thousands of years ago.”

Tallgrass’s eyes sharpened. “You don’t think it was them, do you? You don’t think there might have been a war between us, or something.”

Seagrass shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “The message didn’t say.”

“So, what did it say?”

Seagrass closed his predator eyes to think. “It was pretty short,” he said. “Like maybe they were just trying to establish contact.”

“Okay. That makes sense.”

“Yes. No point in a long message before they know whether or not we’re going to reply.” Seagrass nodded and continued. “Okay. It said, ‘People of Grasswind. Greetings from the people of Sunward. Thanks be to the Orbs and Stars that you yet survive. Blessings be upon you.’“

Tallgrass raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Blessings be upon you?” he said. “Did it really say that?”

“Or words to that effect. Their language is really different, but it has some recognizable parts, still. The message only came in a few hours ago, and that’s the linguists’ best guess so far.”

Tallgrass thought about it and said, “Yes. It’s probably pretty close, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” said Seagrass. “Not my area.”

“I know,” said Tallgrass. “Not mine either. But it’s a short message with simple parts. I’d be surprised if it’s very far off.”

Seagrass thought about it, then said, “That makes sense. It’s not as if it’s a great long obscure text or something.”

“That’s right,” said Tallgrass. He looked at his book, then headed for the door. “Come on,” he said. “I can study any time. Let’s find out what’s going on.”

Deputy Director Trueway stood at a lectern on stage in the Space Academy’s main auditorium. All the pads were occupied by several hundred interested and important people, and the area directly below the stage was filled by a jostling crowd of journalists. They had all come to hear the official announcement on the message. The hall was filled with the roar of excited chatter.

Trueway tapped his microphone, and the roar subsided. He looked into the faces of his audience and saw nearly uniform attention. In the pit below the stage he saw the avid concentration of the journalists, with their pads and microphones and cameras. And a glimpse of one with none of those things, just his hands in the pockets of his blanket. He looked again, but saw nothing.

He raised his eyes and found one of the security personnel. He made eye contact and indicated with a look where he had seen, or thought he had seen, the man who didn’t fit in. When the security man moved toward the pit, Trueway raised his eyes to the audience and said, “Welcome. Thank you for coming.” He gestured offstage to his right. “Please let me present the Director of the Unified Grasswind Space Program, Director Allbright, who has an important announcement of interest to the whole world.”

He stepped back as Director Allbright strode onto the stage and stepped up to the lectern. “Thank you, Deputy Director Trueway,” she said. Then she smiled at the audience and said, “Welcome. I’m sure that by now most of you have heard of the message.” She paused for their appreciative chuckle, then said, “It’s hard to imagine that anyone hasn’t. This is the biggest news to come along in … well, it’s the biggest news I’ve ever heard, anyway.”

Trueway was nodding and smiling and chuckling in all the right places, but he was scanning the audience, and especially the pit below the stage, for signs of trouble. He spotted Tallgrass and Seagrass and the rest of the crews-in-training on their haunches in the front row, with the most important dignitaries right behind them. He shared a nod with the young men, but it was Seagrass who caught the worry in his face.

The Director was saying, “We received the message yesterday morning, on the radio frequency that we use for general communications in the space program. We can only assume that they have heard our transmissions and chose that frequency accordingly. This tells us that the legends are true. We did go into space in the past, and we did go in and colonize Sunward. It also tells us that our brothers and sisters there survived, and that they, like us, have recovered to the point where they are using radio.” She paused to look at her audience and allow them to absorb what she said. Then, “I’m sure this is significant to you in your own personal way. We all have our own way of seeing things. To me, this is a sign that the space program is more important than ever. Now that we know they are out there, surely we must go and meet them.”

Trueway caught a movement in the pit, but he didn’t see the man, only the ripple he caused. Looking up, he saw that there were now three security personnel closing on the pit. He used his eyes to point, and they moved in that direction. When he glanced at the front row, he saw that Seagrass was looking that way, too.

“And now,” said Director Allbright, “let’s get to the message itself. It’s brief, and it was transmitted only once. It contains twenty-three words, and we think they were chosen in part to be easily translated, given that our languages would obviously have diverged during our isolation.” She lifted a piece of paper. “I’ll read it for you now.”

The audience was rapt, even though it was quite likely that they had heard the message before. After all, this was official. So they were all leaning forward as she began to speak, and the man took advantage of that to draw his weapon. Trueway saw it, and had time to see the security staff moving before he threw himself on the Director, shouting, “Get down!”

He heard a flurry of gunshots, and his skin crawled as he covered the Director with his body, but he didn’t feel the impact of any bullets. The shooting stopped, and there was only the shouting and screaming. He lifted his head and saw that security had the man immobilized, so he got up and helped the Director to her feet. The tension eased out of him, though his heart was still racing. He took a deep breath and shared a look with his boss. Maybe they’d got lucky. Maybe they got him in time.

Then he saw. The man hadn’t been after the Director. His target was the young men and women in the front row. He saw blood. He saw inert bodies. He saw Tallgrass on the floor, with Seagrass on top of him. He saw terrible wounds, and so much blood.

Tallgrass was unharmed, at least physically, but he was deeply wounded in other ways. Eight of his comrades had been shot before security could subdue the man, and four of them died. Of the other four, three were expected to recover enough to continue their training. The fourth was Seagrass. They didn’t know if he would live, and if he did, they were sure he wouldn’t recover in time for the mission to L1.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Tallgrass and Seagrass learn that the academy has higher goals for them.

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rjb

Chapter Thirty-Four – The Offer

Tallgrass glanced at the window. “In this building?” he asked, picking up a granola biscuit.

“What?” said Trueway. Then he laughed. “No,” he said. “Not in this building.”

While Tallgrass was enjoying his biscuit, Seagrass said, “You mean up there, don’t you?” He pointed skyward. “You mean in space.”

Tallgrass stopped chewing and stared at Trueway, who said, “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Tallgrass swallowed a lump and said, “Outer space. You’re saying that you’re offering us the chance to go to outer space.”

“That’s right,” said Trueway. “Much of the crew has already been selected. Actually three crews. The number one, the backup and the spare. If the first crew can’t go – say someone on the crew catches an infectious disease – then the backup goes. The spare is for redundancy.”

“And you say they’ve already been selected.”

“Yes. The flight crews have been filled with candidates who have a lot of experience with all kinds of aircraft. They were selected from thousands of applicants.”

Tallgrass talked around a bite of biscuit. “How big will the crew be?”

“Eight. Four on each vessel. Mission specialists and their supervisor.”

Tallgrass nodded. “The mission specialists take care of mechanicals, electronics, communications, and so on,” he said.

“That’s right,” said Trueway. “In actuality, by the time the training is complete and we’re ready to go, everyone should be able to do everybody else’s job. But in normal circumstances everyone sticks to their designated activities.”

“We?” said Tallgrass. “You said we. Are you on the crew?”

“No,” said Trueway. “That was just a figure of speech.” He glanced away at the window, avoiding their eyes. “I didn’t even apply. Didn’t even think of it.” He looked back and shrugged. “Just too scary.”

Tallgrass grinned. “But you don’t think it would be too scary for us?”

“No, in fact, I don’t. Of course, any sane person would be scared. But I don’t think that would stop you.”

Tallgrass and Seagrass looked at each other and nodded. “You’re right,” said Tallgrass. “It wouldn’t. But I’ve never even thought of going. I thought there would be plenty of people more qualified to do it. And you say they want us? Why?”

“Well, they don’t want you specifically,” said Trueway. “They just asked if there was anyone at the Academy who might want to try out. Naturally, I thought of you two. There will be about two dozen others, and you’ll be competing for six positions. Two on each crew.”

“So, even if we’re successful, maybe only one of us will get to go?”

“That’s right,” said Trueway.

Tallgrass and Seagrass looked at each other for a long time, then they nodded and Tallgrass said, “We’ll have to think about it, of course, but it sounds interesting. How long do we have to decide?”

“Until the end of the week,” said Trueway. “Let me know what you decide by then, and I’ll pass it on. After that, the selection team will descend on you and you’ll wonder what hit you.”

When Tallgrass called her with the news, Sage was not surprised. When her son went away to the Space Academy, she always had the feeling that he wouldn’t end up being ground crew. She just assumed that he would be going out there. Even so, when the chance became real it was still a shock. She asked, “Have you decided already?” When he said he hadn’t, she said, “Wait. I’m coming down there. Please wait before you make a decision.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mom,” he said. “You don’t have to come all the way down here. What about your work?”

“My work can manage without me for a few days. It’s not every day your son tells you he might be going into outer space. I want to see you. And I want to be with you while you make this decision.”

It made Tallgrass feel impatient, and frustrated, that his mother still felt he needed her to take care of him. He’d been out on his own for years. He could take care of himself. It also made him feel good. It was her fierce, protective love that he had felt all his life, and it was more important than his bruised pride. “Of course,” he said, “I’d love to see you.”

Tallgrass was embarrassed. They were in Trueway’s office, and the Professor was treating Sage as if she were a celebrity and he was her fan. He knew his mother was a celebrity. They had that running joke about her being the celebrity astronomer. But this was too much. The Deputy Director had already gushed about her astronomical papers, and now he was bringing out copies of her books for her to sign. Tallgrass decided if he mentioned her spear and necklace, then he was going to wait out in the hallway until it was over.

Sage handled it graciously. She didn’t try to act as if he was the first person to behave this way, but neither did she let on that she’d heard it all before. She accepted his compliments and returned them by asking him about the space program, and remarking on his part in it. She said, “This is a very prestigious position.” She looked around his impressive office with its gorgeous view. “And for someone so young.”

He looked flustered, and said, “To tell you the truth, I feel like an imposter. I was barely getting used to being a professor when they tapped me for this.” He glanced at Tallgrass before going on. “I keep waiting for them to realize their mistake and come and drag me out of here.”

She laughed at his joke. “Trust me,” she said, “I know just how you feel.” She waved off his protests. “Believe me, I’ve been there.” She reached out and gripped his forearm. “Don’t worry about it. The Director has nothing but good things to say about you.”

“The Director? You talked to the Director? About me?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “Well, yes. We talked about you, but I wasn’t checking up on you or anything. The Director and I go back a long way.”

The awe was back in Trueway’s face. “You knew her before?”

“Yes. Back when she was the head of the Astronomical Society. She would call me about my work, and when she was in town, we’d get together for lunch.”

“Oh!” said Tallgrass. “That lady? I think I remember. She used to bring me presents. She gave me a telescope. Remember?”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “You used it so much that you wore it out.”

“And you got me a better one.”

“I did,” she said, and turned back to Trueway. She said, “So the Director and I talk a lot, and we get together as often as we can. When Tallgrass told me what was happening, I called her.” She looked back at her son. “Not to interfere,” she said. “Just to find out more. Just to …” She grimaced and stopped.

Tallgrass said, “I understand, Mom. It’s okay.”

She was relieved. “Thank you,” she said. She shared a look with her son, then spoke to Trueway. “While we were talking, she mentioned you. That you were talking to Tallgrass and Seagrass. And she said you were good and the agency was lucky to have you.”

“Really?” said Trueway. He looked around his office with new eyes. “She said that about me?” He stood a little straighter.

“Yes,” said Sage. “She told me that she’s pretty sure that you will have her job one day.”

Trueway snorted a surprised laugh. “Now that’s going too far. Me? Director? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“That’s what she said,” said Sage. “Depending on how this project goes, she might have higher ambitions, and you would be a good candidate to move up.”

Trueway looked confused. “Higher ambitions?” he said. “What could be higher than this?”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “I can’t see it myself, but some people are attracted by the scent of politics. Their ambitions are drawn to it. Personally, I can’t imagine any higher calling than science and discovery, but it takes all kinds.”

“Exactly,” said Trueway. “I would take the Director’s job if they offered it to me. Well, not right now. I don’t think I’m ready yet. But later, when I’m ready, I’d take it.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine using it as a stepping stone, though.”

Sage nodded. “She’s right. The Director. You would be a good candidate for the job. When you’re ready, of course.”

Trueway managed to look embarrassed, scared and pleased all at once. “If you say so,” he muttered. Then he took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and said, “But that’s not why we’re here, is it? We’re here about something much more immediate.”

“That’s right,” said Sage. “I came down to be with Tallgrass while he makes his decision. To give him someone to talk to about it. And while I’m here, I wanted to talk to you about the program. Just for my own interest.”

“Of course,” said Trueway. “Anything I can do to help.”

“Thank you,” said Sage. “First, about the crewed flight program. You’re just about ready for your first attempt, aren’t you?”

Looking uncomfortable, Trueway said, “I’m sorry, but how much did the Director tell you?”

“Only that. That you’re close.”

“Okay,” he said. “It’s just that we’re holding back the announcement until we’re sure we’re ready. We’ve had setbacks before, and then there are the security concerns.”

“Of course,” she said. “It would be nice to live in a world that didn’t need secrets, but we don’t.”

“Exactly. It’s unfortunate, but necessary.” Trueway consulted a notebook he retrieved from his desk. “If all goes well,” he said, “the first manned …” He looked at her before continuing. “The first crewed launch will be in about a month. Then the plan is to do five more at monthly intervals, as we amass data. Again, if that goes well, we’ll spend six months preparing for the next phase.”

“The construction phase, right?” said Tallgrass.

“That’s right,” said Trueway. “We will construct two vessels in orbit. The first one should be done in a couple of years. Maybe three, depending. The second one should be quicker. By then their crews will be ready. Fully trained on replicas on the ground. We think we’ll be ready to go to L1 in four years. That’s why the crews need to start training now.”

“That sounds ambitious,” said Sage.

“It is ambitious,” said Trueway. “Ambitious but doable. We’re not overextending ourselves. Safety is paramount. That’s why we’re taking two vessels. For redundancy.”

“And if Tallgrass decides to get involved,” said Sage, “would he be part of the construction phase?”

“No,” said Trueway. “Of course he could opt to try to get in on that, if he wants. He could accelerate his training. But that is not our plan.”

Tallgrass interjected quietly. “What is the plan for me, then? If I decide to go.”

“The plan is for you and Seagrass to be on the crew that goes to L1 four years from now. You would be on one vessel, with four crew, and he would be on the other. Should you be successful, of course.”

“I see,” said Tallgrass, while his mother watched him. “I have one question. Why aren’t the first crews going to L1? The ones who made the first flights, and the ones on construction. Shouldn’t they have the right?”

Trueway shook his head. “They were selected and trained for their specific missions. They knew that from the beginning. You will be trained specifically for your mission.”

“Okay,” said Tallgrass. He looked at Sage. He looked out the window. He looked back at the Deputy Director. He said, “I want to talk to Seagrass before I commit. We should tell you together. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to do it.”