Glass Sky (37 page)

ENEWS: SEPTEMBER 20, 2050

INVESTIGATORS continue to piece together the hours before the nuclear war between India and Pakistan. According to Charles McCaffery, the British general heading the investigative team, it now seems certain that the conflict was triggered by a software error.

“Because of their close proximity, both countries employ automated defense systems,” said the General. “Our team has replicated an edge condition where the automated system mistakes the heat signatures generated during aerial maneuvers for a preemptive nuclear strike. Normally these systems have a human failsafe, but because of the high threat level, India gave their system full firing control early last week.”

***

Jie felt no satisfaction when they hooked up the last Nanoglass factory. Not with the relentless images of burned children and hollowed-eyed nuclear survivors haunting his thoughts. Not after witnessing Rajit’s desolation. Was I that naïve? To think we could create a better world? It had been a week since he’d even seen Pax Gaia mentioned on the news.

“Let’s walk the mass driver one last time,” suggested Sharon.

The four astronauts trudged uphill, past magnet after magnet. The mass driver was dormant during the two-day polar night, but its first week of use had already created sinuous patterns in the iron-rich dust, mounding it against the scaffolding in places. Not our problem. The replacement crew can deal with it.

They crested the landing field’s edge. In the absence of the sun, the swirling colors of Earth painted the rocks an eerie blue. Not even an atmosphere glow hinted at the spot where the sun had ducked behind the horizon.

Sharon cut a circuitous path between the hollowed-out shells of old supply vehicles. When they stopped, Jie realized she had led them to the blunt-nosed pyramid of the Earth return vehicle. The foil-wrapped crew capsule rested in a curved saucer of foamy white heat shielding, which in turn sat on a four-legged metal plate, underneath of which hung the main departure engine. The straps and packaging that had once held the attached payload lay scattered on the surrounding ground like wrapping paper on Christmas morning.

Jie took two steps up the ladder and tapped the heat shielding. Neat stuff. It felt hard, like brick, engineered to reach tremendous temperatures and then flake off, shedding kinetic energy into Earth’s atmosphere in a comet tail of white-hot ash.

“Next time we’re out here, we’ll be heading home,” said Sharon.

“Whenever that is,” said Jie, not caring whether Earthcon heard him or not. “We are political prisoners. Plain and simple. In fact, why we not fly the ERV back early? It has a manual override, right?”

“Where would we get navigation data?” asked Sally.

“Doesn’t Rajit’s X-Ray Pulsar Positioning System give us five-centimeter accuracy?” asked Jie. “Besides, even without the XPOS how hard can it be to hit Earth? It’s 12,000 kilometers wide and at bottom of big gravity well.”

“We have to hit the atmosphere at the right angle,” said Rajit. “Too shallow and we bounce. Too steep, and we burn.”

“And we have to land in water,” Sharon added.

“And somebody has to pick us up,” said Sally.

“OK. I get the point,” said Jie.

Their blue home looked as beautiful as ever, despite the clouds of radiation. Despite the poisoned politics.

We’ll hand them the shield, and come home to nothing. If only we could get their attention somehow. Let them see what we see.

And then it hit him.

***

Jie raced to his cabin, barely pausing to shower. I can’t tell the others. Not yet. Not until I’m certain. He forced himself to be methodical, reading up on revolutions, political movements, and orbital mechanics. What notes he took, he wrote on dead-tree paper from the stores, not trusting his networked scroll.

Morning came. He’d slept little. A hurried breakfast, then back into his cabin. Plotting event sequences. Scribbling rough calculations, hands cramping from the unfamiliar feel of a pencil. By dinner, he was as close to an answer as his own set of skills could take him.

This might just work.

“Tania Black, please,” he told his omni. She’s a friend, so the censors should let me through. I just hope she answers. I hope the connection holds.

Tania appeared. “Jie, what can I do for you?” Behind her, a suited man in sunglasses craned his neck as if trying to get a glimpse of the screen. “Back off. Give me privacy.”

The image lurched. “Sorry about that,” said Tania. “I hear that you hooked up the last nanofactories yesterday. Congratulations. I hope they let you return soon.”

No time for small talk. Not with minders listening in. “Tania, it is very important I know the answer. Is there any chance that the UN will adopt Pax Gaia next week?”

“Yes, of course.” The time delay made it so much easier to read people. Tania’s smile was too quick, like the nod that followed it. Scripted words, rolling off her tongue. Then her face fell. “Actually, no. The attacks on me… Khan Tengri dead… Everyone occupied by the India war… We need something enormous. Something to capture the world’s attention.” She shook her head. “It would take a miracle.”

“And how far would you go to get the world’s attention? What risks would you take?”

“At this stage,” said Tania, “I would do…”

“Your call has been terminated by an automated system for violating the terms of a legal agreement,” intoned the voice.

‹You dog fucker! Thirty seconds longer! Do what? Do anything? Do nothing? How much are you willing to give up?› Jie slammed his palm against the screen. Because if I make this choice, I’m making it for both of us. Whether she wants to be part of it or not.

But he’d already lost a night’s sleep on this. And the answer was as clear as ever. It’s my plan or failure. There’s no other way. He who rides the tiger, can never dismount.

He scribbled a message on a blank sheet of paper, then he stepped into the hive.

“Where were you all day?” Sally shifted to make room on the couch. “We’re about to watch a movie. No news, I promise.”

Jie felt unsteady, like his first time public speaking in college.  He held up the note, shielding it from the ceiling camera with his body. “Important! Everyone meet in the greenhouse. Need privacy.”

Sharon, and Sally looked at each other in puzzlement. Rajit was sitting at the table, staring somewhere beyond the walls, as if the last week had sucked the life out of him.

“I’d love to see how the tomatoes are doing,” said Sally. “Anyone want to come with me to the greenhouse?”

“Huh?” Rajit stirred. He seemed surprised to see others in the hive with him. Sharon took his arm. “Let’s all go.”

Sunglasses. Flowered hats. The four of them made an odd sight, like senior citizens heading out to prune roses. Jie led them beneath the tangled vegetation to the corner of the greenhouse farthest away from the microphones.

“Earthcon, can you hear me?”

No reply.

“Earthcon.” Louder this time. “We’ve got a problem. Can you hear us?”

Sharon looked at him curiously. “You’ve got my attention.”

“I know how to make a difference on Earth,” announced Jie.

Sharon laughed out loud. “How? We’re on the moon. All our communications are censored.”

“Rajit. We can’t take ERV to Earth early because reentry trajectories too hard to calculate without full network access. Correct?”

“Yeah. We’d either skip off the atmosphere. Or get flattened against it.”

“How about taking ERV to L1?”

Rajit shrugged. “Way easier. You aren’t plunging into a huge gravity well.” He furrowed his brow. “In fact, it’s almost a two-body problem once you’re away from the moon. You can take the Earth-moon system’s center of mass. Provided you don’t mind wasting fuel on course corrections.”

Jie leaned forward. “We can hijack the shield.”

Sharon looked at him as if he’d sprouted antennas. “Are you out of your mind?”

“The entire shield is run by redundant Haier Extreme Environment Controllers. I’ve used the same controllers in my work. They have an administrator reset button on the box. We can change the passwords.”

“No way.” Sharon shook her head. “That crosses way too many lines. We don’t speak for Earth. Adopting Pax Gaia is their decision to make.”

“Whose decision? The crazies who just killed 20 million with nuclear weapons because they can’t share river?”

Rajit nodded. “I’m with Jie on this, Sharon. And I think we have a unique perspective on this.”

Sharon frowned, looking uncertain.

“What are we here for if we won’t act?” pushed Jie. “Radiation clouds? Famines? We know Pax Gaia is vital. We even planned to join the speaking tour, before they silenced us!”

“But it’s futile,” protested Sharon. “They’ll just send a repair team to reset the passwords.”

“The international community can protect the shield,” said Jie. “No country can match the Chinese and American armies. But many countries can shoot down a rocket.”

Sharon whistled. “Interesting.”

“How would this play out?” asked Sally. “The four of us can’t run the shield. Would we hand the passwords to the UN?”

Jie shook his head. “The UN had their chance. I say we give it to Tania Black. To her Pax Gaia team. Maybe they can create automated shield control software. Why not? Computer AIs can already answer calls, drive cars, and do surgery.”

“And start wars,” said Sally.

“Skynet,” said Rajit. Sharon shared a smile with him. Jie looked at them quizzically.

“From an old American action movie we watched last night,” said Sharon.

“Tania can figure it out,” said Jie. “The point is we can give Pax Gaia the chance it deserves.”

Sally picked an apple off a branch. “You trust Tania that much? Even after the corruption charges?”

Jie nodded enthusiastically. “They made that up. There’s no way she is playing bad accounting tricks. She is honest.”

“And does Tania get a choice before we make her the weather god?” asked Sharon. “Because she’s going to draw a lot of lightning.”

“I talked to her half hour ago,” said Jie. “She needs a miracle to save Pax Gaia. An event to catch the world’s attention.”

“We’ll certainly do that,” said Sharon. “Assuming Earthcon doesn’t open an airlock as soon as they figure out what we’re up to. This is going to be tricky.”

***

For the next hour they sat amongst the trellised plants, beating on Jie’s plan, poking holes in it, kicking at it, probing it for cracks.

Jie finally raised his hands in surrender. “All of us must act together. If I cannot convince my friends, then it is not right thing to do. I will go to gym. Let you decide together.”

He retreated to the gym, where he biked as if his doubts were chasing him. Black news darkened the television. Fallout raining on Dushanbe. Worsening crop failures in the monsoon belt. It’s not just the climate that’s broken. It’s politics. The system can’t repair itself anymore. It must be rebooted. Jie biked. And biked. When his rubbery legs could take no more, he staggered back to the crew dome.

He found his friends back down in the hive. Sharon was perched on Rajit’s shoulders, fiddling with a ceiling camera. A cable dangled where another microphone and camera had already been disconnected.

“Sharon, this is not wise,” scolded Earthcon.

“Neither is censoring our calls. We’re taking back our privacy in protest.” Sharon pulled loose the camera wire.

“Hey, us controllers don’t make policy,” protested Earthcon. “We’re as upset as you.”

“That’s great. See you tomorrow.” She pulled the wires and hopped down. “That’s better. I felt like I was being microwaved in that greenhouse.”

They sat down at the table.

“So?” asked Jie.

Sally took his hand. “Rajit did the math. There’s not enough fuel.”

“Dog testicles! How’s that possible? I thought we were 90% up the gravity well.”

“We can get there,” said Rajit. “We can’t get back.”