The Agathon: Book One (12 page)

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Authors: Colin Weldon

BOOK: The Agathon: Book One
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“What are we now? A tribe?” Barrington didn’t answer. “Policy and ‘tribal’ decisions must be approved by her. What I suggest is that a new council be formed with the chancellor at its head. The first Terran Council.”

“Mr. Young, with all due respect, I do not have time to play politics. There is a very real chance that we are about to become an extinct species and my energy and focus needs to go into getting that ship ready to leave.”

Young seemed to be taken aback by Barrington’s tone. “I understand that, John, which is why you have complete autonomy and support on this, as well as the chancellor’s.”

Something about that did not sit well with Barrington. Some tough calls needed to be made shortly and while he thought the tone of the conversation was one thing, it was turning out to become something different.
Fucking Jycorp
. He calmed himself.

“Mr. Young,” he said. “Regarding the space on The Agathon.”

“Yes. That is an issue,” Young replied.

Barrington asked the obvious. “How do we decide who stays and who goes?” There was a pause.

“Tosh has something on that issue and I would like to iron some of the details out with him before we cross that bridge. In the meantime, my personnel are at your disposal to complete The Agathon project. I will begin arranging their transport immediately. Luckily for us at least, the last of the materials are already in orbit.”

“There are already rumours beginning to spread that some will have to remain behind, Mr. Young. I would like an answer on this as soon as possible,” he pressed.

“As would I, John. I am hoping to have a plan of action to propose later on this evening.” Young’s patience for this conversation seemed to be running out. “Let’s talk again in the morning?” he said.

“Of course,” replied Barrington and cut communications. He rubbed his eyes, sat in his office chair in silence, and looked at a photo of Jennifer he kept on his desk.

“Miss you,” he told her. “I’ll get her out. I promise.”

 

Main Observatory

Time since evacuation 51 Days

14:44 Martian St
andard

“Doctor, what are going to do about the samples of The Black?” asked Carrie. She had spent the afternoon precariously preparing the storage pods of Tyrell’s equipment for safe transport to the science labs on board The Agathon. Her mind was not on the task. On several occasions, she had dropped samples of base materials with protests from Tyrell.

“I don’t know what planet you are on today, young lady, but it is not this one,” he had said, sending her off to do menial tasks for fear she might inadvertently blow the place up. Carrie knew that she wasn’t hiding her lack of concentration very well.

“I don’t know, Carrie,” he said from under a control console. “Your father has blown the entrance to the cave and as such the only live samples we have left are the ones in this lab and in Meridian’s.”

“Do you not think it wise we destroy it?” she said. Tyrell stopped rummaging around in containers and looked up at Carrie, who was fiddling with a scope.

“Why do you say that? I thought you were a scientist. This is the first life form outside our own that we have discovered anywhere in the universe.” He continued rummaging through one of the containers. “Just because something is lethal when threatened does not mean that we simply destroy it, Carrie. If that were true, the great sharks of Earth’s oceans would have been extinct for a hundred years or so. Destroying nature is a last resort, Carrie. If something poses a threat to humans indirectly, we simply stay out of its way.”

Carrie was taken aback by the abrupt tone in Tyrell’s voice. Surprised at this reaction she answered, “It killed four people, Doctor. One of them intentionally.” Tyrell paused and took a seat next to one of his diagnostic tables. He took a breath.

“Carrie, what happened to your mother was an accident.” It was the first time Tyrell had ever mentioned Jennifer to Carrie directly and she was taken aback by his honesty.

“She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and did not know what she was dealing with. It could have happened to anyone, Carrie, on any planet anywhere in the universe. It was her fate and there is no cheating that. But her death, Carrie…” he paused, “her death led to the most significant discovery in the history of the world, outside of the signal.

“She was a heroine, Carrie. Her name will never be forgotten, but now we move on with life. Fraine’s death can only be attributed to Lorenzo Fraine. His methodology was sloppy and he was foolish to run an experiment like that without proper controls. Whatever the reason for The Black’s reaction to the equipment or his presence, what is clear to me is that it was protecting itself. Nothing more. Our samples in the lab have not reacted the same way when I duplicated the experiment. Nothing happened, Carrie. So tell me logically, from a scientific point of view, why would we destroy the only
extra
-terrestrial organic substance currently known to exist?”

Carrie began to hear frustration in Tyrell’s voice. She contained her feelings about her mother’s death and focused on his mind. She felt ruthless discipline from him and something else. Something dark.
Save Carrie
! came a scream in her head. She took a step back, as if given a jolt. She dropped the scope on the floor, and it smashed into several small pieces. Tyrell just looked at her. Focused eyes.
He knows
.

“I am sorry, Doctor Tyrell. I… sorry.” She knelt and started picking up the fragments of the scope.

“Do not worry about that, Carrie. I have many more, just throw it in the disposal unit.” He stood up and approached her. He stood beside her and placed a hand on one of her shoulders.

“What we are about to do, Carrie, will take all our focus and all our...” He paused. “Talents. I have been impressed by your work here. You are a gifted scientist. A natural, and you have been of enormous help to me. Do not be afraid of where we are going. The answers are out there, Carrie,” he said, pointing to the ceiling.

“We will find them together. You and I.” Carrie did not like the soft touch of his hand. There was a surreal calm about the doctor, a vacancy in his eyes like a shark before it attacks. He took a deep breath and returned to his workstation, as if the conversation had never taken place. Carrie knew at that moment that Doctor Tyrell was dangerous.

 

Jycorp Orbital platform

19:33 Martian Standard

“Should have kept the military on a tighter leash,” Young said.

“What was that?” an aide replied.

“Nothing,” said Young as he made his way out of his office and through the station. People scattered about, letting him pass. He had a long stride and never stopped to speak to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Now, more than ever, his image of strong leadership needed serious reinforcement. His very small and weakened security personnel were beginning to look uneasy in his presence. They still maintained an absolute veil of professionalism, but there were times when he would catch a questioning glance from one of them.

His father had bestowed an old Chinese saying from Sun Tzu to him many years earlier. “If the mind is willing, the flesh could go on and on without many things.” What did the human race have left but the routines of old? He hoped that he could maintain that sense of purpose long enough to get on board The Agathon. Time was running out and questions were being asked. The greatest threat now was not the huge chunk of rock headed their way. The problem now was revolution. Every man for himself! He began to imagine the faces around him tearing each other apart to gain access to their only escape route. The Agathon. Time was running out and he needed options before that happened. They would follow Barrington. They all would. But not him. He had neither led men in war nor bled with them on any battlefield. He was a suit. A powerful one in the old world, but this new one could quickly degenerate into madness.

He travelled down the many corridors to the central engineering sections of the space station. The huge room was filled with large control consoles and walkways, which carried its inhabitants to the
six
-
storey
-high engine access ports. Tosh and Emerson were waiting for him near one of the artificial gravity field generators. They were in deep discussion about something and did not see him enter.

“Gentlemen, please wait here,” he instructed his guards. They waited at the entrance obediently. He walked casually over to the two men and stood next to them. They looked up and nodded.

“Mr. Emerson, I thought you had been assigned to The Agathon engineering team?”

“Eh. Yes Mr. Young, I’m on my way there now. Daniel had some thoughts on our...” He looked around to see if anyone was watching. “On our space issue and he needed me to run some quick numbers by me before I departed.”

“I see,” said Young looking at Tosh.

“And?” Tosh seemed reluctant to say what they had been talking about and looked at Emerson to begin. Emerson clearly wasn’t up to the task and put his arm out.

“Age before beauty,” he said. Tosh sighed.

“Gentlemen, can we please get on with it?” Young was in no mood for nonsense.

“Well. Here is how I see it,” began Tosh. “Before we start killing each other trying to get off these stations, I think we have only one option to propose.”

“Jesus, Daniel, will you just fucking spill it,” Young said. He did not like having to ask the same question twice and hated indirect answers more than anything.

“Okay, Jerome, take it easy. Here’s what I think. We fire the fusion engines of both space stations and the transports that just arrived and we break off orbit and head deeper in the solar system. Our calculations indicate that they would both survive a long burn and gain enough momentum to break past the outer planetary systems and past the outer rim.”

Young couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What? Are you insane?” he said.

Tosh raised his hands. “Just hear us out. Both stations are
self
-sustaining and could easily survive in interstellar space for decades. That is what they were built to do. We lock in the locator beacons of all ships directly into The Agathon central computer, that way it can rendezvous with them any time it wants, no matter where in the void the stations end up. We crew The Agathon to its capacity. It jumps to the Aristaeus system and determines its habitability. It offloads the crew and jumps back to pick up the rest of the people on the stations. A couple of good runs and we get everyone safely to the surface of the planet in no time at all.” Tosh waited for a response. Young took a moment and looked at the floor and sighed.

“How did it come to this?” He put his hand up to stop Emerson from adding any new information and paced over to the edge of the walkway. He placed his hand on the rail and stared up at the vast array of machinery, which made up the heart of the space station.

“Tosh, you’re asking over half of what is left of the human race to die alone in the middle of nothingness.” Tosh looked surprised at Young’s reaction. It was unlike him to look at things so negatively, but he had grown tired over the last few days and his encounter with the chancellor had been less than pleasant. Tosh floated over and joined him at the rail.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting, Jerome, and you know it. We do nothing and these people will die. This way they have a chance. I think you should propose it to the chancellor and Barrington. Maybe Tyrell has come up with something else I don’t know about, but right now this is how I see it. In any case, what if The Agathon blows up during the FTL drive start up? This way we save most of us. Who knows, in a few generations the convoy could reach a habitable planet and that will be that.”

Young didn’t like the sound of a generational convoy of humans limping through the galaxy, but his mind would not focus.

“Let’s bring it to the chancellor, Tosh, but I want you there when I tell her. The woman has a mean right hook.”

7

Time since evacuation 61 Days

Qua
rters of Dr Chase
Meridian
- Mars Colony 1

09:33 Martian Standard

“A
t some point you’re going to have to tell someone that we’re married,” said Doctor Kyle McDonnell. The pair were still wrapped in each other after a marathon session of lovemaking and McDonnell was currently resting his head neatly between her thighs. Meridian was still out of breath and her soaked body was splayed across the relatively modest bed in which they had spent the last three hours.

“I mean the fucking world has ended, I don’t think it really matters anymore,” he said, catching his breath. “Besides it might bring some joy, no?” McDonnell had been pushing her to go public with their romance for months, but Meridian was having none of it.

She hated her personal life being discussed by anyone. It had taken Barrington three years to get her to open up about her first husband, Daniel, who had been killed during an outbreak of Ebola X in Liberia. During their first year together as man and wife, the most virulent strain of the
centuries
-old virus had ravaged him within two hours of contact during a botched experiment on a vaccine in one of the makeshift Jycorp CDC labs. She had watched through a quarantine field as his cries of agony went unanswered. The Jycorp CDC had strict protocols when dealing with this airborne disease. It was the only virus to fall under section
35C
-Paragraph 13 of the manual for airborne contaminants; (‘Once detected, any subject infected must be immediately contained and destroyed without prejudice. Any such person or persons who enact this action are granted total immunity from any prosecution under the laws herein. Failure to comply with said protocol will result in life imprisonment without the possibility of reprieve or parole’). Knowing the protocol well, he had pleaded with her to end the pain. With his bloodstained hands pressed against the translucent field, she had flipped the switch and incinerated her husband in front of her eyes. She had found solace in knowing that it had not lasted long and that he would have thanked her for it had his ability to speak been within the realms of possibility. It was a pain she had kept for herself. Not willing to part with it through counselling or pharmaceutical dampening. It was her pain. And she wanted it.

“We’ve talked about this, Kyle; you need to give me time,” she said gently. She loved this crazy Scotsman. He made her laugh harder than anyone ever had and she truly believed that he was her soul mate. She just wasn’t ready to let Daniel go. Not yet. “Please give me time.”

McDonnell pouted and sunk his head back into her abdomen. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me, ye know,” he said in a baby voice. She sat up, taking exception to the idea and held his face firmly in her hands.

“Listen to me, you silly oaf,” she said with deadly serious eyes locked into his. She loved his eyes. Full of warmth and charm. It was his eyes that had sparked her interest. His keen doe eyes that had so blatantly locked onto her the moment she had touched down on this red chunk of rock, like a lost puppy looking for its owner. “I love you more than your silly face can handle. I love your heart, your soul and that rugged man body.” McDonnell sucked his stomach in, which was badly in need of a workout. She tickled it playfully and he giggled like a child.

“I promise you that, when I’m ready, we will announce it to the whole world, what’s left of it, and we will celebrate and dance until the stars fall away. I promise.” He nodded lovingly and kissed her passionately on her soft lips, before resting his forehead on hers.

“Okay, toots. My lips are sealed. Now can I please have my fucking microscope back?” he said, and grabbed her armpits as they struggled in a mock fight amongst the sheets.

Aq
uaria
Base
- Mars Colony 1

12:22 Martian Standard

“There is something off with Tyrell,” Carrie said to her seated father. She was standing in the doorway of his office but she just came out with it.

“Sit down, Dice. What’s up?” he said, sitting back in his chair. Her father looked awful and she regretted having not come in on a lighter note. There was a harassed look on his face and his comm system kept bleeping, leading him to interrupt every few seconds to speak to various members of the colony about logistical and construction updates on The Agathon.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I can come back later.”

“No. No. No... Please sit down, we haven’t talked in a while and I could use a break from this,” he said, pointing to his comms control panel and inhaling loudly. He got up and walked around his desk, stretching his back and arms in the air.

“You need to sleep, Father. You look terrible,” she said. “You won’t be any good to us if you drive that thing into a moon because you’re half awake.” He laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. It felt nice.

“I’ll do my very best, Dice. It’s hard to get shuteye with half a planet on its way to destroy us. We have a lot of frightened people here, Carrie. I know you know that much, and frightened people need answers. I wish I had them,” he said, staring out of his large glass window and over the colony.

“I hear you took a trip this morning,” he said, giving a little knowing look which caught her completely off guard.

“Eh?” she replied. His smile widened.

“Some things don’t need your abilities, Dice. How does she look?” “

“She?” Carrie said.

“The Agathon. How does she look?” Carrie smiled and tried to disregard the blush in her cheeks.

“She’s the most beautiful ship I have ever seen. And she’s waiting for her captain.” Her father smiled, revealing the newly formed lines under his eyes. Carrie wished she could lighten his burden.

“Now, what’s going on with you in the lab?”

She suddenly felt silly bringing him this information on a gut feeling. “Nothing,” she said.

“Come on, Dice. You have a fight with the doc? Look, I know scientists are a bit strange, present company included,” he said with a playful grin. “But it’s in their nature. Tyrell probably a bit more than most, but without him we would be in serious trouble down here. I don’t have to tell you. What happened?”

She looked out the window and observed the lights of the living quarters. “Nothing, honestly. I accidentally broke an important piece of equipment and he got upset. It was my fault really and it wasn’t my place to bring it to you.” She hoped he bought her lie. “Truth is, I think I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you have to be careful around some of this science types, Dice. Everyone is under pressure at the moment, but if it becomes something other than a dressing down you come to me. You got that?”

“Of course, I really am sorry I bothered you with this.”

“Don’t be silly, Dice. I’m here for you. But you have to fight your battles. I will not be around forever,” he said, looking warmly into her eyes.

Carrie could not imagine a life without her father and pushed it to the back of her mind.

She knew that resonated with him and he quickly responded. “But that won’t be for a long time. Buy me dinner?” he said.

“Would love to,” Carrie said.

“Okay, give me ten minutes to send some communiqués and we’ll be on our way,” he said. One hour later they left his office.

M
ain
Observatory
- Mars Colony 1

14:44 Martian Standard

Tyrell stared at the gargantuan rock in the imaging chamber as it glided unforgivingly through the emptiness of space. The fragment from Earth was massive. Its entourage of broken rock, ice, metal and core fragments accompanied it like an ominous security detail.

“Look at you,” he quietly said. “I see you.” His finger pointed to the manifestation of the doomsday fragment headed their way. His tone was playful, as if he were speaking to a
new
-born baby but with a hint of menace. The tears running down his cheeks had dried, leaving residue. He held a bottle of 1950 Glen Grant single malt loosely in his fingertips. It was empty.

“Little fucker,” he said, looking at the approaching debris. “Told you little fuckers,” he continued. “Told you all and now look at you. Can you breathe? Can you fucking breathe now? Think you can laugh at me with the darkness seeing you. Fucking little insects.” He started to laugh
half
-heartedly and wobbled in his chair, almost falling out of it. His laughter increased to a full wholehearted hysterical bellyache. He calmed himself and leaned forward towards the live stream of holographic images.

“Who needs you anyway, you ingrates. You small pathetic primates. Now look at you. ALL DEAD! DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. YOU HEAR ME, MORRETI?” His anger was swallowed up in fresh tears. He caught his breath and sat back in his chair.

“You old fuck.” He laughed. “Not the fool anymore, I would say. Am I, Meretti? How do you like my methods now, you corpse. You see now, don’t you? You do, don’t you?” He looked up. To the ceiling.

“You know now, don’t you? Your consciousness floating around out there with all the answers, you fuck. My equations were flawless. You know now, don’t you?” He stood up from the chair and faced the imaging chamber. He walked up to its translucent barrier and pressed his hand against the glass.

“That you, Meretti? That you coming to get me?” His tone turned to fury. “Is that you coming, Meretti? Is that you, you
self
-righteous egomaniac?” The chunk of Earth slowly grew in the viewer. Two of the adjoining fragments smashed into each other and scattered themselves amongst the flotsam. Tyrell looked on with horror in his eyes.

“You FUCK!” He hit his palm against the glass. The clunk of it reverberated around the empty lab. He hit it again.

“Fuck you, Meretti. Come get me, you miserable old bastard. I want it. I WANT TO KNOW!” he screamed.

“You laughing, Meretti? You fucking laughing? Who the fuck do you think you are? You fucking corpse. You are NOTHING. You hear me, you old fool?” He punched the glass and screamed at the inanimate object.

“I was right. Look at me.” He turned away from the image and walked over to one of the diagnostic tables. He grabbed a chair, hurling it at the imaging chamber. A small crack appeared.

“I SEE YOU!” he screamed. The chair lay by the glass.

“I fucking see you,” he said, grabbing a large rock sample and hurling it at the chamber.

“Do you fucking hear me, old fool? You won’t kill me.” He stumbled over the table and hit the ground. He struggled to his feet. A mixture of alcohol and sweat coated his shirt. He grabbed a titanium chemical diffuser from an equipment locker. The heavy
two
-foot pipe lay firmly in his grasps. Small trickles of blood ran from his knuckles. He gathered himself and walked with fury towards the tank and stood nose to nose with the image of the approaching rock.

“You... won’t... get... me,” he screamed, raising the pipe above his head. He brought it down in one swift motion. The glass cracked easily.

“You old fuck!” he screamed. He began attacking the imaging chamber with tremendous violence. The image of the Earth cut out and sparks flayed across the lab, as the chamber exploded in a frenzy of shards and charged particles. The force of it knocked Tyrell clean off his feet and threw him across the floor of the lab. He lay on the ground with the wind knocked from his lungs, covered in cuts and the remnants of the destroyed imaging chamber. He turned onto his side and vomited. The broken bottle of whisky lay scattered around the lab.

He gathered his breath and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He slowly rose to his feet, wiping his mouth from the excess stomach contents, and stood among the debris of the imaging chamber. Smoke rose from the destroyed equipment. With his hair now soaked in sweat, he stood alone and in silence in his lab. With the pipe still held firmly in his hand and drained from the outburst, he dropped to his knees and began to cry uncontrollably, still watching the empty space where the imaging system had stood. He dropped the pipe, which landed with a thud. He looked around his lab and towards his private room, which held his sample of The Black and then back to the empty space.

Gathering himself, he got up and walked to a small cabinet. He grabbed another bottle of whisky. He walked quietly over to a chair and slumped himself into it. He opened the bottle and drank freely from its neck. Still out of breath, he looked at the cuts on his hands and arms with apathy and then looked back at the empty space.

“Can’t catch me,” he whispered, as he gently began to fall asleep.

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