Terra 12: Paradise Found

By Ryan Baxter

It is the year 2298.

Humanity stands at the threshold. A new era dawns as the barrier that has restricted man to his solar system has finally been breached.

The Mission: To explore neighboring solar systems, to locate a Terran-like planet within the inhabitable zone of one or more of those systems. Twelve vessels, designated Terras One - Twelve, are entrusted with this task.

The X-drive: a technological triumph that allows true interstellar travel, whose revolutionary engines can propel the Delta-class vessels in excess of four times the speed of light.

The Crew: Includes one Zach Travis who finds himself a last minute addition as the ship’s engineer. And one Arthur P. Harrington, or Mr. Ambassador, who serves as the Federation’s representative on the ship known as Terra 12 whose targeted system is Tau Ceti, located nearly twelve light-years from Earth.

Meanwhile, Earth faces a threat born from its relentless pursuit of technology, a threat which drags the planet to the brink of destruction.

And then there is Terra ... A world no one ever expected to find. For Terra is not only Terran-like; it is somehow more Earth than Earth, populated by people who are human in the truest sense of the word.

When Zach Travis awakens on the planet’s surface with no memories of who he is or even where he is, thus begins his journey to discover the mystery that is Terra. And a truth more profound than anything he could ever have imagined.

But who could have guessed that a visit to paradise would involve blackberries and butterflies and ... bubbles. Even the deepest mystery can delight in itself. And love has a way of popping up where you least expect it.

In a place called Terra ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Baxter
• Release date: Nov 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9780991597468

Ryan Baxter

Ryan grew up in a time and a place which embraced blackberries, butterflies and bubbles. It was a world where Burma Shave signs entertained the family on road trips, where a haircut might be a close encounter with the sheep shears, where on summer evenings the grownups gossiped on the front porch while barefoot kids chased lightning bugs in the yard. A world where being human was a treasure enough.Only ... That world has almost disappeared to be replaced by another world, the world of Science that seeks to wrest the reins of human destiny into its own grasp, as it rushes boldly into the future. This new world is seductive, its surface sparkling with glitz and glitter, fueled by promises to elevate you to something superior, to be greater than human.Before you travel too far down that road, Ryan invites you take a journey with him. To rediscover the true beauty of being human. To a place called Terra ...

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Author’s note

Even if you choose to call a novel science fiction, you should know there exists a place beyond science and before fiction. It is a place which embraces a truth so old that when you first hear of it, it sounds more like legend. Or even myth.

For the purposes of our story, you will need to travel the twelve light-years from Earth to Terra. But remember: While Terra may look more like Earth than Earth, Terra is not Earth. It is not required to play by Earth’s rules nor obey the dictates of Earth’s science. Science does not rule on Terra, but then neither does fantasy. Terra is a place where something much older, and far wiser, rules.

Lest you forget, this ancient truth can still be found on Earth. In fact there is no corner in the whole of the Universe nor in all the Universes which ever were or ever will be where this truth does not hold sway. Sometimes you cannot appreciate what grows by your doorstep until you go elsewhere. Sometimes you need to travel far from yourself before you can come home, to discover who you truly are.

Such is the case for our hero, Zach Travis, whose mission takes him on a long voyage to a distant star, where he awakens on a faraway world unable to remember who he is. And uncertain of where he is. Step by step, as his adventure on Terra unfolds, he will reawaken: not just to who he was, but to who he truly is.

Are you ready for a real adventure? To travel vast distances in the space of a heartbeat? To a place called Terra…

Chapter 1

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE, TERRA 12

Outside the composite hull of the Delta-class Deep Space Explorer, microscopic particles of dust that existed even in the trackless expanse of interstellar space whipped past, deflected by the electromagnetic shields that protected the structural integrity of the gleaming white ship. This particular vessel, designated Terra 12, was one of a dozen exploratory spacecraft built by Mercury Aerospace in the last years of the 23rd century—at least as time was measured by the inhabitants of a small, but unique world they called Earth, tucked away in a quiet corner of the Milky Way.

Unlike her predecessors—which had been built expressly for colonizing the moon or Mars—the Delta-class contours might be described as elegant, both in concept and execution. Which might seem surprising given that the design itself was cobbled together by a committee of aerospace engineers, ship architects and astrometallurgists. Their mandate was functionality first, followed by sufficient redundancy to make her reliable over the long haul.

Because the deep reaches of space are the most unforgiving of environments: A hull breach, the disruption of some critical component of life support, or the failure of the Boeing X-drive could bring an abrupt end not only to the ship’s mission, but to the lives of her twenty-five crew members and officers.

But beauty can manifest itself in the most unlikely of places. The Delta-class vessel transcended what could have been just another cold triumph of technological innovation. She was what one critic described as a throw back to a time when clipper ships first appeared on the high seas, those same graceful lines exuding power and speed.

Clipper ships… That allusion was lost on the general public, but it brought a smile to the face of the guiding hand behind the design, one of those singular individuals who had not surrendered to the notion that function automatically trumps form.

That guiding hand belonged to one Roger Crawley, currently Chancellor of the Academy of Space & Technology. The Academy had a long history of serving as a guiding hand, particularly in the efforts to break the bounds of Earth and free humanity to explore the endless expanse of space itself. Granted, the earliest progress had happened before the Academy was founded in the 21st century—the manned missions to the moon and the orbiting space stations. Since that time, under the Academy’s careful guidance, the solar system had become Earth’s backyard.

Not a particularly inviting playground, unfortunately, since neither the moon nor the neighboring planets were innately hospitable to human life. Even with major and expensive terraforming, it would be centuries before Mars could provide a viable alternative to Earth. As long as faster-than-light travel remained an impenetrable barrier, the solar system represented the realistic limits of man’s expansion. Only as the 24th century dawned, that limitation was about to change.

Deep in the bowels of the cavernous Engineering compartment of Terra 12, the soaring beauty of the ship’s lines was momentarily lost on Zach Travis, Engineer First Class, but for this mission reclassified as Chief Engineer. He frowned, puzzled, as he double-checked the diagnostic readout.

Okay, he said blowing out a breath, if I read this right, the fault lies in the neural network of the AI module. He spoke aloud as though for the benefit of an audience of maintenance robots clustered closest to him, but they remained mute, unresponsive. Maintenance robots were programmed to ignore human speech unless they were addressed by their machine names and issued orders in an explicit format.

Zach smiled to himself recalling that back on Earth the trendy crowd had opted for the chat mode where robots mimicked the patterns of human interaction and dialogue. While that wasn’t an accepted protocol on a vessel such as a Deep Space Explorer, it was easy to slip into the habit of talking aloud around robots. All too frequently they were your only companions for long stretches of a shift, especially in Engineering.

Zach’s smile faded as he returned to the task before him, slowly rotating the AI module in his hand. While his diagnostic tests showed that the module was operating within normal specs, the robot it governed had become increasingly erratic and unresponsive. This would require some detective work. Zach’s forehead wrinkled ever so slightly as he relished the challenge.

Zach had a special fondness for this model. Officially it was designated a MKTRX-75, but nicknamed T-Rex to acknowledge its voracious appetite for dust, metal particles, paint flecks, fasteners or any of the endless debris that found its way to the deck of Engineering. That the T-Rex possessed a passing resemblance to its prehistoric predecessor only made the handle more fitting. Zach had learned from experience to program his herd of T-Rexes to ignore tools, circuits, neural network plug-ins, gloves and dropped datapads. Everything else on the Engineering deck was fair game.

Zach made an automatic move to brush the dark hair away from his forehead before he remembered that he had no hair left to brush. The hair-suppressing drugs he took as part of on-board protocols allowed only a faint stubble to grow on his head and an even fainter shadow on his face. The stubble glistened in the muted light of the compartment, reflecting the red and blond highlights, a legacy of his grandmother whose hair had been a deep auburn in her youth. At least there weren’t yet any flecks of gray.

Zach held up the module to the light, trying to make out the embedded model number. That’s weird, he said aloud. The module was part of the C-series, one of the earlier generation AI units that should have been retired. Or replaced. Their reliability was spotty, but Zach could not recall the specific issue. He resisted the temptation to query the Core, the ship’s own computing neural network. He would do this the old-fashioned way. The smile returned.

At thirty-two, Zach would normally have been considered too young and inexperienced to hold the position of Chief Engineer on what many considered to be the most critical mission ever undertaken by humankind. Fate had dictated otherwise. Zach had found himself a last-minute replacement when the original engineer selected for this voyage had withdrawn because of a family emergency. It had taken Zach six months to prove himself and win over a skeptical crew. And an even more skeptical captain. But young as he was, Zach had a gift. Engineering had run smoothly and without incident under his watch.

Which was a good thing because for most of the crew, Engineering was a mysterious world. It occupied nearly a third of the ship’s available interior space and was located at the stern of the ship. Per the Delta-class specs, Engineering was buffered by a series of self-sealing and compartmentalized container holds closest to the outer hull—a design feature that had been incorporated on all sides of the ship.

Besides serving to store the ship’s potable water as well as its waste waters awaiting recycling, these storage compartments doubled as additional shielding. Their secondary task was to protect the crew and sensitive electronics from the constant bombardment of cosmic radiation. Zach knew the crew was closely monitored for any effects of radiation poisoning. While it was a concern—like many concerns in the deep reaches of space—it was gradually pushed into the background, lost among the endless cycles of ship’s routine.

Zach pulled up the diagnostic report on the AI unit again, scanning for some clue, some anomaly. What? he asked the maintenance robots lined against the bulkhead. You think you could do better? He was the only one to laugh at his joke. Still per protocols, he should have assigned this task to one of the specialist Engineering robots. The Academy’s newly incorporated protocols for an interstellar mission clearly reflected this intent: The role of ship’s engineer, particularly on a ship as complex as Terra 12, was meant to be one primarily of oversight and delegation.

Ships had grown so sophisticated that they could not only fly themselves, they could maintain themselves. Zach faced that reality daily since Terra 12 required the Engineering robots to conduct most of the exacting ship maintenance. The tolerances were so fine that it had become impossible for humans to make anything beyond routine repairs. Only Zach was a tinkerer at heart. Delegation was not his style.

Artificial Intelligence… Zach felt the ghost of a smile arise along with a memory. He could see a nine-year-old Zach, rummaging through the old machine shop on his grandmother’s farm. He had discovered a treasure, one of his father’s discarded AI modules on a dust-covered shelf in the shop one rainy spring afternoon. He allowed that memory to bloom briefly, before tucking it away to share at another time with a more appreciative audience.

AI dated back to a time almost prehistoric—or so it seemed to a young Zach—when men first conceived their primitive computers. Somehow the phrase had stuck even as the computing power of machines had exploded at an exponential rate. At least AI was a familiar technology. Zach glanced in the direction of the first-generation Boeing X-drive. The rhythmic throbbing echoed in the cavernous space that loomed thirty meters overhead even as the drive propelled the ship forward at roughly four times the speed of light.

The X-drive was housed in a vaulted container and serviced by four hugely sophisticated robots dedicated to the task. Zach could not even enter the compartment while the system was engaged. Faster-than-light or FTL as it was more commonly abbreviated: the barrier that had long confined man to his own solar system. That barrier had recently and unexpectedly been broken by the X-drive which was revolutionary rather than evolutionary in design. While Terra 12 employed her sublight engines for short hops, it was the X-drive which made interstellar travel possible. The X-drive had performed flawlessly for the past three years, hurtling the ship through the vacuum of space with no true sensation of movement.

It was long past the days where once the best monitor of an engine’s condition was the ear of a good mechanic. Still that knack existed. For those with a feel for mechanics, the change in the pitch of a hum or a faint vibration could tell its own story. In the nearly three years that Zach had served as the ship’s engineer, he could feel when Engineering hummed at just that right pitch. He felt a moment of satisfaction that he had managed to meet the challenge of a ship that incorporated so much new technology as the Delta-class vessels. Only the X-drive was in a league of its own. Zach doubted that he would ever understand its operation, much less its theoretical underpinnings.

Dust… Zach smiled as the solution to the problem popped into his head. How could I have missed that? He cast a triumphant look at the maintenance robots. He had seen this problem before when he served on the Orion, a cargo ship that ferried supplies to the Mars colony. Of course. The filter had grown clogged and allowed dust to build up sufficiently to interfere with the neural connectors. Zach cracked open the casing and saw the evidence for himself. Like all problems, simple once you knew the answer.

Well, little guy, it looks like you won’t need a brain transplant after all, Zach said to the T-Rex as he prepared to perform some minor cosmetic surgery instead.

Hey Hari, everything still attached? Zach quipped, a sly smile crossing his face. Hari Lakshaman, his good friend and the ship’s First Officer, grimaced at this reminder as he joined Zach at their usual table in the ship’s mess. Hari was convinced that despite the safeguards incorporated in the ship’s design, the ceaseless bombardment of cosmic radiation was causing irreparable damage to delicate on-board equipment. Some of which belonged to him.

Zach didn’t wait for a reply. So what’s this I hear about your having a new theory for me? They enjoyed these sessions where Hari floated his latest theories, and Zach attempted to shoot them down. It had provided a much needed distraction from the tedium of this voyage now well into its third year.

Zach, hold onto your asteroids, Hari confided conspiratorially, the dangers of cosmic radiation shoved into the background for the moment. I have cracked the code. I have penetrated the inner sanctum, the holy of holies. When Zach failed to respond, Hari looked hurt. I have deciphered the deepest, darkest secrets of the X-drive.

Uh-huh, Zach replied, yawning theatrically as he eyed what passed for coffee at the ship’s nutrition station. Now that he was four hours into his shift, he needed a stimulant, but the ship’s coffee doubled as a nutritive supplement. The ship could not afford the casual luxuries or amenities available on orbiting space stations or the Moon Base. Everything on board had to have utility, including each mouthful of sustenance. It was part of ship’s protocols that all liquids remained in sealed containers, a normal precaution to prevent their escape in case of a failure of the on-board gravitational system. Zach took a cautious sip through his straw and grimaced.

Hari paused and made a face of his own as he tasted his drink. Is it just me or does everything on this ship reek of algae? You can’t get away from the stuff. What I wouldn’t give for a decent cup of chai, brewed with black tea, real milk and cardamom, steaming hot and sickly sweet.

Zach smiled in reply. It was a common complaint which no amount of grousing could cure. The majority of the ship’s food stores was processed in the algae vats. It was a system designed to provide food with maximum nutritive value while utilizing excess carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen into the ship’s recycled air. A host of specialized nanobots converted the algae stew into a variety of differentiated products and drinks, at least by name.

While the ship’s daily menu reflected a surprisingly extensive list of options, the truth was that everything began as algae paste. Today’s special, pasta primavera, was nothing more than algae converted into noodles and vegetables smothered in a modified algae sauce.

Zach’s eyes twinkled at he countered. I’d settle for a cold beer myself. Served up with a hot, crisp kelp burger and a side of seaweed fries.

Their laughter echoed across the room where it caught the attention of Laura Owens, the ship’s Medical Officer. Her eyes brightened as she brought her tray over to join them at the table. Zach and Hari took one look at her algae burger, rolled their eyes, and burst into laughter again. She had caught the tail end of their conversation and took the laughter in stride.

Laugh all you want, but algae is easily one of the most nutritious foods known to humans. It will make you big and strong. That’s assuming you two ever decide to grow up, she added, smiling into her burger.

Yes, Mother, Hari responded. We promise to remember how truly fortunate we are. Hari wasn’t a big man. Now with the shock of dark hair that normally spilled over his face reduced to a dark stubble, he looked smaller than ever. He had chocolate eyes that danced in his face when off duty, unlike their normal intensity while manning his station on the bridge. His skin had paled to the color of café au lait, heavy on the milk, after three years on board.

Laura looked up as her eyes flashed a warning. And don’t even think about singing that silly kelp song. She dipped her eyes, but not before catching the look that passed between Zach and Hari. The two had spent one long, memorable meal break composing an ode to kelp that had run to twelve verses. Laura could still hear the echo of their voices:

Kelp, kelp, the wonder food,

It gives you all you need that’s good.

Steamed or mashed or toasted brown,

It lifts you up when you are down.

Laura smacked her lips as she took an oversize bite of her algae burger. Can’t you guys provide a girl with some stimulating mealtime conversation? She winked at Zach even as she smiled to herself. Zach was at that perfect age: mature enough to be interesting, but young enough to retain something of the boy he had once been. Over the course of the voyage she had come to appreciate the well of humor that lived behind those green eyes. She enjoyed watching as that spark of mischief surfaced for some fun.

Zach winked back and deadpanned, Hari and I were discussing everyone’s favorite subject, the X-drive.

Laura groaned and set down her burger. Lucky me. I get to spend my few precious off-duty minutes talking about algae and engines. Every girl’s dream.

Hari smirked, but backed off when Laura gave him the look. Come on, Laura, he conceded. You know as much about the X-drive as we do.

Which still amounts to a whole lot of nothing, she admitted. From what I’ve heard there may be twelve people in the known universe who understand how the drive works.

Hari shook his head, remembering, Eleven actually. Professor Standiford died three years ago.

Zach turned to Hari, the question in his eyes. Where did you hear that?

I picked it up when we received the information burst from the Mars’ relay station. Sorry, must have forgotten to mention it.

They fell silent for a moment, reminded of how far they had traveled from Earth, propelled at these impossible speeds by the enigmatic X-drive. Laura pushed her tray away, finding her appetite had disappeared. Her smile grew wistful and lost some of its playfulness as she turned to Hari. So, how far have we come?

Even Hari’s ready smile dimmed. He tapped the table to access the ship’s Core as it was still called although the Delta-class no longer had a centralized computing core. Laura shook her head indicating that she didn’t require an exact number. We passed ten light-years on… a week ago if time has any meaning on the edge of forever.

The burger, like the X-drive, was momentarily forgotten. Laura hesitated before voicing the real question that hung over them, that hung over any group who gathered for a meal or a chat or a drink. Do you think we’ll find anything out there? They fell silent as their thoughts drifted to separate corners of the universe.

It had been a bright spring morning just over three years ago when Engineer First Class Zach Travis found himself caught in the press of the crowd squeezed into the chute to pass through campus security. While he shuffled forward, he leaned his head back, taking in the soaring entrance to Mercury Hall, which automatically drew his eyes skyward. Mercury Hall wasn’t one of the larger conference halls scattered across the Academy’s campus, but it was one of the oldest and easily Zach’s favorite.

Built when the glastil technology had first emerged as a practical construction method, the unique fusion of glass, metal and rare earths created a space of dazzling proportions and a profound sense of awe. Many visitors likened the experience of first walking into Mercury Hall much the same as entering one of the ancient cathedrals of Europe. Those soaring lines drew your eyes and perhaps even a piece of your soul heavenward. Only this was a cathedral built to exalt science, a temple dedicated to the worship of technology. The hall’s lofty dome, which at the time had been one of the largest in the world, had inspired generations of cadets.

Like the cathedrals of old, Mercury Hall held secrets. One of those secrets was revealed when the sun struck the building. The interior would fill with a light so sublime, so intoxicating, that it was the closest thing to a religious experience on the Academy’s campus. Mercury Hall held another secret that was only visible when a crowd was present. For the crowd gathered today, however, the secrets they eagerly awaited were not architectural in nature.

Zach allowed the press of people to carry him forward as he approached the security checkpoint. Until yesterday he had been relegated to the pool of candidates who served as backup for those who had been officially selected for the Mission, often referred to by insiders with a capital M. But that had changed when he received his change-of-status notification at 1900 the previous evening.

His new orders required him, along with nine hundred others including the ground crew, to report for today’s briefing on the nature of the mission they had trained for these past two years. People had their own theories as to that mission, of course. Even though they had been firmly cautioned against holding any discussions outside the approved briefings, it was obvious to those who had been selected that it was big, perhaps even the long-delayed Titan expedition.

A low buzz of communal speculation echoed in the hall as Zach finally cleared the checkpoint. He found his seat, high in the back where he could lose himself in the play of light and shadows. Normal Academy protocols allowed participants to attend briefings from their quarters or offices using the Academy’s secure network, starnet. Given the nature of this briefing which was classified ultra-secret, attendance in person was mandatory.

Two rows below, Zach watched as a group of twenty-somethings filed into their seats. The cadets were dressed identically in their grey singlets with the Academy logo, the letters superimposed to form a starburst insignia in shades of blue and gold. They were young enough to project a collective aura of excitement and anticipation. Zach had no doubt they were bright, at the top of their class, their heads full of theories, their dreams full of glory.

At least they could still dream. Zach suddenly felt old compared to their youthful exuberance, if you could call nearly thirty old. Perhaps they might be thrilled at the prospects of voyaging to Titan—Saturn’s largest moon—the only other body in the solar system where surface liquid could be found. Of course, that liquid was in the form of methane or ethane, not Zach’s idea of a day at the beach.

He returned from Titan in a flash only to find himself traveling in another direction, to his past instead. Zach smiled at a memory. It was the echo of his grandmother’s voice reaching across the years, her eyes full of the life that had burned bright for ninety-nine years. You’re only as old as you feel, Grandma Sadie would chuckle while adjusting the straps of her bib singlet, as they prepared for one of their expeditions during the height of summer.

An adventure, grandma called it. Zach allowed himself to be drawn into the memory, reliving it as though it were yesterday. They were hiking up to the ravines above the farm, this particular adventure to harvest the ripe blackberries whose weight threatened to drag the vines to the ground. Their farm was an isolated spot, even then. It was tucked under the shadow of Briery Knob which loomed over the valley where the tiny town of Hillsboro lay nestled. Hillsboro clung to its one claim to fame after four hundred years—the birthplace of Pearl S. Buck, his grandmother would remind him, a famous author from the 20th century.

At the age of six, young Zach could not imagine a time or a world that lay so far in the past. Four hundred years, he exclaimed to his grandmother, his eyes bright at the notion. While most of the small farms in that corner of the world had long since been reclaimed by the mountain forests, his grandmother had managed to find a niche for herself and hold onto the land that had been in her family for generations.

As the Baltimore-Washington-Richmond Metro area expanded to the point where it engulfed Charlottesville and points in between; there was a small, but growing market for what people considered the exotic foods from the past: vine-ripened blackberries, sweet bing cherries, plump raspberries, summer squash, tender asparagus, heirloom tomatoes, black walnuts, orange-gold persimmons and what grandmother jokingly referred to as her apron corn.

Why do you call it apron corn, Grandma? Zach asked as they hiked up the hillside, following a game path nearly overgrown by the sweet grasses of summer. Even though she had told him the story a dozen times before, he loved to watch her light up when she recounted tales from her youth.

When I was your age,—and she would pause to send him a special smile that acknowledged the absurdity of such a notion—my mother would send us to the garden to pick the corn just before we sat down to dinner. She would have the water boiling. We would race back with the freshly picked corn, shuck it on the back porch, brush off the cornsilks and toss the ears straight into the pot. My, oh my, the corn was so fresh and sweet that it melted off the cob right into your mouth.

Can we have apron corn for dinner, Grandma?

She would smile and nod her promise. It would be their reward after a long morning of picking berries. Foods like apron corn weren’t just delicacies. They had achieved almost mythical status and disappeared from all but the most exclusive shops.

A six-year-old Zach would have been amazed to learn that there were individuals who would have gladly paid a king’s ransom to sit down at a meal like his grandmother prepared for a typical summer’s dinner: apron corn or new potatoes swimming in real butter, string beans, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, braised summer squash, buttermilk biscuits with homemade strawberry preserves or tart crabapple jelly, blackberry cobbler or rhubarb custard pie smothered in fresh cream for dessert. Maybe a portion of both if you had been extra-good that day.

Grandma Sadie had found a distributor in Fairfax who catered to a select clientele. Even though the distributor grabbed the bulk of the proceeds, they were able to make a living from the land by working hard all summer.

His grandmother had taken Zach in the year he turned four after his parents had been killed in the doomed Mercury mission. It was the failure of the normally reliable ion drive that had allowed the ship to drift too near the sun. As a matter of protocol, married couples with children were not allowed to serve on the same mission. Still, those rules could be relaxed when mission needs overrode the normal protocols. The Academy had offered to raise Zach as a ward, to enroll him as part of its accelerated program. Only the Academy had not counted on his grandmother. As his legal guardian, she insisted on his return to the farm over the heated objections of the Academy’s bureaucracy.

They had tried to reason with her: Zach would be fast tracked, they argued. He would be given the opportunity that most children could only dream of, to attend the Academy from an early age. He would be groomed to become a future astrobiologist or astrophysicist. It was inconceivable that any parent or guardian would not want this future for their child they persisted. But Grandma Sadie had other ideas about Zach’s future. Her refusals grew less polite as the Academy grew more insistent. She was unmovable. The boy was going home with her.

It was a decision that would color the rest of Zach’s life. Watching the cadets in front of him served as a reminder of the consequences of that choice. If Zach had stayed at the Academy from an early age, he would have been one of them. His future could have held unlimited promise. He could have been a ship’s captain instead of a ship’s engineer.

Because the Academy did not forget those who defied it. And rarely forgave. Zach was no longer angry about the choice his grandmother had made all those years ago. He was old enough now to appreciate his secret treasure. Instead of spending his days locked away in classrooms and drilled on theorems, Zach had been allowed to roam free, to create his own world, a magical world on the farm. There he could explore every nook, every stream, every hidden corner. His grandmother had given him something more precious than gold. She had given him a childhood.

The sound of the speaker’s voice brought Zach back from the green hills of West Virginia to this hall now filled to capacity. The buzz of conversation slowly faded as people turned their attention to the podium.

Good morning, people. If you will take your seats. Knots of people broke up and returned to their seats, the low buzz of conversations gradually dissipating. I would like to welcome you and our distinguished guests to Mercury Hall. To any of you who don’t know me, my name is Dr. Crawley, Chancellor of this Academy.

There was polite laughter. Crawley needed no introduction to this crowd. He was well-known, if not universally loved, by those in attendance. Crawley never forgot for a moment that he reigned as head of the Academy. Some might argue that ensuring his legacy survived to impress future generations consumed most of his attention and energy.

Zach had heard one wit describe him as a small man with a big ego. Zach knew another side of Crawley, a man with his own measure of charm, even charisma, and a sense of humor that could surface unexpectedly. Crawley had demonstrated a surprising level of competence during his long tenure at the Academy which had served to silence most of his detractors.

We are gathered today to talk about the Mission, yes, that Mission, he smiled and waited for the laughter that followed. "The Mission for which you have been so carefully screened and groomed these past years. Behind me our panel of distinguished scientists and academics have gathered to provide you the details we have withheld until now. While they will share with you the nuts and bolts, it is my great privilege to reveal the nature of the Mission itself.

For those of you who are still finding your seats, I urge you to hurry. Because what I’m about to reveal requires that you be seated. He took a breath and held his audience suspended. Silence allowed the anticipation to build until he smiled and made the announcement that would shake the world: Ladies and gentlemen, we are traveling to the stars!

In that moment, Mercury Hall revealed its other secret, one that still had the capacity to astonish those who had seen it before. The glastil dome turned an electric blue-green, pulsing and shimmering like the aurora borealis, reflecting the excitement of the crowd below. The very air seemed charged with that same electricity. People had come expecting an announcement of a mission to further explore Earth’s solar system. But the stars? How could that be possible? How could man travel across distances too vast to contemplate? Only Crawley had said the stars, and individuals turned to each other to confirm they had heard correctly.

People, please, if I may have your attention. The steady roar in the hall began to ebb even as the excitement crested. The dome began to pale although occasional bursts of color swirled high overhead. The audience settled, eager for the next revelation. We have an ambitious agenda for today’s briefing, and I can see that you are eager to have the full story.

Crawley paused to allow another burst of applause to sweep the hall. I would remind you that everything we discuss today is classified ultra-secret. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, can be shared with anyone outside this hall. That includes your spouses, family, friends, and especially the media. No postings, no communicating on your comm units. We need your cooperation to maintain the integrity of this Mission. Let’s begin by reviewing the agenda for today’s briefing which should be popping up on your screens about now.

Zach felt the uproar begin to subside although the group of young cadets seated below were still abuzz. The stars… Even the nearest star, Alpha Centauri, was at least three light-years away, an impossible distance given their current propulsion technology. Zach felt a chill at the thought. A mission to the stars would take lifetimes. Would this be his fate, to spend the remainder of his life on some endless journey to some distant star, never to arrive, much less to return?

Crawley paused to give the audience a moment to digest the agenda before he continued. We have asked one of our most esteemed faculty members, Dr. Volker, to present the background for this Mission. Although Dr. Volker requires no introduction to this group, I should add that he served as one of the principal architects and a guiding light for this Mission. Dr. Volker.

The applause was genuine, bordering on enthusiastic as Volker stepped forward to the podium. He was the picture of the distinguished academic with his graying hair swept back from his forehead. He paused to don a pair of spectacles, an old affectation. Laser-surgery and implants had long banished the need for glasses except as a fashion statement.

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, he began, his voice carrying a hint of a smile. As Dr. Crawley indicated, my task is to provide the background for this Mission, one that is both bold in concept and essential for the long-term survival of the human race. And yes, you heard Dr. Crawley correctly. We are voyaging to the stars.

There were involuntarily gasps as people leaned forward, their attention captured. A few isolated individuals in the audience were congratulating themselves. This was what they had predicted against all odds. "Before I outline the purpose, I wish to put things in perspective. Humans have long-dreamed of traveling to the stars, even before they had any concept of the immensity of the universe and the impossible distances that have until now confined us to our solar system.

"But there’s another reality that is propelling us into the expanse of space. Our planet cannot indefinitely sustain this level of population. I’m not going to stand before you and wave a sign that says: The End is Near. You’ve heard enough from the doomsayers who have broadcast that message for the past several centuries. If you’ll excuse my bluntness, however, the end is nearer than we may think.

I don’t mean to trivialize the progress we have made over the past three hundred years in addressing the problems that have faced our planet. You are all familiar with the long-standing efforts to reverse the effects of climatic change. We have made tremendous strides in eliminating the production of greenhouse gases. We have moved over time from a dependence on fossil fuels to almost complete reliance on sustainable energy sources, particularly solar. We have reversed much of the polar icecap melting and drastically improved the quality of the air we breathe.

There was silence and then a momentary hum in the audience. We have made efforts to reduce the population growth simultaneously, and that has been a painful change for society. Unfortunately, those efforts have not been sufficient. While we have no intention of abandoning our home on this planet, we have little choice but to locate alternative planets that can support future generations of humans. He took off his glasses and appeared to move away from his prepared speech.

Until recently, our only hope of finding a suitable home was within the confines of our solar system. While we have three sister planets—Mercury, Venus and Mars—which have some potential, we have managed only a small outpost on Mars to date. Sometime in the future we will undoubtedly develop the technology needed to terraform planets and moons in our solar system. As things stand, none of these bodies can substitute for this planet we call home. Our best hope lies in locating a world that is Terran-like. And to act while we still have the time.

There was silence as this sobering prospect reverberated through the audience. The glastil dome of the hall had faded dramatically, now a somber gray. Volker removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before he looked up with a smile. I apologize. I seem to have strayed from the topic. He glanced at his monitor and then gazed up at the audience. I can already guess the question that’s on everyone’s mind. So… How are we going to get there?

Chapter 2

THE MISSION

"Terra 12 to Zach. Come in, Zach, Laura repeated, her voice ripe with teasing. You look like you just traveled twelve light-years in the opposite direction."

Oh, he’s just stargazing. What else is new, Hari observed.

Zach blinked and returned across time and space in an instant. Laura swept a hand through her ash blond hair, cut to a short bob per regulations. Unlike some of the women crew, she refused to sport a buzz cut. A woman needs to look like a woman to feel like a woman, she had offered in her defense.

Zach appreciated that she made the effort, especially after these long years in space. Sorry. I was thinking of something that was said at the briefing. He didn’t need to specify which briefing. For those who were in attendance, the briefing would always be that briefing on that fateful day at the Academy.

You mean the day our lives changed forever, Laura added.

The day everyone’s life changed forever, Hari countered and they all found themselves nodding.

Be honest. Did either of you suspect beforehand that this mission involved a voyage to the stars? Laura asked, eyeing them both.

Hari’s eyes lit up. "I did. I bet Robby Sanders—you remember he was picked for Terra 3—I bet him a hundred credits that this mission would involve interstellar travel."

What about you, Zach? What did you think they were planning?

You know how it was. So many rumors floating around. Anyway, I wasn’t tapped to go until the night before when I received my official notice. You remember Chief Engineer Haddad was forced to back out at the last minute. Although how they managed to keep the X-drive secret for all that time…

What I still find hard to believe is that we’re traveling through space at four times the speed of light, Laura offered, shaking her head.

If I were a betting man… Hari started and they all laughed. Well, think about it. If we can travel four times the speed of light, why not a hundred times? Why not a thousand times?

Don’t tell me. Zach raised his eyes to the overhead. This involves your latest theory. You think you’ve found a way to double or triple our speed, right? Hari looked mysterious, and Zach allowed him his moment before he pushed his tray to the center of the table and leaned back. It was story time. When I was a kid…

Hold on, Hari said, raising his hand, palm outward. "Don’t you want to hear my theory? Or are we about to be subjected to another one of your Tales from the Farm?"

Zach just smiled and continued. The protest was part of the play. I used to ride my hoverboard from the farm over to the Greenbrier River. It wasn’t far, a couple of klicks, where I’d meet up with my best friend, Billy Carper. Billy’s father had a rowboat. Well, you’ve probably never seen a real rowboat, but it was a relic from the past. We’d drag the boat to the water, push off from his house and head down the river. In the summer the Greenbrier was so low you could wade across it in most places. We’d drift on the current until we reached the low water bridge where we’d tie up the boat. We’d be lucky to travel two klicks in the whole afternoon.

So what did you do when you reached the, what was it called again, this low water bridge, whatever that is? Hari asked.

It was a good place to catch crawdads, Zach replied as the teasing surfaced.

Dare we ask what a crawdad is? Some backwoods staple no doubt, Laura teased back. She didn’t need to remind him that she was a big city girl. A farm was about as exotic a location as a planet in some remote galaxy.

A local delicacy, Zach grinned. Freshwater crayfish. They’d sure provide a tasty change from seaweed burgers, he added wickedly.

Laura made a face. Ugh. You can keep your nasty crawdads. I’ll stick with seaweed. She caught Zach’s eye. So was there a point to this story or were you just shining a spotlight on your misspent youth?

Zach’s smile was answer enough. It was a shared bond between them, since they had both escaped the Academy pressure cooker, at least during their early years. I was thinking how simple life was once, on a world far away, where rowing a stretch on a river on a lazy summer’s afternoon was adventure enough.

Now here we are all those years later wondering what we’ll find when we tie up this rowboat, Laura replied.

Hari might have been impressed that even the current velocity of the X-drive was no match for the speed of Zach’s mind. Zach found himself back to that day in Mercury Hall, where a smattering of applause greeted Dr. Evangeline Carter who strode to the podium. She was efficiency in motion: the tap-tap-tap of her shoes echoing as she crossed the stage, her gray singlet moving seamlessly with each stride, her shoulder-length chestnut hair bouncing with each step before settling immaculately into place. Although she wasn’t part of the Academy’s permanent faculty, as a guest lecturer she was known to the cadets. So it came as no surprise that she forwent any pleasantries.

You have heard from Dr. Volker, she said as she turned to acknowledge him briefly. He has cautioned us that our world is in danger. He has even offered an estimation of approximately five hundred years before we reach a crisis point. Frankly, I’m less optimistic.

She waved to the holographic display behind her where the solar system floated in shining detail. Where shall we focus our efforts in locating a new home for humanity? It’s our great misfortune that none of the planets or moons in our own solar system are particularly attractive candidates. Advances in terraforming will undoubtedly make a difference one day. But if we have any realistic hope to find an existing planet that will meet our needs, we have no choice but to look outside our solar system.

A sustained buzz filled the hall as heads nodded in agreement. The dome itself began to flicker. Carter stepped away from the podium, to remove that barrier between the audience and herself as she prepared to share another secret. "I know what you’re thinking, certainly what you’ve been taught. Interstellar travel… It’s simply not feasible.

"Even if we ignore the limitations imposed by the special theory of relativity for a moment—and that’s asking a great deal I grant you—given the state of our current propulsion technology… Well, you can do the math. A voyage to even the nearest star, Alpha Centauri, would require more than even a very extended lifetime. As long as faster-than-light travel remains an impossibility, travel to the stars is a pipe dream.

We have long accepted the maxim that we cannot exceed the speed of light. She paused and the hall grew quiet, expectant, the dome reflecting small bursts of color. Dr. Crawley has already informed you that every part of this briefing is classified ultra-secret. Now I’m about to tell you why. She paused to allow the suspense to build. Recently, we had a breakthrough.

Who knows what we’ll find, Zach conceded as he smiled in Laura’s direction. It’s a big universe.

Do you think this is how the sailors felt who accompanied Columbus on his first journey to the New World?

They thought they were sailing to the fabled Orient, Hari interjected.

Laura rolled her eyes in Hari’s direction. So what will we find when we drop out of FTL? Not China, I take it?

Not even close. If we’re lucky, we’ll reach the Tau Ceti system in another six months. If we’re lucky and the Universe is in a generous mood, we might find an inhabitable planet, Hari added.

Define inhabitable, Laura countered.

Ideally, we would locate a planet which would provide an oxygenated atmosphere, surface water, and sunlight sufficient to support human life.

Would it have butterflies? Laura asked with a smile in her eyes.

How about lightning bugs? Zach offered, picking up on the play.

Maybe dolphins and kittens and koalas, Laura countered as she winked at Zach.

Just no mosquitoes, fleas or skunks, Zach added and now they were both laughing.

And don’t forget, it absolutely must have crawdads or we’ll row right past it. Laura found herself laughing so hard that her eyes teared.

Hari was having none of it. While this may be a challenging concept for you two to grasp, life forms that evolved on another planet will undoubtedly be very different from ours. They may not even be carbon-based. They may breathe methane and snort fire for all we know.

Oh boy, dragons, Laura exclaimed as her eyes lit up. Can’t you see it: A primitive planet, overrun with dinosaurs, some of those big, slow-moving brontosauruses lumbering through the swamps.

Then along comes a T-Rex to chomp on it, Zach teased as he reached over and took a giant bite from Laura’s abandoned burger.

Hari snorted. Dinosaurs. Why do people always think dinosaurs? Why do they believe the biggest danger will be some kind of giant predator? The biggest danger—here he wagged his finger at Laura—and something you should know all too well, Ms. Chief Medical Officer, will come from bacteria or viruses or something equally exotic that we have never encountered and have no immunity to. The planet could look like a paradise, but be as deadly as a serpent’s kiss.

Laura pouted. You sure know how to kill a good time. Give me dragons or dinosaurs anytime. But as a doctor, the thought of exotic bacteria was a sobering thought. She did know, better than Hari, that the things you couldn’t see were the things that could kill you.

Zach decided to rescue this conversation from the clutches of killer bacteria and lumbering dinosaurs as he expertly turned it in another direction. "Okay, it’s Hari time. So dazzle us with your latest theory. What are you calling it: The X-drive—The Holy Grail Revealed?"