Sentinel

By Roger Alan Bonner

Sentinel is a space opera and a meditation on mortality and self-awareness.

Pete Wilson, a software engineer, is part of a crew dispatched to an asteroid to build a large telescope array. His main task is to install a master computer to operate and manage the array.

Later, the computer awakens. One might say, it learns to identify its fingers and toes. It learns, what is mine, what is me, and what is neither. Pete becomes its first friend. It acquires a name – Mulligan.

A visit from an alien species interrupts life. A war breaks out. Mulligan learns about fortitude and friendship.

And it learns that mortality requires courage, which all self-aware entities need because nothing under the sun lasts forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Frog Books Company
• Release date: Mar 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386983712

Roger Alan Bonner

Roger Alan Bonner is a retired economist and ersatz mathematician, now busy creating works of fiction. He works primarily in science fiction because science is exploding these days.   He retired from Washington, D.C., spent time in waterlogged Florida, and then escaped to the Triangle are of North Carolina. It is a beautiful place, which the hurricanes often miss, filled with warm, bright, interesting people. He has two daughters and usually does not know where they are.  He likes baseball, the Outer Banks, chocolate cream pie, dancing, music, and is a huge fan of painter Vincent van Gogh, home run king Barry Bonds, guitarist Al DiMeola, and actress Minnie Driver.  Contact him at rogeralanbonner.com or leave an email at [e-mail].

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Also by Roger Alan Bonner

Sentinel

The Vote Trader

Red Night Revenge

Milky Way Tango

Milky Way Boogie 

Milky Way Gala

The Belt Stories (series)

Thirds

Thirds Rising

Thirds Aflame

The Nebula Tales (series)

Copyright, Disclaimer, and Keywords

©2019 Red Frog Books Company. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, please reproduce no part of this story in any manner without written permission from the copyright owner.

My thanks for the beautiful image by CharlVera from Pixabay, on which the book cover is based. Book covers © 2019 Red Frog Books Company. Published by Red Frog Books Company.

This is a work of fiction, created to entertain the reader. Any legal or natural person, place, event, or institution mentioned herein is a product of the author's imagination or is used as a fictional element of a story. Any resemblance to a real person, place, event, or institution is coincidental and unintended.

Keywords: alien invasion, artificial intelligence, asteroids, Marines, robots, romance, space opera, space war, telescopes, vacuum, waltz.

Dedicated To

Kenneth Pryor Boner

1916 to 2007

And

Katherine Mitchell Calhoun

1918 to 1962

It’s a great life if you don’t tire.

A New Job

Pete Wilson stood in the public terminal of Building D, a single piece of luggage at his feet. It had a few acres of floor space, travel counters in the middle, and rows of seating on the sides. He was exhausted, his face slack, as he stared at the stars through the transparency overhead. He desperately wanted to return to his quarters and lie down, go back to sleep, and wake up much later. But the little compartment that had been his no longer was.

Over two hundred people were standing nearby, co-workers and colleagues. A few of them were talking quietly, in low tones as tired people will do.

Wilson pulled out a cellphone and checked messages. There were none. He pocketed the phone and looked at his watch, which read 6:55 AM. Why couldn’t we take off at a civilized hour? Like... I don't know... noon?

Next to him, a woman said, Ah, stop bitching, Pete. You can sleep on the shuttle.

Wilson turned to Bethany Johns, a round, middle-aged woman with gray hair and your mother’s sense of humor. Hey, Bethany. Good morning. You looking forward to this joy ride?

Wouldn’t miss it for the world, she said. I’ve been reading up on our asteroid. ES 381 is seven kilometers across. It’s a trojan, following Jupiter along with several thousand of its closest friends. Getting there in one piece will be... challenging.

I think we'll be okay, Wilson said. And we get to lose weight, right? Go where there’s no gravity. The last resort, I've tried everything else.

Pete, your problem is, you eat your cooking.

Of course, I eat my cooking. I took cooking classes. I was hoping to meet a woman. That didn't work, but I learned to cook, then I learned to eat my cooking. Then I got fat. He sighed. It did not go as planned.

What do you weigh?

Wilson thought for a moment. Here? Maybe a hundred kilos, I hope.

Bethany grinned. On the asteroid, it’ll be ten.

Excellent. Wilson thought, I can take up jogging again, see if I can break my speed record. Except ... what is escape velocity on the asteroid, exactly? I need to check that out. He turned and looked at Bethany. You all packed up?

She nodded. I loaded most of my stuff into a container. I won't see it until they finish the residences. Until then, I'll be an old co-ed living out of a backpack.

Wilson said, They’ll finish before you know it. They completed the reactor and the primary telescope. They’re putting the last touches to the big dome. That’s why we’re taking off now. They waited until they had somewhere to put us when we arrive. They’re probably going through a last-minute rush as we speak. Wilson thought, we can count on having to repair a few things.

She grinned. Some things never change.

He nodded. Welcome to project management. For a minute, neither spoke. Wilson saw a friend in the crowd and waved at him. The man smiled at Wilson but did not approach. 

A week in space, Bethany said. I hope you packed a book. Or a few.

Wilson smiled. My library's on a comp pad, but I'll probably sleep most of the way. It's one big jump, but the last several thousand kilometers could take two or three days.

Bethany nodded. Proceed with care.

He grinned. Yeah, let's arrive in one piece. Surviving would be good; I am in favor of surviving. He paused. You know, we'll be rich when we leave. Almost rich. That's a plus. When you get back, you can vacation somewhere nice.

Argentina, maybe, she said.

Waterfront property and lots of steak? Not a bad choice.

I’d do it for less. For half, she said.

I’m not so sure. Living on an asteroid. Not null grav, but close. Folks don't line up for that. And vacuum is scary. He thought about the risks then shrugged. But they've got their reasons. The asteroid has minimal light pollution. And it’s big enough to hold a telescope system, with a reactor, maintenance, and software support, and room for housing and personnel support.

Is it worth it? We already have telescopes orbiting Earth. Mars too.

Wilson shook his head. Not good enough.

If you say so.

Hey, light pollution’s a bitch. Orbiting a planet, you're blinded. Partially blinded.

I’ll take your word.

That’s the spirit, Wilson said.

At that moment, the intercom announced: Attention, Trojan Asteroid Shuttle 381 is now open for boarding at gate 16. Departure in fifty-eight minutes. All aboard, please.

Wilson bent down,