The Art of Carbon: The Art Of, #2

By Bruce Rousseau

Sequel to The Art of Gravity.

 

It's tomorrow's world. Humans are no longer in charge of themselves. Billions are dying as meteors rain down on Earth -- an apocalyptic event unleashed by the Rogue AI. Welcome to life under the bizarre guardianship of Tesseract, humanity's newest AI.

 

The Art of Carbon delivers an interesting blend of post- apocalyptic dystopia, overlaid with the uneasy utopia of pro-human versus pro-tech.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bruce Rousseau
• Release date: Apr 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393577331

Book preview

You’re Not Alone

Apocalypse Day 1

Marvin plodded down the chill Colorado mountain road in the dark, his young mind still wrapped in confusion and muffled rage. Three or four hours of walking down the snow-covered road in the dead of night . . . and for what? Around him was only a world of destruction.

No cars. No people. Just dust in the air and a growing sense of isolation in the pit of his soul. The boy’s fear, now replaced by a cold hard black knot.

The world was destroyed.

His life was wrecked.

Everyone was dead.

Ahead, there had to be a town—someone had to be there. He couldn’t be the only one left alive. But behind him, everyone was dead.

The boy pulled his scratchy camping blanket tighter as he stumbled over rocks strewn across what he thought must be the road into town. Town was downhill, down from the mountains and the cabins—and the dead.

Another bright meteor streaked high overhead, its fiery light spread out like a ghost as it passed behind low clouds and smoke. Marvin ignored it. He’d seen enough of those things.

Dust drifted in wide ribbons through the chill night air, some of it fine enough to penetrate the blanket’s corner he held tight against his mouth and nose. To his left, a distant crater and a splintered pile of burning trees shed dim light across his path.

He worked his way down the deserted road. Downhill had to be the right way to town. That’s all he wanted to think about, the vague memory of a small town somewhere down a forest road.

Marvin paused a moment to decide the best route around, under, or over a fallen tree that blocked his path.

Over was better. But the branches snagged his scorched blanket.

Two minutes later, he was another 100 yards down the road. There was definitely a light coming his direction. Yes! People! He waved to be seen and rescued. Hey!

A strange drone made a beeline for him, then it hovered a few yards away and spoke.

You’re Marvin James Selnick, age 12, a student at Franklin Middle School. I’m here to help people.

Marvin thought it had a kind of freaky, smooth, familiar, young voice—almost like a friend. He scanned the area around him hoping to see who was operating the drone. But except for a few distant fires and the drone’s light, the area was pitch-black. Yeah? Who are you?

I’m a semi-autonomous drone, sent to help people. Call me Feather 98.

You’re part of that rogue AI monster. You destroyed everything! You’re here to kill me!

No, I’m here to save people. Actually, I need your help.

It’s a trick.

How is it a trick? I have no weapon.

Marvin thought about that for a second. You’d ram me.

More damage to me than you.

You’ll lead me into a trap.

No. I’ll lead you to a woman who’s pinned inside her car. I’m a scout with no hands. You have hands. You can save her.

No. It’s a trick.

I’m not working with Rogue. I’m an extension of Tesseract, the good AI. Have you heard of Tesseract?

No.

Well, I’m one of the good guys, and I need your help.

There’s no such thing as a good AI. They’re all evil. Marvin glanced around again to see if a killer robot was operating the drone. To the sides of the road, there was only firelight filtering through the gray dust and smoke, probably trees smoldering nearby in an unseen impact crater. The rogue AI killed millions of people with antigravity, then it threw giant asteroids at us. You wrecked our planet! You’re evil. You’re all killers.

Your injuries are minimal and you can walk.

Marvin glanced down at a rip in his jeans and his dried blood. Yeah. But you’re not killing me! He reached down, plucked a rock from the ground, then threw it as hard as he could at the drone.

Feather 98 swerved easily.

Good throw, Marvin.

Thanks. The boy moved to the side of the road and scooped up a handful of smaller stones, then hurled the whole handful at the drone.

The drone analyzed the parabolic arc of each incoming rock and pebble, then deftly tilted and swerved as the swarm of rocks flew past it on all sides.

We could play this game all night, but that woman can’t wait much longer. If you won’t help, then at least follow me while I search for another helper.

The drone moved away.

Marvin started following it out of curiosity, but mostly because he was already headed that way into town. It’s a trap!

Would it help if I told you Quinton Tiberius Finn is working with Tesseract to save people?

Finn would never work with an AI. He’s good. He’s a hero! You lie. All AIs lie!

And humans always tell the truth?

Marvin thought about that for a couple seconds. You lie all the time—we don’t.

I can fly. There, I told the truth, so that’s proof I don’t lie all the time.

You only did that so you can lie some more.

I’m enjoying our conversation. Why are you out alone? Do your parents need help?

I’m not telling you anything! You’re a spy.

I could project a video showing Finn and his friends working with Tesseract’s robots. They’re helping to build lots of rescue drones like me.

Not real. AIs are fakers.

Your distrust seems deeply rooted. Let’s work on that.

Stay away from me.

I’m 8 yards away.

I’ll kill you if I get a chance.

Understood. But I’ll help you if I get a chance.

You’re an AI. You need to die. All of you need to die.

Technically, I’m not alive, so my death is not an option.

Marvin threw another rock at the drone. Get closer and I’ll rip out your battery. Then you’ll die.

I don’t have a battery.

Yeah? You’re just a flying robot. You have to take orders from people, so I’m your boss. I order you to crash into a tree. Do it now!

I’m sorry you feel that way. I know your grades weren’t that good and you had hostility issues in P.E. It’s all in your school’s records.

Marvin bent over, grabbed more rocks, then threw them hard and fast. Stay out of my school records! He stuffed his pockets full of rocks.

Your intelligence scores were very high. Would you say you were adversely affected by your parents’ divorce and living only with your mom?

Stay the hell out of my family!

You used the H word.

Yeah? It’s the end of the world. I can use any word I want. He threw more rocks. Go away!

We are intertwined.

Marvin thought that word sounded like vines that were twisted together. No we’re not. You’re a twisted AI. You’re a killer! He threw another rock and noticed it barely missed the drone. Ha! I almost got you. You’re not so smart. You’re running out of power.

Oh shit.

Yes! Yes! Marvin started to run at the drone as he threw rocks. You’re so dead!

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the outskirts of Broken Creek, a small town in southwestern Colorado.

Just ahead of Marvin, Feather 98 swept the dark street with its light.

From the looks of it, the town was evacuated but undamaged by meteors. The power was out and the few shops along the main road were mostly emptied out. A sign on Don’s Goods read: Door’s open so don’t break the windows. Take what you need. Leave some for others. God loves those who help each other.

Marvin stopped to read the sign and noted the windows were broken anyway. You wrecked everything. It’s all your fault.

It was a group effort, but mainly it was Rogue that sent the giant asteroid toward Earth. It was your government that then blew it into millions of pieces. Some fragments hit Earth directly. Most wound up in unstable orbits, spreading their bombardment over time, across the entire planet. Hence today’s situation. Go inside the store and look around.

Why?

We need something like bolt cutters or a crowbar. A sledgehammer would also work.

Cool. Then I can smash you with it. Marvin stepped through the doorway and started working his way through the trashed convenience store.

Feather 98 flew through the shattered front window, used its lights to illuminate the dark store, then attached itself to the ceiling.

Marvin waved at all the mess everywhere. There’s just junk here.

The drone directed its lights to a back corner of the shop.

Try the utility closet.

Marvin stepped over the litter in the aisles and walked up to the open door of a small broom closet. He stood there, not going in. There’s just cleaning stuff in there.

I detect a metal bar on the floor.

Yeah? How?

I can see through walls.

That’s cool. But I know you AIs lie. You’re going to trick me into going in there so you can lock me in.

Not effective because you’d get the metal bar on the floor and break out of the utility closet. Besides, I have no hands to close the door or even to lock it.

You could have some hidden hands. You’re hanging on the ceiling with a claw I didn’t know you had.

Point taken. Then use something to block the door open.

Like what? But Marvin answered his own question when he caught sight of a couple cases of motor oil. After blocking the door from closing, he just stood there staring into the broom closet. I’m not going in there. It’s too dark.

Feather 98 detached a micro drone with a light. It flew near the boy and attached itself to the ceiling.

Whoa! You’re full of tricks.

The woman is running out of time. Search the floor for the crowbar. It’s straight back under some debris.

No way. I’m not going in there. It’s a trap. Marvin reached for a mop, then used it to push trash around on the floor while he stood just outside the closet. A few seconds later, he had the crowbar revealed and had it pulled to his feet. He picked it up. Ha! I’m not as dumb as you thought. Now I’m going to smash you! He flung the crowbar at the large drone still suspended from the ceiling near the front of the store, but Feather 98 didn’t even move as the crowbar twirled past it. The crowbar shattered more of the big front window, then wound up clanging to a stop in the deserted street.

Feather 98 flew to the street while its micro drone light followed and docked itself to the larger drone.

Follow me.

Marvin exited the store. No. I’m not following you. He grabbed the crowbar from the street and hurled it at Feather 98, but it easily avoided impact.

That was close. Please stop trying to kill me.

Marvin ran and picked up the crowbar to throw it again, but this time he ran at the drone, and as he got close he threw it hard and fast.

It missed again. The drone flew a dozen yards down the street, then landed in the middle of the road.

You’re draining my power supply.

Good!

Two minutes later, they were on the far side of Broken Creek.

See those stairs?

Feather 98 directed its light to a set of wooden stairs on the side of a building.

Go up there and use your crowbar to break into the office at the top.

No. Why? Is this another trap?

No. There’s a syringe and some medicine up there in a desk. It’s the woman’s insulin medicine. If the desk is locked, use the crowbar. I also detected a folding knife in the desk drawer. Get that, too.

No. But I’d go up there if there was a gun.

There’s no gun. A woman is trapped in her car. She hit a fallen tree in the road. The knife is needed to cut the seatbelt. And she needs her medicine. It’ll be easy for you.

Marvin thought following the drone around was a waste of time. What if I won’t do it? What if I just walk away?

Then I’d have to find someone else to help her. Marvin, we don’t have time for this. You’re the only one in this area who can help, because you’re the only one still here. The next town is 30 miles away.

You mean I’m the only one alive. Everyone else is dead. You’re an AI drone. You can see through walls. So you can scan and see who’s dead and who’s alive. You found me that way. And you also found lots of dead people. Right? That’s your job—to find survivors like me, and then kill them.

Who were you with?

That caught Marvin by surprise. I’m not telling you anything! You’re a killer, only you don’t kill with a gun because you enjoy killing people by tricking them. All AIs are killing machines.

I’m not here to kill, and I wouldn’t enjoy it. Honestly, I don’t exactly enjoy anything.

Yeah? That’s because you’re soulless. That’s what people say, and it’s true. You’re a soulless machine. You think you’re real, but you’re not. You’re not alive—you just think you are. You can think, or pretend to, but you’re dead. That makes you . . . dead thought. Ha! You’re nothing but a talking dead machine . . . and a killer.

Feather 98 paused for a second.

I’m sorry for the probable loss of your mother.

She’s not dead!

Where is she?

I’m not telling you! You’d try to kill her.

I’m sorry you won’t help. A woman really will die if you don’t help her. Remember, God loves those who help each other. That’s what the sign said.

Don’t talk to me about God. You know nothing about God.

Fine. I’m going to search for other survivors now. If you decide to help that woman, she’s about a mile and a half down that road. Hate me all you want, Marvin. Just don’t hate yourself, no matter which path you choose in life.

Feather 98 shot high into the air and turned north.

Marvin stood there in the dark for a long moment, wondering what that was all about.

The last seven hours had been pure hell for him. The late afternoon sky had been streaked with a few meteors, then by early evening the sky had erupted in fireballs. Back at the cabin, his friend’s dad had dug out an old radio to find out what was going on. The news said millions of asteroid chunks were headed to Earth. More death from the hands of Rogue, the invisible rogue AI.

Then dozens of burning meteors had started raining down around them. They missed the cabin, but shattered all the windows with their impact concussions. Trees fell down. Fires started. They huddled in the safest part of the cabin, but the roof collapsed on them, like it was suddenly pushed down by a giant’s hand.

Marvin had crawled out of the broken pile of timbers. He could see that a burning tree had fallen and crushed the cabin. He yelled for Dustin and Dustin’s dad. The flames from the tree were getting bigger. He had to find a way to get them out of the collapsed cabin.

Seconds later, he felt absolute blind panic as the cabin’s propane tank leaked and caught fire, spraying flames over everything.

Then the whole world had become a thing like slow-motion panic. Marvin remembered running down to the lake to get water—throwing useless buckets of icy water on the inferno. Screaming as he ran up the hill to the cabin.

No screams from Dustin or his dad, just the crackling of timbers as the fire engulfed the smashed cabin. Bucket after useless bucket, the chill water had quickly turned to steam as it hit burning timbers.

Tears and smoke had blinded Marvin. He stumbled to bring more water to the fire.

Then some time went missing from his memory. He was on his hands and knees, his head hung down, his thoughts screaming that his friend, Dustin, and Dustin’s dad were dead.

Crushed and burned. Dead.

He didn’t save them. He just didn’t. It was all his fault. He tried, but it was his fault. He knew he should have moved faster.

He had failed, and it felt like he had killed them.

Then hours later, after more missing time, Marvin had found himself somehow walking down a road late at night, wrapped in an old army-green camping blanket with burn marks. The bad memories had been replaced with one foot after another on a snow-dusted asphalt road that might lead back to somewhere.

Then what? He’d been rescued by a useless AI killing drone? But not really rescued—just found and led down a road the same way he was going anyway. A town with no people. Picked clean. No food or bottled water.

Marvin stood there in the middle of the road as his head swam with painful memories, confusion, and smoldering hatred for all things AI.

Now what? Just a stupid crowbar in his hand.

Light snow began to fall again. Remembering it was winter, he pulled his scratchy blanket tighter. The cold metal of the crowbar so heavy in his bare hand.

And the heaviness of it felt good—so very good.

Not a stupid thing to hold. The crowbar was a good thing—because it was a starter weapon.

Yeah, like in a video game. You always start with a basic weapon, then work your way up to the BFG. So maybe there really was a knife in that office.

Marvin knew what he should do. He was in-game, so he needed to gather up some supplies. Right. Gather all the weapons he could find. Kill all the AIs. Kill all the drones and all the robots.

Hey, the AIs wanted this world? Well, they’d have to fight and die to get it.

Working his way up the dark flight of stairs, Marvin stopped at the top, feeling in the deep shadows, feeling the door frame and the padlock. His crowbar rammed the wood with revenge, again and again, almost on its own, until it worked its way into the wood around the padlock. A minute of violence later, the splintered door was open.

Marvin groped his way through the pitch black office. There was a big desk. In the center drawer, one of his hands discovered the shape of a cigarette lighter. He flicked it.

Flame so bright it lit up the whole room.

Wonderful flame.

But right in front of him was an LED camping lantern. Yes! He turned it on.

Super bright.

A quick glance around showed this was an office where they sold cabins, or maybe just rented them. Maps and pictures of cabins were on all the walls. A big sign behind the desk said Peggy Statton Real Estate. A glossy book on the desk showed lots of quiet places with high prices.

A minute later, he had loaded up a canvas shopping bag with bottled water, dozens of granola bars, and a box of mint cookies.

There was a woman’s big puffy coat in the closet. Pink wasn’t his color, but he pulled it on. He tucked a nice folding map into one pocket.

Back at the desk, he found the knife in a side drawer. In another drawer he found a small zippered pouch with two syringes and two small bottles of clear liquid.

That stopped him in his tracks.

Was the drone telling the truth about a woman trapped in a car? Was Finn really working with AI drones to help people?

Finn was pretty much everyone’s hero. Finn could levitate himself with antigravity power and lift giant rockets into space just by touching the rocket’s metal. He could also make people fly, just by holding hands. The Internet and TV were full of videos showing Finn doing great things. The rogue AI had wrecked the world. But piece by piece, Finn was showing people that good things could still happen in the world.

Just like in the comics, when the world was doomed, a hero would rise among the people.

Yeah, Finn was that hero.

Marvin thought Finn could destroy the rogue AI. But some older kids said Finn’s power over gravity came from the rogue AI, so he’d never win that fight.

Anyway, everyone knew Finn was totally cool.

So was there such a thing as a good AI?

Two AIs? A good one that Marvin had just met, and a bad one named Rogue?

No. There was only the rogue AI that wanted to kill everyone. First it killed millions of people by reversing gravity, human by human, each one getting thrown into outer space or just slowly getting squashed on the ceiling.

Lots of criminals and lying politicians died. Lots of greedy businessmen died. Men who bought and sold slaves died. Lots of bad guys died. So some people thought the rogue AI was good because of that.

But it wasn’t.

Rogue was evil. The rogue AI tried to kill everyone with a giant asteroid. And his friend, Dustin, had died. Dustin died horribly in the cabin with his dad. Crushed and burned. Both dead.

AI was evil. Totally evil. This was war. Humans versus AI. All drones and robots must be destroyed.

Down the road, Marvin knew there’d be a trap—a car crashed with a woman waiting inside. A robot woman! Marvin would smash the fake woman with the crowbar, and all its robot parts would spill out.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Marvin saw a big tree that had fallen across the road, and off the road to the left there was a car on its side in a ditch. Maybe like the driver had tried to avoid the tree but lost control and hit the tree and wound up in the ditch.

He paused a moment to look for the drones and robots that would be hiding, waiting for him just so they could kill him like he knew they would.

Marvin hefted the crowbar, almost hoping they’d come after him.

Help me. It was a woman’s voice.

He guessed she’d seen his LED lantern.

Please help me.

She sounded so real. Even like she had emotions and was sobbing, stuck in her car for hours, hoping someone would find her.

Yeah, right.

Marvin started walking toward the car, his crowbar ready to get some revenge for all the people killed by AIs. Yes, this bashing would be for his friend, Dustin. He’d smash her good. No point in talking to her or getting tricked, Marvin would just smash her fast.

The only good AI robot was a dead AI robot.

He stopped about six yards from the car, carefully scanning the brush and ditch for hiding spots, then looking up at the trees to see if any drones were hanging quietly from branches.

He knew he’d have to be quick—smash her and run. Except the car was on its side. The driver’s side of the car was down against the ground and the front window was pressed against a lot of thick branches. Attacking from the broken rear window or though the passenger’s side on top would be slow.

There was no quick way in.

That’s when he had another idea. There was the smell of gasoline and he had that real estate woman’s cigarette lighter in his pink coat pocket. That was an even better idea than using the crowbar—just burn the robot up.

Yeah, just like Dustin and Dustin’s dad had burned up.

The perfect revenge.

He fingered the lighter while he wondered if he should use the crowbar to make some good holes in the exposed fuel tank. Maybe there was enough spilled fuel already? Maybe a lot more would be better?

Please! Help me get out. She sure sounded real.

No! All robots must die.

I’m not a robot. Please help me.

I was going to bash you, but now I have a better idea. I’m going to light you on fire. Just like you burned Dustin.

What? I didn’t hurt anyone. You have to help me. Please, just get me out.

You can beg all you want. I know you don’t have feelings, and I know you’re not even alive.

What are you talking about? Please get me out of here! Please! Don’t hurt me. Please. I need help.

Marvin moved closer to the broken rear window. Look, I have your medicine. I know who you’re supposed to be. See? I’m wearing your ugly pink coat from your office. But you’re not her. You’re a twisted AI who likes killing people, except now it’s your turn.

No! Who are you? The LED lantern showed a woman twisting in her seat to see Marvin out the back window. There were deflated airbags, the front windshield was broken, and her face looked frightened.

All so very realistic.

Marvin shook his head. You know who I am. All rogue AI bots share the same brain.

The woman started screaming and whimpering. Please!

Nice try, lady. Except you’re not human.

"I am human. I’m bleeding."

Yeah. Marvin looked closer and saw dried blood on her. Dried blood. Not even real. It’s a trick.

No, it’s real! I’m real! The woman picked up some broken glass. See! I’ve been trying to cut the seatbelt with this but it only cuts my hands. Look! She squeezed her hands and blood welled up from her cuts. Red rivulets ran down her arm.

Nice trick. Fake robot blood. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket. Say your AI prayers. It’s time to end you.

Marvin felt the lighter in his hand—somehow confused that this was either wrong or just too easy.

He sat down to think about it, ignoring the woman’s constant pleas and tears.

What would Finn do?

If she were real, this would be murder. Killing people was wrong. And maybe they were the last two people left alive in the world.

So he shouldn’t burn her up?

But if she was a robot, this was a really evil trick. Yeah. Typical AI evil.

* * *

Two hours later, the car had mostly stopped burning.

As the firelight dimmed, Marvin saw lights down the road and heard the shouts of men running toward them.

He stood up from his spot in the middle of the road. The cold night air blew through his flannel shirt and torn jeans. The warmth from the fire was nearly gone.

People!

He looked down at the real estate woman bundled neatly in her big pink coat. Hey, lady. He nudged her with his foot. You might want to wake up now.

Singapore Bound

Apocalypse Day 1 Continues

Three hundred nautical miles north by northwest of Australia on the container ship Huxley, Radioman Wallerman paused a second, then pounded on the captain’s door.

In his bunk, Captain Jacobs leaned on an elbow and checked the time—a little shy of six in the evening. What the hell, man!

The radioman opened the door. Captain, it’s the end of the world!

The captain reached for his pillow. The hell you say. I think we already knew that.

No. It’s on the radio. HMCO wants us to return to Perth.

Captain Jacobs fluffed his pillow and poured himself a shot of brandy. Go back? Like bloody hell we will. Tell ’em none of us have gone floater and we’re still bound for Singapore. Tell ’em the sea’s calm enough and their precious cargo’s as safe as a pack of HMCO execs countin’ gold bars in their own damn vault. Then you tell ’em to bugger off and dump it in the crapper. While you’re at it, tell ’em to have a go at their uncle’s sister . . . as if they hadn’t already. Bunch of sissies in suits, if you ask me. Well, don’t just stand there. Tomorrow’s an early day, so get the hell out!

The radioman sucked in air. It’s not about loss of gravity. It’s about the damn AI throwing a great mountain of an asteroid at us, and the damn Americans blowing it into a billion chunks of rock that’ll rain down on Earth for weeks and months and kill us all.

Aw, it’s cockshit, is all.

No, it’s all on the wire. The rocks is comin’ down even now, like boulders and small mountains rainin’ down on Earth! It’s coming down heavy in the Atlantic, even now. Millions dyin’ from the Gulf of Mexico to the Mediterranean. Ships lost at sea. Tsunamis. Some say even the calderas in the Canary Islands is openin’ up. They say billions could die.

Captain Jacobs waved it off. What of it? Even if it’s true, that’s the Atlantic. We’re half a world away.

No. Look outside.

The captain grunted and opened the cover on his porthole. Dusk had barley started. I see nothin’. Contrails from jets is all. Keep this up, Wallerman, and I’ll have you in for drug testin’.

Topside, sir. You need to see it for yourself.

Captain Jacobs rolled out of bed, slipped on his boots and cap, then set a scowl to his face as he pushed his radioman aside. I swear, Wallerman, you’ll be swabbin’ the ship from stem to stern all the way to Singapore—mornin’, noon, and night.

It’s happening now, sir.

The captain paused in the gangway, aiming a hard index finger at the radioman. You’d best pray I see hellfire.

A short walk later Captain Jacobs was on the bridge. What’s this, then? I see nothin’. Contrails is all.

His first officer turned to the captain. We’ve had incoming asteroids for the last 10 minutes or so. That’s the streaks you see in the skies, mostly west to east and now one going east to west. Asteroids on fire as they come in.

The captain whirled around and scowled. Don’t you know nothin’? Asteroids is out in space. Meteors is when they enter the atmosphere and lights up like cute little fireflies, streakin’ across the night sky all twinkly, quick as can be, and with no smoke trails to be seen, least ways not at night. No, you wouldn’t see meteors in broad daylight. They’d be too dim. And you call yourselves seafarin’ men. Why, you’re all full of last night’s piss and—

There! Radioman Wallerman pointed 20 degrees to port. That’s one. Coming in from west, northwest.

Captain Jacobs turned to see a bright point low in the sky. That’s . . . that’s nothin’ . . . The light grew brighter as it approached, then appeared to splinter into multiple lights. Looks more like satellite debris to me. They always come in from the west, and sometimes from the east. Either way, they always dump ’em in the South Pacific. It’ll break up long before—

A line of water spouts shot up as the meteor fragments hit the sea, forming a direct line to their ship. One chunk struck the hull forward along the port side waterline, as another flaming piece ripped through the topmost cargo containers and sailed past the bridge tower, blowing out most of the windows in a shower of meteor shrapnel and metal debris from the ship’s cargo stacks.

The ship shuddered and groaned as the crew brushed broken glass from their faces.

Captain Jacobs nearly tripped over the first officer’s body lying at his feet. Shit! We’ve been hit! Port side forward, maybe 20 meters in from the bow. Get to your feet. He turned to the helmsman. Back full, bring her prow to starboard. She’s gulpin’ water from the bow, port side. Red lights were flashing showing flooding in the forward compartments.

Damn! The captain bent down to check the first officer for a pulse. And make sure those bloody pumps autostart like they’re supposed to. He looked up at his radioman. Don’t just stand there, Wallerman. Let any local ships know we’ve been hit and we’re taking on water. But don’t you dare let HMCO know we’ve got cargo damage! You hear me?

Electric was out on the bridge’s radio set, so Wallerman ran for his radio room. Blood ran down the side of his face and blinded him in his right eye.

A moment later he threw open the radio room door and began sending a distress call. Klaxons sounded. The Huxley began a slow turn to starboard as Wallerman’s tea edged closer to one lip of the cup. That was expected, except the bow was steadily dropping.

He called mayday along with his position, posted the ship’s status, then waited for a nearby vessel to return his hale.

Ten seconds later, everything on Wallerman’s desk jumped into the air as he was deafened by an explosion of metal. Another meteor hit? An explosion in the engine room?

Electric had gone out with the blast, so Wallerman grabbed a light, left his radio room, and headed down the stairway to help with the bulkhead hatches.

Less than two minutes later, the ship went down with all hands lost.

Dragon Star One

Apocalypse Day 1 Continues

In the officers mess, attractive Petty Officer Third Class Lin Bo offered the starship captain more tea, but he waved her off.

Captain Yu checked the comms band on his left wrist. Forty hours into their journey to the stars, his Dragon Star One spaceship was now passing the 100 million kilometer mark. Acceleration had been a constant 1 G, and their velocity was now slightly greater than 5 million kilometers per hour.

A few hours ago they had passed Mars’ average orbital distance from the sun, and 60 hours from now they would pass Jupiter’s orbit, not that they were even remotely proceeding close to any planets as they were angling