Android Ship

By Stefan Braddock

In the year 2069, Dr. Jayson Kenly has become the most hated man alive, although hes wronged no one and committed no crime. He has become a symbol representing peoples fears of artificial intelligence, which emerge as he gathers a crew of sentient androids to embark on a long and perilous voyage.

Kenly and his androids travel into space in search of clues that point toward alien life, while seeking to further humanitys knowledge. Each android has its own personality, and during their voyage, they, along with Dr. Kenly, discover incredible secrets about themselvesand their mission. As they set out to explore the solar system, they soon learn that the fate of the earth may ultimately depend upon their success.

In this science fiction novel, a human scientist sets out on a journey through the solar system with a crew of androids, where they find that the future of humanity is in their hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480858763

Stefan Braddock

Stefan Braddock grew up reading the classic science fiction stories of previous generations. He strives to give young readers the same sense of awe and adventure he felt from those masterful books. He currently lives in Pennsylvania.

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ANDROID SHIP

STEFAN BRADDOCK

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Copyright © 2018 Stefan Braddock.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Interior artwork by Kira Bishop. Contact Kira at [e-mail].

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5875-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5874-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5876-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018904427

Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/24/2018

CONTENTS

Launch Day: July 18, 2069

Day 2

Day 3

Day 22

Day 93

Day 112

Day 174

Day 181

Day 239

Year Three

Year Four

Year Five

Year Six

Year Seven

Year Eight

Year Nine

Year Ten

Yeavr Forty-Three

Year Forty-Five

Year Forty-Six

Year Forty-Seven

Year Seventy-Seven

Year Seventy-Eight

Year Seventy-Nine

Year Eighty

Year 289

Year 300

Year 375

Year 376

This book is dedicated to the more than 150 real-life space explorers and test pilots who never came home.

LAUNCH DAY: JULY 18, 2069

D octor Jayson Kenly knew he was the most hated man alive. He accepted the fact as true, even though it baffled him. Kenly had committed no crime, had wronged nobody. He was a quiet, humble man, a scientist, who worked to further human knowledge. But, unwittingly, he had also become a symbol. The strange thing about symbols was that people either loved them, or as in his case, hated them.

Now Kenly paced the crew lounge, waiting for it all to end. He glanced at a corner shelf, where his gray tabby lay curled in sleep.

Like your new home, Cosmo?

The cat lifted his head, blinked, and returned to slumber.

Kenly took his pad and scrolled the news feeds. A mistake, since he was the top story. He swiped past photos of himself and his ship, the Terran Emissary—or Emi, as he liked to call her. A few feeds aired clips from his farewell message.

He stopped at live coverage of an angry protest. Thousands of people were yelling and chanting, fists pumping, faces red with rage. The mob swirled outside the launch facility’s gates, just a few thousand meters from the ship. He thought of going to Emi’s observation deck, to watch in person, but then realized they might see him. No need to fuel their rage.

Doctor Kenly, a soft voice called.

Yes, Emi.

Mission Control requests you prepare for launch.

Very well.

He scooped Cosmo from his shelf. The cat yawned but didn’t complain.

The ship’s cockpit, cramped and warm, hummed with raw current. He zipped Cosmo into a canvas sling, then climbed into the pilot’s seat. Soft gel cradled him as he buckled the mesh webbing.

T-minus five minutes, Emi announced.

Kenly wiped his palms on his flight suit and focused on breathing normally.

His mind dialed up the Challenger disaster of 1986. A space shuttle exploded after launch. The astronauts were still alive for their three-minute plunge to the Atlantic. Three full minutes to ponder your death.

Kenly shivered. His fingers trembled.

T-minus three minutes, said Emi.

The Challenger accident happened more than eighty years ago, he told himself. Ancient technology. Much safer today.

He closed his eyes and visualized his ship on the launch pad. Four powerful boosters clung to the hull, ready to heave Emi skyward. Each slender rocket held enough fuel to vaporize the ship.

The protestors were still out there, watching and waiting. They might witness his death. He imagined their upturned heads, transfixed by the fireball in the sky. Then, as its meaning dawned, they would cheer. They would celebrate his end.

T-minus one minute. Fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight.

Emi, mute countdown!

He craned to check on Cosmo, who was crouched in his sling, with wide eyes and flat ears. A low vibration grew to a rumble as the boosters sparked to life.

Overhead, a red ABORT lever beckoned. A simple flick of this switch would make him safe. The boosters would die and he’d walk away from the mission. His parents and sister would welcome him home. He’d find a cozy job at a research lab, and maybe even marry.

The rumbling turned to thunder. Kenly pretended the red lever didn’t exist.

Cosmo meowed into the deafening roar.

Hang on, buddy!

Crushing weight pushed Kenly into the gel padding. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. He grunted, forcing air into his lungs. The seat’s webbing squeezed his legs and torso, keeping the blood from leaving his brain.

Beyond the cockpit windows, a pale sky darkened. Already they were higher than any airplane. When the sky turned cobalt, he knew they were leaving the stratosphere.

A loud ka-chunk shook the ship, followed by another.

The first-stage boosters have fallen away, Emi stated.

That’s nice.

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The thunder softened to a growl. The windows showed only darkness, suggesting they had reached Earth’s thermosphere.

He imagined the protestors, far below, packing up to go home. Terran Emissary was gone. Now they could pretend the ship, its captain, and its evil cargo had never existed.

Kenly felt a chill of total isolation. He missed his family, his coworkers, even the protestors. They were gone, and he would never see any of them again.

Ka-chunk, ka-chunk.

Second-stage boosters away, Emi said.

Silence, stark and lonely.

Cockpit instruments glowed like holiday lights, but the windows shone haunting black. Lazy movement caught Kenly’s eye. His pad hovered in midair, no longer a prisoner of gravity. He reached out and tapped a corner. The pad spun and wobbled.

Launch sequence complete, Emi stated. Startup of the fusion drive will take three hours. Doctor Kenly, you will experience zero-g during this period.

That’s fine. Null gravity makes my next job easier.

He unbuckled and felt giddy freedom. For the first time in his life, Kenly moved without gravity’s anchor. He laughed as the cockpit twirled. But the human body relied on gravity, and as Kenly frolicked, his brain grew disoriented. He felt a twinge of nausea, and grabbed a handhold.

In null-g training, they’d said to focus on a single object until the nausea passed. He chose Cosmo. The sling-wrapped tabby seemed content.

You should stay put for now, Kenly said, patting him on the head.

He pushed on the handhold and coasted from the cockpit. In the ship’s main corridor, a row of ladder rungs ran along the wall. Kenly took hold of one and launched himself down the corridor.

Too fast, he realized, as his heartbeat spiked. Instinct told him to grab a rung, but he resisted. A sudden stop might dislocate his shoulder. Instead, he touched the passing rungs with his fingertips, slowing to a safe speed.

The ship’s cargo bay held a lifetime of supplies and spare parts. Kenly shook his head as he glided past rows of crates stacked to the ceiling. The mission planners sure went overboard, he thought. But then again, maybe not. Where he was going, there would be no shopping.

His search ended with a stack of three oblong crates. They resembled coffins. The status panel on each crate was lit up green, a relief after the shock of launch. He undid the straps and guided each one to the corridor, then tethered them like the cars of a train. Gently, he led his convoy to the crew lounge.

The first crate he opened contained a woman with freckled cheeks and crimson hair. She appeared dead, lying there pale-faced and stiff, but Kenly knew better.

You’ve got to have Faith, he said with a smile.

DAY 2

T he engineers had warned him it might be awkward. They were right. Kenly and his android crew sat around the table in silence. He introduced himself and welcomed them, but got blank stares in return. The andies lacked social ability. An out-of-the-box andy had no skills, just a quenchless thirst to learn.

Kenly set his coffee mug on the table. A simple act, but after zero-g it felt luxurious. The thrust from Emi’s engines provided Earth-like gravity.

Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourselves, he suggested.

More blank stares.

He turned to the red-haired woman. Please, tell us your name.

My name is Faith,