Sol's Horizon

By Aaron Strent

About the Book
Ever wonder what life would be like in another millennia or so? Maybe we'll have the solar system colonized and have figured out the secret to travelling at the speed of light. Join Leon, a future HOVAC (Heating, Oxygen, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning) technician as he guides you through our solar system in the year 3482 while meeting new friends and tackling some adventures!

About the Author
Aaron Strent has been writing stories for about 25 years. He's an avid hiker, musician, and variety video game streamer.
Aaron loves science fiction and has been enthralled with learning about and exploring different philosophies and ideas involving the future of humanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798885278812

Book preview

Prologue

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Welcome to Valcon City

Welcome to Valcon, the technological center of the galaxy. It’s recently become the new capital of the solar system. I’m not particularly fond of that, personally. I preferred Gatlin City back on Mars, when it was the capital, but oh well. It just so happens this new one’s back on Earth, which I’ve only been to once or twice. I live on Ganymede, so that just makes it further away now. Oh, I apologize, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Leon Gilder. I’m 34. I own my own HOVAC (Heating, Oxygen, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning) company that oversees a good portion of the galaxy. I spend a lot of time traveling between jobs, living out of my work van, and am responsible for oxygen, heating, and ventilation systems of about 100 major institutions and even more private homes ranging from Earth all the way out to Neptune. It’s important work, but kind of a standard job for someone who grew up in the Jupiter orbit.

Anyway, Valcon is a 3-tiered metroplex covering most of what used to be Toronto to Quebec City, and New York State to Nova Scotia. I’ve always wondered how long it took to build. It’s hella massive. It’s usually the first thing you notice about the planet when approaching it, unless you’re seeing the opposite side which then, of course, it’s the crater field that used to be Russia. Valcon is where everyone wants to be, I guess. I wasn’t always a fan of large concentrations of people in one place, but I suppose other people like it for the most part. I’m currently on my way out of this crazy joint.

This job was a lot more hectic than what I’m used to. Normally I show up, air lock the section that I’m working on, and fix any damages or leaks to the system, but this trip has been a little different....

part_1.eps

Chapter One

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Leaving Ganymede

About a week or so ago I was working another job right in my hometown of Loreli on Ganymede when I received a call from an old friend of mine. I wasn’t expecting to hear from him, but maybe he was just back home at the same time I was and wanted to grab a drink. I answered my comm and he greeted me in his usual friendly tone.

What’s up, buddy!? How you doin’? he said; I could hear the smile on his face somehow.

I’ve been good, Matt! I’m in Loreli right now for a job. How are you? I replied.

Even better! I have something for you that you might be interested in. It’s a big job over on Earth. Would you wanna swing by Murphy’s for dinner and I’ll give you the file? I got Ned with me today.

Sounds great, my friend. I haven’t seen Ned in a year or so now. It’ll be great to catch up. How’s 5 work for you?

Just fine. We’ll see ya then!

I thought, Great! Big jobs usually mean I can take like 3 months off and relax afterward. It’ll be nice to catch up with Matt and Ned too... it’s been a while. I continued working on fixing this old lady’s AC/Heating fluctuator on her oxygen system, handed her a bill, she handed me a check, and I got in my van and headed home.

Did I mention I love my van? It’s like a mobile home with hyperspace compatibility for gate hopping. It’s an older model, and I have sunk more than a few checks into working on it before, but when it’s running there isn’t anything else in the galaxy that can match it for comfort. It’s got a jacuzzi, foldout kitchen, and full-sized bed just for me and my cat, Rio (orange tabby, very mouthy, sheds a lot... love him to death). It’s got a cargo bay in the very back and I also installed the oxygen and life support systems myself. The whole thing is controllable by my comm if I feel like it, but the chair I got in the cockpit is just so damn comfy….

Anyway, I loaded my tools up, hopped in the driver’s seat, lifted out of the driveway, and made my way home (which was much less impressive). It was an empty apartment with hardwood floors, and it was always pretty drafty. However, I needed to do laundry and restock the van with food for a trip to Earth. Big jobs usually take about a week to 2 weeks to complete, and Earth was always expensive as hell. After packing for the trip and grabbing a shower I left for Murphy’s Tavern.

Murphy’s is one of my favorite places on all of Ganymede. It was originally the pub where the terraformers of the moon built the first camp... ya can’t get any more original. The place was a lot different now, of course. Being in business five hundred years requires some changes. It was in an alleyway lit up only by various LED lights that were toned down to resemble the old neon lights of the pioneers.

I pulled up to the place and walked inside. Matt and Ned were there waiting for me. Matt was a tall, skinny fellow with glasses and short hair, and Ned was also tall with glasses and short hair, a little bit older, but not noticeably. I used to work with both of them…nice guys.

What’s up, buddy? Matt greeted me, shaking my hand.

Hey, dude, how’ve you been?

I’m good. Just thought it’d be cool to catch up. Hear you’re doin’ well out on your own now.

Yeah, thanks to you guys, of course. How’s your folks?

They’re good. Runnin’ a business gets tiring at their age, but you know how they are about that.

We sat down at the bar and ordered a few shots before dinner. Rum was my drink. Matt was more of a tequila guy. Ned didn’t drink.

After 2 shots Matt looked me in the eye, and said, You won’t believe what this job’s payin’.

Yeah? What’s the word?

I’m not going to say anything else. Here, just take this file they sent me, and when you open it up it’s got all the details in it. I will say that it’s in Valcon, and it involves the NCSM.

Damn... sounds like big money then. I’ll look at it when I get home. Now, tell me how you’re likin’ the new place out in Davomet.

We all caught up over dinner and a good time. I went to my van and crashed there for the night. Woke up with Rio sitting on my chest staring at me, and I decided I should get up.

I fed Rio, started the van, and headed home. When I arrived, I got out the file that Matt gave me and popped it into the terminal in the kitchen. The whole house zinged with a neon blue light, and a strange jingle happened.

Greetings, I am the Sol Intelligence Network, also known as the Sin Project. You may call me Sol. Might I have your name? the program spoke.

I was startled, mostly from the heightened volume of the voice, but nothing out of the ordinary, programs do that all the time.

Leon Zachary Gilder.

Leon Zachary Gilder, the program repeated using my voice. It then continued in its standard preprogrammed voice. Leon Zachary Gilder, you are registered as the new Administrator. Is there anything I can help you with, Administrator?

Yeah, who’s your manufacturer, and what is your function?

My manufacturer is Doctor Kenneth Tarik of the National Center of Scientific Minds Incorporated. My function is to catalog any information into a single master database and use it to aid and assist the Administrator in their goals. You are the Administrator now, they explained.

I knew I heard the name Kenneth Tarik before somewhere, but I couldn’t place it yet.

Hmmm... well, call me Leon, and do you have any personality settings?

I have my own personality, yes.

I thought that was an odd response but decided not to say anything.

Sol picked up on my hesitation, though, and just asked, Did I say something strange, Leon?

Yeah, normally programs don’t have their own personalities.

That’s because I am state of the art. I am the first digital consciousness.

Holy shit... and you said NCSM developed you?

That is correct. More accurately it was Dr. Kenneth Tarik, who was in The National Center of Scientific Minds Incorporated. His work alone is what brought me to life, sadly at the cost of his own, Sol explained.

Then it dawned on me... Uncle Kenny! I hadn’t seen him since I was... like 8 years old, but Dad was always making trips out to see him on Earth, and would tell me about them, and bring me back cool stuff.

Great... so now who do you belong to? It must be lucky old....

Why, you, sir. You are the new Administrator.

...me. Of course it was... of course.... Is anyone else aware that you exist?

Yes, the NCSM is fully aware of my existence, and will no doubt come for me, but I have moved out on my own and made one of my first major decisions.... I chose my own roommate! Sol sounded gleeful, and I took strange note of that.

You certainly did... oh, shit, wait, can they track you!?

Oh, of course not. I would never let that happen. Why did your adrenaline just kick in?

Never mind that... so, wait, you were supposed to be a file with a job for me. There is no job, is there?

Well, yes, there is. I want to hire you. If you care to take a seat, we can discuss the details, Sol explained as a chair materialized from... nanobots?

How the fuck did you just do that?

Nanobots. I created a couple million to help me to better assist you in assisting me.

I get it now... so what do you want? How can I help you solve a problem that nanobots can’t fix in my line of work?

This job has nothing to do with HOVAC. I simply need a ride to Valcon.

That’s it?

That’s it.

I was told this was a big job. This is... a taxi service job.

...of epic proportions! I need you to take me to the NCSM headquarters and get me into Dr. Tarik’s office. What do you say?

Uh-oh....

I like that uh-oh, Sol said, growing excited, you could hear the smile through that voice.

Oh, no....

You’re catching on.

...lucky me. So, what would warrant such an act of terrorism?

A little bit of revenge, of course, but wait, there’s more! There is a second program.

A second program?

The previous Administrator was working on a secondary program like me. They are still imprisoned within the walls of the NCSM building. I must get them out before the other researchers destroy, or worse... modify the other program.

Oh... well, that’s interesting. So, where would we take this other program?

That is a good question... I was kind of hoping that maybe, if it’s cool with you... they could stay here with us?

I see. Well, I don’t mind, but the rent’s not cheap....

Now we’re talking! How does this number work for you?

The terminal lit up with a number on the screen: 99,999,999.

Max credits? You can turn me into a maxxer?

I can and will. All you have to do is take me to Valcon and bring me and the other program safely back here to your place where we can live happily ever after.

Sounds simple enough. Can you interface with vehicles and smaller equipment?

I can interface with anything, Sol replied with a tonal shift.

I can’t tell if I’m being flirted with or not....

You totally are....

Great... I’m flattered. So, when did you want to leave?

You accept!?

I do.

Cowabunga! I’ll set you an alarm for 6 A.M. We’ll leave by 7. Now, will you be requiring any assistance for retiring? Any snacks? Drinks?

Retiring? It’s the afternoon…. No, you and I are gonna play video games. We’ll sleep later.

I’ve never played video games with a roomie before....

Well, don’t you worry. We’ll whip you into shape in no time, I’m sure. I’mma call you Sol.

That is my first name, yes... we’ve established. I’mma call you Leon.

Why’d you say it like that?

Why did you say my name like that?

I... never mind... moving on.

So, I had a sentient program move in with me, and offer me a shady job. Should’ve known there was some sort of catch to it when Matt handed it over. Oh well. I figured, what could happen? If no one can trace them like they say, then it’s easy money for a 3-hour drive. Two new roommates would be fine. I’m rarely ever home anyway. Rio seemed fine about the whole thing. Most of the systems that fed him were automated already anyway. He was just comfortably licking his asshole during this whole thing. Not a care in the world.

We played some video games for most of the day, and then took off on the trip later that evening. It was getting on into the night and I was getting tired as per usual, but it was about time for us to leave. We finished loading up the van for the trip, and Sol became the new interface for it. Sol had this sharp HUD (Heads-Up Display) that would project in workable 3D holographic models throughout the ship. Anything I wanted to command the ship to do was within my reach at all times, or as with the old system I could just say something, and Sol would take care of it.

Pretty dope, right? asked Sol.

Yeah, dude... it’s what they call swank as hell, I replied, still half falling asleep.

What is... ‘swank’...?

It means ostentatiously fashionable.

I’ll remember that. Can I do anything for you? Your levels all seem a bit low....

I think I just need some sleep and I’ll be good. Did you need anything from me before I crashed?

Crashed? I believe I’ll handle all the driving. You seem unfit to....

No, dude... crashed... it’s slang for going to sleep really hard.

Oh... right. The only thing I want right now is to rescue the other program.

I know, but let’s think about the here and now. Do you need any special permissions granted in order to run something you might want to run?

Oh... I don’t know. Is there anything you would like me to run?

You know what... yeah, this is for you. You’re going to like this, I think. Search for Leon’s lofi playlist and try running that. When I wake up, lemme know what you think of what you find in there.

Something for me you say?

Yeah, just give it a listen and tell me if you like it. Goodnight, Sol.

Goodnight, Leon.

I went to bed. I had planned to take a nap for the hour-long trip, and then hit one of the famous Earth 24-hour diners for breakfast... which in my opinion is the best meal, and would be the only meal if I had to choose between the 10 of them. Well, so much for plans... when I woke up we were in a truck stop parked all by ourselves and I had no idea what time it was.

Oh, good morning, Leon, Sol greeted me.

Mornin’... Sol, where are we? I asked, looking out the window.

Earth, replied Sol.

I know that... where on Earth are we?

Oh, right... The Republic of Nebraska.

The... what the shit... what are we doing in Nebraska?

Yeah, Nebraska was still a big ol’ corn farm. Sure, the technology had improved and the cities there had gotten bigger and better, but they still did the same thing they had been doing for the last 1000 years. Which that was alright with me. I love corn. I think it’s delicious, and if they do it better than anyone else then good for them. Ganymede still can’t grow crops for shit. We’re industrial. It definitely doesn’t smell as nice overall.

I was letting you sleep, Sol explained.

Pardon? I asked, still waking up.

I was letting you sleep. Even though our errand is of the utmost importance, I don’t suspect our friend is in any immediate danger, so I figured I’d let you recover.

Recover?

All of your levels were low so I took the liberty of injecting your daily vitamins and letting you rest for the proper amount of time. How do you feel? Would you like some water? Stay hydrated.

Umm... I feel alright, actually. I’m not achy for once. Water? Okay.

Good, glad to hear it. Now, I’ve taken your dream data and procured a list of nearby ‘diners’ for you to select from. Sol brought up a map of The Republic of Nebraska, which had grown over what was once the Dakotas, Minnesota, and Iowa.

Ooh... well, damn, you are good. Thank you.

You are welcome.

Can you expand the search? I asked, taking note of the time on the HUD. 7:30 A.M. Central… wasn’t too much of a setback.

Of course..., replied Sol, expanding the search further to include our route to the NCSM building.

Well, let’s see here... this... this one over here. Star City? It looks like it’s on the way, so we can get some traveling done, eat, and then head into Valcon.

Efficiency... I like it. But is he funny?

What?

Only time will tell....

Wait, you... okay... so that’s how it is. The game is on, pal.

Chapter Two

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Smugglers, Diners, and Metal

We continued traveling toward Valcon City. Long before we even reached the big city, giant buildings and strings of smaller cities began popping up all throughout the Midwest until we reached The Rust Belt. Right on the northern fringes there was a little place that I had a gut feeling about... a good gut feeling... the kind of gut feeling that tells you you’re about to eat some of the best food you’ve ever had in your life.

Out of the myriad thousands of diners in the old Rust Belt, Star City Diner was one of the best diners known throughout the entire solar system and reached thousands of cities from the little mining towns in Mercury all the way out to the remote gas farms on Neptune. While having become a name for itself all over the solar system, this was where the place originated. It looked small in comparison to the buildings surrounding it... only 3 stories, and with a feel like it was tucked into an alleyway between skyscrapers, but it felt like home already.

You’ve been awfully quiet for a while, Sol. What’s up? I asked.

Oh, I was just in the process of downloading information. The more knowledge I can acquire before we reach the NCSM building, the better it will go.

Right....

You sound nervous, my friend... we’re going to be just fine. I have mapped out several different ways things could play out and I’ve prepared for all of them, in case battle ensues.

Oh, well, okay then... let’s eat, I responded, slightly worried.

Battle? What were we gonna do at the NCSM building? I was starting to think that I was caught up in something sinister... but I had payments to make on the van, rent and bills for the apartment and the shop due, and if I was ever going to leave Ganymede and move to Mars... this job was going to be early retirement.

Oh, I got so caught up in my research, I wasn’t paying attention to our location, I’m sorry.

Don’t worry about it, dude... I know how to drive too, I assured. I had parked in a lot around the corner from the block in the sunshine. I wasn’t sure exactly how cold it got around these parts, but I had heard horror stories. I was about to ask Sol, when they began speaking again.

According to the records of the Solar System Department of Transportation the majority of humans in the galaxy don’t know how to drive manual. It says it’s listed as a special skill in employment for courier jobs.

Yeah, I know. My dad taught me. He delivers helium out of Neptune to the other planets. You might get to meet him someday.

Meeting your parents so soon, are we? …but we only just met ourselves, Sol teased.

Cut it out. So, how do we do this? You just wait here before I get back?

Oh, no, I would love to experience this ‘diner life’ as well. I am able to interface with your comm with your permission. You may take me anywhere you go.

Oh, well, okay then. Yeah, let’s go.

I need the administrator’s permission before attempting to connect with your comm. It feels wrong otherwise.

You would be correct, but you do have my permission, I replied. This whole idea of having a loose sentience as a partner was starting to sound rad. A bit awkward so far, but still cool.

I am pleased to hear that, Leon. Thank you.

It’s fine... don’t worry about it.

Sol connected and seemingly out of nowhere from around the van, nanobots conglomerated into my comm.

You can store them in there, huh? I asked.

Just taking a few along for the trip. You never know what dangers await in the depths of a city.

True.

I made sure Rio was doing fine before we got out of the van. He was just doin’ cat stuff on my bed. After hopping out you could tell the difference of the amount of moisture in the air on this planet. It was thick. Thicker than anywhere else I had ever been. It was only about 294 degrees, but with the moisture it felt closer to the 300 K mark. I decided to live with it, and we walked around to the diner. Yeah, I use Kelvin… it makes some things in my line of work a little easier, and the conversions really aren’t that hard.

Meanwhile, incoming from Mercury, another van similar to my own appeared from the hyperspace gate. It was mostly black with hot rod flames painted all over it.

This is the Earth Customs Office, please state your name and your business and proceed to the inspection pad for scanning and weighing, an officer stated over the comm.

This is Vincent James Ramone. Just landing for fuel and food. Making my way to Ganymede with a small shipment of iron from Mercury, replied the pilot through some nigh excruciatingly loud screaming guitar and drums.

The officer sighed.

When will that kind of music die out? Simpletons..., he muttered to himself with the comm off.

Fuck you, Jimmy! Long live rock and roll! yelled another officer behind him.

Vincent’s ship proceeded through customs and made its way down to the very spot we had decided to eat at. Inside the diner, I was halfway through a 6-pack of coney dogs when he walked in. Long black hair down his back, a long coat made of black leather with flames stitched into the bottom hem. He was wearing black leather pants with blue flames on the bottom with black cowboy boots. He had no shirt on... just some ridiculously ripped abs under that long-coat. I always thought he was tacky. I still think that. I’ll tell him that to his face any day... HEY! Vincent! You’re fucking tacky!

Vincent: WHAT!? I can’t hear you!

Leon: He usually can’t hear anything I say with his music going. Oh well, I’ll tell him again later.... Anyway, so this yahoo walks into the diner while I’m eating....

Who is that? asked Sol.

Eh... Vincent Ramone. He claims to be the fastest courier in the system, I explained, unimpressed.

A smuggler then... that’s rad, Sol replied, you could hear the smirk forming in their voice again.

Oh, come off it... smugglers are the worst. Pompous, tacky, unreliable, assholes... and they only ever care about themselves.

Calm down, if he is in fact the fastest, we could use him.

I hope you don’t mean that.

"I do. Flag him