Gretel

By Sean Monaghan

Instead of speeding for the stars, colony ship Gretel reappears in Saturn's orbit.

After promising to never return to space, Karl Nathan finds himself confronted with a chilling choice.

Saving the passengers, including his brother, will take all his courage.

And then some.

A deep space adventure from the author of Athena Setting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Triple V Publishing
• Release date: Dec 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223448624

Sean Monaghan

Award-winning author, Sean Monaghan has published more than one hundred stories in the U.S., the U.K., Australia, and in New Zealand, where he makes his home. A regular contributor to Asimov’s, his story “Crimson Birds of Small Miracles”, set in the art world of Shilinka Switalla, won both the Sir Julius Vogel Award, and the Asimov’s Readers Poll Award, for best short story. He is a past winner of the Jim Baen Memorial Award, and the Amazing Stories Award. Sean writes from a nook in a corner of his 110 year old home, usually listening to eighties music. Award-winning author, Sean Monaghan has published more than one hundred stories in the U.S., the U.K., Australia, and in New Zealand, where he makes his home. A regular contributor to Asimov’s, his story “Crimson Birds of Small Miracles”, set in the art world of Shilinka Switalla, won both the Sir Julius Vogel Award, and the Asimov’s Readers Poll Award, for best short story. He is a past winner of the Jim Baen Memorial Award, and the Amazing Stories Award. Sean writes from a nook in a corner of his 110 year old home, usually listening to eighties music.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

They found Karl in Delgado's Hi-Fi store on Market Road. He was leaning back against the polished oak counter, listening to a spiel from Jason about the new hand-made cones from Malawi when two suits appeared at the door.

Malawi, Karl said, keeping an eye on the pair. I think my phone was made there.

You're thinking of Morocco, Jason said. Samsung's stamping them out with variants every week or two.

Hand made?

Honestly, Karl. Are you interested in these speakers or not?

The pair of suits feigned interest in a Denon amplifier. The woman had short-cropped dyed black hair. The man had a shaggy, surf-bleached mop. Probably just within regulation. The way they moved it looked like the pair of them had shoulder holsters.

He'd seen their kind before. Back in Jacksonville. The kind who wanted to go into space, but had flat feet or were color blind. The kind that ended up with security positions.

Outside, ground traffic hissed through the rain. From somewhere in the distance a siren sounded. Pedestrians on the footpath read on their glasses, or boomed music through headphones.

One of the suits picked up a spiderspeaker, inspecting it. Probably the only thing he recognized in the place. Delgado tended not to stock anything printed or stamped.

Karl? Jason looked at the pair, and back at Karl.

Two thousand? Karl said. That's kind of steep.

Jason shrugged. They'll sell. You're not going to find a richer sound. These are polished from heartwood.

Beach-blonde put his hand to his ear. Obvious. He nodded and turned to Karl.

Tell you what, Karl said. Fifteen hundred.

Jason shook his head. I could talk to Mr Delgado, but I don't think that's going to fly. I mean. you're a good customer and all, but we're trying to make a livelihood here.

Karl Nathan? the blonde suit said. He made no effort to show a badge.

Karl? Jason said.

Fifteen hundred's my best offer. Karl smiled at Jason. I already have some nice speakers. The Olufsens you sold me less than a year ago. I paid over a thousand for those. Two months of Jason's salary, Karl figured.

But the dynamics—

Please, blonde said. You are Karl Nathan, yes?

Karl nodded. And you are?

They need you at control. There's a mission.

Karl smiled and shook his head. Done with all that. Now, you're being very polite, I'm sure, but I'm haggling over some speakers for my apartment here.

I could do eighteen hundred, Jason said. Right off the bat. But that's practically wholesale.

Now you're talking, Karl said. Try sixteen hundred.

The woman stepped forward. Karl figured she might be mid-twenties. To old to be his daughter, and too young to consider as a lover. From her expression—knitted brows, thinned lips—he knew she wouldn't consider him either.

Karl Nathan, she said.

I'm done, he said. Check the records back at mission control. I'm cashed out.

She touched her ear. This concerns your brother.

My brother?

You should come with us now.

The woman turned and headed for the door. Beach-blonde waited for a moment and followed.

Aren't they supposed to identify themselves? Jason said.

I guess not. I'll talk to you later. Karl walked after the pair. When he reached the door, Jason called to him.

Seventeen fifty.

Karl glanced back. Have to get you next time. He stepped out of the street with the agents. They had a car waiting. One of the Lamborghini SUVs with the maglev drivetrain.

Control's moving up, huh? Karl said.

Neither of them responded and he climbed in back.

At the offices the pair of agents swiped Karl through a side foyer. A single security point with a bored guard who looked like he should have gone on social security before Karl had been born. The man barely glanced up as they flashed their ID palms at him.

A direct elevator took the three of them to the eightieth floor.

They brought him to an office door, tapped, pushed it open, but didn't follow him in. They closed the door behind him.

A room with a long ebony table big enough for fifty people to sit around. In the table's center stood a vase of sweet smelling crocuses.

Alone in the room Karl went to the window. They were trying his patience here. Neither of the operatives had given him a clue on the journey from Delgado's.

His brother. Leith had been gone for years.

Did that mean a message had come from Gretel? It wasn't like anyone could do anything anyway. The ships were more than two light years away.

Maybe the pump-jumps had failed.

Below, the array of Boston sprawl spread out into haze. Airliners sped in for Logan International.

Behind him he heard the click of the door opening, but he didn't turn.

Well, a rich, deep female voice said. He recognized it immediately. Julia.

Karl turned.

So they dragged you up here too, she said.

Looks like. It was a decade since they'd worked together. Pulling a dozen human miners from an inverted 30 ton chipborer wedged in a rockfall.

Julia Kentelle. He could hardly believe it.

Julia strode across the room. She had a slight limp now. Karl wasn't sure if it was a permanent thing or a recent injury. She was still slim as a rocket. She wore a bright apricot street top and knee-length jeans.

Her hug was stiff, almost grudging.

What did they tell you? he said as she pulled back.

Not much. My brother.

Leith? I thought he—

He did.

So there's news? He's hurt? Maybe going to be a father?

If there's news that Kim's pregnant, then I'm already an uncle. The ships are more than two light years away already.

Kind of hard to have a conversation, huh?

We never talked much anyway, Karl said with a shrug.

Julia's eyebrows lifted. I can't imagine that with you.

Sarcasm is unbecoming, he told her.

Yeah. It's my specialty, though.

She turned at the sound of the door opening again.

In strode Dale Jones. Looking older and podgier. Karl hadn't seen him since the early days, when they'd both been through LEO training together.

I suppose you're both wondering why you're here, Jones said. You might have heard rumors.

I heard something about my brother, Karl said. That's it. A message?

So why am I here? Julia said.

We need you to go out to Saturn.

Karl frowned. Could you say that again, so as it makes sense?

Jones stepped around the table. His shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor. There's a ship waiting to take you there.

Karl caught Julia's eyes. She raised her brow. That make any more sense to you? she said.

Jones sighed. The ship is prepped, ready to go.

And no one thought to tell us when the preparation began? Julia said.

We didn't know then. The signals only came in yesterday.

Signals? Karl said. What signals?

Someone in trouble, no doubt, but out at Saturn?

Sit. Jones indicated the table and chairs. He took one and waited.

Karl and Julia stayed standing.

Please. We're on a tight time frame. I need to brief you.

Julia gave Karl a nod and they both sat.

First, Karl said before Jones could begin, which ship is prepped?

"It's the Lucky Lady. Her window's been open for a few days. She's due to launch on Friday. We're moving that up to Wednesday. Tomorrow. Three fifteen am."

She was on her way to Saturn?

Actually Neptune. Triton. Launch was due in another four months. Already in test—

Doesn't matter, Karl said.

What matters, Julia said, is the reason.

Yeah. Karl liked how they'd slipped right back into the old mode. Knowing what each other was thinking. A signal?

"Gretel, Jones said. She's sent a distress. He held up his hands to stop them arguing. Yes, he went on, From Saturn. They're not where they're supposed to be."

Karl took a moment to take that in. He looked from Julia back to Jones.

We have a window, Jones said. We need you to go out there.

Out there? It didn't make any sense.

Now, Jones said. Right on a little local pump-jump.

Local pump-jump?

Jones nodded. Yes. They're working on faster little ships, but still a way off. If that was done we might even be able to have a crew out there in under seventy two hours.

That's drawing board stuff. Karl felt numb. He wasn't asking the right questions.

What did they mean Gretel was at Saturn?

They're at proof of concept. Some robot probes hurtling out there on the system now. Not quite ready for crews yet.

So this will take some time, right?

Weeks. Be thankful it's not chemical rockets, you'd be out there six years.

Very thankful. Karl didn't feel that thankful. He felt confused.

Go back, Julia said. "Way back. Start explaining from the beginning. Gretel is at Saturn."

That's right. We don't know how or why. We need you to go and take a look. We got the distress call, but since then they're not talking to us.

Go take a look? Karl said.

Yeah. We'll send a fast probe, but we need eyes out there.

I assume, Julia said, that you're paying us well.

Your contracts are ready to go.

You need to explain more, Karl said. He wasn't worried about the money.

The window is tight, Jones said. We need you in the capsule now.

Lucky Lady waited for them in low Earth orbit. As the Cabra shuttle brought them in to dock, Karl watched from a viewport.

Lucky Lady was over ninety meters long, a long white cylinder. Most of that length was the mini-pump-jump drive with scaffolds at either end. The engine that would have them at Saturn in a matter of weeks.

All along her length lay loops and holds, access points and solar collectors, tool sets and grapples.

Functional, Julia said.

In the extreme. It would be their home for the next few months. He hoped it was as functional inside, but also more comfortable. The agencies didn't spare much expense on home luxuries.

Inside the ship, the volume was even more cramped than he'd expected. Very little space given over to living quarters. A shrouded exercise machine, a galley that consisted of a mixer and a paste heater, a shared wc shower and basin, and two tiny cubicles that barely offered privacy.

More space was given over to stores for their arrival even. Explosives, robotic explorers, food, medical supplies, suits, environment tents, tethers and ropes, sealants, communications, emergency oxygen. Karl didn't know how much difference the tanks of oxygen would make. Gretel's internal volume was over a hundred and fifty cubic kilometers.

Enough there for some kind of rescue huh? Ade Kimball, their delivery pilot, said.

Karl met Julia's eyes. He could see that she was thinking what he was thinking. Nothing like it.

Kimball looked between them. You two got a thing?

Once, Karl said.

Uh-huh. Well I guess they know what they're doing sending you out there.

I'm in it for the money, Julia said.

Likewise.

Sure, Kimball said. This is all on the inventory brief as token. Thousands of people, right?

Exactly, Karl said. Including his brother.

So, you two are information gathering only. Really.

The Lucky Lady used a micro version of the pump-jump drive that should have been thrusting Gretel to the stars. Instead of the interstellar ship's month-long pumps against the speed of light, Lucky Lady's drive would run for an hour before winding down.

Karl didn't like the transitions back to regular relativity.

You're getting fusty in your old age, Julia told him when they officially crossed the orbit of Mars.

Julia put her hand on his forearm. It was hard to avoid contact in the cramped space.

I can't imagine being aboard a colony vessel, Karl said. Doing this month in and month out.

Different shielding, different effect.

Karl knew no amount of shielding would make much difference to the twisting, tugging, sparking, pulling effect. It operated on a subatomic level, but he still felt the resonance through his muscles and bones.

The hab on their Saturn-bound ship, the Lucky Lady, was sixteen meters long. The pump-jump drive was on scaffolds at either end, sticking out eighty meters ahead and astern.

Inside they each had their own cubicles. Tiny, but bigger than the WC-sized rooms the early voyagers had.

The main bridge used a functional top and tail arrangement; the copilot's seat was inverted relative to the pilot's so their heads were side by side with their feet tucked into cavities at the top and bottom. They could both see all the consoles at the same time, even if half of them were upside down. With no real up and down in zero gravity, the pilot/copilot designations were arbitrary.

The trip out to Saturn would take six weeks.

While pump-jumping they just couldn't build up the amount of velocity of the big colony ships. But then, those vessels didn't need that kind of accuracy. They just aimed for the star and started up the drive. Only when they drew close—in another ten or fifteen years—would they make shorter, more accurate jumps.

Hansel and Gretel should have been two light years away. As far as anyone could tell; they were. Signals from both ships still came through loud and clear. Two years out of date, but there was no way either of them should have been in orbit at Saturn. No way either of them could be there.

Already their standard velocity away from Earth was faster than any human-made object. Turning them around and bringing them home would take years.

None of it made any sense to Karl. Nor did it make any sense to anyone on the ground.

That's why we're here, Julia would tell him.

No message from them, Karl said. Nothing but the old transponder. The last-ditch emergency beacon that kept sounding as long as there was power. A morbid addition to a ship with two thousand people on board. Only if every one of them was dead would the transponder be useful.

Karl didn't know how useful it should have been anyway.

Perhaps if the ships got lost, someone in uncountable generations would track it down. Assuming the little transmitter continued to draw power.

But now the bleeps were coming from the vicinity of Saturn. Twenty trillion kilometers from where they should have been. It defied explanation.

Karl had spent endless hours poring over the data. Data that hadn't been released to the public. All those relatives—like himself—who'd farewelled their family members, knowing they would never see them again. Knowing they were heading to start a colony among the stars. Heading for Archeron. Fifteen light years away. A trip that was supposed to take over twenty years, with the leaps from the pump-jump.

Already the ships were a significant chunk of the distance there.

At least that's what their latest messages indicated.

Karl found the delay talking to Earth now almost bearable—a twelve second delay—communications with Hansel and Gretel took twenty-four months.

Forty-eight to get a reply.

Well, with Hansel now.

Besides the transponder messages from Gretel at her current location.

Brooding? Julia said. You need to stop doing that.

"It doesn't make sense. It's like Gretel is in two places at once."

Technically. What doesn't make sense is why she's at Saturn. I get that. You need to stop going over and over it.

Can't help doing it.

Anyway. We've got new pictures from the ground. We should take a look.

Karl followed Julia up to the cockpit. He didn't strap in, just hung behind the pilot's seat as she adjusted. Julia pulled up the pictures on the consoles.

Some of the images had come in from Earth-orbiting telescopes. Some from odd exploration probes around the system. The probes and stations at Jupiter were too far away—Saturn currently lay almost on the far side of the sun.

And most of the probes at Saturn were scarce and old and malfunctioning. The Russians were still miffed about the situation with Poland and Germany and hadn't released any data from their Saturnian satellites.

This is from Van Pont, Julia said, bringing up a batch of thumbnails. The ageing French probe still sending data a decade after the end of its design life.

The images looked like hi-res high-contrast black and whites. Julia flicked through the first few on full-screen.

Gretel. Blurry in some. A big square cylinder. Side-on. In full sun. Some shadow at the margins. Her long bow antennae pointed off to the left. The big pump-jump structure reached far beyond the antennae's tips.

Something at the stern, Karl said.

Didn't notice, Julia said. Did you notice the drive?

She flicked back and zoomed in on the main structure. The image fuzzed up more, the grain increasing.

It that a split? she said, pointing to a dark line.

Split and broken. Karl could see it. Something had damaged the drive.

So how did it get here?

The answer's not in the drive, Julia said.

Where is the answer?

We won't know until we get there.

CHAPTER TWO

Kimball had showed them a diagram. A map of the system. An arcing line trailing out from the Earth. Right to Saturn.

We sent a remote, he said. "A Telev. Fast. It'll be there in less than a week. So by the time you're underway we'll have some good data.

What about on site observatories.

There's nothing there right now.

No, Julia said. That can't be. The Chinese.

Base has been abandoned.

When did that happen? Karl said. The Chinese had been on Titan for a decade. Hard work, he knew that. Tough environment, long reach to be working at.

Three years back, Kimball said. "Got lost in all the news about Hansel and Gretel. Soon before the end of construction."

Shakedown time, Julia said. Surely there are remotes on site anyway. Hasn't—

The base is dark, Kimball said. And believe me, everything else has been thought of. We need people on site.

You're more than just a ferry pilot, right? Karl said. You're spilling all this P.R.

Kimball nodded and smiled. I do a bit of everything.

So this remote? Karl said. The one that's on its way?

Telev 16. Business end's the size of a football, and its little drive is like a family car.

Telev make a good product, Julia said. Mostly out in the Kuiper belt.

This one's been repurposed

So we'll get data on our flight out, Karl said.

All going well.

Huh, Julia said. Thing's haven't gone well so far, have they?

What? Kimball said.

She means, Karl said, "that Gretel should still be out on the way to Archeron."

Well, Kimball said. That's the reason we're here at all.

We're getting data from the Telev, Julia said. She hung in the cockpit, not strapped in, just looking at the consoles. They'd been underway for ten days already.

So? Karl said. What have we got? He'd been asleep—such as the sleep he was getting went—in his cubicle. He blinked, clearing his eyes.

Photos. It's all raw data. Our processors are running it through.

Maybe we should just wait for them to relay it back from Earth. The computers back home would spit out better data faster.

Wait? Julia said. Like you had other plans?

Okay, Karl said. Your point is made. With the rush of them getting out here and the focus on Gretel as an objective, they hadn't had much to do. Some researchers out of JPL and a bunch in Finland had send them some observations to make and experiments to do, but it all felt kind of token.

Julia had taken to making her own experiments. Using Lucky Lady's optics and radar to track