renaissance - part 9

Brain was blinking in a cabinet; it liked to hunker down in a central location. Blinkity. Under the metal shell that contained the fragile Earth, the brain spread out to every corner and controlled all. Wires wouldn’t extend into space, but satellites in ever wider orbits and enmeshing patterns covered the distance between the planets, as far out as Mars and then inward to Mercury where instruments hid in shadows from the blast furnace that was the sun. The Brain had lost a fleet, but Earth wasn’t defenseless.

 Valerie changed back into her pink jumpsuit and fixed her hair up again into a conical swirl of red and yellow. For myself, I preferred the black leather uni and fedora that the last jump had provided. The high top court shoes looked a bit off, but they were comfortable, so I kept them on. Valerie wrinkled her nose at the get up, but I got more better things to think of, so nyeh.

 The gas giants bellowing behind, Star Hopper had a fair distance to go yet, but we were making good time in a roundabout way. It wouldn’t be prudent to take the direct route to Earth. We skittered this way and that, hiding behind whatever came along, and were heading mostly to the opposite side of Sol system, as far from the orbit of Mars we could.

 In the darkness of space, away from asteroids and the planets, the galaxy spun a beautiful web. Valerie noticed as I looked out into the glowing mesh. “We could forget all this. We could find a new home with green grass and flowing rivers. This thing you want to do, it’s messy. It might be suicide.” I didn’t believe a word of it. She was tightening the straps on her wrists as she said it.

 “Next stop, Earth,” I said with gritted teeth. In the corner, the stasis box had shrunk back to an acceptable size. Something inside growled, changed no doubt by the jumps in and out of space and time. We had picked up the package, wholesome, benign, from an outpost on Hi’iaka, one of tiny Haumea’s tinier moons. Elongated engineers there had smuggled the goods from mother Earth decades earlier and it was only one of many options. But the Brain had discovered many of these small hidey holes scattered throughout the system and our time was running out. Luckily for us, finding our ship would be like finding a needle in a haystack for the interstellar cops. I knew there were probes floating around everywhere, but space was pretty big, bigger than the oceans I knew existed somewhere on the Earth buried under megatons of steel mesh and slurping siphons. Star Hopper busily searched the heavens for traces, while I kept my electronic eyes and ears open for anything… untoward.

 Star Hopper did a course correction. Activity in the third quadrant, she transmitted, and I searched the area. There was some debris out there, some with high amounts of trace elements. One could be a spy satellite, but there was no way to be sure without stirring up trouble. We’ll just mosey on this way, she echoed my thoughts. We kept up the game for hours until Myrrha, the mechanical moon of Venus, flew by our ship. She was no threat, having short circuited hundreds of years ago. Myrrha continued to expire in a slow radiation burn that wouldn’t die out until Sol itself erupted. We came that way, by the back door, as a precaution. They’ll be watching every exit.

“Of course.” I searched Star Hopper’s schematics, already knowing the answer but still wanting another trick up our sleeve. According to Earth code, there would be no jumps within planetary boundaries, and those extended to around 10,000 kilometers, give or take. Ships were fitted with governors to control jumps, but not Star Hopper. On an average short jump, we could achieve 50,000 k’s. Anything within the ten thousand from Earth would be picked up by the cruisers, so there was that to work out. “How many quick jumps do you suppose we could make and be outside the atmosphere?” That would be about 100 kilometers.

 Venus was in our rear view mirror. From here? Safely 217.2 hops. The law of averages would recommend against tweaks through the process. Now 201.8.

 I looked over at Valerie and lifted an eye brow. She knew something was up and moved into her seat. “I’m thinking our best chance is to make multiple jumps into Earth orbit.”

 “That’s just crazy,” she frowned. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

 “Uh, we could wind up in the ocean, or even smack dab in the mantel, or fly clear by and have to turn back,” I explained.

 Valerie said, “Or we could fly on in and get zapped by the cheese. I vote jumps. I dig suspenders, jumps are a hoot.”

 Star Hopper didn’t join in the conversation, but made a final calculation and pushed the button. We jumped. We made 195 jumps. Valerie did indeed wear suspenders, and a floppy beach hat, then nothing as we made love for an instant that spanned twenty-five space minutes. By the last jump we were safely harnessed again and clothed in practical terra suits. Space Hopper thankfully intervened in the final random events - we looked pretty normal except for the fleur-de-lis blouses under our flight jackets. I zipped mine to the neck, doubling in covering up a blatant hickey.

 So we’d come in under the wire, safely evading space cops, and the center of the Earth. “Well done, Mighty ship,” I proudly proclaimed, and Valerie smiled, blushing in her seat. “We’ll go in there, to that pirate port,” so named for their lackadaisical standards in admitting earth-bound cruisers. Of course, the folks inside could be a rough bunch. We’d have to be tougher – hard to do in pressed pink shirts.

 No, I messaged ahead, discreetly. Sand Worm has opened the crust for us, a continent over, and close to heavy population. Sand Worm was a terra based ship, built on the same platform as Star Hopper… an old school mate, so to speak, and both rebels at heart. He dug tunnels through the Earth, slowly and deliberately, so it was no big shakes breaking through walls and ceilings.

 OK. “Take us in, Hopper,” I readily agreed. We would need a lot of people, and sub-humans, and even pseudolings to get this thing done. “How’s the package?” I asked, and Valerie turned in her seat. The stasis box had grown and thumped and even mooed once or twice in between transitory jumps.

 “I think it’s settled down. But, who knows?”

 Star Hopper covered the distance in seconds, her large shape spilling a black shadow onto the silvery surface like that of a swimming whale. A clear covering showed a sparkling green ocean below and just ahead we could see a rent in the metal surface. “Ahoy,” I called, and Valerie pointed. The ship slowed and dove into the gap.

 The braking was murder and we were flung forward abruptly as the ship put its foot down, then smashed into ground and skidded hard, wrecking itself on the surface. Thankfully we were in a construction zone and casualties were few. Lights flashed all around the cockpit and sirens that wailed fizzled slowly to a few bleeps, then silence. Star Hopper silently nudged my internal wiring then she flickered out. My mind for a few seconds felt empty, and I stood alone.

 Valerie unbuckled and pulled me out of my stupor. “The package,” she screamed over the noise and together we tore it loose of the bindings and lifted. It was very light, and I took it. “Open hatch,” I yelled, and when nothing happened I cursed the fates and pulled the handle myself, knowing Star Hopper would never work by my side again.

 We jumped to the surface, a lifted mass of hard dirt – the first I’d ever seen. Valerie knelt and dug her fingers into the dislodged mound of soil. She stood and pocketed the dirt and we ran on to the wing ahead. No one came to our aid, but they looked out in horror, and we quickly passed among the first crowd. Inside the building thousands stood or walked. Some were talking, but most were going from here to there. Valerie and I found ourselves in the middle of thousands, I could feel the vibration of their thoughts and their footfall. We stopped there and set the package down, and it opened.

 It tipped over, the box, and the thing crawled out. It scampered on four stumpy legs and tripped over one large foot, smooshing its fluffy head into the walkway. Then it flopped over onto its back, rolling and nipping at the air. The furry floppy little beast lolled, stuck its tongue on its nose and wagged fanatically, all the while squeaking and yipping. The crowds all stopped dead, melting at the sight. A tiny funny animal, a puppy only weeks, maybe a month old. It up and ran in circles chasing its unflagging tail. Thousands saw and their linked minds recorded the sight, one unseen for generations, to every other member of the group called earthlings over the world. Valerie cooed and she picked up the puppy, it was so soft, and she held it over her head. The puppy yipped and swam in the air, sending out major pulses of interminable joy that echoed through the hallways and subterranean passageways for thousands and thousands of miles. It was working, the secret weapon – the package delivered would heal the Earth, and we would tear down the walls, and we would be reborn.

 This was what the world of Earth was missing, the thing the Brain had stolen - our faith, and love, and reason to live. We shuffled unceasingly from task to task, joyless, unknowing. We had progressed from life to a half-life, surely on our way to a walking loveless death. The Brain shriveled as the strings broke, and the wires unraveled.

 But then… behind us the shovelers shoveled, and the cranes began to lift. Star Hopper was ground into the mud and packed under the surface as new walls started to go up. Even as the little dog whimpered in Valerie’s hands, the crowds blinked with the whip at their backs, and they moved off, back to their obligations. Valerie sighed and I kicked the empty box.  I looked up into the marching diodes of the ceiling monitors and winced as multiple images of the Brain spied down on us, bloodied and beaten. The Brain smiled and left me there alone as the millions parted around us in a quest for nothing to nowhere.

the end.

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