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To the Lighthouse
To the Lighthouse Read online
Michael White
(Copyright © 2015)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead is entirely coincidental.
The author can be contacted via the links below.
Website: www.mikewhiteauthor.co.uk
Email: [email protected]
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006Y7JHCK
By The Same Author
Paul McCartney’s Coat and Other Stories
The Fae Wynrie
Vallum Aelium
The Greatest Virus of Them All
Here Be Dragons
An Unremarkable Man
Liverpool
The Waiting Room
Anyone
A Challenging Game of Crumble
Into the Light
Book One: Lost in Translation
Into the Light
Book Two: The Road of the Sun
Back to The Light
Book One: The Shadow Lords of Old
A Bad Case of Sigbins
Bee’s Knees
To The Lighthouse
(Dedicated to Level Nine)
The “Eridani-E Edict”
“With the limited resources remaining to the peoples of planet Earth in the year 2192 and following the successful identification of planets far away beyond our solar system following the launch of thousands of deep space probes, mankind’s initial instinct for self-preservation awaited only the advancement of science to enable the human race to reach the stars. Yet it is not always the case that new tech or new science provides such an answer. Cryogenic freezing was now highly advanced, but star drives were still just a myth. Perhaps, considered the free peoples of planet Earth, they would always be so.
So the thought that a simpler solution was available was much welcomed. Quite simply, ammonia ice rings could be gathered by any craft as it started its journey to the stars, and the snowball of ice would be frozen and netted with it, providing sufficient fuel for the journey. The tech was poor and outdated; the solution breath-taking. Man could colonise the stars, and so plans were set in place, and the Eridani Edict began.
The ship bound for Eridani-E, named Austin 3 was moved into Earth’s orbit and the nine rings of two hundred thousand cryogenically frozen human passengers were towed into place. Once done the ship fired its fusion drives and moved out of Earth’s orbit, beginning its journey.
Once free of the solar system however the gathering of the ammonia ice began, and soon the net towed by the ship was filled with frozen fuel. The remaining crew of technicians and engineers entered cryogenic sleep, the ship now completely run on automatic systems.
Slowly but surely the sleeping crew of the Austin 3 moved into space and towards Eridani-E, the colonists and crew sleeping an endless sleep, dreaming an endless dream…”
“Kim Kimberley. You are charged with the protection of the colonists and crew of the Austin 3. You will be cryogenically frozen once the gathering of the frozen ammonia has ended. As you are aware your AI wristband has a hook up to the main ship systems and in the case of any emergency you will be woken from your sleep. You will however only be woken if the ship encounters serious peril. The AI freezer mechs will not recognise your presence. “Nightingales” the techs have nicknamed them, because I assume they protect the frozen colonists as if they were their own brood. They will attempt to stop you leaving your freezer cell. We cannot program them otherwise. Hence your wristband is fitted with a small EMP pulse deflector. Employ it if they attempt to stop you.
Your mission if you are called upon is simple. Find the cause of the problem and fix it. Nothing can interfere with the safe passage of the Austin 3. Now go from here and prepare to enter your freezer cell. All due remuneration will be provided at your destination, and it is substantial. Once the new world is colonised you will live like a king. Briefing over. Good Luck.”
Nobody ever tells you about the bad side of cryogenic freezing. Of course I had never actually experienced it before even though I had been briefed on it hundreds of times, so it was a surprise to me too. I suppose if you are stupid enough to allow yourself to be frozen solid so that to all intent and purpose you are technically just one step away from actually being dead it is never going to be terribly enjoyable when you do wake up. Time doesn’t matter of course. Whether it is one hundred, two hundred or even a thousand years you are out for. You’re asleep. Frozen. Then you thaw.
And oh my do you feel cold.
That wasn’t the only down side though. There was a red light above my head that should have been green. I was lying in my freezer cell. The company that ran this expedition - my employers if you will - are the Eridani E Holding Company and they called these freezer cells, one per frozen crew member or colonist. “Sleep containers” they were designated as. Everyone else of course never saw beyond the fact that they looked like a coffin, for effectively that was what they were. They were long and slender steel boxes into which were plugged several life support hoses to keep the temperature as low as it needed to be and so on. I don’t know the science. You may find this surprising, but in my defence all I would say is that is why we have “specialists”. My speciality was in keeping everything running on the Austin 3 as it should be, and something was wrong. The red light was telling me that.
I glanced at the display on the read out above my head. Eighty years I had been asleep. Dreamless mostly, I am glad to say, but it was early. I should not have been woken for at least another twenty years yet. Something was wrong.
“Are you awake, Kim?” chimed a voice from my wristband computer.
“Yes.” I groaned, my body slowly waking, my stomach churning and every bone in my body seeming to scream of the cold.
“Well don’t be so naughty. Go back to sleep.” said the voice from my wristband, and I groaned again.
I will probably have to explain about the wrist strap computer. Every security operative, Eridani E bound or not, has one. It’s a hugely advanced piece of kit for sure, but the Eridan E Holding Company initialize it by uploading an AI copy of a suitable donor who at the point of their death has volunteered to have their personality or thought waves or whatever the hell you call it into a computer. That’s then dumped into the wristband to act as a friendlier interface with the ship computer systems and so on. The company figured that a more human interface enables the user of the wristband to work more efficiently with the required data systems. You never got a choice of who they were going to upload of course, and so it was therefore a complete mystery to me as to why on Earth they had uploaded my auntie Myrtle onto mine.
“The red light is on auntie.” I said to the AI in the wristband and there was a brief pause and then a very loud tut.
“Bugger it. Well we had better go and see exactly what the problem is then shouldn’t we? Such a nuisance. I was just cross indexing my knitting patterns into reverse geographical order just for the sheer hell of it.”
“You swore, auntie Myrtle.” I groaned.
“Well eighty years of talking to yourself will do that Kim, I think you'll find.” said the AI and I grinned in the low red light.
“Watch out for nightingales.” she said and the lid of the coffin - sorry, sleeper container, slowly slid open and I breathed my first breath of real air in eighty or so years. It smelt vaguely of ammonia and static. Apart from that nothing and the room I found myself in was cold and silent.
The waking process had already flooded my system with caffeine's and protein to get me moving but I still felt sick and dizzy as I hauled myself out of the long metal canister and slid down to the ground. I
stood gathering my wits as I stood panting in the cool air.
“I suggest you get a move on, my boy.” chided Aunt Myrtle. “Nightingales are headed to this cell from at least six different directions as we speak.”
“Right.” I gasped, staggering towards the cell door and pressing the pad to open the door it made a loud clicking noise and did nothing.
“Wait.” said the AI. There was a pause and the door irised open revealing an extremely long steel corridor that seemed to run for miles in a straight line. Along it were intersecting corridors at regular intervals. It was of course completely deserted.
I moved forward slowly, getting used to the sensation of walking again. Gravity was maintained here due to the spinning of the cryogenic disc and as I looked out into the dark of space through a tri glass viewing window I was walking past I saw the large ball of fuel was quite depleted, the ammonia snow being farmed by robot miners and funneled into the feed tubes for the fusion drives.
“Just enough to get us to Eridani E.” I said, thinking out loud.
“Well it will be if we can get back under way.” said Auntie from my wristband. “The only problem is the engines appear to have stopped.”
“Stopped?” I shouted out loud. “How can they stop? The systems are automatic.” Auntie was decidedly silent for a change. “They shouldn’t stop for another twenty years.”
“They went offline twenty-three hours, eighteen minutes and nine seconds ago.” said the AI. “Hence your awakening.”
“Communicate with the main computer Auntie.” I said. “Request an update.”
“I have tried.” she said. “The main computer however seems to be offline.”
“That’s impossible!” I exclaimed. “Right. We need to get to the bridge to see what the hell is going on.”
“Nightingale twenty yards emerging corridor in front on the left.” said Auntie causally, and as she did so a large round black sphere shot around the corner and seeing me standing in the corridor drew within ten feet and came to a stop.
The nightingale was about six feet in diameter and completely black and featureless. It floated about five feet from the ground, it’s anti-grav drive remarkably silent, and as it floated in front of me a long metal arm emerged from the sphere holding what appeared to be a small hypodermic syringe.
“Exception Error.” said a completely emotionless voice from the sphere. “You are meant to be asleep. I can help you with that.”
“I am Kim Kimberley.” I said, holding up my hand to signal it to stop, which it did do momentarily. “I am in charge of security for the Austin 3 and need you to allow me to remain awake.”
The nightingale paused slightly almost as if it was searching for me in its databanks.
“Yes.” it said finally, “Kim Kimberley. Twenty-seven years old. 0.15 milliliters should be a sufficient dosage.”
I raised a hand to protest but the nightingale was so fast I hardly noticed it grab my arm and inject me. I felt the ground swim before me, thought I heard Auntie tut and then the robot as dragging me back to my cell and then everything faded to black.
***
“Are you awake, Kim?” chimed a voice from my wristband computer. I groaned and felt vaguely queasy. Above my head a red light was flashing. I felt cold again but was relieved to find by examining the readout in the freezer coffin above my head that only two hours had passed since my last escape attempt.
“Shall we try again, auntie?” I groaned.
“Why not?” she said, almost cheerfully. “Do you want me to zap the nightingales this time?”
“Yes please.” I said as the coffin slowly opened. “It would be really, really good if you didn’t wait for me to ask. Just do it.”
“Oh good.” said the AI at my wrist. “I have so been waiting to try out the EMP pulse to zap them with.”
“Good good.” I muttered as I lowered myself to the floor, registering what I had failed to notice last time. I could not feel the vibration from the fusion drives underfoot. The engines were definitely not running.
“Will make a nice change from knitting patterns and the Times crossword.” said Auntie, and the door to the cell opened again and we were off.
We did not get far before the first nightingale appeared, hovering along the corridor in the distance and then suddenly heading towards me as if it was a cannonball fired from a cannon. It stopped a short way away as if it was scanning me.
“You again.” it said in a tetchy manner. It was impossible to tell one nightingale from another of course. They all looked the same, but I concluded that they probably shared the same network so the response would be the same as if it had been any of them. “I think you need a stronger dose this time.”
There was a small click from my wristband and the nightingale suddenly dropped to the ground and rolled lifeless away from me on the floor of the metallic corridor.
“That was the EMP pulse?” I asked.
“Yes.” said Auntie.
“I see.” I said within a slight air of disappointment. “I was expecting a beam of some sort. Lightning maybe.” I kicked the nightingale with my foot. Not far though - it was very heavy, but it rolled a short way. It was completely lifeless. “Sparks or something.”
“Well it worked.” said the AI. “Though it takes fifteen seconds for the pulse to recharge.”
“That’s quite a long time.” I muttered as I saw another nightingale cross into the corridor quite a way in the distance from one of the intersecting corridors. As I watched it spin and head quickly in my direction another one appeared right behind me.
“How many nightingales are there in the passenger cryogenic discs, auntie?” I asked as the second nightingale dropped to the floor as the EMP pulse was triggered yet again.
“Original ship schematics say about five thousand.” said Auntie. “Keep this one talking.” she said nonchalantly as the next nightingale shot towards me, pausing slightly as it approached as if examining the two deactivated nightingales rolling about the floor.
“Assaulting ship crew or AI is punishable only by extinction of threatening life form.” said the nightingale as a small panel slid open in the centre of the sphere, revealing a small nozzle of what certainly looked like a small laser turret.
“Can I ask just one question?” I said, playing for time.
“No.” said the robot, a bright red laser beam shooting suddenly over where my head had been but milliseconds before. There was then the same click and the nightingale fell to the floor lifeless.
“Looks like they are tired of putting you back to bed.” said Auntie.
“Yes. I cannot possibly fight all my way to the main ship quarters. How far is it from here to the bridge?”
“Again, according to the schematics, about twenty miles.”
“Twenty miles?” I said incredulously. “And five thousand nightingales in the way all armed with laser turrets?”
“Four thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven now to be precise.” sniffed auntie. “If the schematics are correct of course.”
‘Too many.” I said, almost spinning on the spot to see if any more nightingales were incoming. As of yet they were not. “We only need to be faced with three of them at a time and we are in big trouble. Fifteen seconds is a long, long time when you are being shot at.”
“I can try and broaden the range of the pulse” said Auntie speculatively.
“Sounds good.” I said, starting to run along the corridor now, pausing at every intersection to look in both directions before crossing the open space. There were no signs of activity yet.
“Only that would increase the time it would need to recharge.”
“How long?” I panted, setting off on a sprint once again.
“It’s all relative.” said the AI, “A 50% increase in radius would increase the recharging rate by the same factor.”
“22.5 seconds.” I said. “That’s too long. Any other thoughts? Perhaps you could hack into the nightingale communications network.”
<
br /> “Too heavily protected.” sniffed Auntie. “I have already tried.”
“Just a thought.” I said, sprinting off further along the corridor.
“Well I do have limits.” she said.
I paused by a view screen that showed the snowball of ice that was frozen ammonia that surrounded the ship. It looked like a field of snow, and far away in the distance I could just see the blue flashing light of a comms tower, presumably the main deck of the ship and beyond that the bridge.
“Auntie.” I said, staring off into the ice field and then the darkness of space beyond it, “How do they harvest the ice to load it into the fusion drives?”
“Accessing.” said auntie, presumably checking.
“Snow-dozers.” she said. “A practical solution to a relatively high level problem. No fuel equals no drives, equals no movement. There are robot enabled snow-dozers on the surface of the ice ball that plough it into the fusion hoppers, where under pressure it is melted and so then used as fuel.
“These snow-dozers are AI run?”
“They are now that all of the crew are frozen. Prior to that some of the crew were working on the ploughs, yes.”
“They have a manual over-ride?”
“They must do if the crew used to drive them. How come you don’t know all of this?”
“I am security auntie.” I said, sprinting to the next intersection, “I don’t know the finer details of ammonia ice mining!”
“No need to shout.” she said.
“So are these ploughs kept in any particular area?”
“Several.” she said as a nightingale appeared in the corridor ahead, but this time as it approached it began firing at me from quite some distance.
“Though there are several maintenance stations along the passenger discs in case of malfunction, or perhaps a need to shelter from solar or meteor storms.”