The
Beginning
“I understand infinity.
It’s time I can’t comprehend….”
Capt.
V. Himmelman
Dorian
system - 2143
Through the darkness the Planet Seeder
spun, through the dust of dead stars, past the gaping chasms of interstellar
space.
“I
see it Sir, a D type star with 3 orbiting bodies, Sir. Approaching the first
world… heavy magneto interference... passing to auxiliary…
sand…bl….hsss…” the Seeder reported.
Himmelman
was not concerned. He'd seen this many times before; especially around large
planets like this. The Seeder would be fine, if not he'd send another in. He’d
been out on the frontier for some time now, he pretty much knew it all. That's
why the Company liked him, even though he used Synthetics.
He could handle anything they threw at
him, even SK Miners didn't bother him. He just played along with them; acted
tough, laughed at their pranks and macho nonsense.
Out on the limits you had much worse to
contend with, it was The Fear that got you, not some drunken miner, and not many
humans survived it. The Synths made the loneliness bearable even if they caused
more problems than they cured.
“…World two… heavy atmosphere…
unclear…” The Seeder burst at Himmelman’s ears. He withdrew from the
receiving area, he needed a break. Leaning back in the chair he had a drink and
waited for the heat to burn in his stomach. It was always cold on these Line
ships. The Company was no different from any other, saved on costs, cut the
luxuries - like a decent life support system! With his next breath he knocked a
thin icicle off his nose.
His hand on the drinking tube and the
other floating in low G forces around him he waited and stared. The thin window
on this angle faced sunward, a sharp ring of silver glinted near the solar
heart, a few bright specks to his right must be the planets the Seeder babbled
on about.
He checked a few other probes for
something to do. Nothing, all of them roving around the barren wilderness days
from anything interesting. Scratching his stubble he reminded himself to shave
before he went back to Central. If the Commander complained he’d get creds
knocked off his pay.
A readout started to burble from nearby.
A faint image projected before his eyes. Numbers and letters spun by. To start
with he was just stunned. What did it mean? What the hell was that dumb probe up
to? He was about to start a diagnostic on the probe when he took a second look.
Hold on, he thought, as he tried to take a step back to get a better
perspective.
They’d waited so long, been through so
many worlds, and now there it was, way out here on the edge of it all. He
stuttered for a bit and then started a communicae; he thought he’d make it
plain and simple.
“We’ve found one Sir - I'm sending the Seeder in,“ he stated in a monotone.
It’d take a while to reach Central,
but they’d be going crazy by the time he reported next. He felt a surge of
pride … and a tinge of fear, he wasn’t even sure why. Maybe the fear of what
would happen next.
The main thing was that they’d found
one, it’d taken so long. Too long, and here he was, the man on the brink of
it; to instigate the creation of a new world. It was too much for him, he
reached for a tab. I hope I’m not wrong, is all he thought as the images in
front of his eyes pulsed and leered. He waited some time for the probe to
acknowledge again.
“... Entry ... atmosphere .. water,
land mass. It’s perfect, Sir…” chirped the Probe.
Typical, thought Himmelman, I have to
get an over enthusiastic probe as well. At least it was in and descending.
Contact would be soon, if it survived, the tests would start, and then…
He waited. He was paid to wait after
all. Too much waiting. It would be easier if he was out there - just like when
he used to fly a Miner ship when he was young. To be in it, to feel the push and
tug of the lug you were shunting around infront of you.
The smell of burning ore, smoke and
heat. Machinery busy, arms and legs moving; extensions of your body made of
steel strung out into space; ripping, rending, kneading the stones, carving up
the ‘oids like gel… Man, that tab was giving him trouble, he shook himself
to clear his head.
The Seeder was down, it was set and
testing. “Processing…..” the Seeder blurted. “I hate this,” he said.
No one to share his excitement. No one to see the sweat dribbling down his chin.
He bit his lip. “What’s it like?” he asked the probe.
“Getting
there Sir…” it hurriedly answered.
He manoeuvred himself into the best
viewing position and sat glued to the sight. The air buzzed in front of him, the
lights dimmed as the holo projector overloaded itself with the image. He could
instantly feel the wash of the sea, the crash of the waves, the cold bite of the
wet air on his skin. If only I was there… The Probe bobbed up and down, its
sensors barely above the surface. It started to rattle off statistics; elements,
molecules, temperatures… he couldn’t hear them. He was lost in the sight.
The view was so real - if only he could reach out… His eyes remained fixed
just as any human does when it sees the horizon after a long time.
Dark grey clouds sunk heavily from the
overcast sky. Mist and moisture clung to the viewer as if to the insides of a
tank. The Hologrid image wobbled now and then as the communication speed
dropped. The sea was emerald green, the waves filled with light, the air thick
with dampness.
“Processed… initialise Seeder
process Sir?” asked the Probe.
“How long before this world is
terraformed?” asked Himmelman in return.
“It will take at least a thousand
years to process a planet of this complexity Sir,” answered the Probe.
“I
will need authorisation before we proceed,” He lied.
He had the authority and the knowledge. He just wanted to share the thrill or maybe to gloat a little. What was the hurry? After all it would be a long wait...