“As long as the second farm donut is ready to go into full production, yes.” Butterworth took a sip of his whiskey and stared at it thoughtfully. “I’m going to have to start rationing this more stringently. The next barrel is sixteen light-years away. If any still exist at all.” He shook off the thought and looked at me.
I ignored the comment about the Jameson. “We’re on schedule, Colonel. Bert and Ernie are anxious to get going back to Earth for another load.” And in thirty-five years or so, another twenty thousand people would have to find a place to settle on either Vulcan or Romulus. Would I still be here? Or would I have handed it off to one of my clones by then?
Stéphane said, “Security is ready. The fence will be finished within forty-eight hours. Your observation drones are helping greatly.”
I nodded to him. “It’s kind of ad hoc, right now. Eventually I’ll want to put together a really good, automated system.” I turned back to the colonel. “Farms are ready, and I’m building up a surplus in anticipation of need.”
“And we have adequate shelter, although many will live in barracks for another month or two.” Colonel Butterworth looked at each of us in turn. “I think we’re ready. Please pass the word to the Exodus pilots.”
I grinned. Finally. Opening Day.
*
I accepted a ping from Bert, and he popped into my VR. I saw that he was no longer wearing the Battlestar Galactica uniform. Well, the joke had been wearing a bit thin.
“Hey, Howard. I just got your email. Butterworth has agreed to offload the balance of the colonists?”
I noted Bert’s obvious excitement. I guess it was a question of pride; Bert and Ernie wanted to be on the road, hauling colonists. Orbiting Vulcan, acting as floating warehouses, just didn’t cut it.
Bert sat and accepted a coffee from Jeeves. “It looks like Exodus-3 will be here mid-next-year.”
“Yep. Riker told Sam to take it a bit slow on the flight, to give us more lead time. We agreed to get the Spits off-Earth within six months of the first two ships. Nothing was said about arrival times.”
“Ah, lawyering. Makes the universe go ‘round.”
I smiled, then grew serious. “We’ve needed the extra time. Milo wasn’t kidding about Vulcan’s ecosystem. They’ve had to go back and reinforce the fence, then add electrical wiring to dissuade the brontos from chewing on it. And to keep out the raptors, and the giant snake-things, and those burrowing armadillo things…” I shook my head. “We’re making progress, but it’s like wading through molasses sometimes.”
“Well, not really my problem.” Bert took a sip of coffee. “Shuttles start moving people down this afternoon. Just make sure you have somewhere to put them. I’m about ready to just hover over the tarmac and turn the shuttle sideways to dump ‘em out.” He grinned to show he wasn’t serious. Or at least not completely so.
“Okay, Bert, I’ll let the colonel know.”
He finished his coffee, disappeared the cup, and popped out with a wave.
6. Contacting Bill
Mulder
April 2171
Poseidon
Subspace Communications Universal Transceiver. Kind of forced, but we had a tradition, going back to FAITH, of bad acronyms. The radio transmission from Bill contained a complete set of plans and operating instructions.
So, I built the SCUT from Bill’s transmitted plans, and now I was ready for the magic moment.
I just hoped it wouldn’t blow up.
I flipped the switch, and the console immediately started scrolling information.
Sol
Epsilon Eridani
Alpha Centauri
Omicron2 Eridani
I followed the menu prompts and registered myself on the network, then selected Epsilon Eridani and pressed connect. The transmitting icon came on, and I began to speak. “Hi, Bill, this is Mulder out at Eta Cassiopeiae. I’ve found—”
Bill popped into my VR. “Hi, Mulder. How’s tricks?”
“Holy—” I was speechless. It was just under twenty light-years from here to Epsilon Eridani, yet this was Bill, sitting across from me in my VR.
Bill laughed. “It never gets old. Welcome to BobNet. Instantaneous communications across interstellar space.” He waggled his eyebrows at me in our standard Groucho Marx impersonation and took a sip of his coffee.
I nodded slowly in appreciation. “And is that your standard entrance?”
“Oh, hell, yes. And I’m keeping track. Notches on the holster and all.” We both laughed, and I materialized a coffee of my own. This was huge. Real-time communications changed everything. No more decades-long turnaround times for communications.
“So, anything interesting here?” Bill waved his coffee in a vague out there gesture.
“I think so. We have a colonization target. It’s not ideal, but I don’t know if you’re in a position to be picky. Or if we even need colonization targets. Did Riker find anything?” I pushed a file towards him. Bill went into frame-jack for a moment while he absorbed the contents. When his avatar unfroze, he looked pleased.
“Not bad. I see your point, though. Colonists would have to establish a space presence immediately. Still, to answer the question: No, we’re not in a position to be picky right now. And yes, Riker found something. Check out his blog on BobNet.”
We spent several more seconds getting caught up, and I promised to read all the blogs. Bill gave me a wave and popped out.
Well, that was interesting. It appeared I should put some effort into preparing this system. The standard plan was to have a supply of refined metals available in orbit when the colonists arrived. And I’d have to write a bestiary, with detailed information. Some of the creatures in-planet were truly impressive by any definition. The kraken, especially, needed an entire chapter of its own.
Time to buckle down and get serious.
7. Back to Work
Riker
July 2171
Sol
I looked at my list of TODOs for the day and sighed. I was a little surprised at how much I was missing my family. Julia and Clan Bob were all aboard Exodus-3, in stasis, heading for Omicron2 Eridani. There would be no contact until they arrived at their destination and were revived. I tried to remind myself that it was an eye-blink at my life scale, but any way I looked at it, I would still have to experience every day of those seventeen years. Twenty-four-hour days, since I didn’t sleep, experienced in millisecond intervals.
This train of thought seemed destined to send me into a deep funk. With an effort of will, I brought myself to task.
The first item, as always, was a status check on colony ship construction. I checked the summary window rather than doing a personal inspection. Unless some significant step was due, I didn’t need to micro-manage.
At that moment, Charles popped into my VR. “Hey, Riker.” One of the first clones I’d made here in the solar system, Charles was still hanging around and helping out. He knew the politics of Earth almost as well as I, and the location of everything in the rest of the system far better. If he ever decided to leave, it would be crippling.
“Charles. What’s up?”
“I wanted to update you on the sabotage.”