Mayweed

Michael Langford

Description

In 2028, Earth is in the midst of worldwide conflict and increasing terrorist activity. Confronting the ever-growing dangers, a brilliant scientist named Katie MacAngus leads a team of physicists: through the use of her faster-than-light spaceships they are to found a human colony on one of the newly-discovered planets within the Milky Way. But as plans for this colony begin to unfold, threats are made from malicious governments and businesses - desperate to gain knowledge of MacAngus's revolutionary technology and exploit its huge military potential. And meanwhile, the ethical issues involved in the colonisation process are unmistakable. In order to tackle these growing concerns, the physicists employ George Higham: a brilliant young philosopher/clergyman who soon becomes deeply involved in the ensuing events - both practically and emotionally.

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Langford Books
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783019915
• Langue: English

Extrait

Copyright © Michael Langford 2014.
First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Langford Books
All rights are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published by without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Ebook conversion by Firsty Group.
1.
Friday, July 21, 2028.
“M ars Two will be landing in three minutes!” Crowding around nine hundred million TV screens, six billion viewers – three quarters of the world’s population – listen to the commentator’s voice and watch the historic event. Man, or more strictly, woman, is about to set foot on Mars for the first time. It is Friday, July 21st, 2028, 2.30 p.m. Greenwich mean-time.
The excitement is made all the greater by the vivid memory of what happened to Mars One four years ago. While the world looked on a computer malfunctioned at precisely this point in the mission, three minutes before touchdown. As a consequence, one of the rockets misfired, sending the Mars One module and its three-person crew crashing onto the surface of the planet. There was talk of sabotage, but the official story remained: ‘Computer malfunction, probably due to excessive cooling on the long journey from Earth’.
The commentator’s voice drops – a response to a keynote of his recent Hollywood training: get the maximum dramatic effect and the maximum propaganda value for the US. He goes on:
“As soon as the dust has settled we shall see a close-up of the surface of Mars from the camera on board. Then Major Joan Robbins – who is in command of the module – will enter the exit chamber and prepare for the first ever walk on Mars. That is, of course, if we don’t count all the robots that have already landed on its sandy surface. Shortly afterwards she will be joined by Captain Jim Hammond, while Major Helen Bagunda will remain in the module to oversee communications with Earth. The two on foot will then proceed to the wreckage of Mars One which the Hubble Three telescope has shown to be only half a mile from the site of this landing. Their first task will be to retrieve the bodies of the three astronauts – assuming that is possible. Then, after this humanitarian exercise, the scientific work will begin.”
At sixty seconds from impact the sound stops. Now there is only the countdown: “Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…” At the command centre located in the Pentagon, Major General William Peters, head of Project Mars 2018, gnaws his fingers. Had the decision been wise to let the pictures go out live? He had suggested a closed TV with just a voice commentary for the public in case anything went wrong a second time, but President Simmons had overruled him. “No,” she had insisted, “The world shall have a live view of a US triumph. It will be much more effective if it is seen for real, and as it actually happens. Besides, if all people hear is talk, they may think we’re trying to cover things up.” When he pointed out that many TV programmes were known to be doctored by computers, especially when there was any political content, she had not been impressed. “The point is,” she said, “most people still believe what they see on TV, regardless of how often we both know it’s fixed.”
“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…” There is now a good view of red sand along with scattered boulders and rocks. At “nine” the picture begins to get obscured by clouds of dust. “Three, two, one, impact!” The TV pictures shudder, then settle, and as the dust clears the commentator’s voice rings out ecstatically: “They’re down!”
The camera on the top section of the spacecraft begins to scan the shallow crater chosen as a landing site. First it shows one of the eight spider-like legs that had spread from the landing module when it was a hundred feet from the surface. The foot lies half buried in red sand, but immediately above it can be seen a shiny portion of one of the module’s legs. It is marked in inches, thus giving a clue to the size of the rocks close by. As the scan moves to the nearby boulders it is evident these vary from very small to very large – a few of them being the size of an elephant.
The commentator’s voice begins again. “Now we can see more clearly why the last part of the landing had to be done manually. The small boulders are about the size of tennis balls and don’t present any problem, but the one to the left of your picture is about the size of a large suitcase. If a module leg got caught on that it could mean trouble. Now the scan is moving to the horizon, which will be the edge of the crater around where the module has landed.”
What the commentator doesn’t say is why the scan won’t show what remains of Mars One. It was decided that the sight of the destroyed craft, possibly with body parts scattered around it, should not be viewed by the public until after the astronauts have visited the site and finished the necessary cleaning up. The landing area has been chosen with this in mind. The wreck, according to the estimates, lies out of sight, a little way beyond the edge of the crater.
The scan picks up the crest, about three hundred yards away, and starts to move round it, anti-clockwise. An irregular, rocky outline can be seen as the occasional large boulder breaks the skyline. Above the crest the sky is black and dotted with stars. Suddenly, after thirty degrees of traverse, the camera freezes. A shining object comes into view, just inside the crest. The zoom lens closes in, and for two seconds the world gazes in astonishment at a silver, saucer-shaped object with circular portholes.
General Peters pulls emergency switches B 14 and B 15 and the world’s TV screens lose the picture. Only Peters and the others in the command centre still have their screens working. The centre is in chaos. “That’s not Mars One, what the bloody hell is it!?” comes the more moderate comment of Peters. Four phones are within reach, all of them ringing. He picks up the red one. President Irene Simmons – who is watching the event on her TV screen in the White House – sounds furious. “What’s going on? Is that you Peters?”
“Yes, Madame President… I thought it better to keep this private until we find out what’s happening.”
“Too late for that, the whole world’s watching. Let them see, otherwise our whole programme of ‘Open Talk’ will be a laughing stock.”
Peters grimaces and switches B 14 on again. Nine hundred million screens come back to life. He does not switch back B 15, as it would make public the astronauts’ voices.
The unwelcome object is no longer in view; Major Robbins has taken off the zoom and gone back to scanning the rest of the horizon. The camera continues its circle, resting for a time on a huge boulder with an unusual, almost rectangular shape. Now, after completing the circle, it comes back to the distant view of the saucer-shaped object.
Major Robbins’ voice comes through the speaker. “Do I have communication zeta?”
Good, thinks Peters, she has the sense to guess I don’t want to discuss this with all the world.
“Yes, you have zeta,” he answers, thus confirming that all the words from the module will be scrambled to those without the key. “What the hell do you make of that thing?”
There is an agonising wait. Mars is right now almost at its greatest distance from the earth, a little short of two hundred and twenty million miles, and with the radio signals travelling at the speed of light Peters’ message will take between nineteen and twenty minutes to reach its destination. And the same goes for Robbins’ reply. It is an infuriating way to carry out a conversation, especially in an emergency like this. Meanwhile the PR man has taken over the public commentary. Whilst he has some general hints about what to say, he knows he’ll have to be creative.
“This is Major Hutton from the command centre. There is a temporary problem with the voice communicator, but there is no need to be alarmed. We are in voice contact with the module, so the problem is only in the public relay. Some of you may have noticed a circular object on the horizon… .” (This is an almost laughable understatement, Hutton realises, as the world press clamours for news of the ‘UFO’.)
“We have not yet had official word,” he continues, “but we have confirmation that it is not the wreck of Mars One. The word here – though I cannot confirm this – is that the circular object is another US module, landed separately in order to take photographs of the manned landing. It looks as though the plan to land two modules, one shortly after the other, has been a very well kept secret. Now for some more technical data about the planet where the US has at last landed a manned station…”
Hutton is sweating. He has not been briefed for this. Only one lie has been told so far – about the public relay – and perhaps, just perhaps, his creative guess about the second module is right. But someone higher up must tell him what to say, and soon. Elsewhere in the centre clusters of people are frantically talking to each other and no-one in authority has time for him. He drones on with details of the Mars climate and atmosphere, and when this topic is exhausted he goes over the reasons for sending the Mars mission at this time, when the planet is so far from Earth.
Here he is able to be frank. The reasons are partly scientific and partly political. The scientific part is the desire to test the ‘cold hibernation’ system that the astronauts have taken turns to experience. Altogether there are twelve astronauts on this expedition: three on Mars and nine on the mother craft that is presently orbiting the planet, and all of them have had turns in the hibernation unit. Knowing exactly how well this unit works is going to be mor