Call of the Stars (1999)
This science-fiction story was written as my final project for Writer’s Craft. It’s the one I like the least of all of them. Although there are some interesting themes and ideas (I researched stuff about FTL travel (and the lack thereof), and the way I think humanity will eventually spread to other solar systems), but I just don’t think it’s executed as well as it could be. Oh well, it’s still an interesting exercise.
Call of the Stars
Copyright © 1999
Lavarre closed his eyes, rubbed his temple briefly. Eighty years of work. It was a long time, but a small price to pay indeed for the survival of humanity. Expansion was the only way to continue evolving, to continue to be truly alive! Jennesen knew that when he led the first group of colonists, liberating humanity from the single planet to which they had been confined. This was the next, final step. The stars, they were the final frontier! Humans will spread through them like wildfire. They will bring the burning vitality that is life to the cosmos!
The chime of his intercom startled him. “There’s a Sec here to see you, sir,” his secretary intoned.
What’s corporate security doing here now? Lavarre wondered. He did not fear discovery – if they tried stopping him, they would only end up destroying the station. That was something TransBelt certainly would not want. “Send him in,” Lavarre ordered. A Sec could force his way in if Lavarre delayed. That would cause stress among his staff on a day that should be full of hope and good cheer.
The door slid open to reveal a middle-aged, well-muscled man with a hard edge to his face, who looked vaguely familiar. A multigun lay in its holster on his hip. Clad in the standard black uniform of the TransBelt security, asteroid logo on his breast, he looked to be the epitome of loyalty and devotion to the Company.
As soon as the door slid shut behind him, the Sec snapped to a salute, “Captain!” he stated, almost respectfully.
Lavarre shook his head. “Not any more. Krantz, is it? Now I remember where I know you from. You were among the crew of the Dark Mule, were you not?”
“I proudly served under you, sir. Until you tried hijacking the ship.”
“Oh yes. Promote you for stopping me, did they?” he asked cheerfully.
“Actually, yes. Though promotion is not what I’d call it. Tracking your Star League’s movements has been most exhausting. And challenging. A credit to you, sir.”
“The Star League is no more mine than it is any member’s. It is an idea, a philosophy, that existed before I was born and will exist after my death. It is an extension of humanity’s survival instinct. One that some people, like your precious TransBelt suits, in their ‘intelligence’ have circumvented. Our work against such short-sighted people, to ensure the continued survival of the human race, is a little more than merely ‘exhausting’ and ‘challenging,’” Lavarre replied, bemused. “The Star League’s goals are within reach. Hopefully, whether I personally succeed or fail, others will see the truth. Expansion is our only choice in survival. Even the vast resources of the solar system are not enough to support us for ever. Astronomically speaking, we are insignificant. A mere shrub in a giant planet, that otherwise is empty of life. We must send seeds to the wind, to take root and spread our vitality, our life force, throughout the Universe. The next step towards this great new age is at hand, and you have a chance to witness it!” Lavarre finished, with an almost fanatic fervour.
“Though you may want to do it from your shuttle,” Lavarre added.
“Save me your preachings, Lavarre. Your ideals intrigue me, but they are impossible.”
“Ah, not quite. The stars are at hand! If you’ll excuse me for a moment…” The Administrator flipped on his intercom. His rich baritone voice projected through the entire station. “To all personnel aboard TransBelt Station MS085, this is your Administrator Lavarre speaking. I am a member of the Star League. Today, we will take a momentous first step – we will travel to the stars, in the best space ship ever constructed by man – this very station! For those on board that are not affiliated with the Star League, and had no knowledge of this, I apologize. You have a choice ahead of you – you may stay with us, and be one of the first to explore this new frontier. You are also free to leave. Decide quickly; spin-down will commence in 3 minutes. When it completes, it will be unsafe to leave. I remind everyone to immediately leave the vicinity of this station, due to the high radiation levels. The best of luck to all. Lavarre out.”
Lavarre flipped off his intercom, glanced up at Krantz. “See? It is possible! I will take this rock to Alpha Centauri; there we will thrive, and our example will commence a mass exodus from this system until humanity owns the very Universe!”
Krantz shook his head, a frown on his face. “So it is true. Ships were not enough for you. When I first heard that you planned on stealing a multi trillion dollar mining station ,I laughed and nearly fired my informant for such a ridiculous proposal. Nevertheless, you have always been one to try the unlikely in times of desperation.
“It is therefore my unfortunate duty to call upon my powers as TransBelt security to place you, Jules Lavarre, Administrator, under arrest and strip you of your office. Charges against you are treason against the Company, attempted theft of company property, disrupting mining operations, spreading dissent…”
“Krantz! I had thought better of you! Are you so indoctrinated in the mentality of the Company that you cannot see their near-sightedness? Have you any concept of how long I worked to try and get them to support such a venture? I begged, yes begged, them to sell me some ships, some equipment, anything! And they refused.”
“So you planned on stealing it?” the officer asked, pulling out a pair of handcuffs as he approached the desk. Lavarre meekly held out his hands.
“Stealing? Hardly. TransBelt will have no difficulty seizing my account, not to mention the accounts of the thousands of other people on this station. That combined wealth will pay for this station ten times over! TransBelt has hundreds of others like it; the loss of one will not affect their productivity and quotas,” Lavarre sneered.
“You have no concept of just how rich TransBelt is; the wealth granted by a space mining monopoly is beyond human imagining. Yet they refuse to use even a tiny, minuscule fraction of this enormous resource base for the very survival of humanity.”
“You condemn yourself with every word, Lavarre,” the Sec said, leading the handcuffed administrator to the door.
“Does the legality of this bother you? What are the Company’s laws but arbitrary decisions, created for their own good? Jennesen saw the greater need of survival, when Earth governments decreed space to be illegal, a waste of resources needed to feed and clothe the hungry populations. When Jennesen led the first pioneers into space, he was condemned. Now he is a hero – look at the age of wonder and riches he has led us to!”
“So you wish to be a hero?” Krantz demanded.
Lavarre shook his head. “No. Like Jennesen, I see only the need for life. This sun will die, in a long time, true, but eventually it will. Humanity must take to other stars, learn to live and thrive in alien environments, to truly live!”
Krantz ignored the former Administrator, pushing the button to open the door.
Nothing happened, even after a second try. Lavarre merely smiled calmly. “You know, they’ll never let you take me off this station.”
“We’ll see about that,” the Sec muttered, frustration creeping into his features. He raised his multigun and fired it at the door, vaporizing the metal instantly. Thick, dark fumes quickly slithered away into the station’s ventilation system, leaving nothing but air where the metal door once stood.
“You could have asked me to open that for you,” Lavarre said, bemused. Krantz said nothing, merely pushed the aging man through the doorway and into the corridor beyond.
A soft rumble slowly permeated the ship, making the very floor vibrate. Krantz had time for one inquisitive glance before the rumble became a roar and the floor lurched out from under him. Instantly, half a dozen blue-uniformed Star League members filled the hall, having disarmed and detained the Sec and freed Lavarre.
“So now I am the captive. Should I call you Captain?’ Krantz asked, his emotions a mix of frustration, anger, and acceptance. Lavarre merely straightened his shirt. “You may call me whatever you wish. Crystal,” he said to a Star League woman, “escort this man to his ship and make sure he leaves.”
“You know you can’t get away with this. The minute you fire your manoeuvring thrusters, half a dozen TransBelt cruisers will blast them to bits,” Krantz shot.
Lavarre froze, his face going pale, eyes glazing over. The other Star League officers glanced at each other, horror in their eyes. “There are ships out there? Near the station?” Lavarre whispered.
“Yes!” Krantz said, confidence building. “Release me, before you dig yourself any deeper in this mess.”
Lavarre’s features grew grim as he banished memories from the forefront of his mind. “Krantz, have you ever seen a guidance laser miss?” he asked softly. He turned to Crystal. “Explain to him. Get him to move those ships,” he said. “After that, I don’t care.”
Lavarre nearly ran down the hallway, trying in vain to hold memories at bay. Ducking around a corner, he leaned back against a wall and let the images was over him.
* * *
“Ensign Lavarre!” the Captain commanded. “Take us out of dock!”
“Aye, sir,” Lavarre answered. Looking neat and disciplined in his new black uniform, full of pride at having earned it, Lavarre was beaming confidence, cloaked in the invincibility of youth. Lavarre glanced across the bridge at the communications officer, a young woman he knew well. Lindsay was a very… energetic girl. She was looking at him, so he winked.
“Lavarre, please don’t screw up,” the Captain admonished.
“Aye sir,” he replied, a mischievous gleam in his eye. This was the first time he had ever been given the helm of a ship. The Jimmy Cricket was no sleek luxury ship; it was an ore hauler carrying miners instead of ore to the belt. Nevertheless, he was the pilot! Touching the controls, the ship slipped smoothly free of its moorings. This berth lay near the middle of an array of similar docks, arranged in a grid pattern. Dozens of ships a day docked here; today, however, was slow. There were only three other freighters here. While standard procedure would have the ship back out slowly, get a clear distance from the station, and then accelerate towards the moon, Lavarre saw no need to waste that much fuel.
Glancing over docking reports and the ship’s own sensors, he saw the way was clear. He threw once more smile at Lindsay. Tapping some buttons, the ship began to spin slowly down and right, diagonally across the docking grid.
“Lavarre!” The Captain warned, gripping his seat.
The newly promoted ensign paid no heed. The ship sped up its spin, and its descent; it was a giant bowling ball and the dock struts were the pins – the task was to miss them all. A sheen of sweat beaded on Lavarre’s forehead as he slipped into intense concentration; the ship would clear all the struts but on the current trajectory, the nose would plough through certain sections of the space station’s observatory. That would surely get him stuck on some mining station, never to pilot a ship again.
Tapping some rockets, Lavarre added another axis of spin to the ship. It was dizzying to keep track of everything. No, that was too much, Lavarre thought, tapping the reverse rockets. Damn, that threw off the other axis. Keeping cool, his hands flew over the controls, adjusting, adjusting. Not a person on the bridge was breathing; they all stared at this boy drive himself frantic.
Almost clear! Lavarre thought; then collision klaxons pierced the bridge with their high screams. Lavarre ignored them, his hands furiously working to clear the front of the ship. There! he thought, sighing, raising his hands in victory, leaning back in his chair.
“See? No problem!” he said smugly, yelling over the klaxons.
The unmistakable screech of metal on metal resounded through the ship. Lavarre glanced incredulously at his controls. “What?” His hands flew back over buttons, and the ship came clear, on course for the moon.
“Lavarre! What a stupid stunt!” the Captain yelled, his round, pudgy face turning red with anger. “It defies my mind why you risked it. You are suspended from duty and confined to your quarters until damages can be assessed. Dismissed!”
Lavarre glanced at Lindsay before slowly walking off the bridge, going over everything. The instruments had shown that he would clear it! Despair washed over him; the Captain was right, that was incredibly stupid. His first assignment, too! God, what would happen to poor Jules Lavarre now?
Alone with his thoughts in his quarters, Lavarre could not think. His mind was blank. He lay strapped in on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, waiting for judgement to fall on him. The thing he regretted most was that he would probably not see Lindsay again; they had been close for over a year now. He loved her very much, but after this stupidity of his…
Unconsciously, he monitored the events of the ship, as it approached the moon, lined up an escape trajectory to the belt, and waited for the guidance lasers to give it its push. The lasers were a boon to space travel; they vaporized propellant using energy not on the ship, allowing it to attain great speeds with little fuel on board.
The ship waited; the soft acceleration warning chimed in the air. Abruptly, the massive hauler lurched. Lavarre felt a slight pull of gravity, indicating the ship had begun to spin. This was not caused by lasers; something had hit the ship. Lavarre unstrapped himself. The only was a collision could occur without the klaxons going off is if some sensors were broken; perhaps his stunt had damaged radar at the nose.
“This is my fault,” Lavarre muttered, climbing to his feet. “I’d better see if I can help.” Before he knew what had happened, Lavarre found the far wall rush towards him, pushing against his frail, human body, knocking all air from his lungs. The horrible, ever dreaded wail of decompression warnings echoed over the hull’s grinding, groaning sounds.
Suspended against the wall, Lavarre wondered what happened; then he remembered the guidance lasers; they must have hit the ship off-target. The consequences of that were staggering; damage would be enormous. Sections of the ship may have been vaporized to nothing!
Lavarre crawled to the door, slipped around its frame. The weird spin of the ship caused “down” to be the side of the corridors; re-orienting himself, Lavarre ran for the bridge – only to be stopped by two crew members running the other way. “Lavarre! Get away from there, the bridge is completely vaporized, bulkheads are sealing off!” yelled one of the men, grabbing his arm. Lavarre could barely recognize him, his face was so badly burned. The other man kept running.
“What? No, that’s not possible! Lindsay!” Lavarre tore free of the man’s grip, continued towards the bridge. Bulkheads barred his way; he pounded on them, bruising and bloodying his fists. After what seemed an eternity but probably was no more than a few moments, he composed himself, ran towards the ship’s engines. The ship was still spinning erratically; that had to be stopped before anyone could go spacewalk towards the burnt side of the ship, to see if there were any survivors.
Lavarre saved the ship from spinning off into the void; he got it under control, rigged up communications, signalled for help. Afterwards, they reconstructed what had happened; as the laser fired, a stray, undetected rock had knocked the ship into a spin, causing the laser to hit the bridge. The front of the ship and was instantly vaporized, sending the frigate lurching in the opposite direction, spinning wildly. Most of the crew on the ship received damaging doses of radiation, effects of which would last them the rest of their lives. Lavarre was reprimanded for his foolish stunt, and awarded for his bravery, ingenuity, and skill in saving the ship. He made Captain quickly, despite this history, only to be demoted after trying to steal his own ship. Stopped by a new ensign as reckless and invincible as he ever was. Lavarre laughed bitterly.
* * *
“Jules!” a woman breathed in worry, shaking his shoulders. Crystal’s face came into focus in Lavarre’s eyes; her chestnut hair, soft, youthful features resolved themselves before him.
“I killed them all,” Lavarre whispered, brushing her hands away. “On the Jimmy Cricket. None of them had a chance. Life is so fragile… it can end in an instant.”
“Jules! Come back to us. To me. Please. Today is the day where life wins over chaos!”
“What? Oh yes. Did Krantz move his ships?” Lavarre asked, following Crystal to the observatory, pulling himself along the rungs in the corridor. Gravity had vanished many minutes ago; the station had stopped its centrifugal spin.
“Not exactly. He didn’t believe us about the laser array; but his captains wouldn’t risk it. They moved. Krantz was put in a shuttle with non-League members leaving for Earth. He’ll be out of your way.”
“Good, good.” Lavarre sighed. He was too old for this. “Then we need simply wait.” Crystal led him to the observatory. As he stepped into its dark confines, lights came on, and dozens of smiling Star League members beamed, clapped, and cheered. Lavarre smiled in return.
“Thank you. Thank you. Please remember, we are not through this yet. In a few moments, lasers will fire and push this little station out of orbit, soaring past Jupiter at velocities so great it will take us merely a few centuries to reach Alpha Centauri. Once there, many challenges await us; but the hard part has been done. You have all taken a leap of faith, to travel with me, into the unknown. Like Columbus and Jennesen, we are pioneers; before us lies the New World. The challenges from here on in are nothing compared to the psychological and economical barriers linking us to this star that you have all overcome. While none of us will see the new world, we live with the knowledge that the steps have been taken, and someone, somewhere, will live to carry on life, that wonderful, thriving spirit that is in all of us, to the cosmos!”
Cheers and shouts of joy permeated the room, and died in a shush of wonder and suspense as the soft acceleration warning vibrated through the room. People quickly sat down in cushioned acceleration couches, and glanced towards the video screens that would show them the future.
From different points in what seemed empty space, but where Lavarre knew to be asteroids containing enormous complexes, storing unimaginable amounts of energy, shot beams of laser light. The lasers crossed the void with the unalterable, incomprehensible speed of light, coursing with great currents of energy, holding in them the power to destroy a world. This colossal hand reached the insignificantly small asteroid, on which the Star League had placed all its hopes, and its tiny caress sent the rock scuttling forward, towards the vast frontier of space, a scintillating, beautiful rainbow of vaporized rock and ice and laser light in its wake. It was in this flash o flight, this small spark of fire, created by human intuition, that the first seed was sent into the solar winds; that the mass exodus of life began. This was how, from a minuscule, seemingly insignificant planet in the Universe, did life sprout and flourish. Thus was the living Universe born.
