Isaac's Dream, Chapter 1

Isaac’s Dream
Chapter 1
There are so many benefits to be derived from space exploration and exploitation;
why not take what seems to me the only chance of escaping what is otherwise
the sure destruction of all that humanity has struggled to achieve for 50,000 years?.
-- Isaac Asimov

Here men from planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon July 1969, A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.

Johnny stared at the plaque from the park bench a few meters from the lunar module it was attached to and wondered out loud, “Do you think they had any idea what they started? When they landed here, did Neil Armstrong have a clue that someday, people would come here to read books, stick gum under this bench and wonder if they had any idea what they started?”

Verdan looked up from his datapad, squinting at his friend and classmate in an irritated confusion. “What?” Johnny was off on another tangent…

Taking a few steps across the lunar soil to peer through the protective glass at the remnants of the Eagle, Johnny readjusted his focus and found that someone had carved ‘Jimmy loves Kate - 2865’ on the barrier, giving him a new angle: “Do you think they knew we’d eventually come up here and encase this thing in a tower of glass, so that one day we could have a place to scratch enduring forget-me-nots to women we probably didn’t have a second date with?”

It was a restatement of the question asked by Professor Tinsley in history class for the following day’s lecture, regurgitated in Johnny-speak. The kid was a fantastic thinker if you understood how his mind worked, but the list of people who did that was very small. Verdan decided to give his best answer first, hoping it would occupy Johnny’s mind long enough so he could finish his homework.

“I don’t think they had a clue. They came here a few times at the peak of the industrial revolution and then abandoned that primitive hunk of junk at the first signs of societal apathy, when people seemed to lose interest in the program. They spent a decade reaching their goal and forgot to define what came next, then misinterpreted public reaction and lost focus on the importance of what getting here really meant.” He rose and walked to stand beside his friend. They both looked down at Armstrong’s legacy, a bootprint embedded in moon dust more than a thousand years ago.

“Keep going,” Johnny urged. He knew exactly how to get Verdan to engage a subject he’d rather ignore, and if the next six years of their lives were to have any meaning, he had to find a way to get Verdan to focus on his education instead of running away to join the Mekkido Corps against his father’s wishes.

“In their minds, that footstep was the end of their journey, rather than the beginning of a new one. In reality, they traded the Apollo legacy for a hundred years of mutually assured dysfunction.”

Johnny smiled. “Wow, that was deep. Does it hurt when you do that, or is your brain finally starting to wrap itself around this whole college thing?” Johnny absorbed knowledge through his pores and exuded it through his fingertips, a gift that Verdan didn’t possess. Consequently, Johnny had a lot of time to waste while Verdan studied.

“I just figured you were asking a serious question for a change,” Verdan returned his best friend’s smile as he went back to his studies, “if that’s even possible for you.”

“It’s a good question, though. If the Americans and Russians had any idea what was in the palm of their hands, maybe they wouldn’t have thrown it all away like that.”

Verdan shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t have a choice?”

It was a peculiar statement by a young man who was just embarking on a journey that would take both of them to the furthest reaches of the galaxy in search of an answer to a question few had even thought to ask.

***

Six years after that conversation in the courtyard of Neil Armstrong University on the Sea of Tranquility, the two young men were poised to begin a whole new life in Senka’s archaeological corps. They had been assigned a ship from the fleet, a mentor for their residency, and all they needed now was their first assignment. It was all a perfectly rotten mess.

Verdan wanted to feel better about being in this situation but it was going to take some time. If his father had given him a choice in his future it would have been easier. The ship was fine, the assignment would be a dream for anyone, and having Johnny along would make it a lot easier. Maybe.

“Johnny, quit screwing around and give me back my cutter!”

From somewhere above, near the darkened corner of the voluminous Mech bay, Verdan heard a faint chuckle. The young, athletic Senkan took advantage of the low G environment and launched himself up through the open hatch toward his erstwhile companion and crew chief at near hostile velocity. Johnny tried to avoid the impact but his magboots wouldn’t let him move that fast and the wrestling match Johnny never could win was over in a heartbeat.

Verdan gave his friend a playful thump as he effortlessly shoved himself back towards Explorer, sonocutter in hand. “When are you gonna learn, Johnny?”

“Probably when I figure out how to pick a better hiding spot.” The only time Johnny wasn’t kidding around was when he was sleeping, which averaged about four hours a day. To him, life was too short to waste sleeping or being dull, especially when you only lived for 300 years…

“Yeah? Well maybe next time you should stick it in your ear so it could fill in some of that empty space you got up there.”

“Oh, that’d be good,” came the retort as he followed Verdan back down to finish his work on the power plant of their exploration Mech, still rubbing his head. “That might actually help me get a date with Miller! I hear she likes guys with sharp minds...”

Sheryl Miller was a classmate with the two men for a few years, an attractive brunette with a gorgeous smile and the personality of an angel. Johnny fell in love with her infectious giggle and light hazel eyes but never found the courage to tell her how he felt. Simply being in the same room with her brought unending amounts of both terror and joy to him, reducing the otherwise confident young man to a muttering pile of mush that she found neither attractive nor interesting.

It was no small shock that Sheryl had used her asset management degree to land a job with the archaeological division at Senka Corporate, but pretty coincidental that she ended up being their mission planner. Johnny took it as a sign that they were destined to be together, but she seemed to have other plans.

“Keep dreaming, Johnny,” Verdan said, easing his way back into the sensor compartment. “She hates guys like you. She’s a gearhead! A sports freak! She’s athletic, talented, and fun to be around. She likes guys who... And you… You’re….” He shook his head and smiled that smile that said he was done.

“Come on, Super Jock, spit it out, I ain’t got all day…” Johnny ate this kind of conversation up, because when it came to a battle of wits, he knew Verdan fought with a spoon.

Verdan was the typical Mech jock type: Born oozing intelligence, charisma, and strength, but without an intact funny bone to his name. Johnny always figured that’s why they’d gotten along so well growing up, for whatever one lacked, the other made up for in spades.

All through their school years in New Tokyo, and then college at NAU, they had made the best of friends and the team to beat in any sort of competition.

Verdan poked his head out of the sensor cabin, tossed a grin to his buddy and said, “If the whole human race died out, and all that was left was you and her, you still wouldn’t have a pickup line that’d work if you had a cutter in both ears.”

Well, every now and then Verdan pulled one out, but you had to wait for it. Johnny laughed at what was probably a true statement, banging his head on a strut as he got back into position.

That elicited another snort from the newest Captain of The Straggler, a 300 meter long Senkan Corporate archaeological research vessel. While that seemed large for a crew that would be capped at five or six people, it was mostly Mech bay and cargo hold, giving the ship a rather pronounced hump back.

They were going to be xeno-archaeologists, after all, and what good was it to explore the galaxy if you didn’t have room to haul back what you’d just dug up?

The Straggler had been in service for almost 50 years and she could certainly haul a load. Her Molexium hull could hold more than 560,000 cubic meters of cargo when fully loaded, minus its standard stockpile of exploration equipment, spare parts, and crew supplies. That gave the ship a bulbous shape that Verdan wasn’t fond of, but the living areas were well laid out and she could support a crew of 25 indefinitely. Johnny and Verdan both called her “the flying bloodsucker,” but for different reasons.

The only thing Verdan liked about the assignment was that the ship came with several different Mechs, the term used for anything “mechanized” that men used as an extension of their physical selves.

While none of these were suitable for combat missions or arena battles, having a Mech specifically set up for exploration, another for cargo shuttling, and a third for mining and drilling would give him valuable time at the controls. He hadn’t given up on his dream to be an Mech jockey yet, and these would help keep his reflexes honed for a day in the Arena he swore he would see.

Johnny looked around at their new toys and figured that this wasn’t going to be that bad of an assignment after all, in spite of Verdan’s complaints. “Hey Verdan,” Johnny said quizzically.

“Yeah, John?” Verdan sounded irritated, but Johnny knew it wasn’t because of his antics. He knew Verdan well, and that it would be a long time before he would accept being stuck doing something he loathed, even if he was well trained for it.

“This is a pretty good ship, ya know? It may not be a spot on the crew of an Arena class Mech, like we dreamed about in college, but we have our own Mechs, and, you know, I think we’ll do ok, and maybe…” The unmistakable sound of a blunt object banging off the hull followed by a few choice words told Johnny it was time to change the subject. “We’ll work our way to the top, buddy. We always do.”

“But we’re not starting at the bottom of the Arena leagues,” Verdan almost screamed. “That last thing I want to do is work my way to the top of the archaeological division, only to look back at my life and regret that I never got to do what I wanted to do in the first place, which was pilot a Mech and kick Genoman ass in the Arena.”

Taking this assignment as their first job out of college was not what either of them had planned.

Becoming a successful Mech pilot meant fame, fortune, and glory, but for Verdan it was Bushido; it was about the way of life. To be Mekkido at any level was a connection to the Samurai in his Senkan lineage and an opportunity to embody the best of those ancient warriors; chivalry, loyalty, bravery, and virtue. These things brought Melyo, or honor to the man, and honor brought glory.

All his life, he had his sights set on getting into the Corps after college with Johnny as his chief engineer, but his father had insisted that he follow in the family footsteps. In college, it was archaeology, biology, chemistry, and astronomy. After college, it was turning out to be more of the same, but on Cendor’s terms. That hadn’t set well with Verdan.

In direct defiance of his father, Verdan had made secret arrangements with a Corporateer to apprentice with their Mech brigades right after graduation, but Cendor had caught wind of it at the last minute.

His father had put the screws to their plan using his influence as a Senkan Corporate officer to convince the mercenary that his life could become plenty miserable if need be. “The life of a corporateer, without the protection of a Corporate sponsor, can be very hazardous to your health,” Cendor had warned, and that was all it took to squash Verdan’s dream. No unaligned faction would ever touch him now.

The end result was an ultimatum: Work for Senka using the xeno-archaeology degree Cendor had paid dearly for, or go back home and spend the rest of his life studying ancient Japanese pottery fragments. Cendor wasn’t just his father; he was now Verdan’s employer, too. There had been no further argument but a lot of hurt feelings.

The CommLink chirped and Verdan popped out of the hatch again, angrily waving his hand at the console. A muscle twitch sent a signal to the neurogenic implant in his finger, which activated the C’Link emitters. Miller’s gorgeous form was instantly displayed holodynamically on the deck below them and his eyes brightened a bit, but not as much as Johnny’s.

Although she was light years away from them, the avatar projected by CommLink system was a breathtaking, full color recreation, from the individual follicles of hair right down to the panty line ridges across the back of her cute little bubble butt that drove Johnny crazy. Not for the first time in his life, he was grateful for the death of holographic technology that was never this hot.

“Hi Verdan! Are you ready for your first assignment?” Even as a projection, her smile was so bright it could light a small planet.

Johnny chimed in, but the only time his wit and charm seemed to let him down was in the presence of the only woman he had ever really cared for, and she barely knew he existed. “Oh sure, talk t-to the guy with the big muscles and ig... ignore the guy who does all the work…” The best intentions of his affections were lost in the moment and Miller only managed to raise an eyebrow at his awkwardness. That went well, he thought.

“Hello, Sheryl,” Verdan chuckled, grimacing at the sight of his friend crashing and burning. “We’re almost ready, but this exploration Mech we were given is going to need more work, and I’m short a few in the crew department. It’s just me and numb nuts so far,” he said, tilting his head towards Johnny.

“That’s okay,” she smiled. “This is just a shakedown cruise for you two. You’ll be picking up some cargo from a deep space crew and delivering it here, to the Bethesda outpost on Greely 3, so you’ll have the time you need to make whatever repairs are necessary. When you get here, I’ll have a dig set up for you so you can put that thing to work, and a recruit or three for you to pick from.” She beamed a smile at Verdan. “The coordinates for the pickup have been uploaded to your command console.”

He couldn’t resist getting Johnny’s goat, especially after his antics today. “Bethesda, huh? I guess dinner’s on you then?” He didn’t have to look at Johnny to know he was snarling, but it was all in fun.

“Sounds like a plan to me, Captain,” she said with a wink. Johnny swore at Verdan when her avatar disappeared.

As he listened to Johnny squirm, Verdan figured this might be a fun way of life after all.