{"id":1169,"date":"2016-07-17T17:38:18","date_gmt":"2016-07-17T22:38:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/keithgoodnight.com\/blog\/?p=1169"},"modified":"2016-07-17T17:38:18","modified_gmt":"2016-07-17T22:38:18","slug":"arrival","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/keithgoodnight.com\/blog\/2016\/07\/17\/arrival\/","title":{"rendered":"Arrival"},"content":{"rendered":"

December 16, 2183<\/em><\/p>\n

Armstrong rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt to get rid of the sandpaper feeling. He pulled a tube of caffeine pills out of his belt pouch and popped one.<\/p>\n

His seat swiveled on its gimbals as the transport changed acceleration, and he impatiently hit the button to return it to forward-facing and locked. He should have done that before; the seat\u2019s movement was meant for comfortable orientation during sustained acceleration, not when it was nudging this way and that on approach to docking.<\/p>\n

He should have slept during the last day. He knew that. He should be at his best when he met Star City\u2019s governor, a meeting he intended to have immediately upon debarking. But he\u2019d been worried the Colonies might try to interfere with the deployment. They held a conference call of all twenty-four offworld governors within minutes of the Offworld Force launching, and that had to be to discuss their response.<\/p>\n

Armstrong didn\u2019t know what they said in their conference call. It took place over civilian government channels, which the military was prohibited under the Constitution from tapping. The Terran government had intelligence agencies with the authority, given a court order, but if any of them had thought to listen they hadn\u2019t passed on the intel to Armstrong or his staff.<\/p>\n

There were so many ways the Colonies could block his transports from docking, or cause trouble for the companies after they debarked. If they did, there wasn\u2019t much he could do under his mission rules, except report to the CMO that the Colonies had opened hostilities.<\/p>\n

So far, nothing. He should have slept\u2014 at least, after the first few drops made clear the Colonies weren\u2019t going to cause any immediate problems. Even with the greater efficiency of military transport compared to civilian, it had taken thirty-six hours for the transport to dock at each Colony in Earth orbit, then boost out to the L4 and make the round of the Colonies there. He\u2019d watched every company leave the transport, listened to their signals reporting they\u2019d established themselves at their respective Colonies\u2019 military sections. He\u2019d listened in while the second transport made its drops at the L5 and then headed out to Lunar orbit. No opposition, no difficulties.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll crew, prepare for docking.\u201d The transport captain\u2019s voice came over the intercom. The ship\u2019s crew moved to their appropriate stations. Behind him, Armstrong heard his single remaining company rustling about as they loosened belt clips and grabbed for their kits.<\/p>\n

Star City just ahead. Destination for Company 8 of the Offworld Force, as well as for Commander Guerra\u2019s L4 Regional Staff and Armstrong\u2019s Force Command Staff. Final destination, as well, for the transport and its crew.<\/p>\n

There was the faintest jar when the ship made contact, and then the hydraulic sound of docking clamps closing tight around the join between ship and Colony. Armstrong unclipped from his seat and grabbed an overhead handhold to turn back toward the troop compartment. The company was already lining up\u00a0 along the zero-G handrail, ready to move out the moment the airlock opened. Captain Cole, Company 8\u2019s CO, hovered closest to the hatch, though he kept precisely the correct distance away while the transport crew went through final docking checks.<\/p>\n

Another couple of minutes, a final hiss of equalizing pressure, and the crew retracted the hatch. Cole immediately ordered, \u201cAll right, move out! Single file!\u201d Two hundred Terran troops moved smartly through the airlock in near perfect zero-G parade form.<\/p>\n

Armstrong smiled to himself. Not every company had shown such precision when moving out\u2014 not their fault, freefall training was a rarity for ground-based troops\u2014 but Cole had no doubt been mindful of the fact that his company would be the last to debark, and thus the most vulnerable to comparison with whatever standard the previous units set.<\/p>\n

Not to mention, the only company that would operate under the direct view of the force commander. With that in mind, Armstrong hung back with his staff officers for a few minutes. He had no intention of letting his presence undermine Cole\u2019s direct command of his company.<\/p>\n

He turned and gestured to his chief of staff, Lieutenant Gillespie. \u201cJack, once we\u2019re in the Colony we\u2019re going directly to see the governor. You, me, the whole Force Command Staff. We\u2019re going to inform Governor Safreth that we\u2019re commandeering his office complex for the Offworld Force headquarters, immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gillespie showed his surprise. \u201cYes, sir, but… that\u2019s quite a provocation. You\u2019ve emphasized from the start that you want to avoid an open confrontation.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA military<\/em> confrontation,\u201d Armstrong said. \u201cI want to avoid having to use force against the civilian population. The best way to do that is to make the Colonial governments realize Earth\u2019s not going to back down. Charles Safreth has been the visible leader of the offworlders\u2019 … let\u2019s say civil disobedience.<\/em> If he\u2019s forced to back down, it should kill a lot of their enthusiasm. And if I can push him to something that justifies his arrest, same result.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr it could light the fuse on the confrontation you want to avoid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a risk,\u201d Armstrong agreed. \u201cI think it\u2019s the best shot. We\u2019ve got the legal authority, under a state of emergency\u2014 which the President has declared, whether the Colonies deny it\u2019s legitimate or not. So if Safreth refuses, we can arrest him. If he agrees, he looks weak. Either way we\u2019re running the Offworld Force out of the governor\u2019s office. Appearances matter. A show of authority will help make the point that we have<\/em> the authority, under Presidential orders, to get this evacuation properly under way.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned to the L4 regional CO. \u201cCommander Guerra, while we\u2019re setting up the FCS headquarters, get your regional office set up here on base. I may want you to transfer your staff to the government office complex later, but not now. Get set up, establish contact with the other companies in the L4 region, and be prepared to report deployment status to me within the hour.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d Guerra saluted and moved off, speaking quietly to his own staff.<\/p>\n

The troops of Company 8 had by now all vanished through the airlock, and the transport crew was busy securing the ship. The constant background noise of the ship\u2019s power systems cut out suddenly as the crew shut down the engines, the transport now connected to dockyard power.<\/p>\n

Armstrong led the way out the hatch, pulling hand-over-hand along the zero-G handrail. He experienced a moment\u2019s vertigo when he emerged into the dock, as his mind tried to pick an orientation. Conscious knowledge did nothing to override the visual centers of the brain, which insisted there had to be an \u201cup\u201d and \u201cdown\u201d somewhere. He\u2019d seen the short airlock corridor as horizontal while he pulled himself along it, and for a split second saw the dock as a dizzyingly-deep, vertical pit suddenly opening at his feet. But as he swung himself around, the picture shifted and the dock became horizontal, the airlock a vertical pit in the deck he\u2019d just climbed out of.<\/p>\n

He was looking down what seemed like an infinite corridor with a distinctive upward slope in the distance, eventually vanishing around an overhead \u201chorizon\u201d formed by the ceiling panels. A slight hum of maglev bearings rumbled in the background, a smoother and deeper sound than the power systems in the transport behind. In fact the corridor was a ring entirely enclosing the Colony\u2019s six-kilometer diameter, rotating opposite the Colony\u2019s spin to remain in freefall. Ships could dock without fighting the full G of simulated gravity that prevailed in the Colony proper.<\/p>\n

Along one side of the docking corridor\u2014 to Armstrong\u2019s left, the way he happened to face after coming out of the airlock\u2014 rows of doors marked the access to the transfer lifts. A few slid closed behind the last of the Company 8 troops as Armstrong and his officers followed. He let one of his junior staffers hurry forward and hit the call button: it would take a few minutes for the lifts to reach their destinations and return.<\/p>\n

No one else was in view along the docking corridor, except those of the transport crew who\u2019d gone through first to open the airlock. This dock served only Star City\u2019s military base, not its civilian spaceport, so no bustle of passengers waited for their flights, no customer service people to shepherd disorganized civilians from point A to point B\u2014 and no ground crews on the scene, since dockyard operations were automated. Somewhere there\u2019d be an official monitoring the docks, but whoever it was would be working out of the Colony\u2019s main traffic control office, not standing by the airlock.<\/p>\n

It felt like something out of a ghost town. Every Colony had a military sector, and every one\u2014 like all parts of the O\u2019Neill Colony design\u2014 was built in anticipation of future population growth. That explained the emptiness. Even the 200 troops dropped off at each Colony wouldn\u2019t fill their base housing, standing empty and ready for future occupation. Still, to Armstrong the deserted dock felt more like abandoned than anticipatory. Perhaps it was because the expected future occupation would now never happen. At least, not if the President had his way.<\/p>\n

With a chime the transfer lifts opened again, shaking Armstrong out of his depressing thoughts. He and his staff pulled along the handrails into several different lifts\u2014 they were too many for just one\u2014 and after a few moments the doors slid closed and he felt the sideways pressure as the lifts accelerated on their rails to catch up to the Colony\u2019s rotation. Gravity appeared at once, slight and first and then building, up to a full G. Now locked on to the main bulk of Star City, the lift rose\u2014 up and down were real now\u2014 through the outer shielding and machine decks to reach the main deck of the military base.<\/p>\n

The doors slid open again and Armstrong stepped out. Sunlight shafted down from overhead skylights: the main level was just below the open interior of the Colony, and glass doors at the top of a flight of metal stairs marked the main entrance to the base from Star City proper. In the reception area, the troops of Company 8 were lined up in orderly rows, waiting to be directed to quarters. Armstrong spotted two officers he didn\u2019t know speaking to Captain Cole. They\u2019d be part of Star City\u2019s tiny permanent unit. Probably the base commander herself\u2014 Lieutenant Greene, he recalled, who until now had only to supervise a tiny staff that did double duty of monitoring the communications network, and providing the required honor guard at election polling places.<\/p>\n

There\u2019d be time to meet Green later. For now, making sure she\u2019d prepared the base for the company\u2019s arrival was Captain Cole\u2019s business. Armstrong wanted to waste no time making his visit to the governor\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

With Gillespie and the FCS officers following, Armstrong made directly for the stairs up to the main entrance. Outside, the glass doors opened onto what looked like parkland. It was something Armstrong remembered from growing up in Star City: any green plant contributed to the Colony\u2019s lifesystems, and while the contribution wasn\u2019t much compared to the algae tanks designed for the purpose, Colony designers still liked to cover every possible horizontal surface in the interior with green space. Here, a straight white walkway led away from the doors, between two well-manicured shrubs, to an intersecting walkway that led off to either side.<\/p>\n

He was in the dome-shaped end cap of the Colony\u2014 \u201cSunward Dome,\u201d the center of business and government offices in the Colony. Behind him as he came through the doors, balconies rose in staggered rows, their curvature more obvious the higher they rose, breaking the inside of the dome into a series of terraces. Trees and shrubs showed on every terrace, and here and there climbing vines worked their way untidily over the edges. Sunlight, reflected from outside by carefully angled mirrors, lit up everything in bright white. The air smelled like the outdoors on Earth.<\/p>\n

But Armstrong didn\u2019t have time to admire the view on his return to his hometown. Star City\u2019s government complex occupied the first level up from \u201cground,\u201d and the governor\u2019s office would be about ninety degrees clockwise from the military base entrance. Armstrong wanted his arrival there to be as soon after his arrival as he could make it. The more impatient, the more forceful he could appear when barging in on whatever the governor might be doing, the better he would make the necessary impression.<\/p>\n

But Armstrong got the first surprise of his mission when he strode down the walkway and turned toward the government offices. The moment he rounded the corner he saw, lounging casually against the trunk of a tree beside the walkway, Charles Safreth himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello Warren,\u201d Safreth said. \u201cWelcome home. If I\u2019m not mistaken, you haven\u2019t been back since you graduated from high school.\u201d He straightened, stepping away from the tree. \u201cI gather we need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

TO BE CONTINUED<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

December 16, 2183 Armstrong rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt to get rid of the sandpaper feeling. He pulled a tube of caffeine pills out of his belt pouch and popped one. His seat swiveled on its gimbals as…<\/p>\n

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