To Touch the Stars (Founding of the Federation Book 2) Page 4

  Jamey had signed on to the Starship Design team thinking it was the best thing in the world. Fresh from college, he had no problems with working for Lagroose Industries. After all, his family had worked for them for years. He'd passed the security reviews; hell, he'd hardly noticed them! He'd been too eager and hyper about getting into team to pay much attention at the time. His college professors had tried to convince him out of it, but one, Professor Walkins had backed him to the point of practically packing his bags for him.

  He sighed. Walkins was like his late mother. Mom had been driven; she'd pushed him to learn at an early age. He'd learned to read before he'd gotten out of diapers. His mother's devoted attention to his education had shown him he could handle anything if he put his mind to it. She'd cheered when he'd graduated high school so young. He was pretty sure Hannah would have followed at his pace or even faster had mom lived longer.

  He shook his head. He was pretty sure now, looking back, that Walkins had set him up. She was tricky; she loved to play pranks on her students and loved her little thought challenges. He remembered it well. She'd been in a teleconference with a couple hyperspace physicists from Star Reach when he'd come by and he'd been sucked in. They'd been discussing the latest theories on the various bands in hyper and how to apply the models to the prediction of hyperbridges. Star Reach had been the leader on hyperspace at the time. No one else was really putting much effort into the design of a starship. Not a practical one.

  He ran a hand through his short brown hair as he remembered the event. He was pretty sure someone had offered the various professors a bounty on their most gifted students … that would have explained why so many companies and think tanks had hounded him for so long. Hell, Rogers had practically stalked him! He'd even tried to fix him up with a couple girls nearly twice his age! Jamey shook his head in remembered amusement. She'd been a looker but not his type.

  He'd followed his own path until he'd been intrigued by the hyperphysics. Bridging the theory to the practical applications had wet his appetite, and the daunting problems … some insisted were impossible to get around had only made him more interested … which was probably why Professor Walkins had been grinning when he'd practically elbowed her out of the way and monopolized the teleconference.

  He shook his head at the memory. He had nothing to regret, and he'd even thanked the professor. Sure, she'd been a bit put out that he'd made up his own mind and went with Lagroose, but she'd grudgingly gotten over that. At least he thought she had. Star Reach was all right. They had some good people, but they were mainly theoretical. A think tank. Sure, they'd made some strides, and they'd predicted the bands in hyperspace and hyperbridges, but he had yet seen them put any hardware into production. At least not successfully like Lagroose had. Most of the probes they'd done had been for proof of concept to “refine their models.” They'd spent ages processing the data … when they weren't trying to get more funding.

  Now he was doing his dream job and loving every minute of it. Well, almost. The meetings could be heaven or hell. It was fun seeing the ship come together, but agonizingly slow. The problems they had to overcome … he shook his head mentally. He sometimes zoned out when others gassed on about their problems, preferring to focus on the math or one of his own problems. He'd even discretely tried accessing his tablet in his lap to type out notes, ideas or equations until Trey, their boss, had gotten annoyed.

  Charlie, the director of the ship architects, had drawn him in a few times to solve a thorny issue. That reminded him about fresh eyes. Working with Doctor Niederman, Alec was fun. Alec was a goofball when he got going, but he had a good head on his shoulders. He focused on force emitters but on artificial gravity. Charlie though … he was an old hand but a steady one. Though his insistence on side issues …

  “Wake up, Jamey,” Levare said, snapping his fingers.

  “Sorry,” Jamey said, blinking. “I … had something I was working on.”

  “Sorry, didn't mean to break your concentration kid,” Levare said after a moment. He grimaced. Twice Jamey had saved the day by coming up with a work around he'd been sure wouldn't work. And once the kid's woolgathering had been a cover for a new equation that had helped with the plasma conduits. He'd worked out turbulence equations and then worked out methods to resolve the flow issues all in his head. When that meeting had broken up, Charlie and Levare had found the equations, notes and rough sketches in their e-mail in-boxes.

  He also kept working with Niederman on the artificial gravity and inertial dampeners. Niederman was more hands-on than theory; he was pretty weak on the theory really. Jamey was strong on theory but he could hold his own with the hands-on too. They'd come up with things that others would take decades to figure out.

  “Hang on a minute, my favorite reporter is almost on,” the older ship's architect said, turning the main screen on with his tablet and then setting it to watch the groundside news. Charlie was allowing Jamey time to recover, but he hadn't been working on anything important. He cocked his head.

  “Who?” Jamey asked, looking at Charlie. Levare caught the look and fought not to roll his eyes. The teen practically worshiped Charlie and everything he said, modeling himself after the older man. He had to admit Charlie was a great guy, but he had a lot of rough edges. In some ways Levare was envious and a bit jealous of the hero worship. He thought in the back of his mind how petty that was.

  While he was distracted, Charlie had changed the news channel to his favorite reporter, Oliver Twist. Twist was a handsome popular American/Canadian journalist who had a following worldwide. That was fine with Levare; the guy was scrupulously honest and fair. No, what bothered him was the guest Oliver introduced, Jean Ro Pierre, leader of the New One Earth party.

  “Oh hell, not this guy!” Levare made a face. “Change the channel, quick. Before I lose my lunch,” he groused.

  Charlie didn't even bother to shoot him a quelling look. “Oh, grow up. Sometimes you have to listen to someone you don't like to hear what they have to say,” Charlie said. “Most of its crap, but if we know what direction he's headed we can head him off or blunt the damn damage he wants to inflict,” he said.

  “True,” Jamey murmured thoughtfully.

  Levare looked at the teen, noted how he was intently watching the TV and then sighed. He knew a losing proposition when he saw one. He could leave or put his headphones in and watch something on his tablet, but some sense of perverse curiosity kept his attention focused on the fanatic as well, rooting him to the chair he was in. “Fine whatever,” he said, waving an expansive hand as they settled in to watch. “Just don't say I didn't warn you.”

  -*-*-^-*-*-

  Jean Ro Pierre sat politely as he waited for his turn to take the stage. The reporter was a flack, some American twit with pretty good ratings that Megan Su, his public affairs director, had insisted would be helpful to the cause to talk to. Oliver wasn't one of their people, so he'd have to watch what he said he reminded himself. He wouldn't put it past Oliver or one of his producers to go off script to trip him up.

  Jean was a handsome, charming man. Suave, sophisticated. A real ladies man with his French accent “sensual mouth.” He knew it and took special care to groom himself properly for his role as leader of the New One Earth movement. His parents had moved to France from the French quarter of Canada when he had been young, then returned when he had been a teen so his French accent was strong. He'd taken great pains to control it however. Women found the touch of culture charming since he was single and well dressed, but some men, especially American men, hated it.

  He was poly lingual and quite proud of it. He used his language skills to charm people to his side. His was a multigenerational effort to take mankind back from the brink of insanity and the environmental crisis to refocus them on rebuilding Earth and human civilization. All with human dignity. And if he ended up in charge, so much the better he thought with a mental licking of his chops.

  He was quite powerful, and not just because Canada h
ad been swarmed with refugees in the past fifty years. Many industries had relocated to high ground and quite a few that hadn't made the jump to space had gotten to Canada.

  Earth was still stumbling along, polluted, over populated, and crowded. There were just under twenty billion people as of the last census. That was pretty good considering they'd had to institute mandatory reproductive implants in many countries to get their population numbers under control. It had been incredibly unpopular in many quarters. The Christian communities had pitched all sorts of fits and dragged their feet on implementing it anyway they could for decades. Negotiating deals on it had taken delicate work spanning decades.

  The cities were increasingly desperate for space and resources. Thousands were crammed into towering edifices of glass and steel. Finding a job to support such living was rough so the idea of having a child was one reason the population had stalled in developed countries. They had been briefly eclipsed by others who had millions of poor who bred like rabbits until they got their numbers under control. Popular opinion was that China's one child per couple was becoming more of a necessity each year. He frowned mentally as he made a note to have his people explore that in a future discussion point. People were living longer; the life span was now past the 140 years. Birth rates had to come down further somehow or the statisticians were right. The population would past the twenty-one billion mark in less than a decade. That was unacceptable.

  Prisons were still full, the usual mix of murders, thieves and protestors were there, along with others. What had changed was the attitude on capital punishment. One option that had been debated for a century was mind alteration or even mindwipes. It had been considered cruel and unusual punishment so therefore it was strictly voluntary. Spend the rest of your natural life in a small prison cell or get with the program. Many sexual predators and serial killers thought they could hack it and get around the alterations. With mandatory computer monitoring, they'd been proven wrong.

  Still, the lack of capital punishment hadn't done much to improve the population numbers … but it had had a negative impact on crime. With access to modern medical care, education and proper nutrition, people were living longer lives. The catch was that still not everyone had access to all three. With the ongoing environmental crisis, farming was tricky at best in some regions.

  His predecessors in One Earth and Earth First had been wildly out of focus. Their main plan had been an all-out effort to kill the 3-D printing industry since it took away jobs from people. 3-D printing had been a boon for many people but hadn't been as big a game changer as some had expected. After all, it cost to print an item, and you had to put it together once the parts were done. It also took time, stank, and you had to store the materials … and if it failed you had to start over and recycle the bad part.

  All those points had been made many times, but really hadn't sunk in. He saw 3-D printing as a helpful tool, but stores were still around. Over the past century, two-thirds had switched to online retail with delivery within twenty-four hours however. Since they weren't making any headway despite subtle and not very subtle sabotage as well as political pressure, he'd retooled the party's direction once he'd come to power.

  His first line of attack was the population; they had to get it under control. It was a delicate issue though, he had to tread lightly in some quarters while not looking like he was trying to take advantage of the situation without offering a resolution to it. The public was aware of such people now; they were tired of it. He didn't buy into the whole distribution of wealth like some argued, though he would use it if he needed to do so. His second attack was twofold, climate issues and the need for green technology. Both were popular and ancient, so going green had gone a long way to reform his organization's public image. Getting solar panels on every public building worldwide had been incredibly popular with the population. The electrical utilities hadn't been happy, but they'd found ways to work the system in their favor. Those that didn't died out or merged into larger companies.

  The space program was in his sights and had been for some time. During the late twentieth and early twenty-first century, there had been some efforts from men like him to keep mankind firmly rooted on the home world. For a while they had succeeded. But once the genie had gotten out of the bottle, they'd found it all but impossible to get it back.

  In many ways the space industry was the best thing for the planet. A quarter of all resources came from space. Nearly a third of all industrial production was in orbit as well, and that number was climbing as terrestrial companies moved to orbit to avoid the heavy taxes and restrictive laws on the ground. They moved their pollution to orbit as well and recycled it. Not that the layman understood that last part.

  It was amusing in some ways when you looked at the history. Many of the people behind him and his organization were really after power. They saw the space-based megacorps as a threat … or were just jealous of their power and reach. Many were cynical hypocrites. Their parents and grandparents had vehemently denied global warming. Now that it was here and they had to deal with it, they'd done a 180 and were all for rebuilding … as long as they got a generous piece of the pie and their interests were not adversely affected.

  Which was why the tall suave brunette Jean was in the studio. He wanted a piece of the pie, a seat at the head table he thought with a slight wry twist of his lips. He was on trial in a way; he was to be interviewed to lay out his political organization's point of view and drum up sympathy and interest.

  He looked sharply to a man with earphones as he waved at Jean. Jean uncrossed his legs and took a sip of water. The man gave him a hand countdown. Jean nodded slightly and then settled himself.

  “Mister Pierre, a pleasure to have you on the show tonight,” the reporter said, turning to him. The cameras switched to show them together.

  “The pleasure is mine, Oliver,” Jean said, nodding. “Do please call me, Jean,” he said with a hint of his French accent.

  “Ah yes, Jean. I'm afraid I can't quite roll the J like you can,” Oliver said with a disarming smile. “We're on a bit of a time crunch, but I do have a few questions for you. The elections are coming up, not only the midterm elections for America in November, but also the UN elections in December. Your thoughts? Do you have any particular candidates in mind that your organization supports?”

  “It is not, as you say, that simple, Oliver,” Jean said with a small smile. He took the opening to lay out his case. “My organization wants to bring jobs back to humanity. People should work here on Earth, with easy commuting where their children can grow up. We can use telepresence communications systems to control robots in space. There is no need of the senseless risk we currently have.” He waved a hand. “Take for instance the deaths that are reported daily … and those not reported,” he said then tisked tisked, shaking his head. “Such loss of life is appalling and must stop. Also, the exposure to radiation must stop. Millions of people are being exposed every day to hazardous radiation. Eventually, they will come down with cancers or it will affect their children.”

  “I see. You did mention telepresence. I believe that is being used by some companies, and you did mention radiation as a factor in returning people to Earth. But are those the only reasons?” Oliver asked.

  “I'm glad you asked,” Jean said smoothly, hands in front of him flat to show he was relaxed. “All that money should be spent on Earth, going into Earth's economy to help rebuild our once beautiful world. Right now none of the megacorps pay taxes here. Yet they do business here. They refuse, so their greed is costing humanity trillions,” he said, voice gaining just a touch of anger.

  “I see. That point has been brought up before,” Oliver said, with a nod. “I know the individual employees still have to pay taxes to their country of origin,” he said as Jean played with his One Earth ring. “And I know many of the megacorps are incorporated under Mars so they must pay some taxes there,” he said. Jean's lips thinned ever so slightly but then Mister Twist shrugged. “T
here have been numerous attempts to find ways to redress the problem here on Earth, including more import fees and other charges. Do you have any ideas on closing the loopholes?”

  “It is a waste of money to go to the other planets. It is a drain on the intelligence of our beautiful planet and an insult to its civilization and its people,” Jean said, eyes flashing as his hands stilled. He made an appeal to patriotism. “Lagroose, Pavilion, Star Reach, and the other companies should pay taxes like everyone else and should pay for the resources they use. They should be on the ground helping to repair the planet,” he said stabbing his finger onto the table before him.

  “Interesting.”

  “It is only true. They should also be subject to the laws of the UN, not allowed to flaunt their independence. They are doing nightmarish things in orbit, things patently highly illegal here on Earth. But because they are in orbit they are getting away with it. That has to stop. What if something they cook up gets out? A virus or bacteria they cooked up gets loose and then it finds its way down here?” He asked, laying the seeds of doubt and fear. “Imagine it. Now imagine this. What if they did it on purpose?” He asked, staring into Oliver's eyes. “That's right, a bio-engineered plague. They could do it, then make humanity pay to clean it up. And once cleaned up, continue to pay to keep the plague at bay with vaccines and such. It can happen.”

  “A very frightening thought,” Oliver said, now unsure of his own feelings on the subject. Jean cocked his head, knowing he'd scored with a tough critic.

  “Setting such frightening considerations aside for the moment, I am forced to point out that some companies have gone out of their way to help mankind. Public record shows that Lagroose Industries has helped out in many environmental crisis situations, like the last series of storms that hit the Eastern United States, as well as the Tsunami that hit India and the west coast of Africa last year. They were also largely responsible for air drops of water filtration equipment to third world countries during the flooding of 2101. It is hard to imagine them as an evil corporation, sir,” he said.