H.F.S. ZETA
Hope Fleet Station Zeta, the 6th of 24 stations sent into the final frontier to preserve humanity. The Hope Fleet was named after a long-extinct creature from humanity’s mythical original planet, Ancient Earth. According to the sources, Hope was a type of bird that lived in hostile climates and brought comfort to humans before they could know things with certainty. The Hope Fleet acted like its namesake, keeping humans warm and assuring them that there was a future for them even when the last star faded and the last planet crumbled. Jey was able to see the original designation of the ship from his Cabin on the Station. He kept his bed next to his viewport, just to look down and see those words shining brilliantly out against the starless darkness of space.
Jey tore his eyes from the designation and went to his closet. It was filled with multiple sets of the Station’s crew members’ grey shirts and black pants. Slipping a set on, he brushed back his blonde hair and adjusted the pin in his shirt. A silver pin in the shape of Zeta’s Generator gleamed in the bright white lights of Jey’s Cabin, announcing his rank as leader of Power Generation and Use on Zeta. A job he had to attend to soon.
Leaving his Cabin, he walked the circular hall of the Station to his post. Everything looked brand new, each white section boldly defying the fact that it has sat in the same place for a millennium. Each viewport pointed out into the dark, starless space around them, and each light shined brilliantly from its fixture above, not a dim or flickering bulb in sight. Everywhere Jey looked, he saw humanity’s control over their environment, each piece of the Station kept in perfect condition, all working for the singular purpose that was given to it so long ago, to be the last haven of humanity in a dying universe.
“Like clockwork,” he muttered to himself. An icon appeared on his glasses, which he blinked at to open.
“Jey,” Cale said, sitting in his Cabin, his black hair nearly blended with the darkroom behind him, and his silver pin, this one showing a robotic hand stretched upwards, glittered dimly in the light of the camera.
“What’s up, Cale?” Jey said. The Artificial Intelligence and Development leader hadn’t missed the last meeting, so Jey guessed something had changed with the Generator’s programing.
He was right.
“Just ran a small update on the Generator controllers, nothing big, all fully tested, just letting you know because…well, because Captain requested that I did,” Cale said. Jey nodded, still not breaking stride. He moved past other crew members, raising his hand to greet each one as he passed them by.
“Ok, Cale, if the Generator explodes, I’ll blame you.”
“If the Generator exploded, we’d both be dust before you had the time.” Cale shot back. Jey laughed and told the other station leader he’d see him at the next meeting. As he signed off, Jey found himself in his spot. He stared out of the viewport, watching the massive black Sphere at the center of the white ring that was Zeta. Taking a second to gather his thoughts, he tapped the side of his glasses he gave a command.
“Clear to launch,” he said, immediately feeling the slight tremor under his feet. Four of the thousands of massive panels lifted out of place on the Sphere, revealing the black hole housed inside it. A blast of laser light shot from under Jey’s viewport and three other locations on Zeta. As soon as they entered the Sphere, the panels slid back into place, and lists of data scrolled past his eyes. He didn’t pay too much attention to them. He trusted Cale and the Artificial Intelligence. However, one number caught his attention.
“Panel A253 at 50%,” the statistic read. Jey watched the number. The panel dropped to 47% as one of the supercharged beams of pure energy, strengthened each time it passed near the massive black hole, smashed into it, and bounced back towards the center. Jey felt his breath catch in his throat. He hoped it would be able to hold until the end of this run.
“I didn’t actually want the Generator to explode,” he whispered to himself.
“Generator reaching end of stable runtime,” a pleasant voice called out. Jey watched as four new panels opened and light beamed out from the Sphere to four receivers on Zeta. A whole new set of statistics flashed on the screen, and once again, one caught his eye.
Final Power Output, 15 units
“That can’t be right,” Jey muttered, tapping his glasses. “Captain!”
An image of a human replaced the data on the screen. Captain was the oldest artificial intelligence in Zeta. A task manager of sorts, he worked directly with Cale and kept tabs on the other AI, giving commands to keep the Station running. Designed to look like an old-fashioned Ancient Earth Navy Captain, he fired off a crisp salute as a greeting.
“I saw it, Jey,” he said. “I currently have groups running diagnostics on the generator.”
“Get it fixed fast, Captain. We don’t want to increase generator use more than we have to. Also, get someone to replace that panel, or one of Zeta’s sectors might get vaporized next time we try to run it.”
Captain saluted and disappeared. Jey took a second to stare at the Sphere. A small group of drones carrying a panel approached it as he watched. Panel A253 slid out of place and the new one slotted into the gap. The drones latched onto the old panel and carried it to an open door in the Zeta Station. The notification on Jey’s glasses popped up that Mai’s recycling team was on the case. Within minutes, the old panel would be a light, a drone, or something else used for the betterment of the Station.
“Captain, call a leader meeting when you figure out what this is,” Jey commanded. Nothing changed, but Captain couldn’t have missed it. Watching the Sphere through the viewport, Jey started composing messages for his crew about the reduced output.
****
“So, how did Cale break the Generator?” Jey asked. He sat in his Cabin, the other 5 leaders projected through his glasses. Cale gave him a chuckle, still sitting in his darkroom. Captain gave him a look before speaking.
“We ran the tests,” he began, “and as far as I’m able to tell, the Generator is running in perfect condition. It seems like the reason the Generator wasn’t giving as much power was the black hole is beginning to noticeably lose its ability to make it.”
The leaders stared at Captian, struggling to wrap their heads around what he just said.
“I’m sorry, what in the name of Ancient Earth does that mean?” Mai asked. Her purple eyes widened, and she played with her pin, this one the shape of the Reduce-Reuse-Recycle symbol that had meant so little to the pollution-generating humans who designed it.
“The Generator is losing its ability to generate power for Zeta. The diagnostics team estimates 10 years until the energy cost of using it is more than what we get out of it.”
“Captain, I’m giving you three seconds to say just kidding or tell us a solution.” Cale threatened.
“Of course,” Captain responded, “I have a solution. We sent out range scans to find a new black hole. We charge up the old thrusters, take down the Generator, and pilot Zeta to a new home.”
Jey’s chest tightened, and all the other leaders looked around nervously.
“Move Zeta?” Cale asked, shocked, “we haven’t done that since.”
“Zeta hasn’t moved since it was initially deployed,” Jey finished.
“But it’s always been an option. If Cera and Mai give the command, we can have the engines running in top shape within the week,” Captain responded, gesturing to the two leaders. Cera had been quiet this whole time and jumped a little at the mention of her name. Jey noticed that her pin, a silver hammer, was missing from its spot on her shirt.
“But do we have a place to go?” Mai asked.
“The scans are still out there,” Captain said. “I’m sure that they’ll come back with coordinates soon.”
****
Five years later, none of the scans came back.
“What do we do?” Cale yelled, causing Jey to wince. The two sat on a bench, looking out the viewport at the degrading Generator.
“We keep quiet,” Jey said, waving at the people who stopped to stare at the department head’s outburst. He looked at an icon in the corner of his glasses and blinked. Cale’s glasses connected to his, and he began thinking out a message.
We don’t want to cause a panic, Jey thought, the Generator has a good 5 years left, and my crew has been taking my excuses about why the output is lower.
We can’t keep it hidden from them forever though, Jey. Cale responded through the glasses. Eventually, we’ll need to ration power, and we can’t tell people to do that without giving them a reason why.
We’re not at that point yet though Jey messaged back. There’s still a chance the long-range scans will come back with something.
“A chance?” Cale said out loud, “Oh, you are losing faith.”
“No,” Jey responded, “that’s not what I meant. We’re going to get results. It’s only a matter of how long they will take.”
“They’ve already taken five years, Jey. Best case scenario they come back right now, and the nearest one is two and a half lightyears from us, worst case scenario they haven’t found anything yet, or have dissipated entirely,” Cale said.
“And none of the other stations in the fleet have responded to our calls yet, so we don’t even know if they’d be there to help us,” Jey said, slightly mockingly. “We’ve had this conversation before.”
“The building team and Mai need to start making batteries soon, and you need to start filling them. That’s going to drain our resources, and you’ll have to explain to your team why suddenly engine batteries are a necessary use of our new limited power supply,” Cale said. He looked at the Generator sadly, “Even then, it will all be based on the chance we get a response from the scans or another member of The Hope Fleet.”
Cale looked down at the pristine white floor, fiddling with the pin in his shirt.
“I don’t know,” he continued, “It just seems like it might be better to have a quick, certain death than a slow, possible one.”
Jey shook his head.
“What are you saying? Come on, Cale, Humanity has faced these odds before and handled them without even breaking a sweat. Before you know it, this problem will be filed away next to aging, diseases, supernovas, and the like,” Jey said, with confidence he found he had to fake.
“Jey, that was millions of years ago,” Cale responded, “what amazing breakthroughs have we made since the fleet was deployed?”
Jey sat, silently staring at the Generator. He didn’t want to admit Cale was right, but he really didn’t have much choice in the matter. The last major scientific breakthrough was The Hope Fleet, which took place on a planet, with thousands of scientists working together to figure it out. What chance did 2,000 ordinary people and some Artificial Intelligence have huddled around a dying Generator in a dying Universe?
“We’ll figure it out,” Jey said, faking confidence.
The next day they told the passengers, the building team began constructing batteries to power the engines, and one-twelfth a unit of energy began being taken up to fill them. Yet they still didn’t know where they were going.
Jey had never felt the mood in Zeta shift so violently. For the first time in the crew’s lives, they were confronted with something alien to them, something they thought was only a part of old stories and legends.
For the first time in their lives, they felt uncertain.
Productivity on the Station slowed to a crawl, and cracks in the perfect white Station began to show and grow. Jey watched with mounting horror as the beautiful clockwork crumbled around him as Zeta deteriorated with its Generator. He fought to inspire what little confidence his crew still had. Trying to assure them that there was still reason to fight on.
Another meeting of the leaders was called by Captain. Popping on his glasses in his room, Jey greeted the other five people.
“What’s up, Captain?” he asked.
“I have news.” Captain said, being careful with his words, “about the scans.”
“Have they come back?” Mai asked. Captain cringed.
“they’ve dissipated.” Captain said.
The group fell into silence, all staring at the Artificial Intelligence.
“What does that mean?” Cale asked.
“It means that there is no other black hole within range,” Captain responded. “There’s no place that we can go.”
“So, what do we do?” Mai asked.
“There’s not really much of an option, is there?” Cale said, “We wait for the Generator to lose power, then we die.”
“There is technically another option,” Captain responded. “We have our SOS signal that will alert any other members of The Hope Fleet of our location. If we set the Station into low power mode, we would be able to keep the message going for a long time.”
“Captain, low power mode puts the Human crew to sleep for its duration,” Jey said.
“And we haven’t heard from any of the others in the Hope Fleet in centuries….” Mai mumbled.
“It’s Zeta’s best bet,” Captain responded.
“You’re asking us to put ourselves to sleep while you operate off of the small chance that it won’t kill us,” Cale responded. Captain tried to talk, but Cale’s image vanished before he could.
The group sat in silence.
“We need some time to think about this, Captain,” Jey said. Captain nodded, and the rest of the images disappeared.
****
Tapping the side of his glasses, Jey gave a command. “Clear to launch.”
The emitters fired, shooting laser beams into the Generator. The same familiar icons filled Jey’s vision, but he couldn’t focus on them. The leaders hadn’t met up since Cale left abruptly. And Jey knew there probably wasn’t much more to discuss. At this point, all the crew could do was make their last few years as productive as possible. If they went under, they would be able to prolong the Station’s life on the off chance another member of The Hope Fleet could catch the signal and come to rescue them.
He stepped back and forth in his spot, pacing in a tight circle. Time passed without him realizing it. Until his screens flashed red.
“Jey!” a voice from his glasses rang out, “the AI was supposed to open the panels by now. What’s going on?”
Snapping back to attention, Jey focused on the Icons. They showed mounting pressure from within the Sphere. The lasers were going far faster than the computers deemed safe. Why hadn’t the AI done anything yet? Jey tapped the side of his glasses, nearly hard enough to break them.
“Captain!” Jey yelled, the familiar face popped up on his frames.
“Hello Jey, what’s going -“
“The Generator is outside of the safe zone; the panels are being actively damaged each time the lasers bounce off of them!” Jey interrupted.
“You’re running the Generator?” Captain asked, in shock. “Why didn’t I receive any notification?”
A series of warning messages popped up on Jey’s frames, reminding him of the panels’ rapidly declining stability.
“I don’t know!” Jey yelled, “fix it!”
“We need to let it out,” Captain responded, “but where are we supposed to put it? If the blast is aimed at the Station, it could rip a hole in it at this point.”
Jey watched the numbers fall rapidly. If those panels hit zero, the whole Generator could explode, which would vaporize all of Zeta instantly.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
“Something must be keeping the AI from doing their job,” Captain responded, “but the only reason they’d stop is by interference from a programmer.”
Jey’s eyes widened. He knew a programmer who might be desperate enough to do just that.
“Cale, you didn’t,” he muttered to himself. Turning to Captain, he continued.
“Open the bottom panel.” He said, “Actually, just flat out detach it.”
Captain nodded. Less than a second later, the panel was pushed downwards by small thrusters, only to be immediately covered by a nearly blinding white light. Jey looked away from the Generator as it emptied its charge into the empty void of space below. When it faded, about eight dozen panels were completely vaporized or charred beyond use. Jey stared in horror at the damaged Sphere, even as drones raced out to cart the broken panels away.
“Do you think – that was Cale?” Jey asked.
“It’s – possible, he does have the credentials to modify AI without notifying a superior, and one could argue he has adequate reasons to try,” Captain responded.
“Better a quick, certain death then a slow, possible one,” Jey muttered. In the debris, he saw a cloud that resembled a small bird. It formed quickly in the billowing cloud of smoke, red and black in the light of the Station and the drones. Its wings spread wide as it continued to expand, but it was gone just as quickly as it had formed.
The thing with feathers, the bird from Ancient Earth, Jey watched sadly as the namesake of Zeta’s fleet dissipated with the smoke.
“How far have we fallen?” Captain asked. “Cale is smart. What in the name of Ancient Earth would make him do this?”
Jey sat down on the pristine white floor of Zeta, his legs failing to hold him upright. He looked at the Artificial Intelligence with sorrow.
“He lost hope Captain,” he said, feeling the last of his slip away into nothingness, “We’ve all lost hope.”
Will Fall Writings 