Exodus (The Exodus Trilogy) (3 page)

Ramon Solis had just turned
forty this past week, and it had felt weird. It was as if he were standing outside his own body, looking at himself from a short distance, and not recognizing who he’d become. Somehow, and this had been coming for some time now, he felt estranged from himself. He knew he was having some kind of midlife crisis, but hoped he wouldn’t do something ridiculous, like buy a motorcycle or get a mistress, as so many others tended to do when they suddenly looked at themselves in the mirror and saw their own mortality staring back at them. His wife, two years younger, coped so well with his current weirdness; he wondered how she did it.

It was the quarterly meeting of the heads of some of the largest and most successful businesses in the country, and they were
, as usual, gathered at the Havelar Industries headquarters in New York. His wife and daughter had followed him, to take the opportunity to enjoy some of the things that only New York could offer. Right now they were Christmas shopping, and later they would go to a Broadway show that he couldn’t remember the name of. As the other business leaders came in and sat down at the large conference table, Ramon found himself feeling a bit uneasy not having Isabella with him. They usually made all major decisions together, but she had wanted to spend some time with Maria this time. They needed to talk about college, she’d said.

Havelar Industries was one of several large corporations that had emerged within the last couple of decades to become the engine driving the new American economy, which had been struggling for years with competition from Asian and South American economies, especially after the fall of the Chinese communist party. Cheevo was another, and like Havelar Industries
, Cheevo and several other corporations had gradually, over the last few years, grown into a network that also included the former Holloway administration, as well as Andrews’s current administration. Since most of the old antitrust laws had been largely abandoned, and private-public cooperative projects were now the model for the new American economy, the network wasn’t as much of a legal issue as it would have been in the twentieth or early twenty-first century. But still it was something that wasn’t spoken about outside the inner circle of the Consortium, which had become the unofficial name of the network.

The Consortium’s ties to government didn’t just mean large government contracts; it also meant a steady flow of information, sometimes long before the information reached the
public, or even outer parts of the government apparatus. This was just another regularly scheduled quarterly meeting, and normally a representative from the government would attend, but Ramon was taken by surprise when the president entered the room. Right next to the president, a solemn George Havelar entered the room, followed by the secretary of the interior, the defense secretary, the national security advisor, the president’s science advisor, and at last a man he recognized as the old JPL Director Daniel Shaw. The president only attended the meetings himself when the topics were particularly important, and this unprecedented entourage indicated that this meeting would be something out of the ordinary. What in the world would make the president bring in the former JPL director? The Jet Propulsion Laboratory was but a shadow of its former greatness, an anachronism gathering dust out in Pasadena.

They all greeted each other with polite and sometimes warm smiles and handshakes, although Havelar, President Andrews
, and his people smiled less than usual, and they all had that somber expression on their faces more commonly seen at funerals than business meetings in the new economy. Again, Ramon got a feeling that this was anything but a business meeting. And then another thing happened that was contrary to etiquette. When the president occasionally attended meetings of the Consortium, it was customary that he opened the meeting, before Havelar, as the elected chairman, took over. This time, however, it was Havelar who stood up and took charge.

“
This is the most important meeting you will ever attend.” It was a short and blunt statement that immediately got the attention of every person in the room. Havelar let it hang in the air for a few seconds before he continued.

“
What you are about to be told is the worst news you could possibly imagine, probably worse. I’m sorry about that. After you are presented with all the information that currently exists, we will have a discussion, a very important discussion. The results of that discussion will set the course for every corporation represented in this room, for the government, and for all our lives for years to come. It will be like a pact, and it will bind us all together, more than ever. I know I can trust you all to keep quiet about what is said in this room today. And when I say quiet, I mean it. Not a word to your wives, husbands, kids, your closest friends, anyone. Get it?” They all nodded, slowly. None hesitated about the secrecy; they just wondered what could cause Havelar to be so … Ramon was unable to find the right way to put it. He just got a very bad feeling about it all, and once again wished Isabella had been here with him.

“
So, having said that, I’ll let the president’s science advisor tell you what’s going on.” He turned toward the short, balding man to the president’s left, whose ashen face matched that of his superior. “I can’t say I envy you the task, Harry, but however that may be, you’re the messenger ...”

The
science advisor rose slowly from his chair, took out a small projector, and set it up facing the white wall at the front of the room, so that everyone could see. The first image to appear was one of a starry sky, with one tiny white dot having a red ring drawn around it.

“
Ah … You’ve all seen this in the news for the last few weeks. This is Devastator’s position at the moment … What you see here isn’t 100 percent correct, as the image has been both enhanced and magnified. Devastator reflects very little light, and it’s hard to see if you don’t know where it is. For the time being.” He took a sip of water before he continued.

“
As I said, you’ve probably seen a lot of these images on the news.” A new image appeared on the wall, this time of Devastator and the cloud of debris surrounding it.

“
A week ago, we believed that Devastator would either find an orbit close to that of Mars, or be sucked in by the sun’s gravitational pull, and that would be the end of it. Now we know better. Devastator is on a spiraling course inward toward the sun. The bad news is that our orbit and that of Devastator will converge in a few years.” He paused for a second. When he saw that not everyone had realized what he’d just said, he rephrased.

“
It’s coming our way, folks.”

T
wenty minutes later, the presentation ended with the image of Devastator still projected on the wall, and Ramon couldn’t take his eyes away from that image of impending doom. The room had gone completely silent. Not even Havelar spoke. Finally, one of the other business leaders spoke, in a shaky voice.

“
Is there anything we can do? What about our nuclear rockets, if we launched them all at once, maybe we could divert it? Or, I once saw a documentary about a scheme to divert comets with lasers …” He was abruptly interrupted by Havelar.

“
Forget about missiles and fucking laser defenses. It wouldn’t even kiss the surface of this thing, and to divert it, we’d have had to discover it years before now. It simply can’t be done. So forget about all those fancy schemes. It seems a few other nations have seen what’s coming too, and they’re planning all kinds of futile countermeasures. In fact, the Chinese and the Russians are fantasizing about the very comet-diverting notion you just mentioned. I guess they’ve seen the same TV shows ... Ah, hell, as long as they’re not pointing those nukes at us … And while we’re at it, forget about holing up underground too; it simply will not make a difference either way. We’re talking earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear winter or whatever you’d like to call it. Shit, you name it, it’s coming.” As the message sank in, Havelar got up from his chair and walked around the table to stop right next to the JPL director. Ramon, having known Havelar for years now, knew that meant something. George Havelar never did anything unintentionally.

“
Let’s be clear about this, folks,” he continued. “There is no defense we could possibly put up that would stand a chance at stopping this fucker. All we can hope for here, what our survival as a species depends upon, is that the time we have and the combined resources of the Consortium and the government are enough that a small number, probably a very small number, can slip away. To where, and how, has yet to be decided. But as I just told you, what we should be thinking about here is the survival of our species. Most of us will die. If we can save a hundred or a thousand doesn’t matter. Of humanity, the billions left on earth will die. Their only motivation will be to save the handfuls that will go.”

A purpose then, Ramon thought. That’s what this meeting is about. Not just painting the face of doom up on the wall. Now, that’s the genius of George Havelar. While the
president and his advisors were still recovering from shock, too stunned to do anything at all, let alone devise any sort of productive action, Havelar already had a plan in his mind. It was probably still just a loose framework, but the contours were there, and although bordering on impossible, Havelar never set out to do anything he couldn’t achieve. He undoubtedly already had dozens of people working on mission design, feasibility analyses, and so forth. Ramon smiled to himself, as he couldn’t help admire the absolute genius of the man who just a few years ago was featured on the front of
Time
magazine as Man of the Year. He turned from his inner musings to listen to Havelar again.

“
Earth will be dead, one way or the other, in less than twelve years. So, basically, what we have to do is to build an ark. A group of carefully selected people in a large tin can, with the world’s most powerful nuke or some kind of sci-fi rocket strapped to their asses, will be catapulted into space to find somewhere to settle down, to build a civilization from scratch somewhere on some distant rock.” He paused as he took a deep breath.

The
security advisor, a clean-cut man in his forties, of military bearing and demeanor, opened his mouth for the first time. When he did, his voice was steady; he seemed determined to assess each angle, and Ramon immediately took a liking to this man. Actually, the man surprised him, because most of the government types had seemed more or less paralyzed.

“
That is, if we can get there before the ship breaks down.” He looked around at every one of them, and made sure he had their full attention, before he continued.

“
You know, there are myriad details, and a small failure in any one of them would mean certain death. Unless we can think of it beforehand and make sure it doesn’t happen.”

Th
e science advisor cut in, still sweaty from his presentation, but with a determined look upon his face. He pushed back his glasses that constantly threatened to dive off the tip of his nose, yet that very move made him seem a lot more comfortable now.

“
We’d need multiple redundancies in most areas just to stand a decent chance of surviving even the smallest unforeseen event.” He scribbled a few hasty notes on his tablet and continued hastily.

“
And the time frame limits our options dramatically. Sure, we might be close to a breakthrough in FTL travel, biotech might in just a few years expand a human life span to be several times what we consider natural age today, and the latest surgical techniques suggest ways of halting metabolism in such ways that people could literally be frozen for centuries before being revived whenever the ship arrives. But as you all know, we don’t have the luxury of time.

“
We need to determine how long we can reasonably expect to have to develop our solution, because at some point we’ll see a lot of obstacles appearing. One of those obstacles will be the political situation, should all this come out. Who knows whether a ship with just a select few people on board would even be able to launch once people realize they won’t be among the few who will go? There is no telling what the situation will be when people get desperate. Most of you will probably think we should use what we’ve got, and get off the planet A.S.A.P., just to make sure. That would be a grave mistake.” The security advisor nodded, as did a few others, while most stared quizzically at him.

“
But what if we wait too long?” one of the Consortium members asked. Ramon could see the point. What if some event made launch impossible, what would be the cost of that compared to having to solve a few problems en route? The science advisor just shook his head though.

“
No, no, no. Leaving too soon is the worst thing we could do. On the contrary, we need to wait for as long as possible. Every day we have before departure will pay off in scientific knowledge, technological development, training, planning, preparing, etcetera. In space, resources are limited, and improvements will be much more difficult. Here, we still have abundant resources, much of the world’s scientific and technological community at our disposal, and the luxury of making mistakes. We can take risks that would be impossible in space, and instead of a few hundred brains we have millions.” Havelar interceded, obviously playing the devil’s advocate.