Binary Cycle - (Part 1: Disruption) (3 page)

It wasn’t until Linsya entered that he relaxed. Jonathas lifted his head and smiled as she walked nimbly across the room to him. She made a habit of meeting him here after every shift. She was right on time, as usual.

Her eyes went wide. “Jonathas your arms! Oh, you've been promoted, congratulations!" Linsya beamed at him, brown hair falling across porcelain skin.

She ran a hand over his newly tattooed skin, rubbing the raised patterns left by the nano-bots coursing through his system, like black veins.

"Don't worry about those,” Linsya told him. “My uncle's an Operator and you can barely see his lines. He says they very nearly disappear after a while.”

Jonathas managed a smile. “That’s good to know. Thanks for coming to meet me. I’m not even sure I can walk straight.”

He was always grateful for Linsya’s company, still amazed that she would willingly come all the way down here to meet him after every shift.

“Hey, come on, you don’t need to thank me. I love spending time with you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her lips bringing warmth to his otherwise frigid body.

Hand in hand, they began a long walk through dim corridors, heading up to the surface station. They hadn’t always been this physically close, but recently that aspect of their relationship had started to develop.

As they walked along, Linsya talked about her work in the Department of Distributions. Her job, along with a team of mathematicians and environmental officers, was to decide how to distribute the energy created at the station to the other sectors, based on the needs of each community.

Jonathas couldn’t help but let his thoughts run away as she told him about her day. Images of the robotic drones still danced through his mind. He swore he could almost see a three dimensional network of tunnels and pipes displayed across his vision, seemingly burned into his retinas. Linsya would suspect that he wasn’t paying attention, but she never called him out on it. He was always able to respond when she said something important, even when she thought he wasn’t listening.

Along the ceiling of the rocky corridor, the lights brightened significantly as they walked under them, triggered by the sound of their crunching footsteps, giving the impression that the hallway was less gloomy than it really was. After they passed, the lights returned to their original dim glow, pitching the path behind them into relative darkness. Jonathas had come up with the idea a few cycles ago in an effort to save energy. To her credit Linsya had taken his idea to the DoD and it was now being implemented in various sectors throughout the colony.

Jonathas had lots of ideas, but usually didn’t have enough time or resources to carry through with them. He worked hard just to keep up with the demanding schedules put upon the robotics maintenance staff, barely meeting deadlines as it was. The hefty workload was the council’s idea. They maintained that a busy colonist was a happy colonist. How else would people forget about the dangerous conditions of Taran? The constant threat of the Spindroth or gravitational disruptions? Life was a constant trial.

Something Linsya said snapped Jonathas out of his thoughts.

“Wait, you’re going to tell your dad about us?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. He had been hoping Linsya would tell her parents about their budding relationship for months now, but so far she’d been reluctant. “Why now?” he probed.

Linsya blushed, “Don’t get me wrong, Jonnie, my parents love you. But they always hoped I’d end up with someone… of higher status than a repair technician.”

The words stung, but Jonathas knew she was right. A girl like her deserved a man who could give her a better life, not get her stuck deep in the thermal mines.

“What kind of person do they want you to be with?” Jonathas asked.

She squeezed his hand tighter as they walked. “Well, someone like an Operator! My dad always said I should try to get to know Eddie Samson. ‘He’s the best Operator there is’, my dad always tells me, ‘and handsome, too.’”

They both laughed at that. Samson wasn’t exactly what anyone would call traditionally handsome.

“But honestly,” Linsya continued,” he’s too arrogant and shallow, I could never be with someone like that.”

Jonathas caught her smile in the dim glow of the overhead lights.

“So now that you’ve been promoted, my dad can stop bugging me about this. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Jonathas pulled her closer to him in the dark and they stopped walking. He pressed her against a rock wall and as their lips met, passion flooded his senses, replacing any lingering doubts he had had about their relationship. She moved a hand up his back as they kissed, hugging him tightly against her lithe body.

That was when the alarm sounded.

Cursing, Jonathas looked up as the corridor lights began flashing a dull orange. They had nearly come to the end of the tunnel.

“Come on!” He grabbed Linsya’s hand and they ran toward the large titanium doorway, which loomed fifty meters ahead.

The ground underfoot began to shake and a strange, deep vibration crescendoed against the rocky walls. They stumbled awkwardly toward the door, but just as they reached it, a violent shudder sent them tumbling to the ground. A buzz emanated from the control panel and the heavy door slammed shut with a thunderous clank, locking them in.

“Someone must have activated the security shutters,” Linsya said as she got to her feet. “Jonathas, are you okay?”

Jonathas closed his eyes, blocking out the orange glow and trying to steady himself against the wall as his head spun. The alarm blared in his ears and images of metallic drones swam across his vision. The robots, chased by molten hot magma, coursed through fiery tunnels. Jonathas was there with them as the lava churned through the rock, trying to drown them all in liquid fire. 

He fell to his knees and heard a scream mixed with the blaring klaxons. 

Linsya...

Jonathas called out to her and felt himself losing consciousness. His mind was succumbing to the shaking planet, and the network of machines which invaded his thoughts.

“Jonathas!” Linsya's voice sounded distant as he crumpled to the floor with a dull thud.

She knelt beside him, pleading with his writhing form, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Come on, wake up! Jonnie, I need you. Please, I don’t wanna be down here alone.”

...Please Jonnie.

Wake up.

With thoughts of her errant mother running through her head, Skyia was too agitated to lie still any longer. She rose to her knees and pulled her tunic back up around her shoulders, brushing off little flecks of dirt and moss that had clung to her body.

She skipped to the edge of the mesa and gazed out over her world. Standing at the top of the cliff, Skyia had an impressive view. To the East and North lay a vast mountain range—the high concentration of sodalite in the rocks gave them a gorgeous bluish-gray color. Even at this distance, the giant redwoods were visible in the rolling foothills. Thriving in the lower gravity of Taran, the trees were enormous, some of them growing a hundred meters in the air. Taran was slightly smaller than Earth, about eighty percent of the size, so there was less gravity. This encouraged most living things things to grow taller. Skyia’s mom said even people were now much taller than the original settlers.

They had planted the first grove of redwoods not long after their initial landing, and the trees had spread quite rapidly from there. Skyia liked to imagine that those brave men and women had planted the trees to remind themselves of Earth, their lost home. She felt sad thinking about the original colonists and how much it would hurt if she ever had to leave Taran, never to see it again. If only they could see the forest now, the trees so strong and tall, thriving just like the people living here, their descendants. She hoped they would be proud of all that mankind had accomplished since arriving.

To the south lay Alexendia, a sweeping city of sparkling white spires. This had been the landing site, and first human settlement on the planet. Two hundred years ago, the
Resurrection Ark
had descended from the sky into what was once a deep bowl of grassland. Beyond the city, the land rose up into mountains which protected the region against the harsh winds which blasted through the valley every Dawn, as the air warmed back up after the Long Night. She knew this protection was the reason the first settlers had chosen this particular region.

Alexendia was magnificent, but Skyia rarely went down into the valley. It was so much nicer up here. The air was so clear that she could see for a hundred kilometers in any direction. From her vantage point, Skyia could even make out the high wall that encircled the city. Inside the matte silver ramparts, the city-dwellers were safe. During the Long Night, the wall became electrified, protecting them against the blood thirsty creatures that stalked the valley. The wall surrounding the base of the Signal Tower Mesa would be equally electrified once Night fell. Nothing would bother her high up on this precipice, and when the time came, she could retreat into the rocky cliff itself, where she lived.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to be alone this Night. How she wished her mother would return in time to be with her. As much as she enjoyed the company of MiLO, the assistance robot who resided in the Tower, he was no replacement for actual human interaction, and certainly not for her mother.

Skyia stretched, reaching her arms toward the rolling hills, the mountains, the trees, rivers and grasslands. The glowing rays of two suns tinted the entire panorama in multicoloured hues. Her skin prickled. Up here on the mossy top, she was completely exposed to solar particles which bombarded her at maximum intensity. She supposed she should head back inside the tower soon, but was relishing the freedom and the warm breeze too much.

As if in response to her thoughts, the communication band on her wrist sent out a trill of beeps. She rolled her eyes, tapping the smooth surface of the band, answering the call.

“Yes, MiLO, however may I help you?” She half-grinned, wondering whether he would register her sarcasm. She loved teasing the little robot.

His normally warm voice sounded tinny and metallic through the communication band’s micro-speakers. “I have something to show you. Would you return to the house, please?”

She suspected that MiLO had arranged some kind of small birthday celebration for her in her mother’s absence, but she wanted to be sure.

“But it’s so wonderful up here. Is it important?” she asked playfully.

“Yes. Ah... I thought maybe I’d help you finish writing your report. You’ll need to send it soon, as I’ve detected some unusual solar flare activity which will undoubtedly make it impossible to send any signals over the next few days. And I’d like you to help me recalibrate the Tower’s sensors.”

For a robot who displayed very little emotion, he was a terrible liar. She’d woken up early the day before and completed most of the report before lunchtime so she wouldn’t have to worry about it today on her birthday. Furthermore, she knew full well that MiLO kept the sensors perfectly calibrated and wouldn’t rely on a human’s imprecise adjustments to do such delicate work.

“Oh, I’ve almost finished my report, and surely you don’t need me to help with the sensors. You’re much more effective that I could ever be. I’m only human,” she teased.

The communicator went silent a beat. Then, “Nevertheless, I should like to be sure.”

“All right,” she giggled. MiLO was definitely up to something. “But can I stay up ten more minutes? You should see the colors right now.”

A pause and then, “Alright, but if you’re going to stay up there, could you please do a manual recalibration test at the base of the Tower? I’ve been receiving a lot of static recently and I’d like to know why.”

He’s such a workhorse,
she thought.

“Of course, I’d be happy to. But you know that’ll take me more than ten minutes.”

“Take your time, but come back as soon as you’re finished…”

She smiled and said, “Yes, MiLO dear,” then swiped a finger over her wristband, closing the connection. Robots just didn’t understand the human desire to be
outside
: to feel the sun, to relax against a gentle breeze, to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

Ignorance is bliss,
she supposed
.

Her bare feet sunk into the mossy ground as she jogged over to the base of the Tower. Whenever she got this close, she was amazed at how remarkably tall it was—easily taller than any of the redwoods. She reached its glossy white exterior and found the maintenance hatch on its northern side. Popping it open, she keyed in her password—
Juliet—
and accessed the calibration sub-routine from the program’s archaic interface. On a pad of paper—still her favorite method of writing despite its inefficiency—she began to jot down the readings.

With her mother gone, it was up to her and MiLO to maintain the tower and monitor any signals it might pick up.
Not that it ever received any.

Twice a week, the Tower blasted information packets into space via a powerful laser beam. They sent the signals away from Taran, in many directions, one of which was the coordinates of Earth, more than four light-years away. The message was simple:
Humanity has arrived. We are safe, and we are thriving
. It proclaimed that here, at these coordinates, was Taran, the fifth planet of the binary star system Rigil Kentaurus, of the constellation Centaur. This corespondance alone was sufficient to tell anyone receiving the signal back on Earth that this was a planet suitable for human existence. Here they would find fellow Earthlings, the settlers of Taran.

But Taran was more than just a human colony; it was the
only
human colony. Since arriving two hundred years ago, not a single signal had been received from Earth. It was as if everyone had simply vanished, or for reasons unknown were unable to broadcast or respond to the light speed messages sent from Taran. The original Signal tower had been designed and built on Earth, as a long range transmitter/receiver, with an exact replica built by the settlers when they arrived on Taran. The idea was that the settlers would be able to communicate with those left behind on Earth, so they could coordinate more transport ships to make the journey, letting them know the planetary conditions and whether or not they were able to accept more ships. However, no signals had been received, and certainly no additional ships had arrived.