Panspermia Deorum (29 page)

The other two
gestured that they knew this.

“But that has
never been done,” said Julien, “in fact the nearest I can recollect
is around 3 KG for 1 KW of power, am I right?”

The chief
propulsion technologist agreed.

“Indeed, that
is the best ever produced until now. However, that was targeted to
get humans to Mars. Missiles are different insofar as the weight
can be trimmed by omitting any requirements for humans. They only
need to be as heavy as the actual power source plus carcass and
systems control equipment. In the case of missiles, there is no
need for observational and scientific apparatus. I’m looking here
at a VASIMR concept. You know what that is, right?”

“I think so,
but remind me in layman’s terms,” said Julien.

“Variable
Specific Impulse Magnetoplasma Rockets are designed to create and
push plasma out of the rear of the craft. The variable-specific
part means alteration of thrust can be controlled to allow very
small changes when necessary, albeit with some penalty in overall
efficiency. Anyway, just to compare this Soyuz design with the
needs of a manned craft, 200 Megawatt power sources would be the
order of things, but for small missiles such as these, only a
fraction of that power is required. I was scratching my chin
because I hadn’t yet seen the way the power was shared. Many or
most of the experimental work on this principle has been with
chemical propellants. This concept, by definition, required a
nuclear capability for the warheads, so power could be siphoned off
to propel the craft, and then switched to the warheads immediately
prior to detonation time. Obvious in hindsight, but quite ingenious
in a way. It looks like a complex coupling system, but at least in
theory I believe it could work. The other comment I’d make, if I
can anticipate your next question, is that nuclear propulsion of
manned craft has never really been a front runner because of
unforeseen risks of radiation leakage. This could be caused by all
manner of events outside the influence of the crew or mission
control. Chemically propelled rockets have always carried a small
risk of explosion, but no radiation threat. Real life rescue
missions of a crew with severe radiation exposure makes the
politicians accountable, and although they were elected on that
premise, they avoid it wherever possible. I know it sounds
disrespectful, but there are no corpses or living dead with a
chemical explosion, so the engineers pick up the flak others simply
move on. Sorry about my jaundiced view of these people but you did
ask for my opinion. Finally, I’d say that if the coupling and
decoupling of power from propulsion to detonation has been proven,
it should be feasible to get these missiles to Mars in about 40
days.”

D
uring the continuing impassioned disagreement between
Dr Villeneuve and the brain consultant, the issue was resolved. A
senior nurse knocked timidly on the office door.

“I am very
sorry to report that although Mr Kolorov is still hooked up to life
support equipment, he is now cerebrally defunct. Would you please
come and confirm what I have just said?”

Villeneuve
uncharacteristically banged her fist on the desk. There was no
mistake, Ivan Kolorov was effectively dead. Julien Delacroix was
summoned to the ward. Someone had to give authorisation for life
support to be terminated. After discussing every possibility of a
miraculous reversal of Kolorov’s status of being ‘undead’, Julien
astonished the others by declaring that he should remain on life
support. He waived away all protest and said he would explain his
decision at a later date.

Bondarenko was
apprised of the situation. He reacted by kicking a chair over and
issued a bevy of Russian profanities. Julien asked his advice on
how to treat Kaputin before he was sent back to Siberia.

“Even in death,
Ivan seems to be able to shit on my table just as I am about to
eat. Listen, Julien. We need to get Kaputin out of here. I should
go back to Siberia with him and your propulsion technician. Kaputin
must not know Ivan is gone. With the guidance of your propulsion
man, I should be able to pull out the interface protocols and
reinstall new ones in which I embed the codes. It will be an around
the clock activity and take at least a month, but with the help of
Kaputin’s workers, it can be done. They will need someone who can
instruct them in Russian. We should leave now.”

Julien accepted
this proposal with one caveat.

“When you’ve
completed the task, I want you to stay there until I give you the
signal to launch those missiles to the coordinates which I’ll give
you at the time. And you’ll then have to lock-in detonation
protocols which can only be altered or overridden from here. I want
absolute certainty on this point.”

“That would
take more time than I outlined a few minutes ago. Perhaps six
weeks.”

“That’s
acceptable. I’ll need you back here as soon as possible after the
launch.”

“Fine, I’ll
explain nothing to Kaputin, other than there is a potential error
in the control software. I can blind him with science and insist on
him keeping it under wraps if he wants to earn his project
bonus.”

*

Sophie
nervously approached her father, expecting to be challenged on many
fronts regarding her aftercare medical facility proposal. Previous
experience taught her that he always exercised a thorough
analytical response to change, especially if it was likely to suck
in liquidity running into millions.

What she could
not have known was Julien’s level of preoccupation with other
issues, such as – what would develop in Siberia and Jupiter space.
Then there was the final scheduling of the VB Aerospace asteroid
diversion fleet. His concerns were heightened by the ‘death status’
of one Russian maverick and what effect that might have on the two
on their way back to Soyuz. What was pretty certain was that any
change in any of these scenarios would generate the need for
literally hundreds of thousands of further calculations at a time
when the number-crunching system was already overloaded with demand
and overclocked in capacity. If it broke down his recourse to
influencing anything could evaporate. He had to be sensitive to
balance as well as urgency. He simply said yes to his daughter.

“You mean, yes
there are no questions? Or, yes we’ll talk about it some other
time?”

“I think it’s a
wonderful idea, Sophie. If both of my kids think it has merit, Dr
Villeneuve is supportive, your mother and aunt are going to work in
this facility, what is there to question? I’m interested to see
more detail, but that can wait until you have planning approval and
costs to show me. I’m really proud of you, Sophie. I just know
you’ll be good at something like this.”

She threw her
arms around him and almost lifted him off his feet. She scampered
out of his office and phoned her brother.

“He said yes,
Eugene. Didn’t ask me any awkward questions or pull any funny
facial expressions. Do you think he’s feeling unwell or something?
He seemed enthusiastic but distant, if that makes sense.”

“Sis, he’s
trying to save the planet, let’s get it into perspective. I also
think he sees what I see – a shift in your view of life in general,
so don’t overthink this, your self-confidence will grow with each
achievement. Not so much from appreciation of others in your
creative side, but the feeling of making a difference to those whom
you help. Get started, no more questions right now, but as you
know, I’m always here.”

*

Alexei
Bondarenko’s knowledge of Siberia was sketchy at best, so he wasn’t
too surprised when Kaputin told him that the entire complex was
underground. Silos, assembly lines, research, and IT systems were
all hidden from prying eyes. To all extent and purpose, the plant
didn’t really exist. Deliveries were by air and personnel parking
of vehicles above ground was forbidden. Apparently, this was not
taken seriously at first and there had been a few employees fired
because they flouted the directive.

He began to
understand why Kolorov had appointed an enforcer like Kaputin to
keep everything on track without attracting unwanted attention. The
helicopter dropped them off and disappeared without switching off
the rotors. Kaputin surveyed the landscape for several minutes
before using his mobile to enact the opening of a gigantic set of
horizontal doors, which were intricately camouflaged as part of the
tundra. The two of them descended a set of wide steps and
Bondarenko marvelled at the relative quiet of the first level as
the doors moved back into place, extinguishing all light. He was
asked by Kaputin to stand still until he was informed of the all
clear to proceed. It was still very dark when the watery
illumination came on and carved out a track for them to follow.

“Stay behind me
at all times,” said Kaputin, “you must not stray outside the
illuminated area. We will soon be inside the main level and your
vision will normalise.”

In fact the
lighting was very bright as they approached Kaputin’s office.
Bondarenko suffered mind-shock for a second time. There were almost
as many robots scurrying around the floor as there were humans. He
began to wonder whether it had been a wise decision to come here,
and why Kaputin had not prepared him for any of this. He hadn’t
long to wait for an answer to that question.

“You may be
feeling uneasy about this facility right now, but that will pass.
Mr Kolorov wanted as much of the work here to be done by machines
which could be recycled once the task was finished. This gave him
less people to worry about if things went wrong. Apart from this
level, with myself and the relevant experts, the plant is operated
by non-sentient devices. It has been a long journey to get to where
we are but it has paid off in terms of security and the time needed
to actually assemble the missiles. In reality, it took more time to
build the robots than it did to get the nuclear fleet carcases
ready. We have started to phase out the human contribution now and
that will continue until they are all gone. At least that is Mr
Kolorov’s wish. You have not told me exactly why you wanted to come
here with me.”

Bondarenko
hadn’t wanted to disclose Kolorov’s demise, rather leaving Kaputin
to believe his real boss would recover consciousness.

“Yes, Kolorov
and I go back a long way, I assume you know that?”

“Certainly, he
talked about you a lot. He wished you were here with him when he
authorised this project to begin.”

“Right, well,
we discussed many aspects of this place with Mr Delacroix and Ivan
when the ownership changed. One such discussion was in relation to
the interface between the propulsion system and the warheads. The
main concern was that the two companies employed different
techniques. VB Aerospace already had a second fleet to engage the
asteroid, and a third ‘do or die’ back up. However, in the event
that the Soyuz one, and their primary one both fail, all protocols
in the three fleets should be as uniform as possible, simply
because we cannot afford any panic if we ever need to launch the
third fleet. Operating new or different systems in such a last
chance scenario is ill-advised. We therefore have to make
alterations with this in mind. It does make sense, as all of the
launches will be authorised from Guiana, and two of the fleets are
there, so we need to alter the Soyuz setup.”

“I see, but you
are aware that this will take quite some time. Re-configuring the
robots alone will be a tedious exercise.”

“No, you
misunderstand me, Kaputin. I’m an interface expert. I need to meet
your team of human IT people and we can bypass the robots.”

“Ah. Well, most
of them have already left our employment. I think we have only
thirteen left. I will check this for you, and ask those who remain
to come to my office.”

Bondarenko’s
heart skipped a beat but he nodded affirmation. “Thank you. That
would be a good start. Can you ask them to come now?”

“Of course. I
will see to it right away.”

A
report thicker than a slab of butter lay
provocatively on Eugene’s desk. Everything else was placed in
parallel with at least one edge of the rectangular leather inset,
denoting a requirement for order. This tome was out of sync with
the rest, forcing the eye to accommodate its peculiarity.

Eugene casually
straightened it, intending to read it at some time in the next few
days, but the sub-title caused him to hover. ‘The Sculptor’s Guide
to the Infinitesimal’ was more
astrological
than he would
have liked for such an extremely serious research subject.

Flicking
through the introduction raised no further concerns, then there was
the list of claims. His eyes widened as he realised the young
researcher had not only confirmed his initial findings of using the
Zika virus to infiltrate the human immune system with alarming
ease, he’d actually taken the next step. One which Eugene had not
authorised. The reconfigured viral structure had been injected into
a lab rat prior to conceiving its litter. Eugene skipped ahead to
the appended photographs and was completely overwhelmed with a
cocktail of elation and horror. The baby rats all had rudimentary
wings and highly-serrated tails. He threw the report back on to the
desk and asked his PA to get the young man to his office.

“Immediately,
like within a minute.”

The young man
arrived sporting a broad smile.

“Sit,” said
Eugene, “I’m intrigued by these pictures. How long did it take you
to verify your findings since we last spoke about the Zika
virus?”

“I have to be
honest…”

“Yes, I would
certainly advise you to begin telling the truth. I need to be able
to trust my staff. This report was already written before you told
me about your ‘discovery’, wasn’t it?”