The Star Riders
“Starrider, rider, rider
Show me where you are
Starrider, rider, rider
Take me to the stars
Speed increasing
All control is in the hands of those who know
Will they help us grow
To one day be starriders”
-Mike Jones and Al Greenwood of Foreigner
Mr. Hill was training a new
apprentice. He showed the young female
the control and monitoring station for the project he had devoted his
professional life to. The project involved
careful alignment of each of the twenty robot spacecraft that were distributed
around the sun. Most people did not
even know about the project, although it was no secret. Mr. Hill supposed they were simply living
their lives on the ground, with little interest in space. Mr. Hill had often wondered if it were a
good thing not to have attention. If an
uninformed general public took an interest in the project, they might conclude
that it was reckless and protest. It
had happened with other projects carried out as part of the space program. Even his apprentice had not known what was
happening until he had briefed her. She
had heard that such an endeavor had been attempted long ago, but did not know
that the project had succeeded and was ongoing.
Mr. Hill’s job was to adjust the
programming for the cogs. The term cog
had grown out of a forgotten acronym that described the form and function of
the robotic spacecraft, but the word continued to be used because it fit. The cogs were carefully positioned around
the sun and consisted of a gravity generator, engine, computer and
transmitter. Working together, just
like cogs in a machine, they altered the shape of the sun’s existing
gravitational field, so that the life-giving star’s movement could be
controlled. It had been much simpler to
accomplish than the project’s original founders had anticipated. In fact, the project could be controlled by
one person, except during problematic circumstances. If a problem did arise and Mr. Hill needed help, he would simply
contact the administrators and they would send people. It was not bad work. He simply had to live in the free housing
provided and keep an eye on the cogs. Typically, the job was just a matter of
keeping them in their correct position and scheduling the maintenance provided
by robotic support craft. The cogs were
solar powered and needed to be near the sun, so they did not even need to be
re-fueled. The greatest challenge to
the project was the time required to complete it. For generations, one person had made a career out of controlling
the project and then trained an apprentice and retired, as Mr. Hill was about
to do.
Mr. Hill showed his apprentice, Ms.
Lightrow, how to use the project’s computer. The computer showed her the
position of the cogs and the shape of the sun’s gravitational field, complete
with vectors indicating the direction and speed of the sun and, therefore, the
solar system as it moved through space.
It also displayed status and a first-person view from each cog. Finally, there was the alarm program. Alarms would go off if the sun began to
travel to fast, or if its turn was to steep, if anyone ever did change the
direction of the sun’s travel. The
margin for error was generous to what seemed a ridiculous degree, until one
kept in mind that an error could affect the orbit of every planet in the
system, endangering the population of the three that were currently inhabited.
Better to be ridiculously careful than to take any chances.
Ms. Lightrow was a sharp young lady,
quick to understand. Mr. Hill knew that
she had been selected from a number of promising applicants to the space
program, based on ability and personality.
Having been briefed and now being trained, she observed quietly with a
sense of awe. Her excitement increased
when Mr. Hill told her what would happen next. The sun and its planetary passengers were on a heading that would
take them within half a lightyear of another yellow star, an alien sun that had
been chosen because of its similarity to the solar system’s own. Of the inner planets, the third looked promising. Although its atmosphere was not hospitable,
robotic probes, sent as part of the space program long ago, had observed that
there was water and oxygen below ground waiting to be released. When the time was right, one cog could do
the job. A temporary, relatively tiny
change in the planet’s gravitational field should be enough to allow the needed
materials to escape. If it were
successful, the planet could be prepared for people to arrive. The use of eaters would be helpful
there. Eaters were carefully bred
microorganisms designed to eat the sewage and pollution created by modern
society. Different strains were used on
different contaminants and they had worked quite well at home. The plan was to take them to the target
planet and allow them to cleanse the ground and water supply. Eaters had always been quite good at
producing fertile topsoil as well as eliminating waste. Finally, when the target planet was ready,
volunteers would be recruited to found a colony. As the sun passed as close as the project’s controller dared,
colonists could be sent to their new home. The sun would then go on its merry
way. Where it would go next was yet to be decided.
Wanting to see his young
apprentice’s reaction, Mr. Hill had saved one last bit of information for
last. He showed her the schedule on his
computer. A shiny new cog was scheduled
to be launched in a few years, easily within her lifetime. She understood immediately and could barely
talk about it. She was being trained to
preside over the establishment of the first space colony, or at least the
earliest preparations. Mr. Hill ended
the training session there and cooked a meal for himself and his apprentice,
showing her around what would be her kitchen when he retired in the
process. She was full of questions and
observations and Mr. Hill found himself enjoying her company and looking
forward to training her.
Ms. Lightrow’s training went
according to plan. She had no trouble
learning the job and when the time came, Mr. Hill felt quite comfortable leaving
the project to her and retiring. Under
her supervision, the cogs held their position, causing the sun to stay on
course. Years went by before she
received a message from an administrator.
The only contact she had had with them consisted of requisitioning and
receiving the things she needed to live.
The unexpected message notified her that the traveling cog was ready to
launch and asking her to give the go-ahead when the target planet was close
enough. Although she knew that the
alien sun was a little over two lightyears away, she used the computer to check
on it anyway. When she answered the
message, she included its distance and her estimate of the travel time it would
take for the cog to reach the target planet.
She also organized her thoughts into a brief paragraph on the cog’s
chances of success in adjusting the alien planet’s field and releasing its
resources, including the effect of a long journey on the automated craft. She concluded the message with a
recommendation that the cog’s launch be delayed until the two suns were closer
to each other. In her mind, she
pictured another person in a position much like her own, overseeing the
building and launch of the traveling cog.
If she were in that position, she knew she would be brimming with
anticipation but also cautious. She had
not expected it to fall on her to choose a launch date. Too soon and the
worn-out cog could easily malfunction.
Too late and the two suns could pass each other before the planet was
ready to receive colonists. She knew
quite well that her project would be unable to decelerate the sun artificially
and that letting it drift and slow to a chosen speed required years of advance
notice.
Eventually, she received an answer
to her message that let her know the proposed plan and asked for her
recommendations. The traveling cog
would be launched as soon as possible, but several back-up craft would be ready
in case it failed. Ms. Lightrow felt a
little silly for not having thought of back-up cogs. She knew there were several at her disposal, in case a cog
involved in the project were to fail entirely. She voiced her enthusiasm for
the launch and the next message she received did announce a launch date.
On launch day, Ms. Lightrow watched
the event on the project computer. The
round, metallic cog seemed humble to her, as it looked like any number of cogs
she had seen in operation. Launching it
was quite simple. The machine had been
programmed to act at the appointed time, to turn itself on and activate its
gravity generator. When working, the
generator would create its own gravitational field, shape it so that up would
become down and then fall upward, away from the ground and into space. For the time being, Ms. Lightrow looked it
over as it sat and waited. It had a section
that the project cogs lacked and she was reasonably certain that it carried its
own power source, so it did not have to rely on solar. Her trained mind pictured the sequence of
the machine’s programming. Launch,
change course, accelerate to a pre-determined speed, drift, locate the target
planet, examine its gravitational field, determine a position, re-adjust
generator settings and, finally, transmit the results. Hopefully, on the planet below it, water or
ice would be vaporized and vented into the planet’s useless atmosphere, to rain
down onto the surface.
Ms. Lightrow’s anticipatory musings
were cut short as the traveling cog suddenly accelerated straight up and out of
sight. She worked the computer,
carefully checking the cogs and their fields. She knew that would be it, for
years. The traveling cog would be unable to receive new programming, so it
would simply follow its instructions and send reports. She, and everyone, would know only then if
its mission were a success. She also
knew that five more traveling cogs were to be launched. Each one would arrive at the target planet
and analyze the effect of its predecessors before either making another attempt
at releasing the water or landing on the planet and shutting down. Ms. Lightrow also knew that the automated
probes carrying eaters would be sent in the same way, ready to back each other
up if the eaters either failed to survive the journey or were unable to
multiply and create topsoil.
Uneventful years went by. Ms. Lightrow easily maintained, repositioned
and occasionally replaced the project cogs as the sun above her closed in on
the alien solar system with the imperceptible slowness of cosmic events. She found herself daydreaming about what would
happen next. The barren, brown hunk of
rock and dust would become a fertile, blue and green globe like her own
planet. She envisioned people, a few at
first, and then a whole new civilization. It had been so long since the world
had had an empty place for the frustrated, bored and restless of society to
travel to and start a new life. She
knew that the new planet would be open to future generations, but she still
dreamed herself into the roll of a simple colonist, molding a world for her
grandchildren.
After years of travel, that first cog
reached the target planet. Its
programmed brain examined the planet’s gravitational and magnetic fields and
modified its instructions. It was a
simple adjustment to add its generated gravitational field to the planet’s own,
creating a slight shift. The cog eased
into orbit and worked. Inside the
planet’s core, the change manifested itself as a subtle acceleration of the
circular currents within that ball of molten metal. The planet’s magnetic field grew and shifted into a protective
shield against radiation from space. Also, pressure shifted as the cog’s
gravity combined with the influence of the altered magnetism, which settled
around two poles nearly aligned with the planet’s existing rotational poles. As
planned, the planet’s surface cracked open and vented water into the air. The cog slowly reduced its field as it
adjusted its orbit. Following its
program, it carefully recorded the changes below, watching as rain fell on the
surface and settled over all but the high ground, dividing the globe into a
vast ocean and a single continent. It
also recorded a shift in the movement of the target planet’s only moon as its
orbit changed so that one side always faced the planet. The moon’s gravity also influenced the
target planet, forming a pattern of currents and tides in the new ocean. Waves crashed on the rocky shores of the
lone continent and the moving water began to absorb minerals from what had been
exposed ground. The cog transmitted its
report, which would reach its destination years later.
Ms. Lightrow received the report and
it fueled her daydreams. The target
planet became a comfortable place in her mind’s eye. Colonists reaped the bounty of a new ecosystem and lived easy,
independent lives. Families spread over
the surface, each with a place to call its own to explore and settle in. Her dream took a hot erotic turn. Like most people, she had had herself
sterilized, had taken responsibility, as the authorities called it. There were too many people on her own planet
and it had created problems, but it would be different on a new world. She amused herself with happy dreams of the
other extreme.
The traveling cog continued to
document the actual target planet from orbit. A salty, active sea pounded
shores of bare rock, beginning to shape them.
Rain fell, making the beginnings of a cycle of rivers and lakes on the
continent and scattered islands that made up the land, flowing and evaporating
to rain down again. The cog sent back
images of a blue sky, complete with clouds and a weather system, over a
pristine sea. One by one, the back-up
cogs arrived and used their programming to determine not to act, but simply to
record and transmit. Following them,
the series of automated probes programmed to deliver eaters arrived with
mechanical regularity. Each created a
set of automated observations, used it to find a target area, descended to the
lifeless planet and released its cargo. The immigrant microbes were released
into lakes, rivers and the ocean, with the hope that they would multiply and spread. These immigrants were not the humble workers
that managed waste at home, but were something new. They were specialists, carefully altered to find shoreline,
devour any mineral that could sustain them and excrete soil. There was also a wide diversity provided,
organisms made to try different methods of survival with the belief that some
ways would work. Some had to stay in
the water while others could make their way onto land and different types had
different diets.
In orbit, the traveling cogs observed
this as well. Years went by and change
was as slow as any geological event. As
one sun moved through space on a controlled course, the other, alien sun moved
naturally as it shone down on a changing planet. As the cogs continued to record and transmit with automated
diligence, the news they sent was alarming.
The eaters had not survived and neither had the hope for a successful
colony. It seemed the air was contaminated
with nitrogen, a development that had not been anticipated. In fact, there was more of it than oxygen in
the atmosphere. In her home, Ms.
Lightrow read the reports that she received after they had been analyzed and
interpreted by her employers. Her dream
of a colony burst like a bubble. She
had grown old and now felt even older. She knew it was time to retire, to train
an apprentice and move on. The project
would continue. Other target planets
had already been found, so it was simply a matter of changing course, of gently
steering the sun. That task would be
her apprentice’s life work. More
traveling cogs and automated probes would be built, more specialized eaters
would be bred and much had been learned from this failed attempt.
Ms. Lightrow decided to move her
home closer to a vender, so that she could have a new home custom built. If she planned ahead, her new home would be
ready in time for her retirement. Her
home was mobile, like all the homes her species lived in. Her species had evolved from a crustacean
that moved into the discarded shells of large mollusks, which were common on
her world. As their society had
advanced, her species had gone from carrying all they owned on their backs to
living in small homes on wheels and then had developed floating homes, as the
gravity generator came into widespread use. As modern as they were, the
crustacean people would still leave their homes only in an emergency, or to
visit another person’s home, in which case the homes were moved together so
that a door on each nearly touched. They
felt instinctively uncomfortable outside, a sensation of being naked and
exposed. Robots were also crucial to
the development of their society, as automated machines extended their reach
into the outside world.
As Ms. Lightrow worked on her
computer in the comfort of her home, all of her soft parts were extended from
the calcite shell that her species has. Her eyestalks bobbed unconsciously as
her gaze shifted over the screen. Her
retractable fingers, which resembled the legs of a starfish, extended from the
holes at the end of her armored arms.
She rested on her soft tail, which resembled a snake in the way she was
able to move about by crawling but was much thicker in proportion. All the soft parts could be retracted into
her dark-gray shell, which was more or less a cylinder with arms, much like a
lobster’s, but with openings where a lobster’s tail and claws would be. For her species, when one was startled or
facing a sudden danger, all the soft parts would be pulled suddenly inside the
shell, including the three fingers on each hand, tail, eyes and
mouth-tube.
The crustacean people approached
problems very differently than a human being would. Throughout their history as an intelligent, technologically
advanced species, it had never occurred to them to build an immobile structure,
or even to make alterations to the outside environment beyond minor adjustments
carried out by robots. Even when it
came to growing food, they had scattered seeds without coming all the way out
of their homes until the invention of robots and floating homes large enough
for indoor farming. It was this way of
thinking that had led them to their unique method of space travel. Bringing their own sun and solar system
along as they went was what seemed normal to them and the idea of putting a
person inside a spacecraft and sending it into the outside universe for any
longer than was necessary seemed ridiculous and dangerous.
So, one sun passed another and
gently steered away. In the alien
system, the target planet continued along its orbit, unsuitable for colonization
but with its nature changed forever.
Unknown to their creators, a tiny portion of the eaters had
survived. These few multiplied and
spread along the shore of the planet’s only continent, eating into the living
rock even as the surf washed relentlessly over their habitat. They would be left alone to adapt and
developed for billions of years and they would evolve. Eventually, after a nearly unimaginable
length of time, a rich variety of living things would populate land and
sea. One day, long after the single
continent had split into seven, the target planet would be known to its
inhabitants as the Earth.