Earth, Houston, Space Cooperative

“She’ll see you now.”

“Thank you.”

The Captain left a waiting room filled with officials, officers of various service branches, and members of the Cooperative.

The office was in a state of ordered chaos. It was being redecorated at the behest of its new occupant, the new copresident for the Houston HQ and branch of the Cooperative.

“Captain.”

“Madame President.”

“I send you with a note and you go all the way up the well to Luna, looking for the store’s missing books.”

“And found a quite bit more. Congratulations, Robin. Quite the promotion.”

“I have you to thank for it, I suppose, Edward. Lots to do. Instead of answers, I’m left with even more questions.”

“I heard they reinstated the old head of Wellington.”

“Good timing too, the last guy who sat in this chair was about to have him disappeared. My god.”

“I’m glad. I thought when I said goodbye to him, that was it. He seems like a good man.”

“And he is, I need that. We need that.”

“And Necker? I heard he was in a ultramax.”

“It’s for his own safety. He’s no angel but he’s cooperating. Everyone is either scared to be around one of the Cooperative’s skeletons in its big closet, or wants him dead.

But he’s trying, and he’s working with us on building up the backup ledger that was put in place. Not perfect but for now, maybe we can maintain management of the Atlanticcoin.

More important, thanks to him and you, we’re cleaning house.”

“Good. How is your sister?”

“We sent a message in a probe to Mars a while ago, to reestablish contact and salvage relations with the outposts. It’s one day at a time.”

“I’m glad. I’m happy to see you, Robin, but is there another reason you wanted to see me?”

“That ship.”

“I don’t know. I thought I could seize it but it’s gone.”

“You sure about that?”

The Captain shrugged.

“Necker is silent on the subject. I thought I might get your help.”

“He was tight-lipped with me too. I went up to get the books, I ended up with the bookmaker.”

Robin Tagore, the new coopresident, for the Houston branch of the Cooperative, leaned against the back of her office chair, propping her elbows on the top of the chair’s back.

The Captain smiled and kept his eyes locked with Robin.

After a pause, “Okay. Then that’s it. Dinner with you this week, while you’re in town?”

“That would be nice, I may take a long vacation. I’m thinking of retiring too.”

“Really, where?”

“Up there,” said the Captain as he nodded at a wall holo of the moon, “I’ve got friends there.”

“You’ve got friends down here too, Edward.”

“I know and I’m grateful.”

The Captain smiled.

An aide walked in, “Pardon the interruption, they’re starting to pile up out here.”

“Okay, thanks Wally,” Robin shrugged, raised her hands up in mock resignation, and went over to hug Lawrence.

“It was good to see you, Edward.”

“Same here, Robin. Congratulations again.”

Outside of the SC Tower, The Captain took in a deep breath of air, held it, looked up, and saw the moon.

He looked at the twinkles that were still in the night sky. One of those lights in the night sky was on a one way trip to the future, the first one.

The End

Hyperion Hanger Bay

“Deck clear, Prepare for takeoff.”

“Fuel pressure, check.”

“Nav, check.”

“Environmental, check.”

“You are green across the board, Go.”

“Taking off.”

“We’ve got the fuel, plotting a course with a burn. We have to catch up.”

“What are we going to do when we get there? Destroy it?”

“I know what to do. At least I think I know what to do.”

The heavier G made Alberto and Zephyr groan a little. They had only just been restored by the Pygmalion’s surgical recoveries.

“You two, you okay??” The Captain was focused on his panels. He had trained for acceleration but it still didn’t make it easier.

They each gave small nods.

PROXIMITY ALERT - APPROACHING THE HARVEST said the panels.

“Okay, good news. Closing in. What now?”

“I’m going to connect with ‘the Harvest’.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, I just do, I just know. I remember.”

HEAT AND ELECTROMAGNETIC SIGNATURES INCREASING said the panels.

“Turn on comms, I’m going to talk with the Harvest…. It’s me.”

“UNCONFIRMED I.D. VERIFY PLEASE. WHO ARE YOU?”

“It’s me, It’s us.”

“REQUEST VERIFICATION. MEMORY RECALL.”

The Captain looked over at Alberto. “What’s that??”

“It wants me to prove that I’m me. When I was dying a part of me was in the ship when it was reset and launched. It will know what I know, my memories.”

WARNING COUNTERMEASURES DETECTED, TARGETING LIDAR.

“Hurry up, it’s going to do something to us.”

Alberto took in a deep breath.

“Mom’s name is Grace Wangu Necker. She met father at the Cooperative. Maman told me a story about how they met.”

“WARNING MISSILE ARRAY TARGETING DETECTED”

“Alberto…,” Necker reached over to his panels, looking for something to shoot at the Harvest.

“Maman wasn’t interested at first but she said what got her was father took her on a tour through a place she grew up in, a forest. She used to explore and play in it, and learned about all the living things there. It was beautiful day. Much later on, father brought her there, and proposed to her but it was cloudy and when the rain started, he got on his knees and promised her if she said yes, he would find a way to part the clouds, and give her the sun…”

“WARNING MISSILE ARRAY LIDAR ACTIVE TARGETING DETECTED”

The Captain began flicking on a weapons panel.

“… and She said ‘yes’. She said she would have said ‘yes’ even if rained a thousand years.

When Maman was sick, father did everything he could. That’s when I, when we, tried to do the right thing. We tested the Pygmalion chamber to upload my memories, and my code, everything about me. Maybe we could save mom. It didn’t work out that way. By the time father stabilized our pattern, we lost Maman. Father thought about killing himself but he stopped and saved me, saved us. I’m here, you’re in the ship.

We tried to test the Tanglement. We hurt a lot of people, many are dead, like Maman, gone.

You have to stop. We have to go. Maman would want us to stop.”

“MISSILE ARRAY LIDAR DEACTIVATED. NO TARGETING.”

The Captain exhaled.

“I think it worked, you talked it, you talked ‘yourself’ out of it.”

“We can dock.”

The panels pinged green.

They prepared for matching flight trajectories for docking.

They headed back to Hyperion.

“Hyperion, this is Lawrence, we’re coming back.”

Luna, South Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, The Grace, Pygmalion

Necker stood up and began to walk to the Deck.

“I’m going to burn the files and destroy it all. It will be as if it never happened.

Someday someone else will rediscover all of this. Someone better.

Until then, let them discover the worlds they already have and one sun, that will be more than enough for a long time.

There is plenty left over to explore. You and Zephyr.”

Alberto looked at Necker. Necker smiled, his eyes didn’t look so wild, they looked happy, tired but content.

Alberto looked over at Zephyr.

She smiled, “I told you I had more work ahead, another masterpiece.”

Necker looked over at the Captain, “You have your answer, Captain, not the one you thought you were looking for but it answers the right questions.”

“A lot of people, Mr. Necker, a lot of people died because of you. You sacrificed many lives because you couldn’t live with being a human like the rest of us. You couldn’t bear the heartache so you broke so many others. You have a lot to answer for.”

“I will. I do have much to answer for. The cooperative was complicit. They committed a billion sins of omission for greed, whereas I did it for love. But they were still all sins.”

“You will be taken back down the well to answer for your crimes. This place has to go under administrative control.”

“I’m going with you, you have no resistance. I got part of what I wanted. My son is alive.

Everything else is lost. This place will not fall in anybody’s hands…,” Necker raised a hand to silence the Captain’s objections.

“… No, that I will not permit. Let’s not pretend, that was going to happen the moment someone takes over. You’re a good man, Captain, I see that. You came for my son, whether you knew it or not. Well, you’re not getting my son.

You’re getting me. I will return with you and testify, not only about me, but about others in the Cooperative. It looks like your friend in Houston might be promoted, again, to a much higher job.”

“Robin?”

“Yes, my son has explained what was doing. Brilliant and unexpected. Like his mother…,”

Necker, shook his head but he was not angry, he looked at his son with pride.

“I was too slow to recognize it but my son was truly Grace’s in the ways that counted most. They’ll try to do it again. The Cooperative, under Houston. And then how many more people will be killed, Captain?”

The lights began to change, the alerts began to sound.

“Necker, we have control of the reactors.” asked the Captain.

“It’s not the reactors. There were charges set in place by security, not for my sake. It was the Cooperative’s last pathetic attempt to control me. I broke through their encryption and turned them off. Don’t bother asking me to turn it off, it can’t be. We have an hour, don’t waste it looking for the charges.”

“ATTENTION, PLEASE BEGIN EVACUATION PROTOCOL. ONE HOUR COUNTDOWN” said the base.

“Tommy, begin evac.”

“Copy that. Attention all teams, report for evac. Escort remaining personnel to the hangers. We’re taking every ship and rover left.”

“Let’s go Zephyr, we have to help with the evacuation. We can use “the Harvest”.”

“Alberto, I want that ship after we’re done.,” said the Captain.

Alberto said nothing as he hurried out to help with the evacuation. Necker smiled.

“Last one Cap. Last ride to Armstrong. All aboard!”

Tomassina yelled from the shuttle hatch.

Moments after launching, Necker looked down through the sun-filtered port, to see the dust trail of the last of the rovers leaving.

Bright flashes and dust plumes erupted around Hyperion.

“Goodbye, Love.” Said Necker. He held his head down. The forest was sealed away for good.

Luna, Armstrong

“Single file everyone, that’s it, go to those lines, someone will be there to help you get food, water, and shelter.”

Necker stepped out of the shuttle. He saw Tomassina talking with TwoTwo.

“Cap, welcome back. I can’t believe it, you brought back Necker himself. He’s for real.”

“TwoTwo, thanks. Any problems?”

“No, Cap. After we evac’d from Grissom, we reached Armstrong. No problem. There was a little welcoming committee, the last of Hyperion’s muscle but they gave up, guess they heard about Grissom caving in …”

TwoTwo smiled, Necker gripped him on the shoulder in thanks.

“But we got them back all safe. Aleksander was waiting for us, waiting for his family.”

The Administrator walked over. He extended his hand to Necker.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Necker, I can’t believe it.”

“He’s cooperating.”

“And.. The reason you came up here?”

“The ledger?”

“Did you find the contract and download him?”

“I found a person…” said Necker while Alekesander looked confused, “and he should be here somewhere. In that ship, the Harvest.”

“That ship?? It dropped off passengers, from Hyperion…”

“Yes, we had to leave Shackleton in a hurry, and he used the ship to help … I told him, I wanted that ship. I have Necker, but I also need to take custody of…”

“That’s just it, it dropped off those people… and then took off…”

The Captain walked back to the ship he evacuated on, where Necker was sitting on a crate, smiling.

“Where is he?”

“He’s not coming back.”

“What do you mean he’s not…?”

“I mean, he and Zephyr aren’t coming back. They’re taking that ship and leaving.”

“Where?”

Necker looked up, “Out there. They’re not coming back, Captain. They don’t belong here. My son is going to find a future for himself and that girl, out there. When the human race is ready, we’ll join them someday. But not today. We’re not ready.”

The Captain put his hands on his sides of his hips, looked down at his boots, and then up.

“Until then.”

TwoTwo, Tomassina, and Aleksander stared at them.

“Aleksander, after we’ve taken care of all these people, I need a ride back down the well, for two. Come on, Necker, until our ride is ready, let’s make ourselves useful….”

AI lexica art prompt portrait of a gorgeous young woman trapped in a transparent dome, bubble, intricate, headshot, highly detailed, digital painting, artstation, concept art, sharp focus, cinematic lighting, illustration, art by artgerm and greg rutkowski, alphonse mucha, cgsociety

Inside “The Harvest”, Hyperion Research Vessel, Systemwide Transformation

They walked down a corridor which glowed in front of them, while it dimmed dark behind .

Another portal opened.

The Captain walked through first, then Tomassina, and the rest of the team.

“Welcome.”

They were inside a long oblong chamber with a long table taking the length of two-thirds of the chamber. A man was sitting at the end of the table, an array of holos rose from the table like a field of glowing wild mushrooms. Moments of a life, memories of a family. Necker.

“Come, please have a seat. I’m unarmed.”

“Mr. Necker, or is it Dr. Necker?…”

“Oh, please just Albert or Necker, if you prefer…”

“I’ve come to take you with us. Your son…”

“My boy? I heard your message, what have you done to him?”

“It’s what you’ve done. All of this, is because of you, because of this… thing.”

“You don’t understand, how could you? What I’m doing will give everyone a second chance…”

“Before or after you’ve killed them first? After you’ve killed everyone? Let’s go, get up… Your son needs you.”

The Captain, grabbing a Necker’s arm, pulls him up from the chair.

“And just how many did you end up killing, sir, what was your name by the way?”

“Edward. Edward Lawrence.”

“Ah, you must have been the one who caved in Grissom and killed all those civilians.”

“No, just your hired muscle. Most of them are under the rubble.”

“Hero, fool. Those civilians would have been held in custody, here or at Armstrong.”

“That’s not what happened to some of them.”

“What … what are you talking about??”

“Your men, have been killing some scared people, scared of you, of this, of what you were about to do…”

“Lies, I ordered no killings. I’ve never ordered it.”

“And so far, you’ve failed, Necker. How many here after the test? How many on Earth, on Mars, when your science project pissed off the Sun?? Enough of this garbage, you’re going to save one life, let’s start with your son.”

As the Captain pulls Necker away from the table, Necker leans over the table and swipes at the holos. The glowing holo forest of memories flickers, and then the chamber’s lights dim.

“What was that??”

“I wanted to reset her, “the Harvest”. Now let’s see what you did to my boy.”

“Turn… it…. Off…”

“Too late, anyway, I need my boy to be alive and well, because the Harvest is connected to him. You didn’t know that did you? We’re about to take off, you want to stay on board?”

The background hum of the Harvest began as a low hum.

“Let’s go everyone, move, move.”

The team, with Necker, rushes through the ship towards the exit.

“Put this suit on.”

The Captain taps his comms on, “proceeding to the tram, to the Grace… clear a path.”

“Copy that.”

—

In the tram, Tomassina pulls the Lawrence aside.

“Cap, I heard that crazy old man. The kid’s connected to this thing. Maybe, maybe it’s not a good thing to save him. If he goes, maybe the Harvest dies too.”

“I don’t know. Plus down the well, he’s been gone too long, the Coop used a bad copy of him, and they’ve been cleaning up their mess with it, running a half-sentient ledger. The world is going to go at the seams.”

“World could go up in flames if we save the kid. We have no idea if he wants to help Necker. Necker is his dad, right? Maybe he goes ahead with another test of that ship.”

“Something doesn’t add up here. If we let him die, we don’t know what the ship will do. If we save him, may get a chance to turn this thing off, or blow it up. And maybe we keep the world from going broke, breaking and going down the tubes.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing, letting that happen, Cap. Why do you think so many of us went up the well?”

The Captain knew Tomassina long enough that she wasn’t serious.

Necker was lost in thought, he leaned forwards in his seat, and pointed at the view.

“Look at all this, all of this, what we did already. The Grace.”

The Captain looked over, “Your wife… she was named Grace. This was named after her.”

“Far more than named. That was … after, after she died. She designed the early phases of this. She was… brilliant. Beautiful. Just like this place. All I did was find the energy, of the sun. It wasn’t enough.”

“The Harvest?”

“Yes, you begin to understand. The ‘Harvest’, short for Hyperion Research Vessel, Systemwide Transformation. It wasn’t enough, we could sip from the sun, through solar arrays. We could mimic the sun in nuclear reactors. But what if we could take what we needed to do much more?

That’s what this place was for. It was called Hyperion for the sun.

And this forest was called ‘The Grace’ for her.

I named it after I saw it was too late to save her.

But it wasn’t too late to save my boy. Our boy. Grace was so happy after she had him.”

“Your son? You mean you didn’t use a contract, he wasn’t from you? I thought…”

“That I was his, what’s that disgusting phrase, ‘Carbon Model’? Yes, I was, when I had to save my boy. You see, Albert was genius too, I say he got it from his mother, and he insisted on pushing development of the Tanglement.

That’s what we called the power to take from the sun, the Tanglement.”

“You used that ship as a shovel to scoop energy from the sun.”

“No, no. That’s how I know no-one gets it. Yes, it does, as you say “scoop” energy, but takes energy from a source, like the sun, and then transfers it, almost like this tram, through an entanglement, to another place, like here, this forest.

No clumsy ships filled with fuel, in rolling, tumbling Caravans.

You build enough places, you can use the Tanglement to transfer energy from here to there,

First energy between the Sun and Hyperion, and then, everywhere.”

“Something went wrong with your science experiment didn’t it doc?,” asked Tomassina.

“This is a part of the process. This is progress.”

“At whose expense, doc?”

“That should not have happened. I don’t know what happened and why. Anyway, here’s the other part of all of this. Those tinker toys of the Verse, we can use the Tanglement to do far more, we can harvest the energy of information.

We can to use your word, scoop it up, and save it. From people, the energy of their minds.

Can you imagine what happens?

We’ve been making dolls made of light on the Verse, these contracts can be so much more.

Now we can do more than put people into the Verse. We can transfer contracts out as people.”

“The girl… that girl….”

“Yesss, yes, you begin to understand. If only the Cooperative had been in fact cooperative, I could have done more, faster, with more resources.”

“Necker, how did your son die?”

“He was testing the equipment. You see, Grace was dying. He wanted to save her, so he tested the equipment on himself. Something happened.”

“The test killed him.”

“The test also saved him, as a contract. I did my best, and I got help. I begged for help. I got it from the head of Houston HQ.”

“Houston. He was behind all this…”

“No, he’s just playing his board game on Earth, for the Cooperative. I made a trade, in exchange for what I needed, I saved my boy. I bought time. But in exchange for using him as the Sentient Ledger.

Nobody was told, everyone thought “ALBERT-O” was a name for the Cooperative’s latest venture, as the manager for the Atlanticcoin. Houston got the franchise of the Atlanticcoin, and I got to keep my boy alive, supported by the Cooperative’s resources.

In exchange, I could keep working and finished ‘The Grace’ and work on the ‘Harvest’. I salvaged my boy’s memories. I hoped to bring him back when it was all done.

When the Pygmalion was finished, I knew I could bring my boy back, all of him, into a body.

As the Ledger he was also connected to ‘the Harvest’. It’s a part of him, and he’s a part of it.

One more test, that’s all.”

“Pygmalion? The girl mentioned waking up in some room… is that how you made them?”

“That is a part of ‘the Grace’, and it, like everything, is powered by this place and by the Tanglement. When it was completed, I began the first trial run of ‘the Harvest’ to get all the power I needed to begin the next phase.”

“Next phase? You’ve killed a lot of people for your ‘next phase’, just what more do you want to do, kill everyone you missed??”

Tomassina got up, the Captain touched her arm to keep her from reaching over to Necker.

“No, I used it to power the Pygmalion, the fruition of my wife’s vision, her designs, to create life in a new way. It was too late to do this for her. I used it to save my son, when he died testing it on himself first. He was brought back to life. And it turned out he had company and we created the first flesh and blood person who began as a contract on the Verse.”

“The girl.”

“Yes, the girl.”

“Well, you’re about to lose them both Necker if you don’t find a way to use this room the girl mentioned.”

—

Inside The Grace, Inside a Cathedral on the Moon, the Crypt of Memory, “MER~MARE”

“This way, inside this place, my wife sleeps in her eternal rest, in the middle of this beautiful forest, that she helped create.

It’s also houses the ultimate potential of The Tanglement, the Pygmalion.”

“This was where you brought back your son, and where the girl was created?”

“Born, not created, Captain. Don’t you see? In this place where some sleep forever, others have been awakened?”

Tommy and the team looked around, and above them. They looked away from Necker, whose eyes had a farway, frightening look. He didn’t see them, they were nothing to him.

“We don’t have a lot of time, Necker.”

“Where is my boy?”

Ahead of them, a medic team was tending to Alberto and Zephyr, in the middle of the main room of the structure.

Necker rushed ahead. The Captain held back the others. Necker wasn’t running away, he was running to his son.

“Get off him, get off him. Son.,” Necker’s eyes came back, he turned to the others, “This way, come, come.”

They walked down the stairs into the darker reaches of the structure.

“Here.”

Necker was standing in front of his wife’s final resting place. He pressed his hands on the metal plaques, first his wife’s, over the words “Forever”, and then his Alberto’s original resting place, over the words, “Destiny Denied”. The wall behind them opened without a sound. A bright lit tunnel ahead.

In a few minutes, they were inside a giant dome, with a circular platform.

“NECKER. PYGMALION CHAMBER. WAITING” said the room.

“Begin the nascence.”

“SEQUENCE BEGINNING.”

“Two forms. Harvest energy.”

“HARVEST BEGINNING.”

Necker directed the medics to put Alberto and Zephyr’s bodies.

“Retrieve backups.”

“ERROR. CACHE FRAGMENTED.”

Necker stumbled back a little.

“No, no, no.”

The Captain stepped forward, “What’s happened? What does that …?”

“What does that mean? Something happened on the upload, what’s here is here. No failover, we have to save his body, or we lose him. Her too. We lose them both. No time for diagnostics.

PYGMALION, EMERGENCY RESTORATION. SURGICAL.”

“EMERGENCY RESTORATION BEGINNING.”

—

Hours passed. It all felt much longer than it was. Necker sat next in a chair between Alberto and Zephyr, and waited and watch. Then he heard a rustling and heavier breathing.

Necker shot up from his chair, rechecked Alberto’s and Zephyr’s vitals. Necker touched Alberto’s forehead, then squeezed one of Zephyr’s hands, and nodded with a small smile. “Welcome back, boy. You too, my dear.”

Necker looked up at the dome of the Pygmalion chamber, at its patterns. He spoke to no-one in particular.

"What if you replaced a body part and then another, how soon before you disappear?

How long before you realize what makes you uniquely, truly, you is more than the raw sum of your parts swapped in and out."

Necker looked at Zephyr,

“Everyone wants to render physical into virtual,

Since the first cave, when we painted on our first walls,

eons fooling ourselves, an eternity chasing reality in shadows,

We’re still in caves, what happens when we leave them?

What happens when we turn the virtual into the physical?

Out of the corner of our mind’s eye, do we catch a glimmer from the minds of God?”

Necker looked up at the ceiling of the Cathedral and sighed.

“You can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“It’s too early for the world.”

“You were too early too.”, said Zephyr.

Necker sat down, hunched over.

“I did this for you, because I wasn’t there for you when I should have been. I lost you and your mother. I almost lost you again, boy. Here is your chance you didn’t get before.”

“What will you do?” Zephyr sat next to Necker.

For the first time, she saw him for who he was. An old man who realized what he lost too late. She stopped being afraid of him.

“They’re all coming. In a few days, they’re coming up here. Word will get out, that I’m the cause. And it’s true. The only thing left is the both of you. You have to hide. I can’t hold them back. I can’t seal off the Forest, I wish I could. You have to go but first, we have to do the right thing, boy. I need your help.”

Necker had no anger, no resentment, just recognition and resignation.

“Cap.” The Captain’s earbud pinged.

“Yes, go ahead.”

“That ship, it’s headed on a course down the well.”

“Down the… Earth?”

“Looks like it.”

“Okay, continue tracking and update me.”

“Copy that.”

The Captain turned to Necker and grabbed him by a shoulder.

“Necker, your ship, ‘the Harvest’, where’s it going??”

“I don’t know, it’s not supposed to do that.”

“What do you…?”

“Cap, they’re awake. He’s asking for you…”

The Captain ran into the Pygmalion.

Alberto and Zephyr were awake, drowsy, slow but alive.

“We have to stop it.”

“What do you mean? Stop what? The ship??”

“Yes. The ship is a part of me, I’m a part of it but it’s not listening.”

“Your father mentioned this ‘Tanglement’, it’s not just the sun’s energy is it?”

“The Tanglement is entanglement, connection. Father built it to gather and transport energy but that included information too. Memory, minds.”

“That ship is you, it’s going home, Earth.”

“It wasn’t supposed to do that but I was…”

“Unconscious… you were unconscious but I reset it…,” said Necker, “It was disconnected from you and now, it is doing what a part of you wants to do. Go home.”

“He’s right. We have to stop it. If it gets close enough it could restart a Tanglement and,” Alberto tailed off and looked at everyone, “it could trigger another CME from the Sun.”

The Captain tapped into comms, “I need a ship.”

“We got one still on the deck, after taking the Hanger, some stray rounds hit but …”

“Never mind, I’m coming. Tommy watch Necker.”

“Cap, I can…”

“No, Tommy, you stay and mind the store. When it’s over, check on TwoTwo and the people in Armstrong.”

“I’m coming with you” said Alberto.

“I’m going too,” said Zephyr as she helped Alberto up. He was about to say something but didn’t. He just nodded, offered her a hand to hold. They looked at the Captain.

The Captain saw the look on their faces, and nodded.

They went up the trail to the tram, towards the Hanger.

Luna, S. Aitken Basin, Shackleton, Hyperion, The Grace, Pygmalion Chamber

They made it down the stairs to the long curved promenade of the Solarium. Alberto was heavy in the Captain’s arms, even on Luna, but Zephyr helped.

“Where to? What do we have to do?”

Alberto, who could not hold his head up, was coughing blood but he wheezed, “Father, you have to get him.”

The Captain looked at Zephyr, who answered, “Necker.”

“God.”

Alberto lifted his head a fraction, and nodded.

“God. How the hell are we…? I’m looking for the bastard…”

“…the ship…”

“Okay, Zephyr, let’s get him to this place … I have to find Necker.”

“You have to remind him why…” said Alberto before passing out.

“Damn it, he really is human or close enough…”

“The room, the place we woke up in, it’s in there. I remember.” Said the girl.

“Okay.”

They made their way forward.

The lights flickered on.

“Solar backups…”

“Cap…” Tomassina pinged him on his earbud. “Yes, lights coming on, I know…”

“At least we have power for this… we’re taking this?”

“Yes, the same one we just used… into the forest.”

“Forest?? Two, Three, tell the medics to meet us at the Solarium Level, in the tram.”

The captain and Zephyr carried Alberto into a tram.

Alberto thought he was awake, he wasn’t bleeding, everything hurt. He wasn’t awake.

Alberto remembered his father and mother from before he died, when he was a boy.

It was all out of order, like a shuffled deck that kept reshuffling.

The one thing that kept the deck from flying apart, after being broken apart and hidden in the Verse and found again and stacked together on the Moon, was the feeling.

The things people do out of love, what happens when it's taken, when they lose it, when they become capable of anything to get it back, and what things they have done for love.

He was back in the studio in Miami-Marseilles or was he?

Zephyr was standing in front of him, shifting hair colors, wearing dark prisms of slate blue and charcoal black camouflage.

Zephyr asked him, “It’s not fair, no, not just molded from a carbon model, born too? And me? who was my carbon model?”

“Reclaimed from the Conservancy. My mom’s recipe. She cooked up a reliquary, a storehouse of whoever passed, memories reclaimed from a warehouse.

Early on, easy bake Verse, my mom the baker, everybody’s maker. Functionality. Every world needs beauty. She insisted.”

Then someone spoke, “You were carbon modeled after an artist, chosen by the Conservancy’s mysterious contract. It generated you from a human, who passed on, but you are so much more. As are you, son.”

We all must have a why, you know.”

Necker looked up at the ceiling of the studio, which changed into a great dome held up by an eight-walled ring of matte black rock with inlays of moonrock and alloy. Its ceiling was a montage of stars, ships, and worlds.

Necker, who looked like a young man, looked at them, smiled and said, “Grace, Forever.”

“We’ve got him stabilized Captain.”

“Good. Stay with him, I’m going after Necker.”

“Tommy?”

“Cap?”

“Necker is headed to the hanger. We got solar, can you give me intercom?”

“We can move in before he takes the ship.”

“Put me on the intercom, I got a reason for him to come back.”

“Copy that.” “You’re on intercom.”

“Necker? Necker, if you can hear me, listen, your son’s here. He’s not coming with you. He needs you, he’s been hurt. Do you hear me? You son needs you.”

“Captain?!,” shouted the medic, “her bandage wasn’t enough. I don’t understand.”

“They’re not ordinary. Go, I’ll meet you there.”

The Tram begins its trip into Shackleton.

“Tommy, coming to the hanger. Lock it down.”

“Copy that.”

Luna, S. Aitken Basin, Shackleton, Hyperion, The Landing Fields, Main Hanger

“Suits. I know we took out of most of them but I also thought I had him in the tower.”

“Copy that. Suit and seals everyone. What happened up there, Cap?”

The Captain shook his head, “Necker’s got a kid bleeding out, a girl too.”

“I remember something about something that happened down the well, his family.”

“Well, let’s just say Necker’s myths are closer to the truth.” The Captain didn’t bother getting into the details about Alberto and Zephyr.

Tomassina shrugged and went down the line and checked the team was ready for vacuum.

“We cleared the ground crews and specialists. But he’s got muscle on the deck.”

“In formation, take them out.”

“Why don’t we set charges and be done with it?”

“No, I need him.”

“The kid?”

“Yeah. But no matter what, can’t let him use that ship, this place, again. Three??”

“Three standing by.”

“If we don’t make it back in time, set off the charges. Overload.”

“… Copy that.”

“All teams ready, Cap.”

“Move in.”

Necker’s last men were better than expected. But not as good as the Captain’s team.

“That was the last of them.”

“Set charges, breach that hatch.”

Before they could set the charges on the “Harvest”, a rear loading hatch opened.

Everyone looked at each other.

“I guess, he’s giving up or…”

“Tommy, hang back, in case…”

“No Cap, can’t let you go in there alone. Besides, we got a man with a rocket launcher in case Necker gets ideas.”

They walked into “the Harvest”.

Inside “The Harvest”, Hyperion Research Vessel, Systemwide Transformation

They made it into the anteroom, the hatch sealed, the chamber pressurized.

Their suits blinked green. Air.

Then a voice:

“I’m almost flattered you all came, up the well to see me.

I can see it all over you, You’re “Langley”. And you, you’re “Quantico”. “You’re Special Forces.”

In the end, you’re all “The Cooperative”, pawns in its service.

For thousands of years, we bathed in moonlight at night, reached for what was untouchable. Our karma was bondage to one world.

One day, we harnessed new powers. Chariots made for the dark were flown to our object of desire. Our desire made a bonfire of our karma. What did it profit us? The first landing, the first footsteps, the first outpost.

The Cooperative began on Luna.

The first and richest province of the Space Cooperative. They deny it but that’s what this place is, in the eyes of an entity that saw the future like a State. Burning karma for an empire.

I’ve been under exile, house arrest.

They don’t call it that. I don’t have the beach view like the former head of Wellington HQ, for his clever defiance, or avoid being put to pasture like the head of Houston HQ, who, despite his gamesmanship, is a lost boy.

It was always here, answers to all your questions.

Long before Earth and Mars were lit up by the worst solar storm in eons, before a hurricane washed away Heavyville, Texas, and a sentient ledger disappeared and robbed the world of its financial memory.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m just a moral man seeking relief.”

A portal opened, dim light grew brighter. They walked through it.

AI Lexica Art Prompt symmetry!! portrait of a astronaut, midsommar style, intricate, elegant, highly detailed, digital painting, artstation, concept art, smooth, sharp focus, illustration, art by artgerm and greg rutkowski and alphonse mucha, 8 k

The Earth orbits the sun, moon orbits the Earth, in an ancient gravitational waltz.

Sometimes they blot out the sunlight for the other.

During their never ending dance, there are times when the moon is between the sun and the Earth. Moon-shadow blocks sunlight and a lunar eclipse leaves days darker.

In ancient Mesopotamia, they planted a pretender on the throne in advance of eclipses. While they could calculate the movements of celestial bodies, they could not fathom their purpose and were afraid of what the dark would bring to their kings.

After each shadow’s passing, the true king would be returned on the throne.

Sometimes, it’s the Earth blocking sunlight from reaching the moon, surrendering an evening sky to the stars for a night.

Earth’s daylight from dawn to dusk is refracted through its shell of air.

The only light comes from the Earth, filtered through the prism of its atmosphere. The blue part of the light is frittered away, the part of the light with longer wave lengths, the yellow and orange come through, but red light shines on the moon.

The red sunset is the sun’s light passing through a wider slice of the atmosphere, and if the air is thickened with cloud and dust, the light grows redder still.

That same light passing the gauntlet of Earth’s atmosphere is shining on the moon.

The moon’s blood eclipse is the color of the end of a day, the light of a sunset.

LUNA, S. AITKEN BASIN, SHACKLETON CRATER, HYPERION, LOADING BAY

LAST STOP, PLEASE BEGIN OFFLOAD AND REPORT TO DUTY STATIONS

The captain gave everyone a nod. One by one everyone left the train.

The three teams scattered to their assigned positions.

He tapped his thumb twice with his pinky to listen on his bud, while he adjusted the fit of the uniform, and pulled his hood on. The team chatter streamed in his ear.

“Set your watches for the landing field and control tower.”

“One, we’re headed to landing field.”

“Copy that. Two, headed for debrief at control tower. We’re wearing colors but we need badges.”

“This is Three. We found the duty roster, we’ll log that you lost badges running for cover at Grissom. You’re set, new ones. Headed for the reactors and batteries.”

“Got rumors flowing, Aleksander had friends before he was transferred to Armstrong.”

“Failover from offline reactors to solar is less than 15 minutes. Assuming Necker still has friends in Houston, if he’s desperate he might call for help.”

“We’ve got comms at the tower.”

“Even if they manage an S.O.S., it would take them three, four days, that’s when it was clockwork. Everything’s a mess down the well. Cap, I double-checked the calendar.”

“See what I mean?”

“That’s when the Harvest is landing.”

“Eclipse.”

“We’re at the landing field. A bit of luck, the crew chief is a friend of Aleksander.”

“We got the reactor control room, the on-calls tied up in a closet. Logging in for controlled shutdown. Setting cutoff switch for the battery rooms.”

“We’re in the control tower… I think we’re lucky too. He’s here. Standby.”

Luna, Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, Control Tower

On the screens, the edges of a bright pixelated blob was sharpening, its resolution increasing, its white, golden bronze metallic contours glittering in a black background, the flare of reflected sunlight rippled across its form. Murmurs of work talk grew louder. The ship, designated Hyperion Research Vessel, Systemwide Transformation, was on approach.

“What do you mean, …?”

“I mean Necker, that's him at the other end of the room, this is our chance to …”

“Hang on, skeleton crew, we didn’t bury all their security at Grissom …”

“The ones by the entrance…”

“Yeah, and, hold on, who’s he talking to…?”

“A young man and a woman… don’t remember them…”

“Ready to kill the power….”

“The ones by the door …”

“Two and Three, same goes for the landing field and the reactors…”

“Copy that.”

“Copy that.”

“On my mark, kill the power…”

The lights went out and the Captain went straight for the security by the doors.

Flashes of light from discharged weapons preceded the acrid smell of burnt flesh and blood and cries of pain were drowned out by alarms. In Luna’s gravity, havoc was messier and acrobatic. A stray round, one of several fired by the last of Hyperion’s panicked untested security flew through an unfortunate technician, smashing into the Captain’s chestplate, sending him into a cartwheel.

Struggling to suck in a breath

“Everyone??”

“Two here, we got the squad on the field. Everyone else is backing off, after I knocked someone on their ass.”

“Three, no problem on reactors. No luck on solar backup, it’s coming back up in fifteen, sorry Cap.”

The Captain kept his eyes on the room, as people ran or tried to help people hit by stray rounds. He strained to look for him. Where was Necker?

“He’s not here!” said the young woman who was standing next to Necker earlier. The young man was tending to the young man who was with him. She was bleeding but he was worse.

The Captain forced himself to walk over. His chest hurt. His chest-plate took the brunt of what felt like a sledgehammer. He grabbed the woman by one of her shoulders, she winced.

“Where?”

The wounded young man on the floor shook his head, and then locked eyes with him.

“He’s not here, Captain.”

“Who are you?”

“Do you still have it? The card?”

The Captain thought he meant the black card. Maybe Necker ran off to the ship. Then the Captain realized the young man meant the other card, the one he got on Earth, printed with an octagon on it. His eyes widened. He a feeling but he brushed it aside.

“Shisima” the Captain thought out loud, remembering his last talk with ‘Nairobi’, “My friend was the first piece, I was second, I told someone, the one I was looking for was the third.”

The young man nodded, “Captain Lawrence, Whoever said that was half-right but half wrong. You’re not looking for the third piece. I started this game.”

“You did all of this,? Who are you?”

“I was a ledger for the SC. I funded Hyperion. After what the ‘Harvest’ did, I had to…”

The young man cried out in pain. The captain dropped to his knees next to the young woman, who was trying to slow the bleeding in the young man’s wound. Up close with the both of them, the Captain felt a chill. He had a gut feeling about the two of them.

“Three, I need help, send a medic, we have wounded.”

“Copy that. You hit, Cap?”

“No, a young man took a round, might have hit an artery. You, you were the ledger?”

The young man looked away from the young woman, and nodded.

“Captain, he’ll take the ship.”

“You there, come over here. Here, press down here.” The Captain took one of her hands to show her where to apply pressure on the young man’s wound.

“We have to get him help.”

“A medic is coming.”

“No, I think he needs more than that.”

“Is this also why you’re bleeding like a human? The both of you??”

“He is human, and he… he’s more than that. He needs more than a medic. We have to bring him to where, we first woke up here.”

The Captain’s earpiece beeped.

“Cap, medic is on his way. It’s not easy, it’s a little crazy everywhere with the power off.”

“Copy that, we got wounded here. No resistance. Necker’s gone.”

“Where’s he headed?”

“He’s going for the ship but he’s going to make one stop before he leaves. I know him.”

“Cap, reactors and batteries locked down. We can head over to you.”

“No, the solar is about to kick on soon, meet me at the hanger.”

The Captain turned to the woman “where do we take him?”

“There’s a room, a chamber that I think will help.”

Medics showed up and began taking care of the wounded in the control room. They applied a pressure bandage to the young man, cleaned and dressed the woman’ injuries.

“Let’s go.”

The captain lifted up Alberto, blood covered his front.

“Bad idea, Cap, he could bleed out.”

“No time to explain, secure this floor, and then listen in in case I need you at the hanger.”

“Let’s go, miss, what’s your name?”

“Zephyr.”

“Edward, Edward Lawrence. Lead the way.”

They left the control room and headed for the airlock tram.

NOTES: AI Lexica Art prompt Nocturne, glowing, stars, a portrait of a beautiful female shadow djinn with jeweled collar, long hair, glowing eyes, highly detailed, mysterious, ethereal, dressed in velvet and gold jewelry, haute couture, illustration, dramatic lighting, painting, by Edmund Blair Leighton, Brom, Charlie Bowater, trending on artstation, faces by Tom Bagshaw, otto schmidt

Leaving behind the forest, in soft slow small bounding steps, they hiked up the trail.

They reached the end of the trail and waited for the next tram.

The sign of the station blinked a soft slow green, Grace Forest-Shackleton Solarium.

STATION VOICE: LEAVING THE GRACE, TO THE SOLARIUM

Zephyr turned and wanted to remember. She breathed in, held each breath, and exhaled. She listened to and looked at as much of the forest as she could.

“I hope we can come back but I understand if you never want to see it again ever.”

“It’s okay. Maybe we can come back if … the tram’s here.

I think he let us, let me come here, so that I would “come back”.

He might have expected that but I don’t know if he knows that I’m not going along with the rest of it.”

“You said we’ll do our best to stop him. It’s just the two of us, what can we do?”

“Now that I’ve come back, so to speak, I know he can’t do this without me. It was how he did the first test with the Harvest. I was the one who helped him build everything. We have to get into the operations center and control tower before the ship returns.”

The tram pulled in and the station hatch hissed open. READY FOR BOARDING.

Luna, South Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, Operations Center

“It’s true, we have had unforeseen losses but remember what we have now.

For all our shipwrecks and nightmares, we have shipbuilders and dreamers.

And now, something new that will make what we dream of next possible to build.

What happens when a society has access to unlimited energy?”

Everyone glanced or looked up from their work but no-one answered. Nobody answered when Necker spoke to everyone because they knew he wasn’t asking.

“The kind that takes us to Kardashev Level 2.

“I don’t mean just draw from the sun passively but harvest it to change entire worlds but progress takes time, and for the moment, we must learn from a minor accident.”

“You call a man-made solar storms that hit several worlds and a hurricane that washed away entire communities minor accidents?”

Necker nodded and raised his hands a little to pacify Alberto, “I’m sorry to remind you that’s what it costs.

And that cost began with coin, That's why the SC created and oversaw the Atlanticcoin, which funded R&D including the Verse,” as Necker glanced at Zephyr.

“the Verse, the greatest vessel of memory, for real memories. I thought it only fair that the people, who I helped make powerful, who cost me my family, my wife and child, stay out of the way. While I worked to restore you and bring you back to life, at first, I salvaged a part of you, a version of you, with me as a carbon model to stabilize your render, so that you could become the sentient ledger of the Cooperative."

“You're mad, absolutely mad,” said Alberto. It was very quiet in the room. Only Necker’s own flesh and blood would dare speak this way.

“No, just forward thinking.”

Necker smiled, “The devil always wins when making bets with your own bodies. And that’s what happened, son. You wanted to test it before trying to save your mother. Something went wrong, and I almost lost both of you but you’re back now.”

“I remember parts of it.” Alberto saw flickers of moments that belonged to someone else, who was him. The last frame was of Necker, looking a little younger, standing over him trying to comfort him with “it’s okay, boy, I’m here.”

Necker’s gaze hardened. “I remember. I remembered my final days down the well, in a meeting, in vivo, it was so important and too risky to do encrypted streams, and the things they said, including, ‘how can you call a bunch of lines your son?’

I told them, ‘how we package ourselves is one thing, but it’s not the only thing.’

I asked everyone in that room, ‘what must our creator think of us, were we just a bunch of "lines" in code, some ancient plan, to whoever, whatever made us?’

When they accused me of arrogance or worse, my answer was, what about the arrogance of deciding for someone else who is worthy of love, and who is not?”

“What about everyone who’s lost someone they loved. Unlike you, they don’t have the means to bring them back. They’re living in ruins, surrounded by everything you’re responsible, shipwrecks and nightmares, father. Where are their dreams?”

“If we stop now, it will be for nothing. What’s the matter with you? It wasn’t so long ago you were standing by my side, and helping me make all of this,” as Necker held his arms up and did a slow turn to point at everything around him, “all of this possible? The next generation will have a life so different, that it will make the sacrifices, these regrettable losses, justified. We have an obligation not to waste it.”

Alberto paused, he looked down, and calmed himself, then he looked up and gave his Necker a small smile, which lit him up. Necker a familiar smile. He missed his son. Alberto remembered that much, and thought of his mother and hoped that where ever her spirit fled to, that she forgave him for what he was about to do.

“Yes, father, you’re right. I’m just tired is all. Getting used to this body, and everything. So is Zephyr, we’re both doing our best.”

“Of course, son, of course.”

ATTENTION: PROTOTYPE ON APPROACH, PROCEEDING DOWNRANGE TO LANDING FIELD. ALL SPECIALISTS REPORT TO THEIR STATIONS.

The Harvest was coming home.

Luna, South Aitken Basin, On a train en route to Shackleton Crater, Hyperion

“APPROACHING SHACKLETON. HYPERION LOADING BAYS.” said the train.

“Tommy, everyone, suit up, we’re going to look like security and maintenance crews.”

“Copy that. They know Grissom’s been caved in. There will be questions. The LTSB.”

“They’re busy with the Harvest’s landing. Necker is focused on Harvest. He handed dealing with the civilians to the his security people, hired hands.

The ship we jacked was from Collins Field outside Armstrong, registered to a SC contractor. TwoTwo made sure the shipyard logs will show faulty maintenance by a Hyperion contractor. Necker’s people will make sure the LTSB becomes a rubber stamp.

They planned on rounding up the civilians but now they’re going to think they were all in Grissom.

There’s only token security in Shackleton, we boxed, buried most of them at Grissom.”“What about was left behind in Armstrong? Won’t they be heads up?”

“It’s the same, token forces, TwoTwo will take them out, after hiding the civilians.”

“So we’ll just look like some lucky survivors who hitched a ride on this supply train.”

“Right. Team One heads to landing crews for Harvest. The Team Two reports in to debrief at their control tower. We take the landing field and the control tower.

As rumors will start flowing through the rank and file about what happened to the civilians, many of whom they knew personally. Those civilians were the family of contractors who walked off or ran away from Hyperion. They’re not going to be happy, and that will distract Necker’s people, and not notice us, we’ll blend in.”

“How do you know word’s going to get around?”

“Because we’re going to start those rumors before we take the landing field and the control tower.”

“Necker could hole up somewhere in Hyperion, and hold us off. He might call Houston for help. He could have access to the Harvest and then we’re done.”

“We’ll take their reactors offline, and break their batteries. They’ll go to backups.”

“They’ll roll-over to solar backups. That’s almost constant daylight on it.”

“Check the calendar, Tommy. There’s an eclipse coming. That’s when we’ll take him.”

The captain turned to everyone, and said, “Others began this but we're going to stop it. We didn't ask for this responsibility but we accept because it's right. We decide."

“ARRIVING SHACKLETON, HYPERION LOADING BAYS. PREPARE TO DISEMBARK”

NOTES AI Lexica Art prompt realistic detailed face portrait of one sublime sexy heroine with few parts of alien like cyberpunk armor, minimal sleek design armor style, by moebius, alphonse mucha, ayami kojima, amano, greg hildebrandt, and mark brooks, feminine, sexy, female, seductive, art nouveau, cyberpunk, neo - gothic, gothic, character concept design, like megan fox

SAVE

CROSS-POST

Luna, Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, inside “The Grace”

Alberto and Zephyr paused at the rest-stop to pick up refreshments, before hiking back up the trail to the tram. He looked over at her, as they walked, she was very quiet and focused on the trail and the forest. Every so often, when she was on the verge of talking, she stopped. A couple of hours into the walk, she shook her head and spoke.

“It was you this whole time. You knew me well, the packet you dropped into my studio, which by the way I thought was hidden in an impossible to find chain, but just like that a drop right into the studio’s localserv. You just knew I couldn’t resist didn’t you?

I felt sorry for you, a stranger who didn’t know who he was. I felt like I had to help you. This whole time, I was just a piece in your game, this shisima game.”

Alberto looked at Zephyr, “It was not my intention to hurt you, I’m sorry. Yes, it was me. After I had my mind partitioned and scattered, I left a message for myself, in my apartments, where I knew my core would be. I told myself to run to your studio.”

“Why? Why me? What makes me so different that you brought me into this? I’m not the only autonomous artist on the Verse. How did I earn this privilege?”

“Your talent was to help me put back together what I had broken apart, my mind, but also help me keep it safe, out of the hands of those who wanted to use it, my father.

You’re not a monolithic contract, you’ve scattered yourself, as a partitioned artist, comfortable with taking apart, adding new things, like pieces of others as inspiration, and reassembling yourself through your art.”

“But even that is not enough to explain, why me? I’m not the only one.”

Alberto stopped on the trail. He walked over to a tree, he pressed a hand against it. He sat down, with his back against the tree.

“I know your work, it’s on the walls of my apartments. I know it. Many artists give what others what they ask for, what they think they want. You give them what they need before they ask.

As the Cooperative’s sentient ledger, my one weapon was to break apart my mind, to buy some time, but I needed help.

I also wanted these pieces of my mind kept safe with someone who could reassemble it, outside of the SC and my father’s influence, in case it was needed.

I know I didn’t ask you, but you’re the only one who can help a lot people.”

Zephyr stood in front of Alberto, her arms crossed in front. She did a slow pace back and forth, her eyes on the green around them but listening to him.

“And the others you’ve brought into this? They’re carbons?”

“Yes, I looked into my deep memory as the “ledger” for help.

Down the well, in one of the SC’s launch cities, Heavyville, Texas, was Robin Tagore.

As the “ledger”, she was an entry in my mind, a recruit who rose up the ranks of the SC. After seeing her in action, and looking deeper, I saw she was the person I needed.

Robin was also connected with someone else, a friend in the SC’s security services, a Captain, named Edward Lawrence. Based on what I “knew” as the “ledger”, I saw his psych profile and his service record. He had friends who emigrated to Luna.

I left them notes and cards, and let them follow the trail while I was gone.

Then, I began an escape plan, to someone who knew the Grey Verse,” Alberto nodded at Zephyr, “You. I made sure to forget who I was, so I couldn’t be found through my memories, and sent you that packet, and a note to myself to find you.

I wasn’t 100 percent sure but if I didn’t try, there was a 100% chance my father would go ahead with his plans, and more people would be hurt or killed. I had to try.”

Zephyr got up, and helped Alberto stand up. She brushed the aside the bits of forest from her clothes, and looked back on the part of the trail behind them.

“Back there, you didn’t know about that did you?” she asked, as she glanced in the general direction of the memorial, obscured by the forest.

“No, Until a few hours ago, I thought I was created, made by the SC. That my father was my carbon model. Not a copy but a mold, like all conscious contracts, with my own sense of self. I had no memory of my life, my real life as a carbon until then.

If it helps, and it probably doesn’t, I know I hurt you with all of this, you were intrigued as an artist because of my packet, because of me, but then you wanted to help someone who was lost, and it became more. I’m grateful.”

“Yes, it became more. You told me you you needed my help. I’m here. I’m still calling you Alberto, I was just getting used to that name.”

“Thank you.”

Drifting through the stillness there were the distant echoes of the forest’s living things. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then looked down at the trail floor.

Zephyr took in a deep breath, held it and exhaled. What a sensation. Alberto did likewise.

“I’m feeling, I don’t know scared and excited.”

“Me too. I don’t know if help is coming, so for now we have do our best on our own.”

NOTES AI Lexica Art Prompt photograph of a real-life beautiful assassin with intricate silver robes and daggers. Extremely detailed. 8k

Mnemosyne, last of the Titans, born of Gaia and Uranos, Earth mother and Sky father, was mother of the nine muses of the arts of memory, of epic tales, poetry, music and lyrics, hymns, dance, comedy, tragedy, astronomy, and history.

In the underworld, in Hades, she held court over the river Lethe, and the departed would drank from the river’s waters, stripping them memory of their past lives before they were reincarnated and returned reborn to the world of mortals.

Reciters of the Illiad and Odyssey invoked the power of her grace in the epics’ early lines, so that they could recount their tales in total.

Without memory, there is no story, and if there is no story, there can be no history.

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Luna, South Aitken Basin, Hyperion, inside “The Grace”

His breathing slowed.

He was on his knees in front of the crypt, his forehead and right hand pressing against the cool metal plaque, his left hand gripping the upper front edge of its matte finish.

She was crouched next to him on his left, her left hand was his chest, to help prop him up. She felt his heartbeat. Her right hand kneaded the back of his neck between her thumb and fingers. It seemed a thing to do but it was all new, having a body outside the Verse.

As he started to push himself up off and stand in front of the stone, she stood up too.

She moved her left hand to find out if she had a heartbeat too. This wasn’t like the Verse.

The whole time, she couldn’t describe it and her reflex was to connect and find ways to understand. Silence, aside from their movements and breathing. She was cut off from the Verse. She wasn’t multi-rendered in multi-instances in an unreal reality. She was here and now, only. This was real reality.

The palm of his hands were on top of the stone’s matte dark finish, Alberto took in a deep breath, held it a moment, exhaled. Then said, “I am responsible, I am accountable. I decide.”

He noticed something etched on the stone, and he ran the fingers of his right hand over the grooves. It was an octagon with 4 lines that cut over the points, the vertices of the octagon, forming 8 “slices”, and then 3 round dots in a row, cutting across the middle of the octagon.

“This was one of my mother’s games. We played games like this, we read, we were outdoors, the real outdoors of Earth. She told me stories.”

“This sign was a game?”

“Shisima. The source of water. The source.”

“You said you’re responsible. Accountable. And you said that you ‘decide’. Decide what?”

Turning to Zephyr, "You restored a part of me, my active working memory on the Verse as ‘Alberto’, serving as a sentient ledger of the SC.

I was a construct modeled on Albert Necker, my carbon model, made in a machine,” as he touched the crypt’s plaque, “but here was the first oldest part of me, the original, born. My mother, Grace.”

Zephyr, nudged past that tiny revulsion she had earlier but still shook her head a little. The man standing in front of her was alien to everything she knew about contracts and carbons.

“I’ve never seen this ever, never met anyone who was both made and born.

I knew there were contracts, who were written, based on carbon models. And contracts who created other contracts. There are registries, but most don’t know who their carbon models were. It was always based on the carbon world transcribed but not completely in the Verse. There were carbons who traveled through avat-faces but this, this….” She dropped her right hand from her chest and feeling her heart-beat, to point at the plaque on Alberto’s crypt.

Zephyr sat down on the long bench facing the crypts. Grace and her son, who was now alive and standing before her.

“Until a moment ago, before we walked into this room, I still thought I was in the Verse, or another one like it. Even when I met the man who you called father. So many questions. But right now, just tell me what do you mean by ‘responsible’? You still haven’t told me what you mean by that.”

Alberto sat down next to Zephyr but not too close, he understood she was scared.

He pressed a hand against the wood of the bench and tapped it, “This place is real. I had a mother and I was born. I was a carbon. And I died. Now, I’m sitting in this place, holding your hand because you’re here too,” as Albert gave a light squeeze to Zephyr’s hand, “with a body made by my father in this place, made of nanos and organics, a collection of who I was when I was born and who I became when I was made.”

“And what about me? Am I the same?” Zephyr asked as she squeezed Albert’s hand back too, “Was I born, made, and remade? Will it happen to me too, some moment that I’ll feel sick and I’ll someone I used to be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how many are out there, like me. I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe. But I do know one thing, now. I’m the one who made and sent you that packet, so that you could help me. I partitioned my mind. I made myself forget, so that when I left, they wouldn’t find me. I thought that by doing that, I could delay my father, what he was doing.”

“What is your father doing?”

“For years, he was working on something, something unimaginable. To pull energy from the Sun and send it anywhere. There are nuclear power plants and more powering everything, including the Verse. He wanted to take it to a whole new level.

He wanted to transform the system, including the Verse. The energy to do anything, everything. Transform every place in the System, whole worlds. For years, he prepared, in the quiet of the moon, to unleash the power of the gods.

Something went wrong, and that’s when I had had enough. They can’t go on, the SC, my father, without a sentient ledger to keep things running. That was my leverage.

I made a plan to break my mind into pieces and scatter myself in the Verse but leave a breadcrumb trail for me, you, and others who could help me stop my father. You would take me to “The Grey”, the Grey Verse, where no-one would find us for awhile.

I thought in case things went wrong I could transfer important memories to someone else for safe keeping”

“You mean me, that migration to me before we left Miami-Marseilles on the uplink.”

“I guessed wrong about how much time I had. When you and I were being chased, I didn’t know who from.”

“Did you know we were coming here?”

“No, I didn’t know that I was even a human, born, until now. It’s been buried for so long inside me. I just knew all that was left was the upload, all the way up the well to Luna, who I thought my carbon model was, my father. He’s going to do it again.”

“This octagon must have been important.” Zephyr looked again at the octagon on the crypt.

“Two players each begin with 3 pieces and they move them around, looking for a way to line them up, and take the middle, the center. I’ve been playing this game, it was there and now I remember how I knew it. My father’s work, that’s his game. Mine has been to stop him.”

“So, I was one of your pieces. I was just a piece in a game. That’s all this was. A game.”

Zephyr got up from the bench, and began to walk out of the room.

“You’re more than that. Yes, you were one of three. You weren’t just a piece in a game. None of you were. Without you, we can’t stop him.”

“Who are the other two pieces?”

“One is on Earth, keeping an eye on someone my father used for his plans. The other is on his way here, looking for me but by now I hope he’s found out that I’m not the threat.”

“Did your father know this was going to happen? Us coming here and you remembering?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. And I don’t think my mother wanted this for me either. He won’t expect that I’m going to stop him. Let’s go.”

They walked out of the deep chamber underneath the “Sea of Memory”, and hiked the spiral trail. Alberto had a faraway look at times. Zephyr did her best to take in the Grace Forest, so that she could remember it in every way she could.

Luna, South Aitken Basin, On a train en route to Shackleton Crater, Hyperion

“Shisima,” said the Captain.

“Excuse me?” Tomassina looked up from her equipment check.

The Captain thought about one of his moments on Earth before he went up the well.

“You already know about this card,” said the Captain, as he pulled out the matte back card etched with ‘H R V S T’, “there was also another card, which came from a co-president of the SC.”

The ‘S.C.’, the Space Cooperative. Everyone in the train stopped their equipment and weapons check for a moment and looked at the captain for explanation.

“Before I went up the well, Wellington gave me a business card, that I could show to Nairobi to prove I could be trusted. Its message was ‘With this player, we will reach a body of water we seek’.” The Captain showed the business card to the team.

The card had an octagon, with 4 lines which divided it into 8 slices.

“That’s also on the black card you’ve been carrying around,” said Tomassina.

The captain took out the black card and pressed on it. A small octagon rose from its matte black surface, and then showed the other card with an octagon printed on it.

“It refers to a game, Shisima, which means ‘The Source’, ‘source of water’. You see the octagon printed on this card? It matches the one on this black card from Armstrong’s administrator. It’s a symbol for a very old game, a kind of tic-tac-toe.

Fourlines which divide the octagon into 8 slices. Each player has 3 pieces, called ‘imbalavali’, ‘water bugs’, and they take up 3 spots on the outer spokes of the Octagon. Each player has to line up their 3 pieces in a straight line, a row, so that 1 piece includes the center, where all the lines intersect, at the source, water. The prize.

The head of Nairobi told me I was in the game. I’m one of the 3 pieces.”

Tommy spoke up, “Your friend, was the first piece in this game, right?”

The captain nodded as Tomassina handed back the card to him. He looked at the card and shook his head, “Somebody must have known about me, through Robin, to set this up. First, he or she knew to recruit Robin and then me, and my service record, that I would follow through, and take this hunt all the way up the well.

Next thing you know, I find you, TwoTwo, and the rest of the old unit to help me.”

Tomassina, who returned to cleaning and testing gear, kept talking, “You know, Cap, you could say the SC, the Space Cooperative, has been playing a bigger ‘Shisima’. The 3 offices of the 3 co-presidents, that’s like 3 big, what was that, waterbugs?”

“Waterbugs, imbalavali, yes…”

“Yeah, imbalavali. Funny to think of the SC as a game and the copresidents are pieces.”

“Maybe. Houston knocks out Wellington but Nairobi is playing a double-bluff. She threw Wellington under the bus but in private, they’re on the same side.”

“Damn. You grow up thinking of the SC, its leaders in one way, then see it like this.

You said you’re up here for something else. For Necker. A founding father of the SC, a ghost, an urban myth. I hear things but what to believe? Now, we’re headed straight for him, assuming he’s alive. Is Necker the third piece?”

“No, I came up here, looking for the SC’s “brain”, the sentient ledger. He’s the third piece, or at least, that what I think.

After looking on the Verse, I followed the rumors, straight up the well to Luna.

Before I came up the well, I thought that I was in a game between the SC’s copresidents. But that’s not it at all. This began long before two of them got Robin promoted to be their eyes and ears on the third copresident in Houston.

I thought I was getting evidence, proof to take down ‘Houston’, but he’s a side-show.

Houston might have blinded the SC’s early warning systems before the CMEs hit everyone but even he couldn’t have done it alone. It wasn’t on his initiative. That said, he might have gone along with this but he had his own ambitions for the SC.”

“So it’s Necker. He’s really alive and the one we want?”

“I don’t think so. Nairobi didn’t stop me when I suggested to her that the Ledger was the third piece, and even agreed, saying I had to find and help him.

But who is running the game? Was it Necker?

But the “Harvest”, what’s going on at Shackleton is the real game this whole time.”

This place is called “From The Future”, it began with every intention of heading straight to the place that has not happened yet, the next present, the future.

The masks, ‘imagines maiorum’, were stored in the atriums of families’ homes. The “Death Mask” reproduced and remembered faces, molded in their prime of life.

The faces of the past were recorded in beeswax, a fragile and expensive medium, and stored near household altars. At funeral processions, one generation, the present, wore the masks in reverent reenactment of memories. Actors and family wore them.

The masks were so fragile and expensive, that they inspired the Romans’ famed lifelike portrait sculptures of stone. The rituals of memory continued for centuries. They extended backwards in time and downwards into caverns dug into the earth. The catacombs were storehouses of memory.

Later, life masks became common tools, made from the living for scientific posterity. Reproductions of the present, before it became the past, for the benefit of the future.

They were used for research, celebrities, criminals, and attempted classification of people. The masks were used by scientists from the late 18th century onwards to record variations in human physiognomy. Anthropologists studied physiognomic features in both famous people and notorious criminals.

The age of illustrated memories, born in a cave, of drawing, painting, and sculpting, surrendered to the mechanical-chemical age of capturing light. Photos and film took the baton. The photorealistic became the realistic, and when the electromagnetic age took over, an unreal reality of the virtual began in caverns of man’s imagination.

The means of memory may change but the purpose remains: remember, revere, relive.

Luna, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, “The Grace”

They walked through a paradise made from a barren airless desert.

Billions of years ago, something big crashed into the middle of the south pole of the moon. After the heat of the impact cooled off, a large crater was left behind, over 21 km wide and over 4 km deep. The moon had almost no orbital “tilt” with an axis that was near-perpendicular to Earth’s equatorial plane. Sunshine was endless on its crater outer walls, and its interior was under a cold trap of endless shade. For eons.

They imagined Eternal Peaks of Light in the 19th century, before Jules Verne in 1865, long before it was named, in 1994, after Ernest Shackleton, who passed away in 1922 on a fourth, failed attempt to return to and explore Antarctica.

A century after Shackleton died in his bunk, ready to explore the unknown again, in 2022, other explorers looked to return to the moon. A half century after the last footsteps were made, next steps began again, to return to the moon, and stay.

An endless light of the imagination had not faded. It was brought to the first world beyond Earth.

Inside the forest, ‘The Grace’, they almost forgot where they were.

The sign of the station, Shackleton Solarium-Grace Forest, soft slow green blinking.

STATION VOICE: WELCOME TO THE GRACE, TO “THE SPIRAL TRAIL”.

Leaving behind the station, in soft slow small bounding steps, they hiked down a trail.

There were long stretches, switchbacks, sites of botanical and biological interest, and rest stops. The hike had a slow circular downward slope to the floor of the forest. Every so often, other hikers walked passed them, in the other direction, upwards, some with a reverent look of recognition and polite nods.

After a few hours, they paused at a rest stop. Outside was the faint burble of drones and the unexpected, faint birdsong. A small drone offered food and water. They ate hours ago in the Solarium, and it was still a new feeling, to eat, to drink. To be human.

Looking at a map in the rest stop, a map marked something on the peak of a mound at the center of the forest. It was a small octagonal icon, marked “Sea of Memory”.

When they were close enough, they saw that the structure had spires, sweeping arches, and walls of stone and steel alternating with tall windows of colored glass.

Inside the glass was a mosaic of worlds within worlds.

The glass told a story. The sun, the earth, the other worlds of the system, the stars and ships. The moon. There were outlines of people, one person holding another’s hand, standing side by side, and between them was a smaller outline, of a young one, a child.

Tall metal doors flanked the entrance at the top of the structure’s steps.

Alberto went up the stairs, Zephyr paused and turned to look back at the view.

Around them, far away curved walls of organic metallic strands, veins of scaffolding covered in growth, kilometers away, surrounded the forest. She looked up, at the spires of the front of the structure, at the tree tops, at a dome that was a sky, so high. Her reason for being on the Verse was to make beauty, art, none of it was from atoms.

To live as an autonomous artist she breathed in the memories of others through her partitioned selves on the Verse, and exhaled creations of data and light. Her inspirations were the memories of fellow sentients, conscious contracts, and carbon models, humans. She doubted if she could match this place but she tried to take it all in with her eyes.

“It’s beautiful. It’s all beautiful. What is this place?,” she asked.

“I … I don’t know but … let’s go in, that’s all I know. That’s all I feel,” Alberto looked back at Zephyr but it was as if he didn’t see her, or was seeing through her to someplace far away. He turned to walk inside, and motioned for her to follow.

They passed through the entrance, underneath an arch of moonrock with inlays of alloys, flanked by two giant doors etched with gold patterns of stories, into a place that felt bigger on the inside than the expanse of the forest.

There was shadow and dark as they wandered forward, which gave way to light. Off to the sides were tall glass walls, the colors of their stories illuminated from outside.

Echoes of footsteps and conversations hidden by the shadows were the only sounds.

Alberto looked up at the grand dome above, at the maps of the stars and worlds, resting on an octagonal ring of eight rectangular strips of moonrock and alloy.

He was standing in front of an open entrance under a wide arch.

Above it, a sign: “MER~MARE”.

Alberto walked towards the entrance, Zephyr grabbed one of his hands as if to stop him but she saw that distant look on his face again, and let him go. As he walked down its steps and almost disappeared, she looked around one more time. She wanted to remember everything. By the time she looked back, he disappeared down the stairs.

The steps led down to a long chamber with a squat barrel-vaulted ceiling.

There were no more echoes, the only lights were from small sconces on the walls. There was no “outside” light, it was dark, cool, and dry.

While Zephyr could breathe it felt as if there was no air to breathe. She looked for Alberto and found him sitting on a small long bench at the end of a long narrow room. He was looking at two large rectangular boxes at the head of the room. She sat next to Alberto and looked at the boxes. They each had a golden square, a plaque, on the end of one side in view, with more letters etched on them.

Zephyr read the plaques. She read them aloud.

“In Memory of Grace Wangu Necker, brilliant human, devoted wife, loving mother.”

She read the second plaque, and caught herself. Alberto stopped staring off into space and looked at Zephyr, “Go ahead, read it.”

“In Memory of Albert L’Orleans Marque Necker, destiny denied, beloved son.”

“It’s me. Albert L’Orleans Marque Necker. Albert. O. Alberto.”

Zephyr almost backed away and stopped, feeling a new feeling. Humans would call it shame, for her reaction, “You were human. You weren’t just made, you were born. Your carbon model is your true father in every way.”

Alberto nodded, “He’s my father in every and either way but I’m not sure what I am.”

The sentient ledger of the Cooperative, charged with much of the world’s financial memory, was once a human, not a contract. He wasn’t just made, he was born.

Alberto reached over to one crypt and touched the plaque of Grace Necker. He stood up, then doubled over, threw up, and began to cry. Zephyr jumped off the bench, grabbed him, and tried to hold him. He knelt before the crypt and touched the plaque.

“Maman.”

It was the golden age of Antarctic exploration. 1914.

Shackleton went twice, almost reaching the pole but Amundsen did it first. So, Shackleton chose a new mission to cross the continent, from one sea to another.

The Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition set out, aboard the ship Endurance. They ship tried to slip through the pack ice which circled the continent.

Just one day’s sailing away from the landing site, it was over already.

The winds squeezed the collar of ice against the shore and the Endurance was caught between them. The ship was trapped, its crew took shelter within its walls.

Shackleton remained calm but he knew what was coming.

The ice was not done. The slow tightening grip of the ice ripped away the stern, letting in the water, and the men had to abandon ship. They had been preparing for 10 months. The men set camp on the ice and watched as the ship was consumed.

A month later, the last of the Endurance was swallowed by the ice.

The order was to take only what they needed, everything else was dead weight, including the smaller of the 69 dogs taken along. Not even a mascot, a cat, was allowed. They tried to cross the ice but after a week they had managed only 7 miles. It was decided that they would camp on the ice and ride along as it flowed northward.

Islands were in sight, hope at last but the raft of ice the men sailed on was about to come apart. Shackleton ordered the men to launch their lifeboats.

Some of them were driven mad by lack of sleep, seasickness, and dysentery but they rowed on. They had no choice. They made dry land after a week on the bitter cold waters, their first dry land in almost 500 days. Elephant Island.

There were still far from home.

After a few days of rest, Shackleton, the ship captain, and four men took one of the lifeboats to get help. After two weeks of punishment by the seas on a tiny ship, they made it to South Georgia island but it was the other side of the island, far from help.

Shackleton with 2 others hiked for 36 hours over mountain and glacier to reach a whaling station.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Shackleton.”

It took three attempts, 128 days since he left for help, until he rescued the men.

Everyone made it back home alive. August 30, 1916.

Shackleton prepared a fourth expedition. The man who came out of the ice was not the same, according to those who knew him. He lost a part of himself.

He died of a heart attack in 1922.

In 2022, the remains of the Endurance were found. A leader’s bravery was remembered.

Luna, Aitken Basin, train en route to Shackleton Crater, Hyperion

“Cap, ETA 30 minutes.”

“Tommy, everyone, equipment and weapons check.”

“Copy that.”

The captain called up a map.

“The administrator, Aleksander, gave me a rough map of what to expect at Shackleton. It’s classified, even to senior people at the Cooperative. That’s how much power Necker has. This is like his private island on the Moon.

This train runs between Armstrong, through the outer boros, all the way to the south pole, straight to Shackleton and Hyperion. It’s a maintenance and supply line that feeds Hyperion. Thanks to Aleksander, we can sneak in as Hyperion staff.”

The captain shows the matte black card marked with “HRVST” to Tomassina.

“What is this, Cap?”

“This is our pass into Hyperion, so we can get close to the “Harvest” when it lands.”

“Are we taking the ship?”

“We have to stop them from using the “Harvest” again. We have to find a way. Take it, break it, or blow it up. We’re on our own. No backup. Nobody else knows about this place but even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to stop it. For all we know, Necker is getting help from inside the Cooperative. He’s brilliant but even he needs friends.

The last time they used this ship, it set off a storm.”

“I heard from the news oracles that Texas by the gulf, that Heavyville got washed out, the whole Gulf got hit by that hurricane,” said one of the team.

“I don’t know if that was part of it but this thing Necker’s built is the reason for that CME. That’s the storm I was talking about. That ship set something off the Sun and sent it all over the place, hitting everything down the well, up here, and even Mars.”

Tomassina and the team looked at the captain. CME. Coronal Mass Ejection, the ejection of solar plasma which can disrupt electronics. The recent one was so powerful, it devastated entire systems. Worst of all it killed people everywhere.

“I don’t know if it was on purpose, part of a plan, I don’t care. We can figure that out later. We’re stopping it. The administrator told me, they’re still moving ahead, and they’re going to do it again, run another test. Some of Hyperion’s people, contractors living in Armstrong, including the last administrator tried to stop it but they were killed. He’s got blood on his hands, and he won’s stop.”

“If this was kept secret to even higher ups, how did you know?”

“I didn’t, that’s the other thing. I came up the well for a different reason, to find someone, to find out what happened to something, I mean someone important.”

The team waited for the Captain, as the gears turned in everyone’s minds.

“The Cooperative’s money. The Sentient Ledger has gone missing right around the time both of the those storms hit, about right before the hurricane and the CME. Looking back, it can’t be a coincidence. I was brought in by a friend in the Cooperative, out of Houston, to find the Ledger, find out what happened.

It led me to two co-presidents of the Cooperative, the one in Wellington, pushed out and stuck in gilded cage, and then Nairobi, who still had a seat at the table, and next thing I have to go up the well.”

“God, Cap. This is….”

“Tommy, I know. This is insane and almost nobody except for Necker, and whoever is helping him, knows what has been going on. But now we know. We’re here to stop them from killing more people. We have to stop that ship, this “Harvest”. And we have to find the Ledger.”

-Ernest Shackleton

Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton, in the last great age of exploration of the Antarctic, went on three missions to the South Pole of the Earth.

Each mission exceeded the last.

The first set a record of Latitude south 82 degrees. The second reached south 88 degrees, less than 200 Km from the pole itself, and included an expedition to the frozen continent’s largest active volcano, Erebus. Another explorer, however, Amundsen reached the pole first.

Shackleton chose a new challenge when the one he pursued was won by another.

The Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition would cross the continent from sea to sea.

The ship Endurance was trapped in and destroyed by the ice.

Survival became the new mission, ‘Endurance’ was still the name of how to reach it.

Shackleton tried again but died of a heart attack in South Georgia, and in debt because of a restlessness that did not translate into business success. His obituaries praised him but he was forgotten as he fell under the shadow of others, like Scott.

The remains of the ship Endurance, and Shackleton’s reputation for leadership in crisis, were rediscovered a century later.

Luna, Shackleton Crater

There is a crater, 3.6 billion years old, on the moon.

A crater almost dead center at the south pole of the moon.

The moon’s axis has passed through its interior for the last 2 billion years.

A pocket world of contrasts.

An ancient impact burrowed in and liquified the crust, and when it cooled it formed a crater 21 Km wide and 4.2 Km deep.

Its rim, bathed in never-ending sunlight, was a golden crown. “Peaks of Eternal” light.

The reason is the moon tilted 5 percent from the plane of the ecliptic, the imaginary plane formed by the Earth’s equator. The Sun’s light strikes at almost a perpendicular angle, near a right angle, to the crater. For most of the moon’s orbit, the crater is in constant sunlight, almost all the time.

Behind its walls, the ground’s drop is 30 degrees from inside the rim to its dark center.

Inside the shadow cast by its walls was a frozen reservoir, made of the remnants of comets. The shadow’s endless darkness was a cold trap, within which early probes sniffed for above average amounts of hydrogen, signs of water ice.

The International Astronomical Union, in 1994, named the crater after Ernest Shackleton, explorer of the Earth’s south pole.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion

The lock spoke: ALBERTO NECKER, ZEPHYR SPRING, WELCOME TO HYPERION. THE NEXT WALKING TOUR OF GRACE IS BEING PREPARED.

Alberto and Zephyr stopped looking at the view, smiled, and looked at each other.

This was not a simulation.

There, under nestled within the crater which on its exterior received blistering electromagnetic fury turned into an eternal crown of light, was not darkness.

A forest on the moon.

“Let’s go.”

The airlock’s panel lit green, and a door hissed open.

Alberto and Zephyr looked at each other just a moment and walked in. Another panel inside the airlock lit green and music began to play.

The lock: ALBERTO NECKER, ZEPHYR SPRING, WELCOME ABOARD. WE ASK THAT YOU PLEASE TAKE A SEAT AND WEAR A SAFETY HARNESS FOR OUR DEPARTURE. PLEASE WAIT FOR SEATS CONFIGURED FOR YOUR COMFORT.

Two seat frames slid out of a wall and chairs assembled themselves from the frames.

They took their seats, and secured harnesses which closed with clicks and soft tones.

The lock: THANK YOU. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR TOUR OF GRACE. WOULD YOU CARE FOR A STORY ABOUT GRACE FORESTS?

Zephyr, “Yes, Yes please.”

A window in the “airlock” formed with a view of the crater. Golden light gave way to darkness. With moments, they entered a tunnel which led into lit interior. It was as if they were in a tram, an airplane without wings, with a view of a green forest below.

The Lock’s Tour-Story:

“Welcome to the Grace Forest, located with the heart of Shackleton Crater.

The crater was named in the late 20th century after an early 20th century explorer of the Earth’s south pole. A century later, exploration of Luna began in earnest after an aborted series of journeys to the Moon in the mid to late 20th.

Our founder took it upon himself to spearhead both the settlement and development of Shackleton Crater, as part of the founding of the Hyperion Project.

Thanks to various research specialists and development teams, the interior of the crater, once a frozen region in near-eternal darkness for billions of years, became the cradle of a vast terraforming development throughout the interior of Shackleton.

The bottom of the Crater is covered by a mound that is 300 to 400 meters thick, with its peak, 200 meters high, transformed into a focal point and epicenter of Grace Forest.

Solar power installations at the upper exterior of Shackleton’s legendary ‘Eternal Peaks of Light" enabled the initial phases of construction, and supplies light for the forest for most of year, supplemented by nuclear power sources to maintain the semblance of a 24 hour day and night cycle.

Over time, as Hyperion’s infrastructure grew at a quick pace, the raw material of Luna was diverted into the creation of Grace Forest.

Nano and biotech specialists transformed the interior of Shackleton, and over the last few decades, a complex arboreal ecosystem was grown, with ample sunlight thanks to Shackleton’s location at almost near the center of Luna’s south pole.

The Hyperion Project’s ultimate goal is not only to supply enough energy to grow and maintain Shackleton’s current successes for centuries but to fulfill its Founder’s goal, of transforming every barren wilderness on Luna, and beyond, into paradises.

In the words of founder Albert Necker, “We aim to bring life to all that was dead.”

Alberto and Zephyr could not look away as they descended slowly towards the forest, which seemed to be all around them, 360 degrees. Above them was an impossible sky that looked like an Earth Sky that merged with a Space Sky. The treetops below were thick and green and the ground was a lunar landscape covered in green. Impossible.

“Excuse me, I have a question?” Zephyr asked the floating flying ‘airlock’.

The Lock: YES, ZEPHYR SPRING, WHAT IS YOUR QUESTION?

“What is this place named ‘Grace Forest’?”

The Lock’s Tour-Story Mode:

“The Grace Forest was named after Grace Necker. Devoted wife and loving mother, who is survived by husband, Albert L’Orleans Necker, co-founder of the Cooperative and Hyperion, and one son, named Alberto.”

Alberto’s eyes widened for a moment. His mother. He does not remember.

“Why??,” asked Alberto. Why doesn’t he remember?

Zephyr grabbed Alberto’s hand. She doesn’t know why she did, she just does.

The Tram is just above the treetops.

The Lock:

ATTENTION PLEASE. WE ARE ARRIVING TO THE FOREST FLOOR.

PREPARE TO DISEMBARK, TOUR ASSISTANCE WILL GREET YOU.

There was series of soft clunking sounds and hissing.

WE HAVE ARRIVED, PLEASE UNLOCK YOUR HARNESSES AND WAIT FOR THE HATCH TO OPEN. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR VISIT TO GRACE FOREST.

A green light on a panel. The Lock’s hatch hissed open.

They got up from their chairs and walked out.

The crunch of forest growth under their boots. The soft light of a cloudy day.

The smell of living things. Green things. Birdsong. A soft cool light humidity. Air.

The first satellite in space was the USSR's Sputnik.

The Space Race began during a Cold War. Each side raced to be first but real victory was making sure there was always a next.

**The first man in space was Yuri Gagarin, on board Vostok 1. **Vostok 1 was the first manned mission to orbit Earth, for 108 minutes, automated.

Soyuz 1's was the first crewed mission, which ended in a tragic crash landing. Afterwards, the authorities banned Gagarin from new missions. The Soviets did not want to lose their first space hero. Vostok 1 was Gagarin's only flight into space.

The first American astronaut in space was Alan Shepard, on Freedom 7.

Slated for April 1960, the Freedom 7 launch was rescheduled several times. It was a 15 minute suborbital flight that reached an altitude of 101.7 nautical miles. It was the first flight where the pilot had some control of a spacecraft.

Shepard was sick and it seemed like his first flight was his last. He went to space a second time, and became the fifth man to walk on the Moon.

Alan Shepard was the only "Mercury 7" astronaut to go to the moon.

The first only matters if there is a next. If the first was also "last", it becomes nothing. "Next" is what gives first meaning.

There must be a next to give meaning to making a first. **It's not about second place, it's about second steps. **First has no meaning if there is no more after "next".

First Has Meaning If There's Next.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Outer Boros, Grissom Hall

The captain ran, the weight of his gear and one child was not a problem, the problem was time. It was also some of the troopers he thought were locked in the stairwell behind him. They broke out, and began firing into the dark Hall.

When the trooper minding the child didn’t respond to their check-in, that was enough for someone with initiative to find out the the bottom of the stairwell was locked.

“TwoTwo, I’ve got company!”

“Keep going Cap, I left some surprises scattered in the Hall.”

Infrared decoys scattered throughout the Hall, planted as the first lures were shut off, as other decoys were lit up in the Stairwell to draw in the troopers and box them in.

“TwoTwo, how much time before we drop the hammer?”

“ETA 10 minutes. We can hold off until you’re clear before we drop the ship on the roof deck.”

“No, most of them are still boxed in, how much further??”

“You’re good, Cap. Turning on decoy countermeasures.”

The troopers ran into walls of flashbombs, flares, smoke, and incendiaries lighting up the Hall.

The shooting stopped.

“TwoTwo, that did the trick for now.”

The captain found the door to the maintenance rooms, and ran down its hallway for the entrance leading to the depot. He double checked on the boy, and patted him on the back. He slowed down as he adjusted holding the boy, and then took a few deep and slow breaths.

“Hold on, Alek, we’re almost there, you’ll be with your mom soon.”

They went into the maintenance room, and then through a hatch leading to the Depot.

“Ship’s one minute out.”

“I’m past the hatch. Prep the trains. Alek, you’re doing great. I want you to hold tight, we’re going down this ladder. Tommy, you there?”

“Tommy, here, Captain.”

“Get ready. I’m coming.”

Everything shook. The captain almost lost his grip for a second but grabbed tight. It must have been the ship dropping on the rooftop. Seconds left. He kept going, looked down and saw he was close and let himself slide down.

Landing with a stumble, he fell back, as rubble fell.

“Almost there, Alek!”

Picking himself up, the Captain threw the boy over his shoulder, and ran for the depot.

The lights of the trains were ahead. They were both still here.

He ran for the train headed to Armstrong, packed with the civilians. TwoTwo picked up the boy and brought him into the train car. He glanced up as the depot’s walls began to shake.

“Go, go, go!!!”

“Copy that!”

The captain ran for the other train, headed to Shackleton, as it began to move. Rubble missed him by inches but he kept going. Tomassina was waiting to grab the Captain’s hand and pull him in. The shower of rubble began to increase as the Hall above began collapsing. He stretched his arms out to the open train door, and Tomassina missed but then grabbed him. They pulled him up before his feet could drag along the track floor. The roar behind them was heavier, and what looked like a dust storm was headed towards them.

“I got you, Cap!!”

Tomassina and another crew member dragged the Captain into the train.

The doors sealed just as the dust cloud of the Hall’s collapse breached the Depot’s hatches.

The Captain laid on the floor of the train car, and began laughing.

“On to Shackleton.”

Thanks for reading another update of “Harvest” in this post From The Future! Subscribe as I finish this novel, and read essays about the past and the future.

1 portrait of an astronaut, pen and ink, intricate line drawings, by craig mullins, ruan jia, kentaro miura, greg rutkowski

2

Zaha Hadid city with dome and mosque by Hassan Fatahy in a Fantasy world and photo inspired by Where weird things happen by Daniele Gay on art station , le corbusier model on the ground inspired by Mining by Risa lin on art station

There was a god who made living machines but he could not restore lost loved ones.

Hephaestus, the master builder, known as Vulcan, created living machines, automata for his workshop, a factory for the Gods.

His creations included guardians such as Talos, a warrior made of bronze who may have served as a bodyguard for a Phoenician princess, Europa, against kidnappers, or as a protector of the island of Crete against invaders.

Aphrodite, Hephaestus’ wife, outdid her husband when it came to creation.

There was an artist whose art inspired the love of his life with the help of a goddess. Pygmalion, king and artist, retreated into his art, sculpture, resigned to a celibate life.

One day he made his ideal out of ivory. It was so real to him that on a feast day in honor of Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and love, he wished for a wife who looked like his ideal. When he returned home, ideal turned real, cold ivory to warm lips, Galatea.

Aphrodite heard a lonely king’s silent wish.

The Gods were not alone in this ambition for creation.

Daedaelus, who lost his son to hubris for flying with wings too weak for the sun, brought life to his statues, by infusing them with a blood made of quicksilver. But he never dared more. He could make many things but he could not remake the past and bring back his son.

Hope does not inspire cautionary tales, no warnings against defying the gods and nature. Hubris opens the door to scales being rebalanced by the powers-that-be.

There are no myths of restored lost loved ones, because hope does not equal to hubris.

Luna, South Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion

“My boy, how are you feeling?”

“I can talk now. We both can talk,” Alberto nodding at Zephyr, “parts of it are coming back. Everything else is kind of there. It’s all on the tip of my mind.”

“It’s alright, son, it will come back. You will come back. And you, my dear? How are you doing? I trust you had a good rest. I like these rooms as well, pure energy.”

Necker spread his arms as if to gather an armful of light from the air.

“Yes, Yes Mr. Necker, I did, thank you,” Zephyr was taking in the solarium, “it’s all very beautiful, I’ve been to many places, I mean in the Verse but it’s beautiful here.”

“I understand, one minute, the Verse, and all of its expectations on how things work, replaced by a place. A place that has been here for billions of years. We’re just borrowing it for a little while and making the best of it.”

Necker smiled. A piece of the moon turned into a kingdom.

Trays were brought in.

“Ah, breakfast, or brunch in your case. The trip up the well, however you do it, can take it out of you, even if you did it as a stream of information.”

Alberto looked over at Necker. He had questions. Necker looked back and nodded.

“It’s alright, son. We’ll get to it. Your first meal of the day here. In fact, your first meal ever as a corporeal ever, … for both of you. No need to warm up bottles or make airplane sounds with a spoon. Not in a long time.” Necker looked down. He remembered how it was, bottles of formula and milk, down the well on Earth, when family conversations were gentle monologues recited to a baby.

A long table rose from the floor and table setting for three was prepared. Necker sat at the head of the table, it was his table after all, and he raised a glass to Alberto and Zephyr.

“It’s good to have you back, son. And it’s wonderful to have you with us, my dear. I could not ask for more. We had prepared some family favorites prepared.”

Alberto raised his glass, he paused a moment, sipped and the cool fresh sweet water opened a door that was locked for a long time. He looked over at Zephyr, gave a small nod to reassure her, she did likewise and sipped. Her eyes widened, and she sipped again. They raised their glasses in Necker’s direction.

Someone walked in, “Excuse me, Sir, pardon the interruption, this couldn’t wait.”

“Yes, what is it?” Necker, looked up from his plate, and waited for more. The staffer, hands clasped, looked briefly in the direction of the main window and back at Necker.

“We have more news about Grissom.”

Necker’s small smile flattened. He put down his glass, and pushed away from the table.

“Alright…,” He turned to look at Alberto and Zephyr, “Excuse me, some work to do. You two enjoy yourselves. Tour the rest of the open spaces, both of you. If you need anything, someone will be nearby to assist. I’ll see you again later at dinner.”

Necker turned to his staffer, “Alright. Let’s see what this is and why you need me.”

Necker walked out of the Solarium, the staffer followed right behind him.

“What do you think that was about, Alberto?”

“I don’t know,” That was on his mind, he didn’t know, “that’s just it. Let’s take a look around.” He rose, and walked over to take Zephyr’s hand, “let’s find out what I know.”

Zephyr took another sip, marveled at the glass, and put it down to follow Alberto.

They walked into a long curved corridor. Across from them was was a long curved clear wall, floor to ceiling, and more light. It was not the filtered golden light of the Solarium which bathed the peaks of Shackelton. It was a view of something that felt familiar to Alberto, somewhere in the back of his mind, and it was something Zephyr lived in versions of abstractions.

Next to the clear wall was an airlock which hissed open.

The lock spoke: ALBERTO NECKER, ZEPHYR SPRING, WELCOME TO HYPERION. THE NEXT WALKING TOUR OF GRACE IS BEING PREPARED.

Alberto and Zephyr stopped looking at the view, smiled, and looked at each other.

This was not a simulation.

There, under nestled within the crater which on its exterior received blistering electromagnetic fury turned into an eternal crown of light, was not darkness.

A forest on the moon.

“Let’s go.”

NOTES

1 artistic portrait of a marble aphrodite, art by alessio albi 8 k ultra realistic, marble, gold, heart, women, classical art, textureg, trending on artstation, 4 k, hyperrealistic, focused, extreme details, unreal engine 5, masterpiece

2

closeup black and white photo from the surface of the moon, cinematic film still, glowing landing lights on spaceship landing on, stars and space in the background, fog and dust

3

mysterious glowing white domed sci-fi building, Ivan Shishkin and Greg Rutkowski

The mission's call sign was chosen for its message, "a long voyage with many changes of fortune". Odyssey.

Third to the Moon , second for precision landing, first disaster in space.

It began with one engine failure but the other engines carried the load.

After that, everything went as planned. 56 hours into the flight, 210,000 miles away from Earth, about two-thirds of the way to the Moon, everything changed.

When a pressure sensor reading was off, Mission Control requested a daily mixing of the fuel tanks to correct it. 95 seconds later, there was an explosion. Contact was lost for 1.8 seconds. "Okay, Houston, we've had a problem here." reported the crew.

They thought it was a micrometeoroid but it was the ship. The command module lost fuel cells and oxygen. The crew was in danger.

Everyone improvised. The lunar lander, Aquarius, had charged batteries and full oxygen tanks. It would be a lifeboat.

They would approach and circle around the Moon to go home.

The tension of passing from behind the dark side of the Moon gave way to the need to improvise and "burn" the Lunar Lander's engines for 4 minutes and 23 seconds for the return-trip to Earth. They needed the engines of the lunar lander to push away from the lunar orbit, instead of landing on the moon.

Done by eye and hand, the crew of the ship then shut systems down to save power.

It was cold in the unheated lifeboat, condensation grew on the walls but they still had to ration water as well as power.

Mission Control's advice against using the command module's engine to return was right. After the rear section of the command module was detached in preparation for the return, the crew saw the damaged engine.

Before reentry, they reentered the dormant command module, which had just enough power. There was enough power but only if the reawakening from full shutdown could be done in a specific order. The margin for error was tiny.

Mission control figured out a way for the crew, now returned to the command module, to detach far away enough from the lifeboat that was the lunar lander module. The remains of the lander, which carried a sealed container of plutonium oxide, was timed to land in one of the deepest parts of the Pacific.

The last of the ship’s power was enough for the parachutes to deploy, after the command module capsule made it past the fiery reentry.

Splashdown. The crew, former test pilots, worked under enormous pressure with instructions improvised by Mission Control. They made it home.

Apollo 13.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Outer Boros, Grissom Hall

“You’re clear. Unlocking the door to the Hall.”

“Anyone else on the floor?”

“No, they’re all in the stairwell and the elevators. They moving up. When they get to the deck level, we will lock the elevators.”

“Lock the stairwell doors.”

“Copy that.”

“Which side of the Hall are they?”

“They’re on the other end. Still just one hostile watching the kid.”

The captain did a last weapons check, and made sure his suit and visor were “green”.

“Unlock the door.”

“Door unlocked.”

He walked out of the back-offices into the main floor of the Hall. He went along one long side of the hall, away from the open promenades in the middle, his eyes open.

“The hostile still by the door?”

“Yes. You’re almost there, you’ll be off to the side.”

“I have to draw him out, he’ll leave the kid there to wait. I don’t want to take him out there, in case someone is on the other side of the door, and hears him fall.”

He made it to an exhibition near the stairwell, line with shelves and display cases.

The captain took small med packets still in their casing out of a pocket.

He could see the lone Hyperion security trooper, standing by the stairwell door. A child was sitting off to the side of the door. He threw one packet which clattered. Nothing. He threw another packet. A moment later, the echo of footsteps approaching.

He hears the trooper report on his microphone, “Nothing, might have been junk. Headed back.” As the trooper’s boot’s squealed from his about-face as turned to go back, the captain came in and put him down fast. Not a sound. He fast-walks over to the child, and takes off his visor. He sees the kid who’s too terrified to even make a sound, who begins to push backwards on all fours on the floor, backing away.

The captain takes off his visor. He knows this kid. It’s the administrator’s son.

“Hey, hey, Alek junior, right? I’m Edward, I’m a friend of your dad. He told me to come get you, so you can go home.”

The boy’s terror fades but he does not smile, “My dad? You’re friends with Dad? I never saw you before.”

“Yes, Your dad and I are friends. He was so nice to me, he opened a bottle of water, from Earth, to share with me. He said he was saving it for a special day. He was so proud of your commendation.” The Captain remembered being in the Administrator’s office and saw a picture of the boy standing with his class commendation. “You were with your mom, how did you end up here? You’ve been very brave.”

“I was playing and when everything happened, I hid. Mom said if I was in the park or in a place like The Square to hide, and be very quiet, until she or dad found me.”

“You did very good, that’s right, Alek, hang on,” the captain turned on his mike, “TwoTwo, is the administrator’s wife with you?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Please put her on. Hey Alek, talk to your mom for a minute, so she knows you’re okay.” The captain gave the boy the mike, “Alek? Alek?? Where have you been??"

“Mom, Mom. I’m sorry, I was playing, I got lost. Mom, I hid like in the game and I kept quiet. A man found me and he went away and Dad’s friend is here.”

“He is, I want you to go with the Captain. He’s Mom and Dad’s friend.”

The boy stood up and accepted the Captain’s hand. The Captain got back on the mike.

“TwoTwo, ETA on that ship?”

A transport was coming. They were going to drop it on the building and the troopers.

“Cap, you have to book it, you got 10 minutes.”

“Copy that. Hey Alek, we’re going to have a race, but I have to hold you, that’s the rule, okay? You ready? TwoTwo, I’m on my way but remember what I said.”

-static-

“Cap… Copy that Cap.”

The captain picked up the boy and ran for the back offices leading to the depot.

NOTES:

AI Art Lexica Prompt

1

a fancy portrait of a half robot half alien women by Greg Rutkowski, Sung Choi, Mitchell Mohrhauser, Maciej Kuciara, Johnson Ting, Maxim Verehin, Peter Konig, final fantasy , 8k photorealistic, cinematic lighting, HD, high details, atmospheric , trending on artstation

2

Zaha Hadid city with dome and mosque by Hassan Fatahy in a Fantasy world and photo inspired by Where weird things happen by Daniele Gay on art station , le corbusier model on the ground inspired by Mining by Risa lin on art station

3

blown up space ship in the sky, stylized, artstation, hd, cgsociety, cgi, realistic, dramatic, cinematic, artistic, trending, detailed

1967 Cape Canaveral, Florida

The mission to land a man on the moon by the end of the decade was near out of time.

In just a few years so much had been achieved to make a moon landing possible. One of the most dramatic leaps in technology took the U.S. from 10 minute ballistic test flights to lunar capable spacecraft in less than 5 years. Apollo.

The first version was ready for a test in Earth orbit.

Delivered in late 1966 to Kennedy Space Center, there were signs of problems.

Warning signs are in the details, but haste belittles them.

As great as the technological progress achieved, there were also over a 100 incomplete engineering changes, and 600 more change orders post-delivery.

A training simulator could not be updated as fast as the changes. A week before the contractor delivered the ship, the crew was worried about the flammable material used to hold gear in zero g. The astronauts, trained men with engineering backgrounds who did not volunteer to become passive passengers, were worried.

They went ahead with a power system test on January 27, 1967.

The decision-makers were not worried, since there was no fuel in the ships, and all explosive components were switched off.

The test began at 1:00:00 PM, with annoying things like a strange smell, then the frustration of bad communications between mission control's buildings and the ship.

It all went wrong, at 6:31:04 PM. A fire.

By the time the ground crew could get to them, it was too late.

Mission Commander, and Mercury 7 veteran, Gus Grissom managed to get out of his seat but the fire overcame him. Senior pilot Ed White was on his side. The muscular White tried to open the hatch but air pressure sealed the cabin shut. Pilot Roger Chaffee was still strapped in his seat.

Melted nylon fused the crew to the ship's interior.

After it was over, it took 90 minutes to remove their bodies.

All Apollo flights were on hold. There was a long investigation. A price paid for haste.

Apollo 8, a ship incorporating all the engineering lessons of Apollo 1, was the first manned Apollo flight in October 1968.

In July 1969, Neil Armstrong of Apollo 11 left an Apollo 1 mission patch on the surface of the Moon.

Uncertainty was the reality of one of the most complicated missions in history.

The unknowns piled up even faster than the questions. They moved ahead despite the uncertainty. When a promise outweighs the unknowns, the price paid is not in vain.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Outer Boros, Grissom Hall

“I made it up to the mechanical room.”

-static-

“There’s a door leading to a hallway to maintenance, offices. All clear, they’re moving to the stairwell that leads to the deck.”

“Do you see the kid? Has to be inside one of these heat blobs.”

“They did a sweep, I don’t think the kid would have hidden from them in time.”

“Keep looking.”

The captain checked his visor one more time and moved down the hallway.

“Unlocking a door that leads into the main floor of the hall, it’s all clear.”

“Good news, any bad news?”

“We found the kid.”

-static-

“Where?”

“They have him. Must have been playing or got lost in the Hall somehow when we got everyone else down to the Depot, got left behind.”

“Where is he? Please don’t tell me inside the stairwell.”

“No, outside the doors leading to it.”

“Let me guess, someone stayed behind with the kid.”

“Yes. One hostile, one kid. Outside of the stairwell.”

The captain had to get the kid back without drawing attention.

“How much time do we have left?”

“Ship inbound ETA less than 15 minutes.”

-static-

“I’m going for it. If I don’t make it back, TwoTwo, you get those people to Armstrong. Tommy, you take the other train with the others, straight to Shackleton.

In 15 minutes, we’re about to drop a ship on this building.”

NOTE: For those who feel like they’ve been dropped in the middle of things

You don’t need to know it but in case you’re wondering, there is a story being written on the fly, day by day, for 30 days. This is now the mid-way point.

This chapter is from the POV of the “good guys” who hope to pull off a rescue plan of a group of civilians as revealed in Chapter 11.

In Chapter 10, the same events are told from the POV of the “bad guys” want to kidnap that same group of civilians.

You are reading the last few chapters for a book I began writing a few months ago. We’re very close to the end the book, days away.

Art Notes

1

A portrait of a 2001 Space Odyssey Astronaut, face, intricate, elegant, highly detailed, digital painting, artstation, concept art, smooth, sharp focus, illustration, art by Krenz Cushart and Artem Demura and alphonse mucha

2

Zaha Hadid city with dome and mosque by Hassan Fatahy in a Fantasy world and photo inspired by Where weird things happen by Daniele Gay on art station , le corbusier model on the ground inspired by Mining by Risa lin on art station

In 1936, a young MIT engineer was recruited by Theodore von Karman of Caltech.

von Karman, a legend in the history of flight, said this of the engineer:

"he was an undisputed genius whose work was providing an enormous impetus to advances in high-speed aerodynamics and jet propulsion"

Hsue-Shen Tsien, mathematician by training, experimented with a young technology, rockets. It involved materials that were volatile and dangerous. The research was so risky, the Caltech group was nicknamed the "Suicide Squad".

The “Suicide Squad” would later become the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

During W.W. II, Tsien worked in the Manhattan Project.

He co-authored a document, the first to use the name "Jet Propulsion Laboratory", proposing that the U.S. should build rockets to counter Germany's V2 rocket weapons.

The U.S. sent Tsien with the rank of Colonel to Germany. There, he investigated German labs and interviewed its scientists, including Werner Von Braun (who later led NASA's landing a man on the moon).

After the war, Tsien worked on early designs for a space plane, a proto-Space Shuttle.

In 1949, with von Karman's recommendation, Tsien was going to become the Goddard professor at Caltech, destined for life as an academic.

By 1951, he was under house arrest as a national security threat.

The U.S., without intending it, helped create China's space program.

The Cold War changed everything. Tsien didn't want to help build bombs against China, and he wasn't good at being diplomatic about it. All his past contributions were forgotten as a new front in the Cold War emerged - in outer space.

Overnight, Tsien was classified as a national security threat and put under house arrest. Stuck at home, he wrote a textbook, "Engineering Cybernetics". In 1955, Eisenhower made a deal, Tsien was exchanged for 11 U.S. Korean War POWs.

After resettling in China, Tsien became the founder of China's missile program, and later one of the fathers of its space program in 1992. His research led to China's first rocket, "Long March", which was used for the "Shenzhou V" mission, China's first manned mission to space.

In 2003, Tsien watched the launch of “Shenzhou V” from a hospital bed. About 20 years later, China launched its first space station.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion Project, Space Cooperative

“Sir, the upload was successful, formatting underway in the Pygmalion Chamber.

The gestation has been completed, the nanos will continue the process. The initial render is finished. They have serviceable bodies which will complete themselves.”

“That’s wonderful. At last! Someone should say, ‘congratulations, it’s a boy”, I should pass around cigars, shouldn’t I? The Harvest is inbound and we have time for family.

This is welcome news after what happened at Grissom Hall. All those people, and they did it to themselves. Senseless. Listening to malcontents or worse, their fears. Haven’t I done everything for them?

My son, returned to the world, whole in body. His mind will follow, I know it. All thanks to the “Harvest”, just enough entanglement, sipped from the Sun itself, to do this. A small taste of what we can do. If only they believed in me and didn’t panic. It’s too late to bring them all back but not for others.”

“Yes, sir, of course. Anytime you are ready, they’re coming around, but they will be disoriented. We don’t know how the ledger… I mean, your son… what his state of mind is like, we know it will be, for now, altered mental status, with pockets of clarity.”

“It will be fine, he has this place, us, and most of all, he has me. Someone to help me.

Lead on, it’s time to greet my son. I want to welcome him home.”

Shackleton Crater, Hyperion Project, Pygmalion Chamber

BRIGHT WHITE LIGHT fades into focus, of a room with no sharp angles, a dome whose color alternated between off-white matte finish and dull grey steel.

Albert’s and Zephyr’s eyes open and they try to move but it is difficult.

It’s as if they woke up from a long fitful night filled with a kaleidoscope of dreams.

Albert turns on one side and pushes himself up so that he’s sitting on the floor. Above him is a curved ceiling, a dome, glowing brighter and darker in a slow rhythm of light.

A faint voice, far away, says, “lower the platform.”

The floor doesn’t seem to move but what looks like a dome of stars overhead recede. At the curved rim of the floor, another floor, outside the curve, seems to rise until they become one new circular floor with one circular wall wrapped around the room.

Light comes in through a door-shaped hole opening in the wall. A man walks through it.

At that moment, Albert realizes he’s standing and staring as the man comes closer.

Albert stares at a face that reminds him of his own but it has wear and years on it. He looks over in Zephyr’s direction, who’s also standing. At least he thinks he’s looking at Zephyr, she doesn’t look like before, but it’s hard to remember. He feels it’s her, like he feels he’s himself.

Zephyr is looking at him. Her mouth opens a little as if to speak but she is quiet.

The man walking towards them and stops in front of them. His expression is blank for a moment but begins to laugh, and extends a hand in greeting, and grabs Albert’s right hand to complete a handshake. Albert looks at the handshake, and then back at the man.

"Welcome, Albert. This must be Zephyr. Welcome, Zephyr, it’s so nice to meet you.”

The man with his other hand grasps Zephyr’s hand. She almost pulls back but doesn’t.

Alberto makes his mouth move, as he looks at the man. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say but words come. He doesn’t know why he says what he says, he just does.

"Hello. Zephyr, this Albert L'Orleans Necker, former Chief Financial Overseer of the Space Cooperative, former senior member of the Board of Directors of the Cooperative. My Carbon Model. My father."

Albert L’Orleans Necker laughed and held Alberto by the sides of his shoulders.

"Welcome to Luna."

America was electrified by the vision of landing a man on the moon in the 1960s.

To achieve this, NASA created an astronaut program.

There was a second astronaut program few knew about.

In 1962, the Secretary of Defense authorized work on a variety of special space projects, including a black project, the Military Observation Laboratory, "MOL".

In public, the MOL's "cover story" was funding for a laboratory.

Its classified mission was as a military orbital platform to watch the Soviets. Special cameras were built by Eastman Kodak in an underground factory.

A school was begun to train recruits, the Aerospace Research Pilot School (ARPS), headed by Chuck Yeager, the legend who broke the sound barrier.

Recruits were informed after they were selected that they were chosen for a space program with a black ops mission. They had two choices, resign or accept the mission.

Trainees were granted security clearance, with access to arial and satellite reconnaissance intelligence. It was believed that people could monitor strategic locations with more effectiveness than machines.

The program’s orbital platforms would begin with 4 astronauts, and then be expanded into command posts for 12 and then 40, empowered to make war-time decisions.

The first test flight, in November 1966, re-used a prototype Gemini capsule, the first reused space craft in history, and a mockup laboratory built from a Titan missile fuel tank. The unmanned lab remained in space until its orbit decayed 3 months later, as planned, and burned up in re-entry.

The program was ended by a new presidential administration interested in cutting the fat. What would have been America's first space station lost its funding.

Half of the MOL astronauts were transferred to a new program, the Space Shuttle.

Meanwhile, halfway around the world, there was place known by a few as Star City.

The Soviet Union built many secret cities during its time.

Founded 1960, as “Military Unit 26266 in closed townlet number one”, it was the latest in a constellation of secret places that were not on any map, populated by citizens who did not exist, to do things that did not happen.

Here, rivals to the U.S. space program trained their astronauts, in a city that did not exist east of Moscow.

The citizens who did not exist had all the things that cities did exist have, schools, post-offices, theaters, and families who dreamed of the future and the heavens.

For decades the secret city operated in the shadows, until a secret war faded away.

In the decade when a centralized closed network, the U.S.S.R., evaporated, and another emerged, the open decentralized Web, the city that did not exist reappeared.

One of the last trainees of the Soviet space program, Sergei Krikalev, was stranded in space, adrift on the Mir space station. His landing site was in a newly independent country, Kazakhstan, and negotiations began to bring him home. The last citizen of the U.S.S.R. returned home from space months later to a changed Earth.

In 2008, control was transferred to a civilian authority, which sold flights to the U.S.

Luna, Aitken Basin, Armstrong

“I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there too. How are the kids?”

“They’re happy, playing with their cousins. They’re enjoying the games I taught them. They miss you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m glad they’re doing okay. You remember Grissom Hall? I want you and the kids to take a trip to the outer boros. This is where cousin Valentin threw his reception, you remember him? Now, there’s going to be a party, and it looks like most of our friends from work are going.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Okay, sure, the kids would love that. They’ll see you, they keep asking.”

“I know. I’ll try, honey, but you know how work is, this promotion. Do something for me. No matter what, you and the kids go, even if I can’t. They’ve got all kinds of fun things planned, pack for a long weekend.”

“Okay.”

“Listen, honey, I have to go to back to work, so much to do. I’ll call you when I can. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Aleksander ended the cryptcall, and turned back to the visitor sitting in his office.

“Valentin, that was the last of the calls. I’ve posted the notice you wanted sent on the intra-office stream.

My wife knows what to do. Before we found a hiding place for her and the kids, we made up a code, even on a cryptcall, it was her idea.”

“Thank you, Aleksander. Everybody who needed to know got a call. The notice on the stream is for the minders hired by Hyperion. They’ll think this is their chance to grab everyone.

When they see all of your people going inside the Hall, the minders will take the bait.”

“There are a lot of people counting on you, your captain, all of you.

When I came here, this place, these people became my family. I met my wife here. It was good for a long time. I thought I had it made.

After what happened, after the CME, a few people found out it was because of our work on Hyperion, for “the Harvest”. The last administrator tried to do something but after they found what was left of him, that scared everyone. I’m scared too.

When we realized what happened, what choice did I have? We can’t go on like this. But I can’t protect my family like this, can’t hide them forever. Neither can the others.

A lot of good people are being used as bait, this is what it’s come to, I hate it.”

TwoTwo stopped himself from answering. He looked out of the Administrator’s office window, down at the open square in Armstrong. He wished the Captain was here to talk but he wasn’t, so he said what was on his mind.

“I came up the well, like you, to start over.

You won a job lottery and got to work the Quito Skyhook, right? You were looking at 25 years of it, honest work but that’s all there was. But one day you save your boss, and out of gratitude he gives you your shot for more. Luna.

Me, it was the service, and the Cooperative. You can say my lottery win was meeting the captain. There’s more to the story but you get the idea.

This is what I know how to do.

Not everyone can or wants to.

I can’t promise what happens, but I promise I’ll go all the way with what I can do.”

“What next?”

“Everyone you called will head to the depot deep below the Hall. Hyperion’s muscle won’t make a move until they think everyone’s inside upstairs, headed to the deck.

At the right moment, a train will take your family and the others to a station in Armstrong that’s been closed for maintenance. Nobody will see them. Not Hyperion.

When it’s over, you won’t have to hide.”

“That train runs in two directions, to Armstrong, the other way leads to Shackleton. What is the captain going to do?”

TwoTwo paused a moment before answering.

“What the captain promised. He’s never broken a promise, this I know. It’s better you don’t know the details. Everyone caught up by Hyperion will be free after it’s over.”

TwoTwo got up to leave.

“We both got a lot to do, Aleksander. As soon at it starts, you’ll get a message to leave work and be given an address. Do not go back. See you on the other end of this.”

The dignitaries melted but he stayed cool under the Texas sun.

The most powerful people in country waited for the most powerful man in the world to tell a story.

John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the U.S., gave a speech about one of Mankind's oldest dreams. The speech at Rice University Stadium was also a message to the leaders of the Soviet Union, which had an early lead that looked hard to beat. The cost and uncertainty was great but the risk of not accepting the challenge was even greater.

Kennedy told the Soviets: We're going to the Moon first. This is how, why, and when.

"We choose to go* to the moon in this decade and do the other things,*

not because they are easy, but because they are hard*,*

because that goal will serve* to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills,*

because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept,

one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win...."

Choose, admit past failure and future uncertainty, then look ahead.

"We have had our failures.

To be sure, we are behind, and will be behind for some time.

But we do not intend to stay behind we shall move ahead."

"I realize that this is an act of faith and vision,

for we do not now know what benefits await us."

Choose, commit to the cost, then move ahead.

"We're going to do it, and we must pay what needs to be paid.

And it will be done before the end of this decade."

Kennedy did not live to see Apollo 11's mission land on the moon in July 1969.

The choice was made years ago, the commitment was fulfilled.

Why do we choose to go, to do the hard things, the impossible?

The answer can be as simple as the reason George Mallory climbed Mount Everest, despite the risk and danger. When Kennedy asked him why, Mallory's answer was, "Because it is there."

We choose what follows "because".

Luna, Aitken Basin, Armstrong Core, The Square

“Are we intercepting whoever these people are, Sir?”

“We are not going toe to toe with them.”

“If we’re not taking care of these minders, muscle hired by the project, then what is the plan?”, asked Tommy. She picked up a device, broke it down, and reassembled it.

“We’re going to kill the loved ones the minders are looking for.”

“Excuse me?” Tommy put the device back on the rack. She stared at the Captain.

“Who else can we bring in, TwoTwo? Tommy said you could bring them in. We’ll need them all.”

TwoTwo looked at the captain, and studied his eyes.

“I’ll get everyone.”

“Good. Have everyone fall in, at some place new, tonight. I need to talk with Tommy.”

TwoTwo looked at the captain, and then Tommy one more time before leaving.

Tommy waited for TwoTwo to leave.

“What are we doing here? Edward, I didn’t leave the shipyard to kill innocent civvies. You do remember why I got my discharge but no pension, right?”

“I do remember, I’m the reason you’re here and not in a cell for the next 20 years. Yes, I know you hate being reminded of that.

Tomassina, the people watching and looking for the families of Hyperion workers don’t know about us. We’re going to keep that advantage for as long as we can.

We’re going to make the people watching these civvies are going to run for it.

Let me show you.”

The captain pulled a board from the shelf, pushed a pile of clothes and half-empty food cartons off a table, and laid the board flat on it.

A map of Armstrong glowed over the board.

“This is Armstrong’s grid.

We’re going to set up a gathering of everyone holding these black “Harvest” cards, including their families, loved ones. They didn’t realize what they signed up for when they joined the Hyperion Project with promises of the good life.

There’s a building in the outer boros, Grissom Hall, it has some interesting features, including a landing deck.”

“And what, we evac all of them off the deck? I can get a ship from the yard but hired muscle, security from Hyperion, will stop it before it takes off.”

“Tommy, we’re not going to evac them off the pad at Grissom Hall.

See this rail line that runs from Armstrong? It passes through the outer boros, with a depot right under Grissom Hall.

We’re going to hijack 2 trains that run on the rail line underneath Grissom.

One is going to be packed with civvies, and we’re going to send them where nobody expects them, right here, The Square.

The Square is covered with emergency shelters, and TwoTwo’s crew can watch over them and hide them in his hideouts and bolt-holes all over Armstrong.

You, me, and a few others are going to take the other train and go in the other direction, away from Armstrong. You see where this line runs to?”

Tommy half-guessed the answer but checked the map.

“Where ever Hyperion is.”

“That’s right. The Hyperion Project is perched on Shackleton Crater. They’re busy getting ready for their ship, the ‘Harvest’, to return from its pilot test at the Sun.

We’re going to Shackleton before the ‘Harvest’ lands.”

“You said we need a ship for Grissom. If we’re not evac’ing the civvies on it, why?”

“Aleksander, the administrator, will get the word to certain people about this meeting of all the families of HRVST workers at Grissom Hall.

The truth is the meeting place is the rail depot under Grissom.

That message about the meeting will be leaked to Aleksander’s Hyperion minders.

After Hyperion finds out, they will send its security muscle to Grissom, and when they see a ship headed to the deck, they’ll think the civvies are going to use it.

They’ll move to grab the civvies at the deck. They will chase fake heat signatures we will scatter inside the Hall, leading to the deck. We’ll draw Hyperion’s muscle into the stairwells and shafts leading from the Hall to the deck.

Then, we’re going to box the hired muscle in, and drop a ship on top of them.

Before we drop the ship, those families and workers are riding back to Armstrong.”

Tommy smiled at the captain.

“This is why you found me at the shipyard and got me to find TwoTwo and the others.”

“I told Aleksander that nothing was going to happen to his family, or to the others who got sucked into working on Hyperion.

I still have to find out what happened to the Ledger, the original reason I’m up here.

Let’s get to work.”