Chapter 2: Acquainting
Hawthorne heard his clients in quiet conversation as he walked down the spiral staircase leading to the general quarters. All except for Bradley Johnson of course. The heir was expounding loudly about one of his adventures.
"Caspian, now there's a planet. Frozen oceans, geysers spewing fountains of ice crystals clear into the upper atmosphere, and mountains that blot out the horizon for thousands of kilometers. It also has the greatest ski slopes in all the galaxy. Mount Fourestow is twice the size of Olympus Mon and has powder year round. You have to wear EVA of course at that height, but it's worth the inconvenience. With gravity .3 lighter than Earth standard you can get some truly epic air," Johnson was saying.
"There used to be a species of plant, the Caspian Arctic Rose, that grew exclusively on Mount Fourestow until the ski resorts drove them into extinction," Janice Lee informed him.
"You mean the ice briers? Those things were a nuisance. Ever jump a mogul just to crash ass first on a six inch spike buried beneath the powder? I can tell you it isn't a pretty sight. Camp Fourestow never would have been built if the ice briers hadn't been removed."
"The ice briers were on Caspian millions of years before man dreamed of interstellar flight," Janice Lee said, her voice rising from gentle scholar to evangelistic preacher. She visibly struggled to calm herself, the topic of their conversation apparently, a subject very close to her heart.
"When the Arctic Roses disappeared so did the sleet mites and other Caspian arthropods that sheltered on or were sustained by them. An entire biosphere of flora and fauna, never before encountered by man, was wiped from existence for the comfort of a very select few tourists. Species of plants and animals that could live at the tremendous height and subzero temperatures of Mount Fourestow have never been discovered since the extinction of the congelata resurrexit. An equal travesty is that they were gone before we ever got to understand how they lived there at all."
A suddenly sullen Bradley Johnson said, "Jeez Doc, they were just bugs and weeds."
"Without bugs and weeds, humanity may never had evolved. Now that Caspian has lost its sole indigenous life forms we will never know what potential they would have had," Janice Lee replied, her composure once more completely collected.
"Which is why you joined this expedition," Hawthorne said as he joined the others at the galley table. "It's an admiral ambition to protect newly found species from the predation of mankind. I still find it ironic that you should book a flight on a hunting expedition to do so professor Lee."
"Hello, Captain Hawthorne," greeted Janice Lee. "Glad to see you could join us."
"Yeah, howdy Cap" Bradley said, tipping an imaginary hat.
"Privet Kapitana" Borlov said in his gravelly voice.
Hawthorne nodded to the others and took a seat across from the astrobiologist.
"To be honest Captain, the Excelsior was the only ship on which I could procure passage to PM. I knew there was a NASA Inc. expedition destined to visit the virgin planet so I applied to be part of the pre-colonial expedition. Unfortunately, NASA Inc. and I don't exactly see eye to eye. When I told them I wanted to document and prepare protective measures for the Plethorian biosphere they rejected my application out of hand. Said the expedition already had an astrobiologist. But the truth is that NASA Inc. cannot abide anyone that might endanger their precious profit margins." There was a measure of venom in Janice Lee's voice none of them had heard until then.
Apparently oblivious to her plight, Johnson asked, "You DO know that we came here to bag some critters?"
"Of course I do, Mr. Johnson. While you men test your testosterone levels, I will be taking samples and digital recordings. I hope you don't intend to kill everything we see though."
"Not everything, Doc. Just a few trophies to say we were there first."
"Not all of us are as blood thirsty as the kid here," commandant Borlov said. "Although I will no doubt bag, as you say, an animal of interest, if any exist on PM, my primary mission is much the same as our professor's. Albeit for less altruistic purpose. I am to be a delegate for the SAA. We are not convinced that NASA Inc. has been completely forthright when disclosing the potential of newly found planets. As we have contributed substantial funds to find and colonize new worlds, we have found it prudent to make independent surveys."
"Aren't there Soviet Astronomers Association representatives in every precol expedition?" asked Hawthorne.
"Yes, but all men are corruptible. Even Russians."
"You aren't just whistling Dixie," piped Johnson, staring at Hawthorne as he spoke. The pilot stared back stoically. Inward he seethed. Bradley Johnson undoubtedly knew of Hawthorne's other illicit operations. All his clients were partial to at least parts of the smuggler's resume. The unspoken truth was that only through illegal operations could Hawthorne maintain ownership of the Excelsior. NASA Inc. controlled most honest trading vessels and routes, selfishly guarding its assets and discouraging the rise of competition. The Excelsior was one of a handful of privately owned space craft navigating the vacuum, and interstellar spacecraft were astronomically expensive to maintain. Carl Hawthorne did so by any means possible. He speculated that Johnson knew the necessity of his actions and wanted to goad him nonetheless. Hawthorne tried his best not to play the kid's game. Instead, he began to relate what little he knew of the planet's environmental conditions.
"Yes, most men are corruptible. In fact, it was an informant within the NASA Inc. from whom I got my intel for this trip. You are all aware of the illegality of this expedition. By no means are we to contact the precols. Plethora Minor is NASA Inc.' by right of finder authority. Not only could the company have us detained should we be discovered, but by law they could levy heavy fines, confiscate assets, or even push for incarceration on Old Earth."
This was no idle threat. Old Earth's atmospheric conditions had become so inhospitable that the planet's sole use was as a penal colony. Criminals lived below ground, scavenging the ghost cities abandoned by man when interstellar travel became a realization. The convicted were dropped from orbit with just enough survival gear to make it below. Then the condemned were left to their own devices. While the heavens above were patrolled by killer satellites, the governance of OE was not monitored. No one cared whether democracy or anarchy reined in the underground warrens, just so long as their occupants stayed there.
"Ouch," said Bradley Johnson, "that's harsh."
Satisfied his point had been made, Hawthorne continued, "There is also the danger of armed confrontation. Most precols are accompanied by security forces. Commandant Borlov, I'm sure you know the kind of men of which I speak."
"Yes. They will be ex-service men no doubt. Highly skilled, if not disciplined. But most dangerous of all they will be bored. A bored soldier used to combat is not someone to run across lightly. They would, how does the phrase go, shoot first and ask questions later."
"Your right, commandant. Which is why before I begin to tell you the scant information I have concerning Plethora Minor, I must reiterate. There is to be no communication between our party and that of the precols. Got it?" There were nods from everyone at the table, except Bradley Johnson.
"Got it? If anyone of you disagree with this policy, then I'll turn the Excelsior around and deliver you back to New Haven."
At this Bradley gave his assent, saying "Alright already! We all know you're some sort of high dollar smuggler and we are poachers in waiting. Ipso facto, no squealing to the pigs. I got it."
"Good," said Hawthorne. "Now here is what I know from my contact. PM was discovered via telescope thirty years ago. This was a miracle of sorts, seeing as the planetoids ringing P 72 are so numerous they often obscure sight of the star. Some night watcher on New Haven was lucky enough to find a gap in the barrier at the exact moment Plethora Minor was crossing in front of the red dwarf and Plethora Major was at its outermost apogee from the star. Spectroscopy revealed an atmosphere with high oxygen content, temperatures ranging from 26 to 44 Celsius, and the planet's estimated distance from P 72 indicated that it might be within the Goldilocks zone.
"When NASA Inc. found out about the discovery, they paid him a fortune to keep his trap shut and sent an unmanned probe to investigate. As you know from experience, at sub-light speed it takes a spacecraft ten years to travel from New Haven to PM. The probe reached PM without a hitch. It confirmed their speculations about the atmospheric contents and relative distance from P 72. Unfortunately cloud cover over PM is so dense that planetary details were veiled, and when the probe attempted to perform a landing there was some sort of malfunction. The last digital photo transmitted showed a blurred picture of what appeared to be vast fields of red vegetation."
"The flora must employ an energy storage process other than photosynthesis for the vegetation to be predominately red in color. It will be interesting to discover what type of energy conversion system the Plethorian flora employ since it clearly isn't chlorophyll," Janice mused.
"Who cares about the plants? What about the critters?" Bradley Johnson asked.
"As I told you there was no sign of animal life in the lone picture the probe sent back," said Hawthorne. He derived an obscene pleasure from the crestfallen frown that appeared on the kid's face. "You may have just pissed away twenty standard years from family and friends for nothing."
"It is certainly possible," Lee agreed. "But, the conditions observed by the P 72 probe are highly conducive for complex life. The higher oxygen content is indicative of water. The planet's size is slightly larger than Old Earth's, so depending on its composition Plethora Minor will have a gravity comparable to earth equivalent. Given its estimated age, if evolution on PM has progressed anything like Earth's then the planet's organisms will be parallel to those of the Triassic era."
"You mean like the dinosaurs in that ancient vid? Jurassic Park, I think it was called. Man, if the critters on PM are anything like those, we are going to have one hell of a trip!"
"There is no way to know what type of life evolved this far from our solar system. I was just saying that it is likely that anything we run across maybe just as epic in biological scope as the dinosaurs were to the Earth." Lee informed the excited youth. "Besides, if I recall correctly, the dinosaurs in that vid ate nearly everyone."
"Fear not milady, I will protect you," said Bradly with a wolfish grin.
Hawthorne snickered, but Borlov ignored the boast. "What of resources.
If PM mirrors Triassic era Earth, then what raw materials may we expect?" he asked. "The SAA will want me to take inventory of potential resources to compare my report with that of NASA Inc."
Reluctantly Janice Lee answered, "Without aerial mapping we cannot begin to know the geological details. But the biomass photographed suggests that there may be great quantities of petroleum. As you know petroleum is a mixture of hydrocarbons derived from the geologic transformation and decomposition of plant and animal remains. It takes hundreds of millions of years for these hydrocarbons to form. So, their presence on Plethora Minor is entirely dependent on how long there has been life there."
"Thank you for your candor, professor Lee," Borlov said. "I know it must pain you to speak of the very thing that threatens your own interest. It seems absurd to think in this day and age that such a crude commodity as petroleum is still needed. But while the combustible engine may be extinct, plastics are still in demand."
"I am not blind to the needs of humanity, commandant. As we spread across the galaxy the demand for resources will grow exponentially. I only wish that we could fulfill those demands without destroying everything around them."
"It is unfortunate. Old Earth was rendered uninhabitable by our unrestrained use of its precious resources. Planets like New Haven are only spared the same fate because they import their needs from other worlds. Uninhabitable planets are simply costlier to extract resources from than habitable ones. Plethora Minor's only hope will be if it contains nothing of use. Or, if you can convince NASA Inc., or rather their investors, that the benefits of leaving it unscathed outweigh its use. I do not envy your crusade."
For the first time during the conference Janice Lee looked less than positive about her chosen path. She sat silently gripping her now cold cup of tea. The others were quiet as well. Even Bradley had nothing to say. Although none of them said as much, they were all thinking of their less than honorable reasons for traveling to Plethora Minor. Twenty years of time debt spent for greed, hubris, and mistrust.
Lee broke the spell of melancholy spreading through the expedition saying, "I realize there is an uphill battle ahead, but it's been done before. Look at Godwana. A completely oceanic planet converted into a nature reserve. If life on PM is unique enough I'll be able to get public support to preserve at least portions of the planet's biosphere."
"I've been diving on Godwana. You should see the ammonites, shells as big as a man and colors like you have never seen. It's a beautiful place. You know what, professor Lee? I'm glad it was preserved. I hope you get the chance to do the same thing for PM," said Bradley Johnson.
"Me too," said Lee. "Let's just hope the life forms are interesting enough to grab the public's attention."
Not too interesting, thought Hawthorne. "We won't know until we get there," said the pilot. "I suggest you all catch a meal and get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow". With that he stood and after farewells returned to the cockpit. There he sat for a long time watching Plethora Minor grow on the monitor, all the while resisting the urge to switch the com station on again.
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