Dreams of Ithaca Read online

  “He died on a Tuesday. I found out on Wednesday. I called to offer you a job on Thursday. They confirmed me as President and CEO on Friday. You didn’t get back to me for over a week.”

  “Yeah, I was too busy comforting your family, Col.” Ty’s voice rose to a crescendo. “Your Dad wasn’t even in the ground yet and you were already moving to make your mark. I loved him, too, you know. He was a hard man. Ruthless, but good.”

  Ramsey dismissed the criticism with a dispassionate wave of his glass. “That’s not my point, Ty. My point is that you were the first person on my list, even then. Of all the brilliant people I’ve personally recruited in the last six years, you were the very first name on the list. I made you COO in addition to your scientific responsibilities when I realized how well your baffling choice of specialization prepared you to understand even our most complex systems.” Ramsey uncrossed his legs and leaned forward on the couch. “And since that appointment there hasn’t been a single day that I have had to worry about the efficiency or thoroughness of this organization’s operations.”

  The tension eased out of Ty’s shoulders. His mouth was still set, but the suspicion in his eyes had turned into quiet thoughtfulness. He looked down through the floor window as he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

  Ramsey eased back in his chair to mirror Ty’s shifting posture. “And somehow, despite the near-flawlessness with which you’ve run the operations, it was still you who had the time and insight to develop the mathematics to model the entirety of the Earth system with an unprecedented level of interconnectivity and precision. If it weren’t for that, Ty, we would still be oblivious to how bad things are about to get down there.” He motioned to the Earth as it rotated into view again. “So, the point is I really mean it when I say you are the smartest person I’ve ever met. You’re the only person I trust implicitly. You’re my only peer.”

  Ty held up his hand. “You’re laying it on a bit thick.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Really? I don’t like it. It’s very disconcerting.”

  “I agree. It doesn’t suit me.”

  Ty laughed. Mission accomplished. Ramsey managed a chuckle.

  “You still haven’t told me what this is about,” said Ty, picking up his glass again. “Although, this is, without doubt, the nicest I’ve ever seen you, so I guess I should be afraid to ask.”

  Ramsey took a deep breath. “We have a plan for almost everything we need to build the ship. The last big hurdle there is the Alcubierre drive, which will allow us to warp space-time and travel at superluminal speeds.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. Cryo was one thing, now you’re telling me you’re on the verge of unlocking faster-than-light travel?”

  “Well, it’s not strictly FTL. The principle is to warp space-time around you and, essentially, ride through it like a relativistically neutral surfboard riding a superluminal wave.”

  “I didn’t think that was really possible. So, you’re talking about, essentially, a warp drive?”

  Ramsey gritted his teeth, “Yes, essentially, a warp drive. But that’s not what it’s called. It’s called an Alcubierre drive, and I’m in the process of inventing two new kinds of math to make the original idea viable.”

  “Fine. So, what’s the ask? You want me to help you build it? I fail to see how I’m qualified.”

  “You’re not. There are, at most, three other people in the world who might be able to help with this project, and two of them are already on my team.” Ramsey cleared his throat. “That is the last major hurdle standing between us and CIV being technologically viable. But there’s one more piece of the puzzle that this mission is missing…” He let the suggestion hang.

  Ty began to nod slowly. His eyes closed. “The target world.”

  “Indeed. I want you to lead the team to find it.”

  Ty chewed on his lower lip, rotating the glass around in his hand. “I hate to repeat myself, but I still fail to see how I’m qualified.”

  “Our evolution as a species is interwoven with the history of this particular planet. We learned in our attempts to colonize Mars last century that human beings do not thrive long-term in environments radically different from that of our home. We need to find not just any other habitable world, but as damn near to an Earth twin as we can to give the survivors of our species their best chance to thrive.”

  “Right… so what does that have to do with me?”

  “You understand this planet better than anyone in history, Ty. For all the flak I’ve given you over the years, your understanding of the Earth’s systems is almost instinctive. The odds of us finding an exact match are practically nil, so I need you to find and analyze our top candidates with the same level of detail and expertise with which you understand Earth.”

  Ty smirked. “It took me twelve years to realize that this planet was in trouble, and I could walk on its surface, breathe its air, drink its water, watch its weather patterns shift with my own eyes. How am I supposed to figure out the solution to a problem where I don’t even know all the variables from dozens, or hundreds, of light-years away?”

  “I’ve already assembled the team. Experts in spectrography and orbital dynamics, physicists, xenobiologists, et cetera. They’ll get you all the data they can. But you’re the only one I trust to analyze it and make the decision.”

  Ty ran his fingers through his short, black hair. “Holy shit.”

  “I need you, Ty.” Ramsey filled his voice with all the sincerity he could muster. “I need you to find Ithaca.”

  “Ithaca?”

  “That’s what we’re going to call it. The adoptive home of the human race.”

  “So that makes you, what? Odysseus?”

  Ramsey shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Didn’t everyone else in The Odyssey die?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Doesn’t send a great message, though, does it?”

  “People don’t read, Ty. Most people these days have no idea what The Odyssey is about. We’re going on an epic journey across a vast ocean, the victorious survivors. That was all Odysseus wanted -- to get home to Ithaca. But, I suppose, unlike that mythological ‘man of twists and turns,’ we will lead our people safely home.” He stared into Ty’s eyes. “If you help me.”

  Ty sighed and looked away, fidgeting with his watch absentmindedly. He chewed on his lip again, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for the now surely inevitable answer.

  Ramsey brushed the edge of his glass with his thumb, his gaze resting on the viscous amber liquor inside of it. He willed the answer to come.

  Finally, Ty sighed. “One condition.”

  Ramsey tried to conceal his anticipation. “Name it.”

  “Clara and Izzy. Give me your word that they’ll be on CIV. That they’ll go to Ithaca.”

  Ramsey smiled and stood, raising his glass. Ty followed suit. “To Ithaca, the future home of the human race. To Dr. Daniels, who will find it. And to his family, the first to be chosen for our great Odyssey across the stars.”

  “To Ithaca.”

  2

  Reaction

  En Route To Ithaca - Year 2 of 504

  In the darkness of Ramsey’s reawakening mind, an invisible chorus of angels sang a terrible and beautiful melody. Though the words were in no human language Ramsey could identify, he was sure they sang of the beauty of Ithaca, her flowing rivers, grassy plains, and shaded woods.

  What else could it be?

  In this nowhere place between cryosleep and the waking world, he wasn’t sure if he had a body; he could neither move nor speak.

  The angel song twisted, and the sound became red. Even in this not-yet conscious state, Ramsey knew that that perception didn’t make sense. Nevertheless, the red song continued, like a dawn beginning to break, though there was neither sun, nor landscape for sun to shine upon, nor eyes with which to see it.

  A bolt of lightning seared through his emerging senses. The red grew blacker as the angel song grew more dissonant and sinister.

  Ramsey hurt.

  The chorus grew louder, more ferocious. White hot irons pierced the body he didn’t have in that place that was nowhere.

  The structure of the angel song faded and disintegrated until it was no longer a heavenly chorus, but a hellish cacophony.

  The black-red burned hotter, until it was like staring into the sun, but Ramsey had no eyes to close against the agonizing brightness.

  And then, it stopped. And Ramsey had a body.

  It hurt everywhere. The last screeches of his awakening echoed in his ears and the inside of his eyelids danced with blue and yellow dots.

  He blinked his eyes open. He was in a vaguely blue, dimly lit cryo tube, propped up almost-vertically, and about as roomy as a coffin. Through the transparent strip of glass in front of his face, a man of about Ramsey’s age with pale skin and a thick, blonde beard stared at him. “Are you alright? You seem to be experiencing some discomfort.”

  Ramsey massaged the pulsating migraine behind his temples. “Just let me out.”

  A moment later the door to the cryo chamber opened, two halves rotating back against the sides of the vertical chamber. Ramsey buried his face in the crook of his elbow, the flooding light shooting up his optic nerve and exacerbating the fire in his brain. Through squinting eyelids he stepped out into the crew cryo module.

  “Before you go, I have tests I need to perform to ensure that the Somnithaw has been flushed from your system,” said the man. “It’s just standard procedure.”

  “Not for me, it isn’t.” Ramsey squinted as he made his way to the door across the undulating floor.

  “Apologies, sir, but you can’t even walk straight. I think you should let me conduct t
he test.”

  Ramsey managed to summon the name, but did not turn to face the man. “Listen, Tyler. I’m not going to do that. Do not ask me again.” He found the door and exited into the hallway, the silence that followed carried Tyler’s implicit acceptance of Ramsey’s terms.

  That was good.

  He needed space to think without an inferior trying to analyze him.

  Whatever had happened, he would deal with it on his own.

  Only five hundred years to go, after all.

  Everything would be fine… as long as whatever-this-was didn’t get any worse.

  3

  Technicians

  9 March 2205 CE - 9 Years Before Departure

  Ramsey was going to kill Ty. There was no way he was actually this stupid. There was no way he actually thought this recommendation was the best option. There was no way he thought this would be possible.

  Ty had given up. Already. That was the only reasonable explanation. It was unacceptable. Ramsey fumed with hot fury as he approached Ty’s quarters. He pounded his fists on the hard, white, metaplastic door. The overhead light flickered with each strike of his hand. Ramsey paced, muttering curses under his breath. He stopped and smacked his palm against the door in a rapid staccato, and almost fell through the doorway when it opened.

  Ramsey drew breath to begin laying into Ty when he realized that it was not his Dr. Daniels, but Ty’s wife, Dr. Clara Daniels, wide-eyed, bath-robed, and tousle-haired standing before him. He lowered the accusatory finger he didn’t remember raising and fumbled for the proper response.

  Clara spoke first, her usually mild French accent slightly more pronounced in her disheveled state. “Colin? What in the world are you doing? It is not yet four in the morning!” The disgust in her voice mirrored the indignation and incredulity in her eyes.

  He had forgotten to check the time. “Er… yes. Sorry to bother you so early, Clara, but I needed to discuss something with Ty.”

  She stared at him, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “It’s 3:54 in the morning! On a Saturday!”

  Ramsey had quit clocks when he moved to space. Day and night were arbitrary there, anyway. He trusted his internal clock over mechanical ones. He slept when he was tired, ate when he was hungry, and worked until his eyes went blurry. “I… didn’t realize.” He stood his ground.

  Clara sighed in acquiescence. “Well, come in.” She stepped to the side and gestured to the living room.

  “Thank you.” Ramsey stepped in before she could change her mind.

  “Ty is trying to get Izzy back to sleep,” said Clara, throwing a sidelong glance of accusation at Ramsey as the door slid shut behind her. “I’ll get him.”

  Ramsey nodded as Clara disappeared into the hallway.

  The Daniels’ quarters were laid out in a mirror image to Ramsey’s. The standard issue furniture and appliances were identical to his, but the homely charm that had been applied to the otherwise sterile environment made it clear that a family, not a bachelor, lived here.

  Not that Ramsey minded being a bachelor. In fact, he was decidedly in favor of remaining one forever. He had gone on a few dates every now and then with brilliant and beautiful women, whom he liked well enough. But someone else had always set him up, and he had never been willing to call on anyone a second time. It bored him. His heart belonged elsewhere.

  His focus and work ethic had earned him his current position as CEO of his father’s company. Some people - jealous people, mostly - accused him of only having achieved success because all of his accomplishments were handed to him. Such was the curse of inheriting a family business. But even at thirty-one years old, Ramsey had proven to himself and to all but the worst of the naysayers that his genius, his vision, his wisdom, and his ambition were his own.

  He was going to do it. His confidence increased day by day. CIV would be built. On time. Under budget. Above spec.

  Unfortunately, yes, certain nations had destabilized in the aftermath of his announcement. But this was a time in history for the weak to crumble and the strong to show their strength. That meant change, and upheaval for those who lacked the ability to endure it. But such things were natural, and, ultimately, only a minor setback on his path toward immortality.

  Yes, immortality. Because that, in truth, was what he was accomplishing. There are those few names nearly everyone knows. Adolf Hitler, Jesus of Nazareth, Julius Caesar. These rare few men were the only humans who had ever achieved the closest thing to immortality: preservation in history. Preservation that endured beyond their own contemporary context.

  And before too long, the first name on anyone’s list of key figures in history would be Dr. Colin Ramsey, the man who saved the human race and brought them to their new home world. And in the far future of humanity, when the last memories of the Alexander the Greats and Aristotles and Prophet Mohammeds of Earth faded away, the name of Ramsey would still be sung, remembered, and honored as the one who brought salvation to the human race.

  At least, that was what he had thought before Ty’s recommendation for a target world had come across his desk.

  “What’s this about, Colin?” Ty said as he entered the room. The irritation radiated off of him.

  Ramsey, suddenly aware of the fact that he had been staring at a dirty pan in the sink while dreaming of his immortalization, turned to face his friend.

  It had barely been three months since the announcement, but Ty looked like he had aged years. He had gained a noticeable amount of weight: his long-ago trim physique had previously been replaced over the years with a slightly pudgier version, and that version had now been replaced by a downright husky, unshaven, swollen-eyed man.

  “You look awful.” Ramsey couldn’t keep the hint of disgust from his voice.

  “Well, if you wanted to see me at my best, this was not the time of day to come. Because we human beings are generally, you know, asleep at this hour.”

  “Clara already said that, and I’m in no mood to be lectured.”

  Ty crossed his arms. “And I was in no mood to be woken up in the middle of the night.”

  “Well, you should have thought of that sooner.”

  Ty raised an incredulous eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about? How is this my fault?”

  “Oh please,” Ramsey spat. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, I’m assuming it has something to do with the target planet I identified, but-”

  “Oh, it’s coming to you now, is it?” Ramsey scoffed.

  “It’s an Earth twin, Colin!” Ty shouted, “Our very first conversation about this you said, ‘We need to find as damn near an Earth twin as we can,’ and I found it in half the time you gave me for the project. So what’s the problem?”

  Ramsey found himself breathing hard. He looked away from Ty and stalked through the room, running his hands through his hair. “It’s twelve thousand light years away, Ty. Twelve. Thousand. Light years.”

  “Okay, so it’s a little farther away than you were hoping for. So what? We’re going to have FTL travel.”

  “Right, but it’s not teleportation. We still have to physically cross the distance.”

  “I know that.”

  “It’s going to take four hundred years, minimum, to get there at the maximum theoretical output of the Alcubierre drive. More realistically, five or six hundred.”

  “Right, but it will all feel the same in cryo, won’t it?”

  Ramsey spun back toward Ty, making every effort to keep his voice level. “Yes, Ty, but not everyone is going to be in cryo.”

  Ty’s eyebrows narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Ramsey chewed on his tongue, then motioned to the couches. “Sit.” He rounded the couch and sat himself down. Ty sat on the other a moment later. “When CIV is finished,” Ramsey began, “it will be the most advanced piece of technology our planet has ever produced. The math for the Alcubierre drive alone is decades, if not centuries ahead of its time. I barely understand it and I invented it. Add the layers of complexity of radiation shielding, cryogenics, and a rotational axis to keep the simulated gravity going, and it’s just not a system you can set and forget for a week, let alone four years, or,” he paused and scoffed, “five hundred years.”