Ben Bova - New Earth

And now the second phase of the greenhouse warming was sweeping across the world, drowning cities, reshaping continents, killing millions and driving still more millions into refugee camps or aimless migrations across what was left of civilization.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Startled, she turned to see Douglas Stavenger smiling at her. Like her, Stavenger’s body was filled with nanomachines. Like her, he appeared strong and youthful, a handsome man of middle years, broad of shoulder and flat in the middle. Unlike her, Stavenger had filled his long life with service to the city-state of Selene, first as head of its governing council, later as the éminence gris who gently but firmly pulled the strings behind the scenes.

“I don’t know why I torture myself staring at it,” Halleck admitted.

Stavenger cocked his head slightly to one side, his version of a shrug. “It’s home,” he said. “It always will be, no matter how long we stay away.”

She knew that he had not made his way to this observatory and bumped into her by accident.

“Felicia Ionescu called on me this morning. She’s come here, to Selene,” she said.

Stavenger said, “So I heard.”

“She wants to get the second mission to Sirius C funded.”

With the ghost of a smile, Stavenger said, “I wish her well, but…” He let the thought dangle, unspoken.

“Chiang is dead set against it,” Halleck said, knowing that she was telling Stavenger a fact he already knew.

“He has a lot of responsibilities on his hands,” said Stavenger.

“I don’t know what Ionescu thinks I can do,” Halleck said. “I haven’t been active in IAA affairs for years. Decades.”

For a couple of heartbeats, Stavenger said nothing. Then, “Maybe she thinks you could help.”

Halleck shook her head. “It’d be foolish to send the backup mission before we hear from the first team. And that won’t happen for another eight years.”

“Still,” Stavenger said mildly, “it would take eight years or more to get the next mission ready to go.”

Halleck walked across the observatory’s empty floor, her steps clicking on the concrete, and sat wearily on one of the couches. Stavenger followed her, almost silent in his softboots.

“Scientists,” she said, almost scoffing. “They’re always pushing for more.”

“It’s a big universe,” said Stavenger.

“But what good is it?” she demanded. “What does it accomplish? So they explore another planet. Does that help anybody? Does that solve any real problems?”

Stavenger looked amused. “Strange question to ask, here, in this place.”

“You mean on the Moon? So what? So we’re living on the Moon. What of it?”

“We wouldn’t be here if scientists hadn’t pushed to explore.”

She looked into his handsome, fine-boned face and saw that he was amused—and dead serious.

“You think they should start the backup mission now? With all the problems on Earth? The flooding and all?”

“There are always problems on Earth. And here in Selene, too. That shouldn’t stop our push to explore.”

“Where will it end?”

“It won’t end. We keep on exploring, keep on learning. That’s where new knowledge comes from, the frontier. And new knowledge always leads to new wealth, new benefits for everyone.”

“Very philanthropic.”

“Very practical,” Stavenger corrected.

“Ionescu will never be able to convince Chiang and the others.”

“That’s why you’ve got to help her.”

“Me?”

“You. You know the political ropes. You have the energy and the drive. Do you have the guts to get back into the fight?”

Halleck stared at him.

Stavenger added, “What good is long life if you don’t work for something worth doing?”

All feeling of weight dwindled away as the winged rocketplane established a tight orbit around Sirius C. Jordan’s eyes flicked from the windscreen to the displays on the control panel while he struggled to keep his stomach from floating up into his throat. Sirius C loomed huge and lushly green outside, sliding majestically below them.

“We’re approaching the night side,” Brandon said. Needlessly, Jordan thought.

“Copy night side,” said Hazzard, from the display screen in the center of the control panel.

The planet disappeared in darkness. Not a light to be seen. Not even the laser, which was over on the daylit side now. It was as if the planet had been swallowed by some monstrous dragon, Jordan thought. Then he realized, There’s no Moon! New Earth doesn’t have a moon, not even a tiny speck of rock orbiting it. That’s a major difference from Earth. Funny I hadn’t thought of that earlier.

For more than half an hour the four men sat in silence while the control panel’s displays beeped and winked at them. Utter darkness outside, as if the planet had disappeared. Then they crossed the terminator into the daylit side. As the blazing star Sirius rose above the curved horizon they stirred into conversation again.

“It’s all forest, from pole to pole,” Meek said.

“That’s what Earth would be like,” said de Falla, “when the full effect of the global warming takes hold.”

“If it weren’t for us,” Brandon said.

Yes, Jordan thought. The human race has altered the face of Earth far beyond nature’s strictures. Even the tropical rain forests that were once thought to be untouched Edens have been shaped and transformed by human tribes for long millennia.

Looking past the curving rim of the planet, with its sliver of bright blue atmosphere, Jordan squinted at distant Sirius, this world’s sun, glaring a hot blue-white against the darkness of space. Not far from the star was a smaller sphere, little more than a brilliant dot, but almost as bright as Sirius itself. The Pup, Jordan realized. Sirius’s dwarf star companion.

“Retroburn in one minute,” said Hazzard, all business.

“Copy retroburn,” Brandon answered, aping the astronaut’s clipped manner.

One of the screens on the control panel lit up to show Thornberry’s jowly face. “Good luck, lads,” he said, his usual grin replaced by utter seriousness.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Jordan replied, trying to mask his own inner tension.

The retrorockets fired and the sudden feeling of weight was welcome. Jordan watched through the windscreen as the heavily forested planet came up to meet them. He remembered the first time he had flown an airplane solo, how suddenly menacing the trees around the airport became.

“Plasma blackout coming up,” Hazzard warned.

They were entering the planet’s atmosphere now, dipping into the upper fringes of the air at hypersonic speed. Lights flickered out there, Jordan saw, dancing little fireflies at first but within moments the ship was engulfed in the blazing reds and yellows of air heated to incandescence. He heard the ferocious roar of wind even through the heavy insulation of the cockpit as the ship began to shudder and buck.

It’s all right, Jordan told himself, gripping the edges of his seat. Perfectly normal. We’re using atmospheric friction to slow us down to a safe landing speed. Still, the craft bounced and rattled as the wind screeched into a long wailing banshee whine. Jordan felt perspiration beading his brow and upper lip. He glanced at Brandon, who sat rigidly, his fists clenched in his lap, fighting the temptation to grab the controls.