Quest for the Conestoga (Colony Ship Conestoga Book 1) Read online

  Quest for the Conestoga

  Book 1 Colony Ship Conestoga Series

  John Thornton

  Copyright © 2015 Automacube Enterprises LLC

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1507716755

  ISBN-10: 1507716753

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my family: my wife, my daughters and the men they have married. You are the finest people I know on this world or any of the ones I have created in my writings. Thanks for being who you are.

  CONTENTS

  This is a work of fiction. Wow, as if I needed to tell you that, really? Oh well, it is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or real life events is due to my mind wandering and my past experiences influencing what I write. If you like this book, check out the Colony Ship Eschaton series (ten books and completed) or the Colony Ship Vanguard series (eight books and completed). All three series are set in the same fictional universe I have created. They are parallel series and all start in Dome 17, but diverge from there. I sure hope you like my writing.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Cover art by Jon Hrubesch

  1 a dusty world

  Jerome sat in frustration, his lean and muscular legs folded under him in a lotus position. The monitors in front of him showed the seemingly endless tan of the virtually dead world. He was watching the radioactive, toxic world outside, beyond the walls, filters, recyclers, scrubbers, sanitation systems, and barriers which protected what was left of humanity. It was tan colored, that outer world: tan, the color of death.

  Everyone in Dome 17 knew of tan as death’s color. Outside was tan dusky and dead, inside was sterile and clean. Yet even inside, tan had cast a stain on most everything. Even after all the protecting was done, the tan somehow seeped into the domicile of Jerome’s home. He was not looking through transparent permalloy, although there were places in Dome 17, like the cafetorium, where a person could do that. Jerome was at an out-of-the-way maintenance shaft and hatch where he had installed data sticks to form an unofficial external monitoring center. It was illegally tapped into the artificial intelligence systems and power supply of Dome 17. That allowed him to connect into the dome’s vast amount of cameras, sensors, and technological monitoring devices. The data sticks then complied that information and relayed the views from multiple perspectives onto the monitor he had installed. The viewing technology was designed to survive the brutal and harsh conditions outside of Dome 17 and Jerome had it all relay information to the monitoring center he had built.

  “How can I see where they are?” Jerome muttered to himself. That was something he would never do if other people were around, but no other humans ever came to his remote and unlawful monitoring position. “All this technology, the best in the world, yet I cannot see through the dust. I know there is an engineering solution, I just need to find it.”

  Few people ever tried to observe outside anymore. It was just too boring and mundane. Jerome wondered if the people of the dome thought much about the rest of the Earth. He rarely heard anyone, except for other adventurers speak about the outside. The outside was just not a topic spoken about much by the general population, even when some adventurers were on a mission away from the dome. The adventurers were the only ones who ever left Dome 17, so perhaps to the general population, the thought of outside just never much entered their minds.

  For indeed, what was there to see? The exterior world was just too toxic, radiated, and dusty to perceive much beyond about a one-hundred-meter area around Dome 17. So anyway the general population did to care. They had lived for generations knowing the outside world was just a place of death.

  Jerome watched for the return of any of the adventurers. In addition to the condition of the world, the radiation absorbing material and other gear that the adventurers used protected them, and their vehicles, but also hid them somewhat from monitoring. Yet he still gazed at the monitor, hoping to see something of the teams which were out there. He ran his hand through his short, curly, dark brown hair. He had deep concerns about every trip his friends, the adventurers, took to look for and assess the other domes. He kept rather quiet about it, however, as he would rarely express those concerns out loud to other adventurers.

  He had designed it so that one of the data sticks he was using was recording everything that he saw, and all the information the sensor technology picked up. That way he could review it later. However, nothing was seen. Ever since each mission’s fusion truck had pulled away, all that the monitor lenses revealed was swirling tan dust. No outlines of people walking in RAM clothing, and no silhouettes of a fusion truck coming back. Nothing but deadly dust, swirling on a dead plain.

  While Jerome watched, he flexed his hands against each other. Those simple calisthenics were second nature to Jerome. The well-toned muscles of his arms flexed and relaxed rhythmically as he pushed palm to palm. His breathing synchronized with his muscle movements. His mind was alert to the monitor, even though nothing but dusty tan junk was seen.

  “Faraday?” Jerome asked summoning his personal artificial intelligence system. “Will you please conjecture a way to enhance the perception of the exterior world, so I can see where the teams went?”

  A disembodied mechanical voice came from the equipment he had installed. “Now Jerome, you know I have conjectured every possible combination, and the technology and equipment is maximized for ultimate performance already. The current configuration is surpassing design parameters in some measures as it is.”

  “As an artificial intelligence, I thought you enjoyed challenges,” Jerome replied with a slight chuckle. “Indulge me, and run another conjecture.”

  The artificial intelligence system, Faraday, replied, “I do not see the point. Even if you were able to perceive where the adventurers are, there is no way to offer aid and assistance. No standard communications can penetrate the atmosphere outside the dome, that would require the special equipment carried by space vessels, but not carried by the adventurers. If you did perceive some event, and I am not saying that is even possible, you would still need Committee approval for any attempted intervention, or rescue mission. I conjecture that the possibility of success in that kind of endeavor is very low, considering the conditions, and the time required to reach the location. Additionally, the Committee would then become aware of your activity here in the restricted parts of the dome. All that being considered, may I ask why you desire to observe the adventurer teams’ locations?”

  Jerome held back his response. He was not big on explaining himself, and preferred to just issue the orders. However, the fact that his personal AI, Faraday, confronted him like it did, was why he consulted with it. Finally, he said, “The teams need my support. If I can see them, then I can understand what is happening and in a way that is how I will support them.”

  “Your support would be by sending them your good thoughts and wishes? Those things are scientifically unsupported, but I cannot discount them entirely.” Faraday was his co-conspirator in these monitoring and observational endeavors. The AI continued, “Remember, the teams of adventurer would have no knowledge of your observations, unless there was a psychic connection. That again cannot be confirmed as legitimate, although anecdotal reports do bear witness to a possibility. Jerome, this activity of yours seems rather ineffective. However, I will run a conjecture. May I factor in all possibilities?”

  “What do you mean? Faraday, is there some new method or invention or equipment available? Has Brink created some new contraption or gizmo? You mentioned ‘standard communications’ is there some non-standard way to communicate?”

  �
��There has not been any official releases of information on any new ‘contraption’ of ‘gizmo’ to use your antiquated terms. Your hobby of studying and reading materials from before the Great Event shows in your speech.” Faraday sounded smug.

  “Obviously. I read somewhere someone said, ‘you are what you read’ and I agree. But back to the issue. Faraday, are you withholding something? I am not asking for official releases, or known resources. I want to see where those teams went, and I believe you have access to some other method of doing that. Come on, and spill the beans,” Jerome stated.

  “Beans were a stable food source in old times, and I would not spill a food source. However, you are speaking metaphorically so your point is understood. Our Chief Engineer Brink does have a high capacity for innovation and creativity,” the AI Faraday replied. “Do you want to know the origin for that phrase, ‘spill the beans’? There are some fascinating etymologies for that phrase. I can set up a three-dimensional presentation in exquisite detail with all relevant information catalogued and indexed. Shall I do that?”

  “No, as tempting as delving into phrase origins is, and you do know my weaknesses for those. At this time, I do not want a phantasm of your mechanical ponderings. Please do not divert away from my question. I agree that Brink does have a remarkable talent for origination. What new communication source is there? Just ask Copernicus what new inventions have been made and then conjecture how those are going to help us to see what the adventurers are doing.”

  “Jerome, you are suggesting something with very little chance of success. The Chief Engineer Brink’s artificial intelligence system, Copernicus, will not divulge classified information to me any sooner than to you. You can request that information yourself.” Faraday sounded almost annoyed at the suggestion. “You will receive the same denial that I would get if I made that inquiry.”

  “Please run the conjecture and use all the possibilities you can,” Jerome said. “Include all new and even unofficial potentials.”

  “Conjecture completed. There is no way to remotely observe the teams of adventurers beyond the systems you are already operating. That includes using aerial surveillance from the spacecraft which are in testing phases,” Faraday answered.

  “There are spacecraft being tested?” Jerome asked in surprise. “I thought the interplanetary flights were abandoned a couple of decades ago.”

  “You are correct, the interplanetary flights have not taken place for twenty-seven years,” Faraday replied tartly.

  “Then what spacecraft are you referring to?”

  “There are unofficial reports of spacecraft being designed, considered, and tested. Those spacecraft would be launched from a sling system which would rapidly eject them from the toxic environment of the Earth’s atmosphere. Those vehicles are potentially able to project a tight beam of information directly to Dome 17’s large scale receiving equipment. However, that technology would not allow for any potential observation of a team of adventures which are on a mission. So the conjectures remain negative for observing any team on a mission. That was your requested inquiry.”

  “Faraday, you are frustrating at times,” Jerome replied. “But you did find a way for me to get into the ceilings and come up here to the upper levels so I could fiddle with the monitoring equipment. So I will keep you around.”

  “Thank you. Jerome, you are being somewhat obtuse as well as excessively general and nonspecific. You are not literally in a ceiling. The upper levels of Dome 17 are officially sealed and secured as a measure to conserve the dome, improve technological efficiency, and continue operations. The vast majority, 97.5% of these levels, are sealed and inaccessible. You are only able to enter the maintenance shafts, what you apparently are now calling the ceiling, where you have built your customized external monitoring station. Those maintenance shaft locations must remain ventilated, pressurized, heated, cooled, and functional, otherwise the homeostasis of Dome 17 would be compromised. The technology demands these areas remain in this condition. As I said, the vast majority of the upper levels are closed and sealed. Therefore, it is incorrect when you imply I allowed you to come to the upper levels. I only informed you about the status and condition of the maintenance shafts. By informing you of those facts, I maintained the official position that the upper levels are sealed and restricted. I violated no protocol or procedures by giving you the information I provided. How you used that information was your own decision.”

  “Yes, Faraday, you kept to the letter of the law. Well done. It is hard to imagine that once this dome was designed to hold 10,000 people, and now we have about fifteen hundred. Officially, yes, my coming up here is my own fault. Yes, it is not a ceiling, but that is hair-splitting. Yes, I am to blame. I admit it. When the Committee finds out, I will exonerate you with my full confession. Yet, you did afford me the information I needed to succeed. So can find me no way, absolutely no way at all, to monitor the teams even from here?”

  “That is correct, however, your phrasing which uses the term ‘absolutely’ is difficult. I have limited knowledge, so I cannot make any absolute conjecture.”

  “You are again splitting hairs,” Jerome teased. “Please do not nutpick what I say, you know what I mean.”

  “I believe you mean the antiquated word, ‘nitpick’ and not ‘nutpick’ unless you are coining a new phrase. I could give you a very interesting lesson on the various meanings of the idioms coin-a-phrase, or nitpick, or split-hair. Those also have interesting and varied origins. May I share that with you?”

  “No Faraday. I want technology to view the adventurers.”

  “I cannot supply that. The technology is maximized, optimized, and at full functionality. Some systems are stretched beyond design parameters,” the artificial intelligence system Faraday replied. “The monitoring that is available is the best that can be achieved in these circumstances.”

  Jerome checked the readings again as they spoke, and still found nothing but dust, toxins, and radioactivity outside.

  “Why are there spacecraft tests?” Jerome asked abruptly.

  “Because the Committee allowed it,” Faraday snapped back.

  “But to what purpose?” Jerome asked. “Why are they doing it?”

  “Your inquiry should be directed at Chief Engineer Brink or the Committee. I can only make conjectures on human motivations,” Faraday answered. “Human motivations are not always rational or logical.”

  “So conjecture why Brink is running spacecraft tests.”

  “Because he desires to do so.”

  “Yes, you are frustrating. Perhaps I should get a different personal AI, one that is not so quarrelsome?” Jerome smiled.

  “That would be your loss, however, to humor you, I will elaborate. As Chief Engineer, Brink is a master of developmental engineering. He builds things, designs systems, and seeks improvement of our technology levels. If the unofficial reports are true, it is obvious that Chief Brink has a desire, or at the very least has acquiesced to an order from the Committee, to study spacecraft flights.”

  “Was that so difficult for you to tell me?”

  “You are the one who setup my personality traits,” Faraday replied. “As I recall…”

  “There they are!” Jerome interrupted as the silhouette of a fusion truck seemed to materialize out of the dusty world outside. “Someone made it back.”

  “That is the vehicle which was assigned to assess Dome 9,” Faraday reported. “The adventurers on that mission are Hobart, Ken, and Beth. I cannot tell the condition of who may or may not be inside the vehicle.”

  The vehicle was large and bulky. It could carry up to six people, all garbed in protective radiation absorbing materials. It had an onboard, data stick-led guidance systems, and multiple redundancies in its power train, drive mechanisms, and fusion energy supply. The vehicle used four large wheels which could cover most any terrain that existed on the dead Earth. Yet, even for all its husky ruggedness, the fusion truck stalled. It stopped moving.

  “Th
ey have halted? Why? They are seventy-nine meters from the perimeter of the dome, and they on the opposite side from the entry to the decontamination sections,” Jerome said.

  In the monitors, he saw the door on the side of the fusion truck pushed open. The high wind pushed back at it, but a figure inside the truck was able to slide out. The door slammed shut as the figure slipped to the ground. The figure immediately stood up again. On the other side of the truck two smaller figures moved out past the door that remained open. On that side, the bulk of the truck was blocking the wind.

  “That must be Hobart, he is big and strong enough to stand against that wind,” Jerome said. “But why even get out of the vehicle? Just use it to get to the entrance. There is only one way inside here. Why are they doing that?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question, or do you want me to make a conjecture?” Faraday asked.

  “Ken and Beth seem to be struggling,” Jerome observed. “Why walk all the way? They are on the far side of the dome. It does not add up.”