Spaceship Excalibur

Low Earth Orbit

Michael was drinking a cold beer while sitting in a pilot’s chair on the Excalibur. It was no longer needed for it to be hooked up to the Ascension; hundreds of MIs installed though it were responsible for the day-to-day workings of the massive City-ship. Besides, Max had mentioned how Ares needed to have more human interaction and learn about responsibility, so the young AI was given the assignment to supervise it all.

He took the spaceship out because he wanted to be alone for a while. It seemed to him that recently, he was no longer the master of his own time. Everybody wanted a minute of it, but a day had a finite amount of them. Daily meetings, incessant questions about his opinion on things, making decisions that had a great impact on people's lives. He was slowly turning into that hideous life form he always had an aversion to—a politician.

And so, he flew the Excalibur out of the bay, parked it close to the Earth and… relaxed, enjoying the view and the eternal tranquility of the place. Max received a specific instruction in case someone was looking for him. He was to tell everyone that Michael was unavailable unless it was a life or death situation… except if it was Elizabeth, she had the authorization to reach him anytime.

The image of Earth from this perspective moved him every single time he saw it, so beautiful and fragile. The old girl was constantly under attack from the very beings it nurtured into existence. Still, it was a good place to find some solitude and unwind. Well, it would be if his mind would stop thinking about all the things they had done. So much was finished in such a short amount of time. Yet, that drive from the inside of him was still pushing him onward, in fear that if they stopped, that forward momentum would vanish. Where would they be then?

Almost six months have passed since they retrieved the heavy memory block and the AI-core from the bottom of the Mariana Trench. There was only a small problem of activating the mind held inside. It needed many support systems, and the only ones available that could run it was Max’s. The AI had no intention to turn himself off, just to see who was stored in it.

Ares ran on a completely different computational structure, one that was mainly based on Earth technology, so there was no way to jury rig something on the fly. Therefore, Max first needed to analyze his own systems to a molecular level and then duplicate it for the additional AI-core. He certainly did not want to mess anything up, so he took every precaution and did the whole thing excruciatingly slowly. By his estimates, it would not be long before he was finished, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

He caught himself a few times thinking about the answers that AI could give them, before being pulled back from his daydreams to deal with some new problem in real life.

The big memory cube was left mostly undisturbed. What little examination Max did confirm that it had anti-tampering safeguards; mess with it enough and it would erase itself, which was the last thing they all wanted.

The Ascension itself went through some major changes in recent months. All levels were now fully finished, and the main one had that feel of a small town. More than twenty-five thousand people now called the City-ship their home, making a life for themselves and their families in space.

Many restaurants with all types of world cuisine were opened; in fact, Elizabeth and he had already visited several. In his opinion, they were comparable with the best ones he ever visited on Earth. It was nice being able to go out in the evening, but at the same time a bit annoying. Everywhere they went, people looked up to him as if he was some sort of a national hero.

Commander Dax, who with his family emigrated to the Solarian Union, told him that he should bask in it while he could as the fame fades with time. Well, Dax was an astronaut, even had a patch to confirm it, and had to endure his share of fame throughout his career. All the same, most of the time he went to the food court for a meal; it had a good selection and people were usually too busy eating themselves to bother him.

The Promenade, where all the restaurants were located, had all sorts of new establishments. So far, they had several movie theaters, numerous shops, and there was even talk about opening a proper mall. It helped that the Promenade was several miles long, so there is still more than plenty of space to expand, and they were effectively using only a third of it.

Every day, new faces could be seen on the ship. Jack’s recruitment efforts and their immigration policy were going at full steam. People were coming from all over the world, to be a part of the new future they were building. The immigration process was thorough and invasive, and that was the reason why they found many spies, every once in a while.

The Solarian Union was even polite when that happened, returning them back to the Earth… alive. Al suggested that a better lesson for their handlers would be to drop them down from orbit. In all fairness, Max may have dropped a few in some godforsaken places on Earth… nude, but unharmed. What is more, he even went so far to make a TV show about it.

Those who sent them wanted Solarian Union’s advanced technology and were persistent to the point of absurdity. The amounts of money they were offering for its acquisition were obscene. So far, they didn’t get one single bite, which made sense since Max compartmentalized everything. Besides Ares and him, nobody exactly knew how things worked. That didn’t mean that certain things were unknown to Earthers, the name by which everybody on the Ascension started calling those below.

Kids that were connected to many popular social sites, didn’t really care about security protocols and ‘need to know’ mentality. So, the secrets of CEI implants were out, as well as the AutoDocs, and artificial gravity. Those in power already knew about Max and Ares; they connected a few dots and drew a bigger picture. Nevertheless, it was one thing knowing about something, and quite another being capable of replicating it.

The nanites were simply not discussed; Michael’s worst nightmare was that the knowledge about them would leak out. That is why it was almost an unwritten law that no one possessing medical nanites in their body was allowed back to Earth unless they were purged from them first.

Most Earthers wanted Cerebral Enhancer Implants, it was a new wondrous tech gadget that they heard about, but the one they could not have. It was a phone, a computer, an entertainment system, and a personal assistant all in one—in your head.

Of course, it was so much more than that, but they sure had no intentions to educate them. Even some heads of states tried to use their connection with Michael to acquire one. Well, there was a plan to make them available for the general Earth’s population, yet that was tied in with one of Michael’s plans, which was still under development. It was not just yet the right time to propose that particular deal to Earth’s governments.

There were multiple attempts to hack into CEIs, especially those that belonged to the teenagers whose lives were inseparable from social networks. But with all the safeguards that Max had installed into them—it was impossible, and Ares got a kick out of going after the perpetrators. Cleaning out their accounts, erasing their identities and getting them in the heap of trouble. It was Max’s way of teaching the young AI about the cause and consequences of actions.

Meanwhile, most of the Solarian Union citizens already had their own implants; a somewhat lesser version of the one that was in Michael’s, and the team’s heads, but still light years ahead of the current Earth’s tech. By Max’s figures, more than 90% of all adults older than sixteen went through with the procedure. That was the age of the cutoff; any earlier and it was deemed it could impede their personal growth. It was the age when they became legal adults, with all the rights and obligations that entailed.

Solarian bank now had a real office, with a sign and everything. Michael didn’t understand at first why Max built it since everything was done electronically. Then Max explained that it was for the new immigrants who felt more reassured if there was an actual person they dealt with when they were transferring all their financial assets from Earth.

He took another sip of beer and pondered the fate of Philip Cain, sailing on his way to the Andromeda galaxy. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought that someday, in a far distant future, some alien civilization in Andromeda will find them as they pass through their system. They will probably try to comprehend the mystery of why someone would be crazy enough to set on such a voyage without a ship’s engine.

He didn’t feel even a morsel of regret for the ‘High Council’s fate, with all sins on their souls, they should be heading straight to hell. Max had done a splendid job of appropriating almost all of the ‘High Council’s assets; the final count was more than a trillion dollars in liquid assets and many times more than that in the real estate. If anything, the Solarian Union was financially secure for the time being.

In the end, he had to inform President Craig Garner of his rival’s whereabouts. The problem was that the President had nightmares about Vice President Cain coming back and paralyzing him again. After he shared that with Michael, he told him everything, under a solemn promise that he would carry that secret to his grave. He even displayed him the video file of their last conversation and then had to wait a few minutes for President Garner to stop laughing. Afterward, Michael arranged a small gift to be given to the President; a crystal paperweight in the shape of Philip Cain’s modified transporter prison. Every time President Garner made a public address from the Oval Office, he could see that same paperweight standing on the Resolute desk.

Michael smiled again, thinking about the show Elizabeth and he watched last night. It was Survivor: drug cartel edition, in its second season. The new desert island natives managed to make a small village in the center of it; with bamboo and mud huts. As far as reality television goes, this was as real as it could be. For all that, there was already a split in the group; which wasn’t that unexpected. Some of the prisoners accepted their new lives and were settling into a more domesticated way of life. It was human nature really, to want some stability no matter the circumstances. On the other hand, Diego Garcia, the head honcho, was mostly sad; spending the days beside his cocaine, and reading the Lord of the Flies, repeatedly. There were bets on the Ascension, revolving about how long he would last before he finally broke and joined that, more romantically inclined part of the group—he had a lot of offers.

One of the most annoying things, concerning his personal view of himself, was that he has stopped being the old plain Michael Freeman. Apparently, the person in charge of the Solarian Union needed to have a title that goes before his name. He personally didn’t see the reason but was outvoted by everyone else. Many suggestions were offered; from the Emperor, King, President, Chairman, Master chef … the list was very long. Finally, choosing a lesser of many evils, Michael settled on the title of a Leader. Now he was known as the Leader of the Solarian Union, Michael Freeman. The whole thing sounded so pompous to someone who still saw himself as one more ex-soldier, yet, fighting it was an exercise in futility.

“Michael, I know this is your ‘personal time’ when you contemplate the meaning of life, and it is still not forty-two, just if you were wondering,” Max’s voice sounded through ship speakers, “but they really need you back on the Ascension. Another meeting is about to start and you know they will not move forward without your approval,” The AI said.

Michael glanced at the semitransparent watch on the edge of his vision and realized he spent three hours looking at the rotating Earth.

“All right, let’s go home. What is this one about?” He gloomily asked.

“Oh, we have a little bit of everything; general rules and regulations, the civilian population, agriculture, business interests, laws and statutes, formal policies… you know, all the fun stuff. Since you managed to dodge the last meeting, now you will have the pleasure of doing twice the work.” The AI said menacingly.

Michael groaned, and made the face as if he bit into something sour. “Max… I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Leader Michael Freeman, bitch all you want, but you have responsibilities now,” The AI said and showed his image on the holo-screen. “But you are all grown up, so put on your big boy pants, and get to work.”

Michael showed the AI a very rude gesture, using one particular finger on his right hand.

“Drive, chauffeur… no talking.” He said while imitating Napoleon’s pose with his hand tucked to the side of his shirt.

The ship engaged its Gravity-drive and speedily moved away from Earth, aiming towards the brightest star in the sky. Just before entering the Ascension, he glanced once again at the bottom of the ship that was turned towards Earth. The red logo on it was so out of place that he was struck speechless the first time he saw it.

It all began when Emma said that a gigantic flying saucer in Earth’s orbit was going to cause a constant feeling of anxiety to many people on the planet. They had grown up with the movies about alien attacks, and in their minds flying saucer was not something benign. Max’s idea to make the Ascension in this particular shape was not the best he ever had. It was an object engraved in the human subconscious mind as the one that brought probes carrying antagonists, which were up to no good. It did not make a lot of sense, but all the City-ship’s psychologists agreed upon it.

To defuse the negative psychological impact, they had to change the very perception of the ship. Michael still wasn’t sure if what they came up with was the right thing, but the deed was done and all the contracts were signed.

Max got in touch with the Coca-Cola Company marketing director, and through him with the entire Board of Directors. Somehow, they came to an agreement, and now the whole bottom of the Ascension was one big Coca-Cola logo sign; a red and white, mile-long advertisement. The reasoning behind it was that more than 90% of Earth’s population recognize the red and white logo and they couldn’t really be scared of such a familiar image when anyone on the planet can take a telescope and look at it. The company even started a big marketing campaign with the City-ship and the sign as the focus point. There were commercials and posters everywhere, even a free keychain with a small model of the City-ship, if one bought a six-pack. They played a short jingle if you pressed a button.

Max, snickering while telling it, found out that the whole Pepsi marketing team was fired for missing such an opportunity. By any standards, the deal he made was a doozy—those were his actual words. The Coca-Cola Company didn’t have to pay a cent for it since only two small paragraphs in the contract were what Max was after. First was to get their secret formula, which he was obliged not to divulge to anyone, and the second, he gained the rights to make the soda drink in question for all the Solarian Union residents… in perpetuity, with the condition that he wouldn’t sell it on Earth.

They should have read the small print as Max could distribute it everywhere else. Currently, that meant only the ship, but in time… Michael realized it was one of the worst deals Coca-Cola ever made if judging by Max’s snickering.

The logo needed to be there for the next five years, after which it could be taken down or turned off, since it was holographic anyway.

Michael shook his head as the Excalibur descended into the Ascension’s landing bay. So much for his time off, he needed to get back to work.