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    Brimstone
    Brimstone
    Brimstone
    Ebook320 pages4 hours

    Brimstone

    By Charles G. Dyer

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Helen Rogers discovers the threat of a cataclysmic asteroid impact. Her peers laugh her out of an international seminar. She lobbies rich people to sponsor an escape to Mars. Then the difficult tasks of managing people and organizing the building of a suitable spacecraft begin.
    As the asteroid approaches, the spacecraft is prepared for launch from orbit with nearly two dozen carefully selected people. On the ground, world governments can no longer hide the threat and widespread panic ensues.
    The one-way voyage through space is long and dangerous. Mars is a hostile environment that does not easily support life. No provisions are made for a return to Earth. Did the pioneers make the right choice? Read on to see how they manage...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCharles G. Dyer
    Release dateSep 21, 2014
    ISBN9781311620644
    Brimstone
    Author

    Charles G. Dyer

    Charles Dyer is a consulting engineer, former senior lecturer and former technical magazine editor. He creates 3D models to help with visualisation and realism in his writing.

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      Book preview

      Brimstone - Charles G. Dyer

      Brimstone

      Charles G. Dyer

      Copyright © 2013 Charles G. Dyer

      All rights reserved.

      ISBN-13: 9781311620644

      Smashwords Edition

      License

      Thank you for purchasing this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination. It remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

      It would be greatly appreciated if you could post a review on the site where you purchased this book.

      CONTENTS

      Chapter_One

      Chapter_Two

      Chapter_Three

      Chapter_Four

      Chapter_Five

      Chapter_Six

      Chapter_Seven

      Chapter_Eight

      Chapter_Nine

      Chapter_Ten

      Chapter_Eleven

      Chapter_Twelve

      Chapter_Thirteen

      Chapter_Fourteen

      Chapter_Fifteen

      Chapter_Sixteen

      Chapter_Seventeen

      Chapter_Eighteen

      Chapter_Nineteen

      Chapter_Twenty

      Chapter_Twenty_One

      Chapter_Twenty_Two

      Epilogue

      About_The_Author

      PROLOGUE

      Helen Rogers had never been superstitious, but Monday, January 22, 2046 started out the wrong colour. Although the weather was unseasonably warm, she thought that she had been foolish to leave her coat behind. As the day progressed, she fell deeper and deeper into a blue funk.

      The taxi driver gave her a mouthful of lip when she shouted at him for taking a wrong turn. That incident rattled her already fragile nerves. Then when she arrived at the conference centre that was hosting the International Geological Society's International Seminar, the heel broke off her shoe. Normally, she wore robust hiking boots but to look more professional, she had splashed out on high-heeled Italian court shoes and a tailored suit.

      She felt like an idiot hobbling about on one high heel. A balding Canadian delegate came to her rescue. If I was you, I'd bust the other one.

      Yeah? Thanks. She took both shoes off. I'd like to shove them down the salesman's throat. She thought it might be less noticeable if she went barefoot.

      There was not enough time to buy new ones so Helen shoved the ruined shoes into her briefcase and went to register. The tiled floor was cold despite the air-conditioning. She pointed her DoAll at the check-in machine, which duly spewed out a self-adhesive nametag. Humph, at least they got my name and qualifications right.

      She pressed the badge to her lapel, turned and bumped into somebody. Her briefcase burst open spilling broken shoes, a sandwich and all the paraphernalia she would normally have in a handbag.

      She bit her lip in an attempt to stop screaming out every profanity she had ever heard. Through a haze of tears, she scrabbled about on her knees picking up her things. Only one person had the compassion to help, and she was too upset to thank him. Painfully aware that she had attracted a lot of negative attention, she walked briskly to the ladies restroom.

      The powder room gave her little solace. The toilets were all full, and there was a line of impatient women. Helen dropped her chin to her chest and muttered, Geez, maybe I should just go home. She returned to the foyer where coffee and snacks were available for the taking. The coffee helped to settle her nerves a little as she sat on a bench against one wall and waited for the call into the auditorium.

      Two papers were presented before hers. She hardly heard what was said as she mentally went over her presentation. Around her, all the other delegates had their DoAlls open to record the proceedings and to receive any data transfers from the presenters. Some people also used their DoAlls as translators.

      At last, the master of ceremonies announced her and gave a brief synopsis of her paper. She thanked him and began telling the audience about the findings of her research on the geology and composition of two large asteroids. Although the main theme of the seminar was volcanism, the programme included a variety of other topics of geological interest. She expounded the merits of further exploration and the viability of exploiting the mineral wealth of the entire asteroid belt.

      The delegates were receptive until she switched to her pet subject. While I was studying the asteroid belt, I noticed an anomaly. It is a huge body of about eight hundred kilometres in diameter, made up predominantly of iron. It has not been recorded before and it is not following the common orbit of the other asteroids. It will collide with…

      Widespread laughter from the audience rudely interrupted her. She turned open-mouthed on the master of ceremonies, What the hell is going on?

      Beats me, he shrugged and called for order.

      Helen tried to continue but then the heckling began. The longer she remained on stage, the more voluble it became. Cutting personal comments and jeering soon forced her to flee in tears.

      ~#~

      Worst of all was the fact that Helen could not understand why the delegates had turned nasty. She had not even begun to explain her theory and she had not transferred the relevant data to their DoAlls. Nothing made any sense to her. Her chance to make an impression on her peers was gone and with it, her credibility as a scientist.

      On returning to the office, Helen's stony-faced employer listened to her tale of woe. He already knew about the incident but was prepared to give her a few minutes to explain herself. At last, he cut in, You've brought disgrace to this firm. Years of reputation building have been shot to hell thanks to your mess. You have fifteen minutes to clear out your office. You're fired, Miss Rogers!

      He called in the pay clerk to transfer a severance package into Helen's DoAll. The clerk also had instructions to stand over her and ensure that she did no further damage to the company or its assets. She was too shocked to speak.

      ~#~

      Jennifer Pringle sipped her coffee, Are you feeling better now?

      Helen nodded, Yeah, thanks for listening. You do believe what I said about the asteroid, don't you?

      Sure, she put her mug down, why would you lie to me? If it is going to hit Earth then I'm all for leaving. I'll tell Uncle Phil and see what he thinks. He might be able to give some good advice.

      A few minutes later, Jennifer made her excuses and left Helen's apartment. The support of her friend gave Helen the resolve to put her plan into action. She opened her DoAll and began researching.

      Weeks passed before Helen gathered enough data to rough out some designs and the basis of a feasible plan of action. She went to see her friend and fellow-geologist, John Pratt. Both he and his wife, Lucy were disgusted with what had happened at the seminar. They also took her ideas very seriously.

      My dear, Lucy was in her favourite position on her back on the sofa, you do know that this will take an awfully large amount of money to achieve?

      Yeah, Helen puffed her cheeks and made her round face rounder, over a hundred billion, according to my first stab at a budget.

      Phew, any ideas on where to begin to find that kind of money? John interlaced his fingers thoughtfully.

      Helen shook her head, None at all. I guess, first off is to clean up this presentation and then to approach Fortune 500 members one by one until I find backers.

      John nodded, I've got some vacation time due, if you need any help. Pressure at the clinic is on at this time of year, so I don't think Lucy will be able to take time off now, he looked at his wife with questioning eyes.

      No, Lucy said, not yet anyway but I'll do what I can in the evenings and weekends.

      Thanks guys, Helen smiled for the first time in a month, that means a lot to me.

      ~##~

      CHAPTER ONE

      Her voice had more than a touch of irritation, We're not talking about an African safari here, Helen frowned at her friend. This is a one-off life-changing event. We have to decide what's best for the long term.

      OK already! John Pratt threw his hands up in defence and surrender, The choice is simple really. The moon is without any atmosphere and only one sixth of the Earth's gravity. It also is somewhat short of variety as far as minerals go. About the only plus is a bit of water ice at the poles. Mars has an abundance of minerals, an atmosphere and forty percent of our gravity isn't too bad, is it? He looked at her quizzically.

      She took that as a cue to continue in a more sedate tone, Hmm, day lengths on Mars are practically the same as here and temperatures max out at twenty degrees centigrade. But it gets bloody cold at the other end of the scale. There's also…

      How cold? Colin asked.

      It was apparent to Helen that Colin had readily accepted what she said about the asteroid being on a collision course with Earth. He also thought that her fears of major volcanic activity and the violent movement of tectonic plates were quite well-founded and plausible. On the strength of that he was prepared to listen to her proposed solution.

      About minus one-forty centigrade, Helen wrinkled her mouth.

      Colin Yates let out a noisy breath, Phew, bloody doesn't even begin to describe it. How the hell can anyone live in conditions like that?

      Of the three people in the conference room, Colin was the most important. That was not because he was the oldest at forty-eight but because he was the richest of the group. As the founder and CEO of iCom, one of the more successful DoAll companies, his personal wealth had grown to a cool seventy-five billion and change.

      Helen gritted her teeth, That extreme only happens at night, so it should only affect our after-dark habits. Antarctica gets as cold as forty below in winter but it never goes above zero at any time. In interplanetary space, the temperature could be as hot as one-twenty on the sunny side and as cold as minus one-sixty on the dark side. And that's almost what you could expect on the moon, give or take forty degrees either way. In fact, temperatures in Earth orbit usually are plus minus one-thirty-five.

      Don't toy with me, Colin's eyes narrowed, Helen, just get to the point.

      Her head tilted to one side and her mouth tightened. She breathed deeply, Sorry, we'll be pioneers like Scott and Columbus. It won't be easy. The cold is not an insurmountable problem. Most of our lives will be spent indoors in air-conditioned and heated buildings, probably underground. When we do venture out on the surface, it'll have to be restricted to daytime and we'll have to have special clothing.

      You mean space suits? Colin doodled on a sheet of rarely used paper.

      Not really, Helen licked her lips, on hot days, a pressure suit and respirator will suffice. In fact, depending where we are, a pressure suit may not even be required. She thought, whoops, that's stretching a point a bit too far. She sighed and thought it best not to correct herself, But, protective clothing for the solar radiation is a must. Colder weather will need thermals, plus, depending on how cold it is. Of course, we could go for a drive in a pressurised rover and not need any protective clothing. That would be practically the same as flying on earth.

      Indoors isn't a problem for me. I doubt that I've been outside for more than a few hours in a year since I left school. Your earlier arguments were pretty convincing. Colin rolled his shoulders and blew another noisy sigh. He scribbled a few notes on paper and glanced up, You're asking me to toss away a lifetime's work. To throw away everything I have and become a caveman, humph. He wiped a hand over his mouth and cheeks. Helen could hear the crackling of his stubble.

      She started to speak but Colin held up a hand. He rolled his top lip under the bottom one, Put everything in writing. All your theories about hellfire as well as a comprehensive proposal about how we're going to get out of it. Obviously, the sooner you do, the sooner you'll get an answer from me. He waved her off.

      Helen nodded at John, stood up, Thanks for listening Colin. I'll have a preliminary report done by Friday.

      Good bye and thank you, Colin, John called from the door.

      Colin waved but said nothing.

      ~#~

      In the foyer, John finally broke the silence, That went well.

      Hmm, Helen nodded, can you help me with the report? If we lose him we might as well start knitting asbestos suits.

      John held the door open for her, There are other rich people, you know.

      No, I don't know. Thanks. She stepped out into the cool New York Spring evening air.

      The final glow of the setting sun reflected off the whirling wind turbines on the tops of the buildings. The ruddy rays that formed beams at every crossroad muted the shades of green, blue and brown of the photovoltaic panels that adorned many facades.

      Aside from a distant police siren and the honking of an irate motorist, traffic noise was limited to the swishing of thousands of tyres as electrically powered vehicles scurried about the city in endless streams. Only rarely did a vintage car running on homebrewed fuel break the stillness.

      John followed her, Well, I've been thinking and I know a well-connected civil engineer. He hasn't got much more money than Lucy and I have, I don't think, but between him and his wife… The rest of his words were lost in the growl of an articulated truck's biodiesel engine braking.

      OK, so talk to him, soon. Look, I've done most of the necessary research for the report. I just need to cobble it together and then you can criticise it. Maybe we'll have time to bounce it off your nameless engineer, huh?

      Gerald and Julia Brooks, John stopped at the curb a waved at a cab, sure, call me.

      Helen strode purposefully towards the nearest subway station. She reflected how luck and timing were such critical factors in people's lives. Was it bad luck that got me laughed out of the international seminar on volcanism? I've been over that presentation dozens of times since then and there's nothing to laugh about. Surely the delegates couldn't have been so stupid? I don't think I've made any enemies who would have tried to sabotage my work. How could those fools fail to see the logic unless some surreptitious heckler was feeding them amusing counters to my points?

      Ugh, she waved dismissively, to hell with them all. A few surrounding pedestrians glanced her way with varying expressions. She resumed her earlier chain of thought. It seems it's always a case of who you know rather than what you know. Jennifer's uncle knew Colin Yates and arranged the meeting. Helen's theory and the need for funding had sparked such enthusiasm in Jennifer Pringle that she simply had to tell her uncle. The uncle was not taken in by the theory but he did pass on what he had heard to Yates.

      In a shopfront window, Helen saw the reflection of a young woman. The fine tailored suit emphasised her striking figure. She now wore sensible low-heeled shoes. Helen grinned and muttered, I never did quite fit the geologist's mould. Normally, she wore denim jeans and a lumberjack's shirt. Denims had survived over nearly two centuries of fashion changes and they were still as popular as ever. Today's outfit was designed to impress and project her professionalism. The briefcase imparted an air of authority.

      Timing! Yes, that's it, she thought. Bloody hell, why didn't I realise that before? The scientific community has steadily been losing face thanks to a tsunami of doomsayers and I was riding the back of the wave. For decades, there's been a deluge of doomsday theories. Every last one of them has whacked another nail into the coffin of credibility by failing to materialise.

      Maybe they saw it as the biblical Revelations version of fire and brimstone and some damned sleazeball started sending cartoons to the delegates as I spoke. I sure wish I knew who and how it was done.

      Even so, how could they ignore figures that have been verified by four different space agencies? Well, I suppose none of them actually got the figures, which makes their behaviour all that much more puzzling. That damned asteroid is getting inexorably closer by the day. Arguably, the only potential discrepancy in my calculations is the rate of approach and that's not that significant. Four to six years and it'll be here. My theory is the best case scenario in which it misses Earth. Geez, if it hits the planet! Maybe it's just as well those clowns didn't take me seriously. Imagine the widespread panic if everyone knew what was coming.

      ~#~

      Little did Helen know that the President of the United States of America was thinking along exactly the same lines. He had ordered a media blackout. He had become aware of her interest through an arrangement with all space agencies that monitored potential threats to Earth. As soon as she had begun a certain line of enquiry she became a marked person.

      It was obvious to those that were spying on her what her line of research was leading to and what her presentation would be. They therefore had plenty of time to prepare. And the President had arranged a special package for the delegates at the volcanism seminar. While she had been attempting to make her presentation, discrediting information was fed to the DoAlls of the delegates.

      It was so cunningly devised that virtually everybody believed the disinformation that undermined her credibility and ridiculed everything she said. The President had regretted taking such measures but he felt that it had been necessary in the interests of national security.

      The President considered the impending disaster a real threat. He commissioned NASA to devise a plan. His suggestion was, Blow the darned thing out of the sky with everything we've got!

      Some NASA scientists were inclined to agree with that solution, as it was the quickest, easiest and least costly answer. But others thought it too drastic a measure and the result was stalemate in what had almost become a NASA tradition of procrastination. One thing they did agree on was that some sort of launch and intercept was called for. So while the debate raged on, calculations and preparations were begun.

      ~#~

      John called Gerald from the cab and was invited to dinner. He told the driver, Hey, cabby please change my destination to Washington Heights. John saw the dirty look in the rear-view mirror. He almost told the fellow off then thought better of it but he decided to give him half the usual tip. That earned him an even more sullen expression as he left the cab.

      Both Julia and Gerald were intrigued by the brief outline John gave them. Julia, was in John's opinion, the brighter of the two but Gerald was no slouch either. As a civil engineer, he had an intimate knowledge of geology and he had also completed a master's degree in geotechnical engineering. His wife was a lecturer in physics at Columbia University. She knew exactly what John meant by a decaying orbit and its implications.

      I'll do my own calculations, Julia said, I don't like relying on vagaries with orders of magnitude such as you've described.

      Agreed, John nodded, I'd also like a more accurate prediction. If we are to do anything, we need the best possible data for our timetable.

      Gerald scratched his head, What you said about the gravitational effects of this asteroid on plate tectonics is disturbing indeed and I think a second look at that data is called for too.

      You're welcome to give it the once over, John said, I've been through Helen's work many times and it all makes sense to me. She's been pretty thorough and I couldn't find any flaws in her arguments.

      John flipped his DoAll open and lined it up with those of Julia and Gerald. At the touch of a button, the relevant files were transferred wirelessly to his friends' DoAlls. He smiled, Now you have everything but please don't make it public knowledge.

      Yeah, Gerald glanced at his DoAll to see that the files had arrived, a wise decision to keep this sort of stuff secret.

      John leaned back in his chair, If either of you do come up with anything new or contrary, please let me know. Helen is compiling a report for Colin Yates…

      You mean the iCom Yates? Julia's eyes widened.

      One and the same, John smiled grimly, this venture is going to need a lot of money.

      If our calcs verify your hypothesis, you can count us in, right Gerry? Julia cocked an eyebrow at her husband.

      Gerald nodded with slightly less conviction, I guess so. If it's money you're after, Julia knows Ann Barker.

      Julia responded to John's blank look, Professor Emeritus at Columbia. She specialises in genetic engineering and she's from an old money family. Besides the money, her expertise would be invaluable and so would her horticulturist husband Malcolm.

      Sounds good, John smiled, So, will you approach them?

      Sure, Julia shrugged, once we're satisfied that all of this, she nodded at her DoAll, is kosher. Has anyone done the numbers yet?

      You mean a cost estimate? John asked. Julia nodded. He drew a breath, I guess it'll depend on how many people are prepared to go. Helen's done some research in that direction. She's thinking that an optimum number of about twenty people would be ideal. Especially considering the short time scale at our disposal. On that basis, we're looking at several billion but we haven't got an exact number yet.

      ~#~

      The next few days were trying for John and Helen. They ordered in and hardly slept at all. Both of them were on their DoAlls all the time but half the time was spent making calls; many of which were international. Europe, Japan and Russia were the obvious choices as they all had reliable space agencies. China had been ruled out because of the continuing instability after a decade-long civil war in which nearly eighty million had died.

      John's wife, Lucy appointed a locum at her clinic and helped where she could. As a medical doctor, she had little understanding of the contents of the report but she was a good organiser and a passionate supporter of most things John did. She also had an artistic eye that proved useful for the aesthetics of the presentations.

      OK, Helen threw her arms outwards and leaned back in her chair, that's it. By my reckoning, we need a tad under one hundred billion dollars. But allowing for contingencies, we better aim for a hundred-and-ten.

      Good God! John stopped what he was doing and stared at her, Are you sure? That sounds like one helluva lot of money.

      Geez John, it's not a pleasure cruise, Helen frowned. We're talking about leaving this world and setting up shop on another. I think it's cheap at the price.

      I'm not surprised, Lucy poured coffee for everyone, the unmanned Mars missions were damned expensive. The proposed manned ones never materialised because of political and financial considerations. How many people have you allowed for, Helen?

      Twenty tops, preferably a few less, Helen nodded her thanks for the coffee.

      Let's see, John frowned, there's the three of us, Colin and family's another four, Gerald's lot is three more, and if Ann and her husband join that gives us a dozen. Who else did you have in mind?

      My friend Jennifer Pringle, Helen shrugged, "and we need a reasonable cross-section of expertise. I'm not sure who else

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