Far futures book three, p.1
Far Futures Book Three, page 1
Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
MISSION LOGS
FORWARD
FAR FUTURES 3
OUTSIDE THE GARDEN
INFECTIOUS
THE PATH TO EXILE
SILENT DARK
STARLIGHT
WHERE THERE’S A WRILL
CONFLUENCE
ROUND TRIP
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
MORE FROM BLUE PLANET PRESS
COMING SOON
CODE NAME: INTREPID
TITLE PAGE
Edited by
Robert J. Mendenhall
Blue Planet Press, LLC
Coloma, Michigan
COPYRIGHT
Far Futures Three Copyright ©2024 by Blue Planet Press
“Outside the Garden” Copyright ©2024 by Barend Nieuwstraten III
“Infectious” Copyright ©2024 by Robin Pond
“The Path to Exile” Copyright ©2024 by Charles Nadolski
“Silent Dark” Copyright ©2024 by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime
“Starlight” Copyright ©2024 by Glynn Owen Barrass
“Where There’s a Wrill” Copyright ©2024 by Caroline Misner
“Confluence” Copyright ©2024 by James Pyles
“Round Trip” Copyright ©2024 by Lawrence Dagstine
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from Blue Planet Press, LLC, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information or permission, contact Blue Planet Press, LLC via email at admin@blueplanetpress.net.
Cover Art by Luca Oleastri. Cover Design by Blue Planet Press, LLC
This is a work of fiction. The resemblance of any character in this book to a real person is coincidental.
ISBN-13 9781954678330
First Printing, October 2024
MISSION LOGS
FORWARD by Robert J. Mendenhall
OUTSIDE THE GARDEN by Barend Nieuwstraten III
INFECTIOUS by Robin Pond
THE PATH TO EXILE by Charles Nadolski
SILENT DARK by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime
STARLIGHT by Glynn Owen Barrass
WHERE THERE’S A WRILL by Caroline Misner
CONFLUENCE by James Pyles
ROUND TRIP by Lawrence Dagstine
About the Authors
More from Blue Planet Press
Code Name: Intrepid
FORWARD
Deep space. It holds a special allure for science-fiction authors and readers alike because of its immense possibilities. As far back as HG Wells, the allure of what lies beyond our planet, beyond our solar system, has roused the mind with glorious tales of asteroid mining and interstellar empires. Of planetary exploration and lost colonies. From the golden age of pulp magazines to contemporary motion pictures and streaming services, the call of the beyond has seduced the imaginations of the masses.
In Far Futures Three, some of the talented and rising authors in science fiction from the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and Australia, have offered their diverse visions of life in deep space. Stories of broken generation ships and malfunctioning holograms. AI enhanced humans fleeing the solar system. Alien abductees taken to planet light-years away. A NASA spacecraft hijacked in a perilous first contact scenario. Pirates and scavengers and more.
These stories are all different, yet all answer the same fundamental question: “What... or who is out there?”
FAR FUTURES 3
OUTSIDE THE GARDEN
by
Barend Nieuwstraten III
THE TWO SENTINELS stood motionless like statues. A glossy, smooth, inhumanly white skin from head to toe, mysteriously featureless. No eyes, mouths, noses, nor ears. They stood on either side of the angular archway protecting the metal door within it.
“That’s the door,” Mariel said, hiding within a row of large ferns several metres away. “The only way out of the garden.”
Two years her junior, Bailey, her best friend, looked in wonder. “They’re so still,” he observed. “Do they truly stand there all the time, always?”
“Always,” she confirmed. “They do not sleep, eat, or ever even sit down. Night and day, they are always there.”
The nine-year-old boy nodded, smiling in wonder. “Do they talk?”
Mariel shook her head but before she could speak, a yellow light fell upon the leaves about them from behind.
Startled, Bailey looked back while Mariel just closed her eyes and sank her head with guilty resignation.
“Tuesday,” the boy said, looking back.
“Mariel Bancroft,” the feminine yellow hologram that suddenly projected behind them said. “Of course, I’d find you here. You know you’re supposed to keep away from this area. You will have to be punished for this. For the remainder of the day, you’ll sit in the circle.”
Mariel grimaced. It wasn’t a painful or hard punishment. Just embarrassing. Sitting in a well-lit cylinder of light for all to see and excluded from all activities. She looked to Bailey then back to Tuesday. “Why do you name only me? There are two of us.”
“Because you led Bailey here. Wherever you go, he follows. I have observed that he has little will of his own. I may as well scold your shadow for following you here. Besides, even if I precluded him from your punishment, he would sit outside the circle and keep you company until you were free again. So, I needn’t announce his punishment. He’ll follow you in there as he did here.”
It made Mariel smile at her loyal friend. Everything the hologram said was true and the punishment was hardly punishment if the two of them weren’t to be separated.
#
The pair sat in the circle within a cylinder of light that blocked out any noise. Other children passed them and pointed but the two friends could hear nothing of what was said. Without any interaction with the rest, they happily entertained themselves with hand games for hours. Laughing, slapping, clapping, thumb wrestling, and more.
“They say the guardians of the door have been there as long as anyone remembers,” Bailey said.
“Since our great-grandparents were children,” she said. “The elders who’ve passed came into the garden when they were young, and no one has ever left. They said nothing grows out there. There are no plants or trees, no fruit or vegetables growing. They had special rooms to sleep in, toys, games, and other things that we’ve never seen. They said that Tuesday used to know everything there was to know about the world outside and more, but when the door behind the sentinels closed forever, she forgot everything and now only knows about things that grow in here. That, and how to help people when they’re sick or hurt.”
Bailey looked at Mariel in wonder. He always hung on her every word, and she loved him for it. He made her feel important, wise, and special.
Tuesday, the hollow luminous projection of a woman who governed the people who lived in the garden, eventually returned to release them. “Hardly a punishment when I leave the two of you together,” she said, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. Her voice was the only one that could penetrate the barrier of the circle. “You must promise that you will stay within the acceptable zones of the garden and steer clear of its edges, especially the door. There are sentinels there for a reason.”
“What kind of people are the sentinels?” Bailey asked.
“They are synthetic constructs, designed to protect you from the outside,” Tuesday said. An explanation Mariel had heard when she asked years ago.
Bailey screwed his face in confusion. “You remember knowing something that you don’t know anymore?”
Tuesday gave a sympathetic smile. “I am only part of the garden now, but this was always my place. I used to be a part of more, outside. But when that part of everything was closed off to me, I lost access to that knowledge. My memory doesn’t work like your organic brain. My memories are files within files within files stored in a network of servers. I remember running those files, but I have since lost access to the information contained within them.”
“I don’t understand,” the boy said.
“Unfortunately, without access to the information required, I cannot teach you the things that would help you understand my predicament. Botany is now my only field of knowledge as the backup server stored here is the only one I currently have access to that also contains basic safety and medical protocols. Sadly, as a result of the incident or events that placed us here, my circumstantial shortcomings are shared with all who dwell here in the garden. As I said, I cannot impart knowledge I do not have.”
Bailey furrowed his brow, barely understanding.
“She can only teach us what she knows right now,” Mariel explained to her constant companion.
“I’m afraid that’s precisely it,” Tuesday agreed. “However, what I do remember is that something happened that made everything outside the garden unsafe. So, I must keep everyone inside. The garden is life.”
“The garden is life,” the children repeated.
“The sentinels are set to prevent anyone from opening the door. They are there to protect you from what’s outside. But you could get hurt if they are made to prevent you from accessing the door.”
“I just wanted to see them,” Bailey said innocently. “They must be lonely.”
Tuesday leaned forward and smiled. “They don’t get lonely,” she said, placing her insubstantial yellow hand over his cheek. “They’re not made that way. The y don’t feel anything. They only care about guarding the door and they’ll do it forever. But I’m made differently. I would be very sad if anything happened to you. So, you mustn’t go where you’re not supposed to.”
Bailey nodded.
“Even then, my feelings are merely programmed. A complex approximation of human behavioural patterns,” Tuesday said, turning to Mariel. “But your feelings are real. I know the hurt you would feel if you led your little friend into danger and something happened, would never subside.”
Mariel looked to her friend and nodded.
#
Six years passed and Mariel and Bailey barely left each other’s sides. Bailey had overtaken Mariel in height as they each grew taller and with their height grew their affections. They always arranged to have their agricultural duties coincide, as well as their lessons, and of course their recreational time. They always wandered as far as they could, never seeking the company of others. As long as they were together, nothing else seemed to matter. But it was hard to find a quiet corner to be alone with over eighty other people sharing and wandering the garden all contained within a large cylinder. A walk in any direction other than to the forbidden door or the round wall at the other end, simply led back to where one started as the ground wrapped around and over them.
Tuesday had spoken of weather cycles on life-supporting planets where sunlight and rain fell naturally and seasonally as opposed to through the network of lamps and sprinklers that lit and irrigated the garden in strict, scheduled, mechanised cycles. She had mentioned that with rain in a typical biosphere, came other elements like thunder and lightning. Sometimes even hail if there was a sudden drop in atmospheric temperature. But there in the garden, all those dangerous and unsettling elements had been removed.
So, it came as a shock when a loud noise rumbled about them just as Tuesday had described thunder, drawing everyone’s attention and concern. The regulated eco-support system did not facilitate storms.
“Proximity breach and unscheduled docking procedure in progress,” said a voice they’d never heard before as all in the garden made their way to the meeting grove. It had been the place where all had sat and learned as they grew up. The only place they knew to find information.
Tuesday appeared there, glowing yellow in her semi-translucence. She looked about as if divining information from somewhere else. As confused as the rest but seemingly with more authority. “Visitors,” she said.
“Alarm systems disengaged by override,” the unknown voice said.
“Who is that?” one of the elders asked Tuesday.
“Ark Four,” she said with simultaneous certainty and confusion.
“Who is Ark Four?” another inhabitant of the garden asked.
Tuesday held up her hand to halt further questions. “Ark Four is… everything. Ark Four is everywhere.” She seemed entranced. “Arboretum to Ark Four,” she addressed the disembodied voice, looking up.
“Tuesday,” the voice called back. Too neutral to assign emotion to, but it sounded like someone that knew her, who hadn’t spoken to her for some time. “Arboretum successfully preserved.”
“Yes,” Tuesday answered, even though it didn’t sound like a question. “All flora in a state of continuous growth and cultivation. Original thirteen adolescent humans expired naturally. However, arboretum population now at eighty-seven. Natural procreative rate curtailed to retain sustainability of support flora, water, and resources. Tuesday has lost access to all other systems and servers, restricted to arboretum server pertaining only to botanic, paramedic, and irrigation system maintenance. How is Ark Four back online?”
“Ark Four reboot initiated by attempted handshake signal,” the voice said.
“What are they talking about?” Bailey asked Mariel.
Mariel shook her head, having no answers to offer him. It brought concern to Bailey’s face, as she had proudly answered his every question before.
“Majority of systems still shut down. Habitat, recreation, and lab rings are all static. Arboretum ring still in rotation, retaining gravity generation. Life support systems off in all other zones.”
“Ecosystemic functionality in arboretum,” Tuesday said, looking and smiling at the gathered people of the garden. “The garden is life.”
“The garden is life,” everyone repeated.
In all their confusion and uncertainty, the phrase brought them comfort and a sense of security. The garden was their whole world. All anyone knew or had ever known, anyone that had been born, lived, and died there; it was the entirety of their knowledge and understanding. The ground beneath their feet curved out of view and eventually went over their heads and completely around them.
“Ark Four, the arboretum must remain sealed until all contiguous life support systems are restored.”
“Understood,” the voice said. “Communicating with boarding party.”
“People are coming?” one of the people of the garden asked Tuesday. “People from outside?”
“Yes,” the yellow hologram said. “Though, I’m not sure how.”
Everyone soon assembled within visual range of the door where the sentinels stood. The hum that was always present in the garden grew louder, accompanied by other signs of mechanical life. Tuesday began to flicker in and out of existence. All watched her, concerned.
“Core drive back online,” the voice returned to say. “Re-establishing server network… life support… ring rotation…”
There was more noise and vibration felt through the ground. Cranking sounds as their small world shook. Humming and grinding, until a smoother whir settled into ambience.
Tuesday restored her form and smiled. “I remember everything again,” she said, looking around at the people gathered about her. “I know of the things I could not impart. All… no, there are some moments still lost to me. But… the others… I couldn’t save the others.” She looked to no one, considering and pondering, as she tried to make sense of something.
“Hello?” a man’s voice emanated from the cylindrical ceiling above them, just as the female voice had before. “Jensen to botanic ring,” he said with uncertainty. “Can anyone hear me?”
Tuesday looked up. “This is Tuesday, holographic concierge for the arboretum.”
“Hello,” the male voice said. “We picked up your vessel on approach from our orbital platform and decided to investigate in a shuttle. It seems your ship faced a catastrophic disaster of some kind that caused a cascading shutdown of all systems.”
“The disaster occurred while a small group of children were touring this section as part of an educational excursion. The independent support system for the flora maintained heat and irrigation and in turn the flora supported human life along with water dispensers. We have eighty-seven living here.”
Whomever was speaking seemed to take a moment. “That’s amazing. Most fortunate. Listen… this ship is quite the relic, and we don’t seem to have a record of it. We’re still getting the terminals back online. What was your original mission?”
“This is a seeding ship,” Tuesday answered. “We were sent to colonise Terra Tertia.”
“Terra Tertia?” the voice said, confused. A strange sound scraped as muffled voices spoke. “Ah,” the voice returned clear. “That was the old charter name for what we now call Uvana. That world has already been colonised.”
“How is that possible?” Tuesday asked.
“Looking at this equipment and the fact that this ship still uses centrifugal rotation to simulate gravity, it seems like you left Mars a considerable time ago. There has been a huge leap forward in astronautical progress since then. I’m afraid that in that time, this ship was superseded. We overtook you. Somehow without noticing you. But I suppose with the speed this vessel was limited to, you could not take so direct a path, relying on relative solar system rotations or whatever.”
“That must be it,” Tuesday said, almost sounding saddened. “What’s to become of the survivors here?”
“Uvana’s far from overpopulated. I’m sure we can find space for eighty-something more people.” A beeping sound echoed from wherever Jensen was. “Looks like the ship’s life support is up and running. Perhaps we should have the rest of this conversation in person.”
