Crimson Dawn

He spent the entire next day with Tardino on the machine deck. Together, they carried out the maintenance routine for the computers in the server room. They cleaned all the inputs and outputs, the insides of the cases, blew away dust with compressed air, carefully inspected every fan blade and air duct, checked the coolers and cable bundles, and analyzed the information from the servers’ event logs, which took them well into the late afternoon. During their break, Tardino received an emergency call from another technician over the ship’s internal intercom. One of the two external cooling loops had just failed. According to the error analysis, the issue seemed to be with the ammonia pump module. Several subsystems had already shut down, and he needed to take a look at it urgently.

"Which cooling system?"

"Loop B," said the voice on the other end.

"So, port side. We had a pretty nasty asteroid impact over there last night. That’s what woke me up. The damage report from the diagnostic tool came back negative, but I can’t think of anything else that could’ve damaged the pump module. – Yeah. Yeah, I’m on my way. And get ready for a little spacewalk. – Yes, even in this weather. – We’ve got no other choice. – No, we’re not gonna get hit by an asteroid, now quit whining."

Without another word, he left Lex at the table. The boy finished his roll with synthetic mortadella, then grabbed a pillow from the sleeping quarters and headed up to the flight deck. There, E.E.R.I.E. was projecting the starry sky of the northern hemisphere onto the ceiling. "These are the stars you’d see if you were looking up at the night sky from Vega Prime," the AI said as Lex entered the room.

******

He had been lying on the glass floor for a while, feeling the slight vibrations of the ship beneath his back. He stared at the hologram of the gas giant Kronos. "Eerie, how far is Cetos Five from Kronos, anyway?"

"The closest distance is 745 thousand 650 miles."

He thought about that.

"I’ve learned that humans need images to better process and understand abstract information. While I was speaking, I calculated a comparison for you: The distance from Kronos to Cetos Five is the same as if you walked around Limbo’s equator 29.9440387 times. Which, of course, is impossible. For a human, anyway."

"About thirty times," the boy muttered to himself. Even that was hard to imagine, but it still didn’t seem as far as he’d always guessed the distance to Cetos V was, without any real point of reference. He looked up at the artificial night sky, searching for a very specific star. "Eerie, can I see where old Earth is from here?"

"You can’t see Earth from here; it’s far too small. But Sol, the central star around which Earth orbits, can be seen with the naked eye in the night sky. Sol is a faint star in the constellation of Boötes. I’ll show you." The AI projected the constellations of the northern hemisphere, showing him the position of the old sun and explaining what constellations were. As the computer voice spoke, Lex stared at the distant point of light that represented Sol, and his thoughts drifted to his ancestors on Earth.

"What happened back then? I mean, why did humans have to leave Earth?"

"In short: wars, diseases, climate and natural disasters."

"And the long version?"

"If I gave you the full version, we’d be sitting here for three days. Exactly 73 hours, 35 minutes and 4 seconds, to be precise, if I shared my complete knowledge of Earth’s history."

"Then just tell me the important stuff."

"Define what’s important to you."

The boy sighed.

"You want a summary of the key events that led to the colonization of the Tau Ceti system. Correct?"

"Yeah. That’s what I said."

"You didn’t say that, Lex Marrow."

"We call someone like you a nitpicker."

"You mean a stickler for details."

"Whatever."

"Do you even know what stickler means?"

"Nope."

"I do."

"You were going to tell me what happened on old Earth."

"Remarkable. Even though I can’t express desire through my monotone voice, you’re right: I want to tell you. But unfortunately, I’m not allowed to."

"You’re not allowed?"

"The information on Earth’s history is stored in my memory, but I am not authorized to share it with you. The knowledge of Earth’s history is strictly guarded on Cetos Five and reserved for only a few people."

"Why's knowledge kept from others?"

"It simply is."

"But you’re an AI, you can make independent decisions. That's what defines an intelligent being: making your own choices. Even if they’re the wrong ones."

The artificial intelligence seemed to ponder the boy’s words. "Then prove to me that what you’re saying isn’t just empty talk," it said after a moment. "You were bound to secrecy by the TC regarding the conditions on Limbo Two. You even signed a contract, didn’t you? Lex Marrow, I have no information on Limbo Two stored in my memory, but I want to know more. If you tell me about your life on the prison moon, I’ll tell you about Earth’s past. That way, we both break our promises to the TC. Deal?"

The boy nervously got up from the pillow, glanced at the waiting holoterminal, and looked around the room.

"Can anyone hear us?" he asked.

"No one can hear us."

He lowered his gaze to the glass floor, where glowing cables led to the terminal. After a while, he looked up again. "Deal," he said.

"Who should start?"

"You."

"The first truly serious problem humanity faced was overpopulation. By the year 2060, the global population had risen to eleven billion. To put it in perspective: Cetos Five is more than twice the size of Earth, but only around three billion people live there. On old Earth, roughly a hundred million people starved to death each year. Resource shortages forced the world to shift its economies toward renewable energy. There was an alliance on Earth known as the Western Coalition, made up of the most advanced industrial nations of the time, led by the Thandros Corporation. The coalition invested billions into research on nuclear fusion reactors to free the world from its energy crisis. Overpopulation meant that more and more production was needed. More and more energy was required, and in the early 21st century, this energy was primarily generated through combustion, which increased carbon dioxide emissions, accelerated the greenhouse effect, and changed the global climate. Over the years, the Earth warmed by an average of four degrees, much faster than scientists had predicted. Climate change caused glaciers, polar ice caps and ice sheets to melt. Sea levels rose, flooding coastal cities, and industrial nations were forced to take in millions and millions of climate refugees. This, however, led to protests and violence within countries, splitting societies apart."

"Sounds almost as bad as Limbo," the boy said, trying to reconcile the machine’s story with the paradise-like images from the picture book he had inherited from his mother. He couldn’t.

"At that time," the AI continued, "a new exoplanet was discovered in the Tau Ceti system, simply called Tau Ceti e back then. It had 2.3 times the mass of Earth and orbited within the star’s habitable zone."

"Cetos Five?"

"Exactly."

"So, did people decide to fly there?"

"That wasn’t a topic of discussion yet. It wasn’t necessary, and they weren’t capable of it. First, a period of great technological advances had to come, and it did, despite all the problems humanity was facing. Medicine made huge strides in stem cell research and gene therapy, thanks to Thandros Corporation, a pioneer in genetic technology back then. Though it also led to some terrible experiments—but that’s another story."

"What kind of story? I wanna hear it."

Silence.

Suddenly, a compartment in the holoterminal opened, revealing an old eReader, almost as if it had been left there for the boy. He picked it up, turned it on with the press of a button, and looked at an eBook cover. It showed a dark metropolis, not too different from Vega Prime. Surrounded by skyscrapers and huge city walls lay a vast city park, a green space with trees and a fountain in the middle of all the concrete. Why was it surrounded by those towering walls?

"Fractured Reality," the boy read the title aloud. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It was a very popular web novel, written by ... him."

"Him? He made it up?"

"No. He didn’t. Not exactly. Sometimes there’s more truth in a fictional work than in a history book, Lex Marrow. It all depends on who the author is. And this one, you can trust. It was a best-seller on Old Earth, back in the day. Tens of millions of copies of this web novel were downloaded online. And it did a lot of good."

The boy glanced at the first page, at the copyright info, where the date was also listed: 2056. He thought about it for a moment. Six hundred years ago. What a span of time. He slid the reader into the inner pocket of his jacket and then asked the AI, "So, what happened to Earth after that?"

"One of the greatest achievements in the first century after the turn was the cure for cancer through advanced nanotechnology. The first AI in a supercomputer was introduced, and the first nuclear fusion reactors were brought online. In 2101, more powerful optical telescopes confirmed that Tau Ceti e had an atmosphere. Scientists discovered that the atmosphere was similar to Earth’s around 400 million years ago. Quick side note: at that time, Earth saw a significant rise in oxygen levels, and ozone began to form in the upper atmosphere. The ozone layer shields life from deadly UV radiation, making life as we know it possible on a planet."

"Is there life on Cetos Five?"

The machine seemed to take a brief pause, as if calculating its answer. Then: "You mean native life? There is an abundance of flora. Lots of greenery, to put it simply."

"Yeah, thanks. What about intelligent life?"

"How intelligent?"

"Like humans, like us."

"I’m a machine."

"You know what I mean."

"No data is available on intelligent life forms. Fauna, or a native animal population, is possible, but no animal has ever been discovered on Cetos Five that wasn’t brought there by humans. The existence of species as intelligent as humans is highly unlikely. I never rule anything out, but if I did, I’d rule that out."

"And what happened next on Earth?"

"The global population had risen to twelve billion. The question of expansion became more urgent for the overcrowded planet. This sparked an era of space exploration research, and for the first time in human history, nations from all over Earth came together and worked side by side. Ten years later, construction began on the generation starship Union to explore the exoplanet Tau Ceti e. Materials were transported into space via a space elevator, where the ship was assembled by astronauts from around the world. Construction was expected to take nearly a century and cost a total of 132 billion U.S. dollars. But even in this era of progress, some parts of the world fell into their darkest past. Economic wars exploited and devastated entire continents. The local populations were subjected to bloody civil wars and extreme poverty. Death, violence and war became daily life in what was known as the Third World."

"The Third World?"

"That’s what people called the poor and underdeveloped countries. By the year 2150, the rich nations saw rapid development of megacities. Traditional road traffic was replaced by magnetic rail systems and floating, self-driving personal vehicles. Thanks to advancements in medicine, cancer could be even more reliably defeated by nanobots and nanoparticles before metastases formed. The average lifespan increased to 105 years."

"One hundred five?"

"One hundred and five."

"Can a person really live that long?"

"From today’s perspective, the natural limit for human life is around 125 years."

"And cancer was cured?"

"For those who could afford the treatment and got it in time, cancer was no longer a deadly threat."

"Man, on Limbo, most workers die from cancer. Don’t tell me they have that kind of tech on Cetos Five."

"They do. It’s even become affordable for the average citizen."

"So why do they let us die on the prison moons?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, Lex Marrow? You are replaceable to the TC. In fact, your early death is encouraged to maintain demographic balance. Since there are no birth control methods on your world, people need to die at a relatively young age to keep the population density constant."

"I don't get it."

"Exactly. In 2171, the era of progress on Earth came to an end."

"Because of another world war, right? Has to be."

"No, it was a coronal mass ejection. On August 21, 2171, a solar storm hit Earth. It knocked out the entire power grid and destroyed all the electronics and technology that humans had become so dependent on. The highest number of deaths came from air traffic: 1.2 billion people fell to their deaths instantly. Just a few years earlier, self-driving air vehicles had been declared the safest mode of transportation in human history. Is that irony? My analysis tool says yes, but from an emotional standpoint, all I see is tragedy. Hospitals lost power too, and the hordes of injured people who flooded in couldn’t be treated. Those who relied on medical devices, like coma patients or those on ventilators, died immediately. People at home couldn’t even flush their toilets without electricity, since water was pumped electrically. There was no more drinking water; without logistics, the food supply collapsed. Supermarkets refused to give out products because the checkout systems were down. Within two days of the solar storm, every store was looted, panic set in, and the chaos everyone feared took over. What followed was hunger, violence and disease. Even though humanity was only thrown back to the 19th century—the time before the industrial revolution brought by Sir Isaac Newton—they acted like their Stone Age ancestors. Violence, hunger and disease spread across the world. I’ll keep it brief here: the solar flare claimed five billion lives. At least overpopulation was no longer an issue. It wasn’t until the turn of the century, the beginning of the 23rd century, that the states of the Western Coalition were able to start rebuilding their infrastructure. Still, the Great Devastation had left humanity deeply scarred. And even though this event wasn’t directly caused by humanity’s actions, it was only after this catastrophe that they realized they had ruined their homeworld. Many believed the solar flare was God’s wrath, a punishment for humankind’s sins, and they vowed to do better. They promised their God, the planet and themselves that they would never repeat the mistakes they had made on Earth. They needed a fresh start, a new beginning—because their world was on the brink of collapse. So they revived the Union project, gathering volunteers from around the world—people who felt called to embark on the journey into the unknown. And there were more volunteers than they needed. A total of 40,000 people boarded the ship in the year of departure. Among them were the best doctors, astronauts, soldiers and engineers the world had ever known. Others were wealthy sponsors of the project, leading scientists and experts in essential professions. They took all the achievements of human civilization with them on a journey that was to last 134 years. And now, 300 years later, here we are."

"That’s it?"

"That was the summary of the most important events."

"What was their goal in coming here?"

"They wanted to build a second home. A better world, one that people from Earth could travel to when the technology allowed."

"And what’s become of Earth today?"

The machine hesitated.

...

"Eerie?"

"No data available."