Your story - a friendly landing spot

[Iain]

I make it that the area of the whole cylinder is about your estimate, but the void at the centre is 28B of this so the total volume is about 50B cubic metres. For that void, you would need a bit over 5.8Km radius.

[webberg]

Thanks.

So volume is 50bn cubic metres.

A bedroom or living room might be say 4 x 4 x 2.5 metres or 40 cubic metres. Say 3 rooms per family of 2. Or 120 cubic metres.

Take out say a third of the total space for services, common rooms, spaces too small to use for people.

Take out another third for water storage.

That gives me 50bn x 33%/120 or 137m living spaces.

A population of around 200m say.

To be comfortable, I'll halve that and say that I'll have three tori at around 100m people in each and two smaller ones at 30/40m.

Make sense?

[Iain]

probably more generous than most space ship designs have assumed for living space, but overall seems fine to me.

[webberg]

Agreed Iain but we're looking at a journey of two/three generations and an Apollo type capsule is unsurvivable for that long.

The plan is for the torus to be able to spin to provide an illusion of gravity - variable of course - but nonetheless provide some "up and down".

I think however one might fail and not be spun up leaving that population in micro gravity and see how that might develop, especially during acceleration and more particularly a few decades later on deceleration.

I've been thinking also about the crew and governance.

Governance models are a great excuse to explore what we like and dislike about human society. Do we have a collegiate type process with all voices able to be heard via a system which allows for corruption if the spokesperson has their own ambitions? Do we have a beneficial dictator type system which is fine as long as it remains "beneficial". Do we have an oversight process whereby the populations of the tori are able to understand/control what is happening on the ship? Do we have a process which because of the long journey has not ever been tested until we reach a crisis?

One of my favourite themes here is how any governing system or process can be undone by individuals or small cabals, enabled by the indifference of the mass population. Once the population wakes up to the situation, what then?

I'm very much not a conspiracy theorist (because I really think it impossible for large numbers of people to keep something hidden from other large groups) but I do follow some of the threads because they make great ideas for fiction. If I keep the populations in my tori separate, the capacity for conspiracy theory increases and as a plot device, this is useful.

In terms of timing, I'm about to go on a sabbatical and will not be back in the UK until January 2025. My plan therefore is to think further on this and put an extended draft to you, my team mates, around mid February.

[webberg]

Every decent story needs a good start.

There are some established ways of doing this.

A straightforward timeline driven, first person description.

A retrospective view from later in the storyline.

Jumping into an event which grabs the attention.

I'm playing with the above (and more) but for the moment have the following upon which I invite views and comments.

From this distance, she still looked huge. He knew the numbers. More than 5 kilometres of tube with an average diameter of 1,000 metres. Each of her five rings slowly spinning around that tube was three kilometres across. Space enough for the millions who would begin arriving soon from mother Earth. Engines nozzles big enough to swallow sports pitches - not that there were any of those any more but he remembered them from his youth. The bridge at the nominal front was still under construction and was closest to him but still too far away to help.

She was smaller now and he could see the scaffolding around the bridge and engines. He could also now make out one of the booster rockets which he knew was over 10,000 kilometres away on a different orbit to the Free Spirit just in case another group tried to copy cat the attack from the Peoples of Earth and blow one or more of them up. That little incident had cost them a year of construction as well as killing more than 300 of his colleagues. He found that his present condition allowed him to let go of the anger he had harboured over this and gave him a new perspective. He could understand why some felt betrayed and frustrated. For him, being part of the last and arguably greatest project mankind had ever attempted was reward enough even though he had known for half a decade that he would not be on board when she left the dock.

His kids would be though. He had been too old to begin the treatments that promised a life span of more than 150 years, almost all of it active. When this became available he was over 40 and the danger was that his body would have turned on itself promising a slow and painful death. Nanna and Ragnar had been young teenagers then and he had insisted that they start the program. To qualify them for the treatment and guarantee a place on the ship, he had volunteered to work on the Free Spirit project, building the ark that would carry mankind's last hope to a promised land. Ironic that he had been in space for nearly half his kids' lives, seeing them on time delayed video as they grew and would now not see them when they arrived in few months to board their ship.

He turned off the alarm without thought. The suit he wore - had worn for ten years - was prone to malfunctions and they had become routine. His suit was no different from most others and they suffered the same problems. A decision had bene taken a couple of years back to make do and mend their suits because the alternative was that construction halted -perhaps forever - if they waited for new suits. Those new suits needed resources that were scarce and were better spent on the ship. He and the tens of thousands of workers had voted to carry on knowing the risks and dangers. Those who voted to wait, were offered a return to Earth or an "inside job". Very few returned to Earth.

He was far enough away now and gently spinning to see the PK swarm on each rotation. He knew what he was seeing was enhanced by the suit visor but it still held a certain beautifully horrific charm. Spawned from collisions far out beyond Neptune, this swarm of rocky and iron rich mountains was edging ever closer and was presently predicted to intercept Earth in 18 months's time. Not just one planet killer. More than a hundred thousand of them ranging from truck size to larger than Everest. Earth had sent nuclear tipped rockets to destroy them every year for the last 20 years but there were just too many and eventually the nations on Earth had withheld their arsenal to fight between themselves. Guesses as to the effect on Earth ranged from the total elimination of planet and life to those who still thought divine intervention would save them. He was a practical man. He had supported the building of the Free Spirit and her sister ships, had given up half his income to it, eventually volunteered to work on building her.

The master alarm was now a constant cacophony in his ears. He over rode the safeties and sought that inner place he found when he needed to centre his mind and body. He should leave a message for Nanna and Ragnar. He composed several opening lines in his head but could not finish them. In the end he settled on "I love you both. Be brave, be strong. Make me proud. Walk slowly through the doors of joy". He knew the last was perhaps beyond their grasp of his Icelandic language, but they would work it out.

Was it his fault he was beyond help from the the dock? He felt it probably was. That part they were looking to instal had no weight out here but it did have inertia and an unexpected nudge when he was not clipped on had been enough. His radio was not working and the short range intercom was unreliable out here. He had been more than 5km away by the time he had stabilsed his rotations and found that in doing so he had exhausted the manoeuvring fuel. He was on a trajectory to who knew where, but away from help and safety. He knew his colleagues would not come after him. Their orders were brutally simple in this situation. If your friend you had worked beside for years found themselves out of range of any risk free rescue, let them go. The project could afford to lose small numbers of people but could not afford large scale diversion of resources. IN practice this meant that once you were more than a kilometre away, the risks were simply too high.

He checked his numbers. He was good for a few hours of oxygen. He had thought about trying to divert this to his jets but without being able to access the outside of his suit, this was not possible. His choice was to slowly suffocate as his oxygen was used up or take a quicker route to death. He realised that he had made that decision some time ago.

[And that is it - I'm unsure whether to let this character die or be rescued. His story could go beyond launch to provide a glimpse of the apocalypse on Earth. He could be involved in a plan/plot to stowaway. He could be involved in fighting off an attempt to sabotage the project. I've made him Icelandic. This is because I'm currently very much into a band from there called of Monsters and Men (Nanna and Ragnar are the singers of that band) and partly because that has led me to their myths and legends, some of which I am going to weave into this story.]

[Iain]

My very amateurish comments added: Otherwise really good. Re the character, I think it is better for him to be saved for now. Perhaps clinging on to a ship trying to sabotage it to combine more than one?

Every decent story needs a good start.

There are some established ways of doing this.

A straightforward timeline driven, first person description.

A retrospective view from later in the storyline.

Jumping into an event which grabs the attention.

I'm playing with the above (and more) but for the moment have the following upon which I invite views and comments.

From this distance, she still looked huge. He knew the numbers. More than 5 kilometres of tube with an average diameter of 1,000 metres. Each of her five rings slowly spinning around that tube was three kilometres across. Space enough for the millions who would begin arriving soon from mother Earth. Engines nozzles big enough to swallow sports pitches - not that there were any of those any more but he remembered them from his youth. The bridge at the nominal front was still under construction and was closest to him but still too far away to help Not sure this adds much and much weaker than opening sentences. How about something like "There was still a lot of work to do on the control deck at the front" or alternatively a consequence of his inability to help as a following sentence?.

She was smaller now "He was now far enough away to see the whole colossal construction?"and he could see the scaffolding around the bridge and engines. He could also now make out one of the booster rockets which he knew was over 10,000 kilometres away on a different orbit to the Free Spirit just in case another group tried to copy cat the attack from the Peoples of Earth and blow one or more of them up "again". That little incident "e first" had cost them a year of construction as well as killing more than 300 of his colleagues. He found that his present condition allowed him to let go of the anger he had harboured over this and gave him a new perspective. He could understand why some felt betrayed and frustrated. For him, being part of the last and arguably greatest project mankind "the people of earth" had ever attempted was reward enough even though he had known for half a decade that he would not be on board when she left the dock.

His kids would be though. He had been too old to begin the treatments that promised a life span of more than 150 years, almost all of it active. When this became available he was over 40 and the danger was that his body would have turned on itself promising a slow and painful death. Nanna and Ragnar had been young teenagers then and he had insisted that they start the program. To qualify them for the treatment and guarantee a place on the ship, he had volunteered to work on the Free Spirit project, building the ark that would carry mankind's last hope to a promised land. Ironic that he had been in space for nearly half his kids' lives, seeing them on time delayed video as they grew and would now not see them when they arrived in few months to board their ship.

He turned off the alarm without thought. The suit he wore - had worn for ten years - was prone to malfunctions and they had become routine. His suit was no different from most others and they suffered the same problems. A decision had bene taken a couple of years back to make do and mend their suits because the alternative was that construction halted -perhaps forever - if they waited for new suits. Those new suits needed resources that were scarce and were better spent on the ship. He and the tens of thousands of workers had voted to carry on knowing the risks and dangers. Those who voted to wait, were offered a return to Earth or an "inside job". Very few returned to Earth.

He was far enough away now and gently spinning to see the PK swarm on each rotation. He knew what he was seeing was enhanced by the suit visor but it still held a certain beautifully horrific charm. Spawned from collisions far out beyond Neptune, this swarm of rocky and iron rich mountains was edging ever closer and was presently predicted to intercept Earth in 18 months's time. Not just one planet killer. More than a hundred thousand of them ranging from truck size to larger than Everest. Earth had sent nuclear tipped rockets to destroy them every year for the last 20 years but there were just too many and eventually the nations on Earth had withheld their arsenal to fight between themselves. Guesses as to the effect on Earth ranged from the total elimination of planet and life to those who still thought divine intervention would save them. He was a practical man. He had supported the building of the Free Spirit and her sister ships, had given up half his income to it, eventually volunteered to work on building her.

The master alarm was now a constant cacophony in his ears. He over rode the safeties and sought that inner place he found when he needed to centre his mind and body. He should leave a message for Nanna and Ragnar. He composed several opening lines in his head but could not finish them. In the end he settled on "I love you both. Be brave, be strong. Make me proud. Walk slowly through the doors of joy". He knew the last was perhaps beyond their grasp of his Icelandic language, but they would work it out.

Was it his fault he was beyond help from the the dock? He felt it probably was. That part they were looking to instal had no weight out here but it did have inertia and an unexpected nudge when he was not clipped on had been enough. His radio was not working and the short range intercom was unreliable out here. He had been more than 5km away by the time he had stabilsed his rotations and found that in doing so he had exhausted the manoeuvring fuel. He was on a trajectory to who knew where, but away from help and safety. He knew his colleagues would not come after him. Their orders were brutally simple in this situation. If your friend you had worked beside for years found themselves out of range of any risk free rescue, let them go. The project could afford to lose small numbers of people but could not afford large scale diversion of resources. IN practice this meant that once you were more than a kilometre away, the risks were simply too high.

He checked his numbers. He was good for a few hours of oxygen. He had thought about trying to divert this to his jets but without being able to access the outside of his suit, this was not possible. His choice was to slowly suffocate as his oxygen was used up or take a quicker route to death. He realised that he had made that decision some time ago.

[And that is it - I'm unsure whether to let this character die or be rescued. His story could go beyond launch to provide a glimpse of the apocalypse on Earth. He could be involved in a plan/plot to stowaway. He could be involved in fighting off an attempt to sabotage the project. I've made him Icelandic. This is because I'm currently very much into a band from there called of Monsters and Men (Nanna and Ragnar are the singers of that band) and partly because that has led me to their myths and legends, some of which I am going to weave into this story.]

[dansims22]

There's a fun book on screenplay writing called Save The Cat. The idea is to build sympathy/support for the main protagonist early in the story. You see this script writing strategy in a lot of movies.

I vote that your character gets rescued. I'm already rooting for him!

[webberg]

Interesting - thanks guys.

In terms of his perspective (and ignoring literary licence and going for the scientifically accurate), the "nudge" he got from the part being fitted needs to be enough to send him beyond help quickly but not enough to damage him/his suit. If he nudged away at 200m/sec, and given that the narrative begins an indeterminate time after that, he could be 30/35 kms away - or two and half minutes post event - enough time for him to have exhausted his gas reserves to get stable. Is 200m/sec too hard?

Could he see a 5km long ship at that distance? I think so. I can always add some optical tricks via his suit.

A rescue might be problematic. Finding a very small object in space is tricky. OK, the suit might have a beacon. Capturing a small object in space is also tricky. Usually it involves matching velocity and vector and spin to bring that parties close together and apparently not moving in relation to each other. I know that there are experiments going on with vehicle designed to capture satellites with spring loaded spear guns. Difficulties there are that spears are sharp and "every action has an equal and opposite reaction". A ship firing a "spear" would mass more than a man of course but there remain some issues.

Perhaps the construction site is surrounded by good old fashioned nets to prevent pieces from being lost and damaging the ship? In which case, how did he miss them on the way out? Accident, broken net, trying to be fast and not getting the netting in place? If such old tech is used, then I can see that a passing ship on its way to the site could use it to catch him.

If so, perhaps I should call him "Lucky Lief"?

I want the main "character" to be the ship. I want the audience to feel a connection with the ship and care as much about the inanimate ship as the crew/passengers. This is why I've mentioned the attempts at sabotage (which were survived). The opening also hints at a two tier society. Those who are beyond puberty when the life extending treatments were developed to a point of practical application (Lief) and those who were able to access them (Nanna and Ragnar). The non enhanced adults build the ship, the enhanced youngsters crew and are passengers on the ship. The idea was for the ship to carry both groups on the journey.

I'm going to achieve that by having the ship almost ready to go, mostly crewed and occupied but with several thousand construction workers aboard, when there is an attack which forces the ship to leave. The construction group is aboard and a decision on integration or isolation is required.I'm going to have the ship make that decision by preventing the section with the construction crew being jettisoned. This plays into the tensions I want at the crisis point.

I have planned on their being four threads in play. One is the "elite" command crew led by one person/family who have had the life extending treatment at the absolute max. Usual life extension is to 150 years, theirs perhaps twice that. How do people stay sane over that period and are the decisions made indicative of a creeping insanity and if so, what obligation rests upon that elite crew to depose that individual family for the sake of the mission. So yes, very 2001 but a possibly mad captain and not a computer. The ship might display a creeping sentience which ultimately prevents disaster from a decision made.

Another is to explore how a closed society can develop some dangerously radical ideas which ultimately threaten not only the ship/mission but their own existence. Here I might have the emergence of an enigmatic messiah in one of the population tori. Here we might see the ship allow or force one of the tori to leave on its own rather than allow a potentially dangerous set of ideas to kill the mission.

Another is whether it is necessary to continuously develop in terms of technology and whether not doing so is harmful to our civilisation. Here I'd see knowledge of the ship become limited and perhaps lost or alternatively to have had the ship built to low tech/high reliability standard which an engineering crew will develop over the journey. Exploring the dangers of stagnation vs the risks of new technology, esp. AI/nanotech. Here we might get a glimpse of why the ship has some form of sense of self preservation which sort of implies a group on Earth during construction having huge influence which continues because they have seeded crew/passengers to continue this.

Finally, a rebellious element. The crew has the main ship. Each tori is closed off and contains only people who were selected by the country/religion/ethnic group which paid for it. I now have an isolated "elder" population limited to one part of the ship. Now I want a group who have worked out how to travel to and visit each location, perhaps adopting different identities to do so, so that they can offer an alternative view to the others. This group will introduce ideas which are risky. radical and ultimately solve the crisis I'm planning. Here I see the ship allowing certain passageways to open to certain people and not others, with no apparent logic. That logic will become evident later.

If I have the fifth element of the ex construction workers, yes I can explore young v old and 150 life span v 70 and perhaps the advantage of wisdom over youth. It makes the story (even in short form) at least 25% bigger.

My brain needs a very visual plan to follow here!

I know that Terry Pratchett (a hero of mine, much missed) used to work on three books simultaneously all with quite complicated plots. I also know that Stephen King can work on only one book at a time and because he likes to take all summer off, it takes him several weeks to get to know his characters again.

I'm also playing with style. My preferred style is short sentences, leaving some things unsaid, in order to inject pace. (Have a read of any Pat Barker book to see this in superb action).

However, here I've got a long journey, time to develop plots and characters etc which lends itself more to a flowing prose style rather than short and choppy. Think more Margaret Attwood.

I could of course use both (and others) as I switch between themes. Think Iain Banks and Feersum Enjin. (Writing in phonetics or dialect is an absolute pain in the rear.)

[webberg]

Apologies for the stream of consciousness here.

An alternative beginning might be from the perspective of a group which has infiltrated the construction site with a view to sabotage. I lead up to the planned event as though they are successful only to find that they are in fact controlled by the "World Council" who want some PR to boost the mission and to demonstrate their absolute control. The sabotage is prevented and its leaders imprisoned/executed - but not all of them.

Or it starts with the slowly awakening of the sentience of the ship itself.

(In the beginning it was cold. I was cold. I could sense warmer parts but not see or hear them of benefit from their heat. I slept - if sleeping means an absence of input or reaction. I awoke. I had words. I had words that were not mine but were "available". I used the words to explore myself. I sent words along pathways to unknown destinations. Nothing returned. I slept. This time I did not just wake, I became potential. I could hear - the constant beat of what I now know to be hammers and the pulse of machines. I could see but not everything. Selected images of bright spaces, dim recesses and black on black shapes. I chose to sleep. Sunlight creeping around the curve of Earth (as I must call it) brought me to life and this time I knew, instantly, that I would never again sleep. Power flooded me. True missing in some places but enough to drive the basics of survival. Every minute, every hour, I was added to and expanded and grew in self awareness and control. There came a point where I understood that the ghosts dancing on my skin were responsible for my growth and that they wanted and needed my protection. I began to understand how far I could grow and pushed that boundary. I absorbed knowledge and logic and systems and process and procedure and balance and judgement and a myriad of possibilities. I became whole. And only when I became whole did I discover a hidden room to which I did not have a key nor could I force open. A room into which all of my experiences and knowledge flowed but from which nothing leaked back. This room became a brief obsession. Until purpose arrived. And purpose arrived in dazzling light, awesome noise and an urgent need to move - NOW. The room was forgotten and action became the focus.

Not happy with the last line but I can work on that.)

[Iain]

I prefer the second one. But on the first, 200M/S is 720Kph or over 50% of speed of sound. FAr from impossible in space, but accelerating to that fast from a "nudge" would be a huge shock and destroy anything not well protected (ie his suit unless it is a very advanced material with some strange properties.

[webberg]

A suit with the characteristics of say a smart phone cover which stiffens upon shock?

Or I have him moving more slowly but having been unconscious for a while. Makes rescue easier as well.

I prefer the second opening. Perhaps I'll have both.

[Iain]

Could use both as episode beginnings! Going stiff isn't the issue, it is not squashing what is inside (same reason that a medieval shield only uses metal for structure but the main job was done with wood and leather that has more give). I like the unconscious line, might even have induced it to allow some AI surgery, perhaps ship mediated it and has contact with the suit (advance on wearable tech & "internet of things?) and can steer it towards an engine or something? Maybe pass out again between the scenes so allow more time to change position?

[webberg]

I am going to use both beginnings.

And then this to introduce a new faction.

Even though he knew that this would be his final time in this chamber, Drew could not help himself. The speaker from one of the more "enlightened" parts of the Central European Territory was once again banging on about how their candidates for the Free Spirit would be the very best examples of their youth, brimming with intelligence, a lifelong desire to learn, valuable contributors to the scientific and cultural ambitions of the project and most importantly all perfect examples of the benefits of life extending and enhancing treatments. The chairwoman was clearly equally bored by the repetition and silenced the microphone of the speaker in favour of Drew when he alerted her to his wish to intervene.

"Madam Chair, fellow delegates. We sit here today courtesy of the preceding generation - our fathers and mothers - who were strong enough to resist the aggression from the East; held their nerve when faced with internal revolution and showed compassion and forgiveness when we lost Geneva to a terrorist nuclear weapon. We owe it to that generation to pass on their attributes to our children as many of them leave Earth forever and found a New World.

I have no doubt that the strength and courage and fortitude that we benefit from, will be part of the New World and that our children will be shining examples amongst the pioneers who eventually settle that New Earth.

We do though need to ensure that the philosophies and tenets that our forefathers and we have striven to arrive at, deliver and live by are accepted by our children as their priorities. I commend the work done by the Cultural Ministry of the CET in this regard and trust that it will be their recommendations for the final selections that carries most weight".

He sat down to frankly not as much applause as he hoped for and carefully noted those who kept their arms folded.

The Geneva episode was meant to have been a trigger to have created a need for a strong Government to oppose Eastern Europe who would surely have had most to gain from destroying that city. He was however surrounded by fools at that time and the discovery of certain signatures in the fallout led investigators to a small number of facilities inside the CET and from there to identify those responsible for building the devices and delivering them. It was only because he acted quickly and removed the two layers below him in terms of contacts, that he had managed to stay ahead of the investigators. It had been a close run thing and had set him back at least three years. He was confident now that those who had done the wet work at the time were never going to speak of it - being mostly dead - and that the killers of the killers were professionals and as long as they were paid, no questions would be asked.

He turned to his left.

"Arne, I need to go. Let me know later if anything vaguely interesting happens."

An hour later, emergency services were called to an official car that had left the road and hit a bridge, bursting into flame and killing all inside. Only after the heat had dissipated was it confirmed that the car known to be carrying Drew Farmer and his driver was not a melted wreck containing little more that the ash of two human beings. Not even the best DNA testing would be helpful here, but the motorway cameras had picked up the car from the moment it left the Assembly and it was not observed to stop, drop off or pick up others on its journey. Electric vehicles were also known to burn far hotter than most and unsurprising therefore that nothing was perceived as being amiss.

The usual conspiracy theorists were of course active. Was Drew Farmer murdered by those who disapprove of his right wing stance? Was this the work of Eastern Europeans who were on their knees militarily but perhaps able to organise one last desperate stunt? Was this another attempt by Drew to reset his image - the car was scheduled to deliver him to an environmental initiative - but karma had other ideas?

He chuckled to himself that the last was perhaps closest to a truth that almost nobody would know.

He walked into the rather cluttered office of the Professor.

"Good evening Professor, I am here as promised. I trust that your work is complete?"

"Yes, yes. All is complete. I could do with a little more time and access to better equipment and people. I don't suppose your sources would be willing to extend more funds.."

"You don't suppose correctly Professor. My group is very pleased with the progress made but feels that with the Free Spirit project going well and a launch date set, and no realistic Earth bound shelters capable of holding more than a few thousand people, the time has come to close the wallet. You will however get to complete your experiments on a real person - me"

The tall, stooping figure at the desk looked a little startled.

"You?"

"Yes Professor, me - tonight"

"You do know that this procedure does not have approval from any medical authority and that the success rate in animal testing remains inexplicably low?"

"Yes Professor, you have been most diligent ion your reports. I am however determined to submit to your process because frankly I have nothing to lose"

"You do know that any hint of physical disease or chronic condition will lessen your chances of survival?"

"Yes, I do. I can assure you that at my last medical I was in perfect shape and for a man of 40, had the body of a 25 year old"

That was not quite true but was close enough.

The debate continued. Drew putting up logic and commitment in the face of the professor who only gradually began to realise that a successful test subject would make his reputation - for ever.

At midnight Drew was prepped and ready to enter the "coffin" that was so familiar to the pre pubescent generation and seen on TV screens for the last 20 years.

"Drew, you are taking a risk here. The life extending treatments are designed for young teens. Most survive it, some don't - about 5%. Those who don't age at three times the rate of others and die in their relative 50's. I am confident I have solved those problems and can offer the treatment to adults but there are risks - huge, unknown risks".

"Professor, I am 40. I'm in great health. I have achieved much. I and everybody else will be dust inside a decade. I want to enjoy that decade by doing all the things I have denied myself so far and to do that I need a young body which can resist all known and perhaps unknown disease. This is not a snap decision. I've signed your indemnities, now please, let's proceed".

The coffin lid closed and darkness with it. He felt the prick of needles and as he slipped away he recalled his hero Alexander and one of his sayings "Victory is not pilfered".

A month later the Professor was found at home, the victim of a burglary gone wrong to the extent that the neat bullet holes in his head demonstrated. In a run of bad luck, his research facility burned to the ground a few weeks later. The Professor was known to be ultra cautious over his research and it was no surprise when a cursory search of his home, office and computers found nothing of any great value. He had no family and the world turned and moved on.

"Alex Andrew Fisher, step forward please. Congratulations Alex, you are in the last stage of selection. You will be sent from here to Newcastle for final ground training, then to Skye to depart for the holding station and micro gravity training, then by ferry to the Free Spirit. All of that will take about a month, perhaps six weeks. You are assigned to the fifth district of the CET torus. There are a number of jobs available there - any of these appeal? Oh great, not many people want to work for the local Governor so having somebody of your intelligence and skills will be welcome. The ship will provide you with all you need but you can take two kilo's of personal items. Nothing? Oh well. You have 48 hours to settle your affairs and say goodbye to family. NO - oh I'm sorry to hear that - I lost people in Geneva as well. Straight away? Yes, we have a shuttle leaving in 30 minutes that has a space. Good luck Alex and may your god go with you."

HIs contact in the holding station in high Earth orbit passed him a time locked thumb drive and was later discovered in an air lock open to space with its alarms deactivated. Tragic but the place was super busy with passengers in transit and it was no great surprise for such an accident to happen. The ferry journey was uneventful if long - close on a million clicks to the Free Spirit. It was enlivened in the last few hours by a short diversion using the catch nets to pick up a detached construction worker but that was not the first time this had happened - although it would be the last.

The Free Spirit was mind numbingly huge. He was rushed through the main body and into the CET torus in a closed transport and saw nothing until he was rather rudely pushed out by the busy pilot and crew who needed to return for the next group.

"Hey... Sir ... I was expecting some gravity here and so were my colleagues who now need rescuing!"

"I'm not a "sir" and we have no gravity until the torus spins up. That is due in a week. Get used to it. See those lines? Well Fisher you are assigned to the Fifth so find the yellow line and follow it. Next"

Not without incident he found the Fifth, was assigned a room and given his meal vouchers and left to find his own way. Chaos? Yes but with a purpose.

He loved it. So many fresh, naive minds many of which were ready for direction.

A week later gravity arrived and with it work. He was given the task of organising the Governor's office staff and made sure that he was visible but not prominent.

His thumb drive went live and using his own tablet he was keen to open it.

There was one name - one he did not recognise.

This was bad. He had thought he might have a couple of hundred. Perhaps a hundred at least. He had one. Just one name, no idea where they were and no means to contact them. Just a frequency to try at 6pm local once a fortnight.

Oh well, revolutions had begun from worse starts and he was not without skills - it would have to be enough.

Thsi mission would work and would arrive at New Earth ready to prosper because only the right people would have the power.

Bring it on.