Evacuation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 2) (10 page)

I’m up early but somehow my mind is not right for going to the lab to work. Sofie is gnawing at me. I want to see her; I need to see her. Maybe I should whisk her away for a day at the beach? She would really love that. Except for the part that she would have to spend the day with me. What if she doesn’t forgive me? Then it would be a mean thing to do to her, not something she would like.

That leads me back to researching her family tree. The alternative is to think of another thing I can do for her to break the ice and at least start a conversation. But that just seems like procrastinating; I doubt that I will come up with a better idea anytime soon.

Maybe if I grind it out for an hour or so I’ll come across something interesting enough to keep me going. Who knows, there could be an explorer or a scientist in her lineage. I’m sure the story of her ancestors will not be as intriguing as her story is becoming, but all I need is something more than a housewife and a quiet farmer.

Based on her mother’s maiden name and the first name of her father’s older brother, I am able to go back a couple of generations. It’s not easy. It’s as if there was an intentional effort to keep mention of parents and children separate so that no one could tie together a family history. I can’t believe that to be true, as none of the people I have found worked for the government or big business of any kind. Sofie comes from a long line of farmers, schoolteachers and local shop owners.

I plug away for longer than I thought I could, but it’s just about time to head over to the lab. We have to start construction on a new warp unit today. I wish I had a thread to pull on for Sofie’s family tree. Until her parents, longevity seems to have been a trait on both sides. I wish I could go back more than two generations for her. Maybe I’ll set a hard stop at three generations and put together a nice report. I can probably get that done during some down time today.

After a shower and some coffee, I don’t make it to the lab before the morning meeting. In fact, I’m a little late for that, too. Dad is obviously absent and Sofie is missing again. Somehow Mom is not mad about it. I thought for sure she would lecture Grace about rotating with Sofie to make sure they were both able to attend a couple of meetings a week.

“What’s the fastest growing vegetable we have?” Mom asks, questioning William.

“I don’t now, what?” William asks in return. He thinks it’s a trivia game.

“I’m asking,” Mom explains, a little annoyed. “When we get to wherever it is we are going, ‘life’ will not mean grocery stores and civilization. We can’t assume that there will be plants safe for us to eat, so we are going to have to grow our own. That will take at least three months if we start seeds when we get there.”

“We can start some seeds now and bring them with us. That could give us a bridge between growing from scratch and what we can bring with us,” Grace says. It’s a good suggestion.

“Will there be animals on the new planet?” Liam doesn’t know how to ask good questions, but the concept is valid.

The scope of what we are trying to accomplish washes over me again. A planet supporting life does not mean life as we know it. The entire planet could be covered in grasses and water. No trees. No accessible rocks or soil. Constructing shelter from natural resources could be impossible. It could rain for most of the day, every day. The chances of finding a planet that supports life are low. Finding one that supports human life is even less likely.

I look around the room wondering if everyone else is as defeated as I am. We’ve become so wrapped up in the project of surviving that none of us have thought about how we will survive. My piece of the puzzle is so small. Maybe we should reconsider poisoning the planet and come up with a new plan to stay here. I can’t say anything negative though. Mom is reading something on her screen and she is very intent. The room is quiet as we all think about the issues we face.

“I lost the plot a little bit about the fact that the response protocol was not a survival protocol,” Mom says. “The response team has done a great job of following the protocol. Unfortunately, having a chicken cell on the new planet will not make it easier for us to get a chicken. Let me think through a few things today and I will share new actions with all of you before dinner. We are going to need to build an ark.”

It’s not her fault, but Mom has clearly established herself as the leader, so she feels responsible for all of us. I need to focus on getting our craft completed ASAP so that I can provide even minor assistance with all the extra work we are about to come up with.

After the morning meeting, I head straight to the lab. No coffee today. In addition to the launch sequencing and data logging, Jane has us doing quality testing. After we build a part, we need to determine how to test it and then complete the test. It is a little bit tricky to figure out how to test your own thing because you tend to think of tests you know will work. Finding ways to make my components fail has become somewhat of a game and is actually making my stuff more robust.

“What’s easier?” Jane is the last one into the lab. “Building one complete warp unit at a time or building a few at once?”

I look to Cassandra, who is thinking through the process. She is not prepared to offer an opinion.

“I like the idea of having complete units built,” I offer. “My vote is for one at a time.”

“Cassandra?” Jane asks, looking to her daughter expectantly.

“Give me a minute.” Cassandra is doing some calculations and planning in her head. After more than a minute, she is ready. “I think that we can build four at once, only adding about two hours to the manufacturing process for one.”

Cassandra is off her stool and headed to the whiteboard, where Jane and I meet her. She begins to write an ordered list on one side with several rough drawings on the other side. I’m not sure if this morning is the first time she’s thought of it, but she is documenting the entire build process. In documenting the process, she has identified efficiencies and areas to increase the yield of our manufacturing efforts. Her years at Ames have taught her skills that don’t come from a book.

I have no additions or criticisms for her work. Nothing is ever perfect, but whatever the flaws are I cannot see them. We all agree to build four units at once. Jane has identified an area that she is comfortable working on and will begin to contribute to manufacturing warp units. Cassandra and I have to retrench a little bit to replicate our first few steps, but it won’t be difficult, just a little time consuming. By tomorrow, we should be really humming along.

I’m experiencing a little
déjà vu
from when I did this work yesterday. The code doesn’t need to be rewritten, but it does need to be loaded onto the processors and tested. There are several steps that require waiting a few minutes while the transfers complete. It’s okay though, as I take the chance to do a little more research on Sofie’s family tree.

Most of the day has been spent in this workmanlike manner. Building components of the warp unit, testing them, and researching the Lange family. It’s not mentally or physically taxing, but the time goes by fast enough. I’ve finally found information on the third generation of Sofie’s ancestors and the last thing I need is to find a report format that makes the information look nice.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Mom says. She is standing in the doorway. “I’ve printed out a list of items we’ve thought of. Basically I asked myself the question, ‘If you were stranded on a desert island, what would you need to rebuild civilization?’ Liam helped me out with some ideas, too.” She hands papers to Jane and Cassandra.

“If you could read the list and add to it today, that would be helpful. Liam is going to arrange a place for us to put the items on the list. He will work with Paddrick when he returns and come up with a way to pack them for our trip,” Mom says, still holding the paper I assume is for me. “Just please remember that we are focused on food, water and shelter. To last a lifetime.”

Mom crosses the lab and hands me the final sheet of paper. It has no special makings on it or handwritten notes. I’m not sure why she held onto it for the extra time.  She smiles at me and lets her stare linger.

“It’s a long list. You may need to take a walk to get your head around it,” she says. Mom is not saying this to all three of us. She speaks softly; it’s meant just for me.

“Bye” is the last thing Mom says, and she is out the door.

Why does she want me to take a walk? Does she mean now or should I take a walk later when I have the time to think about the list? Is she trying to get me away from Jane and Cassandra? Maybe she doesn’t realize that we are all working well together now and I don’t need help ‘escaping’ from them. Now I’m distracted. I need to take a walk to clear my head, not to think about the list.

“I need some fresh air,” I announce while getting up to leave.

There is no need for response from the Crenshaws. I haven’t asked for permission and I wasn’t seeking input. They oblige by withholding any acknowledgement of my statement.

The first thing I see outside is the boys riding their bikes. I quickly scan to the grass and find Sofie sitting on her blanket. There is a lap desk beside her, and I can see a small rock on top. Is it possible that Mom engineered this whole situation? Could this be what she wanted me to find when she suggested I go for a walk? It doesn’t really matter; I have to take this opportunity to talk with her.  

Sofie must know that I am walking over to her, but she never looks at me. If she gets up to leave, I will run after her. If she stays and waits for me, I need a good opening line. That is going to be a problem.

“Hey.” Not a strong start from me, but she didn’t leave. “I was trying to figure out if I was the biggest moron in the history of the world. So I started researching your family tree.” Oooh, that didn’t come out sounding very good.

“So you think me and my family are stupid?” Sofie has a slight smirk.

“No. Not at all. In fact, I couldn’t find that much information on your family at all.” I’m not doing well. “Let me start over. I’m the biggest moron in history and I’m sorry,” I say.

“Seamus, you’re not a moron,” she says, looking off to the distance. “It’s just that you really hurt me. But it’s not all your fault. I never thought my silly dreams mattered, so I didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” I’m intrigued.

“My parents met when they were thirteen. They got married at seventeen. The only person either of them ever kissed romantically was each other. Growing up, I never thought that I would be able to share something so special and romantic like they did. But then you kissed me in the pool and it was the first time anyone had ever kissed me like that,” she says. It sounds like she may start to cry.

“It was the only time I ever kissed anyone like that,” I say. It’s the truth.

“Except for Cassandra.” She’s looking at me as if she remembered why she was so upset with me. “I’m sorry, but that is how I see it. There probably are not enough people left in the world for it to be fair for me to nitpick, but my heart is still telling me to be sad.”

“I can’t argue with how you feel,” I say. I need to be open and hope for more chances to make it up to her. “I don’t love Cassandra. It would be impossible for me to kiss her the same way that I kissed you in the pool. Or the same way that I want to kiss you now.”

It’s a little before lunch and I’m sitting on the grass with Sofie. We are talking about how to build different things. The conversation started with her asking me how nails are made. We can bring some nails with us, but someday a future generation is going to need to make new nails. What can we do to make that possible?

I try to stay focused on the interesting aspects of the challenge. Start from a broad base of knowledge and information, but with reduced physical resources. Do we build a windmill first? Or, depending on the geography, maybe a water-powered mill would be the right place to start. I assume we’ll need a forge at some point to produce iron and steel, but that seems like an impossible task. How did they build the first forge ever?

Out of nowhere, a plane comes screaming overhead. It’s in a tight bank and seems extremely low to be traveling at the speed it is going. It can only be Dad returning in the space plane. What if he crashes? How will we get a replacement space plane? I’m bothered that my first thought was about the plane and not about how we can move forward without Dad. Just as quickly as it appeared, the plane is out of sight.

Liam comes hobbling out of the house. “Did you see that?” he asks no one in particular.

“Must have been Dad,” I say. I still can’t help but state the obvious to Liam. I hope Dad’s not struggling with the flight characteristics of the space plane.

“Liam, can I help you with that?” Sofie says, on her feet and walking over to Liam.

I just noticed that he is carrying a suitcase. There is no way to tell what is inside of it and I want to tell him to put labels on things. The pile of junk we are going to try and bring with us is growing and most of it makes sense to me, but some of it seems questionable. An axe and a saw make sense; I’ll even concede plastic cups, but I can’t understand the need for a ream of paper.

“Sit back down. I have to do stuff, too,” Liam says. He is not going to let Sofie help. “After this, I have to go get one of the tugs fired up to tow the space plane back here.”

“You are too much, Liam,” Sofie says, laughing and shaking her head. “If I ever get injured, you will not have to tell me to take it easy more than once.”

“Baloney!” I say. I have to call her out. “You never stop working. It may not be carrying stuff around, but I’m sure you would find something to do.”

“Well, you’d be happy to sit in front of a computer screen and let everyone else do things for you,” Liam says, smiling broadly. We all know who is the softest of the three of us. 

“I just do a different kind of work than the two of you,” I say petulantly. I know we’re joking around, but I don’t want to look bad.

“Yeah, the kind that no one can see,” Sofie says, taking a jab that stings me a little.

The space plane races overhead again. It appears to be in control except for the fact that it is low and going so fast. My guess is that Dad is going back and forth to scrub off some speed. If that is the case, though, I wonder why the landing gear is not down to increase the drag. I’m sure that he read the flight manual for the ship, but I hope he knows what he’s doing.

Without any more teasing, Liam tosses the suitcase on the pile and points his crutches toward the hangar. Sofie is helping one of the kids with his shoe. I need to get back to the lab and verify the result of a build that just completed. I can’t say that I enjoyed my bit of time with Sofie, but I’m glad I had the chance.

“See you later, Sofie,” I say as I walk off the grass.

“Not if I see you first,” she says, and smiles back at me.

On my way back into the lab building, I peek into the conference room. As expected, Mom is sitting at her laptop and reading. On the table in front of her are a bunch of tubes and plastic ties. It seems like an odd collection of stuff and I can’t imagine what Mom is doing with it.

“I assume that was Dad I heard buzzing the field?” She doesn’t look up before speaking. How does she do that?

“I hope so. Otherwise we have something else to deal with.” The only other survivors we know of are in quarantine across the runway. There was that guy in Hawaii, but we haven’t heard from him since the first contact with McMurdo. If he’s sailing here we can’t wait for him, but a new arrival would be interesting. “What’s all this?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Mom says, and closes her laptop so she can talk with me. “I’ve been working on hydroponic gardening. Water is a must for us to survive, but what if the soil is too acidic for growing food? Or at least the food we know today. We’ll have to go soilless.”

“Cool.” I’m not sure why she’s glad I asked.

“I need you to help me measure different wavelengths of light,” she says. She seems to have been waiting for me to offer help. “I know the biosphere in Arizona didn’t work out, but if we are forced to stay in space longer than planned, I think we can grow food and at least clean the air a little. I’m just worried that the plants will get fried by the wrong kind of light.”

“They must have tried to do this on the space station.” I am willing to help but replicating efforts is a pet peeve.

“Nothing at a scale that would benefit several people,” Mom says. It does not surprise me that she has at least checked into it. “There have been several projects that are Earth-bound and they have come up with a lot of answers. I’m convinced, however, that the failures that have occurred in space are related to the light waves that reach the plant leaves.”

I know that there are smart people who have worked on these problems before. Why does it seem like we are able to solve them? I guess it’s because we have to. When you are pursuing something out of curiosity, it must be easier to keep your thinking inside the box. When you need to solve something so that you can live, no options are ever ruled out. This is another area that psychologists would have a field day studying.

“Okay,” I say. I’m not sure how I can help her. “Is there something specific you have for me to do?”

“Yes.” She’s smiling. Mom knows how I work and I’m sure she had this planned before we ever started talking.

We spend the next 30 minutes going through her idea for an experiment related to wavelengths of light. It is not as far off from my solar sail efforts as I would have thought. Mom is amazing. Not only is she coordinating the efforts of everyone, she is working on an area all her own.

“The space plane is here!” Cassandra yells from the doorway for a second and then she rushes away to see our new toy.

“Before you go, I have one more request,” Mom says to me, her hand on my arm. “I need you to explain to everyone what you think this warp experience is going to be like.”

I haven’t really thought about what it will be like for us. Will it be like a roller coaster? Or will it be more like commercial air travel? Are we going to need to secure loose items so they don’t fly around the cabin or is it going to be more like a car trip? Cassandra’s concerns about acceleration are coming back to me. I remember that I had an idea for the solar sail that involved counter gravity, but I’m not sure why this is coming to me now.

“I’ll work on putting something together,” I say, looking Mom directly in the eyes. “Can it wait a week or two until we are closer to making an actual jump?”

“It’s okay to tell me you have no idea what it will be like, Seamus,” Mom says, not smiling, but I know she is fine with whatever answer I give her.

“Then I have no idea what this is going to be like. I was hoping I could explain it after I go through it for the first test,” I say, looking at the floor, studying the carpet fibers for an answer.