11
Proxima B, at the ancient East Pole Detention Centre-
Caleb Gonzalez had that gnawing crunch in his gut that not only had he done something wrong, but that he wouldn't even get what he'd aimed for out of it. Well… at least, not without a lot of help and quick thinking. Like Mrs. Tracy always said, "Wherever ya fetch up, turn y'r hand ta what ya find there."
So, the dark-haired substitute aquanaut followed his rescuers to their underground headquarters, seeing the sights and learning some names in the process. The tallest and most talkative was named Zed. Turned out to have greyish-blond hair and blue eyes, when he removed his helmet, at detox.
"It is being lucky, Sir and Meester Kabe, that we are to preparing for patrol, in doing normal-wise. We are arriving quickly, when is sounding alarm."
Another, shorter officer, this one called Yona, nodded eagerly.
"We are to otherwise not reaching in soon enough time," she assured him. The other guy, Foln, was sort of shy. Real curious about Caleb, but more of a thinker than a talker, like John Tracy or Josh, back home.
One was halfway brunette, the other with hair so fine and silver-transparent, it hardly counted, at all. Two were blue-eyed, but Foln had eyes almost Gordon Tracy amber. Or, wait… grey. No, green, or… Shoot. Never mind.
Anyways, they didn't look all that much like Kaise or… or… Sharl, that was her name! These guys weren't all one colour or shape. Like, Yona had some actual curves, Bro. They were more different. More, hmmm… 'individual', to pull out one of his best five-credit words.
Being among 'em still made him smile, though. Even in trouble, stuck in detention on the wrong frickin' planet. It felt like home; like closer to Kaise. They talked a lot. Or, rather, Zed and Yona talked. Foln shook his head and Caleb listened, while they stripped on out of their radiated, battered green armour in detox. Wore olive-drab, GDF-style peace-keeper clothes, underneath.
"Is to being no contact from Airth, Sir and Meester, and only distress beacon from Merz, in whole cycles of Time Parts!" Zed confided, after they'd been fully hosed down and lemon-scented.
"You are to coming from Airth? You are to explaining what is passing, there?" broke in Yona, wringing her long-fingered hands.
Caleb looked like a squat, chubby dwarf by comparison. Felt dragged-on by all that heavy-world gravity; like he was all the time trudging through deep snow and mud.
"I'm from Earth," he confirmed. "But not the one from this time. My Earth's not in the dang soup, like that one always is! Dude, it's like seven-hundred years is the nexus of crud! The crossroads of crap! Something, for real, always goes wrong at FN700! What the flip, yo?!"
Well, he'd been noticing things as they left detox and walked along those very straight, narrow streets: lots of whirring red flare-warning lights, very few people (and all of those drifting along in wraparound VR headsets), no decorations or signs. How Zed and the crew found their way around was a complete mystery to Caleb, at first.
He'd had to dispose of his radiation-fouled IR recruit uniform, switching into a too-long, too-tight "basic garment". Dull grey with bits of circuits worked in, like everything else he'd seen in this place. Dang, man… did detention have to be so frickin' dismal?
Headquarters turned out to be in the centre of the centre. (Heh!) Just a slightly larger dull metal square with one irising doorway. The door made a grinding sound, with some soulful moan thrown in, rather than swishing right open like in the movies. Caleb felt cheated.
Inside, he got a surprise when Zed and Yona parted to go stand beside a plain-looking office desk, while Foln sat down in the chair behind it.
"Dude!" the freckle-faced neo-aquanaut blurted. "You're in charge? You, like, run this place?"
Foln smiled shyly.
"It is being my quarter to direct, Sir and Meester," he replied. Then, calling up a virtual screen in the faintly sparking air over his desk, Foln said, "We are to being in suspense for how to treating you, Meester Kabe. You are not being an inmate or refugee, and not having status of official visitor. Can you please to explaining your coming here?"
"Sure," Caleb told him, after taking the chair that Yona brought from a side-room. Felt really good to sit down; like he'd just taken about two-hundred-seventy pounds off his feet. But he was cool about it. Didn't grunt, or anything. Just kept on talking. "I used the prototype transport disk back home in the lab to try and reach Earth, seven-hundred years in my future. I mean, I had the coordinates busted out, and everything. I know I put 'em in right! All I wanted to do was find my girlfriend, Kaise. She's… y'know… you'll understand, when you meet her, how much I can't let her fade right outta my life. She's more than just beautiful. She's... I mean, we were talking about hooking up, permanent. Like, marriage n' junk. I miss her, okay? A lot. Can you help me find her? Is there, like, a public citizen database here, too?"
Caleb was surprised by the way his own voice had started to shake. Not going to cry, dang it! Not gonna frickin' cry! Focused on the desk. Saw that his filtered image on Foln's VR screen had turned varying shades of blue and green, with little glowing symbols beside it.
"You are truthing to us," Foln sighed. "This is to making us trouble, but also maybe to helping. I will to soon looking for Kaise… Bek-dotter? To yes, Sir and Meester? Good. Kaise Bek-dotter will be searching for. You will to helping us learn of Airth, and what is to be doing for their condition."
There was a big, blue and red flag, or something, on the wall behind Foln's squeaky grey office chair. Brightest colours Caleb had seen since leaving that broiled red surface. Not very fancy, like WorldGov's plow and star; just two slightly spiraling swooshes. Still, better than more frickin' dang grey.
"Deal!" he agreed. Whatever it took, bro. "Tell me what you know about Air… Earth, and we'll go from there."
Turned out to be a long, weird-butt story, most of which Foln had from third-hand, or plain guess work, but… Here and now, Proxima B was a low-grade detention centre; the place you sent pick-pockets, religious nuts and people who wouldn't conform to Unity. There were settlements on both the East Pole (directly facing that awful, unsetting sun) and the West Pole (locked in eternal darkness, bro). Roaring winds never ceased, ducked only with powerful force-shielding and underground structures. A prison, in every sense of the word.
Those currently here weren't mostly criminals, but their frickin' descendants. 'Cause they hadn't got a new case in over a hundred Time Parts, and Earth wouldn't pay for transport back home… although you could work off the cost of your fare, in theory. Most didn't bother, though. Except for a few late-generation guards, technicians and medics, most folks preferred to wear constant VR headsets and stay locked in their own shared paradise. Caleb didn't much get the specifics, but Yona was closest to "release"; proud to say that her future grandchild, if the family kept on working hard, would have earned the fare back to Airth.
"Dude," Caleb cut in. "Not to make waves, Brosters, but that kinda sucks! I mean, you didn't do anything wrong! And you're still here, working in jail, hoping to buy your grandkid some freedom? What the goof?"
Said Yona, from her spot to the left of Foln's desk,
"My ancestor is to resisting Unity, Meester Kabe. He is to… to 'preaching sedition' is being recorded offense." Her head drooped, shifting the tangled mass of her brown, messy bun almost into those deep blue eyes. "But, in these many passing of folk, we are to changing, being very conformed. Very correct with procedures. We are to being guards, from since next-gen inmate C, who is Ancestor Karling."
Uh… sure. Moving right along…
"Sorry, Chica. Didn't mean to harsh your world view, or anything. Whatever keeps you going, right? Anyways, I get the sitch, here… but what about Airth? What's to doing, over yonder?"
Foln took over, now. Banishing the VR exam screen with a quick hand-wave, he explained what he knew, which wasn't much, but filled in some blanks for Caleb. Turned out that a few hundred years past, a massive rogue planet had slashed by the Terran system on a, like, tangent; kind of beneath the planets' orbital plane. Dodged Jupiter, which might have helped to deflect the dang thing, and shot on past, just below Earth and Mars. All of that extra-solar hurtling mass and momentum sent the one bouncing clean out of its orbit, and the other spiraling inward, right for the Sun.
"So… Earth is out there, someplace?" Caleb gestured at their low, pocked-metal ceiling. "And Mars is fixing to crash into the Sun? Like, take your pick, nightfall or scorch?"
Foln bit his lip, and then nodded.
"We were thinking to be receiving of refugees, Meester Kabe, but if you are not one, then there are to being no escapers and no contact, in more Time Parts than my life is long."
"Well… crap," Caleb muttered, shaking his head. "No wonder that disk bounced me here! Earth wasn't anywheres close to my spacetime coordinates, and frickin' dangerous, too! Shoot. Crud-crap! Okay… I know some guys who can maybe help. We just gotta find a way to get them a message."
Yona and Zed drew closer. The tallest young guard pulled out a very old, sparking holo disk. It showed a young earthman holding a small, weeping child in his arms. A little girl, it looked like. Hard to tell, through all of the static and skips.
"This is to being my ancestor's partner and child, Meester Kabe. Last image, before arresting and transport is sending Inmate Emerson to Proxima. I might be to still having people on Airth. If we can saving them, and your Kaise…?"
Caleb nodded, pushing himself right on up out of that chair, heavy-world grav, or no.
"You bet, Zed. I'm with International Rescue, and that's what we do. Step one, let's re-jigger that disk of yours, for Earth, my time."
'Cause, ready or not, Thunderbirds were about to be go, seven hundred years in the future.