Sanctuary
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
About the Author
Copyright Page
Thank you for buying this
Tom Doherty Associates ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
and info on new releases and other great reads,
sign up for our newsletters.
Or visit us online at
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
For email updates on the author, click here.
The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce, or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.
[What follows are extracts from the remains of the logbook of the Exodus Project Starship (EPSS) Lindbergh. These logs are archived in the rare books collection of the Landencyte Historical Society. Additional text in brackets where appropriate.]
10.25.2266 rel/1232 ST/le879/Y. [Yvonne] Greer, CO
[Third day after expedition rendezvous with Tau Ceti-e.]
No consensus yet from the flight crews of either ship about the naming of this world, although Capt. [Juan] Mendoza notes that majority opinion on Santos-Dumont favors “New Earth.” Juan agrees with me that the issue is best left undecided until all the passengers on both ships are revived and a vote can be taken. He suggests a “best name” contest, but I think not. I’ve met some of the expedition’s wittier colonists; if it were up to me, they’d remain in biostasis for a while. Kidding.
Orbital survey complete. Results confirm—with one very notable exception!—those received from the flyby probe. Radius: 1.8 Earth (11,480 km). Mass: 4.3 Earth. Av. surface temp: 8.85°C/47.93°F. Surface gravity: 1.59g. Atmosphere: 21.2% 02/ 76.8% N2 (w/ trace amounts of CO2, H, He, Ar, and other constituents), av. press. 926 mb. There’s more (ref. Doc. LR2705) but the good news is that TC-e appears to be what the probe said it to be: a potentially habitable planet, albeit nearly twice as large as Earth and with a higher surface gravity. Although TC-e’s orbit is only .54 au from its primary, lower atmospheric pressure may account for surface temperatures that rate lower than previously estimated. Northern latitudes are quite cold, but equatorial regions are rather balmy. Whether the planet is human-habitable, though, needs to be confirmed by the landing teams.
Which leads us to the notable exception: TC-e appears to be inhabited.
Optical instruments on both Lindbergh and Santos-Dumont have revealed what appears to be cleared land, settlements, and connecting roads on TC-e’s major land masses, mainly near coastal areas but elsewhere as well. Faint illumination has been detected from these areas at night, along with heat signatures and CO/CO2/CH4 plumes consistent with the burning of organic materials.
Absence of visible cities, electromagnetic emissions of artificial origin, or spectrographic evidence of large-scale use of fossil fuels led the probe’s AI to report that TC-e has no intelligent life. This judgment now appears to be in error. Although the inhabitants don’t appear to possess advanced technology, the planet is nonetheless populated by an indigenous civilization.
The reason for this major omission of fact is obvious, if in hindsight. Since the Tau Ceti probe was dependent on beamsail propulsion, it wasn’t designed to decelerate and go into orbit around TC-e, but instead sped through the system at .2c, never approaching TC-e more closely than approx. 250,000 km. Therefore, in the few hours the probe was able to spend surveying TC-e from a distance, it was unlikely to spot the more subtle signs of habitation that only became visible after prolonged study from close orbit.
Too late to do anything about it now. Eleven and a half light years is a long way to come just to turn around and go home. Even if we could, the deuterium reserves of both ships are below five percent, with no easy means of refueling available. Drs. [Jane] Wolfe [Lindbergh] and [Lloyd] Kennedy [Santos-Dumont] have already begun preparing ASR [adaptive somatic regimen] infusion for the hibernating passengers, so that they will be acclimated on arrival. However, both ships have agreed to delay resuscitation procedures until after a permanent landing site is selected.
Ground survey teams from Lindbergh and Santos-Dumont will make landfall later today. The Lindbergh team has selected an island, east of the central meridian and just south of the equator. In the meantime, the Santos-Dumont team will touch down on a highland plateau in the western hemisphere north of the equator. Both sites appear to be free of habitation, with little chance of the teams being observed by the indigents.
We will learn more once both sorties are complete and the respective teams have reported in.
* * *
[The only surviving image of the twin starships Lindbergh and Santos-Dumont is a pencil-and-charcoal sketch rendered by the artist Sergei, an original Landencyte colonist. It depicts the two vessels in low orbit above Tau Ceti-e, with Sergei’s ship the Lindbergh prominent in the foreground. It’s an enormous craft of the Enzmann design, more than 600 meters long, its spherical deuterium fuel tank dwarfing the cylindrical habitation modules behind it. From the drum-shaped command module at the bow, a delta-winged shuttle—tiny by comparison—is departing from the hangar deck.
Sergei rendered this sketch shortly after the expedition reached Tau Ceti, but it’s unknown whether he drew it before or after the disaster. In his lesser-known role as Payload Specialist Turgenev, he was among the 50 members of Lindbergh’s flight crew to be revived shortly before the ship reached the Tau Ceti system.
This sketch is the only known contemporary image of the Lindbergh and the Santos-Dumont. Because no photos or videos of either of the two vessels survive, this makes Sergei’s artwork unique, priceless, and irreplaceable.]
10.25.2266 rel/1847 ST/le881/J. [Julius] Fletcher, senior scientist
Landfall successfully achieved on Landing Site A1 at 1602 hrs. ST by shuttle Orville.
Landing Site 1A is an open stretch of terrain on the west coast of a large equatorial island (I1) midway between Continent 3 (C3) and Continent 1 (C1) in Tau Ceti-e’s eastern and western hemispheres respectively. LS1A was selected because of the availability of level ground suitable for a safe landing and also because of the apparent absence of intelligent habitation.
I1 is approximately 325 km in length, 110 km at its broadest point, with a tapering shape suggesting (as noted by [Lindbergh biologist Tonya] Van Pelt) a chili pepper. A volcanic mountain range runs lengthwise down its center, a sign that the island may be an exposed sea mound created by an ancient volcanic eruption. Lack of seismic activity suggests that the three volcanoes in the range are dormant or extinct.
Tests confirm that the atmosphere is thin but breathable, with no indications of toxicity: strenuous activity should be avoided by colonists until they’re thoroughly acclimated. Biochemical tests of plant samples indicate that their amino acids are uniformly “left-handed” and therefore nonlethal to human life. No indications yet of hostile animal life, although this can only be determined by longer and more detailed surveys.
Island 1’s environment is surprisingly Earth-like: trees, underbrush, lichen, and even small animals (such as birds and lizards) not dissimilar to that of our own world. The temperature at the equator is comfortably warm without being unbearable. Forests appear to cover most of the island; at least one species of tree, somewhat resembling an oak but taller, bears fruit.
Other factors are more troublesom
e. Higher gravity manifests itself as an increase in body weight by more than 50 percent. Physical effort is therefore more difficult, and even walking farther than a short distance is exhausting. The three weeks the flight crew spent in microgravity following revival from biostasis doesn’t help. And the lower atmospheric pressure makes things worse. At Dr. Wolfe’s insistence we took frequent breaks; future survey teams should factor in rest periods.
First sortie lasted 2 hours, 31 minutes. Survey team returned to Orville over objections by Van Pelt and [Lindbergh astrogeologist Paul] Johnson, both of whom expressed a strong desire to remain longer despite Dr. Wolfe’s concerns. Efforts to avoid cross-contamination included wearing isolation suits; helmets were not removed until it was certain that the air was fit to breathe and unlikely to contain any indigenous microorganisms harmful to human life. Outer hull of the Orville was contaminated by soil kicked up by the VTOLs upon final descent, but it’s expected that native bacteria or viruses will be eliminated by exposure to radiation and hard vacuum prior to rendezvous and docking with the Lindbergh.
Liftoff expected for 1900. All members eager to return at a later time.
Conclusion: Tau Ceti-e appears to be human-habitable, but I strongly recommend a period of physical development and ASR before the colonists are brought down. Even then, it may take a generation before humans are thoroughly acclimated to this world.
[Log entries 882–888 lost.]
10.26.2266 rel/0047 ST/le889/Y. Greer, CO
Orville has returned to Lindbergh, with Julius reporting a successful mission. I stayed up through third watch to monitor both this mission and Manny Cortez’s sortie to Landing Site 6A. I read Julius’s summary with no small amusement. I understand his desire to adhere to mission protocols, but I can imagine his team’s frustration at landing on what appears to be an island paradise, only to have to stay in their isolation gear—at least Julius finally let them remove their helmets!—and leave after just two and a half hours. No wonder Tonya and Paul argued with him.
Still, he managed to get his people back on the boat. Juan tells me that Manny’s team has insisted on staying longer. They didn’t lift off from LS6A until four hours after touchdown and are still en route to Santos-Dumont. Wanted to stay a while and pick mountain flowers, I guess.
Both Julius and Manny agree that it will take considerable physical effort for colonists to adapt to TC-e’s higher gravity and thinner atmosphere. Fortunately, both ships can be inhabited by all 2,000 passengers for a short period of time. We can use that period—Jane recommends 30 to 60 days at least—to put everyone through an exercise regimen. It’ll be difficult in zero-g, but she assures me that it can be done. Looks like the treadmills down in the rec room are about to become essential equipment.
All in all, not a bad beginning. The bottom line is that Tau Ceti-e is human-habitable; this is a relief to everyone. But we’ve got a long way to go before we can start ferrying down 2,000 people … and we still haven’t dealt with the question of what the neighbors will think.
Something to sleep on. I’m off to bed.
[Log entries 890–893 lost.]
10.26.2266 rel/0929 ST/le894/G. [Giovanni] Patini, shuttle pilot
Second survey mission to TC-e scrubbed. Orville control systems not responding to preflight checks. Mechanical difficulty of unknown nature.
Santos-Dumont has scrubbed its second sortie as well. Same reason: Wilbur unable to launch. Spoke to Jake [Moore, Wilbur shuttle pilot]; says the same thing happened to him during preflight checks. Cockpit comp screens went dark, manual controls refused to budge.
Weird.
[Log entries 895–911 lost.]
10.27.2266 rel/1136 ST/le912/Y. Greer, CO
Tonya and Aaron [Willig, Lindbergh astrobiologist] inform me that TC-e’s native civilization may be more advanced than previously believed. This could spell trouble.
Until now, it’s been thought that the inhabitants are at a pretechnological stage of development, with perhaps no more than an agrarian culture. This was the opinion of our science team after studying the coastal settlements on TC-e’s major continents while waiting for technicians on both ships to ascertain the causes for the shuttle breakdowns and effect repairs (ref. Doc. LR2713). However, further telescopic observations confirm the existence of large ocean-going sailcraft, with some appearing to be two- or three-mast catamarans. This is evidence that the “Cetans” (as Tonya calls them) have learned to harness wind power and build seafaring vessels. It is therefore possible that the Cetans may be engaged in fishing and trade, perhaps even at global distances.
One observation in particular has caused immediate concern. Julius reports that among the native vessels is a large, three-masted catamaran that was spotted off the coast of C3. This craft has steadily and consistently changed position with each orbit Lindbergh makes. It appears to be on an east-by-southeast heading that, in a couple of more days, will bring it to Island 1, approx. 900 km off C3.
Since (a) I1 is thought to be uninhabited and (b) C3 lies on the ground track Orville took while making atmospheric entry, Julius believes that inhabitants may have spotted our shuttle and that this ship may be following the course it took. Certainly the stratospheric vapor trail, however short-lived, would provide a good direction-indicator. Even if the Cetans have been previously unaware of I1’s existence, if their ship finds the island and its crew goes ashore to investigate, they may find evidence of the science team’s visit (e.g. blast marks left behind by Orville’s engines, impressions of landing gear, footprints, etc.).
I will meet with Julius, Tonya, and Aaron later today and hear their recommendations for how and when to make further sorties. I may also follow Julius’s recommendation and revive certain passengers who have psychological or sociological expertise that may be useful to us if we are indeed facing a first-contact situation.
However, given the fact that the Cetans have a considerably lower technological level than our own, I’m not greatly concerned. I’m confident that, if necessary, we can establish a colony on TC-e that is far enough out of their way that we can avoid contact with them until such a time when both of our civilizations are ready. And even if contact is unavoidable, I strongly doubt that the Cetans will pose a threat to us. Like other native inhabitants encountered by EP expeditions, this is a primitive race; I don’t think we’ll have much trouble with them.
This is not my most urgent problem just now. Crew members are reporting electronic and mechanical failures throughout the CM [command module]. The trouble that started yesterday aboard Orville seems to be spreading through Lindbergh’s forward section, and while the breakdowns at first appeared to be random, their frequency and locations now suggest an emerging pattern.
So far, the CC [command center] hasn’t been affected, nor have any failures been reported in the modules aft of the MFT [main fuel tank]. But I’ve got [Lindbergh chief engineer] Kyle [Bennis] on the case, and I’m expecting a preliminary report from him shortly.
10.27.2266 rel/1201 ST/le914/Y. Greer, CO
Addendum to my entry: Juan reports nearly identical situation aboard Santos-Dumont. Situation there even worse; CM has begun to experience widespread failures as well.
[Log entries 915–920 lost.]
10.27.2266 rel/1704 ST/le921/Y. Greer, CO
Communications lost with Santos-Dumont.
During my last verbal exchange with Capt. Mendoza, he said that his ship is in serious trouble, with widespread equipment failures occurring at an increasing rate. Before contact was lost, Lindbergh received diagnostic telemetry indicating rapidly declining control over major systems. Then the blackout occurred.
Breakdowns now occurring aboard Lindbergh as well. Because the first incident was Orville’s failure and the subsequent incidents appear to have begun in the shuttle bay and spread outward from there, it’s believed that the survey team may have carried something up from TC-e. Since the team wore isolation gear and underwent decontamination procedures upon their return, the le
ading hypothesis is that the source of contamination may be the shuttle itself.
[Log entries 922–930 lost.]
10.28.2266 rel/0315 ST/le931/K. Bennis, CE
Something is attacking Lindbergh’s control systems.
Over the past 24 hours, we’ve experienced 49 logged failures, along with countless others that crew members haven’t recorded, of electronic and mechanical components. These failures are increasing at an exponential rate, and it is clear that a cascade effect has begun to take place, with even the smallest occurrences causing systemic problems that become more serious as they go down the line.
The attacks appear to be occurring at a microscopic level. Plastic and rubber components are losing their integrity. They are literally rotting away, like ripe fruit that’s fallen from the tree to the ground and been left to lie there. Once an object starts to lose its integrity, the rate of decay is rapid and cannot be halted.
The first indication that an object has been affected by the Rot (as crew members are calling this) are tiny holes that appear in its surface. This is a sign that the hypothetical microorganism responsible for this has found the object and begun to tunnel into it, eating its way through the object. If the object is electronic equipment, this causes failure as soon as the Rot makes its way to the insulation surrounding the wiring or printed circuits. By then, the object has become so brittle that it can be easily broken. A data pad can be snapped in half between two hands.
Everything from computer chips to ink pens to cookware is being affected. If something that has the Rot comes into direct contact with something else, the microorganism jumps from one object to another. People don’t seem to be directly harmed by it (unless they’re wearing dental implants that have some sort of enamel in them, such as posts or bridgework; at least three crew members have already lost teeth this way). However, any articles of clothing made of artificial fibers are likely to deteriorate as well. I’ve seen shirts, shoes, and trousers literally fall off the people wearing them. Funny at first, but no longer something to laugh about.