Chapter 12

Within a couple days, our space liner arrived in high Gaian orbit. I peeked out the window at this strange world, a world I’d heard about and seen pictures of, but never visited or bothered to learn much about. The small, bluish planet hung in the blackness of space, serene and inviting. The orbit zones around Gaia were sleepy compared to Earth’s, where flying through space was like driving on a freeway at rush hour. Looking out the window, I could spot a few ships here and there, and a single, large spacedock for maintenance, but other than that, it was just the infinite black canvas of outer space.

“It’s calm here,” I said to Colette.

She smiled. “That’s the way we like it.”

I had always carried a certain amount of contempt for Gaia and its inhabitants, but I realized now that it was just an Earth-based prejudice I had unknowingly soaked up. I had always heard that the Gaians were backward, stupid people, humans who just couldn’t “keep up” with Earth’s progress, or who were some kind of extreme Luddites that thought there was something inherently “moral” about the 22nd century that just didn’t carry on into the future. They were considered to be a bunch of reactionaries, radical environmentalists, and paranoids, and it was widely agreed to be a good thing that such misfits chose to live far away, screwing up their own planet instead of wrecking the gears in ours. We had left them in the dust technologically decades ago, and they seemed just fine with it. They were humanity’s unwanted stepchild, as far as Earthlings were concerned. I’m sure the Gaians didn’t see it that way, though I didn’t know any other way to interpret it.

As I thought about it, I actually knew very little about the factual, unbiased history of Gaia. What I did know would have fit on a toothbrush, and it essentially amounted to this: Back in the 22nd century, Earth discovered an unpopulated, Earth-like planet, and there was much excitement about the discovery. At the same time, the Earth population happened to be undergoing a huge social bifurcation. Although Earth was unified in terms of government, economy, and science, there was a profound and widening chasm between those who were comfortable with what Earth society and technology had become, and those who weren’t.

Those who weren’t fell into all kinds of camps, and they opposed a lot of things: the ongoing, unrepentant damage to the environment, the god-like powers that technology had given humans over time (powers they didn’t think belonged in the hands of mere humans, even though we had managed to create them for ourselves), and a really scared set of people that violently opposed the progressive integration of man and machine (such as having nanites in our bodies, being constantly connected to the SuperNet, and so forth). Somebody – I don’t even know who – came up with the idea that these radicals and Luddites ought to be the ones to colonize the newly found planet. It would be good for Earth’s progress to get rid of them, because they had become a huge drag on progress, and living there would give them the freedom to live their backwards lives the way they wanted, without interference from us. And so it was. They colonized the planet, named it Gaia, and had been living there for several generations. That was all I knew. As I gazed at the gentle orb below me, I was looking forward to learning a lot more about this strange place, and maybe finding out why these people thought so differently and radically.

Colette and I boarded an orbiter shuttle that would take us down to the planet’s surface. As the craft made its descent into the atmosphere, I surveyed the geology and topography that I could see from my small porthole. There was a lot of water, with a greenish tint to it, and the land was a robust, dark color, like freshly tilled soil. The trees and foliage didn’t look odd or alien from this altitude, and it was pretty plentiful. There were quite a few mountains around, and from what I could see, the planet in general was pretty bumpy; it was obviously a very active planet geologically. Colette leaned over and pointed out some of the peaks and the large populated regions, but the names didn’t mean much to me. I could tell from her voice that she was both excited and tense about returning home. She had trouble sitting still, her speech came in fast and sudden bursts, and the light in her eyes danced and burned.

The orbiter finally landed at a busy air and space port, not too far from the ocean. Colette led us off the orbiter and through all the usual rigmarole associated with travel hubs. We worked our way through the terminals and ticketing areas, and walked through an open set of doors into the bright Gaian sunshine. The air was crisp and fresh, just the way I like it, and there was a slight, pleasurable tang of odor to it. Although we were at sea level, the air was cool and thin, as if we were at a much higher altitude. I took a big breath of Gaian air, and instantly felt refreshed. Maybe it was just a relief for my body to get away from all the recycled air during our travels in outer space, but I thought there was something uniquely appealing about this particular natural air.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, I heard a voice call out to Colette. She and I turned to the voice, and half-walking, half-jogging toward us was Sash, the tall African man that had shown me the surveillance video of Geelan at the Atlas facility. He waved to us as he made his way over, and Colette’s face bloomed into an expression of joy and delight. They embraced intensely, as long-lost relatives do, exchanging greetings and words of affection, some in a language I did not understand, and I simply stood, waiting patiently for an introduction.

“Mr. Brennan,” Sash finally said to me, holding out his dark and soft hand. I gave him a good shake and smile. “Thank you for coming,” he added.

“Don’t mention it.”

Sash’s manner was captivating. His age was indeterminate, but I guessed him to be in late middle age. His baritone voice and dark eyes bespoke a unique, complementary blend of authority and intimacy, like a wise old man who has most of the answers but enjoys helping you find them out for yourself. Gazing into his eyes for the brief moment that our introduction allowed, I felt an undeniable magnetic pull toward him. I liked and trusted him instantly, which surprised me. I had just met the man, and already I wanted to follow him, wherever he was going. His presence alone made me feel glad about coming to Gaia.

Colette, who was standing between us, took us both arm-in-arm and led us to a wide slide-walk nearby. We stepped onto it and walked casually, double-timing it across the ground with no extra effort.

Colette and Sash engaged in small talk, catching up on things, most of which I did not understand, and I just walked along with them, enjoying the cool temperature, the gentle breeze, and the bright sunshine. I gazed at the people and vehicles around me, and it felt like stepping back in time a hundred years. A lot of sleek, attractively colored buses and mass transports moved around on rails or hovered above the ground, while people went back in forth in a way that looked chaotic and unpredictable to me. I did notice, however, that it was exceptionally clean outside the spaceport where we walked.

The idyllic, if busy, scene was interrupted when my eyes caught sight of a large, dark cloud many miles away.

“What’s that cloud over there?” I asked my hosts.

Colette’s face soured at my mention of it. “That’s the Atlas site,” she said, her eyes firing silent remonstrations in its direction. “That’s the main dust cloud they kick up that’s overhanging our city and giving our citizens asthma.”

I was no Gaian activist, but I did feel a bolt of disgust at the plainly crass behavior of my former company, a company that I had called home for many years. This was just not only bad, it was embarrassing. Sloppy. Atlas had always had a problem with messy mining station directors…people who ran their stations with little concern for the environment (be it earth or space), little care for the surrounding communities (if any), and who sometimes ran loose even with the comfort and safety of the miners themselves. I had never run my station like that; I ran a tight, safe, responsible ship, and I guess I never bought into the slash-and-burn philosophy of the company’s bottom line. But then I was never considered “real management,” anyway. I was just a plain old rock-gutter, with what some believed to be more responsibility than I deserved. One of those sloppy and dangerous station directors, a fat prick named Nat Brixom, had used that general prejudice against me, along with some other specific and unsavory tactics, to run me right out of the company. It saddened me to see more of that kind of behavior in a pleasant and welcoming place like this.

“I’ve spoken to the council,” Sash was saying to Colette. “They’re very anxious to meet Mr. Brennan.”

“Good,” she said. “We’ll meet with them as soon as possible. But I want to go to Uwishin Hospital first.” She looked earnestly at Sash. “I want to see Naya.”

“Of course,” Sash acknowledged.

“How is she?” Colette pressed.

Sash’s face was somber. “She…is a strong little girl. She is holding up well. The treatments are…very hard on her.”

Colette’s face fell, and when she inadvertently turned her head in my direction, I saw that water had already pooled in her eyes.

We got off the slide-walk, and I followed Sash and Colette onto a platform for what looked like a monorail transport system. There were other people waiting there. A very diverse crowd…not skin-wise, for Earth is very racially and ethnically heterogenous. But the clothes and the bearing of the people seemed earthy, colorful, and very old-fashioned. The most striking thing was all the external implements they carried. They all lugged, carried, or wore various electronic tools about them, and it just seemed so queer. It was so inefficient, so…proletarian. We had integrated our electronics with our clothes, bodies and buildings a long time ago on Earth. Nobody needed to carry anything as far as connectivity or entertainment went.

“Are you alright, Mr. Brennan?” Sash asked me with a sly twinkle in his eyes.

I smiled, my eyes still taking in the strange environment around me. “It’s just…a very different place here.”

“Indeed it is, my friend, indeed it is. And if you are not careful, you will find yourself to be yet one more visitor who spends the rest of his life unable to bring himself to leave it.” He smiled a broad, wicked grin, and I laughed in acknowledgment.

The monorail train slid into the platform, and we boarded. Colette sat down in a nearby seat immediately. I was prepared to stand, but Sash commandingly waved me into the seat beside Colette. “So what do you know of our history, Mr. Brennan?” he asked when I had gotten comfortable.

“Not much, I’m afraid. A lot of…hearsay….prejudice,” I confessed.

He grinned broadly again, like I had just told a very clever joke, and crowed, “Then I am so glad you are here, Mr. Brennan. Either you will wisely join our life-giving community, or you will go back to your homeworld and firm up the mushy brains of the those barbarians on Earth with a useful fact or two.”

His insult was both high-phrased and harsh; I could see that he was the kind of man who could insult you without you knowing it if he so chose. “You know, Earth pretty much thinks you’re the barbarians, stuck back here in the 22nd century as you are.”

“Ah!” Sash exclaimed in mock disgust. He shook his head and all he could do was tsk-tsk, and I suddenly felt embarrassed for my modern, intellectually advanced homeworld.

I glanced over at Colette. She was smiling, and her eyes sparkled.

That lady was really glad to see Sash.