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Prologue

The Fulcrum

Earth’s colonial starship, the Fulcrum, sailing under autonomous control through the vast, empty distances of interstellar space, executed an emergency course correction eighty-six years into a one hundred thirty-seven-year voyage. Hibernation pods containing the ship’s flight engineers Michael and Kera Collins were automatically activated with the unscheduled course change. Sleeping beside their children’s pods, the husband-and-wife team awakened to the projected hologram persona of Cooper, the ship’s AI appearing to be standing beside their pods as it waited for a response.

“How long?” Mike asked, groggy from the effects of hibernation.

The AI answered, “Eighty-six years, fifty-six days, twelve hours, fifteen—”

“We got it, Cooper. What’s the situation?” Kera asked, interrupting the emotionless AI entity. With ten thousand souls in hibernation, it was their task to maintain the ship’s flight systems and verify all course changes that diverged from the original programmed flight path in the event of an emergency.

“My sensors have detected the impact of a rogue planet one hundred eighty-three miles in diameter colliding with an orbiting planetary body with a diameter of one thousand two hundred sixty-one miles. The system is WLF1954, which is aligned with our destination’s flight path. The planet was the seventh planet composed of a rocky core covered by a three-thousand-foot layer of methane ice. The impact was a direct hit, completely destroying both in the event. The system’s sun is pulling the debris inward. The Fulcrum was to sail through the planetary system, but the highly unlikely and impossible doomsday scenario just happened. I cannot avoid the debris field created by the impact. The debris is expanding outward in all directions as the system’s sun pulls it back inward, forming an umbrella of debris. I’ve altered our course to avoid most of the debris. Our best option is to sail directly into planetary system WLF1954 and orbit the third planet called Planos, which is habitable. I calculate it will take twenty-one hours, fourteen minutes, and thirteen seconds to position the Fulcrum behind the planet and use its mass as a shield. The emergency requires my programming to continue transmitting a subspace message to Imperial Command, streaming our shipwide status until the event passes without incident or we are destroyed.

“The planetary survey records list the planet as inhabited by a humanoid species. I’ve launched a probe to scan the surface and confirm the survey’s findings of humanoid life,” Cooper informed the pair as they quickly dressed into their ship coveralls.

“How long before we position the ship behind the planet of this system?” Mike asked, zipping up the front of his coveralls.

“Full tactical analysis will be provided on the bridge,” Cooper flatly responded to the question.

He glanced at his wife, who was looking worriedly at her sleeping children, when her eyes rose from them to lock with her man’s. “They’ll be fine,” Mike assured his wife.

“Yes, I know, but mother’s worry,” she said with a smile and then ordered the AI. “Cooper, meet us on the bridge.” Kera turned away from the hologram and faced her husband as the hologram disappeared. “Eighty-six years, we’re barely two-thirds of the way there and we can’t go back to sleep. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, babe. Let’s find out the full extent of what we’re facing,” he said to her as he reached out for her hand. Quickly they made their way down the corridor to the elevator that would take them up to the ship’s flight deck and the bridge.

Once on the bridge, Cooper materialized to stand before them on the right side of the elevator doors. The pair stepped just inside the doors as they stopped and looked at the ship’s view screen on the opposite wall. With Cooper’s usual efficiency, the view screen depicted the enormity of the calamity threatening the ship. From their current position, Cooper had run multiple simulations showing alternate escape trajectories in dim red lines. All failed, except for one boldly lit green line, indicating their current course toward the planetary systems third planet.

“What’s the odds of getting the ship into position before the meteor storm hits the planet?” Mike asked the AI’s hologram.

“There is a 65 percent probability of success. We’ll have a thirty-seven-minute window once we enter orbit to safely position the ship behind the planet,” Cooper flatly answered and waited for a response.

“What’s the danger of the other 35 percent?” Mike questioned the AI, wanting to know all possible options and risks involved.

“The 35 percent represents debris mass too small for our sensors to detect. Our shields are designed to protect the ship from small objects in our direct path. However, if caught broadside by a seventeen-thousand-mile-an-hour cosmic debris storm, the ship will be compromised. Worst-case scenario, shipwide decompression seconds before our drive systems explode.” Cooper’s emotionless statement filled the heavy silence on the bridge and chilled them both to the core of their souls.

“Cooper,” Kera asked. “So the planet is habitable?”

“Yes, but while you were on the elevator, the probe has confirmed there are indications of a young dominant humanoid species emerging on this world. Compared to human technological advancement, they are still infants. On Earth, you would refer to them as hunter-gatherers or Stone Age people.”

“If we survive this ordeal and the ship is unable to continue, can we colonize this world?” Mike asked, looking at his wife, hoping it wouldn’t come to such dire circumstances, but damn the consequences if it did.

“Yes. However, the Imperial Scientific Charter prevents me from releasing colonial equipment. The cargo holds are magnetically locked and completely sealed off from the interior of the ship until we’ve reached our destination. As you’re aware, the charter’s bylaws concerning developing life-forms are binding and absolute. Since the probe has detected an intelligent humanoid species living on the planet, even in an emergency. I’m forbidden to provide colonists with a technological advantage over a developing species. You must use your intellect to survive and adapt to this world or perish. I’m only permitted to release life pods. I’m not permitted to take further action.”

“If we suffer hull breaches, how much time will we have to evacuate the ship?” Kera asked the computerized image, hating the AI’s coldness and lack of humanity.

Cooper’s image turned to face her, its frozen motionless blue eyes staring at her as it answered with a response as heartless as the entity itself. “It’s impossible to predict the probability or consequences of an astronomical event. You may have only minutes or hours to evacuate. The Fulcrum’s future depends on the severity of impacts and where on the ship they occur.”

“Why do we have to honor the Imperial Charter? We’ve been asleep for eighty-six years, and with the empire embroiled in a war when we left, our home is probably dead. Why not save the last humans alive in our galaxy and allow us to colonize this one? Who’s going to know?” Mike argued, thinking if the ship is damaged and unable to continue, charter or no charter, they will colonize this world regardless of what the AI said.

“Earth is not dead. Over the course of our flight, I have not lost contact. My automatic subspace communications system exchanges data with imperial control on a daily basis. You will be happy to know, the empire lives on with your grandniece Isabella Whitlock guiding the Earth’s future as empress. Earth is thriving under the stipulations of the postwar peace treaty.

“Humanity has finally learned to live in peace for the prosperity of all. After the war, the surviving human populations demanded the empire destroy every means of waging war and adopt a highly restricted technological and agrarian trade-based society. Beneficial manufactured goods, crops, and animals are now the bedrock of imperial trade. The empire is working on restoring the Earth after countless generations of mankind’s careless stewardship. Every region of Earth contributes to the manning of the imperial spacedocks for the construction of interstellar cargo and colonial starships. Humans are spreading out among the stars of the Milky Way and now reside on three planets outside Earth’s solar system.

“There have been seven colonial starships launched since our departure. Two are following our flight path. Therefore, the Imperial Charter and its bylaws remain in authority and cannot be violated,” Cooper’s emotionless entity responded, making Mike feel he had been talked down to by a machine as if he were still a child, and it pissed him off. Within his mind, he only heard an executioner pronouncing their impending death.

“There seems no option but to go for the planet and take our chances,” Kera announced and then ordered the AI sarcastically, “Cooper! I really hate being late to a party. So you better bust your ass and get us there! Course change confirmed.”

Mike was still holding on to his wife’s hand and felt a little reassured by her confident, calm demeanor as she evaluated the situation and possible outcomes of their predicament. “Let’s pray the thirty-seven-minute window is enough time to position the ship without incurring major damage to vital systems,” Mike said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Yes, let’s pray indeed,” Kera quietly responded while wondering if her grandniece regarded them as traitors, outlaws, or cowards for escaping her brother’s wrath by kidnapping his heir to the throne, her daughter, Jennifer Hendricks.