Dr. Sato decided to end the meeting by saying, “I’ve decided to save some of the answers to critical issues raised today and provide written answers for you to read once the journey began.”
Tom felt a bit ill at ease, but given the circumstances, he’d need to consider how best to proceed. He certainly was filled with thoughts weighed by nightmare Frankenstein scenarios that might play out with immortals onboard, but he wondered how likely were they to turn into anything but helpful to humanity by exploring the secrets of extended life. It struck him momentarily. Had she considered involving him in the written answers? Better to make it known that he must be.
Before everyone left the room, Tom approached her discreetly and explained, “Any procedures will involve a small committee given the importance of the matter. Do I make myself clear?”
Dr. Sato hardly nodded. She hardly glanced at him as she left the vacant room.
Chapter 33 – Valor and Heartbreak
Tom Burns, The Imagine in the Rocky Mountains, CO
As passengers and crewmembers became accustomed to everyday life on the ship, life outside the ship was becoming more difficult. Environmental conditions around the world deteriorated. One of the major environmental impacts was now taking place in the Rocky Mountains. As the temperatures rose, even the snow on the highest peaks was melting causing widespread flooding for the citizens of Colorado in the valleys. In addition, much of the wildlife in the mountains could not survive such warm temperatures.
Tom received a call from his wife as he was working on the engines. She informed him that President Stevens wanted to meet and see the spaceship. At first, Tom wanted to ignore the request. While President Stevens was trying hard to improve conditions in the United States, it was really too late to fully recover from the Trump years. Tom decided that since the deteriorating environment was not this president’s fault, he would meet with him.
Tom told his wife to set up a meeting in a week at the Rocky Mountain headquarters.
On Thursday of the following week, President Stevens and his staff flew out to Colorado, along with his wife, secretaries and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. While Tom respected the president a lot more than his predecessor, he was not really thrilled with his trip to headquarters. Tom didn’t want anything to interfere with the launch plan. But Tom had decided to act courteously and show respect to the man.
Beyond being mindful of professional conduct, which he expected from the experts on his own crew in the lead-up and after the launch, he was well-suited to be a captain of a ship. All the things that were out of his control and those things that he and his crew were working on to make sure they got through danger zones with enough ability to outpace, dodge, push through or avoid—kill if they had to—required that he handle circumstances, not rush off and hide and act as if he was functioning in a proverbial bubble. This new president may very well be able to do more than Trump’s constant vitriol and sabotage. He could instigate a much better opportunity for communication between the ship and America when it became necessary or another exploratory opportunity presented itself in the future.
This wasn’t about Tom, this wasn’t about plans, this was about taking another giant step for mankind, which meant he had to act like it had nothing to do with him. He was a captain. On the other hand, he was first and foremost advancing human capabilities and innovations, in service to all. If he didn’t think that way, he would be off target and wobble like an eccentric object out of sync with the steps that humankind wanted at this point in building future options. Who knew what they would have to encounter beyond their galaxy? If he shied away each time things got tough, what kind of captain was he? He had to choose perseverance.
Of course, recent events with Trump and the effect on the elections had Tom on edge. So did the larger ramifications of whether there would be debates about immortality, cloning and living in a small space. It didn’t mean he needed to fight, fly or close off. It didn’t suit him well on a voyage of this magnitude. If he was asking his officers and passengers to continue to study, develop physical and mental skills beyond what they’d ever practiced or imagined, he had to do the same. He knew that President Stevens was aware of how Trump’s missteps had led to his own win. It was all due to Trump’s tweeting and his underestimation of what the Imagine mission represented in the minds of voters and many who were invigorated by the advancements of humanity. Tom’s phone rang.
“Tom, I’ve got terrible news. I don’t know if I can even say it, friend.”
Tom recognized Jeff Tirortu’s voice even though he hadn’t seen him since 2009, twenty-one years ago. “What’s happened, Jeff.”
“We might have been worried about our life here on Tuvalu, when I saw you. I was still in Kiribati, but this is… it’s worse, Tom. My dear daughter, Heitiare, is dead, Tom. Our nation means ‘eight standing together,’ and now we are falling down, no matter how much richer the coal mines have made those bastards on Queensland!”
“The atolls! Was she defending the eight atolls?”
“Tom, I simply can’t talk about it. I’m too depressed. She never left the hole. They found her entangled in an excavator ladder. Her husband, Ahomana, was sick for years and finally died from black lung disease last month. Queensland mines have documented more than eighty deaths in the past decade from black lung disease alone. Maybe she just wasn’t as safe as she used to be, grief-stricken over losing him and all, when she died. But she never emerged. They’d worked in mines in Queensland for a few years now. But that new one, the one in the Galilee Basin, it was supposed to bring an economic boom they said—the Adani project. Tom, she never got out of the hole. There are more than sixty physical deaths now over the last decade in these damn mines polluting our air. And they’re willing to ignore that coal mining is the existential threat we call it. Now, here we were building sea walls, extracting sand for geobags for seawalls and groynes, and now my dear Heitiare and her Ahomana are killed not because of the effects on our islands and our lives but because of the mines themselves. No one cares about safety anymore, Tom, no one.”
“Jeff, my deepest condolences. They continue to ignore the safety resets. This is absolutely dreadful. The loss of life is unacceptable. They should be home safe not—”
“Gone! Tom, I’m not sure if I can forgive anyone. You know eight years ago their safety committee was dissolved because they couldn’t reach a gender quota, and miners died. They wanted to argue about ideology instead of making sure they were talking about the safety of the men and women in the mines. This is unacceptable. Well, it happened again. It’s just about running around in circles. I’m devastated. I just needed to hear your voice, my friend, even if I never hear it again after you launch, you’ve helped me at the worst time in my life.”
“Something’s gotta give, Jeff. I’ll see what I can do and get back in touch with you. Nothing I can say can make it better, and I’m sorry you’re having to go through this horror.”