Chapter 01: The Project

Log Entry: October 9th

The year is 2100, and the human race has made phenomenal strides in scientific, medical, and technological areas of research and development. With the elimination of the majority of crime and war, resources previously allocated to such things as weapon systems, espionage, and defense technology were redirected toward advancing the whole of humanity.

Colonization of the moon was accomplished seventy-five years ago, and Mars followed in the decade after. Deployment of high strength pressure domes permitted settlement of Venus, and new thermal shielding is allowing the first settlers to touch down on Mercury.

Despite this apparently rapid progress across the solar system, we have had a few difficulties reaching beyond the asteroid belt. Plans have been underway for some time, but it looks as if the project may be scrapped if proper actions aren't taken. This is where I come in. My name is Declan Kovair, and it's my job to turn impossibilities into realities.

End Log.

My day begins as it always does with my alarm shrilly demanding my attention. I stab a finger onto the silence button and debate the pros and cons of getting up. After a moment, I roll out of bed, knowing that sleep never has a rational debate, but simply claims victory and drags me back into my dreams.

Pressing a control on a wall mounted keypad, I trigger the mechanism to lower my bed into its holding compartment in the floor. The cover panels slide out and conceal its location under their blue carpeted surfaces. A secondary switch drops a wall plate before my sofa slides out from its container.

Even with the colonization of other worlds, space on Earth is at a premium, and nothing is wasted. Modular housing units able to be transformed into different rooms allow functionality in a significantly reduced area than would be otherwise required.

Crossing the room, I place my left hand against a section of metal wall plating and push. The plate indents slightly before releasing, and a shelf the width of my palm hisses softly as it extends out from the wall on four steel runners. Seated on the three levels of the shelf were the various implements of my morning routine. Tapping a second panel beside the first, I spun it around and revealed the mirror mounted on the back.

Looking myself over in the mirror, I thought I looked dreadful first thing in the morning. My black hair was a complete mess, and I had dark circles under my hazel eyes from staying awake too late the night before. I'd simply too much work to do, especially with my meeting coming up with the Space Administration Council this morning, and I just couldn't have gone to sleep until the work was done. I refused to attend the meeting looking dragged out, so I set about correcting the situation.

I quickly combed my hair before reaching for the first item on the top level of the shelf. It resembled a technological mouthpiece, and it was constructed specifically for my teeth, fitting into my mouth perfectly. The miniature lasers activated, cleaning each and every tooth down to the enamel. It was so precise, dentists had been rendered all but obsolete. Only those without the necessary credits to afford the technology still required their services. I rinsed with a mouthful of water from a small flask on the top shelf, removing the burned residue left behind by the lasers. I pulled out a wall plate, lifting it completely horizontal before sliding it straight back into the wall to uncover the sink. I spit the water in my mouth down the drain before washing off the cleaning device. I put it back on the shelf and reached for the next item.

Advancements in razor technology had increased to near perfection with the implementation of nanoscopic sensors. Mounted to the razor, the sensors were able to scan the surface of the skin and adjust the cutting laser over a million times a second, ensuring a flawless shave without the risk of being cut or burned. I drew the razor across the stubble of my beard and mustache, making them vanish in an instant.

Replacing the razor on its shelf, I took the aftershave bottle from the lowest level and applied it to my face. The cool liquid left a fragrant aroma, negating the need for cologne. I put the bottle back in its original position and pushed the shelf back into the wall where it clicked into place. I tapped the corner of the mirror, spinning it back into place and disguising it as part of the wall again. I slid the sink cover out and down, and it clicked as the latch secured it shut.

Stepping to the left, I shoved a protruding lip of a concealed door up. Measuring only a foot square, the small door lifted out of the way to allow access to the refrigeration unit behind it where my breakfast was kept cold. Taking out one of the individually wrapped items, I slid the door closed, and it hissed as the seal engaged.

Food was quite ordinary and completely boring since the amalgamated food supplements had been put on the market. Combining vitamins, minerals, proteins, and everything else needed to sustain human life in its fullest form, the food supplements only lacked one thing, taste. Thankfully flavor sprays had been discovered a few years later. Made of entirely natural chemicals, flavor sprays altered the taste of whatever they were applied to in order to change it into something else entirely. No one ever complained anymore about eating food they didn't like because the sprays could change the taste into anything they could possibly want.

For this morning, I felt hungry for buttermilk biscuits with gravy, sausages, and orange juice. I unwrapped my supplement and put it on a plate before taking a glass of water from a wall dispenser. Pulling the proper flavor sprays from an adjoining compartment, I applied them liberally to my food supplement and the glass of water. While I waited for the thermal cooker to heat the plate of food, I took a swallow of the flavored water, enjoying the taste of citrus provided by the flavor spray. The hum of the thermal cooker ceased, and I removed my breakfast. The smells made my mouth water.

I ate breakfast in a hurry, stuffing my dirty dish and glass in the processor for automatic cleaning. A pocket door slid back at my touch in front of my closet. Taking a hold of the handle grip, I pulled the clothes rack out on an extendable pole. The hanging suits were more accessible, and I looked them over before selecting the one I thought best for the meeting. A deep rust color, the synthetic fibers resembled silk, but they could be mass produced at a tenth of the cost, as well as being stain proof and more durable.

Pushing the pole back into the closet, I hid my unneeded suits behind their door again. If I didn't know my way around the apartment so well, I wouldn't have been able to find anything since the gray steel panels were so very well camouflaged.

After changing into my suit, I stepped out my front door, locking it behind me with a touch of my right palm against the scanner plate by the door. Turning toward the balcony railing in front of my domicile, I paused a moment to admire the beauty of the city. The early morning sunlight gleamed brilliantly off the copper colored windows of the skyscraper across the street. The air was clean and fresh; the botanical gardens all over the city ensured it with a multitude of trees and plant life naturally filtering the air of pollutants.

Directing my gaze west, I caught a glimpse of one of the garden domes. Containing hexagonal tiles, the dome of glass and titanium housed its own ecosystem, drawing in extra carbon dioxide when needed, and releasing the much needed oxygen when available. More than thirty of the great domes dotted the city, and smaller gardens were stationed on rooftops of private dwellings, apartment complexes, and even some businesses. Everyone needed the air, so everyone did their part to keep it breathable.

I was forced to halt my admiration of the beautiful city as I remembered what time it was. If I didn't hurry, I'd be late for the meeting. Leaving the railing, I headed along the front of my building to the elevator station. A truly unique design, I never ceased to be fascinated by the station when I saw or used it. Each elevator car consisted of a booth constructed around a central shaft. Wheels inside the shaft rode along the exterior of a vertical support rod connected to every floor. The wheels momentum against the central rod directed the elevator cars up or down, increasing or decreasing speed as needed. Approaching the station, I saw multiple elevator cars waiting, and the floor's design curved around the circular formation of vertical support rods, allowing access to any available car around the entire ring rather than having to wait for one facing a specific direction.
Stepping into an available lift, I swiped my hand across the sensor for the train station. The doors, transparent glass on their upper half allowing a view out while the car was in motion, slid shut, and the elevator began descending. It started out slowly but gradually increased until I nearly lifted off the floor in a freefall. The elevator began to slow before I even came close to ground level, but the surface continued toward me until I passed straight through it and reached the underground tunnels below.

When my elevator eased to a stop, the doors opened, and I exited onto the train station platform. After the year 2056, all trains were built underground. New technologies in the field of transportation made above ground trains too inefficient for continued use. I walked briskly across the station platform and entered a single car of the train.

Modern trains were constructed in such a way as to allow commuters to get on or off without having to stop the train at each point along the route. This ability greatly sped up arrival times while eliminating delays. Each car could hold two people, but unless they were both going to the same location, most rode alone. A well cushioned chair of rich burgundy offered comfort for the brief journey across town. Surrounding the seat compartment, the exterior of the train car could rotate three hundred sixty degrees around without altering the direction of the occupant; this was required for how the trains went about their operations.

I pressed the location I desired on the touch screen in front of the chair before sitting down and belting in with a pair of diagonal seat restraints. My train car raised up from the platform in preparation for departure. The moment the engine passed, extensions built onto the exterior of my car latched onto the train and pulled my section out and into line. Other cars also were collected as they were headed in the same direction as me, and they locked in behind my car as we passed them.

Trailing from the back of the primary train engine were four long rails. The rails were equipped with electromagnetic locks to secure each individual car in place and keep the train in an aerodynamic line. Additional electromagnetic locks were located on the cars themselves, securing them to one another. As I approached my destination, the secondary locks disengaged, separating me from the cars behind me. The train slowed down slightly before the rails' primary magnets holding my car were deactivated. My car dropped from the train and into a deceleration tube, slowing my speed until I cruised to a stop at the next train platform.

Even though the train had already gone past me, I knew what was occurring. The electromagnets on the rails were cycling in order to draw the cars forward and create a space at the end of the train for additional cars. The process was a well oiled machine controlled by countless computer relays and sensors, ensuring safety at all times for the passengers making use of the trains.

Unbuckling the safety straps, I left the train car and bounded up the stairs to street level. My meeting was in the very early morning hours, so most of the morning commuters were not yet present. I did pass a man on the sidewalk who had a prosthetic eye. Similar to an old style eye patch, the prosthetic covered his entire eye, but the exterior optical sensor had fluctuating colors across its surface as it drew in a multitude of data for transmission directly to the brain.

I glanced at the man, but I didn't want to be impolite by staring. The process of altering physical abilities through the use of technological equipment was still fairly new, but the science behind it had been advancing for years. Some people chose to have their replacement parts appear human with a more cosmetic design, but others preferred the look of the synthetic, using chrome cover plates and gleaming gears. It was all a matter of personal preference, but I didn't know where I stood on the issue.

The idea of being able to replace damaged tissue, organs, or limbs with robotic parts seemed a very good thing. Prosthetics had been around for centuries, and these were simply the latest models available. However, a significant number of people throughout the solar system were getting the upgrades to replace perfectly functioning organic parts. The last time I heard anything about it, cyborgs made up over ten percent of populated worlds.

Some tension had existed between cybers and organics during the initial days after the first cyborg had been built, but new laws and social programs quickly put an end to it. Whether enhanced or not, every person in the system was a human being and deserved to be treated with the same respect and dignity. Although the law drew a clear line as to what was acceptable and what wasn't, I still didn't feel comfortable about becoming half robot. All the safety procedures in the worlds couldn't relieve the unease about having someone rewiring my brain to accept robotic parts. The entire concept sent a shiver up my spine as I considered about all the horrible possibilities if anything ever went wrong.

Pushing the uncomfortable thoughts aside, I focused on the task ahead. Crossing the wide plaza, dotted with neat rows of tall trees, I took the steps up to the Space Administration building two at a time. The front doors, a pair of clear transplex panels, hissed aside automatically at my approach.

The project to reach beyond the asteroid belt hung by a slender thread. If the project were canceled, it might be decades or centuries before another was started. Taking a final steadying breath, I went in to face the Administration Council.