CHAPTER 9 “The Beanstalk”
Saturday 30 July 2811
At 10:02 AM, Danika knocked on the door and called out in a sing-song voice, “Good morning. I’m here.”
Mom opened the door with, “Hi Danika. ¿We should have asked yesterday, but should we bring along something to eat?”
“Hardly. There’s like a café on the Anchor Ship and a little canteen on the Tender. But it wouldn’t hurt to bring along a few biscuits in case we get hungry before lunch.”
I chuckled to myself hearing that. “I’ll get some biscuits. Mom, you go get in the pod with Danika. I’ll be right there.”
In a minute we were headed farther up the road. The pod then turned into a driveway – something our house lacked – backed out, and down to the flats we went under a bright blue sky with puffy white clouds here and there.
“¿Are we taking a boat?” I asked.
“From here I’ll fly you in the Project V-TOL to the Tender ship. From there we’ll take a shuttle boat to the Beanstalk. If we like fly anywhere near the Beanstalk they’ll blow us to bits.”
“Huh? That’s kind of radical.”
“You bet. ¿Do you know what would happen if a V-TOL severed a few elevator ribbons?”
“Oh. Well, not exactly but it would like be real messy,” was the best answer I could come up with.
“Yeah. The cost in time, money, and lives could be like major.”
We reached the V-TOL pad and Danika helped mom into the back seat while I climbed into the copilot’s seat. After Danika latched herself in, she turned to me, “Celeste told us you have a knack for hand-controlling this copter. ¿So how about another lesson?”
“I’d love that,” I answered truthfully.
“OK. Use your I.D.”
I put the back of my hand against the sensor. The right armrest immediately adjusted itself to fit my right arm, but the toy and straps remained hidden. Various lights and displays came to life.
“I see it remembers you. Push the button labeled, ‘Test.’ It’s to the right of the map, and then move that lever over there to ‘Manual.’”
The rotors began moving as soon as I pressed ‘Test’ and then I moved the lever. “¿What if someone were standing in the way of the rotors?” I asked.
“Tango Papa is pretty smart. She wouldn’t spin her blades unless it was damn sure it was safe. OK, tell her we want to go to the Beanstalk Tender.”
“Destination Beanstalk Tender.” The map zoomed out, but I didn’t know just where to look for the Beanstalk. Then a blinking red circle appeared next to a drawing of a green bean! “That’s silly!”
“Did that myself,” Danika bragged with a smile.
I tapped the blinking red circle that surrounded a V-TOL symbol. Nothing happened. “The circle didn’t turn green,” I said.
“Your request is being considered by agencies all over Earth as well as the local air traffic controllers. Visits are like a big deal. Ah! There it is.”
I reached for the green button, but it wasn’t lit. Danika explained, “We’re on ‘Manual’ so under that lever are four switches for the four armrests. Lift your arm out of the way and throw the switch on the far right. The Captain says you used your right hand.”
The front of the armrest opened, and the toy popped up. I settled my arm into place with my hand on the toy and pulled back the blinking lever. The familiar straps secured my arm. Then I was at a loss. “¿What do I do now to get airborne?” I asked.
“Gently put some upward pressure on the toy. When we’re in the air, it’s just like you were hovering a kilometer above ground.”
Leery of over-controlling, I managed to get us haltingly up to about ten or fifteen meters above the pad, rotated the copter to face roughly the way we wanted to go, and slid the velocity control slowly up to 20, then 40 as Tango Papa accelerated smoothly with its nose slightly dipped. Then 50, 60, 70.
“I’m impressed,” Danika called out over the increasing air noise. “I’d be even more impressed if you didn’t crash into that hangar.”
Ohmagawd. I pulled up – we rose so abruptly my butt sank hard into the seat cushion. Then my body was thrown upward toward the cabin roof, straining against the safety straps as our upward velocity suddenly ceased. I over-controlled, obviously, but we cleared the hangar roof with meters to spare and headed out over the lake. I moved my hand away from the toy.
“That was great!” Danika squealed. “I’m going to do that the next time some jerk begs a ride.”
I was a quivering mess. “I almost got us killed! ¿How can you be so damn cheerful?”
“I’m sorry, Estrella. It’s OK. The controller wouldn’t allow us to crash. As we approached the hangar it was like undoubtedly calculating at what point it would need to override your inputs to avoid injury or destruction, but damn it was exciting. And your over-correcting made it all the more fun.”
Mom’s voice came from behind, “I think I wrenched my neck.”
Both of us apologized. Danika found some analgesic and muscle relaxant dermics in the First Aid kit as I gingerly resumed control for our flight out to the Tender ship.
The Anchor Ship for the Beanstalk grew ever larger. In no sense other than it floats in water does it resemble a ship. It has nothing that could be distinguished as a bow or stern. It’s like a massive orange island with vertical walls rising 100 or more meters from the lake. The Tender looked tiny in comparison.
I slowed the copter to 10 km/hr as we approached the Tender’s V-TOL pad and then commanded, “Tango Papa, same destination. Resume control.” As happened yesterday, my arm was released and the toy copter receded into the armrest as the copter took over for the landing. Danika was all smiles. “You do have a knack for flying this crate. Good job.”
Both Danika and I had to help mom out of the copter since her neck muscles were still hurting. We were met by crewmembers who asked Danika when we would return for the copter. As we left the flight deck, the landing pad descended into the ship with Tango Papa. Presumably, the ship’s crew would roll the V-TOL off into a below-deck hangar space, raise the pad again, and be ready for another copter.
By the time the next shuttle boat arrived, mom was feeling a lot better. Good thing, since I had been feeling awfully guilty.
As we motored to the Anchor Ship some two kilometers away, I looked in vain for the Beanstalk, but it wasn’t until we were about to dock at the massive Anchor Ship that I could see the elevator ribbons against the blue sky; nine impossibly thin straight lines rising vertically out of sight.
The self-guided tour was well designed for people of all different backgrounds and education. Mom spent most of the time watching videos about the history of its construction and its day-to-day operation while Danika and I focused on facets of the technological challenges and engineering solutions.
Mom came over to Danika and me after watching one of the videos. “So now I know why the Space Elevator is anchored on a ship. That’s so that they can move it to the side whenever a satellite might hit it. And they picked Lake Victoria rather than the ocean because it doesn’t have hurricanes or tsunamis. Even the one-kilometer altitude helps.” Then she added, “Oh, sorry. You girls already knew all of that, I suppose.”
“No apology needed, Mrs. Ramirez,” replied Danika. “The two of us geeks are as happy as kids in a biscuit factory with all the math, physics, and materials engineering displays here.”
Biscuits again, I noted.
Danika told us that our three eldest crewmembers had already taken the elevator to GEO and back. In fact, Captain Perry had ridden it dozens of times. A few months from now, she added, all six of us would get to ride it. What she didn’t mention, however, was that we weren’t coming back down – ever.
No elevator cars were scheduled to arrive or depart the Beanstalk today. One elevator car left GEO Station yesterday and was expected here late tomorrow night. We did, luckily, get to see an elevator car sitting in one of the Anchor Ship’s hangars while it was being loaded with supplies for the stations and spaceships.
Outside on the deck of the Anchor Ship, I couldn’t keep myself from repeatedly putting my head back and visually following the ribbons up, and trying to comprehend that they hold two sizeable villages in place about 35,000 km vertically overhead; too weird and amazing. The higher ‘village’ is “ZERO Station” where gravity indeed is zero to the 6th decimal place and where spaceships are docked. The lower ‘village’ is called “GEO Station” where a gravity of half a percent makes living a little easier than at the higher habitat.
All of this is truly one of the two technological wonders of the modern world. The other one is the starship being built at ZERO Station; my future home, my ride out of the solar system, my responsibility, my coffin.
We had a simple lunch at the café, finished the biscuits, saw the rest of the exhibits – some more than once – until it was time to take the last shuttle back to the Tender. All three of us were now taking muscle relaxants for our necks. Danika and I earned our stiff muscles from staring up the ribbons. It probably happens to most of the visitors here.
Back on the Tender, Danika and mom went off in search of a bathroom while I watched Tango Papa ascend to the flight deck on the hangar elevator.
Somewhere in the distance was the roar of boat motors and popping noises. Curious, I walked over to the railing and could barely make out two distant boats leaving white wakes on the blue water as they headed toward the Anchor Ship. I heard more popping.
Next to me was a metal box with a hinged lid lettered “BINOC.” I lifted the lid and sure enough there was a pair of large binoculars inside. I braced my elbows on the railing, and focused on the two boats. One was a dark blue with several people visible on board. The other boat was white and had a government insignia on its stern. I could see only a single person on the white boat who was apparently steering it toward the blue boat. Both boats were speeding so fast they rode the water’s surface and left huge rooster tails.
Suddenly the person in the white boat jerked to the right and stumbled over the side into the lake. Two or three seconds later I again heard a series of pops. Oh crap. I had just witnessed someone shot by the people in the blue boat and the blue boat is heading straight for the Beanstalk!
I dashed over to Tango Papa and clambered in. I quickly put the back of my hand against the sensor, hit the “Test” button as I buckled up, and then threw the “Manual” lever. Let’s see how smart this crate is. “Tango Papa, emergency rescue operation, skip external clearances, lift off.” To my relief we quickly rose off the pad. I flipped the switch for the toy, grabbed it, settled my arm onto the armrest, and flipped the blinking lever. I rotated the copter toward the distant boats and shoved the velocity slider to full speed. The nose dropped and the acceleration was phenomenal.
A second later, I was blinded by a brilliant searing burst of light. I couldn’t see much of anything since most of my visual field was one big blind spot. I let go the toy, knowing the controller would maintain our present heading, speed, and altitude. “Tango Papa, velocity five-zero.” There was no point in over-flying the person in the lake before I could see anything.
I screamed as Tango Papa viciously lurched. Then just as suddenly all was normal again. I realized it must have been a shock wave from the blast. After another five seconds my vision was noticeably improving. I saw an enormous deluge of water returning to the lake from hundreds of meters above the site of the explosion — dead ahead.
Then I spied the white boat at two o’clock, stationary in the water with its cabin shredded and smoking from the blast. I reasoned that the sailor was likely to be somewhere back along its bubbly wake.
As I followed the fading wake of the white boat, I scanned the water for the victim. A speaker blared, “Tango Papa, identify yourself and your mission.”
“Ensign Estrella Ramirez. Emergency rescue of wounded seaman,” I called out. Nervously I waited for a reply.
“That checks with information from your controller. We have deployed a boat to assist. Approach no closer to Anchor Ship than necessary.”
“Roger that,” I responded. I’d heard ‘Roger that’ in some holovideo and it seemed like the right thing to say. And having seen what they did to the blue boat, I wasn’t about to go any closer than I absolutely had to.
Then I spotted the floundering sailor ahead. I brought the copter down to about 5 meters and maneuvered until I could see him through the floor window. Now what? I commanded, “Tango Papa, height zero point four meters with left skid over person in water, fast.” I barely finished talking when we were in free fall for what seemed way too long. Then it felt as if we hit concrete.
Looking through the floor window, I saw the seaman reach up with one hand and grab the skid. With some effort he got his left arm over the skid, stopped thrashing, raised his right hand out of the water, and waved a little thank-you up in my direction. The water next to him was red and getting redder.
Without thinking, I called out, “Tango Papa, good work, hold position.” I almost blushed to think I had complimented a controller.
We must have waited four or five minutes before I spied a powerboat closing in fast. A minute later it was next to us. One of the crew jumped into the water as the boat maneuvered to get its boarding ladder opposite my left skid. The wash from the VTOL rotors threw up spray and pushed against the people and boat below but a minute later the badly bleeding seaman was on deck and receiving first aid.
“Tango Papa, cancel hold.” I gently brought the copter straight up, rotated until the Tender ship was centered in the windshield, and moved the slider slowly up to 70km/hr. As we approached the ship, I told the controller, “Tango Papa, resume control, destination Tender.”
With skids firmly planted and the rotors spinning down, I released my safety strap and opened the door. Danika and a very tall sailor rushed up and to my surprise the sailor put his large hands on both sides of my waist, lifted me out, and set me on the ground. As he let go, I grabbed at him as my legs nearly folded under me. Mom and several others joined us as we went down two decks to the ship’s canteen. Mom fetched me a cup of water and I unsteadily took a sip, as my hands were shaking so much.
Ten minutes later I was drinking hot chocolate in the company of half the ship’s crew including Captain Mopele, all crammed into the diminutive mess hall. They wanted to hear all about the rescue and about me. I gave them a blow-by-blow account of the previous few minutes but purposefully omitted mention of my relationship to ISTRI.
Then I had questions to ask. “¿So, who were the people in the blue boat and what were they doing? ¿Didn’t they know they’d get blown to kingdom come if they got too close?”
The sailors deferred to Captain Mopele to answer. “Ensign, we too would like to know who they were and that’s going to be hard since they and the boat were probably reduced to charred confetti. And I don’t believe it was the Anchor Ship’s defenses that made that explosion. My suspicion is that Anchor Security hit the speeding boat with a laser pulse intended to disable it by melting a big enough hole. It might not have even killed anyone if they were lucky enough. Instead, the laser pulse must have detonated explosives in the boat.” He paused before finishing with, “I think it was a suicide attempt by Goots to take out the Beanstalk.” Several crewmembers nodded.
“¿Do you really think the explosives would have destroyed the beanstalk? I mean the base is like so heavily built.”
Captain Mopele looked down at his weathered hands surrounding his cup of coffee. “Our radiation monitors have lit up. We’re starting to decontaminate my ship. The explosives were just the trigger for a nuclear bomb. Another moment and they might have set it off.”
Silence. Nobody moved as they considered what they had fortuitously survived.
Danika stood, “Hey we’ve got to get going. It’s almost dinnertime at the base.”
Minutes later as Tango Papa carried us back toward the ISTRI base, I asked Danika, “¿So who are Goots? ¿And why did they want to destroy the Space Elevator?”
“I can tell you what I know and what I think I know,” answered Danika. “Some nut-case from London like vanished in the Australian outback for a year or so – probably 80 years ago now – and when he re-surfaced, he preached to anyone who would listen about the Aboriginal creator of Earth, Guthi-guthi. In a decade or so he had a large following and missionaries spreading his message around the world.”
“¿What was so attractive about this Guthi-guthi guy?” I asked.
“Beats me,” Danika answered. “I think it had more to do with the nut-case; Mike Harden was his name. He’s dead now. He apparently was like sincere and charismatic and the creation story he pedaled is probably the most ancient one we know of. It’s funny what some people believe or like want to believe.”
“¿But why the Beanstalk? ¿What’s the Beanstalk got to do with an Aboriginal tale?”
“Everything, Estrella. You see, Guthi-guthi lives high above the Earth; it’s his home up there and he doesn’t want the GEO Station there.”
“Oh. I see. Or rather I don’t see.”
“You’re in good company. It’s hard for geeks like us to get a handle on it. A big part of their shtick is that Guthi-guthi not only like created Earth but he also created the ‘Dreaming’ that all of the Goots … uh … dream or experience or imagine. Harden planted the seeds of anger against the Beanstalk Project as soon as it was proposed and today we saw some fruit of that anger.”
“So, they must also be opposed to the Trillium Project. ¿Danika, are they the ones who tried to kill me?”
“I’d say that’s a safe bet, Estrella.” Then her eyes focused outside. “There’s the base. One more thing, not all Goots share the mission of destroying the Beanstalk or Trillium. Most are like honestly doing good work where work needs doing. Oh, and one last thing, ‘Goots’ is a pejorative term. They call themselves ‘Sky Children.’”
“¿Sky Children? ¿Those are the Goots? There’s a Sky Children Hall in Sagerston – where we lived.”
The golden African sun was setting as Danika manually set Tango Papa on the ISTRI V-TOL pad. There must have been a hundred people there. Captain Perry, Sitara, Hvezda, and Xingxing were standing in a straight row in front of the rest – and applauding. As I stepped to the pavement, Captain Perry approached and said in a loud voice, “Emergency rescue operation, skip external clearances, lift off.” Then less loudly, “¿Ensign Ramirez, whatever in the world gave you the idea that would do any good?”
I thought of bluffing but instead admitted, “Because it was the first thing that came to mind.”
Then there was laughter – and more applause.
“Ok, you three. Follow me. You need to get decontaminated. Sitara, organize a crew to clean up Tango Papa.”
My nice outfit was consigned to a container labeled, “Radioactive Waste,” which pissed me off. After our unpleasant and thorough scrubbing, we were given towels and coveralls. Captain Perry accompanied mom and me back up to our house, she handed me an e-pad. It was the Times of London front page. The headline read, “Beanstalk Attack.” Under that was, “Space Elevator Unharmed,” and, “Starship Girl Rescues Injured.” And there was a video clip of ME! The huge sailor was lifting me down from Tango Papa and the size difference made me look tiny and much younger.
“Oh magawd,” I muttered. There was also a video of the explosion. It was truly awesome. I handed the e-pad to mom.
When we stopped at our walkway, Captain Perry turned and said, “Ensign, be ready to go at oh-six-fifty tomorrow. You have a mission briefing at oh-seven-hundred.” And then, “Sleep well. You deserve it.”