wasn’t really asleep. The main nuclear reactor ran continuously to keep the ship’s systems under power so that it could be monitored remotely—those data feeds now hacked by Bebbington to show situation-normal to anyone who might actually give a damn.
For the most part all that was needed was an inspection. That and installing Lucy. Bebbington had a private spot picked out for her—what would have been the Afrika’s computer vault. Lucy was not at all happy about that . But despite her protests it had all the required connections, Bebbington insisting that she be hardwired to the Afrika for resilience, even if it was only by means of pads stuck to her surface induction layer. Once they had her slab mounted into its cradle and the connections made to the Afrika’s systems, Lucy had settled quickly, delighted with her new toy.
Everything else was in good order, including the two landers in the garage, Bebbington and Robert rigging the Nairobi as a flight simulator so that Robert could train during the outbound journey.
It takes just three days of preparation to get the Afrika ready for its departure. Not to its ultimate destination—it still needed more work for that—but to the Moon.
STARLIGHT
The Council have gathered once more, for a final briefing by Cardinal Joseph Ansoni. With all the elements in play this is the point of final commitment, beyond which it will not be possible to manage the situation if they are discovered.
“Senator Blake has vowed his cooperation,” Joseph says, “Which gives us the cover we need. We now have one month until the optimal launch window. Just enough to get the Afrika ready and complete Lucy’s training.”
He brings up a schematic on a wall display. The Earth–Moon system and its Lagrangian points.
“Our biggest problem is that we can’t engage the Star Light drive at Lagrange Two. Its EMP signature would likely be detected by scientific probes in the vicinity. The only place we can launch unseen is on the far side of the Moon.”
“How long will it take to get the Afrika to the Moon without the main drive?”
“Thirty days. It’s already on the move and will arrive during the launch window. The space dock remaining at Lagrange Two will hide the fact it’s missing. For while, at least.”
Joseph updates the display to show the Afrika arriving at lunar perihelion only to immediately eject into a solar system transit.
“That’s not a lot of time for the main burn, Joseph. Is this to be a Hohmann transfer?”
“No—it will be considerably quicker,” Joseph says, “but we have more than enough fuel and reaction mass both for a second transit burn and a rapid deceleration.”
“And for the return journey?”
Joseph is solemn in his response. “If there is to be a return…then it will be about eight months with the propellant remaining.”
“What about mission control? The Afrika’s design assumed three flight crew onboard and ground based oversight.”
“Mission control will be from the Cantor Satori test facility in Nevada. It’s already up and running. But now, of course, we have a third generation MBI—something not anticipated by the original Afrika Project. Lucy will fly the Afrika.”
“What is Robert Cantor’s state of mind?” a delegate asks.
All turn their gaze to a man sitting apart from the others. Dr. Rain has already adjusted his mind around the surreal situation he finds himself in, and is ready to fulfill the role required of him—the last two patients of Lucius Gray are now his.
“He is not the man he once was, that’s for certain,” says Rain. “Messiah stripped him of his one defining feature—”
“His bipolar disorder?”
“Yes, or rather the manic depression that went with it. The mania that conceived of the Afrika is gone from its creator. But so has the despair. What is left is a capable man who cares not one jot about what fate might befall him. In that regard he is fit to fly.”
“Is he aware of