Kindura
02-03-2005, 06:51
Scene: High above a world. A world much like earth, bathed in the light of a blue sun.
Scene: Cityscape, deep blue light. All is deserted; machinery lies derelect. Wild dogs wander the streets. In the open city center, men, machines, and cargo vanish underground. The tunnels extend directly downward for half a kilometer.
Scene: The loading chamber. For the last time, the ascent vehicle is loaded for orbit. The people are not of a race that any earthian would recognize, but they are clearly human. Close up, the nature of the "cargo" becomes clear: human faces can be seen though transparent windows in their life-support coffins, stacked one on top of another to be placed in the ascent vehicle. At length, the last supplies are loaded onto the ship. Those still walking and animate now lie back and prepare for liftoff.
The magnetic accelerators hum with life; the ship gathers speed and emerges from the shaft. The atmosphere is soon left behind. At apogee, the ship's rockets are burned to finalize the orbit. A massive fleet soon comes into view.
Scene: Aboard the fleet. The people gather in small common areas. They stare with rage, longing, resolve at television screens focused on the homeworld. Even those locked in a semblance of sleep still watch, connected to the fleetwide information network. In a simple office, a uniformed man leans back in his chair, switches off his monitor, and takes a long pull from his cigarette.
In every ship, every screen is set upon the same view: a peninsula on one of the smaller continents. Dead center, a patch of artificial grey. A counter slowly times down in alien symbols: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0-
There is a bright flash: the city vanishes in a sphere of burning red light. This quickly fades to reveal a tiny mushroom. The view switches, the counter times down for several seconds, and again the same red flash, sphere, and tiny mushroom. Slowly the tempo increases, until the surface of the planet is sprinkled with the bloody brilliance of thousands of nuclear detonations.
Scene: A glass-domed chamber. Seven men and women in ordinary clothing survey the destruction of their world. Their faces betray no passion whatsoever. They could have used hydrogen devices, but that would be too clean. Hydrogen could destroy, but only the fission of heavy elements could desecrate the cities and poison the atmosphere with radioactive ash. The enemy would be denied any use of the planet.
For 13 years they had waged futile war against a nameless invader. Planet after planet had been seized, it's population enslaved, and it's infrastructure turned against the homeworld. No more. Every world they took would turn to ashes in their mouth. Not that it mattered: with the homeworld gone, the colonies would fall also. And so, 500 million men and women, the entire population of Kindura, would be loaded onto the arks and sent into deep space.
It was intended at first that they land on an easily habitable world. This was lacking both in imagination and in discipline. The useful resources of a large planet would be mostly locked within it's core, and strenuous efforts must be taken to overcome the powerful gravity well and construct ships for a counterattack. Distant probes had returned telemetry of a young star whose acretion disc had yet to coalesce into a set of planets. The asteroids could be easily mined for whatever was required, and the liftoff requirements would be next to nil. Additionally, the free-floating gas in the system was rich with deuterium, allowing the easy gathering and refinement of fuel.
The voyage would require five years, 2/3 of the ships' mass in fuel, and the comprehensive reorganization of their society. Common comforts would be abandoned, social institutions abolished, and 99% of the population put in suspended animation. Done
These seven plainly-dressed men and women turned away from the ruins of their world, crossed the domed chamber, and began to plan the future of their race.
Scene: Cityscape, deep blue light. All is deserted; machinery lies derelect. Wild dogs wander the streets. In the open city center, men, machines, and cargo vanish underground. The tunnels extend directly downward for half a kilometer.
Scene: The loading chamber. For the last time, the ascent vehicle is loaded for orbit. The people are not of a race that any earthian would recognize, but they are clearly human. Close up, the nature of the "cargo" becomes clear: human faces can be seen though transparent windows in their life-support coffins, stacked one on top of another to be placed in the ascent vehicle. At length, the last supplies are loaded onto the ship. Those still walking and animate now lie back and prepare for liftoff.
The magnetic accelerators hum with life; the ship gathers speed and emerges from the shaft. The atmosphere is soon left behind. At apogee, the ship's rockets are burned to finalize the orbit. A massive fleet soon comes into view.
Scene: Aboard the fleet. The people gather in small common areas. They stare with rage, longing, resolve at television screens focused on the homeworld. Even those locked in a semblance of sleep still watch, connected to the fleetwide information network. In a simple office, a uniformed man leans back in his chair, switches off his monitor, and takes a long pull from his cigarette.
In every ship, every screen is set upon the same view: a peninsula on one of the smaller continents. Dead center, a patch of artificial grey. A counter slowly times down in alien symbols: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0-
There is a bright flash: the city vanishes in a sphere of burning red light. This quickly fades to reveal a tiny mushroom. The view switches, the counter times down for several seconds, and again the same red flash, sphere, and tiny mushroom. Slowly the tempo increases, until the surface of the planet is sprinkled with the bloody brilliance of thousands of nuclear detonations.
Scene: A glass-domed chamber. Seven men and women in ordinary clothing survey the destruction of their world. Their faces betray no passion whatsoever. They could have used hydrogen devices, but that would be too clean. Hydrogen could destroy, but only the fission of heavy elements could desecrate the cities and poison the atmosphere with radioactive ash. The enemy would be denied any use of the planet.
For 13 years they had waged futile war against a nameless invader. Planet after planet had been seized, it's population enslaved, and it's infrastructure turned against the homeworld. No more. Every world they took would turn to ashes in their mouth. Not that it mattered: with the homeworld gone, the colonies would fall also. And so, 500 million men and women, the entire population of Kindura, would be loaded onto the arks and sent into deep space.
It was intended at first that they land on an easily habitable world. This was lacking both in imagination and in discipline. The useful resources of a large planet would be mostly locked within it's core, and strenuous efforts must be taken to overcome the powerful gravity well and construct ships for a counterattack. Distant probes had returned telemetry of a young star whose acretion disc had yet to coalesce into a set of planets. The asteroids could be easily mined for whatever was required, and the liftoff requirements would be next to nil. Additionally, the free-floating gas in the system was rich with deuterium, allowing the easy gathering and refinement of fuel.
The voyage would require five years, 2/3 of the ships' mass in fuel, and the comprehensive reorganization of their society. Common comforts would be abandoned, social institutions abolished, and 99% of the population put in suspended animation. Done
These seven plainly-dressed men and women turned away from the ruins of their world, crossed the domed chamber, and began to plan the future of their race.