Leaving Earth Vol. 1 (Leaving Earth Omnibus) Read online

  Leaving Earth Vol. 1

  (Books 1 - 3)

  by Kaal Alexander Rosser

  Books by Kaal Alexander Rosser

  Leaving Earth

  1. Directed Energy

  2. Power Base

  3. Critical Error

  4. Take Over (coming soon)

  5. Side Effect (coming soon)

  6. Off Planet (coming soon)

  Cyborg

  1. Survivor

  2. Control (Dec. 2017)

  3. Arms Race (Dec. 2017)

  4. Lockdown (coming soon)

  5. Traitor (coming soon)

  Non-fiction (as Kaal Rosser)

  1. Avoiding Advertising... Like a Ninja

  2. How 2 Fact Check

  Dedication

  To my sisters, Jaime and Siân, for many years of patience.

  Praise for:

  The Leaving Earth series

  "The characters are believable and like-able, it has made me laugh out loud a few times on the train... Here's looking forward to the TV adaptation..." - Amazon Review

  "Characters seem so real that you feel like you are sharing in their experiences. Reading this I felt I was sat at the bar hearing their pub conversations, being part of their jokes... Bring on book two, which I shall enjoy, even on a Thursday." - Amazon Review

  Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoy it. If you want to know when more arrive, please sign up to my mailing list.

  Copyright © 2017 Kaal Alexander Rosser. All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Directed Energy 2

  Chapter 1 3

  Chapter 2 8

  Chapter 3 12

  Chapter 4 16

  Chapter 5 21

  Chapter 6 28

  Chapter 7 30

  Chapter 8 33

  Chapter 9 36

  Chapter 10 41

  Chapter 11 46

  Chapter 12 52

  Chapter 13 57

  Chapter 14 62

  Chapter 15 67

  Chapter 16 71

  Chapter 17 77

  Chapter 18 82

  Chapter 19 86

  Chapter 20 89

  Chapter 21 92

  Chapter 22 96

  Chapter 23 100

  Power Base 104

  Chapter 1 105

  Chapter 2 110

  Chapter 3 115

  Chapter 4 120

  Chapter 5 124

  Chapter 6 131

  Chapter 7 135

  Chapter 8 142

  Chapter 9 149

  Chapter 10 153

  Chapter 11 159

  Chapter 12 163

  Chapter 13 167

  Chapter 14 171

  Chapter 15 176

  Chapter 16 179

  Chapter 17 186

  Chapter 18 188

  Chapter 19 195

  Chapter 20 200

  Critical Error 203

  Chapter 1 204

  Chapter 2 208

  Chapter 3 214

  Chapter 4 219

  Chapter 5 227

  Chapter 6 232

  Chapter 7 238

  Chapter 8 242

  Chapter 9 247

  Chapter 10 251

  Chapter 11 255

  Chapter 12 264

  Chapter 13 266

  Chapter 14 271

  Chapter 15 273

  Chapter 16 277

  Chapter 17 281

  Chapter 18 283

  Chapter 19 287

  Chapter 20 293

  Chapter 21 295

  Chapter 22 297

  Chapter 23 301

  Chapter 24 306

  Author's Note 309

  Directed Energy

  (Book 1 of the Leaving Earth Series)

  Chapter 1

  'PRODUCED. That's the word, Stew. Produced. We are in production...' Grum Hewson tapped his half-empty glass of ale on the table in emphasis, his muted BBC accent — much softened by time and distance from London — rang with declarative certitude.

  'Bollocks!' Stewart Leslie's own accent also marked him as an Englishman, though less-definably so. He took a deep swallow of the dark ale he favoured and returned his glass to the table without a sound.

  The regulars of this Boston bar rarely took any notice of the expats' voices these days. The pair's explosive statements, however, did draw a raised eyebrow from one of the bartenders and Stewart waved an apology.

  'What do you mean? We have produced, stabilised and contained a significant quantity of anti-hydrogen! Thus we are in antimatter production!'

  'Being "in production",' said Stew, making finger-quotes in heavy sarcasm, 'implies a certain continuity. We've got one run contained. We don't even know for certain if the next run will work! It's going to take a month to reset the assembly and then we'll see if this process is repeatable. If it is…' Stew started ticking off the points on his fingers. 'We'll have to see whether we can combine outputs of different runs. Then we have to find a way to increase the yield. And, maybe, in a couple of years, we'll have the basis for what might be production! Don't you think you might have jumped the gun just a tad?'

  'As convincing as your case is, it fails in one or two important aspects. The first of these is the matter of funding and the second stems from that. How is this project funded?'

  'The Funding Committee.'

  'Otherwise known as Beancounter Central, but no. Concentrate and answer again.'

  'Various companies providing money to the Funding Committee, primarily USSMC.'

  'Correct. Why have they done this?' Grum knew he was being didactic, but over the last four years they had settled into a style of logical argument which suited them.

  Stew sighed. 'They expect to make profit from the technologies and processes resulting from this research.'

  'OK. Partly. They also want to look good so they can improve the share price and benefit now from an increased market cap,' said Grum. 'Thusly, whether the science allows such an epithet to be applied or not, we are "in production" as far as what the USSMC PR machine will be telling the press tomorrow morning before the primary technologies markets open.'

  'How on earth will they justify that? A "production" of antimatter which could make a cell with enough power for a home a year?' Stewart spread his hands wide in incredulity. 'Any serious production would have to make this one look like a car battery.'

  'That's nice relatable imagery, may I quote you?'

  Grum saw the slightly worried frown fall over Stew's face and he twisted his torso to look at the man approaching their table. He recognised the man as one of the bodies which had been observing the run — scuttlebutt had him down as a USSMC spy. Just between the two of them, they had a five-spot on what his job actually was: Grum thought Media, Stewart had Legal.

  Submitting to the inevitable, Grum turned back the right way again and indicated one of the other chairs at the table.

  'Steve Branch,' the interloper said by way of introduction. 'I'm with USSMC's Media Department. I know who you both are, of course.

  Stew shrugged and slipped five dollars across the table to Grum as he replied to Steve's original question: 'You could quote it, yes. It's fairly accurate. So long as we're talking about average households around here, not in the middle of a desert or anything.'

  Grum was watching Steve as the money changed hands and caught the slight flicker of annoyance before the next question came: 'And how much antimatter did we have to produce in order to do this?'

  'A little under four hundred micrograms.'

  'That doesn't seem much...' Steve was clearly taken aback.

  'No, no, not much at all. Just better than the global pr
oduction ever.' Grum twitched his shoulders in irritation.

  'And how big would the cell have to be in order to be stable?' asked Steve, apparently unfazed by Grum's attitude.

  'Hypothetically, it'd be about the size of two big refrigerators and will weigh a literal tonne.'

  'Wonderful imagery! Ever thought of going into marketing?' asked Steve, lifting a small glass of what looked like a wheat-beer to his lips.

  'Only in my worst nightmares. You did hear the timescale I mentioned? Assuming the next run works?' Stewart shook his head, which Grum echoed.

  Steve, gave a vague rolling gesture with one hand as he swallowed his mouthful. 'Doesn't matter. We'll give them the imagery! Then we, self-deprecatingly, tell the media that due to the immense scientific and technical difficulties involved it won't be commercially viable for, say, thirty-five to fifty years from now. In a few years time we say it'll be between twenty-five and thirty which we'll stick to until we come in with the commercial product in thirty years from now, a couple of years ahead of the public road-map! During which time our new AM production facility will have been building us a stockpile.' Steve's eyes were shining with anticipated success.

  'If it works,' Grum repeated, deliberately, in a talking-to-the-hard-of-thinking voice.

  'USSMC has every reason to believe in the abilities of the team here,' said Steve, standing to leave. 'Catch you again!'

  'Utter crap! A steaming pile of marketing,' said Stewart, when Steve was out of earshot.

  'Quite.'

  'Does he have every reason to believe that the abilities of the team extend to changing reality if it turns out the yields don't scale?'

  'No. If the whole thing turns out to be a dud, they'll blame the scientists for being too optimistic without due cause.' Grum shrugged.

  'Even though we're the one's advocating caution.'

  'I think I need another beer,' Grum said, turning to the bar.

  Stewart sighed and looked at this watch. 'Or we could swing by Kelso's and pick up a brace of flagons?'

  'That, old son, is a damned fine plan.'

  Grum fired up the app for his preferred driverless taxi firm and placed an order. It arrived a couple of minutes later, so they drained their drinks and headed out.

  On the way, Grum called the owner of their favoured microbrewery.

  Justin Kelso created a fine range of ales, catering to the palette of the discerning ale drinker. Grum was sure that other palettes were well-served as well, but he did not care about those. He had introduced Stewart to Kelso's brews a little over four years ago, when Stew had joined the project, and had been delighted to find another proper drinker.

  Picking up something from Kelso's had become a common way to close out a hard day, and the owner was well pleased with their custom.

  'Hi, Graham,' said Justin, answering the call. Grum had his private number, rather than the business's sales line.

  'Hi, Justin. We're on our way over to pick up something for this evening. What have you got for us?'

  'Most recently ready are a six percent porter and a five-point-five amber. The amber is a touch on the hoppy side, no flowers though.'

  'The porter?'

  'Touch of chocolate, touch of vanilla.'

  Grum repeated the description to Stew who gave a thumbs-up. 'Perfect. We'll be about ten minutes. Could you draw off a couple of carry outs?'

  'Sure. Pints or flagons?'

  'What do you think?'

  Justin chuckled and hung up.

  During the round trip Grum thought some more about those timescales. It was not as if he would be around to see the research become an actual product. When the project ended he would move on to something else in a related field. A new piece of research.

  The trouble with that was that he was getting tired of the constant battles for funding and never being absolutely sure whether there would be something else to go to at the end of any given project. Research positions which did not come attached to a certain amount of lectureship were few and far between. Narrow that down by area of specialism and seniority and it was an exceedingly small pool.

  He could go into lectureship. That was stable, but dull. It expanded the pool considerably but, well, it meant lecturing. On the upside, he could probably get a place in a Russell Group or Ivy League university and he might even be able to wangle a contract which was as little as twenty percent lecturing. It would also mean settling down.

  That was another thing about the life of a roving researcher. A new place to live and a new group of friends and colleagues to be built up every couple of years. It was not exactly a lonely life, just… Almost.

  The car pulled up at their apartment block and Grum's phone buzzed to let him know that the ride had been charged to his account.

  'Steak and chips?' asked Stew as they headed for the entry way.

  'If you're cooking.'

  'Sure. I got a decent pair of farmless rump steaks, from that new GM-meats store, in my kitchen. I want to see what they're like.'

  'Make me into a guinea pig, why don't you?!'

  'Huh! I haven't tried them, either.'

  'Fair enough.'

  They passed through the lobby, not taking the stairs which led down to Grum's apartment but making for the elevator to Stew's.

  Chapter 2

  'LOOK, Grum, I know I said it might take a couple of decades to get this process to the kind of stability that could reasonably – in scientific terms – be called production-ready. But the USSMC bod was talking even further out.' Stewart had been uncommonly silent during the meal, and Grum felt that this was probably what he'd been mulling. 'We'll probably be publishing our paper early next year-'

  'Our paper?' Grum interrupted, as Stew collected the plates which bore only minimal signs of the excellent dinner.

  'I assume you aren't going to make me join Club Et Al.'

  'No. You're going to be named.'

  'Then stop nit-picking.' Stewart paused, re-ordering his thoughts. 'It's more normal for these technology companies to announce to the press that the new thing is only five to ten years away from commercial realisation and then back-track as needed. Even with the "five to ten" timescale most analysts will assume it's so much vapour.'

  'It'd be plasma in our case, but I understand what you're saying. The LHC has been producing antimatter for the last couple of decades or so, and it's been big news in the science world, but they're not a dedicated production site. USSMC's new facility is. I reckon they'll announce production so that they can justify the final expenditure on the new facility and get that finished over the next two-to-three years.'

  'I get that, but what about the thirty-odd year projection?'

  'I'm getting to that. They first of all want to make sure they don't disappoint the market. They have plenty of other things on the go to keep analysts happy, so why brush with failure to deliver when you don't have to? Also, my personal feeling is that, once they are truly in production, USSMC want the first few years' antimatter for their own purposes. If they can start working with matter-antimatter fuel cells, before anyone else knows it's a reality, it'd be a hell of a coup.'

  'I s'pose. I guess this isn't their first barbecue.'

  'Yeah. Early start. See you for config test first thing.' Grum stood and moved to collect his share of the beer.

  'Right you are. Night.'

  'G'night.'

  Grum left Stewart's apartment and headed for his own.

  About half way down the corridor to his apartment, Grum saw his neighbour's cat scratching at their door. It stopped when he approached and started rubbing itself against the door, purring.

  'I can't open the door, ratbag, sorry.' Grum wandered passed and headed for his own door. The purring faded a little as he reached his apartment, then bouncily increased in volume again. Grum turned to see the cat trotting towards him. 'OK. In you come, Felix.'

  So that his neighbours did not worry, Grum stuck a note under their door.

  About five minutes befo
re the end of an interesting documentary, there was a knock at his door. His neighbours had come to collect the cat, which chose to be obstreperous.

  Finally, Grum was able to shut his door on they whole thing and readied himself for bed while the last five minutes of the documentary played out. He put the undrunk ale in the refrigerator, went to his bedroom, set the alarm and slipped into bed.

  Predictably, during Grum's First Coffee of the morning, he saw USSMC was splashed all over the science and tech news feeds with talk of antimatter production success. Steve Branch was quoted saying just what he had told them he was going to say.

  USSMC followed up the antimatter production announcement with press releases of different, nearer-term projects. The most exciting was the Lunar base. Even though it was only a paper fantasy at the moment, the public interest in a "moonbase" was high.

  Five years previously, eccentric billionaire Kelvin Goldstein bought a collection of previously separate corporations in various fields and bolted them together. He cajoled and cudgelled the companies eventually comprising USSMC into beginning work on orbital stations for the purposes of salvage, ore processing and refining.

  Understandably, perhaps, most people had laughed and the public around the world had lapped it up.

  Now, the superstructure of the first USSMC Refining Lagrange Station was in place, and there were plans for larger orbital platforms including science labs and habitats. These would also be used as way-stations for those staffing the stations and platforms. And the "moonbase".

  USSMC Moon Base was publicised as an off-planet version of the USSMC Technology Centre. Combining all the scientific and technological research that was being done on earth, in addition to that which would be farmed out to the orbital platforms.