Or not really. This story is not endorsed by or related to Surlethe's in any official capacity. It is, as I said, inspired by it. Consider it an alternate universe where the Earth of GMT exists in much the same capacity as it does in that story, but with several changes of my own design.Yes, the characters in this story re-discover a long-lost Earth. I'm not going to attempt to make it a mystery to the reader about what planet they find; I'm much more interested in the process by which they, the characters, determine that they've discovered humanity's birthplace. Asimov fans will also note several elements from Foundation and Earth in this story. Sorry if it's a little info-dumpy here in the beginning; I swear I'll stop!
Finally, I have more written already than I've posted here. I'll get the next batch up within a day or so. Enjoy!
* * *
Jovas Kholo awoke to the dim click-gong-click-gong of the ship's alert system gently getting his attention. It was designed to let him know that there was something interesting occurring within one billion kilometers of the vessel, named by Jovas the Long Sight. Its official designation was GS-1340, but Jovas never thought of it that way.
He yawned, waving his hand through the air. A magnetic field suspended a foot above his bed detected his hand passing through, sending a signal to the the ship's computer to cease the alert. With a small groan, he stood. If he stayed in bed, sensors would detect his weight and, after a minute, tell the ship's computer to re-initiate the alert.
Becoming more sensate by the second, Jovas rubbed his chin stubble. The tone of the alert meant he had plenty of time before he had to deal with whatever was out there. It was likely that the system they'd arrived at three days ago had a habitable planet in it, and the computer had finally detected this.
Jovas pulled on a pair of pants and a short-sleeved shirt, and went over to the mirror, examining himself, as was his wont every morning. He was twenty-three, tall and lanky, with a mainly shaved head--though, for the last several months out in space, he'd become somewhat lax about it. He cheekbones were high and pronounced, making his eyes and cheeks look more sunken than they really were. With his long, straight nose, he was by very few definitions handsome, but that mattered little to him. He was a certified pilot of the Galactic Alliance, out on assignment, exploring the long-forgotten reaches of the Galaxy.
He kept his cabin sparse and clean, a holdover from his days at University. Nudging into his shoes, the doors to the hallway parted, and he stepped out of his cabin, on to the hard plating of the deck. There, he faced a dilemma. If he turned right, he would go to the galley, and he could eat. If he went left, would find himself in the pilot's room, and he could finally see what the alert was that awoke him at...0530? Jovas sighed; it was too early to want to do much of anything.
In the second of two cabins, directly across from his, he could hear his companion, Asin Welseo, snoring loudly. Since exploration assignments like his could last up to six months or more, a pilot could bring along another, as long as that person could contribute to the mission in some way. A pilot could bring along an astronomer, to expedite the process of stellar cartography. He could choose a biologist to study any life discovered on planets surveyed, or geologist or paleontologist, if he liked. Asin, however, was none of these; he was a historian, specializing in recovering the history of humanity before the Great Galactic War and the Expungement.
Five hundred years past, when the Galactic Alliance was at its zenith of power, there arose a curious faction within its midst, motivated by a strange religion. The Zealots, as they called themselves, grew in power until they could wage open warfare on the Alliance. When they won, and the Alliance was shattered, they erased the entirety of human history on every world they could find. They crippled the Galactic Hypernet, preventing what history that survived from being communicated from world to world. And, for three hundred years, their theocracy ruled supreme.
But history was nothing if not cyclical; Asin had told Jovas that much. Secular counter-culture took root, much in the same way the Zealots had, and after one hundred and fifty years of struggle, had re-established the Galactic Alliance. Jovas and Asin were the first generation in half a millennium to be born in this new Galactic Alliance. On their shoulders did the incredible task far of re-discovering what was long lost: humanity's history.
There were millions, if not billions of systems to visit. Long-forgotten colonies of colonies of colonies could have never been touched in the Expungement, and on these there would certainly be answers. Much had been found already, but the work would possibly never be done.
Asin was, therefore, indispensable for a exploration mission. Having direct access to the constantly-updated Galactic Reference Encyclopedia, he could see the latest re-discoveries and, as they hopped from system to system, catalogue their own. Of course, the fact that he and Jovas had been lovers whilst at University together certainly made the trip more pleasant, too. At first, they had tried sleeping in one bunk, but they were barely a meter wide and made for an uncomfortable night. This way, in separate cabins, Asin could maintain whatever hours he pleased and not disturb Jovas; recreational activities could be handled separately from sleep.
Finally, Jovas decided to go to the pilot room; it was too early even for breakfast. The pilot room was a seven meter walk down the hallway, and was little more than a viewer and a few chairs. All control of the ship came from Jovas directly, via a special transmitter surgically implanted in his brain. It activated only when in the pilot room, so as to avoid inadvertently transmitting commands whilst he dreamt or relaxed. Similarly, if he was in the pilot room, he could shut it off at his leisure.
He sat in his chair and listened. The computer told him that a habitable world had been discovered in the system, based on long-range visual-spectrum analysis. The computer had altered course to the inner reaches of the system, and would arrive in approximately nine hours. In addition, spectral analysis of one of the outer gas giants had been completed and uploaded to the GRE at 0340.
Jovas had almost stopped being amazed by the capabilities of the Long Sight. Its computer was the newest and most powerful model available, save those of dedicated military ships, capable of sophisticated information analysis. It was almost as good as a trained expert in the fields of astronomy and planentology, and it automatically catalogued everything it saw for later examination by qualified professionals, back at University.
This particular class of ship, the Galactic Scout, was purpose-built for the Re-Discovery. There were almost fifteen hundred in service, each sporting a wide array of sensing and communications equipment. Most remarkable was its ability to decipher language, as the ships often had to do when a lost colony was encountered. Isolated from the Galaxy for sometimes up to ten thousand years, the languages on these planets were nothing like that of Galactic Standard.
Nine hours to the planet. This was the first habitable one they came across. Of course, that didn't mean that they would encounter anyone; many habitable worlds were abandoned throughout the course of humanity's history. Some were never inhabited by humans or any other sentient life to begin with! Jovas briefly considered waking Asin, but decided against it. Such a find as this could make the young historian's career; he would be uncontrollably excited until they arrived, and, as the habitable area of the ship was very small, Jovas would scarce be able to avoid him.
Give me an external view of the craft, he thought suddenly, and the viewer shifted from the blanket of space to that of the Long Sight, light-amplified to give him a decent look. Shaped like a flattened teardrop, its silver hull was an ultra-strong composite material, able to withstand the tremendous forces of interstellar travel, as well as shield the occupants from cosmic radiation and other hazards. Advanced deflector screens further protected the ship from anything up to an including primitive nuclear weapons--a precaution against a frightened colony world launching an assault on an explorer craft. Against the the advanced weaponry of the Galactic Alliance or interstellar pirates, they could only suffer a scant few hits, but a good pilot could escape quickly enough to survive such an encounter.
The most amazing component of the ship, though, was its gravitic drive. Drawing power from the gravitational potential created from interacting with every mass in the universe, it had an inexhaustible fuel supply, so far as Jovas was concerned. The device which allowed this took up the bulk of the ship, but made the craft extremely fast and maneuverable, as inertia didn't affect it in any way, except when close to large masses. In addition to its relatively standard hyperdrive, the GS class could out-fly any antimatter- or singularity-powered ship in the known Galaxy.
Jovas' stomach rumbled suddenly; it was just after 0600. Enough of admiring his ship; he'd better eat, then awaken Asin.
* * *
As it turned out, Asin was already awake and eating. He was normally a plump man, but the months of careful food rationing meant that he couldn't even properly be called stout anymore. He had a overall pleasantness to him: a warm, round face, dark, smooth skin, a flatter, wider nose, and a perpetual smile.
He looked up as Jovas entered the galley. "You're up early," he grinned.
"Computer woke me up at 0520." He walked around the tiny table they shared and kissed Asin good morning.
"Nothing amiss, I hope?" Asin activated a ration bag for Jovas. The self-heater rapidly steamed the food inside.
"Nothing amiss," he confirmed. The bag peeled itself apart at the seam, revealing a nutritious and tasty, if disgusting-looking brick of concentrated food. "We're heading to the inner star system. There might be some interesting stuff for an in-depth analysis."
"Hmm!" Asin murmured. "Any radio transmissions picked up?"
"None so far, though we are on the far side of the sun. We may get something yet once we clear it." Jovas ate.
Asin was quiet for a moment before he said, "What sector did you say we were in, again?"
"The Sirius Sector," Jovas replied.
"Really!" Asin chirped with delight. "We might in for something very interesting, then! I was reading a new article about the origins of humanity. Some documents were re-discovered that gives us the name of the home world and the sector it resided in! The Sirius Sector is that place!"
Jovas kept his face inert. "Fascinating. And the name of the world?"
"Terra. It's from an archaic language, not Galactic Standard. Unfortunately, as the information was discovered in a copy of a, ah, a children's book, no important characteristics are given. I imagine that there are hundreds of systems in this sector."
"True enough, but we might be lucky eventually."
Asin nodded. "Perhaps. It's not really important, though. Origins is rather sleepy section of human history. Biologists tell us that all ten quadrillion humans are the same species and therefore must come from a common ancestral stock, so it is a given that this stock must have evolved on some single world. No one really cares, though, which world it is. That's why there's so little mention of it in pre-Expungement literature, and why we haven't, as of yet, found any concrete data about it. It's out there, somewhere, though."
Jovas smiled; he always loved to listen to Asin talk. It seemed to make him his happiest to share his knowledge. "How can you be sure?"
"Well, you can't be sure," Asin smiled back, "but realistically, very little was irrevocably lost in the Expungement. A thousand year old database that's been automatically replicated through the ages by its hosting company could hold reams of information, just waiting for someone to stumble across it. One of the interesting traits of the lost colonies is how much they value their history; it's remarkably well-archived in most instances. When you are a single world, links to the past are much more treasured."
