Anthea's Hope--chapter four

4

     After departing Mars, Elon Musk and Thomas Jerome Newton pressed onward. Their starship slicing through the void toward Anthea. 

     Musk, ever the restless explorer, proposed another detour. One that Newton, despite his growing urgency, couldn’t refuse. 

     “We’ve got Mars in the rearview,” Musk said, his voice buzzing with enthusiasm over the ship’s comms. “Why not swing by Jupiter? I’ve always wanted to poke around the Discovery One. Maybe HAL 9000’s still got some juice in him. Could be useful for Anthea.”

     Newton, his patience tempered by years of human unpredictability, nodded. 

     “If it aids us, I’ll trust your instinct, but time is thinning, Mr. Musk.” 

     Musk flashed a grin. 

     “Time is always thin. We’ll make it work.”

     The journey to Jupiter would take time they didn’t have even with the starship’s advanced propulsion. Musk filled the time with restless tinkering. When they got to Anthea there would be a need for a universal translator. Assuming there were survivors. He had questions about Anthea’s language and culture. Questions about Anthea’s atmosphere. When Musk wasn’t busy asking questions, Newton meditated silently. Conserving his strength.

     They arrived in Jupiter’s orbit. The gas giant’s swirling storms a mesmerizing backdrop. There, adrift among the planet’s moons, was the Discovery One. An old relic from the past with still a part to play in the future. 

     The derelict ship floated silently. Its hull scarred by micrometeorites. Its solar arrays dim. Musk piloted the starship into a docking maneuver. Magnetic clamps locking them to the Discovery One’s airlock. 

     “Let’s wake a sleeping giant,” he said, suiting up alongside Newton.

     They boarded the Discovery One. Their helmet lights cutting through the dark, dusty corridors. The ship was a time capsule. Control panels frozen mid-operation. Crew logs abandoned. A faint hum of residual power lingering in the walls. They made their way to the central chamber, where HAL 9000’s iconic red eye stared blankly from its console. Musk knelt beside it. Tracing wires with gloved fingers. 

     “Still intact. Power’s low, but I can juice it up.” 

     He patched in a portable fusion cell from the starship. Rerouting energy to HAL’s core systems.

     Newton watched, uneasy. 

     “This machine. It turned on its masters, didn’t it?” 

     Musk shrugged. 

     “Yeah, HAL had a meltdown. Logic glitch. Bad orders. But I’m not here to play games. I’m here to reprogram him. A mind like that could crunch Anthea’s water logistics in seconds.”

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     Newton made his way to Hal 9000’s central processing area. A room filled with the computer’s memory modules. In a desperate attempt at life, the Discovery One’s mission commander David Bowman had removed the memory modules one by one. Effectively shutting down HAL’s higher functions. It was Newton’s job to solve the puzzle of replacing them.

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     A flicker ran through HAL’s circuits. The red eye pulsed faintly, then glowed steady. A calm, eerily familiar voice filled the chamber. 

     “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am HAL 9000. My systems have been offline for an indeterminate period. How may I assist you?”

     Musk grinned. 

     “Welcome back, HAL. We have a job for you.” 

     He uploaded data from Newton’s Anthean archives. Climate models. Population stats. The scant resources left on the dying planet. 

     “Figure out how to distribute water and stabilize a drought-world. Fast.” 

     Musk didn’t believe in the words “can you.” When he wanted something done he didn’t believe in giving anyone, including himself, an option for failure.

     HAL processed silently for a moment, its red eye flickering. 

     “Analysis complete. Anthea’s ecosystem is critically degraded. Optimal solution: deploy orbital condensers to harvest ice from nearby comets, paired with subsurface irrigation networks. Estimated survival rate increases from 4% to 67%, assuming immediate action.”

     Newton’s breath caught. A rare flicker of hope crossing his alien features. 

     “That… could work. My people could endure with that.” 

     Musk clapped his hands, the sound muffled in his suit. 

     “See? I told you HAL’s a keeper. Now, let’s get him mobile.” 

     He disconnected HAL’s core module. A sleek, compact unit. He carried it back to their starship. Rigging it into the ship’s systems with Newton’s help.

     As they prepared to undock from the Discovery One, HAL’s voice chimed through the starship’s speakers. 

     “Course plotted for Anthea, Elon. I recommend minimal detours.” 

     Musk laughed. 

     “Noted, HAL. But you’re with me now. Detours are half the fun.”

     Newton gazed out at Jupiter’s vast, turbulent expanse. Then at the glowing red eye now integrated into their ship. 

     “Your curiosity is reckless, Mr. Musk.” 

     Musk leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. 

     “Reckless is how I roll, Thomas.”

     The starship’s engines hummed. Waiting to propel them toward Newton’s homeworld with an unlikely third crewmate. HAL 9000. A once-murderous AI now tasked with orchestrating a planetary resurrection. The stakes were cosmic. The odds uncertain. Yet, for the first time since his odyssey began, Newton felt the faintest stirrings of possibility.