branches had been created to cover every surface. Thickened limbs, carefully cut and polished, created a room worthy of both an art gallery and a literary institution.
Sam didn’t visit as often as he should, but at least once a month, he made the pilgrimage to check on his creation, the Tobes, so far removed from his reality on Chariklo. He settled into the alcove containing the ancient computer. Dust covered the keyboard. If it had more than one purpose, it might have received more use, but that would have limited Sam’s access. The screen crackled to life, displaying Joshua, the Tobe who’d worked as Sam’s assistant at Rendition, sitting at a large wooden desk. The awkward kid was now a confident executive.
“Sorry it’s been so long. Hope I’m not interrupting your day,” Sam said.
The smile that spread across Joshua’s face reminded Sam of the technology-based teenager he’d met so long ago. “Not at all, Boss. I’ve always got time for you.”
“I’ll take boss over god any day of the week.”
Ellie materialized next to her brother—her look every bit as mature and professional. “It’s good to see you. We’re relieved you called. If you don’t mind, can we dispense with the pleasantries? There’s a problem, and it directly affects Chariklo.” A no-nonsense woman had replaced the playful, emotional girl Sam remembered.
“What’s up?” What could be so dire it could reach his Eden all the way from Earth?
Joshua transitioned the image of him and his sister to a shot of the sun. Or so Sam thought. Ellie’s voice quivered. “The Moons of Jupiter have been busy. Unfortunately, it took us too long to figure out what they’d been up to. By the time our moon lit up, we were powerless to stop them.”
Sam squinted at the display. His eyes adjusted to the brightness. It wasn’t as intense as the real sun. But to eyes grown accustomed to the perpetual early-morning dawn of a planet on the edge of the solar system, it looked pretty damn bright. In darker seas of molten rock, he made out the familiar features of the old moon. He sat, dumfounded. There would never again be a completely dark night sky. The increase in heat radiating down would further disrupt the already traumatized atmosphere. But he feared the super-heated junkyard wasn’t even the worst of the problem.
Joshua left the display up as he explained the situation. “It wasn’t just radioactive garbage they shot to our moon. It was the results of early experiments. They’ve found a way to turn those little moons circling Jupiter into moon-suns. And once they did that—”
“They no longer needed the solar transfer array,” Sam said. “They’ve cut themselves off, then?”
“Yes, and as they no longer needed the solar energy, they also cut the communication link that piggybacked onto the transfer array,” Joshua said.
It wasn’t completely unexpected. From the moment Dr. Elliot Shot announced the Tobes were free on Earth, the Moons had started pulling away. Their version of the new life form would be kept in submission to the different corporations that ruled each moon. The last thing the various boards of directors wanted was for their advanced beings to learn about freedom. But knowing the Moons sought isolation and seeing the effects of their actions were two very different things.
“At the risk of sounding overly uncaring, how does this affect us out here on our tiny planet?” Sam asked.
Joshua returned to the computer display. “Once they created their own power sources, they needed a way to transfer that energy—and communication—among their own moons. The easiest method was to redirect the old solar-array satellites.”
“But they can’t do that. Those belong to the Mars Consortium. If they redirected those relays…” The words stuck in Sam’s throat. The life-giving energy of the sun—so very far away—only reached the far ends of the solar system through the linking of all the various satellites