Legacy

The classic "Life On Another Planet" takes a twist when Earth is no longer suitable for bio-survival.

The telescope focused in further, a thousand unknown stars whipped by as the man sought for...what was he looking for? Elements and compounds for further advancement of his species, which is at a stand still due to the shortage of Carbon, or the answer of the all important question...

He leaned back, causing his lab-chair to squeal in protest, and rubbed his sore eyes, this was one night too many to be up late looking for that elusive objective...

One weary eye opened to peer at the face of the watch on his upraised wrist. He'd delved well into the wee morning hours again... And the daytime workers were due in a few hours.

He skidded his chair across the cement back to his computer and checked the data again, it was true; another point of the sky that was dead of the required elements. Systematically, he changed the coordinates on the computer to then next point of the sky; 32.492 declination, 194.205 right ascension, and took a healthy swig from a nearby coffee mug, the lukewarm brew revitalizing him. Swinging back to the telescope as it began to move fluidly to the required degree, the astronomer glanced into the eye piece, staring at the mesh of light moving past his vision, but one star caught his eye. He quickly stopped the auto align process, and using a joystick to manually move the telescope, he focused in on that bright blue light.

"...odd," he murmured. Fingers moving almost unconsciously, he zoomed in on the object. His breath caught. It was almost unheard of. One of the first stars to ever come to be? Nearly all were extinct, and they were the ones to shine the brightest. If any planet were near it, any life form there could use it as a sun.

And now to look for that something to affirm his suspicions.

There was a hiss of the air sealed doors behind him. Pulling away from the telescope, the astronomer sighed tiredly. Slumped shoulders sagged even more at the sound of a familiar patterned kunk, kunk, kla-kunk of low heels. They stopped just behind his chair, and he felt the pressure and heat of a person looming over his shoulder.

"Dr. Hansen…"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his colleague; Dr. Doris Johnson was forever a pain in his ego, even if she was one of the most dependable on the work force. Sadly, it didn't help that she was also his supervisor. Resigned, he awaited her routine lecture.

"I'm quite sure we discussed that you were supposed to be looking in the direction of the Alpha Centauri's solar system. Not in…" she paused to read the co-ordinates and kissed her teeth. "Look, Viktor. You know there's nothing in that sector, so why are you still looking there?"

"There's nothing around the Alpha Centauri, Doris," he deliberately emphasizing her name, knowing she hated to be addressed so informally on the job. If professionalism were a cult, she'd be the ring leader. "So why should I look there?"

It really was too early in the morning for this.

"Because I told you to," Dr. Johnson replied. "And because it's completely logical. I have Jameson on my a*s and the Chancellor is breathing down his neck. Do try to cooperate, Hansen. Jobs depend on this research. Life as we know it depends on our progress."

"Look," Viktor gritted out, too tired to argue -- and with a woman at that. "We both know that it's fruitless. Tell Jameson to find another logical area to look in because this isn't working."

"You're so set on your own favour that you're probably not even looking properly," she accused. This time Viktor did roll his eyes. He was about to verbally make an escape when the doors reopened.

In the doorway was one of the many interns roaming around the halls lately. "Dr. Hansen? Dr. Jameson wants you in his office immediately."

Speak of the devil.

He looked at the brunette who hovered over him and gave her a mock salute. The thirty three year old scientist left with his coat and stale coffee, following a very familiar path through the Centre. The few roving astrophysicists and interns are all that remained of the night crew.

Silently cursing the practically permanent bags under his eyes, Viktor headed toward the fourth floor, where his boss was to be. He straightened his tie, askew from frustrated abuse, and straightened his dress shirt. He was one scientist who didn't believe in lab coats.

I'm looking at stars, he'd said. What's the worst that can happen? Spilt coffee?

Viktor stopped short when he heard incoherent yelling on the other side of the frosted glass sliding doors. A scant five seconds later, an intern left the office, fighting off tears.

The idiot.

Everyone knew that you had to grow a pair before working under Jameson. Either that or at least match his IQ.

The astronomer walked in, knocking on the glass as he entered.

"What!" The head professor's back was turned, and was possibly on a call.

"It wouldn't do you well if I were the Chancellor, Jameson." Viktor said casually. He may be worn to the point of terrorism but he still needed a job, and not many were left in any field with his expertise. And a job like this came to only the best and brightest.

Jameson whirled around and seemed to perk up a bit, grunting in response, and told him to wait with a raise of a hand. Viktor stood patiently, silently yearning for a bed and a pillow.

"You're coming with me," Jameson said, walking past the astrophysicist without another word. Viktor, bemused, followed. He fell in step with the head of the department, their pace brisk.

"How far have you gotten, Hansen?"

"Not too far, sir." Viktor answered carefully. "But there's something that may help us."

"Good. But save that thought for later. The Chancellor wants to meet with you."

"What?" Viktor breathed, completely stumped for that moment. "What for?"

There was silence for a few moments, while Dr. Jameson seemed to panic on the inside. "Chancellor Lione is getting agitated. Acid rain has reached critical levels in some parts of the world, the areas actually being evicted of its residents to save their lives. The ozone layer is behaving erratically, with areas being exposed to ultraviolet rays at varying times. The government had made a decision to destroy all conventional means of travel in favour of the dangerous hydrogen fuel cells."

"But they haven't perfected the H-Cell yet, Alana Dwenning down in Carbonics told me there is still a large chance that it will explode."

"That is why it is paramount that you cull the chancellor with a report on the progress that you have made."

Both men stepped into an awaiting elevator. The conversation ceased, as they were sharing classified information and the elevator was filled with talkative intern and curious employee alike. Jameson's foot was tapping and he kept glancing at his watch, nerves showing slightly on his normally vexed mug. He more or less glared at the screen which showed the floor levels, as if they were changing too slowly.

Viktor used this time to rouse up a reasonable report on the progress that they had made on the for resource plentiful planets. The gears in his brain working quickly to summarize a tally of all the planets, his photographic memory helping him by bringing up the board posting where all prospective planet information is kept. By his count there were at least 15 in a 50 light year radius, definitely a good count by Viktor's reasoning.

The elevator dinged, the pneumatic doors whooshed open and a brief view of the biological section of the Station was visible, the central hall of this wing containing a tall and majestic coniferous tree. People poured out of the elevator, only the odd person remained, biology was a quite popular branch. The next stop was electronics, the last of the people left quietly and quickly, the electronics ward was the last before the top, the Chancellor's Office.

"Are you prepared Mr. Viktor Hansen?" Dr. Jameson said suddenly, breaking his few minute silence.

"Yes, I have-"

"Good, let's hope the Chancellor is sated." the Doctor butted in, leaving the implications hanging in the air as the elevator lurched to a stop.