The Luna Deception Read Online Free PDF
Author: Felix R. Savage
was the clue. UNVRP was increasingly unpopular. Mendoza knew they’d never get approval of the Phase 5 ramp if the public connected it with the Venus Project. Lorna must have reached the same conclusion independently.
Which left the question of what business it was of his, anyway.
And Mendoza knew the answer to that: None whatsoever.
But he needed some distraction from the Mars forums. And Lorna was a man you did not want to piss off. So he added some finishing touches to one of his sample polls, and sent it.
★
Luna, once known simply as the Moon, had first been settled in the mid-21 st century by sixteen scientists, eleven chickens, and two pigs (one of which promptly died). Those pioneers had established their base on the sunny side of Malapert Mountain because it was near water—in the bottoms of the permanently shadowed craters at the lunar south pole; because it was covered with thick, workable regolith; and because it stayed in sunlight all year round, guaranteeing a permanent supply of solar energy.
Since then, humanity had spread to the north pole, the dark side of the moon, and the equatorial regions. That was when the lunar economy had really taken off. The equator was where the helium-3 was. Nowadays, nearly-free energy flooded the grid throughout the lunar days and nights. The conurbation known as Shackleton City sprawled over 150 horizontal and eight vertical kilometers, including its many exurban bedroom communities. That original outpost on Malapert Mountain had long since turned into a tourist attraction, complete with one live pig and one authentically dead-looking plastic one.
However, you could still experience something akin to the isolation that those first pioneers must have felt, alone in the universe, 400,000 kilometers from home.
All you had to do was ride the commuter rail during rush hour.
Jammed in among the native residents of Shackleton City, Mendoza had never felt so alone. He’d taken the drastic step of emailing Elfrida, since he hadn’t heard from her. Nothing heavy, just a friendly ‘Hi, how’re you doing?’ And half an hour later, it had bounced back to him. She’d blocked his ID.
His isolation ended abruptly when a disembodied voice addressed him through his iEars.
“Hello … John Mendoza! You have been selected to participate in a public poll!”
Mendoza ground his teeth.
“Please confirm your participation by saying ‘Yes’!”
Voting was compulsory. ~Yes.
The poll materialized in front of him. It overlapped the real straphangers, but it was small enough that its face showed up nicely against the back of someone’s black frock coat. It was a teenage girl with a punky mop of blonde hair.
Mendoza recoiled in shock.
This was his poll.
The ‘sample’ he’d sent Derek Lorna just a few hours earlier.
It was out and running.
“So!” the poll said brightly, speaking the words he’d written for it. “Mercury is a small planet near the sun. We get a lot of stuff from there. If you’re seeing this on a screen, it was probably made on Mercury! Actually, Mercury is the whole reason we don’t have to have dirty, toxic, pollute-y mines on Earth anymore. But some people are saying that we should NOT expand our mining operations there. What do you think?!? Are they freaking nuts, or what?”
Mendoza wanted to sink through the floor of the carriage. The question was incredibly slanted, even for the polling business. He never would have released it to the public without further tweaking.
~Yes, I think they’re nuts, he responded flatly.
“Thank you for your participation! Would you like to see how other people have responded?”
~Yes.
The poll vanished, to be replaced by a graph. So far, 87% of respondents had agreed that NOT to ramp up mining operations on Mercury would be freaking nuts. Despite his consternation, Mendoza felt a twinge of professional satisfaction. That was almost exactly the result he’d modelled.
His HUD area lit up. Someone was
Which left the question of what business it was of his, anyway.
And Mendoza knew the answer to that: None whatsoever.
But he needed some distraction from the Mars forums. And Lorna was a man you did not want to piss off. So he added some finishing touches to one of his sample polls, and sent it.
★
Luna, once known simply as the Moon, had first been settled in the mid-21 st century by sixteen scientists, eleven chickens, and two pigs (one of which promptly died). Those pioneers had established their base on the sunny side of Malapert Mountain because it was near water—in the bottoms of the permanently shadowed craters at the lunar south pole; because it was covered with thick, workable regolith; and because it stayed in sunlight all year round, guaranteeing a permanent supply of solar energy.
Since then, humanity had spread to the north pole, the dark side of the moon, and the equatorial regions. That was when the lunar economy had really taken off. The equator was where the helium-3 was. Nowadays, nearly-free energy flooded the grid throughout the lunar days and nights. The conurbation known as Shackleton City sprawled over 150 horizontal and eight vertical kilometers, including its many exurban bedroom communities. That original outpost on Malapert Mountain had long since turned into a tourist attraction, complete with one live pig and one authentically dead-looking plastic one.
However, you could still experience something akin to the isolation that those first pioneers must have felt, alone in the universe, 400,000 kilometers from home.
All you had to do was ride the commuter rail during rush hour.
Jammed in among the native residents of Shackleton City, Mendoza had never felt so alone. He’d taken the drastic step of emailing Elfrida, since he hadn’t heard from her. Nothing heavy, just a friendly ‘Hi, how’re you doing?’ And half an hour later, it had bounced back to him. She’d blocked his ID.
His isolation ended abruptly when a disembodied voice addressed him through his iEars.
“Hello … John Mendoza! You have been selected to participate in a public poll!”
Mendoza ground his teeth.
“Please confirm your participation by saying ‘Yes’!”
Voting was compulsory. ~Yes.
The poll materialized in front of him. It overlapped the real straphangers, but it was small enough that its face showed up nicely against the back of someone’s black frock coat. It was a teenage girl with a punky mop of blonde hair.
Mendoza recoiled in shock.
This was his poll.
The ‘sample’ he’d sent Derek Lorna just a few hours earlier.
It was out and running.
“So!” the poll said brightly, speaking the words he’d written for it. “Mercury is a small planet near the sun. We get a lot of stuff from there. If you’re seeing this on a screen, it was probably made on Mercury! Actually, Mercury is the whole reason we don’t have to have dirty, toxic, pollute-y mines on Earth anymore. But some people are saying that we should NOT expand our mining operations there. What do you think?!? Are they freaking nuts, or what?”
Mendoza wanted to sink through the floor of the carriage. The question was incredibly slanted, even for the polling business. He never would have released it to the public without further tweaking.
~Yes, I think they’re nuts, he responded flatly.
“Thank you for your participation! Would you like to see how other people have responded?”
~Yes.
The poll vanished, to be replaced by a graph. So far, 87% of respondents had agreed that NOT to ramp up mining operations on Mercury would be freaking nuts. Despite his consternation, Mendoza felt a twinge of professional satisfaction. That was almost exactly the result he’d modelled.
His HUD area lit up. Someone was