Anthea's Hope--chapter one

  Anthea’s Hope

 story by Jim Duchene

tech by Grok

1

     The desert stretched endlessly before Thomas Jerome Newton. A cracked and desolate expanse that mirrored the fate of his home planet, Anthea. 

     He stood atop a dune. His thin frame cloaked in a tailored suit that 

seemed out of place against the barren landscape. His eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, scanned the horizon. Not Earth’s, but a simulation he’d built in a Nevada warehouse. It was a desperate attempt to feel something of home. A planet dying of drought. Its inhabitants reduced to dust and memory.

     Newton had come to Earth decades ago with a mission. Amass wealth. Develop technology. Save Anthea by bringing water back. He’d succeeded in part. His patents had made him richer than King Solomon, but the planet’s bureaucracies, wars, and petty squabbles had delayed him. Now, time was running out. Anthea’s last transmissions had ceased months ago. He feared he was too late. But there was one man who might understand his vision. One man who dreamed as big as he did. One man who might help.

     Newton tracked Elon Musk to a SpaceX launch site in Texas. The air thrummed with the roar of a Skypiercer preparing for liftoff. Musk stood near the control tower. His sharp eyes fixed on the rocket. Newton approached. His gait deliberate. His alien calm unshaken by the chaos around him.

     “Mr. Musk,” Newton said. His voice soft, yet cutting through the noise like a blade. “I need a word.”

     Musk turned. He squinted at the pale, otherworldly figure before him. 

     “You look like a man who’s seen some shit,” Musk quipped, leaning back for a different perspective.

     Newton stood there. Waiting. Letting time pass.

     “Okay,” Musk said, after a while, “you win. You’re Thomas Newton, aren’t you? The recluse who patented half the tech I grew up idolizing. What brings you out of hiding?”

     Newton didn’t waste time. 

     “My planet is dying. Anthea. No water. No life. I’ve spent decades on Earth trying to solve it, but I can’t do it alone. Your rockets, your vision could save them.”

     Musk raised an eyebrow. Half-amused. Half-intrigued. 

     “You’re saying you’re an alien? And you want me to haul water to another planet? That’s a hell of a pitch.”

     Newton pulled a small device from his pocket. A metallic orb that projected a holographic map of Anthea’s system. 

     “I have the coordinates. I have technology you can’t imagine. Energy systems. Propulsion enhancements. Help me and I’ll give you the keys to the stars.”

     Musk studied the hologram. His mind racing. He’d spent years dreaming of Mars. Of humanity as a multi-planetary species. This was different. Crazier. But the challenge intrigued him. 

     “Water’s heavy,” he said finally. “Even with starships we’re talking hundreds of launches. Where do we get it?”

     “Earth has plenty,” Newton said. “The ice caps are melting anyway. Redirect it. Or tap the subsurface oceans of Europa. We could even intercept a cluster of icy asteroids and detour them to my home planet. We have options, Mr. Musk. Plenty of options.”

     Musk hesitated, hands in his pockets. 

     “Let’s say I buy this. What’s in it for me? SpaceX isn’t a philanthropy.”

     Newton leaned closer. His voice seductive. 

     “You want Mars? I’ll give you galaxies. Anthea’s tech will make your ships faster, stronger, cheaper. You’ll colonize ten planets in the time it’d take you to finish one.”

     For a moment, Musk was silent. He stared at his rocket leaving the Earth. Piercing the sky. Crying out like a thousand angry gods. Then he grinned. That reckless, boyish grin that had launched a thousand wild ideas. 

     “First things first, Newton,” he said. “You’ve got my attention, now let’s run the numbers.”

 

     Newton and Musk became an unlikely duo. SpaceX engineers and Tesla robots worked alongside Newton’s alien blueprints. Retrofitting starships with Anthean propulsion cores. Integrating Newton’s alien designs into starship prototypes. They devised an initial plan. Harvest ice from Greenland’s melting sheets. Load it into orbit. Finally, sling it toward Anthea using a hybrid of Musk’s reusable rockets and Newton’s reality-bending tech.

     The mission wasn’t without setbacks. Governments balked at the ice harvest. Environmentalists protested. Newton’s fragile body began to fail under Earth’s gravity. But Musk pushed forward. Driven by the promise of what lay beyond. 

     “We’re not just saving your planet,” he told Newton one night as they watched the night sky. “We’re saving humanity.”

     A fleet was readied. Gleaming silver giants retrofitted with shimmering Anthean drives. Their crew, a crew of robots. Newton and Musk boarded the lead ship, christened Anthea’s Hope, on a crisp, moonless night. The launch was a spectacle. Televised globally. 

     Musk posted on X.

     “Off to save a planet. Back soon. Maybe.” 

      The world buzzed with conspiracy theories. Not realizing the truth was enough.