Existence

Typical new-money cowardice. I know you tried the simulator, Sander. You know how to do it and your boat is equipped. You’re just a frightened hypocrite.

Insults, meant to goad. Hacker knew he should ignore the dope.

But nobody called a Sander “new money”!

My grandmother shorted Polaroid, then Xerox, and then Microsoft. She bought Virgin and Telcram low and sold them high, while your family was still lamenting Cromwell in the House of Lords.

Hands flew, calling up subroutines that slewed his comm laser about, using short-range radar to pick out Smits amid the ionic haze. And, yes, Hacker had spent time in the “space war” simulator, back at training camp. Who could resist?

Oh, no you don’t, Sander. Just watch this!

The radar blip shifted, breaking into multiple decoys… an old electronic warfare trick that Hacker swiftly countered with a deconvolution program. You won’t get away that easily.

Part of him grew aware that reentry had begun. Faint shimmers were starting to appear around his heat shield, encroaching on the brittle stars. Those checklists awaited-

– but how many times had he already run through them, with his team? A hundred? Let the capsule do its thing, he figured. The ai is in some ways smarter than I am.

Meanwhile, that blue-blooded boor kept cackling and taunting. Now that Hacker had penetrated his electronic camouflage, Smits used his onboard maneuvering jets to dodge and veer, preventing a good fix.

Imbecile! You’re overriding the control systems, just when your ai may need to make adjustments.

The face in the holo array seemed to grow more animated and manic by the second.

Come on Sander! You can do better than that! You jumped-up shop boy!

Hacker stopped and blinked, realizing. Even the baronet wasn’t normally this stupid. Something must be wrong.

He stopped trying to target a hit-beam and transmitted a warning instead.

Smits, put your helmet on! I think your air mix may be off. Either concentrate on piloting or switch to auto-

No use. The visage only grew more derisive, more inflamed… possibly even delirious. Words floated outward from that mouth, boldface and italicized, swirling like a vituperative cyclone. Meanwhile, several more times, the fool sent his laser sweeping across Hacker’s capsule, chortling with each “victory.”

Now comes the coup de grace… Sander!

Hacker quickly decided. The best thing he could do for the fellow was to remove a distraction. So he cut off all contact, with a hard bite on one tooth. Anyway, getting rid of that leering grimace sure improved his own frame of mind.

I am so going to report that character to the Spacer Club! Maybe even the Estate Council, he thought, trying to settle down and put the incident aside, as more ionization flames flickered all around, reaching upward, probing the capsule like eager tentacles, seeking a way inside. The tunnel of star-flecked blackness in front of him grew narrower as reentry colors intruded from all sides. Shuddering vibrations stroked his spine.

Normally, Hacker loved this part of each suborbital excursion, when his plummeting craft would shake, resonate, and moan, filling every nerve and blood vessel with more exhilaration than you could get anywhere, this side of New Vegas. Hell, more than New Vegas.

Of course, this was also the point when some rich snobs wound up puking in their respirators. Or began screaming in terror, through the entire plunge to Earth. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to wish that upon Smits.

I hope the fool got his helmet on. Maybe I should try one more…

Then an alarm throbbed.

He didn’t hear it directly with his drugged and clamped eardrums, but as a tremor in his jaw. With insistent pulse code, the computer told him:

GUIDANCE SYSTEM ERROR…

FLIGHT PATH CORRECTION MISFIRED…

CALCULATING NEW IMPACT ZONE…

“What?” Hacker shouted, though the rattle and roar tore away his words. “To hell with that! I paid for triple redundancy-”

He stopped. It was pointless to scream at an ai.

“Call the pickup boats and tell them-”

COMMUNICATION SYSTEM ENCRYPTION ERROR…

UNABLE TO UPLOAD PREARRANGED SPECTRUM SPREAD…

UNABLE… TO… CONTACT… RECOVERY… TEAMS…

“Override encryption! Send in the clear. Acknowledge!”

This was no time to avoid paparazzi and eco-nuts. There were occasions for secrecy-and others when it made no sense.

Only, this time the capsule’s ai didn’t answer at all. The pulses in his jaw dissolved into a plaintive juttering as subprocessors continued their mysterious crapout. Hacker cursed, pounding the capsule with his fist.

“I spent plenty for a top-grade kit. Someone’s gonna pay for this!”

The words were raw, unheard vibrations in his throat. But Hacker would remember this vow. He’d signed waivers under the International Extreme Sports Treaty. But there were fifty thousand private investigation and enforcement services across Earth. Some would bend Cop Guild rules, for a triple fee.

Harness straps bit his flesh. Even the sonic pickups in his mandible hit overload set points and cut out, as turbulence passed any level he had known… then surged beyond.

Reentry angle is wrong, he realized, as helmet rattled brain like dice in a cup. These little sport capsules… don’t leave much margin. In moments… I could be a very rich cinder.

Something in Hacker relished that. A novel experience, scraping nerves. A howling veer past death. But even that was spoiled by one, infuriating fact.

I’m not getting what I paid for.

ENTROPY

As we embark on our long list of threats to human existence, shall we start with natural disasters? That is how earlier top critters met their end. Those fierce dinosaurs and other dominant beasts all met their doom with dull surprise, having no hand, paw, or claw in bringing it about.

So how might the universe do us in? Well, there are solar superflares, supernovae, and giant black holes that might veer past our sun. Or micro black holes, colliding with the Earth and gobbling us from within. Or getting caught in the searchlight sweep of a magnetar or gamma-ray burst, or a titanic explosion in the galactic center.

Or what if our solar system slams at high speed into a dense molecular cloud, sending a million comets falling our way? Or how about classics? Like collision with an asteroid? (More on that, later.) Then there are those supervolcanos, still building up pressure beneath Yellowstone and a dozen other hot spots-giant magma pools at superhigh pressure, pushing and probing for release. Yes we had a scare already. But one, medium-size belch didn’t make the threat go away. It’s a matter of when, not if.

The Lifeboat Foundation’s list of natural extinction threats goes on and on. Dozens and dozens of scenarios, each with low-but-significant odds, all the way to the inevitable burnout of the sun. Once, we were assured that it would take five billion years to happen. Only, now, astronomers say our star’s gradual temperature rise will reach a lethal point sooner! A threshold when Earth will no longer be able to shed enough heat, even if we scrubbed every trace of greenhouse gas.