If you'd rather place an order by talking to one of our cheerful order desk clerks, please call 1-888-232-4444 (USA and Canada only) or 250-383-6864. From Europe, ring our UK order desk clerk at local rate number 0845 230 9601 (UK only) or 44 (0)1865 722 113.

Spacestation Ark

by David J. Nowel

297 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #00-0005; ISBN 1-55212-341-3; US$13.50, C$15.39, EUR11.00, £7.50

Spacestation Ark, David Nowel's first novel, is the story of visionary writer Alex Abramawitz and his adventures in the new society he's founded on a space platform orbiting Earth.

Read more!

about the book      about the author      Chapter Four      catalogue info

About the Book Spacestation Ark shows us a new reality where human creativity and fantastic technology meet, where every citizen's potential for greatness is realized. Can humankind ever become perfect? Can anyone, as Alex claims, really become a genius? Are sex and food really the two strongest forms of addictive behavior known to humans? Should we let computers raise our children? David Nowel's ideas about the Earth's future are startling, exciting and controversial. As you embark on this enthralling tale of suspense and romance, you'll find yourself asking the questions:Is it possible? Could it ever happen?and What can I do to get on board the Ark? Whatever your answer, you won't be able to put down this riveting and erotic story of one man's quest to save the world. 10% of all profits from this book will be set aside for the planning and construction of Spacestation Ark. Read the news release for this title. The author has the following titles also available from Trafford: For Males Only, and Nickers, The Fish From Far, Far Away.

---

About the Author David Nowel was born in 1935 in New Britain, Connecticut. He received his liberal arts education, Pre-Med, and B.A. in Chemistry and Psychology from Hobart College in Geneva, New York. He worked for two years in the neurophysiological laboratory at the former Hartford Retreat, now The Institute of Living, in Hartford, Connecticut. The laboratory's research was directed by Karl Pribram, M.D., now department head of neuropsychology at Stanford University. Dr. Pribram is recognized as the father of neurophysiology. During the author's short time at the Hartford Retreat, he was exposed to the best minds in neurophysiology. Since that time, he has spent thirty years in sales for several national biomedical companies. Recently, he has become involved in the environmental field and is presently Business Development Manager for Groundwater Remediation in Irvine, California. He lives in Huntington Beach, California. In his spare time, he is putting the finishing touches on the following books: Before Space Station Ark, After Space Station Ark, and A Manual for Men Only: How to Avoid Dating and Save Thousands of Dollars. Contact David at 760-777-4279 or email davidnowel@cs.com

---

Chapter Four

EVEN FRIENDS ARGUE

As Vladimir considered the ramifications of an unauthorized release of research data to Alex, Alex himself, adrenalized by his vision of world harmony, soliloquized on the social advances of the Ark. Vladimir watched him with numb suspicion. Why should he play a role in this man's version of world history? He wanted to believe Alex, to trust in him, but he sensed danger in taking the risks of a revolutionary. Although Alex had never toppled a government with guns or with explosives, the Ark's economic and social influence made the governments and law enforcement systems of Earth look like anachronisms. Would he be betraying his country to pass information to Alex? What if he was caught? He felt certain there was little chance that anyone would notice that he had changed the scope of his experiments or that they would see any significance in such changes. But there was always the possibility. He hated to think of how that might affect his career, his family, his position. Alex, misunderstanding or paying no attention to Vladimir's contemplative state, continued like an impassioned lecturer.

"Since I've been in space, I've realized how completely limited our social and sexual choices were on Earth. A man only had a few options: marriage, cohabitation or dating. Anything else was considered immoral or, as it turned out, physically dangerous. Everything was unsatisfactory in one way or another, too much commitment in marriage, too little stability in dating. Really exciting sexual relationships simply weren't available. After going for years without having sex, I realized someone had to change the rules. Perhaps we've made a few missteps on the Ark, but I think we've opened people up to some of the more interesting possibilities of human sexuality. Sex is more than marriage, the biological clock and reproduction.

"I saw how addicted people became to anything that they thought made them feel better: drugs, sex, food, alcohol, gambling, movies, sleep, work, pain. Comfort became their addiction, to feel like they belonged to something. People were trying to find themselves in the conventions of the societal framework, rather than trying to discover themselves in the context of something new. Perhaps you never heard of it, but in the 1980s America presidents declared a "War on Drugs" that did almost nothing to stop people from using drugs. People became inundated with ridiculous phrases like "Just Say No," "Say Nope to Dope" and "Hugs not Drugs." They were just platitudes invented by copywriters to sell the War to the suburbs and the people who generated tax dollars. But the mistake the government made was in trying to make all drugs out to be evil. They never tried to elevate the consciousness of citizens to see that some drugs could be used to benefit society. Sure, drugs could become addictive, but most people were never taught how to control that impulse. It's the same with food. Every single person on earth is hooked like a fish on the most addictive substance ever invented and they don't even realize it!"

Once again, Alex's finger was thrust into the air in a flourish of oratorical triumph. Vladimir considered the lunch of meat, potatoes and bread he had finished just before he received his orders to meet Alex. Was that an addiction? Were grains and tubers the opiates that Marx never suspected? He couldn't resist interrupting, "A potato a drug? Is that what you are saying?"

Alex's eyes came back into focus and he turned his head toward Vladimir. "Food is the worst addiction man has ever faced. The world's governments know it, but they allow it to continue because of the profits to be made, the power to be had by controlling food supplies. A silo filled with surplus grain is every bit as powerful as a silo filled with a nuclear warhead. It used to be that people understood the value of food. They had to farm their land, grow crops. If there were drought or the crops failed, they might go hungry or lose their land. But now the terror food can inspire in people is cloaked in its ready availability. Only the few Westerners who have witnessed an African famine know the consequences of starvation. But in America and Europe, people see food a source of recreation, like the Roman forum and gladiator battles were to the elite of the first western empire."

"Many of us in Russia think that it is you on the Ark who are decadent," Vladimir responded.

"But don't you see the positive results we've gotten?" Alex cajoled. "Can't you see how far we've come?"

"I see that your science has made great leaps forward," Vladimir conceded. "But I have not seen how your people are so much happier."

"Have you ever met someone who lives here?"

"Only you. We rarely come in contact with people from the Ark. You are only computer interfaces, business conducted through terminals, never in person. I was surprised that you knew about my experiments. I never think of you people looking into what we do."

"Of course we're interested," said Alex. He wondered at the perception outsiders had of his floating society.

Vladimir pressed on, determined to find out exactly how Alex knew about his ESP work. "I am still wondering, my friend, how you knew about my research. It is classified top secret."

Alex's cockiness returned. "It didn't take much, I have to tell you, to understand what you were doing. I've known where Russian science has been headed for decades. Consider Pavlov's experiments in conditioning, followed by Russian insistence on funding research on the mind and pharmaceuticals all through the Cold War. Then add in your papers on ESP. It's not hard to follow the general plan."

"And was I that obvious?"

"It really doesn't have much to do with you. I saw the beginning of these experiments before you even thought about working in the field. In 1953, I was working in a neurophysiology lab where a brain cancer patient, during an exploratory operation, had various regions of his brain stimulated by doctors It turned out his brain was like a recording machine. He remembered passing incidents that most of us forget, symphonies and conversations he heard as a child that he now recalled with perfect clarity. That discovery was entirely accidental, but even then we believed that if we could find a way to map out the brain, we might be able to treat human memory as a library, able to access any information at will."

Vladimir rose from his seat and walked resolutely to the liquor cabinet where he began pouring himself a drink. Alex called out to him. "Vladimir, might I entice you to sample some of our synthesized drugs."

Vladimir waved the invitation off as if he were swatting a fly. "No, I enjoy my vodka. It is all I need. I get through chemical and electrolytic compounds in the experiments. I have taken enough mind changing drugs to last me for a while." Vladimir noticed that Alex was smiling at him like a parent humoring a child. "But don't let me stop you. A Russian is nothing if not tolerant of his host." He couldn't resist adding, "Especially when he is a guest of a tolerant man like yourself."

Alex chuckled to himself and crossed the room, commanding another cabinet, filled with brightly colored flasks, to reveal itself. Alex explained that each color--black, electric blue, red, yellow--represented the mood that the drug elicited. Dark colors brought on dark moods, culminating in a tragic but cathartic experience. The lighter flasks were filled with euphoric substances, bringing on varying intensities of happiness or joy. The deepest, darkest colors had a tranquilizing effect. After mulling over the contents of the cabinet, Alex selected a neutral yellow bottle and filled a small glass from which he sipped slowly.

As their conversation continued, Vladimir watched Alex to see if any change came over him after imbibing the drug. The effects revealed themselves slowly at first, with Alex displaying an increased alertness and even faster speech patterns than Vladimir had seen before. After five or six minutes, the stimulants turned Alex into a man possessed. He began to speak Russian clearly, using more and more idioms. Alex's normal willingness to discuss one aspect of a problem in detail became exaggerated and as Vladimir continued to sip from his vodka, he had difficulty keeping up with the variegation of Alex's discourse. When Vladimir spoke, Alex interrupted him almost immediately, able to relate in detail exactly what Vladimir was going to say, and then elaborate on the ideas and philosophies that had brought Vladimir to his way of thinking. After several such demonstrations, he realized that Alex was picking his mind with unfailing accuracy.

"My friend," Vladimir said, "I think it is becoming increasingly unnecessary for me to speak. You seem to know exactly what I am going to say." Alex responded with a gleeful look, but Vladimir remarked petulantly, "I think you have given yourself a slight advantage."

"Advantage, yes," Alex said playfully. "But remember, I offered the advantage to you first." For the first time in an hour, he sat down. "I propose an experiment. You just sit there and think for a while, and then we'll see what I have to say about it. Why don't you begin by thinking about what my mouth is doing?"

Vladimir glanced down at Alex's mouth and a chill ran through him. His lips had not moved. "What is it?" he asked Alex, and just as suddenly realized that he no longer had to speak to communicate with the man who sat across from him.

He heard the response, "What do you think it is?" Alex smiled serenely.

As he marveled at this development, he was overwhelmed by an urge to urinate. The need to relieved himself came so strongly he was sure Alex had suggested the urge to his body. As if in answer, a portal slid aside revealing a sizable restroom. He left his seat and entered the room, the portal sliding closed behind him. He began to urinate.

While still in the act, he wondered about the Ark's waste disposal system and was suddenly inundated with visions of blueprints with sewer lines highlighted, flow directions notated. As if in a computerized tutorial, he saw the Ark's treatment facility separating the water from waste and directing the scarce liquid into a drinking water reclamation system. The remaining organic film was broken down with bacteria, which in turn fed algae, harvested by Ark nutritionists. The algae, fortified with chemical agents, was processed into the food supply and transformed into the paste-like substance consumed by the Ark's inhabitants.

When Vladimir emerged from the bathroom, Alex stood near a table holding a palette of snack foods derived from the paste. "Care for a snack?" he asked. Vladimir looked over the regimented display of what appeared to be an appetizer plate of carrots and celery, potato chips and thinly sliced meats and crackers. His thoughts immediately cast back to the demonstration he had just envisioned and he blanched momentarily, but sampled a few anyway, finding they tasted exactly like the food they mimicked.

"Delicious," he said, taking a handful of synthetic snacks with him.

Alex spoke in Russian, "As long as you're dining with me, perhaps you'll oblige me in sampling one of our newest products. It tastes, at least we think so, exactly like champagne. Why don't we see if we can taste the difference?"

Alex produced a pair of exquisite crystal glasses, obviously manufactured on Earth. Up until this time, the containers they had used were made with a glass-like film, indestructible unless exposed to certain light waves. Dishes and glasses made of this substance were sanitized by disintegrating them with light-frequency generators and then remodeling the recycled material. Cleaning normal glasses and dishes on the Ark required far too much water for the Ark to expend on cleaning up after meals and real glass, they had discovered, took on some alarmingly dangerous qualities when utilized in Zero-G.

"These pieces date back to the nineteenth century," Alex explained, holding the glasses to the light so that the cut crystal cast splintered webs of reflected light on the walls. "They're from my own collection, but anyone on the Ark may use them for special occasions."

Vladimir rose unsteadily from his seat, and took a drink from the bottle of vodka. He swept aside the glass of champagne, upsetting the tray of food. He pressed his face close to Alex's. "I am tiring of these games. I like to drink vodka, but you think I am an alcoholic. I like to eat and you give me crap, literally!"

Despite his confrontational manner, Alex was gladdened to see his friend sparked to defiance. His self-control diminished, he was lashing out at the daunting future of the Ark offered a man not particularly directly in the Ark's program.

"This newfangled ship. These drugs. Do you think this is human?" Vladimir demanded. "This Ark? Do you really believe in all this?"

"Do you really believe in Europe, in Russia? In what is happening between all the hundreds of little nations down there? Is that human? Black skin separated from white. Eyes turned up warring with eyes turned down. Blue eyes at odds with brown eyes. Nations at war as all I see. Nobody wars here."

"I still do not see why it has to be as you have made it."

"Vladimir, people have to break from the old ideas if they want to move ahead."

Vladimir's face twisted in a grimace, mirroring the conflict inside of him. Something told him that Alex offered a horrible, manipulated future for humankind. But his vision of peace, the comforts achieved by the Ark, were irresistable. Vladimir saw himself dressed in the blue uniform of the Ark and he felt faceless, imagining that wearing the uniform necessitated a loss of identity. His eyes closed tightly. He had forgotten that the man who challenged him to accept this new version of society stood only a few feet away.

"I understand," Alex said softly.

"How can you understand me? You're living up here, isolated from the rest of the world. Why is this real? Why is this the future? Men continue to live and die on earth and you're up here making hors d'oeuvres out of piss water. You can read my mind, but I think you cannot see my heart."

"Vladimir, on Earth, men continue to live out lives directed to them by governments who read their minds, but they don't have to do it with ESP. Governments know what men want: a job, food, a good time every few days. So they give it to them. What the governments ignore is the heart. Freedom, power, the ability to be who you want to be...none of that is granted by the government."

"The Americans take over Latin America. The Russians take Eastern Europe. The Nicaraguans take up arms to install their own government and the Russians start freeing their little satellites. New governments are installed and they promise everything, but nothing ever changes. Were the Sandinistas right? Was Samoza better? It doesn't matter, because the hearts of men were still ignored. In space, we have formulated a revolution of another kind. This is political upheaval. It's the chaos of people looking for themselves in another context, of people reinventing humanity, mapping out a better future.

"On the Ark, there is a government in which everyone participates. Every person on the Ark has a chance to act as president. Every man has the right to learn any trade and practice that trade. Skills are interchangeable. Computers can help anyone learn almost anything. On Earth, no one can get enough power, it's another addiction. People can't get enough of anything and they kill one another to get more. They'll kill themselves pursuing something that will never satisfy them. Everyone on the earth might as well be numb with heroin."

"Do you really believe that?" Vladimir asked, his head resting forlornly in the cradle of his hands. The Ark's government sounded like anarchy, its social programs like a utopian impossibility. The dispensation of new products on the Ark seemed like a mockery of the former Soviet central distribution system

"The whole point of living here on the Ark is to free people from themselves," Alex insisted. Freed from addiction to sex, sleep, power, food, drugs, everything. No loneliness, no poverty. Nobody feels useless. Everyone achieves what they can."

"Do you think you have the answer for all these people?"

"If you mean 'why we're here' or something like that, I don't think there is a real answer. At any rate, we're not to the point where we can even think about addressing those issues. Aboard the Ark, people experiment with so many different philosophies, I think there's hope we'll come up with some interesting new ideas about the meaning of life, but I think it's unlikely that any one person will find one answer. If it's there to be found, our differences will help us find it."

"We have those same differences on Earth," Vladimir pointed out.

"Yes, that's true," said Alex, "But usually you end up killing each other for those differences before you can learn anything."

"Sometimes you talk about us as if you were another species, as if you were no longer men," Vladimir said, indignance rising in his voice.

"I'm sorry if I sounds that way." Alex remained unperturbed by Vladimir's anger. "But we've made so many changes in the way we live, sometimes it feels as if we've completely broken with the rest of humanity. Look at our love lives. Institutions like marriage have been completely restructured. Some people choose traditional marriage, other people make contracts, renegotiating them when they feel a need to." He asked Vladimir directly, "When you're on earth with your wife, are you always satisfied with your marriage?"

"Almost always."

"Then you are the rare exception. But even so, I don't think you're being entirely honest. You're not happy when you're up here, so far away from her. Is that the kind of life you want? Is that fulfillment?"

Vladimir began to weep, the tears showing bright tracks on his hands when he wiped his face. He missed his wife. He missed his children. He missed Russia. Alex took Vladimir's hands in his own, knowing that his utopia would never be able to replace Earth for a man like Vladimir, a man strong enough to be honest with himself. He tried to raise his friend's spirits.

"Let's turn away from all this talk," said Alex definitively. He placed his arm around Vladimir's shoulders. "I'm not trying to convert you. All I want you to do is understand what it is we're doing here. If you can't help me try and take the next step that's up to you. If you can't, I understand. But I have to tell you, I have intelligence reports that indicate a great international conflict is likely to occur within the next two weeks. I need your help, if you'll offer it, to keep a lid on things."

"So," Vladimir replied with thinly veiled resentment, "You play God with the world, too."

Alex replied in an unusually jaded tone, "When I have to, I do what I can to insure the stability of our lives aboard the Ark. Until we are completely self-sufficient, it is imperative that Earth's governments maintain some semblance of peace."

"Is the Ark all you care about?"

"Of course not. I thought you knew that. I want us to work to avoid disaster for the people left down there. And I'm making our position perfectly clear. We are neutral, but we're not going to allow anyone to jeopardize our autonomy. I am sending a mandate to all Earth nations, telling each government that we won't tolerate an communications satellites to be tampered with -- no matter what country they belong to -- nor will we allow any magnetic impulse systems to interrupt our transmissions. Computer links and all electronic communications must remain operational at all times."

"Why all of this focus on the communications systems. They don't have anything to do with the Ark. Nobody's going to allow you to declare every satellite system off limits."

"First of all, my friend, the satellites are the only systems we can adequately protect from our orbit. If international tensions rise, they must be viable to allow for diplomatic communiques to be transmitted. I believe that the events likely to transpire will be of such a nature that a nuclear war may be initiated if the superpowers do not understand what is happening."

Alex leveled his gaze at Vladimir, noting the attention he paid to every word being said. Alex could tell the Russian still struggled with the Ark's program, but he knew he could count on him to work diligently to forward the cause of peace.

"The bottom line, Vladimir, is that it is up to those of us in space to save those on earth, and that means we must consider ourselves allies. We have the means to force that alliance if the need arises, but I would prefer to have your cooperation. We will be working with you and your people as well as the American station. But Russian involvement is crucial to us, even more so than American aid."

"You want us to work with the Americans?" Vladimir was incredulous.

"If there is a war, the Ark will remain neutral, and we expect both the Russian and American space stations to do the same, no matter what happens on the ground. The war must not take place in space."

"Is it possible to control our government's commands?"

"Your government will not risk destruction of such valuable assets. They know we have the means to do it."

Vladimir was startled by this revelation. "I didn't realize the Ark was authorized to carry weapons."

"Of course we are not authorized to carry weapons, but our offensive strategies don't involve conventional weapons. This will be a war fought with technology, with computers. I think even your limited time aboard the Ark should have shown you what we might be capable of. You'll be here for a while. Take a look around. Tell your superiors that we aren't to be trifled with. By placing the comm satellites under our protection, we ensure that no one can interfere with us. Our defensive, neutral position allows us liberal scope to take intercessionary action in order to protect ourselves."

"Alex, I told you I will help you, and I will live up to my word. I do not know how you intend to use my work to avert this disaster you think is going to occur, but I will do what you ask."

Alex threw his arms Vladimir, hugging him. "We are brothers, you and I. Occasionally, I think there is a destiny that calls us to act in a certain way, and I feel certain our meeting was not a coincidence. I propose that we now put all of this behind us. The next few days will be very busy and we should enjoy ourselves while we can." Alex removed another flask of vodka from the cabinet.

"A Russian knows when to talk and when to drink, my friend," exclaimed Vladimir. The two men laughed together, their common goal and time spent together a strong bond between them. They would continue talking and drinking for several more hours.

---

Catalogue Information

---