The Orthogonal Galaxy
Chapter 22

The two prisoners sat quietly in their cell. Paol Joonter was writing a letter in responseto the one he had received from his family. Every Tuesday, Paol anticipated that weekly letter. It was his only link to the family. After reading the letter three times andmemorizing every detail of the picture of his children, who appeared to be enjoyingthemselves at the Seattle Mariners baseball game, Paol sat down on his chairand began to write his weekly response on his clipboard.

Three feet away, he could hear the occasionaldeep and raspy breath of his cellmate, Blade Slater, who was enveloped in hisreading “All Quiet on the Western Front.” An occasional muffled vocalization was heard in response to Blade’sreading, followed by the soft sound of the pages turning. Echoes of other prisoner interactions couldbe heard through the halls of the cell block.

Only Paol noticed any of the noises, as Blade wasconsumed by his book. For that reason,Paol’s head was the only one to raise from his letter writing as he heard thegrowing thump of footsteps approaching from down the hall. A guard emerged in view and approached thecell.

“Joonter!” the guard barked into the cellneedlessly, considering that the two had already made eye contact. Unlocking the cell with his laser key, theguard announced one last word “Visitor.”

At this, Blade’s focus returned to the presentwith a nearly imperceptible raise of his eyebrows. Without lifting his eyes from his book, Bladecongratulated his partner for his break in the doldrums of the regular routineand bid him farewell for the moment.

Paol quietly followed the guard, remaining tenfeet behind as required by security regulations. Prisoners cooed and jeered at Paol as hewalked by, voicing resentment through phrases too indecent for print. Paol ignored it all, fixing his gaze to theback of the guard leading him to the visitation room, a small five-foot squarebox of concrete with aged fluorescent lighting. A 12-inch thick glass separated him from his lawyer, Warron Zimmer.

Paol was always encouraged by these visits, sincehe remained hopeful that Zimmer would bring some significant news in his paroleprocess, but generally, all updates were less than encouraging. The process was moving forward, at a typicaljudicial pace, but Zimmer was still seeking a significant piece of the puzzlethat would help accelerate the process. After months in prison, Paol was growing frustrated and hopeless.

After briefing his client on the current status,Paol could tell that there was no reason to get his hopes up during this visiteither. After a typical exchange whereWarron gave Paol details, and Paol gave Warron his appreciation, Paol feltsomething a little different in the countenance of his lawyer during a pause inthe conversation.

“Paol,” began Zimmer, not knowing exactly how tobegin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you that my brotheris Carlton Zimmer, the astrophysicist.”

“No, I don’t remember ever hearing that. I read in the news that he has been involvedin some pretty amazing discoveries this year.”

“He is working presently on a mission to Earth2.”

“Yeah that sounds quite wild.”

“Actually, everything is proceeding quite nicely,as far as the mission is concerned, but there is one snag that is jeopardizinghis efforts of ever getting to explore this new Earth.”

“What’s that?”

“Nobody seems willing to accept the mission.”

“I thought NASA was stacked with astronauts andcandidates ambitious to become astronauts.”

“Well, I think the Mars scare has been effectiveat keeping astronauts on pins and needles, and frankly, every astronaut—as Iunderstand it from my brother—feels that the mission is simply suicidal. They see too many unknowns that could easilygo wrong, and the commitment is large. It will be 13 years before the astronauts return. So there they are. NASA needs a pair of astronauts for the mostexciting mission in the history of our planet, and they can’t even replace one.”

Paol gave a low whistle. “I guess I hadn’t been following closelyenough to realize the specifics. That isa long time.”

Sitting forward in his seat, Warron spokeintently. “I’d like to make asuggestion, Paol.”

Paol’s face contorted, not knowing where this wasgoing. He indicated to his lawyer toproceed with the suggestion.

“NASA is very eager to replace individuals tofulfill this mission. The UnitedStates—heck, the world—is very eager. Icould get you out of here, Paol, if you would accept to do this.”

Paol blinked rapidly and cocked his head to theleft. Measuring his response, he continued,“I’m not sure if I understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that I think it would be in your bestinterest to trade in your orange jumpsuit for a blue spacesuit, Paol. Serve your country on this mission, and whenyou return, I can practically promise that you’d be pardoned by thepresident. Besides, by the time youreturn, I’m almost certain to have cracked this case open.”

“Warron,” Joonter spoke with completesurprise. “You just told me that themission is suicidal. If I wait here, Imight be able to see my family again someday.”

“No,” Zimmer shook his head. “I didn’t say it was suicidal… it’s the pressand the astronauts who say it is suicidal. My brother thinks there is actually a good chance for success.”

“So, I put my life in the hands of one person,who is certainly biased towards making this attempt.”

“Paol, I would trust my brother with mylife. I have talked to him at lengthabout this, and I believe him—the mission can succeed.”

“Why should I believe him?”

“That’s what everyone said when he was lookingfor his parallel Earth. It’s what theysaid when he first discovered an object faster than the speed of light. Nobody believed him—but they were forced toin the end. Look, I’m not going topressure you into this, but I think it would be an incredible opportunity to dosomething with your time instead of sitting in this cell. I might get you back to your family withinthe next couple of years instead of taking 13, but that all depends on if I canreplace the smoking gun that lands the right person in your place.”

Warron Zimmer stopped there, as he realized thatPaol was enveloped in a flurry of thought. Weighing the options, his mind raced. He envisioned the scenarios—perhaps he would spend many long years in aprison cell, or maybe he would be returned to his family sooner than expected,or maybe he should invest the 13-year side trip to regain his life on his ownterms, once and for all.

“I’ll do it.”

Zimmer was dumbstruck. “Don’t you want time to think about it?”

“Warron, I didn’t get to where I am—” he stoppedto look around. “—Or I should say, whereI was—without waiting long enough for someone else to take the opportunitiesaway from me. In business, I alwaysacted fast, trusted my instincts, and more often than not, they served mewell. My heart tells me that the worldneeds to know about this other place, so why should I sit here doing nothing,when I have the opportunity to do something more—much more.”

“But there are no guarantees. You may not come back.”

“Are you changing your mind on this, Warron? I thought you trusted your brother with yourlife. Besides you didn’t ask me just forkicks. You thought that it might justmake sense.”

Warron smiled.

“So, I’ll do it, but under one condition.”

The smile was erased. “What condition?”

“I get to bring my cellmate with me.”

“What?” Warron asked in amazement. “Youwant to bring a hardened criminal in a maximum security prison on the mostdangerous undertaking of your life?”

“Well, you just asked one person in that categoryto do this? Why do you think there areno others in here that could do the job? He is one of the most gifted people I’ve met—a real self-taught geniuswho has read up on every subject imaginable in the seven years he’s beenhere. Besides his intuition and quickthinking has preserved his and myhealth in this hell hole. And he hassomething in common with your brother. ”

“What’s that?” Warron asked excitedly.

“I wouldtrust him with my life.”

…

Blade Slater could detect an expression ofbewilderment on the face of his fellow inmate when he returned. Barely looking up from his book, he inquired,“Good news, I hope.”

“Well, I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

In curiosity, Blade closed his book, set it onhis cot, took in a deep breath and gave his cellmate his full attention. “Well, go on, then.”

“You remember that planet that was discoveredseveral months ago?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Turns out my lawyer is the brother of theastronomer who discovered it. NASA isworking on a mission to fly there, but they are having a hard time rounding upastronauts.”

“And how ‘xactly do they plan on flyin’ to adistant planet. Why… that’d take fo’everto get there!”

“They’re going to hitch a ride on the comet thatwas discovered in conjunction with Earth2.”

Blade looked skeptical but waved on his partner.

“Well, they can’t replace astronauts to do the job.”

“Mmm…” came the confused grunt of Blade. He was trying to figure out where this wasall going.

“My lawyer suggested that I should take up NASA,and that way whether he is able to clear my name or not, by the time I return,I’d get a nice presidential pardon, admiration of the whole world, and an entryin history books fer ages to come.”

“How long’s the mission?” Slater inquired.

“Well, there would be training for about fiveyears.”

“That’s some time!” Paol’s cellmate interrupted

“And then it would take a year to get to theplanet, six and a half years there, and another five years to get back home.”

Blade easily and quickly worked the numbers inhis head. “Why that’s twen’y years fromnow. No wonder they can’t staff thatjob. Such a foo’hearty thing to eventhink ‘bout it. And I s’pose ya’ donetold him you’d think ‘bout it.” Blade shook his head and managed a heartylaugh.

“Not exactly—I told him I’d bring you with me.”

Blade’s laugh and smile vanished as quickly asthe understanding registered. Growingdisinterested in the conversation, he picked up a book, and said, “What was ya’thinkin’? I ain’t doin’ somethin’ sofoolish as that!”

Paol pulled his chair around in front of Blade’sand sat down to face him. “Look,Blade—this is an opportunity to do something no other man has done before. And you’ll get out of here as well.”

“Now, why would I wanna go off fo’ twen’y years,when I’ll be sprung from here in abouts five? It’s darn foolish, Paol.”

“So tell me, what do you think is going to happenwhen you do leave anyway?”

“Well, I’ll make me a respectable citizen. You know that!”

“How?”

“Get me a job… have a family hopefully.”

“Blade, you have no education, and you’re aconvicted felon. Who will hire you?”

“I’m educated—You know that.”

“I do—but they don’t. There’s no formal education to back youup.” Paol’s tone grew more serious, moreimportant. “Look, Blade, think aboutwhat you’ll do for mankind—for the knowledge of science. Think of how much you’ll learn becoming anastronaut. That’s something you won’tlearn by reading all of the books in the Library of Congress.”

“Paol, listen to ya’self. You got a family. Ya’ just can’t go off and leave ‘em fo’twen’y years.”

“I could rot in here until I die, Blade. My family will be proud of mycontribution. What do you plan oncontributing before life is over, Blade?”

“Oh, I wanna contribute too, you know that. But, I think I can contribute in plenty ofother ways to please my neighbors and my God.”

“God!” Paol snickered in derision. “Iknow you’ve been studying those world religion books, but look around you,Blade! There can’t be a God.”

“I think you’re wrong. There’s a God.”

“Why would a justGod throw me in here, then?”

“I ‘spect it’s fo’ the same reason he gives allof us trials in this life of ours. Wasit just of God to put me into afamily in the ghetto, whereas some kids is put in the ‘burbs? What’s important is not that we haveadversity but how we deal with it. Wecan choose to get better or we canchoose to grow bitter.”

“So you think everything happens for a reason,huh? Everything is just as God wouldhave it?”

“No, I don’t!” answered Blade in a deepvoice. “Ever’thin’ is not as God‘d haveit. God‘d not have us abusin’ littlechildren. He’d not have us murderin’,stealin’, liein’.”

“Then why does he allow it to happen?” Paol asked incredulously.

Blade gave a deep breath, and reached under hispillow for the only book that he didn’t keep under his bed, but instead on topof it. It had a worn black cover, andthin, embossed sheets, which crinkled as he opened it to the place hedesired. Reading from the page, he spokein a confident tone:

See, Ihave set before thee this day life and good, and death and evil;

In thatI command thee this day to love the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, and tokeep his commandments and his statutes and his judgments that thou mayest liveand multiply: and the Lord thy God shall bless thee in the land whither thougoest to possess it.

But ifthine heart turn away, so that thou wilt not hear, but shalt be drawn away, andworship other gods, and serve them;

I denounce unto you this day that ye shallsurely perish, and that ye shall not prolong your days upon the land.

“It seems, Paol, God wants us to choose ferourselves. It’s a test, Paol—to see whois worthy to live in His presence. He’ssgiven us commandments, and we just needs to choose. Look, I don’t know all the answers. That’s why I still read. But, what propels us as a race to survive, tothrive, to go fo’ward, if there’s no purpose to life? And how could there be purpose in life if there’s no purpose in death. Without somethin’ more, why do we do so much? As a race, we’ve had plenty a’challenges—plenty a’ opportunities to just lay down and give it up. But we’ve never done that. Why not? I think it’s because there’s somethin’ inside us—a God-made spirit—thatdrives us.”

Paol thought for a moment, desiring to steer theconversation back on track. “If there issuch a grand purpose, Blade, then think of what this mission could add to ourknowledge of that purpose? Will we replaceanother God-fearing people on Earth2? Will we understand better this universe really is made by intelligentdesign?”

Blade’s head stared at the concrete floor, hisbody expressionless.

“Blade, you told me that you wanted to make upfor past mistakes—that you wanted to be a productive citizen of your countryand community. What better opportunitythan this mission? Think of how proudyou’ll make your mother and your uncle!”

Invoking thoughts of his family, Blade repliedwith a choke in his voice, “If this could erase even a little bit a’ the hurt Igave ‘em, then it’ll be worth it. But,if I dies, then it would only make the hurt worse.”

“I’m not so sure,” Paol rebutted. “They would think of you as a hero. Even that legacy will erase the pain.”

Blade stood from his chair and slowly walked tothe bars which held him back from the things he was eager to start doing inlife. Paol remained seated, but his gazewas fixed on his cellmate with great interest. After staring off into the distance for a couple of minutes, he turnedto face Paol. His look was stern, theeyes intent. Realizing he had noresponse to Paol’s last argument, he had to respond, “I’ll do it.”