The Orthogonal Galaxy
Chapter 26

The sky to the east turned to a milky blue,forecasting another arrival of the Sun. Despite a few wispy clouds that began to glow on the horizon, theFlorida morning was crystal clear, and dead still. The weather was fitting to the mood of thosewho awoke early to witness history. Asthe wind held its breath, so did the thousands of spectators gathered atvarious locations around Kennedy Air Force Base. In the center of this group of people,several strong search lights flashed up from the launch pad onto the star ofthe show.

The Star Transport interstellar vehicle stooderect on the launch pad high above the ground. It was supported by three large fuel-bearing silo rockets. Each white silo was attached to thespacecraft with large bands, one under each wing, and another under thebody. While Star Transport would nothave the luxury of being launched into space in this manner from Earth2, theStar Energy team took advantage of this launch to minimize the consumption ofthe fuel that would be required for the trip home.

The Star Transport, at the center of everyone’sattention, had been considered by many an uninspiring work. As black as the depth of space it wouldtraverse, it was designed to absorb every scrap of energy as it hurled throughthe darkest reaches of the cosmos. Itspropulsion system was a combination of nuclear and exotic fuels, but all otherelectronics—including lights, computerized equipment, navigation panels, andcommunications devices were powered purely on electromagnetic collection panelsthat made up the entire body of the craft. The collectors were designed to suck in all of the solar and cosmicenergy in the vicinity of the craft, much like a vacuum cleaner. For this reason, the body had no shine orluster. In fact, it largely resembled alump of coal, and wouldn’t have been mistaken for the star of the show, had itnot been for the staring crowds and the flood of blue lights, mixed with thewhite flashes of camera equipment.

The body was entirely seamless, except for anearly invisible door in the back of the craft. There were no stark edges or lines to be seen anywhere. The final design of the Star Shield was athin, transparent, but practically impenetrable compound which was sprayed ontothe craft with precision jet spray robots. Once cured under extremely high temperatures, it was as smooth as glass,and harder than anything known to man. Also lacking were windows of any kind. The two-man crew would instead rely on a series of image sensorssurrounding the aircraft to provide visual details of their environment.

The fuselage had the appearance of a shark,consisting of concentric ellipses that grew towards the center of the body andtapered off slightly at the back. Thenose was tilted downward very slightly into a curved point designed to deflectdebris away from the vehicle. Directimpacts with the nose were calculated to be about five particles perbillion. In preparation for even thismost unlikely scenario, the shield was sprayed on to a greater thickness offive inches at the nose, whereas the rest of the body was given two to threeinches of protective coating. This blackresembled that of a clown’s nose on the front of the vehicle.

Working back from the flight deck, the wingsgradually tapered off of the fuselage. It was clear that the entire body was molded as one piece. No bolts or rivets anywhere. Gradual curves leaving the elliptical sides ofthe fuselage formed thinly flattened airfoils to create the wings. In the back, the tail stabilizer curved awayfrom the fuselage gradually. This wasthe image for thousands of onlookers and millions stationed at televisionmonitors around the world as the sun broke the horizon far across the AtlanticOcean. Broadcasters added to the dramawith lavish countdown ceremonies, colorful commentaries and exclusive pre-tapedinterviews with the astronauts and engineers behind the ST3 mission. Having tested the Star Transport during acouple of rigorous test flights—first around the moon, and then the sun—thiswas the third such launch in the history of the spacecraft. But, of course, this was the mission forwhich NASA was grooming the Star Transport all along. And while the ST1 and ST2 missions certainlydrew the attention of many, this is the one that had the world enraptured. This is the one where suddenly-famousastronauts Paol Joonter and Blade Slater would say farewell to loved ones andthe inhabitants of Earth1 for more than a decade.

The family of Joonter, as well as Slater’s uncleand mother sat front and center in the VIP stands just above the astronautpreparation facility. Wide-eyedspectators waited anxiously for the emergence of their beloved astronauts. Joram, Kath, and Reyd joined Professor Zimmeron the left-hand side of the stand, and watched as the scene unfolded downbelow.

Launch specialists zoomed about every directionwhether in car or on foot. Some hurriedabout, while others barely moved. Security forces held back crowds, which were cordoned off from access tothe tarmac, and all were clamoring for a view of the scene.

At long last, two large doors to the buildingslid open, as a procession of specialists filed out double-file. Camera flashes further lightened the dawn asJoonter and Slater quickly came to view, attired in deep blue spacesuits andbeaming smiles. Each looked up to theVIP room, waved, winked, and blew kisses to their loved ones. Spontaneous applause erupted, and even thedriest of eyes were threatened with emotion. Shouts of “I love you”, “Good luck”, and “Godspeed” could barely beheard through the din.

After a brief pause, the procession continuedtowards the launch pad, where an elevator whisked the two heroes along with apair of attendants towards a platform just below the rear of the StarTransport. As the bay door opened, theattendants unrolled a ladder from a spool on the platform up into the bay ofthe spaceship. Within a minute theladder stopped, and the attendants returned to the side of the astronauts. Joonter turned to look over the platform,gave a brisk wave with his right hand, and blew one last kiss with hisleft. In an instant, he climbed out ofsight, into the belly of the vehicle.

An attendant scaled the ladder behind him. Because the Star Transport was placedupright, getting strapped into the cockpit seats was nearly impossible withoutassistance. The attendant harnessed Paolinto his seat while the astronaut held on to a bar on either side of the seatto keep from sliding out. The attendantagain emerged on the platform, but quickly disappeared inside the craft againwith Paol’s blue space helmet in hand.

Once Paol’s assistant emerged from Star Transporta second time, this same sequence continued for Blade, but not before he couldgive his final farewell to the crowds with a full-tooth smile and two thumbsup. Cameras zoomed tightly into hisradiant face, giving field correspondents plenty of material to work with,touting the efforts of the heroes during training, invoking the encouragingexample of Slater’s life in overcoming challenges, and praising NASA for theirvisionary efforts.

Once both astronauts were secured, the attendantsleft the platform, and gave a signal towards the mission control tower. They quickly rolled the ladder back onto itsspool and confirmed the complete sealing of the door.

Blade’s head turned slowly to his comrade. Noticing the movement out of the corner ofhis eye, Paol turned to see a very anxious and wide-eyed expression on Blade’sface.

“What’s the matter, Blade?”

“I’s just wonderin’ what we got ourselves into here,Partna’. Why this is some fool dumbthing we’re doin’, ain’t it?”

“Now, Blade—” said Paol softly. “You aren’t getting cold feet now are you?”

“No, they’ve been cold ‘bout five years now. I’m just now recognizin’ it.”

“Blade, what better thing could you be doing withyour life right now?”

“Anythin’ better than committin’ suicide quicklycomes to mind.”

Paol grew agitated and surprised by this comment,and scolded his fellow astronaut. “Blade! You were the one whoconvinced me that this mission has a perfectly fine chance of succeeding. Why are you second guessing that now?”

“C’mon, buddy,” said Blade. “Ya’ can’t nohow tell me that ya’ don’t oftenthink ‘bout the fact that we know so little ‘bout what we’re gettin’ into. I mean, nobody—nobody!—really knows anythin’‘bout this ride we’re gonna hitchhike on. Look, we have no clue ‘bout the real effects super-warp travel is gonnado on a livin’ bein’. And, we don’t knownothin’ ‘bout Earth2 that ain’t more than twenty-seven thousand years old. Fo’ all we know, evolution has advanced tothe point that we’re gonna have to run from dinosaurs or cannibals fo’ fiveyears, waitin’ fer our bus to return.”

“Dinosaurs and cannibals?” Blade askedcuriously. “Is that the worst you canthink of? Why I’m far more concernedabout lawyers and politicians.”

“Say wha—” Blade looked at Paol’s half-hidden smile and realized a bit later thanhe should have that he was being joked with. Blade responded with grateful laughter that helped to strengthen hisresolve.

Just then, a voice from mission control was heardcoming from no particular location in the cockpit. In fact, it sounded as if the noise wasformed inside the ear. “Star TransportPilot, all systems are a go for take-off in T minus 2 minutes.”

“Copy that, Ground Control,” replied Paol.

The voice continued, “Please provide cross-checkof onboard systems, ST3.”

Paol quickly worked through a checklist ofsystems.

“Avionics: check.”

“Communication: check.”

“Computation: check…”

When Paol had completed his checklist, Bladeraced through a list he had also been working on.

“Propulsion: check.”

“Navigation check.”

“A/V check...”

“Mission ST3, it appears that all systems arecheck, and launch will commence in T minus seventy seconds.” Then in a less robotic manner, the voiceasked. “Star Transport, is thereanything you’d like to tell the inhabitants of Earth1?”

Paol took a quick breath and replied, “To thecitizens of the world, we thank you for the opportunity, and can’t wait toreturn with the knowledge you wish to gain from this expedition. To our families, we love you and hope theyears will pass as quickly for you as the distance will for us.”

And then, a final word from Mission Controlbefore the final countdown. “Godspeed,ST3.”

Anticipation grew with each second thatpassed. “T minus fifteen, fourteen… Tminus ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three…”

In a sudden blast, rockets roared to life andexploded into a fireball that lit up the Florida morning even more effectivelythan the low-lying Sun. Spectatorsstruggled to determine whether they should shield their eyes or cover theirears. The vehicle lifted gently off theground, cleared the launch pad, and then quickly shot the Star Transport intothe atmosphere. The roaring of therockets gradually subsided giving way to the cheers of the crowd. All were applauding, yelling, and whistlingenthusiastically as their beloved astronauts approached the upper reaches ofthe atmosphere.

Paol and Blade sat silent in the darkness of thecockpit, enveloped in the discomfort of rapid acceleration and intensevibration. They had experienced thismultiple times in the simulator, but this time it was real, and that knowledgemultiplied the difficulty of the situation, not to mention the churning oftheir stomachs.

Medical personnel watched abnormal vital signs inboth astronauts with guarded concern. While nothing they saw was unexpected, they also knew that the elevatedheart-rate, body temperature, and rapid breathing were not desired.

A sudden jolt shook both astronauts in a tense,yet anticipated moment. Through thedarkness of the flight deck, the astronauts knew that this was the moment ofseparation. The two wing-mounted silorocket boosters separated from the Star Transport, and the high-tension strapswhipped rapidly away from the body. Theastronauts braced for one final jolt, when the third silo was to bereleased. In an instant, the vehiclelunged upwards, while nauseated stomachs lurched in the opposite direction. Blade closed his eyes while Paol inhaleddeeply.

At long last, the astronauts exited theatmosphere and the ride became more smooth and comfortable. Slowly, as the astronauts realized that theworst was behind them, vital signs began to stabilize—for both the astronauts,and mission control personnel.

“Piece of cake, huh partner?” Paol reached overand slapped his navigator in the arm.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see what super-warp’sgonna feel like.” Blade shook his headslowly.

A voice from the planet they just departedsounded in the cockpit. “Star TransportPilot, please provide physical check.”

Paol replied “Pilot reports no major physicalproblems—a slight nausea. That’sall. Over.”

“Star Transport Navigator?”

“Is my head s’pposed to feel this way? Sheesh!”

After a brief pause, a voice continued,“Navigator, medical staff reports some head stress reported in your vitals, butnothing out of the ordinary… so, yeah… it should feel that way for awhile. Guys, I regret that we don’t haveany beverage service on this flight, but we do have some in-flightentertainment.”

With that, the light began to grow throughout thecockpit. The flight deck transformedinto a virtual planetarium. The domeshaped roof shone with stars, and the bright curved outline of the blue andwhite Earth dominated the left side of the display. Drawn to the light, both astronauts turnedtheir heads to the left and gawked at the display.

“Wow,” was the response from a wide-eyed Slater,whose word was more breathed than it was audible.

Paol turned his head back to the right to see hisnavigator’s face full of stunned expression. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it, buddy?”

“Ground control, thank ya’ fo’ the show,” Bladeexpressed, as he looked back to his left. “These views are simply amazin’… it’s just like lookin’ out a realwindow.”

When systems engineers considered the body ofStar Transport, they knew that the astronauts would need an unprecedented viewof their surroundings for proper flight and navigation, but they also wantedevery square inch for the collector panels to ensure a sufficient supply ofenergy for the entire trip. The solutionwas to place miniature high-resolution cameras around the fuselage to provide afull panoramic three-dimensional image.

This seemed like a great idea, except that earlydemonstrations proved that the quality of the video wasn’t realisticenough. Psychologists noted thatsimulated scenarios with video-game quality proved that participants would beemboldened to take unnecessary risks. With improved video quality, responses were morescenario-appropriate. As a result,engineers pushed themselves in the design of the video until they obtained nearperfection in image quality. In anexperiment, less than one out of a thousand could discern the differencebetween a real image seen through the window and a projected digital scenethrough the high-quality display.

Time stood still as the astronauts enjoyed thequiet and stillness of space as Earth floated quietly below them. The tranquility of the view was in starkcontrast to the turbulence of life down below: people scurrying in alldifferent directions, horns blaring in morning rush hour traffic, sirensattending to emergencies of all kinds, gunfire in war-ravaged countries. It didn’t seem possible that the still blueof the ocean, the silky white of the clouds, the extensive sands of thedeserts, nor the deep green of the forests could ever have induced such chaos.

Within minutes the Earth faded behind them, inspite of their necks craning to catch as much of the show as possible. Eventually, the duo had to concede that theirhome was gone—for more than twelve years. While hearts hung heavy, they knew that the best thing they could do wasto just look forward—and that’s exactly what they did, for their first task layexactly straight ahead of them in full view.

…

“It’s so big,” Paol gasped.

“Sure is, Buddy,” the navigator agreed with ahuge grin.

“It’s just that—you know—you see this thing inthe sky night after night, and you just don’t realize how big it is. It’s—well—I can’t even comprehend itssize. Just look at that crater there,for example. How big do you think thatthing is? I’m guessing I could get lostin that thing.”

“You mean that one there with all them rayscomin’ out of it?” Blade indicated withhis finger straight out from his arm and one eye shut to focus in on the objectin question.

“Yeah.”

“Why that there is the Copernicus Crater. A couple of those early Apollo missionslanded jus’ south of there. That’s onenasty impact there, to be sure.”

“Why do you say that?” Paol looked over at his navigator

“Well that hole’s ‘bout 50 miles wide, and—”Blade paused for effect, sensing the eager stare of his partner. “—and over two miles deep! Good luck climbin’ outta that hole, if ya’ever fall in.”

Blade turned and looked at Paol. “See those white rays comin’ outta thecrater? They’re ‘bout five hundred milesin every direction. How hard must twothings hit each other to send dirt and rocks flyin’ that far?”

Paol pursed his lips and let out a lowwhistle. “I’m trying to imagine the viewfrom the rim of a crater that is two miles deep.”

“Well, don’t try,” Blade shrugged. “There’s nothin’ like it on Earth. Even if you’re standin’ atop Everest, thebase of the mountain is only ‘bout two miles below. Even then, ya’ wouldn’t get an idea ‘boutwhat a two-mile deep hole looks like ‘gainst the flat land you’re standin’ on.”

Silence ensued in the cockpit as Star Transportraced towards the moon, on an apparent crash course. Eventually, the vehicle steered away to makeits way around to the other side, where the astronauts would rendezvous withone final fuel stop. A moon orbiter witha trio of astronauts awaited the arrival of Joonter and Slater to top them offand give them that extra burst to speed them on their way towards Jupiter,which was projected as the closest spot to catch the super-luminal comet as itpassed through the solar system again.

“Moon Orbiter, this is ST3,” announced Paol. “Do you copy?”

“Loud and clear, ST3. What is your ETA?”

“We are currently at an orbital distance of 175miles, and are anticipating arrival to your orbit in about 27 minutes.”

“We look forward to seeing you, ST3. Over.”

Blade scrutinized the navigational display forany deviance in calculated trajectories, or orbital velocities for either theStar Transport or the Moon Orbiter, but this was a mere formality, as thecomputers controlled everything exactly according to plan.

While Blade monitored the computer displays, Paolmaintained a constant vigil on their surroundings to make sure that nothingorbiting the moon might cross their path. Ever since NASA constructed the first astronaut base on the moon, theamount of space debris jettisoned by spacecraft, satellites, and rocket shipshad increased greatly, and there were a couple of different orbits which posedgreater hazards. Having pastuneventfully through both, Paol turned his attention to picking up a visual onthe moon orbiter. He strained to see,but with the sea of bright stars, it was difficult to catch a glimpse of thefuel orbiter, and the angle of light from the sun did not help his cause.

“Blade!” Paol announced abruptly. “There she is. At two o-clock with an angle of declinationabout five percent.”

“How’d ya’ spot her? Against the backdrop of the moon, she’s sosmall.”

“I finally spotted movement with respect to thestars just above the horizon of the moon. Anyway, I think we’re in perfect position, aren’t we?”

“Yes, sir… I’ll radio ahead.” Blade switched onhis radio. “Moon Orbiter, this is StarTransport Navigator. We have a positivevisual ID, and are closin’ in.”

“ST3, we see you as well, and are ready forrendezvous.”

The vehicles closed in slowly. Paol took over manual control, in order toease the Star Transport just over the top of the orbiter, passing within just afew feet of each other. As the orbiterpassed below, and out of sight, his heart started racing. To know that he was so dangerously close toanother spaceship, and that both were racing at tens of thousands of miles perhour. The smallest mistake could meandisaster.

“ST3, we see you overhead, and are taking overthe negotiation.”

“Roger, Orbiter.” Paol breathed a deep sigh of relief to know that the pilot below him wasnow in control of nudging the two vehicles together.

Silence ensued for a couple of minutes before asound of a thump caused Paol and Blade to lurch forward. Wide-eyed, the two looked behind them and sawa round portal open on the rear bay door. The round face of an astronaut, with a large tuft of blonde hairfloating above his head emerged in the hole with a beaming smile.

“Star Transport. Permission to board your vessel?”

“O’Ryan!” exclaimed Blade with a mile-widesmile. He would’ve bounded towards thevisitor to greet him warmly, but he was still becoming accustomed toweightlessness, in spite of all the zero-G training on Earth. Further, Star Transport was very short fromfloor to ceiling, so the astronauts had to move around a very confinedspace. Garrison O’Ryan, on the otherhand, floated swiftly and effortlessly through the cabin to greet the ST3companions.

“Why—the last time we met, I thought you’s allagainst gettin’ back up in space,” Blade stated as he took a firm grasp of thevisitor’s hand.

“Me too, Blade—me too. I fully expected never to come back up hereafter the incident on Camp Mars. I stillshiver to recall the destruction and the weeks of waiting and wondering.”

“What made you get back in the saddle, Garrison?”Paol now joined in the exchange.

With pride, O’Ryan answered, “You two!”

Paol and Blade looked at each other, confused bythis answer.

“Like the rest of the world, I’ve been watchingthis whole mission unfold. I’ve read theinterviews in the magazine, listened to the press conference updates, and Irealized that if you guys could have the courage to travel tens of thousands oflight years, the least I could do would be to travel the a few light seconds tohelp top off your fuel tank before making the long voyage.”

“Well, we appreciate ya’ makin’ the trip just ferus, Garrison,” said Blade gratefully.

Paol continued to catch up with their astronautfriend, “How’s the family, Garrison.”

“Great, thanks—everyone is just great. Had you heard about the baby?”

“Yes, we did—we also heard that Timmer wasn’texactly thrilled.”

“Funny—when he first found out that he was goingto have a little sister, he was quite agitated. ‘Send her back!’ he demanded. Butnow, he seems to enjoy playing the role of big brother. He loves helping her with her bottle, but hestill thinks diapers are icky”.

“Well, they is icky,” Blade agreed with a comicalshudder and contorted face, to which the group laughed readily.

“So how are you guys feeling anyway?” Garrisonasked with genuine interest in his pair of comrades with whom he had spent morethan a few hours in training.

“We’re doing well,” Paol spoke for both. “Leaving Earth was a bit of a tryingexperience. But the headaches are gone,and the stomachs as good as ever—except for the want of something a little moresolid in them. As we adjust toweightlessness, NASA is keeping our diets fairly soft.”

O’Ryan shook his head, and asked again. “No, I mean how are you feeling?” He hung on thelast word for a moment to help clarify its meaning.

“Ah—you mean emotionally,” Paol looked at Bladeand a brief silence ensued.

After a deep sigh, Blade commenced. “We ain’t gonna kid you, Garrison—it ain’teasy comin’ to realize you’re leavin’ everythin’ behind fo’ more and a dozenyears—” He swallowed hard. “—Or worse.” His voice trailed off.

Paol stepped up to complete his partner’s trainof thoughts. “We really have no clue ifwe’ll make it back, right? You gothrough every imaginable horrible scenario. I didn’t see Camp Mars first hand, but I saw plenty of pictures. The thing that annihilated your home upthere—well, that’s the thing we’re hitching a ride on, right? You can’t replace a wind tunnel in the SolarSystem that can shake this tin can up enough to know that it will hold up inthe barrage of particles traveling at twenty five thousand times the speed oflight. Then, how many hostile settingscan you think of for this planet that we haven’t the foggiest notionabout. But you know what’s worse thanthinking about all of that, Garrison?”

Garrison shook his head silently.

“What’s worse is thinking about it over and overfor the next twenty-seven thousand light years of travel.”

“But it’s supposed to go in a blink of an eye,”said Garrison in amazement. “As far as Iunderstand what the physicists are saying, you guys are going to sleep throughmost of it.”

“Really, Garrison?” Paol’s eyes narrowed as he probed theastronaut’s expression for any clues to help him discern his thoughts. “Why, then, did every astronaut—includingyourself—refuse the opportunity to come on this mission?”

O’Ryan was not prepared for this loadedquestion. He stammered through someunconvincing vocalized pauses, and weakly mumbled words like “family”, and“Mars.” After collecting himself, headmitted. “Guys, I know—this isn’tanywhere close to a slam dunk, and I thought through many of the same issues,but even if I did want to go, I was still traumatized from the Marsincident. Besides, I couldn’t leave myyoung family. My son would grow upwithout his father—he would be 19 years old when I returned. My baby would be a teenager before she evenhad a chance to meet her father. Youwouldn’t go either if you were in my shoes.”

“Nope. Iwouldn’t.” A blank look of bitternessswept over Joonter’s face, and in a blink, every moment since his arrestflashed through his mind in an instant—the unjust verdict, the ridiculoussentence, the red-eyed and tear-stained face of his wife, the plane crash inNevada, his injuries in Brazil, and now this—a mission touted as a certainsuicide by many rational individuals.

A voice over the communication system interruptedhis thoughts. “ST3, this is Moon Orbiterdo you copy?”

Paol turned his head towards the cockpit, but inhis mental state, he found himself rooted to the spot. Blade grabbed hold of the side of the vessel,and spun himself around awkwardly. Making his way towards his seat, he sat down and placed a headset overhis right ear.

“This is ST3. We copy ya’.”

“Fueling is complete, and we are ready tountether, but I think you have one of our crew on board.”

“Yes we do,” Blade said. “He says it’s more cozy here, and he’s thinkin’‘bout takin’ a spin with us.”

“That’s a negative ST3,” the voice replied with achuckle. “Tell Mr. O’Ryan that he missedhis opportunity, and will have to wait for the ST4 mission now. Over.”

“Copy that, Moon Orbiter. We’ll have yer boy back with ya’ in a shortmoment. Over.” Blade slowly pulled theheadset off and placed it in its compartment next to his seat. He allowed the weightlessness to distancehimself from his seat, and turned around to the other two astronauts.

“Well, Garrison. You go have a safe ride back home. We’ll have a lot of catchin’ up to do in, say, twelve years or so.” Blade offered a firm handshake.

“Godspeed, gentlemen. I do wish you all the best.”

“Thanks, Garrison,” said Paol with a tight-lippedsmile. “Don’t worry about us. We’re going to do everything imaginable tomake this mission a success.”

O’Ryan nodded and winked at Joonter, as he backedout of the spacecraft.

“Hey, Garrison?” Paol called out as he began toshut the portal through which he had entered.

“Yeah, Paol.”

“I’d appreciate it if this exchange remains offthe record. I don’t want Joyera any moreworried than she needs to be while I’m gone.”

“Absolutely, Paol. Everything we talked about stays right hereuntil you guys open this hatch up at Kennedy.” And with a quick wave of the wrist that hatch sealed shut again, with asound that reverberated like the bars of the cell at the penitentiary.

Paol and Blade strained to hear the detachmentand departure of the Moon Orbiter, and when they were absolutely certain thatthere was no audible sign of their fuel tanker, they slowly returned to theirseats and watched the diminishing figure of the orbiter in the video monitor onthe domed ceiling. Craning their necksbackwards in their reclined seats until the dot of the spaceship was no longervisible, they realized that they had seen the last thing from their home planetfor more about a dozen long years ahead of them.

In an instinctive impulse to latch on to anythingthat would continue to connect them to their home planet, their heads turned tothe left where the miniscule blue and white Earth sat a little less than halfilluminated from the Sun. Diminished bythe immense horizon of the moon below them, it was hard to fathom how they usedto live there along with nearly ten billion other inhabitants. How utterly small and insignificant it seemedin the vast panorama of stars that filled their little planetarium. Speechless, they paid their final homage tothis place they used to call home and then mechanically set a course in theopposite direction for a destination that was indiscernible among all thethousands of stars in their view.

…

“Looks like we’re half way there, Buddy,” Bladeannounced.

“Is that so?” Paol replied lifting his eyes from the monitor where he was reading thenavigational display. The datademonstrated that Star Transport was now “204,975,___” miles from Earth and“204,974,___” miles from Jupiter. Thereason that the least significant digits were blank was simply because theywere hurtling towards Jupiter at several hundred miles every second. At these rates, the odometer changes soquickly that there is no way to perceive anything in the lower digits.

“Youknow,” began Paol. “Time seems to begoing by faster than I thought it would. I thought that sitting in the same seat hour upon hour would gettedious.”

“I thinks it helps that NASA gives us a goodschedule to follow,” surmised Blade. “The daily activities seems broken up pretty well.”

“Good point! There really is nothing on the schedule so lengthy as to make the timego slow. Between meals, exercise,scientific experiments, journals and logs, reading, and communications, the daydoes go by quite naturally.”

“I understand now why they told us how importantit is to stick to the schedule. Ourbodies are used to the night fo’ sleepin’, and the daylight fo’ bein’awake. But up here, all 24 hours areexactly the same. The body needs theschedule to keep from gettin’ into some whacky state. I was thinkin’ when I woke up this mornin’that the body would be used to, say, a 27 hour schedule if that’s how fastEarth rotated. I wonders what kind ofschedule the body would naturally fit into if there was no night or day. I could see things gettin’ totally random,and that would be unhealthy, since there’d be no regular pattern of sleep.”

This became food for thought, and both astronautswere silent in their musings on this matter, as they stared—literally—off intospace. Jupiter was a focal point of muchstaring to be sure. First, it was theirnext destination, and further, it was directly in front of them, but even morethan that, it was quickly becoming the most recognizable object in thesky. Occasionally, they would forcetheir planetarium to turn to a different location, and most often they wouldchoose to turn 180 degrees around, to watch the sun growing more dim andcold. It was shrinking and they knewthat in the coming days, Jupiter would begin to appear larger than the Sun.

A series of three soft chimes directed the astronauts’attention back to the control panel in front of them. In large letters, the display splashed thetext, “Communication from: JoyeraJoonter.” It had been eight days sincetheir departure from the Moon, and Star Transport was now far enough away fromEarth that communications between the vehicle and its home base now requiredwell over a quarter of an hour before arriving at its destination. As a result, there were no conversations perse, just messages sent back and forth at regular intervals of the day. Immediate family had a phone number theycould call to leave a recorded message. Mission control specialists would then package and send theseconversations up at regular intervals up to a few times each day. While Blade’s uncle or mother had stoppedcalling when they were unable to speak to Blade in real time, Joyera continuedto call her husband once or twice every day.

Paol eagerly grabbed a headset, and placed it onhis head to receive the message from his wife. “Paol, my love, as I continue to monitor your spaceship on the computer,you are getting so far from Earth that it is really starting to set in now thatwe will be apart for a long time. But,the days still go by quickly. The mediastill call for interviews and updates. Ican’t go out in public without being thronged by people with encouragingremarks and compliments. You are a realhero, and I’m so proud. Oh… the boys… Ialmost forgot. They received aninvitation to the White House by the President’s son. They say they’re ‘wildlyultra-dimensional’—kids and their slang these days. I still haven’t decided if I’m going toParis, but NASA’s public relations office is putting on quite a bit ofpressure. They fear that if I refuse theoffer from President Chartier, she may take offense. The problem is that I know it will remind meof our tenth anniversary in Europe. It’sgoing to feel empty there without you, Dear.

“Regarding your last message, I’m about half waythrough Seddy’s book. I agree with youthat his theories on extra-terrestrial intelligence evolution are quiteinteresting, but I have to point out they are just that—theories. We still haven’t discovered a singleintelligent communication coming from anywhere in the Milky Way. I know, I know… distance between stars, darkenergy interference, yada yada. I dohave to reiterate, Paol… please be careful on Earth2, and don’t take anythingfor granted. Even if you replaceintelligent beings, don’t take anything at face value. Unless the same human seed was used to fill inhabitableplanets, we can’t assume anything that anybody says or does. Just… just be careful, Love!

“Well… gotta run now. I’ll look forward to hearing your voice whenI return home this evening. Have a greatday, and tell Blade I said hello… poor fellow. It must be hard not having any family to talk with, especially at thistime of such change. I’m sure he coulduse some encouraging words. I love you,my hero!”

Paol slowly removed the headset and mechanicallyreturned it to its holster beside his seat. He looked over to notice his companion lying back with his eyes closedand a peaceful smile on his face. Hereached out with his right hand to get his partner’s attention, and then drewit back, thinking it was better not to disturb him in such contemplative peaceand relaxation. Instead, he slipped theheadset back on and listened to Joyera’s message a couple more times. Hearing her voice helped him feel that shewasn’t so far away, even though he knew that hundreds of millions of miles werebeyond his comprehension.

After perhaps a half dozen times through themessage, he again removed the headset and after looking down while replacing itin its compartment, he was startled by an apparent flash on the videodisplay. Slightly worried, his eyes shotall about the domed display, looking up, to the left, right, behind, andstraight ahead. Nothing appeared out ofthe ordinary, but had there not been a flash of light out of the corner of hiseyes?

“What’s up, Partna’?” Blade asked curiously, having sensed thesudden movements of Paol. NoticingPaol’s wide eyes glancing about in different directions, he restored his seatto its full upright position, and was restored from his meditative state tofull attention.

“Nothing—I—think” was Joonter’s reply.

Blade’s stare was persistent. “I’m thinkin’ that was a bit less thanconvincin’ there, Paol. What happened?”

“No, I—I just was putting up the headset and Ithought I saw—”

Paol’s sentence was cut off abruptly at thesecond flash, which equally caught both of the astronauts by surprise. Neither directly saw the brief flare thatflashed directly in front of the Star Transport, but there was no denying abrief and sudden explosion of white light directly in front of them.

Blade forced a smile onto his face. “No, wait! Ya’ know how much I love guessin’ games. You thought ya’ saw a flash of brilliant white light out in the front ofthe ship, didn’t you?”

Since both were now staring at the video displaywith both eyes fully open, Paol couldn’t see the expression on his companion’sface, but having familiarized himself with Blade’s playful inflections, Paolresponded, “Why, how on Earth2 did you know that, Blade?”

“Lucky guess, Partna’… lucky guess.”

Complete silence in the cockpit added to thetension, when all of a sudden.

“Whoa!”

“What the—?”

A third, nearly blinding flash occurred.

“Blade, can you see?” Paol questioned, whileshielding his eyes. “I was practicallylooking at that thing straight on.”

“I know what ya’ mean.” Blade’s eyes were closed, but he was feelingaround the control panel when he saw a fourth and fifth flash through hiseyelids. Locating a compartmentunderneath the panel, he pulled out a pair of dark glasses and put them on. Shielding the top of his eyes with his lefthand, he squinted through his glasses, while searching the darkened controlpanel for the right button, as a few more flashes occurred with increasingfrequency.

“Ah, there ya’ are,” Blade addressed the buttonof interest. In a moment, the flashingceased, as the planetarium quickly transitioned from video display to cockpitlighting. Both astronauts were leftsquinting and blinking rapidly, as the lights came on.

“Thanks, Buddy,” Paol said. “Good thinking, on shutting off the display.”

“Sure thing, Cap’n, but what the heck is goin’ onout there.”

“That’s a good question.” Paol was reeling from the excitement, butquickly regained his focus, and went to work. “Can you start a communication to Ground Control? Send them a video feed starting at time 14hundred 12 hours. Give them a full 360video. I know we only saw flashesdirectly in front, but let’s not rule out any pertinent data. Let them know that I’ll provide them withfull diagnostic reports in ten minutes. I’m going to head to the back of the ship first, to make sure mechanicaland life support systems aren’t impacted by the event. I’ll be back in 2 minutes.”

With that, Paol quickly flipped himself out ofhis seat and drifted towards the back of the vehicle, and the cockpit was ablur of activity. Paol opened and closedpanels, took note of monitor and gauge levels, while Blade threw on his headsetand spoke out his message while fervently working with the buttons and touchscreens on the control panel.

While floating horizontally and holding on to ahandrail with his left hand, Paol worked through the panels and meters with hisright hand, when he started to feel a tug on his left arm. Star Transport was beginning to slowlylurch. He fixed his gaze towards thefront of the ship in order to assess the change in direction of the vehicle.

“Blade! Why are we drifting downward?” Paol shouted to gain the attention of his companion in the middle of hismessage to NASA.

“—at least eight or ten flashes in increasin’frequen—hold on—we’re moving. Yes,Paol. You’re right we are pitchin’fo’ward gradually. Um—debris detection,Paol… debris… the nav-comp says we’re goin’ through a debris field. You might want—you should come buckle upbuddy, I don’t know what kind of course correction this system’s gonna do tous. Uh. Mission Control, please corroborate event. Do the flashes correspond to debris detectionevent? Over.”

Blade flipped off the recording and pushed thetransmit button. “Gimme yer hand, Paol,”Blade partially fastened his seat harness with his right hand while lookingback and extending as far as he could with his left hand.

Paol grabbed his partner by the hand and aroundthe wrist, as the latter gradually pulled him back into the cockpit. He clumsily tossed himself into his seat, andboth engaged full seat harnesses.

“Ok, Cap’n… d’ya ever remember hearin’ the StarShield team mention flashes? Could thisthing be zappin’ debris? Would thatcause the light?”

“Makes sense, Pal. All of the flashes were almost directly aheadof us, which is where the impact of debris should be occurring, but you’reright. I don’t remember being preppedfor the extreme light show. By the way,what is our heading now, Blade?”

“Looks like we’re ‘bout 0.8 degrees belowecliptic and 2.3 degrees to the left side.”

“Aha! Herewe go.” Paol exclaimed while working oneof the monitors. Pointing to the screen,he presented his replaceings. “Rightthere. An asteroid about 50K miles downrange. The computer estimates it atabout five hundred meters wide! That’sdefinitely an object worth steering around.”

“Ya’ think the flashes was debris from theasteroid, then?”

“I think we can figure out if it was.” Pointing to a monitor, Paol described hisassessment. “You see, the first flashoccurred right here around 14 hundred 15 hours. We should pass the orbit of the asteroid at about 14 hundred 28hours. That means the debris on theother side should cease around 14 hundred 45, say 50 at the most. We’ll try to fade up the video display around14 hundred 40 hours to see. In themeantime, we’ll want to capture the entire video, and Star Shield sensor dataand wrap it up for NASA.”

“I don’t gets it, Paol. They tolds us that the trip through the beltwould be easy.”

“They said that it was a very, very lowprobability that we would experience any debris. They based their calculations on their map ofthe asteroid belt and our timeframe through here, but it is purelystatistical. Even NASA doesn’t know allof the tiniest asteroids that orbit up here. The space is too big to categorize all of the smallest rocks. Either we just got really lucky—”

“Uh—dontcha mean unlucky, Joonter!” Blade corrected.

Paol smiled appreciatively. “Either we got really unlucky, or perhapsthis indicates a much more dense field in the asteroid belt than was previouslyestimated. I mean NASA has senthundreds, if not thousands of probes up here, you’d think that would besufficient to get a decent idea of density. But then again—” Paol trailed offas he noticed another slight course correction. The ship had leveled off below the asteroid and was traveling parallelto the ecliptic plane of the solar system. Likely, this meant that they had cleared the bottom of the asteroidalready.

“Then again,” persued Blade. “The asteroid belt is ‘bout 2 billion milesin circumference. Even if two thousandprobes have come out this way, that’s still one fer every million miles ofcircumference. That’s hardly sufficientto know what’s really out here.”

“Aha!” Paol interjected triumphantly. “Look at monitor five. Thecomputer is beginning to collate data sets from the Star Shield.”

Paol swiped his finger across the top of themonitor, where a blue 3D line drawing in the shape of the Star Transportdemonstrated itself on the monitor. After pressing the playback indicator, the video showed an acceleratedtime lapse of collisions with the Star Shield indicated by red flashing dots onvarious parts of the front of the spaceship. An impact counter went from a start of zero to nearly three thousand.

“I’m so glad you turned off that videodisplay. Could you imagine how bright itis out there right now with a peak of several impacts every second?”

“Well, at least we know that the shield isworkin’.”

“Indeed.” Paol nodded and sighed, in realization that the pair had successfullycome through the first of what could be many challenges and risks in the yearsto come.

…

The ST3 mission control room was a much largerand more active facility than the room in which Professor Zimmer and hisresearch contingency used for studying the yellow beam just over six yearsago. Rather than just two rows of flatwork stations, there were sixteen independent stations scattered throughout thelarge floor, with each station serving two mission specialists. The stations had sizeable work surfaces witheighteen inch walls at the back of the station where mounted stacked glassmonitor panels filled the back wall. Each station and wall jutted out at a 30 degree angle on either side,providing a second set of wall-mounted panels, giving each specialist awrap-around work space. The angleallowed for efficient usage of both monitors, as specialists could quickly seedata from both screens equally well.

The stacked glass panels were a relatively newand costly technology. When turned off,the monitors appeared as little more than a stack of four panes of glass, eachjust three millimeters thick. Each panelis separated by a vacuum space of five millimeters, and together, the panelswere all encased in a single, light-weight housing. When turned on, each panel was independentlycontrolled by any computer capable of multiple parallel image generation. The computer manages pixel transparencyindependently, such that any portion of the screen can be fully transparent,fully opaque, or any degree of transparency in between. In this way, a portion of the screen can beopaque, while others can be partially transparent to allow seamless overlappingof multiple images. This can be usefulwhen engineers wish to see a model of Star Transport on the back screen withoverlays of surface temperature on another, an astronaut position on a thirdscreen, and air quality on a fourth. Each pixel projection is controlled by a system of lasers mounted in thebottom of the display on the edge of the glass, and each pixel is projectedonto a curved bubble inside of the glass pane in order to provide imageshifting for parallax control. For asingle engineer looking straight on to the display, parallax is not an issue,but the concept of parallax adjustment on curved pixilation is necessary toallow multiple viewers to see the same stacked images without imageshifting. If one viewer is sitting tothe right of the screen, then his angle of view would otherwise cause images toappear shifted, thus distorting the stacking of images. The computer takes this problem into accountby shifting the image for each panel onto different pixels for viewers ofdifferent angles.

The front wall of the room contained a mainmission control monitor 20 feet tall and 40 feet wide. It was flanked on either side by two smallermonitors, each of which was only 10-15 feet in diameter. On the center of the main control, acomputerized image depicted the planet Jupiter. A thin red circle tightly hugging the planet showed the orbit of theStar Transport, with a small dot indicating the current location of theship. On the opposite side of theplanet, at the right edge of the screen a curving yellow line emerged anddisappeared on the display, indicating the predicted course of the superluminalcomet, and its flyby of the largest planet in the Solar System. Star Transport was clearly using the planetas a shield from the intense radiation field anticipated from the comet in ahigh-tech game of hide and seek.

From a curved theater-like balcony, which is usedas an observation deck, a large gathering of media, NASA officials, andpoliticians were gathered. Seated on thefront row on the right side of the balcony, Professor Zimmer sat with his threepost-doc astronomers, Joram Anders, Kath Mirabelle, and Reyd Eastman. There was an obvious tension throughout theroom, with all eyes glued to the central display.

“Professor,” Joram whispered as he leaned over inhis seat towards his white-haired mentor. “What are your thoughts on the matter? Our calculations indicated an arrival of the comet nearly a half hourago.”

“No need for worry yet, Mr. Anders,” Zimmerconsoled his colleague. “A thirty minutediscrepancy on an orbit of nearly six and a half years is not outside of normalstatistical deviation.”

Joram nodded, but his pursed lips and narrowedeyes indicated that he was clearly not placated. Two minutes later, he inquired, “We’ve onlyseen one orbit of this thing, Professor. What if it doesn’t return?”

“And why would it not return, Mr. Anders?” Zimmer responded into Joram’s ear to avoiddisrupting the focused silence of mission control personnel. “A collision is outside of the likelihood ofpossibility. As you know, this thingorbits in the sparseness of the Milky Way periphery where a collision with alarge enough deterrent for such a speedy object is extremely unlikely.”

“Do you think, then that we simply didn’t accountfor everything in our calculation, Professor?”

“Undoubtedly!”

“We have studied the equations for years. What variable could we have overlooked.”

“It’s not what we overlooked, Mr. Anders, butrather what we couldn’t calculate.”

Joram tilted his head and looked Zimmer squarelyin the face.

“While I feel confident that no major collisionshave occurred, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the comet hasn’t had someresistance to its orbit from space dust, rocks or other small sized asteroidsfrom nearby star systems.”

“Of course!” Anders stated loud enough to obtainthe attention of several field correspondents seated around the group. It was so obvious that he wondered why hehadn’t thought about it himself. Hisface flushed as Kath scowled at him for his irreverence. Leaning closer to the professor, he regainedhimself. “But, Professor, if these minorcollisions could slow down the comet and cause a delay, couldn’t they alsoimpact its course?”

“Certainly, but I don’t believe that it will besignificant. Work the numbers, if itwill satisfy you. A thirty minute delayis only 5 ten millionths of the entire orbit. Even if we wait several hours, the change is miniscule. I suspect the same will be true of theorbit.”

After a moment of silence, Anders continued. “Professor, I’ve been concerned about—”

Joram was interrupted by a raised hand ofProfessor Zimmer, who leaned forward in his seat as if to obtain a better viewof the Mission Control floor below. Acertain level of bustling ensued with some shifting in seats, and a couple ofengineers stood and rushed about to various workstations.

Several more engineers stood as the main videodisplay began processing the clear path of the superluminal comet,significantly closer to Jupiter than previously anticipated.

Several chattering voices were heard, but abovethe din, a voice of the mission control commander came from the back of thecontrol room floor. “Trajectory team,please adjust calculations of comet’s orbit and upload immediately to ST3. Comm, please notify ST3 that we have receivedconfirmation of the comet and that once the onboard computer has adjusted itstrajectory assignment, they are to proceed immediately to rendezvous. Congratulations, Team! ST3 hyper-warp phase begins now.”

Kath enthusiastically embraced Joram and went toplant a kiss on his cheek, when she noticed his ashen complexion. “Joram?” she asked wrinkling her forehead inconfusion.

Joram responded by shaking his head in confusionwith a shrug of the shoulders. He turnedto Zimmer to notice a similarly fallen countenance. “Professor, I’m worried about—”

Zimmer shot a knowing wide-eyed glance at Andersalong with a rapid, yet subtle shake of the head. “Not here, Joram.”

Kath squeezed Joram’s hand for hisattention. He turned and leaned towardsher ear. “I hope I’m wrong, Kath. We’ll need to do some thorough reviews andcrunch some big numbers, but there may be a chance that—”

“Mr. Anders! Not—here!” Zimmer’s voice was soft enough to not be heard above thechatter of the room, but was as stern as Joram had ever remembered. He stopped short, and began to comprehendthat his mentor was absolutely right. Being overheard in this group of individuals could prove detrimental.