Into the Great Darkness

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Into the Great Darkness Page 10

by George H Y Watson


  We all knew that Mr Wilson lived alone because he was The Founder of the Colony. A colony that he used to run almost single-handedly in the beginning.

  Looking back, I see now that he was too clever to be side-tracked by a mouthy twelve-year-old. He grinned, continued with his talk but shmaltzed it up a little to keep the girls interested.

  “My girlfriend and wife to be, although we both didn’t know it at the time was my beautiful Joann. We had started university together and I knew very quickly that she was the one for me! I planned to ask her to marry me as soon as I had a good job. Things were looking good!

  Unfortunately Joann had also just qualified but in ‘Interstellar Communication Theory’ and was given an on-the-spot offer of a Commissioned Rank within the Great Fleet itself as it readied for its first exploratory voyage into The Great Darkness to Alpha Centauri.

  Now a position in the Great Fleet for a new graduate was almost unheard of and in the thinking of that time, a great honour. There was no chance I could let her refuse this opportunity so I resigned myself to await her return.

  I was very unhappy of course. I couldn’t come to terms with what I feared; that with a four to five year parting we would drift away from each other. Today I know the truth, that if you love someone enough, it's not a problem and you would do anything for them”.

  At this point some of the girls Ooh'd and Aah’d whilst we boys pretended indifference and rolled our eyes.

  “Later there was the inevitable delay in the Fleet Build Programme and for six months we carried on as if nothing would change except she now wore my engagement ring and I began to realise that I could never find another like her.”

  Cue more Oohs and Aahs and rolling of eyes.

  “Eventually, I started at Fleet Mission Control and Joann began pre-flight training in Houston.

  Now try to imagine looking up into the sky above and seeing a Grand Fleet of 35 Starships begins to take shape! The metalwork shone in the night sky and sometimes also by day, construction it was said, overseen in every detail by the Great Cellini himself.”

  There was some subdued muttering from our group at the mention of Cellini.

  Mr Wilson paused, “I can see that a little accurate information about Alberto Cellini would do some good too! He wasn’t the Bringer of Pestilence etcetera or the Bogeyman that your mothers would have you believe!”

  “Cellini was Italian, a slightly built individual with dark Latin looks and piercing brown eyes. What made him unique was his all-consuming passion, his Great Love if you like, for everything to do with spaceflight! The first record we have of him is in the summer of 2018 aged 26 and trying to catch the interest of the largest aerospace company in Europe, ‘European Central Aerospace’.

  He had theorised that coupling one of the newly-invented Electrical Plasma Generators onto a Hall-Effect Ion engine would produce tremendous thrust far superior to the chemical rockets of the time. All he required was sponsorship to develop the technology.

  He was convinced that his theoretical invention, then called ‘The Cellini Torch’ would revolutionise space travel!

  Regrettably, the business-people that ran E.C.A. were only interested in continuing with their own existing and profitable passenger aircraft range. They listened sceptically to what Cellini had to say and when he concluded his talk by saying, ‘I am certain that an engine for Faster-Than-Light Spacecraft could be produced relatively simply and cheaply with current technology,’ several of the board members actually got up and walked out laughing.

  The meeting was over.

  For a while Cellini continued to approach smaller manufacturers in Europe but with the same result. It seemed inevitable that his new engine would be stillborn, to await reinvention in the future by someone else with more luck.

  In the end, penniless, he sat in his one bed apartment near the Parco Del Pineto in Rome realising that the dream was over. He felt his passion for spaceflight slowly being smothered.

  There came a light tap on his door and believing it was the ‘Locatore’ (the landlord) after the rent again, he took his time to answer.

  In the doorway stood a tall well-built man immediately recognisable to Cellini from the many aerospace magazines he had read and some that he had contributed to.

  Major Charles Benning, head of the NASA Ion Engine Research Facility in Pasadena smiled back at the dumbfounded young man.

  “California is very pretty, this time of year.”

  Within forty-eight hours Cellini was in Pasadena complete with H1B work permit courtesy of the USAF. Eight months later the prototype engine ‘Cellini Torch 1’ was test flown from the International Space Station to crash land on the moon after a two hour flight.

  A further year and a small unmanned craft orbited the moon and returned to the I.S.S. within an earth day. Within two years the ‘Ray Bradbury’ flew to Mars in two days. Three years later an experimental craft, the ‘Arthur C. Clark’ was flown at a previously unbelievable speed to the outer limits of the solar system on several exploratory journeys that only took days!

  Space exploration took on new life lead by NASA and Cellini became famous ‘overnight’; an overnight that had taken him seven years! When he appeared on the cover of ‘Flight International’ and numerous other aerospace publications his face became ‘The Face of Space Exploration’ and then, after the founding of the first Martian colony he could do no wrong!

  When he came up with the concept of a fleet of thirty or so craft to explore the nearby stars during an initial voyage of three to five years, there were no dissenters. The fleet concept was theorised to be safer for the astronauts as there would be more facilities and resources in case something went wrong.

  Cellini was a very modest young man, but much to his embarrassment the New York Times hailed him as the new Leonardo Da Vinci who would take mankind to the stars.”

  At this point Mr Wilson pointed his walking stick at the distant decaying city, “As you can see, he took us all somewhere else instead.”

  “One day I was at my desk in Mission Control looking up at the big screen. On the display was a simulated deployment of the nuclear powered Ion-Signal-Relays that would enable communication with the Great Fleet with only a short time lag of several days.

  The Relays were of course an idea of Cellini’s and he had specified deployment at 0.9 light years apart. When the fleet departed it would leave in its wake a long line of these across the cosmos to assist with communication and their astral navigation.

  The Office Reception rang to say I had a visitor and with Jo away and no surviving family I couldn’t think who it could be.

  Entering Reception the bright mid-day glare temporarily dazzled me through the large glass frontage. Outside a crowd of people near the runway were looking at what appeared to be one of the new Fleet Shuttles. I didn’t notice the slight figure in black Fleet Uniform until she had touched my arm.

  Joanna!

  ‘Howdy handsome,’ she smiled, warm lips touching mine.

  ‘Jo, what are you doing here?’

  Her smile faltered ever so slightly and I felt a coldness grow within my chest. A coldness that never actually went away to this day.

  Bad news. Again.

  ‘I’ve just arrived on the transport with some others from Houston Flight Training. We’re to join the shuttle. We leave in an hour.’

  Her eyes filled with tears. Just when I thought there were no further depths to my misery, I found out of course that there were.

  ‘Engine tests have been so successful, departure has been moved up’. Her smile had now disappeared and she gripped my arm desperately, lovingly. I had bruises there for several days after.

  We spent the next hour walking around the hangars to get some privacy. We told each other the things that people in love say before a long separation.”

  At this point in Mr Wilson’s talk, there were even more “Oohs” and “Aahs” from the girls and a few handkerchiefs dabbing pretend tears.

  �
��I lamented the fact that we would not have any contact until the fleet was on its return journey, three or four years hence.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong sonny!’ she grinned and posed hands on hips, ‘I am the Junior Communications Officer.’

  I looked blankly back at her. You girls will find it’s something we men are good at.

  ‘Silly,’ she continued, ‘during the daily memory dumps to the Ion-Relays; I’ll slip in a little love-note to let you know how things are going. Jus’ so you won’t forget me.’

  She knew by the grip of my arm around her shoulders that that would never happen!

  ‘I’ll ensure that my message will be automatically reprinted, rerouted, sealed and sent to your desk on plasti-paper to bypass security scanning. See? Smart eh?’

  ‘But what if you’re caught?’

  She employed her Naughty Girl smirk that I grew to miss so much, ‘It will be our little secret, William. And anyway, what they gonna’ do, fire me when we’re 20 light-years from home?' She tapped her nose knowingly, ‘Trust me; the check is in the post!’

  The hour ended. Countless times I've relived it, trying to imagine a different ending. I held her tight but still had to let her go. She pulled herself away slowly, looked into my watery eyes with her watery eyes, ‘See you Billy’. Picking up her flight bag she walked through the looky-looks and into the shuttle side hatch.

  Soon the craft trundled along the runway slowly gaining speed until the wheels left the ground. The landing gear retracted and the jet engines reached full thrust for a near vertical climb through the clouds and away. Away...

  I returned to work and slumped down in my seat with a severe case of ‘The Glums’. Nearby ‘Denny the Dumbass’ and his friends were laughing at me, repeating witty gems such as, ‘His Long-Time Girlfriend, gonna’' be a veeerry Long-Time! Ha, ha.”

  They all died during ‘The Adjustment’. I am ashamed to admit that there was a time during the first winter when I could have helped Denny, but I didn’t. He was caught cattle rustling and I had him hanged.”

  Excerpts from Letter 1. Xmit from Relay 5.

  Day 7:

  Dear William,

  Out of deceleration couches a day now and approaching Alpha Centauri ‘A’. And guess what? Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, remains that, just a theory! Our on-board time remains the same as yours, irrespective of our speed! It means I will be home with you much sooner than anticipated!

  Our sensors have detected some small scale industrial activity on planet number four and our Language Laboratory and Diplomatic experts are gearing up for a shuttle landing.

  I’ve noticed since taking my post that there seem to be a lot of Civilian Industrial and Political types on our ship, the flagship of the fleet ‘Cellini 1’. They spend a lot of time behind doors with the Admiral and his officers. Rumour control says the Admiral and his senior officers will be very wealthy when they return to Earth!

  I can’t believe it! This is Mankind’s first Interstellar journey and they're money-grubbing!

  Day 12:

  The shuttle landing was a great success. Imagine a whole planet full of Buddhists! They call themselves Rallans and the most senior of them wear long white robes. Very fetching! It’s been so long since I wore a nice dress, but I am digressing. They are about five feet tall, humanoid with a greenish tinted skin and very pleasant to talk to, I am told.

  Their cities are very clean and basic, not much mechanical transport and no aircraft. The many Temples are beautiful with curved pointed roofs covered in a lustrous green metal, “Similar to Platinum,” our metallurgist gushed in excitement, “and fantastic electrical conductivity too!”

  In exchange for about a ton of the green metal our Admiral has allowed a deputation of Rallans to visit our flagship tomorrow. We are all sure they will be impressed with our technology!

  Day 13:

  Early today Six Rallans appeared in the doorway of the Ship’s Bridge, each with one of our computer-translators hanging around their necks. A very auspicious occasion too as Cellini was also present at his small engine-monitoring consol. We don’t tend to see much of him as he spends most of his time in the computer-modelling room on new engine designs.

  The Rallans entered and an odd thing happened, instead of going direct to the Admiral’s Chair, they halted momentarily in front of Cellini, turned to him and all six made the Rallan gesture of great respect; slowly in unison they nodded to him. Cellini blushed like a co-ed, but how did they even know who he was?

  The visitors spread out and visited several consoles and talked to the officers. We had been told earlier not to talk of private matters or detailed technology.

  From the side of my eye I noticed one of the female visitors gliding in my direction. When I looked up she smiled, “Name is Rena,” and put out her three fingered hand for an Earth handshake, “Pleesedtermeetcha.”

  “Joanna, pleased to meet you, too.” I couldn’t help but smile into the kind face with the dark green eyes.

  For over an hour we talked about what I did on the ship and generally about life on Earth. Rena described her work in the Rallan government, overseeing production in one of their primitive factories. I gained the impression that our technology wasn’t all that impressive to her and said so.

  “We ‘ave technology long time ‘go, but it disappear”.

  We were getting on famously when the chime announced impending departure of the return shuttle.

  Rena was the last to leave. As she turned to go she said, “Bye Joanna,” and her expression became concerned. Quickly she looked about. No one was paying any attention to us and she put her warm hand on mine and smiled, “Yew r the luv of 'illiam's lyf!"

  Then she was gone. I was flabbergasted! I had not mentioned you to her. Why did she say that?

  I then experienced my first but not last, feeling of unease.

  Day 21:

  We are about to leave the Alpha Centauri system after a terrible accident. We have lost a ship! The commander of Cellini 22, a politically-appointed ass called Redwood activated his main ion drive too close to the atmosphere of Ralla. The resulting backfeed has devastated a two hundred mile diameter area of the planet as well as blowing the ship to pieces with the total loss of six hundred crew.

  Our Captain Roberts was giving orders to send shuttles down when he was stopped by the Admiral.

  “For god’s sake why not?” Roberts shouted at the Admiral, “There’ll be thousands of casualties”.

  “We have our schedule to keep,” was all the Admiral would say, relaxing back into his chair.

  “Orders from your damned politico friends! You callous, greedy bastard!”

  Quickly, Captain Roberts was grabbed by two Men-At-Arms and dragged from the bridge. Lieutenant Henries, whose father owns Henries Mining Inc., slid into the vacant chair. Later in the day there was an Airlock Fault Warning on the main consol. Captain Redgrave pressed his Override/Ignore control. We haven’t seen Captain Roberts since.

  William, I’m frightened again! I never thought it would be like this! The people I looked up to at the beginning are starting to show their true colours. It’s as if everything about this voyage is a sham.

  More soon, your J.

  #

  Excerpts from Letter 18. Xmit from Relay 24.

  Day 45:

  Dear William,

  We are now in the Sirius system heading for a small planet orbiting Sirius B. Life has settled down since Ralla but I have a growing sense that there should be retribution for what we have done! What goes around etc.

  Day 47:

  Now in orbit with occasional course corrections because of gravitational anomalies caused by this system being a Binary.

  We have detected a low technology civilisation roughly about 14th century Earth status. The natives again are humanoid, more human-looking than the Rallans but we aren’t contacting them because the Admiral and his company men see no gain for themselves or their sponsors.

  Sitting in the
control room to the rear of the Captain and Admiral’s chairs I believe sometimes they forget I am there. I hear them talking.

  Our sensors have detected very rich Uranium deposits on a large uninhabited Island far away from the occupied landmasses. This island has obviously not yet been reached by the primitive sailing ships available to the natives.

  Day 53:

  The shuttles from Cellini 19 and 24 have landed mining equipment and crews from Henries Mining Inc. on the island. From high orbit we see clouds of filth thrown into the atmosphere by their explosives. They just don’t seem to care! The small ore-processing plant is also running and the dark sludge of toxic waste covers many square miles of ocean, drifting towards the occupied landmasses.

  Cellini 19 will remain behind and await our return in about 12 months.

  I heard yesterday that there were some primitive tribesmen on the island causing problems. The Admiral quietly sanctioned the use of our Marines and the tribe has disappeared!

  William, I thought I had embarked on the first great journey of Man’s exploration of the galaxy but I was naïve! This pillaging of off-world resources to enrich the large Earth Corporations was pre-planned!

  More soon, your J.

  #

  Excerpts from Letter 128. Xmit from Relay 347.

  Day 124: En-route to Epsilon Eridani System.

  Dear William,

  We have encountered a strange race of beings that actually live in the vacuum of space between worlds. Such graceful creatures made up of trillions of bright dots of electrical energy. They remind me of the whales from earth’s oceans but much more intelligent. There are thousands of them large and small. We assume the smaller are the younger.

  They are very curious about our fleet and ‘swim’ past us and around us constantly! I don’t know if they transmit their emotions somehow but several of our crew sense a great friendliness and compassion from them, an ancient race that has lived in the space between the stars for millennia. The Admiral senses nothing.

 

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