Angular Moment

by Louis Sollert

silently vowed to pursue the matter.

  “Winters, report please,” Parker said.

  “We’ve recovered twelve bodies. According to the roster Dr. Volonskaya reconstructed for us, we’re still missing the deputy station administrator, Fatima Colon; three from the science team: Doctors Donovan, Werner, and Guerrera; and the entire services team: Iris and Rajib Sanjat, Steven Cobb, and Nicola Sutherland. Also still unaccounted for is one tech, Lars Ångstrom. We have yet to search the galley, the two hydroponics domes, the forward supply compartment, the project command center and of course the reactor module. We can access the galley and the two hydroponics domes through the aft docking port, the forward supply compartment and project command center through the forward docking port.”

  Reality was folded in upon itself. One of the spacial dimensions was missing and another ran along what the Entity formerly experienced as the axis of duration. Duration, in this hellish place, seemed to be linked to mass in some horrid way, stretching out longer and longer as proximity to the bottom of deep gravity wells was reached.

  The Entity wasn’t possessed of intellect in the sense that it learned from experience and applied what it learned. Its understanding of reality was more akin to instinct, but even that wasn’t entirely accurate. In some ways the flesh and bone, the substance, of the Entity was composed of that which was the underpinning structure of reality. Transition into three-space was physically painful and it disrupted the Entity’s understanding.

  Emotions that would have overwhelmed a Human mind in a similar situation simply weren’t possible to the Entity, but a sense of urgent need prompted it to reach out along the slim tendril that still anchored it to its own reality and attempt to draw itself back home. It lacked the strength. Its reserves of precious energy were dwindling. Many times it was assaulted by chaotic, painful thoughts and emotions, although only briefly, as if the source were only momentarily intersecting the Entity’s true spacial and temporal reality in passing.

  Understanding extended into the mechanism that produced the cube that had intruded into its reality. With some of its waning store, it imperfectly reactivated the conduit generator. Instead of opening a new conduit to its home, the conduit generator (in conjunction with the tug the Entity was still making on its own reality) folded the cosmos, pinched both realities together, creating a distorted conduit with both the three-space origin and four-space terminus attempting to occupy the same absolute location in reality. Because the competing realities were wholly incompatible with one another, this manifested itself to a viewer in three-space as alternating cuboid shapes, one a regular hexahedron, the other a tesseract.

  Power loss was reaching critical levels for the Entity. Then, from outside the housing of the point-mass, a trickle of energy. Swiftly, but only subjectively so because of its proximity to that point-mass and the resulting distortion of the duration axis, it drew as much as the channel would handle. It would live. The conduit would remain, damaged though it was.

  Day eight drew to a close. Cathcart and Winters were finishing the last of the laundry. Parker had completed his log for the day and was considering deferring thought of tomorrow’s work plan until breakfast. EVA looked effortless, but days of it on end had left him physically drained. He owed an hour on the centrifuge and then he wanted nothing more than a full shift’s sleep.

  He’d just strapped himself into the seat and had begun pedaling when Dr. Volonskaya appeared. “We have four of these on Howard. They are all set next to one another in BQ8a.” She floated above the fixed sprocket so that Parker whirled around her as if in orbit. “Have you just begun?” The hint wasn’t subtle. Parker slowed to a stop to allow her to take the vacant opposing seat.

  “Can I assume you didn’t come here just for exercise?” Parker had waited until they’d gotten back up to speed.

  “Da. I have another request, but I did not want to make it in front of the others for fear of undermining you.”

  “You needn’t have worried about that, but I do appreciate the thought.” The illusion that they were stationary and it was the compartment that was spinning around them was nearly perfect. “What did you want?”

  “First, I see an anomaly and it bothers me.” Clearly she wanted to explain. He’d let her. “What I saw of Howard, it looks old. Too old. Last night, however, I remembered the aft supply room and the matériel I removed from there. That room did not look old. Certainly the food and supplies I took were fresh enough.” She paused to catch her breath. They’d each been unconsciously pushing a little faster and the pace was now such that she was challenged to both breathe and speak. She let her feet follow the pedals for a few strokes instead of pushing. “I wish to investigate. I would like Ensign Winters to assist me.”

  “I don’t see a problem with that, Doc,” said Parker in an even tone that spoke to how far he had to go before he was winded.

  “Tomorrow you will arrange for Ensign Winters to accompany me to the aft supply module, correct?”

  “Yes. I think Cathcart can handle Kestrel alone. He’s been a little moody, but he’s basically sound,” said Parker. “I think I’ll start on the forward supply module and you two can do the aft one, the galley and the hydroponics domes. If I clear forward supply and the project command module with time to spare, I’ll come down to your end and help you. Maybe we can finish up everything except the reactor module tomorrow.” Parker pedaled silently for a few revolutions. “I may have gotten ahead of myself. How much time do you need for your investigation, ma’am?” He had a quick flash of understanding of Cathcart’s use of the word sir.

  “Mostly I want to take detailed PSR stills of the aft supply room for analysis later. If what I expect to find is there, I . . . we may have caught some luck in determining what happened to Howard.”

  “What do you think did happen?”

  “Not now,” she said. “Not until I am sure.” There was some fear in her voice.

  They pedaled for a bit in silence. “I have another question. It may be indelicate.”

  “Ask. I can always avoid answering.” He grinned.

  “Is Ensign Winters ill in some way?”

  Ensign Winters was the healthiest human being Parker knew. He laughed. “It’s the hair, right?”

  “Da. Yes. It is jarring. Where I grew up there were very few dark-skinned people. Between the color of his skin and the hairlessness, I find myself wanting to stare.”

  “You may have just answered a question I’ve been meaning to ask him myself. I suspect he had an alopecia treatment to attract attention to himself, specifically from women.” Parker chuckled. “He has a certain reputation.”

  Natalia blushed. “And I am another fly in his web?”

  “I doubt it, ma’am. I’ve never known Winters to pursue anyone not of color. He’d command here if he hadn’t chased a native girl down and spent some unscheduled time off with her on a sunny beach in his final year and dropped a couple of weeks behind in his studies.”

  She held a creamy arm out for inspection. “So I am safe, then.”

  “From Winters, I’d say so.” Parker left the rest unsaid. He’d seen Cathcart’s reaction to her as well.

  After a few revolutions, “Yes, well I will be mindful of that.” They finished out their hour in silence.

  “Approaching aft docking hatch.” Winters’ voice was sure. EVA was becoming routine for the ensigns. Dr. Volonskaya had briefed the crew on her suspicion that the aft hatch and aft supply module were in a different state than the rest of Howard. From what he could see on close approach, Winters was ready to agree. The discoloration apparent on the rest of the crew modules seemed to stop half a meter into this one. The hatch itself wasn’t corroded and the seals were intact. He carried a standard hatch power override unit, essentially a small battery with a jumper to signal to the hatch that it should open. It worked. Dr. Volonskaya recorded the entire sequence carefully. As they entered the module, she carefully recorded and mapped the area. There was an arc of discoloration on th
e deck in the forward portion. She placed a measuring stick on the deck in each shot, presumably to aid in analyzing the scope of the area that was so unnaturally aged.

  “I am finished,” she said.

  Winters tried his override unit on the forward hatch. That there was no response did not surprise him. The corrosion and decay prevalent in the other parts of station Howard were visually evident. Pry bar and scissoring tool opened this hatch as they had so many others over the past few days. He could see a body. “Ma’am, do you want to continue? I can handle salvage alone if I need to.”

  “Do I want to? Nyet. But I will anyway.” Winters glided into the galley and turned the body so he could record the name.

  “Cobb.” Winters pulled a shroudsack out of his carryall. Natalia helped him pull it over the body.

  “Steven, our nutritionist. He was always a little jealous of Danny Westfall. Steven knew what we should eat, but Danny knew how to make it so we would want to eat it.”

  Port and starboard about two thirds of the way forward through the module were the two iris hatches that led to the hydroponics bays. Winters approached the port hatch and took a pocket plasma torch to it, cutting a broad opening for access. Natalia made a cursory search of the galley for personal artifacts to be salvaged. She found nothing of