Beyond Uranus

by Stewart Bruce & Nigel Moreland

  “Just making the river run backwards, well at least it’s a start and better than nothing.”

  “You have to tell Simon. He has to know because he’ll be able to refine the idea.”

  “I’ll tell him tomorrow. Come on Adams let’s go home. Do the same thing so I can see the view again on the return journey.”

  “OK Roy.”

  *

  When we got back I took a walk over to Gary’s salon. As I got there he was tidying up the salon. Like me he was back in his jumpsuit.

  “How are you feeling Gary?”

  “Hi Roy. I’m a bit rough around the edges but I’m not too bad. What a day yesterday was. I haven’t been that drunk in years.”

  “Are you ready for a quick exploration today?”

  “Yes. Which way do you want to go?”

  “I thought we could see what’s on the other side of the American sector and perhaps grab a bite to eat there or in the American sector if we don’t fancy the food there.”

  “Ok, that sounds good.”

  About half an hour later we had walked through the Russian and American sectors and arrived at the door to the new sector. Gary raised his arm to the door, sighed and said “To be honest I can’t be arsed. Get the door open please Adams.”

  *

  We entered the corridor to new sector and we were instantly hit with the intense aroma of coriander, cumin and garlic. As we started walking Gary remarked “Strewth, what is that smell?”

  “That is the smell of kings, the whiff of great expectations, it is the tang of good news. I think I know where we are and this is going to be one of my favourite places.”

  “So what the bloody hell is that pong?”

  “Mostly cumin.”

  “So where do you think we are?”

  We rounded the corner and I help out my arms “India!”

  “India?”

  “Yes or it could be Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Nepal or Bangladesh. But there is one thing I am certain about.”

  “What’s that Roy?”

  “We are going to have a fantastic curry. Where are we Adams?”

  “We are in India.”

  It was then that I looked up and noticed the ceiling for the first time. All of the other sectors showed the blackness of space but this was the first sector that had a blue sky with a few clouds dotted around.

  “What’s with the ceiling?” I asked Adams. “How come we’re not looking into space?”

  “It’s something the pilots wanted in this sector. They wanted a ceiling that reminded them of Earth rather than looking out into space.”

  “Come on Gary let’s go and look at the centre.”

  We started walking to the centre. Yet again there was another square and the buildings around made up the apartments, facilities and pilot’s facilities and I was surprised at the visage before me. I had expected to see lots of circular, white-washed structures topped with domed roofs and all. I was unprepared for the modernity of tinted glass and steel. The Chinese sector had a very oriental feel to it with its curved roofs and red and gold colours. The American sector looked like an archetypal mid-west town but the Indian sector had the look of a contemporary city. I had no idea what a typical Indian town would look like but I guess it wouldn’t look like a state-of-the art metropolis that we were faced with. The only building I’d ever seen that was remotely Indian was the Brighton pavilion, and that was only in pictures. The square was covered in grass and at the centre were rows of tables with groups of people sat at them. To one side was a large open kitchen. As we got closer I could see the kitchen had a mix of stainless steel cookers and tandoori clay ovens. Most of the people in the centre were wearing very western style clothes but there were a few women in brightly coloured sarees; in rich turquoise, purples and greens all embroidered with gold thread. Similarly, a few of the men wore long jackets over floppy pantaloons. Occasionally there was one wearing a dazzlingly dyed turban. All the brilliant colours coupled with the scent of curry spices and the background hubbub of daily life clamoured at our senses for attention.

  “Are you ready to eat?” I asked Gary.

  “Not really.”

  “Why don’t we go into the next sector and then come back here to eat?”

  “What happens if the next sector has better food than here?”

  “Are you mad? Better food than a real curry?”

  “What do you mean by real curry?”

  “You’ll find the food is slightly different from the food you get in the restaurants back home. I love Indian restaurants but this will be a more like a taste of India.”

  “How do you know all this? Have you been to India?”

  “No I did my teacher training in Manchester. If you looked carefully you could find some fantastic restaurants that made great Indian meals. They were good times and I really missed the food when I moved to North Yorkshire. I tried to make it myself but it never tasted the same. Adams, direct us to the next sector.”

  “No problem. Walk through the outdoor restaurant towards the corner that’s on the right in front of you.”

  We started walking through the tables and a lot of people turned to stare at us because of how we were dressed I guess, not to mention the fact that we were white. A group of young men greeted us with ‘Namaste.’

  “What are they saying Adams?” I enquired.

  “They are saying ‘Hello’ in Hindi.”

  “Thanks Adams. Namaste,” I replied and carried on walking. This happened several times as we walked through the tables and each time Gary or I politely replied.

  We arrived at the door which Adams opened without any fuss and we walked through. At the end of the corridor we turned the corner to see another European type area. I assumed it was European but having been through the Indian sector with its modern metropolitan looking buildings it could have been anywhere. The buildings in the new sector had wooden fronts to them and in the centre of the square was a large building that we started walking towards.

  “Where do you think we are?” asked Gary.

  “Europe?”

  “I think so. What about Sweden?”

  “Why Sweden? What about Norway?”

  “Norway or Sweden, they both have wooden buildings don’t they?”

  “I guess we really have no idea. I think we’re right in that this is northern Europe as opposed to Southern Europe. I always imagine southern Europe to have white stone walls with terracotta roof tiles and northern Europe to be wooden walls with chimneys for the cold winters. However, I also think I’m now talking a load of crap and you cannot really tell where you are by looking at the buildings.”

  “Can you read the sign on that building yet Roy?” asked Gary pointing towards the centre of the square.

  I strained my eyes to look at the sign in the distance.

  “Alt Berliner weeberstooben. I don’t think I can pronounce it correctly Gary.”

  “It’s Alt Berliner Weißbierstuben,” interrupted Adams.

  “Berliner,” said Gary, “that’s Germany.”

  “Are we in Germany Adams? And what does that building’s name mean?”

  “Yes we are in Germany,” confirmed Adams, “and the building’s name means Old Berlin White Beer Parlour.”

  “Somebody pinch me.” I beamed.

  “Why?” asked Gary.

  “Lowenbrau on tap here, followed by a real Indian next door.”

  “You’re not going to get tanked up again are you Roy?”

  “No way, but we now know that the lager is likely to be alcoholic so we can take it steady and have a couple of pints before going for an Indian. And when I say take it steady I mean I’m not going to get pissed. We had a teacher in school and at every Christmas party he would say that he was going to take it steady. Needless to say by the end of the evening he was completely arseholed and usually naked.”

  “Taking it steady sounds like a good idea.”

  When we arrived at the pub we entered the door. The interior was ve
ry big with lots of tables and several bar areas. Wood was definitely the theme to the furniture and fittings. It was a nice deep mahogany colour which made the place look solid and well made, like it had been there for hundreds of years. There were quite a few people in the pub wearing casual clothing. Some of them turned around to take a look at us, so I held out my arms and in a loud voice said “Ich habe haarige Achselhöhlen.” The pub went silent and everybody looked at me and Gary. I dropped my arms and smiled.

  “Roy?”

  “Yes Adams.”

  “Why did you say that?”

  “I know a bit of German.”

  “But why did you say that?”

  “I went on the school German exchange each year and the German teacher taught me some basic phrases to help me get by when we went out. Dave Peppert was always helpful like that.”

  “What do you think you said?”

  “Good evening everybody.”

  “Roy, you actually said ‘I have hairy armpits’”

  “What?”

  “You’ve loudly announced to everybody in the pub that you have hairy armpits.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes I am positive.”

  “So what does Ich habe einen sehr kleinen Schwanz mean?”

  “That translates as ‘I have a very small cock.’”

  “The bastard! He told me it was ‘I am having a good time.’ What about Ich trage Damenbekleidung?”

  “I wear women’s clothing.”

  “What a total, utter, utter bastard. When I see Dave next I’m going to have serious words with him.”

  “How many times did you go on the trip with Dave Peppert?” asked Gary.

  “About six or seven times. I always thought people were laughing at my poor pronunciation and English accent.” The whole pub was still looking at us. “Adams, how do you say ‘I’m only joking’?”

  “Ich mag zu wichsen,” he answered.

  “Ich mag zu wichsen,” I said very loudly and the place erupted in laughter. It settled down and people got back to their conversations and ignored us again. “Let’s get a drink.” We wandered over to the bar and I asked Adams “Adams? How do you ask for a pint of lager?”

  “It’s OK Englisher I know enough English. Would you like two lagers? We don’t do pints, we’re metric and offer two hundred and fifty mills or five hundred mills.”

  “Your English is fantastic. Could we have two, half litres of lager please?”

  “Ja,” answered the barman and he started pouring the lagers. “I think my English may be better than your German, ja?”

  “I don’t really know any German to be honest.”

  “Why did you tell everybody that you like to masturbate?”

  “What!”

  “Ja, you said you have hairy armpits and then you said ‘I am a wanker.’”

  Gary burst out laughing.

  “Adams!” I shouted “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Sorry Roy but I couldn’t resist it.”

  Gary was in tears as the barman handed over the drinks. “Enjoy.” He said and we collected our drinks and went and sat at a table.

  “You’re not angry with me are you Roy?” asked Adams.

  “Yes I am. I trust you Adams and you’ve made a right tit of me.”

  “I’m sorry but I also wanted to have a funny story I could tell people. If you remember in the bar the other week you, Claire and Gary were telling stories and I didn’t have any. Well now I have one story I can tell. I promise not to do it again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes I promise... probably.”

  “Come on Roy,” Interrupted Gary, “you’ve got to admit that was funny as hell.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  The lager was cold, with condensation dripping down the glasses, as we supped whilst chatting about Germany and teacher who had set me up with all the wrong phrases. After a couple of glasses we made our way back to the Indian sector and had one of the best meals I’d eaten in years. On the way home we decided to meet at ten o’clock in the morning outside Gary’s salon.

  “Shall I ask Russell if he wants to come along?” asked Gary.

  “Why not and tell him to turn up in his new casual clothes rather than his jumpsuit.”

  “I’ll put my cowboy stuff on.”

  “Can you button up your shirt, lose the feather and roll down your jeans?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it would be nice to look normal for a change.”

  “For me this is normal but I’ll do anything for you darling.”

  “Christ Gary, call me Roy.”

  “Anything for you Roy darling.”

  Throwing my hands up either side of my head in a gesture of exasperation, with a sigh I capitulated. “I give up.”

  *

  When I arrived back home I sat on my sofa in front of my big TV screen but didn’t bother turning anything on.

  “Are you OK Roy?” enquired Adams.

  “Yes I’m fine but I cannot think of any game I want to play you at.”

  “You have an unlimited number to choose from as I can download any of the latest titles released on Earth.”

  “I know but none of them take my fancy now that I’ve beaten you.”

  “What’s the problem with them?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s because most of the multiplayer games take place in small arenas or small play areas. I don’t think there is anything on the market that does what I would like it to do.”

  “What would you like it to do?”

  “I’d like it to have a big play area. I’d like lots of vehicles for road, air, water and possibly space. I’d want a multitude of weapons. I’d like to be able to find upgrades in the play area and have an ability to track the other player. I want it set in the future and have lots of alien artefacts.”

  “I could write something like that if you like Roy.”

  “You can write computer games?”

  “I think if I can manipulate a Quantum Singularity Drive to navigate through your solar system whilst creating a microscopic gravity well and simultaneously process the Earth equivalent of fifty yottaflops of data per second then I think I could manage to program your little backward console.”

  “How long do you think it’ll take you?”

  “I think I could be finished by Monday.”

  “Brilliant,” and then the phone rang. I picked it up and said “Hello?”

  “Hello Roy,” replied my mum.

  “Hi mum, are you OK?”

  “I’m fine and how’s that new girlfriend of yours?”

  “She’s fine but I haven’t seen her for the last few days because she’s popped back to the UK to see her mum.”

  “I’m glad she has time to see her poor mother.”

  “Mum I haven’t been here that long and she hasn’t seen her mum in about a year.”

  “A year! I hope you’re not going to leave it that long?”

  “No mum but I don’t know when I will get some leave. When I do I promise to come and see you.”

  “And will you bring Claire so I can meet her?”

  “If she has some leave at the same time then yes I will.”

  The conversation took its usual course of talking about close relatives and we said our goodbyes. After I hung up I asked Adams to connect with Simon.

  “Hello,” said Simon.

  “Hi Simon. I wonder if I could have some of your time in the morning before ten o’clock.”

  “How long?”

  “About half an hour?”

  “OK do you want to meet in my office at about eight o’clock?”

  “No, can we meet at my ship at eight?”

  “No problem. Do you have a problem with your ship because you could ask Simon the engineer to help you?”

  “No, I want to show you something and get your view about what you think.”

  “OK, sounds intriguing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
<
br />   “Let’s go to bed Adams.”

  Chapter 13 – Saturday

  I was at my ship a little early and Simon arrived at dead on eight o’clock. We entered the ship and Adams took it out to a thousand kilometres.

  “So what can I do for you Roy?”

  “Adams is going to take the ship to the other side of the solar system. The Hyper Travel should last about one minute. I want you to watch the front screens.”

  “OK.”

  “Are you ready Adams?”

  “I’m ready Roy.”

  “OK Adams let’s go!”

  All the screens flicked off except for the screen in front of me. The small white dot expanded into a pixelated vision of the outside without me having to ask Adams to zoom into the view.

  “No!” was the shocked response from Simon, “This can’t be.”

  He stood in stunned silence as the sun grew and then passed. When we came to a stop Simon broke the silence. “How the hell did you do that?”

  “I got the idea from Amelia. She said that I would need to get a river to run backwards so my boat wouldn’t produce a bow wave.”

  “What the heck are you babbling about Roy?”

  “OK. You cannot see light because the ships travel in a warp bubble so all the photons stream around the ship rather than hitting the sensors. Yes?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “But you can suck light in by creating a micro gravity well and turn it so that it is hitting some of the sensors. And when I say turn it I realise that light travels in straight lines but it is affected by gravity and the gravity well bends the light towards the ship. The gravity well is microscopic so that I don’t get spattered against the side of the hull which is why the resolution is so poor. Do you think it could be of any use?”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “I didn’t think it was that bad. I know it’s a bit blurry but I thought...” Simon cut me off.

  “This is fantastic! This is a total revolution in space travel. Do you realise the implications of what you’ve done here?”

  “I didn’t think it was that good.”

  “You are nuts. This is brilliant and so simple. Some strategically placed micro sensors and a bit of software to clean up the image and I think we could have a new Hyper Travel navigation system.”

  “How long do you think all that will take?”

  “The basics could be a few years but the refinements should only take about hundred years.”

  “That long?”

  “By your life span that may seem a long time, it’s but a blink of the eyes for some species. Could you ask your computer to download all its data to the station and we can get to work on the problem of enhancing the image.”