by Dane Bagley
“So they’ve given you your own ship, huh? What’s this place coming to, anyway?” said Mike West, one of the top-notch mechanics on Stardust 20.
“They’re letting the Captain and pilot each handpicks one crew member,” replied Steve Jenners, the recently-promoted Captain of the ‘Galaxy Charger,’ one of the new ZX-120’s.
“So how did you and Spearman get hooked up?”
“I don’ know; assigned, I guess. You know him, don’t you?”
“A little; he’s a good pilot, takes his job real seriously. He’s well-liked for an older guy. Probably not a bad idea putting a young punk like you with older, experienced, and more mature guys,” Mike remarked, only halfway joking.
Mike West was a little older than Steve, thirty-four, while Steve was twenty-seven. Mike was of average looks, with brown, straight hair and light brown eyes. He was about six feet tall and very slender. He did not look very strong, though that was deceiving. He was by far one of the best mechanics, or engine specialists, in the Space Force; indispensable in that capacity. He was very much a perfectionist in everything he did. But he also had a very witty and dry sense of humor, and he was a very loyal friend once his trust was gained.
Steve Jenners, on the other hand, was more reckless and ambitious. He was a natural-born leader. Steve was good-looking, tall, and well-built. He had blond hair, with a light wave, and bright blue eyes.
“I seem to detect a bit of jealousy here.”
“I did think that I was up for a Captain promotion. I don't think it was so much a lack of qualification, as them not wanting to lose their best mechanic,” Mike commented as he put his tools down and faced Steve. Mike had been playing with a full scale model of the ZX-120 engine. The engines were new, and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
“I can't disagree with you there; you don't think I picked you because you are such a pleasant person to be around, do you?” They both chuckled and Steve put his right hand on Mike’s shoulder. In reality, Steve would have picked Mike even if his technical skills were not so extraordinary. They had both been on the same crew for their last mission. Mike was the engine specialist, and Steve was the pilot. They had developed a deep friendship and respect for one another. Although Steve was thrilled to be a Captain, he did feel somewhat intimidated. He knew that he was one of the youngest Captains ever promoted, and that his performance would be watched closely. He wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by those he was familiar with and trusted; skill and technical prowess were also greatly appreciated. Although a little nervous, his ambition was no less intense, and he wanted to do well.
“So who’s Kenny picking, his navigator?”
“I suppose so; we'll find out soon enough,” Steve replied, not thinking much of the question. Kenny Spearman was a forty-one-year-old pilot. He’d had a late start on his career, but was one of the best on the force. He, too, was up for a Captain promotion, and was likely to get it next time. But the powers that be thought that he would be the perfect counterpart to their new, less experienced Captain. Kenny was very much a team player, and was more than happy to serve wherever requested. He was serious and level-headed, but good-natured and approachable.
“The four of us are having dinner in Captains dining, in an hour. We'll find out who else is assigned on the crew tomorrow.” This would be Steve’s first official meeting with crew members as the Captain. He was excited, a little giddy, and he was anxious to get a few things done before dinner. “See you in a bit.”
“Aye, Aye, Cap’n,” Mike replied with a wink and a smile.
Steve headed down the corridor towards his living quarters. The main corridor ran in a complete circle around the middle of the spherical main body of the space station. Rooms were to his left towards center, and the living quarters were to his right on the surface of the main body, so that each room had one window looking out into space. The station rotated around about every two hours, and the sights were marvelous to behold. The station was in orbit around the moon of a large gas giant planet in a galaxy far from the Milky Way. The planet had a large horizontally situated ring from the perspective of Stardust 20, and another smaller, vertical ring whose orbit was much closer to the surface of the planet. The moon had no atmosphere, and was about sixty percent of the size of earth’s moon, dark brown in color. It did not have any craters, but rather lines of mountain ranges. They looked like the swirls on the top of a large piece of a boxed chocolate. Though officially it, like its planet, had a large technical name with letters and numbers like all of the heavenly bodies discovered, it was lovingly referred to as the dark chocolate moon by everyone on the space station. The planet had a pale green appearance with white cloud like whorls. However, depending on its orientation relative to the distant star it was orbiting, it sometimes had a lighter yellow or darker blue hue. So, throughout the station’s two-hour rotation, the scene through one’s window would change from views of the moon, to views of the planet with a glimpse of its star, to a full, spellbinding star-scape against a pitch black sky. It was breathtaking, to say the least.
Coming around the corridor, one of the civilian girls was walking in the direction towards Steve. He had noticed her around a couple of times before, as she was very beautiful. She had long, curly, red hair, and strikingly blue eyes. Her head was slightly down, and she was looking away from him, so he looked directly at her nametag—Tammy Rogers, Medical and Research. She looked up and over at Steve, and smiled as they passed. She was even prettier than he thought. I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind about Mike; Tammy Rogers would make a perfect handpicked member of my crew, he joked to himself as he headed to his quarters.
Captain’s quarters were tiny, but single occupancy, rather than dual occupancy like the lower-ranked quarters. It consisted of a fold-down bed that doubled as a desk, a couple of drawers, and a tiny closet. With the bed up, it was conceivable to change one’s clothes, but not comfortably. With the bed up, the desk revealed a small built-in computer. Steve sat on his small stool and turned his computer on. He wrote an email, and filed a couple of reports. The Internet was not complete to the space station yet. It would still be a while before a fully-functional, nearly instantaneous Internet would be available in space; the technology was incomplete. Sending electrical signals at the speed of light through fourth-dimensional space was possible, effectively making communications from anywhere for all intents and purposes without delay. But the ability to do this was new, and at the moment expensive, so it was fairly limited in capacity. The space station sent and received signals constantly, but sometimes it would be hours before something, like an email, got to the front of the queue. They would receive portions of the Internet daily, and then make those pages immediately accessible on space station computers. It was even possible to have telephone conversations with earth, but because of bandwidth limitations, it was not ordinarily done. The Captains were told earlier that day that they would each be permitted one fifteen-minute phone call, and were given a schedule for their call. As the bandwidth increased, it was expected that every room would have a useable phone, and instantaneous Internet, email, and television.
After checking the latest news on the L.A. Dodgers, Steve changed into his formal Captain’s attire, and headed out to Captain’s dining for dinner. Showing up a little early, and expecting to be the first there, he was taken aback by seeing, already seated, Kenny Spearman and another man whom he was not familiar with. He headed towards the table and before he knew it, the two men stood to attention and saluted him.
“Captain Jenners, this is James Smith,” spoke Kenny.
“Pleased to meet you, Captain Jenners,” replied James. James was a thirty-two-year-old black man. He had moderately dark skin, very short hair, and two small vertical scars on his left check. His head was somewhat big and long, and he had a very sober expression on his face. Kenny, on the other hand, had a warmer expression on his face. Kenny had light brow
n, curly hair that was now more gray than brown. He wore a full beard, about half an inch long, that had the exact same coloration as his hair. He had a large build, and a large head with particularly large hands, but he was neither overweight nor very tall, about 5'11".
“Pleased to meet you, too,” Steve replied. Just then Mike walked up. “Hey, Mike, this is James Smith, and you know Kenny Spearman.”
Mike shook both of their hands. “I sure do. How’re you doing? I know James, too, but I thought you were a computer guy?”
“He sure is, the best in the business,” interjected Kenny. “I jumped at the chance to have James on board with me,” he said, obviously wanting Steve to be pleased with his selection.
“Let’s sit down,” said Steve, and the four men settled down to a bit of ice-breaking, and some jockeying for position. John Carryman, one of the most experienced and celebrated Captains on the Space Force, walked in the room and headed over to Steve’s table.
“Captain Jenners, looks like your first crew’s shaping up. Well, I wish you the best on your maiden voyage.” He scanned the table for a moment, and then with a look of concern stated, “Looks like you've surrounded yourself with the best; but where is your navigator?”
“We’ll be assigned one tomorrow,” Steve answered beginning to feel uncomfortable both in Captain Carryman’s presence, and by this recurring theme and concern.
“There aren’t many left to choose from; most everyone has been assigned already. I’d hate to think who’s left,” he said matter-of-factly, and yet condescendingly.
Steve, feeling a bit belittled, embarrassed, and now defensive, wanted to explain himself. At first he wanted to tell why Mike was so invaluable, then how he would have expected Kenny to get a navigator—which he almost did—but realizing how Kenny was so pleased to have James on board, and seeing that it would be insulting to both Kenny and James, and further knowing how making excuses would make him look weak in front of his subordinates, he sat silent for a moment. He then replied, “We may not get the most experienced navigator, but we have good navigational experience between us; I think we’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.”
“You do have some great expertise here. Captain Jenners, men: best of luck to you.”
“Thank you’s”, and “best of luck to you, also” rang from the table as Captain Carryman went to the other end of the dining hall. The dining hall was like a glorified school cafeteria. Attempts were made to give it an upper echelon appearance, but eating there made one feel more like they were in grade school, then having a fine dining experience.
For a few minutes the conversation that had not really began, was already quenched. James, who had a good sense about him, and a delightful social tact, punctured the silence. “Captain Jenners, I'm real proud to be a part of your crew. I've heard real good things about you, and I plan on makin’ you proud. I think there is a good chance that one of these missions will be successful.”
“Let me tell you a little about James, Captain,” Kenny followed. “James is a large part of the reason that these ZX-120’s were designed the way that they are. They’re designed to analyze living cultures; aliens. James has been very successful in analyzing the readouts, and he has found several potential spots to investigate; systems that have planets, likely with the characteristics to support life. He’s presented convincing enough evidence that before sending a ship out there, they wanted to be ready for the event that we find what we are looking for. This planet and moon we’re orbiting, James found.”
“There are some systems out there that I've caught some weak signals from that don’t seem random. I’m hoping that we get assigned to one of those systems.” The excitement was obviously boiling within him. Here was a man that was doing what he was doing for the pure love of it. He was not looking for promotion, or even recognition; just accomplishment.
“The man’s got a nose for this type of thing; if there is intelligent life out there—James is going to find it.”
The computer specialist, besides helping the pilot and navigator in getting to the right place, and keeping the systems running, was responsible for the research astronomy. The computer specialist was to analyze the raw data that was constantly being gathered. Considered a very technical job by most, James somehow was able to read between the lines, and see patterns beyond the formulas. He made predictions that were not possible based on the level of accuracy of the measurements he would make, and then they would pan out to be true. He too was indispensable in his position, but he had no desire to be promoted to something else. He was doing what he loved, and was well-respected for it.
Steve and Mike had been silent, listening. Both of them were feeling a tinge of remorse. Mike’s motivation was to execute his assignment with flawless perfection, and he wanted the personal recognition. Steve was seeking personal success: advanced ranks, praise, and glory. Neither Steve nor Mike had thought much of the ultimate success of the mission: finding intelligent alien life. Steve had thought it would be his job to motivate the crew to a successful mission, doing what was expected. But here he was confronted by two men who wanted the ultimate goal of the missions realized. He was already beginning to feel that he was the student here, and not the teacher. Besides this, he was starting to feel unsettled about the situation without a navigator.
Mike knew a little more of James and Kenny, and their passion for their work. But he was taken aback by the expectation that first, alien life existed, and second, that we were close to finding it. “So you really think they are out there?”
“Yeah, I don’t see why not. We’re only just beginning to narrow in on places that have potential, but we are going to find something out there. Whether it’s advanced or intelligent, I don’t know, but those signals I’ve seen are uncanny.”
“James has shown me some of his stuff,” interrupted Kenny. “The Space Force is real serious about it too—with these ZX-120’s.”
Steve was starting to feel excited. He had initially joined the Space Force hoping in the back of his mind that he would be a part of something exciting like this. But in the daily routine, he had lost sight of it until now. The dinner arrived, and it looked good. Better than normal rations.
“Eat up gentlemen, thrilling times are ahead,” Steve exclaimed with an air of confidence. He wanted to re-assert his role of leader, and not follower. Plus, he, too, was feeling a renewed sense of destiny. Lighter conversation followed, and as they began to wind up the meal Steve gave his first orders, “Meet me in the sky dome at 5:30 AM, dressed and ready to go. I will have a printout of the rest of our crew assignments, and our mission. I’m sure each of you wants the info as soon as it’s available. Plus, I want the remainder of the crew to understand how seriously we take our work. We’re going to get this off on the right foot.”
Steve had trouble sleeping. He tried closing his eyes for a while, but his mind was racing too quickly. So he laid and stared out his window for a very long time. With new eyes he gazed at the planet, the moon, and the stars. A boyhood excitement filled him, and he thought about what he was about to embark on. Not the particulars that had recently so encumbered his mind, but rather the big picture. He thought about what he was doing in the same way that his little brother Mark thought of it. He began to think of Mark, and was excited to talk to him tomorrow. He knew that he was bigger than life in that boys mind, and he wanted his little brother to be so proud of him. Slowly the melatonin overcame the rapid synaptic firings, and he drifted into a peaceful, though shallow, sleep.
The alarm blasted at 4:45 AM and it felt as if his eyes had just shut. At the same time his heart raced with excitement. His full crew, mission, and all the details he desired would be on his email in fifteen minutes. He hurried and showered, then got dressed. Overall, things seemed quiet around him, and he figured that he was just getting an earlier start than most of the Captains. At 5:00 AM the email had not yet arrived, so he finished hi
s hair, shaved, and made sure that he was all together. 5:07 AM, it arrived and he sent it directly to the printer. His grandpa had returned his email from yesterday, and they were awaiting his phone call later. The reports were printed for each crew member, and he grabbed the stack and headed to the Skylab. He certainly wanted to be early, and was hoping to beat everyone there this time.
He was out of luck again. He arrived at 5:20 AM, and everyone was there in full uniform, sitting on some sofas near the back observation window. The planet and moon were not in sight through the large window, but instead, the most perfect star-scape imaginable was in full view. The men stood to greet him, and he quickened his pace to hand them each a packet with the details.
“How does it look?” asked Kenny with a smile and some enthusiasm.
“I just got it printed and headed up here; I haven’t had a chance to look,” he said as he handed Kenny, then Mike, and finally James their papers.
James raced past the crew information, and started to read the details of their mission. Steve went right to the crew info: Steve Jenners, Captain, okay, skip, Kenny Spearman, Pilot, uh-huh, skip, third ranking officer, Navigator - Bob Merick, never heard of him. Promoted to Navigator date—today?—three previous missions as Secretary? Well-liked, no Navigational experience, twenty-six years old. He looked up to see what the other men thought of their navigator, but they were much more concerned with where they were going, than who they were going with. James had what appeared to be a look of despair on his face.
Kenny, the consummate team player, said as cheery as possible, “Looks like were headed to an uncharted region.”
“Not analyzed, either,” interjected James, trying to sound unaffected. “It looks like they want my skills put to the test again. I thought I might get to take it to the next level this time.”
“With this distance, it sounds like they want to put my engine to the test, also,” Mike said with some excitement.
“What do you think of our Navigator; new guy we're training?” asked Steve.
Kenny rummaged through the papers and then got a concerned expression on his face, “Bob Merick, huh?”
“Do you know him?” Steve inquired.
“Yeah, I know Bob. He was Secretary on a mission of mine, six…seven months ago,” he answered.
“What’s he like?”
“Oh, he’s a real nice guy. I’m just surprised to see he’s a navigator.”
“He may be surprised, as well,” said Mike. “He just got promoted today, and he may not be up yet.” Mike continued to scour the papers.
“Do you think he will be alright?” asked Steve wanting the full story, not just the abstract.
“He’ll have to be. It’s just that he didn’t seem interested in that sort of thing. He was so excited to be in the Space Force, and on a mission; but he was never interested in the technical details.”
“It’s not easy navigating in areas that haven’t been analyzed. You have to watch what’s going on almost without blinking,” stated James. “We’ll all have to be on our toes.”
“Looks like you are going to have your strange life form to analyze, James. We’ve got a civilian on board,” said Mike.
“I can see that. And it’s a female of the species. So this could be interesting—a Ms. Tammy Rogers, of the medical and research division. She’ll probably be running the lab, but without some specimens, she’ll not be very busy,” retorted James.
“Maybe she can cook. We’ve got a brand new guy for secretary, Danny Wang. He’s only twenty-three, and it’s his first mission,” Kenny commented. Kenny always appreciated having a good cook, which fell under the secretary’s duties.
Steve, who was having a hard time getting past his navigator woes, hardly noticed when James mentioned Tammy’s name; but the brain cells that held this audible message in memory successfully brought it to consciousness. Tammy Rogers, that’s the pretty girl I've been noticing around here! he thought to himself, and he felt excited again; allowing his concerns about the navigator, temporarily, to leave him.
For the next forty-five minutes they continued to pore over their mission notes, and discuss the details. James’ spirits were lifted as they joked and commented together. A feeling of camaraderie was there, and a general sense that this crew would work well together seemed to be felt by all.
“Well, it's about 6:30, so I think I will go introduce myself to the rest of the crew and give them their papers,” Steve said, getting up.
“You’d better go see Bob and Danny first,” said Kenny. “Civilians don’t have to be up so early, and a young lady might not appreciate the first interview with her Captain if it’s before she’s made herself up for the day.”
“Alright, well, we’ll see you all at 4:00 for our crew meeting.”
“Sounds good Captain” and “See you later” rang the chorus.
Chapter 9
