The Chapel was located in a dome-shaped auditorium a short distance behind the Pathfinder’s Command Dome. It had been a short walk for her after going off shift but she had still arrived a few minutes late and had almost missed getting a seat. Fortunately Dennis and Joseph had made room for her or she would have had to sit in one of the extra chairs that had been hastily set up at the rear of the large room. They had quickly filled in after she sat down, giving the Chaplain a full house to talk to.
Standing prominently alongside one of the large, open exits near the rear of the Chapel was a statue of Jesus Christ with his arms open and extended in greeting. Half of the traditional ‘stations of the cross’ lined the left wall of the dome next to her, situated equally apart all the way to the altar at the head of the Chapel. Images of the remaining stations hung along the right side of the dome all the way back to the second doorway behind her. Between the images were tall, thin stained-glass windows through which the stars of space were mostly screened. There was, however, an oval skylight above them that allowed an attractive view of the heavens beyond. Other artwork in the Chapel included colorful, decorative wall hangings, handmade banners suspended from the light fixtures that descended from the ceiling, and a series of tall candles that adorned the altar itself.
Mary sat quietly for a few minutes longer, unable to leave just yet. Her thoughts were focused on her two brothers and sister – wondering if any of them could possibly still be alive back in Kansas. She noticed that others had stayed behind, too… still seated at various points in the auditorium and saying silent prayers to themselves or crying gently. Her good friends Julie and Nori had been unable to attend due to being on-shift at the time of the ceremony, so she concluded her silent prayer by wishing their families good luck too. Glen had also not shown up, and that disappointed her more than anything. As she stood to leave she noticed Corporal Henderson, his left arm protected in the new cast and sling, smiling at her. He walked over and politely said hello.
“Praying for your family?” Mary asked, slightly uncomfortable as to just what to say to others after such a hideous tragedy. Adults of all sorts had been talking around the uncomfortable truths they had recently faced all day. That was the challenge after all, during a crisis like this one. Offer comfort, but do so tactfully by at least partially ignoring the brutal violence that they had been witness to.
“Yes, and also saying thanks to God for sparing our lives,” the Corporal responded quickly. “I’m still not sure if I believe in Intelligent Design or evolution or the possibility that a predestined plan might already exist for each of us, but after yesterday I’m even more confused than ever!”
Despite the sad occasion, Mary smiled, recognizing him. “You’re the Corporal they sent along in the shuttle to Bravo Point yesterday.” She offered him her hand.
“I am,” replied Henderson. “Corporal Benjamin Henderson at your service.” He shook her hand firmly. “Pictures can give you a very detailed idea of what’s out there, but you wouldn’t believe what that trip was like,” he said firmly. “As far as we could see everything was so absolutely black and empty – then whammo – the ship changed its position and there were these Galaxy clusters that just looked so… so huge and beautiful and organized and… created.”
“I’ve seen the pictures,” Mary commented. “Even if they are simple photos, it is quite spectacular.”
“It’s a sign, I’m telling you,” insisted Ben. “It’s a sign that we were meant to survive – us having the technology to travel like that right when all hell breaks loose.”
“Be careful Ben,” warned Mary. “It’s good to have faith, but any counselor will tell you that developing the spiritual part of yourself takes time. There are a lot of people on this ship right now who feel the exact opposite of the way you do because they’re still in emotional shock from all that’s happened. They’re blaming God for abandoning us.”
“It’s tough on me, too. I’ve been temporarily reassigned to lighter duty,” he commented. “I can’t stand just sitting in my quarters doing nothing… and to top it off this cast just keeps itching to no end.” He rubbed the covering on his left arm for emphasis.
“Then volunteer for something during your off duty hours,” Mary suggested. “The Lab and Observatory wing personnel have a lot of extra work right now, storing and processing all the new data we’ve received. The Canary probes and your trip recorded an awful lot. Even if someone assigns you simple busy work it’ll keep you from worrying too much and you’ll be contributing something back. Or…” she paused, thinking through the possibilities, “You could visit the kids in their school rooms. I know for a fact that they’re still holding classes because the Captain’s son attends. I’m sure they’d love to hear what it’s like to be a rough and tough Corporal who took on a member of the Brotherhood.”
“There were four of us,” Ben pointed out, chuckling. He quickly added, “But I got the best grip on him and he got the best grip on me. That’s why I was the one who landed against the wall! So I guess you could say I was the closest of anybody to capturing him alive.”
They continued to chat for a bit, but were unexpectedly interrupted by raised voices from the rear of the Chapel. Turning, they noticed that the Chaplain was doing his very best to calm down an angry, red-faced civilian male. Their curiosity raised, both walked back to join the two.
“What seems to be the problem here, Father Dixon?” Ben asked carefully, watching the frustrated civilian out of the corner of his eye.
“This fellow belongs to a religious sect that doesn’t recognize traditional Christian symbols,” the Priest explained cautiously. “So he’s naturally a little bit upset that this is the only Chapel aboard the Pathfinder.” He shrugged helplessly and addressed the angry looking man. “Give us time to set up additional areas…”
“How am I supposed to worship my God with those other pagan images in here?” the man exclaimed loudly. “It’s absolutely outrageous I tell you!” Ben watched the man work himself up to an even angrier state, then cautiously tapped him on the shoulder.
“Do you mean to tell me,” the Corporal asked carefully, “that Earth has suffered a nuclear annihilation, we’re out here fighting for our lives, and you’re upset because the ship that saved you has a few statues you don’t like in its Church? Do I understand you correctly, sir?”
“Yes!” the man shouted back heatedly. He took a second look at Ben’s sizable frame and lowered his voice slightly. “Yes. My spirituality requires complete lack of distraction while I meditate – something that is practically impossible in a setting such as this.”
“Why don’t you close your eyes while you’re in here, then,” the Corporal suggested. “Or better yet, meditate in your quarters. That would eliminate the problem.”
“This is a public Chapel. It’s supposed to be open for use by everyone. They shouldn’t have any Christian images in here as far as I’m concerned. Otherwise those other related religions are validated as legitimate, and that’s something my sect does not permit.”
“They are legitimate. The Pathfinder’s Chapel reflects the entire ship’s crew,” Mary argued softly. “We have representatives from many nations and every major religion aboard. There are even people serving with us who don’t believe in God… they still come here to meditate or ask the Father’s advice. Our Chapel was intentionally designed to acknowledge, respect and honor the religious beliefs of everyone on our project team. It’s a reminder of everything that Earth has been historically and respects today’s modern blend of cultures.” She gestured toward a stone replica of the Ten Commandments. “Like you, many people have a favorite religion that they subscribe to.” She paused for a moment, trying and failing to understand the man’s point of view. “This Chapel is a tribute to your faith as well. Send us a symbol or two, and I’m sure that the Chaplain will find a place for them.”
The man pointed toward the altar. “I can’t meditate in there,” he snapped. “And being on this ship is not
my fault. I was supposed to have been transferred off of Khyber Base a month ago, but there was a delay in assigning a replacement for me.”
“You’re really something else, you know that?” growled Ben irritably. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment. You should consider yourself lucky to be alive.” He shook his head before continuing. “If you can’t meditate in the Chapel, that’s just fine and dandy by me. Do it in your quarters. Move along.” He nodded to Father Dixon and turned to leave.
“Did you hear me? I can’t meditate in there! I demand that you do something about it!” the man repeated. He grabbed the Father’s arm seconds before Ben slapped the hand away and stepped ominously in front of him.
“Did you hear me?” the Corporal asked. “I said move along – now!” He pointed toward the exit and the angry man slowly began edging cautiously backward. “If I hear that you’ve bothered Father Dixon again, I’m going to come find you and show you an alternative form of meditation… it’s called unconsciousness! Do you understand me, fella?”
“Yes, sir.” The man said, frowning deeply. He turned and stormed off in a huff. The Corporal stood shaking his head, then turned back to the Father. “It looks like there’s a bad apple in every bunch,” he noted.
“There are a lot of people on board who are just as upset,” Father Dixon replied. “They don’t know if their families are alive or dead, where they’ll end up next, or even what their lives will be like in the near future…” He flashed a wan smile. “I don’t think it’s the little things they complain about that are truly bothering them – it’s the larger possibility that everyone they knew and loved may be dead.”
“The stress comes out as anger displaced onto other, normally minor things,” Mary agreed. She chuckled to herself. “I’ve been bothered by little things too that I would normally just shrug off and just deal with.”
“Yes, but you and those other people aren’t making a public nuisance of yourselves,” stated Henderson. “Right now we need people to behave themselves, not stir up a pot of trouble over nothing.” He pointed toward the exit behind them. “If that guy gives you any more trouble, you just let me know,” he said firmly. “I mean that.”
“Don’t worry,” the Chaplain said confidently. “Part of my job is to listen to people get rid of the negative emotions that are bothering them. It’s not the first time someone’s had harsh words for me and it won’t be the last.” He paused, smiling warmly. “So many people are still under the mistaken impression that the symbols you pray to or how often you go to Church are the most important things. I do believe in important family and Church traditions, but I’ve also tried to remind people that giving reasonably of their time, treasure, and talent should be our biggest priority. The more we help and care for each other, the better off society will be as a whole.”
Ben glanced out the exit after the angry man who had just left. “Not everyone shares your enlightenment, Father,” he observed wryly.
* * * * *
It wasn’t until Glen put his hand on Thomas Roh’s shoulder that the young Software Specialist realized he had been staring at the same sentence on his computer screen for quite some time. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, absently rubbing his forehead to clear his thoughts. Glancing up at Glen, he tried flashing a friendly smile but still couldn’t conceal the fatigue that he felt.
“I think you should go and get some rest, young Thomas,” Glen suggested. He sat down next to the younger man. “You know as well as I do that bad sleeping habits increase the probability of error.”
“I agree,” Thomas replied. “Unfortunately, as my brother Adam is so fond of pointing out – rarely does rest get work done.”
“You are not your brother,” countered Glen. “Your body is telling you it needs a break, and I think that you should seriously consider getting something to eat in one of the galleys and then turning in for a few hours.” He held up his hands. “After all, I’m here. I have a couple of hours left on my shift and fresh personnel just came on board. Trust me, we can handle things.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Thomas said absently, trying to rub the tension from his neck. “There are still two shuttles not working properly… the larger ones. I was planning on taking a look at their software.”
“It can wait. This was your priority, and the rest of this project is downhill from here,” said Glen reassuringly. “We’ve got everything working according to specifications… so try and take it easy a little bit. You’ve been running full steam since the attack and your next scheduled shift isn’t until tomorrow morning – so get out of here and go get some sleep!”
“Make sure the refinery technicians continue their enhancements,” cautioned Thomas. “I signed off on the last of the paperwork so they should be on it within the hour.” He paused, glancing around the spacious Laboratory at its complex equipment and busily working personnel. “If we continue to use the CAS Drive we’re going to continue using the Canary probes too. Since they use liquid propellant to power their thrusters, an increase in our reserve supply should be one of the next priorities.”
“I’ll be sure to check on them,” Glen promised, watching the young scientist head toward the exit hatches at the ‘top’ of the wing.
THE PATHFINDER PROJECT
Chapter VI: Flux Control
Two days later there were still no friendly communications of any kind detectable. Captain Kaufield continued to hold status meetings at least once a day, where options were reviewed and possibilities discussed. They could not, however, dismiss the large number of civilian scientists and families on board. The Pathfinder was a ship of exploration… every debate came right back to that simple fact. To try and mount some kind of attack against a trained, disciplined military with as many unknowns as the Brotherhood was simply impossible. If they stayed where they were they would eventually be discovered. If they tried to approach Earth to look for survivors and provide relief they would almost certainly invite an immediate attack.
Many people were starting to show definite signs of stress, frustration and fatigue. The Captain had naturally observed this and discussed the situation with Dr. Simmons. Her advice had been to evaluate the situation until he was certain of the facts and could make informed decisions. To let anyone rush him – and his command crew – into quick choices would only invite disaster. In his spare time, off-shift and in his quarters with Joseph, he took a few minutes to pray for guidance. He didn’t realistically expect any divine help, but his spirituality had strengthened since the death of Joseph’s mother and he wanted to continue maturing as a Dad. Sorting through his thoughts and taking a few minutes now and then to reflect helped him keep things in perspective. He also made certain to take advantage of the opportunity to laugh and joke with his son.
He had noticed in life that you could never indefinitely delay a tough choice. As his own father had told him repeatedly as a kid, “Failing to make a decision is itself a decision. It is a decision to do nothing.” Sometimes just moving from one day to the next could also change a situation’s perspective. Life, as a whole, sometimes demonstrated the unique tendency to evolve on its own. This proved to be the case for the crew of the Pathfinder on the fifth day after the attack.
Early in the morning on that day a general alarm sounded. Kaufield was already dressed and preparing to head for the Command Dome so it took him only seconds to finish putting on his jacket. He quieted a sleepy Joseph and urged him to stay in bed for now – Dennis promised to stop by and check on him later. The Captain exited his quarters and headed toward the lifts at the front of the ship. As he strode briskly along the moving sidewalk he could see the look of concern on the faces of the people moving past him to his left. Above them on speakers he could hear Mary using the all-call, urging civilians to return to their quarters for their own safety.
“Status?” he inquired, striding quickly onto the Command Dome and taking his seat.
“We’re receiving a distress call, sir,” Mary repor
ted, glancing cautiously back at him. “The language is Chinese and it appears to be an automatically repeating beacon of some sort. The message states very clearly that they have survivors and are asking for any nearby ship to rendezvous and attempt rescue.”
“When did it start?” asked Kaufield. He stroked his chin, extremely intrigued by this news. It was the first communication of any kind since the aftermath of the attack on Earth.
“We began receiving it ten minutes ago. They say they were able to escape from the initial attack but ran out of supplies and had no choice but to come back.”
“Distance to target?”
“The signal is originating from a point inside our solar system, approximately 4.63 light minutes away. The transmission is confirmed as Chinese, and as far as I can tell it appears to be civilian.”
Pathfinder Schematic (Side & Top Views)
“Opinions?” the Captain queried. How often did a situation instantaneously change from a waiting game into a decision game? Dennis didn’t know for certain, but it had happened right now and it would no doubt happen again.
“It has to be a trap!” Adam said, frowning in frustration from his station across from Mary. “It just has to be. After all this time you’re telling me that they transited back into a combat zone looking for groceries?”
“Wouldn’t you, if your people were starving to death?” inquired Dennis.
“Captain, it’s a trap,” insisted Adam. “Everyone on this side of the sun has picked up that transmission by now. If it is legit they’re going to lure Brotherhood vessels right to them.”
“We are required to respond to distress signals by naval tradition,” the Captain reminded everyone sternly. “It seems to me the longer we wait the more likely we will encounter the enemy.” He touched the Comm-link on the arm of his chair. “Thomas, prepare to implement Contingency Plan Delta. We have a situation up here and I want the CAS Drive revved up to full capacity immediately.”
The Pathfinder Project Page 9
