Event Horizon

by Scott McElhaney

  “We are being threatened and supposedly we have been targeted. I am finding no evidence of a targeting device and sensors are revealing nothing of this threat.”

  Skylar stared at the message on the viewing panel. It read: “Your ship has been identified as a spacecraft of Earth origin. Due to an ongoing history of attack from Earth vessels, these ships as well as yours are no longer welcome in the Tau Ceti system. You are to leave this system immediately as we have targeted your GF generators and will destroy your ship if you do not comply. You have 24 Earth hours to bring your ship about and begin warp procedures out of this system.”

  “You said that you cannot locate any real targeting? Is this just a blind threat?”

  “I was wondering this, so I sent a question along the same frequency. I will show you their response.”

  He watched the message switch to another screen of text. It read: “You would not be able to identify a Curium stream launcher until it has launched its stream. You have less than 24 hours.”

  “What in the world is a Curium stream launcher?” Skylar asked.

  “In 2859, Galen Weisner theorized that if you could create a particle launcher to fire Curium 242, you could destroy any ship with GF generators. This theory was proven true, so this theoretical weapon was banned before it was ever created.”

  “So how do we know they can even make this weapon?”

  “Curium 242 is used extensively in compact thermo-ionic power cells. ISDC CetiDrifter would have stored thousands of these aboard. A smart physicist working alongside a nimble mechanic could theoretically create this weapon.”

  “I need an opinion here before they start shooting,” Skylar barked in frustration, pacing in front of the viewing panel.

  “We cannot afford to be wrong. I sent peaceful communications on all frequencies and all I get in return are the same threats.”

  “I can’t do another 13 years in space!” he shouted, “Do we have any form of defense against this weapon?”

  “The particle beam would shoot through everything. A single Curium particle inside the GF generators is all it takes.”

  “Why would the engines be so sensitive? What type of engineers do they have here in the future?”

  “Curium is not a natural element, so it would never be stumbled upon in nature. A Curium particle beam is even more unnatural. There is no way to get Curium into the GF generators in any other way because they are permanently sealed inside a six-inch wall of steel. Unless threatened by a terrorist with the right weapon, the engines are perfectly safe.”

  Skylar was becoming angrier with each passing moment. The computer’s courtroom defense of this “perfect” engineering was not helping matters at all.

  “So what do we do? I need solutions that do not involve 13 more years on this ghost liner.”

  “Assuming their only line of defense is a particle beam, you could jettison aboard the escape pod. This ten-man vessel runs on typical ion engines and can possibly take you the rest of the way to the surface, but we will need to conserve a lot of energy. There would never be a way to return.”

  “See, now that sounds like we have options,” Skylar stated, running his fingers through his hair, “That’s why I like you so much. Show me what I need to do.”

  “I ran some scenarios. To ensure that you have enough fuel to make it, we need to bring you as close as possible before the 24 hours expire. Then we will aim the escape pod directly at the planet. You will need to ride out the momentum of the launch for as long as possible before starting the ion engines. If we take all these steps, you should have just enough fuel to land safely.”

  Skylar nodded then propped himself against the Captain’s chair. He tapped his fingers and then stared at the distant planet on the viewing panel.

  “Lead me to the escape pod and I’ll load it with everything I can find.”

  . . . . .

  With less than two hours until the annihilation of the ISDC TauCeti, Skylar ducked through the hatch and into the escape pod. Boxes and bags were buckled securely into each of the nine other seats. He was intent on wanting for nothing down on that apparently hostile planet.

  “I think I’m ready to fly,” Skylar said.

  “Buckle yourself in and remember to wait an hour after jettison before engaging the engines,” the computer spoke from the passageway.

  “Why is your voice coming from out there? Aren’t there speakers in here?” Skylar asked.

  “There is no connection for me to install myself. There is a small shipboard computer aboard that should be able to assist you.”

  “What? You’re staying behind? But you’ll die.”

  “As I’ve stated many times, I am not alive.”

  “But you desire self-preservation. That makes you ‘alive’ to me. You… you’re my friend. I thought-”

  “And you also are my friend, Skylar Rains. I have enjoyed our time together. I don’t want you to be sad about this. On Earth, I was destined to sit around on the net forever with no one to talk to. You gave me companionship. One day, you would die and I would have been left alone again forever. This way, my forever will come to a halt. This is better than surviving forever alone.”

  “But-”

  “Think of it this way. If the particle beam was a lie, then I will still have command of this ship. I will land it on the planet near you and we can still be friends. If not, then I am still happy.”

  “I need you though. You’ve solved my problems and helped me so many times.”

  “This whining achieves nothing, my friend. How about this? As a parting gift, I will offer you one of those secrets that I know about you. This secret will be enough to keep you happy for a long time. Do you want to hear it?”

  Skylar stared out toward the passageway. He almost wanted to laugh. He never expected his heart to hurt this way over a computer.

  “Yes. Go ahead and tell me.”

  “The lady you refer to as Tiara. Do you remember that lady that kept appearing to you on Earth? She was real. I never saw her, but she was real and I know this for a fact. Don’t ask me how because I will not tell you anything more.”

  “Will I ever-”

  “Goodbye my good friend.”

  With that, the hatch shut automatically and the voice he simply knew as “computer” could no longer be heard. He stared at the hatch for a moment before the automated “seatbelt” warning spoke its robotic command.

  . . . . .

  “Why are you trying to get rid of me?” she asked him, gaping out of the small porthole.

  “Because you’re not real. I created you out of loneliness.” he grumbled.

  “But you heard what the computer said. I’m real.”

  “He was talking about the version of you that kept appearing to me on Earth. He specified that ‘she was real’. I never saw you again after I was kicked out of the reception.”

  “So like a child, you created an imaginary friend,” she stated, “There’s nothing wrong with that. Thirteen years with no interaction can mess anyone up. Why kick me out?”

  The craft jolted as it was thrust suddenly from the side of the ISDC TauCeti. He turned around and watched the massive ship drift further away through the small porthole.

  “I’ll keep you company until you meet some real people,” she said.

  “You’re not real. I created you so that I wouldn’t feel so bad about talking to myself all the time. It was an insane way to convince myself that I wasn’t going insane.”

  She stepped away from the porthole and sat down in the seat beside him – proof again that she wasn’t real. He had strapped a bag of clothing into that seat.

  “So, now that you feel sane, let’s talk about the real version of me. Do you think the computer was talking about that ghost on Earth like she was real at one time in the past? Or do you think he was saying that she was no ghost at all. Maybe the lady was currently real and trapped in another dimension. Like maybe that dimension kept-”

  “I think she w
as dead like everyone else on Earth. She talked to me about something that I never heard of – something I couldn’t have created from my own memory. She spoke of the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. I have to wonder if the person she took me to see was Jesus.”

  “So you were basically transported into the afterlife?” she asked.

  “Maybe. Perhaps Jesus returned to Earth one day and took everyone with Him. That would explain the lack of bodies.”

  “So then you believe in this Christian figure?”

  “No. Well, I mean I never did in the past. I don’t know what I believe. I know what I saw back there on Earth and the vivid detail was too real. It was like a perfect summer day at all times. It was like… like…” Skylar said, sifting through the memories.

  “Heaven?” she asked.

  “See, there you go again. You’re trying to bring philosophy into a universe bound by the laws of physics and science.”

  “But science is the study of the universe around us. It’s the study of things we can examine and measure physically. How else do you explain what you examined with your own eyes?” she asked.

  “How do I explain you?” he retorted.

  “You already did. You explained me as a psychotic creation of a lonely, withdrawn human being. Now explain to me what you saw on Earth.”

  “I can’t!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the armrest.

  “How do you explain the beautiful precision of all the details in the universe? How do you explain the masterfully created DNA strand? How do you explain the mathematical precision of every detail of our universe right down to the spin of the elementary particles?” she asked.

  “I guess that’s for you to explain. But if you want the atomic number for Plutonium, maybe I can help you.”

  “And this is exactly how you handle everything. This is why you’re a forty-five year old man with an imaginary friend. When someone asks you about something you can’t scientifically define, you shut the conversation down. I didn’t see you running away from that indescribable lady in that indescribable world.”

  He sighed and brought his hands up to his head, massaging his temples. He was still sane enough to realize why he always rubbed his head. As the years progressed, this woman started to seem more real. He began subconsciously rubbing his head all the time about four years ago. Perhaps he was trying to reach the part of his brain that would make her disappear.

  “Yeah, I get the hint. I’ll come back when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” she grumbled.

  He opened his eyes and she was gone. He then turned his attention to the porthole behind him. The sight beyond the porthole startled him and brought him quickly from his seat.

  Instead of seeing an interstellar craft fading in the distance, he only saw a smoky debris field expanding in all directions. Pieces of the ship were even headed toward him as his escape pod continued toward the planet.

  “No,” he whispered, staring out of the window.

  His word of disbelief was not going to change anything. For only a moment, he wondered why he didn’t hear the explosion. Despite what his favorite movies always portrayed, there was no sound in space.

  “Shield engaged,” a robotic voice alerted him.

  Portions of the ISDC TauCeti ricocheted off an unseen field just behind the escape pod. He continued to watch, though he didn’t understand why.

  . . . . .

  The days passed slowly in the tiny shuttle, leaving Skylar with little to do. Amidst several interruptions by his intangible friend, he chose to familiarize himself with the shipboard computer. It offered only a few games to keep him busy, but what interested him most was the detailed sensor array. Even at fifty-thousand miles away, he was able to perform multiple successful scans on the planet before him.

  Skylar was able to ascertain many useful bits of information. First, the planet was riddled with islands. Most of these islands were less than forty miles in diameter. There were three islands in the range of a hundred miles and the two largest islands near the equator were 446 miles and 257 miles at their widest.

  Both of the largest islands showed evidence of colonization. He located the landing dome of the ISDC CetiDrifter on the 257-mile island, though it wasn’t easy. The dome itself was overgrown with moss and other vegetation.

  The scan revealed 296 manmade structures on the 257-mile island and 31 on the 446-mile island. He even managed to locate a shipyard on the smaller island with two surprisingly large ships moored to the pier. The sight warmed his heart as he imagined the growth of this transplanted community. It was one thing to live together on a ship, but quite another to live and work together as a community. The sights on his viewing panel spoke of success.

  It was only when he ran the next scan that his heart dropped and the smile disappeared. He scanned the planet for signs of the heat signatures that would identify human life. After a minute, the scan came back negative.

  He typed in several other commands into his console, searching for other identifying features. He tried searching for other heat signatures such as fire, electronic devices, or simply a toaster oven. The only heat signatures belonged to that of the solar-power generators, multiple computer terminals, and an active communications array. There were no signs of warm-blooded biological life whatsoever.

  6

  Citizens of Ephraim

  The escape pod descended to the surface without incident. The weather on the surface was ideal for landing a shuttle. The winds were minimal and temperatures remained in the upper 60’s. He brought the shuttle down into the center of the 296-home community, assuming that no one would mind his intrusion.

  The shuttle settled nicely on what Skylar believed to be a basketball court. There were two poles supporting wooden backboards and the rusted remains of hoops. The ground beneath the shuttle was overgrown with thick weeds and grass, but a scan revealed smooth, flat concrete hidden just inches below.

  He stepped out of the shuttle and squinted in the light of Tau Ceti. He tried to block out the sun with his hand as he peered around at the houses nearby. The air, he noticed, was thin and required him to breathe deeper breaths.

  “Hello?” he shouted.

  He didn’t truly expect an answer, but it was worth a try. Even from where he stood, he could see how well the houses were built. The sturdiness of the homes suggested quality craftsmanship. Even so, the buildings appeared to be neglected. He could already see the green ivy twisting itself upward along the walls and around the second story windows. Weeds sprouted from the gutters and the cracks in the roofs.

  Skylar found himself in a world as dead and forsaken as the one he just left. The only difference was - this world wasn’t cold and splintered. The evidence pointed not to devastation, but simply to neglect.

  . . . . .

  He had to grin all of a sudden as he pushed the front door open. He found it to be sadly funny how none of doors had locks. This would be his fourth trespass into a house on this planet. The first home revealed the existence of a large family with four children, all presumably under the age of maybe ten. In that house, there were toys strewn about two of the bedrooms, a decoratively engraved cradle in the parent’s room, and even a fungus-covered baby bottle resting in a pan on the stove. The second home he infiltrated belonged to an older couple, probably in their sixties or seventies. The woman of the house was fascinated with beautiful quilts which she probably made herself. The third home belonged to a widower who probably lost his wife at a young age. The photographs and books in the house spoke of loneliness and longing that he probably kept hidden from his friends.

  The people were easy to read through the clothing, photos, toys, and journals that they had left behind. The previous three houses revealed to him that this was a happy community. Even the widower, whose tools identified him as a plumber, appeared to live a life of contentment in spite of the troubles. The brittle photos he discovered revealed a society of fellowship, friendship, and trust.

  This, the fourth house, appar
ently belonged to a young couple. He made this assumption based on the framed photograph on the wall of the living room as well as the wedding photo propped on the fireplace mantle. While he was examining that particular wedding photo, he noticed something unusual near his right foot. He knelt down to pick up the little rectangular object. Upon closer examination, he discovered it to be a box of wooden matches, not very different from the matches of his own century. What intrigued him however was not the box of matches, but instead the single wooden matchstick on the floor about two feet away. His eyes moved from that lonely matchstick to the open screen of the fireplace. Three logs were stacked nicely on the grate inside the firebox.

  He reached out and picked up the matchstick, blowing the dust from it. It had never been struck. He stared at the logs for a moment and then rose from the floor. The clues he found in these homes continued to confuse him further. Something must have startled these people enough to cause a hasty retreat or exodus of some sort. People dropped whatever they were doing and they ran. But where did they run to?

  Skylar shoved the box of matches into his pocket then started toward the hall. He ambled slowly down the hallway and gently pushed the door open to a small bedroom.

  The house didn’t seem to offer any amount of luxury, but then none of the houses really did. A large bed took up the majority of the available space in this small bedroom. His eyes were drawn immediately to a thick book on the corner of the bed. Upon closer examination, he recognized it as a Bible, quite similar to those of his own era. The leather binding was severely worn and cracked, but the words “Holy Bible” could still be read.

  He sat down on the bed, turned the Bible to him, and brushed the dust from the cover. Then he opened the first page and discovered what appeared to be an inscription. It resembled more of a history of the book’s owner. The Bible must have been an heirloom. The names inside read: “Autumn & Chasen, Lynnette & Doug, Sarah”