* * * *
"We christen thee Aristarchus," finished Pilot. The impact of the champagne bottle was little more than a light thud, but the crystalline shards reflecting the sunlight provided a dazzling show. He floated in the central core of the ship, looking through the great window of the pilot's berth. Six others floated in the core with him, admiring the view from the great window. All applauded at the end of his speech. Others aboard the ship watched the champagne bottle strike from other forward windows. Leaning forward, Pilot saw the final shuttle, appearing motionless in front of the ship. He thought he could make out the forms of Jonathan Jefferson and Kurata Nagamine in the front seats. He gave them a thumbs up and thought he saw one in return from the captain.
"Permission to dock?” came Jefferson's voice from the console in front of Pilot.
"Permission granted,” said Pilot. “Welcome to your new home.” He looked behind, to the crewmembers with him. “Look sharp, the captain's coming aboard. To your duty stations."
The men and women behind him moved forward and shook the pilot's hand, then made their way to the decks below and the welcome tug of simulated gravity. With some regret, Pilot made his way below decks behind them.
* * * *
Captain Jefferson climbed down the ladder into the command and control center of the Aristarchus and surveyed the deck. Lisa Henry sat at the communications station. Nebraska John O'Connell was at his post, watching the external sensors. Dr. Garcia, the ship's physician came in behind the captain and took his post at the ship's life support station. He'd been aboard before, but upon inspecting the ship's supplies, realized that there were a few essentials they needed before leaving Earth.
In the center of C-and-C sat Natalie Freeman, checking the ship's status on her own console. She looked up and saw Jefferson. “Captain on deck,” she said from long habit. Even though she knew that most of the people aboard the ship were not military personnel, she was still a bit disconcerted when no one stood at attention.
"As you were,” said Jefferson, out of similar habit.
Pilot climbed down the ladder and moved to his station at the front of the deck. He brought up a plot of the Earth/Moon system on the large display above his console. Over the top of the plot, he displayed the position of the Aristarchus. “I'd say a short burst from thrusters to give us some impulse in the right direction and we'll be on our way."
Jefferson stepped past Natalie Freeman and looked up at Pilot's display. Quietly, he asked a couple of questions, then looked over to the astrosciences station. “Mr. O'Connell, what's the status of lunar traffic?"
O'Connell turned around and checked the displays. “One shuttle has just departed the General Nanotech plant. Based on Pilot's orbital projection, it's well clear of our course."
"Ms. Henry,” called the captain. “Send a general notice to the lunar facilities with our projected course."
"Will do,” she said.
Jefferson smiled at Pilot. “You may fire your thrusters."
Pilot typed in a short command sequence on his computer console, then pushed one final button. There was a gentle nudge, nothing too auspicious. “We are on a hyperbolic orbit that will take us out of the Earth/Moon system in about two days. Then it's sit back and enjoy the six-month cruise to Mars."
Applause and cheers broke out. Neb stood and gave Pilot a high five while Jefferson, still getting used to the sloped deck, stepped to the command center and shook Natalie Freeman's hand. The captains heard more cheers echoing from the corridors as word spread through the ship.
"Very good, Pilot,” said Jefferson. He turned around and looked at the command crew. “Well done, everyone.” There were several murmured acknowledgments as everyone settled back into their seats. Dr. Garcia chewed his lip, looking worried that he'd forgotten something. Lisa Henry sat facing the pilot's console, watching the slow-moving image of the Aristarchus as it moved along the projected course. Neb O'Connell was tense, waiting for something to happen. After a few moments, he turned back to his console to check the sensory data.
Natalie Freeman stood up from the command seat. She indicated that the captain should sit. “You have the bridge,” she said.
"And you?” asked Jefferson, genuinely curious.
"I just want to check on a couple members of the crew."
* * * *
Natalie Freeman left C-and-C and made her way toward the crew cabins. She came to Myra Lee's door and knocked. Just as she was about to knock again, she heard a muffled, “Come in,” from the other side of the door.
Inside, Natalie found Myra curled up on her bed. Her skin had a vaguely greenish tinge. Most of her baggage was scattered around the room, still packed.
"How are you doing, Myra?” Natalie pulled up a chair and sat by the biologist's side.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was seasick."
"You probably are motion sick.” Natalie unbuttoned one of the pockets on her coveralls and removed a pill. “Here. This will help."
Myra took the pill and swallowed it down without water.
"It's not easy to get used to this simulated gravity,” said Natalie. “I've spent my whole adult life on ships. Even in the worst storms, it's easier to tell which way is ‘down’ than it is in this can."
"That's true.” Myra sat up tentatively on the bed. “I feel like I'm in a giant fast-moving Ferris wheel."
"Well, that's more or less what you are on,” said Natalie with a motherly smile. “Are you sorry you came along on this trip? I'm afraid there's no turning back now."
"Bad time to ask.” Myra quickly covered her mouth as she burped. “But I am beginning to wonder what I'm going to do for six months. It seemed like an exciting adventure just a few days ago. All of a sudden, I realize just how long it'll be before we get to Mars. After that, it's another year to Jupiter."
"In some ways, you've got it easy,” said Natalie. “You've got the whale song translation project to keep you occupied en route."
Myra looked around the room. “Yeah, and I've got some unpacking to do. What about you?"
Natalie stood and stepped over to an empty bookshelf. She ran her finger along the top, then looked at it. “I have work that will keep me occupied. After all, I'm a Navy captain on assignment for the president. There's a lot of paperwork that goes with that."
"What kind of paperwork?"
"Progress reports, crew status, things like that.” She returned to the chair by the bedside. “Of course the president is concerned about security interests."
Myra sat up straighter. “You mean the president's taking this business of intelligent life at Saturn seriously?"
Natalie inclined her head, neither confirming nor denying Myra's statement, just noting it. “Aren't you taking it seriously?"
"Well, yes...” said Myra, reclining again, “but I can take something seriously and still be skeptical."
Natalie raised an eyebrow. “If you're skeptical, why did you agree to come along on this mission?"
Myra laughed lightly and shook her head. “You of all people should ask! Did you seriously consider turning away from this mission when you were asked to join?"
"I have to admit, I was concerned when I saw how young Pilot was.” Natalie shot a furtive glance toward the door. She remembered seeing his picture for the first time while sitting in the president's office and wondering how he could be old enough to have invented a spaceship. It was like seeing a reflection of her childhood fantasies. Her uncle had offered her an appointment to Annapolis. What if he'd given her the facilities to build her own spaceship? “I really thought he'd be older,” she whispered conspiratorially.
"His age gave me pause, too,” admitted Myra. “I also hated to leave the whales behind, but you know what? I really hope Joyce Harmer is right and the whales are indeed talking to someone at Saturn."
"Why's that?"
"If all the speculation is true—and I'm not saying it is—then it doesn't take much of a leap to say the people at Saturn know th
e whales’ normal language."
Natalie sat back, considered that, and finally nodded, not certain she agreed, but accepting the scientist's belief. “Keep me posted on what you learn."
"Of course,” said Myra.
With that, Natalie stood, patted the biologist on the shoulder, and told her to get some rest.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 10
Underway
The first two days of the Aristarchus mission were busy for the entire crew. There was a near-constant barrage of radio chatter from people wishing the ship well on its voyage. Lisa Henry spent her first few hours doing little more than fielding messages. Myra Lee began to feel better and came to C-and-C after Lisa had been on watch for about eight hours and took over. Though she wasn't completely happy about it, she was willing to tolerate the communications responsibilities in exchange for the time she'd spend doing science later.
Small shuttles flew out from the lunar factories just to spend a few minutes alongside the ship that looked like a giant pinwheel. This kept John O'Connell and Kurata Nagamine busy, simply monitoring to make sure none of the ships came too close to the delicate sails. Likewise, Dr. Garcia spent several hours making certain life support systems were functioning well. Once he was satisfied, he left C-and-C to organize the infirmary and make one last check that he had all he needed.
Pilot was busy keeping the sails trimmed, optimizing their angle, helping the ship achieve escape velocity from Earth's orbit. His technical crew was, likewise, engaged watching data stream in from the sails themselves and from different parts of the ship's hull, making sure everything was behaving as predicted.
Just as the ship was about to break free of Earth's gravitational well, Myra looked over her shoulder at Natalie Freeman who sat at the command console. “Ma'am,” she said. “The president is calling."
Natalie straightened up in her chair and made sure the top button of her coveralls was done up. “Put him on speakers."
"Crew of the Aristarchus. This is your president, Oscar Van der Wald. I just wanted to call and wish you bon voyage."
"Thank you, Mr. President,” said Natalie.
"Captain Freeman, I trust all is operating smoothly."
"All operations are proceeding on schedule, Mr. President,” reported Natalie. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pilot evaluating her carefully.
"Very good,” said Van der Wald. “Best of luck to you all. Success to you, Captain Freeman and success to Quinn Corp.” With that, the president signed off.
Pilot stepped up to the central console. “The president does realize that Captain Jefferson is in operational command of this vessel, doesn't he?"
"He knows who's in operational command.” She looked up into Pilot's eyes.
* * * *
Later that day, Pilot watched his display intently. The red dot that marked the position of Aristarchus slowly approached a green line. Jonathan Jefferson stepped into C-and-C and walked over to the central console. He saw that Natalie was watching Pilot's display. “I'd like to have a word, please.” Jefferson's voice had a razor-sharp edge.
"With all due respect, sir,” said Natalie, “We're approaching a milestone. I think we should both be here for this."
Jefferson clasped his hands behind his back and watched Pilot's display.
The red dot crossed the green line. “We have reached escape velocity,” announced Pilot. “We are out of Earth's gravity well.” He tapped a few controls on his console. “I'm adjusting the sail trim to put us on course for Mars."
Natalie looked over her shoulder to the thruster control console. The Technical Systems Manager, Daryl LaRue, ran computations. Several numbers flashed on his screen. He looked back toward Freeman and Jefferson. “Confirmed. We have reached escape velocity."
"I could use a slight course adjustment,” said Pilot. “One degree to starboard if you please, Mr. LaRue."
LaRue looked toward the two captains who nodded in unison, then turned back to his station and fired the thrusters. “One degree to starboard, aye."
Jefferson looked at Freeman again. “Now?"
She nodded, then stood up and walked with Jefferson to the down-ladder. Just before they left, she looked at Pilot. “You have command."
Freeman followed Jefferson down one deck. He led the way to a small lounge area set along the outer wall of the sphere. A semi-circular couch surrounded a porthole in the floor. The Moon, visible through the porthole, cast a cold, wan light through the room.
Jefferson indicated that Freeman should have a seat. “I understand the President of the United States called earlier this afternoon.” He took a seat opposite her.
"He did,” said Freeman. “It caught me by surprise."
"I wasn't expecting the call, either,” said Jefferson. “However, it's traditional on space voyages that the ship commander be the one to talk to the president. I should have been called to command and control."
"Ah.... “Freeman took a deep breath, then continued. “Captain, sir, I had no intention of undermining your authority. However, may I respectfully point out, that you're an employee of Quinn Corp while I'm the active duty officer and a NASA official. The president is my commander-in-chief, not yours."
Jefferson folded his hands and looked down through the porthole in the floor. “That doesn't excuse your breach of protocol, Ms. Freeman. You're the executive officer, not the captain of the ship. We explained that very carefully to Pilot. We can't create an atmosphere of confusion among the crew."
"You're right, of course, sir,” said Freeman. “I apologize. It won't happen again."
Jefferson nodded, then looked up into Freeman's dark eyes. “There's only one other thing that bothers me. Why are you here?"
"I'm here to observe the mission.” Freeman's answer was very precise and practiced.
"I think there's more you're not telling me.” Jefferson sat forward slightly.
Freeman sat back and studied the curved walls for a moment, more to avoid Jefferson's gaze than through any curiosity about the ship's construction. Finally, she looked back at him. “Why are we really going to Saturn?"
Jefferson smiled. “We're looking for organic compounds and possibly life at Saturn.” Jefferson echoed the tone of Freeman's precise, practiced answer from before. “The biomedical implications would be astounding."
"They would be, but how profitable would any of it be for Quinn Corp? Most of the answers Alonzo says we're seeking can be found on Earth, in the laboratory. The possibility of finding intelligent life is a big deal, of course, but that came up only after the project was started. Quinn Corp is investing a lot of money in this mission. I'd like to know why."
Jefferson chewed on his lower lip. “I'm aboard this ship to make sure she gets safely to Saturn and returns home. Just make sure you don't interfere with the operation of the ship as you ‘observe the mission.’”
"I understand, sir,” said Freeman. “One more thing—does Pilot seem a bit young to you?"
"At first.” Jefferson nodded. “Then I remembered something I'd read at the Air Force Academy—that most scientists make their greatest discoveries before they turn thirty."
"Alonzo's brilliant, I'll give you that, but is he experienced?"
Jefferson ran fingers through his white hair, then smiled disarmingly. “That's why I'm here and why I'm glad you're here, too."
* * * *
After the Aristarchus left Earth's gravity well, space traffic died off completely, giving Neb O'Connell much less to worry about. Out of lunar orbit, there were no more spaceships transporting goods to and from the Earth. There were no more shuttles to buzz by the Aristarchus, serving as collision hazards. Seeing that Neb was less busy with ship's business, Dr. Nagamine ordered him to start a series of observations, using the ship's telescopic cameras to take pictures of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. In that way, Neb's job aboard ship became very much like his job back on Earth.
For Neb O'Connell, the first week of observation
s was interesting. He had new equipment to learn and the new routine was interrupted by the requirements of his other duties—monitoring the ship itself to make sure it was in good operating condition and monitoring the area immediately ahead of the ship to make sure there was nothing in their path. Also, though there was a radio-frequency antenna aboard Aristarchus, most of Neb's photos were in the optical band. For the first time in his professional career, he got to photograph the planets as they appeared to the human eye.
By the second week of the voyage, O'Connell had the new routine down pat. It required very little concentration on his part. Though he was still delighted to be aboard a spaceship heading toward the outer planets, he grew bored.
* * * *
Over the course of the voyage's first month, phone calls and radio communication with the Aristarchus tapered off. During the first weeks, Lisa Henry and Myra Lee felt far too much like telephone operators as family and friends kept calling members of the crew to wish them well on their journey. Members of the press called repeatedly to interview Captain Jefferson or Captain Freeman. Thomas Alonzo refused interviews, saying the cameras made him nervous. Once Aristarchus left Earth's gravity well, the limit imposed by the speed of light took its toll on phone conversations. The delay between the time someone aboard ship spoke and it could be heard on the Earth increased rapidly. As phone calls between Earth and the ship died down, email traffic picked up, but that required much less attention from Myra and Lisa.
The cetacean biologist felt better as she grew more accustomed to the ship's strange gravity. She and Lisa examined the whale translation programs that Joyce Harmer had written to the Aristarchus communications computer.
During the first week of the flight's second month, Myra was surprised by a phone call from Earth. Responding, she found it was Joyce Harmer, calling from her new office at Quinn Corp. “We think we have a more-or-less exact translation of the whale's message,” she said. Without waiting for a response, she continued on. “It says, ‘The cycle continues. The tool builders prepare to cross the great void. For them, the art is the death. The keepers of the rings are advised, many hunters and bards have been lost to them. The cycle resumes.’ The reference to crossing a great void or emptiness convinces me more that the whales are speaking to someone in space, if not Saturn itself."
The Solar Sea Page 9
