At the end of their conversation, Joram was simply amazed that he had spent an hour and a half with her on the patio of the Red Door Café, where Joram nursed his lemonade and Kath finished off two iced coffees. Where had the day gone? His first astronomy lecture had flown by, and now his acquaintance with Kath had seemed but a flash.
“Wow, how the day has flown!” Joram commented as he looked at his watch. “I have to be going now, Kath, but I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”
“Sounds great,” Kath acknowledged.
With that, the new acquaintances bid each other farewell, until Wednesday, when they would meet again in Professor Zimmer’s class.
…
Zimmer took a long stride as he walked into Dean Scoville’s office. As he sat down in the chair opposite of the dean’s desk, he wasted no time in getting to the point. “How was the meeting with NASA, Ballard?”
Scoville’s face turned austere. Just as Zimmer was settling into his seat, the dean stood up to look out of his window overlooking the campus.
“Things did use to be more simple around here, Carl,” Ballard admitted. Then turning back to look at Zimmer while gazing on the well-manicured grounds visible from his fourth floor office, he continued. “I didn’t know exactly how the meeting with NASA would turn out, but I was worried when they called yesterday to schedule an urgent discussion for this afternoon. NASA almost never works on a schedule like that, unless it’s pretty serious.”
Zimmer listened attentively, fearing the worst. Actually, he had already been fearing the worst for the last three years, precisely when he began the extended summer research at Cerro Tololo. He was starting to feel the pressure on his research budget, and knew that he had to step up his efforts. He needed to throw a bone to NASA to ensure that his funding would persist.
“The research funding committee flew out from Washington to visit us on our research programs. Darn it, Carl, you know how everything has to be so political these days. Politicians are riding the public appeal of interstellar travel, because their constituents want to travel all over the universe. But they don’t seem to care as much about the real science of astronomy.”
“But Ballard, they’ve promised us—in writing—at least two more years of funding,” Carlton announced.
“Yes, they mentioned that as a tactic to apply pressure. They’re threatening to pull the plug at the end of this year if they don’t start seeing results from your current research. It seems like every senator who’s aspiring for the Oval Office is flapping their jaws about limiting unessential research. Some are even so bold as to threaten NASA with extinction!”
Zimmer hung his head. “Ballard, they promised two more years.”
“Funny money, Carl. A bill that is signed into law today will have a counter-measure erasing its efficacy next year. You can’t trust anything that these guys put down on paper, because they can simply legislate it all away.”
“What are their demands?” Professor Zimmer immediately put himself into problem solving mode.
“They want evidence, Carlton. Hard, rock solid evidence that this parallel solar system concept is valid.”
“Ballard, I’ve provided them with the statistics. The universe is—well, it’s universal. With the vast number of class G2 stars out their, the mathematical models provide compelling evidence a copy of earth is out there.”
Dean Scoville sat back down in his black leather chair, leaned over his dark walnut desk, and looked Professor Zimmer straight into the eye. “Carl, when are you going to find that needle?”
Zimmer hung his head again. He had no answer, and was starting to see his lifelong dream slipping away from his reach.
Hanging and shaking his head slowly, Carlton responded. “I don’t know Ballard… I just don’t know.”
Chapter
3
As Paol Joonter took his seat at the defense table, he poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher in front of him. He looked down at a legal pad and scribbled a few notes. The notes were intended as a distraction to keep him from looking up at the jury or the district attorney, actions which his lawyer suggested could cause him to appear desperate, and that could sway the jury against him.
“Warron?” Paol whispered leaning somewhat to the left to get closer to his lawyer. With his chin resting in the palm of his hand, the lawyer bent his ear towards Joonter’s head, after which he spoke a brief statement that only the lawyer was able to hear.
Scribbling quickly on a corner of his legal pad, Warron ripped off the note and turned back to hand the scrap to a paralegal, who nodded and quickly departed the courtroom.
As the door to the back of the courtroom opened, the court bailiff announced, “All rise. The honorable judge Walldar J. Etherton presiding.”
All stood in unison as directed and watched as the judge entered and assumed his seat at the front of the room. Looking down at a flurry of papers in front of him, he put on a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles, assessed that all was in order and looked up at the courtroom. He counted the jury and studied the counsel tables to make sure all were accounted for. Looking at the audience, he saw many of the same individuals who had been present for the duration of the case.
He observed the concern on the face of Joyera Joonter, who sat as normal directly behind her husband within arm’s reach. He saw a few additional individuals seated on the opposite side of the courtroom, and understood that more of the victims’ family members were showing up now that the case was nearing its conclusion. To say that it was a somber setting would be an understatement. Faces devoid of color hinted at anxiety. Dark shadows expressed a lack of sleep. Bloodshot eyes betrayed the tears that flowed freely previously.
“Please be seated,” he instructed. Looking at the district attorney, he continued, “Is the prosecution prepared for closing remarks?”
“Yes, your Honor,” stated the lawyer with his hands folded over his legal pad.
“Please proceed, then.”
Chapter
4
For Garrison O’Ryan, it was the experience of a lifetime. As the most common route taken on nearly all manned space missions these days, astronauts call it “the interstate” of space travel. As a 26-year old astronaut, Garrison was making his first journey along this well-beaten path. NASA engineers are quick to point that this interstate is actually safer than the one frequented during the morning commute. There had never been any incident along this well-traveled corridor, and Garrison was confident that he wouldn’t be the first, even though he was a bit nervous about having to fly solo.
As it turns out, there are actually two legs to “the interstate.” The first leg is a relatively short 250,000-mile two-day trip from Kennedy Space Center on the Florida coastline to the “rest stop” at Camp Moon. Garrison will stop here and take a day to get several hours of rest. From there, he will leave his rocket-intensive Moon Shuttle behind for the more cramped but speedy design of the Mars Shuttle, on which he will travel the second leg of “the interstate” all the way to Mars. Due to its weaker gravitational field, the Moon makes a more desirable location for launching a vehicle towards Mars. Once in flight, the shuttle will transport Garrison to Mars in just over a month of travel. While NASA always plans this second leg to be as short as possible—that is, when the Earth and Mars are relatively close to each other—this part of the trip will still take Garrison an additional 60 million miles away from his home. Astronauts claim that you feel every one of those miles too, because while the Mars Shuttle was designed for speed, comfort ranked pretty low on the list of design constraints.
On the first leg, Garrison was overwhelmed at how massive the Earth appears when viewed from several thousand miles above sea level. The vastness of his home and the space surrounding him diminished his own sense of worth in the universe in which he lived. As he orbited the moon to prepare for landing, he was amazed to see the incredible detail of the deep, shadow-laden craters. He was astounded at how much effort it took to walk on the Moon,
especially considering that he only weighed thirty-three pounds there. He also noted how Camp Moon felt like a well-preserved ghost town, particularly because he was the only person present on the ten-acre site of buildings and hangars. He was not, however, surprised at how little he was able to sleep. With the anxiety of the long trip ahead of him, he only nodded off for a couple of hours, and found himself in a confused state when he awoke, wondering if all of this was nothing more than a dream.
Walking from his dorm to the hangar where the Mars Shuttle waited for him, he observed a crescent Earth that hung precariously over the horizon. He ate his breakfast consisting of a protein bar and pomegranate energy drink, both scientifically calculated to minimize the amount of waste he’d incur on his flight to Mars. Then he suited up, left his pressurized room, and made his way out to the runway, where his Mars Shuttle waited.
The Mars Shuttle was designed for horizontal takeoff and landing, both easier propositions for a solo pilot. It sat at the beginning of a relatively short runway indicating its readiness for service and its ability to accelerate into space very quickly.
Garrison knew how small the space craft was, for he had already become familiar with the cockpit in several prototypes. What amazed Garrison, however, was the comparatively massive solid rocket boosters bolted underneath each wing. The boosters were so large that the bottom of the vehicle was twenty feet off the ground, meaning that the boosters had to have landing gear of their own in order to propel the shuttle down the runway. Garrison knew that the boosters were necessary. In order to obtain high velocity, the shuttle requires a massive volume of rocket fuel to obtain the required speed, even in this low-gravity environment. Once jettisoned, the boosters would be able to return to Camp Moon via automated computer navigation. The same landing gear would be used to touch down on the satellite and then taxi off of the runway for future use.
Looking up at his tiny home for the next month, Garrison paused momentarily, wondering whether he really wanted to be confined to this miniscule capsule for a month. But, he knew that he had not spent years preparing himself for this moment, only to turn around and abort the mission now. Climbing the ladder structure to the top of the rocket booster and then walking the length of the booster to his cockpit, O’Ryan paused just a moment to admire the Earth and wondered if his wife was looking up at him at the same moment.
Throwing his body down into the cockpit, he sealed the hatch above him, and listened as a rush of air pressurized his environment, allowing him to stow his helmet in a compartment under his seat. Running through a checklist, he inspected gauges and monitor readouts to ensure that all systems were prepared for launch.
“Mission Control, this is Captain O’Ryan, prepared for takeoff in the Mars Shuttle Iowa” Garrison announced formally to NASA engineers at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas.
“Iowa,” responded a mission control specialist, “this is Mission Control. We’re going over the last set of data from the vehicle to make sure we are a go for launch in T minus 32 minutes. We’ll confirm system check in twenty minutes, Captain.”
“All systems checked from visual inspection of the vehicle, Mission Control”, Garrison confirmed confidently.
“How ya’ feeling, Garrison?” asked another specialist more casually.
“Certainly not as comfortable as you, Halton.” Garrison recognized the voice of his astronaut mentor, Halton Cooke. Cooke had recently retired from the astronaut program, but still served as a mission advisor to NASA on retainer.
“D’ya sleep well?” Halton knew that the chit chat would help keep Garrison’s mind occupied during the pre-launch routine.
“What do you think?” Garrison answered the question with one of his own.
“Yeah, I copy you on that, O’Ryan.” Halton couldn’t help but smile as he leaned back with his hands behind his head, making sure not to pull off his headset. “After your third or fourth trip, you’ll be sleeping like a baby in that bed on the moon.”
“Sleeping like a baby?” quipped Garrison. “You don’t know the O’Ryan baby apparently. That little tike didn’t sleep until he was two years old it seemed.”
“Then, you’ll get to know how he felt,” volleyed Halton quickly. “By the time you get to Mars, you’re going to feel like you’ve gone two years without any sleep.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” asked Garrison.
“No,” admitted Halton. “It’s supposed to make you feel prepared. This is going to be a long trip, Garrison. I hope you’re ready for it.”
“Of course, I’m ready,” lied Garrison. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“My prediction is that you will certainly miss the world before you come home a couple of years from now.” The brutal honesty of Halton did not escape his friend. He was used to it, and it was that ability to say things exactly as he saw them for which O’Ryan had always admired his mentor. However, while Garrison had known that he’d be gone for nearly two years, the realization of this was just starting to settle in. He thought even more profoundly than previously how Timmer would be six years old by then. He wondered if he would even be able to remember his father after that much time.
All astronauts served a twenty-two month rotation on Camp Mars. A pair of astronauts was stationed there at all times. Garrison was hitting the early part of the window where Earth and Mars are sufficiently close to make the trip. He would relieve an astronaut, who would return in the Mars Shuttle back to Camp Moon shortly after he landed. Then in a month, another exchange would occur, relieving Garrison’s companion of his duties in a similar manner. After that, the Earth and Moon would continue to diverge, as Earth raced around its orbit at twice the rate of Mars. After one year, the Earth would be back in the same position it was today, but Mars would’ve only traveled one half of its orbit, placing it on the other side of the Sun from Earth. Both planets would need to travel another nine months around their orbit in order for their positions to be close enough for Garrison to be relieved of his duties on the red planet.
“Iowa,” interrupted the mission control specialist from Garrison’s nostalgia. “All systems check. You’re good for launch in T minus six minutes.”
Halton announced to Garrison that it was time to resume business as the last several steps of launch preparation would need to be completed. Upon hearing the commotion from mission specialists on Earth, images and thoughts rushed through his head like they did back in Florida just a couple of days ago. And then in a flash, it happened.
“10… 9… Iowa, you have horizontal acceleration. Rockets are engaged at 100%... 4... 3... 2… 1… Mars Shuttle Iowa has lifted off from the runway. Second leg mission clock has commenced at four hours, twelve minutes, and seven seconds GMT.”
…
Even though Garrison had already seen Earth and the Moon from the sweeping view of space, Garrison was even more stunned as he stared out of his shuttle down onto the surface of Mars. While orbiting the red planet, he was able to identify some of the most prevalent features that he’d become so familiar with.
He easily noticed the massive scar-like canyon, Valles Marineris. The deepest, widest, and longest canyon in the solar system, even from several hundred miles above, Garrison was stunned at its massive structure. On Earth, Marineris would stretch from Los Angeles to New York City, with depths up to 25000 feet, and would span a distance of 125 miles wide. By comparison, the Grand Canyon would look like a small ditch. He observed massively fractured canyons jutting off of both sides of the main canyon walls, until Marineris narrowed tightly into a maze of slot canyons, called Noctis Labyrinthus.
The Labyrinth of the Night was Garrison’s favorite feature of Mars. He was thrilled to discover that part of his mission on Mars would entail a visit to this feature, along with a significant investigation of the geological—or, because it was Mars, and not the Earth, areological—forces of this region. With his mouth open in surprise, he attempted to gain a perspective a the massive sand dune
s he saw swirling up onto the canyon walls. He imagined that these structures might rival anything found in the Sahara Desert, since the canyon walls were as tall as 10,000 feet.
The shuttle whisked him away from the Labyrinth quicker than he would hope, and in craning his neck to see the last of it, he hadn’t realized that he was directly over the Tharsis Region mountain peaks: Arsia Mons, Pavonis Mons, and Ascraeus Mons. Ranging from fifty to sixty thousand feet in elevation, these three mountains arranged in a straight line were easily identifiable.
The jaw dropping experience of the Tharsis Mountains had dazed the young astronaut, but he quickly recovered to remember exactly where to locate another impressive feature. The aptly named Olympus Mons—Mount Olympus—sat on the western edge of the Tharsis region. While no longer active, the solar system’s largest volcano grew to its stature over a period of about 100 million years. Every astronaut will attest that nothing can prepare you for awesome sight of Olympus Mons from the ground. Towering at nearly 90000 feet or 17 miles above the mean level surface of Mars, you would have to stack three Mount Everests on top of each other to understand the degree of reverence this behemoth commands. As he passed just to the south of the mountain, Garrison stared down into the 60-mile wide caldera. Seeing the six impact craters at the top, Garrison could understand just how difficult it would be for a meteor to actually miss the top of this mountain. It just looked like a magnet the way it leapt off of the plains surrounding it.
The Orthogonal Galaxy Page 3
