The Orthogonal Galaxy

by Michael L. Lewis

  “My guess is that you already have enough astronauts willing to make the effort that you could fill three or four teams of rescuers. They will gladly risk their lives to make the attempt. If you don’t give them the chance, they will always live with the decision to allow Camp Mars to become Graveyard Mars. They won’t be able to sleep at night, and I’m hoping that you wouldn’t be able to sleep either if you make the decision to not go.”

  “Fair enough,” said Henley without emotion. “I appreciate your candor and your opinion, Professor. I was already mostly off the fence in favor of the mission. Your insight helps convince me that we will go. Dr. Gilroy, I will expect daily reports between now and launch next Thursday as to the status of the preparation of the vehicle and its crew.”

  “Absolutely. I will have those daily reports to you by 5:00 PM central time.”

  “Well, gentlemen. If that’s all…”

  Zimmer was surprised at how easily Henley was convinced to run the mission. Emboldened, he added, “Vurim, if I may add just one more thing before we conclude, I know that our highest priority is the rescue of the astronauts, but I think you do yourself and NASA a disservice without looking ahead.”

  “Looking ahead, Professor?” Gilroy’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

  “If we cannot determine what this beam consists of, we may never know what exactly it did to destroy the camp. The future of manned space exploration may be in jeopardy if we cannot comfortably comprehend the forces that can alter our exploratory efforts.”

  “What do you propose, professor?”

  “Since we are sending a crew millions of miles away to rescue the astronauts, why not spend an extra day or two on a side trip to study this phenomenon.”

  “I do not feel comfortable with that idea, Professor,” announced Henley, as the team members once again took their seats in realization of a drawn-out discussion. “You’re asking us to fly one of our ships into the beam that could bear highly destructive forces. This needs to remain focused as a mission of rescue, not discovery.”

  “I understand that Dr. Henley. I’m not suggesting that we fly into it, but I believe we have some ruggedized probes that could be easily deployed from a distance in order to study the beam close up. Of course, the craft would keep a safe distance, and I realize that it would come after the rescue. And… if either Boronov or O’Ryan are in physical or medical peril, we would scrap the experiments, and rush them back home.”

  “Define safe distance, Professor.” Henley continued to press. “Who would be able to determine with any confidence how close we can get?”

  “The ship would have to come no closer than it already is approaching. We’ll already be within 10000 miles of the beam according to our calculations. This is already a distance which is certainly closer than desired, but the probes can be launched from the ship and traverse the remainder of the distance themselves.”

  “Really, Professor,” dismissed the NASA director. “We simply cannot worry about experiments when the lives of astronauts are at stake.”

  “I understand your position, Dr. Henley, but I think it would be prudent to consider the future. If we can’t identify the beam—if we can’t understand the physical phenomenon that leveled Camp Mars, then we can no longer feel comfortable with space exploration in general. We’ll always be too frightened of the unknown. For the future of NASA and scientific space exploration in general, we simply must figure out what this thing is, and to do that, we’re going to have to visit it. It can’t hurt to add the probes to the payload and spend an extra day in the orbit of Mars to get them dispensed.”

  Dr. Henley weighed Zimmer’s arguments. If Zimmer was right, then public opinion could sour on the mission of NASA, and that would put his own job in jeopardy.

  Henley turned towards Gilroy. “Vurim, we have less than a week to organize the rescue effort. Would we have time to consider these experiments as well?”

  “I would need more people, Joe. My team will be tasked 24/7 with the task of getting the rescue effort put together before then. But, if there was another team available who could also work full throttle on the experimental payload, we might be able to pull it off. Of course, we’d need your help, Carlton.”

  “You would have my full attention over the next week on any issues that come up. I need to return to my research team in California to collect the data and observations that they have made over the weekend, and with that data, we will comprise a set of experiments which should help us figure out what we’re dealing with here.”

  After a brief pause, Gilroy dismissed the meeting, and on the way out of the room, Zimmer felt a vibration in his coat pocket. He pulled out his cell phone, looked at the number, but did not instantly recognize it. “It’s 5:30 AM in California… who would be calling me at this hour.”

  “Hello, this is Carlton Zimmer.”

  Zimmer answered to hear a quavering, distraught voice on the other end. “Professor Zimmer. This is Kath Mirabelle.”

  Chapter

  13

  “All rise…”

  Paul rose in unison with the rest of the room, but he didn’t hear anything else from the court clerk until he took his seat a second after everyone else had.

  “You may be seated,” the judge announced as he took his seat. “It looks like the jury is accounted for. Have you reached a decision, Mr. Foreman?”

  “We have your Honor.”

  This time, it was Warron who was more intent on the outcome of the jury, mainly because of those white-collar laws. He was curious to know if the courts would implement them to their fullest in this case. As for Joonter, he figured life in prison was another form of death penalty. At his age, could he possibly live 20 or 30 years in prison and live to see parole?

  The foreman stood and read the statement prepared by the jury. “In the case of Paol Joonter, your Honor, we recommend a penalty of life in prison for the murder of Rawson Becker with parole review in 20 years. Further, we recommend the death penalty for the murder of Shannyl Cox, as we consider her to have been an innocent bystander at the murder scene who was completely absolved from any responsibility in the business proceedings of Mr. Joonter and Mr. Becker.”

  “I understand,” reiterated Etherton, “that you are recommending one life in prison sentence and one death penalty sentence. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “Will council please approach the bench?”

  Paol was now very intent as sweat began to bead up on his face. His wife, just behind him, was sobbing, but rubbed his back in an attempt to show her continued support of her husband.

  “Your Honor,” Warron was quick to launch the first words in his sidebar with the judge. “This is simply unprecedented. Two different sentences for effectively the same crime?”

  “You heard the jury’s argument. They could perhaps understand a crime of passion, since you’ve shown the unscrupulous manner in which Becker handled some of his business affairs. However, Ms. Cox was not involved in any decision that should’ve turned your client’s weapon against her. It was a cold-blooded deed your client dealt her.”

  “My client will appeal, I assure you… he is innocent. However, this is his first offense. His record of ethical business dealings speaks for itself. He has contributed greatly to our society. And he could possibly do no harm when he is released from prison on parole. In other words, even if he had committed the crime, I believe that all recognize that he is not a violent criminal. Why will we throw the book at him?”

  “Your Honor,” The district attorney stepped in. “This jury, which was selected by yourself, and both counsels, has seen all of the evidence, they have spent ample time deliberating. I believe they have made a conclusion consistent with the Congressional White-Collar Act of…”

  “Henry,” interrupted Warron. “You know as well as I do that the White-Collar Act was intended against crimes of economic import. This case has nothing to do with that act, and yet, I’m afraid that the jury has been d
istracted by this law and has been confused on its interpretation.”

  To this argument, the judge responded, “The act says nothing about the type of crime involved.”

  “An oversight by Congress that simply needs to be resolved sooner than later as this case apparently dictates. Gentlemen, we all know why Congress was motivated to pass that law. We must be sensitive to their intent.”

  “I interpret the law as I read it. The intent will have to be determined by a higher court of law than this one. In the meantime, I have to agree with the jury, and with the prosecutor. The request of the jury will stand. In the meantime, I suggest you begin the paperwork on the appeals of the United States v. Paol Joonter and on the Congressional White Collar Act.”

  “May I ask, your Honor, what you will consider a reasonable bail for the appeal? The paperwork has already been submitted, and the appellate court has accepted it.”

  “Bail?” asked the judge in surprise. “The Congressional White-Collar act states that any sentence handed down to an executive officer of a for-profit incorporated firm must stand as declared by the judge without possibility of bail. Part of the reason for the act is that constituents affected adversely economically by the actions of corporate officers are simply tired of seeing these men convicted and let free while the vast numbers of white-collar appeals sit on the benches of judges for years. Where is the justice of a wealthy criminal who is convicted of effectively robbing from his employees and investors and then is allowed to enjoy his wealth in the comforts of his own home for the rest of his life while appeal after appeal is filed on his behalf?”

  “Your Honor, I must protest,” began Warron. “Murdering these two people did not make Mr. Joonter any richer. He will not be enjoying much of anything while an incorrect judgment has been passed on him.”

  “As for the judgment, my court has done everything in its power to render a correct verdict. I trust that my juries have done everything in their power to make these decisions as just as possible. I would appreciate that you not suggest ineptness on the part of my court.”

  “Your Honor, I mean no disrespect, but we all know that one juror had been corrupted.”

  “And I handled that as judiciously as possible,” answered the judge, growing more irritated with the defense attorney with each attempt to persuade the court to change its mind. “Even you agreed to the handling of that juror yourself, did you not?”

  “I did, your Honor.”

  “Then, if you have no further arguments, may I proceed with this session?”

  Enraged at this failure of the judicial system, Warron conceded defeat, “You may, your Honor.”

  “Mr. Prosecutor, do you have anything further in this case?”

  “No, your Honor.”

  “Then, I believe we are done here.” The judge dismissed the attorneys with a severe look.

  After the lawyers returned to their seats, Etherton addressed the suspect directly. “Mr. Joonter, after discussion with the defense and prosecution in this case, I have decided to accept the jury’s recommended sentences. You are to serve one life sentence which is superseded by the death penalty sentence. As I have explained to your council, I am disallowed, by law, to grant you the possibility of parole during appeal, but I will grant you one week before you are to report to the federal penitentiary to begin your sentence in order to allow you to put any remaining personal affairs in order. You will be under house arrest during that period of time, and will be accompanied by a federal agent at all hours of the day. Because your appeal has already been accepted, I would expect that the appellate court will initiate your case within three to six months. At that time, the appellate judge will determine whether there is ample evidence to grant you bail at that time, or whether you will continue to serve your sentence until the jury determines a new verdict and sentence. Do you understand these directions?”

  Vacantly, Paol gazed into the eyes of the judge and affirmed. “Yes, your Honor.”

  Chapter

  14

  Conversation was light in the Palomar dining room on Saturday evening. The stresses of the evening before coupled with the grind of nighttime work in the astronomy induced significant fatigue on the part of Professor Zimmer’s graduate students. Each would eventually shake off the slumber of the day through their microwave dinners and choice of caffeinated beverages. Joram had already consumed half of his bottle of Coca-Cola, Reyd was sipping at his hot coffee, and Kath was savoring her peach-flavored iced tea. Engulfed in silence, the trio looked up from their meals as they heard the door to the room open.

  “Professor Zimmer!” Kath exclaimed, relieved to see her mentor appear.

  With bags under his eyes, it was clear that the toil of the last couple of weeks was even taking its toll on this seasoned astronomer, all too acquainted with nocturnal living.

  “Hello!” Zimmer nodded and smiled. “I’m glad I’ll be able to assist you with your efforts this evening. I’m very sorry I left the three of you alone in your duties last night, especially considering the scare that you gave yourselves. However, I’m impressed with the accomplishments that you were able to make last night.”

  “Accomplishments?” sneered Reyd, cutting a glance at Joram. “We spent the whole evening regenerating the same set of numbers from the same set of calculations.”

  “Ah, but in the end, you made a discovery that has become a great piece of the puzzle,” Zimmer stated in a congratulatory manner.

  After a brief pause, Kath broke the silence in an imploring tone, “Professor?”

  “Yes, Kath.”

  “I’m sorry that I jumped to such ridiculous conclusions last night.”

  “Nonsense, Miss Mirabelle. They were not ridiculous at all. I was singularly impressed with your theory. It fit Mr. Anders’ calculations. It fit the manner of the brightening of the beam. It was a really clever piece of deduction.”

  “Clever, indeed. It only took you five seconds to disprove it. I… I didn’t think it through enough.”

  “Only because of experience, Kath. I’ve been around the block enough with scientific discovery that I’m constantly trying to analyze all of the data in an effort to disprove any theory which I might concoct, as it is always easier to prove a theory wrong than to prove one right. For example, take Einstein’s theory of relativity. It has dominated the thought process and laws of physics for centuries now, yet it cannot be proven. Just because we’ve observed that it holds true in a million and one experiments which have been conducted over many years doesn’t mean that experiment number one million and two will not provide evidence to disprove it—or at least provide a singularity to the theory. It would take infinite observational prowess to prove a theory, but it takes just one contrary piece of data to disprove it.

  “That said, as you set forth your theory to me last night, my first objective was to disprove it. And so, I realized that the calculation of the distance from the beam to Mars was calculated by several teams over several days. All of these teams came up with the same number. 12,500 miles. This indicates that there was no motion of the beam towards the planet Mars, thus it could not be emanating away from the center of the Milky Way as you had proposed.

  “Further, any such radiation would propagate through the empty expanses of the galaxy nearly at the speed of light. Had the beam been approaching from the center of the galaxy, we would have been hit with the radiation only minutes after it had rained its destructive powers down on Camp Mars.

  “Further, we know that the radiation had already hit Earth, just not with the same punch that it had on Mars—which is most fortunate. We know that there was an unidentifiable impact of radiation on the side of the Earth which is facing in the direction of where the beam rests now. The Sun also received a radiation event at the same time as well.”

  At this, Joram interrupted Zimmer. “That’s what’s got me confused, Professor. How can the event be synchronized between Earth, Mars and the Sun? How could it be omni-present at the same exact moment
in time?”

  “That, Mr. Anders… has cost me many a night of sleep in the last couple of weeks. It is a serious piece of the puzzle that must be understood, and as you know… in order to do that, we would be better served spending time over at 26, instead of here in the dining room.”

  All three students got the hint, and each returned to their dinner and drink. Zimmer pulled an apple out of an oversized pocket on his windbreaker and instructed the team to meet him at the observatory as soon as they were finished with their dinner. The distinctive crunch of the juicy apple was clearly heard as the door shut behind him.

  “I think your theory was brilliant, Kath,” Joram complemented. “You had Reyd and me convinced, you know.”

  “It’s not so much the theory that’s bothering me.” Kath shared. “I really am starting to wonder if I really want to do this type of research. I’m afraid of what we might find.”

  Reyd attempted to console her. “You know, Kath, even if we discover it without you, you’ll eventually know what the yellow beam is. As soon as the phenomenon of what happened here is understood, it will be broadcast to the world. You should be thrilled—honored—to be a part of it.”