The Orthogonal Galaxy

by Michael L. Lewis

  Paol’s mind worked this question at a million miles a minute. This was certainly a loaded question, but then again when would he have the opportunity to have a woman ask him that question ever again. But maybe he was being tricked into something. In the end, he opted for the only safe answer that he could give.

  “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with women.”

  With genuine laughter, she bowed her head. “Nice try—do you really expect me to buy that? Anyway, since you are unwilling to give an answer, I will. Women fantasize too much about their happily-ever-after. All along, I had convinced myself that we would move to Houston, wait a few more months, have your name cleared permanently, move back to Seattle, and live out our perfect little lives happily ever after. And then when those unrealistic expectations are not met, our worlds are shattered beyond repair.

  “But I have to accept that there may be a different happily-ever-after for us, which is that we move to Houston, enjoy our weekends together thoroughly for the next six years, and become famously admired for giving up our father and husband to the heroic service of his country and world. I guess, sometimes in life, there are things larger than ourselves—larger than life itself. I mean, what does our existence on this planet mean unless we are engaged in bettering the world for generations to come? Your efforts in learning about Earth2 will be indispensable in gaining the knowledge we crave and need to understand our universe better, and to progress—not as just a self-centered all-important view of the universe that revolves around us, but rather a universal community of beings who share the universe with brothers and sisters that today we can only imagine are out there.”

  “We don’t know that we’ll meet anybody on Earth2, you know.”

  “You will, Paol—you will.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “We women may be optimistic to a fault, but our intuition can’t be refuted. I’ve always felt that there is something out there bigger than just ourselves. Can we really be so egotistical to think that we evolved as the only intelligent beings in the universe? In the vastness of the galaxies, what makes our little solar system so much more important than the trillions of other stars out there? Or—on the other hand, if we really are created by an all-powerful God, can we really think that he created trillions of stars just to populate one little planet with sentient beings? Why would he waste his time creating all of the other stars, planets and galaxies when one little star called the Sun would do?

  “No, Paol—there are others out there, and I should be less selfish to keep you to myself when you have the opportunity to discover them for us. You should go on this mission—but I want you to do everything in your power to make it succeed. You are a great man, Paol Joonter—too great for your efforts to fail and be in vain.”

  Words escaped him, not that they would have helped anyway, as he was too emotional at this point to be able to speak. Instead, he chose to hold his wife close to him. As he felt her head on his chest, he also noticed his heartbeat, and in that heartbeat, he felt something different—something that he had never quite felt before. He realized that his wife was right—that his life was somehow meant for something greater and that the inhabitants of Earth1 needed to learn about Earth2. He was the man chosen—either by God or by fate—to discover for his own race something of vast importance, something so vast that it might even be paramount to the future of Earth1.

  Chapter

  24

  It took months for Paol and Blade to feel comfortable with their new routine. Going from the prison to astronaut training was like night and day. They found themselves exhausted before breakfast due to the torturous workout of their personal trainers, but that was just the beginning, of course. Flight simulation required intense focus and reflexes, while the barrage of coursework took every last bit of energy.

  Naturally, they looked forward to the weekends, where they could catch up on rest, and more casually work through their physical routines and their memorization and study. But the weekends just never seemed long enough. Muscles were sore when the alarm went off on Monday morning. Eyes were bloodshot from reading their iTexts and flash cards. Headaches seemed as if they were simply trying to stretch their brains faster than they could absorb it all. As a result, they were thrilled to hear of their first flight field trip. Their flight instructors would be escorting them to Nevada, where a range of in-flight tests would take place. They would eventually need to log hundreds of hours of flight experience before they could even be considered as astronaut candidates. The week-long trip was intended to give them the first couple of dozen hours under their belt.

  At an abandoned Air Force base in central Nevada, the two students felt like visitors to a military ghost town. The teachers, however, were familiar with the location and knew that it had the best conditions for flying. The weather was typically sunny and strong winds didn’t normally occur, but if they did, they typically occurred around sunset, when the instructors wanted new pupils out of the air anyway, since the longer shadows could deceive pilots flying at near-mach speeds.

  Physon waited for Blade with the flight instructors on the tarmac during a particularly dry, hot day. His olive green flight suit simply did not breath well, and he sweltered inside as evidenced by the sweat beading up on his forehead just under the raised visor. As Blade came rushing out of the barracks making the final adjustments on his flight suit, Physon rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry there, Gents,” Blade said gasping for breath. “These duds is harder to adjust than I thought they’d be.” Blade grabbed at his crotch. “And awful uncomf’able too.”

  Blade’s flight instructor couldn’t resist the opportunity to mess with his pupil. “You think these are bad. Just wait to see how bad you chafe after spending a few years in that spacesuit.”

  Blade’s eyes grew as big a golf balls, while Paol smiled widely at the gesture, and queried Blade’s instructor, “So, Arjen. I don’t remember seeing the hand gesture for grabbing yourself. Should we have practiced that in the simulator so we know how to adjust for it out here?”

  Playing along, Arjen responded, “There was never an intended gesture, but the computer misinterpreted it occasionally as a dive maneuver, so we had to reprogram the dive signal to prevent it from happening again after the last accident.”

  “Accident?” Blade leaned closer, his face glistening with sweat, mostly from the heat, but partly because of the anxiety of his first solo flight.

  “Yeah, we couldn’t figure it out for the longest, but after collecting enough data from the black boxes, we finally pieced together what was going wrong. Why, even Metch here had a nearly fatal moment while adjusting himself.”

  Arjen gestured to Paol’s flight instructor, who shrugged his shoulder and tipped his head in affirmation. “It can happen to the best of us.”

  “That does it!” Blade spat. “Take me back to prison. This ain’t gonna work out!”

  “Now, Blade,” said Arjen. “I’m just kidding about the accident.”

  “I know that,” said Blade. “That’s not why I’m callin’ it quits. This monkey suit is so hot and uncomf’able that I’d rather crash and burn than to stay inside it fo’ ‘nother minute.”

  “Let’s get you up in the plane, Blade. It’ll be better when you get out of this heat.” Arjen’s former playful voice was transformed into a tone of serious business.

  The XJ-20 experts walked their students through vehicle and suit inspections, instructed the new pilots to climb into their cockpits, drop their visors, and buckle themselves in to the seat. The pair of instructors then returned to an air conditioned building and put on communication headsets as each sat at an override control terminal which the instructor could use to gain control of the aircraft should either student make a mistake in flight.

  Paol and Blade turned on his headset and waited for instructions, as they sat side-by-side on the tarmac. They made eye contact with each other along the way, when Paol gave a thumbs-up to his colleague across the
way. Blade nodded his head slightly and bared his white teeth through a forced smile. He was extremely nervous about his first flight, but he was comforted in knowing that he’d be up in the air with his good friend. He took a deep breath realizing that that there was a safety net sitting at a control panel on the ground below.

  “XJ-1, do you copy?” came the voice over the communication channel.

  “Roger, Ground 1,” replied Paol.

  Another voice repeated the question. “XJ-2, do you copy?”

  “Yes, sir!” Blade attempted to exude confidence in his response, but his voice crackled dryly.

  “XJ-1, initiate startup sequencing.”

  Paol engaged his HOC, turned on the main power supply, and waved his hands in the proper gesture to engage ignition. He heard a soft rapid clicking noise and a high-pitch whistle that grew higher until it was out of audio range. The jets kicked in, and Paol confirmed that all systems checked.

  Similar displays indicated successful startup in the control room as well.

  “XJ-1, please confirm startup.”

  “Startup successful, Ground 1.”

  “XJ-2, initiate startup sequencing.”

  “Roger, Ground 2.” This time Blade’s voice was all business. While his hands trembled slightly, he was focused and ready to fly. “Startup successful, Ground 2.”

  “XJ-1, you will take-off on runway 3. Please proceed to runway.”

  “I’m on my way, Ground 1.”

  “XJ-2, please proceed to runway 1.”

  “Roger, Ground 2.”

  The planes proceeded in parallel away from the buildings and as the pair started for their respective runways, the pilots gave each other some final encouragement.

  “Good luck, XJ-2,” Paol spoke.

  “See ya’ back on the ground soon, XJ-1.”

  After taxiing to the end of their respective runways, the new pilots waiting for their next instruction. Paol glanced down the long runway, distorted by the heat waves rising from the black asphalt. Blade looked to the stillness of the blue sky and then glanced to his right and strained to see his companion across the way. The distance was too great to see more than a dark silhouette in the cockpit of the adjacent airplane.

  “XJ-1, XJ-2. You are both cleared for takeoff. Proceed when ready.”

  Paol and Blade responded affirmatively. Paol engaged the throttle first, and Blade followed soon behind. Superheated gas emerged from the engines of the airplanes as the flight instructors watched the planes amble down their respective runways while glancing back at the cockpit video on their control terminals to make sure that the advance of each pilot was successful for takeoff.

  Paol’s visor display indicated full speed, and with his left hand he slightly curled his fingers skyward. A smooth motion ensued as the aircraft nudged its way off the ground and into the air. Within moments, Blade’s aircraft roared off the runway and into the sky as well. The flight instructors could hear the roar of the engines for a couple of minutes. Within ten minutes, the binoculars of the instructors became useless. They switched off their headsets and conversed.

  “Not bad for a first takeoff, huh?”

  “Yeah. I saw a little veering down the runway from Blade, but he was pretty steady in the air.”

  “I always remember my first time when I see these newbies lifting off. It was so much easier than I feared.”

  “Yeah, I expect these guys to be pretty excited when they get back. After getting the first flight under the belt, you can’t help wanting to get back up there. It’s just plain addicting.”

  Once in the air, Blade and Paol separated themselves as instructed gaining sufficient altitude to do some free maneuvers. This helped them gain a feeling for the real aircraft instead of the simulator back in Houston. While Blade continued heading north, Paol veered off to the east.

  Blade watched the four blue flames of Paol’s jet engines propel him away. “XJ-1, this is XJ-2. Where ya’ takin’ that bird of yers?” he inquired.

  “I think I’ll head over to the Great Salt Lake. It should be interesting to see the salt flats from high in the sky.”

  “Uh… is it ok to fly there?” The tone of Blade’s voice made the statement sound half like a question, and half like a reprimand.

  “We can fly anywhere we want, XJ-2… as long as we have enough gas to return home.”

  “Ground 2, is this true? Are we allowed to fly anywheres? There ain’t no restricted air space fer us?”

  “Affirmative, XJ-2. Your display will warn you if you are converging on any other aircraft in the vicinity, in which case you will be able to take evasive maneuvers quickly enough.”

  “I’m just surprised that astronaut candidates are allowed to fly with no restrictions.”

  “XJ-2. You are not quite at astronaut candidate status yet, but your status as preparation for the Earth2 mission gives you permission to do just about anything you want.”

  A smile came on Blade’s face as he let his left arm extend outward to indicate a hard left bank. Arjen sat forward in his seat perplexed by the sudden hard change in course, while Paol’s instructor, noticing the movement glanced away from his cockpit display with concern.

  “What’s wrong, Arjen?”

  His concern was answered with a raised hand gesture from Blade’s flight instructor. “XJ-2, you are engaged in a vastly sudden change in course heading. Is everything ok?”

  “Never better, Ground 2.”

  Growing more direct, Arjen probed. “Where are you heading, XJ-2?”

  “Well, I always wanted to see Vegas. I’m headin’ to Las Vegas, Ground 2.”

  Arjen sat back in a seat shaking his head and smiling at Blade’s playful exuberance. “That’s a negative, XJ-2. There is heavy air congestion in Southern Nevada—not recommended for a first flight.”

  “Ground 2. D’ya not just say I could goes anywhere I want?”

  Arjen’s smile evaporated while Metch started snickering at his partner’s sudden dismay.

  “That is true, XJ-2. But I don’t recommend going there on a first flight. There will be plenty of time to do a fly-by of the Strip.”

  “So why’s it ok fo’ Paol to head to Salt Lake City—that airport’s much busier than Vegas, ain’t it? Nah—I’m headin’ to Vegas, Arjen. See ya’ in a couple of hours.”

  “XJ-2,” said Metch now, trying to compose himself. “This is Ground 1.”

  “Go ‘head, Ground 1.”

  “Put twenty on the roulette wheel for me, would you?”

  Blade and Metch enjoyed a hearty laugh, while Arjen still disapproved of Blade’s joy ride.

  “Paol, can you talk some sense into your partner?” Arjen asked sincerely.

  “Hey, Blade,” called Paol.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think Arjen is right. Why don’t you choose a different location? Maybe you could spot a movie star in Hollywood.”

  Arjen’s eyes grew wide at the thought. “NO… no… Las Vegas is just fine, XJ-2.”

  Laughter filled three of the headsets simultaneously. Ground 2 had become the butt of the joke, but it was all in good humor, and spirits continued to fly high as the two aircraft vectored off in opposite directions—Paol flying northeast to the Bonneville Salt Flats, and Blade venturing southwest towards Las Vegas.

  “Just remember,” added Arjen. “You have to stay within 100 miles of the border, or else you’ll get tagged by law enforcement. My orders are clear—I will override if you get too close.”

  “Roger that, Ground 2!” The response from Blade was filled with excitement as he peered towards the south keeping an eye out for Las Vegas.

  The next five minutes passed in relative silence. Blade and Paol continued to acquaint themselves with some of the responses to various hand gestures, but there were no significant stunts performed. Arjen and Metch continued to monitor the progress of their pupils, but all was calm, until a voice rang out over the headset.

  “Ground 1, why am I seeing—”

  Met
ch leaned forward in his chair and breathed an expletive.

  “What happened?” As soon as he asked, he realized that the answer was an obvious one. The cockpit display for Paol’s XJ aircraft went immediately dark.

  “XJ-1, do you copy? This is Ground 1. I’ve lost your display. Please respond.”

  The silence grew more disturbing with each passing moment.

  “XJ-1, do you copy?”

  “XJ-2, this is Ground 1. Do you copy?”

  “Yes, I do, Ground 1.”

  “Can you identify XJ-1’s location?”

  “Negative, Ground 1. XJ-1 is not on my radar.”

  “XJ-2, can you proceed to a heading of 175 degrees?” The request was moot, as Blade had already performed a hard bank. With his display focused on the last known location of Paol’s jet, Blade abandoned his trip to Las Vegas, and began pursuing after Paol. After pulling out of the bank, Blade gave the signal for rapid acceleration. His body was pegged to the seat as the fire of the engines thrust the aircraft forward with violent force.

  “Not so fast, please, XJ-2,” implored Arjen. “There is no reason to jeopardize your own safety over what is probably just a communication glitch.”

  There was no response from Blade, as he continued to accelerate.

  “Blade, I can take over control of your aircraft. Please throttle back on acceleration. I doubt there’s anything to worry about.”

  “What if there is?”

  “Then there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about it anyway. You can’t exactly pull up beside Paol and offer him a ride, you know?”

  Blade’s acceleration continued.

  “Blade, listen to reason, please.”

  Just as Arjen was about to take over the controls, he noticed that Blade’s acceleration was dropping. His speed leveled out.

  “This ok, Ground 2?” Blade asked simply, yet dejectedly.

  “Just fine, Blade. I understand that you are worried. At your current speed, you should at least be at his last known position in about five minutes. Keep an eye out in case he has turned his aircraft back towards the base, ok?”