The Orthogonal Galaxy

by Michael L. Lewis

  Blade turned to gain eye contact with Paol. “It’s from the apostle Paul. The very same who said ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ Ya’ see, Paol, what the apostle understood is that you can actually believe in things without seein’ ‘em. There’s been billions who believed that God was their Creator, and they ain’t seen Him either.”

  “You see, I just don’t understand that… why do they believe something they can’t see?”

  “Didn’t I just answer that question?” Blade responded waving his hands in great animation. “It’s faith, man… faith.”

  Paol was clearly unimpressed.

  “Look, Paol, faith’s really the drivin’ motivation fer everythin’ in life. When the Sun sets in the evenin’, you don’t worry ‘bout it gettin’ dark fo’ever. Ya’ have faith the Sun will rise in the mornin’. When you see that Sun, ya’ get outta bed, and go into the office, ‘cuz ya’ have faith that you’ll close that big business deal that will provide fo’ yer family.”

  “But, that’s different, Blade. I have faith in those things, because I know they will work. They worked in the past, they can work again in the future. Religious faith is so much different.”

  “Is it, now?” Blade raised his eyebrows as he stared piercingly at his companion. “The faith you talk ‘bout is based on evidence of yer experiences in life. Religious faith ain’t so different. In fact, Paul used the word evidence—evidence that there’s a supreme Creator who guides and directs yer life—evidence that miracles happen even today. We may not read ‘bout lepers gettin’ healed, or people walkin’ on water, or water turnin’ to wine, but in the day to day life of millions who’s developed faith, they’ll tell ya’ that they’ve seen miracles in their lives.”

  “Have you, Blade?” Paol inquired softly. “Have you seen miracles in your life?”

  “Why—of all the people to ask the question, I’d expect you to be the last, Paol. You know more ‘bout my life than any other person on Earth1, but let’s review anyway. A black boy’s born in an inner city ghetto, gets no decent education, has little support of family, and little future to speak of. He robs a bank, shoots an officer, and finds himself servin’ hard time, all befo’ becomin’ an adult. Where’s that black boy today? He’s a world famous astronaut with a well-rounded, self-taught education on the most historic and audacious space mission ever attempted. Some may look on that as a coincidence, but as fo’ that black boy himself, he sees it as a true miracle, Paol—a true miracle.”

  Paol sat for a moment in silence, contemplating these last words, but persisted in his skepticism. “What about my life, Blade? What miracles have there been in my life? I was wrongly accused of a crime I did not commit, separated from my family, sentenced to life in prison, and as a result my life was ruined due to a legal technicality.”

  Blade turned his head away from Paol and stared out at the vast collection of stars. Paol could see focused concentration on his face during the intent silence. At last, he spoke softly, yet confidently. “Purpose—,” he hung on the word to make sure Paol would understand, “isn’t always seen through the windshield, but often through the rear view mirror.”

  Paol squinted and drew his lips into a tight line. He laid his head on the back of his seat and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to think. Could there be a purpose in all of this? Purpose to the injustices he and his family had suffered? The only purpose he could see in being separated from his family and risking his life was to appease the curiosity of his fellow man, who had been seeking extra-terrestrial intelligence for many generations. It all seemed so unnecessary.

  …

  “Cap’n, we’ve reached maximum velocity.” Small beads of sweat betrayed Blade’s anxiety. Wide eyes formed large white circles, as Blade focused on the navigational display ahead of him.

  “Well, Blade, here we go, then,” Paol stated with a deep breath. “Proceed to ease us into the path of the comet.”

  The Star Transport was traveling at maximum velocity in the direction of the comet’s path exactly parallel to its orbit. Astronauts Joonter and Slater had officially begun the ‘suicide’ part of their mission. All knew that the most dangerous aspect of the mission was to insert themselves into the path of the comet, where debris shed from the superluminal rock was traveling at tens of thousands of times faster than the speed of light. Although microscopic is size, these tiny particles would soon slam into the back of the Star Transport and propel the vehicle on its course towards Earth2—if all went well. If it didn’t go so well, these tiny particles would penetrate the Star Shield, the Star Transport, and the pair of defenseless astronauts.

  Their hearts were racing in quiet apprehension as the displays ahead of them showed a model of Star Transport easing closer to a yellow line, representing the path of travel of the comet. In due course, they received their first impact sensor detection.

  “Right topside wing impact,” Blade indicated. “Zero point six seven five warp. Sensor function normal. No aberrations in systems.”

  “Looks like your faith in NASA’s faith was well-founded after all, Mr. Slater. We are certainly in the neighborhood of our ride.”

  Whether Blade actually heard this or not, Paol could not know. Certainly, Blade didn’t acknowledge the statement, either because of his intense focus, or because he simply had nothing to say in response to being right on his belief that data set 13009 would provide the correct coordinates for their rendezvous.

  “Another right topside wing. Zero point six seven five warp.”

  “Where are we to the galactic plane, Blade?”

  “Pretty much dead center.”

  “Hmmm… let’s stay the course. We’ve received two topside impacts. Makes me suspect that the comet tail may be slightly above the galactic plane, but we need more details to extrapolate correctly.”

  “How ‘bout this one: right topside… uh… make that two right wing topsides. Zero point six seven six warp.”

  “Ease us up out of the galactic plane, Blade. We need the particles to hit us straight on, or we may get pushed right out of the path. Let’s correct the heading for direct parallel travel as well. I want to get enough of these rare impact events to help us stabilize a more parallel entry to the beam.”

  “Yes, sir… I’m correctin’ the headin’ by plus zero zero three five. I also have two more topside wing impacts, and one topside fuselage. All sensors and systems still functional.”

  Blade and Paol worked on course correction for an hour—longer than they had hoped to, but they eventually found the orbital plane of the comet to be slightly elevated above the plane of the Milky Way, by about fourteen thousand miles. While NASA was able to detect the radiation impact of the comet’s fly-by, all they could use to calculate the trajectory was the single event as registered around the world’s ground-spaced telescopes as well as the instruments orbiting the Earth, Moon and Mars. They quickly calculated an estimated trajectory, which proved accurate enough to ballpark, but not precise enough to give an exact orbit. Rough calculations of the comet’s orbit were calculated at four thousand miles above the galactic plane, plus or minus twenty thousand miles. The calculation proved to be about ten thousand miles off, but was close enough to give Star Transport enough high-speed particle impact data to allow it to correct its course.

  Once they had received a direct particle impact rate of 98%, they began to steer the ship once again towards the center of the beam, where the extremely high-speed particles would propel them towards their destination. Soon, the spaceship was being peppered by particles of comet powder at the rate of several hundred per minute. They watched the data eagerly: rate of impact, average direction of impact, maximum speed of impact, sensor health. No detail was missed by the pair, as they began to immerse themselves into the comet’s path. Their minds raced, and both thought frequently about the last time NASA attempted to inject man-made objects into the yellow beam several years ago. At the end of the experiment, the comet tail
managed to pulverize all twelve paddles that were injected into the stream. Now, these two clung to the hope that NASA got it right in creating an experiment which would not prove to be the thirteenth fatal failure against the violent nature of the comet. Paol and Blade had to admit that so far, everything was going according to plan. The Star Transport had made its way deeper into the beam than before, although the tension was only growing greater as they watched the speed of impact grow.

  Blade broke a rather tense moment of silence, pointing to the display. “Looks like the maximum impact speed is nearin’ the speed of light, Paol.”

  Paol swallowed hard. “Zero point nine two warp.”

  The astronauts stared at the display watching this rate increase slowly and steadily: 0.93… 0.94… 0.95.

  “How you feeling, Buddy?” Paol looked over at his companion, who was looking a bit pale.

  “So far, so good, Partna’, but we’ve got a long way to go to reach our ultimate velocity, and this tin can is shakin’ more than I’d like it to. If it continues to rattle like this, I don’t think the thing’s gonna stay together at twenty-seven thousand times the speed of light.”

  “You know—”, Paol began.

  When Blade discerned that Paol would not finish the sentence, he quipped, “Nope… can’t say I do know… especially since I don’t know what you’re thinkin’ I know.”

  Paol gave a slight smile of appreciation for Blade’s attempted wisecrack in this most tense of situations.

  “I was just thinking out loud—it’s nothing really.”

  “Now, go on… tell me whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout.”

  “I was just wondering if we should turn this ship around. I really agree with you—this thing can’t take the beating it’s going to receive, can it?”

  “Paol!” Blade exclaimed in disappointment. “Don’t even tell me you’re serious ‘bout that. Why, just exactly whatcha think NASA is goin’ to say when we tell them that we’ve done chickened out on their multi-billion dollar mission. D’ya think the President’ll pardon us still? Besides… how would ya’ be able to live with ya’self, knowin’ that ya’ backed out.”

  “I’d live with myself better if I were alive, Blade.”

  “You really believe that? C’mon, Paol. You know we gotta do this. We can’t back out fo’ no reason. We accepted it. We trained fer it. We live by it… and maybe—but hopefully not—we die by it.”

  Paol grew agitated. “You fool!” He shouted. “You’d rather kill yourself over a principle than accept defeat?”

  “Defeat! Who says we’ve been defeated? Nothin’ but yer cowardice, Joonter. Fo’ someone who knows so much ‘bout science and business, please tell me how you missed so much ‘bout principles and life. This thing, Paol—it’s bigger than you or me. We were born, and someday we’ll die. After you’re long gone, who’s gonna care ‘bout yer pittance of a life and the successful business ya’ built up. Earth1 will keep on spinnin’, people will keep on livin’, and you’ll just be six feet under the ground. What purpose will yer life have if ya’ selfishly live it fo’ yerself. You have the opportunity to do somethin’ great—somethin’ very, very few people get the chance to do. Whether ya’ live to return to Earth1 or not, yer legacy will be better served by yer tryin’ this mission instead of slinkin’ back home to some prison cell, while ya’ hope that yer lawyer comes up with some way of gettin’ ya’ back to yer no-purpose existence of closin’ business deals and inventin’ stuff that nobody really needs in the first place. Big deal. Others would do it if you’s never born anyway. This here—this is what I call livin’. And if I die doin’ it? So be it. At least people will remember Blade Slater as the first person to attempt warp-speed travel. Others will be inspired, follow perhaps in my footsteps, until they succeed at it. Now that is livin’ to me.”

  Paol grew sullen, but undeterred. He spoke quietly, but firmly. “Blade, listen to reason. The Star Transport is getting a very violent treatment. You can feel the pounding we are getting.” Paol pointed to the sensor impact display. “Zero point nine eight warp. We’re only facing the beginning of the storm with particles hitting us at zero point nine eight warp. The vehicle will not be able to hold together when we get bombarded with particles traveling five orders of magnitude greater. Don’t you think we can provide more data to NASA if we return the ship in one piece? The engineers will be able to analyze the data and beef up the ship for a more successful run at it.”

  Blade bowed his head and closed his eyes. Remaining in this position, he finally answered his partner. “I’m hearin’ ya’ loud and clear, Paol. And, what I’m hearin’ and realizin’ is that yer heart’s just not in this thing.” He looked up into Paol’s face. “I do think the mission is a failure, but mainly because the mission can’t affo’d doubt—it can’t affo’d self-absorbed fear. If this was goin’ to work, it was gonna do it by an unflinchin’ resolve on both our parts. Do I feel the ship heavin’? Do I feel it shakin’? Yeah, I do. But, I also look at the data in front of me, and I see that we ain’t lost a single system yet. Not a single sensor failed. I think we don’t know exactly what this ship is capable of. We’re almost in the portion of the tail that is strictly goin’ faster than the speed of light. I say if we really want NASA to have the data it will need to make the next mission a success, then we need to wait until the max—no—until the average impact is one point zero zero warp. At that point we’ll—”

  Blade stopped dead in his tracks. He lifted his head up, whirled it around to the right, to the left. His eyes widened. He glanced back over at Paol, and saw Paol clutching his seat with a dead-ahead stare that sent chills down his spine.

  “Paol, d’ya see it too?!”

  “Red… everything… is red.”

  “Yeah, I know, but why?” Blade blinked rapidly. Red still. He squinted. Red. He rubbed his eyes briskly with the palms of his hands. Red. Everything was still visible, but it was all cast in a deep red. The video displays, the cockpit lights, his pilot. Everything was red.

  Finally, a bright red flash took both astronauts by surprised, forcing their eyes shut. Both men held their hands tightly over their eyes. Blade laid his head back against his seat, while Paol had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hands still covering his eyes.

  They remained in this position, not daring to peek, not daring to move. The violent heaving of the Star Transport and the bright red glare left them helpless. They were now at the mercy of the debris that was propelling them forward. For a couple of minutes, both astronauts had resigned themselves to certain calamity, when suddenly, the violent shaking ceased, and a quiet calm overcame the cockpit.

  Paol was the first to move a muscle. Lifting his head slowly, he removed his right hand from his face and opened his eyelid to just a thin slit. He saw no red and risked opening his eye all the way. Everything looked normal. He opened both eyes and looked all around him. He saw Blade with his head back and his eyes covered.

  “Uh, Blade… I think it’s safe to open your eyes again.”

  Blade slowly pulled his hands away from his eyes but left them against his temple to form a small tunnel through which he could look while keeping his eyes shielded.

  “Well that was strange,” he admitted while folding his hands in his lap. His head still lay back against the seat, as he dared not move, fearing that it would disrupt the delicate equilibrium between normality and redness. While sitting in this repose for quite some time, he heard a gasp from Paol.

  “I don’t believe it!” Paol exclaimed.

  “What is it, Cap’n,” Blade looked over.

  “If the data is to be believed, we are being impacted by particles traveling twelve hundred times the speed of light. And Star Transport herself is now traveling at zero point nine seven warp.”

  “Look here, Paol. Take a look at this chart. It shows our velocity relative to our time. Right here—about one minute ago, ya’ see our acceleration had been pretty linear, but then ya’ see this sharp turn, and our speed increa
sed severely in just a few seconds. I’m guessin’ this was around the time everythin’ went red. After the sharp rise, there’s another significant bend in the curve right here, where the acceleration settled back down. It looks like the ship wanted to be launched into superluminal velocity, but hit the ceilin’ just below the speed of light.”

  “Can you overlay that with the particle impact speed?”

  Both astronauts gasped when they recognized the correlation. The moment where the acceleration curve turned sharply upward was the precise moment the impact sensors measured their first 1.0 warp particle impact.

  “Whatcha make of it, Paol?” Blade inquired.

  “I don’t know, but it looks like even the tiniest of warp-speed particles packs a real big punch, don’t you think? For us to be vaulted from just over zero point five warp to zero point nine seven warp in a heartbeat indicates that the power of the warp speed particles is something far greater than we can imagine.”

  “If that’s so,” thought Blade, “then why’d the propulsion seem to end at zero point nine seven.”

  Paol’s voice grew more excited as he brainstormed through ideas about what they were experiencing. “It actually looks like it stopped around zero point nine six. We’re still accelerating, just more slowly. I’m thinking that we’ve hit some physical barrier that is making it difficult on the particles to push us past the speed of light, even with all of their might.”

  Blade’s hands typed quickly on a pair of touch screen panels. Another graph emerged. “And how d’ya account fo’ this?”

  Paol frowned and wrinkled up his forehead. “This graph is curious. If I’m reading this correctly, then right up to the point where we had our first warp-speed impact, we were slowly going deeper into the tail of the comet. As we did so, the particle speed increased pretty linearly. But right when we reach the warp speed boundary, the particle impact speed quickly jumped from one point zero zero to 1203 warp almost instantaneously. Where are all of the particles in between?”

  “Could there be some dead zone where particles can’t travel? Perhaps once ya’ hit the speed of light, there’s a quantum step up to twelve hundred?”