Too late to intervene and prevent the deaths, the Others took a ‘hands off’ approach.
The Others expected us to destroy the Earth and make it uninhabitable.
They maintain a connection to Earth via the portals. They are monitoring Earth. But, they no longer interact with Humans.
Until us. Until we gained the ability to use the other Fabric. Until we could teleport using the negative-mass. When they saw me, using the negative-mass Fabric, they reached out to Ire and Yari, who confirmed I was capable.
The rest you know.
It’s not that the Others are benevolent, nor are they evil. They are merely another sentient species. A species with a few thousand millennia head start on humanity.”
“That’s all rather interesting but doesn’t wash. Why didn’t they stop the development at Los Alamos? They could have prevented the first test. Something doesn’t add up.”
MooMoo did not accept Corb’s story about the Others.
“Captain Moody, you can believe or not. Your belief or opinion about the Others is of no consequence. I have no reason to lie or deceive you or this crew. I am simply telling you what I know.”
“Corb, you mentioned a couple of things to discuss. What else did you have for us?”
Michelle verbally stepped between Corb and Captain Moody to stop the argument before it started.
“Yes, of course. I have some good news. We will drop out of the slipstream in a couple of days, maybe a week.”
Cheers erupted with high-fives and fist bumps all around.
“How? I mean, we should have about three or four more weeks?”
Ragnar was confused.
“The Others have assisted our effort and pulled us through the negative-mass.”
Everyone’s spirits were high, the back slapping, and jovial conversation resumed, as they exited the galley. Captain Moody pasted a wry smile on his face and strolled off toward his berth.
Chapter Eleven
We Salute the Deflector Shield
“Luck is believing you're lucky.” – Tennessee Williams
“What the heck happened? What time is it?”
Himari Tanaka, a mission specialist, whose current rotation put her on the day shift, was chafing at being called to the bridge in the middle of the night. Normally dressed in a pressed, crisp, uniform of slacks and a well-fitted shirt, seeing Himari in jeans and a tee-shirt surprised everyone.
“It is twenty-three-oh-eight, GMT, and the ship has dropped out of the slipstream.”
Captain Joshua Turner, aka Turder, was sitting at the pilot’s console and, for the six minutes since the Jeannette dropped out of the slipstream, was answering a steady stream of questions. Himari who seldom spoke continued asking questions.
“Okay. Why? Have we arrived?”
“No, we have not reached our destination. We are calculating distance now. We have a celestial fix, but the math will take the computer a few minutes to calculate distance. Why did we drop out of the slipstream? The deflector shield went offline.”
The console stations filled up with arrivals to the bridge, everyone looking at their respective area of responsibility. Eventually, Turner reported their status.
“We are approximately six light years from our destination. We are drifting at about two-fifths light speed, on a declining curve. If we don’t apply thrust, the curve of the velocity decline will exponentially increase. Before anyone asks, yes, there is friction in space. Not a lot of friction, but some. The decline will be gradual. The pulse engines are fully operational.
If we can determine why the deflector went offline, and correct the problem, we can accelerate back into the slipstream.”
“Captain, the deflector shield went offline because it lost power. There must be a failed coupling in the forward power conduit.”
Chief Petty Officer Bryan Symington, aka Chief, had been ignoring the status report. He was running diagnostics on the deflector shield and the rest of his space vessel The Jeannette.
Slipping back into a formal military posture, Captain Moody began issuing orders.
“Captain Turner, continue your assessment and calculations. Assuming we repair the deflector shield, extrapolating from distance and time traveled, how long to the destination?
Good work Chief. How long to confirm the problem?”
“Brando is in the process of suiting up to trace the power relay to the coupling where we determined the failure is most likely located. It will take Brando about twenty minutes to exit the interlock, traverse the bulkheads between the hulls, and reach the forward power relays.
Between the hulls, while the inner hull is rotating, is an unsafe place. We will stop the rotation to make the repairs. It is easier to suit-up with pseudo gravity. When the suit-up is complete, and Brando is in the interlock, we will stop the rotation. Copy Brando?”
“Confirmed. Suit-up and make ready. Report when interlock is sealed.”
Everyone in a seat buckled their shoulder and lap straps. Everyone standing moved to a location where they could grasp a handhold. Applying the braking mechanism required nine minutes to stop the inner hull from rotating.
Brandon Evans, aka Brando, who was floating in the interlock was awaiting the order to exit and start moving between the inner and outer hulls.
“Captain, we are good to go.”
“Brando, proceed when ready.”
The crew could hear Brando’s breathing and exertions through the open communications channel.
Always one to fill the void of silence, Nick peeped.
“Why do they call you Turder? I get it Turner, Turder. But what’s the real story bucko?”
Every time someone asked about his nickname, Lieutenant Joshua Turner wanted to go back to flight school and kill his life-long best friend for giving him the name.
“Every pilot gets a nickname in flight school. Someone announces the nickname, there is a kangaroo court, and you live with it for the rest of your life. Anyway… The first time we pulled negative Gs, serious airframe stressing… Turns out my pressure suit was faulty. I passed out. When I woke up… Well, fighter pilots wear diapers for a reason.”
The civilian crew stayed quiet and looked away, not knowing how to react to the story. The career military laughed out. Turder stared at his screen and focused on the navigation calculations.
Brando stopped laughing and reported status.
“Captain, I have reached the relays. Yep, the coupling DF-101FS is toast. Confirm the power is isolated and I’ll replace the coupling.”
“Roger Brando. Confirmed, replacing power coupling DF-101FS. Chief?”
“Confirmed, power to coupling is isolated, proceed when ready Brando.”
A couple of minutes passed with the sound of wrenching, and occasional ting of metal on metal, over the open intercom.
“Coupling replaced. Thirty seconds to safe distance.”
In case there was another problem, Brando backed up from the coupling.
“Safe distance achieved. Chief, return power to the relay.”
“Returning power in three, two, one, power.”
“Well it did not explode. Give me ten to get back to the interlock before you fire-up the deflector. Whoa, what is that?”
“Brando, confirm ten minutes to interlock. What was the second part?”
“I found something Captain. I’ll bring it with me to the interlock. Recommend security status Alpha-One.”
“Captain Evans, this is Captain Moody, confirm you are requesting security status Alpha-One?”
“Captain Evans here, confirmed, requesting security status Alpha-One.”
Everyone was looking at everyone else. No one excepted a heightened level of security.
“Why did we go all-stop? We are dead in space. This can’t be good. How long before we are unable to clean the air? Isn’t it going to take a significantly longer time to reach maximum velocity?”
Cassandra was not thinking like an experienced military veteran. Cassandra had
not yet grasped the implications of the device Brando found in the forward relay junction.
The entire crew of the Jeannette were standing at a work table, in the starboard cargo hold, looking at a small device. A stainless-steel rectangle, twelve inches, by eight inches, and four inches tall. The only indication it was active were two small green LEDs alternating at and interval of one second.
The Chief, Brando, Turder, Nick, and Himari had taken more than three hours to examine the device. MooMoo responded.
“We are dead in space because I ordered all-stop. Chief?”
The Chief spoke for the exam team.
“Captain, it is a transponder. Someone placed it behind a bulkhead in the forward relay junction. It sends out a signal not strong enough to reach Earth before everyone there is dead and buried. It must be controlling something else. Something on the Jeannette.”
NT interrupted the Chief’s report.
“Chief, you said transponder. Transponder implies to send and to receive. From where does input signal originate?”
“We have no idea, but we suspect the LEDs correlate to two devices within proximity.”
Everyone looked at everyone else. Where normally, the military personnel would look to the commander, everyone eventually landed on Corb.
Without a word, Corb picked up the device and looked to Janish with a nod. Janish nodded back.
“Captain, please maintain relative position. I will return in under twenty minutes. Janish, please stay connected.”
Realizing what Corb was about to do, the group erupted with shouts of concern.
“Too far.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Returning is hitting the tip of a needle with a bullet at a thousand miles.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Nope, not crazy. Yet. I can go to the portal in Xunantunich and from there to Mission Control.”
Not wanting any more arguments. Corb kissed Michelle, smiled to the group, took a deep breath, and teleported away with the device.
“Now we wait until Corb returns or we run out of air. That makes it time for a beer.”
Nick walked toward the galley. Everyone not on the current duty shift followed. Waiting was better with beer.
Corb made it easily to the Xunantunich portal and was happy to breath the stale air. The small box weighed about six pounds which was enough to add two-hundred seconds to the teleportation duration.
Stating to the crew he was going to Mission Control was a fib. Corb did not want the crew to know what he thought about the device and its origin.
Corb teleports to the top of the temple, to breath the cool evening air, and contemplate.
How do I play this? If I am wrong… What if I am wrong? They can do nothing and will want to know if someone else is trying to manipulate the mission. That’s it, I’ll go there. They will not like me popping in uninvited… They will get over it.
Ire and Yari appeared and looked concerned. Bowing slightly, Ire spoke.
“Enlightened One, we are happy you are well. We did not expect you to return so soon. How may we help you?”
Bowing slightly in return, Corb felt bad.
“I am sorry to have disturbed you. I did not come here because I need your help. I came to your home because I know the portal well. I traveled a long way. The portal was convenient, my apologies for disturbing you.”
Bowing again, Corb waited. Yari’s turn.
“Enlightened One, you can not disturb us. We are here to serve. Serving the Enlightened One is our desire. How may we help you?”
“No help is needed. Thank you both.”
I need to figure out how to get them to stop calling me that.
After bowing again, Corb teleported.
Arriving at Q'eqchi', Corb walked into the security office and tapped the sleeping guard on the shoulder.
“Wake Mister Khatter and Mister Kruger. Get them here immediately.”
Corb sat, titled his head back, against the wall, and closed his eyes.
“Mister Johnson. It is good to see you, but why are you here?”
“Davinder, Jan, sorry for the surprise at this hour. We found this on the Jeannette.”
Corb handed the device to Jan and continued.
“It is a transceiver. It is not powerful enough to reach Earth with any speed. It must be connected to something on the ship. The Chief’s conclusion is it is connected to two somethings on the ship. Oh no.”
Corb stopped, staring at the box.
“Those LEDs were flashing, now they are dark. I wonder if taking the box off the ship was a bad idea?”
“Corb, I am sure everything on the ship is fine. Why did you come here? What do you want us to do?”
“Jan, I wanted you two to know what happened. I am going to take this to the President. Make her give me some answers. If it doesn’t go well, you may want to disappear.”
“Mister Johnson, we are not going anywhere.”
“Yeah, "Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker!"
Davinder, Jan, thank you. But please be prepared.
“Always Corb.”
“Jan, pretty cool. An oldie but a goodie. Have not heard a good movie quote in weeks. Die Hard, right?”
“Yes, sir. Let us know what happens.”
“Thank you both.”
The Whitehouse Residence is quite small but Corb was sure he could make it to the Master Bedroom.
“Madam President, I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour.”
Waking up in a fog, the President sat up. Her husband continued to snore lightly.
“Mister Johnson, how did you get in… never mind, silly question. Why did you come here?”
“Madam President, did you order a failsafe, a self-destruct, device be placed on the Jeannette?”
Visibly disturbed by the question, the President quietly got out of bed and entered the private sitting room and closed the doors behind Corb.
“Mister Johnson, I did not order anything regarding a self-destruct for the Jeannette. Every rocket and shuttle have a self-destruct mechanism. At least anything built by us. Is it a self-destruct device? Are you sure of what it is?”
“Yes, Madam President. This is a transceiver and it is not powerful enough to reach earth. At least not easily. It would take many years to reach earth.
Which means, there must be other devices on the Jeannette. Are you sure you do not know anything about these devices?”
“Mister Johnson, I am not accustomed to having my word questioned but I understand your position. No, I did not order this device.”
“Meaning… someone on the build team is working to sabotage the mission.”
“My first thought also. Can you get back to the ship? Is the Jeannette still there?”
“Yes, I am connected to people on the ship.”
“Good. Good. What do you want me to do?”
“Davinder Katter and Jan Kruger are part of the Coterie and are still at the Q'eqchi' compound. I trust them and no one else.”
“They will have what they need.”
“Thank you, Madam President.”
Corb teleported, leaving the President wondering.
Davinder and Jan were waiting for Corb to return.
“You will have what you need. President Sanderson will be contacting you. I am going to leave this with you. When I arrive at Beta Carinae, I’ll use the portal and return for an update.
Until I return, guard the device and be safe. Whoever put it on the Jeannette will not be happy you have it.”
“Here take this with you. It’s got mail and news and movies on it. Don’t worry about us. You bring them back or you’ll have to answer to us. Got it, Kemosabe?”
“Jan, you need to get out more. Nineteen fifties television is warping your brain.”
“I deal with it daily Corb, but he is harmless. Be safe.”
“Thank you, Davinder.”
Handshakes all around before Corb teleported back to the Xunantunich portal. Standing in the
tunnel, contemplating, Corb had a realization.
What was I thinking? Of course, I will teleport to the portal on Beta Carinae then to Jeannette. The Jeannette is one-third as far from Beta Carinae as it is from Earth. Why didn’t I consider this before? Because I still think in a linear model. I need to think more widely and deeply.
Corb stepped in the portal and reappeared in a similar port on Beta Carinae. One of the Others was waiting, as if he knew Corb would appear. A slight bow before speaking, the Other did not speak audibly, his thoughts appeared in Corb’s mind.
“Welcome back, Enlightened One. Truly God has blessed you. We are happy you have changed your philosophy. When you arrive, there will much for you to learn. Shall I assist you in returning to the vessel?”
“Yes, please. One question, if I may?”
“Always, Enlightened One.”
“Can you help me shorten the remainder of the trip to your planet?”
“Of course, Enlightened One. You have always had the ability, here, let me show you.”
Corb felt a new sensation when the negative-mass Fabric opened. Corb realized the solution was obvious. To achieve a faster transit of the negative-mass Fabric: Drop the origination point. Staying connected to the origination point acted as a stabilizing anchor. It did not stop the teleportation but is slowed the time to traverse the distance. Retraining the origination point connection was equivalent to a sailboat dragging a mile-long robe in water.
Corb appeared on the bridge with only Turder seated at a console.
“Where is everyone?”
“They are all back in the starboard cargo hold. You should go there, they found something interesting.”
Chapter Twelve
Explosive Anticipation
“This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last.” – Oscar Wilde
“Welcome back. Although Janish and Lucinda kept saying you were alive, we were worried we would ever see you again. Anything to report?”
MooMoo, and the other military crew were looking in awe at Corb. The Coterie crew members were ignoring Corb and remained focused on two devices sitting on the table.
Time is an Illusion: The Ptolemy Expedition (Carina Book 1) Page 9
