by S V Hurn
Alex’s home was only on the market one day before he got an offer for the full asking price. Stuart was more than happy to take the reins for a while. Besides, Alex was ready for a career move. Felt he had been stagnating for some time and that he may be better suited for a research and development position at one of the nearby teaching hospitals, perhaps even UCLA. Then he would be able to see Athena in her comings and goings.
But for now, he wanted to be a part of this historic event and help Dorathy with the development of the Cryogenic capsules. They needed to redesign the actual apparatus in order to make it space worthy, while Dorathy worked on designing the method of getting them into space.
Dorathy’s initial designs for rocket propulsion were a means to an end, and were not entirely scrapped since the cryocapsules needed to be launched from space after being carried to just beyond the upper atmosphere in a low orbit by means of either Virgin Galactic Launcher One or by leasing a ride via the government-owned Shuttle Service.
The cryocapsule would then rocket beyond Earth’s gravity where the small liquid rocket booster would drop away and, after a timed sequence, the Space Bender would come online and the capsule would literally disappear, being snapped to an unknown destination.
But that was the tricky part.
This was not traveling through space at the speed of light, it was not even warping space to travel at the speed of light—this was a way of manipulating space, bending it to permit the ability to travel through it in an instant, as if it were a flexible fabric that could be stretched and contorted.
The how, who, and what were predictable; it was the where and, in particularly, the when that were not. Not in the sense of when will the technology be completed, but the when of a relationship to space-time. That is what truly seemed to elude human comprehension, as the theory of relativity may not be relative to the new Standard Model. The capsule would sit in its protected warp bubble as it passed through the fabric of space-time, creating a wormhole, stretching and contracting the space around it as it went.
Solving those problems would take a great deal of time, and finding those solutions would be a staggering challenge, but Dorathy was committed for the long haul. Her father had always said, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Dorathy was quite a competent engineer, but her arrogance may have gotten the best of her.
CHAPTER 12
When Dorathy got home, Alex was already there, trying to unpack the clothes and shoes he had packed in two giant suitcases. Alex heard the garage door open and went into the kitchen to greet her. He was standing there smiling and called out, “Honey, I’m home!”
Dorathy dropped her purse on the table and ran into his open arms to smother him with kisses. “You are home, my darling.”
She helped him put away his things and even moved some of her winter sweaters into the spare bedroom so he could have drawers for his socks and underwear. Being in a relationship, she knew, was all about giving and taking and a certain amount of compromise and understanding, even when it meant messing with her closet—that being her temple of sacred artifacts.
Alex was happy to do the grocery shopping and cooked a nice meal for the three of them. After dinner they all sat on the large sectional and watched a movie together like a family; Alex and Dorathy snuggled together on the chaise, feet up and propped with comfy pillows. Athena sat with her bare feet on the coffee table and the three of them passed back and forth a huge bowl of popcorn.
Alex could not be happier; he looked over at Athena and Dorathy and thought he was truly home. For the first time in a long time he had family. Life was grand and he had so many things to look forward to. A new career, a new outlook on his business; he couldn’t wait to get started.
So many positive things were happening; there was only one thing left to do and that was to ask Dorathy to marry him. He wanted the timing to be right—perhaps after the capsules were ready for testing would give them a stretch of time to tie the knot. A private beach wedding at her island compound with a much-needed vacation after what would be, no doubt, the grueling but rewarding challenge of getting them up into space. Yes, that would be the ticket.
The months pressed on. Alex would spend some days at home going over schematics for the cryogenic tubes; other days he found himself at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA lecturing about the advances of cryofreezing. Other days he would go on the road to promote his business, and every now and again, he would be invited to speak about 3D Bioprinting at Stanford University Medical Center. Life was busy, but he was having fun doing what he loved with a woman who had just as much fun as he, doing what she did best.
Dorathy was successfully integrating Alex’s designs for the cryotube into the canister that had been engineered as part of the space-going vessel, which had the—Space Bending Device. Better known as the SBD, built into its systems. Rocket boosters with an auto-release would be attached to the vessel.
Every minute detail needed to be addressed. It seemed to be a never-ending job. The original specifications of the project were to design a way to send cryogenic capsules, which held a recently deceased person, into space. They were meant only to keep a person preserved with the same care as those patients not bound for space.
But delegates from CERN and the ICSU had other ideas for Dorathy’s team’s designs and cryogenic technology. Their intention to use the discovery and the designs for the device as well as the tested and proven science of cryogenics, was known only to a select few and well-guarded. Most of all, they needed Dorathy for their secret mission. This mission would change humanity and the course of life on Earth.
CHAPTER 13
Hugo had contacted CERN and ICSU delegates and ruffled their feathers a bit to see what they were up to. He pretty much demanded an old-fashioned face-to-face meeting with them. On JPL’s turf.
As they approached one of the many conference rooms at JPL, one of the representatives from CERN spoke up. “What we are curious about is the technology for cryogenic freezing. We are interested in utilizing the technology as a method to transport humans through deep space to colonize distant planets that have been discovered to support life.” No one was surprised to hear this information, least of all Dorathy.
Dorathy held open the office door, and when everyone had been seated, took her place at the conference table with Hugo and Jack to either side of her. A handful of delegates sat opposite and announced that they wanted access to the area where the first prototype was being assembled. Dorathy was arguing that the conveyance being built was intended to be a one-way ticket for a deceased individual. “What you are proposing requires a different design—I completely agree with what you are saying there. We would need to be able to control where this thing goes and where it ends up, that is, if you plan on sending living breathing people out there. Look,” Dorathy reasoned, “the cryocapsules are a perfect platform for testing to see if it even works. Testing, being the key word here. The occupants are dead,” Dorathy said, restating the obvious.
Carman Mallia, the quiet man with the dark hair and goatee she had met briefly at CERN, was suggesting freezing living people for the purpose of deep space travel. “What you are not getting,” Dorathy tried to explain, “is that these people are not coming back!”
Carman persisted, “I understand that, but what we are suggesting is that if they are frozen, they can survive for many years, if need be. They can then be revived once they reach their destination.”
Dorathy said calmly, trying not to sound condescending, “The playing field has changed with this new method of traveling through space. In the past, space travel had taken many months to reach a destination such as Mars. Solar radiation was just one of the factors that made the mission so challenging.”
BINGO! At that very moment Dorathy realized that the solution to preserving the lives of space travelers was staring her in the face. It was so incredibly simple. The key word was frozen, not enhanced. Planning a mission around the thirt
y-year-old mentality of the Mars Mission, prior to the successful technology of cryogenics and with its usage of synthetic DNA enhancements were made to transport human occupants with serious long-term consequences. But this didn’t change the fact that her design was for a one-way ticket to—the pivotal component—WHERE? Time spent in transit should be removed from the equation. And, with the new cryogenic technology, it was essentially no longer an issue.
Dorathy shook her head. “Okay, okay . . . but we still need to find out how to control WHERE these things go. What you’re proposing is a whole other animal. I propose that we test it on cryogenically frozen DEAD occupants, who want to stay dead, for one final adventure into the unknown. That is what we will sell here. So, WHERE they end up will be of no concern to them. It’s simple: these clients won’t care where they end up, as long as they end up somewhere far from here.”
It was time for Hugo to make his pitch. “Look, fellas, I know what you want, and that’s doable. We need to test it on these dead poor bastards, and we have already got a ton of these folks signed up for a fantastic journey into the unknown. We stick a damned trackin’ device to them and see where the hell they end up and then we go from there. We all knew goin’ into this that it was gonna be a long haul. For now, what we’re doin’ is goin’ to presenting a means to an end. You can’t just point and shoot here. You find us a planet and we’ll getcha there, just not tomorrow.”
Hans Grobler, the director of CERN, had sent one of his science officers over to the meeting, a tall, painfully thin man with a complexion that suggested he had spent most of his life in the underground facility. His name was Edgar Heinz.
Edgar alluded to the fact that Dorathy’s design was missing elements, saying, “We have been working with the schematics you have provided to us and have found some room for improvement. We are proposing that you continue your work, and testing shall continue on schedule, so then we might evaluate its competency.”
Dorathy lit up. “Did you just say I’m incompetent?”
Familiar with her temperament, Edgar backed down. “No, Dr. Rosen I did not, but I believe it to be flawed.”
Dorathy spoke now with an attitude, every word like daggers being launched. “Enlighten me, then.”
Edgar was holding back information and he knew he had gone too far, had said too much. “We came here to see your progress and are looking forward to the testing phase. If the test is successful, then we can move forward in sharing and incorporating our findings to build on the larger scale necessitated by its future function. That is all we are trying to relay here today.”
Jack finally, in an attempt to defuse the exchange, said, “Okay, now that we have all that sorted out, may I suggest we take a break for lunch and then I’ll go get a golf cart and we’ll head over there so you can take a look at what we have accomplished so far.”
Hugo had called out for a light lunch of sandwiches and a variety of salads to be delivered. Afterwards they trooped over to the other side of the compound where the cryocapsule prototype was being assembled. Before entering the vast room, they needed to don static free bunny suits for the clean room environment.
When they walked into the negative pressure room, the first door closed behind them. A jet of air hit them with some force and was sucked out by the ventilation system before the inner doors would open.
There were about a half dozen people around doing a variety of tasks. Earlier that day, Hugo had informed the project manager that there was to be a ‘show and tell,’ so the staff was prepared for the visitors.
Karen Johnson, the project engineer, was a bright young woman in her early thirties. She had received her master’s degree in Mechanical Engineering from the University of Minnesota and although she had worked at JPL for only a couple of years, was more than proficient at her job. She was lovely, and very youthful looking with long, straight, strawberry blonde hair that she wore in a single braid down her back. Karen loved to wear oversized black rimmed glasses, because she thought they made her look more trustworthy.
Karen respected Dorathy immensely and saw her as a mentor. She always told Dorathy, “One day I’m going to have your job when you retire, don’tcha know.”
In response, Dorathy always promised, in her best midwestern accent, “You betcha. When I retire, most likely kicking and screaming, you will most definitely have my enthusiastic recommendation.”
The group approached and Karen seized the opportunity to introduce her team of assemblers, and to highlight each of them individually. Every person working on this project, as with most of JPL’s projects, was an engineer. All were highly trained professionals and had worked on a variety of multi-million-dollar projects. Karen had impressed upon her team the significance of this project.
On their first day as a team she told them, “Take special care with this project because it is going to change the world. We are about to embark on a venture that will bring us to the horizon of a new frontier. There is no room for mistakes here, no margin of error. If you think you may have done something already, but you can’t remember if you did it, then go back and do it again.”
Dorathy had been spending a lot of time on this side of the compound. In fact, someone, she suspected Jack, had spray painted one of the golf carts black, as a joke attaching a very loud horn on the vehicle and slapping on a bumper sticker that read ‘Move it or Lose it.’ Dorathy drove the cart at top speed, weaving in and out of people passing on foot, shouting to be heard over her horn, “Excuse me, coming through.” After a while she parked the cart next to her car in the parking lot, so she would have easy access to it from the moment she arrived on site every morning.
Introductions were made all around and Karen began her presentation. “Welcome to JPL. This is, as you can see, the propulsion portion of the apparatus. The cryogenic canister, which holds a single occupant, will fit snugly and securely inside this open area here.” With a sweeping motion of her hand she indicated the eight-foot-by-four-foot rounded opening at one end of the device. Continuing, she pointed to the end of the structure where the generator for the backup freezing canister was located, and said, “This will be supplying the cryocanister with liquid nitrogen.”
At another work area, Karen started by pointing out the top portion of the canopy, what the team called the lid. “This will be fitted as a cover to the device. As you can see, there is an inside holding area for any personal effects that someone might want to send with the deceased.”
Karen sensed a bit of tension in the group and attempted to defuse it by adding, “That was my idea, thought it would be a nice touch.”
Sensing the fellows from CERN had little personality and that her attempt to lighten the mood had failed, Karen said, “Moving along, over here we have the component we are all excited about, the SBD!”
Now, it seemed, she had everyone’s full attention. “This is nothing like we have ever worked on before, and I’m going to hand this segment of the tour over to Dorathy.” Dorathy walked up and carefully removed the outer casing to display the inner workings of the SBD. Everyone clustered together to take a closer look.
Edgar, in his usual form, said, “Most predictable design.” Dorathy, still holding a screwdriver type device, wanted to hit him over the head with it, but quietly said, “Sometimes predictability is preferred when dealing with complex processes—space travel, for instance.”
Carman interjected, “I think we would like to see the actual freezing canisters.”
Dorathy was starting to lose her patience. “What we have been doing here, as I have been trying to tell you, is to design the system to carry and maintain the canisters that go inside. We are not in the business of preparing bodies, just the business of getting them into space. The occupants will be prepared in Arizona and, after they are painstakingly frozen to the ideal temperature, they will then be brought here and placed inside.”
Carman said bluntly, “We wish to have the current technology for the canisters.”
Dorathy
was thinking about all the things she wanted to say, some quite colorful, but said instead, “Then you need to talk to Dr. Alex Mason. He is not part of our arrangement with you. Regarding the technology for the canisters, we work for him.”
When everyone had gotten a good look at the SBD and the outer casings for the cryocanisters, or tubes, as some people called them, the group departed for their hotel.
Dorathy was drained, and said to Hugo, “There is something going on with them and I want to know what. Why the urgency to acquire the technology for cryogenics? Why the skepticism about my design for the SBD? They’re dragging their feet with one and they’re pressing for the other. Something smells fishy.”
Hugo agreed by saying, “If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck . . . It’s duck huntin’ season! Lock and load time!”
Back at the hotel Edgar and Carman had excused themselves from the group and moved to Edgar’s room for privacy to discuss highly classified information. Only a small handful of individuals knew of a secondary discovery: not a discovery at CERN, but of the same magnitude. The find had been made by a Russian geneticist at a research facility in northern Siberia. The discovery had established the pace when the find had been identified, putting in motion a mission inaugurated well over two years ago.
Edgar peered onto his 3D imager and pressed a few keys—Hans Grobler’s image appeared above the screen. “Remember, this information is of the greatest importance. If news of this discovery gets out, there will be, no doubt, a disruption of power if our associates get too close to the truth. We have reviewed Dorathy’s design and our best engineers have found the flaw, but we are still unable to tell the ramifications if deployed. Your task now is for the technology for cryofreezing. Dr. Mason’s system works. We must get the particulars if our mission is to be a success.”
Carman gazed into the screen alongside Edgar and said, “They are very close to testing the SBD. Once deployed, we will have to find a way to retrieve it. It is on such a small scale, the relevance of the apparent flaw, as a risk factor, is negligible.”
