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Authors: Jason Kent

BOOK: Far Space
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Ian was nodding, too enamored by the light reflected in her green eyes to respond. He opened his mouth to say something stupid when she suddenly looked over his shoulder, her attention caught by something on the screens behind Ian.

“Oh, Explorer is streaming again,” she said, edging closer to one of the monitors.

“Another four-year-old message,” Ian noted dryly, turning reluctantly to see what all the excitement was supposed to be about. He wished he could delete his off-hand remark when he saw Jennifer raising an eyebrow at him.

“It’s the best you can expect considering their transmissions are complying with basic laws of physics,” Jennifer said in her best teaching assistant voice.

“If only they had your quantum communications,” Ian said, glad he at least had caught the gist of her earlier dissertation.

“Darn right,” Jennifer said. “Just give me a few more years to work out the kinks.” Her eyes were sparkling again.

Ian grinned and bowed. “I defer to the lady with the physics degree.”

“As well you should,” Jennifer stated.

The moment smoothed over, Ian used the crowd of passengers pressing close around the monitors as an excuse to brush up against Jennifer.

Not taking her eyes from the screen, Jennifer playfully pushed back. “Try and focus,” she said, smiling, “you might learn something.”

USS Schriever, Century-Class Orbital Patrol Craft

Geosynchronous Orbit

Lieutenant Colonel Robert Yates, United States Space Corps, watched the Explorer feed on the main screen of what passed for a bridge on his ship. The tiny compartment was practically bursting at the seams with the five crew stations and associated equipment.

“Looks like they finally made it,” Steve Pearl said, not looking up from the monitor he was studying at the engineering station. Pearl, a civilian specialist in nuclear technologies, kept the Schriever’s power and drive systems in tune. At forty-five, he was the oldest member of the crew. He also liked to point out he was the heaviest, filling his oversized flight suit easily. But, as he reminded Yates, he was paid to keep the engines running, not stay in shape like his military compatriots.

“I’m sure they appreciate your concern, Steve,” Yates said.

Pearl looked up at the monitor. “Look, I’m happy for them,” he said in a tone which indicated he was anything but.

“Humans sailing into the harbor of another star system not enough to stir your blood?” Yates asked.

“I’ll start jumping up and down if they find anything really interesting,” Pearl said. “So far, they’re news because their computer managed to navigate across interstellar space and then wake up the crew after eight years. All they’ve got under their belts is a really, really long nap.”

“The reporters seem happy,” Yates said.

“Of course they are,” Pearl said, waving at the monitor. “They finally get someone real to put on the air.”

“Steve, please tell me you’re not jealous of them,” Yates said. He and the rest of Schriever’s crew had been treated to Pearl’s long stories of the adventures he had gone through to get the Explorer’s anti-matter engines constructed, installed, and on-line. Pearl’s heroic role on the project as a mid-level engineer grew with each retelling.

“Maybe,” Pearl said, concentrating on his displays, pointedly ignoring the main monitor showing the Explorer crew. “So, that was R-3 you wanted to take
off-line, right?” R-3 was one of three nuclear power plants housed at the aft end of their spacecraft. Schriever only needed one to function properly. The other two acted as redundant power sources for the drive system and the weapons array on board the orbital patrol craft.

“Steve,” Yates said, ignoring the man’s attempt to change the topic, “If it helps, I still think the Explorer’s engines are the star of the show.”

“Just wait till they want to come home,” Pearl said, giving the commander a sideways glance. “We’ll see how much news the engines get then.”

“Good point,” Yates said, his face splitting into a grin.

Pearl looked from side to side and leaned back in his seat so he was closer to Yates. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I wish I could see the looks on their faces when they jettison the first set of propellant tanks find my name spray painted across the hull.”

“You serious?” Lieutenant Chris Reeves looked up from the Navigation station.

“No joke.” Pearl said solemnly.

“Why would you…” Reeves began, aghast at the thought. “What were you thinking?”

“Let’s just say I was younger, much younger, and, well, stupid,” Pearl said with a laugh.

Yates could not help grinning at the thought of Steve Pearl out in a spacesuit jammed between the propellant tanks and the hull of humankind’s first interstellar ship painting his name like a he was tagging a road sign back on Earth.

The speech by Paul Detrick, the Explorer Mission commander, was interrupted by someone off-screen.

“What’s he saying?” Yates asked.

Reeves and Pearl stopped their discussion of what kind of paint was best to use on the hull of a ship and focused on the main view screen.

“The Explorer guys are excited about something,” Reeves said.

“Turn it up,” Pearl said, his interest peaked.

Reeves complied and the voices of the Explorer crew, four years old by the time the signal traveled from Alpha Centari to Earth, filled the bridge.

Transmission:

UNS Explorer, Millennium-Class Interstellar Craft

Alpha-Centari Local Space

“What is it?” Paul Detrick asked a crew member off-screen. The handsome fifty-three year old had one of the most recognizable faces in Germany, his home, or on the entire planet for that matter. As Explorer’s Mission Commander, he had done countless interviews before human-kind’s first interstellar spacecraft had left Earth orbit twelve years earlier. The best of these recordings had been edited and shown again and again over the years as the craft hurtled through space, its crew safely in hibernation.

There had not been much beyond what Explorer’s automated telemetry sent back during eight years travel time to report as the communications delay mounted to four years between transmission and receipt of the signal. The indications were mind-numbingly consistent; all systems green, crew in stable hibernation, engines working perfectly. Rehashing old question and answer sessions was the only thing the ESA and NASA could do to try and maintain interest in the project. So, Detrick was known for some classic sound bites dealing with humanities expansion into the universe and the wonders of modern technology which made it all possible. Detrick’s Hollywood good looks and piercing eyes which both held the audience in their grasp and conveyed an unmatched intensity did not hurt either. Paul was moments away from delivering his best quote ever.

“I…I’m not sure,” the voice was from off-screen, the camera still focused on Detrick. The scrolling bar along the bottom of the screen helpfully identified the speaker as Patricia Teft, the crew’s specialist in extra-planetary geology. The trailer added her goal during the mission was to collect samples from asteroids in the Alpha-Centari system. Teft hoped to find evidence of her thesis that all star systems had to contain rings of asteroids as a course of the stellar evolution processes.

Detrick stood, staring at the screen displaying the object approaching his ship. Whether he meant to or not, he struck a dramatic pose; chin inclined slightly, eyes looking thoughtful, and body leaning forward ever so slightly, as if ready to spring into action.

Embedded video feeds within the main transmission allowed Earthbound producers to select additional content for the multi-media feed pouring out to the world. A screen-within-a-screen opened, allowing viewers to see from Detrick’s point of view. The object was distant, its shape from this angle oblong with a sweeping section aft.

Yet another sub-screen opened, this time showing an external view of Explorer, taken from a drone flying in formation with the mother ship. The human spacecraft was a heavily modified Millennium interplanetary transport. Officially designated as MIII-AMDI, Millennium III Class – Anti-Matter Drive Interstellar, it was basically a two hundred and twenty meter central spine with crew modules forward, storage containers mid-ship, massive mass reaction tanks further back, and six AM drives at the stern. The angle tilted slightly, showing both the human craft, glinting in the light from the local suns, and the mysterious object along its flight path. Unlike Explorer, the new visitor did not glint so much as soak in the light. The drone camera zoomed in, revealing a dark, mottled grey hull. The alien craft possessed a symmetrical structure and flaring tail struts stretching out behind the oblong main body. Overlays on the display estimated the width of the ship to be thirty-three meters with a length of approximately one hundred ten meters.

“Of course our main engines were burning during our approach to Alpha Centari,” Detrick lectured to the camera and the crowds he knew would be watching. “Mid-way through our trip from Earth, we achieved maximum acceleration and the engines shut down. We cruised at the fastest velocity yet achieved by any manned spaceflight for just over two months. As programmed, our central control computer, Mandi, flipped the ship completely around until our bow faced home again and our engines toward our destination. Calculating the optimum time to ignite the engines to slow us down again, Mandi began our long breaking burn.”

“Yes,” Jasem Reed, the crew physician agreed. “They would have seen us as a bright star approaching this system, there’s no way they could have missed us!”

“Exactly!” Detrick agreed. He tilted his head characteristically and paused, gathering himself to deliver the lines he had been waiting his entire
life to say. “This is no chance encounter. This intelligence has been watching our approach and are no doubt here to offer peaceful greetings from one space farer to another.” Detrick made one of his dramatic pauses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He continued in his slightly accented English and finally got to the highlight of his speech to his crew and the billions back on the home world. “Humanity’s inaugural voyage outside our solar system is being met by this, an ambassador from another species. May we be worthy of this honor…”

Detrick’s words were interrupted by multiple alarms sounding throughout his control deck.

USS Schriever, Century-Class Orbital Patrol Craft

Geosynchronous Orbit

Yates was as enthralled as his younger crew members. Detrick definitely had a way of holding an audience and, face it, he had some great material to work with. The spell was broken by the on-screen alarms. Yates had been in space long enough to understand no alarm was minor. Unconsciously, he scanned his vessel’s status board.

The command board at Yates’ station showed a pictorial layout of the Schriever. Tapping on any section of the display allowed him to dive into as much detail as he could handle from the integrated control and status computer. The system allowed the relatively small crew to command the complex piece of weaponry which was the USS Schriever.

The drive and power section at the aft end of the ship showed green except for the reactor Pearl had just taken off-line – it was color coded with yellow and green diagonal strips indicating it was down for maintenance with no longterm issues. If there were problems, it would have shown up as red. Propellant and water tanks, also in the aft section, showed adequate reserves.

Mid-section, Yates noted the missile bays were fully loaded. There had been no change in any launch systems since their checkout just two days ago. The storage areas and main airlock fore of the missile bays were also green on the status boards.

Forward, the crew compartments and command section all showed good integrity, a plus since this was where Yates worked, slept and ate. Besides the habitable areas, some of the weapons were located in the forward part of the ship. The twin rail guns occupied the lower level of this section and stretched to the bow of the spacecraft. The display indicated both guns were ready for action. The three Defensive Laser System, DLS, nodes located on either side of the bridge cradle all showed one hundred percent availability.

Yates double-checked the OLS, Offensive Laser System, at the aft end of the ship. Mounted in blisters above and below the reactor section, these four nodes were nearly as deadly as the rail guns. They also had the advantage of delivering a punch at the speed of light. The monitor showed green. Four more
of the smaller DLS nodes were located in the same blisters as the OLS – also green.

Yates ran his eyes down the stop-light chart showing the rest of the ship’s systems. Communications, fire control, attitude control, navigation, and environmental were all operating nominally.

Turning his attention back to the screen, Yates noted only a few seconds had passed. He felt for Detrick, eight years from Earth at top speed and alarms going off. Whatever was happening to Explorer could not be good.

Chinese Space Agency Ganymede Research Station #1

Jupiter Space

Wu hurried through the corridor to the Research Station common area. He brushed past other station personnel making their way to their emergency stations. Wu noticed none of them appeared particularly worried. They had no way of knowing what was going on outside and had become desensitized to the alarms through numerous exercises. Wu spared no time for the few who tried to ask him which drill they were running. Many, seeing the look on the Watch Officer’s face, picked up their pace.

The Station was not overly large. Wu reached his destination in less than a minute. He burst through the common area hatch. Steaming coffee cups and half eaten breakfast platters littered the ten abandoned tables. His friend, Deng Xiang was standing alone by one of the long windows offering a view of Ganymede’s grey surface.

“Look!” Deng said, waving out the window. “That crazy Major Sheng is up to something! Who else would have thought to bring accelerators to this forsaken moon?”

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