Read The Pathfinder Project Online
Authors: Todd M. Stockert
Most people are familiar
with the standard objects that we
can
see: (a) Yellow stars like our own
sun, (b) Red giants that are cooler, (c) Blue giants that are in the last
stages of their lifespan, (d) Gaseous and radioactive dust clouds (or nebulae)
that are lit up by the radiation from dying suns, (e) tiny white dwarfs that
are basically burning “coals” left over from the stellar campfire of their
earlier life as stars, (f) Planets, moons and asteroids, etc. There are also
two general manners in which a star will die when it finds itself at the end of
its long lifespan.
The first way a sun dies is
for the nuclear furnace at its center to begin breaking down as it runs out of
fuel. The star collapses inward and begins to emit huge dust clouds that
surround it and move outward. As the dust clouds continue to form, residual
radiation from the still-burning sun continues to blaze outward and lights up
these dust clouds – usually in a spectacular display of patterns and color. As
a nebula forms and the star inside it dies, the building blocks for new stars
continue to form. There are lots of larger nebulae scattered throughout the galaxies
that have grown so massive that they are actually a galactic “manufacturing
facility” with ideal conditions for new stars to form.
The second way a sun dies is
to simply collapse and then explode in a huge surge of energy called a
supernova. The starburst shockwave is usually visible from thousands of light
years away – once the light travels to and finally reaches those faraway places
at least. Regardless of which method a star uses to end its life, it usually
continues collapsing inward upon itself, becoming smaller and smaller.
Eventually many of these dead stars end up as white dwarves… which are
essentially very dense and compact tiny versions of the original star. Because
so much matter has been compressed into such a small galactic object, the typical
white dwarf generally possesses a tremendous amount of gravity, but radiates a
much less significant amount of solar radiation than the original star. Some of
these are visible, but that depends directly on how far away they are and how
small their size ends up after the inward collapse has completed.
Make no mistake – whether
it’s neutrinos with mass, undetectable brown dwarfs, tiny unseen white dwarf
stars, black holes, or some other type of exotic subatomic particles – dark matter
does
exist. It simply can’t be detected by the use of traditional
telescopic equipment alone. A good example of this comes from the Pine Ridge
Observatory back on Earth, whose study several years ago used light gathered
from two galaxy clusters in a single telescope image. This light passed from
one star cluster through another in the foreground of the picture. Through use
of computer models of the foreground cluster and matching them to the way that
it bent the light rays from the background cluster, scientists were able to
accurately estimate the mass of the foreground cluster. The model that finally
fit everything together showed conclusively that the cluster’s mass was about
250 times greater than the mass of its visible matter alone.
Dark matter exists, hence
this brief science lesson to help bring everyone up to speed. Please note that
the amount of dark matter that is present at any given location we travel to
will directly affect the gravitational forces in the area and consequently our
ability to keep the ship’s CAS Drive functional. I had initially speculated
that the extra dark matter present in the vicinity of the wasteland galaxy
could be by-products of
or
a direct result of the inhabitants of that
region choosing to destroy entire stars on a massive scale. However, if that
were the case then the gravitational waves surrounding our ship should have
returned to normal when we transited to our current location
BUT THEY DID
NOT
. This tells me that a very sizeable portion of the area we are currently
journeying through contains a larger than normal amount of dark matter. I am
extremely curious as to why this is happening and would like to specifically
identify the cause.
I will continue working with
the Observatory staff to come up with a plausible explanation for this
phenomenon, since this unexplained situation could contribute to further
difficulties in completing successful CAS transits. I also hope that you have
found this memo informative and will use it to ask good questions at our next
Council meeting, since I have added the dark matter issue to our agenda as an
important subject for discussion. I look forward to seeing you there.
Sincerely,
Thomas J. Roh
Pathfinder Software Systems Specialist
THE PATHFINDER PROJECT
Adam was the last to arrive and
quite pleased to discover that Thomas had reserved a seat for him. The Captain
sat at the head of the main table with Mary and Glen to his right. Seated next
to Glen was Thomas – he waved eagerly at his brother and motioned to the empty
chair he had saved. Smirking, Adam walked over to the chair and patted his
brother on the back, placed his briefcase on the table, and carefully took a
seat.
“Nice memo Thomas,” he
whispered to his brother.
“Thanks,” Thomas replied.
“Nice and
long
, anyway,”
Adam smirked, ignoring the whack Thomas gave him. He continued to survey the
room. Karen Simmons and Father Dixon sat across from them and he also
recognized Colonel Neeland, Jeff Markham, and Kari Hansen. The other three
faces were new – he had heard that the remaining three civilian members of the
Council had recently been appointed but had missed the most recent orientation
meeting which had been held just prior to the wasteland attack on the
Pathfinder
.
“Who switched the damn meeting
to Observation Dome Two?” Adam quietly asked Colonel Neeland, who was seated to
his right.
“We don’t know for certain, but
it’s got
something
to do with the teachers on board. I think they’re
meeting with some of the civilian ship authorities in the other Dome to request
that more classroom space be made available or something,” said the Colonel
softly. “That’s where the smart money is, anyway.”
“I was good friends with a
teacher back on Earth,” commented Kari. “She was thinking of getting out of
teaching but we all knew it was in her blood. Her name was Cassidy… Cassidy
Freeling.” She frowned and took a sip of coffee. “Although it’s doubtful she
survived, you can bet that if she did she’s surrounded by kids right now. That
was her passion in life.”
“That’s the most difficult part
for our people,” Father Dixon said softly. “Not knowing whether loved ones
survived is almost as bad – or worse – than hearing for certain that they were
casualties. I move that we start with a moment of silence for those lost family
members and friends.” He nodded his head and everyone surrounding him followed
suit. “May God be ever merciful with their souls,” he said finally, concluding
the short prayer.
“Well…” said Kaufield, shoving
a donut box down the table. “Everyone is here… finally. So I think we can get
started.” He pointed at Adam and held up the coffee pot.
Adam waved him off. “I’ll just
have ice water this morning – thanks anyway,” he decided, gesturing toward a
pitcher sitting in front of him.
“According to my notes, Mr. Roh
you weren’t present at the last meeting. Since Kari is here for the first time
from the Observatory to fill in for Dr. Markham, I think we should start by
giving our new members a chance to re-introduce themselves.” The three new
people seated next to Kari nodded in response.
“My name is Anne Wilcox from
passenger deck two,” said a young, fresh-faced woman with short blonde hair.
She stood up and took a quick bow. “I’m the principal of Education on this
ship…” she paused to cast an amused glance at Adam and Colonel Neeland. “The
march toward educating our young people never stops, so the smart people will
put their money on us
getting
our extra space.”
“You’ve already
got
Observation Dome One,” Adam whispered sarcastically. Next to him the Colonel
did his very best to keep an emotionless expression on his face.
“If you want to get out of the
classroom setting, bring the kids up to the Garden wing once in a while,”
suggested Jeff. “We have lots of room in the fruit orchards, and at least once
in a while they can go over to the Livestock wing and take a tour of the zoo.”
“Thank you, Jeff, I’ll mention
that to my colleagues,” she said, writing the information down on her legal
pad. “An ‘outdoor’ setting… those children could end up spoiled very fast.”
A second woman stood up, this
one older with white hair. She had some wrinkles, her expression was friendly
and she had a very intelligent air about her. “My name is Kayla Daniels,” she
said. “I live on deck three and am the Administrator in charge of maintaining
the public utilities on all four passenger decks.” She shook her head
confidently. “If you’ve got a problem with oxygen, electricity, water, or waste
disposal then we’re the people to see.”
“It’s nice to meet you again,”
Kaufield said, nodding to her as she sat down again. He looked to the third and
final addition to the Council, a medium aged man with dark hair.
“My name is David Thushman,”
the dark-haired newcomer said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I’m from deck
four, and my team provides direct technical support for
all
of the
electronic and mechanical equipment used aboard this ship. My staff can fix
anything!”
“We know that,” Kaufield
grinned, “Or we would certainly have found somebody else to shoulder that
burden by now.” He nodded graciously. “Welcome again everybody; we’ve got a lot
to discuss this morning.”
“Who begins?” Adam asked
curiously as he took a large, chocolate iced donut from the box in front of
him. He poured himself a glass of ice water from one of the pitchers on the
table and looked expectantly at Dennis.
“You’ve got the donut box… you
start,” Kaufield suggested.
Adam’s expression became
slightly irritated. “I think we should give our new members a chance to express
their interests and concerns,” he decided, shoving the box over to Anne. “How
are things going for you? I’m curious to know what it’s like teaching children
with so many new discoveries made each and every day. It must be pretty
overwhelming.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve
already gotten some complaints from the parents. There’s been some concern
about all of the constant discussion regarding stars and nebulae and the
vastness of the galaxies and our universe. They’re worried that our kids may
lose their spiritual connection to God.”
“How to best teach Intelligent
Design in the classrooms,” Dennis commented. “Now
there’s
a tough nut to
crack. We’ve been debating that issue back and forth on Earth for decades.” He
grinned. “Back when Joseph and I were staying with his grandparents, I served
for a while on the local P.T.A.” He shook his head with wonder. “There are some
parents in our society who have some very strong opinions on that subject, and
I think I personally met each and every one of them – on
both
sides of
that particular issue!”
“Why so much concern?” Father
Dixon queried. “I never understand that. It’s in our nature to be curious and
explore and try to figure out things. I don’t see what that has to do with
maintaining a strong moral character and a devotion to doing good deeds in our
world.”
“I think some parents are
naturally concerned that their children may learn to focus too much on the
scientific nature of things and forget to include religion in their lives,”
suggested Adam, shrugging. “After all, the things we discover in science are
right there in front of us and provable – Intelligent Design, on the other
hand, is the complete opposite.”
“Oh – is it truly the
complete
opposite?” Father Dixon asked. “There’s no room for gray area in your
comparison of the two?”
Adam looked at him a little
irritably but held his composure, although he noticeably became uncomfortable
at being so sharply contradicted. “Okay,” he said in response. “Prove to me,
Father Dixon, that the Intelligent Design of our universe is possible. Do
something magic or… supernatural or… something.” He confidently leaned back in
his chair and smiled at the Chaplain.
“Certainly,” Father Dixon said,
smiling right back at him. He held his legal pad out over the room’s carpeted
floor and dropped it. Everyone chuckled nervously as it fell and hit the floor.
“Explain gravity to me.”
“I beg your pardon,” Adam said,
confused.
“I mean it,” Dixon continued.
“Every solid object in our universe has gravity… a simple attractive force
which increases in strength as the size and density of an object increases.” He
watched Adam continue to grow uncomfortable. “You can measure it and – if you
have an object’s specifications regarding mass and density – you can predict
how strong a gravity field it generates by comparing it to the level on one of
our home planets.” The Chaplain waved a hand at the large conference room
surrounding them. “You and your colleagues can even develop methods to
simulate
it in different levels on ships like this one, but you
can’t
explain
what generates it or why all physical objects in our universe seem to have it.”
“Oh c’mon,” Adam said, his
irritation becoming greater. “Gravity is a physical law of our universe. It is
a constant that you learn to accept if you want to study astrophysics.”
“
You
just stated that
science is ‘right there in front of us and provable’,” Dixon continued. “Show
me how to generate
real
gravity. Demonstrate it to me right here and now
with your provable science. Is it energy produced by burning a substance such
as coal, or does every object in the universe simply
have
it – for no
apparent reason?”