Gravitational Constantly: A Novella (10 page)

“Shut down the relay! Do it now! Switch to reserve power and notify Energy Management to run on aux!” Sebastian barked.

“Logic gate to relay has been closed, coils are depolarizing,” confirmed another operator.

“Where the hell is the shuttle? OPS, give me position!” demanded Reinz.

“Shuttle is on course and approaching maximum velocity. Radio blackout clock has started. One hour of radio silence until electromagnetic field on the shuttle dissipates,” the chief operations officer replied. “Vital signs from inside the shuttle are green. Heart rate and blood pressure are climbing, but within acceptable levels.”

“Hang in there, girl,” Reinz said aloud, but mostly to himself. “One hour of Hell to see Heaven. If anyone still prays, this is the time to do it.”

That hour proved the theory of relatively unequivocally. Time crept forward, moving through a dense field of slowly vibrating negative emotions and doubt. Despite the busy crew and all of the action going on around me, minutes passed like hours. Jayce was running interference between Futura, Energy Management, and the Lunar Council. He shot a few concerned glances my direction, but did not have time to talk. I thought about asking if I could lend a hand, but I neither felt like moving from my spot in the back of the room, nor thought that I would be of any use. Helplessness and self-pity form the most satisfying bond in times of distress.

“
Athena
, this is Mission Control, please respond,” the operations officer repeated for the umpteenth time. “Cara, do you copy?”

“Electromagnetic field on the shuttle has dissipated. We should have had radio communications fifteen minutes ago, sir,” an engineer announced to Reinz.

Reinz paced down the aisles of computer terminals, spinning and clicking his pen nervously, no longer keeping rhythm as before. “Engineering, give me the levels of—”

“Mission Control, this is
Athena
, do you copy?” Cara’s voice came crackling over the radio.

The weight of fear and worry lifted from my body at the sound of Cara’s voice. Feelings that I did not know I had were now rushing to the surface. I’d let myself fall in love on Luna and had not fully appreciated the depth of that gravity well until now. A feint yearning to once again be lighter on my soul crept into my heart.

“All systems green. What the hell was with that jump? According to my instruments, I was three Gs over estimated limits,” Cara said with frustration in her voice.

“We’re not sure. The main relay’s transfer rate was higher than simulation. We’re looking into it, but it should be no concern now. We’re ahead of schedule and the board shows green on
Athena
and your vitals,” Reinz replied.

“Roger that. I’m almost 200,000 kilometers ahead of where I should be and running on inertia,” Cara reported. “I’ll be initiating sleep mode on all—”

The radio crackled and cut out. Reinz looked to a few scrambling operations officers who were punching away at their terminals trying to find the cause. The chief officer looked to Reinz and shook his head.

“
Athena
, repeat last transmission, we’re losing your signal, over,” said Reinz.

Static popped at the other end of the line, and Cara’s voice bled in and sounded as if she was at the bottom of a well. “Control do you read? Reinz, do you copy?”

“We have you, Cara. What’s going on? Our instruments read normal here,” replied Reinz, now tense and his pacing stopped, the pen in his hand still twirling, but no longer clicking.

Silence pervaded the room, thick and suffocating. An unnerving hiss spewed from the radio’s speakers, like a puncture in the hull of a ship, leaking out air, but drawing us in to try to hear it. The calm before the storm as a clap of thunder came in the form of a thousand voices transmitted over the radio all at once, some whispering, others singing, shouting, and humming at different volumes and pitches. Only one voice was recognizable and coherent: Cara’s.

“Control, this is Cara! Psychic slip confirmed. Jayce, do you read me? We were right,” Cara ended her transmission.

Jayce scrambled to the com, pushing his way through the crowd at the panel. “Cara, it's Jayce. We read you. We can hear it on our end. Are you okay?”

The radio washed in and out, sounds akin to waves on a beach. Cara's voice slid down the wire and faded in, getting louder as she spoke. “...as we thought. I don't detect any entity or intelligence. The fact that you can hear it over the radio is amazing. I feel like it must be channeling through me and projecting into the com system.”

My mouth was dry in disbelief. A science fiction movie was playing out in front of my eyes, and despite always yearning for something like this to happen, the feeling of queer distaste for the situation is impossible to describe. The unnatural occurrences taking place so close to my own reality was foundation shattering. This exploratory space flight now threatened to uproot my grip on a stable and firm world within my mind.

“Instruments are recording. We'll have lots of data to— AHHH!” Cara's scream trailed off and set everyone in the room on their heels. The radio was static and noise, unearthly noise that sounded like everything and nothing at the same time. It was loud, and if it were coming from anything else it would have hurt your ears, but something about its coarse, high pitch was also dull and soothing. I was off my perch and shoving my way to the console.

“Cara, come in! What's going on, are you alright? Operations, give me vitals. What's going on inside that damn shuttle? Tech, get video display up right—” Reinz was cut off by the sudden silence from the radio, and then the video snapped to the main view screen with the technician's hands not even touching his console. He sat there in disbelief as he never typed a single keystroke.

The picture was clear and the scene calm. Cara sat in the cockpit looking out the port display. The sight of her slender form in her flight suit made my stomach lurch. It made me remember that for all her talk and inner strength, she was a fragile, young woman looking for something—or someone. I had forgotten that since meeting her on Luna. I came to this place a runaway young man myself. It made sense that I saw her as a strong and worldly woman. Maybe if I could have been stronger and shown some ambition, I could have convinced her to go back to Earth with me sooner.

I stood beside Jayce and the rest of the crew. A strange feeling of inaction grew and spread over everyone. Jayce finally nodded at me in approval. I hunched over the console and enabled the video transmission from our end. “Cara?” I beckoned without any acknowledgment.

She continued to look out the display, not moving or talking. The side view of her helmet obscured her face and features. All I wanted was for her to turn and look at me.

“Cara!”

Suddenly aware of my voice, she turned looked at me in the display and smiled. “Andy, oh I'm glad it's you, Andy.”

I quivered, some reason not knowing what to say. “Are you okay?”

She smiled and turned back to the window. “It's beautiful out here, Andy. I can hear and feel everything. It's warm. It's so warm, you'd like it, I know you would.”

Jayce and I looked at each other with concern. Cara's indifference toward the situation was disturbing. “Cara? It's okay, you can come back now. Look at me, Cara.”

I could hear Sebastian whispering to Jayce behind me. “Like hell, Godspeed. We're making it to orbit. You tell your friend here to get her to shape up. Reinz, don't you even think about directing this flight anywhere but to Mars’ orbit and back!”

Cara giggled and shook her head, “Come back? I've finally made it, Andy. I can see everything out here. Oh, I know it still looks like empty blackness to you, but you just can't see it.” She turned to look at me again, her face so calm. “I could never leave now. There is no confusion here, nothing weighing me down. My thoughts are one with a universal consciousness. I can hear everyone's thoughts, like music, not oddly shaped, crude, jagged words. I hear yours, Andy. They're beautiful, languid, but passionate. So rich and full of life, and without care or fear, mostly. You fear for me, but you shouldn't.”

The room behind me was abuzz. Jayce, Sebastian, and Reinz were in a frenzied argument. Operators and technicians were clearly ill at ease with Cara's sudden shift in personality and mental state, the events leading up to a sudden snap in psyche. All of it behind me, a dull drone; I felt like I had a direct tunnel to Cara's mind, my consciousness being pulled to her. Gravity pulled me toward her, albeit a different type of gravity.

Cara looked past me and to the growing noise behind me. “I hear your thoughts too, Sebastian.” Their conversation died and I felt their stare as Sebastian moved to the console.

“Cara, you don't feel well. Listen to me. Engage the sleep mode and continue on course. You'll feel better after you rest, the sedative will help—” Sebastian managed to say before he was cut off.

“You are a dark shell of a life, Sebastian. Your thoughts are only for yourself and your desires. You have no connection with anything or anyone.”

“What!?” Sebastian demanded. “Shut your mouth and engage the sleep mode! Con! Override from here, engage
Athena's
sleep mode.”

A few pecks later and the chief operator sat at his terminal, stunned. “It's not working. It's … denying me access, sir.”

“Your world is cold Sebastian, and for that I'm sorry. The warmth of embracing others and all things is like no other. I'll keep you in my thoughts despite your lack of appreciation for life, because …” Cara trailed off as light began to fill the cockpit. It bathed over her flight suit and washed down the visor hiding her face. It seemed that she was sinking into a blanket of soft cotton. The video feed was lost.

“Jayce!” I yelled in desperation.

“That's it, execute remote order for orbit and return now, Reinz!” Jayce ordered.

“No! Disregard that order! Ops, get visual back and engage sleep mode on the shuttle. I don't care how you do it,” Sebastian barked.

Reinz stood in disbelief. Confused and perhaps for the first time in his career unsure of what to do next, he looked back and forth between Jayce and Sebastian. “I'm sorry Cara,” he said to himself, staring at the screen. “Coop, get remote execute control back and engage sleep mode,” he finally said to the chief operations officer.

“You son of a bitch, Sebastian. It is over! We don't know what is going on out there and Cara is in no condition to continue,” Jayce flared, posturing himself in front of Sebastian in the first display of aggression I'd ever seen from him.

“We are going to Mars and back this time, Jayce. Nothing is going to stop that. We don't need a live pilot to do it, we just need the flight data,” Sebastian said with disgust in his voice.

I moved around Reinz and Jayce, and as before, Sebastian saw me just as it was coming, but too late. He tried to put his arms up but instead of hitting him, I just gave a strong push that unbalanced him and as he tried to catch himself on the console, I swung over and over again, feeling flesh and bone meet and part, the sound and impact of the act both barbaric and satisfying. Security that had been at the back of the room now rushed in with everyone else, pulling me off a bloody and fury-crazed Sebastian.

“Get him out of here! Now! Arrest him! I'll deal with you later, gopher!” Sebastian screamed and flailed as the crowd tried to hold him back, Jayce included. “Get off of me! You, Godspeed! You get out too! Take them both!”

Jayce kicked and struggled, shouting curses at Sebastian while being pulled away by guards. The entire room was in chaos. Workers still at their station pecked away at the console, trying feverishly to carry out the commands. A rift formed between several operations officers as they quibbled and shoved, in obvious disagreement with their orders. Reinz was wiping away a bloody lip, having been hit by someone's flailing limb during the scuffle. Just before the guards got Jayce and me to the doors, the view screen flicked on. Light in every spectrum glinted on and off a central bright white-gold spot hovering in the middle of the screen. Jayce and I fell to the floor as we were shoved violently though the security door, which sealed and locked behind us. The security on this side of the door kept their sidearms holstered, but soon had us on our feet and were preparing to handcuff us.

Outside we watched through the plexiglass window as the room fell still and silent as the orb of light stopped flashing. Chatter in the room picked up as several technicians sat back at their terminals, rattling off numbers and instrument readings. We may have been put out, but we were not unable to observe the events of the flight control room. Their panic was palpable even through a foot of metal and plexiglass.

“I don't understand it. The master relay is back online and channeling power to the gate,” said one technician.

“Energy Management has no idea what is going on. They can't shut it down on their end,” added another.

“Vitals coming in from the shuttle, but they don't make any sense. There is life on board though,” said Coop, the chief operations officer.