Project Sail (21 page)

“Open it,” a voice came from behind. “Let’s see what deep space looks like.”

The voice belonged to Bill Stein, the pilot with the rough skin, walking in to the common room and aiming for a drink dispenser.

Hawthorne gave in and pressed, causing the protective sheath covering the horizontal window to slide open, revealing a wall of black pitch.

“Nothing to see out here,” Stein said as he filled a cup with something hot. “You are a long way from home.”

Hawthorne found that window of black mesmerizing but as he watched, pinpricks of light popped up one by one.

“I can…I can see some stars,” he said, and found that relieving.

“They are pretty far away right now,” and Stein came closer to share the view. “Uranus is out there but we would need one of the research scopes to see it. But hey, if we could you might see me. Two weeks ago, I did an EVA and we are fifteen light-days away from Oberon. If I had thought about it, I would have waved to my future self.”

Stein considered, took a drink of what might have been coffee, and added, “Messes with your mind, doesn’t it? I could look back and see me.”

Hawthorne considered that thought and said, “We should be able to turn around and see ourselves coming right? I mean, we moved faster than light.”

“You really were sleeping yesterday, weren’t you? We did not travel faster than light, but sidestepped the whole thing. Einstein would be pissed.”

Hawthorne did not enjoy this. On the cruise ship, he only needed to show the guests a good time and keep the games running. Now? A new means of travel had taken him into the empty void between star systems. He no longer knew the rules.

He asked Stein, “Why were you doing an EVA at the station? Repairs?”

“Nope, I just like floating around outside once and a while. I love it.”

“Love what?” Hawthorne did not understand.

“
That,”
Stein motioned his cup toward the observation window. “Space. That is why I am a pilot; I can’t get enough. Why do you think I have these scars and lumps?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Hawthorne lied.

“The radiation shots are not as effective on me because of something in my body chemistry, which is why the navy never wanted me.”

“You’re commercial?”

“Universal Visions gave me the chance to fly, regardless of my condition, so don’t expect to hear me speak badly about the company.”

“How many times have you had cancer, Bill?”

“Lost count. They keep managing to catch it in time or stop it before it spreads. To be honest though, I can’t decide if the cosmic rays or the anti-radiation drugs are my biggest problem.”

Stein held his left hand out and examined two lumps and a trio of scars there.

“I wish I could say that I got this lump doing the water tanker run from Ceres or that this one, here, was a souvenir from working construction on Phobos, but who knows the specifics, point is they are from a career of working in space.”

Hawthorne’s eyes held on the pinpricks of light scattered across the black void beyond the window.

He spoke as much to himself as to Stein as he said, “Space is cold, dead, and empty. The only thing I have ever found out here is fighting and misery, but I am stuck here.”

“You fought in a war,” Stein said, “so I can understand the attitude. But to me, space is freedom. It is big, but that just gives me more elbow room. Folks like Coffman see the universe as a box of secrets they hope to open. I see it as one big amusement park. I could spend the rest of my days flying around Saturn’s rings, asteroid hopping, and making daredevil runs at Mercury.”

“And you are willing to risk cancer again and again for it?”

“Cancer can get you but it’s not the same boogeyman from a few decades ago. Besides, we are all going to die, Commander, no point in being afraid of it, or you waste the days you do have.”

Hawthorne remembered his friend Gerald—Lazarus--who had exchanged his body for sentient software because he wanted to avoid death. It hit him exactly how afraid Gerald must have been to take such a leap, risking death on his own terms to avoid facing it in the future.

He said, “So this mission does not bother you, even though you do not know where we are headed?”

Stein sipped his drink and then told him, “Commander, I don’t care about the destination. To me, it’s all about the ride getting there.”

---

SE 185
returned to Oberon in a carefully plotted course that sent its arrival shock wave on a trajectory out of the solar system.

They docked at the station and spent the next four hours in small training groups, some focused on the drive system, others practicing emergency repairs. Hawthorne spent the time learning the details of ship operations.

Before he ended the day’s training, Charles announced over the ship’s intercom, “All hands will report at 0900 hours tomorrow morning to the briefing room. The time has come for you to find out where we are going.”

24. Assignment

It took effort, but Hawthorne managed to zip his blue coveralls. Dressing did not normally pose such a challenge, but normally he did not stay up all-night playing poker on the lower decks.

The four-hour session taught him two lessons. First, the maintenance crew on Oberon UVI did not fall for bluffs. Second, that maintenance crew could outdrink anyone, particularly if the beverage was Soju, although Hawthorne suspected it might have been rocket fuel.

His roommate, Bill Stein, had left for breakfast but Hawthorne had stayed behind in favor of more sleep. Now he wondered if it would have been worth it just for the coffee: his head pounded. Then he realized the pounding came from the door.

Kelly’s smiling face and emerald eyes bound into his quarters bearing a breakfast tray.

“I heard about your poker game and thought you could use this.”

She offered the Additive Food Processing Station’s version of bacon, instant scrambled eggs, and a mug of steaming black coffee. They sat on his bunk and he ate from the tray.

“There might be a promotion for you because of this.”

She laughed. He enjoyed hearing her laugh, he enjoyed answering her questions, telling her stories, and sharing breakfast with her.

He recalled Dr. King wondering, ‘what does your new bunk mate want from you?’

Perhaps she only wanted a man who saw her as a person. A better question would be what did Jonathan Hawthorne want from Kelly Thomas?

Maybe he wanted someone to ask questions, someone to tell stories to, someone to share breakfast with.

“Did you win?”

“I am out a week’s pay and one of my cigars.”

“It’s your own fault,” she mothered.

“So what did you do last night?”

“Me and Ellen—Dr. Kost--downloaded a great movie. It came in direct-feed and was about this space-Marshal fighting Martian terrorists.”

“I thought you only liked the classics.”

“Are you kidding? I have a military-grade implant,” she tapped her temple, “felt like I was right on Mars, blasting away bad guys. You should get an implant.”

“I like my head how it is.”

“Ellen doesn’t have them, either so she had to watch it on the boring screen. Oh, don’t forget the mission briefing in ten minutes.”

Hawthorne skipped the eggs, chewed the last slice of rubbery bacon, and carried the coffee cup as they left his quarters for the meeting room. As they walked, he remembered something he needed to discuss with her.

“I was in the cargo bay yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Listen, Kelly…”

“But the cargo bay is dark and lonely!”

“It is a robot.”

“His name is Larry and I disarmed his weapons and he doesn’t make a sound.”

“Where is he?” She did not answer. “Kelly?”

“Under my bunk.”

“He can fit there?’”

“Yes, he folds up tight in ambush mode.”

They stopped and he touched her arm.

“A military grade assault robot in ambush mode is hiding under your bunk? What does your roommate think of this?”

“Dr. Kost put a hat on Larry’s head and—”

Hawthorne held a hand up, begging her to stop.

“Kelly—
Lieutenant
--if Charles, Henderson, or that dick Chambers find out that Larry—your assault robot—is in your quarters, they will bust you down a rank. Put him back with the others.”

She stomped a foot and stiffened her lip before muttering, “Okay.”

But she did not appear too upset. When they started walking again her mood returned to cheerful. It was as if…

As if she wants someone to set boundaries for her. Like a father.

---

Wren led Dr. Kost to a couple of chairs near Matthew Carlson and Dr. King. The former remained focused on his wrist computer, the latter went out of her way to smile and say hello.

He returned her pleasantries and added, “God knows where we are going.”

“Yes, I am eager to find out,” King replied.

“No, I mean God knows so you should ask him for us.

King’s eyes narrowed and she made a sound that might have been a growl.

The room filled with familiar blue coveralls as well as Director Henderson. While Wren knew the little corporate snake, Fisk, was still on the station, he did not see him.

Charles, Henderson, and the other corporate snake—Chambers--sat in the front row. Most of the flight crew—Stein, the Martian guy, and that chick with the fake arm—occupied the second. Just behind them sat the guy and the girl from engineering as well as King’s assistant; the one from the darkest part of Mexico.

Commander Hawthorne and his groupie arrived, sliding in next to Kost.

Wren leaned over and said to Ellen, “Help Thomas with the big words.”

To his surprise, she shot him a disapproving look. Normally she at least forced a phony giggle.

Of course, he wondered why he had sought her out to go with him to this briefing and why she sat next to him in the mess hall every day. They had been bunk buddies for the trip to Oberon but Captain Charles had already decreed there would be no sexual relations during the mission.

Yet, they still spent time together, except when Ellen hung out with her blonde and dim-witted roommate.

He found the situation puzzling but decided not to think about it any further. Wren avoided introspection; such deep thoughts usually led to places he did not care to visit.

Professor Coffman entered the room, dimmed the lights, and walked to the front. However, Chambers stood and cut-off the Professor’s presentation before it could begin.

“Attention. The United States of North America and Universal Visions consider today’s briefing classified information. Discussing this presentation or this mission with an outside party violates corporate and military law.”

Chambers, Wren understood, just put everyone on notice that violating mission security could result in summary execution.

Mr. Henderson stepped forward and said, “This type of thing must be stated for the record, you understand.”

The normally pleasant Coffman flashed an expression that suggested frustration with the corporate suits, but found his smile as he addressed the group.

“Hello, yes, glad to be with you again. Yesterday’s test run went perfectly and I hope the newest members of our team were suitably impressed. Now that you have seen what
SE 185
can do, I imagine you are wondering what we plan to, well, do with it.”

A holographic display appeared and presented a computer-generated star field.

“Ah, here we are, the constellation Libra. Let’s move closer,” and the image zeroed in on a red dot that grew until it became a star. “This is Gliese 581, a red dwarf twenty-two light-years away and one-third the size of our sun.”

Wren leaned to Kost and whispered, “Not exactly news; Gliese was discovered a hundred years ago.”

Coffman told the assembly, “Let’s see what we have here.”

The star shrunk again and then was circled by orbit lines.

“As you can see, Gliese 581 has mothered six planets. We are interested in this fellow…yes…this one,” the projection focused on the fourth planet from the red dwarf, “Gliese 581g. Understand these images are computer generated.”

Coffman’s projection depicted a planet with fuzzy white and red coloring.

“This one exists inside the star’s habitable zone, so you can understand it would be of great interest. On February 19
th
, Probe 581 left this station equipped with an Alcubierre—Haruto drive.”

Wren whispered to Kost, “They are really creative with the names around here.”

The image changed to a tall probe with a barrel-shaped central core surrounded by round compartments and a pointed top that included a pair of concave slots.

“It arrived at 581g in mid-March but the results, unfortunately, were disappointing.”

Henderson—standing to the side—interjected, “I would not describe the results as disappointing. We hoped to find a habitable planet and while that is not the case, we believe valuable mineral and chemical deposits exist beneath the surface.”

Wren tapped his leg and curled his hands into fists.

UVI had pulled him from his work in England and flown him across the solar system because of rocks and chemicals.

He struggled to control the urge to scream.

The Professor told the audience, “581g has a mass four point three times that of Earth with surface gravity of one point seven gs, and is tidally locked to its mother star which results in temperature extremes on either side of the planet. An atmosphere of carbon dioxide, with traces of nitrogen, makes 581g uninhabitable by human beings, although it remains possible that microscopic life exists, most likely in the areas of twilight. The extreme cold has likely frozen off the atmosphere on the dark side.

“We lost communication with the probe, unfortunately, but we received enough information on 581g to choose it as the destination for mankind’s first journey beyond our solar system.”

Wren raised his hand and then stood.

Coffman looked at him. “Yes?”

“Just one question: Are you kidding me?”

Captain Charles stood and responded, “This is a briefing, not a discussion.”

“So this is not a joke? I can think of ways to put this project to use other than spending a month sailing to what sounds like a milder version of Venus.”