-Captain Stiles F. Essen, UCSA Sampson K. Perry, Over the Hyper Limit, Antares Space.
* * *
Day 19 found the two shifts overlapping in the galley. Antares, the blood-red Scorpion heart, was three hundred AU to the rear; a distance of nearly 28 billion miles. Located 23 degrees off the port bow, the smaller blue-white B companion was a little over 250 AU distant.
“Anything happen last shift?” Stiles asked.
“Nothing of note,” Ali replied. “Perry continued to take astrometric readings, and from what he told me earlier he has already written three treatises on the Antares family.”
“That is correct,” Perry replied. “We should be able to fill an entire library with the amount of material we will learn by the time we return to the Colonies. It is unfortunate we continue to lack detailed knowledge of the Antares-B subsystem, but that is understandable under the circumstances.”
“I’ve been meaning to bring that up,” Stiles said. “I’m thinking it may be wise to divert over there and check out the HZ of the companion star. After all, it is the closest star to us. How long would it take at emergency half-light?”
“A journey to the companion star at fifty percent light speed would take thirty–six hours, not accounting for periods of acceleration and deceleration,” Perry replied. “One-and-a-half days, Captain Essen, at the least.”
“That’s not so bad,” Stiles replied.
“Are you kidding?” Ali shouted. “You can’t be serious.”
“We need food, so why not check out all possible locations?”
“Because only an idiot would suggest that, Sir …. Right now, we have forty–four days’ food left, and we’re still two days from the exit point.”
Stiles started to interrupt, but Ali wouldn’t let him, “No, let me finish! Your little proposed jaunt of a day-and-a-half is just to there. Coming back to the exit point, and accounting for system drift in the meantime, would add two more days of travel time. That would leave us with only around a forty-day supply. And by the way, a lot of that forty-day supply will be eaten up in helpless jump status.”
Ali paused to catch his breath and Stiles tried to use the break to get a word in edgewise. “No, wait a minute; I’m not finished,” Ali stopped Stiles again with a harsh warning. “All that to explore a B-type star with little possibility of a prolonged habitable zone; Stiles, those type stars simply age too quickly to support the development of Earth-type life. I won’t let you waste four day’s of food on a worthless boondoggle. Enough is enough!”
Ali had seldom been so excited and needed to catch his breath as if he just ran a marathon.
“But look,” Stiles whined, “we came so close at the 4-Omicron moon. I’m just saying we should check out all possibilities.”
“That’s exactly his point,” Peter replied. “By all accounts, 4-Omicron should have been teeming with life, but it’s sterile. B-type stars just don’t make good parents for life to evolve.”
“B-stars, C-stars … what do I know?” Stiles said. “It’s just ….”
Peter picked up on Stiles’ confusion, “Stiles, I know you’re confused. See, stars are classified mostly by mass, luminosity, and the elements they contain. The massive stars are O, B, and A. Then you got the main sequence stars, F, G, and K. Then, at the lower end, you got M stars. A good way to remember them is: ‘Oh, be a fine girl; kiss me.’ The best stars we can look for are the F and G stars; possibly K and maybe some M stars. That’s where the best chances are. The chance of finding native life at B stars is … just not possible.”
Peter gently put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and led him to a monitor, away from the others. Peter pointed to the screen, as if showing him something. Under his breath, Peter continued, “Stiles, if you wanted to go to the companion star, you should have decided immediately after 4-Omicron. Had we gone then, we’d only have wasted a couple days. But waiting now to decide is not good. A leader can’t vacillate, and you know it. The others will see it as a weakness.”
Stiles continued to stare at the blank screen in silence, seemingly ignoring Peter’s words.
“Just so you know,” Stiles replied stiffly, “I’m not weak.”
Stiles turned off the monitor and looked up. “Okay, I take your point,” he whispered. Stiles continued out loud. “I was just concerned about us, and thought we should explore all the territory we could while we’re here.” He walked back to the group and sat down among them. “You’ve all convinced me. We’ll move on to another star, hopefully closer to the Colonies. I want a list of candidate stars by tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you,” Ali breathed. It was unclear if he was talking to Stiles or Peter.
“Well, now that that’s settled,” Henrietta offered, “come on, Peter, let’s take care of your treatment before I hit the sack.” They got up and headed toward the hatch. As they left, she whispered in his ear, “I don’t know what you told Stiles over there, but what Ali just said goes double for me.”
* * *
Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as he resealed the final access hatch in the aft array room on the upper deck. It took him four hours to scour the room from ceiling to deck making him realize how many hiding places the small room contained. Not only did he need to search all the shelves, cabinets, and utility access ways, but he had to carefully disassemble and reassemble every piece of equipment in the complex room. He just started the first organized search for the spare hidden navigation keys and—as he fully expected—his first try came up empty.
Of course, they would be taking a huge chance planning another jump at reduced navigational capacity, but without food they had no choice. If it were a perfect universe, they would simply scour every square inch of the ship until they found the missing key, allowing them to open the green pathway and simply head home, but they could not afford to wait.
“Perry, make a note in the master log that I made a complete search of the aft array room for the blue key and came up empty.”
“Noted, Jimmy,” Perry replied. “I regret I cannot assist you. I have reviewed all locations that are visually accessible to me, with negative results. As the saying goes, that precludes anywhere where the keys might be ‘hiding in plain sight.’ But that still leaves the vast majority of the total space within me that still requires manual searching.”
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy whined.
“Jimmy, did I state the obvious again?” Perry asked.
“Yep. You do have a way of doing that at the worst of times, although it is always at the worst of times when the obvious is stated.”
Perry hummed. “I shall attempt to refrain from committing that annoyance in the future.”
“Yeah, sure ….” Jimmy checked the array room one final time to be sure everything was closed up before leaving and entered the middle sensor room toward the front of the ship. He saw Peter staring intently at a large sensor screen.
“What’s kickin’?” Jimmy asked.
Peter looked up in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t know you were there.” He put the screen data on hold and stretched. “I was just analyzing search strategies for our next jump.”
“Find anything good?”
“Not yet. The nebulosity is still interfering with refined signal strengths, so searching for biomarkers is not possible. The problem I’m facing is that the best way to detect planets is by comparing observational data using doppler wobble over time, which we just don’t have. I wanted to use radial velocities and microlensing methods, but nothing’s coming out. So I’m trying to get plain lucky using transits, but that’s like being at just the right place at the right second.”
“How so?”
“If a planet passes between us and the star it revolves around, we can observe a minute change in the star’s brightness. But that’s like hoping to see an insect fly in front of a light bulb from a couple hundred miles away.”
“Yeah, like me trying to find that stupid blue key on my first attempt.”
“Not
hing there, huh?”
“Nope,” Jimmy replied. He thought about Peter’s problem. “Why don’t you have Perry conduct an automatic search of variable star brightness?”
“I am currently doing that,” Perry replied affronted. “So far, I have surveyed over 12,000 stellar objects displaying some variability.”
“But,” Peter interrupted, “some stars are naturally variable, so I need to review what he’s come up with. Sometimes you just gotta look at the shape of the relative flux line to tell the difference. Besides, as we pass through nebula clouds here, that also interferes with the brightness data. So we need to compensate backwards for that.”
Peter turned on his screen again. “Well, back to my search. I got some ideas about travel route concepts, at least, that we’ll discuss when we all get together again. Maybe make some definite recommendations by tomorrow.”
Peter turned back to his screen. “You gonna look some more for that key?” Peter asked over his shoulder.
“Nah, I’m beat. I’m going back to my room and rest awhile before lunch. After that, I got to log in some cardio time in the gym, or Doctor Death will be on my case.”
“Don’t let Stiles catch you napping.”
Jimmy laughed. “Ah, he’s probably asleep right now on his throne on the bridge.”
* * *
Peter spent the rest of his shift searching through astrometric data finding no solid recommendations. He developed a short list of more probable stars, but could not guarantee any would have a family of planets surrounding them. He went to his room and crashed at 2100 hours and slept soundly until 0500 the next morning.
It was now Day 20—the day before the jump and the day Peter needed to choose their next destination.
Henrietta gathered up the plates and shoved them in the galley ’cycler. She then briefed Peter on what happened during her duty shift. “Perry located another 20,000 stars for your review. The list is queued-up in the sensor room.”
“Goodie,” Peter replied, “just what I wanted.”
“How long’s that supposed to take?” Stiles asked crossly.
“Oh, on a good day, about three months,” Peter replied.
“We don’t have three months.”
“Gee, Stiles, I didn’t know,” Peter shot back. “Anyway, what we developed yesterday are the closest stars currently to us. It is more’n likely we’ll end up at one of those. But I’ll scan the new list to see if anything jumps out. Give me an hour to do that, and I’ll be ready to make some suggestions.”
“Hey,” Henrietta interrupted, “before you go off to your little planetarium, come on; it’s time for your treatment.” She got up and headed to the hatch, waiting for Peter to follow.
Peter pried himself up and followed Henrietta to medical. As Peter watched her prepare the medication, he asked, “Anything else exciting happen last night?”
“Quiet as a cemetery on a still night,” she replied. “Ali and I continued where Jimmy left off, searching for the blue key. But even together, we only got three-quarters through the aft sensor room. You know, at this rate we’ll need four months; and just for the main rooms. I shudder to think about looking through the maintenance conduits.”
“Yeah, that’s what Jimmy said too. He’s even afraid they may not have had time to put the spares onboard before we left.”
Henrietta threw her head back in frustration, uttering something in Portuguese. “Oh man; thanks! I hadn’t considered that.” She finished her preparations for the treatment and began to tell Peter what he needed to do.
“Never mind,” Peter said holding up his hand, “I know the drill.” He got ready and Henrietta injected the third dose. He was becoming quite a pro at this.
“How’s that?” Henrietta asked.
“Okay, I guess. I’m actually feeling better.”
“That’s good. Maybe I’ll reinstate you to captain before we make jump.”
Peter considered that for a moment. “No, let’s wait ’til we come out. The extra rest will do me good. Besides, it’d shatter Stiles’ ego.”
Henrietta threw the vial into the disposal. “If you think so,” she replied. She closed the contamination hatch and continued to stare at the wall.
“You’re probably right,” Henrietta continued. Flushing the vial out of the ship, she concluded, “That’s best.” She did not sound convinced.
* * *
“So, what have you decided?” Stiles leaned against the table, not wanting to remain in the conference room any longer than necessary. He spent most of the day alone, and hoped he could end it that way too. Let’s see if Campbell is as good as he thinks he is, Stiles jeered silently.
“Well,” Peter began, “we searched everything we could from here, but I can’t guarantee any viable planets. We just don’t have time to complete a precise survey.”
Stiles was annoyed, but not surprised by the result. “So we just pick a random star and jump?”
“It’s not quite that bad,” Peter continued. “Let me explain our options.”
Stiles sat down heavily, waiting for the weasel-wording to begin. Let Perry record Peter’s little excuses so when we get back they’ll know who to blame for the delays.
“As you know, we think we’re around six hundred light-years from the center of the Colonies at Old Earth.”
“As you think,” Stiles interrupted.
“As we all think,” Jimmy argued. They stared at each other, waiting for the next punch line to fall.
Peter continued, ignoring the bickering. “We have a good assumption about where the Colonies lie from our system entry point, which at least points us in the right direction. If we had enough supplies, we could simply punch in a destination six hundred lights along that path and hopefully come out somewhere in the middle of human space.”
“But we can’t, because there’s not enough food to last the trip,” Stiles added sarcastically. State the obvious, fool.
“No, we can’t. So what can we do? We have two competing needs; get home quickly, and find food. So, we can utilize two strategies: jump as far as we dare, like a hundred light-years, and hope we turn up at a stellar system where we can find food, or make a series of shorter jumps, like maybe twenty lights between—utilizing the same overall number of effective days in stasis—but being able to explore more systems for food along the way.”
“So, what’d you suggest?” Ali asked.
Peter threw his hands up in surrender. “That’s a tough question. I’ve been thinking about this for a couple days and each has its own drawbacks. Problem is it get’s worse. I wish I had good news, but I don’t.”
“What do you mean by that?” Stiles asked.
Peter paused another moment before providing the bad news. Reluctantly, he said, “I wanted to recommend using the twenty-light jump strategy. If we couldn’t find food in five systems, I wondered if a couple more stars would make any difference at all, but nothing close-in matches what we’re looking for. So, if we use the twenty-light strategy, we’d be searching unstable stars with a really low chance of success. With all the systems I’ve researched, they’re only two that would make ideal home stars. One is 61.4 light-years away, and the next one out is 86 lights from the first.”
Ali scribbled on his PAD. “So that would leave us with food for 26.6 days at the first star and five days at the other.”
“That’s about right,” Peter replied.
“So, we’re gambling everything on those two stars,” Stiles observed.
“True,” Peter replied, “but it’s the only game in town.”
“Fine; let’s do it,” Stiles agreed. Let’s get this show on the road, he thought impatiently. I got things to do.
“Alright,” Peter replied, “I found a star—K2 class—61.4 light-years away in the Scorpius Sector that gives us our closest and best chance. I think I detected a transit indicating a terrestrial planet. The other is a K4 in the Lupus Sector. I’m not sure, but there was some gravitational microlensing I think I saw
which points to larger planets. Anyway, the spectral class is promising, at least.”
“Set it up,” Stiles commanded impatiently. “Oh, and I also want your full list of candidate stars on my PAD right now. I want to review where they are before we jump.”
Peter transferred his data, and Stiles glanced at his PAD to be sure he received it.
“Fine,” Stiles concluded, “if that’s all, I got other things to do. Have Perry set the jump parameters, but this time I want both you and Henry to cross-check his work. We got a lot riding on this next maneuver.”
Stiles did not wait for any more discussion and simply got up abruptly and left the conference room for the bridge, and his sanctuary away from his underlings.
* * *
It was 2100 hours and time for Jimmy to sleep. Even though it would be a short day tomorrow—they would jump by 0800—it would be an important day. Jimmy glanced at his bed and wondered if it would even be worth trying to fall asleep; he was just too wound-up thinking about all the excitement.
He opened the PAD resting on his cabin desk and tinkered with the project he was working on over the last couple weeks. He spent another hour tweaking it until it was just right. Satisfied, he sent the plans to manufacturing and ordered up five units.
*WORKING ….* the machine slaved over his PAD, *ITEMS WILL BE AVAILABEL IN TWELVE MINUTES AT STORAGE BIN 15-A.*
Jimmy left his room and headed to manufacturing to complete his last official assignment of the day.
CHAPTER 18
Antares Star System – Jump Prep
Stiles had trouble falling asleep. If he closed his eyes, all he could think about was what he needed to do later in the morning. The magnitude of the tasks he faced gnawed at his consciousness, willing him to stay awake. As he lay in bed, he noticed how dead-quiet it was on the ship; it was so still it felt as though the air around him had become a solid thing, halting the movement of every molecule. It was he and infinity, sharing a cabin on a ship heading into a dark, deep hole.