Symbiosis Chapter 9

“Tom?” Rianya called. She looked around their quarters and didn’t see any activity that might suggest he was there. All was quiet, no moving pictures on the monitors or sounds coming from the music speakers, and no water running in the lavatory. “Go see if Papa’s in there,” she told Zalara, pointing to the kitchen area. While the girl bounced off, Rianya stepped into the bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the splayed out man on the bed. He didn’t look at all as if he’d gone there intentionally but instead had collapsed, or drank a liter of barley ale without a meal.

Zalara skipped in with her hair bouncing behind her. Rianya quickly picked her up and took her in the great room where she could put together some puzzles and draw pictures. The last few days had been almost chaos with travel, changing plans, new environment, the journalists, new people to meet and learn their names, and even a new friend for Zalara. Her brain swam around and didn’t seem to be able to concentrate on one thing.

She brought a glass of juice for Zalara and her own cup of tea and sat down with the child to see how the puzzle was coming along.

“I think that piece might fit there,” she said and pushed it in one direction.

“Why?”

“It’s straight on this edge. That means it must go on the outside.” The girl’s face brightened and she quickly slapped the piece on the table locking it with another. A moment later she began sorting through the pieces and pulling out all of them with a straight edge on one side. Rianya watched her focus and could almost see the wheels and gears turning.

Tom had plenty of electronic technological things for her to play with, but Rianya wasn’t on board with all of them. She liked to feel, touch, manipulate things in her hands and feel their characteristics, manifest them in three dimensions. The electronic things did all the playing by themselves and the children just watched on, but with soft dolls and hard puzzles the imagination had to be engaged. She was sure that was a good thing, equal to all the math things Tom showed her about counting and figuring things out.

“I’m going to check on Papa. I want you to stay here in the cabin and work your puzzle. Don’t leave our quarters. I will worry about where you are if you leave.”

“I not leave, Mama.”

Rianya touched the focused girl briefly and took herself to the bedroom as well. Shoes off, she climbed on the accommodating mattress gently and also lay down, pushing herself up against Tom just enough to make contact without waking him. She’d always needed more sleep than the humans, more now with the artificial human daylight cycle. A naturally longer day on her world translated to a nine or ten hour need for sleep, not seven or eight as most everyone else on the ship, with the single exception of Quixote. He never seemed to sleep. She yawned and her brain went quietly into regeneration.

Bleep. Bleep.

Rianya wasn’t sure where she was but it was comfortable, warm, and only the faintest light from above gave her any clue.

Chirp, chirp.

She lifted her head and found Zalara mushed between her and Tom, asleep, and Tom still asleep and making that awful snore sound. How was I even asleep with that going on? She reached for the intercom to stop the chime.

“Jackson’s quarters,” she answered as Tom had instructed her to do. She tried to stifle a yawn but it escaped anyway.

“Rianya, is the captain there?” She wasn’t sure who was asking, or what time it was.

“Well, yes.”

“Is everything alright?” She now recognized Dr. Adams’ voice. It’s unusual cadence and low pitch belonged to no one else aboard. Tom told her Adams was from a place called Boston and that was why his words sounded different.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“It’s 21:00 hours and no one’s seen him since lunch, that’s all.” Rianya shook her head suddenly to clear up the fog.

“It’s 21:00? Oh, I’ll get him up.”

“No, don’t do that if he’s resting. The crew has been asking and I drew the short straw.”

“The short straw?” Rianya was rubbed at her face as if a mask stopped the explanation from entering her head. Another yawn.

“Goodnight, Rianya.”

“Goodnight,” she said. The intercom shut off from the other end without any action on her part. She watched her small family sleeping in the dim light. Tom finally rolled to one side and the grating snoring ceased. That was her cue to spoon up and join them in the alternate consciousness.

~~~

“Good morning everybody,” Jackson said entering the bridge at 06:56. He carried his coffee in one hand a portable reader in the other. The three regular shift crew members had not come on duty just yet. Dr. Gregory sat at the navigation con and Ayn Byrd at the helm. Communications didn’t require an operator overnight.

“You’re up early,” Scott said.

“You’re up late,” Tom replied back. “Who put you on the duty roster for third shift?”

“I put myself on. I’m updating some charts in the data bank. I wanted to be sure they didn’t overwrite existing maps.”

“Mr. May, I never know whether to say good morning or good night to you.” The man smiled.

“It’s morning, but I do call breakfast my dinner.”

“I need to take a look at the roster,” Jackson muttered. Chen Lee and Jean Rougeau arrived on the bridge together stepping out of the tube at precisely 06:59.

“Good morning, Captain,” Lee said quickly; Rougeau was half a beat behind.

“We’re going into hyper sonic space this morning if Quixote has kept his promise. Please take your stations, gentlemen.”

“We’re past Jupiter’s orbit, I think you can take her out without anything in the way,” Scott said. He stood and pressed a few icons on the panel before Jean took his place. Jay did the same and updated Chen on their current speed and heading before excusing himself, leaving with Dr. Gregory.

“I trust you boys have both had your breakfast. Is Mr. Watson coming to work today?”

“He’s right behind us, sir,” Mr. Rougeau said quickly, but the tube didn’t seem to be bringing any passengers to the bridge at the moment. Jackson nodded and drank some of the morning ambition in his cup. Comfortably seated he set the cup down and picked up the reader and looked at the specs on the Maria Mitchell. He flipped to the section about the engines and propulsion and began to scour the data while he waited for Stuart Watson to join them.

The tube door slid open and Watson jumped out, stopping quickly then walking briskly to his post. “Good morning, Captain,” he said as he hurried past and sat down quickly at the communication dash. Jackson glanced at the chronometer beside him displaying 07:01. He raised a single eyebrow less than half a centimeter and looked back at his portable.

“Gentlemen, where are we, and are we ready to go to FTL4, or do you need a few minutes to finish your coffee?”

“Ready, Captain,” Ensign Rougeau said without hesitation.

“Ready, Sir, at your command,” Lieutenant Lee said.

“Mr. Watson, please transmit our coordinates to the SA and let me know when we have permission to deploy,” the captain said without waiting for a reply. Jackson tapped a button on the side table of his chair.

“Engineering.”

“Good morning, Quixote, status on the FTL?”

“As promised, we are ready for an FTL zero test whenever you are, sir.”

“Captain, we’re six AUs from Sol and coordinates for Eta Cass are locked in.”

“Thank you, Rougeau. Watson?”

“No return com, Sir, stand by.”

“Lee, prepare for FTL zero for twenty five AUs on course to Eta Cass.” He watched as the three young men took the focus on their job with all seriousness.

“Maria Mitchell, this is Science Administration North America. We’ve received your status and you are approved to proceed. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

Captain Jackson broke into his first smile of the morning and leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. He tapped a little bell icon on his side table screen. The boatswain signal whistled throughout the ship.

“Attention, crew this is the captain. Secure all stations and prepare for Faster Than Light 1 X  trial.” He looked up and out the window dome. “Lieutenant Lee, employ the FTL drive.” Jackson held his breath.

“Aye, sir.” Lee took the accelerator in one hand and pressed some buttons with the other.  Maria Mitchell hesitated for a half a second. Jackson took a hold of the side arms on his chair and before the inertia stabilizers kicked in the ship shot out under them like a sub sonic bullet; every person plunged into their seat, pinned momentarily as if gravity had gripped them by a tether and suddenly let go like a slingshot.

A few moments later the speed began to multiply exponentially until they reached the speed of light. Outside the view began to distort slightly, yet it was still a four year journey to the closest star.

“FTL at one times C squared, Captain, 300,000 kilometers per second.”

“Thank you Mr. Lee,” Jackson said, and tapped an intercom button. “Quixote, what’s your status down there?”

“Easy sailing, Captain, we’re just humming along.  Bring us up to FTL10, no troubles.”

“You heard the man, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, sir, FTL10 coming up,” Mr. Lee said to the captain. At ten times light speed, the fastest the former science ships could travel, it would still take nearly five months to get to the nearest star. The ship no longer lurched ahead but simply accelerated smoothly, as the older ships had when going nine to ten times light speed. “Three million K per second, Captain.”

Jackson stood up and took a few steps toward the human fishbowl of a bow two decks high and as wide as the ship. The lights of stars, but not other galaxies, began to flatten slightly from circular points of light into oval ones. They still had passed none of them.

“Chen, this is as fast as we used to go,” Jackson said softly. He gazed out the window and turned back to his bridge crew, glancing at each man in turn. He couldn’t seem to keep a straight face, but instead clamped his teeth tight to avoid breaking out in a goofy smile.

“Are we ready to go ten power seven?”

“That’s…” Mr. Watson said and closed his eyes to think.

“Ten million kilometers per second,” Jackson answered for him. “Approximately.” He left the fishbowl and returned to his command chair. “I’m going to be honest with you,” he said solemnly. The men turned to him while they screamed along at ten times light speed. “None of us have ever gone this fast, ever. I’m pretty excited, and I want to remind you we’re going to make history in a few minutes.”

Captain Thomas Jackson knew better than to jump from ten times the speed of light to C squared 7. Three million to ten million was a colossal leap in power. No one said anything but smiles began to cast around to each other on the bridge. Jackson tapped the intercom.

“This is the captain. Everyone take a look at the chronometer and remember where you are at this exact moment. Humans are about to go faster than we ever have in our million year history. Enjoy the ride,” he said and bonked the button with his fist.

“Lieutenant Lee, C square two sounds good. Let’s make sure Quixote has the formula right down there.”

“I double checked the figures, and all seem to be spot on.”

“Good to hear, Mr. Lee. Go to FTL power two then.”

“Aye, sir.” The pilot’s hand gripped the black rubber accelerator handle and he slid it forward just a millimeter, and then another. The increase in speed wasn’t even noticeable. “We’re at C squared power two,” Lee said aloud. The captain looked at his bridge crew, then to Mr. Lee.

“Let’s go to power five.” Lee pushed the lever to C squared five.

“Fifth power light speed, Sir,” Lee confirmed.

“Captain we’re being drawn in!” Jean shouted. A singularity materialized in front of their eyes. Surrounded by countless stars, a flat black circle as large as Jupiter blocked their view of everything beyond it. What looked like comet sized rainbow leaves and feathers surrounded the gravity hole in a swirling kaleidoscope marking the event horizon of oblivion. The Maria Mitchell and her crew had just seconds to get away before it would be their grave.

“Reverse course!” Jackson barked. “One-eighty!”

“That’s not in our database!” Jean said, his eyes and hands flying over the control panel searching for the right buttons and icons to engage.

“We can’t stop!” Mr. Lee yelled, firing thrusters and rocket brakes.”

“Ninety degrees positive Z!” Jackson shouted. Lee complied. Without hesitation the ship skyrocketed upwards 90 degrees like a fighter jet on steroids. Tom gripped the arms of his chair as the sudden G force threw everyone deep into their seats.

“I’m losing control!” Lee cried. The Maria Mitchell shuddered as if it were flying into an asteroid field at light speed. Artificial gravity stopped functioning but everyone was inertially stuck in their seats and kept focused at their stations.

“Reverse course plotted and engaged, Sir! Six Gs!” the navigator shouted.

“Watson, message to Science Administration, ships logs and status, go!” Jackson squawked.

“Captain, what are you doing up there?” came Quixote’s voice over the intercom. “You’re burning up my reactor!”

“Singularity 100 AU’s ahead. Give us full power, Quixote, all the way!”

“Where did it come from?!”

“Power now or we’re never finding out!”

“I’ve got power, Captain,” Lee said.

“Go, Lee! Go!”