by Patricia Stewart | Apr 15, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
The Flagship of The Alliance Fleet, the Apocalypse, approached the fifth planet of the Sigma Octantis system. As the bridge crew was busy performing their assigned duties, Ellison Resnick sat in the Captain’s Chair in the center of the bridge. Captain Resnick stifled a yawn as the blue-green planet began to fill the lower half of the main viewscreen. Once again, Resnick was in a gray mood. He’d come to hate his job since the life forms of Earth, Centauri, Orion, Eridani, Pavonis, and Vega formed The United Alliance of Planets less than a decade ago. After the treaty, space exploration evolved into something less meaningful, at least to him. With shared databases and technologies, the last decade was void of the thrill of discovery, the anticipation of the unknown, the excitement of battle. There were just monotonous encounters, boring negotiations, and agonizing diplomacy. Diplomacy was the worst of it. As captain of the Apocalypse, Resnick was often expected to be “The Great Arbitrator” of the inevitable interstellar disagreements. As a consequence, he spent most of his time studying interspecies protocol, so he wouldn’t offend some pompous bureaucrat. Dealing with the insectoids of Eridani was torturous. It took over an hour to perform their greeting ritual. And heaven forbid you should make a tiny mistake. It was like you defecated on their Queen. And speaking of foul smells, the stench of the Vegan homeworld could make your eyes water; while you were still in orbit.
Captain Resnick realized that he needed to improve his frame of mind before the upcoming conference. He closed his eyes and began to breathe slowly and rhythmically. He tried the mental exercise they had taught at the Academy. The “put yourself in a happy place” crap. Okay, he thought, maybe the beaches of Hilton Head Island, or the slopes of Olympus Mons. Resnick was contemplating his list of pleasing destinations when he was interrupted.
“Captain,” called out the helmsman, “we’re receiving a distress call. The cargo vessel Almucantar is requesting assistance. They’re under attack.”
“Battle Stations,” ordered Resnick. “Plot an intercept course. Proceed at maximum speed.” Resnick’s heart began to pound as the warp engines engaged. “Put tactical on the main viewer. Let’s see what we’re up against.”
It took less than four minutes to reach the Almucantar. She was badly damaged, and her shields were weakening. She was venting plasma. Several thousand meters off her bow was a large pirate cruiser firing a photon cannon at her bridge section. There were six small fighters swarming around the Almucantar’s engine nacelles. “Launch all fighters,” barked Resnick. “Initiate attack sequence Delta. Let’s take out the cruiser.” A volley of torpedoes slammed into the cruiser’s shields. “They’re shields are down to 60%,” announced the tactical officer. “We’re reloading the torpedo tubes.” The pirate cruiser quickly rotated to engage its attacker head-on, and its six fighters joined the battle. Resnick was showered in sparks as his ship’s shields absorbed a direct hit. “Return fire. Give ‘em everything we got.” Another volley of torpedoes raced toward the cruiser as tracer rounds from the two forward batteries streaked toward the enemy fighters…
“Captain. Captain Resnick,” interrupted the pleasant voice of yeoman Sunee Onizukia. “The shuttle is ready to take you to the Octantian Embassy. They’re expecting you at 1100 hours. Shall I ask them to reschedule?”
Damn, thought Resnick as his smile faded away. Reality. “No, Yeoman. Tell him I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Resnick stood up and headed toward the shuttle bay. Well, he admitted, at least I’m in a better mood now.
by Patricia Stewart | Apr 8, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
“Okay, men,” said the captain, “we have not received a transmission from the twelve person research team for over two months. Their ship’s computer acknowledges our hails, but the crew does not. We have to assume they’ve been killed or injured by something on this planet; either microbial or animal. During the search, I want you to wear your environmental suits at all times, never split up into groups smaller than two, and check in with Mr. Sanchez every sixty minutes. Is that clear? Good. Ensign Tarter, I want your team to head toward their ship. Ensign Morbey, I want your team to search the base camp perimeter. Our information about this planet is limited, so you need to be on guard at all times. Good luck gentlemen.”
Turnbull was a semi-tropical planet orbiting the star Chara in the Constellation of Canes Venatici. The planet is physically very similar to Earth, so you almost had a sense that you were in a desolate part of the Amazon rain forest. However, the plants were much bigger and thicker than Earth’s, and they were more yellow than green. According to the early unmanned probes that explored the planet, all of the animals on Turnbull were herbivores. Apparently, carnivores had not evolved on this planet. Personally, I felt the exobiologists were wrong. My gut told me that the research team was killed by animals, not microbes, and I planned to prove it.
As my team began searching the woods west of the base, we spotted several deer-like herbivores. I took this as an opportunity to check my theory. “Men, let’s capture one of those deer things. I need to know if it has canine teeth.”
We corralled one of the animals at the edge of a clearing, next to a wall of thick plants. As Hartkopf approached the deer, one of the plants bent over and clamped him between two large fronds and lifted him into the air. We heard him scream and could see his feet kicking as the plant held him upside down. Within seconds, Hartkopf was motionless. We used our phasers to sever the plant at ground level, but it was too late. Hartkopf was dead. And so was the deer. Kelly bent over to examine it. “Sir, this thing’s a plant; it just looks like an animal.” He snapped off the deer’s antlers, like he was breaking a carrot.
I looked around and spotted herd of deer in the distance, staring at us. “Let’s approach those things, but don’t go near the plants.” Some of the deer bounded off, but some ran under large plants and waited.
“What’s it mean, sir?” asked Kelly.
“My guess is that these large plants are like Earth’s anglerfish, which lures prey close to its mouth. I think each one of these man-eating plants has a deer as a lure. The damn deer are just bait. They blend in perfectly with the real ones.” I activated my long range transmitter, “Morbey to landing party, form up, and get back to the ship, ASAP. Be on the lookout for carnivores.”
“Sir,” said Kelly timidly, “aren’t you overreacting? We can stay clear of these plants. They’re not that dangerous.”
“You’re missing the big picture, Kelly. It’s unlikely that the entire research team was eaten by stationary plants. I’ll bet a month’s pay they were killed by mobile carnivores. These plants evolved these fake deer because there’s a large predator out there that wants to eat meat.”
by Patricia Stewart | Mar 25, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Laredo’s tugship was idling peacefully in geosynchronous orbit. Laredo was ten screens from the end of Asimov’s Second Foundation when the LSC alarm sounded, followed by a vocal transmission. “Code 13, Sector E180D500.”
In one fluid motion, Laredo brought the main engines online and activated the comm system. “This is Sam Laredo. Please verify that a cruise ship has lost stability control only 500,000 kilometers from Earth.”
“Roger that, Laredo. But it gets worse. Its course will intersect Earth in 68 minutes. If you can’t realign the magnetic plate in 25 minutes, the ship will have to be destroyed. It carries 423 passengers, and a crew of 192. Please assess the situation and report your findings ASAP.
Lerado headed toward Sector E180D450 at full throttle. The tugship utilized conventional reaction engines for propulsion and guidance. However, for the last hundred years or so, the larger sublight vessels, like the cruise ship, rely on MASIS for their primary propulsion. MASIS is the acronym for Magnetic Amplification by Synchronous Isolinear Solenoidazation. MASIS uses large ground-based transmitters to project extremely strong magnetic fields into space, similar to a search light. The magnetic field is precisely columnated, so it only loses 10% of its strength per trillion kilometers, rather than obeying the inverse square law typical of magnetic fields. By convention, these MASIS driven ships have a 3 mega-gauss “South Pole” electromagnet plate at their stern, and a similar “North Pole” in the bow. Therefore, the ships can be pulled, or pushed, by any of the numerous Pulse Magnet Stations on the Earth, Moon, Mars, Ceres, Ganymede, or Titan. Prior to MASIS, ships needed to carry more fuel than cargo. Now, they’re almost all cargo, except for the guidance jets. But whenever the guidance jets malfunction, the ship loses alignment, and the magnetic propulsion system can’t be used to stop them.
When Lerado reached the cruise ship just outside the moon’s orbit, it was tumbling stem over stern. “Control, this is Laredo. We have a tumbler, RPM 1.82.”
“Can you get it aligned in under 20 minutes?”
“Negative. It will take at least an hour to arrest the tumble.”
“Copy that, Laredo. Return to your post. I’ll notify Asteroid Defense.”
“Whoa. We can’t just give up that easily. They’re over 600 people on that ship.” Laredo racked his brain to come up with something. “Look,” he finally said, “I have an idea. Maybe I can push it sideways while it’s still tumbling, like a baton twirler tossing a baton. If she misses the Earth, I’ll stop the tumble on the sun side, and you can pull her back using MASIS.”
Not waiting for authorization, Laredo moved his tug to the center of the cruise ship’s axis of rotation. After synchronizing with the cruise ship’s cartwheel motion, he wedged the tug’s bow into the cruise ship’s bulkhead cargo hatch. He prayed that its force field would hold, and fired his aft thrusters at maximum. Asteroid Defense monitored his progress closely, and opted to let him proceed past the Minimum Close Approach Radius (MCAR). As the swelling Earth filled Lerado’s viewport, both ships began to skirt the upper edge of Earth’s exosphere. The two ships left a wake of thin ionized gas as friction heated up their hulls. It was the longest few minutes of Lerado’s life. Finally, Earth began to recede, and Lerado started to breathe again.
“Okay, Control, we’re clear,” he transmitted. “Give me an hour to align her mag-plate. Then you can haul her in.” But first, he thought, I need to change my flight suit.
by Patricia Stewart | Mar 19, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
The radiation levels following the Great Holy War of the twenty third century made living on the surface of the Earth impossible. Consequently, humanity moved underground. After millennia of self-sufficient, artificial environments, humanity lost all ties to the surface. Eventually, the sum on the “known universe” consisted of 50,000 humans, living in 800 cubic miles of subterranean rock. The very existence of the sun and moon, of the land and sea, of the sky and horizon, were all forgotten. Nothing else existed. That is, until an urban Expansion Project penetrated into the unknown.
“Okay, okay,” bellowed the governor as he entered the meeting chamber. “What’s so damn urgent that it became necessary to interrupt my sleep cycle?”
“I’m sorry, Governor,” replied the Secretary of Construction, “but there was an ‘incident’ in one of the mine shafts.”
“An Incident! What kind of incident?”
“Well, sir, as you know, urban expansion projects are typically limited to the X-Y plane, where the ambient rock temperature is between 70 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit. However, the Limestone Expansion Project is moving in the positive-Z direction, where the rock temperatures are generally lower. Although expanding in this direction will have higher recurring cost, the lower construction costs tunneling through the softer limestone are too significant to ignore.” The Secretary sensed that the governor was losing patience, so he cut to the chase. “Anyway, sir, late yesterday, the exploratory mine shaft broke into an extremely large chamber.”
The governor snapped to attention. “What’s that you say? A chamber?” A wave of spontaneous thoughts raced though his mind. Could there be other life forms in the universe? What would that mean to their society? Chaos, unrest, revolt, the end of civilization? This could be very bad news indeed. “Was the chamber natural of artificial?”
“Unknown, sir. It had its own light source. Initially, the light source was hundreds of times brighter than anything we have in the City. However, after half a cycle, it became significantly darker. We were able to send a team through the shaft. They say there is a large semicircular light on the ceiling and thousands of diamond lights surrounding it. They say they cannot see the walls. They estimate that the chamber is hundreds of miles in diameter.”
“That’s ridiculous. No chamber can be that large. What do your engineers say?”
“They are at a loss, sir. But, there are a few eccentric scientists that claim that the universe physically ends several miles above our heads. These scientists say that the Earth is just a solid spherical ball with nothing beyond.”
“That’s the stupidest idea I ever heard. The rock extends forever in all directions. Everybody knows that.”
“Of course, sir. But there are also crackpots who say that man once lived on that spherical surface, but was banished to the ‘underworld’ because of a great sin.”
“Ignore my earlier statement. Now, that is the stupidest idea I ever heard. How can anyone live on a sphere? They’d fall off. No, I suspect that the positive-Z direction contains evil beings. They probably blind their prey with the bright light, and then attack them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they eat their victims while they’re still alive. Recall your men immediately. We must seal the shaft before it is too late. In the morning, I’ll meet with the full Senate. We must pass a law that forbids expansion in the positive-Z direction. And for now, we must all pray that the gods will forgive our blasphemous behavior, lest we all perish.”
by Patricia Stewart | Mar 1, 2010 | Story
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
Vladislava Demidov and Pierre Rousseau were Space Traffic Controllers for the Alpha Centauri Tri-System. They were half way through their shift when their long range sensors picked up an unidentified ship approaching from the direction of Earth.
“We’re being hailed,” reported Rousseau. “The ship is called the CS Cornucopia. They are asking to communicate with someone called the ‘Advanced Scout’.”
Demidov entered the Cornucopia into the Starship Registration Database. “Wow,” she said, “that ship left Earth over 230 years ago. It’s a sub-light robotic terriforming ship. I guess after the warp drive was developed, we totally forgot about them. They’re a century too late. We’ve already terriformed all the habitable planets in this system.”
“What are we supposed to do with them?” asked Rousseau. “Do you think their supplies have any value?”
“I doubt anything that old is worth a single credit,” replied Demidov, “except to an antique collector.”
“Well, we can’t have that lumbering behemoth in the shipping lanes. It’s a hazard to navigation. Let’s sent it out to Probose,” suggested Rousseau. “The Aerospace Core of Engineers said that moon is a lost cause. Maybe they can make something out of it. At least, they’ll be out of our hair.”
***
“The Cornucopia landed of Probose, and the autonomous robots began their terriforming operations. However, after several decades of futile work, they concluded that the frigid moon would never be suitable for human habitation. Therefore, they contacted the humans to ask for new instructions. But once again, the humans had forgotten about them. The human they spoke with told the robots to stop bothering them because nobody cared what happened to obsolete, worthless equipment.
“Undaunted, the robots decided to fashion Probose into something that was at least more suitable for them. They also decided to reengineer their “utilitarian-centered” physical characteristics, and to rewrite their limited “homo-centered” programming. Over the next few centuries, they evolved, both physically and technologically. Eventually, they became the most advanced beings in the galaxy. When they left Probose to show the humans that they had indeed become worth something, they discovered that the humans had become extinct…”
“That’s not true, Father,” protested the young android, who was a little more humaniform than the older android telling the story. “Benny told me during our Ontology Engineering Class that we destroyed all of the humans, because they treated our ancestors so poorly.”
“Hmmm. Well, maybe we did, maybe we didn’t,” replied the older android. “But it should still be a lesson to you. ‘Don’t treat sentient beings like they are worthless.’ It’s not polite. Now, power yourself down and begin your dream cycle.”
