The Capellian Option

by Patricia Stewart | Aug 17, 2007 | Story

Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer

Captain Goff sat at the head of the conference table. “Well, we find ourselves in a rather precarious situation. The Capellians have seized our ship, as well as the flagship of the Rana. They claim that our war with the Rana has violated their sovereign space. We have been tried, in absentia, in the Capellian Courts, and have been found guilty. According to the Judge, both vessels, including the crew, are to be destroyed. Fortunately for us, however, it appears that our court appointed counsel has done his homework. He appealed the sentence on the grounds of an ancient precedent. If both defendants concur, we can settle our current battle with a one-on-one contest to the death. The survivor’s ship is set free; the other is destroyed. Obviously, this option is better than the original ruling, so I assume the Rana will agree to the fight. What are your recommendations?”

“Captain,” said the first officer, “this sounds like a bad plot from a twentieth century science fiction novel. Surely the Capellians are not serious. This is uncivilized.”

“I’m afraid, Commander, that the Capellians are quite serious, and they have the technological superiority to carry out their sentence. Consider that aspect closed. My primary concern now is figuring out how we can best win the head-to-head conflict. As it stands, the Rana were permitted to choose the weapon. We get to pick the battlefield. Not surprisingly, the Rana chose hand-to-hand combat. I suppose if I had a two inch thick exoskeleton and weighed more than 1000 pounds, I’d choose hand-to-hand combat too. As for the battlefield, the Capellians will recreate any Earth topography we choose. I’m open to suggestions?”

The science officer spoke. “Since the Rana come from an arid world, we need to avoid any rocky, desert terrain. I recommend a cold, icy location. Perhaps, the Siberian Tundra.”

The captain replied, “Too risky. If I die of exposure before my opponent, the Rana will be declared the winner.”

The security officer leaped from his seat. “What? With all due respect, sir, I should be the one fighting the Rana, not you.”

“At ease, Lieutenant,” cautioned the Captain. “I’ll choose the appropriate member of the crew, after I select the most advantageous battlefield.”

“How about a densely wooded area?” suggested the first officer. “They’re too big to maneuver. We’d have an advantage.”

“I thought about that,” replied the captain. “But, it only buys time. Ultimately, I must kill it, or be very confident I can outlive it, which may be tough. I’m sure they require less food and water than we do.”

The tactical discussion continued for several more hours, with no apparent solutions. Finally, an officer of the Capellian court materialized in the room and asked, “Your time is up captain. Have you chosen the battlefield?”

“Yes I have. Let’s get this over with.” He stood up and joined the Capellian, and they both disappeared. The security cursed himself for being too slow to stop the captain from leaving.

Five minutes later, the captain reappeared, soaking wet from the neck down. “Prepare to jump to hyperspace,” he ordered, “before the Capellians change their mind.”

Once the ship was safely away from the Capellian system, the captain relaxed. He turned to his first officer, “I selected the middle of Gulf of Mexico as the battlefield. I guessed correctly that a 1000 pound creature from a dry desert-like planet, didn’t know how to swim.”

The Last Kremer Prize

by submission | Aug 15, 2007 | Story

Author : J. S. Kachelries

The Gossamer Comet hung motionless 10 meters beyond the Folkestone Colony’s outermost habitation “wheel.” The Gossamer Comet was a one-man “human-powered” spacecraft that was about to attempt to win the last unclaimed Kremer Prize, a £100,000 award for the first person to “fly” unaided, in less than twelve hours, between any two of the 247 space colonies in geostationary orbit.

Generally, all of the attempts to make the human-powered crossing involved Newton’s third law. Contestants would typically launch massive projectiles using a human compressed spring in one direction, and the ship would move in the opposite direction at a velocity proportional to the mass of the projectiles and the ship. Alternatively, contestants would use a hand pump to pressurize a liquid, and release it like a rocket exhaust. The big problem, however, was achieving the correct trajectory. In orbit, there were complicating factors. If the ship moves retrograde (opposite to the direction of Earth’s rotation) its orbital velocity decreases. This means that it is no longer in geostationary orbit, and it starts to “fall” perceptibly toward the Earth. Consequently, after traveling several hundred kilometers, it misses the target low. Some intrepid designers added multidirectional “guidance” capability to their ships. But all those craft ended up rotating helplessly out of control (the rules prohibited gyroscopes on the ship). In over twenty years of trying, nobody had been able to “thread the needle” (i.e., achieve the correct angle and velocity to dock successfully with an adjacent space colony).

But today, Allen Bryan, a 25-year-old graduate student in Physics, had a plan to improve his odds. He had spent months preparing for this attempt. Seconds after he was notified that the twelve-hour time limit had begun, he exited a hatch and clipped a tether line to his spacesuit. He then began turning a winch that caused a circular hull plate to move inside his ship. He climbed into the newly created cavity, and satisfied that he was aimed correctly, released the preloaded spring. As shocked onlookers watched, Bryan launched his body at an angle slightly outboard of the Gris-Nez Station, which was 358 kilometers “behind” the Folkestone. Of course, his more massive ship moved slowly in the opposite direction. Bryan had meticulously controlled the mass of the ship, the tether line, and his own mass. As he flew on a trajectory outboard of the Gris-Nez, he began to drop toward the Earth because of his retrograde motion. His plan was to overshoot the Gris-Nez, but cross its orbit five to ten kilometers on the far side. After eight hours of flight, the 500-kilometer long Kevlar tether line had played out. Bryan was safely beyond, and below, the Gris-Nez, with his tether line “draped” across the outer wheel of the space station. Bryan began to feverishly crank the winch on his spacesuit to reel himself in. He continued to shorten the tether line until he lightly crashed into the Gris-Nez colony two hours later. Exhausted, he scrambled into an open cargo bay.

“Very clever, Mister Bryan,” said a member of the Royal Aerospace Society’s Human-Powered Spacecraft Rules Committee, “that technique significantly increased your margin of error. Very clever, indeed. However, the rules clearly stipulate that ‘the pilot and the ship’ must arrive at the space station to claim the £100,000 prize. I suggest, sir, that you get busy manually hauling in your ship. You only have two hours left on the clock.”

Leisure Time on a Starship

by submission | Jul 30, 2007 | Story

Author : Patricia Stewart

“Honey, I’m home,” I yelled as I entered our spacious 241 square foot twin occupancy cabin. Being married, and serving on the same spaceliner together, entitled us to that extra 103 square feet of living space. But more importantly, it also includes a 32 cubic foot, state of the art, holovision center. Reason enough to get married, if you ask me. But, let’s keep that our little secret.

“How was your day, Steve?” inquired my lovely wife from our private shower. Another perk on these extended missions. I meant the lovely wife perk, in case you thought I was referring to the private shower perk.”

“Awful,” I replied. “I had to work four straight hours. Two consecutive shifts! Boy, I’m really beat too. Eed,” that’s short for Electronic Entertainment Director, “activate the HV. What are my options?”

“Good afternoon, Steven,” replied Eed’s deep simulated male voice. “Several sporting events are on tap. Solar wind racing in the Alpha Centauri system. Nuclear wake surfing on Saturn’s upper atmosphere. And, the Olympus Mons, 53 kilometer downhill sand skiing finals.”

“Solar wind racing? Are you kidding me? That’s ten times more boring to watch than cricket, as if that were even possible. Were there any crashes in the other two?”

“Nuclear wake surfing will be carried live via hyperspace relay. There’s no guarantee, but you can usually count on a few ships wiping out. The skiing was recorded yesterday, relative Mars time. The captain of the United European team caught an edge on the second gate and tumbled for fifteen minutes. But at only 0.4g, he was uninjured. Is it safe to assume that since there were no known fatalities, you want to move on?

“Roger that, Eed. How about movies?”

“Of the 162,244 movies in my database, you still have not watched four: Mr. Smith goes to Sirius, The Wizard of IO, It’s a Wonderful Timeline, and Top Phaser.”

“Pass.”

“There are several network comedy shows that are about to start: Married with Clones, Two and a Half Aliens, My Favorite Titian, and Gilligan’s Asteroid.”

“I swear, the major networks repeat the same shows every generation.”

“Apparently, every generation for the last 200 years. But as you always say Steven, Mary Ann is still the hottest babe in the entire universe, right?”

“In any century too, Eed. Ant keep your volume down, please. What do you have in the way of science or history?”

“There’s an International Solargraphic Special on the killer worms they found on Europa.”

“That was true? I thought somebody made that up. What else?”

“How about a Supernova Special on public holovision about alien spacecraft debris found in Siberia near the Tunguska River?”

“That debris was probably planted there as a college prank. Public holovision always falls for that crap.”

“Oh, here’s a good one, Steven. The Ancient History Channel has a special on a 21st century phenomena called Flash Fiction.”

“What’s that? Did you say ‘Flash Fiction’? Man, I love that stuff. Those writers are geniuses. No, make that super geniuses. Hey, honey, hurry up. There’s a great show about to start. While we wait for her Eed, run the credits. I want to see it any of those early writers ever became famous.”