by Clint Wilson | Feb 20, 2013 | Story |
Author : Clint Wilson, Staff Writer
“Donovan, anchor the antenna atop that formation, mother says it’s the only place high enough.”
The mountain jutted up at an odd angle. But it was only more of the non-descript surface of this desolate, lifeless rock. His captain looked at him sternly and he knew there would be no arguing. He grabbed the antenna and slipped it into his belt.
As he trudged away, his spacesuit protecting him from the almost non-existent atmosphere, the hill loomed threateningly. He picked a reasonably flattish path to start his ascent, but the trail quickly became near vertical. He clambered further, using his hands, finding it difficult to get his gloved fingers into many of the cracks.
At one point he found a small plateau and turned around to see the team in the distance. They were tiny white specs. His earpiece crackled. “Everything okay up there? You gotta keep moving son. Mother is reporting meteor activity nearby and we want to blast off ay-sap!”
“On it sir.” He turned and began moving to the left, sweating bullets. Soon enough though he rounded a bend and saw that he had picked the wrong route. Part of the ledge on which he was standing had broken away, leaving nothing but sheer vertical rock. On the other side of the gap the ledge continued. He thought he could probably make the jump without incident yet the consequences of a misjudgment were unthinkable.
His earpiece crackled again. “Can’t see you Donovan. Are you almost there? Mother says we’ve gotta move. Apparently we’re about to get hammered by a major shower. This piss-poor atmosphere won’t help us. You hear me? You moving your ass son?”
Donovan knew he had no other choice, so he took a deep breath and he leapt. And the distance was farther than he had thought, and for a split second, as he hung there in empty space, he knew he had failed, and he closed his eyes tight.
But he thumped down onto solid rock. Surprised he opened his eyes and was shocked to see that the gap in the ledge had somehow repaired itself. Again his captain screamed in his ear. He snapped to and scrambled forward confused.
A few minutes later he crested the summit and there he quickly anchored the antenna. Then as he turned to make his way back he saw a far off glowing streak followed by an explosion. Meteors began to pelt the planet’s surface in the distance. Donovan started to run, a bad idea when descending a steep mountain in a bulky spacesuit.
As the shower thickened and drew closer he ran faster, and then he tripped and spilled headlong out over nothingness, and this time he saw the mountain move. A sudden protrusion of rock jutted out, catching him gently, and then began lowering him toward the stony plain below. He stared wide-eyed, thinking the mountain was collapsing, but then quickly realized to his utter surprise that the whole mass was actually lurching forward!
In another moment he was deposited gently alongside his wild-eyed crewmates. And then as another meteor exploded just meters away, the liquid mountain reared up, and before anyone could question a thing, they found themselves and their landing craft under the protection of a vast stony ceiling. There were muffled explosions above, yet they remained completely unscathed.
And then as quickly as it had started the onslaught stopped, and the rocky ceiling lifted away with a whoosh, revealing the clear dark sky once more. And they all sat stupefied as the living mountain slowly lumbered back toward the horizon.
by Patricia Stewart | Feb 19, 2013 | Story |
Author : Patricia Stewart, Staff Writer
(Caution: Science content) The Perseus Space Colony is a marvel of twenty-third century engineering. It is located approximately 400,000 kilometers from the Earth, and trailing 60 degrees behind the Moon. Astronomers call it the Lagrange (L5) point, and it’s one of the very few truly stable orbits in the Earth-Moon system. The gravitational forces of the Earth, Moon, and Sun keep the mammoth habitat in an 89-day kidney shaped sub-orbit around the L5 point. Like a marble in a bowl, if the colony drifts in any direction, the E-M-S gravity fields always brings it home.
The Perseus’ outermost “H” ring is 2,700 meters in diameter, and it houses the living quarters for the 824 permanent residents, and the 182 visitors that are “on-station” at any given time. The Preseus rotates at a leisurely 0.73 revolutions per minute, which produces a comfortable 0.8g in the “H” ring; less as you approach the hub. As the H-ring spins at more than 100 meters per second (circumferentially), it produces some disorienting physiological effects on the occupants. For example, if a person in the H-ring drops an object, it curves sideways as it falls, a radial Coriolis effect. It’s the same phenomenon that causes hurricanes to rotate counterclockwise in the northern hemisphere. Permanent residents don’t even notice the effect when they go about their cycle’s business, but first time visitors always move around like they had taken too many recs.
Senior Maintenance Engineer Louis Spiridon crawled backwards out of the cylindrical conduit that exits the noisy pumping room of the C-ring’s recycling center. As he removed his hearing protection, he became aware of the variable wail of the station’s emergency alarm. He activated a comm panel along the wall of the main corridor to find out what was wrong. The computer informed him that there had been a significant solar flare event, and that all personnel had been ordered into the shielded auditorium at the station’s hub. “Do I have time to take a shower?” he asked, knowing that it generally took hours for the sun’s coronal mass ejection to reach Earth’s orbit, and because the recycling center tended to leave an unpleasant scent on all those that pass through.
“Negative,” responded the computer. “This is an X-class flare. The immediate concerns are the high levels of electromagnetic radiation, not coronal ejecta. Lethal levels of x-rays have already reached the station. You need to start running anti-rotation, now.”
“What? Shouldn’t I head for a spoke, so I can take a lift to the auditorium?” Just incase the computer knew what it was talking about; Louis began jogging against the station’s direction of rotation.
“Sorry,” replied the computer. ”The lifts won’t function in an X-class flare. But, fortunately for you, the current orientation of the Perseus has the shielded auditorium located directly between your current location and the sun. However, you’ll only be in its shadow for another 3 seconds. Since the station is rotating, you need to run, not jog, to stay within the auditorium’s shadow. As long as you maintain that position, you’ll be shielded from the lethal radiation. However, you need to sustain a steady pace of 780 meters per minute to keep the auditorium aligned with the sun. It’s only 0.1g at your current radial distance, so it should not be too difficult. The lethal phase of the flare will only last for another two hours and five minutes. That’s 91 laps around the C-ring. I’ll regulate your pace. A little faster please, Mr. Spiridon.”
by submission | Feb 16, 2013 | Story |
Author : Davena Oaks
Swaying on the jerking bus, her hooves planted widely to afford her better balance, Kira endured the ride with the expression of a true commuter: apathetic. Empty seats all around offered no temptation to sit, they were molded plastic with a mockingly thin layer of cloth cushion. They spared only a few inches for leg room – fine for humans and most other species with their short, single jointed limbs. Kira could not hope to fold her triple jointed legs into such a tiny space, so she remained standing. Deboarding at the downtown transit exchange, the shaggy furred female enjoyed a deep breath of cool evening air before heading for the sushi restaurant.
—
“So who do you think will show up?” Nyk peeled a sliver of pickled ginger off his plate and popped it in his mouth.
“Probably other alts, deekin, maybe a few greys?” Kira shrugged carelessly as the slang drew Nyk’s frown.
“Don’t call me a deekin. I told you I don’t like that.”
“Whatever. Greys don’t get touchy about the language. I don’t see why you do.”
“Greys don’t have to get touchy about much of anything.” Nyk hissed back at her and snagged a plate of unagi off the rollers, plunking it on the table between them. Discarding the plastic cover, he picked up one piece with his fingers while Kira snagged the other with a jab of her sticks. Nyk never used chopsticks, his scaly fingers lacked the sensitivity to manage the delicate task.
Kira was savoring the flakey meat when a slender human male appeared at the end of their table. Nervously he cleared his throat, obviously wanting their attention. Nyk immediately looked sour. Kira pasted a smile on her broad face.
“I must ask you and your companion to finish here for the evening,” the murmur of the restaurant went awkwardly silent.
“Sir we’re just-“
“We’re not done,” growled Nyk.
“No, you must go,” the man shook his head resolutely, rising to the posture of indignant restaurant owner.
Kira shook her heavy head. “We not causing trouble…”
The owner stepped back and pointed. In unforgiving sans serif it declared: We Reserve the Right to Refuse Service to Non-Humans.
Kira bristled disdainfully as she rose, unfolding her heavily muscled legs brought her full height-and-horns towering over the diminutive human. He shrank back.
“Oh? Well, thank you for covering our check, we’ll be sure to let our friends know how generous you were tonight.” Malice dripped from her words. The owner paled but said nothing as Kira turned and stomped away, followed by a skulking Nyk. On the way to the exit her gaze fell across a pale-skinned creature in a grey business suit sitting at the bar, sipping saki. He had been sitting there all evening, unmolested by the proprietor.
The grey glanced up at her and their eyes met briefly. The blue-eyed alien nodded slightly before Kira scowled at him and turned away. Outside, she and Nyk slowed to an ambling pace once they neared the bus stop. Shortly later, the grey joined them with a bemused smile glittering in his eyes.
“You’re going to get arrested one of these days,” his mouth barely moved when he spoke.
“For a free meal, I’ll take that risk. He wasn’t going to boot you out, figured I might make a point,” the larger alien replied agreeably. Nyk just shook his head beside her.
“Well you did, I enjoyed a ‘free meal’ too,” the grey replied.
The three burst out laughing and continued down the street and towards their meeting.
by submission | Feb 14, 2013 | Story |
Author : Bob Newbell
“Starship Tsiolkovsky, this is the Haven Space Station calling. Please respond.”
Captain John McCormick arose from his command chair. He and the other five recently reanimated members of the Tsiolkovsky crew were utterly shocked. The Tsiolkovsky had been launched on 18 June 2199, 100 years earlier. With its state of the art biostasis technology, the vessel was designed to allow its complement of six scientists to hibernate during the decades of travel between Earth and Alpha Centauri. Now, humanity’s first ambassadors to another solar system were being greeted by a human voice speaking perfect English.
Recovering from the initial shock of this unanticipated contact, McCormick radioed back, “This is Captain John McCormick of the Tsiolkovsky. Identify yourself.”
“Captain, I’m Commander Brijendra Patel of the Alpha Centauri Space Authority. I have no doubt you’re quite shocked to discover anybody out here. I’m equally sure you have a lot of questions. Would you allow me to have the station dock with your vessel? I’ve been expecting you and I’ve prepared a proper hero’s welcome for you aboard Haven.”
Two hours later the dazed crew of the Tsiolkovsky were seated around a large oak table in a tastefully decorated dining room. They were offered food and drink but had little appetite.
“How did anyone beat us out here?” asked McCormick.
“Twenty years after you left,” replied Patel, “the Starship Clarke, propelled by a Bussard ramjet more advanced than your ship’s nuclear drive, set out for Alpha Centauri. Their journey only took half as long as yours.”
“So the trip only took 50 years? And they left 20 years after us? That means they beat us here by 30 years. So, the crew of the Clarke were the first to arrive?”
“Not exactly, Captain,” said Patel. “You see, 20 years after the Clarke left Earth, the Starship Zubrin began the journey using an antimatter propulsion system that compressed the travel time to 20 years.”
McCormick was stunned. “Okay,” said McCormick, “so the first people to arrive here were the crew of the Zubrin in 2259. Right?”
“No,” said Patel. “Five years after the Zubrin left for Alpha Centauri, another ship, the Goddard, was launched. Its graviton impeller engine allowed it to approach lightspeed. It arrived after about five years of travel.”
McCormick sighed. “So in 2249 the Goddard arrived and–”
“The Von Braun,” said Patel. “Quantum tunneling drive. Set out two years after the Goddard. Arrived here instantaneously.”
“Alright!” said McCormick, red faced. “Instantaneously! So that’s, what? The year 2246? That’s when–”
“The Starship Oberth,” Patel interjected. “Tachyon engine. Launched after the Von Braun but arrived here way before everybody else by traveling back in time en route.”
McCormick stared at Patel for half a minute. “Well, any other ships?!”
“No,” said Patel. “I am the grandson of two members of the Oberth’s crew. It was my idea to establish this station to greet the interstellar pioneers who came ‘before’ us. Captain, you and your crew are heroes. And your arrival makes this an historic day!”
“How?!” asked McCormick angrily. “The Oberth, the Von Braun, the Goddard, the Zubrin, the Clarke! They all beat us here!”
“That’s what makes this day historic!” said Patel, standing up and raising his wine glass to McCormick and his crew. “There are many pioneers in the history of the exploration and colonization of Alpha Centauri. But you, ladies and gentlemen, are unique. You got here last!”
by Duncan Shields | Feb 13, 2013 | Story |
Author : Duncan Shields, Staff Writer
Janice faltered in the dark apartment. It wasn’t hers. She was sobering up, the guy was snoring, and it was time to go. She had her panties in her pocket and her shoes were dangling from her hand by their thin, blue straps.
It was time to head home, have a shower, print off a fresh uniform, and try to clear her head for work.
She had a sub-orbital to catch to Leningrad and then the Skyrock up to Luna2. Too many launch G’s and ten years of space travel meant that her career as a flight attendant was coming to an end. Osteoporosis was setting in and her capillaries were starting to rupture.
She had a future of varicose veins and weak bones to look forward to.
Janice was independent. She used to laugh at the younger attendants who would sign on to permanent careers with one company for pitiful pensions or use their job to romance rich patrons in First Class and catch themselves a husband.
She used to scoff at the ones who found sugar daddies to pay their bills while they put their own paycheques into low-yield, low-risk investments. Sheep.
Janice looked at them as space whores. She thought she was better than that. Things were not working out, however, and she hated herself at the moment.
Janice had been a smart girl with a bright future. The flight attendant job offered a chance to travel and was a fairly easy form of crowd control. The safety protocols were so redundant these days that an accident was nearly impossible.
It was safe, she saw the worlds, and she was beautiful. For a while, she was an angel of space.
Time had raced past her, however, and she’d never finished her degree. Her body was starting to degrade and she had no money of her own saved up or at least not enough to retire with.
She’d put all her paychecks into high-risk investments and as of three months ago, her money was gone. A decompression had taken all of her investments away along with most of the executives that were behind the project.
A low-level panic had started in. She’d been given a copy of the note from the work doctor that said she had six months left of safe travel before she should be grounded.
It was an execution sentence. The party was over and it was last call. This angel was getting her wings clipped.
So she started sleeping with first class passengers and taking their money.
She had nothing. Something about flight attendants really got men hot and bothered so the pickings were easy but most of them had wives already.
She had four months left to hook a husband with money before her time ran out. She had nightmares of the bubbles building up in her bones until she became too fragile to walk. She’d be in a wheelchair and begging for change. Her looks would be gone.
She’d be terrified of falling.
She is terrified of falling.
