The Adventures of Tremain & Christopher BoxSet

by Terry Marchion

  Outside, they could see the wheel turning gracefully, spinning as it created the simulated gravity. As it turned, they could see windows in the other sections, showing what looked like exercise equipment, a recreational area of sorts and a galley. In between the spokes, they saw huge solar panels, spanning the gap between spokes. It was mesmerizing.

  “Why weren’t there windows in the gardens?” Christopher asked. “It would have cleared things up right away.” Tremain breathed shallowly, looking a little green.

  “I would imagine it was due to the elaborate hologram they were using to simulate Earth-like conditions. It fooled me.” He shook his head. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Why would you say that?” Christopher laughed. Tremain looked rueful.

  “I should have seen it. The signs were all there. No colonists, but humans, living in primitive conditions. I knew about this ship. Studied it even. I knew about the large gardens that had been constructed. I knew all about it, but I didn’t see it.” He floated there, staring out into the void. Then he shook himself, as if to wake up. “But recrimination won’t help us now, will it?” He moved along the corridor. “Let’s explore, shall we?” He grinned at Christopher, who only glared at him, still trying hard not to be sick.

  There were three other openings in the hub, each one labeled with its destination. They entered one that read: Exercise room. As they climbed down, the gravity once again asserted itself. They exited the hatch to see the lights turning on in the room.

  Everything was neutral in color, the carpeting was beige, and the walls were an off-white. The exercise equipment was white or gray. They walked through the rows of treadmills, elliptical machines and weight machines.

  “They look so old, uncle.” Christopher said as he touched each machine as he passed.

  “Well, if you think about it, yes, they are old. Well, they’re pretty much antique by our standards, aren’t they?” he twanged a cable on a weight machine.

  “Did they have to exercise a lot, you think?” Tremain stopped and looked at his nephew, his teacher face clearly visible.

  “Well, that depends on how much time they spent outside this ring. If you think about it, any time spent in a weightless environment, the muscles tend to get weaker. Lifting weights and running on treadmills,” he gestured to the room, “especially in this simulated gravity, all helped to keep that in check.” He moved on down the room, towards a hatch in the far wall. “Come on, let’s see where this way leads.”

  They left the exercise room to find themselves in the galley. A long row of cooking appliances filled one wall. There were couches, tables and chairs and video screens all around. It looked very comfortable to Christopher. He sat down on one of the couches.

  “I like this place.” He said, setting his backpack down. “Do you think they have any hot chocolate?”

  Tremain chuckled as he headed to the opposite hatchway.

  “Just like a teenager, always thinking of food . . .” He cocked an eyebrow at his nephew. “Or girls!” He laughed as Christopher blushed, grabbed his backpack and followed.

  The new hatch led them to the crew quarters. Each one had a number, except for the one marked “Captain’s Quarters”. There was a lot of space between its hatch and the next, whereas the others were more evenly spaced. Christopher assumed that meant it was a larger room. Tremain marched down and looked at each one, counting off on his hands.

  “Twenty five cabins here, Christopher.” He rubbed his chin. “Do you think they had that many crew members? I wonder if they really needed that many.” He stopped in front of the Captain’s quarters.

  “Why wouldn’t they, Uncle?” he asked, “They were going to start a new colony, weren’t they? I’m surprised they only had twenty five.”

  Tremain looked sideways at Christopher.

  “I’ll show you why after we’re done here.” He activated the hatch, which slid into the wall, allowing them to enter the room.

  It was spartan in its furnishings, but functional. To their right was a door marked “Lavatory”, to their left was a small wardrobe. Moving further into the room was a bunk on the right and a desk opposite it. The desk was littered with papers, as if someone left in a rush. On the wall in front of the desk was a few small shelves, filled with books. All looked worn and well used. Tremain ran his hands over the spines, whispering the titles as he did so . . .

  “Our captain was a well-read man, Christopher.” His eyes moved to the right of the book shelves, where there was a deactivated screen. Below the screen, on the desk was a small keyboard and trackball. Next to the keyboard was a journal. “Ah,” Tremain read, opening it. “He was also a fan of longhand.” He opened to one of the last entries.

  “Captain’s Log. It’s been ten years since we left Earth. About two weeks ago, we encountered an asteroid field. We were able to avoid the worst, but at the speed we were going, we did hit something. Caused a breach in our Ion fuel tanks. What we had left vented into space. We can try creating more, but it’ll be a slow process. Our biggest hope is that our existing speed will get us to our destination in time. We’ll have to recalculate trajectories once we get closer to what we’re calling “New Earth”. That is, our descendants will need to. This has now definitely become a generation ship. At most, we’ve reached a quarter the speed of light. I hope we don’t encounter much else that will slow us down or we may never reach the planet. In the next few days, I will give the go ahead for anyone who wishes to enter the sleeping chambers to do so. The colonists down there will never know what happened. The new sleepers will need to fill them in once they arrive. The rest of us, myself included, will live part-time in the living quarters and part time in the botanical gardens. I think it’s my duty to stay in command. I need to set a good example.

  Most of the power in the ship will be reduced to support the gardens and life support and of course, the sleepers. Our course is set. I will monitor our progress periodically until I can’t any longer. Then I will put all systems on automatic.

  I’ve already programmed the computer to wake the highest ranking officer once we enter the new star system. He or she will be able to complete the mission.

  I hope we can keep training the children that will come. Keep some sort of continuity, but maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. No matter what, the colonists must get their chance.”

  Tremain sighed and Christopher noticed him swallowing hard, visibly trying to keep his emotions in check. He continued to read.

  “I can’t begin to say how disappointed I am. I had hoped to see New Earth with my own eyes.” Tremain sighed again, wiping his eyes. “This will be my last entry.”

  “Oh no.” Christopher whispered. Tremain had closed the book and was staring at the floor.

  “Just thinking about it is painful, Christopher.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “All that devotion to duty and here we are, generations later, and they’ve forgotten it all. They don’t even realize they’re on a ship.” He shook his head. “I feel so sorry for them all.” He shook himself, stood up and motioned to Christopher. “Come on, then, I think I know what happened.”

  Christopher furrowed his eyebrows.

  “What?” He couldn’t think straight. All he could do was think about how hopeless the Captain must have felt at that moment.

  “Well, we couldn’t have caused the accident,” he rubbed the back of his neck and then pulled his hand forward through his hair. “At least, I don’t think so, but anything is possible.” He opened the hatch and entered the corridor. “No, I think what happened is our pulse may have pushed the Mayflower off course. Without the ion drive firing to correct it, they would have missed New Earth.” He nodded. “Yes, that must be it.”

  They walked to a small hatchway which opened to a ladder. Tremain started climbing.

  “We need to get to the bridge to know for sure.”

  The hub was still rotating as they exited the small corridor. Tremain took one look left, then right, then headed off to his left
. The corridor looked the same either way, so Christopher, shrugging, followed his Uncle. Tremain reached a hatchway at the end of the corridor and activated it.

  The Bridge was a small room with four jump seats in a semi-circle around a set of big windows in the nose of the craft.

  Tremain stared out at the vista in front of him, his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised. Christopher looked at his uncle, then out the ports. He gasped. Tremain nodded slowly.

  “I think I see why they never made it to New Earth.” He gulped loudly. “We’re heading into the sun!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  They stared at the screen in disbelief. The star loomed large in the windows. Christopher had a fleeting thought that the light should have been brighter, they should have been blinded, being so close. Tremain took a deep, ragged breath.

  “It’s so beautiful, in its own way.” He shook himself, cleared his throat and looked around the small bridge. “The system obviously has adjusted the glass to compensate for the star’s emissions,” He pulled himself over to a chair and sat down, strapping himself in. “Or it would be quite uncomfortable in here.” Christopher pulled himself to another chair and strapped in.

  “What are we going to do?” he looked at the unfamiliar controls in front of him. He had no idea if he should push any of the buttons.

  “We need to know how much time we have before we can’t break out of the star’s gravitational pull.”

  Tremain started as the lights on the control board in front of him lit up. A computerized voice came from a speaker in the center of the ceiling.

  “Time to point of no return . . . two hours.” Tremain unstrapped himself from the jumper seat and headed for the hatch.

  “AH, that was convenient. Two hours . . . we still have time.”

  “Time for what?” Christopher struggled with his straps, but soon was free and followed his uncle, who was quickly pulling himself through the hatch door. “What is the point of no return?”

  “The point to where we can’t pull away from the gravity well. We need to get the engine working!” He yelled back. “That’s the only way we’re going to escape this star!”

  Using quick pulls on the rails, they shot down the corridor, through the spinning hub and past it. As they floated through, Tremain shot his arms and legs out, slowing himself with the rail. He looked around, mouth agape. Christopher, about to ram into his uncle, stopped himself quickly. Following his uncle’s gaze, he let out a gasp.

  “Wow.”

  Arrayed around them were cylinders. Each one had a small square of glass inset in one end. Pulling himself over to one of them, Christopher rubbed at the condensation on it to reveal a face. He jumped, shooting across the corridor to hit the cylinder behind him. Tremain pulled himself over to the clear glass and looked intently at it for a moment, then looked around him.

  “We’ve found the colonists.” There were rows and rows of these cylinders, stacked up and around them. The sight was very disorientating. Christopher found he had to stare down at the corridor floor in order to keep from getting dizzy. He pulled himself down to the end, where there was another hatch. Tremain, still staring at the sleeping colonists, was lost in his own thoughts. “I knew they were here, of course, but the sight of all these sleeping people is more overwhelming than I imagined.”

  “Uncle . . . two hours?”

  Tremain, pulling himself out of his reverie, fumbled his way over to a rail and pulled his way to the hatch.

  “You’re right, Christopher. I think we’ll find engineering through here.”

  They entered a small room that had a simple panel in front of a glass wall with doors on either side of the panel. Inside the glass room, Christopher saw an amazing sight. There were rows of tubing, tanks and circuitry leading to the back wall, where, Christopher assumed, was the actual engine. Two of the tanks were against the wall on the right side, one of which looked dented and worse for wear. Tremain, noticing it too, pointed to it.

  “I think I know which ion fuel tank was ruptured.” He floated to the console and powered it up. “Those drives used Xenon gas as a fuel source.” He said as he familiarized himself with the panel. “Very useful in medical devices, old photography flashes, etc.” He twirled his hand as he spoke, “Nonflammable, which was a plus, so perfectly suited for ion propulsion.” He flicked a few switches. “I’ve closed off the empty tank,” He glared at it through the glass, “poor design that was, I think.”

  Christopher looked from the tank to his uncle. All he could picture was the sleeping colonists blissfully unaware of the fiery fate that lay ahead of them. He could feel his shoulders tightening just thinking about it.

  “Can we get it going again?” Tremain turned around and looked at his nephew.

  “Yes, Christopher, I think I can, but I’m not sure how much thrust we can generate in such a short time.” He turned back to the console. “That being said, the Captain wrote something about thrusters in his log.” He looked up into the room. “That implies chemical engines as well. I’m trying to find those tanks, so I can see where we are fuel-wise on those.”

  “Do you know how to work this spaceship, then?”

  Tremain looked sideways at his nephew, a small smile on his face.

  “Not really. This isn’t my specialty, now is it?” He gave a humorless grunt and studied the panel in front of him. “I can only hope that it makes some sort of sense.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Otherwise, we’re fried.” He nodded once, then looked back into the glassed room. There were lights blinking on and off on the left wall. “There, I think I’ve just found where the chemical fuel is.” He squinted at the readings on the panel. “And there’s a whole lot of it, too.” He pushed away from the panel and headed for the hatch. “Now we go back to the bridge and get this thing back on course.”

  They pulled themselves back through the cryogenic tanks. Christopher passed one that began hissing and steaming as he came alongside it. Not stopping to figure out why, he followed his uncle.

  They shot down the corridor, through the hub, barely noticing the view out the windows and the solar panels glowing as they absorbed all the energy they could from the star. The bridge was fully active when they entered. Tremain strapped himself into one of the front jumper seats, Christopher did the same next to him. With a theatrical crack of his knuckles, Tremain wiggled his fingers and then studied the controls in front of him.

  “Uncle, what are you waiting for?” Christopher’s breath came quicker and his hands were trembling. The sight of the star once again made him nervous. He tried to slow his breathing and calm himself, but one more glance at the star and he gave up.

  “I’m finding the correct controls.” He pushed a few buttons. “Ah, yes. I think that’s it.” He entered in a few more commands, then looked up at the star. “It was easier than I thought it would be. I’ve programmed it to fire a burst of the chemical thrusters along with the ion drive. It’ll work with the set course to get us back on track.” He glanced at the controls and back up again. “Should be any moment now.”

  They stared at the star as it loomed large.

  Nothing happened.

  Christopher felt his fingernails digging into his palms.

  A trickle of sweat ran down Tremain’s forehead. He resisted the urge to wipe at it.

  Still nothing happened.

  Tremain coughed, making Christopher jump.

  Nothing happened.

  It began as a slight shudder they felt through the jumper seats.

  Tremain cocked his head, then looked down at the controls, sighing with relief.

  “It’s working, Christopher. It’s working.” He pointed at the dial in front of him. “The thrusters are firing. So is the ion drive.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “I only hope we’ve done it in time.”

  Christopher looked from the dial to his uncle. He felt . . . funny, as if he was suddenly not all there. He looked at his hands, fingers spread.

  He could see throug
h them!

  He gave a little shout of alarm.

  “Uncle! I’m disappearing!”

  Tremain’s eyes shot wide as he looked to Christopher.

  “Oh no! Christopher, stay with me!”

  The shuddering increased in strength, the thrusters doing their job in pushing the huge ship along. Tremain could detect a little more space to the right of the star, but he couldn’t be sure. He called out into the air.

  “Computer! Show the programmed course!” Over the star appeared a blue line. It shot off away from them to the right. To the left of the blue line was a red one, directly in front of them. Little by little, the two lines were moving closer together. Christopher held his breath as he watched. Tremain, noticing that he too was disappearing, kept his gaze firmly on the course lines.

  They jumped as a panel behind them blew out spectacularly, smoke streaming from it.

  “Damage to computer storage banks.” Came the computerized voice. “Storage at 90%.”

  “That explains a few things, doesn’t it?” Tremain said dryly.

  “Explains what?” Christopher asked.

  “There is missing data from the computer banks in our time.” Tremain held on as the shuddering intensified. “Now we know why.”

  “What kind of data?” Christopher asked as he was jostled in his seat.

  “I guess I’ll never know.” Tremain answered wistfully. “I had hoped to take a look once we were safe.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the two lines on the screen drew closer together. Tremain glanced at the fuel dials. There was plenty of fuel for the task. They were going to make it.

  They had to make it.

  He felt another droplet of sweat make its way down his face.

  How much time passed, they couldn’t tell. Their attention was completely focused on the two course lines. They were now almost the same line. Just a little bit more.

  “Course corrected.” The speaker hissed.

  Christopher let his breath out in a loud huff and sank into the jumper seat. He flexed his now solid fingers in front of him. Tremain also relaxed and sank into the seat.