Going Back Cold

by Kelley Rose Waller

  “To see my robot.”

  “Yeah! Robots!” Sebbie cheered. “Ima drive it.”

  “Well, this one doesn’t drive.”

  “Did it finish loading the capsule?” Dámaris asked.

  Lucas was surprised at how much she knew of the project. “Sure did. I already took the capsule in the heating control unit down to Dr. Riddhi for her sign-off, so now Trevor has it for his final once-over before your mom and Jane begin the transfer process to put it in the launch bay.”

  “Dat’s cool!” Seb yelled as he ran into the lab, seeing the robot. Lucas had drawn a face on colored sticky notes and pasted them to the front. Government science robots were very utilitarian, so it didn’t really have a ‘head.’ He’d done his best to make it seem friendly by putting a baseball cap on top, and it was an immediate hit.

  He gave the kids each a turn punching the buttons to have the robot raise and lower its arms, rotate, and rise up. Sebbie went first, hitting the buttons so quickly that after Lucas stopped him, the robot proceeded through the command sequence he’d entered for another 20 seconds.

  “MILO, you can dance!” Sebastian said, running over and mimicking the final few motions.

  “Command not recognized,” MILO replied through the wall panel.

  That gave Lucas an idea. “MILO, please silence this room’s comm panel and initiate your communication through the lab’s articulated robot.”

  “Confirmed,” MILO’s familiar voice replied through the robot.

  The kids cheered.

  “Hey, how about this?” Lucas said, running a quick internet search. In no time, MILO’s voice in the robot was reciting an entire scene from Sebbie’s favorite movie.

  “Ooh! This is Wizard of Oz!” Sebastian said, clapping.

  “Hey MILO, record this!” Lucas instructed.

  The sticky note face completed the hilarious ensemble, and they all quoted along as MILO concluded, “I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!”

  Dám searched for other movie scenes and famous quotes. By the time MILO had put out one gripping arm and droned, “E.T. phone home,” the three of them were laughing so hard that Sebbie had to run straight to the bathroom.

  Cheyenne appeared looking confused. “What’s going on in here? I got a notification that a security recording was initiated.”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry!” Lucas said, standing up. “I didn’t know it would be like an alert or something. We were just being silly, and I asked MILO to record the moment so I could show Jane later. Sorry!”

  “Well, now I have to see it,” Cheyenne said, gesturing to the screen.

  Dámaris smiled impishly as she tapped a few controls and said, “MILO?”

  The robot whirled around, revealing its sticky note face under the cap, and MILO’s voice replied from inside it, “Go ahead, make my day.”

  Cheyenne doubled over in surprised laughter. Dámaris tapped a few more buttons, and he continued, “Here’s looking at you, kid.” Cheyenne hooted in delight as the arm reached up and tipped the brim of the hat.

  Candace heard the ruckus and appeared in the doorway.

  “What did I miss?” she asked.

  “Say 'hello' to my little friend,” MILO replied.

  A few minutes later, Cheyenne was laughing herself to tears. The base should have been filled with serious faces on the team’s most important day of the season, but they were in a competition now to guess the movies MILO was quoting.

  “Why are you wearing that stupid bunny suit?” MILO quoted.

  “Donnie Darko!” Lucas shouted a split second before everyone else.

  “Nobody puts baby in a corner,” the robot deadpanned.

  “Dirty Dancing!” Cheyenne and Candace hollered at the same time.

  “Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads.”

  “Back to the Future!” Jane called.

  Ana was forced to dial down the revelry when she got a signal that the Chapmans were finished with the set-up and leaving the catch site.

  “I'll be back,” was Dám's last quote selection as she reluctantly handed MILO's controls back to Lucas.

  “Terminator,” Lucas whispered, and she smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

  “Hal says they’re loading up,” Ana announced. “After take-off, they’ll have a 12-minute flight to the all-clear zone. Everybody to the console room. We’re going to do some science-y magic.”

  “Can we come?” Sebbie asked, still energetic from their revelry.

  Jane replied, “Ok by me.”

  Sebbie turned a winning smile on his father and teacher, who were won over easily in the group’s current good mood.

  “So,” Jane asked a few minutes as everyone took their seats in the console room, “When are we calling Colonel Edwards?”

  “I’m supposed to connect at T-minus five minutes,” Cheyenne replied.

  “So in like fifteen minutes,” Ana said, looking at the countdown on the main display.

  “Yeah.”

  “You couldn’t have just said that?”

  “Hey, some of us are trying to sound science-y,” Cheyenne said with a wink.

  A hush fell over the room as Jane and Ana quadruple checked their pre-launch sequences. Minutes ticked by. While the capsule was now in the temperature-controlled launch bay, they could still tinker with the software settings as needed.

  Team members filed in and sat down to watch. Without looking up from her screen, Cheyenne paged all of Semotus. “We’re at T-minus nine minutes. Hal’s buckling down at the safe zone with the Chapmans. If you want to watch with the group, better get in here.”

  Temperature, wind speed, and wind direction were all changing by the second along their flight path. With a jump as fast as they anticipated this one to be, a one-second ‘all-clear’ window was significantly more than they needed. Ana was on a supposedly ‘live’ chat with six meteorologists, but still looked worried.

  “Next time, we’re bringing a meteorologist in person,” Ana mumbled. “I need a window of, what, three-thousandths of a second? But the freaking comm system has a full second lag. Anybody got a time machine so I can make this thing work?”

  Lucas looked over at Jane, but she was too distracted by nerves to be either comforted or patronized.

  “Let’s call Edwards,” she said, putting her hands behind her head in a gesture that indicated finality as well as concession.

  “I guess I’m ready, too,” Ana responded. Cheyenne initiated the call. While the screen rolled the connecting icon, Riddhi walked in. She was carrying a tray of coffees. “Who’s thirsty?”

  “I can’t afford another pit stop,” Jane said, frustrated when she heard how unsteady her voice sounded. Jesus, I’m so nervous, she prayed. Please be with me.

  Trevor arrived and hesitated, seeing that the only free seat was beside Candace, across from the children. He tried to hide his notice and opted to stand. He crossed and uncrossed his arms until Riddhi handed him a coffee and patted his arm.

  “If it blows up, no one’s going to blame you,” she offered.

  Trevor flipped her off when she wasn't looking. Fortunately, the screen connected to Edwards, drawing group’s attention away from him.

  The Colonel wasn’t seated at his desk, but in a conference room with three other men around him. Candace’s heart sank as she saw her father was one of them.

  “Hello, Dr. Whyse, Cheyenne, everyone. Welcome to Split Horizon’s big day,” Edwards began.

  “Thank you, sir. We’re excited,” Jane said as everyone nodded.

  “How are we looking?” he asked.

  “On schedule,” she replied. “Just waiting for the team who set up the catch to confirm they are at a safe distance.”

  “Some of my colleagues are here for observation,” he said, introducing each representative until he ended with, “and here's Dr. Alexander Hartwell, the Acting Administrator of NASA.”

  Each of the uniformed leaders nodded, while the Split Horizon team tried t
o look busy. Jane fought the urge to look over her shoulder at Candace and prayed that Sebbie wouldn’t embarrass them.

  “So we’re going for half of light speed, right?” one of the NASA representatives asked.

  “Yes, sir, C over 2,” Jane replied.

  “So that’ll be one hell of a sonic boom, right?” the general seated beside Colonel Edwards asked with an eager expression.

  “Yes, but the sonic boom won’t even travel from the launch side of the base to where we’re seated by the time the capsule has arrived at the catch,” Jane said.

  “My word, that’s fast!” Colonel Edwards said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Is there a sonic boom equivalent for light?” another colonel asked.

  “Well, sort of,” Jane said. “Cherenkov radiation is theorized as a—”

  “Dome, this is Albatross, we’re at the all clear,” Hal’s voice interrupted. Everyone started to murmur. Jane decided not to finish her sentence; instead, she looked at Ana and raised her eyebrows.

  “Initiate the launch sequence, Dr. Whyse?” Ana asked.

  Jane looked at the Colonel on the monitor, who waved his hand for her to take the lead.

  “Initiate the launch sequence,” Jane confirmed.

  As Ana complied, the monitors displaying views of the launch tube began registering activity. First, blinking lights, then the temperature started to descend a hundredth of a degree at a time in prep for the final, sudden drop.

  MILO showed a countdown on the screen.

  “Two minutes,” Ana announced, nodding her head at their progress. The orange pipes groaned as they made adjustments in the most minute increments, altering the angle to keep the course true based on so-called real time final weather data.

  Candace was just thinking how pleased she was that her seat wasn’t within their camera’s view when Sebbie started to fall off his chair. Instinctively, she dove over the table, grabbing his arms at the last moment before he hit the floor.

  “Accident!” the little boy said sheepishly as everyone in the room lurched around to look at them. Lucas and Jane, both red-faced, cautioned their son to be more careful. Lucas pushed the chair further under the table this time.

  “Oh, good, there you are, Candace,” Alexander Hartwell said over the comm system as the nurse tried to slink back out of the camera’s view unnoticed. “How goes the thesis work?”

  “Um, ok, thanks, I'll email you later,” she said, straightening her hair and shirt.

  Facepalm, she added in her mind.

  Patting Sebbie’s hand affectionately, Candace wanted to disappear. In the commotion, Trevor had settled into her seat, leaving the only empty chair within the top corner view of the camera.

  Guess I shouldn’t pick my nose, she thought as she lowered herself into it.

  As the seconds ticked, she found her fidgety appearance distracting and couldn’t look away from her own image, so she made soft small talk with Dámaris.

  “Albatross, please confirm you are receiving visual,” Cheyenne said into her headset. One of the smaller screens filled with a picture of Bonnie and Rich huddled together in the helicopter.

  “Confirmed,” Rich replied. “Sending and receiving.”

  “Ok, I’m bringing up the feeds from the catch,” Cheyenne said. She pushed the feed of Edwards and his crew in the States to a smaller screen, replacing it with three angles of the catch: views from the north, west, and suspended directly above it on a tall boom.

  “The catch looks so small out there,” Lucas said, observing the vast landscape in the background.

  “Well, we see it,” Edwards confirmed. “Tech says there’s over a second delay on the video feed, so nobody spoil the ending for me.” The suits with him chuckled.

  “Let’s do this,” he continued. “Impress me, folks.”

  Jane inhaled deeply. “Last call to abort Split Horizon’s alpha test. Anyone?”

  No one replied, but Lucas discreetly slipped his hand around her back. She responded by reaching under the table and placing her free hand on his knee.

  MILO's countdown showed everything was ready.

  “Ana, launch at your recommendation,” Jane said.

  Ana confirmed the launch, giving MILO final control on the timing as he churned enormous algorithms of wind gust predictability.

  “It’s live. Wait for the bang in 4… 3… 2… 1…”

  Chapter 17

  Considering the hype, their moment of triumph was rather underwhelming. There was a loud bang and shudder, despite the base’s built-in protection for the sonic boom. Data began streaming from all their sensors: speed, flight time, distance, temperature, radiation levels, and more. Jane’s monitor lit up with dozens of little green checkmarks.

  The team conferenced in on the screens actually began cheering first. Everyone in Antarctica was too tense, waiting for something to go wrong. When they didn’t hear anything, none of them quite registered the success.

  “Hooah!” Colonel Edwards yelled. “Split Horizon for the win!”

  The group in the console room gradually came to life, first with gasps and sighs of relief that rapidly turned into jostling, cheering, hugging, and back slaps. Bonnie, Rich, and Hal hooted and hollered from their all-clear location near the catch.

  Lucas snatched Jane out of the chair, whirling her around with his face buried in her neck. He mumbled a short prayer of overwhelmed thanks as Jane drummed her fists against his back.

  “We did it!” he whispered. Sebastian was thrilled at the sudden happy activity after several tense minutes. He grabbed Dámaris’ hand and began to skip.

  Cheyenne yelled into the headset, “What do you see, Hal? You guys ok?”

  “All clear here. No dead penguins! You did it, folks!” he yelled back.

  After a few minutes of celebration, Bonnie's image on the screen asked, “When are we clear to go back in to the catch?”

  “Right now!” Jane replied. “Go collect the fastest piece of technology mankind has ever created!”

  Overwhelmed with relief and pride, Jane collapsed into the chair, pulling Sebastian into her lap and sighing quietly into the back of his head.

  “MILO, what was the final speed?” Trevor asked. The response was garbled in the chaos of the room.

  “What did he say?” Trevor asked Jane.

  “Top speed… just over 160 million meters per second!” Jane replied, pointing to the monitor where the data was displayed.

  “We did it; that’s half the speed of light,” he replied, clenching his fist triumphantly.

  “And you caught the thing!” Jane said, shaking the engineer's shoulders affectionately. “First try, too. The launch itself isn’t as important as the decel and safe landing.”

  Cheyenne called the team back to order and asked the speaker in New York who'd been drowned out to repeat his question.

  “I said, I heard the speed, but give it to them in miles per hour,” Candace’s father asked.

  “Hmm…” Jane said, clicking a few buttons. “Roughly, 360 million miles per hour.”

  “Son of a...” another man said, trailing off as his jaw dropped. The eyes around the wooden table gleamed, even through the camera.

  “Almost five times faster than even our prototype,” she added.

  Jane addressed a few more queries from those less familiar with the project, but mostly received high praise. When all their immediate questions were answered, Colonel Edwards concluded.

  “Well, we’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Can’t wait to shake each of your hands when you’re stateside next week. Good work, Split Horizon.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jane said. “We’ll send a full report tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be looking for it,” he said, “’Cause I’m gonna go collect a bunch of checks to make sure you all have everything you need to make this thing really sing. If you think a full-service day spa will help you advance this technology next season, I swear you’ll get it.”

  “Probably not t
hat, but we’ll start a Christmas list,” Cheyenne answered.

  “Semotus has been a great investment,” Colonel Edwards added. “Thank you.”

  As he disconnected the call, he added to his companions, “Sheesh, I may even see men on Mars in my lifetime. That means my wife owes me $100.”

  Chapter 18

  That evening, Lucas wandered around his lab until he felt settled enough to get ready for bed. He tapped buttons on his tablet, verifying what he'd need to pack and what could winter at Semotus.

  A successful test! he prayed. God, show us what you have for us next...

  Rich stuck his head in. “Dr. Whyse?”

  “Yes, Rich?” Lucas fought the urge to remind this gentleman for the thousandth time that he preferred his first name.

  “Congratulations on today,” Rich began.

  “Hey, to you, too,” Lucas said. “To everyone really.”

  “Indeed. Now, what's your plan for next year?” Rich asked.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “Next season,” he said. “What's your plan?”

  Lucas felt his mouth go dry. He tried to quickly calculate how old their new child would be in November. Feeling guilty that he hadn't really considered how this new child might figure into— or change— their future plans for Split Horizon, he deflected.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” Rich said. “I've been offered a leadership position on another research team, Australia-based, and I'm trying to decide what to do.”

  “Oh, wow, congratulations, Rich,” Lucas said, extending his arm for a handshake. “What does Bonnie think?”

  “Well, you know, we aren't like you and Jane.”

  “You haven't told her?” Lucas asked.

  “No, I told her. She just didn't really care much.”

  Lucas paused a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry, Rich.”

  “I'm not here for your sympathy,” Rich replied, bristling. “I was asking your professional opinion on where this project is heading.”

  “Right, of course,” Lucas said, clearing his throat. “Well, today was promising, and with added personnel and funding next year, I'm sure Split Horizon will only grow. Although, we obviously know that there's no guarantee of success with the whole plan just because we've gotten part way successfully. We’re only half magic; the rest is real science.”