Timemaster

by Robert L. Forward

  "A normal-matter inner shell coated with an electrostatically levitated skin of negmatter," said Hiroshi. "Crack the pod open around the middle, stretch out inside, seal it up again, adjust the amount of negmatter until the net mass is zero, and you're ready to go. As soon as the acceleration at both ends of the warpgate is zero and the gate through the Silverhair has been expanded until it is large enough to pass the pod, the electromagnetic launcher charges up and fires you through the warpgate, to be caught by the electromagnetic catcher on the other side. All done automatically, without involving humans and all their potential error sources. Even if there is an error and the pod brushes the inside of the tunnel, the Silverhair is not hurt, since it only contacts negative matter."

  "Still have to stop the ship before you can transfer, I notice," said Randy.

  "Yes, I'm sorry to say, Mr. Hunter," Hiroshi said. "Because of the negative matter surrounding the transfer pods we transfer zero net mass through the Silverhair. Since we transfer no mass, we automatically conserve energy and momentum during the transfer, even though the Silverhairs at the two ends of the warpgate are traveling at different velocities. Because energy and momentum are conserved, there is no internal strain on the Silverhair when the pod transfer takes place, and the warpgate doesn't collapse. Unfortunately, we've been unable to find a way to dilate a warpgate while it's under acceleration. Steve is working on it, though."

  "Good enough for now," said Randy. "Let's go back to the station so you can give me a virtual walk-through of my space mansion."

  RANDY was lightly strapped to a large couch in the center of the cramped control deck of Spacemaster. He was wearing a virtual helmet and arm-length virtual gauntlets. In front of him the helmet produced an image of a control panel, and although there was nothing between the fingers of his right hand, they felt as if they were holding the metallic sphere of a joyball controller. Right now, the center of the screen was filled with an image of Rose. She was smiling pleasantly.

  "It won't be long this time," said Randy. "In nine months I'll be up to speed and you can join me."

  "Nine months is still a long time. I wish I could be with you now." Rose smiled wistfully.

  "Normally I'd love to have you next to me in a waterbed," said Randy. "But at three gees it wouldn't be any fun. Bye now. See you soon."

  "Good-bye," said Rose. Her image blanked out and was replaced by that of an elderly, bearded Russian man, the persona of the Spacemaster computer.

  "Shall I initiate the acceleration program?" spoke the icon in Russian.

  "Why should I let you have all the fun, Konstantin?" replied Randy, also in Russian. "I paid for this ship, so I get to drive it."

  Randy's virtual left arm moved up to press the drive-control icon on the virtual screen. The icon grew in size and moved to the center of the screen as the icon of Konstantin shrank into the upper left corner. The drive icon was in the cylindrical shape of Spacemaster, centered in a large three-dimensional cage of concentric spheres. Each sphere represented two light-years of distance. There were eleven white dots—star systems—scattered around the cage, most of them between the fifth and sixth sphere. A faint green line ran from the ship icon to one of the stars—his destination, Epsilon Eridani.

  Nearly along that line was a short red arrow, indicating Spacemaster's present velocity due to its orbital motion about the Earth and Earth's orbit around the Sun. The launch time had been picked to take advantage of this small start toward Spacemaster's ultimate relativistic speed.

  Randy rotated the imaginary joyball with his virtual glove until the icon of Spacemaster was lined up with the green line that was his desired path. He pulled up on the joyball and his body started to sink into the waterbed as a small yellow acceleration arrow grew from the nose of the icon to point along the green line. In the head of the yellow arrow was a number, indicating the acceleration level in meters per second squared. Randy pulled the imaginary joyball upward until the number read 29.4—three gees. Breathing heavily under the strain, Randy effortlessly raised his virtual left arm to the screen to push the drive icon back to the edge of the screen.

  The icon of Konstantin grew and moved to the center of the screen.

  "You were not quite correct in your choice of word for 'drive' in your last sentence," said Konstantin in English. "That is more properly used when you are moving herds of animals, not piloting vehicles. Would you like a lesson in colloquial Russian?"

  "Horosho," Randy replied. "Anything to pass the time."

  He breathed heavily again as he readjusted his body on the waterbed. He was determined to last the four hours until his one-hour lunch break, when he would cut the acceleration level back to one gee. At least he wouldn't have to cope with the toilet in zero-gee.

  AFTER nearly nine months at three gees, Randy was eagerly awaiting his release from his near imprisonment on the high-gee waterbed. The red velocity arrow on the drive icon was now pointed directly along the green line, and the number inside the arrowhead read 0.979. When it switched to 0.980, Randy pushed down on the joyball in his virtual glove until the acceleration arrow read 9.8—one gee. The ship would now maintain a comfortable one-gee acceleration, slowly increasing its velocity from 98 percent of the speed of light to 99 percent in the next seven months until turnover.

  "All yours, Konstantin," said Randy to the icon in the virtual screen. "Keep it at one gee and signal my cuff-comp if there are any problems."

  "I will do as you direct," replied Konstantin in Russian.

  Randy took off his virtual helmet and gloves and, climbing lightly out of the acceleration couch, heaved a sigh of relief.

  "Didit!" he called. The door to a closet slid open. Inside was the rotund figure of an android butler modeled after Randy's human butler, James. Didit stepped forward out of the closet.

  "Yes, Master Hunter?" queried the butler.

  "It's time to live like a civilized being once again," said Randy. "Unfold the mansion."

  "I shall so inform the engineering robots," Didit said. Almost instantly, Randy could feel vibrations coming through the metal deck as the floors below started to expand from their collapsed shape.

  "Now that I'm off work for a while, I should like a beer with lunch," said Randy, walking to the elevator. Didit followed him into the elevator and pressed the button for the main floor.

  "I'm afraid your first lunch will be somewhat plain, sir," said Didit. "It will be a few hours before the full kitchen is unfolded and operational. I was planning a cold chicken sandwich with a glass of chardonnay."

  "The cold chicken sounds fine," said Randy. "But I'd really prefer a beer—Anchor Steam Beer if you have it."

  "Very well, sir," said Didit as the elevator arrived at the main floor. Didit held the door open with one hand. "I have it stored in one of the coolers in the basement. I will return with it shortly."

  Randy stepped out into organized pandemonium as the elevator door shut behind him. To his right was the living room area with a fireplace in the far wall. On one side of the fireplace was a large view-window showing the woods outside his mansion back in the Princeton Enclave. There was a winter snowstorm in progress, and the wind could be heard whistling outside the simulated windowpane.

  The flashing blue manipulators of Gidget were unfolding the back of his recliner chair from where it had been packed between the armrests. The seat cushion was on the floor next to the seat cushions from the already unfolded sofa, while the magazine table and the other tables were still in a folded stack next to the liquor cabinet. On the far wall, easily visible from both the sofa and the recliner chair, was a viewscreen that nearly covered the entire wall from floor to ceiling. The grandfather clock on the other side of the fireplace was already assembled, and its pendulum was ticking away the seconds in the constant one-gee acceleration.

  To his left was the dining room area, separated from the living room by floor-to-ceiling solid-oak folding panels on an overhead track. When fully extended, they formed a wall that separat
ed the living room from the dining room, and one panel had a door that allowed passage between the two rooms. With the oak doors folded back into the wall, the fireplace could provide heat to both rooms.

  In the dining room, Gadget was putting the legs on the large mahogany banquet table that could easily seat twelve people, while Godget was removing the form-fitting packing around the dishes in a replica of a Chippendale china cupboard. The dining room also had a large view-window showing another snowy view from his home.

  Randy turned and made his way around the central elevator column with its circular staircase leading to the bedrooms above. The kitchen was unfolded, but nothing had been unpacked yet. The view-window over the sink was already on. It was duplicating the scene outside the real kitchen window in his Princeton Enclave mansion. It was snowing there, too. From the living room came the sound of the grandfather clock striking the quarter-hour.

  Randy walked into his study, which took up one-fourth of the main floor. There was a corner of it reserved for Rose and her painting, with a large view-window giving a northern exposure for proper lighting. This view-window was apparently perpetually set on some ideal day for best lighting. Instead of showing a snowstorm, it looked like spring outside, and birds could be heard in the bushes.

  The study was obviously the first thing that the robots had unpacked, for everything was out and in its proper place. To the right side of his desk was a view-window of the same size and in the same position as the real window in his study at his mansion in the Princeton Enclave. The view-window was in phase with the others; it was snowing out this window too. To the left side of his desk, in a deliberate attempt to counteract the illusion that he was living on Earth, there was a large, thick glass porthole in a conical depression in the half-meter-thick metal double hull of Spacemaster. The porthole looked out on the reality that surrounded the cozy, Earth-like interior on all sides—a star-studded black vacuum.

  Didit appeared at the doorway. "Lunch will be ready in ten minutes, Master Hunter. Would you like to freshen up? I have your clothes laid out in the master bedroom."

  Randy had been planning on eating in his jumpsuit, but now thought better of it.

  "Since it's only a cold chicken sandwich and a beer, it can wait a while," said Randy. "I'm going to take a long hot shower first."

  "Very good, sir," said Didit. "Because of the inclement weather, I added a bowl of hot clam chowder to the menu, but I can put the saucepan on simmer while you shower."

  Randy looked at the snowy scene outside his study. "Sounds like a great lunch," he said. "Instead of having it in the dining room, how about setting it up on a small table next to the fireplace in the living room?"

  "Excellent suggestion, sir," said Didit, turning to leave. Randy followed him to the door and, whistling cheerfully, stepped lightly up the circular staircase to the bedrooms above.

  THE MASTER of Spacemaster paused on his slow descent back down the circular staircase. He was clean and warm from the hot shower and wearing his comfortable charcoal-grey flannel slacks and a charcoal-grey, V-neck cashmere sweater over a light-blue cotton turtleneck. A matching light-blue hair ribbon held back his hair while a cluster of whitish-blue star-sapphire earrings climbed up to his left ear.

  Randy had paused because he had smelled something strange, yet distantly familiar, coming from the living room. It wasn't the aroma from the bowl of chowder steaming on the small table set in front of his chair—he had enjoyed many bowls of chowder during his one-gee meal breaks on the long trip out. Then he recognized the smell. It was burning wood—normally a smell that would cause serious concern on any ordinary spacecraft, but not on Spacemaster.

  Didit had placed a real pine log on top of the artificial logs in the gas fireplace. Randy smiled, walked down the rest of the circular staircase, strolled into the living room, and with a poker gave the log a couple of pokes to make it sizzle and send the sparks flying up the chimney. Then, with a broad smile and a contented sigh, he sank into his comfortable overstuffed chair and took a sip of hot clam chowder while the cold wind whistled outside the view-window.

  "IT'S JUST a little scary," Rose said over the laser video link, her wide eyes looking even wider in the fishbowl helmet.

  "Come on," coaxed Randy. "There's nothing to it. You've podded through a warpgate before in the practice sessions, and Hiroshi is right there to make sure everything goes perfectly."

  "But the practice sessions were only a few kilometers," said Rose. "And this is almost one and a half light-years."

  "Only on the outside," said Randy. "On the inside you are just a few meters away. Now get in that pod and let Hiroshi shoot you through. I'll be waiting here to catch you and help you out."

  "OK ..." Rose turned away from the camera. Randy, floating in free-fall, watched in the video monitor as Hiroshi helped the wasp-waisted figure in the tightsuit get into the transfer pod. Rose placed her feet in the foot stirrups at one end and reached up to grab the handholds at the other end. Hiroshi checked her position, then touched a button on a control panel. The two halves of the pod came together around her and silvery liquid negmatter flowed out of a storage container to cover the outside of the pod.

  "You must clear this area before transfer can occur," said a warning voice in Randy's helmet. He looked around and suddenly realized that he was standing in front of the electromagnetic launcher, right in the path of Rose's incoming pod. Pulling on his handhold, he quickly moved himself out of the way. The laser-beam-filled hole through the Silverhair was dilated almost as much as it could be at this differential velocity. It wasn't easy for the Silverhair, as it frequently let them know.

  it complained.

  There was a warning buzz, a flash of silver coming through the warpmouth, and suddenly the transfer pod was in its cradle on Spacemaster. The laser beam flashed off and the Silverhair relaxed.

 

  Randy drained the negmatter off into storage and cracked open the pod. Rose was stretched out inside, eyes tightly shut. Randy, feet in wall stirrups, reached up to grab her around her waist. He gave her a couple of squeezes.

  "Either Hiroshi is getting fresh or that's Randy," Rose mumbled through the suit links. She opened her eyes, saw Randy, and then let go of her grip so he could pull her free. They hugged, enjoying the feel of each other's nearly naked bodies through the tightsuits.

  said the Silverhair.

  "I'll dance with you," said Randy. "You were a good Silverhair to hold open that long."

  Randy took Rose over to the vacuum lock. Godget, yellow manipulators busy, was cycling the door. "Why don't you go through," he said, giving her a pat on the rear. "Gidget will help you out of your tightsuit and Didit will show you where your clothes are stored in the suit room. I'll be there as soon as I dance the 'Minute Waltz' with the Silverhair. It'll take me a few minutes since my jetpack is too slow to allow me to rush through it in just one minute."

  "IT'S LOVELY, Randy," Rose said as he showed her around their mansion in space. "It's even better than the virtual simulators." She walked over to the kitchen cupboards and opened a few drawers and doors. "And everything is in the same place as at home!" she squealed in delight. The sun was shining in the view-window over the sink and the hum of an android grounds-keeper operating the snowplow could be heard from the driveway.

  "This is the way upstairs," said Randy. "I'm afraid we couldn't fit in a grand suitcase. But you can either take the elevator or climb the circular stairway around it." The elevator was at the main floor and the door was open, so they took it up to the second floor. The door opened onto a circular hallway. Arm in arm, Randy led Rose around the corridor, pointing out doorways as they passed.

  "This is the first bedroom, for either a kid or a guest; then a bathroom; a second bedroom; another bath; a third bedroom ..." He opened the door. "This one even has a crib in one corner in case we have a wee visitor." He closed the door and went on. "Next is the master bath, and finally"—he paused with his ha
nd on the doorknob to the last door—"let me show you my latest crib—no bars on this one—and three meters in diameter ..."

  "DON'T SLURP your soup, Junior," said Rose.

  "Aw, Mom," Junior whined. "How'm I gonna eat it?"

  "Quietly," said Randy.

  "You slurp sometimes, Dad," Rosey said sanctimoniously. "And I never do."

  "Children!" said Rose to the two images in the viewscreens sitting across the dining room table. She sometimes wondered if these Sunday afternoon videolink suppers together were worth the effort.

  Rose and Randy's two children were at the Princeton Enclave boarding school, but every Sunday afternoon William would drive them back to the mansion for a long-distance videolink dinner with their parents. Junior and Rosey really looked forward to the dinners, since Cook's meals were much better than the offerings at the boarding-school cafeteria.

  Fortunately, since the videolink between Spacemaster and Earth suffered no time dilation effects when brought through the warpgate, the family didn't have to cope with slipping calendars, shifting clocks, and red-shifted voices. The only evidence that the children were light-years away from their parents was the quarter-of-a-second time delay introduced by the long hop between the Princeton satellite dish to the Reinhold geosynchronous station that held the other end of the warpgate.

  "Junior High graduation will be in a few weeks," said Junior. "Will you be coming, Dad?"

  "I'll see it on video," Randy answered, not really wanting to face the crowds. Besides, his presence at the graduation would be likely to provoke a protest action by the Animal Rescue Front activists. "I've got to stay on the ship in case there's a problem."

  "I'll be there, Junior," said Rose with a sweet smile. "I've been here with your father for over four months now."