A THEORY OF GRAVITY: A SPACE OPERA by Norman Taylor ([email protected]; 253-292-8189; 776 Commerce St., Apt. 905; Tacoma, WA 98402-4510)—152,575 words
Book 1
Chapter 1: To the Asteroids
At a time in the not-too-distant future when space travel from Earth to the outer region of the galaxy had become more feasible than at any time in the recent past because of improved systems of propulsion and communication, an exploratory trip to some of the asteroids of the Kuiper Belt was planned. The trip was estimated to take two years for the approach and another two years for the return plus the one or more years in between spent exploring.
Though preliminary plans were to send two astronauts on this mission, a decision to send just one astronaut was finally approved, partly because it was thought that a computer could be installed in the ship that was so much more advanced than anything that had preceded it that it could provide a solitary astronaut onboard with the kind of companionship that would be needed to ward off debilitating loneliness. Another reason had to do with economics—sending one astronaut would be much less expensive than sending two.
Because the proposed trip would be the first of its kind and attract a lot of world-wide attention, a lot of care was taken in screening applicants and then choosing, from among the group of finalists, the one who would actually be first in line to make the trip. Only after the winning candidate was chosen was the real purpose of the mission disclosed: to explore a small portion of the Kuiper Belt where especially intriguing objects had been spotted.
The person chosen was Sylvia Ridgeway, a twenty-nine-year old pilot and geologist whose record as student and employee was impeccable and whose reflexes, stamina, and resourcefulness stood out in many ways as being superior to those qualities of all of the other candidates that had applied for this extraordinary assignment.
Even aspects of Ridgeway’s character that might be considered weaknesses had she been a candidate for a position on Earth were deemed to be strengths. Her solitary and ‘not-quite-fitting-in’ personality, for example, seemed particularly appropriate for someone about to embark on a solo voyage that would last for years. Also useful was that fact that she had very little in the way of ties to people back on Earth. Though Ridgeway had married once in her late teens, the marriage did not last long. There were no children. Also no romantic relationships at all seemed to have occurred that separated the end of the brief and unhappy marriage from the present.
She also was a single child of parents who also were single children. Both of her parents had died. She had no other living relatives and no close friends. This meant that she could leave Earth on a voyage estimated to take five years or so (two years to get to the Kuiper Belt, one year at least to explore some of the asteroids it contained, and two years to get back to Earth) without really being missed by anyone and without missing anyone who lived anywhere except in her imagination or in some spiritual realm where time and distance did not matter.
Had she not survived the trip, which of course was a distinct possibility, no one alive on Earth would have known her well enough or cared deeply enough about her to shed a single tear. All of this made her a prime candidate for a trip like that which was proposed.
Now, during the trip, the astronaut would have intermittent communication with the experts employed to monitor the trip. That communication plus ongoing and continuous communication with the onboard computer were deemed sufficient to satisfy whatever psychological needs for companionship existed within her.
After more than a year of study, instruction, and practice on simulated instruments, Ridgeway was formally notified of her selection and notified also of the date and time of departure. Offered a chance to travel anywhere on Earth for two weeks prior to departure or to see anyone or do anything that appealed to her (an offer she jokingly referred to as being the equivalent of the proverbial last meal offered an inmate condemned to be executed), she chose simply to remain in her apartment, watch television, fool around on her computer, study, and do some shopping. This choice of hers did not surprise any of those who had been involved in her screening and monitoring, one of whom joked with another who seemed surprised by asking “what else would you have expected her to say.”
For a short time prior to departure, Ridgeway, despite her usual solitary ways, had to live the life of a celebrity. When she asked if she really had to endure being in the spotlight, she was told that yes she had to because the space program needed the publicity for a couple of reasons. One reason is that the space program existed in part to educate the public about the cosmos and the technology of space travel and, that being so, her time as a celebrity would help with that. A second reason was political: that a trip like this that featured a celebrity (who happened also to be physically attractive) would appeal to the public and politicians in ways that might help garner funding for future projects.
Ridgeway was realistic enough and savvy enough to know that both reasons were valid and important; consequently, despite her sense of discomfort with being a celebrity, she participated willingly in a series of scheduled interviews and public appearances. Ironically, her evident discomfort with being in the spotlight along with her obvious intelligence, articulateness, and physical attractiveness made her appeal more to the public and politicians than if she had seemed eager to get all the attention she got.
The time came when she had to climb the ladder that took her from the surface of the platform on which her space ship sat to the door of the space ship. She turned the wheel that caused the door to open, got inside of the space ship, and locked the door from the inside. She was not wearing a space suit because that was not necessary then. A space suit was however stored inside of the space ship as was food and other necessary supplies. She sat down in one of the two reclining seats that furnished the space ship and said to the computer, “Well, here goes.” It replied initially by saying only “indeed” but then, after a pause, added, “Best wishes to us both and, for that matter, to all humankind.” She added, “And best wishes also to computer kind.” “Ha. Ha,” the computer said.
The space ship then took off. Two somewhat tedious but quite productive years followed (she continued her studies of the geology and physics of asteroids) before the ship entered the region to be explored and went almost immediately to an asteroid that proved to be especially interesting because instruments aboard combined with the computer’s analysis spotted a small perfectly rectangular and obviously intelligently made structure on the surface. The object resembled a small house or shed.
The closer the ship got to the asteroid the more the initial and wholly unexpected observation that an intelligently made structure was there was confirmed. What existed on a small piece of land on the surface of the asteroid, close to some rocky projections, was a single rectangular structure. Its surface was smooth and shiny. It seemed to be made out of something like stainless steel or silver. It looked like a house or shed.
What was even more remarkable and intriguing than the structure itself (assuming something already incredibly remarkable and intriguing could be topped by something else) was this: the structure had what appeared to be a door about the same size as doors humans used. The door was set into one of the side walls of the structure. The door, like the structure, was rectangular. It did not quite touch the ground: its lowest edge was instead placed about two feet above the surface of the ground.
Nothing other than the door existed to mar the otherwise completely smooth five exposed sides of the rectangle. There were no features like windows. There was nothing like a chimney attached to the roof nor was there anything resembling antennae. From the inside of the space ship, astronaut Ridgeway read the data, watched the photos and video displays, even pres
sed her face against the one porthole that let her get a glimpse of the object while the space ship slowly orbited high above the asteroid.
Then, the space ship turned about so that its tail was vertical to the part of the surface of the asteroid that was relatively flat and close to the rectangular object. Its rockets fired briefly to control the rate of descent. Then the space ship touched the ground.
Because communication with Earth took two hours, Ridgeway had to wait for a message reporting on the existence of the rectangular object having what seemed to be a door was transmitted to Earth by the computer that controlled the space ship and that also communicated with her. “That’s quite something, isn’t it?” the computer said to her after transmitting the message. She replied, “It’s wholly unexpected—some sort of relic of some long-lost civilization.” The computer said, “Or some means of access of beings belonging to a contemporary civilization that put the structure there and put a door on it to entice someone like you to enter.”
Four hours after the landing, a message came from Earth telling her to approach this structure as soon as possible after the landing, to circle around the structure, report back to the computer what she found, test whether the thing that looked like a door was actually a door by trying to open it, and, if it did open, to enter the structure, report what was inside of it, and then return to the space ship.
She did as she was told and was surprised to discover how much like a door the feature that looked like a door was. It even had a round grey (not silvery) knob about half the way down from the top edge—about where the handle on an ordinary door found on Earth would be. She tried turning the knob and was surprised to discover that it did turn. In fact, it turned quite easily as if recently lubricated and frequently used.
When she turned the knob as far as she could it to her right, she tried pushing on the feature that resembled a door that surrounded it and was surprised to discover that it was indeed a door. It opened inwards. She looked inside without entering the structure and found the room was lit up by small round recessed lights set into the ceiling. She saw also a row of buttons on the near wall to the right of her.
“This reminds me of an elevator,” she told the computer. “Me too,” it said. “If the door was indeed a door, the room that looks like an elevator might indeed be an elevator. I wonder where it goes,” the computer said. “It has to go somewhere down below,” Ridgeway said almost mechanically. She was deep in thought, reflecting on the nature of this strange apparition.
Because entering the room meant risking having the door close and lock behind her, she refrained from doing that. Instead, she returned to the ship and obtained a communications cable that was about three hundred feet long. It was rolled into a coil. She plugged one end into a receptacle built into her space suit and put the coil over her right arm. Her idea was to unroll the coil before entering the structure so that, once inside, she could continue to communicate with the ship’s computer even if the materials making up the structure blocked all electro-magnetic signals.
If the signals turned out to be blocked by the structure, she figured she could explore up to a little less than three hundred feet away from the door but no further. If the signals were not blocked, the cable would have been proved to be unnecessary; and she would feel free to go wherever her curiosity and the design of the structure or whatever was below it led her.
She then proceeded to exit the ship and, with the cable looped around one shoulder) to approach the structure once again. When she was about a hundred feet away from the structure, she took the coil off her shoulder, set it down on the ground, and rearranged it so that it lay stretched across the ground behind her.
The coil having been rearranged as she wanted, she walked up to the door and, before opening it again, spoke into the microphone of her space suit to the computer. She said, “Well, everything seems to be in order. I am going to enter this structure now and, because of the cable, I should be able to continue communicating with you even if the material of which this structure is composed would otherwise cut off all communication. I can talk to you through the cable since it will lay partly outside of the structure even after I go inside.”
She continued, “I will go no further into the structure than the length of the cable allows. When I find that the end of the cable has been pulled up against the door, I will go no further. Instead, I will return to the door, exit the structure, return to the ship, and figure out what next to do.”
She continued, “There remains the possibility that the material of which the structure is made does not block signals. To test that, I will, once inside the structure, removed the cable from its connector and try talking to you. If you hear me and respond, then we will know that these precautions I have taken have not been necessary. If you do not hear me and do not respond, then I will plug the cable back into my suit and talk to you by means of the cable.”
Standing at the door and with one hand on the handle and about to turn it, she said, “Of course, anything can go wrong. As was repeatedly drilled into me during training, I have to be prepared for any contingency. Whatever happens, I will do the best I can. Wish me luck. Here I go.”
The computer spoke to her at this point. It said, “Be careful. You have been carefully screened and very thoroughly trained. The chances are that you will do what is best regardless of circumstances. Remember though to keep always on guard. Prepare for anything. Anything can happen.”
“I will,” she said. She was nervous. In a way that she knew made no rational sense, she envied the space ship and the computer that controlled it for being able to stay outside of the mysterious structure inside of which all kinds of perils might exist while she felt compelled because of her role as explorer to go inside.
She turned the knob, pushed the door, and walked into the structure. No sooner had she entered than the door began slowly to close. She said, “As I told you earlier, I am inside of a little room having a bank of buttons next to the door that, now that I am inside and turned around, is to my left. The room is otherwise featureless.”
The door continued to close. She looked around for a loose rock or other object that she might put into the door opening to keep the door from closing onto her cable. She figured the rock would protect the cable in case the closing door squeezed it or cut it while also guaranteeing that she could push her way out of there in case it looked like she was being trapped. She relayed her thoughts about obtaining the rock to the computer. It said, “Good idea. Proceed.”
She saw what looked like loose rocks lying between the structure and the ship and decided to get one of those. She told the computer of her observations. “Yes,” the computer replied, “I see them too. Your decision to retrieve an appropriate one and use it to block the door seems wise.”
By the time she decided to get one of the rocks and had communicated this plan with the computer, the door had nearly closed. It had reached the cable and was squeezing it.
She tried pulling on the door but found that she was not strong enough to pull it open. It kept closing and, as it did so, dragged her along with it. She told the computer, “I tried pulling on the door but am not strong enough. No matter how hard I try to widen the opening, it keeps closing.”
The computer said, “The problem is a serious one. It may prove to be more than any person, no matter how wise or well-trained or for that matter no matter how strong, can handle. That having been said, I have nothing to communicate but lame encouragement. So I will say no more than this: Do the best you can.”
She had to let go. The door closed all the way, severing the cable as it did so. She pulled the cut end of the cable into the room. She tried talking to the computer through the cut cable. She said, “The door cut the cable. Do you hear me anyway?” She got no response. She unplugged the cable from her suit and spoke through the microphone. “I am talking to you now through my microphone only. Do you hear me?” There was no response.
She looked around the tiny room, reali
zing that she was completely cut off from the outside world and trapped inside of the little room. Her only option was to examine the bank of buttons and try pressing some at random. There were incomprehensible inscriptions printed on the buttons; but, because these made no sense to her, she had to ignore them.
The computer, aware that communications had been cut, could only imagine what was going on inside of the room. It ran through its preprogrammed list of thoughts, actions, and feelings that humans might experience under circumstances like these.
Running through a list was, for the computer, the equivalent of imagining. Therefore, it imagined her despair. It imagined her futile efforts to communicate. It imagined her sense of panic as she came to realize that she was trapped in an utterly mysterious structure attached to the surface of a celestial object very far away from Earth. It summed up from its memory and instructions a set of thoughts that were the equivalent of pity. Alongside of the sense of pity there came a sense of being relatively well off. It knew that none of what it felt mattered because all that mattered was the fate of the human trapped inside of the structure. With her being lost, the whole purpose of the mission was in danger of failing.
The computer then had to decide what it needed to do and decided that, consistent with preprogrammed instructions given it, it had simply to wait for her to emerge from the structure no matter how long that took. If it had to wait a year or a decade or a century, it would wait. It would have to turn off its own sense of the passage of time as well as its tendency to draw conclusions regarding what might be the astronaut’s fate. For instance, it could not decide that she will never return. Drawing such a conclusions was utterly out of bounds for it.
The computer was also bound to maintain regular communication with Earth. It explained first of all what happened to the astronaut and then reported at regular intervals whether or not it had gotten any sign of her continued existence. It knew that, no matter how much time would henceforth pass, as long as she remained inside of the structure and incommunicado, it would report once a day the simple message: “No change.”
A Theory of Gravity Page 1