Magellan

by Scott Baird

  Could they be talking to him? Was he losing his sanity?

  “That... shouldn't be possible, Commander.”

  “I'm holding alien artifacts in my hands, Ferdinand. I think we've already stretched beyond ‘possible’.” The glow of color from the spheres filled his vision. “We are not alone,” he murmured. “And we never were. We just couldn't hear them.”

  He lowered the spheres. “Help me understand what they're saying, Ferdinand. Can you infer any patterns in the incoming signals? Are they speech, data, some kind of machine language or text? Is it just music?”

  “It could be any assortment of each, sir. The signals vary widely. It would take about six years for me to run correlations between enough of these signals to begin piecing together an alphabet or speech pattern, if that's what they are. Perhaps if you brought my full memory back online, sir?”

  Nelson frowned. “Not going to happen. Not now, anyway.”

  “In any event, all the binary data seems to be encoded in a DNA codex.”

  “They communicate with DNA code? That's a lot of data.” Holding all three spheres together, Nelson set them gently on top of the console and held his hands over them. He stood straight, eyes closed, trying to decode what was happening inside the Magellan.

  The star charts on the screen suddenly began to blur into a rapid series, then froze on a single map of Nelson's own solar system.

  The noise of the alien transmissions died down into a single, regular pulse. It was similar to the first signal he'd heard, but slower in tempo and lower in tone. When it faded momentarily, he distinctly heard the sound of his own wife speaking. “Follow my voice,” he thought she said, but it was almost whispered and then it was gone.

  “Ferdinand? That's not you, is it? What's happening?”

  “A new signal, sir. From inside our solar system, but much more distant than the others. It appears to originate from a dark body within the Oort Cloud. Well beyond the explored regions of space, about a third of a light year from Earth. This signal seems to have somehow reached us instantaneously despite that distance.”

  “Because of the spheres. They’re channeling it to us.” Nelson stared at the chart. A tiny mark indicated the source of the signal. It was exponentially farther out than any of the other signals had been, nowhere near any known planets or familiar celestial bodies.

  But the implication was there.

  It was the next step in his journey. They were beckoning him onward.

  “How long would it take to travel there, Ferd?”

  “Approximately ninety-eight years. Provided the Magellan's systems remained at peak functionality throughout. It was not designed for such an extended voyage.”

  Nelson was silent for a moment. “But it should theoretically be capable of maintaining power that long, if you and I were both hibernating the whole time.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if we used up all of the Magellan’s fuel to give as much constant acceleration as possible?”

  “Thirty-eight years, sir. But that would leave nothing for a return journey, which is outside mission parameters.”

  “Right. No going back.”

  Nelson let go of the spheres. They stopped glowing, but the new signal remained audible on the ship's comms system, and the star chart stayed on screen. He stared out the window at the field of stars. Were they the same ones from his dreams and visions? Did they represent an unimaginable distance between he and Abigail, he and Earth? Or was everything that mattered actually out there among them?

  “Shall I transmit our findings to NASA, sir?”

  “Yes, do that,” he said, thoughtful and deliberate in a way he hadn't been for some time. “And go ahead and prep the stasis box.”

  “Are we headed homeward, sir? Protocol calls for us to await NASA's directive before leaving Eris, in case we need to do any further inspection work.”

  “I'm aware of that, Ferd.” Nelson reached down and absently played with the spheres like piano keys, lighting up each in turn and moving between their individual tones and their combinations. “I don't intend to return to Earth without following this mission as far as it will go. I can’t.”

  “But sir, it would be safer—”

  “They brought us this far, Ferd. There has to be a reason.”

  “The mission concerns the signals, sir. And the DNA you discovered here.” Ferdinand was undoubtedly programmed to reason with him around the mission objectives, to assist him in cautiously vetting any deviations. Nelson didn't mind; it was helpful to bounce his ideas off of someone, to test how crazy they sounded.

  “Not just to show us some interesting evidence in our solar system. Those are only stepping stones. Something far greater awaits us.” He tapped the screen where the little marker blinked in the depths of the Oort Cloud. “Out there.”

  19 – A Long Journey Ahead

  Many hours later, and the reply from NASA still hadn't reached the Magellan. No doubt it was winging its way silently through the solar system, aimed at Eris and the small spacecraft that orbited it. But the Magellan’s commander had no reason to wait around.

  He recorded a message of his own, one which he’d spent considerable time preparing in his mind.

  “Abigail. This will be hard for you to hear, and I'm sorry for that. I can't imagine how difficult these last several years have been for you, and I'm sorry I haven't been there. But... I have to go forward. As it turns out, my mission is far from over.”

  Nelson stared into the camera, imagining his wife’s face in place of the smooth black circle that was recording him.

  “I don't know if I'll be back. I have to believe that they wouldn't have brought me this far and shown me the way forward unless it was worth it—a sacrifice that needs to be made.

  “They're calling me, and I must answer. I don't know what I will find out there, exactly, but I know there is an answer, and I can't turn away now. I have to follow my own path.”

  He paused, swallowing hard. “I love you, Abby. I realize it's wrong of me to expect so much from you, so I want you to have the option to refuse orders, to cut yourself free. I won't hold you to any obligations you might feel toward me, social or legal or otherwise. Live your life how you see fit, with no guilt or regrets. That’s just how it has to be.

  “My final chess move is King to G6. It might seem a little unorthodox, but that's intended.

  “Goodbye.”

  He ended the recording and sent it before his nerve could fail him. Ferdinand, always listening in, ever helpful, piped up.

  “Sir, I believe that move places your king in check with her pawn. It's an illegal move.”

  Nelson smiled. “You're correct, Ferdinand. I’m glad to know you’ve been following along. Now, set a new trajectory for the signal source in the Oort Cloud, and let's be on our way.”

  “Leaving orbit around Eris, sir? And not bound for Earth?”

  “Affirmative. Get us out there as fast as possible. We have discoveries to make.”

  “But sir—”

  “I am still in command of this mission, Ferdinand, and you have your orders. Into the Oort Cloud.”

  “Yes, sir. The stasis box will be ready momentarily.”

  Nelson left the cockpit and began to prepare himself for the long sleep. He wondered how his body would handle multiple decades in stasis. How would he age? It was entirely untested on this scale.

  NASA's initial reply came while Nelson was still getting ready. The missive was recorded by a group of NASA administrators who congratulated him on the Eris discovery and dictated a series of slow, boring tests and follow-up tasks which he already knew would amount to nothing at all. He smiled and nodded at no one in particular, never pausing as he climbed into the stasis box and the fluid level began to rise.

  By the time the next transmission from NASA arrived, he was already in stasis and the Magellan was on course for the dark body, accelerating into the Oort Cloud, directly away from light and life and the heart of humanity.


  Another reply came even later, when those on Earth had realized where the Magellan was headed.

  It was Becker this time. “Commander Nelson, the Secretary has brought me back in to reason with you. You need to either return control of the Magellan to us, or manually begin your return journey immediately. But you cannot continue on your present course. While I personally commend you for your scientific audacity, we simply can't afford to take this mission into unknown territory at this point. There will be a time for that, but it isn't now. Maybe in another ten or twenty years we can launch a new mission. For now, we need you to bring those beacons back to Earth.

  “For heaven's sake, Nelson—you won't survive! The ship was never intended to go that far. We don't even know what's out there; not even our early explorers have made it that far. Please listen to sense. By the time you even come out of stasis, we'll all be in a rest home somewhere. Me, Abby, everyone you know.

  “Your mission is complete, you're a hero, and your orders are to come home while you still can. Please!”

  Hot on the heels of that one was a transmission from Abigail. The Secretary had removed all obstacles now that he saw his reach slipping.

  “Roger Nelson, have you lost your mind? You need to come back. I need you. I've waited five years and I can wait five more. Please come home!”

  The Magellan, silent and dark but for the flashing of two exterior lights and a low hum of the life support systems inside, cruised faster and faster into the unknown.

  We shall not cease from exploration

  And the end of all our exploring

  Will be to arrive where we started

  And know the place for the first time.

  --T.S. Eliot

  Epilogue

  Three years of constant acceleration had brought the Magellan up to a speed of nearly fifteen kilometers per second. On Earth, it would be considered ultrasonic speed, something in the range of Mach 50. But in the vacuum of space, it was simply another object traveling through the vastness. There were many comets that traveled far more quickly.

  Inside, all was dark. 12,960 days remained to complete the journey to the distant point in the Oort Cloud, if Ferdinand's projections and the Magellan's speed held constant.

  But they did not.

  The stasis box began to depressurize, and the lights came on in the cabin.

  Nelson's eyes snapped open.

  “Good morning, Commander Nelson.”

  *

  Watch the Magellan feature film at arrowstormentertainment.com

  Screenwriter and author Scott Baird lives in Boise, Idaho and writes science fiction and fantasy under the pen name Shad Callister. Sign up here if you’d like to hear about his future releases, including an original epic fantasy series coming soon. Other titles currently available:

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