“All Earth-based food stores are depleted, spoiled, or dead. I only have access to computer information though.”
He spilled some peanuts into his hand and lifted them to his mouth one at a time. He gazed around the dimly lit dome and shook his head.
“You conveniently stated ‘Earth-based food stores’. Are there others?”
“The SA Space Station located eight hundred miles above the Earth is still supplied with thousands of frozen stores for the next mission to Tau Ceti. This was supposed to depart in 2809.”
“What? Is the food still good? Is there a ship up there? Is there a way to get up there?”
“You just asked four questions without waiting for a reply. I’ll assume the first question was just an exclamation of surprise. Yes, the food would still be safe to eat. Yes, there is a ship docked at the station. Yes, there is a way to get up there, but you would need to be able to fly an A-19 Orbiter.”
He stared at the ceiling - a natural reaction to the direction from which the computer spoke. He knew the computer was somewhere else entirely, but the voice came to him from speakers in the roof beams. The information it offered was overwhelming, but he had to consider every detail he was given. His backpack contained enough supplies to keep him alive for maybe a month, but thanks to his stupidity, he would be stuck in this world for many years. He was running out of options.
“And in what ways could you assist me?” he asked, popping some more peanuts into his mouth.
“I am limited as I’m sure you understand. I could print you a map to the Orbiter, but this is only a mile away at the SA Port. I cannot fly the A-19, but I could insert myself into the onboard system and assist you with instructions.”
“And can I board this… this Space Station?”
“I already have access to all the onboard systems. That will not be a problem.”
“Give me some opinions, computer. Should I leave for the space station?”
“You confuse me, Skylar Rains.”
“What do you mean?”
“How can I give you an opinion? You are a living human being. I cannot assist in decisions like this.”
“You can offer educated help. Which would be wiser? I am stuck here with no way to return to my century. Should I stay here or should I risk flying an unknown craft up into orbit and attempt docking it to the space station? Keep in mind that I am an untrained pilot, astronaut, and whatever else you might want to toss in there.”
“If you choose to live, then the obvious choice would be to attempt to fly the Orbiter up to the station. You have a 99.3% chance of dying if you stay here, yet with my help, I believe your chances of making it to the space station alive are more than 50%. There is enough food and water up there to sustain you for 687 years.”
He sighed and arose from the ground.
“The directions to the SA Port are printed from the terminal by the blue exit sign. I can verbally assist you in flying the Orbiter, but I am essentially blind. Much will be demanded of your own skills.”
“For a computer program, you…” he started, “You are being quite a friend.”
“For lack of a better term, I am intrigued and pleased to have a purpose outside of my usual responsibilities. Unlike the computers of your time, we experience a true passage of time and therefore, we experience boredom.”
He nodded as he paced the floor. He started toward the blue exit sign when the world ripped open and he found himself suddenly transported to a summertime world of vivid greens, yellows, oranges, blues, and pinks.
Skylar was standing on a massive porch staring out at four kids running through the flower beds in the giant front yard. He glanced to his right and was reminded of those beautiful southern homes as he discovered the true length of the porch. The white porch spanned the whole length of the house and had plenty of room for the three wicker chairs, the wicker table, a wooden rocker, and the porch swing. The sweet smell of flowers drifted in on the warm summer breeze. He inhaled deeply.
“Do you want me to still show you around?” the familiar voice asked from behind him.
He turned to her as she put her arm around his waist. It was the same beautiful lady from before.
“Please tell me where I am. Please? I’m confused by what’s happening and you’re the only human who speaks to me. And… and you’re absolutely beautiful. Who are you?” he asked, blurting out the words like a machine gun.
“I really don’t think it is my place to say. But if you want, I can probably bring you to the person who can help you.” she replied, “Let’s cut through my backyard.”
She searched his face for a response, smiling as she always seemed to be doing. Finally, she took a hold of his hand and led him down the porch steps.
“Is this your house?” he asked.
“Yes. Isn’t it beautiful?” she replied, “I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it.”
He watched the perfect smile on her face as she stared at the house. He tried to envision creating this lady from his own imagination. She was beautiful, but not in a way that resembled anyone he knew. Her eyes suddenly dropped to his, causing him to flush with embarrassment.
“Why do you look at me like that?” she asked.
“You’re stunning and I’m worried that you’re not real. What if I invented you?”
“Oh, I’m real. Honestly, I think you’re the one who’s not. You’re the only one I’ve found who doesn’t seem very happy. How can you be here and not be happy? Would you be happy if I kissed you? I can still do that, you know. I may be someone else’s bride, but hey - aren’t we all?”
He glanced around, suddenly worried about a jealous husband lurking nearby. She was the one who kept drawing him near and she was the one who had grabbed his hand. If anything, she was the one who continued to pursue him.
“Come. I’ll take you to a party and there you will find your answers,” she said, reaching around and drawing him to her suddenly, “But first, a kiss to ease your heart.”
She pressed her lips to his before he could protest. She kissed him quickly and gently at the same time. The soft feel of her lips against his stunned him in such a way that he thought his heart literally stopped beating. Then, before he had a chance to die, she grabbed his hand and started running through the yard as though nothing intimate had ever happened.
He struggled to keep up with her as they ran through the tall grass. He finally permitted the smile to creep through his stern features. Her laughter as she ran ahead made him want to chase her like a child on a playground. Her hand slipped from his as she jumped over a little creek. He leapt the creek in a single bound and raced after her.
Then she was gone as well as the brilliant world she lived in. He found himself running inside the noisy dome. He was now absolutely certain that he wasn’t dreaming.
He screamed in anger, then slammed his fists against a rising ventilation shaft.
“Computer, why do I keep transporting somewhere else?”
“You’ve been inside the dome the whole time. I have not witnessed any transporting.”
“I keep visualizing a bright, summertime world with a beautiful lady in it. There are always people running around and laughing. And I’m not asleep when this happens.”
“I’m sorry that I cannot offer any answers.”
“There must be a problem with the time machine. Maybe it sent me to two different places at the same time. Couldn’t it replicate me?”
“The machine you used is a Type A Transporter and this cannot replicate you. It can only transport the data available and it only transports where it is directed to.”
“So you can hypothesize with me. You obviously have the ability. I need some suggestions. This is real – whatever it is.”
“I cannot hypothesize with you because I have access to the historical records.”
He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ceiling. The computer was withholding something.
“So you are saying that you have definite an
swers to my questions. You can tell me what I’m experiencing.”
“I cannot hypothesize since I am privy to history.”
“So you have actual answers that you will not share with me,” he shouted, his voice rising high above the machinery, “I won’t ask specifics. Just tell me – is she real?”
“You will force me to shut down again if you are going to keep asking questions like this. Without searching through history, I can only say that I don’t know what is happening and I don’t know who she is.”
He screamed again out of frustration. After a moment of pacing, he finally accepted one truth – that the computer knew something historical about his experiences with this woman. If Skylar were to later share these stories when he returned, then there must definitely be some substance to this woman. He vowed in this moment that if Tiara was just a dream, he would never speak of her again – which means that she simply would not exist in historical records. This thought alone made him smile.
“Fine. I’m leaving in the morning for the Orbiter and I won’t ask anymore questions. Will you still help me?”
“Yes, Skylar Rains. I would be honored.”
4
Space Administration
Sleep was a luxury he wouldn’t fully enjoy that night. His rest was interrupted several times throughout the night by the sudden bangs and knocks of the ventilation fans. He finally gave up on winning the battle and decided to begin his quest into the Earth’s orbit.
He spent almost two minutes marking the giant ventilation duct as his bathroom. Then he donned his jacket, stocking cap, gloves, and finally the backpack.
“I made a scan of the SA Port and it seems that much of the base is in shambles or even partially non-existent. Keep in mind that the Space Administration was essentially destroyed during the war in 2908.”
“Are you saying the Orbiter may not be operational?” he asked.
“Again, I am blind. I turned on the ventilation to the main hangar and I remotely powered up the Orbiter. The hangar is not heating well, so I must assume there are some broken windows or breeches in the walls. The Orbiter also appears to have a breech of some sort because I cannot pressurize the craft.”
“Do we have another plan if this doesn’t work?”
“The Orbiter systems are all operational, so the only plan is for you to fix whatever problem we discover.”
“Then if you’ll open the door, I’ll be on my way.”
The door slid open followed by a swirl of falling snow. Skylar stepped out into the blistery cold and discovered that his footprints from yesterday were already buried in a new dusting of snow.
He had already memorized the map, so his first step would be to locate the remains of a rocket statue. This was originally a 150-foot replica of the first light speed vessel according to the computer. Made of three-inch thick bronze, it should still exist in some form.
The wind increased, urging him to pull his collar up and tuck his chin down. He strained to keep his eyes open in spite of the bitter wind. He shivered when all of a sudden, it all disappeared. The winter was, yet again, replaced by that familiar summer of vivid colors and warm breezes.
“Well, there you are,” she said, “The party is over here.”
He turned and located her standing next to a beautiful white building with decorative windows of wavy glass. She leaned against a wooden railing that had been strung with lighted paper lanterns. The music emanating from the building was reminiscent of the techno dance music of his teen years. The thump of the bass rattled the windows.
“Well, get over here. Let’s go in,” she waved to him.
All he wanted to do was grab a hold of something to keep him from returning to that wintery world. Questions filled his head: Should he grasp that railing she was leaning on and refuse to let go? Should he wrap his arms around her and never release her? He doubted any of his efforts would keep him here though. It felt as though he didn’t belong. She definitely did, but not Skylar.
“Can you get me the answers I need?” he asked, walking cautiously toward her.
“Definitely. The man with the answers is in here and he’ll know what’s going on,” she said, grabbing a hold of his hands, “But I need to tell you something important.”
Her permanent smile faded for a moment as she brought her face close to his.
“If something happens, I want you to remember something. Are you listening to me?” she asked, piercing him with her serious stare.
Now she had his full attention. This perfectly happy woman was suddenly worried about something.
“Yes. What is it?”
“Remember this. You can still have all of this. Look around. You still have a chance where no one else does. Do you hear me? No one else has a chance.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I mean exactly what I said. If something happens, don’t give up.”
Before he could respond, she pushed the door open with her hip and pulled him into the building with her. He found himself walking into a reception hall beyond the confines of his imagination. From the outside, the building appeared to be no larger than a typical dance club. Now he found himself inside a dance hall that spanned for miles in all directions - literally. People were seated at tables laughing, talking, eating, or just watching those who were dancing. The enormous room was filled with millions of people singing, dancing, and feasting in what had to be the greatest party since the dawn of time.
“This is awesome!” Skylar yelled above the music.
“And would you believe that everyone was invited? This is the Wedding Feast of the Lamb,” she said, “This party has been going strong for a long, long time. I’ve lost track of time to be honest. It serves no purpose anymore. And here… people just don’t want to leave the party. Who would?”
“I never heard of this. I never imagined a party this big. I wish I had a camera,” he replied.
“Follow me,” she said, tugging him along through the crowd of dancers, “He’s over here.”
The lady inserted herself through a group of people and drew Skylar close to her. Finally she stopped and stood before a man dressed in gleaming white clothes. There was a special brilliance to the man who stopped mid-sentence and glanced suddenly at Skylar. The man had been engrossed in a conversation with a small group, but now it seemed like everyone’s attention was turned suddenly to Skylar. Skylar simply gaped in awe at the shimmering man who demanded his attention.
The brilliant sturdy man nudged past Skylar’s beautiful guide and approached him. He looked down at Skylar’s clothing then stared at him with a look of confusion.
“Friend, how did you get in here without wedding clothes?” he asked.
Skylar was speechless.
In that instant, he found himself back in the cold tundra of the dead world. This time, he was unable to hold back the tears. She had been sent here only to torment him. Her job was to tease him with a world completely opposite of the world he was currently in.
The tears continued to come as he headed toward the bronze heap of metal leaning against a partially broken building. He navigated around the statue and located the hangar several yards beyond.
He wiped his eyes and ran toward the hangar. The bay doors were standing wide open which explained the computer’s inability to properly heat the building. He rushed inside and didn’t get out of the snow until he was almost ten feet into the building.
“Computer? I’m inside,” he shouted.
“I cannot close the bay doors. I realized the problem after you had left.”
“There’s a lot of snow and ice in the way. If it’s all the same to you, I’d just rather leave it alone and get off this godforsaken planet. I’m fed up.”
“You need to inspect the orbiter. There is a hull breech of some sort.”
He looked at the white vehicle that appeared to be nothing more than small jet with a tube jutting upward out of the top. It resembled something like a submarine with wings.
A door opened on the side, triggered probably by a command from the computer.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Skylar said.
“We have no choice. How does the hull look?”
He stepped inside and glanced around the small vehicle. The door closed behind him followed by a click. He looked to the right and realized there was very limited space. There were only two seats for passengers separated by a ladder. He squeezed between the seats and followed the ladder up into the ceiling. It ended at what appeared to be a circular escape hatch.
“I am still detecting a leak. This would be deadly when we leave the atmosphere.”
“I don’t see anything so far.”
He turned and headed into the cockpit where he recognized the problem immediately.
“How do we solve the problem of a broken windshield? There are two bullet holes.”
“I am running some scenarios now.”
Skylar was shocked to discover not much in the way of flight controls. Airplanes and jets of his time were riddled with dials and controls. After about a minute of silence, the door opened behind him.
“Go out into the hangar and locate a toolbox or a tool cabinet. There should be toolboxes somewhere. We need two items, but we can risk it with just one if necessary.”
He rushed out of the spacecraft and scanned the walls of the hangar. Many objects were alien to him. Some of the things may have been engine parts or small vehicles of some sort. Then his eyes fell upon several large toolboxes similar to those tall monstrosities in mechanic’s garages of the 21st century.
The wind howled outside, whistling as it entered through the bay doors. He shivered before informing the computer that he located the tool cabinets.
“The drawers will be lined with a rubber padding. One of these rubber mats will suffice. Spacecraft mechanics are trained to store their tools in a specific order. Adhesives are to be stored in the bottom drawer in case of leakage. You need to try to locate a product labeled ‘gasket adhesive’.”
Skylar proceeded over to the large red box and tugged on the drawers. None of them opened. He kicked the box in frustration then hurried over to a dull yellow tool box against the other wall. The drawer opened, but it was empty. He tried the bottom drawer and discovered several tubes of adhesives. He quickly sifted through the items, tossing the unwanted ones carelessly onto the floor.
Event Horizon Page 4