The Chronicles of Henry Harper

by Jacen Aster

  As light speed rapidly approached, and travel speed began exceeding any human reaction time, everyone onboard sat back from their consoles as the ship’s computer took over their functions. All eyes were on the nearest telemetry readouts. Absolute silence descended as the Exploration passed the speed record for manned flight, and then for unmanned flight. Whispered prayer became the common sound as the light speed barrier approached, and stunned silence reigned as it passed by without so much as a whimper. Tension ratcheted as the engines continued pushing onward to the half-power they had been programmed for, and deafening cheers broke out as the ship's deceleration back to sub-light speeds saw us all still pleasantly alive and Einstein, as promised, made a fool.

  Then it all went wrong.

  The first localized alarm was nearly lost in the cheering, but the second ship-wide alarm stopped everyone like a punch to the gut. Panic and confusion suddenly became the order of the day as everyone aboard recognized the terrible sound of every sailor’s, whether on the sea or in space, worst nightmare. The alarm spoke that nightmare aloud, in a terrible and universal pitch.

  Fire. The ship was on fire.

  Everyone scrambled to abandoned consoles, desperate to find the problem, to aid the automated systems in ending the nightmare. Blood ran cold as readout after readout told that the fire had already spread into the bulkheads, igniting wiring that couldn’t be cut at speed to seal the compartments. Panels were ripped open, extinguishers brought to bear, and in all the ship only Henry stood frozen, utterly unable to move.

  Henry was frozen, not in panic, but in the deepest horror. For he saw what no other did. The fire had already spread to the cabins surrounding the inertial compensators. The compensators which were all that stood between them and being flattened like so many bugs on a windshield before the universal power of inertia. The compensators that his own patchwork fix had opened up to the fire by running unsecured, nonstandard wiring into. Ernie’s yell shook Henry from his state of frozen horror. Grabbing one of the few untouched hand extinguishers, Henry bolted right up to the line of fire and, with a grimace, charged past the line of crew and into a raging inferno.

  A hand grabbed his shoulder and Ernie’s voice screamed in his ear, “What the hell are you doing? Hold the damn fire line!”

  Henry’s angry retort froze Ernie’s blood so cold he shivered in spite of the inferno raging around them. “It’s reached the compensators. If it catches our wiring patch, we’re all dead!” Roughly shoving Ernie away, he charged into the next room, which was all but a wall of flame, desperately spraying suppression foam in front of himself to open a narrow path.

  Stalled by the wall of fire that was blistering his skin, Henry’s heart sank as his extinguisher ran low short of the next hatch.

  Then he heard Ernie’s voice scream over the crackle of flames. “Concentrate on Henry! Open him a path, damn it!”

  Barely an instant passed before he was covered in foam and a tossed extinguisher landed at his feet. As he snatched it up, the wall of flame retreated from the hatch. Burning himself on the hot half-melted metal of the emergency override, Henry threw open the hatch and sprinted into an as yet untouched room, stumbling as an explosion somewhere above him rocked the ship. Gaining his balance, he passed through the room to a flame-engulfed hallway whose bulkhead he knew concealed the wiring he sought. Ignoring the flame all around him, he popped a panel, saw the flames licking at the bundle of wires and sprayed it without hesitation. Relief flooded him as the flames retreated from the foam coating and, as he collapsed from the pain of his burns, he heard the footsteps of more crew bursting in behind him. Hope filled Henry as his world faded to black.

  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

  I never saw Mira again. The explosion I felt during the disaster was Generator B, right under the science section. It opened that area of the ship to space, stopping a great deal of the fire spread, but also killing everyone in science that hadn't died in the explosion itself. Only a few of the scientists survived from the entire original complement of twenty-seven, and Mira's body, along with those of three of her crewmates, was never recovered. It is presumed, given the location of her station, that she was vaporized in the initial explosion, rather than being blown out into space as others were.

  My own grief at the time was all the greater when it was discovered that the fire had been caused by a minor fault in the internal comm wiring. The same comm wiring I had been pulled from when Jack started sending me work. To this day, I still wonder whether it would have made a difference if I had done that wiring myself, but I suppose that such thoughts are a product of our own natures.

  Even now, decades later, her loss has never truly left me. It has been said that “Time heals all wounds,” and I suppose that it is true after a fashion. For neither the mind nor the soul can long sustain the largest griefs, the greatest pains. Eventually, the wound must be healed, or at least scarred over, simply to protect the sanity of the griever. For all that, however, a healed wound is not the same as unwounded flesh and sinew. An echo of the pain I felt when I woke up in the hospital and was told of her fate will always be with me. Nor would I wish it otherwise, for it is a pain honestly come by, and a reminder of someone I never wish to forget.

  As for others, and for the project, Jack attended as many of the funerals as he was allowed to, but was ultimately undeterred from his dream. Even counting the disaster, the test had still been branded a success. We had, after all, surpassed light speed and safely returned. It was a mere freak accident, one that had nothing to do with the light speed tests, that had resulted in so many deaths. As it would turn out, Jack and Ernie had already planned a complete rebuild for the Exploration if the test was successful, but many of the original crew wanted nothing to do with the ship any longer. I was one of the few original crew to stay on, Jack himself having come to see me after Mira’s funeral to offer me a job as one of the Master Engineers for the project.

  Of course, everyone knows what happened after that. The original test had surpassed Jack's wildest estimation, hitting nearly three times the speed of light before the computers pulled the plug, and that with only half power on the engines. The Exploration II would include a number of improvements that had been dreamed up, by Jack and others, during the initial build. Its final speed ended up topping out at near fourteen times the speed of light, with a safe cruising speed of around twelve times the speed of light. A speed that allowed it to make its famous year-long round-trip to Alpha Centauri, making for the first visit by mankind to another solar system. I did, in fact, remain with the Exploration II for that journey, but that is, perhaps, a story for another time.

  Chapter 2 - Of Aliens and Men

  It appears that Kayla was, rather to my chagrin, quite right about the potential popularity of my tales. I don’t pretend to understand why anyone is interested, but after I gave her my first chapter, the story about my time on the Exploration made its way around the ship in a startlingly short time. There were many more demands for the file, and by now I think half the ship has read it.

  Aside from a little mortal embarrassment resulting from a flock of women consoling me for a forty-year-old loss, and the subsequent hazing from the other engineers, the most shocking thing to happen as a result of the story spreading was my receipt of an invitation to dine with the captain. On a diplomatic cruise. A major diplomatic cruise. With all the big wigs that such an idea implies. What the hell? I admit it wasn’t my first experience with such rarified company, but those were generally all as a guest of someone like Jack, or other acquaintances. To be pulled up to rub elbows with such people purely for the sharing of a few old stories is something that breaks my mind just a little.

  Well, I couldn’t very well turn the invitation down and it actually was, amazingly enough, a rather pleasant experience. The aforementioned rarified company all seemed interested in my story, and in my other supposed “adventures.” The universe has truly taken a turn for the bizarre w
hen people attired in five thousand credit suits and dresses are interested in the life of a lowly engineer….

  Anyway, my unexpected trip to the world of the upper crust aside, I’ve found myself writing again. This time, at the behest of the ambassador and captain. They found out that I was aboard the SLV Nova when it made first contact with the Aoreli. Mankind’s grand entry into galactic trade. I can’t imagine why they want to hear about it from me when there are a thousand, or rather thousands, of documentaries on the event. Some of them even have interviews with Samantha. Heck, I think I even caught a snippet, a few years back, from one that featured an interview with Jack. Still, if they want it, I’ll provide I suppose. Can’t imagine it will live up to their expectations though. Anyway, there I was….

  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

  Henry sighed as he kicked his toolbox closed and arched his back, wincing at the series of resulting pops. “I should’ve known when Jack shot me a vid after nearly two years of silence that his idea of an ‘interesting job for me’ really meant ‘the ship might threaten to explode on a regular basis.’”

  “What was that, boss?”

  Jumping a little, Henry whipped around to see Lorana Reichen, better known as Lore, standing close enough to touch. “Lore! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?”

  “If this counts, I believe it makes forty-seven, sir! Sorry, sir! I wasn’t trying to, sir!”

  Letting out another sigh, Henry pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the oncoming headache. “Calm down, Lore, and don’t call me sir. I’m barely three years older than you.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Resisting the urge to sigh yet again, Henry made a reluctant tactical withdrawal. The growing pain behind his eyes did not need to be aided and abetted by another frustrating and fruitless argument. “What is it, kid? Please tell me it’s something that can be handled over a hot meal.” Henry didn't feel the slightest bit of shame that his voice was nearly pleading. No, sir. Not a bit. It had been a long day, a long week, and an even longer month.

  Lore smiled. A dazzling sight and an amazing remedy for his frustration. You just couldn’t stay mad when she smiled. “I think that can be arranged, sir. It’s just the report from the quartermaster about our current spare parts inventory.”

  Henry grimaced. In his opinion, the Nova hadn’t actually been ready for service, and those spare part stores were not looking good as a result. Jack would just have to settle for a shorter than intended surveying trip. “Let me guess. Complete with another note whining about us using too many parts?”

  “Of course, sir. Just like the last eleven reports.”

  Henry grunted, stowed his toolbox on the way out the hatch, and waved Lorana on.

  Moving to walk alongside her as they reached a wider passageway, Henry cast around for a conversation to get his mind off the ship’s ever growing list of “what idiot designed this junkheap” problems. Eyes focusing on his momentary companion, he settled on a safe topic readily enough. “So, are you enjoying your first out-of-system tour?”

  The twenty-two-year-old blonde looked startled at the non-work related question. Slowly, and with obvious caution, she gave what she undoubtedly felt was a safe answer. He was her boss after all. “I like working with the Nova’s systems, obviously. Who wouldn’t? They are the bleeding edge of new technology! I have to admit, though, that I was expecting it to be a bit more…exciting.”

  Henry grinned and decided that was his cue to offer sage advice. “Space travel is pretty boring, Lore. At least the long-range stuff is. Even with the new drive systems on the Nova, we can’t reach Epsilon Eridani in less than five weeks. Six at our current speed.”

  Lore frowned. “I still don’t get it, why Epsilon Eridani anyway? There are closer stars that haven’t been surveyed yet.”

  Henry paused, causing Lore to stop and turn back to him with a quizzical look. Henry crooked a finger for her to come closer and stage whispered, “Do you want to know a secret?”

  Obviously confused, Lore nevertheless took a step towards him and leaned in, curiosity obvious in sea-blue eyes.

  “I know why we are going to Epsilon Eridani.” Trailing off with a teasing smirk, he decided to draw her in for the kill. “I don’t suppose you care though….”

  Lorana’s eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip, unconsciously making herself insufferably cute as she pleaded with him. “I want to know!”

  Unable to hold against such an expression, Henry caved way earlier then he had intended. “Fine! Fine! I’ll tell you why. The official story is that we are fairly certain it has exosolar planets. Two of them.”

  Looking even further confused, Lorana launched an interrogation, rapid firing questions much too fast for Henry to actually answer. “But why does that matter? Centauri has planets. So could the others. Why not one of them? Why not send drones to all of them for that matter? Why waste a survey ship? Why the Nova? Why—”

  “Whoa, there,” Henry interrupted. “One question at a time. Besides, I said that was the official reason.” Henry paused, waiting to see how long it would take for her to pounce on that comment.

  Not long, apparently. It had set her back only a moment before she exclaimed, “Official reason! Then what’s the unofficial reason? Is there a cover up? I mean—”

  Startling her by placing a hand over her mouth, Henry grinned. “Relax, kid.” Chuckling at her glare, he removed his hand and continued, “It’s not a cover up, per se. It’s just that Jack doesn’t want to admit to anyone quite yet that this trip is just a stepping stone. His real target is Gliese 667.”

  “Gliese? But that's twenty-two light years out!”

  Henry nodded. “Right as always, Lore, but can that memory of yours tell me what else is so special about Gliese 667?”

  Henry waited as her eyes defocused, obviously scouring her eidetic memory for the somewhat obscure fact. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her mouth made a little O of surprise.

  “Got there, have you?”

  Startled at the conclusion she had drawn, she managed to squeak out, “It’s the closest system believed to have a planet in the habitable zone. But that means….”

  Henry smirked. He knew she was a bright kid. “Yeah, Jack is trying to find an extra-solar planet suitable for permanent habitation. He won’t admit to it, of—”

  Henry was the one interrupted this time, by a new voice entering the conversation from right behind him, making him jump far higher than Lore's earlier ambush. “Corrupting the poor girl's mind with your tall tales, Henry?”

  Turning and plastering a grin on his face, one that he knew alternately irritated and amused her, Henry came face-to-face with Captain Samantha Matterly. “Sam! First, you shouldn’t surprise me like that. If you and Lore keep it up, I’ll be jumping at shadows soon. Second, they aren’t tall tales. I know Jack far too well for him to slip his little plan by me. He knows it, I know it, and you ought to know it too.”

  Completely ignoring the latter half of his statement, Sam smirked at him. “But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Given up on tormenting Lore? Am I your new favorite toy?”

  Grinning, Sam swung an arm around Lore's shoulders, much to the poor girl's discomfort, and pulled her along towards the mess. “Never! I shall corrupt her eventually. Then we can both gang up on you.”

  “Oh, so it's a recruiting drive, is it? Well, you'll need the help, of course.” Before she could manage more than indignant noises in reply, he hastily added, “Now, why don't we get something to eat? And since you’ve invited yourself along, you can hear the tales of woe from a quartermaster most wroth with us poor minions.”

  Sobering up from her fun, showing once again what Henry swore was a split personality, she groaned and let go of Lore. “That blowhard again? I'm not sure what he was expecting to happen on a prototype ship. It's not like Jack didn't know it was going to have problems. Hell, that's the whole reason
you're here. I told him there was no way I was taking the Nova out of the Sol system without working out more of the bugs. The trouble was I made the mistake of qualifying that with 'Not with my current staff anyway.'” Sam snorted at her naivety, and Henry was inclined to agree. She should have known better. “So he turns around and gets me you, a genius with the rare commodity of infinity drive experience, and lots of it. Plus, Lore here, who blew away even the scores that got you onto the Exploration at nineteen. With my engineering staff bolstered to such a degree, but only on the condition that I left soonest, I was stuck.”

  She smirked. “Of course, I may also have demanded half again the original spare parts, which I may or may not have hidden from the quartermaster.”

  Henry and Lore both looked at her in shock, then Henry frowned. “Are you telling me that you're the reason he's bothering Lore and I three times a week about our spare part usage?”

  Swinging back from serious to mischievous, she stage whispered, “Yep. I can't stand the ass, so I've been letting him think we're going to run low on parts. All while overriding all his attempts to ration them. He turns the most fascinating shades of purple I've ever seen.”

  Henry stared at her with a completely deadpan expression. Holding his hand out to Lore, he asked her, “Lore, your portable, please?”

  Looking a bit startled, Lore nonetheless pulled out the ubiquitous seventeen by twelve centimeter portable that acted as a universal access tool for the crew. She handed it to Henry with a puzzled expression.

  Sam, on the other hand, suddenly looked full of dread. “You wouldn't?”

  Taking the portable from Lore, he smiled a smile for sharks and lawyers and tapped through a few screens. Slowly and firmly bringing down his finger with dramatic flair on the last command entry, he smugly answered. “I would. I've automatically forwarded all his requisition complaints to you. Good luck dealing with him.”

  Sam looked betrayed as he handed the portable back to an exasperated looking Lore. “Damn you, Henry Harper! You're scum. You know that, right?”