“Okay,” he started, wondering if he should offer layman’s terms…and then decided that he shouldn’t, “there’s a particle principle that was theorized by Telson Tagooky back in my day. He said that every particle had an exact copy of itself somewhere else in space. If you spun the particle next to you, the one you couldn’t see would spin too.”
“How’d he know thith?” said Hank.
“Tests, I guess,” answered Geezer with a shrug. “Anyway, I thought that if it could be done on a particle scale, why couldn’t it be done on a ship scale?”
“And you came to the conclusion that it couldn’t because a ship is a series of particles that are all combined,” said Harr, “and, while they may have exact copies living somewhere in space, those copies would not likely be in a combined location as their counterparts are here.”
Geezer couldn’t blink, but he would have. “Well said, big dog!”
“My father studied Tagooky’s work.”
“Right, well, anyway, by applying his work to the works of Durin Bweeks, who cited that it appeared possible to force a specific combination of distant particles through the use of a temporal field lobe tweakerfleb”—a term that Geezer had made up on the spot—“I thought that maybe I could manage to make all of the remote particles of the ship show up wherever I wanted. Assuming I could do that, I could then flip a switch and we’d be in that ship instead of this one.”
“Interesting hypothesis,” said Captain Harr. “I don’t know enough about the depths of this research to comment intelligently, especially not the part regarding the tweakerfleb.”
“What would happen to this copy of the ship?” asked Sandoo.
“It’d dissipate,” Geezer said. “The particles would just go their merry way until called upon again to coalesce.”
“You’ve tested this?” asked Harr.
“No, honcho. Just theoretical at this point.”
“How long would it take to put together a test?”
“A few hours, I guess.”
“Do it,” Harr said. “Like I said, I don’t want to grow old and die in this damn ship. If you can figure out a way to shorten our travel time drastically, I’m all for it.”
“Can I use Hank?”
“Use whomever you need. We’re launching out as soon as Rear Admiral Conster finishes having this ship outfitted with more explosives than you can imagine.”
“Exthplothiveth?”
Captain Harr began to explain the details of the mission.
OUTFITTING THE SHIP
Harr stood watch as the weapons were fitted onto The SSMC Reluctant. By the time they were done, he thought for certain that his ship was bowing slightly from the weight. If it wasn’t the case that they’d be practically weightless while zipping around in the vacuum of space, Harr would have tacked on a few years on their travel time due to drag.
Fortunately they were already in space dock so he didn’t have to worry about the lift out of the atmosphere while carrying all that additional poundage. Even then, he had to admit, the Reluctant would barely notice the strain considering the upgrades that Geezer had done on the engines over the last year.
The main door to the hangar opened and Harr groaned to himself while seeing that Rear Admiral Conster was thumping toward him. It was a rarity for Harr to miss Parfait, but at the moment, he sort of did.
“Captain Harr,” said Conster while purposefully climbing the ladder, “I expect this launch to be done by the book.”
“Sir,” Harr said, snapping a salute.
“To the T, Captain. Each switch flipped and every knob turned will be done exactingly and with purpose. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are the launch rules for this vessel?”
“There are none, sir,” Harr said, staying at attention. “The Reluctant is the first non-tracked ship in decades, sir. All propulsion-based documentation was relegated to the archives.”
Conster leaned in with a smirk and said, snottily, “Then dig it out, Captain. I want this done by the book. By. The. Book. Are we clear?”
“Crystal clear, sir,” Harr said, wanting to reach out to accidentally shove the rear admiral off the platform.
“Good. Weapons fully prepped and installed?”
“Installation is proceeding on schedule, sir.” Harr checked his timepiece and added, “due for completion in 37 minutes, sir.”
“It’ll have to do,” said Conster, checking his watch as well. “Back in my day we’d have been 37 minutes into the launch sequence by now. Soldiers are sloppy and lazy these days, Captain Harr. I mean, just look at the graffiti on this ship!”
“Agreed, sir,” Harr said, nodding his head. “The Historical Preservation Society disallowed my request to give the Reluctant a fresh coat of paint, sir.”
“It’s downright disgusting, Captain. What we should do is drop one of these Building Topplers right on their heads.”
“I believe that would be illegal, sir.”
“Not in my day, it wouldn’t have been.”
“No, sir.”
“Your crew is ready?”
Harr sure hoped so. He hadn’t see Ensign Jezden since last evening, which wasn’t exactly odd since Platoon F had been in the process of awaiting orders for the last two months. Being that they were now scheduled for departure, Harr was rather hoping that Commander Sandoo would have gotten everyone to report by now.
“Ready as they’re going to be, sir,” Harr said, carefully.
“Damn well better be, Captain,” Conster said with his patented sneer. Then he gave the ship one last glance, grunted, mumbled a few choice swear words, and clomped back down the stairs and off toward the main entrance.
“Yo, Captain,” said a voice that made Harr jump, jolting him from watching the departing rear admiral.
“Jezden,” Harr said, wondering where he’d come from, “it’s about time you got here. We’re about an hour away from lift off.”
“I know,” Jezden said in “chill out, dude” sort of way. “Sandoo hit me up on my comm and told me the deal.”
“Well, where the hell have you been?”
“You don’t want to know, sir,” Jezden replied coolly.
Harr wanted to press the point, but Jezden was likely correct in his assumption. Instead he just sniffed derisively, feeling suddenly like a younger version of Conster, and then motioned Jezden inside.
The sound of clanking rang throughout the ship as the missiles were locked into place. With all the firepower that Conster had slapped onto the ship, it’d be a wonder if they made it to their destination in one piece.
Jezden slipped off to his quarters to drop off his bag while Harr strode down to engineering to check on Geezer’s progress.
“How’s it coming, Geezer?”
“Good timing, prime,” Geezer replied. “We’re just about ready to test this baby out.”
Harr looked down at Geezer’s workbench and noted a palm-sized model of The SSMC Reluctant. The details were pretty impressive, all the way down to the red text along the port side that read, “Have a shitty day!”
“Nice model,” Harr said.
“Thanks, chief,” Geezer said and then he lifted it up, scanned the underside and made a quick connection check with his main screen. “Ready.”
“What’s this test going to do?” asked Harr.
“It’ll show whether or not the G.3.3.Z.3.R. Optimal Neutrino Escape Drive is working.”
“Settled on a name for it, I see,” Harr said.
“Like it?”
“I’m sure it’s fine, even if it makes very little sense and has absolutely nothing at all to do with the actual technology you were describing earlier.”
“Caught that, eh?”
“Indeed.”
“What I needed was to somehow bring my name into it and then give it a special ring when you used the acronym.”
Harr looked up and about, piecing it together. Ah, he thought, it would be referred to as the GONE Driv
e.
“Clever.”
“Thanks. I had originally used G.3.3.Z.3.R. Optimal Neutrino Acceleration Drive, but Hank Moon pointed out that the acronym spelled GONA—”
“Yes, I can hear it already,” said Harr. “How is this test going to work, exactly?”
“Oh, that’s easy. We just pick a point in space, press this button, and see what happens.”
“That’s it?”
Geezer shrugged.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Fine,” Harr said, feeling that he’d rather have his world end at the press of a button than through a slow deterioration process that would mark the length of their journey if the GONE Drive didn’t function. “Proceed.”
Geezer reached into the cabinet next to his workstation and pulled out a pair of goggles, handing them to Harr.
“Am I going to need these?”
“Never know,” Geezer replied, noncommittally.
“Shouldn’t you know?” said Harr, directly.
“Probably.”
“Great.”
“Okay, big dog,” said Geezer, rubbing his hands together, “where should we transport this puppy?”
“I’ll leave that in your capable hands, Geezer. Let’s just get to it, shall we?”
Geezer nodded and covered his eyes with one hand and then pecked at his screen with the other. When he looked at the screen he said, “Ooh, perfect. It’s about seven light years away.”
“That’s pretty far,” Harr said, shocked.
“That’s an understatement, cap’n.”
“Continue, please.”
“Commencing in T-Minus 99—”
“99? Seriously? How about T-Minus 3?”
“You’re no fun,” Geezer said, but acquiesced. “And in 3…2…1…”
He pressed the button. Harr scrunched his eyes closed while covering his ears. But he didn’t hear anything and there was no flash of light or any visual response, unless it had been so minute that it couldn’t break through his eyelids.
Peeking out, he looked at where the model had been.
“It’s gone?”
“Very observant, honcho. You should consider a career change. Science is always on the lookout for sharp people.”
“Where is it?”
“My guess is about 7 light years away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not in the least, sire,” Geezer said, scanning over his instruments.
“So there’s no way to know if it worked or not?”
“Well,” Geezer said, stopping his work and looking questioningly at Harr, “it’s not here any more, so that pretty much indicates that it worked.”
“No, that indicates that it disappeared. We don’t know if it showed up 7 light years away or not, do we?”
“Got me there, cap’n,” Geezer said. “But, if you’re a betting man, I’d say you’d have a solid wager in believing that it did.”
“Can you bring it back?”
“Nope. I’d have to be there for that to happen.”
“Right,” Harr said, shaking his head. “So you’ve essentially made a little model disappear but you have no clue whether or not it arrived at its intended destination or not. More so, even if it did arrive, you have no evidence that it did so in one piece.”
“That’s about the gist of it.”
“And yet I’m supposed to trust this technology of yours to be used on The Reluctant and all of her crew?”
“Or you can spend the next fifty years getting to our destination. It doesn’t matter to me, chief, but, then again, I don’t age like you do.”
“Right.”
* * *
Seven light years away, the model of The SSMC Reluctant appeared in a field.
The people of that planet stood, on average, roughly 25 millimeters tall. To them, the ship was monstrous. They studied the ship, putting their best people on understanding its purpose and how it worked, but they could never get it to move.
Then, one day they had a breakthrough. By connecting an engine to the rear compartment, it was theorized that they could indeed have liftoff, which would allow them to fly into the great unknown, bringing the majority of their community with them.
“Are you certain this will work?” said the president of the community.
“I stake my life on it!” said the lead scientist.
“And the lives of everyone else,” noted the president.
“Precisely.”
90 of the population stepped into the ship, bringing only the bare necessities with them to survive their first foray into the ship. 10 were left behind, just in case something went awry.
Those 10 people consisted of one man and nine women. The thinking was that if something went wrong, the man would be able to systematically impregnate all the women and bring their civilization back again. There had been countless male volunteers who offered to stay behind and help, should the need arise, but the president was very clear that only one was needed.
The next morning the ship took off, rising higher and higher in the air.
The crew was a buzz with excitement, as was the president.
Everyone on the ground stood in shock as the ship that was carrying their countrymen suddenly disappeared in a blink.
Everyone, that is, except for the solitary man who stood amongst 9 women. He could not help but smile at the potentiality of his future.
THE LAUNCH
The captain stood on the bridge, looking over his crew of androids as their hands jumped about in a flurry of activity.
Departure was five minutes past due, and Harr was expecting a communique at any moment from Rear Admiral Conster reminding him of that fact. In an effort to beat Conster to the punch, Harr had Sandoo post a requisition for 25 additional sidearms. Knowing Conster, this would be an acceptable reason to delay.
“Sidearms are on board, sir,” Sandoo chimed through the comm.
“Thank you, Commander. Join us on the bridge, pronto.”
“On my way up.”
Harr waited one additional minute until Sandoo arrived, during which time he’d asked for status checks on engines from Geezer. The robot asked to just exit using his new GONE Drive, but Harr wanted to keep the technology secret until they’d had a chance to check everything out. This meant that they needed to use general propulsion until they were out of scanning range.
“Main comm, open a channel to Station Command.”
“Channel opened, sir.”
“Station Command,” Harr said, looking over the document that Lieutenant Laasel had found from the archives, “this is The SSMC Reluctant.”
“Reluctant,” came back the voice on the other end, “this is Station Command.”
“Requesting departure clearance.”
“Destination?”
Harr glanced at his pad. “2391.1912 in the Emek Sector.”
“Departure clearance granted, Reluctant.”
“Confirmed,” said Harr.
“Channel to remain on line for the duration of departure, Reluctant.”
“Affirmative,” replied Harr, unhappily, before turning his attention to the document again. “Engineering, disengage couplers on fore and aft gear.”
“You got it, honcho.”
Harr groaned, looking over at Sandoo pleadingly. Sandoo made a direct contact to Geezer, whispered something harsh, and then turned back and nodded at Harr.
“Sorry, sir,” said Geezer in a firm voice. “One of the ensigns jumped on the comm. He’s been…uh…grounded, sir.”
That didn’t help.
“Are the coupler’s disengaged, Engineering Chief Geezer?”
“Disengaged, sir.”
“Bring engines on line.”
The ship rumbled, shaking slightly until the dampeners kicked in.
“Engines active, sir.”
“Helm, steady at one pulse through the main clearance.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
The
SSMC Reluctant lifted off the deck and began a steady press for space. Since she wasn’t on one of the rails, she had to navigate directly through the doors. Fortunately, the android that was manning the helm was more than qualified for the job.
Glancing at the document, Harr said, “Station Command, The SSMC Reluctant is approaching main clearance.”
“Roger that, Reluctant.”
They cleared the bay without fuss, slipping out into the darkness of space.
“Departure complete, Station Command,” said Harr.
“And?”
“And…” Harr scanned over the page, looking for what he may have missed. Couplers, engines, destination data, opened channel, exiting the main door…oh…there it was. He took a deep breath and said, “And I bid you a wonderful day, reminding you that you have the pleasure to serve in the greatest military that the universe knows.”
“Station Command bids you and your crew an excellent journey,” came the response, verbatim from the document, “and hope that you meet with adventure and joy.”
“Peachy,” Harr said, following the next line in the document.
“Peachy,” Station Command answered, in turn. “Station Command out.”
“SSMC Reluctant, out.”
PREPPING TO BE GONE
“Shit, shit, shit,” Geezer said as he walked from section to section, checking all of his connections.
“What’th wrong?” asked Hank.
“Nothing yet,” answered Geezer, “but I’m sure something bad will pop up, so I’m just practicing.”
“Doeth that really help?”
“You’d be surprised,” Geezer said with a nod. “Check out relays 9 and 17 on the boards back there, will ya?”
Geezer made sure that Hank was in the right spot before he got back to checking connections. The robot had to admit that, for an android, Hank was pretty useful. Geezer didn’t quite understand the purpose of multiple personalities in an android, but he figured it was some odd human requirement or something.
“Thit, thit, thit,” said Hank.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing yet,” answered Hank.
Geezer shook his head as Ensign Jezden strode into the room.
Platoon F: Pentalogy Page 16