Joram turned with a confused expression on his face.
“What are you thinking about?” Kath asked now that she had his attention.
“Well, I don’t know what to make of it. It took no longer than a minute for the paddle to completely disappear. It must have a very weak signal strength to lose contact with the USL that quickly. They probably need all of the power for propulsion and stabilization, huh?”
“But, did you see how the red always does a rapid 90 degree turn just before going blank?” Reyd asked.
“Yeah, I did see the red dot, but we’ll have to review the data to see its actual acceleration.”
All three graduate students turned back to the display. A couple of mission specialists, including Zimmer, were now standing, but a flurry of activity began when the students noticed a brief image on the paddle nine display.
“Wait!” said Reyd, maybe it still has a heartbeat after all. But, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.
“NETWORK?” called out Zimmer firmly.
“Yes, Professor?”
“Please get me the data which we just received from paddle nine. I want its exact location and speed. Everything, NETWORK… just get me all of the data, please.”
“We’ll do, FLIGHT. Give us just a couple of minutes to translate the raw data.”
Zimmer realized that in the fight to regain number nine that paddles seven and eight had been mostly ignored. “CONTROL, it looks like there is movement on seven and eight. Please confirm.”
“FLIGHT, we are seeing very slight down-flow acceleration, but we are noticing significant deviation in cross-sectional location.”
“NETWORK, any abnormal data collection from seven and eight?”
“Plenty of minute particle impact mostly occurring on the under-side of both paddles.”
Zimmer gave a brief exclamation, “CONTROL, try not to lose these… keep them under control!” Then he threw his headset to the desk and raced towards the back of the room.
Bursting into the observation room, the wide-eyed students stood riveted. “Do you see it?” Zimmer announced almost breathless. “Look at the trajectory of the remaining two dots!”
The students did indeed see ‘it’.
“Why they’re moving inside the beam… in a corkscrew fashion!” Kath announced.
Zimmer blurted out “That is the flow of our beam. The particles are swirling around in the beam as they travel down-stream.”
“What could cause that, Professor?” asked Joram.
“I think we are indeed seeing the tail of a fast spinning comet that is spewing off some highly radioactive material. I must get back, but please continue to observe closely, and discuss among yourselves what you make of all of this. We will continue to monitor the trajectory of paddles seven and eight and collect as much impact and radiation data as possible. We’re going to solve this puzzle, Team!”
In a flash, the aging—yet nimble—astronomer, raced back to his position, and placed the headset back on.
The control officer was already speaking, “should be able to control the rate of acceleration, since the direction of seven and eight is much more stable. Signal sent to counter-balance the rapidly increasing rates of cross-sectional rotation.”
Zimmer shook his head as he spoke in dismay, “Are we losing these as well, CONTROL?”
“We are doing our best, Professor, but the comm signal will still require several minutes to arrive.”
Zimmer leaned far back in his seat, closed his eyes, and listened as CONTROL managed to let two more paddles slip away all too quickly. He knew, however that he couldn’t blame his teammates on the control floor. The lack of automatic control calibration that he placed as a requirement on the paddles was denied by some bean counter in Washington D.C., who knew everything there was to know about budgets, and absolutely nothing about what was needed to make a mission succeed. Here, millions had been spent on preparing the mission, and at least one required retrofit on the experiment paddles was expended. Zimmer was confident that with this feature, the paddles would still be collecting data and providing valuable information that would be needed to solve the mystery.
…
The clock on the small conference room wall read 01:25. The smell of steaming coffee permeated throughout as well, as all four individuals sat around a rectangular table, sipping the elixir that they needed to keep them going for the third—and final—round of the mission.
Professor Zimmer heaved a weary sigh and rubbed his blurry eyes. “Ok, so we still have three paddles, Team. As you have no doubt noticed, we have had great difficulty in controlling the first nine as they entered the beam. Because of an oversight in paddle construction, I have no hope that we will keep the final three paddles for any significant amount of time either. How do we best utilize them to understand the beam? I need every thought and idea that you can come up with to help us maximize our learning.”
Reyd offered the first suggestion, “If we aren’t going to have them for much time, then I suggest we ram the beam with one at full speed.”
“What do you think we might learn from this, Mr. Eastman?” Zimmer inquired.
“Maybe we could drive it straight through the beam and have it emerge out the other side. I’d like to see if we can get to the center of the beam.”
“Let’s not forget that the beam is 12000 km wide. The paddle can obtain a safe maximum velocity of 400 km/h. It would take thirty hours to get all the way through, and we haven’t had more than a few minutes with any of the paddles yet. However, I—like you—would love to pentrate as deeply as we can. Perhaps we will get some imagery or sensory data telling us what is in the beam as we get closer to the center.”
“Speaking of the center,” Kath voiced softly yet confidently, “since we know that the beam demonstrates a very turbulent corkscrew flow, I wonder if we get to the center and all will be calm and quiet.”
“Not a bad idea, Miss Mirabelle. But how to get it there? We’ve entered at two different speeds and angles and we can’t seem to get very far into the beam. We could, perhaps, tear through as Mr. Eastman suggests, and decelerate quickly once we near the center—if we can get that far. We’ll keep it in mind.”
Zimmer glanced over at Joram. “Two paddles, two ideas from two team members. What do you say, Joram? If you had full control over paddle number twelve, how would you use it?”
“My idea is similar to Reyd’s… drive it at full speed—”
“Boys,” Kath snorted. “It’s all about speed, isn’t it?”
Joram feigned to ignore her as he fixed his gaze on Zimmer. “Drive it at full speed—upstream.”
Zimmer gave a twitch which looked like an effort not to betray some thought which he had not shared with the team. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and proceeded in a normal tone. “Upstream, Mr. Anders? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean rather than hitting the beam at 90 degrees, I’d like to penetrate the beam at a very shallow angle with the pedal to the metal, Professor.”
Looking intently at his pupil, he queried further. “Why would you want to do that? What do you intend to gain?”
“I—I don’t—well, I guess I don’t really know. Just a gut feeling, you can say.” Anders was hiding something and even at this late hour, his transparency was readily perceived by all.
“C’mon, Joram,” Kath leaned closer towards him. “Tell us what you’re really thinking.”
“Oh, I don’t really know what we should do with the paddle. It’s late, and I’m not thinking clearly,” conceded Joram, attempting to deflect the scrutiny. “Professor, what do you think we should do with the paddle?”
Silence ensued for several moments. Zimmer weighed the question a little, but considered the exchange from Joram even more. Not yet ready to betray his own thoughts yet, or what he suspected to be Joram’s thoughts, he wrapped up the meeting as follows.
“Three paddles… three suggestions. I actually like all of them. At this point, I’d l
ike to start with Mr. Eastman’s proposal. If we can indeed get the paddle all the way through at high speed, we might be able to make even more use of it. Depending on the outcome, we’ll take Miss Mirabelle’s suggestion second, and see if we might not be able to rest a paddle in the center of the beam. If we’re successful, we might be able to keep the paddle there for days in order to collect images and data from the inside. Mr. Anders, your paddle will go last, since it appears to be the most reckless idea of all to go full tilt upstream, and since you have not given us a well-founded reason behind your suggestion—unless you care to do so now.”
With this last phrase, Joram broke off eye contact with Zimmer and looked, instead, at the clock on the wall. He was uncomfortable with the change of expression on Zimmer’s face, and hoped not to give him an opportunity to discern his thoughts. Perhaps if he avoided eye contact, Zimmer would not be able to penetrate his mind.
“All right, then,” Zimmer stated as he stood from his chair, realizing that Joram Anders was not going to reveal himself. “Let’s get back in there for the final push.”
…
The door to the observation room closed. Reyd and Kath unleashed on Joram.
“What was that exchange back there, Joram Anders?” Kath scolded.
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me. There was something fairly tense back there. You, Zimmer?”
Reyd opined on the matter. “Well, yeah. When a college professor asks you a question, it’s usually a good idea to answer.” The last word came out louder than even Reyd had intended.
“Look guys, it’s just late… I’m tired… Besides, I don’t think he really looked very reprimanding of the matter.”
“Oh, come on, Joram,” Kath said. “You have admired Carlton Zimmer since you were practically in diapers. You are realizing your dream of studying under him. Why would you jeopardize your standing with him with this reticence?”
Joram wanted to change the subject and defuse the tension. “Hey, I’ll have you know I was out of diapers by the time I was eight.”
Realizing that his attempted humor didn’t exactly work as well as he would have liked, he tried a more sincere tact. “Look guys, I now know that I shouldn’t have suggested going upstream, because… well, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m sure I’ve lost better judgment this late in the evening.”
“What is the idea, Joram?” Kath implored.
“No, Kath—it’s—please forget it. I’ll tell you someday—I promise—when we can all look back and have a good laugh about it.”
Kath didn’t look convinced.
“I promise,” Joram stated with a tone of finality.
Realizing she wasn’t going to pull it out of him, Kath honored Joram’s last word on the subject. “Ok, ok… I’m sorry to be so pushy about it. Let’s sit down and watch the show, shall we?”
After a brief pause, Reyd tried to loosen up a little bit. “It’s too bad there aren’t any couches in here to lie down on. Paddle eleven is just now being undocked. It’ll be at least a half hour before the paddles are in place for deployment.”
“Hey, I’ll keep an eye out on the progress if you guys want to close your eyes and catch a few winks.” Joram’s offer was genuine and was readily accepted by Reyd, and reluctantly agreed upon by Kath. Both were grateful for the offer and quickly found a position in their seats in which they could refresh themselves for a moment.
Joram slowly paced back and forth along the front of the room, his gaze focused on the mauve carpet that was compressing under his feet. The full-length glass wall made it easy for Zimmer to occasionally peer in. It was clear that Joram was heavily burdened, and Zimmer suspected he knew the reason for his turmoil—particularly if it was due to the same concern which he himself carried with him since earlier in the evening.
The time dragged on for Joram, as he paced and weighed his concerns in his head. “What a ridiculous theory. Why did I ever suggest upstream? Will this change my relationship with Zimmer? Will he look for a replacement on his research team? I didn’t mean to disrespect his authority or intelligence. What a ridiculous theory.”
His mind raced. Time flew by rapidly. He heard a tap on the glass wall separating himself from the control room. Joram looked up, and saw Zimmer point to his eyes and then to his watch, as if to say, “Showtime, Mr. Anders!” Joram looked at the clock on the control room wall and then back to Zimmer with a knowing look on his face. He nodded as he wheeled around to wake Reyd and Kath. The three students resumed their vigilance on the mission as they saw a red dot indicating paddle number ten racing towards the beam. They could see the data set against the background of the yellow flickering image. 384 km/hr. The paddle was at maximum velocity, and was about to penetrate the outer extent of the beam.
The next several minutes proved tense. All remained quiet, breathless, and attentive to see how far the paddle would be able to penetrate the beam. Reyd kept glancing at his watch. So far, none of the paddles had gotten farther than approximately a few miles inside the particle-rich beam.
Exuberantly, he worked the math. “This might just work, Guys! We’re looking at four miles of progress per minute. We’re about ten minutes into the experiment. That’s 40 miles so far”
Kath responded quietly. “Dang it! You spoke to soon, Reyd… the position is degrading.” The red dot was veering downstream rapidly.
On the control room floor, sensors started failing, the image went black, the red dot demonstrated a final 90-degree curved directory, and transmission ceased completely.
Reyd stood up. “There must be some larger debris in there breaking these things up. That’s just got to be the answer.”
Joram rebutted. “I don’t think so, Reyd. None of the sensors have detected anything larger than a small grain of sand. Wouldn’t we start to see some larger objects before a large rock blasts it away? If that theory were true, you’d start to see pea-sized pebbles, then golf-ball sized rocks, and then a basketball offering that would knock it out for good. From sand to large rock without anything else in between? Maybe, but I’d think the odds are highly against it.”
“So what then, Genius?” Reyd’s fatigue induced a hasty and defensive posture.
Joram shook his head. “It would all make sense if the debris were larger, like Reyd proposed. I could totally see the debris start to move the paddle downstream and eventually cause it to break up. But you can’t make that conclusion with the small size of the debris that is impacting these paddles. The math simply doesn’t stick, no matter how fast our sand is moving through this hourglass.”
Zimmer stepped into the room with a dejected look on his face. “Two paddles to go team, and it’s looking like we won’t penetrate this thing far enough. Kath, since Reyd’s paddle could barely scrape the surface, what do you want to do with your paddle now?”
Kath looked down at the floor, and then looked up at Zimmer. “I’ve been thinking a little bit about Deneb, Professor.”
Zimmer raised an eyebrow and wrinkled his forehead in interest. “Me too, Ms. Mirabelle. Along with any number of puzzle pieces that we haven’t yet put together. What do you propose?”
“Well, I’m not sure what to propose, but we haven’t yet found a vastly massive source that could cause enough gravity to distort the light in that manner. Can we do something to explore the gravity of the beam?”
“There doesn’t really seem to be significant gravitational pull, Miss Mirabelle. We’ve navigated several of the paddles to the opposite side of the beam with respect to the USL. The guidance team tells me that there have been no abnormal course corrections due to unexpected gravitational forces.”
“Then what is causing the light bending, and how can we study it?” Kath pondered.
“I’m not sure that we can even see the light bending at close range. I’ve been recording image data from the paddles, and the images seem to indicate no bending of light, but we’ll need to run some computer simulations and rendering to compare with expected results.�
�
After a brief pause, Kath suggested, “Professor, can we go ahead and deploy Joram’s paddle next, and then confer about paddle twelve when we get there?”
“Great idea, Miss Mirabelle,” Zimmer agreed. “We’ll get your paddle in position next, Mr. Anders.”
Joram’s paddle, of course, met a similar fate. After slamming into the beam at full speed in the opposite direction of particle travel, the trajectory curved nearly 180 degrees very quickly towards the direction of the beam’s flow, and the paddle spun wildly out of control before losing contact with mission control.
With one paddle to go, the team consulted sternly over the prospects of collecting any data they thought would be useful.
“I’ve got an idea, Professor,” stated Kath as they conversed. “It seems that just before the demise of each paddle, a very rapid change of course occurs first. Maybe we’re inducing too much stress on the paddles to have their position change so rapidly. As such, I propose that we revisit Joram’s experiment—in reverse.”
“What?” asked Reyd with a condescending tone.
“I think,” started Zimmer with a glare of disdain for the tactless syllable voiced by his pupil, “that Mr. Eastman means, ‘What a great idea!’, but please do explain exactly what you mean, Miss Mirabelle?”
“I’m thinking that we should send the final paddle at full speed, but instead of going upstream, let’s go downstream. The possibility for greater success could be anticipated simply because we’ll be going in the direction of least resistance. So far, we’ve gone straight into the beam, and we’ve gone upstream. We have yet to go downstream.”
Zimmer lauded this suggestion. “Absolutely brilliant! So far, the beam has rejected our efforts to penetrate its realm. Perhaps we could sneak in a paddle-sized particle that simply goes with the flow.”
Looking at his watch, he concluded, “0450 hours, Team. Let’s get this last paddle going. If we can inject it stably into the flow, then we’ll be able to get some rest while we let the fresh morning recruits track its progress.”
Least resistance appeared to be just the secret sauce that was needed for this one last paddle. Particle impact was a bit lighter than with any of the first eleven. But most importantly, as mission control nudged it farther into the beam, they saw it penetrate to depths of 50, 60, 70 miles. Particle impact was growing, but there was reserved optimism among many as this paddle had set a record among all twelve for depth of penetration. There was a growing concern, however, on the part of GUIDANCE.
The Orthogonal Galaxy Page 21