You’d be awestruck and thrilled to learn about the power plants that propel this craft: terrifyingly efficient. I’ve been keeping a close eye on our benevolent captain and I’ve recognized some of the overhead readouts as engine temperatures and fuel capacities…beyond those basic indicators, I haven’t a clue. With no possible help from my VI, Goerathian writing is all Greek to me.
We are travelling at roughly twenty percent light speed. Why do I know this? Because I’ve asked our captain, that’s why. With a bit of arithmetic, I estimate we’re travelling at about one hundred thirty-seven million miles per hour, roughly three and a third billion miles per day. With the distance of an AU coming in at about ninety-three million miles, we would get from the Earth to the sun, and half way back, in an hour. To put this in perspective, a modern-outfitted ESCOM transport would take over four months to reach Mars. At our velocity, we’d do the trip in fifteen minutes. What, exactly, the science is behind these engines remains unknown, but perhaps our friendly droid will be able to piece this puzzle together.
Otherwise, I’m fine, Dad. I thought I might be making my grand exit back there on Asimios, but as always, outcome is a slave to circumstance.
One last note: the aberration of light is astonishing at this velocity. Yes an amorphous white ball hovers in the center of our visual when the captain opens up the bridge windows. This is at twenty percent light speed, mind you. Apparently though, you’ll be thrilled to hear, at light speed, if I understand Oreg correctly, the whole aberration phenomenon falls apart and the stars surround the traveler once more. I hate to admit it here, but your theory might have been correct. At light speed, something happens that we haven’t understood. More on this later...
Sincerely,
Avery
Again, Graf leaned back and took a breath. His father was now in the room, smiling his soft smile and staring across at him in the old father image he remembered. Gray hair and slightly hunched, the image he carried from the months before his death. But Graf was not on Earth when his father died. He had been on Asimios. He only had the images of his father that were sent as he approached death. Now, for some reason, those images seemed real, like he had been there with his father. Graf’s mind was playing tricks on him. He was starting to see what he wanted to see, the way he wanted things to be…the way he wished things had happened.
As the time for the portal opening neared, Graf and Oreg were concluding their twenty-fourth chess match (Oreg took the previous game) and Oreg was preparing a final attack on Graf’s king when an info squirt came through that forced Oreg to put the game on hold. They had been observing an increase in ship traffic and there were a couple instances, in Graf’s opinion, when a collision with their ship was immanent.
—It’s a damned parking lot out there, Graf said hotly as he stood and stretched his legs.
—So many ships, Miranda said. Thousands.
—I never would have imagined this, Graf said, his eyes wide as he gazed out of the windows while resting he weight against one of the bridge chairs.
As activity around the portal increased, so had Consortium presence. Security patrols consisted of two or three dagger ships that produced neon emergency light bursts whenever they responded to trouble.
—I’ve requested that a
Graf was surprised by Oreg’s offer. I think I would very much like that, he said. What do I have to do? I mean, I don’t really have anything to wear. When I left the Asimios Station, socializing wasn’t the first thing on my mind.
—We will find you some suitable clothing, Oreg said. Miranda, Oreg continued as he turned to look down at the droid who was standing with them on the bridge. It isn’t safe for you on the tower. A non-Consortium droid will draw attention…or worse. It is best if you remain here.
Miranda gave a small bow.
Just then, in the distance, the torus bloomed with light.
—They’ve begun to power the portal, Oreg chirruped as he stepped forward to look through the windows. The others stood next to him and observed the giant ring. Once all the ships have entered from the other side, Oreg added, it will be our turn.
—How long will that take? Graf asked.
—Not long, Oreg huffed. He drew up the holo and brought the torus into magnification. Lights wheeled and flashed on the perimeter of the circle while an iris of light grew outward until the entire mouth became a looking glass into a distant corner of space.
—It is light form Gorhamash, our home star, Oreg said with affection.
The portal was now open and for a moment it seemed that everyone in the system was stunned by the spectacle—activity came to a near stop while thousands of beings gazed upon the hole punched into a distant part of the galaxy. A pair of small craft zipped through the portal mouth; then something strange happened: a long and ominous shadow blotted out the light from the other end. Something massive and dark was gliding through the opening.
—A Consortium battlecruiser, Oreg hissed while following the dark shape as it moved slowly through the ring. This is unfortunate, he said. A moment later Oreg’s ship alerted them to the approach of a vessel and Oreg collapsed the holo and turned his attention to Graf. Come with me, doctor, he said. He took Graf by the hand and pulled him down the hall.
—I do like a softer boot, Graf said as his chubby body hurried to match Oreg’s long stride. I have flat feet, you see…
Beyond Asimios - Part 4 Page 3