Going Interstellar

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by Les Johnson




  BAEN BOOKS

  by Les Johnson

  with Travis S. Taylor:

  Back to the Moon

  edited wth Jack McDevitt:

  Going Interstellar

  GOING INTERSTELLAR

  This work contains fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in the short fiction within this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Les Johnson and Jack McDevitt

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  “Introduction,” © 2012 by Les Johnson, “Choices,” © 2012 by Les Johnson, “A Country For Old Men,” © 2012 by Ben Bova, “Antimatter Starships,” © 2012 by Dr. Gregory Matloff, “Lucy,” © 2012 by Jack McDevitt, “Lesser Beings,” © 2012 by Dr. Charles E. Gannon, “Fusion Starships,” © 2012 by Dr. Gregory Matloff, “Project Icarus,” © 2012 by Dr. Richard Obousy, “Design Flaw,” © 2012 by Louise Marley, “Twenty Lights to ‘The Land of Snow’” © 2012 by Michael Bishop, “Solar and Beamed Energy Sails,” © 2012 by Les Johnson, “The Big Ship and the Wise Old Owl,” © 2012 by Sarah A. Hoyt, “Siren Song,” © 2012 by Mike Resnick

  All NASA images and graphics are used on a nonexclusive basis, and their use does not explicitly or implicitly convey NASA's endorsement of commercial goods, services, or any written statements of fact, fiction, or opinion, including the contents of Going Interstellar.

  Illustration, “Introduction,” by Les Johnson background image courtesy NASA. © 2012 NASA.

  Figure 1, “Antimatter Spaceships,” by Gregory Matloff courtesy NASA. © 2012 NASA, Image ID: MSFC-9906272.

  Figure 2, “Fusion Starships,” by Gregory Matloff courtesy NASA. © 2012 NASA, Image ID: MSFC-9906378.

  Figure 3, “Fusion Starships,” by Gregory Matloff courtesy NASA. © 2012 NASA, Image ID: MSFC-9906399.

  Figure 4, Starship with 24 Drop Tanks (Midflight Configuration) © 2012 Geoff Landis. Nonexclusive world reproduction right granted.

  Figure 5, “Solar and Beamed Energy Sails,” by Les Johnson courtesy NASA. © 2012 NASA, Image source: http://www.nasa.gov/centers/marshall/multimedia/exploration_gallery.html.

  Figure 6, “Solar and Beamed Energy Sails,” by Les Johnson courtesy Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency via Japanese Space Forum. © 2012 JAXA. Image source: http://www.jaxa.jp/press/2010/06/20100616_ikaros_e.html. Nonexclusive world reproduction right granted. This use does not explicitly or implicitly convey JAXA’s endorsement of commercial goods, services or any written statements of fact, fiction, or opinion, including the contents of Going Interstellar.

  Figure 7, “Solar and Beamed Energy Sails,” by Les Johnson © 2012 Hughes Research Laboratories, LLC. Nonexclusive world reproduction right granted.

  Figure 8, “Solar and Beamed Energy Sails,” by Les Johnson © 2012 Les Johnson. Nonexclusive world reproduction right granted.

  Baen Publishing Enterprises

  P.O. Box 1403

  Riverdale, NY 10471

  www.baen.com

  ISBN: 978-1-4516-3778-6

  Cover art by Sam Kennedy

  First Baen printing, June 2012

  Distributed by Simon & Schuster

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: TK

  Printed in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  DEDICATION

  To Jennifer and Gail,

  My sisters—with love.

  Les Johnson

  ***

  To Matt Campbell,

  Who, if we get to Mars,

  will probably be first out of the ship.

  Jack McDevitt

  FOREWORD

  As a child I watched Neil Armstrong walk on the Moon. Shortly thereafter I began to catch reruns of Star Trek on television and from that point forward I was hooked. Star Trek, Star Wars, The Foundation Trilogy, Rendezvous with Rama, and others both inspired and challenged me. I studied physics and eventually landed my dream job at NASA. Midway through my career (so far), I went out on a professional limb and found myself researching propulsion systems for interstellar flight and having the coolest job title of my career, “NASA Manager for Interstellar Propulsion Research.” That’s no longer my job title. (But I kept the business cards!)

  Unfortunately, that was also the end of NASA actually funding interstellar propulsion research. There have been a few minor studies since then, mostly performed by universities, but without serious investment. While some of these studies may have made important contributions toward our eventually becoming an interstellar species, the funding has been too low to actually help make it happen. Alas.

  A few years later I was taking one of those management courses in which you have to create a poster that describes how you want to be remembered. The goal was to remind us that there is more to life than our work and, while I agree completely and I try to be both a devoted husband to my wife and a dedicated father to my children, it would be impossible to take the futurist and space advocate out of my life and then expect me to still be “me.” So when it came time to present my poster, I showed the class a drawing of our interstellar neighborhood and my sincere wish—that when the history of the first human colony on a habitable planet circling one of our nearby stars is written, that my name will at least be mentioned in a footnote. That’s it. A footnote—and what a footnote I hope it will be!

  —Les Johnson

  INTRODUCTION

  What’s out there? The answer to that question involves some practical issues. Are we alone or is there someone else to whom we might one day be able to say hello? What will we do to ensure the survival of the human race if a large asteroid comes our way? Is there enough room on this planet for all of us and for the millions more who continue to arrive regularly?

  Some of us humans aren’t content to stay in one place very long. There’s something about a crowded environment that makes us restless. We want to move on, to see new things, to have more space and to go places, to paraphrase Captain Kirk, where nobody’s already hanging out. The problem is that we’ve just about filled all the available locations on Earth.

  Some of us are satisfied living our lives using essentially the same zip code we were born into. We may never really care to look above the rooftops. But many of us are curious about what’s out beyond the next village. About what’s over the horizon. We want to know if there are others like us, peering out at the stars with their telescopes, also wondering if they are alone. Someone with whom we might sit down and enjoy a pizza and trade notions about how the universe works. And maybe one day reminisce about visits to distant stars and worlds that light up at night.

  Another concern is that our existence as a species might be short-lived unless we provide some insurance for ourselves. Unless we do something to spread our seed beyond the world that gave us birth. The fossil record is full of species that were at one time masters of the planet. Our existence is but a small part of the planet’s history and that history has not been kind to many of its previous inhabitants. How might we go extinct?

  Seriously? There are a number of possibilities. Supernova fallout is one. All we’d need is the collapse of an unstable star in the general neighborhood to bathe us in radiation. (It’s even possible such a collapse has already happened, but the light and the shock wave just haven’t gotten here yet.) Or a brown dwarf could drift into the system and collide with the Sun. Lights would go out and real estate values in Florida would plunge. We might do the damage ourselves by waging nuclear war. And we’re well on our way to overpopulating the planet.

  We therefore ha
ve a strong argument for moving some of us into space and out of the immediate danger zone. Looking at history, and at what’s going on in the world today, we know that the course of events is utterly unpredictable and potentially lethal. Where, then, do we go? And how do we get there?

  There’s no place within the solar system that would allow the existence of a self-sustaining colony. So we have to look beyond its limits.

  We’ve asked a diverse set of science fiction authors to speculate on what an interstellar voyage based on real physics might actually look like. We also asked some scientists and engineers who think about such things as interstellar travel to weigh in on how it might be accomplished. You hold the result in your hands: an anthology of adventures replete with danger, ingenuity, hope, love and loss, with a surprise or two thrown in. And a few essays describing exotic strategies that might one day allow us to reach the stars. Beware: One of our guidelines for both the fiction and the non-fiction is that any method of traveling to the stars has to be based on what we currently know about how the universe works. You won’t find faster-than-light drives, hyperjumps or star gates within these pages.

  For those interested in interstellar travel and wondering what they can do to help make it happen we highly recommend you find a way to get involved with the Tau Zero Foundation. Please check out their website for more information: http://www.tauzero.aero/

  Ad Astra!

  —Les Johnson and Jack McDevitt

  CHOICES

  Les Johnson

  Interstellar flight is the most audacious of human dreams. Barring a Star Trek breakthrough, the voyage will require a high level of technology, and people willing to get on board for a destination so far distant in time and space that most of them will not live to see it. We can only admire the talent of those who might make it possible, and the courage of those heading out for Rigel or wherever. Despite all our efforts, the technology may, at some critical point, break down. So we will of course build in as much redundancy as we can. Unfortunately we cannot do the same for the passengers.

  Les recently completed his first novel, Back to the Moon (Baen, 2010), a collaboration with Travis Taylor.

  ***

  The air was thick and putrid. Peter Goss slogged through knee-deep water with a broken branch in one hand and a machete in the other. The swamp was brightly lit by the reflected light of the two moons hanging low on the horizon. All he could think of was survival. Mosquito-like creatures the size of small birds dove at him constantly, ignoring his wild swatting. Their sting hurt. Beneath the surface he imagined large creatures watching and waiting for him to slip and fall so they could pounce and enjoy a tasty human delicacy for that night’s dinner.

  Relentlessly, he moved forward. No distraction would stop him tonight. There, just ahead and across this last bit of waterlogged purgatory, was the tower. Rising out of the swamp at least twenty-five stories, it dominated the horizon and demanded investigation. Made of what looked like stone, which he knew would have been all but impossible given its size, the tower taunted him.

  Goss stopped. And listened. He heard only the sounds of the night, the buzzing of the monster-mosquitoes and the distant splashes of other creatures stirring the waters.

  He was only a few hundred yards from the tower, a small distance compared to that which he had already covered, but now it seemed distant. His muscles hurt and he was tired.

  The swamp ahead looked much like the swamp behind, but looks could be deceiving. Two of his compatriots were now dead because of this place and he was not about to join them. He whacked one of the oversized mosquitoes with the branch, raised his machete, and started forward.

  The tower was dark and quiet. Goss intended no harm; he was there to find out what it held, why it was there, and, if possible, who had built it. For on this water world, the tower was the only artificial structure in evidence.

  Three weeks ago, Goss and his crewmates had arrived on this planet because their long-range instruments told them that it had an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere suitable for human life. Though planets seemed to be plentiful everywhere, those with breathable atmospheres and temperate surface conditions were very, very rare. That’s why he and his two colleagues had taken a shuttle from the mothership to investigate.

  From space, the world was a brilliant blue that reminded him of Earth. Except that instead of the familiar landforms surrounded by water, the entire planet was covered by water, with only a few islands dotting its seas. It was on one of these islands that they’d spotted the tower, standing alone. It had been a glorious moment, looking down at the structure, the first evidence anywhere that humans were not alone. And of course, still in a state of shock, they’d gone down.

  Goss lost the first of his crewmates, Charlie Edward, when he slipped on slick, moss-covered rock, pitched forward, and landed on his head. Not a graceful way to die. It had happened so fast that he hadn’t even had time to throw out his hands. By the time Goss reached him, Charlie was gone.

  The other crewmate, Julie Gold, died after her leg was ripped off by an alligator-like creature that had been lying in wait beneath the surface of the water in an area they had mistakenly assumed to be safe enough for a short break. All Goss remembered was the rage that overcame him after seeing his friend writhe in the water, trying to shake off what had attached itself to her right leg. Goss had hurried to her rescue, but the thing had ripped her apart within seconds. He’d brought the machete down on its armored neck again and again until it collapsed.

  He’d held Julie in his arms while she bled. And she’d looked at him in the eerie moonlight. “Pete,” she’d said, “what do you think is in the tower?”

  They had been her last words.

  And he’d gazed across the swamp to where the tower stood. “I’m sorry we ever saw it,” he told her. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth the price.”

  He crossed the remaining distance to the tower and the stone-like wall that comprised its base. He was still knee-deep in water when he touched the wall and looked up at the immense structure. The wall was made of a light-colored stone and it might almost have been medieval. Below the waterline the stone was, as one might expect, covered in mildew and moss. Out over the water were the two distinct shadows caused by the twin moons. Every movement Goss made was instantly mirrored by the two shadows off to his side.

  That takes some getting used to.

  Seaweed clung to his boots and pant legs. He circled the base of the tower. Part way around he came across a door. And an inscription. He caught his breath. It was raised lettering on a metallic plaque. He pressed his fingertips gently on the characters. Wondered who had been here. What it said. Here we came in search of a new world. And found only a swamp.

  He smiled. Maybe, Martin & Cable, Attorneys at Law.

  How long ago had it been?

  Would they have welcomed him?

  He pulled his hand back and looked at it as if it were the first time he’d ever seen it.

  Peter Goss awoke with a start. He was lying on his hibernation bed with his right arm held straight out, up, and in front of him. He was still staring at his hand. For a few moments he drifted back into the swamp and stood before the mysterious tower, and then he was back here, wherever “here” was, again.

  He was cold. And he lay naked, partially submerged in what looked and felt like a bathtub filled with raspberry Jell-O. He tilted his head slowly from side to side, as if doing so would dislodge a memory and allow him to remember where he was. These new surroundings looked more and more familiar but he wasn’t yet quite sure why.

  He coughed, and raised his head and looked around. This was not the tower. And certainly not the swamp. First of all, the tub in which he found himself was but one of many lined up along the floor. In fact, he saw at least fifteen tubs around him.

  And each was occupied. By someone.

  By another human being.

  A memory was slowly returning.

  Hibernation. Sleeping during the journey and being
awakened when their new home world was reached. Now he remembered.

  Peter Goss was on board the interstellar colony ship New Madrid bound for the Epsilon Eridani star system ten light years from Earth. As in his dream, he was a member of the initial survey team that was to awaken and scout the environment of their new home while the rest of the crew, and the fifteen thousand colonists, were being awakened.

  Goss slowly lifted himself to rest on his right elbow. The other people were gone. Part of the dream. Still, he shouldn’t be alone. He wasn’t supposed to be the first to wake up. The ship’s commander, first officer and two medical officers should already be up and about, supervising the awakening of the survey crews to begin their mission. Waking the colonists would come later.

  The ship was quiet. The only sound Goss heard was his own breathing and the sloshing of the liquigel in which he found himself. As he pulled his naked form out of the tank, he realized that the liquigel had probably formed the basis for his swamp during the hibernation. Slowly and with great care, Goss sat up and put his feet on the floor. Mindful that he had probably been in suspended animation for perhaps hundreds of years, he wasn’t sure that his muscles and bones would be strong enough to sustain his weight in the simulated fifty percent Earth gravity in which he found himself.

  He stood.

  To his great relief, he found that the electrostimulation of his muscles and bones had kept them healthy and fully functional throughout his long sleep. Just as the electrostimulation had kept his body functioning, the virtual reality generator had kept his mind from atrophying. His “adventure” on the water world with the tower had been just that. A machine-induced training session to keep his mind functioning through the centuries required to cross the vast interstellar distances between Earth and the intended colony’s destination.

 

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