A Spacetime Tale

by J. Benjamin

  In Admiral Perez’s office, she looked outside her glass walls as rows of lights and other smart-glass walls shut down. Her own office stayed at full energy. High Command’s systems were to be at full power at all times. For spacetime sequences, that included the command center, where gammanauts were effectively floating vegetables until their consciousness returned.

  In the fighter/bomber bay that straddled decks 60–64, two dozen of GSF’s most excellent star pilots hopped into the cockpits of the GSF Lancer fighters awaiting them. Their task was to protect Space Station Sagan while several of its weapons systems were powered down for the sequence. One by one, each fighter left the gravity of the station and dispatched to defensive formations around the Sagan.

  Inside the heart of the station, the internal core rotated fifteen percent faster to speed up the nuclear fusion process and produce the necessary energy for the event. Despite this, the diverters absorbed the excess power with ease.

  Beyond the thick walls surrounding the core, the flow of energy made its way toward the tip of the dome. It was here where the station’s main beam cannons stood at the ready to focus this energy for scientific purposes. As the power made its way toward the beams, the vibrations from the energy surge could be felt throughout the station.

  Admiral Perez sat at her desk and watched as her photographs, stationary, and ornaments shook along with the station. Captain Starling stood in front of her with an all-too-familiar suitcase.

  “Admiral. The esoteric technologies football. It is already set to spacetime sequence mode and awaits your orders,” Cade told her. He laid the suitcase on the desk and popped it open to face her.

  On the inside of the football was a live-screen showing the area above the dome. To the right of that screen, another screen showing scrolling text of the energy levels and state of the sequence. Above both screens was a marquee that read ‘IDLE’ in digital red letters. The lower half of the suitcase was a keyboard and to the right of that, a bright red button. Admiral Perez needed no explanation as to its purpose.

  “Under my authority, I am ordering a spacetime event to commence in three… two… one!” She pushed the red button. Immediately, the marquee changed from ‘IDLE’ to ‘INITIALIZING.’

  They glanced at one other, and there was total silence. Time stood still. Five seconds had not fully passed before Isla was knocked from her seat. This time, the station vibrated and shook far more violently than before. All throughout Space Station Sagan, soldiers, engineers, tourists, all gripped hard surfaces and held firm as the powerful vibrations shook them off their feet. In the spacetime command center, the three gammanauts stayed perfectly still in the air while the environment around them shifted back and forth with the rest of the station.

  The shaking continued while the beam cannons at the tip of the station began to accumulate energy. Then, the vibrations altogether ceased as powerful blasts of light ripped through each of the eight beam cannons atop the station. Loud and bright, and aimed in the direction of Wolf 482, the beams stretched for several miles and terminated at the center of the particle acceleration ring that was in geosynchronous lock with the station.

  In the space of the accelerator ring, powerful electromagnetic currents concentrated the energy to a collision point to create a Casimir effect. That, combined with the vacuum of space, allowed for negative-density energy. In short, it provided for a stable wormhole to exist, as long as the lasers continued their steady flow from the Sagan. With the careful calculations of the station’s advanced AI systems, the particle accelerator was able to calculate the coordinates, energy output, and properties necessary to create a spacetime bend from Earth to as close to Wolf 482 as possible, preferably Kennedy.

  A wormhole slowly emerged in the vacuumed space of the ring. It was too small for even the smallest of molecules to pass. That meant no humans nor spacecraft could cross the bridge. However, for the levels of bandwidth necessary to produce spacetime communications, the wormhole was capable beyond comprehension.

  ***

  Matt opened his eyes. He was relieved that he was able to cut through the bear-trap in the jungle moments before. The nature of his military service may have triggered his mind into creating cliffs where he felt compelled to manually escape dangerous situations.

  Matt saw that he was standing on a glass platform floating in the middle of space. In every direction, there were stars, nebulae, and cosmic dust. The platform appeared to be orbiting Earth. In the distance sat a series of lasers. Upon further inspection, Matt realized that the lasers were protruding from Space Station Sagan, which also happened to exist in the staging part of the sequence. At least it appeared that way.

  Matt followed the lasers to see them terminate at a giant ring. That ring sat on the platform a good mile away. As he expected, the GSF engineers built the sequence to mostly mirror what was going on outside.

  Matt squinted harder and noticed two figures walking toward the ring. His fellow gammanauts were already at least a hundred yards away. Presumably, their cliffs must have been shorter than his.

  “Hey there!” he shouted. Matt could feel his voice reverberate across the void of space.

  21

  Shanghai, People’s Republic of China

  It was an overcast afternoon in the megalopolis along the Yangtze River delta. The sun went down as the bright lights and holograms of Pudong filled the horizon. The Nebula descended to a lower altitude and hovered over the Yellow Sea near Chongming Island.

  Beyond its aerial and space-faring capabilities, the Nebula was also a flying fortress akin to the size of a traditional aircraft carrier. At the bottom of the Nebula sat a massive docking bay. It was here that the secretary-general and secretary of defense boarded the executive limousine. Six Special Protection Group agents flanked the limousine on hover-cycles with mounted laser turrets. The entourage detached from the magnetic docks, and one by one took off from the Nebula’s rear doors, starting with the limo.

  Katelyn looked out the windows of the limo at the sprawl of buildings that made up Shanghai. She looked up at one of the SPG agents that flew in close proximity to the limo. She then turned her attention back within the limo, toward Thomas. He was busily reading notes on the opposite side of the lengthy passenger compartment.

  “Any news from our gammanauts?” Katelyn asked. Thomas immediately broke his focus and turned to Katelyn.

  “They made it past the cliffs but have not crossed the spacetime bridge yet. I have the Sagan giving me constant updates. As soon as their minds have gone through the gate, we’ll hopefully know a lot more,” he replied.

  “Good. I want to be informed the very moment it happens,” Katelyn said.

  “Of course,” Thomas replied. “However, I think you should know that after they’ve crossed the bridge, it will be a while before we receive any further updates.”

  “That is to be expected,” Katelyn said. “Hopefully, when we sit down with the Premier, this can be used to push him for greater investments in our extrasolar planetary exploration programs. He said it himself. China is responsible for half the Pelicans orbiting Kennedy.”

  “Maybe. We need to be mindful that China is in a tight spot at the moment. When they funded the drones, it was from a position of strength. The old Politburo ran everything. In the early days, the GSF was able to get whatever it wanted. That was before China went democratic. That is, as bare a democracy as you could have to where it met the textbook definition. Now you have a country with two billion people where dissent carries more weight than it used to,” Thomas explained.

  “Come on, Thomas. You and I both know that China’s democracy is really two groups of entrenched oligarchs fighting for control every two years. Basically, what the United States was before they stopped being united,” Katelyn said.

  “I wouldn’t compare China to the old US. That country was divided from its founding till the end of the Second Civil War. Even after the Salt Lake City Treaty, it remains a patchwork of colonies which only ag
ree that they no longer want to blow each others’ heads off,” Thomas said. “For what it’s worth, I think your speech on the Kennedy reports and the discovery of the Aquarians only upped the pressure on them to increase their investments.”

  “I think this is our moment, Thomas. We can make a strong case to the Premier as to how our discovery will transform the solar system’s economies. Cosmineral will no longer be the only major player in the outer planets. Once we ramp up our interplanetary fleets, we can start mining Saturn’s rings on our own and fund the deep space programs. Just imagine what this will do for the Proxima Centauri Project.”

  “We need to remember that China has its own space program separate from their involvement with GSF. If push came to shove, they’d abandon us on a whim and go solo. Lucky for us, they hate Dev Ivanov and his gang of lawless parasites as much as we do. We need to make clear to them that a further-emboldened partnership with GSF is in their best interests.”

  The skycade made a gradual descent from the sky. Katelyn looked out the window at the endless quilt of soaring structures that towered over the limo like a forest of concrete, glass, and euphoric lights. Katelyn stared at the Oriental Pearl Tower. She remembered seeing it as a kid when it was the hallmark of Shanghai’s skyline. Now it was lost in the patchwork of far-superior buildings that easily dwarfed it.

  Suddenly, Katelyn recognized the eight distinct, oval-shaped skyscrapers that made up China’s government annex in Shanghai. The eight buildings were connected by a giant park that sat thirty stories above street-level. This was their destination. The park took up six city blocks, enough to fit a few thousand people. That is how many people appeared to be waiting for her arrival.

  The SPG agents on hover-bikes coalesced closer to the limo as it closed in on the landing pad. Katelyn could hear the gears of the limo’s wheels as they shifted from their horizontal flying mode back to their vertical driving mode. She and Thomas held steady to their seats. The limo softly touched the ground.

  Outside the vehicle, China’s Central Security Bureau agents stood in formation alongside SPG agents from the GSF. An agent opened the limo door.

  “Madam Secretary-General, Mr. Secretary, welcome to Shanghai,” the agent said.

  “Thank you,” Katelyn replied. She turned to Thomas. “Let’s go make history.”

  “After you, ma’am,” he replied. Katelyn stepped outside and onto the promenade. The crowds felt even more abundant on the ground than they looked from the sky. People cheered her arrival with roaring enthusiasm. She stood up and walked along the red carpet that awaited her arrival. Katelyn looked ahead and saw her fellow world leader, the president of China, standing several meters away.

  Thomas proceeded out of the limo and followed closely behind Katelyn as she made her way toward her fellow world leader. However, he was stopped in his tracks when an urgent, blaring red alert went off on his smart lens.

  “Madam Secretary-General,” he said. She turned to face Thomas. “I have an important message I need to take care of. You go ahead.” Katelyn nodded. She proceeded down the rope line with the Chinese premier.

  Thomas remained at the edge of the limo. He witnessed an incoming message with no caller ID. It was from a private AI interface that Thomas had tasked with assisting in the search for Manuel Carter. Given the presence of a mole in the GSF ranks, Thomas wanted a non-biased, non-human to offer its own intelligence to compare against potentially compromised human input.

  “Mr. Secretary…” The message was not coming in clearly. Thomas suspected the interference from the buildings, clouds, and distance from Space Station Sagan may be to blame. “New intelligence… Information f… has been synthesized… targets id…ified.”

  “Targets? What targets?” Thomas asked.

  “Terra Rebirth… detected on… Station Sagan… submitting suspect report now,” it said. Thomas noticed the file downloading on the upper right-hand corner of his smart lens. This was it. Any minute and he would have the information necessary to root Terra Rebirth out from the GSF. However, the download bar was moving too slow for his patience.

  As that file downloaded, the same AI bot had a second message for Thomas. One that was separate from the mole report. Thomas listened.

  “Active Terra Rebirth cells detected… Location…” The feed kept getting interrupted by the interference, presumably from the weather, tall buildings, and masses of electronic devices in a tight area.

  “Dammit. What are the locations?” Thomas demanded.

  “Space Station Sagan, South Flor… Shanghai,” it said.

  Thomas turned his attention to Katelyn, and then to the crowds along the promenade. He felt his heart rate skyrocket.

  “Oh, no!”

  ***

  Matt, Kiara, and Leon stood at the edge of the massive circular portal at the end of the glass walkway. The lasers from the station fed the twisting blue vortex to bring it to life. At least that’s how it looked from their dream-sequence version of the actual event.

  “So, this is what a wormhole looks like?” Kiara asked.

  “Not really,” Leon replied. “This is a dramatized version. In reality, the laser beams feeding into the particle-accelerator ring isn’t nearly as impressive as it looks here.”

  “This is it,” Matt said. “If you are having second thoughts about this, now is the time to make it known. By now, I am sure you’re both well aware of the risks.”

  “So, this should be a day or two, right?” Kiara asked.

  “That’s the plan. We go in. We collect data. We cross off the items on the checklist. Then we activate the return bridge.” Matt said. “It will really feel like a few hours.”

  “Good. The faster the better.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Matt assured her. “I am confident of it.”

  ***

  Dr. Srivastava and his team continued to monitor the gammanauts while they were in their state of unconsciousness. Vital signs read as healthy. The wormhole opened, and the doctor expected the bridge to be crossed at any moment.

  In the sequencing room, the gammanauts hovered in their peaceful, tidal-locked forms. In the calmness, something unforeseen was occurring inside Dr. Esposito. Deep beneath Leon’s suit, his skin, and even his rib cage, something rested deep inside his internal organs.

  Five years before the mission, Leon started having heart problems. The stresses of work, lack of exercise, and too many synthetic burgers had finally caught up with him. Luckily for Leon, he was fitted with a nano-filtration system to regularly inspect his coronary arteries and remove plaque buildup.

  The nanites were running their usual course of blood-flow monitoring and plaque detection. There was nothing unusual. Moments later, the nanites’ changed their patterns. One by one, the nanites flowed to one particular space in Leon’s heart. The tiny little nano-bots clung together to form a cluster.

  That cluster attached itself to the arterial walls. The bots continued clustering until they formed a perfect circle within the artery. Blood continued to flow, but then the bots continued clustering until the circle was closed. The blood flow ceased.

  In the spacetime command center, the scientists and doctors followed the sequence carefully when suddenly, an alarm went off. Sirens blared loudly throughout the area, and everyone stopped what they were doing.

  “That’s not good,” Dr. Gurmeet Srivastava said. His face quickly turned pale. “What’s going on?”

  “Sir, it’s Dr. Esposito!” a female medic shouted. “He’s experiencing a myocardial infarction!” They turned to the gammanaut chamber on the other side of the glass. Kiara and Matt were upright, but Leon’s head was slumping.

  “Get him out of there,” Dr. Srivastava ordered the medics.

  “They’re at the staging area. If the gammanauts cross while Leon is removed from the sequence, it could have dire consequences,” she replied.

  “And if we don’t remove him now, he will definitely die. I won’t have the loss of Dr. Leon Esposito on my head.” D
r. Srivastava ran to the thick glass door separating the command center from the chamber on the other side. It was welded shut as it was not supposed to be opened mid-sequence. He turned to the large emergency red button on the wall. It was protected by a glass box. Gurmeet grabbed a metal baton hanging on the wall next to it and slammed the baton into the glass box. He paid no attention to the shards that almost pierced him as he pressed the button.

  The door shifted open. Dr. Srivastava and three of the medics rushed inside.

  ***

  “I’ll go first,” Matt said.

  “Are you sure?” Kiara asked.

  “I am military.”

  “I don’t remember any protocols from training that said you have to go in first.”

  “Guys, I am the old man here,” Leon said. “And what is the rule at every ballgame or movie theater? Senior citizens get to cut to the front of the line. So, if you’ll excuse me, I will be the first through that gate. Besides, I am Cabinet, which I’m sure puts me way above both of you.”

  “Why don’t we just all go in simultaneously?” Kiara suggested.

  “Works for me,” Matt said.

  “Yeah. Let’s just do that,” Leon said.

  “Good,” Kiara replied.

  They stood side-by-side and approached the swirling vortex. The cold rush of it sounded like a never-ending wave combined with the spin of a washing machine. They looked into the vortex and were mentally prepared to accept whatever fate had in store for them.

  Suddenly, a violent jolt was felt by all three gammanauts on the platform. Leon fell to the ground. His hands gripped his chest as he screamed in searing pain.

  “Leon,” Kiara said. “What’s happening?”

  “Leon, are you alright?” Matt asked.

  “My chest. My goddamn chest. Aaaah!” Leon groaned through clenched teeth. Another jolt reverberated through the platform.