by E. N. Abel
''Well, I think Mike's space-ball has already been tested. Thoroughly. He has that Russian guy at his side, Rosskov. Ex-Speznaz, post graduate of a Russian elite engineer school, s'far as I remember. You can expect him to have designed and built all those components your colleagues are currently quarrelling about. So I would expect them to work - at least on an advanced Russian quality level. Believe me: Speznaz officers are not known to be careless.''
''OK, if we assume that the ship will be fit for its purpose, we still have to test it on our own. Without at least an extended flight acceptance test I can't give the ship flight status. Regulations. You should know about that.''
''Oh yes. So it's just that mysterious gravitational device that's missing?''
''Basically, yes.''
Richard reached to his nightstand, picked up the communicator, pressed it. A voice answered at once.
''Stardust, XO.''
''Warrington.''
''Sir.''
''Report.''
''First Sergeant Muller, sir. Night watch. Nothing particular to report.''
''Location.''
''Position is one hundred kilometers above the North Pole, sir. Luna's north pole.'' Stating this Muller sounded absolutely cool.
''Wake the Captain, XO.''
''Yes, sir. One moment.''
Nora stared at him, dumbfounded by the man's rude directness. But before she could protest, another voice sounded up, the sleepy voice of MacMillan.
''Colonel.''
''Mike, I've got an offer for you.''
''I'm all ears, sir.'' Now he sounded awake.
''See, here I am, lying in bed with this wonder of a woman...''
Nora froze again, eyes open in shock.
''Congrats, sir.'' Emotionless.
''And this beautiful, marvellous woman is, by chance, a project leader of NASA.''
''You sure are a lucky man, sir.'' Again no emotion in the voice, but Nora had the impression of a big smirk behind the words.
''And this woman is in need of one of those antigrav machines, you know, like the one that drives your boat.''
''I understand, sir. Being in bed with a Special Forces officer surely leaves any woman in need of such a thing.''
Nora was thunderstruck, but Warrington just laughed. ''Exactly. Now, she's willing to trade.''
Somehow Nora expected MacMillan to follow up on this jest, but was disappointed.
''How fitting. And by chance we need a lot. One would believe that a NASA project manager has a lot to offer for ... space farers.''
''As for Special Forces officers. Now, here is the deal: one more complete space craft for you, just like the one you already have, in exchange for such a ...''
''Grav generator, sir. That's what we call them.''
''OK, for one grav generator.''
''You're really prepared to pull this off, sir?'' Mike asked, sceptically.
Warrington looked at Nora, and she understood: the question wasn't meant for the Colonel.
''Mr MacMillan, this is Dr Cole ... Nora Coleman. If you come through, so will I.''
''Cross My Heart And Hope To Die, Stick a Needle in my Eye?'' That one came ironically.
''No,'' Rick stepped in, ''you have my word.''
''That I'll gladly take, sir. Now, you need more than one grav generator to move the sphere. Check the following web site, Ma'am,'' - a web address followed - ''and you'll see the principle. I am prepared to equip you with as many generators as you need to finish one ship. We can outfit ours by ourselves upon pick up, provided you stay within the original construction parameters. But there is one condition.''
''And?'' Nora was clearly excited now.
''Your first crew must be a multinational one and contain at least a Russian, a Brit, a French and a Chinese.''
For a moment Nora considered that demand, then, sounding disappointed, said: ''I'm sorry, but I cannot guarantee that - simply because I'm not in a position to enforce it. But I can influence it and I give you my word to do my best. I'll even blackmail Professor Ronstedt, the NASA director, if necessary.''
''Well, then that will have to do. I accept your word as well.''
''So you trust me?''
''I trust Colonel Warrington, Ma'am. He would never have orchestrated this deal if he didn't trust you. And before you want to refer to it: sharing your bed with him doesn't matter the slightest here.''
That left a Dr Coleman big-eyed and a bit speechless.
''Well, Mike,'' the Colonel came to her rescue, ''I guess that's all for now. I'll return to explore the inner moons.''
Nora blushed again.
''And I'll get up for an early cup of coffee. Thank you for the call, sir.''
''Good bye, Lieutenant!''
''De oppresso liber, sir.''
The connection broke.
''What did you doooo?'' Nora demanded at once, displaying indignation and slapping him playfully with her hand, wavering between anger and amusement. ''Talking about me like that ...''
''Got you a space drive, my dear. Got you a space drive and my boys a second ship. They'll need it, God knows. It surely is dangerous enough out there.''
Nora looked at her bedmate, rather sober now. He was right. She snuggled into his arm and kissed his cheek. ''Thank you, love.'' She hadn't used that word in a very long time, not since her husband had left her for his secretary.
Chapter 98
Florida
Tuesday, 06.12.2016
''Last time I spoke to your Lieutenant,'' Nora said, leaning forward over the breakfast table, ''he accused me of lacking perspective.'' Obviously she had taken offence, her tone was slightly agitated.
''And you don't?'' Warrington replied casually, spreading some jam over his roll. He eyed her closely over the table, again admiring her wonderful physique. For forty something she was in an excellent shape, and the low cut white T-shirt she was wearing this fine morning surely didn't do her any harm. With all this female beauty in view, a night in the embrace of this lovely woman behind him and the outlook on another sunny day, he felt utterly at peace with the world.
''Well, I don't exactly see myself lacking perspective or foresight; I'm usually very good at planning.'' She clearly didn't like MacMillan's judgement.
Warrington sighed. ''Mike didn't criticise your management capabilities dear, he doesn't even know them. He just said he thinks you lack perspective - and I believe he meant: perspective towards the future of space flight. And that might be true.'' He looked directly at her now, smiling. ''Nora, darling, having watched your flock of scientists for days clawing at each other to get to the niftiest things, I think his assessment is correct.'' Nora looked stricken and set to reply, but Rick went on. ''See, the Lieutenant is a true field officer, forged in the fire of combat. Highly competent, very considerate; he deliberates over things. Burying friends you lost on the battle ground because of your insufficient planning tends to do that, makes you more considerate the next time. At least the good leaders. And having started such an adventure like travelling through space, he does that, too. Think things through, I mean. You know he said he wants to reach another star. So how far away is the next one?''
''The closest one would be Proxima Centauri. About one-point-three parsecs. Four and a quarter light-years.''
''That's what?''
''Only about twenty five trillion miles.''
''Christ! Anyway, this is the catch: you go there and something breaks, you can't turn into the next garage to get things fixed. If you try a stunt like that, you had better be prepared. Think beforehand.''
''Naturally. But what does that have to do with me and my lack of perspective?''
''Darling, Mike is an American. By choice, not by birth. Has paid a mighty high price for the admission ticket. Swore to the flag and acted on that oath. Was sent into war and came out alive. Received the citizenship. He would never betray us.''
''Then why did he hand his technology over to CERN, not to us?''
''Split loyalti
es. Have you seen his crew manifest? How many nationalities are on board?''
''People from fourteen nations, if I remember correctly.''
''And each and everyone with civic duties to his or her country. These guys are no stupidos, they are the intellectual elite of their races. You can expect them to know what civic duty means.''
Nora pondered a while in silence. When she spoke up, she was full of thoughts: ''So he gives his secrets to CERN, to all mankind, but makes sure we have a little advantage. Is that it?''
''Yes. And he keeps a back channel open.''
''To people he trusts. To you.''
'' To me, for example.''
''So what shall we do? Keep him happy with gifts - in the hope of further presents?''
''No, he has already given us all we need. I'd say: build the little spaceships as fast as you can. Hand one over to his gang in exchange for the missing parts so your own vessel becomes space-worthy. Assemble the requested crew, fly to Mars. Plant a flag.''
''You mean, plant a flag for each participating nation.''
''That would be the smart move. Mike has already suggested a mixture.''
''You mean a Russian, a Brit and a Chinese?''
''Don't forget the French. But me personally, I would do more: make the flight crew purely American - from as many different races as possible - and load up as many guests from other nations as the ship can safely transport. Maybe even ask Mike to help out. He said it takes a day to get to Mars; so fly a whole busload of people up there. Land, let them all plant their flags, send a prayer to their gods, pop a few bottles of champagne - or whatever they fancy - and ferry them back.''
He paused shortly, thinking, then carried on. ''Next move: send more ships, more material, set up a base camp, turn it into a real, self sufficient planetary trading station - space farer of all nations welcome. Sell AM fuel, food, air, entertainment. For precious metals, rare earth elements, uranium, whatever you want, whatever they bring. Offer maintenance, too. And always stay fair. Simultaneously start your own exploration missions in earnest.''
Again Nora remained silent. It took her nearly half an hour, then she looked up: ''Richard, you are a considerate man. Such a gesture, it would go a long way. A very long way. I will do my very best to arrange our mission to Mars exactly as you suggested.''
''One more thing. Next time you talk to Mike, don't forget who he is, what he is and where he is. I promise you, he will not. Remember his constraints, too. Think ahead. He will have.''
She put her hand on his arm: ''You know, I never would have expected such wisdom from a ...''
''Jar-head.'' The Colonel laughed out loud and heartily, and after a moment Nora joined in.
Chapter 99
Moon Orbit
Monday, 19.12.2016
In the hope of grabbing a late lunch, Marlene entered the galley. Today Theresa N'Gomi, self-appointed chef-de-troupe, had produced a large pot of pasta and a second one full of her marvellous Kenyan tomato-herbs sauce, and Leni had high hopes of finding some left-overs. And so it was, the two pots were still on the till, sitting on warm-pads. She peeked into them only to find plenty of both left. When she reached for a plate, Chan entered. Marlene fired a smile at the Chinese woman. Ever since they had been put on the same shift, they met here almost daily and had gotten closer. She waved with a serving spoon: ''Want some pasta, darling?''
''Yes, please.'' Chan dropped onto a chair. ''I really need some carbohydrates ...''
''Are you still working on the jump software?''
''Yes. Gosh, I hate it when Mike says nothin to it...'' she imitated his tone, ''and then you need a week to get it done.''
Marlene laughed: ''I know that feeling!'' She handed a plate and a fork to Chan. ''So how are you getting along?''
''I'm nearly done.'' She hesitated. ''Leni, can I tell you a secret? A real one? I need to share it with someone.''
Marlene was taken aback a bit - they were not yet that close of friends, but then replied with a smirk: ''You think because I share the Captain's bed I am trustworthy?''
''I think,'' Chan returned slowly, ''because you love him you should know.''
Now it was Marlene who hesitated. Cautiously she replied: ''What do you mean?''
''See, I have a problem telling you this. Moving around as freely as I am allowed to, I am always a bit afraid that I am suspected to spy for my country.''
''So are you?''
''No. I have no orders to do so and would never betray your people.''
There it is again, that my people - your people, Marlene thought, feeling a bit repelled and disappointed. Chan does not feel at home here, with us, even after being released by her former superior. She took the Asian woman's hand, gave it a gentle squeeze of assurance: ''I do believe you.''
''Thank you. Now, did you ever hear anything about geometric quantum field theory?''
''Actually,'' Marlene blushed, then smirked, ''just a few days ago. When I was lying in Mike's arms ...''
''A good place to learn about quantum theories,'' Chan replied dryly, putting her hand comfortingly on her friends forearm. ''In fact I learned about matter wells in Alex's embrace, a week ago ...''
Both women shared a girlish giggle.
''Anyway, please tell me about your learning experience,'' Chan requested. ''I mean the one about geometry ...''
Again they giggled.
''Well, I was curious about Twisted Spaces' antimatter production method, the one they gave away. I wondered why we don't produce it ourselves, instead of getting it from CERN. So I asked Mike. He replied that I would have to learn some spacial geometry first.''
''And?''
''Obviously that's a theory a German physicist named Burkhard Heim developed after the second world war. He called it extended unified quantum field theory and it's supposed to be a rival to Einstein's universal field theory. But you know far more about this topic than me, I suppose.'' Marlene paused shortly, considering. ''Seemed to be a kind of hobby between physicists in those days, developing theories describing the universe as a whole.''
''Yes, I have that impression, too. Most of them were disproved shortly after their publication. But please continue.''
''Heim started his research in earnest during the early fifties. He knew Einstein's relativity theory, of course, but he went a completely different way. Used a purely geometric approach, something nobody had ever considered before.'' She heaped pasta on their plates and drowned it with the rich sauce, then went on: ''Mike said there was unbelievably complex mathematics behind it. Later he showed me a few pages of Heim's work, and I must say, he was right. I mean, as an astronomer you are exposed to a lot of math, but that stuff is a totally different animal.'' Marlene dug into her dish. ''Hmm, delicious! Well, you of all of us will know that best. Anyway, he gave me an example on how you can construct a whole universe starting with a single point.'' She fetched a paper sheet and a pen from the till, painted a dot in the middle. ''So, it starts with a one-dimensional object, a dot. Then one of unfolds that space to a two dimensional one, by copying the original dot and setting it beside the first one. Many of these copy processes form a line ...''
Chan continued: ''By straightening the line you get a straight.''
Marlene nodded, then painted a straight line on the sheet: ''Right. And so it continues, point to many points, forming a line. Copied lines connected to a parallelogram, to a rectangle, to a square. Copied squares to a cube.'' More drawing, more geometric shapes appeared: cubes, figures created by cubes put together. She took a breath. ''Each step includes a copy process and an occasional extension of the dimensions. Cube to many cubes, form complex figures, complex figures put together to form huge structures. A little bit like playing Tetris.''
''Just that Tetris is a two dimensional game,'' Chan reminded her.
''True. Now, Mike said to imagine the cubes to be unbelievably small, but the copy process as unbelievably fast.''
''Unfold one cube per nanosecond, you get a billion in o
ne heartbeat.''
''Exactly. And with the billions and billions of structures you form planets, stars, galaxies.''
''Just one thing missing in your universe.''
''Yes, time. If you unfold a three-dimensional structure you get a four dimensional one: matter in a time stream.''
''That's as descriptive as it gets, if you try to explain Heim's theory,'' Chan summarized. ''What else did he tell you?''
''Well, it still did not explain how they create antimatter. So I asked again and he said that, if you concentrate enough energy in a close-to-one-dimensional space, matter unfolds - just like Heim's theory predicts. But you get both types - matter and antimatter.''
''Now it's my part, I guess,'' Chan picked up the trail. ''If you concentrate enough energy in one small spot, the space-time structure gives in and a stream of matter emerges. Alex called that a matter-well.''
''Yes, Mike called it that, too.'' Marlene said. ''Another name he used was alpha point.''
''The thing is, that both matter types appear at the same time. Matter and antimatter shoot out of the well, come in touch and annihilate each other.''
''Not if you separate them fast enough. And that's how they produce antimatter.''
''Exactly. They squeeze a great amount of energy into one tiny space,'' Chan followed up ''Gravitational energy, and surround that dot with a super strong magnetic field that rips the emerging matter stream into two beams: one comprised of matter and one of antimatter. Then they slow the streams down - thereby cooling them off - and direct them into magnetic containments.''
''AM injectors.''
''Yes, that's what you call the one for the antimatter. The other one is named residual collector - basically it's pure Tritium gas, commercially more valuable than gold. But to initially start the whole process you need a very, very powerful energy source.''
''Like the fusion reactor at CERN,'' Marlene carried on.
''Right. But they don't use the fusion energy directly.''
''Mike said it would be nearly impossible to focus it tight enough. That's why they use gravity instead. The theory of gravity is described by Heim's equations, too, and from that the group could derive a construction method. As soon as they could build a device that manipulated gravity, they could concentrate all that energy in a very tiny spot, thereby initiating a matter well. Anyhow, that's all I know about it.''