World of Good - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 “...our way home...”

            Two Vlanco spheres towed the Wayfarer1 up to the outer atmosphere of space, where we commenced countdown. The Wayfarer1 was designed to be launched from space, for fuel conservation. Only the emergency antimatter propulsion system could be used from the lower atmosphere. We busied our minds with military protocol, launch procedures, and thoughts of home.

            “...Three, two, one, launch initiated,” said the computer.

            We slowly and gently got underway. No spectacular event, just one last look back at Onos and our friends. 

            I watched Shelby stare back at the Vlanco planet. “You really fit in there, Shelby.  I bet you’d like to clone yourself right about now.”

            “Yeah. That would be nice,” she said daydreaming.

            “You could always return for a visit you know.”

            “Do you really believe that, Alex?”

            “Why not?”

            “I don’t know. I think there may be matters of security in which the UCE will delay trips to the Vlanco system. I can’t explain it. I just have this funny feeling. I guess that‘s why I’m feeling a little blue.”

            “I wouldn’t worry about it. Things have a way of working out in the long run. Think about home and your family.”

            “I never really doubted I would return to my family.”

            I hope what Shelby felt was only a feeling. In the future, I truly wanted to see a cooperative relationship with the Vlancos. At any rate, we needed to settle in to our new quarters, as this would be home until we stepped back on Earth. Other than a third of our day spent on leisure, we had decided on taking work shifts. Half the crew monitored systems operation, while the other half slept.  There were ten bunks available to the crew, but even with adequate sleeping arrangements, it still made quarters tight. The Sojourner was four times the size of Wayfarer1 and was designed for exercise, play, work and sleep. The Wayfarer didn’t have the luxuries and was designed primarily for experimental research—strictly a no frills ride. In a perfect scenario, it was estimated that the Wayfarer would reach Earth in 11 days. 

            The first day was non eventful, with the exception of nervous energy from us returning travelers.  Shortly, after the 21st hour and passing light speed, that strange turbulent side effects, the major experienced, emerged again.

            “What is happening?” said Shelby, sitting in her seat, holding her head.

            The rest of us staggered around, like we were on a merry-go-round. The Ravion interlink continued its side effect for several minutes.

            “Hold on while I make some adjustments,” said the major.

            The major quickly entered the alterations to reduce the effects. We were still recovering from the last event, when the effects occurred about 60 minutes later. It didn’t have the same intensity as the first one, but it still was enough to shake up the crew. The ensign, Tammy, and Tom were sleeping quietly, unaware of the nuisance we were being subject to. The rest of us complained of vertigo and headaches.  We held tightly to our equilibrium, until the first event subsided, hoping it would be a long time before it restarted.

            Shelby strode up to the major. “We cannot continue like this. You only went 100 light years on your test flight—we have to go 25,000.” She elbowed her way to the monitor. “Let me see those calculation adjustments.”

            “I still have a couple other options to try,” protested the major.

            “Hold on a second,” said Shelby, curtly. “You’ve had three times to make your adjustments. Give me a chance at this.”

            The major backed off. Shelby was an expert navigator, so it couldn’t hurt to let her have a go at it.

            After Shelby scanned through the program a several minutes, she pointed at an error. “Major, you can’t do it this way. “It violates the basics of Astrometric fundamentals.”

            “But these are the calculations the Vlancos gave me before I left,” he protested.

            “You can’t think Vlanco when you’re using the interlink with Earth technology.  We must think in terms of a marriage…where two entirely different personalities have to find common ground for a peaceful existence.”

            She did some more calculations, and worked with the computer to find the errors in the Vlanco modifications, and develop a new, more refined strategy. 

            “According to this data,” she said reviewing the results, “there is no modification that can completely solve this dilemma.”

            I peeked over her shoulder. “You mean we’re stuck with this crazy space sickness the whole trip?            “Therefore,” Shelby continued, “it seems more appropriate that we strategically disconnect the Ravion system temporarily, just prior to entering every turbulent period—then reinitialize the connection, after the turbulence ends.”

            “But if we do that the navigation will be thrown off—wont it?  I asked.

            “Yes it will,” said Shelby, “but not as significantly as you might think. Let me explain. When the Ravion system is brought back on line, it will immediately see the error and make the appropriate compensations during the Hydrogen PhotoIonic phase of propulsion. During this phase, we may notice minor gravity fluctuations, but not the turbulence we’ve been experiencing during the Gravimetric phase.”

            “I like it.” I said.

            She pushed back from the monitor. “However, our speed will be altered. The ship will increase its speed at a decreased rate, which will considerably slow down our estimated time of arrival.”

            “Oh, oh, I knew there would be a snag.”

            The major cut in. “Okay, lets have it Shelby, what’s the new ETA.”

            “Well. It may take up to a … month.”

            “Just a month?” I said. “You had me worried there.”

            “Maybe two at the most,” she corrected.

            The major sighed. “I thought you were about to say years. What are we waiting for? Agreed?”

            I nodded. “Make the adjustments Shelby.”

            Shelby initiated the new adjustments just as the turbulence returned.

            “Oh no! This again!” said the sergeant entering the room. Can’t we do something about this?”

            “Working on it,” said Shelby, furiously moving her hands across the screen. “We need to wait this one out. I can’t do it mid-stream.” She quickly wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist.

            We had to grin and bear it one more time, struggle to keep from throwing up before Shelby could make the final modifications. We knew it was vital to accomplish this task, because it was evident we couldn’t tolerate the reoccurring turbulence all the way back to Earth. Shelby finished the modifications and was ready with a minute to spare.

            Finally, it was time for the next event. We all held on to the furniture like we were about to go through an amusement park ride. A small quiver in the engines was heard, but no turbulence. As we moved through the cabin, we notice the pull of gravity about three times greater than Earth one minute, while the next minute, it was like walking on the Moon. We all agreed this was the pleasant alternative, and settled on the new modifications. 

            The second shift awoke, not knowing what we had experienced, and before we could explain what had happened, the gravity started changing. 

            “Whoa, what is this all about,” said Tammy, trying to adjust for the gravity’s mutation.

            “This is awful,” said Tom, “we have got to investigate why the ships gravity is fluctuating this way.”

            The rest of us looked at one another, and rolled our eyes. 

            The sergeant walked over to Tom. “My friend, you don’t know how good you’ve got it,” he said, slapping him on the back.

            “What do you mean, did I miss something?” said Tom, innocently.

            “You missed a lot, buddy,” I said, “I’m goin’ to bed. Ask Shelby to explain.

* * *

            After my nap, I went to get something to eat in the dining area. I sat dreaming of the homecoming. Carol must be worried sick that I haven’t returned—that is, if they brought her out of stasis. I couldn’t believe what a whirlwind trip we have had. And to think we are on our way home is incredible. I didn’t think I would see Carol, Earth, and my old friends, ever again. Now we have a chance...but we’re not back yet. I probably should expect the worse. On this journey, anything could and does happen.

            Tammy walked in holding her hand over her stomach. “Hey
Alex, do you have any antacids? I have some really painful indigestion.”

            “Sure.” I pulled out a bottle from a cabinet, and tossed it at her. “You look like a ship listing in the water. Did you have a bad lunch?”

            “Well, I felt the same thing, just before we left Onos. It went away, so I didn’t worry about it...but now it’s back and it hurts.” She popped the pills and held her hands on the pained area.

            Tom passed by our room reading his compad. “Hold on a minute. Hey, Tom. You assisted a medical team in the Titan uprising, what do think this is.”

            Tom tucked the compad in his pocket and stepped in the room. “Where does it hurt, Tammy?”

            “Should we get everyone in here so I only have to point this out twice? Right here.” she pointed at her lower intestine.

            “You mean here.” Tom pushed two fingers on the left side and just above the groin. 

            “Owe! Yeah, that mmm...” she gritted her teeth, and exhaled, “...was it.”

            Tom felt Tammy’s forehead. “Your burning up girl.”

            “I just thought it was getting hot in here,” she said. She breathed slowly and deeply.

            “I hate to say this, but I think you’ve got appendicitis. And Tammy, we need to take care of it right away.”

            “We who? Who’s going to take care of it?”

            Other crew members heard the commotion and mingled at the entrance of the room.

            “Does anybody else having any training in this,” said Tom, to the crew.

            We looked at each other, but no one responded.

            I patted Tom on the shoulder. “I guess it’s you buddy.”

            “Then get the 3D portable imager and call up the files on an appendectomy,” Tom ordered. 

            The sergeant followed the orders, while the rest of us hovered around, like buzzards.

            “Tom,” Tammy whined, nervously. “You aren’t a doctor. Can't we just wait until we get home?

            “We could take that risk, Tammy, but from what I’ve heard about ruptured appendixes, its pretty painful, and I think a drain is inserted in the incision for awhile, and recovery is a lot longer, and—”

            “Okay! I get the picture. Can’t we do anything on this trip without having another tragedy?!” She stomped her foot, then grimaced from the stomp.

            “Hang on Tammy, this kind of surgery is a piece of cake, don‘t worry about it.” He turned to me and whispered, “I hope.”

            The sergeant came over with the equipment. “Where do you want it?”

            “Right over here. Set up the imager next to Tammy and we’ll use it as our guide.”

            We laid Tammy out on the table, anesthetized her, then started the computer program. Before she went to sleep she reached over to Tom’s wrist and said, “Be gentle, honey, be gentle.” She went limp.

            Tom looked at me with trepidation. “I need you to assist.”

            “I’m right with you.” I turned to the others. “Give us some space.”

            The others moved back and we looked at the projection to the side. The computer program showed three dimensional image of an individual, laying next to Tammy, waiting to be operated on. The virtual doctor made the incision in the abdomen of his patient. Tom did the same on Tammy. As the virtual doctor did his procedure, Tom followed completed a reciprocal move. Every now and then, there would be some blood covering the internal organs, but we would pause the virtual doctor till we got back on track.  

            The sergeant walked by to check on our progress. When he smelled the stench and saw the blood, he shuffled away holding his stomach.

            Hey! where are you going?” I said laughing at the sergeant. “I can’t believe a military, macho guy like yourself can’t stand a little operation.” 

            He waved me off, as he worked his way back to his bunk.

            Finally, it was to the point in the operation to crimp the appendix, next to the large intestine, and removed it. Tom watched carefully and completed his part flawlessly. Everything went well, even down to the Dermisglue for the incision, which shouldn’t leave a scar, if done properly.

            Tom wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Whew! Thank the programmers for the emergency surgeon files.”

            We washed up and I congratulated him for a job well done. Tammy laid quietly asleep on the surgical table with sensors attached to her.

            “I think you may have another calling, Tom,” I said, grinning like a proud papa.

            “Computer,” Tom called out, “Continue to evaluate her vital signs and alert us to anything urgent we may have to respond to.” He turned to the rest of us. “She’ll be laid up for the rest of the trip, so let’s baby her.”

            I smiled. “I don’t know, Tom, all this attention from a bunch of men may go to her head.”

            “Alex, I don’t believe any amount of attention will be enough for Tammy.”

* * *

           

            At the Deep Space Command Center, the five person council had to decide whether or not manned exploration should continue. With the loss of the Sojourner5 and the Wayfarer1, they were representatives of the Continents of Earth and had to make a decision. They were leaning heavily towards discontinuing the program.

            General Keagan ended the discussion with, “We’d only be throwing good money after bad.”

            “Okay,” said the Colonel, “I think we all understand. You’ve made your points General, now are we ready to take a vote?”

            The members of the council looked around, but no one raised an objection.

            “Then can we have a show of hands for those who would like to continue the manned Deep Space program?”

            Dr. Sanyo was the only person to raise his hand.

            “I guess that means, the majority has decided and agree to the Generals unmanned probes for further deep space exploration. This doesn’t mean the manned space program will be discontinued for ever. It just means that until we have a high probability that conditions in the area are safe for explorers, we will put it on hold. Are we agreed?”

            Everyone nodded. After several days of debate, the meeting was adjourned and over. The members shook hands, as they made their way out of the room.

            The lieutenant appeared at the door and peeked his head in. “Colonel. Captain Livingston's wife is on the line.”

            “Thanks, lieutenant. I’ll take it in my office. Oh and lieutenant, set up a meeting Wednesday for the council to decide on the strategy for developing and launching the new unmanned probe mission.  Also notify the Media that they will be briefed on the vote and further details.”

            “So the manned missions are out?”

            “That’s affirmative,” replied the colonel, chewing his cigar. “Now give me a few minutes peace and quiet.”

            The colonel shut his office door, took a deep breath, went to the imager and took the message. 

            “Mrs. Livingston, so how are things going for you,” said the colonel, as though she were a breath of fresh air.

            “I know I’ve bothered you incessantly, since you brought me out of stasis, but no one else will give me a straight answer.”

            “What about, my dear?”

            “What the chances are that Alex and his crew will be able to make it back home.”

            The colonel sighed and combed back, what little hair he had, then leaned back in his chair. “To be honest, Carol ... I don’t know if they will make it back. Major Larson, left with the experimental ship Wayfarer1 to retrieve them, but we haven’t even heard from them.”

            “But surely there must be something you could do?” she said, with a quiver of desperation in her voice.

            “There is always hope. But we have to move on with what we have, not with what we’d like to have. The chances are real slim, Carol. That doesn’t mean we should forget them. We just voted on a plan to institute the unmanned deep space probes today. So we won’t be able to interact like we did with the manned program. We will still have eyes and ears out there. And we won’t be as financially strapped, like we were with the manned program. This will allow us to send more probes out to investigate the possible whereabouts of the two ships.”

            “Well...that‘s something.” said Carol, tears welling up. “I don’t know if I could survive knowing we were abandoning our military people in space.”

            “Listen to me. Never will I abandon one of my men. Until I have hard evidence, I just consider them missing. I know all this is difficult for you, Carol. Is there anyone you can talk to about all this?”

            “My family has been very supportive. And thank you for the information. Please let me know if you hear anything...anything at all.”

            “You bet I will. Just hang tough. I’ll do the best I can.”

            Carol exited the imager, and the colonel smacked the OFF button, and rubbed his temples.

            “Phew, of all the things I have to do in this place, this is the hardest part of my job.  I’d give my right arm for even a piece of scrap waste from one of those ships, to give me a hint where they might be.”