Pins (23)

 

Three years in the space of a nap. Inconceivable technology. Her technology. It scared her. It weighed on her.

A pantheon of white coffins was spread out below. Circular levels spiralled around a central void. 

The memories receded again. She looked round at the coffins. Her first clear thought was: I hope we don't have to use those.

A white balcony lined the interior of her own level. She clambered from her sticky bed, tripped between the coffins, and slumped against it.

There had been no need for relocation from the farmhouse. They were moved straight to the pre-launch quarantine. The departure was brought forward. Alisdair had said it would happen.

She grasped the rail and looked round at the small white coffin she'd spent all those months in. The heavy water shield lining it. Her own little phosphorescent ball, gone supernova, resized and reimagined. Speeding them through the stars. She peered up at the walls.

'Status,' she said.

Her voice was reedy. It drifted through the metallic chambers. A steady thrum underpinned everything. Walking was tricky. It took several short circuits for her legs to readjust to the motions, and even then it was a taxing business. She walked stiffly to the chamber exit.

'Status,' she repeated.

The doors slid open with a sharp intake of breath. The light in the corridor was a violent neon. The walls were white. Numerous doorways were indented into the curved passage. She looked up. White orbs were attached to the ceiling, at regular intervals. 

'Support,' she said, coughing. 'Support, status.'

The white orb above her head flared yellow. It detached and hovered. It glided down the wall. Two shutters opened in its white lining. A greyish, wraith-like cloak slid from the gap. It lent the circular head a strange, shimmering body.

Sophie breathed. The silver-bodied apparition wavered before her. Its blank yellow head bobbed.

'HD 85512b orbit,' it said, 'Vela constellation. All systems functional. All passengers healthy. All cargo intact and uncontaminated. Temperature regulation ongoing.' 

Sophie leaned against the wall. The orb's voice was thin and mechanical, but it did not seem confined to the little glowing wraith. It seemed to come from all around. 

'Who else is awake, support?' she said.

'Commanding Officer Colville. Engineer Officer Keys. Doctor Walden is waking.'

Sophie nodded. A skeleton crew, in a ship that held three thousand. Three thousand white coffins, capable of sustaining life for far longer journeys. 

Alisdair rounded the corner, wearing a blue uniform with striped sleeves. His thinning hair was combed into a side parting, and his moustache was trimmed. He waved. Sophie looked down at her grubby shirt, and managed a tired smile. 

'Commanding Officer,' she said.

Alisdair hugged her tightly, and came away with sticky strings on his fingers.

'Very good,' he said. 'How do you feel?'

His eyes searched her face. She wiped her hands on her shirt front.

'Tired,' she said. 'And manky.'

Alisdair looked past her to the hibernation chamber.

'Walden's just up,' he said. 'Take a moment to greet him, then you can get cleaned up.'

They returned to the chamber. The orb ghosted after them, its grey cloak billowing. Walden was perched on the edge of his coffin. He looked exhausted. His red hair was cropped close, and his bushy beard was flecked with grey. He looked up at them and pulled gluey threads from his shoulders. 

Alisdair clapped him on the back. Sophie shook his hand. They helped him over to the balcony. The orb observed. It skimmed towards the ledge. Its cloak tapered and spread. It trailed iridescent threads as it swam across the void between levels.

They watched it in silence. Walden shivered. 

'Did we make it?' he said.

'That is indeed a good question,' Alisdair said. 'Once you feel on a level we'll head to the bridge. Keys has been up longest. He's going through the reports.'

'You should walk a bit,' Sophie said. 'It takes a while.'

Walden shivered and wiped sticky strings from his vest. The orb shuttled up through the gloom. It dangled in front of them and flared yellow.

'There's something wrong with your eyes,' Walden said. He was squinting at her.

Sophie looked away. Alisdair moved between them and leaned on the rail.

'Seriously,' Walden said. 'You need to let me look at that. It could be a side-effect of the journey.'

Alisdair glanced at Sophie. His face twitched.

'You are one of the farthest, Walden,' he said. 'You should take a moment to acknowledge that.'

Sophie thought the attempt at distraction was fairly transparent, but she appreciated it. Walden dug his palms into his eyes.

'Are we having a moment?' he said. 'I feel too shitty for moments. I'd take coffee and a shower.'

'Understandable,' Alisdair sighed. 'Felt like I had to say something.'

Sophie joined him at the ledge, and stared down at the helical levels.

'I keep thinking we're too late,' she said. 'Fifteen year's work. Three years out. Eighteen years is far too long.'

'We were bound by the limitations,' Alisdair said. 'You couldn't rush the work. And you couldn't rush the funding. You need fifteen years for plenty of backstabbing, crime, and bird masks. Anything less would seem far too normal. I think eighteen years is utterly remarkable, given the circumstances.'

The orb drifted past them and glowed.

'Confirmed visual of HD 85512b on the bridge,' it said, its mechanical voice echoing through the void.

Alisdair squeezed Sophie's hand and turned. Walden joined them, walking gingerly, as they headed for the chamber exit. The orb bobbed behind them all.

*

Keys was seated at the navigation table, and he swivelled his chair round as they trooped into the bridge. He was a wiry, lined man. His blue uniform hung loose on him, and his hair fell in messy tufts over his forehead and ears. 

He raised a single hand, and Alisdair joined him at the helm. The shutter on the viewscreen at the front bulkhead was sliding up. Sophie checked the auxiliary systems display, and crossed the bridge to join them. 

There was a blue tint around the edges of the large rectangular window. An enormous grey exoplanet floated within it. Much of it was in shade. In the darkness beyond, its parent star was a small glowing point. Walden staggered over to the helm. The orb flitted above them. It flared a dull orange and attached itself to the ceiling.

They allowed themselves an unspoken moment of reverence.

'There you go,' Alisdair said. 'Thirty-six light years from Earth.'

'And you're still set on this first?' Keys said. He had a soft Canadian accent. 

'Absolutely,' Alisdair said, glancing at Sophie. 'But only briefly. There's things we need to do there first. There may be a chance to return before we turn back. It depends on whether it's just the four of us.'

Keys swallowed. His fingers glided over the touchscreen console, and the viewscreen magnified a speck on the distance. A floating monolith. A vast black column blinking in the vacuum. 

Sophie tensed. She watched the little lights winking on its sleek, towering walls. Her head felt heavy. Three years in a small cocoon. Nobody really knew what that could do to you. The simulations were nothing compared to this. It was ad hoc work. It was ad hoc work gone crazy.  

She looked at Alisdair. He had stopped moving and talking. He was completely still, and his face was smeared horribly. It didn't look right. It didn't look like how a person should be. Strange thoughts played across her mind, but she couldn't catch them and make them whole.

She stepped down from the helm. The black monolith seemed closer on the viewscreen. Much closer. Her eyes narrowed.

'I need to shower,' she said. 'I need to sleep properly. I feel shattered.'

'You've not been well,' Alisdair said. 'You must sleep.'
 

 

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