Galen scratched his head. “So how do we know where we’ll be?”
The co-pilot said, “The jump points have to be set up ahead of time, through trial and error. A ship is sent through from a known point, and then after it determines its position it comes back and reports where it was. Usually. Sometimes the jumpship doesn’t come back.”
“Why is that?”
“There could be something blocking it. The destination might be inside an object, or there might be too much matter in the space of the destination. Doesn’t take much. Something the size of my fist could screw up the jump point exploration by shifting the ship’s position relative to the jump point just enough, when it comes back it goes to a point different from where it started from. Another problem, the exploring ship could end up so far away it can’t determine its position so it just keeps on trying to figure it out and won’t return until it does.”
Karen said, “Sounds dangerous.”
“When they try to establish jump points, they don’t send crews. The exploratory jumpships are automated. But it’s a process, establishing jump points. There is no way to predict how they’ll turn out, but they do always connect the same two points, once they’re established, provided the subsequent jumpships follow the exact same angle and point of entry.”
“So the angle is just as important as the coordinate.” Karen leaned forward in her chair.
“Yes. Changing the angle at which the connection is made changes the destination, but not correlatively. Meaning, the destination could be anywhere. Just because a ship passes through angled slightly to the left, it doesn’t mean it will travel to a point to the left.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know, and I doubt anyone else does either, or they would have found a way to use that knowledge by now.” The co-pilot swiveled his seat back to forward and then fastened his seat belt. “Zero G coming up.”
The pilot shut off the ionic propulsion drives, rotated the ship so that its belly faced directly toward the jump point, waited for just the right moment, and turned the ionic propulsion engines on again, to decelerate toward the jump point with a force of one G.
Karen said, “Zero G gives me butterflies in my stomach.”
Galen said, “You’ll get used to it. Pilot, when we get there, I want to be able to sit back at a distance and watch the other ships jump through first.”
“Not a problem.” The pilot made a tiny course correction. “We’ll be there in about forty minutes. I’ll park so we can watch them go through from the side.”
“Here they come.” The pilot rotated the command drop ship to the right about forty mils so that Galen could view the two approaching transport ships. Their hulls were covered with attached drop boats, docked to catch a ride to the jump point on the larger ship. The jumpship, a cylinder, blunt at each end, rotating slowly for axial stability waited at the jump point, its two kilometers of outer hull space clear at the moment. The two transport ships stopped alongside at opposite sides, matched the slow rotation of the jump ship so as to be stationary relative to the hull of the jump ship, and docked to the jump ship at the same moment.
Galen watched as a ish opaque cube shimmered into existence in front of the jump ship. “So, they drive into that cube?”
The pilot said, “It’s not really a cube, it’s a flat plain but it appears to us as a cube because of an optical illusion, the result of space-time warping caused when the two points of space are connected.”
The jumpship moved forward slowly, its forward section disappearing as it entered the jump point. Galen winced at the sight of his cargo ships and attached drop boats vanishing along a straight plane as they passed through the jump point. Viewing the jump point from the side, it looked as though the entire jumpship and the ships and boats attached to it were simply going away and ceasing to exist. Vanishing. After the jumpship was completely gone, the opaque cube illusion of the jump point shimmered as it, too, vanished.
“Wow, that was disturbing,” said Karen.
“Our turn,” said the pilot. He moved the dropship into position in front of the jump point, double checked the calculations against the co-pilot’s calculations, set the space craft into a slow spin, checked the numbers again and then activated the jump point. Viewed head-on, the jump point looked like a flat grey square, less opaque, that filled the cockpit window. The pilot then eased the craft forward, approaching the jump point slowly.
Galen withdrew an auto-injector from his pocket and removed the protective cap and injected himself in the thigh with a powerful sedative. After a moment, he was unconscious.
Chapter Four
Galen came-to and shook his head, still a little groggy from the sedative. “How long was I out?”
The pilot said, “About an hour. We already passed the turnaround point and we’re decelerating toward Juventud.”
Galen unbuckled his seat harness. “Where’s Karen?”
“We took her to her cabin during the zero-g at the turnaround. She passed out during the jump.”
“Not really passed out,” said the co-pilot. “She screamed, then went limp, and slumped in her seat when we accelerated. We waited for the zero-g at the turnaround to take her to her cabin, to make it easier to move her.”
Galen stood. “I’m going to check on her.”
It was dark in her cabin, a small red light the only illumination, so Galen left the door open half way to allow light from the hallway to get in. Karen was strapped to her bunk with a couple of elastic cords. She was on her back, breathing slowly, a blank look on her face except for the faint hint of a smile. Galen removed the cords, swiveled her desk chair and sat next to the right side of her bed. He placed his left palm on her forehead for a moment, and then brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. He held her right hand in his and noticed she squeezed his fingers gently. He placed his left hand on her right shoulder and shook it gently.
Her eyes stayed closed, but Galen noticed the eyes moving under the lids, and her cheeks pulled up on her face and her mouth opened a bit as she smiled. She breathed deep and then let out a long sigh. She squeezed Galen’s hand hard and then released it, then grabbed it again, held it gently.
Galen said, “Welcome back.”
She opened her eyes and turned her face toward Galen. “Life is love. Love is life.”
Even in the dim light and despite Karen’s olive skin, Galen could see that her cheeks were flush. And her lips a little puffy, and her eyes. Her eyes, open, dilated, the usually dark color of her irises more brown than ever, the bottom lids pushed up a bit by the cheeks, her entire face one big smile.
Galen now knew she was a sleeper like him, and knew what it was like. He just hoped she’d be okay. For lack of anything better to say he simply said, “Yes.”
She said, “I thought about you.”
Galen released her hand as she sat up. She stood and stretched her arms over her head, facing Galen. He couldn’t help but to admire her trim figure, evident even through her combat coveralls. Feeling conscientious about sitting with his face about the same height as her hips, especially since the fabric of her coveralls was tight up against her crotch, he stood. She stepped closer to him and said, “I thought about what you said, about how this was real and I’d come back. That really helped me. That helped me so much.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. He hugged her, arms around her shoulders. Her hair tickled his nose until she tilted her face up to look into his eyes. Her lips parted. Galen used his right foot to kick the cabin door closed, then cupped the back of her neck gently in his left hand and kissed her full on the lips. The kiss held for half a minute, then she stepped back and sat on her bunk, smiling into Galen’s eyes as she took off her boots.