“Refrain from getting your hopes up. A direct attack on the Ring by the Phalanx would be like trying to keep the ocean tide from rising by shoveling scoops of sand into the sea,” was the kind of comment made by critics. Even Aki was unconvinced that a direct attack would work, if it were even prudent to try.
UNSDF Central Command, however, had lost any patience for pessimism and responded by saying, “Our most potent weapon is humanity itself. We believe in the crew of the Vulcan Mission without reservation.” After a brief ceremony that struck all four crewmembers as superfluous, the crew entered a long transparent tube and boarded the Phalanx. They floated through the airlock and into the crew area, a twelve-cubic-meter compartment that was the only common space in the habitation module.
Commander Kindersley chuckled. “That’s one hell of a long trip just to end up in another sardine tin. At least it feels homey.”
“Long trip? We haven’t even left orbit to hit the deep sky yet,” Mark chided.
“It feels almost over. After four years of waiting, eleven more months doesn’t seem like much.”
AFTER PRELIMINARY INSPECTIONS, the crewmembers entered the “cocoons,” their ovular private quarters. The cocoons were as small as coffins but contained everything the crew needed for day-to-day living. They could sleep, conduct meetings through the internal comm system, control the ship, and even answer the call of nature from inside their cocoons. Here was where they would spend most of their time. All information systems were operated from the cocoons using data suits and heads-up displays. They would take meals in the crew area, unless mounting tension among crewmembers (a consideration built into the very architecture of the ship) dictated otherwise, but the rest of their time would be spent within their cocoons.
Four hours later, the UNSS Phalanx undocked from the International Space Station on schedule. Aki was surprised that they were leaving on time after all the countless delays, but she was ecstatic to finally be taking off. As the ship left its low orbit, she felt no more movement or acceleration than she would have felt if she were riding an elevator.
“We’re on our own, just the four of us. Let’s do our best to be friendly, but not too friendly,” said Commander Kindersley from his cocoon. Then, clearing his throat, he added, “Mark,” half-jokingly.
AKI SPENT MOST of her time conferring with Per over the comm system. It was their job as the science team to discuss operational plans and review research sent from Central Command.
“Hey, Aki. Did you check that article from CERN about the latest theory on energy transfer from the Ring to the Island?”
His voice bubbled with curiosity, showing no signs of bitterness over the fact that the Ring had rendered his homeland uninhabitable. He tended to view the Ring more as a mechanical device that was causing a nuisance rather than something that had obliterated most of Sweden.
“The article on how energy might be converted to anti-proton beams that pass through narrow tubes? The energy loss would be too much waste. I think it would be too unconventional, even taking into account the creativity we have seen,” Aki responded.
“With a clever conversion equation though. Didn’t the math look pretty at least? It would be more efficient than passing the energy down copper wire that wrapped halfway around the sun. I am interested in running this through the onboard database and downloading more info. When we remove a sample of ring material, let’s do a matter-antimatter annihilation response test so that we can see how much energy it really stores.”
“The omnispectrometer might come in handy. If it is using anti-protons, there must be some built-in mechanism on the Ring that is creating them. If we go on the logic that the Ring behaves like a cellular organism, each unit would contain the fundamental building blocks that provide the basis for its various functions.”
“The cell model is not always the most efficient, you know,” said Per. “One anti-proton plant per square kilometer would be enough. Anti-proton plants could have been overlooked by the probes. Assuming a homogenous structure across the Ring is just the failure mode of that sort of model.”
“Certainly a possibility. The probes saw little.”
Her discussions with Per tended to be business oriented and often ended abruptly. They were not close in the sense of being friendly, but their interaction kept Aki’s mind occupied during the long voyage.
ACT IX: JANUARY 24, 2022
REACHING PERIHELION, THE UNSS Phalanx fired its engines full thrust in order to decelerate. Planet Earth was over a hundred million kilometers off the ship’s port side. Communications had been clear, with no interference from the sun or the gas clouds blasting up from its surface. The latest news and information was constantly uploaded onto the ship’s mirror server. Aki stayed focused on analyzing the streams of data, but it was impossible to keep from being distracted by news of the tragic and worsening conditions back home.
Every day seemed to offer new visions of heartbreak. Lately, violent uprisings were more frequent. A few weeks ago it had been hunger strikes. The governments of the Commonwealth of Independent States nations had ceased to function as their citizens fled south. They sought refuge in South Asia, northern Australia and various parts of Africa, even though all of those locations were already overflowing with refugees. With their homelands overrun by glaciers, cut off from the rest of the world that had not yet frozen over, the refugees had little choice but to flee. The problem was that very few places were left unaffected. The environmental and meteorological changes meant that the sheer volume of refugees outnumbered the options for shelter.
PROPELLANT TANKS 8 and 9 were jettisoned when the tanks ran dry. Gigantic metal balls drifted ahead of the decelerating ship, outlined majestically by the brilliance of the sun behind them as the tanks fell toward it. Shortly after the lengthy deceleration stage of the Phalanx’s arrival ended, the ship spent four hours freefalling toward the Ring, entering its dark shadow from the upper edge.
“Can we open the shield on the window, Commander?” Aki asked.
“I suppose so. We are going to have to do it eventually.”
Aki floated out of her cocoon into the crew area. She dimmed the lights, looked out the ship’s only window, and gasped.
An endless mountain range of translucent white flames danced in front of her eyes. Staring at the elusive object, the scientist within her tried to make sense of what she was finally getting to see up close. Gazing into it, she started crying, almost hypnotized, reliving the memories of watching her first total solar eclipse when she was nine years old. When she made that connection, she realized that she was looking at the corona of the sun—a crown of plasma burning at over a million degrees.
The lower part of her view was blocked by an object. The corona towered above, beaming rays in a radial pattern reminiscent of the Japanese military’s ensign from the late nineteenth century. Aki tried to change her angle by moving closer to the window, trying to see beyond whatever was in her way. No matter how she shifted her position, the object did not move. Was it part of the ship? Aki wondered if it was one of the propellant tanks. With a start and a shudder, she realized the visual trap she had fallen into and how she had confused herself.