M114
From Create Your Own Story
PLANET M114
After the first two or three days, after the newness of the situation had worn off, the Officers and Crew of the United Planets Cruiser 5-EX fell into the mind-numbing boredom of doing the same thing, seeing the same faces, staring at the same walls over and over again that had effected Space Travelers since the early days of manned space flight. Lieutenant Faraday, as the First Officer did his best to combat the situation. Chess Tournaments were organized. He required every man to participate in thirty minutes of supervised calisthenics each day. The lighting on the mess deck was varied to simulate the passage of time. Soft white in the morning and evening, bright white at mid day, and warm white at night. And of course each bunk had a terminal for the library computer built into the bottom of the next bunk above it so that the men could read in bed.
But still, three weeks in Hyper-space is three weeks in Hyper-space. So it was that when the alarm sounded in the control room that the ship was approaching their ’jump point’, a ripple of excitement went through the craft. Even the seasoned Captain was not immune and he manned the Command Chair minutes after the alarm, although it would be another two hours before they actually reached the position. The time was spent in idle chatter, eyes merely flickering over the indicators. Although checking them more often than they did during a ’normal’ watch.
The second, thirty minute alarm sounded and Commander Smith flicked a switch and leaned towards the microphone on his console. "Now hear this. All hands to your De-Acceleration Stations. All hands to your De-Acceleration Stations."
The five men in the Control Room worked efficiently and silently, exchanging only the necessary words needed to align the ship for it's "jump" out of Hyper-Space. Finally, Commander Smith was satisfied everything was ready and he sounded the Klaxon. The Boatswain announced "All bunks green! Green for Go." There were other verbal reports and two minutes before the jump, Commander Smith turned the six knobs to `Auto' and stood up. "DeCel, Gentleman!"
He strode over to the row of circles on the raised platform on the far side of the Main Control Room. Two poles ran from deck to overhead and once Commander Smith stepped into his circle and flipped the overhead switch, he gripped the poles firmly, spreading his feet apart so that each was pressed against a pole. The others did the same and they all awaited there for the jump. The Main Control Room, indeed the entire interior of the ship, glowed a deep yellow, darkening into orange and finally into red as the space-time continuum was literally ripped apart for a few seconds. The red quickly became green and then all was normal. The high pitched drone of the force shields surrounding each individual faded away and the standing men staggered back to their shaking their heads and rolling their shoulders.
“Man, I really hate this shit,” Lieutenant Moonwalker muttered as he resumed his station.
“Don’t you eventually get used to it?” Ensign Palmer asked.
His query was met with brief laughter and the sound of four voices, including Commander Smith’s, going, “Nooooo.”
“Alright, Mike, stay sharp,” Smith said, gripping the joystick and preparing to punch buttons. “I’m taking us in.”
Fifteen minutes later the 5-EX was firing its repulssor ray as the craft slowly lowered to the surface. The center support column twirled downward and the three support columns/stairs lowered. After a procedure that took five minutes of switch flipping and orders issued and acknowledge, Commander Smith leaned back in his chair and said, “Alright, Gentlemen, let’s go calling. I hope our hosts don’t mind us just ‘dropping in’ like this.”
“Well, I tried raising them on the radio for over an hour,” Lieutenant Moonwalker shrugged.
“They’ve been here for twenty years,” Commander Smith replied. “And they weren’t expecting anyone to follow. Have to hand it to them for dedication to their profession… A one way trip for research, knowing there was no way home.” He looked over to Able-Bodied Spacemen Harrison Jones and Forrest Ripley. Both men were PhD’s in their respective fields, Archaeology and Xenology, but onboard the 5-EX, they were just Enlisted Men. The ‘price’ they had to pay for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Both men nodded eagerly and began to speak at once, but Commander Smith held up his hand for silence
“Standard side-arms and defense perimeter, Skipper?” Lieutenant Faraday asked.
Commander Smith paused. Considered. Then shook his head. “No. The men have been coped up for three weeks and there are only two dozen people on this otherwise dead world.. Let’em stretch their legs.”
Despite this minor breech in Protocol, Commander Smith still allowed the Boatswain and two Able-bodied Spacemen to go down the ramp ahead of him.
“Dead world is right,” Commander Smith commented as he scanned the horizon and saw nothing but rock and sand, ash and rubble. “Of course, that‘s what you live for, isn‘t it Jones?”
Spaceman Jones had the look of a five-year on Christmas morning staring at the presents under the tree. “Civilization dead long before the pyramids were built,” he uttered, his eyes scanning the horizon, not even glancing at Commander Smith.
“You men stay close to the ship,” Commander Smith called out to those not actively involved in this assignment. “Boatswain, don’t let ‘em stray. And what’s with you, Cookie?” He gestured towards Petty Officer Second Class Callahan.
“Oh, this?” Callahan put his hand over the blaster on his hip. “Mister Faraday said it was alright for me to wear one. You never know, Captain.”
Commander Smith smiled indulgently. Technically he should have at least three armed sentries posted around the ship and almost everyone else should still be onboard. “Just don’t draw it without my orders. Don’t think you’ll find any ‘possums to be shooting at.”
“Dang right shame, Captain,” Petty Officer Callahan replied with a heavy Southern drawl. “I make a mean ‘Possum Stew.”
“Captain, over there,” the Able-bodied Spaceman Jones pointed to a sand dune where a figure was emerging. A man, appearing to be in his late forties or early fifties, was approaching. Whatever color his long flowing robe had once been had long faded. The hem and bottom of the sleeves were worn and frayed. His boots scuffed. He had the craggily, leathered face of one who has spent years, decades even, squinting into the sun. Jones started to go towards him but Smith called out, “As you were, Spaceman!” The Captain of the ship took a few steps forward so that once more he was the closest person to the approaching person.
“Who… who are you people,” the figure asked when he neared the collecting group of Spacemen who were forming a semi-circle around him. His eyes kept darting from the Spacemen to the ship and back to the Spacemen again. “We… we saw the flash of your retros and heard your loud whirling sounds.”
“I am Commander Richard Smith of the United Planets Cruiser 5-EX,” the Captain answered as he walked towards the man to meet him. “This is Lieutenant Moonwalker, my Second Officer.” He looked back over his shoulder and gestured for Jones to join them. “This is Professor Jones of Delphi University.”
“How… How did you get here?” The man’s gaze was focused on the 5-Ex, obviously the answer to his question. Tearing his eyes away from the ship, he blinked up at Smith. “And why?”
“The Light Barrier has been broken,” Commander Smith smiled at the man. “It only took us twenty days to get here.”
“Twenty… twenty days,” the man repeated, still in a state of shock. “But… It… it took us twenty *years*.”
Smith and Moonwalker exchanged smiling looks. “I know. Like I said. We are now able to travel faster than the speed of light.” Smith looked over the man’s shoulder, out towards the desert wastes where he had come from. “Where are the others?”
“Others?” the man repeated. Then he shook his head as if reminded of something. “Oh… Yes. The others.” Again he looked up at Smith. “Dead. All dead… Except…”
Instinctively Moonwalker and the Boatswain stepped forward, flanking their Captain. “What do you mean dead?”
The man rubbed his hand over his mouth, his brow knitted as if in concentration. “Soon after we arrived. They’re… they’re buried behind the hut.” He jerked his head to a half sunken structure in the soil. It appeared to be made of mud-dried bricks. Possible of alien construction. Finally the reality of the situation seemed to be settling over him and he said, “Forgive me. I am Professor Carter. Lead Archeologist from Troy University. Come, uh, let me offer you something to drink.”
“Wait a minute, Professor,” Commander Smith said, “I want to know how the others died.”
“And you said ‘except’,” Jones piped in. “Except who?”
Smith looked over his shoulder at Jones, nodded, and looked back at Carter, awaiting his answer.
“Uh, my wife,” Professor Carter replied. “She’s, uh, she’s out by the dig.”
“Larry, take Jones and Ripley with you and bring her here,” Commander Smith told his Second Officer. “I’ll stay here and talk to Professor Carter.”
“No. Wait, you mustn’t,” Professor Carter said, visibly agitated. Moonwalker looked at Smith who merely nodded.
“It’ll be alright Professor Carter,” Spaceman Jones stepped up to the man, reached down and grabbed his right hand in both of his. “We have so much to talk about. It is such an honor to meet you.” Professor Carter stared down at his hand being pumped up and down, as if he had forgotten about the custom of shaking hands. Before he could speak, Lieutenant Moonwalker called out, “Alright, Jones. Ripley. Come with me.”
Commander Smith took Professor Carter’s elbow and steered him towards the dug-out. Jones looked back over his shoulder as he followed Lieutenant Moonwalker towards the dunes. “You are a Legend within our circle, Professor. Your discoveries will make you famous throughout the Solar System!”
