WritersShowcase

Space Blues

He watched her in the distance… Her peachy figure… Colourful shoes… Locks of silky black hair brushed back on purple velvet cushions… Fields of tall windows in the sky of flowing landscapes…

Joe blinked: The polarisation filters needed reversing, -there was actually dust on the viewer console. The small grey dots had given him a real scare. For a panic-filled moment he thought it was an uncharted asteroid belt. His heart still pounding rapidly, he told the T-41 to do an immediate self diagnostic on all systems.

As the seconds ticked by, he kept a hand hovering over the anti-autonomous switch. Life support was of necessity tied into many programs but there were still ways to ensure that computers didn’t control everything. Most new ships used organic intelligence, that was the latest thing, but it was just too expensive.

Still, he reflected, events had worked out well for him. The older System 7’s were going for a song. It had been a flash of inspiration, to buy thousands of once highly sought-after individual modules, and connect them all up in a Julia/Soken formation. It made a one of a kind machine.

<All systems normal Joe.> Meg said in her mellifluous voice.

"Thanks baby."

Joe relaxed a bit, his breathing gradually returning to normal. He leaned back into the comfortable boomchair. At least there was no imminent threat. There were endless possible reasons for the task malfunction. Fractal algorithm based systems were notoriously complex despite the pretty flowing shapes they were known for. Also the problem might have had nothing to do with the machine and could in fact be caused by where he was, -the current location.

"Set up a log of anomalies and start data analysis. Let me know if something shows up."

<Yes Joe> the system replied.

He felt the hairs move on his muscular arms as the static electricity dissipated from the Nav. cabin. The viewer window instantly cleared up, revealing a beautiful empty scene, -pure, pure space. The early explorers had dubbed it the Sahara Quadrant. A fitting name, as emptiness was arguably one of its less debatable attributes. There was literally nothing there, not even anti-matter or fabric resonance. Apparently there never had been.

The Quadrant was a scientist’s nightmare. By all accounts it could not exist, but to their long-suffering chagrin, it did. Every theory or hypothesis that the boffins could throw at it sank resoundingly into its deep deafening silence. It had become a real legend of the time, –at once a disturbing Pandora’s box to some, but to others, a place of hope.

Joe looked out of the window, his mind probing the possibilities that the place embodied, or indeed destroyed. Even language could only just start to encompass its scope, and that was in describing what it was not.

"A song, Meg. Aria per lei."

He wondered for the thousandth time what Megan would say if she knew that her voice was replicated on his AI computer system. But it didn’t really matter what she thought anymore. Regrettably, things between them were broken-down, unresolved... Misunderstandings, changes, expectations. If only she could have understood. If only he… If only… If only if only’s didn’t exist. But that couldn’t be right either. Perhaps he had expected too much of Megan, poor girl.

Of course he wasn’t the most communicative person either. Perhaps unintentionally enigmatic would describe it best. But that wasn’t his fault or anyone else’s. It came down to the fact that really the only person in life that could be considered even remotely dependable was oneself. But even that wasn’t strictly true. Nothing was strictly true anymore. Oddly enough, the Sahara Quadrant was seeming more and more ordinary to him. It was actually starting to make sense. He made no demands of it, and it never failed him.

"Never mind, Meg. Stop song!"

He stared out into the emptiness. It felt like he felt inside. Absolute nothingness, a void. Professor Nettleton would have called it an ‘objective correlative’ moment, and quite rightly so. Perhaps that was why he felt so at home in this Sahara place, this place that wasn’t really a place at all. This…possibility/..impossibility… Yet another enigma.

Recently, some clever-clogs had suggested that the freak quadrant was a result of twin black holes positioned back to back with an interplay of delicately focused, precisely equal event horizons that mirrored each other. Utter claptrap, but some poor fool then had to go and prove it wrong. Meanwhile the upstart was being feted back on Earth, having come up with a theory that allowed the grand old men of science a few moments to regroup and preen their egos.

But it gave Joe another valuable opportunity to explore the Quadrant. It was the fifth such mission he had been asked to carry out. You had to have a permit to go there. Such were the scientists, they hid anything they didn’t understand, because it showed them up as small-minded, shaming them and their perennial claims to infallibility. But it was the human condition in general too.

"Assholes."

He didn’t like talking to himself, but just occasionally didn’t matter.

"Bastards."

He went downstairs to the hold and unpacked the research probe. After getting the analysis systems online he launched it. ‘Launched’ sounded more impressive than what actually happened. But that was the way with procedure, it was always better on paper than in real life.

He ‘launched’ it with his foot, hoping to vent spleen. Instead his swearing reached new depths as his foot crunched painfully against the solid module. It slid morosely, only just making it past the portal’s O2 containment field before coming to rest a mere foot or two from the vessel. Joe pushed it further out with a telescopic pole. Low-tech. So low-tech in fact, that it had to be attached by a cable, radio signals didn’t work in the Quadrant. Another of its fascinating properties.

<Are you OK, Joe?>

Meg’s voice sounded depressingly distant, twice wrenched from him, obscured by the sullen ache from his foot.

"No!"

<I’m sorry.>

"Me too Megan, me too."

And he truly was. There were rare times when he regretted so many things in his life. But repentance was a strange substance. Like its friends Time and Destiny, it was only ever half-there, tapping on the shoulder then disappearing, leaving you to decide if it existed or not. Frankly if the question could be asked, the answer was not so important.

Thankfully there were also many times when he didn’t regret a single moment; clearly everything had been just right, just right, just right. In fact he could sense it, he really could, - each day was tailor-made…

Megan had been tailor-made too. A flower of nature. Thinking of her used to make him so happy, now it turned his emotions inside out.

Of course, to be fair tailors did make clothes from the inside out. That was the system. But to see the outside from the inside was not an easy job. It just didn’t seem possible.

Joe sat cross-legged on the cold metal floor and stared at the tensile cable leading out to the research probe. The atmosphere containment field had a tiny saucer-shaped purple glow where the wire went through it. The plasma and O2 were reacting with the anodised metal strands. He could already smell the faint geranium-like odour. -It was a harmless by-product.

Lying down he did some three finger press-ups and then rested panting on the floor. He stared at the little rivets on the metal tiles. Tiny embossed letters spelled out ‘Made in Ealing.’

It would take a minimum of three days for the probe to get the first results. The idea was to try and pick up even the faintest indication of the Quadrant being a bi-causal phenomenon. The tests were unusual to say the least. Previous attempts had shown that even the most sensitive instruments picked up nothing. The latest idea was to use plants, germinating seeds to analyse how their cell structure reacted to the conditions…

Over the next few days he thought about Megan a lot. There was always something about being on mission which made her seem closer. That feeling of proximity was even more acute in the Quadrant. It was a potent sensation, an amalgam of the beginnings of joy, and the cessation of sorrow. Somehow over the years she had become larger than life, more than the sum of her parts. Perhaps he really had put her on a pedestal. The thought was distasteful, too simplistic by far. There were actually not enough pedestals in the world… he reflected, supine on his bed in an optimistic bid for rest.

He awoke a while later with an unexplained feeling of expectation. Cautiously, trying to keep the mists of sleep near, he glanced at the time out of the corner of his eye. It had been nine hours.

He hadn’t slept like that since… a long time, -it was too early for nostalgia. Stretching his arms out, he looked at the familiar pictures on his wall. Mt. Fuji, Mt. Kilimanjaro, a magnificent oak tree, chalky white cliffs of Dover, a 15th century Green Tara and a relatively modern Kuan Yin.

"Start the coffee please," he said.

<Two minutes, Joe.>

As Meg’s voice faded, there was a flicker of movement on the floor. Joe leaned up on his elbow and froze in consternation. There was a grey cat standing next to his bed, looking straight at him. Joe’s heart began to drum loudly. They were in space -it had to be a hallucination.

He wondered if there was something in the air.

"Check life-support!"

<All systems normal.>

The cat leaped up onto the bed, its claws pulling at the cream-coloured paisley duvet in an alarmingly realistic fashion. It came up to him and purred. Visual and aural hallucinations, he noted to himself. It licked his hand, he could feel its rough tongue. He bent down and sniffed the cat, it did have a sort of animally smell. His senses were definitely compromised.

"Meg, how many life signs are there on board?"

<Two.>

"How many were there yesterday?"

<One>

Joe couldn’t believe his ears. Far from being reassured by Meg’s confirmation that it was a real cat and not a short circuit in his brain, he was now even more flustered. A cat had somehow appeared on the spaceship while he was asleep. It was not a stowaway. His brain almost went numb at the thought.

The cat seemed friendly. It rubbed up against his arm as though it had been missing him for ages. By some bizarre coincidence, it was exactly the sort of cat that he liked, -short-haired, very slim and alert. It was just right.

"Hello Miaow."

Joe liked to use onomatopoeic names for pets. It was a childhood habit. He cradled the purring animal in his arms. It made him feel both relaxed and alarmed at the same time. But he reasoned that there was no point in getting worked up about it. At least he wasn’t seeing things. Meg had cleared that part up.

"Well Miaow, What’s your story, are you an alien or something?"

Caressing the cat’s neck, his fingers found a thin silver chain. A shiver went up his spine, the cat actually belonged to someone. There was a small oval name-plate. The word ‘Miao’ was engraved on it.

He sat up with a jolt. Once again, he didn’t know what to think. It wasn’t impossible to conceive of a cat appearing out of thin air, -he could give that a whirl, but that it should have the very same name that he would have given it? A very demanding task... It was just too weird. The jumps from the theoretically possible to the psychic and back again were dizzying to say the least.

<Coffee is ready!> Meg announced.

Grateful that at least something was working as normal, Joe reached into the Javazza for his coffee mug. The blend tasted just right: one part medium roast to three parts low roast.

He ran his fingers through his hair. It felt good so he did it again, looking wryly at the cat sitting on his bed. He took another sip from his cheerful Tahitian novelty mug and scratched his chin pensively. The coffee tasted excellent… In fact it had never tasted better…

Miao padded over and circled around his legs. Clearly there was no malice in its heart. Animals were amazing. They didn’t talk, but that wasn’t necessarily an indication of low intelligence. The wise knew well that words were the source of all ignorance and discord.

He sat down heavily on the floor gazing at the old oak tree and the green Tara. A noise from Miao caught his attention. The cat seemed alarmed, staring intently at nothing in particular.

"Hey Miao what’s up?" He began to cajole it, then broke off as he felt the spacecraft start to vibrate. It was slow at first but became increasingly violent.

"Visual display of probe!" He called out.

A glance at the live video feed confirmed his worst suspicions. The probe was bobbing around like a cat’s ball of string. Something had gone wrong in the research module.

"Release cable!"

But as he spoke, he remembered that it was no use. He had tied the damn thing by hand.

<I cannot carry out the command.>

Joe got to his feet and stumbled to the hold, but stopped short when he saw the cable whipping about like an enraged snake. Stronger than diamond fibre, the anodised wire was not going to snap any time soon. If he didn’t do something quickly, the whole vessel would be torn to bits. Joe kicked himself for not leaving an auto-release. With all the unknowns involved, the situation was incredibly dangerous.

He hurried back to the Nav. cabin with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The cat weaved about his legs as Joe tried to think of a way to detach the tether. From the exponential increase of activity, it was clear that soon the ship would be tossed about like an autumn leaf before disintegrating.

"Ok, it’s official, we’re in deep shit!"

The cat was silent. Joe tried to be calm for its sake, the animal didn’t deserve to be scared. He picked it up and held it close. Looking into its eyes, Joe gained the cat’s attention and then deliberately blinked a few times. Blinking was respect, in Catese.

Holding the animal, he sat down in the boomchair, still almost motionless thanks to aerogel sync-buffers.

<Miao! Miao! Where are you?>

Joe had to smile despite the perilous situation. -The vibrations had muddled up the computer’s brain. Meg was talking to the cat! Truly bizarre! What a way to go.

<Miao! Come here right now!>

Joe looked up with a start. There was something different about the voice. It seemed alive. There were intonations he hadn’t programmed in to the system. The cat seemed to agree. It jumped out of his arms and walked around the cabin, clearly wondering where the voice had come from.

<Miao! There you are. Bad little boy!>

The cat turned to face the passageway. Joe watched, not daring to hope, yet hoping all the same. A figure appeared in the shaking doorway.

It was Megan. She saw Joe, her eyes widened.

"Joe!"

And she was in his arms. It was an amazing moment, like finding something long-lost, right when it was needed most. He realised with surprise that everything felt wonderful again. His soul was singing. It took him a few moments just to recognise the sound, it had been so long since the morning chorus. Optimism came rushing in, like a summer tide heavy with flower petals.

Megan’s hair was cool against his face. He could feel his body beginning to smile. Energy was a mystery. He recognised her scent. It was familiar yet there was also something extra, a hint of geranium.

His brain suddenly clicked into action. That was the answer. The O2 field.

"Re-route power to the containment field at the portal!"

The craft began to jerk as individual strands of wire heated up in the plasma field and snapped. Finally the whole cable gave way with a marrow-quaking twang. There was stillness.

He was saved and Megan was in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" He asked reverently clasping her slender hands in his.

"I’m doing research on the Neucleon!"

"What’s that?"

"It’s the link between universes, and everything else."

He took in her answer slowly.

"You’re not from this reality are you?" He asked, but already knew the answer. Her eyes were a slightly different colour from his Megan.

"No. I followed Miao. He must have sensed that you were near and jumped across," she said, running her cool slender fingers over his brow. "You look sad! Have I been giving you a hard time in this world?" Megan asked with a light-hearted grin.

He made a helpless gesture with his hands.

"We’re not together in this reality. You’re back on Earth. Don’t ask, it’s a sad story. Maybe I messed up, one way or another."

She looked saddened and kissed him instantly. As they embraced, old tears rolled down his face. Joe felt good and wondered if this time he might actually manage to cry the sadness away.

They looked at the pictures on the wall together, coffee mugs in hand. She snuggled closer into his arms. Miao lay beside them.

"So where am I in your universe?" Joe asked.

"You’re on the ship with me. We both work in space."

"Tell me more about the… Neucleon," he said, slowly caressing her side. Her body was heavenly, holy ground. ‘Et in arcadia ego sum’ –he thought, thanking the universe and brimming with contentment. Being, consciousness, bliss, surely they were here in force.

She kissed him with luscious lips and then explained more.

"This area is the Neucleon. You see, every particle or wave has in it a pure emptiness, surrounded by a thin film of what can only be roughly described as anti anti anti-matter. This place is made of the stuff. Basically anything can happen here. Very hard to describe. It’s easier to just feel it."

"Can you feel it?" He asked curiously.

"Hard to say. The Way that can be named is not the eternal way."

"That sounds familiar. You’re quoting Lao Tsu?"

"Oh yes, they call him the fore-father of tertiary knowledge. Ironic isn’t it?" Megan said laughing. Joe agreed: it was poetic justice, the scientists having to study mystical sacred texts to gain understanding, and their moribund version of peace –like butterfly collections.

"Is it easy to jump realities?" He asked.

"I don’t know, it just happens."

Joe felt a mixture of conflicting emotions, he was happy that Megan was there, but also dismayed that she was unable to get back to her own reality.

"Don’t worry, things will work out," she said softly, her head resting against his chest. He felt better. It was odd how often she knew what he was thinking.

<There is something approaching,> Meg announced.

Megan looked at Joe.

"You put my voice on the computer system? How sweet!"

He went red.

"Visual display," he called out hurriedly.

There was a luminous object approaching the T-41. It was so radiant that he couldn’t make out its shape or size. It was not a ship.

"What’s that?" He asked Megan anxiously.

"You’ll see."

A bright light appeared in the room.

It came up to Joe and hovered above his head.

The whole ship seemed to become translucent as though the brightness was able to pass though everything.

He held his hand out and touched the brilliant orb. His whole body glowed for a moment.

The light disappeared.

Joe knew instinctively what had just happened.

He could see the inside and the outside of life at the same time.

He realised that he always could, it was never far.

A huge smile on his face, Joe looked at Megan.

He noticed that he had only ever seen a fraction of her beauty. Yet even that fraction had been enough to make all the difference.

He watched her lips and her beloved features with immense enjoyment as she began to speak.

"So space-man, I’d better be back to you; on the other side of the blue."

He smiled, it was a nice song, he was glad that she liked it too.

"I love you," she said and disappeared.

Miao also vanished moments later..

Joe set propulsion and then relaxed in the Nav. cabin, sipping his mug of coffee.

Joe watched Megan hug Joe, telling him about how she met him in a parallel universe. She looked around and winked at him. Joe knew that she could see him watching her.

<You have a message from Earth,> the computer announced.

Fin

The painful warrior famoused for might,

After a thousand victories once foiled

Is from the book of honour razed quite,

And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.

     Then happy I, that love and am beloved

     Where I may not remove nor be removed.

WS. Sonnet 25

(The Sahara Quadrant is Alive and in Everything.)

© Anwar St.Clair 2005

Anwar St Clair