A Beginning

Jim wasn't quite sure where all this fresh new feeling was coming from. Perhaps it was an escape from the fear and pressure he'd been under for so long now. "Where did it begin?", he asked himself. He remembered a glance she'd sent his way, a curious inquiry.  The last time he'd seen something like that was way back in grade school, Sheila Somers and her glance back at him after he'd come in to the classroom late and out of breath from running. It was more like a "what's really going on" questioning look. He never really thought of Sheila that way until then. For that matter, he'd never thought of girls that way at all till then. Here it started again, way out here, deep in exospace. It was odd. The whole thing was like a strange dream. Gosh, she was pretty though,  especially in that dress with those flowers and that incredible music from centuries ago. It was like they were alone on the beach in Hawaii, after this "see who you like the most" dance and there they were looking at each other and knowing.  

Centuries ago and ancient Hawaiian customs seemed more appropriate and workable than anything today. Here it was 2314 and all he had was one close friend and something of a crew and these pirates all over him. His career had degenerated into this hopeless mess! He'd be lucky to pull out of this with his life, let alone his ship, and what about the hostages? Surely life was better hundreds of years ago on the shores of the Hawaiian Islands. He would have had even darker thoughts if Nomi didn't appear at his cabin door. "Can I speak to you please Captain Wallace?" 

Here Comes 2014!

It was minus three degrees Fahrenheit early this morning. Here comes the Vermont winter! I took some pictures from my iPhone out front of the house, but I can't seem to get them uploaded onto Blogger.
So much for technology.
I have to arrange my day carefully today and take advantage of all the time off from work. I'd like to write more of my new story about piracy in the space age - a comedy. I'll do that and put it up for review onto Blogger. We'll see what happens. Don't forget your resolutions!!

Getting Colder

It had been fairly warm all day yesterday, but it was close to 16 degrees Fahrenheit on the thermometer just outside my kitchen window this morning, and headed for minus 13 overnight according to the weather forecast on the weather.gov website. So it would be good to wear an extra pair of socks, make sure the pets are warm and snuggle in for the night!
We're apparently at the beginning of a new era, judging by the large social, economic and technological changes that have taken place over the past few decades.
With "new years" coming up in just one day, I think it would be a good idea to look at the future over a larger time period than just this year coming - at least for now. Just how do you see the future taking shape? What would you like to happen? What new challenges do you think might prove the most productive?
Things like that!
The "great grand-children" postulates. Safer, smaller, more economical cars - easier to learn algebra - more stable families - stuff like that!
I'll write up my own list and publish it on Wednesday. How's that?

Drive carefully!

  Bill

A "No Go" in Hardwick

Cold this morning - very cold - and following a disappointing day yesterday, could have made it feel even colder than it was! I had to go out and get more propane at the gas station. It's a problem keeping the garage from freezing in the winter, and it's not even quite winter yet! So the morning wasn't as bright and happy as it should have been! I think the birds and squirrels agree about that! I put extra rations of peanuts into their feeder and I don't think they got enough - they really need a lot of food to combat this cold. It's about our sixth winter up here and I think we're as well prepared as we've ever been. It's just come a bit early this time!
I went down to Hardwick for the first time to see about a teaching job - strictly no go. The only thing that might prove good about it is I won't have to work there. It was hard to find much to like about the place, so run down and understaffed. The math teacher seemed personable, but I though she was a student when I first saw her and it quite set me back when she was introduced to me as a teacher.  She looked about 16 or 17. I imagine that having a retired teacher, like myself, apply for the job could have been similarly disconcerting. I certainly don't like to think that way about myself, but it could be. C'est la vie.

Channukah and Thanksgiving eclipse

According to one article I read, Channukah and Thanksgiving will not collide for another 79,000 years! So it's a special event! The morning was wet, cold and slushy. It's currently snowing "white" again and moderately with a forecast of another 2 - 4 inches or so. It promises to be a nice Thanksgiving, and with Channukah occuring at the same time it should be extra interesting. Two different worlds and two different calendars and two different meanings, all happening at the same time. There are so many places on this earth totally removed from either holiday. You become very objective about this, possibly like the people who make calendars to hang on the wall.

Cold Today

It was cold today; biting, threatening cold. My modem had failed and the internet had to be accessed by iphone. Over the weekend, my enthusiasm had waned. My other computer had failed as well. What was going on? I'd hoped things would improve in many very important areas and suddenly, with the arrival of the new "Fairpoint" modem, all became very unhappy indeed. It was like an electronic filter had been installed here at the creative and communication terminal and it warped most of my good intentions.
Well. we'll see!

After the Dance

The girls were something else to perceive. They wore what appeared to be grass

skirts with flowers and brightly colored pieces of cloth all sewn up to look like

what Nomi thought Hawaiian hula girls should look like. Several  of her troupe

were quite overweight. Several were very young and small bodied. Nomi herself

had an intensely attractive figure as she led the rest of the girls. The music was

loud and the dance was sensual, rhythmic and well balanced with the music.

Nomi obviously had a gift that, till now, Jim barely suspected. It's difficult to

describe the effect of Miranda's music and the dancing along with the interrupted

plan and subsequent confusion. The Vulture appeared hypnotized by it all, as if

everything that happened was part of the show. Theatre has a power all its own.

People allow it to continue and produce its effects, even strange and threatening

as the case might be. Here is what probably happened. There is no other rational

explanation!

The girls were still dancing as the pirates were being locked up in the brig. Nomi

still held most of Captain Wallace's attention. Their eyes met in a moment that

must have been pure glee,  like when you bet on a long shot and it came from

behind and you and the object of your affection were jumping up and down at the

same time, in the same rhythm, and everything else that could be right, was.

Indian Winter

It's 6:40 pm according to the little clock on the lower right of this computer. It's very dark out - and cold!

Just that quickly and we jump from Indian Summer to Indian Winter - a concept that I recently invented, though I feel sure it's been invented before by many others. This time it represents an earlier winter climate than usual. Up here in northern Vermont, though, early winters are quite common, at least in my short experience here of about six years. Yesterday also marked the first day of a return to standard time from daylight savings time. Again, the computer clock proved the correct and timely, excuse me, reference to this fact. "It", or some technician with a better worked out schedule system than most people, also reminded me of my daughter in law's birthday - yesteday in fact, who my friends are, and that I should back up my files. These are pretty handy little machines, eh? Back to Indian Winter...

It gets very cold up here in northern Vermont where I live. We're just six miles from the Canadian border. I once read minus 28 degrees Fahrenheit directly off a thermometer which I held in my hand on the deck outside my front door. This was my first winter up here and I was curious. It was about one o'clock in the morning and was getting colder fast! I've never measured 40 below, but I've heard people speak about it and I believe I felt it through the wall of my bedroom! The cold of winter never penetrated the insulation of my home like that before! Well, it was only 19 degrees at the kitchen window thermometer, just outside the window where I can see it, when I glanced out this morning. That's not very cold, not even for November, but it was about 80 degrees or so just a few days ago, when I wrote about Indian Summer and that's quite a contrast. Fast, sudden, and I fear too many little birds and small animals fell in the surprise of it! I feel sorry for them. Indian Winter doesn't describe this weather phenomenon. Early Winter Shock would be better!

Happy Halloween!

I hope you were successful last evening in your hunt for treats!

I so loved this holiday when I was a child that I celebrate it even today as my own personal new years celebration, along with my closest family and friends! So, Happy New Year!!

A little drive around the Vermont countryside proved very rewarding. The chocolate candy was especially fine. The day was very warm for this time of year, but it rained a lot earlier this morning. Still, it was a nice afternoon.

I'm starting my study of communiction and I'm excited about it. It seems to be the make/break of success on this planet. So very, very important. So, what is it? Well, yeah - the interchange of ideas - communication particles, words, musical notes, symbols, smiles and all of that. Well, I'm sure most of you have tried that and even had occasional success at it. "Hello!", you say, and you get back - "Hi!" and you feel all warm and good. So you keep doing this, see, and it gets better and better and soon you're laughing. You found the answer! Indeed, you have. Communication is one of the easiest things to contact there ever was! You think about it and it's there! Right there - sing a song! Dance! Don't just listen to me. Try it yourself - see what happens.

So if it's so simple, why is this world having such a problem with it? That's such a good question, that I'm going to leave it there for you and come back to it.

It's actually way up there! It's way way up there for most people - beyond the stars. Yet it's so powerful that it goes right through everying - woosh bang - from zillions of miles away, like so many things that people ascribe to "higher powers". Apparently, we all have the innate ability to communicate freely and easily on our own determinism and with out own tools, but we often fall short of the mark. Ask any publisher, any marketing agency, any media manager. It's not as easy as you'd think, even though it probably is as easy as you think when you really know how.

So along with the development of the story, "Dance of the Deep", we're going to run a parallel account of how to communicate it to those who wish to read it or view it as a play or video of some sort.

Indian Summer Continued

The two paper birches that had stood in front of the kitchen window for thirty years or so had been cut down and cleared from the front yard. This morning  the open space was one great big beautiful green  lake that just invited you to jump in. It was  Indian Summer and very late September in Vermont.  You just don't get days like this any more.  I watched the dog sniffing along the edge of our driveway. I caught many of the fine scents of the little blue fall flowers myself. Honey bees buzzed about. It was a fresh morning. I was thinking "this must be like a cup of coffee for the dog" and just then he licked the ground and sampled a bit of a thick mulch of dead ground leaves and twigs and live grasses. I could smell how sweet it was myself. The morning was so fine, you could just drink it down. The dog did just that!

I sharpened the cutters on the chain saw. It would have been a perfect day if I could've started it easily. But it just wouldn't happen. Once it was flooded, it was all over. I just packed it away for tomorrow. Perhaps it was too nice a day to work.

Indian Summer

Somehow it became warm again early today! The thermometer attached just outside my kitchen window was reading 80 degrees in the sunshine! Here it is summer again! Summer is a valuable thing  up here in northern Vermont! Time to get some wood cut and time to rake the leaves off the lawn. Time to work outside where ordinarily it wouldn't be advisable for the wind and wet and cold of just last week. Winter does come in hard, fast and sudden around here. You turn around and you're looking for snowflakes. "Thunk", just like that! "Boom" - it's winter!
So, how's it gonna be three hundred years from now? Will there still be Indian Summer here in the east of the United States when Jim Wallace gets back the the earth - if he gets back?
It would be nice to put in a section of Jim just wishing to be home in late september - early october, all comfortable and warm , watching the birds and squirrels out of his front window, the smell of fresh coffee and roasting turkey, the smiles and laughter of his family.

"Did you ever think you'd get back here for "Halloween Night" and  the children with their pranks again?" Sally asked him as she brought over a hot cup of coffee and sat down next to him. "I nearly cried once thinking exactly that." Jim smiled. It was true. I prayed. I actually prayed that I would, but I didn't know. "I knew you were in trouble. I always know when you're in trouble. I prayed too."
Sally said as she stood up to bring over some packages. "What have you got there", Jim watched curiously as the pirate costumes unfolded in front of him. "Oh no!" He pleaded as they both started to laugh. "You didn't!"

Thunderstorms

Well, last night was scary, close, noisy for the lightning and thunder. The power went off for a few hours. I'm not really sure how long since I had gone to sleep early and woke to a very dark room and house. Flashlight and cell phone soon solved most of my problems, except for a cup of coffee. The water pressure was down too low to force up any water from the well. I had some left over coffee - a few sips. I put this in a small pot and heated it on the barbeque. Soon I was settled and had made my plans and went back to sleep. Shortly the lights went back on and there was water running in the bathroom. I made a fresh pot of coffee, grabbed a handful of sour cream and onion potato chips and thanked goodness for the speed and efficiency of our happy little community, Frito Lay,  and the Vermont Electric Cooperative. What a great world we live in!

Counting the Take

 

Captain Penance stood with what appeared to be a clipboard at the head of the line he'd ordered formed. One of the Explorer VI's crew after another was sized up as he wrote notes and spoke to them quietly. "Hmmm, I'm wonderin' what makes the likes of you come so far out now'!  I'll bet they miss you down in Minnesota eh?" He smiled at the geologist as he estimatedthe price he'd be able to pull for him. He looked them over like they were part of some auction. When he got to a girl, he was no less rude, adding very pirate like comments. It all made Captain Wallace very nervous and angry inside. He had to conceal this as carefully as any card player playing for very high stakes. He had to think, think, think. "There must be some way through this."

The Vulture had pulled a scarf off the neck of one of the girls and was making crude remarks just as the cook came in to announce dinner. It was fortunate timing, because it gave Captain Wallace time to recompose himself.

"Dinner's ready Captain". He spoke to Captain Wallace.

The Stage is Set

 

The stage was set. It just wasn't going to get any better than this. Ravenna would come out with the girls all dressed in their grass skirts and leis. This would be distraction enough. The Miranda would be powered on and the music would start, loud and rhythmic. Booming drums and loud singing with some background guitar, bass, and bells. Two bars in and Miranda starts the "DSA Boarding" announcement. The holographed  officers appear at the rear and front of the galley. Heshy opens the arms cabinet and starts to distribute the weapons as planned. Only it doesn't go like that! Miranda is, after all, an electronic program. She's not real. She plays the music and then;  "you are always getting into fixes Jimmy, my little friend."...It stuns everybody. Heshy must have pushed a wrong button somehow. In the history of man and space, of theatre and art, no one has ever recovered  quicker than Captain Wallace. In a split second he screams at Heshy. "Lieutenant Hereschoff what is going on? You moron! Open the weapons cases. Do as they say!" Captain Wallace is screaming louder than he ever has before in his life. "Distribute the weapons now." Meanwhile the girls are moving in a frenzy of loud music, dancing, fear, loud screaming and confusion. "Take these men below", to lieutenant Hereschoff, and "we've been boarded", in the manner of a director getting a play back on course. The oddity was that everyone, including the pirates, seemed to know exactly where to go. 

"C'mon" , Nathan Stokes, prodded one of the pirate crew hard in the middle of his back with the weapon muzzle. Hard alloy that could become white hot in an instant pushed him through the brig opening. "Ya'll stay there now you scum", he sounded like an old sea story. It must have been the Miranda program catching up with the action. Heshy watched in amazement as the saga unfolded, and he was a key player. It was odd all right, but what was imporant was that all the pirates were now effectively locked up.

Meanwhile, Miranda was piping in old sea shanties, that had all the crew smiling broadly despite any fear or confusion. "God Bless Ya Miranda! - drink up me hearties", Captain Wallace joined right in.

   

Would You Like to Dance

Would You Like to Dance?

 

The passenger's were just about back to the galley and Jim was considering how much money they would lose on the salvage. He had decided to put as much distance between them and the Vulture as possible and never look back. "Kidnapping", was this guy totally crazy?  - probably!"

"Any questions?", Jim asked. "You don't seem to have any activities for the ladies", Ravenna asked. With all those gorgeous black curls, it didn't take much thought for Captain Wallace to respond. "Yes, we're an all male crew, but there's plenty of arts and crafts down in the library as well as excellent music. You could practice a dance or two and entertain the crew, perhaps a show." "That sounds like a very good idea Captain Wallace."  Her smile kept him awake nights.

Addressing the New Passengers

"All right now. Please settle down. We have about a year of travel and layovers ahead of us and I want you to have some idea of how this journey will differ from that of your voyage on Explorer VI". Captain Wallace was momentarily distracted by some comments in the back of the galley where they were assembled. "Yes, I know your voyage was badly interrupted, but that's no reason to interrupt me." There was some laughter. The crew and scientists that had been aboard the Explorer VI were still blaming the deep space agency, the manufacturers of their ship and each other. This was going to be difficult. "We've already gone over this with Captain Kayce and his crew. Captain Kayce, of course, will be responsible for all of your activities till you're home. This meeting is just to familiarize you with myself and our crew and our needs and rules while you are on board." Ravenna began to squirm a bit in her seat. She could feel the force of Captain Wallace as he assumed control. "Lieutenant Hereschoff will take you on an orientation tour of our ship. Any questions should be directed to him. He's our first mate and that's his job. When you're comfortable here, Captain Kayce will take over and you can resume your Explorer VI program from there." Short and to the point, Captain Wallace took less than a minute to organize a year's activities for the newcomers. There was a general satisfaction with this, a renewed faith of sorts with the Deep Space Agency.

Boarding Party

Boarding of the New Horizons II

 

There was something wrong with this inspection. Jim's attitude shifted from a feeling that something odd was afoot to one of genuine worry and concern about where he stowed his firearm  as he watched the boarding crew climb up toward the bridge. "They're not using safety grips on the handholds", he thought. "Their clothing could catch any number of places" he wondered. "They're moving far too quickly. They're not inspecting anything. They want the ship." Captain Wallace barked an order to Lieutenant Hereschoff.  "Slam the hatch - close it.", just as the form of "The Vulture" began to emerge through the hatch opening. "Not so fast Captain, we'll be giving the orders from now on." The foul smell of "The Vulture", Captain Penance as he preferred on shipboard, along with the reptilian hiss in many of his slurred words entered the cabin with him and his band of pirates dressed as Port Guard.

Jim's heart sank as Captain Penance began to re-plot a course and speak over the intercom. "Dear passengers and crew this is Captain Penance. We will be following a somewhat different course than we had previously planned. Your safety and arrival at Port Grissom depends totally on the willingness of your family and friends to transfer the funds we've requested within the time limit we've determined. I'm sure there'll be no problem. Enjoy your dinner. Out."

Miranda

Miranda

The Miranda apparatus was a simple standard holographic projector, a square box about eighteen inches along a side and a few inches high. These were a few hundred years old in design,  perhaps longer in concept. Humid and redusted mist reflected tiny beams of light from three different points on the base. A three point coincidence became luminous. The design for the Miranda was in no way significant. The program was. Miranda, herself, in fact, was quickly becoming the most popular and sought after personality in the system!

She had evolved, many claimed, from the 2000 days out programs that first appeared about 100 years ago. The comic line was very similar. "If you're mad enough to be out here this long and watching this program, only then are you fit to tolerate, understand,  and gain from the material."  It was an hilarious series of programs. Extremely well done technically and it sold a good many products as well. The 2000 day out programs would not open unless you were actually 2000 days past your launch time and significantly distant from the earth as well! It threatened to explode your brains if you tampered with its workings as well as inform your mother. That kind of silly humor. But it kept you entertained and cracked right through the boredom at times.

Miranda was something else again though. Miranda was a person, an extremely wise, intelligent, and very funny person, or, at least, that's how she was presented. Long flowing silver white hair, an extravagant costume, usually an absurd hat, and equally absurd earrings and jewelry. She was always concerned about her appearance and fussed about constantly, preening herself, perhaps changing her hat or scarf or something. She was funny! Her voice was funny. "Weeeell, she would start, in answer to a question for example, covering at least two octaves of pitch, "thees deepends, of course, on how you look at eet" in some obscure accent. The true humor, though, was in the content of her replies and the little movements and self-satisfaction she would get from its completion.

A perfect example was now when Captain Wallace and his crew found themselves reaching for relief in Miranda's viewpoint of their impossible situation.

"We're in a fix Miranda!"  "I can see that!", as she looked around the cabin. "You are always getting into fixes Jimmy, my little friend. Did you ever think about that?" She turned directly to him, raised her head and jiggled her earrings with a quick movement of her head as if to add punctuation to her question.

The Dance of the Deep

The Dance

The galley was the largest open chamber on the ship with a flat open deck. The Vulture sat directly behind Captain Wallace reeking foul odors. He seemed poised to strike and kill like a giant cobra. "Where is she?", he groaned . "They're bringing her up now", answered Captain Wallace, forcing away any show of fear. He had actually practiced looking and sounding ugly in front of a mirror in the head before coming down. He never felt or looked more stupid in his life he thought. "Let's have some damned music Hereshoff!", he shouted in the nastiest voice he could muster. "She'll be out in a minute Captain", Hereshoff replied. "The music's ready for her now." Hereshoff had dug up a recording of some old exotic oriental music from heaven knows where. He was resourceful. You could hear Ravenna's loud protests as she was brought down the  passageway and into the galley. "Shut up" you damned ****", again as mean as he could make it sound. "Dance to the music. You can dance can't you!", Captain Wallace shouted and nodded to Hereshoff to start the recording. A very loud beating drum began to vibrate the very bulkhead it seemed and the Vulture let out a sound that could have meant he was pleased.

"There. There you are dear. Show us your dance that we might spare you for our entertainment". Captain Wallace hoped he sounded believable. Ravenna looked his way. She had reddened considerably. She caught his message entirely. Could she dance? She was a woman. Of course she could dance. Something else was going on here though. She'd play it by ear.

The Milkweed Tornado

The Milkweed Tornado

Henry's father looked down at his young son and asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up.

Henry answered in his little boy milkweed voice full of hope, pride and enthusiasm. "I want to be a really big milkweed just like you Dad, as big as a tree! And I want to grow really big seed pods and pop them open in the fall and have them all fly up to the heavens and swirl around and land in every corner of the earth!!"  Henry's voice grew louder and prouder and more enthusiastic as he spoke.

Henry's father looked down at his son and smiled. There was a time when he too had hopes and dreams like that. Sometimes in the fall he could even recall the exhilaration of his own youth as he let fly with his own explosive bursts of seeds.

"Anything else Henry?",  his father asked.  Henry was all bright eyed now as he stared up into the blue Vermont summer sky. "Yes, Dad", Henry replied. "I want my seeds to sweep up and soar so high and be so many that they glimmer and glow and smell so sweet that people know just how fine and sweet and good we milkweed are and name their children after us." You could just about see Henry shining as he spoke and stared up at the blue sky through some low hanging sugar maple branches. Certainly the trees heard Henry's answer to his father. They swayed in approval.

It was October third of that same year and a low pressure system had moved across the country and made its way over northern Vermont. The temperatures and winds were perfect for seed flight. Thousands and thousands of milkweed plants, perhaps tens or hundreds of thousands, let fly simultaneously with their precious flying seeds. Up and out and up and swirling with the new winds. Perhaps because of the way they absorbed heat or added their momentum to the swirling winds, for whatever reason,  a powerful maelstrom built and swirled and rose and rose higher and highter, Later, the meteorologists would call it an anomaly caused by weather coincidences. The fact remains that Henry and his family and all the rest of the plants and trees and even the birds and chipmunks all knew the real reason that the Milkweed Tornado occurred. Up it flew and swirled, all silvery shining and sweet and beautiful. Silvery white it was and many people who saw it were sure it was a sign and renewed their faith. It seemed to echo the goodness and power of nature and the seasons of growing. Certainly there was some fine spiritual power behind it all as it flew round the whole earth dropping these little milkweed seeds.

Assessing the Damage

"We'll solve it", Hereshoff answered. "Yeah, we'll solve it. You mean I'll solve it, because I always do. Because I have to solve it is why!" Without giving Hereshoff time to even think about what he said, Captain Wallace started on the solution. "Can that ladder fall off?",  he asked. "I don't think so.", Hereshoff paused, "Unless we hit some atmosphere or something." "Something?, What?" Hereshoff began to anger. He had a slow fuse. He was always like that. "You know, I'm the one that got you through school! How can you call me stupid? Sir!" "I didn't call you stupid. I said it looked stupid!" "Turbulence, resonating dust or a vibrating hull from the engines, any kind of harmonic motion might throw it off, but it's not likely." Hereshoff was not only a genius, he actually liked this stuff. Captain Wallace barely passed his tests and he hated everything about spaceflight. He was, however, an excellent commander, and he would solve this problem. He understood people very well.  

"What  actually happened?" Jim thought hard.. He had to resist  blaming anyone, especially Heshy. Larry Hereshoff and Jim Wallace both were students at the Dartmouth "A and E". Larry was a natural. He seemed to have ship design and function in his blood. He loved it as well. It excited him. Jim was in class because his dad forced the issue. Perhaps for this reason, he hated it, and the theory gave him enormous difficulty. His genius was with people and business. He was no end of fun and help. He was outgoing where Larry was shy. So they teamed up and the pair became enormously successful at nearly every activity open to them at school.

When Jim received his commission for search and salvage from the space agency, his first act was to name Larry as first mate. Together they put together quite a record. Unfortunately, they became bored after a few years and started playing games like they did in college, which is something you don't do in deep space rescue.
He remembered now. Coming up the ladder, faint blue starlight reflections, thinking about Wheelock Hall. Laughing with Heshy, coming in through the cabin door and then going blank, totally blind for an instant. He could never tell anyone. He knew now.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

Forgot Something?

Two minutes to go and Captain Wallace gave the crew the time signal. He looked at the camera relays from the dock and noticed what looked like the cabin access ladder still attached under the cabin door. "Can't be", he thought. "Lieutenant Hereshoff, take a quick look at the upper cockpit dock camera and let me know what you see", he tried to keep any urgency off the intercom. "Can't see anything now sir, the vibrations are blurring the picture." Lieutenant Hereshoff looked over toward the Captain, trying to understand his concern. "Roger that Lieutenant. Set  for Launch". Captain Wallace gave the final command.  Each communications station echoed the Set for Launch. "Thirty seconds." Captain Wallace checked his major indicators and emergency screen patterns. "Ten Seconds" They were smoothly accelerating at a moderate G force. "All systems A Function." He turned and gave Hereshoff a hand signal to come up by him. The young Lieutenant undid his seat belts and came right by the Captain. "What is it?" He whispered in response to the signal. "Get me a clear picture of our cabin door". The Captain was visibly upset. "Roger that Captain", and the Lieutenant was off to his console. A few seconds later and there it was, a nightmare solidifying. The access ladder was still attached. Hereshoff forgot to pull it into the cabin and stow it. No real problem, of course, except their insurance would no doubt be revoked and there went his Captain's license as well. Wallace signaled Hereshoff over again. "Look", he said. "You forgot to pull it in. It's all over." You said to leave it, Captain." Hereshoff was worried now too. "I meant to leave the hatch, we can check it inside, how can you possibly leave the ladder outside?" "This has got to be a joke Heshy, right? Tell me it's a joke?" Hereshoff was becoming more and more pale. "It's all recorded. They'll see that and laugh. There's nothing we can do about it. They can't miss it, we might as well start looking for new jobs. Thirty years of intense training and the cockpit access ladder is actually out there right now. Do you have any idea how stupid that actually looks?"

 

The Effort of this Story

Rather warm again today. It's currently about 92 degrees F outside my kitchen window in the shade.
The humidity is up around 50% and there's a special weather statement by the National Weather Service about thunderstorm possibilities in a couple of hours. I'm thinking of hooking up the air conditioning - though up here in Northern Vermont, it's rarely necessary.
I'm not sleeping as well without it. Strange, the things you get used to!

The last few entries are to introduce Jim and give him some sort of character. I also have to set the future time with a realistic background of today as 2013 and 300 years of probable events. That's a lot of prediction. I'd like to give him a New Hampshire college education - which is an interesting idea I think. Dartmouth in 300 years from now. Will students still travel the required distance to attend classes at a university 300 years down the road? Should they? Even though electronics and gadgets like holograms would be expected in science fiction literature - after all, even books seem on their way out! - why not insert a bit about super fast holographic lesson communication - you know Microsoft University etc. The charm of this story though is humor and realism told across a significant length of new and largely unknown, certainly unproven, human history/activity. I think sitting in classes with students at desks would be fine actually - and somehow reassuring. Pencils too! and alongside the professor and his podium is a lifesize holographic video image monitor which students in the class can see as well as students at great distances - also with their textbooks and notebooks and pencils. I think that will fly! Aristotle and Weber both would be dancing with that idea!

So, here we go:

The little blue dots of starlight did more to light up the ladder to the cockpit than most people would believe. It was something Jim remembered each time out. Next was the pull of the cabin door. Hard and stiff, the door came open and Jim knew they were on their way. It would take three hours to launch and eight crew made ready their stations. Batteries and fuel supplies were checked first, three hours of check lists.
Lights went on softly and silently and the comfortable feeling of ready power and familiarity with the procedures grew and became their home.
All communication channels were open and recording. "Ten minutes to undocking", Jim informed the crew and anyone else listening casually, matter-of-factly to their flight countdown. "Where's Pluto?", Heshey asked. ""About three O'Clock and 15 degress up - way too faint to see, maybe 2 au away", came the captain's answer. Heshey stared up through the cockpit windows in that direction and wondered about the ice and rock of Pluto that would have been where they were docked approximately 300 years ago. "It would have been right here in 2013", Heshey returned. "Yeah and Dartmouth would have still been pretty much what it was today." Jim thought about the way some things seem to continute relatively unchanged through history; The Pyramids, The Ten Commandments, Oak Trees.

Larry Feldman Travels to Dartmouth

About 50 years ago a classmate, Larry Feldman, had come back from a trip to Dartmouth College for a Lacrosse game I think. He told me some nice things about the campus. He was right. Very clean and carefully landscaped - just what a new england ivy league college should look like. He might have added, "nice people too", and been very right. I've been there about half a dozen times now since moving up here to Vermont, usually to go to a bank that has no branches in Vermont. Each time I remember Larry and his enthusiasm for this campus - and that was 50 years ago! Some things change slowly. I wonder if our main character, Jim Wallace, would ever have heard of Dartmouth? Perhaps.
Anyway, I had to go down there this morning again and it was expecially beautiful today. Warm and bright and many students around, even at this mid July date. I felt very much at home there. "My people", I thought while looked around and a pretty girl walked by and smiled as if in acknowledgement. One of those days!

Well here's a fragment for today. I hope to get in something substantial by day's end.

Jim started feeling critical about Vivi's family decisions. Weber said that many irrational feelings stem from earlier life experiences with people, forgotten lifetimes and events. Jim didn't know that feeling critical was actually irrational and as far as knowing Vivi in an earlier life, he felt he hardly really knew her now and they'd been working together a long time. No, there was no burning need for her to be on a research mission. She should have stayed home and helped her family. What kind of new depth was that?

Getting on with "Dance of the Deep"

Here's a little detail about the trans-neptunion object - VE 95 "Gary's Castle"

The shuttle "New Horizons II" beat a new path each time out toward the edge of the solar system.  Such was the nature of deep system space. You were never quite sure what you might find out there. Jim's own ship was "docked" or locked in a very tight orbit around a plutino they called VE₉₅ or "Gary's Castle" after Gary Schaumbacher, a rocketeer who called VE₉₅ home for many years before his untimely death.

Quotations from Homer Gardener

"It was so beautiful this morning that it really made you appreciate all those gray rainy days last week." Homer Gardener August 1877 "The Vermont Farmer"

Truly, it was intensely beautiful today, especially so after dropping about a billion tons of mental charge on a headache that seemed to have been around as many billions of years! It's difficult to find suitable metaphors for this outside of the homespun down-to-earth philosophy of Homer Gardener. "If you've waited your whole life for something and it still hasn't happened, it's worth it." Homer used to say.

Seriously, though, sometimes all the good things seem to come together and make life just about perfect! I don't know what Homer would have said, but I say "Thank You".

Jim

This morning started earlier than usual. I watched part of a movie called "somewhere" and nothing really happened, but I was taken by the character's lack of "being". He had virtually no place on earth. He wasn't really a person. No opinion. No person to defend as himself. So I thought a bit about this and decided to give Jim more of an existence in the story. You know - like a real person. He'd need some sort of rationale for life - some way. Today and before now, here in the west at least, there's been beingness by religious codes. Morals and customs. What about 300 years from now? Would that be the same? So I decided to try this with Jim. Give him a set of beliefs and a rationale. A person with a purpose. Something you could depend on for the person to do and be and say and feel. Not just a ball of putty - you know!? Jim follows the philosophy and basic thinking of Jan Weber, the New Depth Cosmology founder. New Depth holds that traditional values are placed here in life, in the physical universe, already - a long long time ago. The only things that are new are the fabrics woven by thinking persons, artists , dreamers, inventers, who play their ideas and emotions against the "always been" the state of the physical universe and life - let's say- and develop a new reality that fits what always has been - call it divine intention - or whatever you like - original creation - whatever - and succeeds according to its values and harmony with the needs of people, life, and the physical laws of the universe. Don't take this too seriously - I just made this up to try it on Jim to see what happens. If he comes alive here in the story.

Jim took a long look out the viewset and wondered why he was sitting where he was. The chicken was good. All seemed so still and yet here they were travelling at hundreds of miles a second toward their destination port, Vivi right next to him, parallel tracks through the heavens. He wondered what kind of effect they were weaving here. Did it really matter? "So how's life at home?", he looked at Vivi. She liked when Jim would turn his New Depth intentions on. It made her feel special and needed. She smiled. "Harry didn't want me to leave on this trip you know?" Jim knew and he didn't think she made the right decision either, leaving her family behind for a year of scientific research, but he wouldn't tell her that. " Yeah, I remember all that". Jim noted. "How's he feel now?"  "He still blames me", she answered. "Just do well here and everyone benefits - the good sticks and the bad's forgotten over time." This had become a cliche by 2310. Jim tried another piece of "Jumpin' Chickin" and wondered about the new depth they were creating on this venture. "Thanks for asking", Vivi smiled.

"Time for a Snack"

Today started out gray and wet and quickly turned sunny and warm - a bit humid, but good to be outside. Some computer problems today, but that too straightened out fairly quickly.

I'm going to try getting perceptions from Jim to the reader so that you can explore the future while participating in Jim's adventures. 

He took a walk down to the galley through the "spatially economic" narrow corridors. The "elastoplast" on his boot soles squeaked against the hard plastic flooring. He felt the cooling vents working hard against his cheek as  he passed close through the galley entrance. "Time for a snack", Vivi smiled at him. "Time for a Snack" was the company name for packaged snacks.
"Yeah", Jim smiled back. He punched in the two numbers of his crew code and selected his snack, pulling a metallic lever back fairly hard and waited for the two characteristic clicks that signaled the snack had been moved into place. "Jumpin' Chickin" in its red box slid out and Jim slid in next to Vivi. She flashed her broad smile again as she turned to look at him. "You don't look so good. What's the matter?"  "Nav III renewal notice," Jim replied. "I'll sit over it with you - don't worry about it. I know what those numbers do to you." Just like that, Vivi solved his problem. He looked out the port and noticed the star colors, blue and white light reflected through the "Resilo" the hard transparent plastic they used for ports. Pale green light passed through the layers of transparent plastic as well, producing effects common on space ships but nowhere else that Jim had been. The whir of the ventilator fans was again soft and special, a constant reminder of their course, their "place" in this galaxy.

 

Jim Wallace

It rained again today - but briefly.

I thought I'd start on some character for Captain Wallace.

Jim Wallace scanned quickly through his latest list of messages. "Uh Oh", he thought, "here's the notice about NAV III renewal."  NAV III was the current standard navigation system recommended usage guide. It was a key system for anyone working on the bridge of a ship and something that gave Captain Wallace more trouble than most people would believe possible. He was so bad at numbers and symbols that he would never have chosen astronautics as a career. His father practically forced him into it. "No James", he could still hear his father's comments about his interest in literature studies, "that's definitely not for you, the future is in astronautics. That's where the money is too, certainly for you." There went the future for Jim. The only thing he really liked was a good story. It released the energy of his imagination. He actually smiled when he read a book or watched a viddy. All the warmth he felt about his career disappeared at his father's words. So long ago and yet it still saddened him enormously to recall that particular disappointment. Now, he had to find someone to cram with. He hated that too. He hated being a burden.

Dance of the Deep

Well, Spring is just about here and so here goes the new story I promised you - at least it starts here.

 

 

 

Dance of the Deep

 

Captain Wallace stared at an array of indicators and wondered what he was doing on the bridge of this ship. He had these lapses often, usually during highly critical maneuvers.  "What's it look like captain?" Lieutenant Hereshoff was very anxious to get the captain's take on the operation. "I think we've got a winner here Heshy."  The captain spoke very quietly as he scanned reactor readings. "It's the pre-cooler. I know it. Look at these temperature gradients."  The captain used his finger to point to a piping detail on one of the screens. "See that? It's always about 50 degrees cooler here when it's about to go. It's the first thing that happens. Then it triggers an automatic alarm system. That's what they're hearing now."  Captain Wallace spoke clearly and calmly over the voice communication line. "Captain of the Explorer VI this is Captain Wallace of Deep Space Salvor Wind Rider".  "Go ahead Captain Wallace," came the quick reply. "We've got your problem on the screen. Your number one Pre-cooler is just about to quit. We've got to get you all out immediately. Have everyone on the quarterdeck in four minutes ready to evacuate. Repeat, every person on board ready to go. Please acknowledge." Understand captain, all persons on board ready to evacuate from the quarter deck in four minutes, over."  OK captain, see you in four minutes. My first mate will be there for pictures. No one else can go below. Please confirm." Roger that captain. Everyone up on the quarter deck in four minutes."  The captain of the Explorer VI sounded resigned to the plan. "One more thing captain, Wallace added, I need a verbal confirmation that you agree to this salvage now."  "Agreed," came the immediate reply. Hereshoff clenched his fist in success. Captain Wallace smiled up at him as he turned off the voice comm. "We got him. No laughing Heshy till we're done."

Heshy's job was now to replace the reactor pre-cooler with a new one and act like he was setting up a recorder. Rubir, the second mate would plug in the training videos of nuclear explosions while they were taking people on board. The captain would be the first to board the stricken ship. This wasn't the first time they pulled this trick. Not the first time at all.

Captain Wallace was greeted by half raised eyes and lazy half turns of the head by drunken crew sprawled across the tables and chairs of a damp and very bad smelling room dug out of a cave and hidden in the side of a steep hill. At the back, a door led into a more carefully designed chamber that was better lit, drier, and no longer smelled like rotting fish. He spotted "The Vulture" seated at a console. "I've got something for you Vulture," he said to the dark figure. " I heard Captain," Vulture replied and stood and turned toward him. "I saw you bring her down," Vulture became very serious as he spoke. "It costs a lot of money to break her up you know. I'll give you 800,000 Vernon clear." Captain Wallace felt suddenly sick in his stomach. Last time he got twice that. The Vulture could kill him and his men very easily and not have to pay them anything at all. The only stop on that was that there'd be no more business from him. Vulture continued. .."and another 800,000 when we sell the drive."  Captain Wallace started to feel better. Vulture looked at him hard. "I'll tell you something else Captain. You got about twenty million in ransoms there. Did you know that?"  Captain Wallace didn't want to even think in that direction. He could justify selling salvaged material, a ship that was thought to be lost, but he couldn't justify kidnapping. That would be out and out piracy. "That girl there - you could keep her. I want Magnusson and his crew."  Vulture smiled. This was the first time Captain Wallace saw Vulture smile.

The green glint in his eyes shown only when Vulture knew he had his prey. This and his wry smile pierced Wallace to the quick. He knew what blackmail felt like now. The rest of his life would be spent doing whatever Vulture needed done. The only choice he had was to come clean about his shady salvage operations, and this burned just about as deep as Vulture's evil gaze. "There must be a way out of this," Captain Wallace thought. "Ha, Ha...," Vulture leaned way back and let out a sick loud laugh. "She's a pretty one too she is, all those dark curls. I'll bet she can dance that one, Ha,Ha."

New Story

Well, it's early April already and some new snow has fallen up here. Winter refuses to leave go.
There are some advantages to this. I went skiing last week and I might still go this week or next!

I sent in a draft of "Alien Uploads" to a publisher about a month ago and haven't received a word about it yet. So I've decided to start another one. I've already sketched out some ideas that I feel are pretty good. "Dance of the Deep" will be another science fiction story about this renegade sailor who's actually turned many shades of pirate but considers himself in the "salvage" business. It's set in the future several centuries at least - but not too far to lose the flavor of today's interests and certainly not today's humor. It's intended to be a comedy. I think it's a first. I really like the idea. I'll do the first installment by tomorrow and work on it today. I hope you like it.

Stepping into the Future

                                                                It's in the Water

 

It was six night now in Santiago, six nights that included a continual series of deep hypnotic imaginings of some sort.  Where did they come from and what was the purpose?  Michael suspected some sort of drug. People just don't share dreams without some kind of prompt, some kind of mechanism. It was all so odd.  He'd hash it out with Laura and Schechter over dinner.

"Where's it coming from Sol?",  Michael wanted to know. Schechter saw this coming and didn't really want to talk about it. He had enough nightmares of his own. "I wish I knew Michael. I have no idea. It could be coming from you, or Laura, something in your past, a place you visited. It could be jet lag. I don't know."  Schechter looked troubled by the whole subject.  "Michael insists that someone's drugged us. He says you can't ordinarily hypnotize people otherwise".  Laura  prodded despite Schechter's reluctance to  discuss it. "Couldn't we get back to the research?", Schechter pleaded. "I assure you there's nothing in the water and the food's kosher" , he added with a smile.

Michael couldn't shrug it off so easily of course. Too much had happened. He  looked out the courtyard up at the sky. Lights on the fountain distracted his view somewhat. It felt  strange to be down here now.  He wondered if Schechter felt this way about Chile. He wondered about people and what comfort and security were. Where was home really, especially now?  Was it him or was it the world? Was it the research and how far it had stretched the imagination? Were they really standing at a crossroads in time, or was this all a dream brought on by some kind of extended  jet lag?

It would have been just a fleeting thought except for the facts of Exit 51. It was as real as his home back in Philly. He knew the place, the people, the times, the food, the news, the details. It was all that detail. Mark Green was just as much him as Michael Gornstein, possibly more.

He wrestled with the conflicting viewpoints. He wasn't being forced into the future against his will. This was important. He had a choice. Stay here and finish his research, or regroup across a quantum leap through time.

Michael looked at the photographs on the white translucent glass that Schechter had laid out in his study. He looked at the area where the anomaly appeared and wondered. His mind drifted to the problem of this month's thru-put at the exit. He smiled at the thought of Mohammad's grimace at the news of their upgrade. He smelled the red dust of Oklahoma blowing up from the ground after the rain had dried. He could see Lauren's pretty smile as she tilted her head toward him. "We belong at the exit", he said resolutely. Lauren liked his certainty when he made decisions. He watched the blue and green lights on the fountain fade with the night. He watched as the observation room became more and more solid around him with Lauren now there and by his side. It was like landing on a runway when the wheels touched down and you were there and no longer in the air. They both watched the data run by through the white glass of the observation trackers. They were 300 years into the future and they were there to stay.

Coming Home

                    

        

                                              Lost  in Time

 

"We're half in the future and half back here"  Michael said and looked deeply into Laura's eyes for any sign of recognition. "How do you know?" Laura looked right back at him. "I see it. I see it happening. I almost see why!"  Michael turned as he spoke  and continued in an angry voice, "and I don't like it. I don't like being someone's toy, pushed into a place and time I have no choice about, no understanding. It  makes me feel weak and helpless and I've decided to stop it.". "How", Laura asked as if they were planning an evening's observation schedule. "I can get us out. I've thought it out carefully. You know what happens in these dreams? He waited for her reply. "What?" "They take us forward in time and to a different place, but the transit is vulnerable. I noticed it last time and I remembered it and I remembered it because I made a large number of associations for when we were back here that would remind me, and I remembered. The orientation changes". Laura was listening intently. It was as if they were French underground conspiring against the Nazis. Michael went on. "Ordinarily, now, my whole life,  usually, I relate most of my experience to my youth, school, growing up, my first telescope, you know". Laura nodded. "When we're in transit, there's none of that, just Chile, just here at the observatory or at Schechter's, or on the road, or somewhere around here. The job." They called their current research "the job". "And I noticed it. Every time I notice it." Laura started to make coffee as Michael continued excitedly. "I know how we can break out. I'm sure of it. All we have to do is know when we're in transit and then talk about it and we'll wake up!" He just about smiled the way he did when he'd solved a math puzzle. He looked at her for her view of all this. She handed him a cup of coffee . "It makes me want to smoke a cigarette and I never smoke." She laughed and so did Michael. "I don't know. Break out? What do you mean?" "Just wake up out of it, force ourselves to wake up!" "How in heaven are we supposed to do that?" Michael smiled at the question. "Exactly" he answered. "All we do is rehearse a few lines until we recognize where we are and come to." He smiled like a contented cat.

Four hours and as many cups of coffee later they were still sitting at the kitchen table going over their lines. "Then I say, "are you ready Laura?" "And you say.." and Laura broke in. "I sure am." Michael smiled. "That's all there is to it". He saw how tired she looked. "It'll be alright". That was Michael, she thought. He gets a plan and follows it. She hoped he was right. He usually was, but who knew what to expect anymore.

That night Laura actually feared falling asleep. She tried to keep her mind occupied with their research and the next day's programs. In what seemed like the instant she dozed off, she woke suddenly in the windowless room, same bed, same ceiling, and the same strange feeling of being in a place that seemed like a solidified dream.  "Michael!" she called out. "I'm here" he answered. "Let's get out of here right now". He was awake already and aware of where they were. It was time to jump on this. "Change of plans?" Laura asked. "Yeah - we're actually home I think, but we can't see it" Michael was trying to understand what was going on and couldn't quite bracket the situation. "See if you can reach out and touch the lamp on your night table - you know - the guy on the horse." The silver toreador?" she asked. "Yeah, that guy  - it's just a hunch." Laura had no idea what to do. "You mean imagine it?" "No do it", he shouted. "Do it - I'm in the next room - I'm here in the next room", he insisted. She reached out and somehow managed to touch a lamp - a lamp that wasn't visibly in the room. She could almost hear a warning. "You'll get in trouble. You'll get lost!"...Suddenly, like a tornado touching down. it seemed like everything that existed was moving, spinning with hardly any pattern to focus on except a downward winding inner funnel that seemed darker than the gray and pale light of the confusion. The sound was deafening, as loud as close thunder and all the worse for loud, frozen, high pitched shrieking. Laura, herself, seemed to come apart in the twisting forces tearing at her body and all the spaces around her. "It's a total chaos",  she thought. "There's no ordered space or time between the present and the future. It's chaotic". She heard a familiar voice and the noise and confusion subsided. "Laura, we made it!" Michael looked down at her on the bed. She was breathing hard, sweating profusely, and clutching the lamp so tightly that her hand was shaking and her knuckles were white. "We're back home". She turned and looked up at his face. "Good grief, that was like a train wreck"!