Story: The Lethe, pt. VI

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Fleet Com has given us a mission as unique as our ship’s abilities. We have been given the task of finding out what happened to the EGS Lethe.”
A holographic image appeared on the display of an extremely large, domed vessel, gray in color. It had a square base that was 4-5 kilometer on a side, and a dome that arched up to a maximum height of over 500 meters. It looked not dissimilar to the ancient snow globe baubles that Dobbins remembered his grandmother being so found of, only on a scale more massive than anyone had ever seen. A look of amazement erupted from the faces of the entire staff, except Skylar, who nodded in the way that people nod when they want to look like they understand, even though they don’t.
“For those of you who didn’t pay attention in History class at the academy, let me give you some details about the Lethe,” Dobbins continued. Marquél gave Skylar a sharp elbow to the ribs, prompting a quiet protestation from Skylar.
“Problem, Mr. Skylar?” Dobbins demanded, looking at the young man the way a teacher looks at miscreant student.
“No, sir.” Skylar said, attempting to talk smoothly out of the situation and failing, “I merely couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The Lethe? We lost contact with her about 15 years ago, and now we get the chance to find out what happened to her.”
“Actually, it’s been closer to 30, Mr. Skylar. The Lethe was one of the last generational colony ships to be sent out. Its destination, the third moon in orbit around the planet 47 Ursae Majoris b.” A schematic of the system of 47 Ursae Majoris appeared on the visual display and after a flyby, zoomed in on the planet and its moon. “As you know, this star system is 14.1 parsecs from our own system, so using Ion Drive, the trip would require about 70 years. To make such a long trip, the ship was designed to allow the second generation of those on board to become the first settlers on the new moon, which was to be re-designated Elysion upon establishment of the colony.
“The Lethe, then, like most generational ships carried about 500 people, even though it had room for nearly 2000. The remainder of the space was left for supplies and for room for the next generation to be able to live. Because of the vast distances that the Lethe would have to cover, the designers of the ship used the best holographic and construction technology available to create a ship that would seem to its inhabitants like it was Earth instead of a spaceship. The idea was that, if the passengers felt as much as possible like they still were on Earth instead of many light years from home, then they could avoid some of the deep-space psychoses that afflicted the other generational ships.”
Commander Ella spoke up, “The Lethe wasn’t the only ship to use such an approach, Captain. It had already been successfully used on a couple of other generational ships.”
“True, Commander,” Dobbins replied, “but the Lethe took the approach and refined it further. Not only was each individual’s quarters designed in such a way as to simulate an Earth-like home, the entire ship was built to be a giant Earth simulator. Only in the decks below the main level and in the Town Hall (the Control Center, really) could any hint be found that the ship was indeed a ship. The holographic technology, the climate control, and the unique design of the ship all contributed to making the illusion nearly perfect, at least from what I’ve been able to read of contemporary accounts. And since only the crew who ran the ship, all 20 of them, ever needed to access either of those areas, I have to imagine that illusion would function pretty well, as long as you wanted it to.”
“Twenty people couldn’t manage a starship of that size!” Zhang exclaimed in amazement.
“You’re correct, Mr. Zhang,” Dobbins said, “but if you remember your history, you’ll remember that the designers equipped the ship with a staff of nearly 200 androids to handle the majority of the tasks and serve the passengers needs. The androids were the ones who did the majority of the spaceship work. In this way, the passengers did not have to give up the illusion of idyllic, small town life on Earth. In fact, the ship’s designers even went so far in creating the illusion that they made the androids entirely human in appearance and mannerisms, with one exception: all the androids had unusually-colored purple eyes in order to help the humans recognize them as automatons.
“The ship set out 30 years ago from this very dry dock to a tremendous fanfare. Plans to build a second one just like her were already underway, with another, even more-distant star system to the target. The funds and personnel took a while to get approved, but construction on the second Lethe-class vessel had just barely gotten underway when hyperwave communication with the Lethe suddenly was lost. No indications of the exact cause of the loss of communication could ever be determined. Fleet Comm attempted several times over the course of the first year or two to re-establish contact and gain remote access to the ship, but no signal ever received a response. The Lethe simply had vanished into the depths of space, and to this day, no one knows what became of her or her passengers.”

From 85 to 66 in just a few hours

A cold front has definitely pushed through. It was hot (in the upper 80s) around 2:00. By the time I went out for a short run at 5:30, the temperature was at 81, and right now, it has plummeted to 66. That is the classic temperature profile of a cold front. The cold air mass has taken hold here in Topeka, returning us to seasonal temperatures. It looks like it will be a beautiful day tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the great weather!

Story: The Lethe, pt. V

Dobbins walked up to the podium at the front of the room, amazed at how real the synthetic mahogany exterior felt. The boys at fabrication had outdone themselves on this one. Like the conference table, it had touch-sensitive controls and the ability to automatically interface with handhelds. Dobbins had just enabled the main controls and initiated the interface between the main computer and his handheld when Commander Brackers and Lieutenant Samuleson walked into the room, discussing the latest developments in weaponry.
Their conversation continued as the remainder of the senior staff filtered in. Marquél, Ella, and Sawyer all came in together, discussing something about the finer points of living in space with family members. Zhang entered alone, head down, reading something off of his handheld. Finally, at 0959, everyone arrived at the conference room, with the exception of Skylar, the helmsman. Right as the chronometer on the wall read 1000, he sprinted in, a half-eaten doughnut in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, and the top two buttons on his gray uniform still unbuttoned. He hurriedly shoved the rest of the pastry in his mouth while almost simultaneously gulping the drink. Hurriedly discarding the cup in a reprocessing bin, he dropped into the seat next to Marquél with enough force to cause it to rock backwards.
Marquél rolled her eyes at Skylar’s finish. She appeared to be about to make a comment when Dobbins beat her to it. “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Skylar. You made it in time, I see. Is it normal for you to make such a dramatic entrance?”
“Uh, no, sir,” Skylar replied in a voice that sounded far too contrite to be entirely sincere. “I was just up a little late after the party last night; I couldn’t sleep,sir. Too excited about our first mission, I guess.”
To Dobbins eye, Marquél appeared to suppress another wisecrack, instead settling for a slight sigh of irritation.
With his staff assembled and the almost-tardy Skylar sufficiently chastised, Dobbins began the briefing. He called up on the holographic display the image of an old starship.

Strange Coin Toss

Because I hurt my back last weekend at a tournament, I was working an under-9 (7 & 8 year old) girls' recreational soccer game. I was prepared for some things to be a bit weird compared to the under-12 & under-13 club games that I normally do. But I wasn't prepared for what happened at the pre-game coin toss.
Two girls from each team, pink and blue, arrive at the center circle for the coin toss. Here is a rough transcript of what happened next.

Me (to one of blue's captains): Call it in the air
Captain: Okay

[I toss the coin in the air. She waits for the coin to hit the ground and looks at coin, which shows tails.]

Captain: Tails
Me (smiling): Cheater. Let's do that, again. Call it in the air.

[I again toss the coin in the air. She again waits for the coin to hit the ground and looks at the coin, which shows heads.]

Captain: Heads

At this point, I stare at her, dumbfounded. I couldn't decide if she was being serious. Did she not understand English? Did I say something unclear? Was she suffering from a cognitive impairment? Thankfully, her co-captain bailed me out and said, "I'll call it." We proceeded with the coin toss correctly, but I have to file this under the "Now I've Seen Everything" category.

Story: The Lethe, pt. IV

Dobbins arrived first in the briefing room. Because the Hyperion was brand new, the briefing room felt more Spartan than Dobbins was used to. At one end of the room sat a holographic projection area. Looking like a cross between a small stage and an ancient projection television, this system allowed the crew to bring up three-dimensional representations of objects and manipulate them in real time. The system also tied into the communications system, allowing for three-dimensional communication to be conducted with ease. The bare, tan walls softly reflected the glow emitted by the LED lights that were subtly embedded throughout the ceiling. A person entering the room who was unused to this form of lighting would find it unusual at first that there was no single source of light. Rather, every direction seemed to be equally bright, and shadows were non-existent. This omni-directional lighting gave the entire conference room an otherworldly feel.
In the center of the room stood a massive conference table. A computer embedded in the table received and sent data to handhelds with high efficiency, and the table surface itself had touch-sensitive control areas on it. Dobbins still remembered the first time he saw an inexperienced officer forget about the control areas. The man had grown tired of sitting during a particular long, boring report, and decide to stand up and sit on the edge of the table. Unfortunately for him, he sat on the light control and plunged the room into a few seconds of total darkness while also bringing up a copy of the movie shown the night before at the ship’s weekly movie night. By the time he frantically succeeded in restoring the lights and shutting off the movie, his face had turned a deep shade of red. That officer never sat on a table again.

College Football: The Battle for Last?

K-State and Iowa State both played ugly games yesterday. Each team played well for 1 quarter, and then took the rest of the game off. Both lost, and I'm not sure which loss was worse. ISU lost to Iowa 35-3. ISU played well in the 1st quarter, and then folded after that. KSU, on the other hand, played atrociously through the first 3 quarters of their 17-15 loss to Lousiana-Lafayette. They missed 3 field goals. They went 0-12 on third down. They basically did nothing on offense. Their only points through 3 quarters was a safety on a botched snap. When they finally were able to score a touchdown, they missed an extra point. Then, once they had the lead, the defense finally wore down a little, allowing a late field goal.
Both teams were less than impressive in their first-week wins. ISU beat one of the worst team in Division I football (FCS team North Dakota State). KSU unimpressively beat Massachusetts, also an FCS team. Both teams had trouble with FBS teams this week.
So, with "Farmaggedon," the battle between KSU-ISU still several weeks away, the question remains: will it be a battle for last in the Big XII North? Based on what I've seen from these two teams so far, I'd be tempted to say yes, except that there's a team that looks even less skilled than either KSU or ISU: Colorado. Colorado has lost twice, including getting blown out on Friday night against Toledo. KSU and ISU may be saved from the cellar of the North not because of their own skill but by Colorado's ineptitude. Exactly how things play out, of course, remain to be seen. Few things are less predictable than college football. Perhaps that's why it can be so fun to watch.

Story: The Lethe, pt. III

At the change-of-command party afterwards, Dobbins finally got the chance to meet all of his senior staff. With the exception of Samuelson, the remainder of the senior officers had served on the Hyperion during her shake-down cruise. Fleet Command felt that the best crew for the ship was the one that already knew her, and Dobbins agreed wholeheartedly. He knew that a unique ship like the Hyperion required a crew with unique skills to function properly. Still, working with a new group of people always presented a challenge. He knew that it would take time before they would adjust to his style of command.
Samuelson and Dobbins walked in together, Samuelson explaining to Dobbins the details of the Hyperion’s weaponry. In the somewhat-crowded mess hall, at a table near the far end of the room, sat the remainder of the ship’s senior officers. Samuelson, who had been on board for several weeks, led Dobbins over to the table and began to introduce everyone.
First was a smiling younger man with short, curly, dark hair and dark skin. This was Lieutenant Myles Skylar, the helmsman. He rose and greeted the captain with a salute, speaking with a faint African accent. Next to him sat Lieutenant Commander Katie Sawyer, science officer. She demurely greeted the captain with a nod of her brown-haired head. Facts, not people, were her specialty.
Beside her was a calm, collected blonde woman with striking blue eyes that seemed almost like they could read your mind. “Captain,” Samuelson said, “This is Commander Ingrit Ella, our ship’s doctor and psychiatrist. She’s spent the past two years studying the effects of jump drive travel on humans. If anything strange is going to happen to anyone, she’ll be prepared for it.”
The Oriental man to Ella’s left chuckled briefly. “The only strange thing that will happen on this trip is going to be if someone decides to play a joke and reprograms the food replicators to make wax fruit. Jump drive travel hasn’t done me any harm in my nearly three years of experimenting with it. I’m Lieutenant Commander Chiang Zhang, chief engineer, sir. We’re ready to launch as soon as you’re ready.”
Dobbins laughed. “As you were, Commander. We’ll have plenty of time to put your engines and the jump drive to the test. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”
“Well said, Captain!” chimed in the deep female voice of Lieutenant Ana Marquél, communications officer. She introduced herself to Dobbins, standing to salute as Skylar had.
“And finally, sir,” Samuelson said once Marquél had returned to her seat,” this is your Executive Officer…”
“Commander Neal Brackers,” interrupted Brackers, rising to give Dobbins a sharp salute. “Let me say that is an honor to serve under you, sir. I’ve heard about your heroism during the Charon Crisis. Your quick decision-making saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives on that starbase.”
“Thank you, Commander. Your record is equally as impressive. I look forward to having your help at keeping this ship running at peak efficiency.”
“Won’t you join us, sir?” asked Ella. “We were just discussing what our first mission might be.”
“Personally, I’d like to head out there a ways,” said Skylar. “All of those trial runs to Alpha Centauri got old after a while. I want to see what this ship can really do. Maybe get to the other side of the galaxy, or beyond.”
“The other side of the galaxy might take us a tad far out of communications range, Skylar, even with hyperwave,” chimed in Marquél. “I think something a little closer to home might be better.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Skylar demanded. “Come on, Ana, where’s your sense of aventura?”
“We’ll talk about our mission tomorrow during the briefing,” Dobbins said quickly before Marquél could respond. “For now, relax, have fun. The real work begins tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me, I want to meet some of the rest of the crew. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning at 1000 hours sharp.”
As he and Samuelson walked away from the table, Dobbins asked, “Are those two always like that?”
“Who, Skylar and Marquél?” Samuelson answered. “Yes, sir, they are. They went through the academy together and served on their first deep-space posting together, so they know each other really well. And Skylar seems to like to stir the pot. He’ll give anyone a hard time if he thinks he can get away with it. It’s never affected his performance, but the crew tell me that it kept things interesting on some of the early test voyages.”
Dobbins smiled. “Well, if we’re gone for as many months as I expect us to be gone, Commander, we’re going to need a little entertainment now and then to keep us from getting too bored. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to introduce me to some of the other members of the crew.”

Football, American Style

The last two days have seen me at high school and college football games, with others on television in the background wherever I go. Autumn must be here; it's time for football.
In some ways, I'm glad that it is this time of year. There's some exciting, even festive, about a game of American football. Each game is an event, and the fans in attendance get excited (sometimes too excited) about what happens on the field. The atmosphere at the K-State/UMass game yesterday, for instance, was so electric at the start that it reminded of the times I would attend the KSU/ISU game with my family. Ah, the happy, care-free days of college. At the same time, I do find it odd that people (myself included) sometimes get so worked up about a game. In reality, it doesn't matter even from year-to-year who won what game when. Certainly in 50 or 100 years, it's not going to matter at all. The challenge, of course, is keeping games in proper perspective. For me, knowing that there is an eternity with Christ ahead, I at least have some hope of keeping a football game (or a soccer game) in perspective. That's not to say that I don't forget myself or get caught up in the moment. Such reactions, however, are not the kind I desire. What I want is to be in the middle ground: not so indifferent to the game that I can't enjoy it, yet not so caught up in it that I behave in a way that dishonors the Lord. It's a long season, and I'll have plenty of chances to practice between high school soccer and football, KSU football, and Iowa State football. (The Chiefs don't count. We know that they're going to lose most of their games this year.) Hopefully, I can find the middle ground, and enjoy a few games in the process. May God grant me (and all of us) the mercy to do just that, keeping these temporary pastimes in perspective.

Story: The Lethe, pt. II

On the other side of the door stood a tall, gaunt man, nearly seven feet in height but seemingly underweight. His close-cropped brown hair and taciturn expression gave him the imposing look of a stern disciplinarian. Anyone, though, who had the fortitude to maintain eye contact with the man could see a playful flicker in his eyes, hidden underneath a well-practiced veneer of emotional discipline. This man, Lieutenant Robert Samuelson, had been chosen by Dobbins himself to be the ship’s chief of security and chief weapons officer. His reputation in all forms of combat only added to the mystique created by his formidable appearance.
“Captain on board!” he proclaimed in a strong, tenor voice. From somewhere out of Dobbins’s field of view, a boson blew a whistle, a tradition dating all the way back to sea-faring ships on ancient Earth.
As the last tones of the whistle faded, Dobbins stepped out of the shuttle and onto the ship—his ship. He looked around at the assembled crew. Two hundred officers, the best men and women in the fleet, and another three hundred enlisted personnel. All stood at attention, eyes staring straight ahead.
One figure, an elderly gentleman with innumerable medals attached to the front of his uniform, stepped forward. Reading from the handheld in front of him, he went through the history of the Hyperion’s development, describing the ship’s history and shakedown cruise in detail. Finally he said, “As of this date—July 11, 2137, I, Captain Luther Travest of the Ship Development Division, relinquish command of the EHS Hyperion, first in the class of hyperlight-capable ships built at the Lasalle Shipyards orbiting Mars.” He crisply raised his hand in a salute towards Dobbins.
Dobbins returned the salute. “I relieve you, sir.”
“I stand relieved,” Travest replied. He stepped forward to shake Dobbins’s hand while simultaneously giving him the handheld. “Captain, welcome on board. Your specific orders are contained here. Without a doubt, you have the finest ship and the finest crew in the Fleet. I leave her in your hands, take good care of her.”
Dobbins shook the older man’s hand and took the device containing his orders. As the other captain stepped back to his spot in formation, Dobbins surveyed the crew, took a deep breath, and began his welcome speech.

I Forgot (Again)

So, I forgot to post on Sunday. Sorry. I got distracted by other things. I will do my best to post tomorrow and try to get back on my regular Wednesday/Sunday schedule. For now, this in-between post will have to suffice, because I'm tired and just want to rest.