Upon the Horizon
Katrina awoke groggily and even though she had known that this would be the case she cursed out loud in Russian. The curse partly caught in her still gel filled throat, what remained bounced around the metallic walls of the casket enclosure.
After several minutes she attempted to push herself into a sitting position, achieving her aim at the third attempt. She wiped the mucus-like gel from her eyes and tried to regain focus. Four of the six “coffins” were still sealed shut and the steady green glow from their readouts indicated that this was not about to change. Her own panel was omitting a pulsing amber glow, she reached out and disabled it whilst noting that she’d been under for a little over three years.
She spent the next fifteen minutes rubbing life back into her numb limbs and, eventually, she was able to half climb, half fall out of the casket, the rubberised flooring preventing any impact damage.
The visited the adjacent head, braving the startlingly bright illumination from the ceiling panels in order to reach the toilet bowl where she induced herself to vomit the remaining gel from her system.
After dressing in her shipsuit, 2nd Engineer insignia upon her shoulder, she began to make her way along the pipe lined corridors towards Control. The lighting along her route graciously turned itself up and then down as she passed by. Only minimal systems were functioning then, and with the rest of the crew left in hibe that meant that something was wrong. It was the first time this had happened to her, but then, it was only her third trip. Her stomach muscles tightened with fear and she fought the urge to vomit again. She quickened her pace along the eerily quite innards of the ship.
When Katrina reached her destination she came upon Douglas, as she knew she would, sitting at his station and nursing a hot chocolate (the aroma was unmistakable) with a concerned look upon his face.
“Doug.” she whispered.
He jumped, spilling some chocolate, and clutched his chest, “don’t do that to me Katrina!” he breathed.
“Is there a better way?”
“No,” he sighed, “I suppose there isn’t. Even a com-call from the sleeper section would have had the same effect.”
She moved to sit alongside him. He was not elderly by any stretch, late fifties perhaps, with neat grey hair and a slightly portly figure. He had taken her under his wing from the start with no complaints of freshman joyriders or the newest nano-technology.
“Brief me?” she coaxed.
“I wish the ship hadn’t woken you Kat,” he whispered, “I don’t believe there’s anything you can do that I haven’t already tried”.
His eyes were red and sunken. How long had he been awake?
“Try me?” she smiled falteringly.
Douglas omitted another deep sigh and reached out to toggle the main screen control. The image leapt instantly across half of Control but at first she could make very little out, “what are we viewing this in?”
“Deep Ultra, it’s the only way to see the full picture.”
“Which is?” A touch testily. behave yourself Kat.
“The mass on the right is Delta Pavonis at times one hundred mag, the…”
“Whoa..” Katrina interjected, “not possible! Our course is so far away there’s no way it could pull us in.”
“It didn’t,” Douglas continued calmly, “the mass on the left is a collapsar. That’s what pulled us in.”
So matter of factly he’d said it. She felt her heart plunge towards her toes, her gut beginning to churn. She composed herself, “again, impossible! The surveys were all thorough, all quadruple checked, even by us. It shouldn’t exist. I know we’ve been under a while but there isn’t a local star that could have collapsed into a black hole.”
“Kat,” he took her hand in his, worryingly, “we’re more than just a little off course I’m afraid, both us and Pavonis. We’ve been drawn into a cataclysmic cosmic event, a clash of titans.”
“How far off?” she held her breath.
“One hundred, seventy five.”
Her existence crashed around her, her vision blurring, she reached out for the console to steady herself. Douglas steadied her, waited for her to settle down once more.
She looked him in the eyes, “where are we in relation to that?” she gestured.
“Exactly mid point, at the Event Horizon…but holding steady,” he hurried to add.
She thought quickly, “the spare fuel, we could…”
“I’ve tried that Kat. But only to the point where there’s enough left to get home.”
“But, why not use it all. One massive thrust. It might be enough and I’d rather lie cold in space than…that,” again she indicated the display.
“It would be a death sentence, Katrina, you know that. The hibe units just won’t function indefinitely. But there is one very small chance. A chance that Pavonis wins its battle and slides past the black hole, taking us along for the ride.”
“And a slight chance that we won’t fall into Pavonis.”
“A slight chance," he conceded,"yes.”
>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<
As Douglas made the necessary preparations, Katrina settled herself back into her casket.
“Promise me you won’t stay up Doug, please.”
“Of course, of course. As soon as I know you’re safely under I’ll be joining you,” he gazed down at her reassuringly, like the father that she now acknowledged he had replaced.
“Doug?” she asked, sleepily.
“Yes.”
“Did you run the percentages? You did, didn’t you? I’d really….really like to.. to.” She drifted off.
Douglas gazed upon her momentarily before bending to gently kiss her brow, “goodnight, my Katrina,” he whispered, “God bless.”
After several minutes she attempted to push herself into a sitting position, achieving her aim at the third attempt. She wiped the mucus-like gel from her eyes and tried to regain focus. Four of the six “coffins” were still sealed shut and the steady green glow from their readouts indicated that this was not about to change. Her own panel was omitting a pulsing amber glow, she reached out and disabled it whilst noting that she’d been under for a little over three years.
She spent the next fifteen minutes rubbing life back into her numb limbs and, eventually, she was able to half climb, half fall out of the casket, the rubberised flooring preventing any impact damage.
The visited the adjacent head, braving the startlingly bright illumination from the ceiling panels in order to reach the toilet bowl where she induced herself to vomit the remaining gel from her system.
After dressing in her shipsuit, 2nd Engineer insignia upon her shoulder, she began to make her way along the pipe lined corridors towards Control. The lighting along her route graciously turned itself up and then down as she passed by. Only minimal systems were functioning then, and with the rest of the crew left in hibe that meant that something was wrong. It was the first time this had happened to her, but then, it was only her third trip. Her stomach muscles tightened with fear and she fought the urge to vomit again. She quickened her pace along the eerily quite innards of the ship.
When Katrina reached her destination she came upon Douglas, as she knew she would, sitting at his station and nursing a hot chocolate (the aroma was unmistakable) with a concerned look upon his face.
“Doug.” she whispered.
He jumped, spilling some chocolate, and clutched his chest, “don’t do that to me Katrina!” he breathed.
“Is there a better way?”
“No,” he sighed, “I suppose there isn’t. Even a com-call from the sleeper section would have had the same effect.”
She moved to sit alongside him. He was not elderly by any stretch, late fifties perhaps, with neat grey hair and a slightly portly figure. He had taken her under his wing from the start with no complaints of freshman joyriders or the newest nano-technology.
“Brief me?” she coaxed.
“I wish the ship hadn’t woken you Kat,” he whispered, “I don’t believe there’s anything you can do that I haven’t already tried”.
His eyes were red and sunken. How long had he been awake?
“Try me?” she smiled falteringly.
Douglas omitted another deep sigh and reached out to toggle the main screen control. The image leapt instantly across half of Control but at first she could make very little out, “what are we viewing this in?”
“Deep Ultra, it’s the only way to see the full picture.”
“Which is?” A touch testily. behave yourself Kat.
“The mass on the right is Delta Pavonis at times one hundred mag, the…”
“Whoa..” Katrina interjected, “not possible! Our course is so far away there’s no way it could pull us in.”
“It didn’t,” Douglas continued calmly, “the mass on the left is a collapsar. That’s what pulled us in.”
So matter of factly he’d said it. She felt her heart plunge towards her toes, her gut beginning to churn. She composed herself, “again, impossible! The surveys were all thorough, all quadruple checked, even by us. It shouldn’t exist. I know we’ve been under a while but there isn’t a local star that could have collapsed into a black hole.”
“Kat,” he took her hand in his, worryingly, “we’re more than just a little off course I’m afraid, both us and Pavonis. We’ve been drawn into a cataclysmic cosmic event, a clash of titans.”
“How far off?” she held her breath.
“One hundred, seventy five.”
Her existence crashed around her, her vision blurring, she reached out for the console to steady herself. Douglas steadied her, waited for her to settle down once more.
She looked him in the eyes, “where are we in relation to that?” she gestured.
“Exactly mid point, at the Event Horizon…but holding steady,” he hurried to add.
She thought quickly, “the spare fuel, we could…”
“I’ve tried that Kat. But only to the point where there’s enough left to get home.”
“But, why not use it all. One massive thrust. It might be enough and I’d rather lie cold in space than…that,” again she indicated the display.
“It would be a death sentence, Katrina, you know that. The hibe units just won’t function indefinitely. But there is one very small chance. A chance that Pavonis wins its battle and slides past the black hole, taking us along for the ride.”
“And a slight chance that we won’t fall into Pavonis.”
“A slight chance," he conceded,"yes.”
>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<
As Douglas made the necessary preparations, Katrina settled herself back into her casket.
“Promise me you won’t stay up Doug, please.”
“Of course, of course. As soon as I know you’re safely under I’ll be joining you,” he gazed down at her reassuringly, like the father that she now acknowledged he had replaced.
“Doug?” she asked, sleepily.
“Yes.”
“Did you run the percentages? You did, didn’t you? I’d really….really like to.. to.” She drifted off.
Douglas gazed upon her momentarily before bending to gently kiss her brow, “goodnight, my Katrina,” he whispered, “God bless.”