The Makers
Chapter 1
He was never really frightened by needles, until now.
The Greeter led him through a maze of tunnels to a room illuminated by a glowing ceiling. An incongruous aroma of freshly made caramel cloyed at his nostrils. Before he could ask her even one of a myriad of questions whirling through his mind, she smiled, nodded and left without a word. Recessed doorway panels slid shut behind her, leaving him standing alone amidst an array of metal-gray instruments and machinery. Tethered to the wall by an assortment of pipes and cables, a large sarcophagus-like construction stood
upright in the center of the room with its single door swung open. Its silvery exterior threw back his thin, distorted reflection, while its dark maw glistened with tiny pinpoints of light.
He felt a pressure from behind, as if someone held him by his shoulders and legs. Despite being certain he was alone, he was coaxed forward, in the direction of the awaiting opening. A heavy, sweet odor emanated from within the sinister cavity. An unseen, viscous fluid wrapped itself around his body, weighing down his arms and legs. He tried to cry out, but produced no more than anemic whimpers. His toes skated along the floor as he was maneuvered into position inside the device. A thinning halo of light surrounded the shadow cast by his head, reflecting off each long needle fixed in place only inches from his face. His movement came to a stop. The pressure ebbed away, and thoughts of fleeing the nightmare surged through his panicked mind. Before he regained control of his limbs, the door behind swung closed, forcing him to stand ever so still in total darkness. Although sensation returned to his limbs, and he knew
he could move again, he dared not, for fear of the needles surrounding him. A humming met his ears. His screams were faint and short-lived.
***
Adam did not feel as if three centuries had gone by. He sat up and looked about the room. It was much as he remembered it -- mousy gray walls and cabinets, and a cold metallic table. His eyes had a little trouble focusing, but when at last they did, the wavering shadows coalesced into a tall, black-haired, sallow-skinned man wearing a dark blue, skin-tight suit. He stood before Adam with hands on hips.
"So, how did you enjoy the nap?"
"Alpha. It's you isn't it?"
Adam coughed up some phlegm.
"Yes, yes. Here's a tissue. Your eyes will need a few moments to adjust to the light."
Adam squinted. An IV container stood empty to his side. Alpha stared at him with those unblinking orbs.
"Did you say three hundred years?"
Alpha nodded. "Of course, those are your years -- years that have passed back on Earth."
Adam brought his hand to chin and rubbed.
Alpha added, "Don't worry … the combination of relativistic effects and our stasis process have slowed your aging to a mere week or
so."
Adam winced as he recalled his mother and their final moments together before he left.
Before I left for the stars.
He rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. That was so long ago. He searched for a wastebasket nearby, and then he noticed that he was naked. "Are there clothes or do we strut around here exposed? And, hey, what about Linda? Is she going to be awakened as well?"
A voice from behind Adam brought up a smile. "I'm already up, Dr. Dove. You're the sleepy head."
He turned to see Dr. Linda Garcia dressed in a red, full-body leotard. Her long, silky black hair swung side-to-side as she parted her lips. Reflected light from the ceiling danced across her dark brown eyes. She giggled.
"Linda! It's great to see you … what's so funny?"
Adam turned to look at a wall mirror. His dark brown hair stuck out in every direction. He saw no new wrinkles under his green eyes, and there was just a hint of stubble. Dangling from his neck, a gold medallion caught the
ceiling light. He caressed the disk.
Aged a week and all I see is a five-o'clock shadow. Damned ears are red again. The last time that happened to me was when I came across you in one of these rooms … naked and unconscious, with an IV inserted in your arm.
"Hey, I look pretty good."
Linda patted Adam on his back. "Yeah, not bad for three hundred something."
Adam grinned at Linda. "So, that would make you a three hundred twenty-something, or is that thirty-something?"
She punched him in the shoulder.
Memories of that day crept into view.
We managed to get to Alpha's shuttle. We were both giddy with the adventure before us. Tracking down the origin of the medallion. And the ones who created us … and the others on this ship … from other worlds.
"Some nap. Are we there yet? The home of the … what did you call them?"
"Makers," replied Alpha.
"Yeah, the guys who sent out and planted all those medallions. Three hundred years? I thought we would be taking turns running the
ship."
Alpha's shoulders arched upward. "That was an approximation. Recent data suggest the actual location to be more distant."
"An approximation?"
Alpha bowed his head and stared at the floor as he replied. "We now know the location to be in what you call the galactic halo."
"And where exactly is that?"
"It is roughly eight thousand light years above the galactic plane, in a zone known to contain the oldest stars in the universe."
Adam's stomach tightened. "Eight thousand light years?"
"We were able to detect radio signals from a red giant system in the halo a short time ago."
"And these signals … what makes you think they're from the Makers?" asked Adam.
"They consist of a simple pattern. A sequence of numbers using only the digits one through four."
"You're kidding."
Alpha shook his head. "I am not kidding. The sequence of digits being transmitted represents our genetic code."
And that signal is only eight thousand years old.
Adam was at a loss for words.
"The time has come for you and Linda to learn much more about our ship and your duties."
"That sounds so exciting," Linda said, and then added, "We are looking forward to it, right Adam? And, here, you can put this on."
Adam accepted a single piece of clothing, a dark blue silky thing. As he slid off the table, he waved the crumpled tissue at Alpha.
"Just toss it into the sink."
He lobbed it across the room and it disappeared with a tiny whoosh.
***
She gazed up at the night sky, sitting alone in the middle of a field of grass. The distant noise of Greeters and Visitors carried on the gentle evening breeze, reaching her in broken whispers. It was midnight, and the horizon encircling her view glowed -- a deep crimson line beneath a cloudless sky. The majestic sweep of stars cast a subtle radiance upon the land, as if a master silversmith had cast the field and village beyond with details etched in starlight. She stood up, her naked body at once silhouetted and shimmering.
Someone approached.
"Fay. What are you doing out here?"
"Mar. Nothing really."
"You know you should be in the Welcome Center greeting the Visitors."
Mar scrolled his finger across a small pad, and looked back at Fay. "Do this again, and you will be reported. That means back to the Learning Center, and if that does not help …"
"Do you not wonder at the lights in the sky?"
Mar appeared thrown off stride. He stuttered a reply. "They are the tapestry of the Source. You know this."
"But the Visitors … do they not come from there? Can it be that the lights are like our Source, and they come from places like our
own?"
"There is but one Source."
Mar skewed his head as if to get a better look at Fay. "Are you questioning the Truth?"
She caught the threat in Mar's voice. "No, no. Just random thoughts. I will clear my mind and return to the village."
Mar shook his head. He was one of many Supervisors whose duties included overseeing new ones like Fay.
She was a Greeter, and knew her job well. But unlike the others, who carried on without question, she found herself thinking, perhaps thinking too much. Why these duties needed to be carried out. Why the Source imposed so many rules. In her heart there was a longing. She often wondered about the Visitors and where they came from. She wondered what happened to them after the
Greeting. She was taught that everything came from the Source, and her work was a sacred trust, handed down by the Source. Generations upon generations before her carried out these tasks, these most holy obligations to the Source. But that did nothing to quell her curiosity. Other Greeters like her did not seem to question their roles.
"I must be defective," she whispered to herself.
Maybe she would eventually be like the others. A shudder ran though her frame as she recalled what happened to defectives. Then she noticed Mar. "Why are you still standing there?" Fay asked.
"I will escort you back to the Welcome Center."
***
"What's that?" asked Adam.
Alpha placed a pea-sized pink sphere into the chamber of a large syringe.
"This is a translation node. It will be placed beneath your frontal lobe."
"Whoa, whoa. Remind me why I need this thing?"
"I had mine put in yesterday," said Linda, her face adopting an altogether cheerful expression.
Alpha raised the loaded syringe. "It will allow you to communicate with all your fellow passengers. Once the device attaches itself to
your language centers, it will automatically interpret incoming audio signals and process them into understandable patterns."
"It will attach itself? Is it alive?"
"It is no more than a small computer with wiring designed to automatically interface with your brain's language and audio centers."
Adam's eyes rolled up and he sighed. "Well, I guess if the lady here can take it, then I can too."
Linda smirked, "It'll just hurt for a second."
"What?"
Alpha inserted the syringe into Adam's nostril, and at first, everything went black. Then a lightning bolt flashed. Exquisite pain shot
through his head, down to his toes and back again. When the room lights came back on, he saw two hazy figures. Several tears rolled down his cheek. Both Alpha and Linda returned from the edges of a dark universe, and smiled at him.
Jeez… that was a long second.
"Remind me never to listen to you again. It was like having ten root canals."
"Don't be such a baby."
"It will take a day or two to become fully functional," said Alpha.
Are you talking about the node, or about me?
"In the meantime, you and Linda will be introduced to the ship."
Adam got up off the table, and with Linda's help, wobbled out of the room. They followed Alpha along a darkened hallway, with floor lighting coming on as they moved forward.
I remember this. It's the passageway leading to the stasis chambers. It's coming back. The IV got loose. I woke up on the table, and walked along here. That's when I saw Linda. And farther along … the chambers … with our names on them. When I got back, Alpha was there to help me go back to sleep. And there was something else.
"So, how many are on board? Did we stop to pick up some more?" asked Linda.
"We made several stops. We are now at capacity with one hundred twenty individuals, in pairs representing sixty star systems."
"Wow, so that's sixty medallions?" asked Adam, while tracing the contours of his own through the thin tunic material.
"Exactly. And it is likely there are many more scattered among the systems we passed."
Linda asked, "And each one of those medallions had the same DNA coding?"
"Yes. Essentially, all our genomes began as identical sequences. However, the evolutionary processes on each planet resulted in subtle changes dictated by environment and selection pressure. The usual time for sentient species to arise was from several to a few hundred million years, that is, in your Earth years."
They followed Alpha along the curved hallway, passing several rooms similar to the one they just left. Alpha pointed to one. "These rooms are used for preparation and recovery. Ahead you will see the chambers we use for storage."
"Stasis chambers?" asked Linda.
"Yes. They produce a kind of stasis, wherein the metabolism is slowed down to nearly zero with the help of drugs."
"I couldn't help but notice there's gravity on this ship. How is that possible?" asked Adam.
"The ship is under constant acceleration providing the equivalent of approximately eighty percent of your Earth's gravity."
"Wow, that means you have engines which can produce thrust for hundreds of years?"
"Much longer, if necessary. You will learn more about our propulsion systems shortly."
"At speeds like that, what about the chance of running into something?"
Like a rock.
"And what about the radiation? These speeds can turn simple radiation to deadly … a blue shift, I think?" asked Linda.
Alpha gave her an approving nod. "All in good time. Suffice it to say that interstellar space is nearly a pure vacuum, and that the ship is
equipped with the means to avoid damage by particles or radiation."
They entered a darkened foyer which brightened automatically, revealing a semi-circular arrangement of casket-like compartments. The doors to two of them were propped open.
"Those chambers were, and are, yours. After your scheduled duties are completed, you will return here."
"For another three hundred years? You said our destination is about eight thousand light years away. Exactly how long a trip will this be?" asked Adam.
"We will not stop for any more passengers. We are about to head out toward the halo, and assuming we have correctly identified the home of the Makers, the remaining trip should take no more than a thousand years. Of course, I am referring to the time passing aboard the ship. And, your waking shifts will occur quite often … about every fifty years, for waking periods of several weeks."
Adam mumbled, "That leaves of lot of dead time between shifts. Doesn't someone have to steer the ship?"
Linda shook her head.
Alpha seemed unmoved. "Navigation is handled by automated systems. If an unforeseen circumstance arises, I will be alerted. And there will always be two crewmen on duty. There is nothing to worry about."
Who's worried? Do I look worried?
They walked past the stasis room and into a small alcove. The floor illumination, which had been following them, dimmed out, while the area ahead brightened with similar indirect lighting revealing a set of double doors. These slid apart as Alpha approached.
"Please get in. This elevator will take us to the control room … or the bridge … I think you would call it that."
The doors slid shut and the small cubicle purred, imparting only a minor sensation of movement.
Adam asked, "Who built this ship?"
"It was constructed by a consortium representing several planets. Once the medallions were discovered and found to contain mankind's genetic makeup, their contents were compared. Scientists from these worlds determined that the disks contained clues to our origins. That discovery led to an interplanetary agreement to seek out the Makers."
"How long ago was that?"
"A few thousand years."
"Why so long?" asked Adam.
"At the onset, we detected a number of medallions in our galactic neighborhood. After correcting for the movement of the galaxy over the estimated age of the medallions, their locations appeared to occur in an arc running through one of the spiral arms. Our scientists speculated that they were distributed by an intelligence, and that intelligence had an origin …"
"At the start of the arc," said Adam.
Linda said, "When the medallion was exposed to x-ray radiation there was a burst of neutrinos."
"Yes. The neutrino signature is unique and we used that signal to locate them. The signal also indicated that the finder's technology was sufficiently advanced to give our quest serious consideration."
Adam added, "So that's how you knew to stop at Earth."
"The ship's programming was set to automatically redirect our trajectory if the signal was within the current flight path."
Adam added, "Yeah. Why exactly did you stop to pick us up? You certainly didn't need our expertise to help run this ship."
Before Alpha could reply, the droning came to a stop and the doors opened. Adam had been expecting Hollywood's version of an interstellar spaceship's bridge -- a panoramic screen depicting a vast starfield, instrument stations scattered in an arc manned by a colorful variety of hunched-over humanoids, lights blinking at their consoles, and in the middle, the captain's chair, about to be occupied by none other than himself. But, instead, the room they entered was small, barely illuminated and quiet. A single monitor at its center displayed a blob of blue-white dots. Below that, two people, looking quite human, sat at a shared console.
Well, at least there're some blinking lights.
Alpha turned to look at Adam and Linda. "When we, that is, the consortium decided on the expedition, the decision was made to offer the opportunity to join our quest to any willing to take the risk. Such offers were extended only to those who had discovered the medallions, and had a demonstrated minimal level of technology."
"But why the choice?" asked Adam.
Linda added, "Yeah, we could have easily opted to stay on Earth."
Alpha placed his hands on the shoulders of both. "I mentioned that it was an ethical issue. We do not believe in forcing anyone, and in
addition, it is much better if you are willing and motivated to join. The quest to understand our origins and purpose is likely fraught with danger, since we do not know what lies ahead. It has been millions of years since the disks were sent out. Perhaps the Makers no longer exist, or they may find us to be a pleasant surprise, or …"
"Are more than happy to vaporize us," Adam offered.
"Or they'll be delighted at the arrival of new specimens for their collection," added Linda.
They chuckled as they approached the pair seated at the console.
"Whatever the case, they must be very different from us. Just think of the patience -- seeding the galaxy with an experiment that takes at least a million years. What kind of people could do that?" asked Adam.
Alpha said, "That is our purpose. We will find the Makers and we will then know why we were created."
Why we were created … now I remember … there was a second alien who tried to stop us, to stop this expedition.
"Alpha, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about. You said that one of your passengers was a religious fanatic intent on disrupting the mission. And that it was he who we ran into on Earth. I shot that guy. Did you say that he survived, or was that just my imagination?"
Alpha showed no surprise at the question. "Yes, he survived."
"And where is he now?"
"He has been placed in stasis, and will not be revived until we reach our destination."
The loose IV … I was falling asleep and I heard you speak to me, but you also spoke to someone else.
He was never really frightened by needles, until now.
The Greeter led him through a maze of tunnels to a room illuminated by a glowing ceiling. An incongruous aroma of freshly made caramel cloyed at his nostrils. Before he could ask her even one of a myriad of questions whirling through his mind, she smiled, nodded and left without a word. Recessed doorway panels slid shut behind her, leaving him standing alone amidst an array of metal-gray instruments and machinery. Tethered to the wall by an assortment of pipes and cables, a large sarcophagus-like construction stood
upright in the center of the room with its single door swung open. Its silvery exterior threw back his thin, distorted reflection, while its dark maw glistened with tiny pinpoints of light.
He felt a pressure from behind, as if someone held him by his shoulders and legs. Despite being certain he was alone, he was coaxed forward, in the direction of the awaiting opening. A heavy, sweet odor emanated from within the sinister cavity. An unseen, viscous fluid wrapped itself around his body, weighing down his arms and legs. He tried to cry out, but produced no more than anemic whimpers. His toes skated along the floor as he was maneuvered into position inside the device. A thinning halo of light surrounded the shadow cast by his head, reflecting off each long needle fixed in place only inches from his face. His movement came to a stop. The pressure ebbed away, and thoughts of fleeing the nightmare surged through his panicked mind. Before he regained control of his limbs, the door behind swung closed, forcing him to stand ever so still in total darkness. Although sensation returned to his limbs, and he knew
he could move again, he dared not, for fear of the needles surrounding him. A humming met his ears. His screams were faint and short-lived.
***
Adam did not feel as if three centuries had gone by. He sat up and looked about the room. It was much as he remembered it -- mousy gray walls and cabinets, and a cold metallic table. His eyes had a little trouble focusing, but when at last they did, the wavering shadows coalesced into a tall, black-haired, sallow-skinned man wearing a dark blue, skin-tight suit. He stood before Adam with hands on hips.
"So, how did you enjoy the nap?"
"Alpha. It's you isn't it?"
Adam coughed up some phlegm.
"Yes, yes. Here's a tissue. Your eyes will need a few moments to adjust to the light."
Adam squinted. An IV container stood empty to his side. Alpha stared at him with those unblinking orbs.
"Did you say three hundred years?"
Alpha nodded. "Of course, those are your years -- years that have passed back on Earth."
Adam brought his hand to chin and rubbed.
Alpha added, "Don't worry … the combination of relativistic effects and our stasis process have slowed your aging to a mere week or
so."
Adam winced as he recalled his mother and their final moments together before he left.
Before I left for the stars.
He rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. That was so long ago. He searched for a wastebasket nearby, and then he noticed that he was naked. "Are there clothes or do we strut around here exposed? And, hey, what about Linda? Is she going to be awakened as well?"
A voice from behind Adam brought up a smile. "I'm already up, Dr. Dove. You're the sleepy head."
He turned to see Dr. Linda Garcia dressed in a red, full-body leotard. Her long, silky black hair swung side-to-side as she parted her lips. Reflected light from the ceiling danced across her dark brown eyes. She giggled.
"Linda! It's great to see you … what's so funny?"
Adam turned to look at a wall mirror. His dark brown hair stuck out in every direction. He saw no new wrinkles under his green eyes, and there was just a hint of stubble. Dangling from his neck, a gold medallion caught the
ceiling light. He caressed the disk.
Aged a week and all I see is a five-o'clock shadow. Damned ears are red again. The last time that happened to me was when I came across you in one of these rooms … naked and unconscious, with an IV inserted in your arm.
"Hey, I look pretty good."
Linda patted Adam on his back. "Yeah, not bad for three hundred something."
Adam grinned at Linda. "So, that would make you a three hundred twenty-something, or is that thirty-something?"
She punched him in the shoulder.
Memories of that day crept into view.
We managed to get to Alpha's shuttle. We were both giddy with the adventure before us. Tracking down the origin of the medallion. And the ones who created us … and the others on this ship … from other worlds.
"Some nap. Are we there yet? The home of the … what did you call them?"
"Makers," replied Alpha.
"Yeah, the guys who sent out and planted all those medallions. Three hundred years? I thought we would be taking turns running the
ship."
Alpha's shoulders arched upward. "That was an approximation. Recent data suggest the actual location to be more distant."
"An approximation?"
Alpha bowed his head and stared at the floor as he replied. "We now know the location to be in what you call the galactic halo."
"And where exactly is that?"
"It is roughly eight thousand light years above the galactic plane, in a zone known to contain the oldest stars in the universe."
Adam's stomach tightened. "Eight thousand light years?"
"We were able to detect radio signals from a red giant system in the halo a short time ago."
"And these signals … what makes you think they're from the Makers?" asked Adam.
"They consist of a simple pattern. A sequence of numbers using only the digits one through four."
"You're kidding."
Alpha shook his head. "I am not kidding. The sequence of digits being transmitted represents our genetic code."
And that signal is only eight thousand years old.
Adam was at a loss for words.
"The time has come for you and Linda to learn much more about our ship and your duties."
"That sounds so exciting," Linda said, and then added, "We are looking forward to it, right Adam? And, here, you can put this on."
Adam accepted a single piece of clothing, a dark blue silky thing. As he slid off the table, he waved the crumpled tissue at Alpha.
"Just toss it into the sink."
He lobbed it across the room and it disappeared with a tiny whoosh.
***
She gazed up at the night sky, sitting alone in the middle of a field of grass. The distant noise of Greeters and Visitors carried on the gentle evening breeze, reaching her in broken whispers. It was midnight, and the horizon encircling her view glowed -- a deep crimson line beneath a cloudless sky. The majestic sweep of stars cast a subtle radiance upon the land, as if a master silversmith had cast the field and village beyond with details etched in starlight. She stood up, her naked body at once silhouetted and shimmering.
Someone approached.
"Fay. What are you doing out here?"
"Mar. Nothing really."
"You know you should be in the Welcome Center greeting the Visitors."
Mar scrolled his finger across a small pad, and looked back at Fay. "Do this again, and you will be reported. That means back to the Learning Center, and if that does not help …"
"Do you not wonder at the lights in the sky?"
Mar appeared thrown off stride. He stuttered a reply. "They are the tapestry of the Source. You know this."
"But the Visitors … do they not come from there? Can it be that the lights are like our Source, and they come from places like our
own?"
"There is but one Source."
Mar skewed his head as if to get a better look at Fay. "Are you questioning the Truth?"
She caught the threat in Mar's voice. "No, no. Just random thoughts. I will clear my mind and return to the village."
Mar shook his head. He was one of many Supervisors whose duties included overseeing new ones like Fay.
She was a Greeter, and knew her job well. But unlike the others, who carried on without question, she found herself thinking, perhaps thinking too much. Why these duties needed to be carried out. Why the Source imposed so many rules. In her heart there was a longing. She often wondered about the Visitors and where they came from. She wondered what happened to them after the
Greeting. She was taught that everything came from the Source, and her work was a sacred trust, handed down by the Source. Generations upon generations before her carried out these tasks, these most holy obligations to the Source. But that did nothing to quell her curiosity. Other Greeters like her did not seem to question their roles.
"I must be defective," she whispered to herself.
Maybe she would eventually be like the others. A shudder ran though her frame as she recalled what happened to defectives. Then she noticed Mar. "Why are you still standing there?" Fay asked.
"I will escort you back to the Welcome Center."
***
"What's that?" asked Adam.
Alpha placed a pea-sized pink sphere into the chamber of a large syringe.
"This is a translation node. It will be placed beneath your frontal lobe."
"Whoa, whoa. Remind me why I need this thing?"
"I had mine put in yesterday," said Linda, her face adopting an altogether cheerful expression.
Alpha raised the loaded syringe. "It will allow you to communicate with all your fellow passengers. Once the device attaches itself to
your language centers, it will automatically interpret incoming audio signals and process them into understandable patterns."
"It will attach itself? Is it alive?"
"It is no more than a small computer with wiring designed to automatically interface with your brain's language and audio centers."
Adam's eyes rolled up and he sighed. "Well, I guess if the lady here can take it, then I can too."
Linda smirked, "It'll just hurt for a second."
"What?"
Alpha inserted the syringe into Adam's nostril, and at first, everything went black. Then a lightning bolt flashed. Exquisite pain shot
through his head, down to his toes and back again. When the room lights came back on, he saw two hazy figures. Several tears rolled down his cheek. Both Alpha and Linda returned from the edges of a dark universe, and smiled at him.
Jeez… that was a long second.
"Remind me never to listen to you again. It was like having ten root canals."
"Don't be such a baby."
"It will take a day or two to become fully functional," said Alpha.
Are you talking about the node, or about me?
"In the meantime, you and Linda will be introduced to the ship."
Adam got up off the table, and with Linda's help, wobbled out of the room. They followed Alpha along a darkened hallway, with floor lighting coming on as they moved forward.
I remember this. It's the passageway leading to the stasis chambers. It's coming back. The IV got loose. I woke up on the table, and walked along here. That's when I saw Linda. And farther along … the chambers … with our names on them. When I got back, Alpha was there to help me go back to sleep. And there was something else.
"So, how many are on board? Did we stop to pick up some more?" asked Linda.
"We made several stops. We are now at capacity with one hundred twenty individuals, in pairs representing sixty star systems."
"Wow, so that's sixty medallions?" asked Adam, while tracing the contours of his own through the thin tunic material.
"Exactly. And it is likely there are many more scattered among the systems we passed."
Linda asked, "And each one of those medallions had the same DNA coding?"
"Yes. Essentially, all our genomes began as identical sequences. However, the evolutionary processes on each planet resulted in subtle changes dictated by environment and selection pressure. The usual time for sentient species to arise was from several to a few hundred million years, that is, in your Earth years."
They followed Alpha along the curved hallway, passing several rooms similar to the one they just left. Alpha pointed to one. "These rooms are used for preparation and recovery. Ahead you will see the chambers we use for storage."
"Stasis chambers?" asked Linda.
"Yes. They produce a kind of stasis, wherein the metabolism is slowed down to nearly zero with the help of drugs."
"I couldn't help but notice there's gravity on this ship. How is that possible?" asked Adam.
"The ship is under constant acceleration providing the equivalent of approximately eighty percent of your Earth's gravity."
"Wow, that means you have engines which can produce thrust for hundreds of years?"
"Much longer, if necessary. You will learn more about our propulsion systems shortly."
"At speeds like that, what about the chance of running into something?"
Like a rock.
"And what about the radiation? These speeds can turn simple radiation to deadly … a blue shift, I think?" asked Linda.
Alpha gave her an approving nod. "All in good time. Suffice it to say that interstellar space is nearly a pure vacuum, and that the ship is
equipped with the means to avoid damage by particles or radiation."
They entered a darkened foyer which brightened automatically, revealing a semi-circular arrangement of casket-like compartments. The doors to two of them were propped open.
"Those chambers were, and are, yours. After your scheduled duties are completed, you will return here."
"For another three hundred years? You said our destination is about eight thousand light years away. Exactly how long a trip will this be?" asked Adam.
"We will not stop for any more passengers. We are about to head out toward the halo, and assuming we have correctly identified the home of the Makers, the remaining trip should take no more than a thousand years. Of course, I am referring to the time passing aboard the ship. And, your waking shifts will occur quite often … about every fifty years, for waking periods of several weeks."
Adam mumbled, "That leaves of lot of dead time between shifts. Doesn't someone have to steer the ship?"
Linda shook her head.
Alpha seemed unmoved. "Navigation is handled by automated systems. If an unforeseen circumstance arises, I will be alerted. And there will always be two crewmen on duty. There is nothing to worry about."
Who's worried? Do I look worried?
They walked past the stasis room and into a small alcove. The floor illumination, which had been following them, dimmed out, while the area ahead brightened with similar indirect lighting revealing a set of double doors. These slid apart as Alpha approached.
"Please get in. This elevator will take us to the control room … or the bridge … I think you would call it that."
The doors slid shut and the small cubicle purred, imparting only a minor sensation of movement.
Adam asked, "Who built this ship?"
"It was constructed by a consortium representing several planets. Once the medallions were discovered and found to contain mankind's genetic makeup, their contents were compared. Scientists from these worlds determined that the disks contained clues to our origins. That discovery led to an interplanetary agreement to seek out the Makers."
"How long ago was that?"
"A few thousand years."
"Why so long?" asked Adam.
"At the onset, we detected a number of medallions in our galactic neighborhood. After correcting for the movement of the galaxy over the estimated age of the medallions, their locations appeared to occur in an arc running through one of the spiral arms. Our scientists speculated that they were distributed by an intelligence, and that intelligence had an origin …"
"At the start of the arc," said Adam.
Linda said, "When the medallion was exposed to x-ray radiation there was a burst of neutrinos."
"Yes. The neutrino signature is unique and we used that signal to locate them. The signal also indicated that the finder's technology was sufficiently advanced to give our quest serious consideration."
Adam added, "So that's how you knew to stop at Earth."
"The ship's programming was set to automatically redirect our trajectory if the signal was within the current flight path."
Adam added, "Yeah. Why exactly did you stop to pick us up? You certainly didn't need our expertise to help run this ship."
Before Alpha could reply, the droning came to a stop and the doors opened. Adam had been expecting Hollywood's version of an interstellar spaceship's bridge -- a panoramic screen depicting a vast starfield, instrument stations scattered in an arc manned by a colorful variety of hunched-over humanoids, lights blinking at their consoles, and in the middle, the captain's chair, about to be occupied by none other than himself. But, instead, the room they entered was small, barely illuminated and quiet. A single monitor at its center displayed a blob of blue-white dots. Below that, two people, looking quite human, sat at a shared console.
Well, at least there're some blinking lights.
Alpha turned to look at Adam and Linda. "When we, that is, the consortium decided on the expedition, the decision was made to offer the opportunity to join our quest to any willing to take the risk. Such offers were extended only to those who had discovered the medallions, and had a demonstrated minimal level of technology."
"But why the choice?" asked Adam.
Linda added, "Yeah, we could have easily opted to stay on Earth."
Alpha placed his hands on the shoulders of both. "I mentioned that it was an ethical issue. We do not believe in forcing anyone, and in
addition, it is much better if you are willing and motivated to join. The quest to understand our origins and purpose is likely fraught with danger, since we do not know what lies ahead. It has been millions of years since the disks were sent out. Perhaps the Makers no longer exist, or they may find us to be a pleasant surprise, or …"
"Are more than happy to vaporize us," Adam offered.
"Or they'll be delighted at the arrival of new specimens for their collection," added Linda.
They chuckled as they approached the pair seated at the console.
"Whatever the case, they must be very different from us. Just think of the patience -- seeding the galaxy with an experiment that takes at least a million years. What kind of people could do that?" asked Adam.
Alpha said, "That is our purpose. We will find the Makers and we will then know why we were created."
Why we were created … now I remember … there was a second alien who tried to stop us, to stop this expedition.
"Alpha, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about. You said that one of your passengers was a religious fanatic intent on disrupting the mission. And that it was he who we ran into on Earth. I shot that guy. Did you say that he survived, or was that just my imagination?"
Alpha showed no surprise at the question. "Yes, he survived."
"And where is he now?"
"He has been placed in stasis, and will not be revived until we reach our destination."
The loose IV … I was falling asleep and I heard you speak to me, but you also spoke to someone else.