The Emerald Frame

Prologue

A hand reached out to meet Nimr's face. Panic erupted within him, for the hand had only three fingers attached. Thoughts cluttered his mind. While he was still processing possible explanations for what he was witnessing, his own hand had now subconsciously reached for the mysterious one, a firm grasp established at its wrist.

The scientist was sitting upright in something that resembled a bed. Various tools and apparatuses surrounded him, though he was unable to detract their uses from visuals alone. Standing beside him was a peculiar figure, head covered by a face shield consisting primarily of glass, surrounded by a thin metal frame. Their eyes were locked, the figure's appearing just as shocked as his own probably were. Time seemed to be passing at an unfamiliar rate, as he observed his own movement to not correspond with what he understood to be reality. Was it his heartbeat? Or perhaps his brain was still recovering from a certain shock, his neuron activity somehow accelerated. What had even happened for him to wake in such confusing circumstance?

Nimr retracted his legs and swung them off the edge of the bed to stand up in front of the figure. He mustered it for a second. Or a minute. Female, average height, slim build.

But why the mask? He dared not ask.

Only three fingers. He lifted his other hand and carefully put it on hers. Realising with what blunt force he had been clasping its wrist, he eased his grip before encompassing the three-fingered enigma, now with both hands. Nimr gave it a light squeeze in order to make out the rough bone structure. He pondered on it for an unknown amount of time, but eventually gave up trying to understand how it could possibly make sense.

Slowly, the curious man started carefully pacing around the woman, but made sure to keep his torso facing her. Sliding his hand carefully along her forearm, he felt the softness of her beautifully patterned cloth, coloured in shades of crimson. It bore resemblance to an undersized robe, smooth as silk and free of wrinkles, with a hood covering most of the woman's head.

When his hand reached the elbow, he squeezed again.

The joint felt awkward.

The Ulna is missing, her elbow is impossibly thin. Nimr began imagining possible arrangements of the bones that could explain the forearm to have similar mobility to an ordinary one.

The man advanced another step and, as he reached her shoulder, attempted to feel once more, but the layers of cloth in addition to the relaxed muscles obstructed his sensation. The visuals and location of the arm suggested the shoulder to have no strange features, but, as far as the physicist was concerned, that confirmed nothing.

The mysterious woman had maintained a still stance throughout the entire examination. Was it shock that made her unable to move? Fear of how the suspicious man would react to her unfreezing? Perhaps she was just as confused by him figuring out her arm, as he was by her existence.

Nimr now found himself standing directly behind her. The woman's back showed no unusual signs, though it appeared particularly muscular, even through the robe. He shifted his hands from one shoulder to the other, this time no longer in an attempt to feel anything, but to keep her in check. His hand descended down her arm, admiring the cloth rather than the curious yet impressive physique. He switched his gaze from the arm to her face, as his mind switched from scientist to human.

Their eyes locked.

Why the mask? he thought, as though he could convey the message through his thoughts alone. He felt his facial muscles tense up within the time it took for him to take a breath. Under the given circumstances that could have been anywhere between two seconds and two minutes, for all he knew. Finishing the descent upon reaching her other hand, he made sure to count the fingers again, this time merely by touching them, not lifting his gaze from her face. The count remained unchanged and the intensity of their figurative staring contest increased, as the confused man tried to make out more features. Her irises were emerald-green, which reminded him of the fabulous heaths in the pannonian basin's midsummer back at home. It was not unusual for humans to have green eyes, of course, but he decided to make a link between their rarity and the rest of her weird body nonetheless.

Thin patterns of what could have been tattoos covered parts of her forehead and cheeks. By now Nimr's racing heart had started to dial down a bit. He traced the origin of this relaxation to the woman's eyes, and as his heart slowed, so did his mind. The thoughts which so heavily occupied him moments earlier felt long gone. He failed to resist the urge to reach for the woman's face shield and, just as he had started lifting his hands, a chime suddenly emitted and a hiss, followed by metallic noise, sounded behind him. He struggled to let his eyes off the beautiful green circles in front of him, but eventually overcame this and turned around, adrenaline shooting through his veins once more. The clever scientist was just about to put the pieces together as his vision faded and he began to run out of breath.

Chapter 1

Every summer night, Marcell and I would race to the top of the hill. It was the tallest hill near our village. He had won each time, but that had never stopped me from trying to beat him anyway. That one night, however, I did finally beat him to it. As I completed my final steps towards the hill's sole tree, I landed my hand on the bark and cheered victoriously. Marcell, still approaching, gestured to me to quiet down. We were just kids, after all. Rebels in our own right, who would sneak out late at night, as opposed to sleeping tidily in our beds.

Having finished the race, we climbed atop the hay bales lined up next to the tree, laid down, and watched the stars in awe.

Three years they had been preparing for this very moment. Three years of intense focus, training, evaluation and education. A whole year longer than the usual duration of most astronaut programs. But they were no ordinary astronauts. Project Ikaros, as it was called, could be revolutionary to the human race, if successful. Their entire lives Nimr and Marcell had dreamed of reaching for the stars, telling each other stories, both fictional and real, of tranquillity and of conflict, of discovery and of destruction, of odysseys and of political infightings.

"L minus three hours." the radio sounded, as the fraternal duo was taken off the ground by the elevator next to the launch pad. The preparations had gone smoothly, without interruptions or delays. It was almost too good to be true. Weeks of quarantine, both from possible contamination, any kind of illness that could have compromised their mission, as well as from light. Their circadian rhythms had needed to adapt to the darkness of the endless void.

As the elevator rattled in its ultimate approach to the top, Nimr was starting to have second thoughts. He was going to leave behind his family for a very long time. His family that he so adored. Only minutes had passed since their final goodbye. He could still see their tearing faces, as if they had been burnt into his retina.

"You alright, tes"

The words shook Nimr out of his stasis. He had been standing with his shoulders hung low, staring off into the distance, like a boy who had just watched his favourite sporting hero collapse in failure.

"How does one deal with that?" Nimr replied.

"There've been many astronauts before us. It will fade, just look at the road ahead and we'll be through this in no time."

"Our mission's different. It doesn't compare."

"Then let's set a good precedent for those that come after us."

Nimr hated this. Together, they had grown into an inseparable duo, but he relied on Marcell, as if he were using him like a pillar. Deep down he knew that was not the case, of course, but it felt so nonetheless. It was not mutual, however, as Marcell was more confident and hands-on. Leaving Hungary at the young age of 18 to move to the United States and live their dreams is something Nimr simply lacked the strength to do on his own. Six years had passed since then, and nothing about their dynamic had changed. Six years filled with studying, getting his master's in physics, working hard and training for the program, and yet, there were some things he was unable to learn. All the knowledge of physics in his head would not aid him to solve the problem of becoming a responsible man, one bursting over with self-worth.

Stuck in his own thoughts once more, Nimr was taken by surprise, when the elevator stopped rather suddenly. He stumbled for a second, carefully shifting his weight among his legs to maintain balance. Almost as through telepathic coordination, the duo now started marching towards the Ikaros in tandem.

Seven years.

Nimr had gone over the calculations over and over again with the flight control team. It was going to be the longest space program and it was not even close, but that was only from Earth's perspective of course. Ever since the first scientists in CERN came forward with their solution for this revolutionary drive, many of humanity's brightest minds had come together to realise it. Among those minds was Nimr. Unlike his counterparts, however, he was going to experience it first-hand. The limited manpower was a necessary sacrifice, as the Ikaros needed to be as light as it could possibly be.

Less weight, higher energy efficiency, get closer to the speed of light.

"L minus 50 minutes and counting." Command and control would currently be going through the final briefing. Any external factors that could jeopardise the project in any yet so minute way would be examined. Assistants came to strap in the Hungarian-American astronauts. In the back of his mind, Nimr knew they had made all the calculations correctly, but there was still a small part of him that doubted all his work. Like a little parrot on his shoulder, who would not stop bickering and with every passing moment, the closer they proceeded towards the moment of truth, the louder that parrot was getting.

"So this is it."

Marcell's interruption had caught Nimr off guard once more. This time, however, he was grateful for the gift of momentary silence, as his friend had managed to get the parrot to shut up. The physician could calm down for a bit before formulating an appropriate response.

"I couldn't have done this without you, Marcell."

"I know you're on the high road in your mind already, but we're not there just yet. You can reach your hand for the stars when we get there."

"L minus 15 minutes and counting." The point of no return. The external tank was about to finish being filled up and if anyone in command and control had any last-minute objections or obstacles, this would be the time to chime in. The radio remained quiet.

"This is too good to be true." Nimr said to Marcell.

"Maybe they're just having a coffee break."

"Or perhaps no one's brave enough to speak up and abort the mission."

"If something really was wrong, they'd stop the takeoff. Have some faith."

"I suppose you're right, but the quiet still worries me."

"All lights are green. Mission's a go, Ikaros."

Having completed all the last safety checks, Nimr was starting to feel better. What would be the point of not looking forward to reaping the fruit of his own hard work. It had been his life and his dedication. 24 years he had spent on this rock, and for most of that, he had dreamed of reaching for the stars. His fascination for the unknown was matched only by his fear of it. He could spend years working in laboratories and calculating complex formulae, but actually going out into the vast emptiness was a thought he preferred not to ponder on for too long. Out there was nothing. It was nothing that lay before them. And it was nothing that would surround them for 70 days. But he still had Marcell.

"Copy that, launch control."

The hatch was shut for good.

"L minus nine minutes and counting." The launch sequence was being initiated. Nimr decided to disappear into his thoughts until his actions would be required again.

"L minus seven minutes and counting." Metallic sounds filled the cabin and a brief jolt could be felt as the access arm retracted.

"L minus five minutes and counting."

"APUs online." Marcell responded. This entire operation had been running like clockwork and, like clockwork, numbers were running through Nimr's head. The calculations, not of the launch into orbit, but of the drive that would propel them afterwards.

Seven years.

"L minus two minutes and counting."

The physician found himself slowing his breath with every approaching moment. The gas outlet arm retracted and the next step was initiated, the fraternal duo closing their visors in synchronised manner. Nimr was now counting down between each phase.

Sixty seconds. In five seconds time the power supply would seamlessly switch from ground-dependent to internal. The scientist's heart started beating more frequently, blood pulsing through his body with a force that nearly silenced his thoughts. Multiple hundred thousand litres of water were being sprayed onto the power unit outlets, ensuring no damage would be done by the incredible sonic waves.

Thirty-one seconds.

"Go for launch." Launch control's word confirmed they were 100 per cent committed. It was now impossible to abort the start, no matter what happened.

Sixteen seconds. The spray of water fell silent, as the noise insulation was switched on.

Ten seconds. The engines' ignition kindled in a sparking orchestra.

Seven seconds. In a mighty roar the solid rocket boosters flamed with the power of 15,000 diesel locomotives at the same time as the pyrotechnic fasteners fuzed to fully detach the vessel from the launch pad.

Zero. The engine's quake shaking every bone in the astronauts' bodies was now accompanied by the ever increasing G-forces. Two minutes in, the rocket boosters detached from the external tank, descending back down towards the big blue sphere. Eight minutes past lift-off the forces reached their peak of three times Earth's standard downward acceleration and thirty seconds after that, the external tank was used up and separated at last. A few more minutes of constant thrust would follow before the autopilot had done its job and Marcell could now firmly take control of the vessel.

While it was the technician's job to navigate, Nimr was busy reevaluating the Ikaros' core's parameters. Making sure to run the entire inspection protocol a handful of times so that there was not a single possibility of failure caused by the turbulent ascension experienced in the moments prior. He wondered what the experimental core would be named would it succeed. For now, they simply called it the Christopher-core, named after the patron of travelling. The Christopher-core represented humanity's advance into understanding dark energy. It was capable of generating an extremely small black hole which allowed for the manipulation of dark energy within a certain area, containing any exertion of G-forces by the propulsion in the process. Project Ikaros was the practical realisation of years of theoretical science combined with small-scale experimenting, most notably using particle accelerators.

Nimr knew the calculations off the top of his head. Once conceived, the black hole would produce the energy equivalent of four and a half Saturn V rocket launches within just over six and a half minutes. This would allow the 125 metric ton heavy vessel to acquire a velocity of 99.96 per cent the speed of light.

The physicist finalised the checks and gave Marcell a tap on the shoulder to signal the Christopher-core was ready to go.

"This is it then." the technician responded, showing no objections.

"Who are we really doing this for?"

"Still having doubts?"

"You aren't?"

Marcell gave his dear friend's face a good read before going on.

"Humanity will learn and progress, regardless of whether we make it or not." This answer did little to console Nimr, but regardless of how he felt, there was only one thing left to do.

"You ready?" he asked with a tangible hint of dread in his voice. The nod Marcell responded with was all he needed.

The scientist executed a complicated protocol of pressing buttons and flipping switches. Upon its completion, shrill sounds rang out all around the duo. Ikaros' hull creaked like a spanish galleon being sailed through the toughest of storms. Nimr looked out one of the windows and could see the halo of the sun covering the Earth's horizon. Tears escaped his eyes as he admired the beauty, when suddenly everything turned black, as if someone had just switched off every source of light in the universe outside their cabin. All he had ever wanted was to reach for the stars, and now that he had been as close as ever, they had just vanished. Or was it the Ikaros that had vanished?

"What the fuck is going on?" In all the time they had spent together, never could Nimr have imagined Marcell to lose his grasp of reality, yet here they were. Without saying a single word, the scientist hastily began pressing buttons and flipping switches again, almost too fast for the console to handle all the inputs.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to shut down Christopher."

"You don't know what that'll do. We're already screwed enough as is!"

Marcell interfered with Nimr's actions in an attempt to stop his hacking away at the controls. The creaks were changing pitch rapidly, when suddenly, just as fast as thousands of bright dots appeared outside, the lights of the two Hungarians went out.

Chapter 2

I froze at the check-in. The possibility of never being able to return home was a fact I had yet to reconcile with.

"Come on, Tes don't wanna be late."

"I'm not sure I wanna do this, Marcell."

"It's not just about what we want. We will lead humanity into the next chapter, into a better future."

Still contemplating my dear friend's words, I passed the security check and picked up my bags, which somehow felt heavier than they had before. Like the eternal weight that had been dragging me down all my life whenever it was time to face a new challenge. At least I had Marcell with me.

There was an omnipresent vibration being emitted in complex rhythmic fashion, accompanied by a deep humming noise. But it was the light that woke Nimr from what appeared to have been a deep sleep in a very comfortable bed. And yet, far too much light. No matter what level of lucidity his mind achieved, the brightness was too much for his eyes to open to a significant extent. He decided to channel all his efforts into using his auditory sense instead. He was able to make out the texture of a voice. It was soft, angelic almost. Though he could not comprehend the words being spoken, it was still nice to listen. Finally his eyes were beginning to adapt to the brightness of the room. Upon opening them, the man was able to observe monitors with complex outputs to his left, his vision still too blurry to acquire any meaningful information that was displayed on them. The voice was beginning to sound clearer, as he looked to his right, where he saw various pieces of equipment placed on a metallic table.

"Speak to me" the heavenly voice said. Whether those words were merely a friendly request, or an order, it would all have sounded the same to Nimr. The state of his mind still unable to provide him any certain information about his surroundings. He would have loved to have responded, but he felt too weak, his body resisting against its host's demands. The Hungarian fought back with all the power he could muster, and managed to push his elbows into the mattress below him, elevating his torso and making him truly feel awake once adrenaline shot into his blood as a response to his action. A strange beeping noise of unintelligible source erupted, its frequency increasing. In spite of the disconcerting sounds, the struggling man, his body now truly convinced he was not just alive, but conscious, gathered strength for one more time to muster a response, when suddenly a hand reached out to meet Nimr's face.

The scientist awoke in the same bed once more, his senses much clearer this time around.

"Where's Marcell?" Nimr had not even confirmed there was anyone in the room, let alone evaluated the discovery he made the last time he woke up.

Perhaps it was just a dream?

He looked around the vicinity and found the same woman standing there, keeping a larger distance this time.

She's scared.

"Your friend will be alright, but he needs more time to recover."

It was not a dream. He could hear it in its tone of voice. Confusion, anticipation, dread. But at the very least, it seemed to try to normalise the situation, like it was all a big misunderstanding.

But what is it? And why the mask? Nimr started opening his mouth to ask questions so the mystery could at last be solved, but he knew not where to start.

"Whatever it is you went through, I can understand if you are confused. You will need time, but for now, I am here for you." The figure had just spoken to him as if they had found themselves in ordinary condition.

"What are you?"

"Excuse the confusion. I suppose you haven't met a Kinotan before?"

"Kinotan?"

"My name is Shalilah."

Shalila's eyes made a relaxed impression, but in spite of Nimr's question having been given a seemingly appropriate response, he had not been enlightened of the situation at hand.

"Please... help me understand."

"You and your friend have experienced heavy physical trauma travelling with that spaceship of yours. Whoever ordered your mission will be in serious trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Cheap and antique. It lacks various security systems and measures. No serious organisation should have authorised such an operation to go ahead."

I made an error. Self-doubt started to creep into Nimr's mind. All this calculation and reevaluation. Something still must have gone wrong. But what would that mean in the context of time?

"Look, I am sure you had your reasons. I will not question it, but I am obligated to report this event. You will have to give us answers soon."

How dare she. This woman demanded answers, yet she was the one holding all the cards. Nimr needed to turn this ship around fast.

"How about you give me some answers first?"

"What would you like to know?" The words left her mouth with a strong hint of innocence. It almost made him feel guilty for having expressed himself so harshly.

"What are you?"

"As previously stated, I am a Kino-"

"That word means nothing to me." Nimr responded with a certain amount of desperation. The woman's expression changed from softly sympathetic to irritated to judgmental. The air between the two thickened, nearly eliminating the ubiquitous humming and vibration.

"Perhaps the sedation dosage was too high for your vulnerable state." Shalilah said with a raised eyebrow.

So that's why I got unconscious again. Slowly but surely, the scientist was once more beginning to put the pieces together.

"You sedated me?" he said with poorly enacted outrage and continued the work in his head while making sure he would not corrupt his logic with error.

"I figured there was not much chance to talk you into reason. You seemed too far gone from reality..."

She may not be human, but there certainly isn't much distinguishing her from one.

"...and it looks like that much has not changed."

Time dilation. If something went wrong with Christopher then the time dilation could have exceeded expected parameters. Perhaps she was human after all, the result of evolution or mutation. But that wouldn't explain...

"Are you even listening?"

"What year is it?"

"Which calendar are you asking for?" she responded, giving off an annoyed tone.

We have multiple calendars now. Must be a result of humanity firmly establishing space flight. Exactly how long have we been gone?

"Gregorian."

"I am guessing that is the human one? Let me look it up." As the mysterious woman approached a terminal behind the monitors to Nimr's left, his world started turning upside down again. The human one. What exactly was she? What is a Kinotan? What was that other figure he had seen before Shalilah sedated him? As if fate had been listening to his thoughts, the door opened once again. The monitors began beeping at an obnoxiously high frequency. Shalilah turned to give Nimr a quick look, subsequently deciding to continue operating the terminal with increased intensity. The scientist was frozen in dread, eyes wide open. The ominous figure stood nearly two metres tall in front of the room's sole entrance and wore a dark grey uniform with a turtleneck. The last thing Nimr had seen before everything had blacked out. Just like Shalilah, this creature looked fundamentally humanoid, however, below the usual arms rooted at the shoulders originated another pair, seemingly crossed behind its back. The ones facing forward had five fingers each and were holding some kind of futuristic tablet. The skin was reddish brown and although the facial structure and features could have been found on a regular human, so much so that the physician recognized this thing to be female, the top of its head was covered in four tentacles that originated above the forehead and hung down the back, ending just above where its lower set of arms was rooted.

"Twenty-two fifty-two."

The red creature appeared to be responding to Shalilah in a way unintelligible to Nimr. It could have been a human language unbeknownst to him, accompanied by unregular clicking sounds.

"He asked about it. It seems his memory still has not recovered from the accident."

Twenty-two fifty-two. Only now was the confused man comprehending this answer. As he tried to formulate another question, the red creature was now facing towards him. Once again it started talking and clicking, eyes locked onto Nimr.

"He has no personal translator." Shalilah said while pacing towards the other side of the bed. She started hitting digital buttons on a terminal as small as both of Nimr's hands' areas combined, before the red creature opened its mouth again.

"We have recovered the black box from your craft. It suggests you travelled from Sol to Procyon, which contradicts the intended path of your journey. Whatever atrocities you committed for the core to fail this miserably, our team will find the answers. It would, however, greatly accelerate the process if you started talking now." The red figure's words had come out in very harsh fashion, giving it the aura of a military commander. Feeling threatened in an unnegotiable position, the physician could not possibly demand compromise.

"What do you wanna know?" he responded, as his guts wrenched to the fact he was speaking to something so strange.

"Who do you work for and what was the goal of your voyage?" Shalilah flinched as though to step in to slow down the interrogation that was suddenly taking place, but Nimr proceeded nonetheless.

"It's a new propulsion system. Supposed to get us as close to light speed as possible. We were aware of the dangers of time dilation, but something must have gone horribly wrong." He could feel his nerves tingling more and more as his mind and body were finally starting to understand the severity of the situation.

The red figure shifted its glance at Shalilah, seemingly looking for more answers, but the Kinotan continued patiently looking at Nimr, waiting for his next input. Every cell in his body told him to stop, and tears were starting to appear in his eyes, but he went on. "We only should've skipped seven years." His voice had started shaking towards the end of the statement, and he was now staring into the distance, as if the red creature's stomach region had a window for him to see through.

"What year did you think it was?" Shalilah interrupted with a compassionate tone.

"Marcell and I set off in twenty thirty-four." By the time Nimr had responded, the green-eyed woman had already begun passionately knocking at the larger terminal's controls. After she completed her final inputs, the display scrolled upwards a few thumb widths and an untranslated mumble of words escaped Shalilah's mouth.