Captain Tom Walker (Chapter 2)

{color:grey}Captain’s Log: 2785.260.  The crew is anxious, there is a very important trait still to be tested – can this crew, a hodge-podge of humanity work effectively as a team?  Well, we will find out in 300 years.

299 Years Later

Chapter 2

         Scorpio and her crew of five women and five men, commanded by Captain Tom Walker, lay secure in their Individual Suspended Life Support Capsules as the ship streaks through space and deep into the Trenton Galaxy.  For 299 years the ship has shot past large and small, charted and unknown planets.  Past dead or dying sun's and through a maze of solar systems that stretch clear to the edge of the universe.  And while pulled by invisible magnetic forces, some so strong they could easily crush any man made substance, the large ship has been pushed to an unimaginable velocity.  But now, as Scorpio and her escort of support vehicles near its destination, small booster jets come to life on the aft end of the ship.  Their steady streams of compressed air gently nudge the craft into a reverse trajectory.  And when the ship’s course is stable the main breaking engine fire engulfing the mother ship and its accompaniment of Tags in a ball of bright red and orange flame.  Shock wave after shock wave crash through the ship as it slows from its lightning speed. 

         No fueled power was required to allow the ship to gain its tremendous speed, but the entire load of 365 million pounds of rocket fuel will be required to slow the probe to a manageable moc-10. 

         At moc-20, solar powered generators come to life.  And after being dormant for nearly 300 years the interior of Scorpio begins to flicker to life.  At moc-15, robots, which have stood silent and completely inactive since speeding past the gravitational pull of Mars, spring into action. 

         While the humans remain in their suspended state, robots check and cross check the ship's life support systems.  Courses are laid in and estimates made to the most likely inhabitable planets. 

         At moc-10 gentle waves of oxygen rich air is forced into each of the capsules while monitoring sensors begin reading levels of life-enhanced body functions.  Then, when each of the capsules are reading activities at satisfactory levels, low-level electric charges are shot through each of the human’s brains as vibrating blasts of air are forced into each capsule and into their occupants lungs. 

         As each man and woman’s monitored auto biological readings reach proper levels, capsule hatches are automatically triggered and for the first time in 299 years, the organism within begin to breathe on its own. 

         Robots move each human to specially designed gurneys, made from an Electro-magnetic fabric that will monitor and assist the humans to continue recovering from their long sleep. 

         Nutrition enhanced and fortified liquids are forced through long transparent tubes and down the throats of each of the humans.  And after a proper rubdown, nourishment and check-up, each human is rolled to a private quarter where they will enter into normal sleep, allowing their bodies to regain total normal muscular function. 

         No human has spoke, for to attempt would permanently damage vocal chords.  But as with their muscle function, the use of their voice will return following a proper periods of medicated rest.

         As Scorpio silently sails through an alien space, small retrorocket, at the nose of the ship, fire in short bursts, slowing the craft and its accompaniment of tag-along's to moc-1.  The onboard guidance computers then initiate detailed scans of individual star systems in search of potential life supporting planets.

         As the human members of Scorpio’s crew lie in body-system monitoring beds robots begin the task of ferrying food supplies from the agricultural lab where they have been grown and tended for the past two solar years.  Then, and as each series of tasks are completed, that particular robot reverts to a state of inaction and soon silence again rules Scorpio and the probe travels on.

         In astronomical years, the Trenton Galaxy is a young system.  Its planets, suns and belts were formed long after life on Mars became extinct and about the time the dinosaurs ruled on Earth.  Unlike other systems, the Trenton system has only one planet that will support life.  This planet, named Shum by its inhabitance, is located near the center of the third swirling arm extending from Trenton's center.  Two sub-suns rotate around Shum, creating a condition of continual daylight.

         Shum is covered with a fast growing grass-like shrub, called Squall, the inhabitance only source of food and building material.  Excavated tunnels and pockets of subterranean cannels are where the beings of Shum make their living as well as their recreation area.  Boiling caldrons of molten lava located at either pole, is the only remaining evidence of Shum's once uninhabitable liquid surface.

         Humanoids that have evolved from simple plant-like creatures dominate the valleys, mountain peaks and plains of Shum.  These creatures have developed a language not unlike that on Earth and have become proficient in scientific research.  They have yet to advance to space travel but has begun sending research probes and radio transmissions to other parts of their Galaxy.

         A ruthless monarch named Posh governs Shum with an iron fist – and at his bidding call are the Pails, a warrior like creature numbering in the thousands.  The Pails patrol the surface of Shum in constant search of any threat or danger to the planet and its inhabitance.

         A panel of sub-governors assists their monarch in keeping peace in their world.  Nothing can happen without this governing bodies approval.

         The vast majority of creatures on Shum are Scientists.  But unlike the status given these men on Earth, Scientists on Shum hold status below all other life forms.

         Life on Shum is simple.  The inhabitances of the planet are grouped into three categories, the Squall-Gatherers, Scientists and Governors.  A child born to a Squall-Gatherer will be a Squall-Gatherer, likewise with the Scientist and Governor. 

         Science Labs are located at strategic locations around the planet's surface; each assigned a specific purpose.  The labs at the poles keep check on the flow of molten lava.  Labs equally spaced around the planet's equator search for incoming asteroids and meteors.  And labs located on the highest mountain peaks check for sign of extraterrestrial life.  Mot, the Leading Mountain-Scientist and developer of the Code Translator, is assigned to such a lab, where he has worked for practically all of his 350 earth years.

***

         Captain Tom Walker slowly opens his eyes.  He looks around, checks his ability to speak, then slowly and extremely carefully, moves his finger.  A smile forms on Tom's face as he realizes that they have made it.  300 years in space and he is alive and by the look of the skin on the back of his hand, has not aged one day. 

         "Attention on deck . . . Attention on deck.  This is your pilot speaking.  Time to get up – people." 

         Tom chuckles at the sound of Rogers’s voice over the intercom.  The Captain then keys the communications panel          over his bunk and says in a squeaking, cracking new voice, "Roger - I’ll be right there.  By the way, where the hell are we?"  Then with a questioning tone, hopeful of the answer but fearing the worse the Captain also asks, “Did everyone make it?”
 
         Suddenly, the ship is filled with loud booming laughter, as Roger replies.  "Where are we? Where are we?  (More laughter) we are in space?  And Tom, you had better get up here, you will not believe what I am looking at.  And Captain, all life function readings on all crew members are within safety ranges – We all made it, thank God!"

         "Hurry Tom!"  A female voice roars through the ships halls and Tom jumps from his bed, then almost collapses as he stands on wobbly legs. 

         Walker’s smile is uncontrollably large as he reaches to the control panel, presses the button and says, "Sally!  You up too?" 

         "Yes, and it's beautiful, Hurry!" 

         “Be right there, as soon as I find my legs."

Meanwhile, on the planet called Shum

         Mot stands over a series of strange looking marks etched into an ancient slab.  His hands shake as he runs his long fingers over the marks and his mind wanders back to the time when he was new to the scientific world.  A time when he saw the excitement in his father’s dark eyes at receiving this signal from some far off, distant and unknown world.

         It has been him, Mot, Chief Mountain-Scientist, who invented the machine that after such a long time has allowed him to finally decipher the meaning of the marks.  Mot then raises his eyes to the sky and whispers, "Father . . . I have it!  Finally, I have it!"

         Again Mot checks, then rechecks his calculations.  He runs to a panel of buttons and switches, activates several bright green tags then steps back and watches as the machine begins to hum.  Soon flashing lights display a series of letters and numbers and Mot screams, "They’re here!  By all the powers of the Universe, they are here!"

         "Dorn . . . Dorn, come in here, quickly!"  Mot is running around the mountaintop lab, collecting notes,
calculations and the slab, as Dorn enters the lab. 

         "Yes, Father."  The youngest member of the scientific community stands at the wall opening, his black eyes open wide at his father's unusual movements. 

         "I must go to the Governor’s Assembly.  Here is what you must do."  As Mot passes his son, he hands him a parchment.  There is a chuckle, a laugh, happiness in Mot's voice as he ads.  "This is an important day in our history, remember, my son.  So you can tell your son."

         As Mot disappears down a long subterranean tunnel, leading to the transporter, Dorn turns his eyes to the parchment  "Activate the Long Range signaling device."  Mot's son quickly moves to a panel on the far wall of the lab and after removing a security tag, turns a large "T" handle.  He can feel a slight trembling in the ground as large dish like antennas slowly emerge from subterranean shafts a short distance away, then turn their cupped heads toward the sky.  At the top of the panel, a white light begins to flash and Dorn activates a solitary large flat button and instantly the panel begins to emit a pulsating hum.

Meanwhile, back on Scorpio(/size}

         One by one, members of Scorpio's crew enter the Recreation Hall.  Still silent and in somewhat of a daze, they take a seat at a long table and are presented with specially prepared liquids.  The time spent in the Life Suspension Chambers has left their bodies dehydrated and badly in need of the cell-enhancing nourishment.

         With a crackling, wavering voice, Captain Tom Walker asks, as he enters the room, "Everyone OK?" 

         "Sheila is not here," answers Rowan, Tom's first in command. 

         "Computer - Check on Sheila."  Commands Tom in a weak but improving tone of voice. 

         Almost instantly, a strong, clear female computer voice announces, "Captain, Sheila is taking a shower, she will be here directly." 

         Meager attempts at laughter rise from the gathered members of the crew, "That's Sheila alright.  You would think she has not had a shower in 299 years, when it seems like just yesterday we all bathed."  This time the laughter is stronger and long.

         "What are you laughing about?" Comes a frail definitely feminine voice at the doorway.  Tom and the other members of the crew look to see Sheila enter.  She has cleaned her body, dressed in bright colorful very suggestive clothing and produces a large smile as she quickly moves to Tom's side, strokes his hair and says, "I must look presentable for the father of my child." 

         "Woo Hoo Hoo!"  Come calls of laughter from every member of the crew.  Sheila then bends down and places a gentle, loving kiss on the top of Tom's head.  And again catcalls and laughter rise from the crew. 

         "Tom, I think you had better take a look at this."  Says Roger, sitting at the main control panel. 

         Tom rises to his feet, his legs still a little uncertain, and moves toward the panel.  As he approaches he looks to the other side of the bridge and at Brad, Chief Engineer, and says, "Make a systems check of the ship and Tag-alongs, Chief.  See if we are still in one piece." 

         "Roger," answered Brad as he turns toward the
Systems Annulus Panel.

         "We are receiving a signal from somewhere in this system." 

         Tom looks at the bright green com-screen, then asks, "What is it, and where is it coming from?" 

         Roger waves his hands over the flashing screen and when a representation of the Trenton system is displayed, he asks, "Computer . . . Signal . . . Where?" 

         Almost instantly, a pinpoint of light begins to pulsate.  "That be it,"  Roger says. 

         "Computer . . . Translate." 

         For several long moments, Tom and Roger watch as numbers, letters and symbols flash across the monitor.  Then the screen goes blank and the computer announces, Sorry, no known language, sign, symbol nor equation match this signal.  But it is humanoid in nature.

         Most of the crew stands around Tom and Roger, as they continue to investigate the incoming signal.  "How long to get there?" Kim, Chief Medical Officer, asks. 

         Roger types several equations into the computer, then sits back.  Shortly several figures begin to flash on the screen.  "At our present heading and rate of speed we should be arriving in about six months, earth time," answers Roger as he turns in his chair.

         "Rowan, increase the Magnetic Power Drive to ten rods, lets cut that time in half."  Tom says, a big smile on his face. 

         "Roger{/}," Tom's first in command answers.  He then looks at the com-screen and while reading the numbers, ads, "And set our course to 234.7 by 6765.7, we have a planet to visit." 

         "Roger . . . will do."  Rowan answers, a chuckle in his voice.

         With this portion of their search for a home complete, members of the crew begin filing toward various parts of the ship, a feeling of excitement in the air and hope in their minds.

         Silently, Scorpio followed by two shinning tags slips through a distant, new space.  A space ten travelers from Earth now call home.

Back on Shum{{/i}

         "What are you doing here?  The Council has not summoned you."  Asks a distinguished looking Governor as he passes Mot seated outside the grand meeting hall. 

         "I have a matter of great urgency to present the Council of Governors," Mot answers. 

         "This is very unusual, I am not sure the council can see you at this time.  We are discussing matters of importance." 

         Mot then stands, his arms wrapped around parchment, the slab and files, "You do not understand, Governor, I must address the council, and I must address them immediately!"

         The Governor steps back, looks at the materials Mot is trying so desperately to keep within his grasp, the expression on his face and the determination in his dark eyes and says, "Scientist, you wait here, I will speak with the Great Posh.  And sit down, before you fall down."