travel is relatively safe, but we have lost people.
Now I'm one of them , Matt thought.
Amassing fragments of consciousness, Matt swam deeper into his memories of that same classroom lecture to discern what would happen next. Something the instructor said, about passing through the AC System, then through the other side of the Centauri Oort, then into the almost pure vacuum of interstellar space, and then hurling through the depths of interstellar space forever. The class instructor had tried to be positive about that.
In the unlikely event that this should happen to you , we'll do all we can to rescue you. Maybe someday we'll send a robot probe to catch up with you and bring you back. Maybe someday we'll be able to violate the laws of physics and travel faster than light and catch up with you that way. Maybe you'll pass by a star inhabited by intelligent extraterrestrials with a star-faring civilization of their own, and we'll let them know you're coming and they'll catch you and toss you back . . . or keep you as a pet . . . or something.
Matt remembered the whole class breaking into laughter. Not so funny now.
“So,” he said. “Is there something we can do?”
“I'm sorry, you're slurring your subvocalization too much. Could you please repeat?”
“Is. Something. We. Can. Do?”
“We can wait for rescue. I have no other options. I revived you in the hopes that you would.”
“Would what?”
“Have other options.”
“Oh.”
Think , Matt told himself. I van woke you because you're the human, you're the creative one who is supposed to come up with crazy ideas that just might work. Because that's what humans do.
Matt remembered his lessons from Creativity Class. First Step to Creative Idea: gather information.
“How . . . bad . . . is sail . . . damaged?”
“Damage is at sixty-eight point nine percent.”
“I mean . . . what does that mean?”
“We cannot decelerate fast enough before leaving Alpha Centauri System behind.”
“Okay, but so . . . sail is still okay to decelerate.”
Ivan paused. “I perceive the direction of your inquiry. You wish to know whether it would be possible to deflect our course to an alternate star system and utilize the Oort Cloud at that destination to decelerate completely.”
Matt wasn't sure that was what he had been getting at, but said, “Okay.”
Ivan paused. “There are several thousand star systems with potentially habitable planets that are targetable for such a maneuver.”
“Okay. Let's choose one.”
“The nearest one is Delta Pavonis.”
“Okay. Go there.”
Many years later, Matt would review Ivan's recording of their conversation and marvel at how quickly he had made such a fateful decision. But at the time he wasn't thinking clearly, and there wasn't anything to think about anyway. There really had been no choice.
Ivan promptly replied, “Understood. Interfacing with pod AI, requesting navigation change . . . approved. Matt, I should inform you that telescopic and probe surveys indicate that there is no life in the Delta Pavonis System. It is highly unlikely that our pod will be retrieved upon arrival. It is also unlikely that it will ever be retrieved.”
Matt was as far from lucidity as a conscious mind could be when he retorted, “We'll see.”
And then, dreamlessly, forty years became four hundred, and more.
5.
The guards at the main gate of the imperial palace had seen Archimedes before, and his paperwork stating that he was there at the invitation of the emperor was in order, but still they insisted on patting his robes and examining his walking staff. Archimedes went along placidly until a guard contemplated the old man's long white beard.
Archimedes knew better than to make sarcastic remarks to swords even when sheathed, so he said flatly, "I don't have a dagger in there. And so help me if you yank even a single hair, I shall inform the Emperor
Now I'm one of them , Matt thought.
Amassing fragments of consciousness, Matt swam deeper into his memories of that same classroom lecture to discern what would happen next. Something the instructor said, about passing through the AC System, then through the other side of the Centauri Oort, then into the almost pure vacuum of interstellar space, and then hurling through the depths of interstellar space forever. The class instructor had tried to be positive about that.
In the unlikely event that this should happen to you , we'll do all we can to rescue you. Maybe someday we'll send a robot probe to catch up with you and bring you back. Maybe someday we'll be able to violate the laws of physics and travel faster than light and catch up with you that way. Maybe you'll pass by a star inhabited by intelligent extraterrestrials with a star-faring civilization of their own, and we'll let them know you're coming and they'll catch you and toss you back . . . or keep you as a pet . . . or something.
Matt remembered the whole class breaking into laughter. Not so funny now.
“So,” he said. “Is there something we can do?”
“I'm sorry, you're slurring your subvocalization too much. Could you please repeat?”
“Is. Something. We. Can. Do?”
“We can wait for rescue. I have no other options. I revived you in the hopes that you would.”
“Would what?”
“Have other options.”
“Oh.”
Think , Matt told himself. I van woke you because you're the human, you're the creative one who is supposed to come up with crazy ideas that just might work. Because that's what humans do.
Matt remembered his lessons from Creativity Class. First Step to Creative Idea: gather information.
“How . . . bad . . . is sail . . . damaged?”
“Damage is at sixty-eight point nine percent.”
“I mean . . . what does that mean?”
“We cannot decelerate fast enough before leaving Alpha Centauri System behind.”
“Okay, but so . . . sail is still okay to decelerate.”
Ivan paused. “I perceive the direction of your inquiry. You wish to know whether it would be possible to deflect our course to an alternate star system and utilize the Oort Cloud at that destination to decelerate completely.”
Matt wasn't sure that was what he had been getting at, but said, “Okay.”
Ivan paused. “There are several thousand star systems with potentially habitable planets that are targetable for such a maneuver.”
“Okay. Let's choose one.”
“The nearest one is Delta Pavonis.”
“Okay. Go there.”
Many years later, Matt would review Ivan's recording of their conversation and marvel at how quickly he had made such a fateful decision. But at the time he wasn't thinking clearly, and there wasn't anything to think about anyway. There really had been no choice.
Ivan promptly replied, “Understood. Interfacing with pod AI, requesting navigation change . . . approved. Matt, I should inform you that telescopic and probe surveys indicate that there is no life in the Delta Pavonis System. It is highly unlikely that our pod will be retrieved upon arrival. It is also unlikely that it will ever be retrieved.”
Matt was as far from lucidity as a conscious mind could be when he retorted, “We'll see.”
And then, dreamlessly, forty years became four hundred, and more.
5.
The guards at the main gate of the imperial palace had seen Archimedes before, and his paperwork stating that he was there at the invitation of the emperor was in order, but still they insisted on patting his robes and examining his walking staff. Archimedes went along placidly until a guard contemplated the old man's long white beard.
Archimedes knew better than to make sarcastic remarks to swords even when sheathed, so he said flatly, "I don't have a dagger in there. And so help me if you yank even a single hair, I shall inform the Emperor
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