Conversations in Space

by Paul Stansbury

The Kūaka hurtled through space, its New Hope colonists slumbering in suspended animation. Inside, all was still in the darkness except for its passengers’ thoughts coalescing in a reality beyond the bounds of the conscious and subconscious.  

“They say before the sixth ice age, Earth was mostly green and great oceans, lakes, and rivers were found everywhere,” said Diana. “That was until super volcanos in old America, Europe and Australia erupted and filled the sky with smoke and debris.”

“Before that, people lived all over the surface of Earth. They breathed fresh air and enjoyed the sun,” Jacques added, “not hovelled in cubicles breathing stale air under the ice or in underground barracks.”

“Do you think Boursaw 7 will be green? That there will be liquid water? Will there be air so we could live on the surface?” Connie asked.

“Projections point to an environment much like old Earth before the ice age,” replied Matthew, “If not, why mount such an ambitious expedition?”

“Yes, indeed. Why mount such an expedition?” mused Jacques. “Think of it, travelling through space for nearly 500 years at near light speed. Lying in our cocoons in suspension, we hope to reach a planet that no one has ever seen, ever set foot on. In a sense, we have wagered our futures on the speculation of the scientists of Wooton Outlands Exploration.”

“Speaking of suspension, Matthew, how is it we have this conversation?” Mario asked. “I thought nothing happened during suspension.”

“Matthew, do you think we have the same conversation each time?” inquired Danyal, “or do we have different conversations? I don’t remember other conversations, only what it was like before suspension.”

“I don’t know,” Matthew replied. “They said studies had shown we might experience something like a lucid dream. Leading up to the launch, test subjects reported having such contacts during suspension, even though prior they were unknown to each other.”

“How can that be?” asked Ivána, “Like Mario, I was taught suspended animation was suspension or cessation of the vital functions, with loss of consciousness. Like death, but not death.”

“Yes, but perhaps our minds continue to function in a state beyond the subconscious,” added Danyal. “As I understand it, our bodies continue to function, we even age, but at an extraordinarily slow rate. If we have been having the same conversation, for how long?”

“I can’t remember other conversations. Doesn’t mean they don’t occur,” said Binta.

“You’re the expedition leader aren’t you Matthew? Don’t you know?” asked Ivána.”

“Yes, I am the expedition leader, but sadly, I don’t know the answer to that question. Would that I had such insight. We know our journey to Boursaw 7 will take just under 500 years at near light speed. Yet, I have no sense of the passage of time. Have any of you?”

“No.”

“Not me.”

“Nor I.”

“I think,” continued Matthew, “these conversations or dreams, if you will, exist in the moment without us remembering. What matter is there if it is the same or different each time…”  

* * *

Electrical stimulation pulsed through Matthew’s body. A warning signal melted his conversation. Gradually, his cocoon illuminated, allowing his eyes to accommodate to the light. He fought off the momentary nausea that accompanied coming out of suspension. His cocoon’s curved lid slid open.

He breathed in the stellar convoy’s stale air as illumination lights began to glow. He sat up, looking into the vast interior of the spaceship, Kūaka, filled with nine hundred and seven cocoons just like his: The New Hope Colony. Behind the Kūaka, five cargo vessels would be following, carrying everything he and his nine hundred and six companions would need to colonize Boursaw 7. Everything, perhaps, except hard work and some luck.

He ran his hand down the inside of the cocoon and retrieved a bottle. He took a sip of the liquid it contained, a syrupy elixir designed to replenish his natural saliva and provide a boost of energy. The warning signal continued to sound as he allowed his equilibrium to stabilize. He clipped the bottle to his belt, then pushed up with his arms, floating free a few inches above the cocoon. He nudged himself toward an opening in the bulkhead to the cockpit. Floating through, he pulled himself into the pilot’s seat. After fastening the seat belt, he examined the ship’s status hologram. Systems were operating at optimum levels. Further examination revealed the ship was receiving a hailing signal. What? How can there be a hailing signal in unexplored space? Must be a rogue signal.

“Evaluate signal,” rasped Matthew. He took another sip.

“Signal operating on standard hailing frequency.”

“Open frequency to receive hailing signal.” How can this be?

“Frequency opened,” replied Kūaka’s sim-voice.

“…do you receive?” floated another sim-voice over the speakers. “Unidentified vessel, this is the Elgan, identify and please state your intentions. Over…”

Matthew searched the status screen to determine the Elgan’s location. It lay dead ahead, though at a considerable distance. It appeared to be matching the Kūaka’s speed. “This is the stellar transport Kūaka on a peaceful mission to Boursaw 7. I am expedition leader Matthew Ellis.”

“What is the purpose of your mission?”

“We are the New Hope Colony out of Earth. Our mission is to colonize Boursaw 7. What is your mission?”

There was silence.

“Come in Elgan. Repeat. This is the stellar transport Kūaka on a peaceful mission to Boursaw 7. What is your mission?”

“Kūaka reported lost 452 OES years ago.”

“OES?”

“Old Earth Standard.”

“I don’t understand,” said Matthew.

“Kūaka reported lost 452 OES years ago. Five years after launch.”

“Lost? How can that be? Here we are…” Matthew scanned the status hologram, “and ship’s computer confirms the Kūaka is right on course for Boursaw 7. Elgan, who are you and what is your purpose?”

“We are a fleet ship of the Boursawnian Space Force on routine patrol. We decided to investigate after we detected your ship approaching.”

What! “Boursawnian Space Force!” stammered Matthew. “I don’t understand.”

“Boursaw 7 was colonized 446 OES years ago. The entire planet was incorporated as a single independent political entity named Boursawnia 50 OES years later.”

“Colonized by whom?” asked Matthew.

“Emigrees from Earth under the auspices of Wooton Outlands Exploration.”

“How could that be?”

“Examination of Earth records indicates that Wooton Outlands Exploration developed HLT capability soon after the Kūaka embarked on its journey.”

What’s that? “HLT?”

“Hyperlight Transit, the ability to travel faster than the speed of light. Old Earth news sources from the time reported allegations that The New Hope Colony project was used by Wooton Outlands Exploration as a method to secure funding from the International Off World Colonization Consortium for its own research. That company was responsible for construction of your personnel carrier and the accompanying five cargo ships. There were claims of vast overbilling which was diverted for research on the HLT technology.”

“How could that be?” Matthew gripped the edge of his seat with one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.

“According to the records, several international investigations were conducted, and an international tribunal was convened.”

“What happened?”

“Ultimately, nothing. No substantial evidence could be produced. News sources cite considerable conflict and infighting among the members of the international consortium which further mired the investigation and prosecution. In the end, it resulted in little more than name calling. Wooton Outlands Exploration prevailed and eventually applied for and received an international patent for HLT. After the international consortium broke ties with Wooton Outlands Corporation, the company proceeded with its own colonization project.”

Matthew took another sip from the bottle. Wish this was something stronger. He examined the status hologram: 6.73 years remained until the Kūaka reached Boursaw 7. “Who in authority can I speak with to make arrangements for when we reach Boursaw 7?”

After a few moments of silence, the sim-voice said, “Your inquiries will be transmitted to the appropriate Boursawnian officials. Proceed.”

“What will be the procedure when we reach Boursaw 7?”

“Please clarify.”

“What will we need to do so we can land?”

“It is your wish to land on Boursaw 7?”

“Of course. That’s what our expedition is all about.”

“Requesting answer to your question. Will hail after answer received.”

“How long do you anticipate that will take?” Matthew asked.

“Unknown, as the matter will have to be addressed by the CEO and the Board of Directors. It may take several of your OES days.”

“CEO and Board of Directors. I thought you said Boursawnia was an independent political entity.”

“Radio transmission terminated,” said the ship’s sim-voice.

Matthew took another sip from his bottle. “Wake me when a hailing signal is received.” He unfastened the seatbelt and pushed himself through the bulkhead opening. His momentum carried him down the center of the cylindrical truss system holding the cocoons of his fellow colonists. It looks the same as the day we departed. At the rear bulkhead, he looked through an observation port at the ship’s engines and mechanicals. All in order. He did a half somersault and gently pushed away from the bulkhead with his feet.

He floated the length of the spaceship, mind racing. Grabbing the edge of his open cocoon to stop his momentum, he slid back inside. “Put me back in suspension until the Elgan hails us again,” he said. The lid closed.

* * *

“I can’t wait to plant a garden,” said Vera, “in fresh air – in real soil. Hydroponics are fine, but I want to work the soil with my own hands.”

“I’m going to build a house by a stream,” said Jeremy, “I’ve photographs of my great great great grandfather’s house. It was by a stream. It looks so beautiful.”

“Well, I suspect we’ll be busy enough for quite some time just establishing the New Hope base before we get around to planting gardens and building our dream homes,” said Ibrahim. “What say you, Matthew?”

Best not say anything about what has happened until all the facts are known. “Ibrahim has a point. There will be much to do before …”

* * *

 Electrical stimulation again pulsed through Matthew’s body, dissolving his conversation. He swallowed back the momentary nausea as his cocoon’s curved lid slid open.

“Hailing signal from the Elgan,” said the ship’s sim-voice.

Matthew took a sip from his bottle. “How long since the last transmission?”

“Seven days.”

Seven days. I wonder why so long. “Let me get to the cockpit, then open frequency.” He shoved off from his cocoon and was soon in the pilot’s seat. “Open frequency.”

“…Elgan. Please respond. Kūaka, this is the Elgan. Please respond.”

“We receive you Elgan. This is the Kūaka,” answered Matthew.

“Are we speaking with expedition leader, Matthew Ellis?”

“Yes. Were you able to get us an answer?”

“This is Marden Schnuck; I am the duly authorized representative of the CEO and Board of Directors of Boursawnia.”

 “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Schnuck. What information do you have for us?”

“The CEO and Board of Directors will allow members of your expedition to land on Boursawnia with certain conditions.”

“Wonderful. What are the conditions?”

“I believe some background explanation is needed before we address the conditions.”

“Okay.”

“Technology 457 OES years ago when they assessed Boursaw 7’s environment was primitive by current standards. In actuality, the environment on Boursaw 7 is quite harsh. Most of our planet is quite arid and hot, with average temperature of 325 Kelvin. Consequently, about 95% of the planet is classified as uninhabitable. Extensive mining operations are conducted in these areas. There are narrow bands of habitable land near the poles. All the mines as well as habitable land is owned and managed by Wooton Outlands Exploration.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“The CEO and Board of Directors will find employment for members of your expedition at various mining operations. They, of course, will be compensated in like manner with citizens of Boursawnia and have access to housing in the standard underground dormitories rented to mine employees.”

“What about the habitable lands. Is there room for us there?” asked Matthew.

“Positions in the habitable zones are made available by seniority.”

“I see.”

“There is another stipulation.”

“What’s that?”

“The expedition will have to surrender the five cargo vessels and all their contents, as well as the Kūaka, once vacated.”

“But that pretty much leaves us with nothing.”

“You will have employment and a place to live.”

“This is a lot to consider. How much time do we have before we must make a decision?

“The Kūaka will not reach Boursaw 7 for another 6.73 Old Earth Standard years. You have some time. But be aware that political circumstances are always subject to change and opportunities may not last indefinitely.”

“I understand but give me a little time, and I will let you know what the decision is.”

“Of course.”

“Radio transmission terminated,” said the ship’s sim-voice.

Matthew pushed out of the pilot’s seat, stopping at the opening. What am I to do? He looked down the rows of cocoons, then pushed forward ever so lightly, drifting down the long corridor. They are all here. Sharing their dreams, bursting with hope and expectation of a new life. How can I face them? He read the colonists’ names on the cocoons as he floated past. He knew them all. Do I risk going back in suspension? Will they perceive something is wrong? How do I tell them Boursaw 7 holds an existence little better than the one we fled? I can’t bear the burden of destroying their dreams. Yet, holding this secret within while being with them is equally overwhelming. Perhaps it would have been better if we truly had been lost, left to float forever within our dreams.

* * *

“Are all instructions logged and ready for implementation?” asked Matthew.

“Affirmative,” Kūaka’s sim-voice responded.

“Open hailing frequency to the Elgan.”

“Frequency opened.”

“Elgan, this is the Kūaka,” said Matthew. “Do you receive?”

“Kūaka, we receive you,” replied the Elgan’s sim-voice.

“I have come to a decision. Is Marden Schnuck there?”

There followed a moment of silence. “This is Marden Schnuck. Proceed.”

“There will be one to relocate to Boursawnia.”

“Who might that be?”

“Me,” whispered Matthew.

“And the rest?” inquired Schnuck.

“Kūaka’s course has been reprogrammed. They will continue to follow their dreams.”

Paul Stansbury is a lifelong native of Kentucky. He is the author of Inversion – Not Your Ordinary Stories; Inversion II – Creatures, Fairies, and Haints, Oh My!; Inversion III – The Lighter Shades of Greys; and Down By the Creek – Ripples and Reflections. His speculative fiction stories have appeared in a number of print anthologies as well as a variety of online publications. Now retired, he lives in Danville, Kentucky. www.paulstansbury.com