Transmat World: Chapter 16, Episode 1
Trasmat headquarters, Wednesday, November 17, 2145 A.D.
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Enrique and Rousseau showed up at the Cave at 9:15 A.M., fifteen minutes late. Everybody’s eyes were on the Transmat booth, and Enrique managed a sheepish “good morning.” Everybody went back to work as the automated swarm lighting readjusted its focus away from the booth.
“Wow, talk about being in the spotlight — I never get that kind of attention from the lighting anymore,” said Vince extending his hand in welcome.
“Sorry I’m late. I got carried away with the training software.”
“It’s all right. Let’s head out. They’re waiting for us at the Kleopatra lab.” They headed for the S5.0 Class I booth.
Vince keyed in the address. A Transmat device no bigger than a walnut sampled the environment both inside and outside their destination booth, determined everything was fine, and allowed the transmission to take place a split second after Vince hit the last number. A two-dimensional warning flashed on all four walls: “EARS.”
The larger the booth, the more pronounced that differential air pressure sensation could be. They walked out of the booth with their mouths open, popping their ears. It had become a point of etiquette not to eat while using a Transmat booth.
Maria, Julie, Mark, Porfirio, Ernesto, and several others associated with the project were already there. They looked at Enrique and Vince briefly to say “hi” before looking back out the windows.
The laboratory nestled against a swell at the approximate center of gravity on the constricted mid-portion of the metallic asteroid 216 Kleopatra. It stretched over 125 miles with globular, sixty-mile-diameter mountain ranges attached to each end of a skinny, rough cylinder of ore conglomerate. Looking toward each end was like standing close to a tree and looking up a trunk made of rock. The other two directions offered foreshortened horizon lines. They gave the sense of walking a steep downhill slope forever. Large transparent aluminum windows dotted the labs circular walls, offering a choice of views. Mine buildings were evident several hundred yards down the rocky cylinder from the lab. These extracted titanium, nickel, platinum, and cobalt and sent it to Earth via Transmat.
Barely visible to the naked eye, after being shown where to look, were two moons hanging close to each other and about to set behind an end-lobe of the asteroid. Designated S/2008 (216) 1 and S/2008 (216) 2, their names had since been changed to Kibbles and Bits. They moved behind the bulbous end of 216 Kleopatra as everyone watched. The asteroid spun end for end at one rotation every five hours, so it was actually the asteroid catching up with and moving in front of the moons.
What drew everyone’s attention, however, was the 130-foot-diameter spiny ball lit by klieg lights at the end of a hundred-yard tunnel-boom attached to the lab. Seven thousand five hundred 150-feet-long, three-inches-diameter tubes sprang perpendicular from a thirty-feet-diameter hull; all carbon nanotube and titanium glass construction. The shiny black hull peeked out of a forest of matte black tubes tipped with mirror surfaces.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you mankind’s first starship,” said Vince. “What shall we call it?”
“Dangerous Squishy Ball,” said Enrique.
“Spiny Deathstar,” said Mark.
“Cocklebur of Destiny,” said Rousseau.
“Inquisitor,” said Porfirio.
“Pin Cushion of the Night,” said Maria.
“Kidney Stone Rex,” said Ernesto.
“Sfear with an ‘f,’” said Julie.
“Sharing a Chocolate Shake in Zero Gravity,” said Pattie, one of the laboratory attendants. That got some chuckles.
“Sorry, guess I’m hungry,” she added.
“No, that was excellent,” said Vince, “More.”
“Frightened Sphere,” said Furboten.
“Tubularium,” said Rousseau.
“Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow,” said Ookie, earning a look from his owner.
“See Lurchin’,” said Julie.
“You mean ‘Sea Urchin,’” said Enrique.
“No. It is a sound play on ‘sea urchin.’ It is S-e-e Lurchin’, because if you could see its flight path, it would look like it was lurching back and forth along its course due to the uncertainties still present in the cone of probable reappearance. But it also resembles a sea urchin, so it makes people go ‘Huh, I wonder if they know how to spell — ”
“I like it,” Vince said. “See Lurchin’ it is. What do you think, Enrique? Want to give it a spin?”
Julie stood with her hands on her hips swiveling back and forth with a smile on her nodding head as if it was her personal space ship since she named it.
“Let’s go take a look inside and see if it looks anything like the virtual console I’ve been playing all Tuesday,” said Enrique to no one in particular. Turning to Julie, “Come on, bobble-headed name-meister.”
He led them single file down the tunnel-boom, through the only bare spot on See Lurchin’s hull (the hatch), and into the ship, filling the center of three decks of see-through grating. The center deck held crew quarters and a kitchenette with Transmat faucets, drains, and a cuisine-dedicated Transmat with holographic, air-touch menu. A small bathroom sported a Transmat showerhead, drain, and commode. Storage lockers, an S5.0 Transmat booth, and several smaller booths were on the deck below along with computer server banks. The base of the crew chairs could be seen through the grate above. Enrique climbed the ladder and sat in the captain’s seat, placing his bag next to it. While everyone else was oohing and aahing over features and amenities, Vince took the opportunity to discuss the trial run.
“You know you’re going to have to put at least 5,000 klicks between you and the lab with thrusters before you make a jump,” said Vince.
“I understand the accidental displacement of a portion of the sun or a neutron star to the vicinity of the lab would make some people uncomfortable,” said Enrique.
“Just a puff of air over a hundred feet in diameter would pose a hazard to the lab. Most of this asteroid is a pile of rubble held together by frozen gasses, a little ice, and natural friction welds. The lab is sitting on a foundation of goo we squirted in the cracks and allowed to vacuum harden.”
“I read the statistics; I understand the odds. I’ve got a better chance of winning the lottery than accidentally appearing inside some star or planet. It’s not going to happen, Vince. Way unlikely.”
“You’re right. But we have to take every precaution.”
“I’ll wear a condom, put my seatbelt on, and go out 6,000 miles,” said Enrique.
Vince reached over and pressed a key on the console. Every smooth surface parallel to the spherical hull became a display screen showing a fully integrated view of the outside.
“Each defensive tube has a camera at the end along with the miniature Transmat,” Vince said. “Those cameras transmit to a two-dimensional organic light-emitting diode printed on the interior of the ship.”
