COMMANDER

Fifteen full seconds passed, so quietly a mouse fart would have loudly broken the spell the commander’s words had created. Lt. Jenkins was slack-jawed, open-mouthed, and wide-eyed. Lt. Timmons had the grace to at least keep his mouth closed, and even frown just a little in focused thought. I was simply out of my element. I had no reference for such a statement whatsoever. The Navy squids had obviously talked this through prior, and all held their composure quite well.

Jenkins, despite his appearance of befuddlement, was the first of us to recover.

“Ahhgh,” he cleared his throat in prelude, “does this mean you think we may have somehow . . . traveled in time?”

Hampstead’s eyes brightened and he licked his lips. Here was a man who might actually understand his premise! He immediately launched into an explanation with more hundred-credit words than I had heard since university. Some of them I recognized, like quarks, neutrinos, bosons, photon stringents, and a few others. But then he went on about temporal dimensionality, distortion folding, and . . .

The captain broke in to the long-winded explanation. By this time, even Jenkins’ eyes had glazed over.

“Mr. Hampstead . . . Mr. Hampstead!”

The officer ground to a halt and looked at the captain. “Yes, sir?”

“Perhaps we could let Mr. Dotes take over.” The captain looked at the three of us and continued, “I mean no offense, gentlemen, however, I believe Mr. Dotes may have a better grasp on how to provide a more understandable explanation using common terminology.”

Hampstead sat quietly, pouting.

“You mean ‘dumb it down’ a little, Captain?” I asked, then softened my remark with a smile. “We would appreciate it. I am sure we are all aware Navy bridge officer training requires a much deeper understanding of quantum mechanics than does the world of the Marine. No offense is taken, sir.”

The captain nodded and Dotes began to speak while Mr. Hampstead simpered, sucking at his lower lip.

“Here is the crux of it. Time dilation occurs when an object travels faster, approaching some factors of the speed of light, and the math all proves it. When the object achieves any significant percentage of c, time actually slows down for the object in relation to the rest of the universe. An object traveling fast enough might experience one minute while the rest of the universe experiences one hour, or one year, or maybe even a century. Bottom line, the faster one goes the more subjective time slows.”

Dotes examined our faces to see if there was any reaction. Then he continued.

“Of course, those are just examples, and based as relative to this space/time reality and c. Transition-jumping is completely different as it utilizes a pathway outside of our space/time and dimensional experience. Now that we have a fix on our current position in objective time, we can compute how fast we had to be moving to arrive here. Our subjective time, what we on the ship experienced, was very short compared to the real time the universe experienced.” He looked down at the tabletop for a moment then raised his head and said, “According to our AI and navcom star fixes, we are 804 years, two months, twelve days, and a handful of hours in the future . . . by our perceptions.”

We three Marines remained dumbstruck, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what had just been said. Then, a thought struck me.

“What about a Transition-jump, as you mentioned?” I asked. “Don’t we experience some of this time differential when jumping?”

“Yes,” Dotes replied, “but the jump itself is vastly different than traveling at fractional c, and its time from beginning to end is measured in nanoseconds according to our space/time perceptions . . . inconsequential to us. Basically, T-jumps move us from one point in space/time to another point in space/time through folded space, and at rather ordinary relative speeds. In terms of quantum mechanics, folded space and velocity time dilation are two very separate things. We do not know how they managed to intertwine in this case.”

“Oh!” squeaked Hampstead. “Just imagine how we have struggled, trying to compute fractional c relational as a function of . . .”

“Commander,” the captain interrupted him gently.

Hampstead’s eyes flew open wide, and he sucked in his lower lip again as he stopped speaking.

“Do we have any knowledge at all about what the physical effects of time dilation might be on human beings, or mammals, or other animals . . . anything like that?” Timmons asked.

“So far, no,” answered Dotes, “if it even was time dilation. This has never happened before in recorded history. According to theory, there should be no physical affects at all.”

“What about safety?” Jenkins asked. “Are there any detectable ships out there in-system? What about the planet itself? What kind of readings do we have from there?”

Lt. Cmdr. Ed Nording, the head of Naval Strategic Combat Operations for the Rontar, answered Harlan.

“We have seen no detectable or recognizable evidence of interplanetary or interstellar craft, nor have we detected any T-shift wave emanations around the second planet, Hanos, or in the Hylea system. We believe there is a fairly robust population on the planet based on the hydrocarbons in the atmosphere and faint EM emissions. In our current position, we are not detectable by any planetary or planet-orbital satellite sensors or optics as we are in shadow of the gas giant fourth planet. We will remain in shadow for ten days, subjective. By then, we should have a much better idea of, well, everything.

“There have been no subspace signals of any kind from Earth or from the Fleet. Our attempts to contact them have gone completely unanswered. We have been very careful with our transmissions, though. If the 800 year thing is accurate,” he said over a tiny, quiet snort from Hampstead, “who knows what capability the enemy may have now? They may well be able to track both subspace signals and Transition-jumps. We have sent only encrypted micro-second burst transmissions over subspace with identifiers and requests for response.”

“We must assume, therefore,” broke in Captain Lewellyn, “we are alone, we can expect no help, and we may well be surrounded by an enemy-dominated galaxy. We must proceed very slowly, and with great caution.”

There was a protracted silence in the boardroom as his words, and those of the engineers and the strategic officer, absorbed into our minds with all of the subsequent realizations.

“It is, what it is,” my dad used to tell me. “Right or wrong, good or bad, you need to take action on what it is, not what you want it to be, or what you expected it would be.” I wonder if he’d had any idea how many times his lesson would be the grounding rod for my sanity when he was teaching it. Many of those lessons had been about how to live our lives without my mother. She had died in a habitat failure on Mars, along with twenty-three other scientists, when a valve system failed on an airlock in their portable habitat. She and the others were conducting investigations and experiments in a deep Martian canyon at the time. I was six Earth years old. Dad had died ten years later in a shuttle crash. Life was tough on Mars but it taught me to deal with what was, not what might be, or could have been.

“I am still concerned about the possible effects of the dilation on our personnel,” I reiterated. “Perhaps we should have Dr. Annsbury here and in the loop?”

“Quite right, Commander Rawlings,” stated the captain. “The doctor is gathering test data as we speak, based on information provided to her earlier this morning. We have had two incidents with sailors. One attacked an officer, another attacked a barracks mate. All four personnel are in hospital under treatment or observation.”

“We had a similar incident . . .” I began to say.

“Yes, I heard,” the captain interrupted, a smugness perhaps only I could hear underlying his voice. “But, it seems your incident included a fatality.”

His voice dropped at the end of his statement, a thin but clear razor edge of disapproval in the way he enunciated.

“Yes, well . . . that is our specialty, Captain.”

“Quite,” he responded in agreement. To his credit, he stopped there and moved on. “We have provided the doctor what data we have and she is feeding it into her AI for processing. With any luck, we may have at least a theoretical model shortly. She felt it was more important to remain at her post than to participate here.”

The position of Ship’s Doctor was autonomous in terms of rank. Yes, she was part of the military establishment, but aboard ships of corvette class and up, the ship’s doctor was equal in rank to the ship’s captain and the top Marine aboard. None of those three could give orders to the others except under the most extreme and rare circumstances. They were considered equal, and were expected to work together for the benefit of everyone on board and the assigned missions. Having three ensured there would never be a tie in any voting situation.

“I appreciate the doctor’s dedication,” I responded. “However, to get back to the fatality incident mentioned, my staff has independently pulled vidcam recordings of the incident. They have created reports to file with the vids and have locked the files in our administrative archives, again, independently. I would like to have them forward a copy to you, Captain, for your archives also. Just in case something might happen to our copies, you understand. I will also forward a copy of my own report to you when it is finished. Would this be satisfactory?”

Lewellyn nodded. “SOP and BTB, Commander.”

“Very good,” I said in thanks to him, then turned to my staff. “Please make copies as discussed available to Rontar naval archives asap, gentlemen.”

“Now, to our reports for this briefing . . .”

We filled in the squids with our repair progress to date, then determined as a group any planetfall would be indefinitely postponed until we gathered enough intel to warrant better decisions. We needed to know who was living there on the second planet. Had humanity colonized it while we were stuck in the time differential? Had some other alien race colonized? Or, was the population a result of some native species?

“I have a question before we retire, please,” announced Gene Timmons. “If we traveled in time from, say, our year 3000 to our year 4000, we can assume 1,000 years passed by our perceptions. The question is this; did those thousand years actually pass in real, universe time while we were stuck in some quantum energy state or place outside normal space/time, or did only the usual fractions of seconds pass as in a normal T-jump?”

“We don’t know yet how any of it happened,” answered Hampstead, “but you see the proof right outside in the twisted asteroid field. This is a result of much time passage in our perception of space/time. To this perception of the universal space/time . . . or perhaps, this timeline . . . over eight hundred years have passed as compared to the point in space/time, or timeline, from whence we started. The physical facts are incontestable. To our perceptions, it was only the normal time span of any other T-jump. Exactly where-when we were during the eight hundred years is currently not understood. The mechanics of . . .”

“Commander,” interrupted Gene, “I get the part of the asteroid belt proof. We know an immense asteroid from deep space passed by the ecliptic at a twenty-four degree angle to the plane median about four hundred years ago, from this perspective. I guess what I am asking has more to do with our state of being during that time frame.”

“Primarily energy, we think,” stated Dotes. “We simply don’t know any more than this. Even the AIs are reduced to postulates and questions. In a normal T-jump our mass remains equivalent mass while dimensionalities are manipulated to cause the mass to move from one point to another. Sort of like standing in a river. Your leg remains still while the water flows around it but, it is still a leg. In this case, the water was still flowing but our mass was also moving within the flow. For that matter, we have even been stumped by the question of how we may have slowed down. You see, if we were traveling at fractional c, as indicated by time dilation, how did we slow down to get back to our current state?”

“We will just have to wait patiently while the science team continues their investigation,” I announced. “In the meantime, we all have plenty to do.”

“Quite!” agreed the captain.

The meeting ended and we all shook hands like gentlemen before departing.

Back in our own HQ office, I swallowed some pain tabs and changed into PT shorts and tee before meeting with the lieutenants again. As I changed, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The damage to my big, square face was somewhat less than the day before, with the caved in part on the right side beginning to fill out slightly as the nanos built bone and tissue. My teeth ached, my jaws and cheek ached, hell, everything ached. Well, okay, not quite everything. Still, between the tabs from the doctor and what the nanos were doing to mask pain receptors, the discomfort was manageable.

The bright, fresh scars on my chest showed beneath the straps of my pullover t-shirt, and my shoulder and arm tingled as the nerves renewed and relearned but the muscles still worked on demand. All in all, not bad. Despite the new pains of movement and healing, it could have been worse and I was still inside.

I grabbed more coffee before sitting with Jenkins and Timmons. It was nearly 1200.

“Well, here is our first opportunity to really talk to each other,” I told them. “We are now off the record and rank aside. Speak freely, please.”

“Are you asking for advice or questions or . . .?” Timmons began, hesitantly.

“Whatever is on your mind right now, Gene. I need to know where your heads are.”

“OK, that’s fair. To be honest, JD, I’m more than a little unnerved. Over 800 years of time dilation? I mean, holy hog spit! How the hell do you deal with that?” Timmons’ drawl deepened as he revealed his tension.

“What about you, Harlan?”

Jenkins was pensive, thoughtful. “Well, sir . . .” he began quietly.

“C’mon, Harlan! We are alone and have dropped rank. Just call me JD. I won’t bite, I promise.”

“JD . . . alright. Well, JD,” Harlan said as he raised his head to look me in the eyes, “like Gene, I am having trouble wrapping my mind around this. It feels like we are well and truly fucked. Our families, everyone we have ever known is long dead and gone. Gods Above!” He shook his head with wide eyes, then continued after a moment, “How about you?”

“Mmmm . . . I’ve been thinking about it a little. I guess I would say I am concerned, but for the troopers’ sake. I have it easier than most others, as I am an only child and both my parents died many years ago when I was young. I never even met most of whatever extended family there was. So, I need to remember most other troopers have lost entire, extended families they knew and loved. We are where we are, though, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it right now except learn about our new surroundings. Honestly, we don’t even know yet whether the time dilation has anything to do with the three attacks or not.”

“True,” admitted Gene. “It could have just been due to accumulated stress. We were hit pretty hard by the Shaquaree and the emergency T-jump.”

There was a short pause as we all rolled things over in our minds.

Gene broke the silence with, “What do we tell the troopers?”

“Nothing for now,” I answered him. “We don’t know enough yet to talk about it. All we’ll do is foster more questions we can’t answer and foment unrest. Let’s just keep them working hard on repair and refit until the science squids come up with something more.”

Harlan nodded. “Yeah, that seems best, at least for the moment. Eventually we’ll have to say something, though.”

“Let me worry about it. For now, pass the word we are currently in a good place within the system and we’re going to take advantage of the opportunity to gather raw materials and get ourselves fixed up.”

“I don’t agree with that action, JD,” Gene argued. “These are good, solid people, and I think they can handle whatever we throw at them if we provide the right leadership. I think they deserve to know the truth. Besides, you know the squids can’t keep a secret, and some of our people are friendly with some of theirs. Some version of the truth is bound to get out sometime soon.”

Crap. Gene was right.

“I can’t argue with you, Gene. Tell you what . . . let’s give it the rest of the day. I’ll speak to them tomorrow morning. How’s that?”

Both of them nodded in agreement.

“Alright. Conference over. Let’s get back to work, troopers. By the way, you will need to update the strategic plan based on the new information.”

“It would help our planning a lot if we knew who or what is living on the planet, Commander,” Timmons stated wryly.

“Do the best you can with what you have. Start with the assumption it is a human colony, then build alternate scenarios based on native sentience and alien colonization.”

I headed back upcountry to the hospital to speak with Doc Hazel. The Medical AI had crunched all the data available to it and had been positive in its analysis there would be little to no significant effects in the short term aside from some bothersome but manageable mood swings and potential aggressive behaviors. There was simply no way to know about any potential long-term effects with so little hard data.

I also asked her about the possibility of some sort of implant technology which might allow me to communicate with a small group of personnel without anyone else knowing about it. Her eyes squinted up a little at my request and she gave me an odd look.

’You wouldn’t be preparing for a mutiny or something, would you?” she asked.