Isis asked, “What about the boomerang effect you wanted to work up for launching the traveler?”
“No time. I’m gonna have to pilot by the seat of my pants.”
“It’s going to be dangerous, Jeremy.”
“Uh-huh.” Jeremy swallowed hard. “I think my pants are going to be wet.”
“We’ll be together.” Isis gathered his head into her ample bosom.
“Yeah.” His voice was muffled.
“’Twere best done quickly,” Osmirik said.
Isis released Jeremy and sat at the terminal. “Go fire up the traveler,” she said. “I’ll do my cloning thing and be with you in a minute.”
Jeremy ran to the platform, jumped up the steps, and climbed through the vehicle’s hatch. Taking his place in the pilot’s seat, he quickly set up the Toshiba, letting it power up all the vehicle’s systems, including the main drive.
“All systems go, Jerry-baby,” the Toshiba said. “Course heading?”
“We’re not going anywhere, exactly. We’re going to take the craft out into the universal medium and fly around for a while.”
“Well, that’s innovative. Exactly how are we supposed to do that?”
“Don’t resolve your coordinate fix for a while. Let the vehicle sort of … float.”
“Oh, you mean, like, just hang out?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of.”
“Interesting. You know, this ‘interuniversal medium’ you’re talking about is mostly a mathematical abstraction. Sorry if this conversation is getting too polysyllabic for you, but you might want to think about the implications of ‘floating’ around in a metrical frame that won’t support your three-dimensionality too well.”
“I know it’s not the greatest of ideas, but we have to do it.”
“Well, listen, you’re the user, I’m just a piece of silicon. You ought to know what you’re doing, however harebrained and ill conceived and just plain
“Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence. Now, how about shutting the hell up.”
“Listen to him. Hey … who —?”
Jeremy felt warm breath on his neck. He turned his head to find Isis sitting in the copilot’s chair. She kissed him on the cheek.
“All ready, Jeremy.”
The computer asked, “Who’s the babe?”
“Shut up. Stand by for acceleration.”
“You with the long legs. Listen, honey. There’s room in RAM for one crewperson aboard this craft, so why don’t you —?”
“Obey orders!” Jeremy barked.
“Yes,
“Bring thrusters to launch frequency!”
“Frequency tuned.”
“Engage!”
“Thrusters engaged!”
The view of the lab through the viewport disappeared, replaced by an indeterminate blankness. Nothingness.
“Sure is scary out there,” Jeremy said.
“I’m so glad we’re together,” Isis said.
“You may be interested to know,” the Toshiba said, “that pressure on the hull is over one hundred pounds per square inch and rising.”
“Is that bad?”
“Well, it’s not good. The hull is made of very strong stuff, but it has its limits. If the pressure doesn’t stop increasing, we may be in for trouble.”
Jeremy said, “How can there be pressure on the hull if there’s nothing out there?”
“Got me. It might have something to do with quantum uncertainty. ‘Quantum uncertainty’ is good for explaining just about anything that doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, I don’t know what that stuff is all about. I flunked physics.”
“Look at it this way. This vehicle, which normally takes up space, is now occupying what is essentially a nonspace. There’s a certain tension in the basic situation. The medium that we’re in is going to be naturally resistant to the intrusion of bulky objects.”
“Okay. So, you’re saying what, exactly?”
“We can’t stay here for very long before we get … well, sort of
“Squeezed, huh?”
“Yeah. Compressed. Reduced. Squashed flatter than a tortilla.”
“Don’t mention food. Tortillas. Jeez, I could go for a burrito right about now.”
“Food, he wants. Listen, I’m talking about getting turned into a spacetime enchilada. I’m talking Taco Jeremito here.
Jeremy nodded. “Got it. But we gotta stay here long enough to get a good reading on the energy state and a few other variables.”
“Oh, by all means. But let’s not stay a second over that, okay?”
“You don’t have to convince me. Isis, how long do you think it will take?”
“Data coming in now,” Isis said. “I estimate we need another two point oh niner minutes.”
“Hell,” Jeremy said, “is that all? We’ll be outta here in no time. Computer, set course back to base and stand by to apply reverse thrust.”
“Hull pressure is over a thousand pounds per square inch,” the Toshiba said. “And rising.”
“What’s the safety load rating of the hull?”
“Have no idea. That information wasn’t in the vehicle’s data base.”
“We can hold out for a while longer. The stuff the hull’s made out of is superhard.”
“Hard, maybe. But not deformable? There’s a difference.”
“It’ll hold up.”
“I hope that’s true for your sake. I say again, I’m only made of silicon. I wouldn’t notice a change in volume as much as you would.”
“More data coming in,” Isis reported. “Ninety-six seconds to cutoff.”
“We just sit tight,” Jeremy said, “and sweat it out.”
“Fifty-four hundred psi.”
“Isis, maybe we could cut it off a little early?”
“The data is coming as fast as possible, Jeremy,” Isis said. “We need all we can get for an effective spell.”
“Right.” Jeremy peered out into the nothingness. It was not black, not gray, not any color. There was a random shifting quality to it. Jeremy thought of being trapped inside the screen of a TV that was tuned to a blank channel, only it wasn’t that bright. It was just murk out there, formless and void.
A nervous half-minute went by.
“Computer, is the hull pressure still rising?”
“Not as fast, but it’s still going up.”
“Good. Maybe it’ll level out.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
The craft lurched violently, then was still again.
Jeremy had clutched the arms of his seat. “Whoa, what was that?”
“Don’t quite know,” the Toshiba said. “We’ve run into some kind of turbulence.”
“Turbulence? What could it be? I mean, there’s nothing out there to get all riled up.”
“It could be the pressure of bending space at the boundaries of the nonspace.”
“I don’t understand that, but I don’t like the sound of it.”
“In another few seconds, we’ll either be mashed into atoms or …”
