Make IT Real!, Sander R.B.E. Beals [uplifting novels .TXT] 📗
- Author: Sander R.B.E. Beals
Book online «Make IT Real!, Sander R.B.E. Beals [uplifting novels .TXT] 📗». Author Sander R.B.E. Beals
Next I cringe, as Selina pushes the perfectly chilled apple against the back of my neck. I swivel my seat around, and make a grab for the little tease. Good thing we have an autopilot, because you definitely don't want to do this if you're really in the driver's seat. She avoids capture by shoving the apple against my teeth, figuring that once I taste it, she will no longer be on the most wanted list. And she's right, that apple is truly delicious!
Together we munch away, each in our own seat. We're about three days into our trip, and making good time. No anomalies that we know of, it's going to be an uneventful ride. “How are your grapes?”, I ask my lady. She doesn't answer, but feeds herself another one, as seductively as possible. She always did know how to get to me....
And secretly I love that about her: we don't really get involved quite as often as there is a reason to, but the little jolts keep everything light and lively, just the way we want it. That very moment, the directional scanners beep a low intensity warning. I check what's out there, and find an area that's devoid of stars. Thinking it might be a black hole, I engage the inertial detectors, and find that its gravitational pull has significantly altered our course. “Is it bad?”, Selina wants to know. “Not sure yet, stay tuned”, I tell her. I ask Haley, our on board computer why she hasn't noticed that the black hole altered her planned course. Politely, she explains that the system has a fail-safe against detection of so-called ghost masses: inertial detectors are double-checked against visuals, which use various kinds of waves to bounce them off unknown objects. Since the black hole absorbed them all, it was seen as a ghost mass, an anomalous detection from the inertial detectors.
I ask Haley to accept the mass as a real phenomenon, and request a recalculation of our original plan. She hums a tune as she complies, but abruptly ceases it the moment she becomes aware of the result. “I'm sorry Dave, uhmm Sander, but there seems to be a slight problem...”, Haley says hesitantly, as if she is afraid I'll shoot the messenger. “Not your fault dear, just let me have it.”, I encourage her.
“Based on the new gravimetric input, I can only plot us a course into the mass, but no longer away from it. It seems we have passed the event horizon, and will have to enter this phenomenon”. For an agonizing four seconds, it is completely quiet in the control room. Selina is the first to break it: “Oops, I guess you hadn't counted on that, had you dear?”. I think, to lay bare any odd options I hadn't realized yet. Surely we can still see other stars, so why can't we reach them? Also, computers are only as good as their inputs, as we just saw. “Plot me a course straight away from the object, maximum speed, and engage. Call off the distance we have to it”, I instruct Haley. She complies, and we hear the displacement generators howling as they give it all. Nevertheless, Haley's voice calls off an ever diminishing sequence of numbers. “No good”, Selina interrupts me: “Let's just dive in and see what happens”. We stand together in between the two pilot's seats, and I've literally got her back: Standing behind her with my belly against Selina's back, nothing could threaten her from behind without having to go through me first. In close proximity to one another, we watch as I tell Haley to give up the escape attempt, and to let the ship drift into the approaching mass.
The dark disc grows and grows, shielding galaxy after galaxy from our view. Expecting to be crushed by the immense gravity we assume is there, Selina and I exchange one last very intimate kiss, while hugging one another like it should never end. Haley draws our attention however, by stating that impact is imminent in “three, two, one....”
Quite the anticlimax: instead of being crushed to bits, we suddenly have stars again, and quite beautiful ones at that! “Haley, please cross-reference, and get me a fix on our position”, I tell her. It stays quiet, for too darn long... “I, I cannot compute this, I do not recognize these constellations.”, is Haley's hesitant reply. “What can you tell me about them?”, I continue, curious as I am. Haley knows quite a bit, based on information she's never before seen: “We are at the edge of a spherical space, roughly seven hundred seventy seven light years across. Distribution of stars here is somewhat denser than in our space, but other than that it's quite similar” It looks like this black hole wasn't massive after all, but formed just like the world out there. I ask Haley for a complete systems check, and prognosis of our energy reserves. Since she'll be busy with that for quite a while, and Selina needs some rest from all the excitement, I decide to delve into my book, which I've still not been able to finish....
'Time's Up!'
“Dad, do you realize that in about two days, we should be ready to commence school again?”, Valerie remarks. And she's got me on that, I hadn't realized! I thank her for the info, and go to find Kayim to figure out a way out of this. “Easy enough”, the Inner Earthling reassures me: “I'll just take you to LeeYoh again, and he'll fly you home in the dead of night. Nobody will be the wiser!” Since we then seem to have plenty of time to do it right, I suggest to him we fly by his parents first, to wrap up some loose ends I perceive. I figure if they can tap into the Web, then the telephone network will be a piece of cake, and I want to make it so we won't be unduly missed. Kayim agrees, and after breakfast we hop onto the floater and zoom home.
Mayra and Sinan are outside to welcome us home, and accompany us up to the living room. Kayim has already informed them of my request, and Sinan hands me a phone-like device. I ask him if I'm just supposed to dial the completely specified phone number, and he nods. Luckily I'd kept the business card of the hotel manager, which he gave me when we checked in, so at least the number is easy to find. It takes about fifteen minutes to assure the man we are alright, but have just been forced by circumstances to cut our trip short. I ask him to round up our belongings, and send our baggage to my home address. Fortunately he is so happy that his esteemed guests are unharmed, that he volunteers to pay for the shipping cost. We say our goodbyes, and part ways.
Next is the farewell of Sinan and Mayra. Warm hugs are exchanged, and Sinan can't help but offer me that fabulous razor of his, so shaving will only be a monthly chore from now on. Then, I figure we ought to come into Holland officially, so they'll know we're here, and not suspect a thing. Kayim tells the ladies to go swimming for the afternoon, and ushers me into one of the workshop rooms....
That night, we board Leeyoh's saucer right next to the residence of Sinan, Mayra and Kayim. Travel is swift, and Leeyoh has us hovering cloaked over Cairo International Airport in less than an hour. He scans the departure building, and locates a suitable spot for us to materialize. Four stalls, three in the ladies washroom, and one in the men's are perfect. They are employee toilets, so far less crowded. We get together right outside, and peer through the slit of the door to figure out when to enter into the customs hall. Carrying our mock cases, we blend in.
On the way to customs, we are stopped dead in our tracks by a guy in a black suit: a typical MIB, down to the ear piece, and the dark, high-tech sunglasses. ”I know where you've been”, he whispers to me in a low voice. I play the harmless fool, and tell him: “Yes? On vacation!” It doesn't help. He does indeed know that we've surfaced from within, and urges us to keep absolutely quiet about our adventures. I guess this is part of the governments approach, to keep the people in the dark about certain aspects of reality. The guy then asks for our papers. Meekly I present him with the stuff, but not the real ones. This set is one Kayim has prepared for us, knowing we'd face trouble on the way up. The agent studies the documents, finding nothing wrong with them. He photographs the relevant pages, and hands them back to me. “If you don't keep quiet, we'll know where to find you”, he says. Finally, he turns to Jane: “Young lady, may I hold your camera for a few seconds?” She hands it to him, looking uncertain of what he will do. Mr. MIB studies it for a brief moment, flips open the small lid, and takes out the memory card. “Hey, are you going to pay me for that? After all, it is a four Gigabyte card, they don't come cheap you know!” He looks at me, an evil grin on his face like the agent from the Matrix: “Too bad, better luck next time”. He hands Jane the Cybershot, and walks off into the chaos of travelers in the departure hall.
“Boy, is he gonna be pissed later!” Jane grins at me. I look at her in amazement. She opens her purse, and holds up the four gigabyte memory card. “In the saucer, crossing half the world, it was full. So to document the last leg of our trip, I exchanged it for the card from Val's MP3 player”. “Then we're lucky he didn't notice that it wasn't what I said it was”, I comment. “Nope, just lucky they weren't labeled”, Valerie grins. I still can't get used to the endless stream of synchronicities that seems to have entered our lives from the moment we went below. I can't believe it, but at least I can be grateful for it....
Having left Gina in the lounge of the airport, because she is getting another flight home, the girls and I board the KLM plane named after the spouse of our crown prince: “Maxima”. Providence (or Kayim's mastery) has made sure that this time we are seated next to one another, with Jane at the window, and me at the aisle. Valerie gets the seat in between. Amidst all the hustle and bustle of people looking for their designated seats, Valerie punches me on the shoulder: “Dad, I just saw a familiar face!” She points him out to me: standing in the aisle, back to the cockpit door, I see Tom. He looks handsome in his pilot's uniform. That moment, our eyes meet, and he immediately walks towards us. No doubt, he remembered the pretty faces of my daughters. Still, he greets me first. “You, in that uniform? Seems a long way from your usual work” I greet him. “This is my 'usual work'”, he replies. “Taxi driving is just something I do to help out a friend on my days off”. He assures us that he'll get us home safely, even
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