← Spaceship Earth: Table of Contents

Chapter 2: Go Time

LOG: 2125, June 10 I am standing on a massive field on my ship. Did I tell you that I have renamed it? My ship is now called Gaia. In Greek mythology, Gaia is the literal personification of Earth; it seemed a fitting name. There are a lot of people in front of me. A lot of them. It’s an incredible sight to behold, all these people here, in space, working together.

“Hello, everyone!” I roar, looking down at the sea of faces that are standing in front of me.

The babbling noise that had continuously been growing stronger stops abruptly. They all turn their attention to me. That is such a weird feeling, like I’m the conductor of a human symphony.

“How’s it going?” I ask everyone. “All good, I hope?”

A couple of faces in the crowd nod their heads in agreement. There is a general murmur on the field. Most people look pretty happy.

“Thank you all for being here and being part of this very special journey,” I continue, surveying the crowd. “I hope you are as excited as I am. We are on our way to making history.”

I turn to the side and see a small child standing. She is nine years old, with a pale complexion and dirty blonde hair. There is a mischievous smile on her face, and I wonder why she is smiling.

“This child.” I gesture her to come closer to me.

She runs across the stage, smiling and waving at the crowd, acting as if she is a celebrity. Wow, she really is a ham. Children these days are beyond outgoing. I fix my attention back toward the crowd and continue.

“Meet Bailey Morningstar. She is the next generation who, along with the rest of the children and their children after them, will help guide us into the infinite. Bailey will ignite the engines, which will burn bright now and forever. Bailey, when you are ready, let’s send Gaia on her way.”

Bailey stands front and center in front of everyone. In the distance, you can see the massive engines outside of the ship. Long and cylindrical, made with various alloys. There is a hush over the crowd. All eyes are on Bailey as she pulls out a strange looking lighter from her pocket. The lighter is my special gift to her. It is rectangular with different buttons for different types of flames. There are red, purple, blue, and orange, and they all serve a different purpose.

The red burns through steel, whereas the purple creates ice. Bailey uses the blue one, the warmest flame, and a small blue glow emits out of the end of the lighter. She holds it up, as high as her little arm can reach, and, in unison, the engines outside of the ship ignite. Everyone braces as Gaia jumps to life, and just like that, the journey begins.

The crowd, after a pregnant pause, wondering if it will work, erupts in cheer! There is deafening applause all over the ground. I am ecstatic. Years and decades of planning are taking off. I have managed to make it possible, not single-handedly, though. I also have this strange sensation pounding inside my chest. I know what that is. It is pride. I feel like my chest will burst open with it. Before you jump to any conclusion and decide that I am more self-centered than I already am, let me correct you. This pride is for Bailey. You see, she is my protégé.

She is the one who will replace me when I am gone. She is eager, smart, and scored off the charts in her testing. The crowd busies itself and heads back to work, but a few people come forward to meet me. I go to greet Bailey’s family. Her mother, Brook, is a complete copy of Bailey. She has the same shade of hair as Bailey and the same blue eyes, whereas her father, Tyson, is a taller gentleman, about six feet, two inches tall. He has black hair and hazel eyes. However, he has the same smile that I spotted on Bailey’s face just minutes earlier.

“Mr. Gunslinger, how are you?” Bailey’s father says.

He has a loud booming voice. Some of the people standing nearby turn to look around in alarm.

“I’ll be better if you start calling me Simon.” I smile, extending my hand to shake his hand.

He has a nice, firm grip.

“It was a proud moment for us, to see little Bailey ignite the engine,” Mrs. Morningstar says. “Thank you again for selecting us for this mission.”

I tell her, “The Morningstars are an important part of human history, and clearly, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Having a Nobel prize-winning journalist on board was and is an important part of this journey. “Are you folks settling in okay?” I direct the question to Mrs. Morningstar.

“So far, so good. I think once I get my office up and running, I will start to feel a bit more at home.”“And you, Mr. Morningstar? The first entertainment studio in space, how’s that coming along?”

“Working out the kinks, but this is an incredible idea,” he replies.

“People need an escape, and making fresh content will definitely give people a sense of normalcy,” I say with a smile. “I’m glad your family is here.”

Bailey is fortunate to have a set of two extraordinary parents. It is clear where she gets her intelligence from. She, like her parents, is creative and extraordinary . . . with just a touch of eccentricity, kinda like me.

Bailey also has an elder brother, Fynnegan. He is twelve years old, with a very active imagination. Just the other day, when she and I were conversing about a potential new planet, he hijacked the conversation and talked about how he would like to go beyond the sun. He was certain of the fact that there are aliens who are just waiting to be contacted by us.

The thought of this idea was funny to me, but the more he described it, the more I realized I might have overlooked something in my planning. The big what-if factor; what if we aren’t alone. I would be foolish to think that in the vast infinite, we are the only intelligent beings. Fynnegan had a very vivid imagination, but maybe he was onto something.

I ask him if he wants a job, but he is a bit hesitant. “Sure, Mr. Gunslinger—well, I mean, depends what it is.”

This Mr. Gunslinger thing is starting to make me feel old. “The first job, call me Simon. Second job, I can get you a position with our communications team. You can start your search for E.T.”

His eyes light up. “Heck ya, that’d be incredible!”

“Mr. Gunslinger, may I have a word?” says a voice.

“Marine will be in touch, Fynn. Thanks again for being a part of this, Morningstar family. You are an incredible bunch of people.”

I excuse myself and walk with the man. He is quite a bit taller than me by more than a couple of inches. He has on a pressed uniform, complete with a tie. He walks upright, strong in stature, very intimidating. I notice he is not going out of his way to blend in with his surroundings. He and I choose to go to a small corner, away from the prying eyes of the crowd, and start whispering in hushed voices. I am painfully aware that everyone is probably watching me. I try not to be too conspicuous, but it’s me, and someone or the other is always watching, so what can you expect?

Douglas comes up to me as we are wrapping up the conversation, a somber expression on his face. Douglas is very good at his job, but sometimes a guy needs privacy.

“What are you doing?”

“Talking.”

“Who was that?”

“No one important.”

“Everyone on this ship is important.”

Touché. I know I am doing a lousy job of being evasive. Douglas certainly thinks so. He knows I am lying but is kind enough to let it go, for now.

Milton and Irving make their way toward the Zero Point Energy Lab. They are planning to continue their work on the Z.P.E. distribution system.

“Newton’s third law of motion even applies in this situation. It’s just a different means to the same end,” Irving says as they reach the entrance.

“No… Hey, who are you?!”

Milton notices a young girl. She is dirty and has smudge marks on her face. Her clothes are filthy, and her shoes are covered with mud.

“My job.” She smirks and exits the lab.

Milton and Irving share a look and hurry toward the Z.P.E. machine. They are fearful of what they may find.

“Who was the last one on shift?” demands Milton.

“Me, but I know I locked the lab,” Irving replies. He shows Milton the log for the Z.P.E. room, and it confirms what he said.

The pair of them inspect the Z.P.E..

“It looks intact. Run a diagnostic,” Irving says.

“We need to alert Simon,” Milton replies.

“What was that kid doing?” Irving is a bit uneasy with this situation. He knows everyone who is involved with his lab.

“Everything seems to be in order,” states Milton, as he inspects the machine from behind.

Irving does not seem too happy with the prospect, yet he reluctantly agrees. Milton activates the neural network.

“Simon, you’re needed in the Z.P.E. lab. There was an incident.”

I get up from my desk and straighten my shirt. I hot-step it to the lab, my footsteps echoing on the cold linoleum floor. What could possibly be so urgent that he couldn’t tell me over the net?

“What is it?” I holler as I enter the lab.

I listen as Milton and Irving fill me in. I am sure my face is betraying what I am feeling inside. Thank God there is no mirror in front of me right now. However, judging from the expressions of Milton and Irving’s faces, I know they can understand how I am feeling.

On the inside, I am panicking. Who was this child who got past such heavy security measures? She has, in a word, broken into the system. I cannot wrap my mind around this because now she has threatened the entire project. After hearing that nothing is damaged, my panic is slowly transforming into anger.

“We have to get to the bottom of this,” I snap.

The three of us make our way to the security room. Milton and Irving have no idea where they are going; they didn’t know this part of the ship existed. On any schematic, it is an empty storage area. It is located in the dungeons of the ship. I had it deliberately built there, far out of prying eyes. I place my thumb on the pad, and it scans my thumbprint. Another window opens. A laser beam shoots out to confirm my fingerprint.

“Name, please?” echoes a voice.

“Simon Gunslinger,” I say, loudly and clearly.

“Confirmed,” replies the voice.

The metal doors disappear completely. One second it is there, and the next, it vanishes into thin air. Despite the circumstances, I manage to smile. How far technology has come continues to amaze me. We enter a control room that is illuminated by the dozens of monitors surrounding a central desk. This is the security matrix. From here Jerel can see and interact with all digital aspects of Gaia. Jerel Jones is at his desk, surveying various monitors. For those of you who do not know, this is the same guy Douglas saw me talking to earlier today.

“Folks, this is my head of security, Jerel Jones. Jerel, officially meet Irving and Milton. We have a problem.”

There is still the same somber expression on Jerel’s face that I had seen earlier. Jerel is wound tight; one of my life goals is to make him laugh, but not now. This is neither the time nor place, Simon Gunslinger, I tell myself.

“There has been a break-in in the Z.P.E. lab,” I begin.

“It happened around 3:30 a.m..” continues Milton. “It was a kid. She looked like a teenager.”

“Okay, let me pull up the footage. We can review it.”

Irving leans over to me. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

I tell him, “We needed security. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t want to raise a panic with the crew and their families, knowing they were being watched.”

I can tell Irving isn’t happy with that answer, but it’s the truth. However, we have more pressing issues right now.

I ask Jerel why he wasn’t alerted, and he tells me he is only alerted to physical and digital break-ins, according to him, “Neither of which occurred.”

Jerel finds the footage and begins to play it. The video plays out in front of us, in thin air.

“There!” says Jerel.

The engineer is on the screen, but then I notice something. The engineer is moving a certain way. It is almost as if she knows that she is being watched. So, she avoids the camera. Skillfully, I should add.

“Looking for someone?”

We all turn around. It is the engineer! She is standing there, smiling. It is as if she knows she has managed to outsmart us all.

“Do you know what would have happened if you hadn’t adjusted the quantum harmonic oscillator? The Zero Point Energy drive would have killed all the people on this ship, possibly the solar system? Who knows? Quantum mechanics, am I right?”

Jerel grabs her, and the three of us march back to the lab. Douglas looks at the diagnostic that has finally finished running.

“She did it…finished the distribution system.” A look of amazement washes over his face.

I look at her. She looks right back, defiantly, and I suddenly get angry.

“How’d she get on board?” I say to Jerel.

“Who are you??” asks Irving.

“My name is Harleen . . .” says the young Indian girl.

“How did you get on this ship?” Jerel asks with a stern voice.

“Well,” she says, “maybe your security wasn’t that tight?”

“So a stowaway,” jumps in Milton.

“I’m going to take her into custody,” says Jerel.

The problem is, despite having so many brilliant people on board, I did not anticipate such a dictation right away. I always thought that if I have such a smart team of people, I wouldn’t have to have a prison or holding cell. I figured we could work through problems and conflicts through diplomacy, conversation, and communication. I never thought about a stowaway, though, an unknown variable. Oh Lord, I groan inwardly. This will be so bad if news gets out.

“No one must know about this incident,” I tell Jerel. “It could create safety issues amongst the crew.”

“The question remains,” says Milton, “where do we keep her?”

Fortunately, Marine comes to our rescue. She has a fascinating piece of information. One that just potentially saved us, I might add.

She has a makeshift prison, of sorts. It is located just below us, in a room built in secrecy even from me.

“How?”

I am speechless. I have never been speechless.

“It was included in the first phase of building Gaia,” she replies.

“Why was I never informed of this?”

“I didn’t think we would need it this soon, so I never mentioned it,” Marine says with an upset look on her face.

My mind starts to wander. We can’t keep her locked away forever. How long is this punishment supposed to be?

“Let’s go,” I say.

As we move along, I get curious. You know me, I am always looking for answers. It’s how the ship came to be, and this journey that we are currently on began. Always ask questions, folks. They open doors.

“Your parents must be worried sick, you know,” I tell her.

She looks at me. “I’m sure if I had some, they would be.”

This gets my attention. “I’m sorry,” I say, my heart sinking a bit.

People always say that I have a soft side, although I do not show it frequently. My mind once again begins to race. I swear, sometimes I think it is on a journey of its own, hurrying to get somewhere. This kid has been dealt a lousy hand, clearly. Maybe she is searching to be a part of something, a family, or to escape something? If she wanted to harm us, she very easily could have.

“Hold up,” I call out, and everyone stops in their tracks.

“We’re not going to punish her,” I announce.

“We’re not?” Jerel looks disappointed as he finally got a taste of some action.

“No, we’re going to give her a job instead.”

“I agree with Simon.” Milton is completely on board with this idea.

“Me too,” Irving agrees as well.

I am so glad Milton and Irving are on board. It would have been a nightmare trying to convince them otherwise.

“Harleen, congratulations, you have a job. Clearly, you know what you’re doing. Until we find out more about you, you will report to Irving. Marine will show you to your quarters and get you situated.”

Harleen is grinning from ear to ear. She looks ecstatic. Irving, on the other hand, does not seem too happy about this prospect.

“There is one condition, however,” states Irving, his voice firm. Harleen sobers up. “You cannot go around breaking into stuff. You may be part of this ship, but you aren’t a part of this crew. You won’t get a second chance.”

I am glad Irving said this and not me; I’m not too keen on threats.

Harleen nods, looking happier than before.

“I am going to be keeping a close eye on you,” Jerel says, jumping into the conversation.

“Relax, tough guy.” She smiles.

I even manage to smile at her busting Jerel’s butt.

Harleen is jumping up and down with joy now. I feel a euphoria engulf me, like starting the mission anew.

“Come along this way to your quarters.” Marine escorts her.

As everyone goes about their business, I ask Jerel to wait up a second.

“Do what you can, and find out everything about her. She seems nice enough and definitely smart enough, but she wasn’t part of the one thousand. At least, until we know that we can trust her…» “Don’t worry, Simon, I’m on it,” Jerel says with confidence as he walks back to his security room.

I take a moment and think about something that really shouldn’t matter, but as for Marine and Harleen, that’s going to get annoying. Rhyming names, blah. I watch them off in the distance head toward the new quarters that are being constructed on the port side of the ship. As Harleen walks, there is a spring in her step. She looks as if she finally belongs to something. I never had a family of my own, but more and more, this crew, these people that have trusted me with their lives, the lives of their families, are beginning to feel to me what I think family is supposed to be. It’s a pretty good feeling.

---