THRUST - Alan Dean Foster

THRUST - Alan Dean Foster
[From The Metrognome and Other Stories]

DAY 001 - 22:32

  Boyd Cottle, Commander. Still sounds funny. Everyone on board is at least as nervous as I am, which is plenty. That is only to be expected. As everyone is also far too busy to allow nerves to affect heir performance, I am not worried.
  Dr. Sese Oyo has refused to administer tranquilizers to those in need of a relaxant. I concurred with her decision. This point in our journey is not time for anyone to be functioning at less than maximum efficiency. I have assigned additional work instead, believing that to be more effective in calming postignition jitters than a casual dose of coraphine.
  All ship's functions are operating within 99.8 percent of prescribes parameters. Of course, the /Secondjump/ pretty much runs herself. I can't escape the feeling that we're more passengers than crew.
  By the way, Eva Østersund and I traced the two-tenths error to a minor malfunction possibly/pronbably located within solid waste recycling. Though far from posing an immediate problem, its existence offended Moutiers's professional pride. He's hard at work correcting the problem. Dr. Oyo is helping as best she can without neglecting her own job, which is primarily to keep a wary eye on us first deep-space travelers.
  We're all disgustingly healthy, she insists. Hardly surprising, since physical fitness was as important a criterion in our selection as any mental abilities.
  Only sixteen years, four months, two days ± to Barnard's Star. That's barring the successful utilization of the Molenon Multiplier. None of us expects anything to come of that. We don't see how the installation on an alien device, however efficiently modified for human use, can help us. Especially when the experts don't profess to understand fully how it functions.
  I realize that the Multiplier is somehow supposed to react to mental output and translate that into space-time distortion leaps along our line of flight. I'll stick with the photon engines, thank you. Slow but steady wins the race.
  On Day Twelve out Sese Oyo is supposed to lead us in our first "session." No one here is looking forward to what we all consider essentially a waste of time, but orders are orders. The thought of six highly trained scientists squatting around muttering "om" while thinking positive thoughts about Barnard's Star strikes most of us as more than marginally ludicrous. I am willing to concede that such meditative sessions might have benificial relaxing effects, however. That's the only reason I finally agreed to go along with this.
  As nominal commander and chief programmer of mankind's first attempt to reach the stars, I'd like to register another formal objection, though.

DAY 003 - 14:32

  Smooth as vacuum so far. Moutiers found and corrected the problem with the solid waste recycler. Presently he's fiddling happily with his hydroponics. He figures he has thirty-two years in which to create a better cantaloupe.
  Kim Rahman purrs over her precious engines, which purr back at her. Our resident stargazer, Paul Usakos, can't wait until we leave the solar system. We all feel the same way. Morale is good. Astrogator Østersund found a minute deviation in our course, which is not unexpected this early in the flight. She and Rahman will collaborate on correction.
  Thank the city of Barsoom for the city lights' message. Yes, we are "Go", assure them, with all our thanks.

DAY 007 - 11:43

  Accomplished Uranus passby and beamed them records and messages. Our last close contact with civilization. Now we're truly outward bound. The rings have an ethereal beauty no photo can properly convey. Østersund and I have seen them before, but it was a new sight for the rest of the crew. They spent hours at the ports, ooing and ahing. They had time for sight-seeing. We all have time.
  The /Secondjump/ is preforming above all expectations.

DAY 012 - 21:58

  We just concluded our initial session under Dr. Oyo's guidance. Feeling no less idiotic than I expected to, I returned to work while trying to avoid the immediate gazes of my fellow crew members. The overall reaction seemed to be one of embarassment. Dr. Oyo says that repitition will cure this, but I'm not so sure. Only she and Jean-Jacques Moutiers appeared to enter into the spirit of the thing. Moutiers is a bit of a flake, anyway. A wizard with life-support systemology, but at heart he's a clown. It should be interesting to see what kind of better melon he can come up with.
  Oh, by the way, the Molenon Multiplier works. I can hear the screams of pleasure from Tycho from out here. Go ahead and enjoy yourselves for a minute, folks.
  Østersund informs me, and I've separately confirmed, that our speed has increased by a factor of ... well, check the readouts we're beaming back to you. What it means is that this wonderfully complex, altered alien gizmo you've had us truck all the way past Pluto will get us to Barnard's Star exactly two hours, four minutes earlier than predicted.
  So much for the much ballyhooed "gift of the aliens," as the news media have been calling it. All that research and money and time to gain two lousy hours over sixteen years! I've half a mind to cut the monstrosity loose and chuck it out the rear lock. Might do it, too, if it wasn't so closely interstructured with the rest of the ship's systems.
  Dr. Oyo insists we can do much better at our sessions. Sure we can.
  Belated birthday greetings from Kim Rahman to her father down at Kuala Lumpur. By the time this message reaches him he'll be... older. Received birthday wishes from Mr. and Mrs. Usakos for Paul. He returns the greeting and says for his dad to tell everyone on his old rugby team that he won't be back in time for the playoffs but that he'll be back to coach their kids.

DAY 019 - 08:27

  Dr. Oyo says that our growing boredom is to be expected. She maintains that it's a stage that will pass as we settle more fully into in-flight routine and grow completely accustomed to the fact that we're utterly cut off from additional human contact for thirty-two years. I wish I was as certain. Actually, I have to confess that I'm, a bit worried. All the work and games that are available, in addition to whatever we can invent, seem inadequate to relieve the present disenchantment. I am hoping this will pass, as Dr. Oyo claims.
  Oh, there've been no outward signs of discontent. We're all too mentally stable for that, too well balanced. But I can tell when someone is enjoying themself and when they're just going through the motions.
  Even Kim Rahman's jewelry and sculpture are suffering. Paul is trying to help inspire her. His first flush of excitment at being able to observe the entire solar system has already faded.
  Another session today. Dr. Oyo sounded pleased. Østersund discovered another slight jump in our position. We'll now arrive at our destination three days, six hours ahead of schedule. I'm not impressed, although Sese (pardon me, Dr. Oyo) is excited.
  I personally think we're doing the best we can. If the Multiplier can't do better than shave three days off a sixteen-year trip, I personally don't hold much hope for its future benefits re interstellar travel.

DAY 033 - 06:44

  It appears we have to devote more and more time to simply staying sane. As ever, the /Secondjump/ runs like a fine timepiece. All systems are performing flawlessly. Mankind can be proud of this ship.
  Whether they'll be able to be as proud of us is presently open to question. I'm still not seriously concerned, but I am troubled by unpleasant prospects. Dr. Oyo and I had a private session yesterday. She ascribes my worry to my position as commander. My concerns, she explained, were typical of someone carrying my burden of responsibility.
  When we finished our chat, she offered me a mild soporific. I refused it. I wasn't selected over three thousand other applicants for this position so that I could resort to artificial aids to retain control of myself.

DAY 045 - 22:35

  Moutiers took me aside yesterday. It seems that while running a routine check of recycling he discovered minute traces of a complex protein chain that shouldn't be in our food. He's personally unfamiliar with the chain and has no record of it in the chemical log supplied to him.
  It's this lack of a record that troubles him. He's assured me that the proteins are harmless and may even be a benign additive that someone neglected to list in the log or computer. This omission is what offends him. As I believe I've mentioned before, Jean-Jacques is a perfectionist.
  I've told him that if he was positive the proteins weren't harmful, he shouldn't let it worry him so much. As long as it did not interfere with his normal assignments I suggested he try and identify the stuff in his spare time. It will give him something else to do, which, God knows, we could all use.

DAY 055 - 18:49

  I went to ask Moutiers whether or not he'd isolated or identified the mysterious protein he discovered ten days ago. Moutiers was not at his station. I expected to find him in the hydroponics chambers, which I did. I did not expect to find him rolling around on unrecycled vegetable detritus with Kim Rahman.
  Upon exiting without disturbing them and reviewing the matter dispassionately, I've decided not to say anything about it to anyone. Naturally I had no objection to Moutiers and Rahman enjoying themselves. No one expected that this crew of barely thirtyish healthy geniuses would remain celibate for thirty-two years.
  My concern was because Moutiers was apparently sacrificing bio-efficiency for aesthetics, in the form of the mattress of unrecycled vegetation. That material should properly have been undergoing reworking in the ship's processors. However, it was good to see both crew members enjoying themselves so thoroughly. I feel that under the circumstances the temporary loss of maximal recycling efficiency can be overlooked.

DAY 062 - 12:43

  Prof. Rahman and Moutiers are neglecting their assignments regularly now. They're spending almost all their nonessential time in one or the other's cabin. Rahman has been using her personal sculpturing and jewelry-making equipment to fashion objects of a nature I prefer not to discuss at this time. I finally spoke to her about it. Her response was indifferent, to say the least.
  Deeply troubled at this first actual break in discipline but realizing that a confrontation would probably do more harm than good, I had another private session with Dr. Oyo.
  She reassured and relaxed me, as she always does. Why worry, she asked me, so long as the ship is operating efficiently? If ship performance actually began to suffer, then that would be the proper time to reinforce written rules. At least the depressing boredom of two members of the crew has been alleviated.
  I have to admit she made sense. So I have left Moutiers and Rahman to their amusements.
  It is clear that Moutiers's interest in melons has shifted from hydroponics to propulsion.

DAY 064 - 03:08

  Paul Usakos, our astronomer, is discussing astrogation with Eva Østersund. Has been for some time, it now seems. Whatever courses they are negotiating involve a good deal of loud comment, audible even through their cabin doors.
  While the /Secondjump/ shows no ill effects from their neglect, the absence of constant monitoring of course and speed concerns me. I have been trying to compensate quietly by taking over some of Østersund's and Usakos's functions. The overwork has Dr. Oyo worrying about /me/.
  Another session with her yesterday. She is a consummate professional, and we are fortunate to have her aboard.
  It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to ignore the fact that for someone with three advanced degrees, including an M.D., Dr. Oyo is really built.

DAY 068 - 12:53

  There is something wrong with this ship, but no one seems to care. Østersund was with both Usakos and Moutiers when I went to query her about it. She mumbled something about unexpected visual distortion of the stellar matrix, but she wasn't particularly coherent. Under the circumstances I thought it best not to insist on further conversation.
  I attempted to discover the nature of the distortion, to learn whether it was external or shipboard in source. Before I could hardly begin, I was interrupted by Dr. Oyo.
  I am disturbed by the apparent complete collapse of ship routine, but the /Secondjump/ ignores us. It continues placidly on its assigned course, oblivious to the adolescent tumblings of its organic components.
  I confess Dr. Oyo's interruption and expressed concern for my health was not wholly unwelcome. Sese always knows how to make me feel better.

DAY 073 - 02:21

  For the first time in a long while we had another group session the other day. Only this time it did not involve meditation. I feel myself slipping further and further from reality, into an unreality of indescribable delight, The ship itself seems warmer, its colors softened beyond even their natural pastels.
  It is now evident that as a child, part of my education was neglected severely. The others derive considerable pleasure, in a good-natured way, from my awkwardness and bemusement. My willingness to learn and to experiment, however, mitigates any personal discomfort. All signs of moroseness and boredom have vanished. They still tend to tease me, though.
  For example, the computer contains no reference for explaining to me the term "daisy chain." I have inferred, however, that it has nothing to do with formal botanical terminology.

DAY 080 - 00:16

  Jean-Jacques returns to his beloved hydroponics just long enough to ensure that everything is functioning properly. He discovered a host of new proteins not listed in his catalog but is now convinced they are either harmless by-products of our recycling machinery or beneficial additives.
  From time to time he and I wonder about their presence in a basal food supply as carefully composed as the /Secondjump/'s. Usually, though, we are occupied with more important matters.

DAY 083 - 11:04

  Eva Østersund and Paul Usakos are two-thirds of the way through a dramatic version of the /Kama Sutra/. Oftentimes the rest of us are too busy to watch, but they keep us posted whenever they come across something especially intriguing. Then we all give it a try. Only Kim Rahman, however, possesses among the rest of us sufficient gymnastic dexterity to accomplish certain of the positions.
  The rest of us don't feel left out or deprived. We're inventing some tricks of our own.
  Dr. Oyo - Sese - has demonstrated that a knowledge of medicine can be put to uses other than what it was intended for.

DAY 084 - 02:15

  Oh, wow.

DAY 085 - 04:24

  Turned off the centrifuge yesterday. We're all currently enjoying free-fall, but I don't think our muscle tone will suffer. Zero gravity permits variations Sir Richard Burton could never have envisioned. Kim Rahman is producing some remarkable devices in her workshop.

DAY 091 - 15:13

  I can't explain it. None of us can. It's puzzling and confusing and impossible and wonderful.
  The /Secondjump/ has stopped. There is a sun blazing outside which can only be Barnard's Star. This discovery was extraordinary enough (probably nothing else could have been) to induce us to return to our stations.
  No question about it, we've reached Barnard's Star. There are six planets noted on first survey and two, /two/ of them, are Earthlike. Numbers three and four out from the primary. There is also a chance, Paul tells me, that the sixth moon of the fifth planet (a gas giant) is marginally habitable. This exceeds the wildest hopes of every one of us, and I'm sure of everyone back on Earth.
  We are sixteen years, one month ahead of schedule. All we can assume is that the Molenon Multiplier works like nobody's business. My apologies to all concerned with that part of the project.

DAY 093 - 06:29

  Jean-Jacques, Kim, Paul, and Sese have taken the lander down th the surface of Barnard III, which we have named, after Jean-Jacques's suggestion, La Différence. Let the historians have that one to chew on in years to come.
  Speaking of coming, Eva and I have been working the computer overtime trying to discover the reason for the incredible sudden success of the Multiplier. I believe we have. It would have been transparently obvious to anyone who'd taken the time to check certain things these past several months. None of us were in condition, physical or mental, to take regular readings of anything recently.
  Sese confirms our findings. La Différence, by the way, is more than nine-tenths Earthlike. It has a slightly higher gravity but is otherwise a paradise according to reports from below. No live higher than the lower invertebrates.

DAY 096 - 14:20

  Jean-Jacques and Sese have brought the lander up to disgorge specimens and take on fresh supplies. Jean-Jacques took a couple of hours and finally identified those mysterious proteins. It was a relatively simple procedure, especially since he now had a good idea what to look for.
  Really, I don't think that all those pheromones and aphrodisiacs were necessary.
  Cute tower of power that she is, Sese made the right connections. She said that if we'd been told that the best theoretical way to operate the Multiplier was to, uh, try and multiply, self-consciousness might have defeated us before we got started. Admittedly there were several among us who were less than ultra-liberal-minded on such matters, myself foremost among them.
  Undistorted mental output engages the space-time distortion functioning of the Molenon Multiplier. That output peaks during the act of sex. Score one for the brain boys back home, but I'm still not /entirely/ sure I like having been tricked into it. How do we measure velocity from now on? In light-years per orgasm?
  This would all be funny if it weren't so wonderfully efficient.
  Barnard IV is also inhabitable. I will not tell you what Eva and I named it, but the rest of the crew concurred. I am looking forward to seeing how the media cope with it.
  Gentlemen, this is a hell of a way to run a starship.
  We'll be returning home shortly, as soon as we've thorougly finished our exploration here. Paul will play rugby again, after all.
  The rest of us are going to do our damndest to get him home in time for the playoffs...