M THEORY

Part 1 of the Tales of Jared Waite

Jared’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t move, his left arm wrapped around his short, thick mane of sandy blond hair, his fingers just touching the top of his right ear.   He strained, listening for his name to be spoken again; it was what had woken him. The soft, rhythmic chug of the engines reverberating through the hull, but there was no other sound.  He took a deep breath, smelling his unwashed, but not wholly unpleasant scent and sighed.  He’d not properly bathed since they left Earth several months ago.  He scratched his scalp with his left hand and his bare chest with his right and stretched, his toes touching the end of the six-foot berth that he’d called “bed”.  The crinkly Mylar blanket was wrapped around his bare legs, his shorts pushed up high on his thighs.  The soft, ever-present light of the cabin enveloped him.

He was alone.  Well, not truly alone for there were the other 250 settlers.  Many were scientists, but a majority of them were civilian adventurers, both male & female adults; children were not allowed -- It was still considered too dangerous at this early stage of exploration.  The ship’s crew brought the passenger total to just below 300 souls.  On Captains orders, they had entered stasis shortly after passing Neptune -- that blue planet had been something no one had wanted to miss.  Jared had obtained special permission to remain awake, but only for a limited time, so it was like being alone even though he was surrounded by a small pocket of humanity. 

He sighed again, swung his legs to the edge of the bed, pushing his torso into a sitting position with his right arm and then stood.

“Computer, status?” he called to the empty room.  He heard a series of tones indicating the onboard computer had received his request and was processing his answer.  He scratched the few days’ growth on his jawline while he waited the few milliseconds for the feminine AI voice to respond:

“Good Morning, Doctor Waite and Happy Birthday.”

“I’m not a doctor, yet, Sara, but thank you.”  - “And Happy Birthday, Jake, I miss you.”

“Nevertheless, Jared, today is Friday, April 9, Earth-time and you are 28 years old today.  We are nearing the edge of the Sol System.  We are still approximately 34.9968 light years from our destination.  All life signs, for all passengers, are normal.  There is sufficient food and water for 60.8333 Earth cycles before you are required to enter stasis.”

Another couple months of quiet and solitude; that was good.  It still gave him enough time to finalize his studies of the geology of Deepwater Canyon Basin, one of the largest on Terra VII, also known as WJE7, and complete his thesis for Xenoarcheological exploration before he had to take the prolonged, or Chang, nap as he and his fellow students had come to call stasis.  Once his primary paper was complete he’d be able to sleep better and by the time he woke up on Terra VII, he’d have his doctorate and he’d begin the next phase of his life.

Professors Jonas Weller & Don Jeffries at CALTECH had discovered the 7th truly Earth-like planet, back in the mid-’30s.  When the first few Earth-likes had been discovered, humans were still wrangling with the new technology of long distance space travel, but thanks to the privatization of the U.S. Space Program in the late teens, due to budgetary cutbacks, and forward thinkers like Xu-Lin Chang, who had divined long-term stasis, both technologies were commonplace and widely used. 

Thousands, if not tens of thousands, of people had migrated across the stars, mostly scientists and explorers, but settlers were always amongst the travelers to these new planets.  Jared and his compatriots were not unique; among a vast minority, but not unique.  This expedition would be the first to bring settlers to Terra VII and the team he was on would be the first to thoroughly explore and excavate the proposed landing site.  Whatever he found would likely be the second paper he’d publish.  ‘Doctor Jared Waite had a nice ring to it.’ He’d always thought.

Jared stretched again, his fingertips grazing the low ceiling, then bending at the waist he spread his hands flat on the floor and grunted.  The three-quarter artificial gravity produced by the centrifugal spin of the station kept him firmly grounded.  He stood up straight and moved through the hatchway and into the common hall.  He scratched his backside, pulled at the legging of the lycra shorts and yawned as he made his way to the waste closet.

As he stood relieving himself, he thought about how the rest of his waking hours would play out: Something to eat, then a trip to the gym for a workout - He might have artificial gravity, but bone and muscle loss were still something to be worried about on long-distance space travel and he didn’t want to get to Terra VII and not be able to hold himself upright.  That was just one of the reasons he hadn’t entered stasis yet.  His colleagues had gone in shortly after launch, forgetting or not caring sufficiently about the natural entropy of their bodies.  He was excited to get to Terra VII.  He did not want to spend his first few painful weeks re-acclimating to things like walking with tightened muscles and tendons; he was going to do his level best to reduce that time so he could get out into the field.  After all, that’s what he was out here for, right? --Then back to work on his paper. 

The call of nature satisfied, he absently scratched the implant in his left leg and pressed the large green recycle button embedded in the wall at about chest height.  “Great,” he thought to himself, “I’ll be drinking that later.”

All material was recycled endlessly.  It had to be for them to get to their destination and while the ship was designed with a scoop front to obtain any and all raw materials from space, it cost a lot of energy to convert raw materials into things like water and fuel.  The technology sure had come a long way from the archaic days at the turn of the century when everything had to be hauled into space and the best they could do was orbit the planet and make it to the moon.  Mars had been an adventure, from what he remembered learning as a schoolboy only twelve years ago – and not necessarily a pleasant one, if he remembered correctly.  Space travel had been dangerous then.  It still was but had been refined to a more consistent endeavor.

Strolling slowly back down the hallway, he looked through the portal window set into the hatches of his colleague's small personal chambers.  He did this after he woke each time as part of a ritual and also to ensure that each of the other six members was still alive – it also helped keep the loneliness at bay.  They lay mostly naked, the men wearing only shorts, the women a one-piece, beneath the clear cylindrical Chang/stasis environments, which not only carefully monitored their slowed but steady heartbeats, like that of a hypothermia victim, but also maintained the temperature to keep them that way.  The respirators gushed softly in and out, ensuring proper oxidation.  The whole stasis thing sort of freaked him out.  It was like being dead and he wanted to put that off as long as he could and he just didn’t have the guts to go into stasis.

“Morning, Dre.  Morning, Seth.  Morning, Troop.  Morning, Professor.  Morning, Shelly.  Morning, Ying-Li.” he called to each one as he passed their doors.  Most of the voyagers were graduate students, nominated by their respective mentors for this expedition, but with final approval from Dr. Hassan el-Siad, department head of Xenoarcheology at Rutgers University; Jared was his teaching assistant – only pages away from being able to add the initials after his name. Ying-Li was the only one among them who did not study what she called space archeology – she was an Astrobiologist and she and Deidre “Dre” Adams, the physician, Dr. Dre for short, were the only other full-fledged PhDs in the group.

When Jared arrived back at his quarters he quickly donned a pair of black cotton gym shorts and red tank top with his alma mater's logo and fastened his watch-like comm device to his left wrist.  It had been indoctrinated into him during preparations never be without it; it was not only the sole means of short-range communication between members of the team out in the field, but also served as a location device if they were separated.  Its range was less than 5 miles.  Jared turned the chron-dial and pressed the touch screen face to set it to charge biometrically.  As he lowered his arm the device beeped.

During their preparations for this trip, he and the others used to play a little game of hide and seek throughout the city when time permitted: at a predetermined time, the players would all turn on their location devices and the hunt would begin; they had 90 minutes to locate each other.  As each member found the next, they worked as a team to find the others.  The last one to be found was the winner.  Trooper Allen was the only one of them who had ever managed to keep them running for the allotted time.  Somewhat juvenile, as Ying-Li said, to be sure, but it had taught them teamwork and bonded them to ensure mutual trust. 

There had been only one rule: you could never – ever – take off your device.  It had to remain on you at all times.  Since they had been in space and the rest of the team was on ice, he’d gotten sloppy if he wore it at all and left it by his rack-side table more often than not.

 It beeped again.

Jared raised his arm, frowning at the small digital computer.

One missed voicemail.

“Very funny, guys,” he called aloud, touching the face-plate indicating he had received the message but would listen to it later.  Troop must have somehow rigged one of their devices to call him on his birthday.  Even if he’d been under, he’d get the message when he awoke.

Jared smiled at his adopted family’s birthday prank as he made his way to the common kitchen area – a small cubicle with a couple of microwaves, some fold-out tables, and attached chairs, like the kind at the University, and the only running water on this part of the ship.  Running was the word they used, it was not much more than a slow dribble, but deep in space, where water was scarce, you’d think it was Niagara Falls.

Jared pulled out a small biodegradable container of food and read the label: Eggs and bacon.  He peeled back the paper top and carefully added the required two tablespoons of precious water and stirred, replacing the cover and sliding it back into the microwave for 2 minutes.  Nothing like powdered eggs and rehydrated bacon for a birthday breakfast, feeling a little sorry for himself, being alone on his birthday.  ‘I could have chosen to be in stasis and missed this one all together,’ he thought to himself with a shudder, thinking about the Chang nap.

While his food cooked, he reached back into the cabinet and retrieved a single serve pouch of dehydrated vegetable juice.  He twisted the plug at the top, which released the appropriate amount of self-contained water and sitting himself down at the empty table, he thought about how he had gotten here, while he massaged the package to make juice.

He and his older twin brother, Jakob, had been born into a normal mid-west family.  His father, Tom, was a computer programmer and his mother Emily, had been a paralegal.  They had lived ordinary lives; played sports, done well in school, dated girls and once, Jakob had confessed, he’d experimented with boys, vacationed with their parents on the beach, visited their grandparents and had been expected to go to college.  They were a family every Christmas and he and Jakob talked on the phone every birthday –- well, at least until the accident.  After graduation, Jared went off to New York to study archeology, Jakob to California to study oceanography, not for any other reasons than they wanted different things out of life.

When his parents had died in a car crash while traveling to his undergraduate graduation four years prior, he had been devastated and guilty for having gone so far away to school and them having had to make the trip to see him.  Jakob had not been with them, having to fly from the West Coast after his last final, but before his own graduation, later that week. 

He and Jakob had spent the summer emptying out the house, dividing up the memories of their parents’ lives, drinking beer and reminiscing about their childhood.  Then at the end of the summer, they shared a deep embrace and parted ways again, to pursue higher education, just as their parents had expected them to.

Three years later, Jakob would be dead too; a Sting-ray spur through his neck.  He’d died instantly, he’d been told.  Jared was completely alone.  By that time, he had already been selected for this expedition and playing hide and seek with the other.

He’d considered backing out, briefly, but really, what would he have stayed on Earth for?  His love-life was non-existent due to the endless hours of Masters and Doctoral work, student teaching, and research and preparation for this trip.  He didn’t even have a dog; his landlord had forbidden pets.

The microwave dinged and his stomach rumbled as the tantalizing smell of breakfast reached him.

“You’re on the ride of your life,” he heard his brother’s voice in his head, “Enjoy it!” Jared snuffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, rose, and went to the microwave to retrieve his delicious meal.

He ate quickly and silently, draining the last bits of grainy vegetable juice by tilting back his head and rolling the pouch like a tube of toothpaste.  He placed his used containers in the disposal and set off to the gym area – another small cubicle with a series of rubber-band pulleys attached to the walls for strength resistance and a small treadmill built into the floor.

As he worked his way through a series of self-resistant exercises: plank push-ups, leg lifts, crunches, lunges, squats, and the ubiquitous jumping jacks and rope jumps, Jared let his mind wander over the common ground he and his twin brother had shared.

Jared has always looked up to Jakob, although he was only 12 minutes older, Jakob had always been Jared’s mentor, hero, and protector.  Not that Jared was a total wimp, but Jakob was always braver, faster and just a little smarter.  “Be brave.” He remembered his brother advising, “Be brave.”

Jared never forgot the incident in 3rd grade when Billy Reilly was pushing him around on the playground after school and Jakob had seemingly come up out of nowhere and grabbed Billy by the neck and threw him to the ground in a single swift motion, then jumped on top of him before Billy could catch his breath or recover from the shock of no longer being the bully.  Jakob rammed his knee into Billy’s belly, grabbed a fistful of shirt and bent down nose to nose, growling at him that if he even ever thought of touching Jared again, he’d rip off his arms like the wings of a fly.  Jared had been so scared to see his brother with such anger he’d peed in his own pants, but Billy Reilly never came near him again.

Then there was the vacation with their parents in Beckett, New Hampshire, up near Lake Winnipesaukee, when they were about 13 and Jakob had bravely and repeatedly jumped from the cliff into the lake.  “Be brave.” His brother had chided him each time before he jumped into the lake.  Jared had thought Jakob was Superman.    It turned out that he wasn’t; on the final jump, Jakob broke his ankle.  That, in itself, didn’t stop Jared from his brother-worship, it only made it deeper because not only had Jakob done the impossible, for Jared remained far too scared to take that kind of risk, but Jakob had a cast to show for his fortitude.  Their mother had not thought Jakob so brave or wise and grounded him for the rest of the summer and into the next school year for what she had called his “reckless stunt”.

Jakob always had been the one for adventure – it why he turned to oceanography, he’d explained to Jared many years later, when they were in college.  The great, vast seas were an unknown universe waiting to be explored and Jakob had been determined to conquer them.

As Jared finished the resistance work, he hopped onto the treadmill for some aerobic work and his mind shifted to other aspects of his brother.  It hadn’t all been hero worship on Jared’s part; there had been jealousies too. The incident involving Hannah Smith, that flaxen-haired goddess that walked the halls of Marion High during junior year, was the ultimate example. 

Jared had had a crush on her since freshmen year and had desperately wanted to ask her out to the Junior Prom, but Jakob, tired of hearing Jared pine over this girl for whom he didn’t have the courage to ask out, used his smooth style and varsity jacket to swoop in and capture the prize.  They ended up being Prom King & Queen that year and had broken up almost immediately afterward.

It had taken a long time for Jared to get over it and forgive his brother; thinking about it now, after all this time, maybe he hadn’t really gotten over it after all.    Jared exhaled deeply and continued pounding his feet on the treadmill to clear his head of the vile thought.  It was all in the past, anyway, and he not only didn’t have any idea where Hannah was these days, probably married with three kids and still in Marion, for all he cared, be he also knew why Jakob had done it; not to be a jerk, but to screw up Jared’s courage and show him that if he wanted something, he had to go get it for himself and if he failed, then at least he would know he had tried.

Jared shook his head, sweat dripping into his eyes, and smiled at the memories of his brother.  “Look at me, Jakob!  Guess I found the courage to be on an adventure of my own.” He said aloud, his breath coming in gasps as the timer dinged 30 minutes and he began a cool down.

Jared’s muscles were warm and he sweated freely from his vigorous workout.  As he walked back down the narrow hallway that bisected this part of the ship, he peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt, letting the temperature controlled air cool his body.  His mind was clear and as limber as his body; after a quick shower, he’d get back to his work.

Stepping into the small room attached to the waste closet Jared stripped off the rest of his clothes, dropping them on the floor with an audible plop.  He unstrapped his communicator and dropped it on top of the sweaty pile.  He slipped into the shower tube and after closing the door he pressed the button to start the sonic spray.

Jared imagined he could feel the particles flow over his skull, across his body and through the life support implant he had chosen to have installed in his left thigh.  If nothing else the vibration made his teeth ache, his flesh goose pimple and blood rush to his privates.  He rubbed his hands over his chest, arms, legs, and face in a mimic of a good old-fashion water shower and pressed the button for completion.

As he stepped from the shower and bent over to pick up his communicator, it beeped.  He looked at the face and frowned.

One missed voicemail.  Another missed voicemail.

“Computer?”

“Yes, Jared?”

“What is the origin of the transmission of this missed message?”

“You have no missed messages, Doctor.”

Jared shook his head and pressed the buttons on the side of the device which accessed his voicemail, then pressed play.

“First message:” the digital voice droned.  There was no sound and then the digital voice concluded a few seconds later, “End of message.  To replay the message…” Jared hit the buttons quickly to replay the message.

“First message:” the digital voice droned again.  Still no sound.  Followed by “End of message.  To replay the message press…” Jared marked the non-existent voice mail for deletion.

“Next message:” the digital voice repeated, but this time Jared heard the crackle of static for a few seconds before he was informed the message was over.  Again he replayed the message, listening carefully to the hiss and sigh of 3 seconds of static.  He pressed the combination of buttons to mark that message as saved and shook his head. 

“Sara?’

“Yes, Doctor?”

 “Synch with my comm device and tell me the origin of the saved message.”

The onboard computer was silent for a moment then replied, “Synch complete.  There is no saved message on your comm device for me to access.”

Jared quickly re-accessed his voicemail and replayed the saved message.  Still there.  Still static.  “Sara, re-sync with my comm device and identify the origin of the saved message.”

Another few seconds of silence and Sara responded, “Doctor, there is no saved message on your comm device for me to identify the origin.”

Jared frowned.  ‘What was going on?’ he whispered

“Sara?” he said aloud.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Can you hear my voice?”

“Of course, Doctor, why would I not be able to hear your voice?”

“Never mind.  Listen to the sounds I am about to play.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Jared reentered the codes and lifted the comm device towards the ceiling as if it would improve Sara’s omnipotent hearing.  He heard the static hiss and crackle. And when the message ended, he terminated the recording.  “What did you hear, Sara?”

“Only a few seconds of static, Doctor.”

“But you couldn’t access that via my comm device?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but there is nothing saved on your comm device.  Are you feeling all right, Doctor?  Should I awaken Doctor Adams for medical assistance?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He said, scooping up his cold, sweaty clothes and pressing them close to his naked chest.  He could feel his heart beating fast against the walls of his sternum, but he otherwise felt all right.  Maybe a little disoriented from the sonic shower, or maybe his blood sugar was low from the workout.

Jared hurried back down the hallway to his bunk and quickly re-dressed in the all-purpose blue jumpsuit and white rubber-soled trainers he had been issued for everyday wear while onboard.  ‘Maybe I’ll just lie down for a short while’, he thought and stretched out on his bed.

#

Jared’s eyes snapped open when he heard his name.  Only the cool rush of air greeted him.

“Jake?” he whispered.  He knew he’d been awakened by his brother’s voice.  He sat up and looked around the small room.  Space.  On his way to Terra VII.  His brother was dead.  He must have been dreaming.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and exhaled heavily.  “Sara, how long have I been asleep?”

“I did not register that you entered REM sleep, Doctor.”

“How long have I been lying down?”

“10 Earth minutes, doctor.”

Jared rubbed his hands over his face.  Maybe the isolation was getting to him.  Maybe he should shut himself down, like the others, and enter stasis.  Maybe he should try to finish his paper first.

Jared looked at his comm device.  No new messages.  Well, that was something.  He slipped it into the jumpsuit pocket as he stood up.  His head was swimming, but he steadied himself against the doorway jamb. 

“Sara, scan my vital signs.  Is anything out of the ordinary?”

The computer did not respond immediately, but he knew it was doing as he had commanded.  “Doctor, all vital signs are normal.”  He did not respond.

He walked out into the hallway and into the kitchen area, maybe he was dehydrated; not a wholly uncommon occurrence in space, what with water being so limited.  He searched in the cupboards and removed another juice pouch, twisting the top and massaging it quickly before he slurped it down.  He sat down hard into one of the fold away chairs as he felt the liquid blossom in his stomach.  He sighed again.

‘All right,’ he motivated himself, ‘let’s see if you can concentrate on some work.’  Jared stood up and disposed of the juice container and walked down the hallway to the common area – another small cubicle where he had spread out his reference books and had left his computer. 

Sitting with another heavy sigh, he turned on the tablet and began to re-read his last entries:

’If it’s true that the southernmost end of the canyon contained the life which we expect...’

His mind began to drift reading the words, but not comprehending them.  When he realized this, he shook his head and began again.

‘If it’s true that the southernmost end of the canyon contained the life which we expect…”

“Jared.”  He looked up quickly from his tablet.  He remained alone, but he had clearly heard his name this time.  He stood up and walked to the doorway, looking down the deserted hallway.  ‘Must be going nuts.’ he muttered to himself, sitting back down to his paper.

‘If it’s true that the southernmost end of the canyon contained life…”

His comm device beeped.  He slipped it out of his pocket and viewed the dial:  One new voicemail.

“Sara, from where did this transmission come?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but there have been no transmissions.”

Jared nodded; maybe his comm device was malfunctioning.  He pressed the buttons and listened to the message.  Static. This time louder and longer than it had been before, but only by a few seconds and only by the slightest volume.

‘If it’s true that southernmost end of the canyon contained life…’

His comm device beeped again.  Damn it!  This was annoying.  He’d have to shut it off and leave it until the Troop could look at it when they got to Terra VII.  He looked at the face: One new text message.

Jared frowned and pressed the buttons to review the missive:

‘MTheory=11’

‘Well, yes,’ he thought, ‘that’s true.  The extension of string theory physics postulated that there were 11 dimensions in M theory uniting all the disparate string theory results.  But that had been decades ago and little or no progress had been made on those fronts, at least not that he knew, and his specialty wasn’t theoretical physics, it was Xenoarchaeology.  ‘Whatever.’ he thought, rereading the last sentence in his paper for the fifth time:

‘If it’s true that southernmost end of the canyon contained life…’

His comm device beeped again.  He ignored it and continued to read.

His comm device beeped again.  ‘I’ll just turn it off and have Troop…’

His comm. device beeped a third time.

Jared looked at the device: 3 new messages.

Slowly, almost without conscious control, his hands trembling slightly, he pressed the buttons to read the first message:

‘Happy Birthday, Jared’

Jared forwarded to the next message.

‘I miss you too.’

Jared's hands began to shake and he fumbled with the buttons to read the final message:

‘Be Brave.’

A single tear blurred his vision before waves of conflicting emotion enveloped him: fear, joy, love, loneliness.

“Jake?” he said aloud, his voice soft, but echoing in his mind.  He swallowed twice, “I don’t know if you can hear me, or,” he paused, “or if you’re even out there,” his voice quavered.

‘Or if I’m just going nuts.’ he thought.

“But,” his voice grew louder, more confident, “I love you.”

His comm device beeped again, the message read: ‘Be Brave.’

Jared put his head into his hands and cried until there were no more tears. 

After a while, he went back to his bunk, stripped out of his jumpsuit and placed the diodes over his mostly naked body, attached the IV feeding tube and punched in the sequence to enter stasis.

He lay back and thought, ‘I’m jumping off the cliff, Jake.  Here we go!’

​

To Be Continued