Kris, fear making her eyes huge, peeked over into the edge of the camera’s field of view. Sykes smiled wide when he saw her. “Raise your right hand, Missy.”
13: “THE LIBERTY LETTERS”
SAT TRANSCRIPTION QUEUE: XXX SUPPRESSED XXX
DTG RECEIPT: 09 2219Z MAR 2045
DTG TRANSMITTAL: 09 2217Z MAR 2045
TIME-DISTANCE LAG: 000:00:02:1.3 D:H:M:S
FROM: Nathan Kelley, CDR, USAN
[KELLEY.NATHANIEL@SOL.WINDWARD.NET$
USAN.MIL;
CO@SOL.WINDWARD.NET$USAN.MIL]
TO: Paul Kelley
[CLANKELLEY0819@WEBRUNNER.COM$PHILA.PA.GOV]
SUBJ: Guess where I am?
MSG: Hey, Pop.
As you’ve no doubt discovered from the 24-hour news coverage and such, I’ve gone on a little trip. It’s been a whirlwind couple of days (as you might imagine), but now that we’re all aboard, settled, and on our way, I managed to find a little free time, so I wanted to write and let you know the whole truth on everything—the truth that I wish I could have shared with you and Mom before this.
First, let me apologize for that. I know you’ve had to put up with my secrets in the past, like during the investigation following what happened on the RIVERO, but until recently, there was nothing officially classified about what our project. Yeah, there was a lot of it that was fairly UN-believable, but there wasn’t really anything I had to exclude you on. I guess, at first, it was simple embarrassment. I mean, I had this great job, working for one of the most fascinating innovators in the world, and what was I doing? Oh nothing insane … like building spaceships to go visit aliens, perhaps.
Sure, some of it was technical or industrially sensitive, so I really wasn’t inclined to say anything (nor would you have been that interested), but as for the Big Idea, as for what I was really doing and why, I never should have kept that from you two. And now, with the crazy way things have finally come together, you had to hear about what your son’s been doing from the TV and the web rather than from your own flesh and blood.
Well, no more. Now that we’re underway, further out and faster than anyone has ever gone before, and with so much longer a journey still ahead of us, there’s no reason to hold anything back. Here it is, the whole truth, some of which is already out there, some of which is covered by misinformation, and some of it yet to come out (sorry about the NDAs the Feds are making you sign, by the way):
The Deltans are real. We’ve visited them with one probe, and have another on the way, and they are just as real as Christmas. We don’t know why they’re coming here, but they’ll arrive in about 11 years. We’re going out to say, “Hi, whatcha doin’?” and, if we need to, swat them on the nose.
To do that, Gordon Lee and I (and a few others, I suppose) built this ship, the USS SWORD OF LIBERTY (DA 1), the flagship (OK, the ONLY ship) of the United States Aerospace Navy. I guess I didn’t learn my lesson from RIVERO. So, I’m back in the service, though, technically, it’s a brand new service.
You might hear a couple of different versions of how that came to be, or about crew swaps, about being press-ganged into re-taking the oath, or some crap about us hijacking the SWORD, but allow me play rumor control.
None of that happened.
The DOD, the administration, and Windward have all been in lockstep agreement throughout this process, and while we did take up a different shakedown crew at launch, they were just there for the trials and not the mission.
In fact, that crew was aboard only because they needed to see how things will be run on their ships, which will be laid down any day now. In the meantime, the SWORD OF LIBERTY, and our main crew, mine and Gordon’s crew, will be taking the long ride out to our future visitors, proudly flying the flag and representing the interests of Earth. Don’t let what passes for reporters these days tell you any different.
This ship, and the journey we’re all on are marvels in the truest sense of the word. The things it can do and the punishment it can withstand would simply boggle your mind. Case in point: rendezvous. Ever since this morning, we’ve been accelerating at a steady one-g, and we’re going to keep that up for the next 16 months, non-stop. Already, after just a day of acceleration, we’re so far out that it takes two minutes for my e-mail to reach you at the speed of light. We’re moving at over three million kilometers per hour—over 12 times faster than the fastest man-made object ever before—and only getting faster and faster as we continue along.
The intention is to approach just over 3/4 the speed of light for the first half of the journey, then flip around and match speeds with the Deltans on the second half. As we get further and further out, you’re going to see the lags between messages get longer as well. Don’t worry about it—it’s just the way things are because of the distance the messages have to travel. There shouldn’t be any really bad Einstein-ish relativity effects at that speed.
At rendezvous, and pretty much our furthest distance from Earth, we’ll be almost half a light-year from Earth. We could do it a bit faster than 16 months, but we’re approaching from an oblique angle like the probes, so we don’t accidentally threaten the Deltans with our exhaust radiance or overly highlight our approach.
Of course, that’s just getting out there. Coming back will take longer, even though it’s a shorter trip. This ship is pretty swift, but it’s not magical. When we rendezvous, we’ll have expended over half of our reactor power and available delta-v, so we’ll have to come back on a slower, but more direct route. Can’t have it all, I guess.
Well, it’s late, ship-time here, I’ve probably overloaded your heads, and I need some rest. Still lots to do tomorrow. Now that we’re officially military, I’ve got to take a look at the crew to streamline and formalize the chain of command a bit, and divide people up into department heads, division officers, and enlisted. Some of these folks were never military before, so it’s going to be quite an adjustment for them. Then we have to plan the rendezvous and drill, drill, drill. The ship may be different, but shipboard routine stays pretty much the same.
I’ll write again soon, Pop. Give Mom a hug for me and, please, don’t worry! This whole thing may beyond your wildest dreams, but it’s not beyond my biggest plans. We’re ready for this. First contact is in the bag.
I love you both.
— Nathan
PS: Almost forgot! I’ve met someone. You’d like her. More later!! (Ha! Mom is soooo going to throttle me.)
XXX EOM XXX
SAT TRANSCRIPTION QUEUE: XXX SUPPRESSED XXX
DTG RECEIPT: 17 1156Z MAR 2045
DTG TRANSMITTAL: 17 1016Z MAR 2045
TIME-DISTANCE LAG: 000:01:40:22.2 D:H:M:S
FROM: David Edwards, MCPO, USAN
[EDWARDS.DAVID@SOL.WINDWARD.NET$USAN.MIL;
COB@SOL.WINDWARD.NET$USAN.MIL]
TO: Collette Markey
[BUNNIETOES4CM@ALLITEK.COM$SDGO.CA.GOV]
SUBJ: Same Shit, Different Service
MSG: I miss you, Bunny-girl.
Sorry I didn’t write yesterday, but our first full-fledged General Quarters battle drill turned into a complete clusterfuck. It took hours to get the computer to release us from a training environment, and then even longer to reset the simulated damage and get the engines and other systems back online. I’m definitely impressed with the simulation fidelity the Windward engineers managed to coax out of the ship’s network in the short time they had, but there’s something to be said for a longer test and evaluation period. If it wasn’t for them damned aliens and their not-to-be-delayed schedule, I’d have opted for at least a few months in orbit before we got underway.