“Exactly. I was shocked when I saw that video footage from Tay and his men.”
“I think we all were, Will.”
“Right, right. But here’s the thing. It makes sense. That it does that. Listen, if you’re traveling through space on a ship, the distances are huge. Almost unimaginable.”
“Agreed. Including the energy required. Which is a big part of why it was a one-way trip.”
“That’s right,” Borger said. “But it’s not just the energy. It’s also the distance. Most people don’t understand what kind of distances we’re talking about. We’re talking vast. Really vast!”
Caesare listened and took a step backward, lowering himself into the second chair with a loud creak. “Go on.”
“The distances are so great, that you’d have to be traveling at speeds most people cannot really comprehend.”
“Close to the speed of light.”
“Yeah, but these days the speed of light is just a term thrown around by everyone. I don’t think most people really appreciate what that means. Even at a fraction of the speed of light, you’re talking about moving so fast that you start affecting time itself.”
“Einstein’s Theory of Relativity,” Caesare replied.
“Precisely. But here’s something that even fewer people understand. When you’re moving that fast, again even at a fraction of light speed, the energy translates in two ways. One is kinetic energy but the second is force.”
Caesare thought for a moment. “Like an impact?”
“Exactly. Like an impact,” Borger nodded. “As in something hitting the ship. And here’s the thing. Force equals mass times acceleration, so at that kind of speed, the object wouldn’t have to be very big. In fact, it could be very small. Space is mostly empty but not completely.”
“When you say it could be small, how small are we talking?”
“Really small. Like the size of a pebble, or less. Even at a tenth of the speed of light, you would be moving so fast that even a speck of dust could create one hell of an impact and rip an enormous hole in your ship.”
“Geez.”
“Yeah. And let me tell you, there is a LOT of dust floating around in space.”
Caesare folded his arms. “Well, that could ruin your trip in a hurry.”
“Exactly. Which is why you would need to be able to repair your ship, and quickly. So, either you’d have to be ready at all times, or you would need a ship that could do it by itself.”
Caesare leaned back. “Which is exactly what we saw.”
“Exactly what we saw!” Borger repeated excitedly.
Caesare sat silently, contemplating. He watched a familiar expression form on Borger’s face.
“That’s not all of it.”
Borger smiled and slowly shook his head.
“Keep going.”
“We know the ship can repair itself. We all saw it. But I didn’t know how, until this morning. In the shower.”
Borger pulled up his sleeve and exposed a small scrape on his arm. It was red but already beginning to heal. “I got this last night when we were bringing the stuff over from the Pathfinder.”
Caesare glanced at Borger’s arm. “A scrape? Okay.”
“What I’m trying to say is that this is all tied to the green liquid. The solution we saw in those containers before they were destroyed. Do you remember when we found them inside the mountain?”
“How could I forget?”
“Then you’ll remember that when we were inside, there was no system or power source to keep all those embryos in suspension like that.”
Caesare peered curiously at Borger. “Something needed to provide that energy.”
At that, Borger’s expression grew even more excited. “Exactly what I was thinking! What we saw was amazing, but it wasn’t magic. It all still has to work within the same laws of physics, regardless of whether we understand it.”
Now Caesare grinned, seeing where Borger was headed. “It did have a power source.”
“It had to have had one! We just didn’t realize what it was.”
“Until now.”
Borger smiled. “Exactly! It’s the liquid, Steve! The solution is more than just the nutrient; it’s also the power source!”
“Wow,” Caesare replied slowly.
“And that’s how the ship can repair itself! Because it’s not just surrounded by that green solution, it’s infused with it!” Borger leaned forward in his chair. “And that ship isn’t merely making its own repairs, it’s HEALING itself!”
50
Steve Caesare stared silently at his friend for a long time. What they had already witnessed was incredible, but what Borger had just suggested could only be described as astounding. Simply off the charts.
“Are you saying that ship is alive?”
Borger shook his head. “No. Not like that. But what I am suggesting is that whatever it’s made of… is organic.” He sat back up in his chair. “And infused with a solution that may be even more incredible than we thought.”
Caesare nodded, digesting. “We’ve already started research with organics — OLEDs and semiconductors.”
“And those are just baby steps. What we’re talking about here is an element, or something, that could be both a super-nutrient and a power source, and still be part of an inorganic structure. I can’t even begin to fathom the implications of that.”
“That makes two of us.”
“We have to protect this ship, Steve. We’ve got to protect it no matter what.”
Caesare nodded his head. “We have to do more than that. We also need to find the second vault. In a hurry.”
“That’s true. If it has more of those containers, it’s not just about what might be floating in that solution, it’s about the solution itself.”
Caesare twisted his arm and peered at his watch. “Nineteen hundred you said?”
51
The old diesel engines were put into reverse, roaring as their propellers churned through the dark water and bringing the large fishing trawler to a slow next to the much larger Pathfinder.
Captain Tomas Lopez, a young Venezuelan not more than thirty, stood at the helm. His one hand calmly held the wheel with the other babying the throttle. Behind him, the outlines of the boat’s towing warps and net drums were easily visible along with several large hand-crank winches.
With dark piercing eyes and a mind as sharp as anyone John Clay had ever met, Lopez was the epitome of a modern-day entrepreneur, with a dry sense of humor and thick Spanish accent.
Raised in near poverty, the Lopez family had managed to migrate to Trinidad Island before the real suffering began in Venezuela. Brought on first by the dreams of Hugo Chaves, his idealistic revolution would later set the stage for an utter failure of government by his successor Nicolás Maduro.
Even at a young age, Lopez had witnessed both the emotional and financial helplessness around him and swore not to fall victim to the same fate. Instead, he became a fisherman by day and a smuggler by night.
The wiry young captain brought his boat to a full stop next to the Navy’s research ship, long enough for the crew to tie the large lines off and secure themselves to the port side of the ship’s stern. Something they had now done many times over the last several weeks.
Lopez and his three-man crew had seen it all. Everything a person could want to smuggle, they had. Done normally for gain, they more recently began doing it for those needing help, oppressed beneath the tyrannical clutches of Maduro and his corrupted government.