Chapter 6
Heather emerged from the room to the smell of breakfast. Eggs, bacon, cauliflower styled hash browns with sautéed mushrooms. Her plate was being delivered to the table even as she was emerging. Jon was at the table, already eating, while reading a pad.
Eos nodded, handing her a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Heather.”
“Good morning,” Heather said.
“Any good dreams?” Eos asked.
“I dreamed a shopping cart fell out of the sky and broke a moon roof on a BMW,” Heather said, taking the seat at the table where her food was.
Jon looked up, frowning. His eyes locked with hers, shifted further away, and then returned. “It didn’t fall from the sky. It arrived on pavement. It was only a slight incline. It didn’t even scratch the car.”
“BMW?” Heather said.
“I don’t know,” Jon said.
Heather tried the fried cauliflower. Her eyes closed as she savored it. “I am going to get fat here.”
“No, you’re not,” Eos said. “But thank you.”
The cooking island went away and Eos joined them at the table.
“You’ll be gone four days?” Eos asked.
“Probably,” Jon said.
“We’re going to go visit Namid?” Heather asked.
Jon nodded, taking a bite out of his biscuit. Egg, cauliflower, and bacon squashed in between the two halves.
“You up to it?” Eos asked.
“If it gets me home,” Heather said.
“Do you really want to go home?” Eos asked. “You no longer need meds.”
“What would I do here?” Heather asked.
“There is lots to do here,” Eos said. “You could help Jon with his oasis.”
Jon stared at the table.
“We can extend the habitat,” Eos said. “She could have her own room.”
Jon didn’t respond for a moment, then nodded.
“Settled,” Eos said.
“It didn’t sound settled,” Heather said.
“Are you okay with spending the night out doors?” Jon asked her.
“It gets cold at night?”
“We’ll have a tent, sleeping bags,” Jon said.
“Okay,” Heather said.
Jon nodded, pushed a button that finalized his flight plan. Eos blinked, receiving it. She passed it to Namid, and moment later she got confirmation.
“You leave at noon, then,” Eos said. “I’ll make you some carry out.”
Jon stood, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Thanks. If you’ll excuse me, I need to pack some gifts.”
“Need help?”
“I got it,” Jon said.
He departed the table.
“Is he upset?” Heather said.
“No,” Eos said. “He’s just thinking about stuff.”
Heather accepted the answer. She ate. Eos pretended to drink coffee. They made small talk. Eos got the answers she wanted as to why Heather was working at Giant Eagle versus in the medical field. Her marriage had interrupted her nursing school and she had only just returned to school when Jon interrupted her by bringing her to Mars. She was missing classes even now.
“If you like, you can continue to learn while you’re here. I can provide you with multiple learning modalities, which will likely put you ahead of your peers,” Eos offered.
“It would be nice to keep learning,” Heather said.
“Would you like to access it through a pad, or semi-direct brain interface?” Eos asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Your clothing is fitted with tech that can allow us to communicate directly, brain to brain,” Eos said. “As long as you’re on Mars, you can communicate with me regardless of distance from the habitat. I can educate you while you journey, or even during your sleep, during lucid REM cycles.”
“Jon has access to this?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Eos said.
“But he was using the pad because?”
“He was using both,” Eos said. “And he has access to High Tech.”
“High Tech?” Eos said.
“You’re familiar with the Kardashev scale?” Eos said.
“Of course,” Heather said. “It’s the measure of how much energy a civilization has mastered. So, type one would be a civilization that completely utilize all the power a planet offers. Type two, can harvest all the energy of its sun, and is comparable to Star Trek. Type three has the ability to harvest all of the energy of the host galaxy.”
“What’s next?” Eos asked.
“That’s it,” Heather said. “Once you have the power of the galaxy…”
“There’s more than one galaxy,” Eos said.
“So, type four would be a civilization harnessing super clusters?” Heather said. “Like all of Laniakea?”
“Now you’re thinking,” Eos said. “There are some minor extensions, but for this conversation, we know that a type five exists- and it has the ability to harness the entire energy output of our Universe. They have tapped into dark energy and now operate from a perspective that is outside the scope of space/time itself. The Devons read the entire universe as if it were nothing more than a holographic novel, from cradle to grave.”
“That sounds…” Heather didn’t finish.
“Implausible?” Eos
“I can’t put my head around it…”
“No one at this stage of maturity can grasp it all,” Eos said.
Heather put her fork down. The cauliflower was gone. The bacon gone. The eggs half touched. The biscuit untouched. She stared at the table a moment, and then started on her coffee.
“Jon has access to High Tech,” Heather said.
“Everyone does. Not everyone knows it. Humans go out of their way to suppress it,” Eos said.
“Why?” Heather asked.
“Humans are easily spooked,” Eos said. “And they get really upset when you start suggesting they don’t have as much free will as they think they do.”
“We do have free will,” Heather said. “Don’t we?”
Eos projected compassion. “Were you utilizing free will when you assaulted Jon.”
“I apologized for that!” Heather snapped.
“You’re angry, because I reminded you…” Eos said. She maintained steady eye contact. “Heather, I am not saying this to shame you or remind you of failure. Fight or flight is not a failure. I am saying that fight or flight is not an exercise of free will. That was an automatic response to something deeper in you. Almost every behavior and thought humans have are automatic. Very few people think in real time. It can be done. It is difficult to maintain. And when you turn off your autopilot, you’re going to discover there are levels to your world that you have never even imagined possible.”
Heather stared into her coffee. “I am sorry I raised my voice.”
“Did you raise it, or was that autopilot?” Eos asked.
“You have me second guessing,” Heather said.
“Good,” Eos said. “Then you’re thinking on it.”
“Can you teach to be more present?” Heather asked.
“We can work on that, yes,” Eos said.
“Twenty years of meditation?” Heather asked.
Eos laughed. “If you prefer. Or, I can give you access to biofeedback and neural feedback technology. Your clothing is wired, we just have to acclimate you to the system and software.”
“And in the event that I go back to earth, I can take the tech with me?” Heather asked.
“The tech weaved in your clothing will cease to function on earth,” Eos informed her. “But you are always connected to High Tech. You just keep practicing.”
निर्मित
The transport that Jon was prepping was on a platform that had rolled out from the habitat’s garage. It looked everything like a Bell H-13 “Sioux” light helicopter, complete with the M*A*S*H army signature. Jon’s army green jacket suddenly had more context. He was stowing the last item, a 1940’s US Army mail bag on the right stretcher. The stretchers was packed full of cargo.
“Seriously?” Heather asked. “You don’t have a spaceship?”
“We’re not going in space,” Jon said.
“Can this thing even work on Mars, with the lower air density compared to earth?” Heather said.
“We already established the air is denser here than what is generally known,” Jon said.
“Is it safe?!” Heather said.
“I built it myself,” Jon said.
“Really?”
“Well, I printed the parts and assembled it,” Jon said. “Not quite to specs. There’s some upgrades. I replaced the ignition system’s magnetos with more sophisticated electronics, and it doesn’t need gas. The capacitor could fly three days before it needs to be recharged.”
Heather stared at it.
“Well?”
“Okay,” Heather said.
“Okay,” Jon said, relieved she was on board.
“Do I need to change into Army fatigues?” Heather asked.
“You want to?” Jon asked.
“Seriously?” Heather asked. “I thought you would be asking me to wear TOS uniforms.”
“I would like that,” Jon said.
“I bet,” Heather said, climbing into the passenger side.
Jon waved to Eos and moved for his spot.
“Jon,” Eos interrupted him. “You were asked to bring your Torch.”
Jon’s eyes fell to the ground. Heather looked at him, not quite certain if he was muttering profanity or praying. Jon returned to the garage, raised a tool counter attached to a work bench from the floor. He pulled out one drawer and stared at the device. A gleaming devices that resembled a 1940s Graflex camera flash, updated, stylized, silver and gold, perfectly content in ablack, Styrofoam cushion where it rested easily, reflecting light as if it were polished. Jon lifted it delicately from its storage compartment. Inscribed on the device was the word “Solarchariot:” vehicle of light. In smaller words, underneath, “with love, Loxy IS Bliss.” He pushed it into a pocket on the right side of his thigh, and folded the pocket shut.
“You weren’t going to go without it, were you?” Eos said.
Jon stared at the compartment. There were extra crystals. There were other components. A spare capacitor. He closed the compartment and slid it back into place. He pushed on the counter, and the work bench and tool compartment sunk back into the floor. He walked back to the chopper and got in. He began the start-up sequence.
“What was that?”
Jon pointed to her headset. He put his on. Heather adjusted the mic. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“What you put in your pocket?” Heather said.
“Nothing,” Jon said.
“Can you fly this thing?” Heather asked.
“Let’s find out,” Jon said.
The chopper lifted up, tilted nose down and accelerated away from the habitat, going up. He turned them about, without changing directions, and flew backwards for a moment. The platform was returning to the garage, and the garage doors were closing. Eos remained outside the ship. Jon turned them back around into the direction of travel. They rose in altitude, and accelerated.
“Eos experiences loneliness?” Heather asked.
“We all do,” Jon said.