Lemuria

The Intrepid departed the outer solar system 3075 years previously, Earth time, at approximately two thirds the speed of light. It was a black needle in space; over 200 meters long, but scarcely 10meters wide. Fabricated from sophisticated ceramics and alloys, it weighed ten thousand metric tons empty, twice as much fully-fueled. The electromagnetic catapult that shot the craft from the solar system dictated the dimensions. Needle shapes also minimize contact with the interstellar void. At two-thirds light speed, a microscopic particle of dust could strike with the impact of a bomb. Electric and magnetic force fields alternately ionized and deflected space dust, but it was essential that the bow of the ship be small and oblique to avoid a direct hit.

The ship and its contents had been subjected to accelerations on the order of 10,000 g’s. This, combined with centuries of aging and exposure to cosmic rays, made the trip impossible for any natural human being. In terms of space aboard ship, the crew was almost an afterthought. To overcome the huge energetic costs inherent in interstellar flight, most of the ship’s mass was devoted to propulsion. This included an antimatter-fusion rocket and a considerable volume of fuel. Intense electromagnetic fields contained a considerable volume of antiprotons, which could be shot into ultra dense deuterium-helium3 plasma. The products of this reaction were focused into an intense beam by powerful magnetic fields, resulting in tremendous thrust from a very small mass of fuel. The mission could be prolonged indefinitely, provided sufficient quantities of hydrogen and helium isotopes could be mined at each destination.

The longest interstellar mission ever planned, their voyage would take them on a 10,000 light year arc through the innermost arm of the galaxy. The plan was to fly deep into the Sagittarius arm of the galaxy, mapping potential life-bearing worlds along the way. Their purpose was to search for evidence of “Galactic Civilization” and if they found it, to make contact.

Each crewmember had exactly two cubic meters of personal belongings stored between bulkheads. There were also materials sufficient to conduct almost every kind of scientific research, provided the project didn‘t demand much space. Nobody had any idea what kind of a planet they would return to if they made it back to Earth. For one reason or another, each of them chose the trip voluntarily.

Vigo sipped synthetic coffee as he rifled through the biology lab. The coffee tasted like crap-missing all the low molecular weight oils. Perhaps it was that drinking it in zero-g out of a hose lacked a certain charm.

Vox examined his collection. 500,000 odd species survived the anthropocene mass extinction. It was a mere shadow of a once magnificent biosphere, but enough to keep a mind occupied for many lifetimes. He delighted in the evolutionary potential of each survivor; weeds, exotics, vermin-forms of life that resisted every human attempt at eradication, management, and domestication. On Earth, they were already diversifying to fill the ecological vacuum left by extinction. At the time he left earth, there were 73 species of Norway rats alone, including four predators. Fungal spores, prairie grass seeds, encysted protozoa and yeasts, frozen human and mammal embryos, extremophile microbes-he packed enough to create a hundred custom biospheres if the opportunity presented itself.

“Did most of your pets make it alive?” The commander’s voice surprised him sufficiently so that he lost grip of the vial and let it float end over end into the cabin. He spun in place to see his boss bearing a friendly grin. Her short blonde hair was still wet from a shower.

“That is a hell of a zoo you have there?” She continued, sizing him up like a slab of dry-aged steak. “Have you heard the recordings?”

Vigo smiled and sized her up. Her new box looked about 29 years old, had glacier blue eyes. She was a cool drink of water on the face of Venus. He wondered what sort of family this crew would amount to. It was an atypical personality that volunteered for what was essentially a suicide mission. Each of them had at least one doctorate and significant experience living in space. Most had lived among synthetic persons their whole lives, although, as far as he knew, Helga was the only one to have inhabited sequential synthetic bodies. And yet, the best and brightest members of a culture rarely volunteered for trips that offered little hope of returning home. Already, Earth had changed so much none of them would recognize anything familiar in its language, its customs, or its culture. What kind of life would they have out here?

He sized up Helga as a classical adventurer - the type that volunteered for this kind of mission because there was no fixed destination and nothing like it had been done before. Magellan complex, psychologists called it. Vigo himself was a loner. As long as his basic needs were met, he didn’t need a lot of people around. He scarcely knew the astrogator, but she struck him as a danger junkie. She and Helga had taken some unquestionably dangerous jobs in the past, exploring the Kupier belt in pulsed-fusion rockets. Marius struck him as a dreamer. The other pure scientist aboard was a mystery to him.