Before dawn, lights shone brightly in the ship's quarters. Lübeck and Brittany had already dressed in their spacesuits. Today, they would activate the portal to transport the Saint Jacinto and her entire crew to Saturn's orbit, venturing into deep space. Yet this journey transcended mere distance—it altered time itself. The portal created a spacetime corridor, its other end a wholly unknown world, a realm reached by warping the fabric of space and time.
Lübeck placed both hands on Brittany's shoulders, gazing into her eyes. She would be the sole companion on this unknown journey ahead.
“Are you ready?” Lübeck asked, his gaze fixed on hers.
“Mm,” Brittany murmured softly.
“Passing through the portal might feel a bit uncomfortable, but I haven't heard of any major incidents. It won't be like the Philadelphia Experiment,” Lübeck knew full well the dangers inherent in operating the portal, but he also understood there was no need to burden Brittany further with such thoughts under these circumstances.
After speaking, Lübeck wrapped his arms around Brittany's shoulders and waist, pulling her close. He whispered softly into her ear,
“Don't worry, everything will be fine.”
“Mm, I'm not scared,” Brittany murmured against his neck, burying her face in his neck as she tightened her arms around him. Lü Beck could clearly hear her breath.
He tightened his own embrace, holding her close. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he kissed her cheek and neck lightly. Flashes of moments since their meeting raced through his mind. Finally, they kissed goodbye and hurried to their respective posts.
The bridge remained brightly lit. Technical officers cross-checked operations and data with base consoles according to transfer protocols, while the duty officer briefed Lübeck on the previous shift's status.
“Transfer countdown to thirty minutes, proceeding as scheduled,” Lübeck issued the command while reviewing the briefing.
The order swiftly propagated through verbal commands and other channels. Soon, Lübeck observed the base transfer dock activating its flashing countdown lights through the bridge's observation system.
Voice channels reported readiness statuses from monitoring stations while projecting data onto the combat information display. Yet Lübeck preferred receiving updates through his headset, seemingly gleaning more insight from the crew's voices.
With twenty minutes remaining in the transfer countdown, the voice channels fell quiet. Public displays now scrolled through critical ship parameters and system statuses. From the bridge's side window, Lübeck observed the base control console. He could now discern that the edges of the light windows emanating from it had transformed from straight lines into rippling, undulating patterns. It wasn't the building's windows warping, but rather the air altering its refractive properties within the frequency-shifting electromagnetic field.
The operation of the transporter portal differed from the anti-gravity engines of the space carrier itself. The latter adjusted the ship's interaction with the gravitational field, while the former altered the spacetime structure in which the ship existed.
With ten minutes remaining on the transporter countdown, all personnel ceased movement. The shipwide alert sounded, triggering fully automated operations. As the transporter sustained its increasing load, peculiar phenomena emerged—individuals experienced varying sensations or perceptual distortions. Lübeck periodically scanned the bridge crew for abnormal reactions. He himself felt as if passing through a miniature transporter portal: ringing in his ears, and a palpable tingling of his body hair as if affected by an electric field. His vision seemed distorted too, with patches of varying brightness flickering across his field of sight. When his thoughts turned to Brittany, he could almost see her seated in her chair, already strapped in, her hands gripping the armrests tightly, eyes fixed ahead, her expression tense and colorless. The image flickered and vanished in an instant. Lübeck desperately wanted to find her later to verify the truth.
As his thoughts snapped back to reality, the superconducting coils surrounding the docking portal's portal emitted a high-pitched whine through the rock walls under intense vibration. Through the bridge console's front window, he could now see the landscape and space stretching. His entire skin felt like ants crawling over it, especially his limbs, as if being bitten by fire ants.
Lübeck scanned the other crew members for signs of normalcy, his thoughts drifting back to Brittany. The whistling in his ears intensified, his chest trembled, and then—with a sharp crack—a mosaic of black and white images flashed through his mind before everything returned to normal.
Looking back out the window, he saw only endless deep space. When his gaze shifted back to the bridge console, the crew members all turned to look at him.
“Order all systems to report status,” Lübeck commanded the duty officer.
“Update navigation and positioning data.” Lübeck pointed at the information screen while issuing the command, then lowered his head to review critical mothership facility data on his terminal, all while listening to the audio reports from various systems.
After a brief flurry of information, Lübeck verified and approved the San Jacinto's deep-space deployment parameters, initiating the data transmission report to HQ.
Studying the orbital navigation map on the display, Lü Beck picked up the phone and called the ship's medical station.
“Lieutenant Commander Olivia Hayes reporting. Medical station is functioning normally. No medical assistance requests received.”
“Understood. Please hand the phone to Brittany McGowan.” Olivia paused, puzzled. Why contact her at such a critical moment? Lübeck continued over the line,
“I wish to understand the new recruits' subjective experience of the portal.”
“Aye, Captain,” Olivia replied, turning to relay the message.
“Lieutenant Brittany McGowan, report to the phone.”
“Who is it?”
“The Captain.”
“Huh?” Brittany was startled. The Captain calling her? This wasn't the time for romance. Could he be unwell?
With a mix of surprise and trepidation, Brittany took the phone. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke into the receiver, unsure what task the Captain might assign her.
“This is Lieutenant Brittany McGowan,” she said, cradling the receiver to her ear. She listened intently, straining to detect any hint of discomfort in Lübeck's voice.
“The transfer was successful. We're already in orbit. How are you feeling?”
Hearing Lübeck's voice sound normal and his lack of mention of discomfort, Brittany finally calmed her anxious heart. It turned out his call at this moment wasn't about work, but concern for her. Joy instantly filled her heart, a smile spreading across her cheeks as she softly replied,
“Ah, I'm fine, not feeling too uncomfortable.”
“Any dizziness or nausea?”
“No.”
“Good. Keep monitoring your condition.”
Hearing Lübeck express such concern, Brittany stole a glance at her supervisor and colleagues in the room.
Sure enough, a dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on her. Whether from embarrassment or remembering Lübeck's warning not to make others jealous of their relationship, she instinctively shifted her position, turning her back to the others. Then, cupping the receiver, she whispered,
“I will. You too.”
“Alright, that's all. I'll clock out on time. See you tonight.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Hanging up, Lübeck knew they would proceed to inspect critical stations and check the health status of personnel in high-risk positions—that was their duty. As for himself, he gazed out the window, locating the stars to see if Jupiter was visible. The ship would follow Jupiter’s orbit, harnessing its gravitational pull for acceleration.
The journey through deep space felt profound not only because of the vast distances but also the span of time. It was now 1931.
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and then Add to home screen.