Chapter 14
For more than two hours they roamed the ship, headsets on and off, taking those first halting steps that babies take to reach their mother’s outstretched arms. And though their access to the central computer remained limited, it felt great to make at least some headway.
As Heather had speculated, the visualizations were triggered, not by the room, but through the headsets, which broadcast imagery and other sensations directly into their brains. Being on the upper deck was not necessary, but the room’s design enhanced the experience. The more cluttered the room, the more those distractions intruded upon the imagery.
Also, the chairs on the command deck, or more accurately, individual couches, cushioned the body in such a way that she could not even tell she was sitting in them. It felt almost like she floated weightlessly. This made it easier to focus on the sights, sounds, and feelings the computer delivered.
Most interesting was that each person had his or her own individual view. While Mark might be experiencing the ship cruising into Earth’s solar system, Jennifer might see herself surrounded by strange instruments and symbology, while Heather watched something completely different.
Getting the computer to respond was still somewhat frustrating. If she managed to create a clear question in her head, then the ship would respond with a combination of imagery, sensations, and symbology. But that only happened if the ship's computer understood what she wanted.
Heather pictured the starship’s arrival and the computer responded, correcting her initial thoughts as the events played out all around her. The plunge through the atmosphere in pursuit of the Rho Ship, followed by the ground rushing up and smashing into her face, left her gasping for breath, even after playing it back five or six times. It was like floating in a clear soap bubble with scenery flashing by all around you, a somewhat disconcerting feeling when that imagery involved a crash.
As the afternoon waned, Heather confronted more and more roadblocks as she sought to refine her ability to extract information from the computer. The computer presented information when prompted, but most of what she saw was incomprehensible, three-dimensional symbols. She could not decipher the meaning, whether it was the alien language or, more likely, their version of mathematics.
That made sense. Many of the questions she had been asking would have mathematically based answers. Asking something like “What caused the crash?” probably caused the computer to spew out the equations describing the damage.
Although she had grown up in the Los Alamos school system, surrounded by the kids of the world’s top scientists, and despite her exceptional record in all her honors math courses, interstellar math had not yet been covered.
Leaning back in the couch, she let her mind relax. Think, Heather. Think. She visualized a grid containing the origin of a coordinate system. A perpendicular set of lines labeled “x axis” and “y axis” appeared to float before her.
She drew a single point located right three ticks and up four ticks from the origin on the grid, then followed up with another point, connecting the two with a line. It was there, floating perfectly in the air before her.
Right, she thought. She added another dimension to the grid to form a cube, and into this cube she drew spheres, ellipsoids, cubes, and pyramids.
It was easy. The equations came faster and faster, as if she had fumbled around and found a switch in the dark. A part of her mind turned on, big time.
Adding a fourth dimension was easy. She took her three-dimensional grid cube, shrank it to the size of a pinhead, then formed a line of these cubes. Five dimensions formed from a plane of the 3D grid cubes. Six: a cube made of cubes. Seven dimensions: a line made of the new cube of cubes. On and on the mental sequence spun from her mind. Easy. Oh so easy.
She no longer had to think about the equations that represented the shapes. Merely visualizing the shape brought the corresponding equations to her mind. She didn’t have to solve them; she just knew them. It was beautiful beyond her wildest imaginings.
A small hand shook Heather out of her musings. She sat up, slipping off her headset.
“If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home before dark,” Jennifer urged.
Heather glanced at her watch. “Wow. You’re right. I was having so much fun I lost track of time.”
“I have some very interesting stuff to tell you guys too, but tomorrow,” said Jennifer.
Mark laughed. “It’s going to be interesting comparing notes with my little data-geek sister. I can only imagine the wonders that await us.”
Heather chuckled as she led the way out. Once again they deposited the headsets where they had found them. Somehow, it just felt like where they belonged.
Pedaling hard to beat the sinking sun, the three teens were silent until they halted outside their houses. Heather waved at her friends as she activated the garage door, sending it rumbling noisily upward on its track. By the time her bike was hanging from its proper hooks, her father had poked his head into the garage, an inquisitive look in his eyes.
“You sure are huffing and puffing. Did you guys race home or something?”
Heather followed her dad into the house. “Not really. We had to hustle to make it back by dark.”
“Good girl. Your mom and I were starting to worry. We don’t like the idea of you kids out after dark, even if you are worldly juniors.”
At some point during dinner, Heather realized just how physically and mentally tired she was. Thank God they had no weekend homework. Now, as she leaned back from her empty plate and the smell of the apple cinnamon tea wafted up to tickle her nostrils, a warm glow spread through her body.
Her mother leaned back in her chair. “What’s that smile about?”
“Oh, I was just thinking how nice it is to be a part of a comfortable family. No matter what, I can come home and know that underneath everything, all is well.”
Her father laughed. “That’s a good thing, although at your age you hardly have the fate of the world resting on your shoulders.”
Heather sipped her tea, but the warmth it held just a moment earlier had somehow slipped away.