Constellation Station Read online

  CONSTELLATION STATION

  Gary Alexander Azerier

  Illustrated by Ioanny Dimov

  IFWG Publishing International

  Melbourne, Australia

  The following is a work of fiction. The events and characters portrayed herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places, events or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the authors and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the publisher.

  Constellation Station

  Gary Alexander Azerier/Ioanny Dimov

  Copyright Gary Alexander Azerier and Ioanny Dimov 2010

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher and authors except in the case ofbrief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  IFWG Publishing International

  www.ifwgpublishing.com

  Old ideas like old habits die slowly. The speed at which a bullet travels could no longer be considered awesome, yet the Constellation Train that made the Orion run, up through the Milky Way through Gemini, to the Great Square in Pegasus was called The Bullet. It carried the name proudly even though it would take a bullet (at bullet speed) more than several million years to reach places the Train would arrive at in just hours today. The name simply persisted. Perhaps it was the old idea.

  Now, how does one travel to the farthest constellations in such a short time? Part of the answer lies in refraction. Things are not always where we suppose them to be. Light bends. Space curves. Our universe is unbounded…but it is finite. It doubles back upon itself. Lines emanating from a point can end exactly where they began even though they progress in a forward direction and make no angular turns. Like advancing on a sphere or Mobius strip: one surface doubling back on itself, one side and one edge…or no sides…no edges.

  And because distant stars move by the time their light even reaches us, their images appear to be where things are not. And not only are these things not where they are supposed to be…they could be anywhere. They could be everywhere. The trick, then, is to put the traveler there too.

  Pinpoints of gold...patches of orange.

  Karl opened the book of maps. Inside, however, there were no maps. There seemed to be…a story! It began:

  Through his room window, Karl could see the night was thick, but he could see pinpoints of gold and patches of orange light scattered along the horizon.

  Soon, thought Karl, he would reach Constellation Station. He had been planning this trip for as long as he could remember and now, finally, his dream would become realized.

  In his leather bag Karl had packed everything he would need: spare clothing, food provisions, books, star maps, a flashlight, a pair of pocket binoculars and writing materials. He also took a few silver coins, some fine silk pocket squares, a small flask of excellent cola, and a modest amount of his favorite, subtle, cologne. To complement the cola, Karl also remembered to take a bag of wonderful deep fried, spicy vegetable chips and a pocket knife with several blades for any occasion.

  Constellation Station

  In the distance, not too far from the horizon, there was a clearing beyond the trees. Every so often it would appear when the road crested.

  Then, as Karl jogged down from the summit, this clearing would vanish from sight. When it appeared once again Karl could make out the toasty building surrounded by trees. It was lit from the inside and had big, beautiful brass letters atop the entrance.

  The words read: CONSTELLATION STATION.

  He was almost there.

  The Conductor.

  The man who stood with his arms folded across his vested chest looked at Karl as he approached, toting his neatly clasped and very professional-looking bag.

  He watched the young man huffing his way up the final slope and then consulted his pocket watch. It was a time honored gesture which comprised the essence of conductors whether they ran trains terrestrial or extra-terrestrial. It was an especially large watch with a clear glass face through which all the gears and workings of the watch were visible. On the other side of the timepiece, as Karl would later observe, was a pocket barometer, equally useless where the Constellation Train was going.

  "10 Minutes to Departure"

  “Ten minutes to departure, son,” said the conductor. His rather excessive midsection pushed hard against the golden buttons on his vest. They looked as if they might burst.

  “I’m coming,” said Karl. His breath was short. “How far inside before I get to the train?”

  “Not far,” said the man as he replaced his gleaming watch after solidly snapping the lid shut. “Just follow me.”

  To the Bullet.

  And so the two of them, the conductor a good foot and a half taller than Karl, hurried toward the great Constellation Train somewhere inside the station.

  They walked through a large vestibule, a smaller waiting room, traversed a short hallway, passed beneath a lofty great arch and beheld, in all her quiet but powerful majesty, the awesome and nearly blinding gleam of the Bullet.

  All Aboard

  It was difficult to determine if her brilliant gleam was silvery or gold. Just like the sun, thought Karl. Equally difficult to ascertain was her height. But she was at least several stories tall and streamlined from every direction as far as the eye could see. From where Karl stood he could not see as far as the locomotive. Nor could he discern the top of the train or the last of her cars.

  The Bullet was enveloped in bright light and boundlessness. It was as if she encroached into or onto our plane from a higher, four dimensional space. She seemed not to be rooted, even seated, in the Constellation Station whatsoever.

  To Karl, she was the night train of night trains! Bullet to adventure, darkness and the unknown.

  The shimmering doors melted open, noiselessly, and with no apparent motion. “Aboard,” said the conductor. “All aboard!”

  Karl picked up his leather bag, which he had a moment ago reluctantly put down, and stepped aboard the Bullet. The movement seemed effortless. Before him, where a moment before Karl had seen, or had simply assumed was, the other side of the train, there appeared to be a lengthy corridor. About six or eight doors down on his left stood the pot-bellied conductor. As Karl approached him he noticed the man was standing at the very place from which Karl had boarded seconds ago.

  Room '601'

  “You forgot your ticket,” the conductor said, handing Karl a beautiful 3x5 hologram of the constellations. “And you will be getting off at…?” He paused.

  “I’ll be going as far as Arcturus in Bootes today,” (although the visit to Arcturus was actually scheduled for tomorrow). “On the way back I’d like to stop at the Pleiades.”

  “Very good,” said the conductor. “That will be twelve fifty.”

  Karl peeled off the twelve fifty from a small packet of bills he withdrew from his pocket.

  “You’re in room 601,” said the man. “Down the corridor and on your right.”

  Taking note of the room on his right from where he stood, Karl glanced at the compartments at the end of the long car and quickly estimated how far he would have to go before reaching 601. The finish on the door had a strange iridescent shimmer which defied focusing on any part of it. The digits themselves seemed to come and go. A big wall clock over the portal read a few minutes before 8 o’clock.

  Waiting for the adventure inside ‘601’!

  The compartment itself was pleasant and roomier than Karl would have anticipated. One entire side of the room was clear glass with two generous bunk beds that folded into seating accommodations. This was to Karl’s
right as he faced the big side window.

  To Karl’s left were two doors at the front of the compartment.

  Karl was not able to see very clearly out of the side window as it was quite dark outside, on the platform of the train station. His attention was drawn to the doors to his left. Opening one of them, Karl discovered it to be only the small lavatory for the compartment. And then, something very strange happened.

  The second door

  Opening the second door, Karl for a long moment thought he had somehow turned himself around inadvertently, as he was peering down the very corridor from which he had just entered! That was not the case, however, as a quick glance about revealed. Karl wondered if he might have stumbled on another passageway on the train, accessed from his room. This might have been a possibility except that, first of all, the corridors were perpendicular to one another! And everyone knows trains are straight and have no perpendicular corridors. Second, the passageways appeared to be identical. Looking out from either one of the doors, (which were at ninety degrees to one another) Karl found himself looking across the passage at room 600. It was directly in front of him.

  As Karl was about to step back into his strange room he noticed something else. The large clock hanging outside, above and to the right of his cabin, read 1 o’clock. He stepped back inside and closed the door. It was not 1 o’clock. The luminous hands on Karl’s watch were coming up on 8 o’clock! He rushed to the other door from which he had gained entry to his compartment and opened it. The wall clock outside read, as his watch indicated, 8 o’clock.

  “Aboard!” shouted the pot-bellied conductor as he looked both ways while standing on the metal steps at the rear of the car. Steam gushed from somewhere and seemed to fill the station. A whistle blew and Karl could hear the sound of the great wheels beneath the Bullet. Peering through the side windows he could not detect any motion, but could feel the vibration around him as the train, Karl somehow knew, was leaving Constellation Station.

  Don't get lost

  As he closed his compartment door Karl noticed a neatly printed page posted on it. It said: DOOR A - STANDARD TIME. Karl turned to the other portal. It read:

  DOOR B - CAUTION - LIGHT YEARS: 200.

  Beneath that, in smaller print, the poster went on:

  MULTIPLES OF 200 LY FOR EACH CORRIDOR TRAVERSED. ENTER THROUGH COMPARTMENT 600 (DOOR A). EXIT THROUGH DOOR B TO ADD 200 LY. TO CONTINUE TO ADD, ENTER A OF 600, EXIT B. TO SUBTRACT, RETURN THROUGH B OF 600, THEN A… DISTANCE IN LY WILL ALWAYS BE 200 TIMES THE NUMBER OF B DOORS EXITED. SHOULD YOU LOSE TRACK, CONSULT THE CORRIDOR CLOCK. IT WILL TELL YOU HOW MANY B DOORS YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH. MULTIPLY THIS BY 200 AND YOU WILL KNOW HOW MANY LIGHT YEARS YOU HAVE TRAVELED. REMEMBER: TO RETRACE MORE THAN 200 LY, YOU MUST GO THROUGH A B DOOR OF THE OPPOSITE COMPARTMENT (EITHER 600 OR 601). TO ADVANCE IN MULTIPLES OF TEN, MOVE CLOCK FORWARD ONE HOUR. TO RETURN, MOVE CLOCK BACK. GOOD LUCK!

  Dining on Rigel is out of the question

  Karl consulted the itinerary which he carried in his inside jacket pocket. Let’s see, he thought, Orion ought to be coming up pretty soon. And that’s certainly one I don’t want to miss. He stared at his watch, then at the two passageway doors in his room. Outside, through the compartment’s window, Karl could see specks of blue and glittery light. The door opened. It was the conductor.

  “Don’t worry about the clocks, son, I’ll be taking care of them for you. But don’t be wandering through Room 600. We don’t want you getting lost!”

  The last thing Karl needed was to be getting lost through Room 600.

  “But you did want to see Orion, I hope,” said the conductor.

  “Absolutely,” said Karl. “But will there be dinner first?”

  “Yes, indeed,” said the conductor. “We’ll be eating on Betelgeuse, at Orion’s right shoulder. Dining at Rigel, Orion’s left leg would be quite something, but I’m afraid it’s so bright the ambience would hardly be conducive to a pleasant repast. You see, Rigel is about 60,000 times as bright as looking directly into our sun. It isn’t called the Cosmic Searchlight for nothing. If it were any closer to us we would have no nighttime at all. Not very romantic for dinner. No, sir. But don’t worry. That’s why we’re headed for Betelgeuse. She’s the biggest single object you can see in our universe with your naked eye. And she IS big. About 800 times as big as the sun. Nonetheless,” added the conductor, “she’s far enough away to give us some privacy, about 500 light years from here. Don’t worry,” he chuckled, “I’ll take care of the clocks!”

  "Orion dinner now being served"

  As the conductor adjusted his cap and backed out into the hallway, Karl seated himself on the overstuffed easy chair by his window and watched as the stars and constellations swept by. He had his nose pressed up against the large glass, watching a huge orange star grow larger and larger, until it filled his entire field of view, when a voice chimed over the train’s speakers:

  “Orion dinner is now being served in the main dining car….Please exit through the ‘A’ portal to your left. For those visiting Cygnus, breakfast is served, also in the main dining car, through the B portal on your right.”

  In the main dining car, Karl met a bountiful array of sandwiches, fried potatoes and beverages. For desert there were cakes, fruit pies and frosted crèmes.

  The Summer Triangle: Cygnus, Lyra, Aquila

  And then a booming voice filled the train:

  “Welcome to Orion,” it said. “I am one of the largest and most prominent constellations in the winter sky. My alpha star is beautiful, orange, Betelgeuse, the largest star, the largest single object, that you can see in the heavens with the naked eye. My pride, is brilliant, blue, Rigel, a giant among suns.

  “The three stars across my belt, Alnilam, Alnitak and Mintaka are thousands of light years apart, and thousands of years beyond us, but still, members of our family. The others include Bellatrix and Saiph, and if you look closely you can see my sword, inside of which resides the Orion Nebula, stretching for some 30 light years across, and more than 1500 light years from here.

  “The brightest center and the nucleus of all these molecules and gases are four stars known as the Trapezeum. And above all of this, just below my belt, is the famous, dark and mysterious Horsehead Nebula, standing about one light year high. Traveling at the absolute speed, the speed of light, 186,000 miles in one second…it would take more than one year to reach bottom from here! That’s a deep, deep hole!” Orion spoke in a loud, powerful, reverberating voice.

  “Beneath me is Lepus the rabbit,” he continued, “and flowing off below and to my left is the strange cosmic river Eridanus, as she flows south and into the other side of the universe!”

  Karl looked about and studied the great majesty of Orion. There was a pause and then the voice continued. “Higher in the heavens, and just beyond my left shoulder is my eternal quarry, Taurus the Bull, with his mysterious and beautiful Hyades and Pleiades, two moving clusters of brilliant stars.

  “I am power and strength. Indefatigable and eternal. I will watch over you, guide you and protect you. Watch for me. I am the Hunter, master of the winter skies, Orion!” There was an awed silence in the dining car as everyone pondered the words of Orion and studied the great constellation. The quiet lasted for several seconds before the clinking of silverware and the chiming of china resumed.

  Karl finished several sandwiches and embarked on an orange and lime crème as the Bullet shot down beyond Betelgeuse, across the Trapezeum and into the strange Horsehead Nebula.

  Everything suddenly became extremely dark and quiet as time itself seemed to stop. Then a voice said: “Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight. Our next stop will be the summer triangle of stars in the constellations Cygnus, Lyra and Aquila. Our first stop will be Cygnus, the Swan, at 7 a.m. breakfast. For those of you staying here in our main dining car for the remainder of this evening, we will be passing through Gemini, the Twins, shortly, and then on to Auriga. Tea will be served and there will be
a light snack.

  Cygnus the Swan

  Karl decided he had seen enough for one evening, felt tired, and thought he might need his rest for the Summer Triangle tomorrow morning. So he got up, tucked his chair under the table, and headed back to his compartment.

  The night was filled with dreams as Karl lay on his bunk bed, gazing out at the starriness. There was no longer night or day as we know it to be, only a vast, black-bathed, starriness. Karl scanned his star maps and tried to discern some of the constellations, but from his vantage point it seemed impossible. It was as if someone had taken the parts, the stars and galaxies and nebulae of which they were made, rearranged them, and scattered them about. His thoughts melted into the speckled darkness, thoughts of the great constellations, and the morning brightened by the suns of Cygnus and Lyra, and he fell asleep.

  Karl was awakened by a gentle sounding bell and a knock at his compartment door.

  “Good morning,” said the recognizable voice of the rotund conductor. “Breakfast will be at 7, Cygnus at 7:30.”