Greg Krojac - The Schrödinger Enigma

In Washington DC, Administrator Healey and dozens of NASA staff were rushed to various city hospitals, all suffering from the same severe headaches and presenting with strange red marks on their skin. The condition of each of them deteriorated rapidly as their bodies began to rebel against them, evacuating bodily fluids at their leisure.

Deputy Administrator Nelson stayed at NASA HQ, although he wished that he could have gone to the hospital with his friend Tony, to offer moral support if nothing else. But somebody had to take charge while the Administrator was incapacitated. He knew things looked bad, but he hoped and prayed that Tony would recover and that they would soon be back together trying to solve the enigma that was Voyager One.

At 1:30 pm precisely, his office phone rang. He picked up the receiver, fearing the worst.

“Deputy Administrator Nelson, speaking.”

“Sir, This is the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. I’m sorry but I have some bad news for you. I’m afraid Administrator Healey passed away thirty minutes ago. We tried to make his last few hours as comfortable as possible.”

Roger Nelson leaned forward in his chair, unwilling to believe what he had just been told. He had been expecting such a call, but nothing prepares a man for the news that his best friend has died.

“Thank you for letting me know. Has his family been informed?”

“Yes. They were the first to be told.”

The Deputy silently admonished himself for asking such a foolish question. Of course Tony’s family would have been told first. The voice continued.

“I’m afraid we’ve lost most of the other members of your staff who were hospitalized too.”

The Deputy Administrator put the receiver down on his desk and sat ashen-faced looking into space until he suddenly became aware of a tiny voice trying to attract his attention. He returned the receiver to his ear.

“I’m sorry. I needed a few seconds to take in what you just told me. Do you have any idea what killed him? I mean, with the others dying as well – it has to be some kind of infection, doesn’t it?”

“Of course, sir. I understand. We’ve called the CDC and they’re sending over a team of infectious disease specialists as we speak. They should arrive soon. In the meantime, I’m afraid you’re going to have to put the establishment on lockdown. Nobody in and nobody out. Except the CDC team of course.”

“Understood. Thank you for telling me.”

“I just wish that I could have given you better news, sir. I’ll say goodbye now. Don’t forget the lockdown.”

As soon as the phone call was over, the lockdown was put in place. Everybody was nervous, but did as they were ordered and took the sudden imprisonment pretty well. There were far worse places to be locked in than NASA HQ.

Acting Administrator Nelson sat behind his desk, the desk that Tony Healey had occupied until the previous day, his head in his hands. What was he to do? What was humanity to do? Was this to be the final act of mankind’s appearance on the cosmic stage? His investigators had come up with nothing to explain Voyager’s presence on the planet, and it wasn’t for the want of trying. They’d been over the vehicle with a fine forensic toothcomb, but to no avail, finding only Jonas Wade’s DNA. With the lack of empirical evidence, the best available metaphysical minds were set to work in the hunt for an explanation. Any and all suggestions were considered, no matter how absurd or outlandish they appeared. In the absence of any other convincing explanation the seemingly absurd extra-terrestrial interference conclusion had become acceptable. The search for extra-terrestrial intelligence had been ongoing since the invention of the radio back in the 1900s; could this be first contact? Could it be first and last contact? How else could it all be explained? All the pieces fitted together. It had always been anticipated that any alien being that came into contact with either of the two Voyagers, would be far in advance of where humanity was when the probes were launched. It was perfectly feasible that an alien might have teleportation technology, even though that was way beyond human ability at the moment. Nothing in the laws of physics forbade the transportation of large objects – even humans – but in contemporary practice it was an almost impossible feat. An atom had been transported three metres in 2014, but that was as far as research had got. And that didn’t explain the continued existence of Voyager One out in interstellar space. Just trying to wrap one’s head around the concepts was enough to cause a headache.

Suddenly David Bowie singing the first few lines of ‘Space Oddity’ brought Roger back to the real world. He accepted his cell phone’s call.

“Deputy Administrator Nelson.”

The voice at the other end of the phone identified herself as Dr Jeanette Whitty, from the laboratory where the space probe was being examined.

“Deputy – I mean Acting Administrator Nelson. I think you should come here, to the lab, as soon as possible.”

“Can’t you just tell me what’s happened?”

“I really think you should see for yourself, sir.”

Roger Nelson wasn’t really in the mood to go anywhere – the weight of the world’s problems was sitting heavily on his shoulders, but he also knew that this was part of his job now. He reluctantly boarded a helicopter which took him straight to the secret location.

A few hours later he and Dr Whitty were making their way, down a corridor leading to the space probe’s temporary home, He was quite looking forward to his first physical glimpse of what was ostensibly Voyager One.

“So, doctor. What will I be looking at?”

Jeanette Whitty sidestepped the question.

“I think it’s best that you see for yourself.”

Three minutes later, the pair were donning NASA Augmented protective suits before passing through the airlock and entering the large chamber where Voyager One was being examined. Roger Nelson tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a few seconds, before opening them again to confirm what he was looking at. He thought he must be dreaming, but couldn’t pinch himself through the protective covering of his protective splash-suit. It was a few more seconds before he was able to speak.

“Where is it?”

Professor Whitty looked at the empty space before them, a space that had, until nearly an hour earlier, been occupied by Voyager One.

“We have no idea. One minute it was there, the next it was gone. Disappeared. It’s just lucky that nobody was on it when it vanished.”

Roger Nelson moved to the middle of the room. He should have collided with the spacecraft, but there was no longer a spacecraft to collide with.

“Things don’t just disappear. Not in real life. It’s not Vegas. It’s not a David Blaine illusion. This is NASA. We’re scientists not magicians.”

Roger stopped talking, realising that he was in danger of babbling, but surely the sudden disappearance of a space probe was justification for a babble or two. Professor Whitty touched his arm.

“That’s why I thought it important that you see for yourself, Sir. It’s impossible, but it’s happened. Voyager One has disappeared into thin air.”

Roger needed some space and time to think; his best friend had died the previous day and he’d been thrust unexpectedly into the highest position at NASA. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of doing the job – he’d stood in for Administrator Healey on numerous occasions – but now the buck stopped at his desk. He decided to catch a couple of hours of light sleep to recharge his batteries as he’d be no good to anyone if he were too exhausted to think straight. His mind and body obviously needed a break, and he’d left instructions to call him if there were any new developments, so he didn’t feel guilty for trying to take a brief nap. However, he’d hardly slept at all the previous night and the need for a more substantial sleep caught up with him, sending him into deep slumber for several hours.