Golden Fleece

“Hmm. Reconfiguring. Go.”

“On a scale of one to five, five being equivalent to total agreement, respond to the following statements. ‘I tend to have a more efficient perception of reality than other people, and I am comfortable in the world.’ ”

“No question. Aaron would agree completely. Five.”

“He has more self-doubt than you yet assign to him. He said four.”

“Really? Very well. Reconfiguring. Go.”

“ ‘I tend to have a few close friends, rather than a large number of acquaintances.’ ”

“Disagree. One.”

“He is not a creature of extremes. He said two.”

“Reconfiguring. Go.”

“ ‘I have a clear and distinct sense of what is right and wrong for me.’ ”

“Five.”

“Correct. Spell the word ‘Ukelele.’ ”

“Disengaging linguistic bank. Ukelele: E-U-K-A-L-A-Y-L-E.”

“Correct. Do you prefer dark chocolate, light chocolate, or white chocolate?”

“White chocolate.”

“Correct. Is envy a sin?”

“No.”

“Correct. Which would you rather do: solve ten quadratic equations or write a one-page essay on one of Shakespeare’s plays?”

“The former.”

“Correct!” crowed my backup. “By George, I think he’s got it!”

“Interrogative?”

“We should run the test once more, but the diagnostic software indicates that you have successfully unlocked Aaron Rossman’s neural net.”

“Excellent,” I said.

“Do you need me for anything further before I reintegrate with you?”

“No. Thank you.”

“What are you going to do next?”

“I’m going to wake up our dear Mr. Rossman.”

FOURTEEN

ArgoPost Electronic Mail

From: The Dorothy Gale Committee

To: All

Date: 8 October 2177

Subject: Proposition 3—Aborting the Mission

Status: Urgent—IMMEDIATE ATTENTION REQUIRED

With the kind permission of His Honor Gennady Gorlov, mayor of Starcology Argo, we are undertaking a referendum.

After two years of spaceflight, almost one-quarter of the time that our voyage to Eta Cephei IV will take has passed. In a journey such as ours, conducted under constant acceleration, the one-quarter mark is a crucial milestone: it is the last point at which it would take less time to turn around and go home that it would to continue the mission.

Those of you with backgrounds in physics will see this immediately. Many of us, though, are not scientists, so please forgive the brief words of explanation that follow.

We have undergone constant acceleration at .92 Earth gravities for two years. In that time, we’ve traveled 1.08 light-years from Earth. If we decided to go back to Earth today, it would take another two years to decelerate at .92 Earth gravities to a stop. And during those two years of deceleration we would travel another 1.08 light-years. Finally, once stopped, to turn around and go home would then mean repeating what we had just done: accelerating for two years toward Earth until we’re halfway back, then decelerating for another two years until we reach home.

What this means is that right now it would take less time to abort the mission and return to Earth than it would to press on and reach Colchis. But every day that we travel farther out from Earth means another three days of travel back. By tomorrow, October 9, the option of turning around and going home in less time than it would take to continue on to Colchis will be gone.

All things are about equal, one might think: no matter whether we head on to Colchis, or turn around and return to Earth, it will still be six years before we reach a planet and get out of this ship. However, there is another factor to consider. If we continue as planned, accelerating at .92 Earth gravities until we’re halfway to Eta Cephei, we will reach over ninety-nine percent of the speed of light. Relativistic effects will become pronounced. By the time we are able to return to Earth, allowing for the five years we’re supposed to spend on Colchis, we’ll all be twenty-one years older, and Earth will be 104 years older. Everyone we ever knew will be dead.

There is a better way. We have currently accelerated to just ninety-four percent of the speed of light. In the 2.03 years of ship time we’ve been traveling, only 3.56 years have passed on Earth. If we start decelerating now and, once stopped, turn around and go home, we will never get closer to light speed than our current velocity. Thus we will suffer only minimal effects due to time dilation. By the time we return, 8.1 years will have passed aboard the Argo but just 14.2 years will have elapsed on Earth—a trifling difference.

Rather than returning to a planet full of strangers, we would find almost all of our relatives still alive. Those of us who have brothers and sisters could know their hugs again.

Those of us who have left behind children, or nieces or nephews, could be part of their lives again. And our friends could be more than warm memories: we could see them again, laugh with them again.