"No, Captain. I am unable to acknowledge your order as I do not understand it. 'A mistake is a mistake' is semantically null. If I see you about to sugar your coffee twice shall I-"
"Tell me! Of course."
"If I see you treating your wife unjustly shall I-"
"Wait a moment! Even if I did or have-which I decline to stipulate-it is not proper for you to interfere."
"Yes, sir. We've established that there are two sets. But the Captain has not defined the sets and the Chief Pilot lacks authority to do so. May I resPectfully suggest that the Captain take notice of the quandary, then reframe the order at a time of his choosing... and in the meantime permit the Chief Pilot not to correct the Captain's mistakes?"
Zebadiah winked at me with his head turned so that I saw it but Pop could not.
Pop fumed, complaining that I wasn't showing common sense and, worse, I had broken his train of thought. He finally got around to a definition at about 8th grade level: I was to correct him only in errors involving figures or related symbols such as angles. (On your own head be it, Pop!) I gave him Roger-Wilco.
"In fact," he went on expansively, "it may be my duty to see that this training course is completed before, with great relief, I turn this seat over to my successor."
(I started figuring how many children I would have by then and decided to look for ways to hike up the "white mutiny.")
"Captain?"
"Astrogator."
"This advice concerns a mistake that could occur in the near future. I assume that the Captain has the conn?"
"Hilda, I have the conn. Speak up."
"We are falling, sir. I advise placing us in orbit."
I sighed with relief, as radar distance I was beginning to think of as Habove-G and did not like our closing rate.
Pop said, "Surely, put us in orbit. Take the conn and do it. Good practice. Deety can show you how. Or Zeb."
"Aye aye, sir. I have the conn. Chief Pilot, keep her level with respect to planet."
"Roger. Level now."
"Copilot, add speed vector positive axis L three point six klicks per second."
"Uh... set!"
"Hold it!" Pop unbelted, steadied himself by Zebadiah's chair, checked the setting. "Okay. Execute!"
"Excuse me, Captain," Zebadiah said, "but was that order directed at me or the Astrogator?"
Pop opened his mouth-then turned red. "Astrogator, I am satisfied with your solution and the setting. Please have the maneuver executed."
"Aye aye, sir. Execute!"
What Pop planned seemed reasonable. "So far we have used juice, supplies, and four days' time, and have merely established that there are at least two analogs of our universe, one quantum and ten quanta away on Tau axis. The latter has beasts-wogs-that are not the vermin we fled from, but-according to Hilda-closely related. To me, this makes Tau axis not our best place to seek a new home.
"Zebadiah has suggested that we sample the universes available by rotation rather than translation-six axes taken four at a time-before we search Teh axis. Let me remind you that we could die of old age searching Teh axis alone. I will decide but I will listen to arguments pro or con."
Twenty-three minutes later Aunt Hilda shrilled, "Copilot, by plan, as set- Rotate!"
"Difference physical laws, a different topology."
Jacob:
We rotated to... Nowhere- So it seemed. Free fall and utter blackness- The cabin held only the faint
radiance from the instruments.
My daughter said in hushed tones, "Captain! May I turn on inside lights?" This was a time to establish discipline and doctrine. "Permission refused.
Copilot, I would like to see in all directions."
"Yes, sir," Zeb acknowledged.
After a few moments I added, "Copilot? Why are you waiting?"
"I am awaiting orders, sir."
"What the hell, Zeb? Get with it! I said I wanted to see in all directions. We have preprograms for that."
"Yes, Captain."
"Well? Why aren't you using them? Can't you carry out orders?" (I was amazed at Zeb.)
"Captain, I have not as yet received any orders, and I am not at the conn."
I started to answer sharply-and bit down on it. Precisely what had I said? I recalled that the autopilot stayed in recording mode during maneuvers; I could play back the last few minutes-
-and decided not to. We were wasting time and it was possible that I had not expressed myself in the form of a direct order. Nevertheless I could not
ignore Zeb's pigheaded behavior. "Copilot, I am aware that I have not given you direct orders. However, it is customary to treat a captain's requests as politely worded orders."
"Yes, sir."
"Well? God damn it, why don't-"
"Captain! Captain Jacob! Please listen! Please!" I took a deep breath. "What is it, Hilda?"
"Captain, I am required to advise you."
"Eh? Advise away-but be quick about it."
"Captain, you have given the Copilot neither orders nor requests. The autopilot's record will confirm this. You mentioned preprograms-but voice programs are not normally handled by the Copilot."
"I can order the Copilot to use a voice program." Hilda did not answer. Again I waited, then said, "Well?" Then I said, "Astrogator, you did not answer me." "Sorry, Captain. Answer what?"
"My question."
"Captain, I was not aware that you had asked me a question. Would you mind repeating it?"
"Oh, forget it, forget it! Chief Pilot!"
"Captain."
"Deety, what's the voice program to rotate us a full circle around W axis?"
"Shall I spell it, sir? S.G. is awake."
"No, do it. Turn out your instrument lights. Pilots watch forward, Captain and Astrogator will watch the sides. Do it. Execute."
Instrument lights dimmed to zero, leaving us in the darkest dark I have ever experienced. I heard a repressed moan and felt a burst of sympathy for my daughter; she had never liked total darkness. But she carried out my orders:
"Gay Deceiver, Tumbling Pigeon."
"Forward somersault-whee!"
"Execute."
I felt pressure against my belts-being forward of the center of mass we were starting a gentle outside loop. I started counting seconds as I recalled that this program took twenty seconds.
I had reached seventy-eight seconds and was beginning to wonder when Deety announced "Twenty seconds" as the autopilot announced, "End of program."
Deety said, "You're a Smart Girl, Gay."
"If I were smart, would I be doing this? Over."
"Roger and out, Gay. Captain, 'I request permission to switch on cabin lights."
"Permission granted. Report observations. Copilot?"
"Skipper, I saw nothing."
"Deety?"
"Nothing."
"Hilda?"
"Jacob, I didn't see anything. Can't we get out of this universe? It stinks."
"That stink is me," our copilot said. "The reek of fear. Captain, of what use is an empty universe?"
"Zeb, 'empty universe' is a meaningless expression. Space-time implies mass-energy, and vice versa."
"Captain, it looks empty to me."
"And to me. I'm faced by a dilemma in theory. Is the mass in this spacetime so far away that we can't see it? Or is it in a state of 'Cold Death,' level entropy? Or did we create this universe by rotating?"
"Create it'-.---Huh?"
"A possibility," I pointed out. "If we are the only mass in this universe, then this universe had no existence until we created it by rotation. But it will not collapse when we rotate out, because we will be leaving behind quanta we are radiating."
"Hmm- Captain, I'm bothered by something else. We started from universe-ten and made one ninety-degree rotation. Correct?"
"Yes. We rotated around 'x' and thereby moved each of the other five axes ninety degrees. We are now experiencing duration along 'y.' Teh and 'z' are spatial coordinates now, and 'x' remains spatial because we rotated on it. Tau and 't' are now null, unused."
"Mmm- Deety, what Greenwich time is it?" Zeb glanced at the instrument board.
"Uh- Seventeen: thirteen: oh-nine."
"Smart Girl says you are twenty seconds slow." Zeb looked at his navigator's watch. "But my watch splits the difference. How many minutes since we left Windsor City?"
"Thirty-nine minutes, thirteen seconds. Ask me a hard one."
"I'm going to ask your father a hard one. Captain, if you tell G.D. to scram to Windsor P.G. right now mark!-what will the Greenwich time be?"
"Look at your clock. About a quarter past seventeen hundred."
"But you told me that, since rotating, we've been experiencing duration along 'y' axis."
"But- Oh! Zeb, I'm stupid. No time has elapsed on 't' axis since the instant we rotated If we reversed the rotation, we would go back to that exact instant."
"Deety hon?" Zeb asked. "Do you agree?"
(I felt annoyed that my son-in-law consulted my daughter as to the correctness of my professional opinion-then suppressed the thought. Deety will always be my little girl, which makes it hard for me to remember that she is also my professional colleague.)
My daughter suddenly looked upset. "I- Pop! That first trip to the world Without the letter 'J'-time did pass, it did!"
Zeb said gently, "But that was translation, Deety. You continued to experience duration along 't' axis."
Deety thought about it, then said sorrowfully, "Zebadiah, I no longer know What time it is. Pop is correct; we experience duration on one axis only, and
that is now 'y' axis. We can't experience duration on two axes at once." She heaved a sigh. "Will I ever get the clock in my head set right again?"
"Sure you will," my son-in-law reassured her. "Like crossing a time zone. Shortly after we grounded on Mars-ten, your head started keeping time both in Greenwich and in Mars Touchdown meridian time, even though Touchdown time kept falling farther behind hour after hour. A simple index correction won't bother you. My sweet, you don't realize how smart you are."
Zeb patted her hand, then looked around at me. "Captain, may I propose a change in schedule?"
"Let's hear it."
"Sir, I would like two sequences. First, go back to Windsor P.G. with the verniers preset for a hundred thousand klicks straight up, and execute at once. Then translate back to our own universe-zero-but not to Earth-zero. Instead, set up an orbit around Mars-zero. That orbit becomes our base of operations."
I said, "Simple enough. But why?"
"So that we will always have somewhere to go back to. Deety can write us a program that will place us back in that orbit. Something like G, A, Y, H, 0, M, E, but based on Mars-zero-with elbow room."
I asked, "Daughter, can you write such a program?"
"I think so, Pop. An emergency scram? G, A, Y, plus something?" Deety paused. "Sagan.' G, A, Y, S, A, G, A, N means to return to orbit around Marszero. Built-in mnemonic."
"Satisfactory. Is that all, Copilot?"
"No, sir. Our schedule breaks up naturally into a five group, a four group, a three, a two, and a one. I would like to add to each group a return to orbit around Mars-zero. Captain, if you were on the verniers, I wouldn't worry; you know them so well. I don't. If I do fifteen rotations, one right after the other, I'm afraid I'll make some tiny mistake and we'll wind up in analog-AndromedaNebula in universe a thousand-and-two on 'z' axis, with no idea how wa got there or how to get home."
"Copilot, you worry too much."
"Probably. Captain, my whole life is based on being chicken at every opportunity. I'll breathe easier if I come back to a familiar orbit at the end of each group... and know that the next group is one less. It won't take ten minutes longer to do it my way and I'll be less likely to make mistakes. But tackling all fifteen at a slug scares me."
"Captain Jacob-"
"Not now, Hilda. I must settle this with-"
"Captain, I am required to advise you."
"Eh? All right, all right! Make it snappy."
"You know-we all know-that Zebbie's premonitions must not be ignored. I advise you officially- Gay Deceiver, record this 'I-tell-you-three-times."
"Hilda, I hear you three times."
"Captain Jacob, I, your second-in-command, advise you officially to revise the schedule of rotations in the fashion recommended by the copilot. End of I-tell-you-three-times."
(Have you ever found yourself boxed in? Damn it, I intended to let Zeb do it his way; I am not unreasonable. I can't say that I believe in Zeb's premonitions; I suspect that he is simply a man with extremely fast reflexes. But both our wives believe in them and Zeb does himself. I found myself faced with mutiny unless I did exactly what I had intended to do anyway! How does one describe 50 ironical a situation?)
Shortly I found myself saying, "Copilot, by revised schedule, set second rotation of first group." We were in "Sagan" orbit around Mars of Universezero (i.e., the one we had grown up in: Galactic coordinates X0, Y0, Z0, & t0- Earth-zero, Mars-zero, Sun-zero, Universe-zero). I tend to think of this as the "real" universe even though I am aware that there is no evidence or mathematical theory for preferring one frame of reference over another-to do so is egocentric provincialism at its worst. But I offer this in mitigation: for us it was simplest and thereby helped us to avoid getting lost.
"Set," Copilot Zeb reported. I went forward, checked the setting (rotation around 'y,' with 'z' and 't' dropping out, null), then returned to my seat. "We can spare a minute to look at Mars. Deety, tilt the nose down to let us look. Do you know how?"
"Like this, Captain?"
"Right," I agreed. "Keep it up."
Deety raised the craft's nose and swung right, catching me with belts not yet fastened. I said forcefully, "Deety! What the hell are you doing?" while I floundered and grabbed.
"Sir, you ordered 'right' and 'up," Deety answered.
"I did no such thing!"
"But, Jacob-Captain-you did tell her that, I heard you."
"Hilda, you keep out of this!"
Hilda answered stiffly, "Captain, I respectfully request that you either relieve me of the conn, or that you give orders to my pilots through me."
"Damn it, you don't have the conn. I do."
"Then the Captain neglected to relieve me."
"Uh- Take the conn! Carry out the planned schedule."
"Aye aye, sir. Chief Pilot, orient the car for best view of Mars."
"Aye aye, Ma'am!"
I was fuming, not looking, hardly listening. I had said to Deety, All right, keep on with it-or had I? Gay could play it back... and could also check on Hilda's incredible allegation. If I were wrong (I felt certain I was not!), I would face up to it like a man and- Zeb broke in on my thoughts:
Captain, do you care what attitude this craft is in at rotation?"
"No. Only for transitions."
"Hmm- Then it follows as the night from day thou canst not then predict the attitude we'll be in whenever we arrive in a new universe."
Only with respect to our arbitrary zero reference frame. Why should it matter?"
"It Won't as long as we arrive with plenty of room. I've been noodling how to be sure of that. I don't see an answer. But I don't want to try translations
or rotations parked on the ground. I hope the Captain won't order any."
"Copilot, I have no plans to. Astrogator, haven't we had enough sightseeing?"
"Very well, Captain," my wife acknowledged. "Deety, secure those binoculars. Zebbie, immediately after each rotation, set next rotation and report 'Set.' Deety, after each rotation, use .voice program to put us through one Pigeon-Tumble with all lights out. I will watch to port, Deety forward, Zebbie starboard. Questions?"
I said, "Astrogator, you did not assign me a sector."
"I have no authority to assign duties to the Captain. Does the Captain wish to select a sector and assume responsibility for it?"