Aero had waited eons since he put in his application, or so it seemed. Had it been thrown straight in the bin, were the Upper Council laughing at his ideas? He had been naively pleased with himself for thinking of an original project for his thesis. If his idea worked, few would be interested in an experiment in an outer sector hardly anyone had heard of, but the upside of that was that failure, even accidental destruction, would not bother many. Still, he must be positive, if his idea worked perfectly he could apply for bigger projects in one of the inner sectors. Aero did not want to be stuck forever like his parents, caretakers for this remote part. For generations his family had cherished their responsibility for the growing community, the only surviving community in this sector. Experiments had been carried out, there had been the demise of an early community, followed by the extinction of another, but new life always followed.
Aero was nervous in front of the great board.
‘I have read your application, but I want to hear you summarise it in plain language.’
‘Our humble little sector is due to be demolished because of numerous failures in its past history, but while I know my voice cannot stop its destruction, I think we should take advantage of the opportunity to conduct an experiment which could then be applied to more important sectors.
My plan would be to shuffle the planets around and expand the solar system at the same time. The attempts by the colony to escape from the solar system have become more frequent and if they ever succeeded it would cause chaos in other galaxies.’
‘Which is precisely why we have scheduled the solar system for urgent demolition. However, some members of the board find your ideas rather amusing, so we will retire for a few eons to consider our decision.’
Find out what it’s all about at our coffee morning
TODAY
The large poster greeted us as we stepped out of the station. I nudged George.
’Hey let’s go to that, it could be the answer for us.’
I fingered my new, cheap, engagement ring.
‘Tams, the last thing we want is to live in a high rise block. I thought you wanted a house with a garden, that’s why we came out here to look.’
This was the latest outer suburb we were visiting in our search for a home.
‘Free coffee and cakes and a lift to our exhibition centre.’
The voice startled us. At our side was a bloke who looked more like a scientist than a smarmy salesman.
‘Don’t look so worried, we’re running a shuttle service from the station today, it looks like rain so why not hop in and start your home hunting at the Sky High centre.’
‘How do you know we’re house hunting?’
‘Hopeful people have been arriving all morning since that article in the Guardian last weekend.’
At that moment the heavens opened and we jumped gratefully into his mini bus, smiling and nodding at several other passengers.
We were surprised to arrive ten minutes later at a huge aircraft hangar.
‘You will see inside that later, but first the introductory talk.’
George groaned ‘I knew there was a catch, bet it’s one of those timeshare things.’
As the rain was torrential and there was nothing except fields around the hangar, we didn’t have much choice. We were parked near some outbuildings and the driver held a golf umbrella over our heads as we all clambered out and through a red door. The room we entered was large and bright and full of people helping themselves at a table laden with a selection of cakes. George had three and would have gone back for more if they had not announced the presentation was starting. Behind a small stage a screen lit up. I wondered if the chap addressing us was a comedian in his spare time, perhaps I had seen him on television. Was this all a big joke?
‘Don’t worry, I won’t subject you to a long sales talk, I’ll cut straight to the exciting part. Airships, solar powered airships, how we should all be travelling, not on planes and cruise ships guzzling resources. Some folk even live on those huge cruise ships, good idea to get away from the world, so could you live on an airship? Yes. Our airships orbit the earth just like the International Space Station, only bigger and lower down. Imagine working from home sky high, looking down on the countries you have conference calls with. Or being part of a fantastic project to study the future of airship life, silently gliding through the clouds.
‘That’s just pie in the sky’ said a voice from the back.
‘Hardly, we were all meant to be on the moon by now, what happened to that idea? Our plan is the realistic one. But the big advantage for you young people and a few mature folk is it’s all free. We do offer a gold package for those who want a life of leisure, but most of you will be working as part of the team, according to your talents and experience. Growing vegetables in the sky garden, technical maintenance of the ship, part of the medical team… this is going to be a mini world.’
‘How many airships have you got in orbit’ asked George ‘and how come we have never heard of them?’
‘Prototype One, which is manoeuvring unnoticed above peaceful parts of the earth. The news media are only interested in toy rockets being blasted up and falling down or exploding, not in positive stories. That’s why we will be running our own radio and television stations.’
I nudged George, I worked for a little local radio station as the general dogsbody.
‘How big is this airship, how can if fit a whole space commune on board?’ asked the voice from the back.
‘You will soon see and bear in mind it can be expanded once up in the sky. Now it’s time for the tour of Sky Galleon One’s interior.’
We were led to a door which opened into a sloping tunnel as if we were boarding an aeroplane. There were gasps of excitement as we stepped through the round doorway into a large light atrium, the centre of the four storey vessel. We were each given a small electronic device with a screen to show our location on a 3 D map and more importantly, one button to press which would guide us back to the atrium from anywhere. Thus we were free to explore until summoned by a signature tune.
‘There will be crew members dispersed on every deck to answer your questions.’
George, with his technical and scientific expertise, was busy tapping surfaces, opening cabinets and marvelling at the lightweight constructions of cabins and furniture. I was entranced by the lush sky garden and the lovely personal apartments, so spacious compared to our cramped flat. Then we walked up a sloping passage and arrived at another floor where we were surprised to find a theatre and a dance hall. George saw a sign for the observation deck and rushed me down a spiral walkway to arrive at a glass floor. Presumably there was ground underneath, but the glass rested on an aerial picture of paradise islands in an azure sea.
A tune started playing on our devices.
‘Oh this is on Mum’s playlist I exclaimed – Up, Up and Away…’
George raised his eyebrows ‘A bit cheesy, but appropriate I guess. Do you want to be up, up and away?’
‘YES.’
Back at the atrium there was a buzz of chatter, then we were called to attention.
‘We won’t go up and away until the galleon is attached below the dirigible. Now for the only time you will see what it looks like close up suspended in the hangar. Follow me.’
The hangar was even bigger than I had imagined from the outside, but the dirigible took up most of the vast space. It floated silently, gracefully, shimmering silver, how impressive it would be in the sky.
Two weeks later we were staring up at it from the airfield. Firmly tethered with our stately galleon below barely resting on the ground. We walked across the grass and up the gangway with the others, who like us had signed up on that very first day. Our ten day induction course was over, now we must learn the reality. Some opted to go to the top deck and look out of the picture windows, while George and I sat by the glass floor of the observation deck looking at grass, then the airfield and gradually a toy town.
At dinner that evening in the communal hall we chatted and found out more about each other, fifty people to get to know, all with interesting backgrounds, we would not get bored.
And we didn’t, as the weeks passed there was always more to learn, new parts of the galleon to explore and the beautiful earth to see fairly close up. Then there was our cosy apartment to retreat to. It wasn’t long before we and another two couples became part of Plan B. We were expecting a baby and put under the close care of the medical suite.
I don’t know why we had not thought about it before, but one day I said to George ‘We better find out about ground leave, we’ll have to take the baby to see his grandparents, they won’t be content with just our Facetime calls.’
When we three couples were together we mentioned the subject and the chap who was in training with the flight engineer looked worried and awkward.
‘Did you read your contract properly when you signed up, it’s not that simple.’
‘Surely when we get back above England we can just land back at the base’ I suggested.
‘You can put a balloon in the air, but not necessarily catch it.’
‘They were landing airships a hundred years ago, what’s so difficult.’
‘The sheer scale of this ship. Keep this to yourselves, but I’m pretty certain they are not ready on the ground for a landing and certainly not on board. But there is no need to worry, the ship is totally sustainable, we won’t run out of solar power and food production is going perfectly.’
Sundown seemed to come early, but it turned out I was actually dead, which came as a bit of a surprise. It was a pretty sky, but not as dramatic as one might expect for one’s last sunset.
The sky faded away imperceptibly and I was left standing, standing where? A station concourse with many other figures standing around looking confused. Nobody spoke and we all avoided looking at each other, so we were left staring at the multitude of signs, like the London Underground only more confusing. Which direction to choose? I naturally edged towards those in English, or rather those that included English amongst other languages.
CHRISTIAN
So we/they were right all along? No hang on Muslim, Hindu, Atheists… they were in for a surprise… Jews, Agnostics, Jainism…
I decided Christian might be the logical choice, but as I stepped forward three more signs came up… Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant… surely earthly divisions didn’t continue in the higher realms? I decided it would have to be Protestant and when Church of England and nonconformist signs lit up, C of E seemed the sensible choice, though I should really have gone with agnostic.
A guide floated into view and called Christine Brown. I nodded, I couldn’t seem to find my voice.
‘Year of birth? We have several Christine Browns.’
That was hopeful, perhaps there had been a mistake and I was not dead yet, after all I was in good health.
‘1963‘
‘No, you’re not on the list.’
‘Phew, I knew there must have been a mistake, you mean I’m not dead?’
‘No you are dead, just not allocated here.’
‘But I was Christened, named after the Good Lord himself and I’m English, it’s our established faith, you have to let me in.’
‘That’s as maybe, but it’s not a faith you adhere to.’
‘But I went to Sunday School, I was in Pathfinders and I’m always at the church, well I meet my friends in the Refectory Tearooms.’
‘But you don’t actually enter the church.’
‘I was at the free lunchtime organ concert only last week.’
‘The last time you attended a service of worship was at your cousin’s wedding thirty years ago.’
‘And that was the last time she set foot in a church!’
I laughed at my own joke, but the higher being did not have a sense of humour.
‘Even then your mind was not on God, during the prayers you were more interested in what everyone was wearing.’
I suddenly felt chilled to my core, this wasn’t a dream, this was real, how did this being know so much about me? Perhaps I should have been more humble.
‘Please forgive me, I did not mean to be rude, it’s just a shock, being dead. Could you please tell me where I should go.’
‘I cannot tell you, that is for you to decide, you have had sixty one years to think about your soul. Everyone here sees only what they understand.’
‘But I don’t und…’
I was alone, he had faded away and as I spun round in confusion I saw more signs. GAIA, thank goodness, that was where I belonged.
‘Welcome,’ said a gentle voice ‘have you got your visa?’
‘I am pretty sure I belong here, I am environmentally friendly, I watch David Attenborough, I’ve rewilded my garden and built an insect hotel and a hedgehog door. I do feel closer to God in the garden.’
‘What about the bees and flies that die every day shut in your hot conservatory?’
‘I try to catch them, I can’t stop them coming in… and I never kill spiders or even ants… I’m not sure what more I could have done.’
I felt a wave of warmth.
‘Don’t worry my dear, you have just done the best thing ever for wild life on earth.’
‘Oh, thank goodness, what did I do?’
‘You died.’
‘Little me gone can’t make much difference…’
‘No, but we have just cleared sector 5321 of all humans so those creatures you profess to cherish will thrive.’
Yes, today and report back to me ASP. If this woman is telling the truth we can’t let her get into the hands of the press… or the government. Show me that letter again… hmm where is she and where are her two er ‘companions’?
At a Salvation Army shelter, treating them all as vulnerable homeless persons apparently, so at least nobody will be in the least bit interested in them.
Good, good and if they do appear to be telling the truth we can slip them away to my place in the country and I will go and visit them personally.
Which place… and if you don’t mind me saying Sir, what if this is all a hoax, or this poor woman has been duped?
Then we make sure they are taken care of.
Isn’t that a bit drastic Sir, I wasn’t suggesting they be disposed of.
I mean cared For… what was your last position?
Mrs Smith, Mrs Lauren Smith?
Yes and this is Belinda Billings… and Doctor Chowdry.
Cummings, I have come on behalf of one of the people to whom you addressed your letter; I cannot disclose who until I have verified your story.
Fair enough, but how are we supposed to trust you if we have no idea who you are?
Do you know who you can trust?
No, no, even my own husband does not believe me, he just wants a rational explanation as to why or how I went missing for eighteen days, the worst eighteen days of his life. I can’t say I blame him, he was in a terrible state; at least now he’s not suspected of murder. He has managed to fend off the press saying the family need privacy at this difficult time, they are hiding out at his aunt’s in Devon. The Salvation Army have been very kind, but I think they are just humouring us, trying to find Belinda and the doctor on their missing persons data base, no luck for them with that ha ha.
Let me tell the story from our point of view Mr. Cummings. Lauren appeared in our bunker during one of our security alerts and was in a very confused state. She was not registered with us and in her strange outfit we had no idea where she could have come from, she certainly didn’t look like a hunter. Her ID, if it was real, indicated she had come from the 2020s. As the year is 2099, that seemed impossible until I recalled the legend of Lauren of London, who will come to take us back to the past so we can mend the future…. And she did and here we are.
Well Miss Billings I can certainly see why no one believes any of you. What do you have to say Doctor Chowdry?
If no one of importance listens to us our mission will have failed. Gaia saved herself, but she had no reason to care about humans. It was up to us to work out how to live in harmony with Mother Earth and we didn’t. So now we grovel underground, trapped like rats, rats with the minds of gods.
I believe them Sir, or at least it’s worth bringing in every expert you can muster to investigate their claims.
Susan switched on her ageing ipad, checked the time, pressed the Facetime link and the familiar face appeared.
‘Hello Mother, how are you, what have you been up to this week?’
His greeting never varied and each week she would rehearse fascinating snippets of news and intelligent comments on world events. But when it came to the moment her mind went blank; there was not a lot to tell and even less that Guy and his family would be interested in.
Three little faces popped in and out of the screen, mostly upside down. Her son adjusted the camera so she could see her three grandsons tackling their new assault course; the latest ploy by their mother to direct some of their cooped up energy. Bouncing off the walls took on a new meaning in their confined home, it was so hard for parents not to be able to take them out.
The assault course was such a success they could not be prised away to come and talk to her; after nearly a year it was only natural that little ones would not be interested, they had their own lives now. It was a marvel that she could see and hear them so easily, across so many miles, but she found herself envying instead of pitying her sister with the daughter from hell. The girl had turned up back home a year ago, with three children from different fathers and no money and had not left until it was too late to leave.
Susan was proud of her son and all he had achieved and admiring of her daughter-in-law who had adapted so well to their strange new life, but the two further years until his posting was up seemed interminable.
Who would have thought when Guy was so young, devouring books about space and science in preference to children’s stories… perhaps it was not such a surprise, but obsession was not enough, he had the brains and ambition to achieve his dreams. Still she could not quite believe that her son was leader of the first Moon colony, IMC, International Moon Colony. Seeing the boys now, totally adapted to zero gravity, screeching with delight as they crawled along the curved ceiling of their living quarters, belied the cold fear she felt that this was a remote risky venture that only grown men should be attempting.
‘Grandma, Grandma, we can see you now.’
The camera panned round to the large porthole, through which she could see the Earth beginning to rise. It was a beautiful sight that she was privileged to see and as her grandsons floated and jostled around the porthole it was some comfort that they knew where they had come from, where they belonged.
Vanden came back a hero, nobody had flown that high into upper space before. Even as he negotiated the precarious landing he was planning his next take off; he had to discover more, find out if his amazing theory was correct. But would the high council even believe him, let alone invest in another skyblast and a three person expedition. First he must address The Academy, his safe return did not in itself prove anything and it would take a while for his team of experts to interpret the telescopic recordings.
The ageing president spoke to the learned gathering first. ‘The fact that Space Chief Marshall Vanden has returned is proof indeed that upper space is finite, otherwise he would surely have been propelled further and further into infinity, never to return.’
‘Your honour,’ the vice president stood and bowed, a tight smile on her face ‘our rocketgalleons are programmed for reversal after 35% of crew sustainable capacity has been used, but the magnetron telescope saw far yonder with no sign of an ending.’ She nodded to Vanden to speak before the president could utter more foolish words.
‘Your honour, our ancestors thought our earth was finite, they feared to climb any mountain lest they topple over the other side into hell. Then a few brave women climbed the highest peak and what was on the other side, but more land stretching endlessly in every direction. Each generation has travelled, hunting, roaming, farming, multiplying so that their children in turn set forth to find new land. There is always new land and always will be, we are not a table top held up by a giant, but an infinite earth that I saw from upper space; our land has no edges, no corners, no curves, just beautiful undulations and landscapes of every hue. And what of the depth? How far down have we mined for the precious elements we need for our cities and our galleons? If it were possible I believe we could excavate down and down and never reach rock bottom. And so it is with upper space, infinite in height as the earth is infinite in depth.’
There was a cheer from at least half the gathered assembly and a young man stood up. ‘Should not the mind of Academecians be as infinite as creation? How high must be the mega stars that give us heat and light. Vanden has not even approached them, otherwise his rocketgalleon would have melted.’
Another voice called out cynically ‘Stars, did you count how many or shall you tell us there is an infinite number?’
‘They are infinite, but stars are not all that is beyond our reach. The magnetron detected reflected light from orbs, orbs of rock and land; I believe above us is a universe so different that the impossible is possible. Round earths with an atmosphere surrounding them, the same as the mighty layer of air that blankets us and perhaps…’
No one was agreeing now, everyone was on their feet exclaiming, gesticulating, but Vanden was determined to finish what he had to say.
‘…perhaps on these round earths there might be life, even intelligent life like us.’
Now there was uproar, the vice president pleaded for silence, it behove the dignity of The Academy to let the president answer.
‘Now we know for sure that the mind of our poor brother, our esteemed Space Chief Marshall, has sadly been affected and if he is not insane he surely speaks blasphemy. How could there be life on a ball of earth… people? They would surely fall off. There is but one earth that has no end, one body of air we breath and high above us the stars that warm us and nothing else.’
‘Just follow the instructions,’ said the exasperated father ‘you put too much water in last time.’ ‘But it looked so beautiful and shiny.’
‘Sparkle and glitter are no good if it doesn’t work properly. You need to get the axis straight for a start.’ ‘The axis would have been fine if my stupid sister hadn’t thrown lumps of rock.’
‘You must learn by your mistakes, the structure has been unstable all along, you were over ambitious. Now it’s time to get back to basics and before we can do that you need to dismantle E1. It’s all recycling these days… Don’t look at me like that, you knew we’d have to put them down; you can have new pets when I’m satisfied with E2; not so many this time, pets that don’t eat each other or kill one another.’
In another of the occasional blogs from my sister in Australia she shares a letter she sent to the ‘West Australian’ and ‘Australian’ newspapers.
This week the media has been full of information about the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969. It was an amazing achievement, and worthy of our attention, but before we get too distracted with thoughts of going back to the moon and then on to Mars, let’s think seriously about Spaceship Earth, and the lessons to be learned from the Apollo 13 mission.
This mission came to be dubbed a “successful failure” after an onboard explosion destroyed the chance of landing on the moon, and changed the mission into a far more difficult one of getting the astronauts back to earth safely. The craft was critically low in power, oxygen levels were of concern, and carbon dioxide levels mounted to near lethal levels. It took all the ingenuity of hundreds of people – scientists, astronauts and engineers – to solve the problems, and against all odds, the three men were brought back safely. During those tense days, the whole world watched and hoped, and mankind was once more united in a common cause.
Here on Spaceship Earth, we face not only the climate crisis, but also the problems of overconsumption, pollution, unimaginable mountains of waste, destruction of the environment with accelerating loss of biodiversity. The main lesson to be learnt from Apollo 13 is that humans are incredible and ingenious when our backs are against the wall. For those of us who accept that climate change is happening, we should not lose hope. The odds against the Apollo 13 flight coming home again were almost impossible, and yet they succeeded.
For those in our community who deny there is a problem, consider what would have happened if, after those famous words “Houston, we have a problem” had been uttered by Jim Lovell, politicians had denied there was a problem, and instead ridiculed the astronauts. Then, when the scientists and engineers at Houston had confirmed that there was indeed a problem, had tried to silence them, preferring instead to believe those few people who asserted the whole moon landing had been faked anyway? What if, instead of using those precious hours to come up with solutions and implement them, the Americans had whittled away the precious hours by arguing about whether a problem even existed? It would have reached a stage when it was truly too late to act.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the world could be united in an effort to solve, or at least ameliorate, Climate change? We already have many solutions, but are failing to implement them because of disharmony and vested interests. We can succeed, but we have to start now, because … Houston, we have a problem. A big problem !!!!
A new exhibition opens here at the weekend, challenging how we perceive the world around us. The artist and photographer Scribaltide claims there is no up or down, on earth or anywhere in the universe, so therefore we should free ourselves from the notion that there is a right way up to hang paintings and photographs. The exhibition has been panned by critics and the Royal Photographic Society has distanced itself, saying Scribaltides’s pictures are not of a standard they would recognise, even the right way up.
Noah’s Ark, the wilderness years.
The Flood
Tide Times
New Horizons
Steep Path
Skyfall
Red Door
Dark Angel
Heatwave
Globe
Spiralling
The public have been flocking to the exhibition, but there have been reports of some viewers being taken ill with dizzy spells and nausea. A disclaimer advises those with a heart condition or who are pregnant to seek the advice of their doctor first.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 