The Death of Tragedy
Start writing here…Dozens of alarms screamed at Dr. Hope as he sunk into the hibernation chamber aboard Endurance. The chamber’s cold, black gel swallowed the physicist and would soon put him in a coma protecting him from the shuttle’s extreme acceleration. The stolen spacecraft would reach a velocity near the speed of light in a matter of seconds, and hibernation would keep his bones from disintegrating.
He watched the NASA logo printed on the inside of the chamber slowly disappear into darkness as the lights dimmed and the gel enclosed his body. He had no regrets leaving Earth. He was leaving no one behind, no one to miss him. The gel numbed his entire body, but he still felt the rumble of the engine preparing to take off. Surely they were trying to stop the launch at that very moment, scrambling over computers and intercoms, dazed by the sudden lights and alarms. But it was too late. He knew Endurance better than any other NASA scientist or engineer. Building it had been his passion for the last few years.
Now the darkness was absolute. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He couldn’t feel anything in general, not even the engine any more. Only the faint sirens, begging him to stay, kept him conscious. A final jolt shook the chamber indicating lift off, but Dr. Hope was only partially awake. The navigation was set to stop near NGC 7845, a cluster of a thousand stars, nicknamed the Dionysus Nebula. The journey was six months long, but he would be hibernating for its entirety. The empty space between Earth and the nebula absorbed both the ship and Dr. Hope within it.
⁂
A head on collision with the white whip of a hurricane, his skin ravaged by cold wind and rain, but fever kept him warm from within. Then dizziness and confusion as Dr. Hope rose from the chamber with a gasp for air. He stared at his bare body slicked by the gel, as if he was fresh out of the womb. His graying hair and aging skin glistened. He could not remember anything since blacking out, other than the few seconds of a dream. He stepped out of the chamber and nearly fell. Disorientation coupled with his underused muscles made him a baby learning how to walk.
He filled with realization and relief when he noticed what laid beyond the nearby window. A glow captivated him and he carefully stepped towards the glass. A churning cloud of brown gas glittered with distant stars. Deep wells of blue and purple bubbled through the smoky cloud, ready to burst and send forth a hundred clustered stars. Supernovas caused ripples through the fabric of the nebula. A chaotic, violent, beautiful mass destroying itself. Naked and cold, Dr. Hope stared in awe at Dionysus.
Suddenly a male voice interrupted his wonder. “Hello, Dr. Hope. I am Apollo, Endurance’s main computer.” Dr. Hope slipped on his gelled heels and fell backwards on his bare ass. He let out a shout as he hit the hard floor. “Are you hurt, Doctor?” asked Apollo. The voice came from speakers hidden all around the ship.
Dr. Hope pulled himself up, expending considerable effort, and sat in a nearby leather chair. “I...I’m fine.” The sound of his own voice nearly startled him. He had forgotten about the advanced AI he had programmed over the years. A panel on the floor slid open and a cart carrying a towel and neatly folded clothes rose and rolled toward Dr. Hope. He wiped away the remaining gel and put the clothes on.
He was about to watch the nebula again when Apollo interrupted. “What is the plan, Doctor? What is our next destination?” Apollo’s speech program was top of the line, as human sounding as NASA could make it, but Dr. Hope could still hear a roboticness to it.
“There is no plan. No destination.” Dr. Hope stared at the nebula with a neutral expression, the amazement in his eyes slightly dulled by Apollo’s questions.
“Then why are we here, Doctor? Why did we leave Earth?”
“Because I felt like leaving. There was nothing there for me.” No sadness or resentment in his tone, he continued to gaze at the silent chaos outside the window. Apollo took longer than usual to process Dr. Hope’s plain words.
“You decided to leave Earth and come here on a whim?”
“Yes.” A supernova was happening to one of the nearest blue stars. It erupted from both its north and south poles like a double sided, multicolored nuclear explosion, ejecting a white and orange shockwave.
“But Doctor, that is irrational.”
“Yes. It is. What’s wrong with a little irrationality now and then?” The wave was quickly approaching Endurance, but it was not close enough to cause damage. The ship shook for a few seconds and then settled.
“Rationality is a better guide towards good decisions,” replied Apollo.
“Of course you’d say that. It’s part of your programming.” A bright flash signaled the end of the supernova. Dr. Hope turned away from the window. “You aren’t capable of irrationality. That’s what separates you from me.” He pointed forward as if Apollo was there in front of him.
“Doctor, I noticed a slight increase in my distress and desperation measurements of your tone of voice. Are you distressed and desperate?” Dr. Hope did not respond and instead balled up his fists in his pockets. He left the hibernation room, ignoring Apollo’s question.
⁂
Days went by slowly on Endurance, but Dr. Hope did not mind. Apollo dropped the issue of their plan of action for the time being, and instead busied himself with accommodating for Dr. Hope. The Doctor ate three meals a day cooked by Apollo, often with a glass of wine. When he was not watching stellar explosions and shifting gas clouds as he often did for hours a day, he would play chess with Apollo (who won every time) or watch one of the many movies stored on Apollo’s hard drive or read one of the few books on board or turn off the antigravity and float around Endurance like the astronauts of the distant past.
On the twelfth day, Dr. Hope was once again admiring the Dionysus Nebula. Deep purples and blues passionately boiled in the crevices of the dense cloud. The gaseous mass swirled and curved, parted then coalesced. A thousand stars reflected in Dr. Hope’s eyes, a slight smile lightened his demeanor. Similar to the first day in space, his sightseeing was interrupted.
“Doctor, have you decided where our next destination is?” Dr. Hope shook his head and continued to stare out at the stars. “You do not have a plan at all, Doctor?” Dr. Hope took a deep breath. His smile was gone, and he made no effort to respond. He tried focusing on the nebula, taking mental notes on its smallest details: a tiny spiral of orange dust, a tinge of red from an old giant star, a distant ripple of gas from another supernova. Apollo ignored the Doctor’s annoyance, or maybe his program was not able to detect the Doctor’s subtle shift in demeanor, so he persisted. “According to my calculations, the most logical course of action is returning to Earth. Why does this course of action not appeal to you, Doctor?”
“Because everyone there is just like you!” Dr. Hope suddenly turned away from the nebula to face invisible Apollo once again. “Logic, reason, rationality, logic, reason, rationality. Not a hint of chaos or creativity or passion. Not hint of the human.” He realized he was nearly yelling. Apollo made no response. “They say the religious were blind followers of an irrational belief system, but now in the 23rd century we are blind followers of an all too rational system.”
At that moment he realized how lonely he was. Not only because he was in deep space talking to a computer, but also because he knew no one on Earth would resonate with him, or if they did, they would not say anything to avoid ridicule. Dr. Hope wished he could have both sides of the dichotomy, both rationality and chaos. But there was no where he could. He could not keep floating in space forever, nor could he return to Earth.
Apollo had not made a sound for quite some time, but he finally spoke. “Doctor, I noticed an increase in my distress and desperation measurements of your tone of voice. Are you distressed and desperate?” Dr. Hope smiled and let out a humored huff.
“I’m fine, Apollo.” He walked through an automatic sliding door and into the cockpit. Blue light glared on the curved windshield, and below it was a row of complicated computers. He began pressing buttons and flicking switches with a clear goal in mind.
“Doctor, may ask what you are doing?”
“I’ve made up my mind.” He continued to read screens and type codes.
“That is great to hear, Doctor. What is our destination?”
He pressed a few more buttons, pulled a lever, and fell back into the captain’s chair. “The Dionysus Nebula,” he responded. He went back to his favorite past time aboard the ship, admiring the star cluster.
“I beg your pardon, Doctor? We are as close to NGC 7845 as possible without being in life threatening danger. Any closer and—”
“I know.” Dr. Hope had turned off any safety precautions that might stop him. He started the main engines. They roared and shook the shuttle but settled down to a hum after a minute. He manually piloted Endurance this time. No need for navigation or hibernation. Apollo tried to deter him but the Doctor lowered Apollo’s volume. The nebula got closer and closer. Alarms and lights flashed in warning but Dr. Hope quickly turned them off. The empty black space behind Dionysus receded away as the brown cloud, blistered with pockets of purple and blue, approached. He enjoyed the silence. And soon he was swallowed by the beautifully violent swirl of stardust.
