The Barrier

“Space, the final frontier, and all that bullshit.” Felix Landau raised his bottle to the small porthole. Through it the stars shone annoyingly, the sun provided his only reprieve through generous light pollution.

“Any aliens out there, Landau?” Baltar, the mission commander, floated silently into the module. After months of jump-scares the crew was used to one another simply floating into the room, though there was still the occasional shriek from the more nervous among them and it had become a bit of a drinking game, without alcohol, unfortunately.

“Nah, but you’ll be the first to know.”

“Good, good.” Baltar’s attention already drifted back out of the room.

“We’ll be passing within view of Titan soon. That is, if you would like to get the crew together to watch.” Felix tried to draw the drifting attention back into Baltar.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll let you pass it round everyone what time to convene at the window.” He responded idly. Baltar’s gaze never left the wall of dials and screens.

Felix felt the rebuttal press against the back of his lips but held them firmly shut. Baltar was only interested in one thing. The Mission. The crew was reduced to a necessity for him to achieve the goal with which he had been tasked. It had fallen to Felix to keep everyone happy, and it was a job he did not enjoy.

“Watch the sky, boss. I’ve got to take a leak.”

“No problem. Don’t rush, remember the ‘Gatorade incident’, not a single drop can miss.” Baltar pulled himself into the command chair, adjusting the straps to hold his slight frame in place. Felix watched for a moment, knowing he would have to struggle to get them back to how he liked them.

Using the ladder to guide his float, Felix drifted headfirst through the heart of the Deep Solar Vesel, DSV Stapledon. Pausing at the window, he looked out at the ship’s centrifuge. The box spun around the cylindrical hull on an extended arm and was the only source of gravity within thousands of kilometres.

In the distance Titan shone, barely distinguishable from a particularly bright star. Soon the crew of six would all be here to watch drift by. A beautiful moon, a few decades away from human inhabitation. Once the Space Agency found the funding to move several million tons of equipment out there.

Drifting onward Felix felt the pull of his bunk and the security of the straps wrapped around his body. Unfortunately, the night shift was in there, and ‘his’ bunk would be occupied by Sheppard till changeover.

“Landau,” came the soft call from Washburne, her dark curly hair was tied up, as usual, and machine grease smeared all over her uniform. “The goop-pods are serviced ready for the final push. When does Baltar intend us to jump ahead?”

“Once we’ve passed Titan. I thought it would be something good to go to sleep with in our heads.”

Washburne began idly fiddling with a wall panel. Felix noticed some slight fraying on one of the fittings and could not imagine how she so casually spotted it. “Why aren’t you in charge again?” She asked.

“Baltar’s the boss, I’m just the pilot.”

“He’s a scientist. He has no idea how to manage people.”

Felix started pushing himself back in the direction of the bathroom, his bladder was beginning to ache. “This isn’t Star Trek, science is the mission, not people.”

“You never said what you think happened. Wanna reveal it yet?”

“You guys still making bets?” Felix knew they were, but he liked to hear it.

“Damn right, I intend to win the pool.”

“I’ll tell you after we find out.”

She swore through a smile as he drifted away.

“All hands, move to the pods and prepare for another heavy sleep.” Baltar bellowed into the intercom. The DSV Stapledon hummed as the full complement of six busied themselves with ensuring the ship would maintain itself while they all slept.

Felix was strapped into his couch at the top of the ship. Checking his calculations for the eleventh time. Everything had to be right before he fired up the engines and sent them all careening into the abyss.

A display to his left showed six red indicators, each representing an empty pod. One flickered and turned green. Kamal, the second pilot, was the first to go to sleep. The last to lay down would be Washburne and Felix.

“I’ve told you enough times!” Baltar suddenly shouted from his station behind Felix. “Tie that hair up or cut it off!”

Stifling a laugh, Felix knew Kirk had come up to say her goodnights.

“Don’t worry. I have it well trained,” Kirk responded. Though it was impossible, there were times when the crew honestly believed she could control her endless lengths of blonde hair. Even then, as Felix sat at his controls, the hair drifted into view from all directions, like the tentacles of some Lovecraftian beast.

“Goodnight, Miss Kirk,” Felix said to the blonde tendrils.

“Goodnight, Mr Landau. Remember to hustle. I’d hate to wake up to find you turned into ketchup.” Felix did not remind her that the training video still haunted his dreams.

“Get yourself into your pod now, Kirk.” Baltar sounded a little strangled, maybe hair was slowly wrapping itself around his neck behind Felix’s back. He undid his straps so he could drift and watch the marvellous hair in action. Long golden strands wove their way into every corner of the room, gently circling every object they came across.

“Yes, boss.” Kirk’s hair retreated from around the module and vanished with her, back through the hatch like an octopus squeezing into a crack.

With a groan, Baltar rose into the air and began following the hair monster towards the pods. However, he paused and turned to look at Felix. “I know I am not a popular commander…” His eyes were unfocused, the man obviously choosing his words carefully, “But, this mission, it’s important. We need to be professional, Landau. Please help me.” He finally looked up, eyes wide and pleading.

“I’m doing my best,” Felix replied flatly.

Baltar nodded, distracted. “I cannot explain what happened, Landau. It doesn’t make sense. I need all of us to be at our best, to work hard to find out...” The distress of a scientist faced with the impossible. That haunted look in his eyes. Everyone on the crew had seen it. Everyone understood it. No one mentioned it.

“Get yourself to sleep, Commander. We’ll find out what happened when we wake up,” Felix finally said.

With a sigh, Baltar turned and drifted away, like the ghost of the man he had once been, before the impossible happened.

Kirk’s pod activated and the light turned green. Felix settled back into his seat and began preparing the engines for the extended burn. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kirk’s pod light flicker back to red, only for a moment, then once again settle green.

Frowning, he watched the display carefully, daring it to repeat the error.

It did not.

Washburne was waiting by the pods, only her and Felix were still awake. She was leaning against his pod, arms folded, as if they had all the time in the world before the engines roared into life and propelled the tiny crew into the void of space.

The module sat in the centrifuge, and Felix almost stumbled under its, now unfamiliar, gravity.

“So, Landau,” Washburne paused dramatically, “seeing as we will find out when we wake up. What do you think happened to Voyager 1?”

Felix sighed. All he wanted to do was crawl into his pod and be enveloped in the goop, preferably before his atrophied legs crumbled beneath his weight. “I just think it hit an unrecorded asteroid and broke up.”

She frowned, “What about the static signal? As the transponder mostly survived, shouldn’t it still be floating around somewhere?”

“There is a chance the impact was just right to take away any momentum.”

You know the mathematics of such things, as a pilot, it’s basically impossible to happen as a random event. They would have had to collide at just the right speed and angle. Not even mentioning they would have had to have absolutely no difference in mass. What you’re theorising is virtually impossible.”

Felix was getting frustrated, and his legs began to ache. He found a handle and gripped it tight to stay upright. “I know, but what else could happen? All the way out there on the edge of the Oort Cloud. Heck, we don’t even really know what the Oort Cloud is, it’s so vast its existence is still basically only a theory.”

“We’re scientists, Landau, everything is basically only a theory. Even gravity.”

She had a point, and Felix knew it.

“Sixty seconds to engine ignition.” The computer announced.

“Come on, Washburne, let’s find out what really happened.” With that he stumbled to his pod and closed the hatch, the sticky goop flooded in, making his skin itch. Felix hated this part but knew that he would be asleep before he ever got the chance to scratch.

“Landau! Landau, wake up!” Baltar’s voice seemed to be a million miles away. Though the hands shaking Felix’s shoulders were, most certainly, nearby. “Wake the fuck up man!”

As his sleepy mind recovered from the goop, more sounds filtered through the haze. Screaming. Whimpering. The irregular drip, drip, of the goop of someone’s skin.

Sight was the next thing to return. Baltar’s gaunt face and scraggly wet hair was not Felix’s idea of a happy awakening, and he flinched back as a result.

The screaming and whimpering had not yet stopped. Felix’s brain finally registered that this was not normal. “What’s going on?” He asked groggily.

“It’s Kirk,” Baltar said shakily, “She’s dead.”

Felix snapped awake and pulled himself as quickly as he could out of the remaining goop. Baltar supported him as best he could with his own unsteadiness.

Shepard was huddled in a corner crying loudly. Their lanky limbs contorted into a as small of a ball as possible. Kamal had a hand rested upon their shoulder in a futile attempt to comfort Kirk’s childhood friend.

“They were the first to wake and found her,” Baltar whispered in Felix’s ear.

Even if Felix had time to brace himself, he would not have been prepared. The long blonde hair hung lifelessly around Kirk’s pod and in the middle of it all- “Ketchup,” Felix whispered to himself. Remembering his final moments with the quirky scientist.

“What was that?” Baltar responded.

“Nothing.”

“Her hair… got caught in the seal of her pod. The goop leaked out and was… unable to support her body during the acceleration.” Shepard, still puffy eyed, presented their report to the crew.

“I told her to tie it up,” Baltar whispered.

Felix looked across the small group. Flashes of anger were briefly thrown in Baltar’s unknowing direction, but none spoke out, because he had been right. Neither did anyone admit as such.

“I’m sorry to ask you this, Shepard. You are now the only one qualified to handle… organic…” Baltar faltered, “You need to… Kirk’s remains…” He seemed to be on the verge of tears himself, equally from the loss of a member of the crew, and the necessity of asking someone to clean up the remains of their lifelong best friend. Felix did not envy the commander’s position.

“I don’t think I can, sir,” Shepard whimpered.

“I’ll go with him,” Felix broke in.

Baltar began, “The rules—”

“Fuck the rules! We’re alone out here, and you cannot ask them to clean up their best friends bloody remains!” Without waiting for a response, Felix turned to Shepard, “I’ll help you. She was my friend too.”

Baltar opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it. Instead, as Felix led Shepard back up to the centrifuge, he turned to Kamal and asked him to begin plotting their route to the wreckage of Voyager One. As Washburne received her orders, Baltar’s breaking voice drifted out of earshot.

“Tell me about Kirk,” Felix said to Shepard as they floated through the ship. “What was she like growing up?”

A long silence followed then Shepard spoke, “She always wanted to study medicine. Even when we were small. We played doctor at sleepovers, I think our parents were sure we’d be dating when we grew up. I didn’t, I wanted to be an astronaut, medicine didn’t excite me till I was a bit older” they chuckled. “I guess we instinctively made both work. She dragged me with her to medical school, then I dragged her into the space program. Every project, every study, heck, every paper we published, was done together.”

“I had heard that they just wanted her for this mission, but she insisted you came along.”

“We made a promise. Where one went, the other would too. I don’t know if I can do this without her.” Tears were clinging to the surface of their eyes, and Felix guided the blind medic with a gentle hand. “I want to follow her.” Shepard suddenly added quietly.

Felix felt the sting of those words. “You can’t. Not yet. She’d kick the shit out of you if you turned up in the afterlife so quickly after her.”

Thankfully, Shepard laughs. “True,” they say with a chuckle, before the smile once again fades away. “But I have never had to do anything without her. What can I do?”

“That’s for you to figure out. But we’re all gonna be here to help you.”

“Thank you.” The two of them share a weightless hug before resuming their journey up towards the nightmare.

“Commander Baltar. Landau. Can you both come to the Command Module. There’s something you should see.” Kamal’s voice was shaky over the tannoy, and every breath echoed through the weightless atmosphere.

Shepard had fallen asleep as soon as Felix had got them strapped into their shared bunk. Felix had cleaned up Kirk’s remains while Shepard directed him from the other room, unable to stomach the sight.

They groaned slightly at the sound of Kamal’s voice but did not wake.

Kamal was frantically scribbling calculations on several printouts when Baltar and Felic entered the module.

“What is it, Kamal?” Baltar had resumed his commanding tone.

“The stars, sir. They’re in the wrong places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had initially thought we had drifted off at an angle. Bad, but not disastrous, considering the distances we can cover while in the goop. We have enough fuel to fly Pluto’s orbit for several years. But then I compared printouts of the stars before we last went under and now. We covered most of the journey while in that last bit of stasis, roughly 2000 Astronomical Units. Even at distances like that, the stars shouldn’t change, they’re too far away.”

“Kamal, why are you explaining this to us like we’re in high school?” Baltar was getting agitated, and, for once, Felix agreed with him. This was simple science to them.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I am trying to figure this out myself. We haven’t drifted. We’re exactly where we should be. But, the stars are too far away from each other.” He pushed the printouts through the air towards them. One was dated before they went into stasis, the other barely an hour ago.

Two stars were highlighted in each. The first showed them to be close, in astronomical terms, the reality would be several million lightyears apart. The other showed a vast gap in space between them. A third star was highlighted in a different colour on each to confirm that it was the same group.

“This is impossible. You have got the settings wrong.” Baltar immediately began to leaf through the logs for the camera and compare the notes to the readings on the printouts. He continues to mutter repeatedly, “It’s impossible. It’s impossible.”

Felix goes to the small porthole and looks out into the void. Kamal’s findings were clear to see even without the camera’s lenses. The stars were too far apart.

“Sir?” Kamal asked quizzically. Felix turned to catch Baltar drifting out of the module still clutching the printouts.

“Landau?” The pilot’s eyes were wide, like a child expecting to be scorned. “The stars are too far apart.”

“I know,” Felix said. “Are we still headed for the Voyager One beacon?”

“Y-yes. Yes, we are. Not far now, maybe another week before it is in sight. You managed to get us really close.”

“Focus on getting us there. We’ll work out what happened to the stars as we go.” Felix was shocked at the calmness in his voice; it was in stark contrast to how he was feeling inside.

Kamal nodded, seemingly glad to be allowed to focus his attention on something else. Felix left him to it and drifted off to find Baltar.

It did not take long. There were only a few places on the ship someone could hide.

“It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible.” Baltar’s voice drifted from his bunk.

“Sir?” Felic pulled back the curtain to find the mission commander drifting above the bed in the foetal position, tear drops floated like miniature moons around him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Felix whispered to not disturb the sleeping medic across the room. “I’m relieving you of command. Please, Baltar, get some rest. I’ll handle the crew.”

He pulled the curtain closed again and, as he drifted back out of the room, heard a small whisper, “Thank you.”

The wreckage of Voyager One lay before them. The five members of the crew crowded around the window to stare in horror at the scene illuminated in the DSV Stapledon’s spotlights.

Baltar, who had been on the road to recovery for the past eight days, whimpered. Felix desperately wanted to feel sorry for the man whose sanity was crumbling from the foundations, but his own was struggling to comprehend the sight before him too.

Voyager One was a wreck of twisted metal. Laid out across a wall of unnatural plates. A wall that stretched out across the sky further than the ships lights could reach. Across it’s surface was a warped display of the stars. A fake view of the galaxy, and space beyond.

“What is it?” Shepard asked.

“I don’t know,” Felix answered.

The crew all turned to look at Baltar whose panicked eyes turned upon their faces. “I’ll see what I can do,” he breathed.

Kamal pointed towards the warped image, “That explains why the stars were in the wrong places. This image was designed to be viewed from much further within the solar system.”

“Are you saying that our whole view of the stars was fake?” Washburne chimed in.

“No… I mean, I don’t think so. There’s barely any scratches on it, it can barely be a few hundred years old. I think this was built with the projection on it so that we wouldn’t notice that it was there. I’ve been looking at the images I took after we woke up, it’s set up to be viewed from within roughly 1000 AUs from the sun. So, whoever built it knew we were around and intelligent enough to notice if the stars suddenly vanished.”

“‘Whoever built it’? Do you know how crazy it is to be talking about fucking aliens?” Washburne screamed so loudly that the force of her breath caused her to drift backwards. “Because that’s what you mean, right? Aliens built that. Real fucking aliens built a wall around the solar system. Why? To keep us contained? To hide us away from them?”

“It’s a Dyson Sphere.” Baltar pushed a small stack of calculations and observations towards them before passing and floating down the length of the ship. Felix, Washburne, Kamal, and Shepard watched him go. None followed.

Felix plucked the pages out of the air and began reading.

“What’s a Dyson Sphere?” Shepard asked.

“It’s science fiction,” Kamal began to explain, “the idea is, a spacefaring civilisation could become so advanced that they could construct something around a sun to harness its solar energy. Like the solar farms on Earth. It’s basically unlimited energy.”

Baltar’s notes were observing the panels’ absorption of light, heat and radiation. They also recorded that the wall was slightly concave and the angle, theoretically, was just right to belong to a sphere that could envelop the nearly 5000 Astronomical Unit width of the solar system.

“So, aliens have turned our home into a solar farm?” Washburne sounded more cross than anything else.

Felix envied her ability to not feel the same dread that he was feeling. He reached the end of Baltar’s notes, finding, at the bottom of the last page, a small, scrawled message to him.

“Where did Baltar go?” Felix turned to ask the group.

“I don’t know.” Shepard responded.

Leaving the pages behind, Felix hauled his way through the ship at speed. He went to the bunks, the kitchen, the cargo bay, the airlock. Nothing. Only the centrifuge remained unsearched.

There Felix found Baltar. Hanging. From a rope fashioned from Kirk’s long blonde hair.

Felix wished his drink was alcoholic. He was strapped into his seat in the command module staring out into, what he had once believed to be space, but now was known to be fake.

Everyone else was in the pods, asleep in the goop, ready for the long flight home.

Baltar had been given a funeral. Each crew member providing a short eulogy about his love of science and his even-tempered command. Some were obviously lies, but none wished to criticise a man at his own funeral. At the end, his body was allowed to blow out of the airlock and float towards the wreckage of the Voyager One, and the mystery that he had dedicated himself to solving.

Felix’s thoughts returned again and again to the unknown race that built the Dyson Sphere. Where were they from? What did they look like? Why did they choose our sun? Were questions he repeatedly asked himself but could not answer.

Did he want to know the answers? Something in his gut told him. No.

They knew humanity was there, and they chose to disguise their existence from us. That was the fact that frightened Felix the most.

He raised his bottle to the porthole and quietly said, “Space, the final frontier, please be kind to us.”