LIGHTSPEED

Aaron stared past his windshield into the vastness of true nothingness. Sure, he had heard people use that term before, but he knew they had no idea what the physical part of the phrase actually looked like. No, felt like is more accurate. Neither had he until that bitch, Athena, nudged his car across the 50th parallel. He understood her rookie desire to make her mark in the interplanetary racing world, but that was no excuse for placing another racer in harm’s way. Now, while he was drifting in a seemingly endless void of timelessness, she would join his fellow racers in a moment of silence for their lost comrade, then continue with her victory celebration, and no one would be the wiser.

Nothingness is not exactly what Aaron had imagined it to be. Based on theories developed by the so-called “intelligent people,” there should be an impenetrable blanket of black from the other side of his windshield stretching into infinity. It’s a place where neither light nor matter exists. Their theory is wrong!

The black nothingness sparked to life with a flash that reminded Aaron of lightning storms back on Earth. Bolts of light shredded the black ethos, creating momentary light tunnels through the void leading to — he had no idea where, but it had to be better than where he was. The longer he watched the flashes of light appear and disappear, a definite pattern came into focus. The tunnels looked to be interconnected, much like a highway system. If he could maneuver his car close enough to access the light tunnel system, it might lead him to an opening to whatever was on the other side of nothingness.

Standard equipment for cross-planet race vehicles includes oxygen tanks for sub-surface courses and small booster rockets for limited sub-orbital leaps. The car’s unique construction is the only reason Aaron was still alive, but that was a temporary situation. It was time for him to put his racing skills to the test. As well-equipped as his car was, it would never travel at light speed. He needed to plot a course that would place him milliseconds behind where a lightning bolt would strike. If his timing was right, he would drop into the light tunnel. If it wasn’t, the beam would obliterate him and his ship, turning them both into additional particles of dust adrift in the void.

Aaron checked his calculations one last time, fired up his boosters, said a brief prayer just in case someone was listening, and punched the boost button. A bolt of light streaked past Aaron’s car so close it singed some of the paint off the outer fender. The close call sent an icy shiver through his body and it was all he could do to keep his hands from trembling on the controls, but he was a professional, the best of the best. He had this!

The surroundings outside his car transitioned from blinding light to pitch black as the tunnel wrapped its cocoon-like walls around it. The acceleration from normal booster speed to near-light speed was almost undetectable. A feeling of calm descended on Aaron because he knew that whatever was about to happen was now completely out of his control. He was simply along for the ride.

One thing he was sure that the “intelligent people” got right was the relationship between time and traveling at the speed of light. Over long distances, the person traveling at light speed hardly aged compared to the people moving at normal speed. In short bursts, the light-speed traveler will arrive before his counterpart. This is how Aaron materialized at the finish line, directly in front of Athena.

During the after-race celebration, Athena subtly approached Aaron with a one-word question, “How?”

Aaron offered a sly smile, then replied, “Experience, my dear girl, experience.”

He patted her on the shoulder and joined the other racers.