Quantum Dust

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. It was one of the first things you were told when learning to Star Jump. I think it was meant to comment on the fact that most people that try to Star Jump are likely to think they can survive any and all bad decisions, because you only go Star Jumping if you’re one of those types that can’t experience happiness unless you’re doing something death-defying, or you’ve got a subtle desire to commit suicide and don’t want to make it obvious.

A successful Star Jump starts when you take a biosuit and spacewalk on a comet. Then once the coma forms as the comet gets close to a star, you open up the intake valves on your suit to take in the coma's dust. Then if the intense temperatures haven't vaporized you by that time, you activate your suit's thrusters and, using the gases in the comet's coma, you launch yourself off the comet releasing the dust as you fly. The effect is said to look like a streak of blazing light coming from the comet and the star at the same time.

A lot of things can go wrong though, which is why you have to take many classes and get certified, much like when adrenaline junkies of the past used to jump out of aircraft and plummet to Earth before releasing a parachute to slow them. The dust could ignite as you're taking it into your suit, or a fragment of the comet's material could shatter your visor.

But the natural dangers of Star Jumping were far less compared to the decisions that doofus men often made when trying to impress their comrades. I’d heard of one guy who actually thought he’d be able to quickly remove his helmet and then put it back on before he could experience the effects.

Captain Neil Baker, also referred to as “balls-of-steel Neil”, was an Academy grad known for his daring feats and supremely dangerous missions—and for his annoying habit of always returning alive, mostly unharmed. I’d never met him of course—he was before my time—but just hearing his story was enough to make me annoyed that he’d been lauded as a hero and giddy that someone like him had finally gotten what they deserved.

According to the reports and the testimonies of his teammates, the moment he’d flicked his visor up, all of the air in his lungs burst out of him, and the instant boiling of the water in his body caused his nose and the area around his mouth to freeze instantly. The disorientation from that probably made him forget all about closing his visor, and he lost consciousness in less than ten seconds.

If he screamed, no one heard it. But then again, with how fast the air left him after the decompression, he would have had no air left in him to scream.

His death was recorded as an accident, most likely due to the fact that they didn’t want to tarnish his name given all the good that he’d done for the United Sovereignty. What would they do if one of their favorite, most noble men became known as a dumbass? I shutter to think...

There were other accounts of course, though none were as idiotic as that one in my opinion. Not even when Captain Grayson attempted to Star Jump off a comet containing Triacyte, the only known element to create the conditions necessary for faster-than-light travel. I don't know if he didn't know that there was Triacyte on the comet or not—he might have just wanted to see what would happen—but as soon as he launched from the comet, he completely disappeared. No trace of him was ever found.

It was this story more than any other that occupied my mind as I worked the drill on the our latest prospect to find more Triacyte on a comet. I often thought of these stories while I was working because they kept me vigilant. I would not allow myself to relax anytime I was in a spacesuit even though I knew that I wasn't stupid enough to try something like Star Jumping.

“Ayala to Mendez,” a voice sounded in my ear.

“Mendez here.“

“Maneuver over to sector six and see what Ruben is jabbering about. He thinks he's found something."

I rolled my eyes. “Yes ma'am. Maybe this time he won't wet himself.”

I heard a faint laughing on her end before she said, “Just make sure you pack up before 0600, James. Giles says that the comet will go Coma around that time.”

I checked my chronographic readout and frowned. "Only twenty-six minutes, Rach. Is that gonna be enough time?"

"I just relay what I'm told. I don't ask questions. Apparently they think it worth a look. Just hurry."

"Right." My com switched off. I tapped a series of controls on my space suit and fired my thrusters. I floated along the comet's nucleus. The surface was composed mainly of ice, but there were fragments of other elements that I had yet to identify. Shards and spikes of the frozen stuff jutted out at me as though daring me to get close. Fortunately, I could operate the interstellar drill while floating a good fifty meters from the surface.

I arrived at sector six a few minutes later. Benson and Ruben were examining something through the portable electron microscope.

“What is it?”

They looked up at me as I maneuvered my suit next to them. “James! Take a look at this and tell me what you make of it,” Ruben said.

Ruben was always getting himself hyped up over things that really had little to no significance, but since we were about to leave anyway, I decided to humor him.

What I saw in the microscope, however, was far from insignificant. “The hell?”

“I know right?!” Ruben's voice couldn't have been any giddier. “I think we may have something big here!"

I grunted my acknowledgment of his words, but I wasn't really listening. This didn't make any sense. I radioed Ayala.

“Rach, I think we've got something but I can't make heads or tails of it.”

“You're gonna have to give me the quick version of it James. It's about time to get going."

“I know. Here just tap into my space feed and see for yourself.”

There was a brief silence while Ayala looked.

“I think we're gonna need some time to make sense of this,” I said.

I heard her sigh. “James you don't have it. Your team and the equipment won't survive if the comet goes Coma. Take some quick samples and then get the hell out of there.” There was so much reluctance in her voice that I wasn't even mad at her for saying it, but I also wasn't about to let something like this go.

I turned to my team. “We have to pack up. The comet's about to go Coma."

Ruben looked mortified. "What? No! Don't you realize what we just found?”

“I realize that Ruben, and I'm gonna take care of it, but I can't explain right now." I began punching buttons on my suit to recalibrate it for what I was about to do. “You guys start packing up and get ready for the drop ship."

“But what are you gonna—“

“I don't have time to explain. Just follow my orders. Trust me."

I didn't wait for them to comply. I was too worried about what was coming next. God I hope this works.

The drop ship was automated, thank God for that. Otherwise Ayala would be on my ass the moment they realized that I wasn't on the ship. She would be on my ass regardless, but I reasoned that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Benson and Ruben glanced back at me before they boarded. Then the ship left just as the coma started forming. A swirling mass of blue gasses formed around the comet's nucleus as the ice started melting. My temperature gauge shot from negative two-hundred twenty to positive five hundred-forty. The outer surface split into millions of fragments releasing more blue gases.

“Mendez! What the hell are you doing!” Ayala yelled into my ear.

“You’ll thank me for this I promise!"

“James! You’ve never done a Star Jump before! You’ll be killed" There seemed to be genuine concern in her voice this time.

She was right of course, but I ignored her. I knew enough about the principle that I figure that I could pull it off.

I opened up my intake valves and collected as much dust as I dared, but I wouldn't need to release it for a special effect. This was about keeping the dust contained to be studied. I maneuvered deeper into the coma, found a suitable pocket of gas, and angled into the right position.

My last thought was that I had just become as stupid as Balls-of-Steel Neil before I fired my thrusters and blasted off into nothingness.