The Crestwood Expedition

By: Pete

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Again, Hartson’s vitals were the first to return to normal. He guessed Crestwood would be next, followed in turn by Matheson, Trindle, Chan, and Ribolowski. Each of the past two episodes had followed the same course, with variances in the seconds, not minutes. No doubt Trindle would research the physiological nature of the consistency with which the six bodies reacted to being awakened from deep sleep. Crestwood was noticeably angered by the second incident, so Hartson was not looking forward to the third.  If the pattern held - and there was no reason to expect that it would not, Crestwood would awaken in about sixteen minutes. Hartson would have seven minutes alone with the captain before Matheson came around and the system analysis would start. Hartson removed the last of the various electrodes from his body and unlatched the pod that was to have served as a bed for seven years of uninterrupted sleep. This was the third time since they set course for Partisia 7 that their “uninterrupted sleep” had been interrupted. The vessel, Chan’s Transgalactica, was designed to awaken all crew if the course coordinates were altered. The awakening process was reliant on individual biofeedback and took anywhere from one hour and seven minutes for Hartson to one hour and forty-six minutes for Ribolowski.

Hartson sat on the edge of his pod, adjusting to his body anew. He fingered a set of tassels that he pulled from his shirt pocket. He had not bothered to check the ship’s coordinates as he had the first two times. He was certain they would be in nearly the same position as in each of the last two episodes. He imagined that to a being far removed from the Milky Way, Transgalactica must have looked like a yo-yo. Darting away from the galaxy only to be tugged back as if on a string. The other scientists would awaken, check monitors, argue among themselves, and – for the most part – ignore Harston. Thaddeus Eugene Hartson, Neurologist, Historian, Thought Ethicist, and son of the late Global Senator Eugene Cornelius Hartson, now knew what was causing their difficulty. He did not look forward to explaining it to the rest of the crew. Their mission would be scrapped on account of his information, on account of him. And his selection as Mission Ethicist, questioned by many as a result of his father’s extreme resistance to the expedition, would come back to haunt him in a big way.

Hartson wondered if Chan’s vessel would be able to figure out what he knew, would link the course diversion to his own R.E.M. sleep. Knowing Chan, it would not surprise him if the biofeedback pattern was recognized as a common element in the three interruptions. But he doubted that Chan or anyone, except maybe his father, could have anticipated the importance of this link. In any event, he would point to his biofeedback as evidence of a truth the crew would probably treat skeptically. He had fought hard to become a member of this team, especially with his father. Now he would prove to be the mission’s undoing, harming the revived goal of space exploration severely. Hartson noticed the first signs of movement from Crestwood’s pod. In several minutes he would face the captain, and try to explain the dream that altered their course.

Senator Eugene Hartson was already considered among most revered men in all human history despite the fact that he had died only two months ago. As a historian, Thaddeus was generally suspicious of any man’s standing so soon after death. As a son, Thaddeus was torn between his father’s greatness and their late-life feud over the Crestwood Expedition. Senator Hartson was trained as an architect and was well regarded as such. His signature designs cover the world, none more famous than the Global Senate Building over which he presided until his death. (Thaddeus had read the trite anecdote of how his father chiseled Shakespeare’s words himself at least a hundred times since his father’s death.) The senator’s role as thinker grew out of his unparalleled understanding of the Thought Execution movement and its vast implications. The field of Thought Ethics grew around the senior Hartson as a necessity for societal advancement. Finally, the Global Senate, like the building they were housed in, was built of Eugene Hartson’s vision.

Thaddeus’ chosen scientific field was a natural offshoot of his father’s advanced thinking, as well. The younger Hartson was intrigued by how his father’s mind functioned and developed the dynamic neuro-scanning technology that served as his own scientific mark. Thaddeus developed the neurological fingerprinting system and synaptic mapping process that were hallmarks in understanding the Thought Execution process. Senator Hartson had the strongest synaptic mapping signature ever recorded. Most - including Thaddeus – equated this with intelligence. The senator was often referred to in the press as the ‘Smartest Man in History.’ The father often reminded his son that “intelligence per se was not worth a lick and, furthermore, that no historical conclusions could be made since synaptic mapping had only been practiced for twenty-odd years. Einstein’s probably still firing more rapidly than me and he’s been dead for two hundred years!” What nobody knew except Thaddeus was that he, the son, had the second strongest synaptic mapping signature ever recorded. Thaddeus destroyed his personal recordings as soon as he was confident they were correct.

Eugene Cornelius Hartson’s seminal work Living Thought Execution shaped the modern world. Thaddeus believed that if his father did not provide the historical context for Thought Execution, human choices would have been much different and the world would be compromised. Thaddeus actually believed that the world would have been destroyed at the hands of humans unable to understand the implications of Thought Execution. The premise was simple, opined so long ago by Shakespeare, and brought to reality by an international team of scientists. By controlling brainwaves anything imaginable was obtainable, that is: thinking makes it so. At first the premise worked in isolation and only by a handful of high-potential thinkers, later proven by Thaddeus to be the upper stratum of synaptic signatures. As the knowledge of Thought Execution grew, so did its prevalence. Before too many years, virtually everyone had Thought Execution capability.

The backdrop for this incredible advancement was a fractured world.  Nations pitted against nations. Scientific advancement weighted toward destruction. Poverty. Jealously. Apathy. Hatred. Fortunately, the voice of Eugene Hartson boomed. Nations realized the dangers inherent in Thought Execution and joined in selfless cooperation for the advancement of all. The genius of Hartson was to build a direct correlation to all cultures. His book built into a crescendo where each culture played an instrumental part in the successful achievement that is Thought Execution. Thaddeus’ father once told him in a hushed whisper that if the team of scientists had not been multi-national all bets would have been off. As it was, the world was successfully transformed, unified. Eugene Hartson was seen as the voice of reason in this transformation.

The world quickly improved. Unity replaced poverty, jealousy, apathy, and hatred. Science moved into a realm of focused advancement. And the world looked pleasantly different in a matter of months, not years. People were satisfied. The thought of working for individual sustenance was replaced with the thought of working for collective advancement. Science and research became the primary focus of most endeavors. The act of imagining new things became the focus of many individuals. Scientific thought flourished. Interestingly, as Eugene Hartson pointed out, religions grew as well. He often announced that his greatest satisfaction involved disproving Marx’s comments regarding the ‘opiate of the people.’ Thaddeus doubted that many people knew to whom or what he was referring. The arts grew as well, people being free to innovate. The area of Thought Ethics developed as a cultural safeguard, and served as the primary topic of the Global Senate.    

The conversations in the Senate regarding the Crestwood Expedition were tame compared to the ones that happened at home when Thaddeus announced his intention to seek the position of Mission Ethicist. The senator was adamantly opposed. “There is no societal benefit to space exploration!” the father shouted. “No reason at all why some of our best scientific minds should disappear into space, span thousands of light years with no purpose.”

“Exploration is good for us all. It can teach us things we do not know.”

“We know all we need to know without piercing the universe.”

“But the Crestwood Expedition will be the first to achieve warp speeds.”

“We achieved theoretical warp years ago! Do you forget your history?”

“This will be real!”

“It is all real, son!”

Thaddeus looked over his father’s shoulder to the plasma screen on the wall. His father, partly out of habit and partly to encourage his son to return to his neurological studies, kept the synapse monitor running when they were having discussions. The colors shot through the outline of his brain like lightening originating everywhere and limited only by the borders of his skull. The neural-connection-equivalent was registering over 56,000, approaching the highest level that Thaddeus had ever seen.

“I oppose the Crestwood Expedition in the Senate because it steals our focus. If you join the expedition it will undercut so many things for which we have worked.”

“For which you have worked!” Thaddeus regretted the statement as soon as he had made it. He knew his father was not motivated by any selfish interest. He also knew that his father meant society when he had said ‘we.’  Thaddeus was frustrated that his opinion was not registering with his father. The elder man dropped his head in his hands and let out a long sigh. Thaddeus’ voice softened. “Explain to me why it is not a good idea?” he asked his father. As he asked the question, he noticed the blackening of the screen behind his father. The blackening continued. At first Thaddeus thought it was the plasma screen itself that had gone bad. Then he realized that the outline of the brain was intact.

Thaddeus fingered the tassels as Crestwood unlocked his pod. He looked sadly at the captain. “These were from my father’s Senate robes. I’ve kept them with me since he died.”

“What do you know, Thaddeus?” asked the captain. It was clear to Crestwood that Hartson knew something of their plight.

“It’s me, Captain. We’ll never make Partisia 7 with me on board.”

“Why not?”

“There is a dream. My subconscious mind is pulling us home.”

“What?”

“I cannot not think it. Every time I sleep, Thought Execution turns us back. When the others awaken, they will confirm what I know - when I reach my R.E.M. cycle we are pulled off course.”

Captain Crestwood nodded his head in understanding. He did not get angry with Hartson. He knew that anger would serve no purpose. When the rest of the crew awakened, he would order the ship to return to earth. Crestwood would petition the Senate again, and hopefully return with a different crew. He smirked, thinking about how proud he felt to get approval for the expedition over the great Senator Hartson’s objection. It seems the senator managed to derail his trip after all - at least for now.

Crestwood started toward the control panel, stopped and caught Hartson’s eye. “Your father – I fought like crazy with him. I’ve always wanted to explore. And I’ll never understand his objection to exploration. But, I want you to know, I think your father was…is…the greatest man to have lived.” He patted Hartson’s shoulder as he walked away. 

As they set course for earth, a nine-hour journey, Hartson relived the dream over and over in his mind, awake this time. A child and his father, Thaddeus and the senator, constructed a building of blocks. Behind them danced a plasma screen displaying the rapid lightening that was his father’s synaptic firing. The father was wordlessly trying to demonstrate to the son the importance of each pillar in the construct. He mocked pulling away a pillar, and demonstrated with falling hands the chaos that would ensue if all of the parts were not held intact. The child seemed not to understand and continually reached at the tower. The father patiently moved the boy’s hand away and tried demonstrate the importance of the whole. The boy continued to reach  - until everything went black.