ZOETROPE/Issue 1
This newsletter sponsored by The Long Journey Home; the ultimate space adventure RPG. Coming soon…
Hey-hey. Zoe Creed here, coming to you from the International Astronaut Training Centre in Cologne. If you’ve been following my videos over on ZOETROPE - and if not, why the hell not? Go watch ‘em, I’ll wait - you’ll know I’ve been in basic training with the rest of Team Daedalus as we prepare for next year’s mission. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Six months, for what, just 24 hours worth of space-time? Hell yes, I say. We’re talking being one of the first twelve human beings to get up close and personal with Alpha Centauri, AND stick it to my old physics prof for a D that I won’t lie, I’m still kinda bitter about. Good thing I’m not the kind of gal who holds a grudge. Mrs. Welch.
Anyways, thanks for subscribing. Every week, I’ll be bringing you the latest on the people and events as we prepare for what IASA’s marketing peeps tell me I’m supposed to call an ‘unprecedented moment in the history of our species’ development’. Go check out the ZOETROPE archives on VirrTube for all the latest vids and 360 degree pics I’ve been shooting, and ping me any questions or things you’d like to hear about at
deepspacezoe@gmail.com
And now… ONWARDS!
- ZC / October 18, 2066
INTERVIEW - SIOBHAN HARTIGAN, ARCHEOLOGIST
Doctor Siobhan Hartigan has had something of a controversial career, being praised as the savior of as many crucial ancient relics as she’s been accused of ‘liberating’ from some of the world’s most dangerous archaeological sites. With the backing of the Minerva Consortium, she’s led teams into Iraq, Afghanistan, and into the Korean DMZ. Where next, but Alpha Centauri?
ZOETROPE: So, tell me about your most recent trip. Iran, right?
HARTIGAN: That’s right. Not my smartest decision! Minerva’s geo-mapping is getting pretty good at locating sites via satellite, and this one wasn’t far off the old town of Susa. Now, you know the fighting round there of late, but we figured we could get in, check it out, and get out while the insurgency was busy. Not so much. Not sure when we got made, but around 3AM two days later a patrol just happened to swing by and… well, things got unpleasant.
Z: Unpleasant as in…
H: Could have been a lot more unpleasant. Luckily we were all sleeping with guns under our pillows and had hired some very big security guys. Managed to stalemate things at least until we could talk everyone down, but I won’t lie. Spent several hours behind a half-excavated statue of Inanna thinking the bullets were going to start flying at any moment. Wouldn’t have been my first shoot-out. Thankfully got out of the last one with just a few scars.
Z: Jeez. Is that what you expected when you became an archaeologist?
H: Expected? More like hoped, a little. If you want a safe life, go dig up Bath or somewhere. Me, I had the best role-models growing up. Indy. Lara. Adele Blanc-Sec. I wanted to be Lara so badly. Even practiced that iconic dive in our local pool. Never could get it right. Always ended up back on the surface, choking. Still, she taught me a lot about getting into trouble as a kid, and I guess that need to get into a bit of trouble never really went away. “Adventures”, I called them. Just me and my backpack against the world.
Z: I’m guessing there weren’t many ancient temples to raid near… what part of Ireland was this?
H: Cork. And no, not so much. That’s okay. I made my own my own. Like, one time I decided I was going to raid the teacher’s lounge at my school and steal their biscuits… sorry, I mean, The Bourbons of Destiny. So, I hid by the bushes, all this exciting action music playing in my head. When they went to assembly I went up to the door and opened it. Snuck past the music teacher who was already snoozing in his chair and there. Mission complete, and victory tasted sweet. Except then I heard the door opening. The whole lot of them coming back and me with crumbs still on my lips. Had no choice- dived under their sofa. Was stuck there all day. Might have been stuck there all night if the caretaker’s brush hadn’t caught me a whack to the ribs while sweeping up.
Z: Ha! How much trouble did you get into for that one?
H: Not enough. At least, not enough that two weeks later I didn’t try sneaking into the military camp just outside of town. We’re talking guards with guns, spotlights, dogs… anyway, a fourteen year old girl trying to break in went about as well as you’d think. Luckily they thought it was funny. Gave me some orange squash along with the bollocking and a lift back to town without calling my parents. Thank Christ. Not sure how long I’d have been grounded if they’d heard about it back then. I’d probably be getting out sometime around now…
Z: Doesn’t sound like it taught you much of a lesson though.
H: It taught me to be a bit more careful. Not quite so ambitious, without a proper plan. In any case, we moved to South Africa not long after that for my father’s work and. That’s where I realized I actually liked the archaeology side of being an archaeologist. Travelling the world. Finding treasures, valuable or not. Solving puzzles. I love good puzzles. True, in our line of work it’s mostly the likes of ‘who would have drunk from this cup?’ and ‘why are there five hundred arrow-heads here but no sign of a battle?’, but I’ll take it.
I guess it didn’t hurt that was it was the archaeologists who let me tag along on a local dig who really told me how badass the real ones can be, even without a whip or cannonball tits. You know Indy was largely based on a real guy? Or the history of the Bone Wars? And what really got me was hearing about some of the women. I’m talking Gertrude Bell, Lady Hester Stanhope, Jane Dieulafoy - Read their stories. I mean it. Whenever I’m up to my knees in a shit-filled ditch or dealing with some guy who doesn’t know how to talk to someone without a dick swinging between their legs, or the few times I’ve looked right down the barrel of a gun, I’ve taken great satisfaction in being in their footsteps.
Z: And nothing’s ever made you think of jacking it in?
H:
Bonekickers, maybe…
Z: Brrr. So, the obvious question I’m sure readers are thinking. What’s the role of an archaeologist in space? Isn’t your specialty kindof on the other side of history?
H: The simple fact is that the universe is older than we can possibly imagine, and if there is sentient life out there, the odds of it all being around at the same time is… no. Just, no. A million cultures could have risen and fallen before we made it out of the trees, and their secrets buried just as deeply as our own. The things we could find! One single piece of precursor technology could jump our whole civilization ahead by millennia. A cultural artifact could tell us more of the universe than any sensor or scanner ever could. Perhaps the galaxy is nothing but dust and ash. But can we really take that chance?
Z: And if it’s protected by alien traps, temples, robot guardians and the like?
H: Ha! Just try and hold me back…
Z: Awesome. Thank you for your time.
VIEWER MAIL
This week, a question from Robin Isles of England, asking:
“Hi Zoe. I know you probably can’t be too specific, but how fast is the Daedalus-7’s engine compared to the jump drive? Don’t we have enough to explore closer to home?”
Hey Robin. Good question! The exact safe cruising speed of the KNOSSOS drive - that’s the main/system/impulse drive, in case you don’t know - is still being worked out. At the moment though, Professor Lebedev tells me it maxes out at 6AU/hour, with a recommended cruise speed of 2 or 3 AUs per hour, depending on the nature of the system you’re navigating, radiation levels, gravity, and all of that other fun hoopy space stuff. More than that for a prolonged and you’re at risk of shaking the whole ship apart around you, and giving the inertial dampeners a seriously bad day.
Now, AUs? That’s not 6 Australias we’re talking, but Astral Units. One Astral Unit is the distance from the Sun to the Earth, more or less. So, how does this compare? If you were to head out right now and sign up for a tour of duty on the Schiaparelli mining bases on Mars, you’d be looking at a week’s not particularly comfortable travel. With the KNOSSOS drive, you’d be there faster than taking the Atlantic hoverrail. Unfortunately right now the building and operation of the thing costs far too much for it to be commercially viable, so, basically, still pack your VR headsets. It’s going to be at least ten years.
Anyway. To get to another star? Our nearest neighbour, Alpha Centauri, is 4.367 light years away. That’s roughly 271,000 AU. If we say 3 AU/hour, that gives us 90,333 hours, which when divided by 24… divided by 365 to keep it clean… a hell of a long trip, put it that way, with nowhere to pick up food. The Daedalus drive meanwhile uses space-folding technology to accomplish that in again, a matter of hours. The only catch? You can’t just jump anywhere. There’s got to be a sun’s gravity well to lock onto for the length of the fold.
What happens if you lose lock while space folding?
I… don’t know. I don’t *want* to know.
But if there’s anything *you* want to know, about the mission, the technology, or the people leading - one second, what was it? Ah, yes, this ‘unprecedented moment in the history of our species’ development’.
I’ll get that memorized right soon, I’m sure.
Remember, all your questions:
deepspacezoe@gmail.com
FINAL NOTES
That’s it from me this week. I’m typing this in my room to try and distract myself from the fact that this afternoon, we’re all being sent for our turn on the dreaded Vomit Comet. I can’t tell from the expressions whether this is an essential part of training, or just hazing from the ‘real’ astronauts. I guess I’ll let you know next time, if I survive, with or without dignity intact. Either way, you know where to catch the footage in all its barfy goodness.
Just, please, no new memes, okay?
(Yeah. I’m absolutely positive that’ll do it.)
That was Zoe. Signing off.