I found myself thinking about Beckman (one of my favorite characters to write) and a short edited-out scene in Bernard’s Promise where the crew was interviewed. In it, Beckman responded to the question “What do you do here on the ship?” with the answer “My job.” There are many scenes which ended up on the cutting room floor, and I thought it’d be fun to share a few.
ORIGINAL BEGINNING OF CHAPTER 6: 18 DAYS
Hitoshi pauses at the entrance to the Sandpiper, looking up at the polarized blue and painted-on clouds of the brisk October sky. He closes his eyes, inhales the cool air and feels the warmth of the sun on his face. Someone’s hand sets softly upon his left shoulder and he turns. Ava waits with a gentle smile. Like him, she wears a Hayden-Pratt flight suit with mission patches on the sleeve. The newest sits in the top location, illustrated with two yellow stars and a single red dot crossed by four curved lines - Riggs Mission #59, Centauri. Ava inhales deeply and closes her eyes a moment before looking back at Hitoshi.
“Feels a little anti-climatic,” Hitoshi says. “I was at least hoping to get to use my slow-motion heroic walk and wave.”
Ava squints. “Yeah, I know. Feels like there should be cheering crowds or something.”
“Better that we launched from here. I’d be all nerves if it was someplace public.”
Isaac passes by them. “Tower’s live-streaming guys, if you want to wave or something.” He tilts his watch. On the screen, a miniature version of the Sandpiper plays.
“Really?” Hitoshi says. “Well in that case…” He reaches into his flight suit pocket and produces a pair of sunglasses, striding to the Sandpiper with a confident spring in his step. When he reaches the entryway he pauses with one hand on the doorframe. Producing his best smile, he looks over his shoulder and waves slowly at the tower.
Ava arrives behind him. “Wow. You looked very James-ish right there.”
Hitoshi speaks without breaking his smile. “I’ve been practicing.” He gives a thumbs up to the camera and tilts his head.
When he steps inside the Sandpiper, everyone has settled into his seat. Beckman and Willow are closest to the cockpit, followed by Julian, Isaac and Ava. The royal blue of Willow’s flight suit catches his eye. Before, when they assembled at the airport, he noticed the U.S. flag and circular Department of State eagle logo over her left chest pocket. It made sense, he thought. She’s not a Hayden-Pratt employee. She’s here to represent.
ORIGINAL END OF DAY 1 IN 18 DAYS
In James’s slate, Isaac smiles, orbital schematics sitting behind him. “Hi everyone,” he says, fidgeting. “Isaac Cartwright. Astrophysicist and navigator, specializing in planetary science. My job is to figure out how the worlds work which we find. It’s pretty cool. I like it a lot.” He waves. “Hi mom.”
Next is Ava. She smiles and is at ease before the camera. “I’m doctor Ava Kelly, mission xenobiologist. If we find life—and I think there’s a good chance we will—I’ll figure out what it is and how we can talk with it.”
When Julian is on camera, he looks and smiles like a model. He seems aware of his best camera angle and positions himself appropriately. When he speaks, it’s with a native French accent. “Julian Laurent, ship’s physician. My job is to keep everyone healthy during our journey. I’m learning more about xenobiology from Doctor Kelly, and may help her determine how any life we finds works.” He holds his hand over his heart. “I miss you, Celeste.”
Beckman simply says, “Beckman,” and glowers at the camera.
“Maybe tell them a little bit about what you do,” James says off camera.
“I do my job,” Beckman says.
“How about your title?”
Beckmam sighs. “Guthrie Beckman, operational security and drone specialist. If we launch it, I’ll track it. We get in trouble, I’ll take care of it.” He looks above the camera. “We good?”
“Thanks, Beckman,” James says.
When Willow is on camera, she’s poised and professional. “Hello everyone. I’m Willow Parker, Special Envoy and Coordinator for Space Affairs, U.S Department of State. Doctor Kelly spoke about the potential for finding intelligent life. If we find it, I’ll help determine what to say. There’s plenty to do on a starship and we all have more than one job, so I’ll also be operating communications for the trip.”
Hitoshi is excited for his turn, his arm slung casually over his workstation’s chair. He gives a strangely polished grin. When he speaks, James notices that he’s lowered the pitch of his voice a notch. “Hi. Hitoshi Matsushita. Chief Engineer for the Riggs program.” He points a finger towards the ceiling. “I know Promise like the back of my hand. Going to keep everything ship-shape for our trek into the wild frontier. If anything breaks, you can count on me to make it better.”
Ananke’s screen is its usual serene blue. “I am Ananke. I co-invented the Riggs drive with Bernard Riggs. I’m honored to be a part of the maiden voyage for the ship which bears his name. I’ll be the co-pilot for this journey, operating the ship when the crew is asleep and backing up James when the Riggs drive is engaged. As James would say, keep dreaming big, everyone.”
Lastly, James turns the camera around to himself. “James Hayden here. You guys know me. I’ll be the pilot, but I’m just one part of the team that makes it all work. Today’s not only my dream, it’s our dream. There’s three hundred billion stars waiting for us, and today we’re going to start on number one.”
FROM CHAPTER 5: 91 MINUTES
The Pintail slices through the crisp March sky, shedding contrails into wispy cirrus clouds. The blue band of Earth’s atmosphere fades into inky black marred by the Sun’s glare. James is in the pilot’s seat with Willow beside him.
Comms chimes. “Pintail Nine Three Foxtrot, cleared LEO Sierra Bravo transit. Climb and maintain three four zero.”
The navcon flags a dozen transorbital commercial flight trajectories as they enter the busiest part of low Earth orbit. As they continue to climb, the shell of traffic thins. When they near an altitude of three-hundred-and-forty kilometers, an alert chimes. Notice to airmen: Restricted Space R34 - Special Military Use. Contact Perseus on channel M34 for clearance requests. On his map, Bernard’s Promise floats in the center of the restricted space ellipsoid. The heavy assault cruiser U.N. Perseus flies five kilometers off Promise’s starboard bough.
James dials channel M34 on com2. “Perseus approach, Pintail Nine Three Foxtrot, level three four zero, fifty kilometers west, request clearance to transit Romeo 34 for Bernard’s Promise flyby. Be advised that Special Envoy Parker is on board.”
“Pintail Nine Three Foxtrot,” Perseus approach says, “cleared Romeo 34 for Bernard’s Promise flyby. Acknowledged U.S. State Department personnel present.”
“Have to give you a hand,” James says to Willow. “Your name does unlock a lot of doors.”
Up ahead, one of the stars blinks red and white. As it grows larger, the silhouette of a bulbous shape emerges backlit by the brilliant blues of Earth. The U.N. Perseus is a dark monster coasting one click to their port.
“Still not sure if that warship’s here to keep Promise safe or to light it up if I try anything funny,” James says.
“There’s always some level of protest with controversial topics,” Willow says. “Those with the strongest feelings can present security risks.” She pauses. “And there are some key players who need assurances in exchange for building here.”
“Right. So, both.”
“Give a little, take a little, and everyone wins.”
Beyond the warship, the brightly-lit construction ring is like a stadium in space. Bernard’s Promise is a semi-ellipse bathed in Earthshine, the aft tapering to a trapezoid. Four angled aerodynamic nacelles extend from the port and starboard sides, the outer surfaces painted with matte black rectangles. Ablative armor, just like the Perseus. Sections of each nacelle are incomplete, awaiting the future installation of the RF engines. Most of the aft section is an incomplete puzzle of structural beams and hull plates. On the front, a few hull plates have been removed in the area surrounding the two forward laser emitters.
“She’s a beauty,” Willow says. “Something the world’s never seen.”
James taps the controls and the Pintail glides five-hundred meters in front of the starship. “I’ve got a hell of a team. You know, what I love about Promise is that she was designed by her crew. Everyone got a shot at putting his unique vision into it. It’s everyone’s dream ship.”
“But there are still hearts to win. Have you been following the polls?”
The construction ring’s lights fall behind them over James’s left shoulder. He says, “I try not to get too hung up in social media. Lots of opinions flying around. Better than no one discussing it, though.”
“True, but currently they’re split evenly for and against the trip.”
He gives her a sideways grin. “I do my best work in the margins.”
“You should consider doing another promo, like the Jupiter one last year with the keep dreaming big sign. That was brilliant.”
“Right, sure.”
“I have a meeting with my U.N. counterpart on Monday and we’ll be discussing first contact policies. We may need to meet with Dr. Kelly and Cartwright, depending on how the discussion goes.”
“I’m sure Ava and Isaac would be happy to talk it.”
“There’s still a little swirl around that topic.”
James glances at her. “How’s that?”
“After the Silver Stars encounter, everyone’s realized that you could end up being Earth’s ambassadors.”
“Well, we’ll make sure we comb our hair and brush our teeth.”
Willow smiles. “Your first contact protocols are scientifically sound, but they’re about how to say something, not what to say.”
“I trust Ava,” James says.
“Something to be aware of. We’ve gotten this far. The next hurdle will be clearances.”
Comms chimes. “Pintail Nine Three Foxtrot, contact LEO Sierra Bravo Center. Monitor this frequency until clear of Romeo 34.”
James keys the mic. “Over to center, monitor until clear, Nine Three Foxtrot.” He looks over to Willow. “That’s our cue to get out of Dodge.”
“Well, this was a fun way to spend a Monday. The Space Command screens don’t do it justice once you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”
“Bottle that feeling and sell it to the U.N.,” James says.
FROM CHAPTER 3: WAKING DREAMS
The Skyline LEO laboratory is a white metallic starfish orbiting the Earth at 7.8 kilometers per second. Bernard and Ananke have rented space in the appropriately-named Hawking suite. As the lab slips into the blinding white sunlight, they watch from their remote connection in Pasadena. One gram of carbon atoms floats weightlessly in the g-wave array.
Bernard is in his ambulatory suit. Despite it’s name, it’s not terribly bulky, about the size and weight of a heavy jumpsuit, walking for him when he needs it and supporting his arms and hands. Currently he has it configured as a chair.
Ananke speaks as she reads the display. “Wave initiation in three, two, one, initiate.”
The carbon sphere pops like a firework. When replayed in ultra-slow-motion, the sphere swirls and distorts, shrinks to nothing, and reappears in a flash, offset from its original position.
“Distance traveled,” Ananke says. “One-point-two-one meters. Relative velocity, fifty-one percent light-speed.”
Bernard laughs. “And we are officially reproducible,” he says, his words slurred. “Do you know what this means?”
Ananke’s screen ripples orange and red. “We can publish.”
“That’s right,” he says. “The first Ananke-Riggs paper. I like the sound of it.”
* * * *
Ananke glows from a slate mounted on a desk in Bernard’s home. Pasadena is a sea of colorful lights twinkling through the living room’s windows. In the room’s corner rests a black grand piano, its lid closed and used as a photo shelf. Bernard is eighteen in the pictures, wearing a tuxedo, standing on stage in front of the same piano. His smile is infectious. Other family photos cover the desk, including one of Bernard and his father. In all this time his father’s never visited, and she hasn’t heard Bernard speak about him. On the piano easel rests a printed sheet music book. Apogee in G, Bernard Riggs. Bernard’s cleverness is ubiquitous.
Scattered around the room are automated implements to help him with daily life. The house monitors Bernard and will get help if needed, but Ananke prefers to be here. He’s welcomed her to stay over whenever she wants, and she spends her nights, like now, ensuring he’s okay. It’s 2076 and he’s beat the five-year survival rate.
Besides, tomorrow’s an important day for them both.
Hope you enjoyed the peak behind the scenes. As a writer, it’s always hard choosing what to cut. It reminds me of my Magic: The Gathering card game days, where you had to make a 60-card deck choosing from thousands of cards. Every card felt invaluable, but in the end, you did it.
Thanks as always for following my stories, and stay tuned for further space adventures.