Some people like their egg hard boiled for breakfast and
some like them soft. Thedeus liked his egg boiled for exactly three and a half
minutes so that he could dunk his toast fingers in the runny yellow yolk –
because that’s the way his mommy had made them for him ever since he could
remember. And because these breakfast eggs were unconsciously associated in his
mind with early morning cuddles and kisses and a general feeling of well-being,
Thedeus still had an inordinate fondness for a soft boiled egg.
In fact, his daily good humour depended on the state of
his egg. If it was too cold, or too hard to dip, it would set him in a mood of
unrequitement, if not downright dissatisfaction. But he never suspected that
his daily happiness hinged on an egg timer watched by a mother’s loving eyes.
Only she knew it, and if she got his day started right, he invariably had a
wonderful time. If she didn’t, he would sometimes even come home in tears,
having been punished by his teacher for being inattentive, or fighting in the
playground. Even in later life he would return with tales of woe after a bad
start to the day.
Now, knowing how important it was to boil her son’s
breakfast egg for exactly the right amount of time, she tried to pass this
valuable information on to the woman who was going to take over her role, the
one who was going to look after him from now on.
Unfortunately, this woman had never cooked an egg in her
life, nor anything else for that matter, and even though she was a career woman
and would always have someone to cook for them, she still couldn’t help but
feel she wasn’t quite the perfect wife, and as a result she was a bit defensive
about her shortcomings in the kitchen.
So when Mrs Darck broached the subject, in the nicest
possible way, (after long deliberation and carefully choosing the right words
so as not to offend) it sorely pricked April’s pride and vanity and the girl
actually ‘Humphed’ in indignation and flounced her firm flesh out of the room.
Mrs Darck was mortified beyond words. She hadn’t expected plain sailing but his
was a disaster. She actually tried to bite her tongue in remorse for what she’d
done. True, during the voyage out the ladies hadn’t taken to each other in the
way that Thedeus had hoped, but they had reserved their natural judgement of
each other for his sake and been kindly polite to one another. Now the heavy
atmosphere between the two could be cut with a knife and Rose was sure the
entire ship felt it. April became tight faced and silent towards Rose. She
wasn’t a malicious girl – she was just hurt, and felt that her mother-in-law
was unfairly criticising her. Rose spent most of her time in her cabin writing
note after abortive note of apology and then crumpling them up in a little heap
of hopelessness and crying her heart out. Thedeus was too busy training and
attending briefings to notice anything wrong.
Although both women were desperate to make amends, neither
knew how, and they continued to avoid eye contact on those occasions when their
paths crossed. For every agonising moment of that three month journey, both
women tiptoed on eggs round each other.
N
But thankfully the voyage was soon over and shortly after
their arrival on G.O.D. 5 the new commander and his bride were looking proudly out
from the observation deck upon the vessel that was to take them on the greatest
adventure the world has ever known.
The ship was a clean Conex Tri-hull in ivory white with
looping struts and connectors that resembled a three-dimensional lacework
filigree woven between the elegant slim-line hyper-drive engines and the hull that
housed the flight deck, cabins and the various lavish and comprehensive
facilities for the 12 man crew needed to run it. The outside sensors, weapons,
and radar arrays were all seamlessly integrated into the drive rocket housing.
The Z-class Chaser was a super-streamlined ship of the future. Nothing like it
had ever been seen before: a triumph of modern technology. It was the fastest,
most well equipped space ship mankind could conceive of. Built of the latest
and most exotic alloys and materials, equipped with instruments and weapons not
yet conceived of in the public domain; it was well balanced, flexible, awesomely
armed, and very strong. It was, in short, built to withstand Armageddon. The
engineers had no doubt that it would cope with the wormhole quite adequately.
The minister for Space and Defence made sure that the public knew this too. The
praises for the ship were sung far and wide. Her tests had been extensive and
gruelling: now she lay silently resting against her berth on G.O.D. 5, awaiting
the crew that would take her on her maiden voyage. They called her…‘Sleeping
Beauty’.
Behind the happy couple a farewell party was in full
swing. Family, friends, officials, dignitaries, well-wishers and crew were all
celebrating the coming launch of the rescue mission that would carry mankind to
beyond the frontiers of human imagination. This expedition had been in the
planning for many, many years, but public opinion had been strongly against
sending anyone down there. Many unmanned space probes had been despatched down
the funnel in the hope of gathering some information of what it was like on the
other side, but unfortunately none of them ever returned. And then, just recently, a Federation
distress-drone emerged from the wormhole. It carried comprehensive information
of an ore miner and his ship that had accidentally been drawn into the wormhole
some time before; charting his entire journey and even giving a detailed map of
the solar system in which he had found himself. Whether he was still alive or
not, they couldn’t tell. But the Federation finally had their reason to send in
an investigative team. The public just could not let a call for help go
unanswered: and if a broken down ore-liner could make it through the wormhole,
then so could they.
The music and laughter and general hysteria of the
revellers were starting to have an adverse effect on Rose. She felt
claustrophobic and headachy, and also a bit nauseous from the champagne. It was
always champagne; that’s all these people ever drank. She hated the stuff
because it gave her gas and made her feel tired. By some miracle she had found
a waiter who had managed to bring her a nice cup of tea. It was a lifesaver,
and just the action of stirring made her relax. It was something nice and
familiar; soothing. And she needed that. The voyage had been anything but a
pleasure cruise. She knew now it had been a terrible mistake to accompany the
married couple on their trip to G.O.D. 5, but the biggest mistake of all was
seeing the actual wormhole up close through the wide panoramic windows of the
observation post. No photograph or video would ever do it justice, nor did they
prepare Rose for the sheer size and power of that roiling tornado twisting
through space as if it was trying to suck in the universe. Even though it was
still some 5 million miles away, it covered most of the view in the window,
sucking at your senses. It was a monstrous sight.
At the mere thought of it Rose’s eyes were inadvertently
drawn to the wormhole again and at that moment she knew for a certainty that
she would never see her son again. With her guts twisting in agony, she took
her cup of tea and slipped away from the celebrations. Once out the door she
walked blindly down one twisting corridor after the other, trying to escape the
dreadful nagging pain in her heart. Sometimes she would be stopped by a locked
door, but she just kept going until she was completely lost. Soon her legs had
begun to tremble from shock and exertion, and she desperately needed a place to
sit down. Her tea cup clattered in the saucer as she pushed open the first door
she came to next, and seeing the room was empty, she walked in and closed it
again.
She found herself in some kind of games room, empty but
for some benches along the window (always the window, she just couldn’t escape
the sight of the wormhole), some scuffed and faded white lines on the wooden
floors, a punch bag and a steel basket full of softballs. Keeping her eyes
averted from the monster outside, she walked over to the bench and sat down
facing inwards.
She sipped her tepid tea and slowly the knots in her stomach
began to unwind. She slipped her shoes off and placed her feet on the blessedly
cool floor. She knew they wouldn’t miss her for many hours. No-one missed her
much anymore. No-one ever came looking for her. She sighed a small sigh and
unconsciously let her eyes roam around the room, not thinking anything, just
taking in the strange environment. Finally she saw the basketball hoop hanging
from the wall and a hundred memories of her son flooded into her brain from all
the games she had watched him play. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to
cry again.
N
