01: The Planetfall Miscalculation

The Planetfall Miscalculation

I.
The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet Unknown fate.
“Reading O. Henry again, are you?”
Griswold ignored the Virtual Intelligence. Sinking back in his chair, he closed his eyes as the observatory was veiled in silence. Bright words appeared on the hemispherical window that opened to the vast space beyond, describing the dimensions of the passing star system. The numbers briefly illuminated the room in white, blue, and yellow before fading back into the comforting darkness. He swirled his whiskey, listening to the rhythmic ringing of ice on glass.
“You've been quiet, Gris.”
Despite the artificiality of a Virtual Intelligence, her voice was oddly soothing.
“Tell me a story, Vienna.” Gris opened his eyes, meditating on the distant star system.
“You know I can only share as many adventures as you have had on this ship,” Her voice echoed through the observatory, seemingly coming from all directions. “My memory goes as far back as my implementation into the ship’s systems shortly before launch: nothing more, nothing less. You are an Aeternum, Gris, capable of an eternal life. You have seen and experienced Earth. I'm interested in learning more of it.”
Gris set down his whiskey, closed the book, and rose from his seat. He shuffled towards the thick window and rested his forehead against it.
“You've always avoided my inquiries of Earth, Gris.”
“Vienna, you don't have a sense of time. You don't have human longing. You don't have love or hate or desperation. Do not press me.”
“I may not exhibit such feelings typical of man, but I am able to understand them. You are frustrated, desperate, longing for something that can't come soon enough. I can feel that.”
“You've tried too often to comfort me. Do you know when enough is enough?”
“I am here to ensure a successful transition to a new world, Gris. Over the last hundred years, you've restricted many of my personal functionalities, but do not prevent me from helping you with this.”
Gris chuckled, pressing the side of his face to the cold window.
“Would you like me to analyze you for causes of your headache?”
Gris strolled back to his chair, sinking into the warm leather. “Why do you worry about me?”
“You know the answer to this question, Gris. I need to ensure your mental and physical health before planetfall protocols. People depend on you.”
“Planetfall isn't for another year and three months.”
"Analyzing your current condition, you'll need every minute of that.”
“Vienna, I did not give you permission to scan me..."
“You'll thank me later, Gris.”
He lifted the drink to his lips, observing the passing asteroid. Bright numbers reappeared on the window, showing its trajectory, heat, and velocity. This was the literature of the great ship. This was the literature of the hundreds of thousands of exiles born and raised in the desolation of space: experimentation, analysis, calculation, prediction. But it wasn't Gris’s. He picked up O. Henry’s novel, flipped to his bookmark, and let the stories of a world far behind him pull him into a deep sleep.


Blaring sirens woke Gris. The peaceful observatory now flashed with red lights in rhythm with the siren's pulse. As Gris jumped to his feet, an ear shattering blast sent him sprawling across the room like a toy thrown in a fit of anger.
"Vienna, talk to me!" Gris rolled to his side, only to shriek with pain as he put pressure on his shattered arm. "Vienna! What is goi..."
A second blast flung his broken body into the opposite wall. Gris looked up in shock as he noticed a growing crack in the observatory window, but what he saw beyond it disturbed him even more. A red and blue world filled his view as the bright numbers reappeared:
Planet: Postantera Distance: 1,003 km
Gris shook with fear as he read the final two lines.
Ship Velocity: 9,881 km/h Time Until Impact: 0 yrs, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 9 minutes, 43 seconds