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Lunar Base, Hangar

Starship Captain 80 strode into the massive cavity of the hangar bay, his chest out and his head high. He was disappointed, truth be told…the entire base should have been here to see the launching. Part of it was vanity, of course, he thought with a wry grin, but it was more than just his own desire for glory. Today, the Fuhrer's genius was to be reaffirmed…and not through some mere revolution of the candy industry either. Of course candy was valuable…it was the entire reason that the company and the Lunar Base and indeed 80 himself existed…but today's test would move the technology of the entire human race forward. That deserved acknowledgment, even if 80 and his crew did not. Ah well, 80 thought, once we pull this off, both my crew and the Fuhrer will get a parade.

Behind the Captain came the other five members of his crew: Interstellar Pilots 77 and 101; the Doctor, Research Physicist 18, who had insisted that he be aboard the test vessel himself to deal with any situation that might arise; and 18's two assistants, Research Associates 46 and 48. All of them were tense this morning, though they showed it in different ways. 77 and 101 were quiet and stoic, a product of their training; 46 and 48 were civilians, and so were far more openly nervous. The Doctor appeared completely calm, though he performed frequent and obsessive checks of his uniform and personal equipment. As for the Captain himself, he did not know exactly how he dealt with stress; he was certain that he probably had a personal tic or ritual of some kind, but he did not know what it was offhand. If he was honest with himself, he did feel some apprehension…but it did not stop him. Any fear of what might go wrong was outweighed a thousand times over by the pride he felt at being chosen for this mission. It was not every day that one was selected to captain a prototype vessel, especially one whose primary purpose was to test a device designed by the Fuhrer himself. 80 had been briefed on the theoretical specifications of the device in question, and what he had seen stunned him. From the Lunar Base to Alpha Centauri in two minutes…to the other side of the Galaxy in five weeks. It would be the fastest warp drive ever built, and not just by the Wonka Company either. Unless the world's governments had some piece of technology which they were holding in secret, the new drive would obliterate the prior, stumbling efforts of those NASA and ESA amateurs.

80 became aware that he was leaving his companions behind, walking rather more quickly than usual from a combination of nerves and enthusiasm…he and his men had also been briefed on what could potentially happen to them if the Drive malfunctioned, and it had not been pretty. But none of that's going to happen, he said to himself as he slowed down and allowed the other members of his team to catch up. The ship has been built to the most exact standards possible, under the Fuhrer's direct supervision. He relaxed and allowed himself a smile. There won't be any disasters today, only triumph. He turned to his crew, all of them completely silent as each of them contemplated what they were about to do. The Captain turned so that he was walking backward, and his smile broadened into a grin. "Come on now, gentlemen…what's the worst that could possibly happen?" There were a few smiles, both of the Research Associates looking more ill than amused. The small group of Oompa-Loompas reached the far corner of the hangar, rounded a row of docked transport ships…and then there she was.

Deepstar Five was not a large ship; her mass was slightly greater than that of an Aurora patrol destroyer, though she was rather longer and thinner. She most resembled a monstrous dragonfly, though wingless and a uniform gray in color. Her small bridge was located at the top of the rounded "head" at the front, which also contained the vessel's sensors and small living quarters; her central "thorax" held most of her mechanical systems, a tiny galley, and her cargo hold. The massive cylindrical shape of the new warp engine formed the extended "tail" at the rear; it was far more massive than a standard drive, but it was also far more powerful. If 80 was honest with himself, Deepstar Five was quite ugly, something that he had to admit even as her captain. Her two regular drive engines were mounted side-by-side in a pod atop her central module, adding to her ungainly appearance, and a small forest of sensor vanes jutted from her blunt nose. But like most experimental vessels, she was designed with functionality rather than looks in mind; she did not need to be pretty, simply to get the job done.

A large number of technicians were swarming around and over the ship, completing final preflight checks; as 80 and his team approached, the ground crew finished their tasks and stood off to one side to watch the ship launch. "She's all yours," the crew chief said, nodding respectfully to 80…the Captain returned the gesture, and stood off to one side of the ramp as the five other members of his crew boarded. He followed the two technicians, the last man aboard; at the top, he pressed the CLOSE button, and the ramp hissed shut behind him. Passing forward through the cargo hold, he made his way up a ladder to the flight deck, taking his seat in the center of the tiny, asymmetrical bridge. The two pilots were seated ahead of him, side by side at the main controls. The Doctor was seated slightly ahead of him on the Captain's right, facing forward at the main monitoring station for the warp drive. Research Associates 46 and 48 were seated on the Captain's left, facing the side wall of the bridge; their job was essentially technical support, correcting any problems that the Doctor identified. All six Oompa-Loompas were wearing full vacuum suits for this mission; while the protective gear would hardly help them if anything went wrong during the jump, it was still prudent to eliminate one more potential source of danger. Every eventuality had to be considered on a test flight.

"Bringing her up," IP-101 said. He and 77 were both flipping switches left and right as they woke Deepstar Five from her mechanical slumber. The vessel had only been out of dock twice before for her basic sublight navigation tests…this was to be her first real voyage.

"Standby for main engine start in three…two…one…mark," 77 announced calmly, and instantly a tremor shot through Deepstar Five's hull as her main ion drives began firing, the high-pitched whine of the motors audible from within the bridge.

"Warp engine has power," RA-46 reported. "Beginning pre-Jump diagnostics."

SC-80 turned to IP-101. "Open channel."

"Done, sir."

"Launch Control, this is Deepstar Five. We are go for launch. Awaiting authorization."

"Deepstar Five, you are clear to proceed. Inner docking bay doors open. Deactivating external shield now."

"Deepstar Five copies." Both of the pilots were looking back at the Captain; 80 looked from one of them to the other, and then nodded slowly. "Let's do it."

"Lifters, aye." Deepstar Five shivered slightly and then began to lift smoothly off the hangar floor, the technicians gathered below giving a mixture of waves and salutes as the ship turned and began hovering across the hangar toward the yawning mouth of the main airlock.

"In position for ascent, sir," 101 said, and Deepstar Five lifted toward the huge metal iris of the outer launch doors. The lower portal ground shut and sound died away as the air drained from the chamber; the outer doors opened, and Deepstar Five rose onto the lunar surface. A few Oompa-Loompas in spacesuits were working here and there, surface teams performing regular maintenance checks on the base's exterior; they turned to watch as this new and strange spacecraft turned and glided off smoothly into the void. A pair of patrolling Auroras dipped their wings and flashed their landing lights in acknowledgment, though they did not follow. There was little to fear in lunar orbit these days…more importantly, specific instructions had been given that Deepstar Five was not to be escorted. If she accidentally pulled one of the destroyers along in her wake, there would be no telling where along the journey the unfortunate ship might be spat out.

Earth to Alpha Centauri in two minutes. Is it even possible? Even the Fuhrer is not completely sure. SC-80 shook his head. I guess we're about to find out. He brought up the view from the aft camera in one corner of the transparent canopy/viewscreen which made up the front of the bridge, watching as the Moon and the Earth slowly drifted away into the blackness of space. It truly was a beautiful sight…while a veteran of dozens of missions aboard different ships, first as a pilot and now as a commander, SC-80 had never lost the wonder that he felt at the majesties of the universe. He continued to watch the rearward view as Deepstar Five cruised slowly along through the void for the next thirty minutes, placing a reasonable margin of space between herself and the Base before she jumped. What exactly would happen if the Drive overloaded was not clear, but it would not do to have it happening in close proximity to the company headquarters. The crew was quiet, the six Oompa-Loompas all lost in their own thoughts as they enjoyed these last few moments before the Jump. If everything went according to plan, they would be arriving at the Centauri coordinates after just over two minutes' travel time…a distance that light itself took four years to cover. And if something went wrong, well…there was no telling. But one could not dwell on that. Finally, a soft alert tone chimed, and IP-101 glanced back at the Captain. "We're clear of the Moon's gravitational field, sir. In position to Jump on your command."

80 nodded; now that the moment was actually here, his system was suddenly flooded by hard, cold adrenaline. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; when he let it out, he was all business. He turned to the two technicians on his left. "Gentlemen?"

RA-46 answered. "Everything looks good, Captain. All systems normal. Drive capacitors are charged and ready; power levels nominal."

80 glanced over at RP-18. "Doctor?"

"All green on my board, Captain. I noticed a small irregularity in the Drive's waveform signature a few minutes ago, but I managed to balance it out."

"Anything I should be worried about?"

"No. It's hardly surprising that we have some small degree of calibration error. We were well within safe parameters before; now we should be completely stable. Even if my adjustments aren't entirely correct, our exit won't be off by more than a thousand kilometers at the absolute most. Just don't put us right next to a black hole or anything."

80 grinned. "I wasn't planning on it, Doctor. 77, 101, everything normal?"

"Yes, Captain. Ready to rock."

Ready to rock? 80 sat back in his chair. "Very well. Get me base one more time."

The voice of OS-22 came back through the bridge speakers. "Yes, Captain?"

"We're in position to begin our run, sir."

"Excellent. We'll be waiting for you on the other side. Good luck, Captain."

"Thank you, sir." 80's eyes swept the bridge, taking in the expectant and nervous faces of his five crewmen. We're about to make the two most important minutes in this millennium of history. 80 smiled, the expression somewhat grim. "Well, for better or worse, gentlemen. Power up the Drive."

"Copy. Core is at forty percent…sixty…seventy-five…core charge complete. Local gravitational distortion detected…increasing steadily. All systems go. Just say the word, sir."

"Engage."

"Aye, sir. Commencing jump in five…four…three…two…one…" A circular pattern of lightning rippled in the empty void ahead, long tendrils of energy reaching around the ship…a glowing nexus of light steadily brightened at the heart of the lightning, growing as it intensified…the sphere of light stretched into a tunnel, a corridor of shimmering brilliance with nothing but the deepest blackness at its heart…the tunnel reached out and swallowed Deepstar Five whole, and then nothing was visible save for the blue-white walls of that endless tunnel, wavering like water. 80 had been holding his breath, and now blew it out in a tremendous sigh of relief. We managed to Jump successfully, at least. A timer appeared at the top of the viewscreen counting down…exactly one hundred and twenty-three seconds until Deepstar Five reached her destination. Spectacular bursts of color rippled in the walls of the subspace tunnel, brilliant and unnatural hues which were shocking to the eye; the entire crew was now watching in awe and apprehension as the dancing lights intensified rapidly. Ninety seconds. The warp corridor was now a shocking kaleidoscope display, whirling ever faster as it grew brighter and brighter. Sixty seconds. The viewscreen automatically polarized itself, but still the brilliant multicolored light blazed through, at once beautiful and terrifying. Thirty seconds. The swirling light was now moving so fast that individual colors were impossible to distinguish, the warp tunnel now resembling the inside of some stellar tornado. Colossal discharges of electricity flared along the walls, bolts of lightning a million kilometers long.

"Doctor?" 80's tone was grave…if so much as a single one of those discharges struck the ship…

"Nothing to worry about, Captain. Alarming, I know."

Fifteen seconds. Ten. "Stand by for Drive shutdown," 77 said. Five seconds…four…three…two…one…A brilliant jet of light suddenly burst from between the stars, Deepstar Five at its head; the warp tunnel collapsed in a swirling vortex and disappeared, and suddenly the ship was again cruising along through the normal blackness of space.

SC-80's face split into a broad grin. "Well, gentlemen, if nothing else…" His voice trailed off. The multiple suns of the Centauri system should have been blazing through the forward viewport, but there was nothing but the ordinary field of stars. There was no planet…or anything else to be seen. "Uh, I'm not missing something am I? I'm not seeing Alpha Centauri."

IP-101 spoke slowly. "No, sir. Performing visual check now." A smaller window in the corner of the main viewscreen was panning from one camera to the next, giving a smooth, continuous view all the way around the ship. On the aft camera, a distant orb came into view…clearly a planet.

"Did we overshoot?" the Doctor asked, his tone somewhat pleased rather than alarmed. "If that's Proxima B, then the Drive system is even faster than we thought. I'm sure I punched in the right heading, but…" His sentence trailed off as well.

"Even if that's our target," IP-77 said, "we should be looking at two stars in close proximity. Viewfinder only shows one, beyond the planet."

"Wait a minute," SC-80 said. He suddenly felt both alarmed…and incredibly stupid. "Run a position check and magnify that planet on the forward viewscreen." The image snapped into tighter focus, and there was silence on the bridge as the entire crew realized the obvious.

"That's…" RA-48 started to say.

"Earth." The Captain finished.

"Position check confirms," IP-101 said, both disappointment and confusion evident in his tone. "The computer has only changed our coordinates by a single thousandth. Our total movement wasn't more than a couple million kilometers."

SC-80 sat back in his seat, baffled; meanwhile, RP-18 was wildly punching keys at his terminal. The Doctor muttered quietly to himself. "It doesn't make any sense. We were in some state of warp for over two minutes…something must have malfunctioned. 46, 48, any readings from your board?"

"No, Doctor. According to diagnostics, everything's fine."

RP-18 shook his head and glanced over at the Captain. "I don't know what to say. I can't figure it."

"Should we attempt another Jump?"

"No. Seeing as the computer can't even determine where the problem is, I would recommend we power down the Drive and return to base. The Drive functions, in some sense, but we clearly have a problem. I'm just sorry the day ended like this."

"So am I. And don't worry, Doctor…I'm sure we'll be back out here soon. 101, get me a channel to the Lunar Base."

"Roger that…sir, I'm not getting any response."

"Interference?"

"I'm not sure. Possibly."

"Keep trying. 77, get us turned toward home."

"Aye, sir."

Deepstar Five quickly accelerated to full speed, Earth expanding steadily on the forward viewscreen as the ship headed back toward the Lunar Base. It was again quiet, though not from apprehension; the only voice was that of 101 as he fruitlessly continued to hail the facility.

"Captain, I can't get anything from Central."

"Have you run an equipment check?"

"Yes, sir. Diagnostics read clear, so I redirected the antenna toward Earth just to verify. I'm picking up background signals just fine; I just can't get anything from the Base."

Now what? SC-80 sat forward slightly in his chair. "Ping one of our navigational beacons. Let them know we're here."

"Yes, sir." 101 visibly paused. "Sir, there's no response from Traffic Control. I'm not reading a return ping from the beacon, either."

The Moon was dead ahead, Deepstar Five closing rapidly. A brief chill ran up the Captain's spine, though he kept his face impassive. What in hell was going on here? "Run a scan, please, 101. I sincerely hope we aren't trying to return to base in the middle of an enemy attack or something, but fate sometimes has a way about it. 77, take over on communications. Patch me through to one of the Earth facilities." The three civilian personnel were no longer concentrating on their own stations…both of the Research Assistants had turned their seats, watching the forward view with obvious apprehension…RP-18 had paused mid-calculation, his face arranged in an odd expression as he too watched the forward viewscreen.

77's voice came back first. "Captain, I have nothing on communications channels. Negative response from all facilities."

80 stood, his hands clasping themselves tightly behind his back. "Try again."

"Sir…"

"Just do it! 101?"

"Captain, I…" The fear was audible in the other Loompa's voice, and 80 felt dread settle in his stomach. "Captain, I have nothing on sensors."

"Define nothing."

"The computer confirms the location of the Lunar Base, but…it cannot confirm the existence of the Lunar Base, sir."

80 pressed a hand to his forehead. Was this a dream? "Move in and get me visual. I want to see the base, or at least where it should be."

"Understood." Deepstar Five fired her engines and settled into a rapid orbit of the Moon, her nose pointed directly toward the surface. No lights came into view…no faint outline of the protective shield. Deepstar Five halted and held a geosynchronous position, the ship's thrusters matching the exact speed of the Moon's rotation.

101 spoke, his voice quiet. "Sir, we are holding position over the exact center of the Lunar Base. The facility should be visible directly in front of the vehicle." The only thing visible, however, was the pockmarked gray surface of the Moon. The Captain's mind was whirling. It didn't make any sense…

"Oh, God!" RA-46 blurted the words, utter and complete terror audible. "This can't be happening! This can't be happening! They're DEAD! They're all…"

"STOW THAT!" The bellowed order came, not from the Captain, but from the Doctor. "Just calm down. I don't know what's going on…but I'm fairly certain that no one's died."

"But…"

"Trust me." RP-18 looked around at the rest of the bridge. "Let's think about this thing rationally. Captain?"

80 still could not accept what he was seeing. "There should be something…anything. Even if the Lunar Base was completely wiped out by a nuclear weapon, there would be a blast pattern…a crater…something. There's nothing at all, and the damned weird part is the fact that the surface looks like it's never been disturbed. If nothing else, we should be seeing material excavated during construction. 77, you said you couldn't raise any of the other facilities over the comm, yes?"

"Nothing at all, sir."

Against all logic and reason, the Doctor was nodding. "Captain, I…well…"

"Damn it, if you know what's going on here, then spit it out!"

"I will do just that, Captain. But first I must ask you to do something for me. I assume our computer has the exact coordinates for our monitoring station at the Moon's northern pole?"

"Yes."

"Please position the ship over this point, descend to two hundred meters, and turn us so that we are pointing directly at Earth."

80's eyes narrowed. "You have a theory?"

"Yes. But I'm either right or crazy, and I'd like to know which before I say too much."

"Very well. 77, reposition us according to the Doctor's instructions."

"Aye, sir."

Thrusters fired again and, within ten minutes, the ship was in position at the new coordinates…the monitoring station, however, was not there. The crew sat silently while RP-18 punched buttons at his console, occasionally murmuring to himself as he worked. After several minutes, he sighed and turned to address the rest of the bridge. "I'm sure that all of the naval personnel present are familiar with basic stellar mechanics?"

"Yes," the Captain replied. "So?"

The Doctor's expression was hovering somewhere between seriousness and something strangely like excitement. "Space is in constant motion…planets circling stars, and stars all moving relative to one another as the Galaxy goes round and round. Anyway, if one stands at a given point on a given planet with some constant object for reference, one can determine the date thanks to the relative positions of the stars…likewise, one point in time can be determined relative to another based upon the apparent shift of stellar objects. Usually, this sort of measurement is done from the surface of a planet…I've done the same thing, however, using the Earth as my fixed object and a recorded image from the northern monitoring station as my reference. If you'll direct your attention to the forward viewscreen, please…" A vast field of tiny red dots popped into view, a second set of virtual stars filling the void of space. They started out situated directly over their real counterparts, but then shifted…just slightly, but enough to present a decided contrast. "The red dots," RP-18 said calmly, "represent the positions of the stars when we left. As you can see, they do not match the present positions of their actual counterparts."

There was at least fifteen seconds of pure silence, and then IP-77 spoke, his tone disbelieving. "Time travel?"

"Is that really what you believe, Doctor?" the Captain asked.

18 smiled. "I told you it sounded crazy…I've checked my numbers twice, however. Logically, it's the only explanation I can develop. The Lunar Base isn't there…and the ground hasn't even been disturbed. Why? Because the Lunar Base has not been there yet…it hasn't been built."

"Assuming you're correct," the Captain said, "where…or when…are we?"

"It's difficult to say for sure. I'm working with tiny angles of shift…enough to tell a difference, but not enough to compute the exact change in date. I would estimate we're within a hundred years, certainly."

"Did we go forward or backward?"

"I can tell you that much, at least…based upon the direction of shift, we've definitely gone into the past. There's more." A list of coordinates appeared in the center of the viewscreen. "These are a selection of coordinate values recorded by the main computer during the Jump. As you can see, the z-coordinate is over six digits long. That would place us well outside the Galaxy."

"A malfunction?" IP-101 said.

"No, I don't think so," RP-18 replied quietly. He punched several keys, and the list of spatial coordinates changed…the value of the third digit decreased, and a fourth digit appeared. "I believe that the computer registered our motion through time, only it couldn't register four dimensions of input in a three-dimensional system. It tried to reconcile with its programming, but I think this is what it was trying to tell us."

"The last number in the first set," the Captain said. "It doesn't make sense. You said we hadn't travelled more than a hundred years, but it shows a value of over four hundred."

"I don't believe it's a direct correlation, Captain. The computer was trying to rationalize values that its programming does not accept. I believe those last numbers are somewhat arbitrary…they may represent a ratio of some kind, but I wouldn't hazard to guess. The point, however, is that they correspond to something, and can be entered back into the computer with the same relative value."

"Meaning you can get us home?"

"Theoretically, yes. The entire Jump was recorded…I should be able to selectively reverse the quantum waveform. Even without knowing all the numbers, I can still get the computer to recall them."

The Captain nodded. "Good. I'm sure you'll understand, Doctor, if I ask you to begin immediately. 77, set a course for Earth."

"Sir?"

"We have the opportunity of the millennium here. Assuming we really have gone backward through time, I intend to acquire some proof. I'd rather not be sent to the Mental Ward on our return."

"Aye, sir. Destination?"

"How would you like to see the original Wonka factory, gentlemen?" Expressions of wonder appeared on every face on the bridge. Assuming the Doctor's estimate was right, only one Wonka factory had yet been built…the original Facility 01. The Captain grinned. "Let's go to England, boys."