‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 107 An Unknown Journey

Before dawn, the lights burned bright in the ship’s quarters. Erich von Lübeck and Brittany McGowan had already finished dressing. Today, they would activate the Stargate to transport the San Jacinto and her entire crew to Saturn’s orbit, venturing into deep space. Yet this was more than a matter of distance; time itself would shift. The gate generated a spacetime corridor—beyond it lay a completely unknown world, a destination reached by altering the very fabric of time and space.

Lübeck placed his hands on Brittany’s shoulders, gazing into her eyes. She would be his sole companion on the unknown journey ahead.
“Ready?” Lübeck asked, looking into her eyes.
“Mm,” Brittany answered softly.
“Going through the gate might feel a bit uncomfortable, but I haven’t heard of any major accidents. It won’t be like the Philadelphia Experiment.” Deep down, Lübeck knew the dangers of the gate’s operation, but he also knew there was no point adding to Brittany’s psychological burden now.

With that, Lübeck wrapped his arm around her shoulders and waist, pulling her close. He leaned in and whispered in her ear,
“Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
“Mm, I’m not afraid,” Brittany murmured, burying her face against his neck within his embrace. Her arms tightened around him, and Lübeck could clearly hear her breathing.

He tightened his hold in return, breathing in the scent of her hair as he gently kissed her cheek and neck. His mind flashed through every moment since he first met Brittany. Finally, they shared a parting kiss before heading to their respective posts.

The bridge remained brightly lit throughout. Technical officers cross-checked procedures and data with the base control console, while the duty officer delivered the previous watch’s briefing to Lübeck.
“Prepare for countdown: thirty minutes to jump,” Lübeck ordered, scanning the report.
The command was relayed instantly via voice and other channels. Soon, Lübeck saw the strobe lights of the countdown flashing from the base’s transport dock through the bridge viewport.

Voice channels reported the readiness status of each station, projecting various streams of information onto the combat display screen. Yet Lübeck preferred listening to the voice reports in his headset; it felt like he could glean more from his crew’s tones than from text alone.

At twenty minutes to jump, the voice channel fell silent. Key parameters and system statuses scrolled across the common displays. Lübeck glanced out the side window toward the base control tower. By now, the edges of the illuminated windows were warping—not because the glass was bending, but because the air itself was refracting under shifting electromagnetic frequencies.

Operating the Stargate differed vastly from the carrier’s own anti-gravity engines. The latter adjusted the ship’s interaction with gravitational fields; the former altered the very spacetime structure surrounding the vessel.

At ten minutes to jump, all movement ceased. The ship-wide alarm sounded, signaling full automation. As the gate’s load increased, strange phenomena occurred—different people experienced different sensations or perceptual illusions. Lübeck kept scanning the bridge crew for abnormal reactions. He himself felt a sensation akin to passing through a small portal: tinnitus, the sensation of his body hair standing on end under an electric field, and visual distortions where blocks of light and shadow flickered. When he thought of Brittany, he seemed to see her sitting in her seat, strapped in, gripping the armrests tightly, staring forward with a tense, expressionless face—the image lacking color saturation before vanishing in an instant. Lübeck made a mental note to check with her later.

His thoughts snapped back to reality as the superconducting coils surrounding the dock began to scream at high frequency, vibrating through the rock walls. Outside the viewport, space itself appeared to stretch. His skin crawled as if ants were swarming over it, especially on his limbs, which felt bitten by fire ants.

Lübeck scanned the crew again—were they reacting normally? He thought of Brittany once more. The piercing shriek in his ears surged, his chest vibrated, and then—snap—a flash of black-and-white mosaic filled his mind before everything returned to normal.

Looking out the window, he saw endless deep space. Shifting his gaze back to the bridge console, he found the crew members turning to look at him.
“Order all systems to report status,” Lübeck commanded the duty officer.
“Update navigation and positioning,” he added, gesturing to the information screen. He lowered his head to check the carrier’s vital facility data on his terminal while listening to the voice reports streaming in.

After a brief storm of incoming data, Lübeck verified and authorized the San Jacinto’s deep-space deployment status, initiating the data transmission to higher headquarters (HQ).

Staring at the orbital navigation chart on the display, Lübeck picked up the phone and called the ship’s medical station.
“Lieutenant Colonel Olivia Hayes reporting. Medical station is normal; no requests for aid have been received.”
“Good. Please put me through to Brittany McGowan,” Lübeck said.
Olivia paused, slightly puzzled. Why call her at such a critical moment? But Lübeck continued,
“I want to check on a new recruit’s subjective experience of the jump.”
“Yes, Captain,” Olivia replied, turning to hand the phone over.
“Ensign Brittany McGowan, telephone.”
“Who?”
“The Captain.”
“Ah?” Brittany was startled. This was hardly the time for romance. Was something wrong with him?

Taking the phone with a mix of surprise and nervousness, Brittany spoke timidly into the receiver, wondering what task the Captain had for her.
“This is Ensign Brittany McGowan,” she said, holding the receiver close to her ear, listening intently for any sign of discomfort in Lübeck’s voice.
“The jump was successful. We are in orbit. How are you feeling?”
Hearing that Lübeck sounded normal and wasn’t complaining of illness, Brittany finally relaxed. So he hadn’t called for duty, but out of concern for her. A wave of joy washed over her, bringing a smile to her cheeks as she answered softly,
“Ah, I’m fine. Not too uncomfortable.”
“Any dizziness or nausea?”
“No.”
“Good. Keep monitoring your condition.”
Hearing Lübeck speak only of her well-being, Brittany sneaked a glance at the supervising officer and colleagues in the room.
Sure enough, a dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on her. Whether out of shyness or remembering Lübeck’s warning not to let others envy their relationship, she instinctively turned away, facing the wall. Cupping the receiver, she whispered,
“I will. You too.”
“Alright. That’s all. I’ll finish on time. See you tonight.”
“Okay. Goodbye.”

After hanging up, Lübeck knew they would proceed to check on key personnel and those in high-risk stations—that was their job. For himself, he looked out the window, orienting himself among the stars. He searched for Jupiter, for the ship must follow its trajectory to use its gravity for acceleration.

The journey through deep space evoked a profound sense of depth, not merely due to spatial distance, but because of the span of time. It was now Earth year 1931.