NOOZOON - New Life

This is where I -- artist, novelist and curmudgeon, William James Johnson -- hang out. Drop in to find out how much mischief an old guy like me can get into.

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Location: London, Ontario, Canada

I walk five miles every day in the beautiful park across the road. I have regular friends who in our discussions are trying to solve the world's problems. So far we haven't found any answers. But the journey keeps going on.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

ARCANA Chapter 9 by William James Johnson

The crackling sound of radio teletype, interspersed with Morse code, lulled Michael into a semi-trance state. He was responsible for communications and he spent long hours pouring over his books on Arctic geology while maintaining a listening watch for the latest weather reports. Another day was ending. Carlo and Helga were on duty at the controls of the airship, while the others paired off to discuss their common interests.

Chow and Moysev spent most of their waking hours in the lab adjacent to the SIC. Working together they were designing an energy collector system on the computer video to store the light energy released when the SIC was used to dematerialize a substance. Their research was limited by the equipment supplied in airship Nobile and resulted mainly in the mathematical formulae devised by Chow.

Suddenly, Michael was alerted by the sound of a human voice in his headset.

"Airship Nobile, this is Baker Lake. How do you read? Over."

"Five by five, Baker Lake. How do you read, Nobile? Over."

"Loud and clear. I have a message for your Eskimo crewman."

"I'm ready to copy. Over."

"From Department of Transport Baker Lake to Tuma Tittigapu. Break. Break. Regret to inform you, father Nikola killed in hunting accident. Break. Break. Did you copy? Over."

"Affirmative, Baker Lake. Nobile out."

Michael switched his intercom selector to crew position.

"Carlo, I've just got some bad news from Baker Lake.
"
"Not another storm I hope."

"Negative. It's a message for Tuma. Apparently there was a hunting accident and his father was killed."

"Oh Christ. What a lousy thing to happen to a kid who has had such a struggle all his life."

"Shall I get Tuma?" Helga asked.

"No. Not yet. I'll call John. We've got to talk this over."

Carlo was ready to make a big thing out of this. John had difficulty keeping him calm enough to make a rational decision. The fiery Italian wanted so hard to be a real leader. He kept the memory of his grandfather uppermost in his mind whenever his position as commander was in question.

"I say let's do a mooring and let the kid get back to his mother. We'll be over Baker Lake in a few hours."

"What happens if we moor and we run into technical problems. We might have to abort our mission. Baker Lake is hundreds of miles from nowhere."

John had mixed feelings about what to do. He wanted to do what was right for Tuma, but he also had to think of the importance of the mission first.

"Why not ask Tuma's opinion?" asked Sandra.

"She's got a point Carlo. Let's call him to come in here and maybe together we can work this out."

"Okay. I'm willing to give it a try."

Tuma came quickly, followed by André. Soon Moysev and Chow were also with them. John read Tuma the message.

"What do you think we should do, Tuma?"

Carlo interrupted. "I think we should moor at Baker Lake and let you return to your mother."

Tuma was quiet at first. Then he spoke in his soft, gentle voice. "If Tuma leave to go with mother, she would be disgraced. Eskimo always try to keep his word. I promise my mother, Aegerta, I would do my best to help. For me to be with my mother when you might need Tuma would be wrong. Tuma is sorry Nikola die. He was very old and not good as hunter anymore. Now he is gone. Tuma not able to do anything about it."

"Does this mean you'll stay?" asked Carlo.

"Tuma will stay and do what he must do with airship Nobile. Mother Aegerta will understand. But Tuma would like to know how his father Nikola was killed."

Sandra put her arm around the young lad.

"You're such a wonder. Can you let Tuma talk to them at Baker Lake John?"

John called Baker Lake radio. Soon they were all listening to the muted sounds of Inuit being spoken as Tuma talked directly to an Eskimo friend who was standing by in the radio room at Baker Lake. They spoke for about ten minutes.

"I tell him we not stop at Baker Lake. He understand. Eskimo know how to live with death. He promise he will care of Aegerta until Tuma come back. He also say my dear friend Meelanie will stay with my mother."

"Did he say anything about how your father was killed?"

"Yes. My father Nikola was drowned. He say my father was using his spyglass which he has had for many years. He trade arctic fox fur at Hudson Bay trading post for this spyglass. He say it was magic because it let him see caribou on nearby islands. That way he not have to leave camp to search for food. He would see it first through his magic glass then he would go to where they were. My friend say my father was going alone across water to shoot caribou. When he almost to island, caribou begin to run away. My father shoot at animal and miss. Other hunters see him stand up in boat and shoot again. My father very old man. When he shoot, he fall into water. Nikola not able to swim. By time other boats get to father, it was too late."

They all listened quietly to the young native's story feeling hopelessly inadequate to offer him some form of consolation. His closest friend André Goulet broke the silence.

"Shall we return to our lab, mon ami, and have a hot chocolate?"
Tuma smiled.

"André think hot chocolate best medicine for everything."

The anxiety in the cabin diminished when they saw the warm smile of their young companion. John and Sandra remained with Carlo and Helga while the others went about their business.

"Who was it said, 'the child is father of the man'?" asked Sandra.

"It wasn't me," replied John. "But I sure can see what you mean."

"When I heard we were going to have a kid with us, I was worried," said Carlo.

"That's no kid," added Helga. "Don't let that young body fool you."

When Tuma and Andre returned to the lab, Tuma explained how he knew about his father's accident before he was given the radio message.

"Mother Aegerta is shaman of my village."

"Isn't that something like a witch?" asked Andre.
"Not the same. She told Tuma in a dream about Nikola."

"That's fantastic, Tuma."

"Aegerta say she saw monster from pit attacking ship."

"We should tell the others." said Andre.

"Not good idea. Aegerta also show me vision of us running across ice, trying to escape."

As evening settled in, the arctic tundra became a dull brownish grey belying the multicoloured flora which, packed tightly, made the spongy mass of ground cover throughout Canada's high Arctic. The tree line was now far to the south of them, ending at Churchill. Ahead were countless lakes and hollows as far as the eye could see. In the distant north, the sky appeared to be ablaze with the light of pale green curtains which changed rapidly from great sheets of luminescence to broken streaks of dancing darts. The aurora was putting on a special display for the brave adventurers. Another day and a half, and they would know if there really was a magnetic veil across their path preventing them from penetrating into the theorized opening at the top of the world.

Moysev and Chow were somewhat disappointed when Nobile crossed the arbitrary boundary of the Arctic circle at about 67 degrees north, and the craft did not experience much effect from the earth's magnetic field. The skeptics on board were beginning to talk with more bravado, as though this was what they expected all along. John aggravated Helga when he started to poke fun at Moysev's theory.

"All this work and all these days of putting in time and there is no magnetic curtain."

"Don't be too quick to criticize my young friend," said Moysev. "There will be a magnetic curtain. There has to be. Where precisely it will occur is just a guess."

"Wanting it to happen and having it happen are two different things. But don't worry, Nikolas, if it turns out your theory is proven incorrect, that in itself is of value wouldn't you say?"

"It is not wishful thinking on my part, sir. You cannot have a circle of magnetism without the energy pattern emanating from it being circular as well. Believe me, sir. Somewhere out there we are going to have to deal with the problem."

"Don't let his lack of knowledge get to you, Nicholas," said Helga, as she sensed the disappointment in her old mentor.

"Look you two...I'm not trying to be difficult. It's just that we have crossed the so called Arctic Circle, and there has been no change whatsoever in the control of our craft, and I for one don't feel my energy field collapsing around me."

"Take it easy, John," said Carlo. "You're getting awfully close to insulting one of the world's greatest living scientists."

"Now now...my dear friends. What John is expressing is the same kind of opposition I had to face when I presented my findings during the International Geophysical Year at the Moscow Academy of Science. You can say what you like. My skin is thick, as you Americans say. I don't take your comments personally. Just be patient. Today or maybe tomorrow, we'll come face to face with what I have called the magnetic curtain. Then we shall see what you have to say."

"I'm sorry Nicholas. I meant nothing personal about my remarks. I respect your ideas. How could anyone doubt your theories after witnessing what you've done with the SIC. Please accept my apologies. Helga is right. Who am I to question the basic premise which has put all of us here. I'm willing to wait it out."

"We have no other choice," replied the old Russian. "But you shall see. Time is on my side."

Passing underneath Airship Nobile was an unending vista of pock marked lakes in every direction. The volume of water had increased with the proportionate reduction in the amount of muskeg. Directly north of their craft they could see the brilliant glow known by most explorers as "Arctic Glare". Even though it had long been thought to be the result of thousands of miles of ice and snow, they were now willing to accept the other alternative, that is, that the glare was caused by an interior sun shining out through the opening they were trying to find.

Sandra was busy putting everything on video tape. Suddenly she became very excited.
"Quick, Carlo. Over there. What are all those black specks?... those dots moving in a straight line...towards the north."

The others pressed against the cabin windows.

"That is great herd of caribou," said Tuma. "There are two great herds in my country. Each summer, caribou go north for breeding on the wide ice fields. They come back before winter and have their calves in the south."

"There must be thousands," said John.

"Hundreds of thousands," said Michael. "The migratory herds of caribou are one of the wonders of the natural world."

Carlo turned the huge craft in the direction of the herd and descended to within five hundred feet of the running animals. The crew saw packs of wolves loping beside the herd, culling out the weak animals. The line of caribou was about thirty animals wide and several miles long. The numbers were so great it looked like an invasion of maggots on an abandoned carcass. Dipping into the cold waters of large ponds and scrambling up the shallow slopes of spongy muskeg, the herds went on forever.

This unexpected natural marvel relieved the monotonous scenery which moved endlessly below the silver airship. Moysev and Chow returned to their calculations, disappointed that when the craft had passed King William Island, they were still not sensing magnetic fluctuations in the instruments. Occasionally the compass would begin to precess, but the computer would easily bring it back into synchronization.

John steered the airship through James Ross Strait, and went slightly eastward, keeping Prince of Wales Island on his left and Somerset Island on his right. It took all of his watch and half of Carlo's to reach Barrow Strait, located near 75 degrees north.

Just ahead was the high arctic base of Resolute on Cornwallis Island. Almost as though someone had deliberately programmed it, the compass began to rotate uncontrollably. Carlo became frustrated. His hitting of the instrument did not stop the numbers from whizzing past him so quickly he could not determine in what direction to steer. He selected a correction with the computer but to no avail.
Anxious to solve the problem, he called for help.

"Nicholas and Liu...will you come up here right away."

John heard the transmission on his intercom and bounded off his bunk to join the others in the crew compartment.

"What's up Commander?" John asked.

"See for yourself. The compass has gone squirrely."

"Now that's more like it," said the smiling Russian scientist.

"So what do we do now?" asked Carlo.

"Forget the instruments and rely on your Video Nav Aid and go back to the old stand by dead reckoning navigation," said Nicholas.

John selected the VNA and a picture of the land below immediately formed on the scope in the centre of the control panel. He adjusted a light control on the small black box beside the VNA and it superimposed a compass rose over the terrain displayed.

"Steer by that synthetic compass, Carlo. Keep the terrain on the screen moving from top to bottom. That way we should for all intents and purposes keep on a northerly heading."

"Feels strange relying on a drawing of a compass instead of the real thing."

"I know what you mean. It's the only way we're going to be able to continue towards the magnetic curtain Nicholas has told us about. Otherwise, we are liable to fly around the curtain, instead of through it."

"That's correct John," said Nicholas. "This is why the transpolar pilots think they're flying in a straight line, when instead they are flying the rim of the opening like Henry demonstrated back in Washington."

"Well, if it might work, I'm willing to try it," said Carlo, buoyed by the cooperation of his teammates.

"You'll find in a few hours that even this will no longer work," said Nicholas.

"How do you mean?"

"I anticipate the magnetic field will have such a strong effect on the airship that we may not be able to proceed further without changing our techniques," said the scientist.

Liu added his opinion, "That is the reason an airship was selected rather than an airplane. We are self-contained, right down to the energy collectors which give us our motive force. Any other form of transportation for a mission such as this would have been limited to the form of energy required to get here. If we should encounter problems when we reach the magnetic curtain, we'll want a vehicle which can support us while we consider the various options open to us."

"My gawd, for a foreigner, that guy sure talks smooth," said John, grinning at the others after Chow's short speech.

"Oxford, old fellow..." said Chow, with his first sign of humour since he had become a member of the crew.

"You guys are getting funnier by the minute. I'm sure you two sit back there in that lab dreaming up one liners. Nicholas calls me, 'my boy', and Liu calls me, 'old fellow'. Somewhere in between is the real John Robins." The laughing which followed put them at ease again.

Michael had been monitoring the discussion about what was happening with the instruments as they came under the influence of the earth's magnetic field, and decided he should let Washington know what the Nobile was encountering. He had been maintaining a link with the Nation's Capital by way of COMSAT, a communication satellite put into fixed orbit during the early days of space exploration.

"K Ops, this is Nobile, over."

K Ops was the call sign given to the Nobile mission to find President Koster.

"Go Nobile."

"Experiencing random interference with compass system. Crew has now switched to VNA. Opinion of Moysev that this is the beginning of magnetic curtain."

"K Ops standing by."

At the northern tip of Devon Island, Carlo began to tremble and the controls were of very little effect. No matter what John or Carlo did, the large craft tried to swing left or right on its own, but like a spoiled child, refused to go any further north. The others were beginning to sense the pressure building as all their technical knowledge was being thwarted by a force they could not see.

The vibrations shook the crew compartment so violently whenever they tried to point the vessel north, some of the crew were starting to be nauseous from motion sickness. The glaring light in the north was so intense that they had to put on their sunglasses.

"It's no use, Carlo. We can't get through," said John, frustrated by his failure.

"There's got to be a way. What about it, Nicholas?"

"If we can't get through it," said the Russian, "We'll have to enter it from the top."

"Top...top what?" asked John.

"The magnetic curtain is a finite energy source emanating from inside the earth. The rays surround the opening and extend outward into space. If we take our ship up the curtain we will find that the intensity diminishes and we'll be able to fly over the weakened field into the opening."

"What opening...I don't see any opening," replied John.

"You must remember, when I discovered the magnetic north was a circle of equal magnetic force, I calculated the opening to be almost twelve hundred miles across. You cannot see more than three hundred miles from our vessel. The only way you would see the opening is to go into outer space. We may even fly into the opening and it will seem we are still over the surface of the earth instead of penetrating it."

"It's all relative," said Liu.

"So what do we do now?"

"We start climbing with the Nobile while shunting east and west and watch our instruments very closely. When we see that the magnetic field outside our craft is lessening, we attempt to go north again," explained Nicholas.

"Let's give it a try. How's our energy state?"

"We have a full charge on, John. Tuma was right about the sun in the Arctic at this time of year. The only thing I'm worried about is that Nobile was not designed for high altitude flying. We're not pressurized. All we have for the crew is hand held oxygen masks. I hope that's going to be enough."

The two pilots checked their present altimeter setting. Nobile had been hovering around 4500 feet for most of the journey. As they began to climb they could feel the system was being overtaxed. Two hours of tedious flying were required to nurse the large blimp to the ten thousand foot level. There was very little change in the magnetic field outside the craft.

"I don't know, Carlo. This doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere."

"What about it, Nicholas?" Carlo's voice was becoming hoarse with tenseness.

Liu answered his query. "My extrapolations, based on the minute changes experienced so far, indicate we'll reach the top of the magnetic curtain at about 20,000 feet."

"I just thought of another problem we're going to have. Once we get over the top, if your theory of zero magnetism is correct, we could all be immediately converted into energy. I know the SIC is designed to prevent this for people sitting in the chamber, but what about me and Carlo. We've got to stay at the controls."

"Liu and I have rigged a coil system similar to that which will be used to protect Nobile when we have reached the centre of the opening. We only have one such system, so I'll leave it to you two to decide who will use it. The other pilot will take his place with us in the SIC"

At eleven thousand feet, the intermittent use of oxygen was causing a physical strain on the crew. Their debates about what to do next were also draining their mental capacities. Nicholas decided to take action now rather than wait too long and risk the lives of his compatriots.

John looked at the weary face of Carlo and knew that, if they were going to make it, he would have to do it himself. He had hundreds of flying hours more than the young well-meaning Italian, and it was not fair to put him on the spot like this.

"Wire me up, Nicholas. The rest of you go with Liu to the ionization chamber. Take care how much oxygen you use. That's all we have...good luck everyone. I'll see you on the other side."

Carlo did not even offer to take his place. Everyone knew the right choice had been made. Sandra gave him a light kiss and a pat on the arm as she left the flight deck with the others. It took Nicholas about twenty minutes to rig the young pilot with the induction coil. Then the old Russian made it slowly to the SIC with the others. The lack of oxygen played havoc with the aging scientist whose extra body weight did not help in this situation.

Airship Nobile was at 14,000 feet and climbing.


View collectible art for children by William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com

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