Jonny Quest* Reimagined by C. J. Atticus
Proposed: Young Adult Five-Book Series – 3 of 5 CompletedBased on the 1965 Animated Television ShowStory: Copyright © 2021 C. J. AtticusJonny Quest: Copyright © 2021 Warner Brothers (Publishing Permission Needed)* Different Protagonist Name Available
In the year 2091, Jonny Quest has the biggest headache in the universe—his twin brother, Jody. He argues over everything: the top bunk, haircuts, piloting through the Aurora Borealis, and who's loved more by Jpeg their robot dog. They live aboard a space station so they can’t escape each other. Their Astrophysics teacher says a science project might be therapeutic. When the boys discover a strange cosmic radiation barreling through the solar system, they eagerly team up.
But all is not as it seems. They’ve been set up by someone preparing them for a great destiny. What the boys capture is Dark Energy. It moves galaxies. But can it move the human heart? The brothers suffer a spiteful sibling rivalry and it causes them to overlook a conspirator’s devious plot until too late. If Jonny and Jody can’t resolve their differences, their home, family, even mankind may cease to exist. For the brothers, however, “reconciliation” is a planet they have never visited.
But all is not as it seems. They’ve been set up by someone preparing them for a great destiny. What the boys capture is Dark Energy. It moves galaxies. But can it move the human heart? The brothers suffer a spiteful sibling rivalry and it causes them to overlook a conspirator’s devious plot until too late. If Jonny and Jody can’t resolve their differences, their home, family, even mankind may cease to exist. For the brothers, however, “reconciliation” is a planet they have never visited.
The Science Behind Jonny Quest UniverseBy C. J. AtticusCopyright 2021 C. J. Atticus
Article below, following Book 3, Chapter 1
Book 1 - Jonny Quest and the Living Machine - Words 65,000Chapter 1 - Eyes Among the Stars
“Come on, engine . . . Start. Ignite. Burn. Do something.” Jonny sat squeezed into a cramped cockpit with an inoperable helm, his powerless starjet coasting along a glide path that so far had carried him a thousand kilometers off course. “Explode even!” This was not the way he planned to celebrate his fourteenth birthday―marooned in deep space. “T-minus four minutes nineteen seconds,” announced his dashboard Navigational computer. “Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know.” Frustrated, he combed his fingers through his blond hair while he scanned the sputtering console. Hydroquenilum fuel gauge looked good. Variable oscillator gyroscope online. No fire warning light. Thermal snow swept through the communication monitor. Other than that. . . “Wish I'd gone to the bathroom.” He didn't care what Procurement said about these newfangled envirosuits. He refused to use the diapers. He'd flown out here to make history. Straight ahead in front of the star-filled black background, a tiny silver twinkle waited for him, the Particle Accelerator, ready to capture the universe’s most mysterious force—Dark Energy, his only chance at proving he was a first-class inventor like his father by turning this energy into rocket propellant. A Quest, through and through. Now this new headache. “Jo,” came his brother's voice squeezing through speaker static. “What's the holdup?” At the port side window Jonny glanced aft. Out past the forward-swept wings of his red Kestrel Class starjet, another starjet, a blue one, was tagging along in a high plane alinement. “Cool your jets, little brother.” “Stop calling me little.” Jody’s voice mixed with the audio static. “You’re older only by thirty-two seconds. What’s wrong with your ship?” “I have a glitch demon aboard.” “Another one? Look, we don’t have time for malfunctions, Jo.” “You think?” “The countdown is down to—” “T-minus three minutes thirty seconds,” announced Jonny’s computer. “Hey, Jonny, haven’t you noticed how weird all this is? It’s our birthday, it’s January 13, 2091, a Friday, and all nine planets are in alignment. Like we’re part of a cosmological convergence.” “You’re imagining things. It’s just science at its best.” Two years ago in Astrophysics Class, Jonny read about a supernova 7.24 light years away within the Milky Way galaxy that produced a shockwave so massive it would push condensed Dark Energy all the way to Earth. Right now, that shockwave was sweeping through the Mars system and heading right toward him and the Accelerator. “If this experiment works, De, I plan to fly to Venus and putt golf balls, then hopscotch to Europa and ski the moon’s ice canyons. If DaVinci, Einstein, and Sagan were still alive, they’d be pretty envious.” “But I’ve got a bad feeling about being out here. If SkyGuard arrests us for stealing these starjets—” “Stealing? They’re borrowed. Besides, I didn’t want to spend the morning sitting through Ol’ Craterface’s lecture on arbitrary divisible tangents. Trigonometry may be easy, but it’s boring. And it ain’t rocket science. This is rocket science.” “What about Dad? You know how he gets.” “We’ll sneak these candy stores back on the hangar deck long before he gets home from work. Now have fun with this, and don’t be such a tool.” “I’m the tool? You’re the pain in the family.” “Okay, okay, I don’t want to argue. Defragment. Chill.” “Don’t tell me to chill. I’m a Quest, too, and I’m responsible for half the calculations that’ll make our experiment work.” “A third.” “Half.” “A third.” “Half. I’m telling Mom.” “Complain, complain. Doesn’t anything excite you?” “No.” “Jody, look at the moon in full eclipse. It’s solid black with a ring of red light surrounding the sun’s rim. And those orange prominences? Don’t they resemble lightening bolts frozen in time?” “Now you’re imagining things.” “T-minus three min . . . standby, standby.” The indicator on the reactor’s console gauge climbed upward into the yellow marking. “Finally.” Jonny shoved the throttle, tilted the helmstick, and zoomed his spunky red ship across space, keeping his eyes glued to the shimmering dot. “Wait for me, you battery head,” he thought he heard from the radio. As he neared the Particle Accelerator, he curved his ship into a parking orbit two-hundred meters off the Accelerator’s hull. Radiating out from a central orifice, copper triangle plates lined up side by side and made a complete circle. Behind these were a fifty-foot silver chassis with a moon-sized Quest Industries decal, a dozen thrusters for station-keeping, and three colossal aft engine cones pointing back at distant space. Now it was Jonny’s turn to build on his father’s legacy. And yes, Jody deserved recognition, too—well, a third, anyway. “T-minus two minutes eighteen seconds.” Their dad would be so proud of him after he pulled this off. Scientists and technicians back at the space station worried about the unknown properties of condensed Dark Energy. Sure its gravitational effects moved galaxies, but there was no way of knowing if disaster— Jonny leaned forward, tightening his helmstick grip. He saw something. “T-minus one minute twenty-three seconds. Capture procedure imminent.” Jonny remained frozen, eyes fixed on the Accelerator’s revolving copper wheel, the orifice blue glow spinning opposite. What did he just witness? A glint of sunlight off a camerapod? It resembled nothing in the Quest arsenal. It wasn’t alien; science had proven years ago they didn’t exist. But what? There it was again. Another glint. His eyes searched the mega-machine’s polished silver hull. “I’m going in, Jody. Nobody messes with my experiment.” Jonny nudged the throttle, and his little ship crept forward. The nosecone aimed at the spot where a prowler floated along the Accelerator’s north axis. If he wasn’t such a well-trained cadet he’d swear he saw glowing red eyes poking up along the fuselage edge. He banked and dipped under the mega-machine, swinging out wide then high over the north axis. He saw only the starry backdrop of space. “Warning. Solar disturbance approaching.” This might be a hoax cooked up by his personal mentor. Tuosos sometimes tested a cadet’s readiness level. Earning Wings wasn’t for everyone. However, Captain Gallant would never stoop to trickery. His uniform was too starched. Plus the man— “What . . . whoa—” He pulled on the helm and came to a dead stop, almost hitting them. A pair of blood red orbs floated in space—no equipment, no vehicle, no means of propulsion—and stared at him with their evil irises. A live glitch demon? Where was their engine and fuselage? He only detected a background shimmer behind those red lights, like heat rising from an overheated starjet hood. Terror crawled up from his gut. All his life, even back before microchips and autopilots made sense, he had concealed his fear of machines, believing they conspired to snuff him out. But if he talked about it, Wing Commander Lufbery would revoke his pilot license. And to go even one day without sailing among the stars would be worse than machines reprogramming him for destruction. “Warning. Ignition suppression failure.” “Oh, no.” Jonny glanced at the console monitor. The Accelerator’s engines were now in start-up mode. “Not another glitch.” Outside in space, brilliant white light burst and stung Jonny’s eyes. He crossed arms over his face and glimpsed the console’s CRS gauge spiking past the redline, cosmic energy collection in progress. The arriving shockwave pummeled him and his craft into rough flips. Every alarm activated. He lost sight of the mysterious red orbs. The Accelerator’s three main engine cones ignited and expelled rivers of burning propellant. Several side thrusters detached themselves and careened toward him, their exhaust corkscrewing. A grappling clamp struck his right wing and whipped a loose cable overhead, scraped the canopy glass and pulled aft, jolting the ship. The force jammed Jonny up against the cockpit wall as sparks sprayed from a fuse panel. Outside, fire poured over the canopy roof. “Jonny,” blared Jody’s frantic radio voice. “You’re in the exhaust. Get out of there!” “No, no, no,” Jonny mumbled, his eyes scanning the console. “My experiment.” Through the canopy, a glow filled his cockpit and turned his white envirosuit orange. A crack scratched across his console. White smoke oozed. A yellow prick of flame emerged. Jonny grabbed his helmet and stuffed it down over his head, snapping the neck seal, jabbing his hands into his gloves and locking their clamps. “Warning,” announced his computer through his earphones. “Hull temperature sixteen-hundred degrees.” Vibrations rattled his teeth. Instruments blurred. The thinnest canopy crack would turn him into flotsam and pull him apart cell by cell, scream by scream, vacuuming him right through the hole. He was in trouble. Bad trouble. “Unidentified craft,” a Russian woman’s voice said into his earphone. “This is SkyGuard Patrol. Is that you, Quest? This is Ensign Ulanova.” “Oh, no, not her.” But he experienced a rush of exuberance at her arrival. He searched for her, up through the canopy where violent orange plasma streamed over his craft. And there she flew, her shuttle craft traveling along in a high altitude well clear of the orange exhaust trail, Jody’s starjet following along above hers. “What are you doing out here?” she asked. “No, don’t answer. I know you too well.” “Ensign, help me. I have a fire.” A long pause added to his panic. He heard clanking metal. “What are you doing?” “Preparing to launch an SB-2 and break the cable dragging you by the tail section. Don’t worry. I’ve done this a hundred times—on a simulator.” “Simulator? Ensign, this is no time to get even.” He swore he heard giggling. “Besides I have to protect my experiment. I can’t lose everything.” “We’ll deal with all that afterwards,” her voice radio said. “Brace yourself.” Jonny grabbed the armrests and prayed she was a better marksman than comedian. He watched a blast of light appear under her shuttle. The arrow-slim missile launched, leaving a whirly particle trail as it shot downward at an angle. He squeezed his eyes as another blast of light exploded outside his canopy. The impact slammed him against the wall, bouncing his helmet off the glass. Then his ship floated free. Out in space, the Accelerator sped off on its unknown journey, turning in a wide arc with its exhaust stretching outward like a comet’s tail. He watched his dreams sail away into the infinite. “Now, cadet. Activate your Emergency Fire Suppression system.” Jonny dreaded answering. “I-I have no EFS. I didn’t charge it. Well, how was I supposed to know . . .” “No system—unbelievable. All right, here’s what you do. Open the canopy.” “Do what?” “You have a suit on, don’t you?” “I do, I do, but opening the canopy is crazy.” “It’ll work. Trust me. I’ve done it a hundred times.” “Not a hundred times.” “Cadet, get that canopy open. That’s an order.” Despite the fear, he gave in. “Computer, you still with me?” “Running, sir.” “Emergency shutdown.” The monitor blinked. When the scrolling list of instructions dissolved to one line of code, the console went dark. Flames erupted over the top crown of upholstery curving over the main console. “Jonny,” Jody’s radio voice yelled. “Do it.” Nervous, he set a fist in midair above the canopy operation button. “Do it now!” He dropped his fist, hard. Everything exploded. The canopy went first, rising perpendicular on its hinges. Loose items―his micro tools, VPal device, dust, even the smoke and flame―blasted upward and out into space. It worked. Jonny cheered and shouted, forgetting he wore a helmet, changing the ringing in his ears into pain. But this wasn’t all he forgot. He forgot to lock his harness. He, too, went shooting out into space. “Yahooooo!”
Book 2 – Jonny Quest and the Beast Inside Him - Words 91,000Prologue - The Good Ol’ Days
A rat ran over Adam Gallant’s arm. For all he knew it could’ve been an alien life form disguised in a tiny fur coat. All manner of strangeness visited this place. But its hairless pimple-peppered pink tail gave it away. It scampered along the shellacked planks stretching across empty oil drums, stopped at the far edge to sniff the air, and leaped onto the shadowy floor. Adam pulled his hand away from the boiled peanuts bowl as a fly zipped past his eyes. “You ever disinfect this place?” he asked, watching the insect flutter away, maybe to find that rat. “Now you’re the health inspector,” replied Harry the bartender, setting down two drinks as he rolled a gnawed cigar stub across his blistered lips. Adam raised a glass to the purple glow of the neon sign mounted behind the cascading liquor bottle. The feeble “n” in Oil Can Harry’s buzzed. Yep, water spots and fingerprints. “You ever wash these?” He squinted and twisted the glass. “You want ’em clean, talk to my mechanical dishwasher. That toid works about as hard as my water heater.” Harry turned away, his greasy apron-clad belly sliding against the bar edge. “Don’t stray far. I’m goin’ for your grub.” He bounced his eyebrows, and Adam swore something crawled out from under the hairs and raced over the man’s bald head. No, impossible, even for this place. Round, filthy, and oh so personable, Harry hadn’t changed a bit, thought Adam as he slid onto a stool, his knees bumping oil drums. The slob offended everybody—Danglers, Ritejockies, Skyjunkies, arachnids, and the few mammals stopping in for a look-see. But Harry remained the only barkeep left on Auraria’s promenade that’d serve a meal to him and Malcolm. The other establishments, except for this rat hole, never appreciated their years of antagonizing every space rapscallion looking to burn off a little pent up energy. Of course, slinging a chair or two against mirrors didn’t help matters. The constant demolition turned out to be Harry’s way of acquiring new furnishings, the Station’s insurance paying out. But times change and Adam matured. Malcolm? Not yet and late again for what was sure to be an interesting lunch. As Adam waited, he noticed he and an old man ten stools away were the only patrons. The gloomy lonesome room hadn’t changed lately and could use a good dusting. It smelled of charcoal, and the twenty round tables, fashioned from up-ended electrical cable pallets, awaited the first wave of lunch-hungry ore miners, as did the back wall of lava red booths, each heavily mended by gray duct tape. The band hadn’t arrived, nor had the security guards, and Adam hoped to be fed and back down on the hangar deck long before they appeared. Blessed sunspots, he hated waiting on Malcolm. He needed a conversation with the guy up against a bulkhead wall to get him to check his watch more often. Finally, the front door swung inward, slamming the wall. Malcolm plowed through the opening as the wind blew his stringy blond hair nearly straight backward. He slid onto a stool. “Well, where is it? I’m so hungry I’ll even eat this slop. Harry! Shake a leg!” “’Bout time, you battery head,” Adam said, relieved they were back on schedule. Harry sauntered out from the kitchen with two plates in hand, his cigar now lit. He plopped them in front of the men and splattered sauce onto the counter. Malcolm tore right into his, shoveling it in as if he hadn’t seen food in a month. Adam waited. Something moved under the mash potatoes. Setting his fork down, he reared back and stared. Bubbles rose through the thick red sauce that smothered brown and white cubes of something unidentifiable. Slime slid down the edges of browning lettuce. And that moving thing dug under it all like an insectbot stuck underneath the carpet. “Squid? Out here in space?” Adam said, recognizing the delicacy. At least he thought it could be a delicacy, in another place and time perhaps. “So now you’re a food critic,” said Harry, rolling his cigar as he reached around his apron and scratched his backside. Adam slapped down a Whizchip. Harry picking it up. “Hey, you crankhead, where’s my tip?” “Oh. Don’t go mining your backside for spices. Your chef won’t love you anymore.” Malcolm laughed, still bent over his plate and holding his spoon halfway into his mouth. Okay, Gallant, Adam told himself as he picked up his fork. Put Quest Industries endurance training into practice. Eat this stuff and capture that tentacle escaping back to the kitchen and you’ll deserve a promotion off this wretched Station. Servicing ritedozers, barges, and asteroid Pusher engines wasn’t exactly what he signed up for. He agreed with Malcolm; working in natural sunlight and fresh air would be rewarding in itself. He took his first bite. “SUSPECT HIM!” screamed the old man. He shoved himself between Adam and Malcolm and slammed his drink down on the bar, droplets rising and diving back into the copper liquid. Adam and Malcolm dropped their forks and stiffened their backs. “The collaborator!” the old guy shouted. “Demon on the grid. Knows it all. Knows you and you.” He glanced about the ceiling as he rubbed Adam’s shoulder. “Sees everything you do, biding its time.” Adam brushed the man’s hand aside and stood away from his stool. Wobbling, the man sat down and pulled his drink closer, corralling his arms around it as if praying. Shrugging, Malcolm flipped his hands palm up and mouthed, “Who is this?” “Someone must listen,” the guy whispered. “Must listen. Got to stop it.” Adam now realized he knew the man. “Doctor Tilwar? It is you.” Adam slid onto the next stool and eyed his old instructor. “Demon in the grid,” Tilwar repeated. “The grid. Can never be disconnected.” Poor old sod, Adam thought. What in the world had brought him to this point? He recalled the doctor departing the Lab a few years ago. Now he was a withered soul smelling of sulfur, probably working ore barges and gambling away his claim. Tilwar used to surf the Wild and share research with student programmers; artificial intelligence required constant retraining to keep up with the advances. Now the old fool massaged his dew-speckled shot glass as if it were the source of salvation. “The grid, the grid,” Tilwar kept whispering into his chilled savior. Adam understood that comment. For three years he’d tooled around the solar system with Malcolm and undertook the worst jobs—smelting ore here on Auraria, excavating lunarscape plats, ferrying construction material to Terren Space Station—and payed his dues until an opening in Quest’s Propulsion Laboratory became available. Flying and maintaining starjets were the coveted jobs. They liked getting their hands dirty, teamed to install the latest A.I. upgrades for the TB12 computer on board the Blacktip Fighters patrolling the quadrant. Dr. Tilwar wrote the basic language of those enhancements. It was during those years in space that Adam encountered numerous asteroid miners known as Danglers who told stories about ghosts in machines, superstitions about “glitch demons” causing mechanical failures: reliable space vessels mysteriously failing, ritedozer hatches bursting open, Pusher engines igniting when offloaded, toids going rogue, and many stewards maimed, some killed. In fact next year, Earth Station One would be abandoned due to a belief in it being haunted, all hogwash to Adam. He attributed these happenings and the ones he witnessed to simple everyday malfunctions. For gravity’s sake, it was 2078. Malcolm, however, blamed his pink elephant for pulling pranks. But now, Tilwar’s comments didn’t seem so farfetched until he mentioned something that made the man sound completely space-happy. “The Star Child must destroy his world to save him.” “What the magnaflux is a Star Child?” asked Malcolm. “Hey, Old Timer, what is that?” Tilwar said nothing, just rubbed his fingers up and down the glass. Adam understood the earlier use of the word “grid.” It referred to the interconnected techno landscape belonging to the Quest universe. Quest Industries had pioneered space travel and provided the high-tech machinery needed for humans to live and work within it. Dr. Tilwar might be referring to some undetected malfunction common to all that backdrop. Adam considered it his duty to report this. The mention of “child” could mean malevolent plans awaited the impending birth of Mrs. Quest’s boys. A companywide celebration was in the works. “All I gotta say,” complained Malcolm as he slid his plate to the side, “it better not be another computer brain going haywire. They already run all the construction, farming, commerce. We don’t even walk dogs anymore, thanks to those mechanical trashcans. Someday they’ll rule us—you, not me. I’m escaping to the stars.” “Malcolm?” Adam whispered behind Tilwar. “Let’s find a Comm Booth.” As Adam stood and tugged on Malcolm’s sleeve, Malcolm scooped in his last bite and left the plate spinning. They rushed out the front door, darted down wide metal steps, and strolled across the busy concourse. Rusty ceiling fans offered no relief from the constant heat or the scent of sulfur. Noise from other crowded bars and arguing shopkeepers only added to the discomfort. The guys dashed past a kiosk merchant hawking gas masks, another selling boots, still another offering salt tablets and canteens. A scantily clad woman offered a kiss, an old man missing a leg begged for a token, and two security goons hassled a man, poking him with their batons and threatening arrest. Adam was glad he didn’t have to endure that any longer, and he was pleased to know that the new android guards, called Zhwuzes, would soon go into service and end the corruption. Down a tunnel and inside the next habitat they found a row of Comm Booths and squeezed into the glass box. “You’re on my foot,” Adam griped. “Go wait outside.” “Out there where the guards are? Not until the sun freezes over.” Adam swiped his security badge through the reader which turned a red light green just above a monitor. An animated woman’s face appeared. “Thank you for choosing ISA-T&T. For your protection, this communication will be recorded. Voice or text?” “Voice,” blurted Malcolm. “Well, I wanna know more about this Star Child. Have her ask the Network. Miss, tell us about Star Child.” “You heard him, Computer.” “Running,” she said, rubbing a finger against her temple as she thought. Suddenly she disappeared. Then the screen went dark. “Now that’s not supposed to happen,” Adam said. Malcolm pounded his fist atop the monitor. “Don’t do that. No wonder she’s obstinate.” Adam was about to reswipe his badge when a guard with a twirling baton casually walked by. Long ago Adam repented his fighting ways, but the guards kept long memories, and bribery sometimes cost more than an arm and a leg. As the guard passed, Adam and Malcolm stealthily darted out of the booth, crossed the bustling corridor, and slipped inside an elevator. “I’m bringing lunch tomorrow,” Adam said. “Level One.” The elevator descended. “I’m not eating,” answered Malcolm, rubbing his stomach. “Something’s moving around in there.” Glad to be hidden, Adam leaned against the elevator wall and he and Malcolm shared a chuckle. They had spent many years avoiding these goons who ran Auraria like a prison. Private commerce was meant to function freely on this Station, but as always, those who didn’t defend their freedom lost it. Doctor Quest’s brilliant plan to replace the guards with unfeeling androids would restore the original intent of this place to provide a consistent flow of construction materials to support the expanding cohabitation of space, and do it equitably for the workers who tolerated the arduous conditions. Terren, the newest and largest Station in history, would house five thousand residents. The elevator stopped. Malcolm glanced around the walls and ceiling. “Now what?” “Level One,” Adam ordered the wall control panel where a light blinked. The elevator moved, descended about a foot, and stopped again. Malcolm beat his fist against the wall adjacent to that panel. Adam rolled his eyes. “Why is that your answer to every problem? That’s half the reason we stayed in trouble all those years ago.” “It’s half the reason we stayed alive, old buddy.” Adam pressed every panel button. Nothing happened. “Computer, Level One Hangar Deck. Computer. Are you in there?” “It’s a conspiracy, this new A.I.” “Maybe because you asked about the Star Child.” “Adam, did we make someone mad?” “We!” The car dropped a yard and stopped with a huge bounce. “What, down a foot at a time?” complained Malcolm. Adam studied the controls and rapped a knuckle against the panel glass. “We’re stuck between fifteen and fourteen.” Frustrated and worrying about his schedule, he tried Malcolm’s age old solution. He banged a fist against the wall. “Attaboy,” smiled Malcolm. The car descended again, slowly, steadily, the walls creaking, support cables knocking metal to metal. The guys shared a worried glance. The car stopped once more. “This is ridiculous.” Malcolm turned in a circle and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t like being cooped up. You know I don’t like being cooped up.” Adam pushed every button as he studied the ceiling. He spotted an emergency escape hatch. They could climb out if need be. That, however, would attract security. Adam balled up a fist and punched the panel. No changes. “Worth a shot,” he said, shrugging. The creaking sound intensified, ceased, and the car dropped another yard and stopped, bouncing as before. “Well, the sign says we’re near Thirteen,” Malcolm said. “Try the door.” Adam depressed the door button. No response. He pushed his fingers into the door seam and tugged. Still nothing. Malcolm added his. Again nothing. The car dropped another yard. “Now we’re at Thirteen,” Adam said. “Let’s try again.” Fingers pried at the door. Not a budge. “Hey! Anybody out there!” shouted Malcolm, lips pressed against the seam. “Stop. You’ll attract the guards. . .” The car dropped heavy as lead. The walls wobbled, and the cables clanged. “FREEFALL!” shouted Malcolm. Adam slapped his hand over all the useless buttons. “The lever. Where’s the blasted panel?” “Apply the brakes! The brakes!” “12,” blinked the indicator sign above the doors. Down the car went, faster and faster. Malcolm leaned against a wall, pressing his palms against the aluminum sheeting. An electrical motor whined and strained. “10.” Adam opened a small access door. He pulled the handle. “9.” Nothing. “Do something!” yelled Malcolm. “8.” “Wait for it!” “When?” “7.” “They’ll work!” “6.” “When? Solstice Day?” “5.” “They will!” “4.” “3.” “They…!” “2.” “Sunspots!”
Book 3-Jonny Quest and the Return of the Dark Menace
Words 93,000
Chapter 1 - The Reluctant Warrior
Walking away from his family was not the way Jonny Quest expected the summer of 2091 to end. But there he stood on Airlock 30, his battle-scarred Jump shuttle fueled and awaiting his almost-fifteen-year-old little fingers. He was determined to pilot into an irreversible decision. He had caused a horrific accident and he knew his family would never forgive him, even if his friend Chip and his sister’s unborn baby survived. He believed from here on, no one would accept him as a true Quest.
He glanced around one last time at the cavernous, gray-green SkyGuard Hangar Deck where activity continued to decrease since the conflict with the Elite Guard had ended. Deckhands had tied down the one hundred sleeping Blacktip Fighter vessels. Ambient lighting from the three-story high titanium ceiling had been reduced to twilight. And the shouts and chatter from boasting pilots faded as the men and women exited for Leave. Peace had returned to Terren Space Station. But there was no harmony for Jonny. Atoning for his self-centeredness meant his war with himself had just begun. “Goodbye,” he whispered, pulling the zipper up on his black flight jacket. “Mom, Dad, Jenny . . . Jody, you’ll be better off without me.” Jonny stepped inside the boxy shuttle craft, secured the hatch, and threw the lever, automatic locks engaging as the seal hissed tight. He slid into the pilot seat, buckled his seatbelt, and gripped the “U” shaped steering wheel, finding it torque friendly. Next, he flicked a console switch and the engine pre-burner ignited. Usually the rattling thrilled him, as would the strong whiff of charcoal. But not this time. He worried about accessing the outer dock door. He had no computer on board, so deception was his only hope. He pressed the radio button. “Bridge. This is Skymoa Shuttle, SkyGuard Airlock 30, requesting communication with Ensign Ulanova.” She’d been his trusted friend and would help him no matter what. “Terren Bridge here,” came a man’s voice through the dashboard speaker. “Identification, please.” “This is Jonny Starr . . . uh, just Jonny.” “Well, Just Jonny, this is Lt. Wise. Ensign Ulanova is on Leave.” Rats, he thought. Double rats! “Sir, maybe you can help me. I’m, uh, undertaking a duty for Lt. Riggers, you know, my Tuoso. I need to prove . . . to prove . . .” “I am well aware of what you need to prove, young man.” “Sir, I need access to the airlock. Launch Command is not on duty.” “They’re on Leave, too,” Wise’s voice said. “Can’t this wait a few days?” “I suppose, but you know how Lt. Riggers gets when things don’t go his way.” “Perhaps I should clear this with Captain Gallant,” Wise responded. “He’s still aboard.” “No, no, he’s probably in the Infirmary holding my sister’s hand. Sir, I’m touring Terren only once, one orbit, back in ten minutes. Promise.” Wise didn’t say anything right away. Jonny did catch whispering in the radio signal. Perhaps the Lieutenant was checking— “Nine,” Wise replied. “Understand? We may be on stand down but things are still jumpy. A new computer virus is annoying Lt. Lance, and you know how he hates glitch demons.” “Thank you, sir. Set Airlock 30 on automation. I’ll handle the shuttle.” “Stand by,” Wise said. Jonny let out a deep sigh. Almost too easy. But since I’m not coming back . . . Glancing out the forward solarshield, he noticed Lt. Wise kept his part of the bargain. The airlock’s massive white steel accordion doors turned like gigantic barrels and wrapped around the launch pad which rotated to point his shuttle toward the outer doors. Above those doors, a row of status lights changed; red “hold” went dark, yellow “stand by” went bright, and white “pressurize” held steady. When the green “launch” lit, the two halves of the outer doors rolled apart and tucked inside the bulkhead walls. Sunlight filled the airlock, and the Station’s rotation made it appear the stars in space did the traveling, a sight Jonny loved. With a nudge of the console throttle, Jonny initiated the main thrusters and shot his square ship into space. He made a sharp starboard turn and sailed away as fast as his escape boat would carry him. There was nothing to stop him now. As he traveled, he knew there was no point in looking back. Terren, a giant wheel and spoke space station, would quickly fall behind and disappear into the coldness. Ahead the brilliant blue Earth floated with the Mining Consortium’s asteroid field arcing into the globe’s curvature, his destination far beyond them. In his peripherals, however, many vessels and lights serenely crisscrossed nearby space. He spotted a lone Blacktip on patrol, several StellarAir skyliners dipping their nosecones into Earth’s upper atmosphere, and in the extreme distance the floating white blur of China’s Tsung Station. He so wished he had questioned Lt. Riggers as to why Capron’s supposed dreaded enemy came to his aid during the battle with the menacing Captain Skyler. Jonny sure would have enjoyed watching the video playback of that dogfight. But he never spoke to Riggers. He’d carry that regret with him forever, too. As Jonny passed beyond Terren’s line of sight, he shut down his engines to conserve fuel. Maneuvering thrusters and inertia would keep him in the lane and on target. His E.T.A. of about an hour would leave him time to reflect on the memories that justified his self-banishment. It was yesterday. He was on the moon. He was participating in the Citizen Pathfinder games to certify his Wings. He ended up thrashing in choppy black water, his fists swinging, his temper off the charts, murderous uncontrollable rage directed at his twin brother Jody. Then they were fighting on board a rescue boat. He fell into an automatoid manning the wheel, and this action sent the vessel crashing into a pier, thus injuring his friend Chip and sister Jenny. He let it happen by ignoring a chance to stop it. He saved himself at the last second by igniting his antigravity skates and flying away from the disaster. How could he have done such a thing? He was only a boy, a kid famous for sneaking out of Trigonometry so he could steal the latest starjet prototype and test its spunkiness in space. Sure he was accident prone, scraping his dad’s fender on airlock doorframes. What teenager didn’t. But to turn on his own little brother then cause such a horrible catastrophe. He’d never experienced such hatred and it came from inside him. Him of all people! He suspected puberty was the cause of his emotional outbursts. He was further sent off balance by learning a month earlier that a medical scan revealed he had been a victim of a gene theory experiment, the culprit and reason still unknown. He had acquired the ability to rapidly heal. A simple cut took moments to repair itself, possibly a side effect of this gene alteration. A week ago he actually attempted to end his life out of fear of his ultimate transformation, whatever that would be. It was Jody who talked reason into him. Yet he still abused Jody during their competition on the moon. He had no idea why. I/O, their android mentor, had once said that he and Jody couldn’t exist without each other, like positive and negative, day and night, love and hate. They’d always had a friendly sibling rivalry; at least he thought it so. One nanosecond they’d be at each other’s throat, then the next they’d be in the ‘Rama for a quick game of VoidSurf. But more and more Jonny believed something had been tearing them apart, something inside him the cause, Jody the victim. Another reason Jonny left home was to find a cure to his medical abnormality. A certain doctor, working for Major Capron’s Elite Guard, claimed she could cure him. This Doctor Angel said she was his only hope. After the damage he had done to his friends and family, he decided to seek her out and turn himself over to whatever remedy she could offer. Hopefully she would restore his humanity, physically and emotionally. Perhaps then, he’d be worthy of returning to his family and asking—begging—for their redemption. Floating in a high orbit ahead was the object of all his misery—the Dark Energy mini-galaxy, a mass of black and blue magnetic eddies swirling around a glowing purple center, a growing vortex that could one day threaten Earth’s existence. Jonny had meddled with the laws of physics by using a science project to capture a sample of this strange cosmic radiation which got away from him and took on a life of its own. Somehow he had to neutralize this vortex and save the entire planet. That was an awful lot for a lone teenager to undertake. Jonny turned his steering wheel and guided his shuttle through a portside course well away from the mini-galaxy. He felt his ship running into magnetized vortex tendrils, simulating bumps-in-the-road. The wallops subsided the further away he sailed. It wasn’t long before he reached the asteroid field. Here space was calm. Blinking red Marker Buoys indicated the perimeters. Jonny planned to travel high above the field to avoid spooking the automated security procedures. Each asteroid, perhaps two dozen, was parked in a stationary orbit several thousand kilometers apart. As he steered his shuttle above the first rock, the scene reminded him of ball bearings lined up in a Qusion skateboard strut. Most of the rocks where dusty brown and pitted with craters. Some were peanut-shaped, others oval or huge chunks, all the mining company’s preferences; C-type – carbon-chrondite composite, grade VS1 or VS2. Each asteroid was kept in place by a Pusher Engine mounted— Wait a microsecond. What’s wrong there? Jonny couldn’t believe his eyes. For a better look, he popped his maneuvering thrusters and glided down a hundred feet above the rock surface. The Pusher on the first asteroid had been obliterated. The three colossal aft engine cones, normally pointing toward space, were reduced to shards and scattered around a shallow crater. The fifty-foot-long main chassis had been ripped open, and the four punctured fuel tanks stood like gaping mouths with jagged teeth. Sabotage! He wondered if Terren or SkyGuard Command knew anything about this, or did his father. He should report . . . No, he couldn’t. He was no longer a true Quest. He needed to concentrate on his mission. His future depended on it, and his very life. He nudged the console throttle and his mains fired. He sailed high and swerved back above the string of dead rocks. In moments he passed beyond their last companion. Alone in space again, he swept through Earth’s bluish haze, watched the glittering overhead stars and noticed the man-in-the-moon frowning, probably with a memory of his bad deeds. But his trip was nearly over. For ahead in front of the heaven’s black backdrop floated his destination. Nimitz Space Station.
The Science Behind Jonny Quest UniverseBy C. J. AtticusCopyright 2021 C. J. Atticus
I am often asked if I applied practical science to create my unique science fiction universe. The answer is affirmative. I took current technology and evolved it. As a writer I must invent functioning technology that, even if mixed with a dash of whiz-bang, makes you believe the impossible could exist. Envisioning yourself speeding in a rented Dune Skipper across a glass-speckled dusty lunarscape while eating a peanut butter and sardine sandwich (you know you want one) means I’ve done my job. So check your harness, press “go” on your rocket ship, and follow me above the clouds. I’ll show you how it was done.
The Beginning I’ve read and seen all the great sci-fi from Isaac Asimov to Arthur C. Clark and Captain Video to Star Wars. Many authors, as in Star Trek, do an excellent job blending science fact with science fantasy. The makers of Star Wars, however, rarely explain their technology, nor need to; they use tech as matter-of-factly as we use batteries. To allow my characters to interact seamlessly with fantastical outer space and terrestrial locations, I sometimes replace sensible physics with daydreams. This is the beauty of science fiction.
For my book series Jonny Quest Saga, I decided extreme futuristic technology had already been done enough. So I chose near-future rather than distant-future, which meant late twenty-first century versus the twenty-fourth or beyond. The setting is 2091, when science quite possibly could perfect the many disciplines required for people to live and work in outer space. 2091 will also be a time when many of us will live and benefit from these eventual discoveries. And they will happen; science never stands still. Let’s look at how I make these possible even in the early twenty-first century.
Power
The Science - Our society today has one basic energy resource―electricity. We use it in everything: home appliances, computers, medical and manufacturing machinery, even the watch on your wrist. We generate this power through hydroelectric dams, nuclear reactors, and generators powered by wind, water, or oil. But what about the future? Will we have enough oil to power our instruments? What if an unknown law of physics short-circuits all electricity? Could you cope without your cell phone? The Science Fiction – For my characters to live and travel in space, they needed a compact and renewable energy source. I gave them Qusion, a hybrid of electricity and plasma. Quterium, the core mineral, was discovered in the 2030 moon/asteroid collision debris. It was also found in the Yucatan Peninsula where the Chicxulub asteroid impact caused the dinosaur extinction. The secret to quterium’s ability is its unique atomic structure. Its atoms have nine electron shells, whereas today we know the maximum is seven shells (gold has six, iron has four, and so on). This also allowed quterium to replace silicon in microchips, which yielded an extraordinary sophistication in computing speed.
Artificial Intelligence The Science – Today, work goes on to develop practical artificial intelligence (A.I.). This will allow computers to be more autonomous but continue to support our growing society. But A.I. would remain a tool. Some prognosticators worry that it could go rogue, thus take over the world. I wouldn’t want my home computer telling me when and how to do homework.
The Science Fiction – In 2022, Doctor Joseph Quest perfected artificial intelligence by discovering quterium based microchips that enabled hyper-fast computing. He applied this breakthrough to his I.C.O.N. network which linked the computers in all the Earth’s industries to ease the people out of the world depression. But this ICON 1.1 version had a rather unusual side effect, which you will discover as you read the books. The 1.2 version had an effect I can happily share with you―the development of I/O, the first sentient android who mentors and protects the Quest twins, Jonny and Jody. I/O is also unique amongst the android population. He is a leader, friend, and hero to everyone and everything, except to the 1.1 software version, who hides and schemes within cyberspace.
Superstructures
Like us on Earth, my characters live and pursue their dramas in houses and buildings, but when in space they require more than brick and mortar. To sustain life they must have airtight structures and reliable transportation, plus they need to breathe, eat, and discard waste byproducts. No point living in space if you can’t flush the toilet. But when you do, you can’t just dump it into outer space. Life Support The Science – Currently astronauts are supplied with every need, and most items are recycled or returned to Earth. Water, food, and batteries are carried into space or replenished by unmanned cargo spacecrafts. Except for photovoltaic cells (solar panels) to generate electricity, we are not yet able to manufacture supplies in space. 3D printing could be possible, but raw materials must be launched into orbit as well. There may be a way, however, to utilize the raw materials already migrating through our solar system.
The Science Fiction – While excavating the 2030 moon/asteroid debris, large quantities of precious minerals were discovered embedded in the rock: iron, copper, gold, diamonds, even water. This spawned asteroid mining, now commonplace in 2091. Extracting these materials, especially the water, solved the problems with building habitats in space. (As seen on the Science Channel, we can test water extraction by heating a meteorite fragment in a sealed test tube and watch water droplets form on the inside glass.)
In 2091, a specialized machine provides life support onboard large space-based facilities. The Dynaempyrean Generator is six-hundred feet long and produces oxygen, water, electricity, and rocket fuel, plus it recycles human waste. Asteroid ore is ingested and conveyed to treatment areas where it is crushed and heated. The extracted water turns to steam and is then pumped through turbines. The steam is returned, condensed, and purified for consumption. A portion is separated into oxygen and hydrogen—O for the air handlers, H for thruster fuel and ore furnaces. Human waste is broken down through vacuum pyrolysis, which creates still more fuels and fertilizer for the astrocultural gardens. Spent ore is ejected back onto space barges and delivered to a local Mining Colony where the iron, copper, and other minerals are forged into building materials―pipes, panels, I-beams, etc. This intricate system is dependent upon an out-of-this-world group of ships. Transportation
The Science – The evolution of space flight came through various NASA programs, from unmanned satellites, single passenger Mercury crafts, multi-person ships used in Gemini and Apollo, to the International Space Station. So far, though, it takes months or years to reach our neighboring planets and moons, and man himself is not yet able to survive such long voyages. Finding a faster way to travel is NASA’s optimal dream. The Science Fiction – In the year 2091, space flight is as common as driving a car through town. Quest Industries (QI) markets an extensive catalog of commercial and personal starjets, which includes air and space worthy skyliners for StellarAir, sleek and agile Blacktip Fighters for SkyGuard, the Kestrel Class S1260 transport used by the Nimitz Space Station, and the Mining Consortium’s spunky two-seater Ritedozer capable of chasing and capturing rogue meteor fragments. QI is also developing Earth’s first gravity-defying automobile. Propulsion
The Science – The current type of engine utilized for launch and space flight maneuverability is a chemical based rocket. A fuel and an oxidizer are burned to create thrust. These solid and liquid propellants are made primarily of petroleum products. Future engines could be ion, nuclear, or perhaps fusion. Speed is the roadblock to reaching distant planets and stars. There is no doubt that one day science will achieve a reliable, cost-effective, and deep-space worthy engine. The Science Fiction – The quterium atom led to the development of Qusion Drive, a gravity-assist engine. Gravity binds everything―electrons to nuclei, atoms to atoms, planets to their suns, our feet to the ground―and it can be interactive. Within the engine, a quterium core is surrounded by an iridium shield, vacuum sealed, and exposed to microwave radiation, thus affecting electron polarity which shifts the magnetic field from parallel to anti-parallel, and that attracts or repels the engine and spacecraft to a planet’s or moon’s gravitation field, literally pulling or pushing a craft through space. So efficient is this process that mining barges reach and return captured asteroids within a few weeks.
Space Stations The Science – There have only been a few manned space stations, such as Salyut 1, Skylab, and the International Space Station. These are proficient research platforms but not ideal living quarters. Only much larger facilities would benefit and support human life, but modern science has yet to prove that centrifugal force, what generates the stable gravity we’d require, can be produced in outer space. Some suggest this force cannot exist because there is no gravity in space, while others contend planetary gravity fields would do the job. The Science Fiction – Terren Space Station is a classic wheel and spoke style structure spinning in Earth orbit. Its polished titanium rim spans five-kilometers in diameter and has four connecting tunnels terminating at a central satellite array hub. The rim section is 250 feet wide, 175 feet tall, and has four primary decks for its 5000 residents: (1) Command Deck - station operations, private business suites, and Terren Hotel, (2) Quarter Deck - residents’ apartments, Diversarama, and Arboretum, (3) Evasion Deck - housing one-thousand escape pods, and (4) Operation Deck - StellarAir docking bays, Quest Laboratories, SkyGuard Operations, Dynaempyrean Generator, and Cosmiquarium.
Entertainment
The Science – The human condition requires periodic rest and diversion from the daily grind. The International Space Station offers email, news feed, music, and an occasional digital movie. Video games are not allowed; they’re too distracting. But staring out the many windows at the spinning blue Earth below can be entertaining in itself. The Science Fiction – Onboard the Terren Space Station, teenagers enjoy the Diversarama, a virtual reality domed theater that utilizes iridolucent cell technology to generate live-action and interactive scenes. Gamers stand and control omnidirectional treadmills which simulate cars, starjets, and even surfboards. VoidSurf is the most popular game. Players “surf” stellar matter swirling around a massive black hole and earn points for avoiding rogue meteors and comets. Conclusion
There is much more to the Quest Universe than can be described in this short article, like anti-gravity Q Skates, Arc-cycles, the Bluepearl, Toid Com, Grout Creepers, and even the much maligned but necessary zero-gravity toilet. But you’ll have to read the books. Please check out the Jonny Quest Saga by visiting my website www.cjatticus.com, then take the book to your Commissary. A peanut butter and sardine sandwich awaits you.
C. J. Atticus
The Beginning I’ve read and seen all the great sci-fi from Isaac Asimov to Arthur C. Clark and Captain Video to Star Wars. Many authors, as in Star Trek, do an excellent job blending science fact with science fantasy. The makers of Star Wars, however, rarely explain their technology, nor need to; they use tech as matter-of-factly as we use batteries. To allow my characters to interact seamlessly with fantastical outer space and terrestrial locations, I sometimes replace sensible physics with daydreams. This is the beauty of science fiction.
For my book series Jonny Quest Saga, I decided extreme futuristic technology had already been done enough. So I chose near-future rather than distant-future, which meant late twenty-first century versus the twenty-fourth or beyond. The setting is 2091, when science quite possibly could perfect the many disciplines required for people to live and work in outer space. 2091 will also be a time when many of us will live and benefit from these eventual discoveries. And they will happen; science never stands still. Let’s look at how I make these possible even in the early twenty-first century.
Power
The Science - Our society today has one basic energy resource―electricity. We use it in everything: home appliances, computers, medical and manufacturing machinery, even the watch on your wrist. We generate this power through hydroelectric dams, nuclear reactors, and generators powered by wind, water, or oil. But what about the future? Will we have enough oil to power our instruments? What if an unknown law of physics short-circuits all electricity? Could you cope without your cell phone? The Science Fiction – For my characters to live and travel in space, they needed a compact and renewable energy source. I gave them Qusion, a hybrid of electricity and plasma. Quterium, the core mineral, was discovered in the 2030 moon/asteroid collision debris. It was also found in the Yucatan Peninsula where the Chicxulub asteroid impact caused the dinosaur extinction. The secret to quterium’s ability is its unique atomic structure. Its atoms have nine electron shells, whereas today we know the maximum is seven shells (gold has six, iron has four, and so on). This also allowed quterium to replace silicon in microchips, which yielded an extraordinary sophistication in computing speed.
Artificial Intelligence The Science – Today, work goes on to develop practical artificial intelligence (A.I.). This will allow computers to be more autonomous but continue to support our growing society. But A.I. would remain a tool. Some prognosticators worry that it could go rogue, thus take over the world. I wouldn’t want my home computer telling me when and how to do homework.
The Science Fiction – In 2022, Doctor Joseph Quest perfected artificial intelligence by discovering quterium based microchips that enabled hyper-fast computing. He applied this breakthrough to his I.C.O.N. network which linked the computers in all the Earth’s industries to ease the people out of the world depression. But this ICON 1.1 version had a rather unusual side effect, which you will discover as you read the books. The 1.2 version had an effect I can happily share with you―the development of I/O, the first sentient android who mentors and protects the Quest twins, Jonny and Jody. I/O is also unique amongst the android population. He is a leader, friend, and hero to everyone and everything, except to the 1.1 software version, who hides and schemes within cyberspace.
Superstructures
Like us on Earth, my characters live and pursue their dramas in houses and buildings, but when in space they require more than brick and mortar. To sustain life they must have airtight structures and reliable transportation, plus they need to breathe, eat, and discard waste byproducts. No point living in space if you can’t flush the toilet. But when you do, you can’t just dump it into outer space. Life Support The Science – Currently astronauts are supplied with every need, and most items are recycled or returned to Earth. Water, food, and batteries are carried into space or replenished by unmanned cargo spacecrafts. Except for photovoltaic cells (solar panels) to generate electricity, we are not yet able to manufacture supplies in space. 3D printing could be possible, but raw materials must be launched into orbit as well. There may be a way, however, to utilize the raw materials already migrating through our solar system.
The Science Fiction – While excavating the 2030 moon/asteroid debris, large quantities of precious minerals were discovered embedded in the rock: iron, copper, gold, diamonds, even water. This spawned asteroid mining, now commonplace in 2091. Extracting these materials, especially the water, solved the problems with building habitats in space. (As seen on the Science Channel, we can test water extraction by heating a meteorite fragment in a sealed test tube and watch water droplets form on the inside glass.)
In 2091, a specialized machine provides life support onboard large space-based facilities. The Dynaempyrean Generator is six-hundred feet long and produces oxygen, water, electricity, and rocket fuel, plus it recycles human waste. Asteroid ore is ingested and conveyed to treatment areas where it is crushed and heated. The extracted water turns to steam and is then pumped through turbines. The steam is returned, condensed, and purified for consumption. A portion is separated into oxygen and hydrogen—O for the air handlers, H for thruster fuel and ore furnaces. Human waste is broken down through vacuum pyrolysis, which creates still more fuels and fertilizer for the astrocultural gardens. Spent ore is ejected back onto space barges and delivered to a local Mining Colony where the iron, copper, and other minerals are forged into building materials―pipes, panels, I-beams, etc. This intricate system is dependent upon an out-of-this-world group of ships. Transportation
The Science – The evolution of space flight came through various NASA programs, from unmanned satellites, single passenger Mercury crafts, multi-person ships used in Gemini and Apollo, to the International Space Station. So far, though, it takes months or years to reach our neighboring planets and moons, and man himself is not yet able to survive such long voyages. Finding a faster way to travel is NASA’s optimal dream. The Science Fiction – In the year 2091, space flight is as common as driving a car through town. Quest Industries (QI) markets an extensive catalog of commercial and personal starjets, which includes air and space worthy skyliners for StellarAir, sleek and agile Blacktip Fighters for SkyGuard, the Kestrel Class S1260 transport used by the Nimitz Space Station, and the Mining Consortium’s spunky two-seater Ritedozer capable of chasing and capturing rogue meteor fragments. QI is also developing Earth’s first gravity-defying automobile. Propulsion
The Science – The current type of engine utilized for launch and space flight maneuverability is a chemical based rocket. A fuel and an oxidizer are burned to create thrust. These solid and liquid propellants are made primarily of petroleum products. Future engines could be ion, nuclear, or perhaps fusion. Speed is the roadblock to reaching distant planets and stars. There is no doubt that one day science will achieve a reliable, cost-effective, and deep-space worthy engine. The Science Fiction – The quterium atom led to the development of Qusion Drive, a gravity-assist engine. Gravity binds everything―electrons to nuclei, atoms to atoms, planets to their suns, our feet to the ground―and it can be interactive. Within the engine, a quterium core is surrounded by an iridium shield, vacuum sealed, and exposed to microwave radiation, thus affecting electron polarity which shifts the magnetic field from parallel to anti-parallel, and that attracts or repels the engine and spacecraft to a planet’s or moon’s gravitation field, literally pulling or pushing a craft through space. So efficient is this process that mining barges reach and return captured asteroids within a few weeks.
Space Stations The Science – There have only been a few manned space stations, such as Salyut 1, Skylab, and the International Space Station. These are proficient research platforms but not ideal living quarters. Only much larger facilities would benefit and support human life, but modern science has yet to prove that centrifugal force, what generates the stable gravity we’d require, can be produced in outer space. Some suggest this force cannot exist because there is no gravity in space, while others contend planetary gravity fields would do the job. The Science Fiction – Terren Space Station is a classic wheel and spoke style structure spinning in Earth orbit. Its polished titanium rim spans five-kilometers in diameter and has four connecting tunnels terminating at a central satellite array hub. The rim section is 250 feet wide, 175 feet tall, and has four primary decks for its 5000 residents: (1) Command Deck - station operations, private business suites, and Terren Hotel, (2) Quarter Deck - residents’ apartments, Diversarama, and Arboretum, (3) Evasion Deck - housing one-thousand escape pods, and (4) Operation Deck - StellarAir docking bays, Quest Laboratories, SkyGuard Operations, Dynaempyrean Generator, and Cosmiquarium.
Entertainment
The Science – The human condition requires periodic rest and diversion from the daily grind. The International Space Station offers email, news feed, music, and an occasional digital movie. Video games are not allowed; they’re too distracting. But staring out the many windows at the spinning blue Earth below can be entertaining in itself. The Science Fiction – Onboard the Terren Space Station, teenagers enjoy the Diversarama, a virtual reality domed theater that utilizes iridolucent cell technology to generate live-action and interactive scenes. Gamers stand and control omnidirectional treadmills which simulate cars, starjets, and even surfboards. VoidSurf is the most popular game. Players “surf” stellar matter swirling around a massive black hole and earn points for avoiding rogue meteors and comets. Conclusion
There is much more to the Quest Universe than can be described in this short article, like anti-gravity Q Skates, Arc-cycles, the Bluepearl, Toid Com, Grout Creepers, and even the much maligned but necessary zero-gravity toilet. But you’ll have to read the books. Please check out the Jonny Quest Saga by visiting my website www.cjatticus.com, then take the book to your Commissary. A peanut butter and sardine sandwich awaits you.
C. J. Atticus