Free Evacuation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 2) by K. D. McAdams Page B

whiteboard.” I’m not sure how to begin. If I knew that, I would have figured out the rest of it, I suspect.
    “You’re not trying out for the spring musical,” Cassandra says. She is critical of a pastime she never participated in or understood. “If you don’t have anything, please don’t waste our time. Let’s try and be adult about this.”
    Instead of thinking frantically, I stop thinking altogether. After a deep breath, my first thought is that I solved this problem yesterday. Let your subconscious talk: it has all the answers.
    “Time is what it is really all about.” They both seem startled when I speak. “What is the best multiplier you think is reasonable for the solar sail? My estimates are about 1.3x the speed of light. To make math easier, I’ll generously round that up to 1.5x.” I see no dissent on their faces. I actually think that it is closer to 1.15x the speed of light, but I want to give them some credit.
    “Also, if I recall, the closest planet with even a chance of sustaining life is about 42 light-years away. That means it will take us 28 years to get there,” I say, and let this timeframe sink in for a second or two. “The international space station measures its supplies in days.”
    “Seamus, your goal was not to highlight the challenges we face with our approach. You are supposed to be telling us what your better solution is.” Cassandra has her hands on her hips in defiance. If I don’t give her something good, she may tune me out altogether.
    “You’re right.” I turn and walk to the , whiteboard and they both follow me. On the board I draw two spheres and label one “Earth” and the other “X.” Drawing a line with an arrow between the two, I turn and face them. “Earth, we’re here. Planet X is where we need to go,” I explain. “If we can’t cover the distance between them any faster, we need to make the distance shorter.” I erase the planet X sphere and redraw it closer to the sphere representing Earth.
    “Ha!” Cassandra thinks she’s won. “Seamus, you’re talking about warp drive or something similar here. Since you’re the one who wants to talk about time, let me remind you that we have weeks, maybe months, to get something done.”
    “With your help, I can have a prototype done in a week, a full model in two and production ready in four,” I say. It has all come together in my head. I speak the truth and I truly believe this idea will come together.
    “I need more convincing than your say-so,” Cassandra says. “Where is your proof that it is possible to warp the time-space continuum?” Cassandra has challenged some of the top Ph.D.’s in the world. She is more than comfortable questioning me.
    “The solar sail paper,” I say. When you talk about things you know, it’s easy to have confidence. “They used a theoretical Tantalum-skinned space vehicle for their tests. Before breaking the light barrier, there was a noted build-up of electrons on the surface of the craft. After passing the light barrier, the electrons were gone, but there was an unexplained deflection in trajectory. In fact, if you remember, they had to account for the deflection in the angle of the sail.”
    “Seamus, we cannot build a Tantalum-skinned spacecraft.” Cassandra isn’t thinking about what can happen; she’s thinking about what can’t happen.
    “We don’t have to!” My issue now will be controlling my excitement. “My reactor manipulates dark energy. The dark energy accelerates electrons and condenses them in one place. Having so many in a small space generates plasma, which we are able to turn into electricity. But we have a gate at the input to the power pack. You know, you built one. Did I ever tell you how I figured out the need for that gate?”
    “No,” Cassandra says. Now she is weary of being schooled on physics.
    “I was ten. Running a mathematical model never occurred to me. I had been building my own computers and creating custom