Let’s light this candle!
Summary from the Planning Thread for easy reference:
Who: Any MuseBloggers who wish to attend. If you wish to assume the persona of a technician, astronaut, or spy or just create some sort of backstory for yourself, you’re welcome, but it’s not mandatory.
When: March 21st to April 17th, 2011.
Where: On the Yuri’s Night thread. Aboard Space Station Odyssey.
Food:
-In general: Foods that use scientific equipment for cooking, like an aspirator, gelatin… freeze-dried “astronaut†foods. (Not that we don’t have gravity, it’s just traditional.)
-Appetizers:
Fruit, Steamed dough (little soft bread things, Chinese), bread, soup, bruschetta.-Entrees:
Pasta, Salmon/crab/veggie/whatever else puffs (little dough balls with stuffing, kind of like dumplings), puffin puffs sushi…-Desserts:
Cookies, flavored ice, gelato, astronaut ice cream, chocolate fountain…-Drinks:
Made by a machine featuring lots of chemical equipment and tubing.-Miscellany:
Food and drinks served by robots. All catering courtesy of Piggy’s Happy Bottom Riding Club. (AKA the Hare and Hedgepig)Décor: 2001: A Space Odyssey is the general reference. 2011 as seen by 1961.
– The Ballroom: A large ballroom entered through sliding doors in the Star Trek fashion. Models and framed photographs showing the highlights of spaceflight and SF in the past 50 years decorate the room. (Yes, lots of gorgeous Hubble shots) We are aboard a rotating space station, and large floor-to-ceiling “windows†will show the rest of the station, the Earth below, the moon and stars, and every now and then, shuttles and cargo ships flying up to dock with the station. Periodically, there will be announcements over a PA system to announce the “dockingsâ€.
– The Rooftop Garden/The Pleasure Dome: Like the regular rooftop garden, only beneath an immense geodesic dome through which outer space can be seen. There are ornamental plantings, fountains containing statues of the planets, and models of rockets at various fractions of their actual size to stroll amongst. Telescopes are set up to allow guests to view various celestial objects they may find interesting- all are computer controlled, just punch in what you want to see and the scope will orient itself.
Music: A live band, playing a mix of 60s classics, New Age electronica, and any other favorites requested. Any MBer who wishes to drop in and play with the band may. Some specific music featured will include Holst’s The Planets and the music from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Dress: Futuristic formal. Black suits and ties, glow-in-the-dark dresses, neatly pressed jumpsuits, shirtsleeves with pocket protectors and skinny ties, Starfleet dress uniform, and the like. Go for a 60s feel, but nothing too hippie.
The goings-on: To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Yuri Gagarin’s pioneering spaceflight, and the completion of Space Station Odyssey, various distinguished employees from the space agencies of the world have been invited to enjoy a civilized evening of dancing, music, intelligent conversation, and Earthwatching. (Binoculars provided at windows by wungs.) But keep on your toes, as befits the anniversary of such a prominent Cold War event, espionage and intrigue are in the air…
((Kudos on the Alan Shepard reference, GAPAs.
Can you put the description I just posted on the planning thread at the top so that people can look at it for reference?))
Be happy to once I’m back at home base.
((A-okay, see you over the hill.))
We’ve finished decorating just in time! Whew! The guests will be arriving any minute now.
The wungs have been cooking all day, and they’re just putting the last touches on the food as people come in.
The band is tuning their instruments and tinkling out little melodies to warm up.
I just ran out after decorating to change. I’ll be back in a little while!
“So how was the flight?” Matt asks, speaking from Cologne Control.
“Pretty good. It was clear at Vandenberg and we took off on schedule.” I say, brushing off the leg of my blue uniform. “When’s Jangs supposed to get here?”
“He’ll be on the next flight from Kourou, it should get there in about an hour.”
“Okay, good. That gives me some time to enjoy myself before I have to freak out. Over and out, Matt.” I wave, end the call and exit the videophone booth. My boots click against the shiny white floor as I make my way to the pneumatic elevator up from the shuttle bay to the ballroom level.
It still feels strange to be walking down hallways I saw as blueprints for years. I certainly don’t need a map to find my way around Space Station Odyssey. I just have to hope Director Jangs will be impressed once he comes aboard- the future of the solar sail project will be riding on it…
I take a deep breath and try to shake the thoughts off as the elevator doors open. This is a happy occasion, and I’m incredibly lucky to be celebrating the 50th anniversary of human spaceflight in such an appropriate place.
The ballroom door slides open as I approach and I see the interior. There doesn’t seem to be anyone here yet, but the models and artwork look stunning, and there’s a great view of the Earth out the far window. I decide to get some food and wait for someone else to show up.
I walk into the ballroom, along with a large crowd from the spaceship docking.
“All passengers on the arrived transport please proceed to your destination. All passengers on the arrived transport please proceed to your destingation. A map is avaliable at the main desk, located on the top floor. Thank you.” An announcer announces. I don’t need a map for where I’m going- the life support systems are located under the ballrooms. Entering the shiny ballroom, I look around. The room is fairly empty, but I am glad to see another engineer who worked on the spaceship here.
“Hi,” I say, walking over. “I’m Sergei.”
“Oh, hi!” She says “I’m Ariana. I can see you’re an engineer too.”
“Yeah, I worked on life support. What did you do?”
“Oh, general stability issues. Life support, you say? Were you the one that designed the excess carbon dioxide to nanotube capturing system?”
“Well, I did help with that…” I say. “I hope some more people are coming soon.”
“I hope so, too.” I say, eating some freeze-dried apple slices. They look and crunch like potato chips, but they taste very different, naturally. “You’re from the Russian sector of IASED, I presume?”
I wander through the door. “Er, why do I have a Happy Bottom Riding Club?”
“Yes, and I take it you are American? Or British? I’m terrible at accents.” I say. Moving over to the buffet table, I pick up a mysterious gelatinous blob. “What’s this, do you suppose?” I ask. I go to tear off a piece, and it suddenly bursts into a cloud of scented gas. “Hmm… smells a bit like… a puffin puff? I didn’t think they’d have them here.”
“The plannin comittee always finds a way to fit them in at every event.” Ariana says. “I’m not sure why.”
“Happy Bottom Riding Club? That’s a new one”, I say, walking in on Piggy’s confusion. “But I don’t know either. Must’ve been one of the planners. Ask one of them?”
“I think the planning committee came up with that, too- I believe it’s a reference to the bar near Edwards Air Force Base that was popular with the early astronauts.” I say, joining the conversation. “The only thing they like to work in more than nostalgia is puffin puffs.”
I enter, wondering at the excellence of the planning of this night. I wander over the the food and begin looking at the wide array of space-oriented food. I pick out some interesting-looking cookies and wander my way over to dance a bit.
“Speaking of puffin puffs, can someone direct me to the food? I’m a mite peckish. I hope there are freeze-dried banana slices.”
BANANA CHIPS. LOVE ‘EM.
… Ahem. Back to your ball thing. Never ye mind little ole me.
-A
“The food’s over here,” I say, and point him in the proper direction. “And I suspect there are.”
I finish my chips and excuse myself from the conversations in the knot of people by the door. I head over to the dance floor, where the band sounds like it’s starting up “Mercury, the Winged Messenger”.
“Hey, great outfit.” I say to KA.
I enter the ballroom wearing a deep violet dress dotted with silver lights. After admiring the decor, I head for the snack tables, where everyone seems to be.
(Hey, we could have had a zero-gravity rooftop maze! It could go in all directions, and have handholds and ladders on the walls, and … Ah well, maybe next year. A formal dance IN SPACE is cool enough. *squee*)
I enter the ballroom in a black dress and sleeves with all kinds of gadgets and screens on them. I wander about, looking out the windows.
One of the screens on my right arm begins scrolling the names of the people already present. The screen next to in scrolls the names of those who have not yet arrived.
I bump into Unintended Pun accidentally.
“Oh, sorry! I wasn’t looking! I’ve kind of got something on my mind.” I apologize. “Ariana.” I hold out my hand to shake.
I shake Ariana’s hand.
“You can call me Yupitera. This is a really nice place! I’m so glad you got to have this party.”
I walk toward the food with Ariana. There is a lot of fruit, and I pick up a few berries.
Even though many people haven’t arrived yet, the party is beginning to get a bit more interesting. I eat some fruit, dried banana chips and dehydrated salinated Solanum tuberosum.
“I’m glad, too. This whole Odyssey project has gone more or less flawlessly, and under-budget, too.” I comment, to Yupitera. “Do you work for IASED?”
“No, I do research on LIGO, and I fly when I get the chance. Who do you work with?”
“The gravity wave project? I think I saw a newsholo about that not too long ago. Very interesting physics there. I’m an engineer with the in-space construction division of IASED.”
((Whoops. I don’t think I actually explained the acronym on this thread. It’s the International Agency for Space Exploration and Development.))
I walk in, wearing a black uniform and data-display glasses. Looking around, I see a lot of people, most of which are unfamiliar. I shrug and walk over to the nearest wall, from which I casually survey the area.
I check my arm again for the present guests. I wonder when everyone will get here.
I reply “Yes, It’s a really interesting project. I was up in Washington last week running some tests for my next paper. We’ve been waiting for a good collision so we can get more data, and right now there isn’t a ton going on.”
I wave to Mago Berry across the room.
“This is a nice song. Who is it by?” I ask Ariana.
“I think this is from Gustav Holst’s ‘The Planets’.” I say, following Yupitera with my eyes as she waves to the new arrival.
A wung comes by and offers us two pairs of binoculars. I take one and thank en.
“Want to Earthwatch?” I ask Yupitera.
((Wow, a moderately slow ball. That’s an anomaly.))
I stroll in, slightly late, and look around. The ballroom is beautiful, the music is perfect. I begin wandering toward one of the conversation groups, snagging a steamed roll from a table on the way over.
“Thanks, Kai.” I lift the binoculars to my eyes. The earth is bright white to me, with a little blue. I adjust the binoculars.
“It’s nice to look at something with just lenses and my eyes. Usually I’m behind a computer screen at work. Seeing the Earth from the outside is really weird to me. I’m used to pictures and graphs.”
I pop up a panel from my left arm. Positioning the Earth inside the rectangle, I take a photo.
“Whenever I go somewhere famous, I like to get a ‘postcard picture’. Then, when I see that place on tv or online, I remember that I was there and it looked just like the picture.”
“That’s a smart idea. Were you able to get any pics of the station when your shuttle was approaching? I know sometimes it’s hard with the small windows.” I ask, while adjusting the binoculars. We’re over North America, and the coral reefs around the Bahamas are a wonderful shade of aqua.
I think of Gagarin’s first words from space- “I see Earth, it’s so beautiful.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, it is.”
((ALERT: Since we’ve come back from our little trip to the 19th century, how about coming back to the alternate 21st?))
“I tried to get a picture, but it looks really tiny and there’s a lot of glare. I’ll try again when I’m leaving though.”
I gaze at the earth below. The screen on my right arm hasn’t changed for a while.
“Someone should send a message to the ground station. I wonder what’s holding up all the shuttles.”
“Yes, I believe Director Jangs should have been here already.” I say. “I’m sure they’d have made an announcement if there’d been an accident or something. They’re probably just queueing to dock.” I shake off the thought.
“So, have you always been interested in space?”
((Maybe this was a bad time of year for a party…))
“What? Sorry. Sometimes I just zone out and stare off into space. Eh.
Oh, I liked space when I was little but I didn’t really get into the science until high school. It’s actually a lame story of how I found out I like science a lot.”
I slide my finger across a touchscreen on the inside of my right arm. The device is supposed to be receiving signals from incoming ships, but it seems to be malfunctioning tonight. Every time I’ve checked the screen there were just background signals from the space station and the odd satellite. I wonder if the screen is right…
(I think that most schools get pretty busy right around spring break)
I wander over to the window and look at the “Blue Marble”, noticing how unusually quiet the ballroom is. The band starts up a new song.
I am floating away
Lost in a silent ballet
I’m dreaming you’re out in the blue, and I am right beside you
Awake to take in the view …
(Hm. It seems to take Dalek invasions and evil pirhana plants to get people to post on these “virtual party” threads.)
“I spent a lot of time when I was younger staring at the sky. I didn’t think I would ever actually, you know, be here. It’s really incredible when you think about it.”
(Hopefully more people will be coming soon, now that we’re close to Yuri’s Night itself)
I rush into the ballroom. ‘So sorry I’m late, everyone! Ran into some technical difficulties during take off, but we managed to dock all right. Everything looks splendid!’ I walk around the ballroom, admiring all the details. ‘Does anyone happen to know where Ariana is? Dr Robertson, that is.’
“Oh, I’m right here!” I announce, seeing that Selenium is looking for me. I see that many new guest have arrived and are enjoying themselves, and that the band has started up Owl City.
“I’m so glad to all of you made it! We were getting worried!” I announce. “It’s almost time for the toasts to Gagarin to start. Who wants to go first?”
I enter, hurrying over to Dr. Ariana.
“Sorry, sorry! We had a bit of trouble…” I trail off as I realize they are preparing a toast.
I rush in along with Mikazuki, and prepare to go to visit the “rooftop” garden when I realize that a toast is beginning. I join everyone else.
‘I think that honour should fall to you, Ariana,’ I say. ‘I’ll go next if you want. Is everyone ready?’
I pluck a glass of punch from a nearby balloon.
“Finally, everyone is arriving! Whew! I was worried for a while.”
“Okay…” I take a deep breath, steeling myself against stage fright.
“50 years ago today, Yuri Gagarin became the first human being ever to travel into outer space. This inaugurated a new era in human history. We’re here to celebrate Gagarin, but also many others, both those who came before and those who followed.”
“Carl Sagan once said that there were people who were born before an airplane ever flew who in their old age saw probes launched bound for the stars. My maternal grandmother was born in 1918, when the practical value of the airplane was only just becoming visible above the battlefields of Europe. It would be almost a decade before Robert Goddard was able to design a simple liquid-fuel rocket capable of ascending a mere 50 feet. Space travel was the stuff of science fiction.”
“I submitted my grandmother’s name to an online list that will be carried onboard the Mars Science Laboratory rover Curiosity when it launches later this year. My grandmother will- with all hope- live to know her name is on the surface of Mars.”
“My mother was born in 1958, one year after the first satellite orbited the Earth. She was three years old at the time of Gagarin’s flight and eleven when the first man walked on the moon. It’s quite probable that she’ll enjoy a tourist flight to space sometime in the near future, and she may well retire to a space colony.”
“I was born in 1993. There have been people continuously living in space for more than half of my life, on the International Space Station. So now there’s us. The Third Generation of the Space Age.”
“Imagine what WE’LL see.”
“It’s our time. The stars are calling. And, in the words of Mr. Gagarin- ‘Poyekhali’- off we go!”
((Anybody else going to do a toast? Sel?))
((Well, okay, I guess we should wrap this up happily…))
“Very well said, Dr. Robinson.” I hear the familiar voice from behind me, slow, with a slight Florida accent, and a chill goes up my spine.
I turn around, and he’s right there, the tall, skinny, white-haired man wearing wire-framed glasses-
David Z. Jangs, Director of the International Agency for Space Exploration and Development.
“D-Director Jangs! We were wondering if your shuttle from Kourou had made it here okay, I know there were some problems with some of the other ones and-” I stutter, trying not to embarrass myself even as I chastise myself for doing just that.
“I just came in, but I just have to say, everything I’ve seen so far has been remarkable. Odyssey is so clean and easy to navigate. And it does me proud to see so many bright young faces gathered here to celebrate this momentous anniversary. And that was a wonderful toast. All of you, you’ve done a great job with Space Station Odyssey.” He smiled at me.
I nearly fainted. Regaining my composure, I opened my mouth to speak, but Director Jangs beat me to it.
“And about that solar sail project-”
Another shiver.
“-how soon can you start work?”