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earth.

Although Angela's work was centered on the first 3 years following the launch and the final, essentially unknown, time period at the end of the journey, she still represented the cleanup actions in launching the EHM into history and she knew she was close.

But in spite of the cluttering of scientific observations, summations, and calculations on the surface of her mind’s eye, there was definitely an underlying and disruptive foundation of personal issues that had escalated recently.

Angela Marie Chetland's life had been turned upside down with the death of her only child, Monica, and the alcoholism of her husband, Dr Mark Hemmer. Mark's drinking ramped up following Monica's death and Angie just wasn't willing to add AA visits to the list of complications in her now disrupted research career.

And so, as fate would always have it, something good was surging forward at the same time something bad was rearing its nasty head. The biggest breakthrough in her physics career was about to collide with the second worst thing to hit her personal life... her divorce. Why??? Why now?? she thought.

She yawned as she leaned back utilizing the springy rocking feature of the Deluxe Office Throne. Her eyelids began to flutter and she felt the thoughts and worries of the moment slip into a fog. Suddenly, she jolted forward with a jerking stop in a perfectly upright position.

“No way”, she spoke out loud through an exhaustive breath. “I can not and will not let myself sleep right now!”

She quickly stood up and began pacing around the room in an effort to accelerate her pulse and stimulate her mind. As she walked, she sent a text message to Dr Walker telling him of her inevitable tardiness or even possibly her absence from the 7am morning meeting. He'll just have to deal with it, she thought, they can all just review my accomplishments of this evening on the Shared Project Network.

Her mind traveled to the inside of the EHM, picturing what the final period of her life would be like crammed into a tiny ship in outer space. She would never see anyone she knew here on Earth again.

It was then that a somewhat sad reality struck her. After her divorce…who WOULD there truly be left on Earth that would emotionally bind her to this planet? She could travel into space at light speed and return to a planet that would've aged nearly 300 years and not one living soul would've missed her. Parents gone since her teenage years. No siblings. Relationships with aunts, uncles, and one single cousin were distant and only warranted an occasional holiday phone call. And friends... well... when you've worked as much as she had over the years, friends had become few and far between. In fact, everyone she now considered a friend was going to be with her on this journey.

Right then it all came together in her mind. It almost seemed too perfect. Why would she be viewing the timing of her divorce as a negative when in fact it represents the final binding tie to her Earthly existence? She froze mid-stride caught in a deep thought stare down at her feet. A smile began to seep into her face. Then it overtook the entire countenance of her being.

“Yeah”, she said out loud. “It is actually perfect. My only worries in this stupid divorce settlement are connected to what possessions I'm fighting to get and what Mark wants to grab. But I don't care. It won't be here when I get back anyway. I really... don't.... CARE!” She hoisted her oversized phone up in front of her and tapped out a message to herself to call her lawyer tomorrow and tell him to let Mark have it all. It felt right and was a relief. 

The newly found synergy of her two life events had throttled her adrenaline. She danced back to her desk and flopped down causing the captain’s chair to spin around and aim her directly at the trilogy of vivid plasma monitors. Spanning most of the trio was a physics equation that had not yet resolved. It was Angie's ongoing effort in solving the passenger sustenance weight problem on the journey. Food, oxygen, and hygiene supplies were a considerable mass for 6 people. Even with the hibernation process covering a large part of the trip, their time spent awake was scheduled to be quite lengthy in order for them to physically observe the approach and possible crossing of the EH. Suggestions had been made but were unproven up to this point. Construction of the ship had been completed several weeks ago based on closely estimated weight to passenger to propulsion/fuel ratios. Yet two or three major issues began to challenge the team’s expertise and the October 10th launch date. A date that had been moved back several times.

Worst of all... several large-scale investors were now voicing their objections, with one even threatening to sue for a refund of her entire contribution. “I want to live to see happen what I invested in… for crying out loud!, she had screamed at Angie on the phone. All of this was, of course, explained in the prospectus and disallowed in the final investment agreement. Any attempts to reclaim their monies would be challenged and more than likely defeated in court. But it wasn't necessarily about the money. It was simply about the hassle of having to come up with a reason... an excuse… to throw at them. Just talking to these people made Angie cringe. ‘Begging for forgiveness’ regarding her shortfall, elevated communication with them to the level of just downright painful. Fortunately, Walker played diplomat, absorbing the really heavy fallout in that department. (2)

Her hand almost unconsciously slid over the screen of her iPhone to check the hour. It was by dutiful intention that she never used the wall clock. This prevented her from working 'under the influence' of time constraints, which restricted the flow of her ‘creative juices’. Good grief, she thought, 0145! Quarter to 2 in the morning?!? No doubt, she would absolutely have to miss the 7am meeting. A momentary mind drift, prompted by her phone’s background picture of Monica, was rudely interrupted by a “BATTERY LOW!” window along with its familiar notification tone.

“What?? Great!” she whispered discouragingly under her breath. “So much for this stupid thing” she gruffed out while scooting the flat pad charger into a far back corner of her desk with a back sweep of her fingers. It had quit functioning correctly since the purchase of the new case and she’d been aware of this unfortunate mis-match for quite some time. Now she was silently cursing her failed self-reminders to bring an extra charging cord from the car. “I guess I’ll go get it right now” she murmured with frustration.

She pushed back from the desk and clamped a hand around the strap of her purse-like case as she passed through the doorway. Still staring at her “to do” list which now occupied her cell screen, she nearly collided with the janitor who was mopping along backwards in her direction. She smiled and laughed inwardly at how oblivious he was to her sudden existence in his world. It would’ve been easy to skirt around him and simply blurt out where she was briefly headed, but for some inexplicable reason she felt inclined to make her presence known

“Excuse me” she said jabbing one extended finger into his uniformed back in order to now prevent him from mowing her down. He was seriously startled and immediately and simultaneously went upright and spun around to face her.

“DANG!” he exclaimed followed by a loudly blown breath.

“I'm sorry” she chuckled apologetically “I didn't mean to scare you that way”. It became hard not to notice that this guy was in fact too cute for a janitor. ‘It must be Trey Walker’ she thought ‘So be nice!’ She decided not to ask as he may not want to be recognized. Nick had only talked about Trey occasionally and few, if any, here at MARCH had ever met him. After his parents, Nick’s brother and sister-in-law, were killed in a car wreck, Trey, who wasn’t married, moved closer to his uncle.

“Oh... no problem Dr Hemmer! What's up?”

“I have to run to my car real quick and I just didn't want you to think I'd left” she explained.

“OK. I'll leave the light on for ya!” he said jokingly through a half smile.

As Angie started to walk away, she hesitated a moment questioning her decision to leave with the door to her office open. She didn't really know this guy and just how trustworthy he was. On the other hand, what would a janitor do with the highly technical information and equipment in her office anyway. Still paused, she turned halfway in his direction.

“You know… if you want you can run a vacuum over my carpet while I'm gone. I mean… if that helps… since I'm here so late… all the time” she stammered out with a touch of flirt in her body language.

“Well... I appreciate the offer, Dr Hemmer. But my vacuum is all the way on the other side of the facility” he responded pointing over his shoulder with a hitchhiker thumb “and besides, I only do that every other night.” He pointed at her. “Got yours just last night. But thank you anyway!”

She gave a tiny nod, a superficial smile, and continued on her way, noticing how the sound of her shoes squeaked on the polished linoleum and echoed through the empty corridor. Her sense of responsibility rushed back into her mind as she realized there was no way she'd complete what she had set out to accomplish tonight. Heading in the direction of her vehicle gave her a sense of longing for home. It was going to be VERY tough to walk back into this building once I reach my SUV, she thought. But Angie had just committed herself to returning to her office by leaving it unlocked.

It was then she felt her body nearly collapse with complete and utter exhaustion. Truly this was beginning to interfere with her ability to focus. She paused once more and looked back down the long tunnel of a hall. Maybe it is time to just call it a night after all, she willingly convinced herself in thought. Eyeing her purse she had grabbed containing the Range Rover's key fob, she reviewed momentarily if there was anything else in her office she absolutely needed to take home with her.

I really don’t think there is, she deduced in her mind. And besides, that janitor guy already has keys to get into all the offices.

“Hey!” She yelled, her voice echoing slightly. She could see him break from his floor scrubbing and glance her way with up-raised questioning brows. “Would you mind just closing my door? I've changed my mind and don't think I'm going to do anymore tonight”

“Sure thing Doc!” he shouted back. “Have a good night! And be careful going home!”

“Thank you! You too” She then turned, took a few last steps to the exit door, and swung it open into the cool night air.

 

Chapter Four

“The less government interferes with private pursuits, the better for general prosperity”

 

Martin Van Buren

 

 

 

September 20…present time

 

 

“Is SHE going to be

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