In last week’s episode, the crew of the St. Paul attempts a risky maneuver to eliminate any computer viruses in her system while still in flight. In this week’s episode, against the backdrop of life-threatening danger, Ranell encourages David to conduct his first interview…
Like a symphony conductor, Captain Pruitt coordinated the efforts of his crew. First Officer Foote was still at the controls as they brought the St. Paul around to the west. Pruitt directed him to increase her altitude for additional safety. He consulted with Singh, “You can’t take her much higher than 5,000 feet, Captain,” Singh said. “The Doppler radar shows this zone to be the most stable. Above 5,500 feet, we’ve got a boundary layer with unacceptable levels of turbulence.”
“A mile above the sea will have to be enough then,” Pruitt replied. “Plus, we won’t be as cold when we shut the cabin pressure off.” Decisions made, the experienced pilot seemed almost at ease with the steps they were now taking.
“FO, angle her up two degrees and drop enough ballast to ensure a slight increase in altitude.” Pruitt added.
First Officer Foote raised his eyebrows at this. “Won’t that bring us up into the boundary layer?” he asked.
“I don’t think that level of incline will take us to that altitude in twenty-five minutes, Jim.” Lines of concentration furrowed Pruitt’s face. “Besides, with all of her systems offline, my best guess is that the St. Paul will turn broadside to the wind and then start to descend as we lose the headwind lift. I want to slow that rate of descent as much as possible now before we shut everything down. We won’t be able to make any adjustments once the process is underway.”
“Roger,” Foote acknowledged and began working the controls to drop some of the St. Paul’s ballast. As a hybrid airship, the St. Paul didn’t rely on ballasting or the venting helium for lift and descent. Some of the newest airship designs had eliminated these features altogether. However, she still retained a limited ballasting capability that was used primarily for adjusting trim and cargo loads… and for emergencies.
While Foote made the adjustments, Captain Pruitt got up from his seat and went aft to the main cabin where the rest of the crew was assembled. “Gentlemen,” his voice contained a calm, stern authority, “please don your survival suits.”
Captain Pruitt assumed the pilot-in-command position and took over the controls as he waited for Foote to put on his fluorescent orange survival suit, and then re-join him in the cockpit. Ranell, Singh, and David were all seated in the main cabin, next to the emergency exit. Laksh D’Cruze’s avatar was inspecting some screen on the flight deck, along with several other avatars from his team.
“Now everyone, listen carefully.” Pruitt swiveled in his chair so that he could address the crew from the pilot’s seat. “When we shut the St. Paul’s systems down, I need each of you to stay perfectly still until the reboot is complete. There will be no moving about the cabin for any reason. We’ve got her trim set for us right now. If you move even a little with the systems off, it could unbalance her.”
The crew was silent as they listened to his words. “I think we’re going to be just fine,” Pruitt continued calmly. “But twenty-five minutes will seem like forever, especially if the breeze starts pushing this old girl around, and we start losing altitude.”
Pruitt then gave a tight, grim smile and said, “The good thing about airships is that when they crash, they tend to crash very slowly and gently, so no matter what happens there will be no panicking. Don’t get excited and do exactly as I tell you, exactly when I tell you to do it. OK?”
The crew murmured their agreement. “Now, if you would all bow your heads, please join me in prayer.”
The crew bowed their heads. Both Ranell and Singh reached for David’s hands, and he clasped them back. “Heavenly Father, I want to thank you for every moment you’ve given me to sail in your skies and for all the wonderful sights I have beheld over the years. You know me, and you know that I have craved control over things, even things that are sometimes beyond my ability to control. This is one of those times, Father. I’ve done the best I could, and now I’m about to take my hands off and turn everything over to you. Please, Father, watch over my crew and keep them safe, and watch over the St. Paul that she might get free of this terrible malware affecting her systems. We love you, and we trust you to care for our lives. You are in control. I ask all this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” the crew intoned.
“OK, Laksh,” Pruitt turned to the avatar on the flight deck. “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Let’s get started.”
There was some radio traffic as the St. Paul communicated its position and status, and then the ship went dark.
David hadn’t been feeling well all day. Lieutenant Rodriguez had been nagging him to look around the ship. What’s in the cargo hold, David? Go look in that door. David realized there was a small hatch in the cargo bay, up front close to the galley, that he’d never noticed before. He opened it and looked inside. There was nothing there but some pipes and wires; he didn’t know what they did.
For a good portion of the morning, David had absently wandered around the ship like this. But there wasn’t much to see, and he’d felt an oppressive anxiety weighing him down.
But when the St. Paul’s power was shut down, for some reason he felt instantly better, as if some great weight had been lifted off him. He sat quietly contemplating the way the late afternoon sun was still streaming in from the port side windows, and how the shadow cast by the St. Paul’s massive envelope covered the bulk of the cabin. He’d never realized just how much artificial light and background noise there was aboard, and the silence seemed deafening, cut only by the distant sound of the engines running at low power. They sounded very far away.
Ranell, Singh, and David sat together in the main cabin. Occasionally they could hear some murmured conversation from the cockpit, but David could not make out what Pruitt and Foote were discussing.
After a while, Singh began sighting along his thumb at clouds to the north outside the starboard windows. “What are you doing, LT?” David asked.
“I’m trying to get some sense of the St. Paul’s direction,” Singh replied. “This is driving me crazy not having access to my systems.”
“What do you think? Are we still heading west?”
“It looks good so far,” Singh replied. “I’m using that cloud formation over there for my bearings. If she starts swinging one way or another, we should be able to tell.”
“I have an idea,” Ranell said, the expression on his face serene.
His two crewmates turned to look at Ranell. “Mr. Wilson, we’ve been discussing the interviews you are required to conduct. This seems like an opportune time to conduct your first one. Why don’t you see if you can determine where Lieutenant Singh’s worldview falls along the First Cause Spectrum.”
“Doc.” There was a note of agitation in David’s voice. I can’t believe he’s asking me to interview that jerk. “Do you really think this is a good time? We kind of have a lot going on right now.”
“The answers to the questions the Rabban is asking are almost always found during moments of great personal distress when the day-to-day masks we all wear are stripped away… besides, what else do you have to do right now?”
It seemed like a foolish request to David. He had to concentrate on what was going on around him. He looked out of the window at the dark clouds to the north growing larger and closer, and then he looked back to the two men sitting with him quietly in the cabin, just waiting.
Finally, Singh asked, “What are you guys talking about?”
“I’ve been assigned to conduct a series of interviews to find out how people think the universe was created,” David offered by way of explanation.
“What?” Singh seemed annoyed with the explanation, as if he couldn’t believe anything could be more important than the life or death situation in which they found themselves.
David was suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of explaining the grand structured argument the Rabban was pursuing and the SEAS reporting system. “I’ve just got to ask people some interview questions and score them. It all goes into a big worldview database the Rabban is making.”
“And you want to know what I think?” Singh asked, looking back and forth between David and Ranell. Ranell smiled slightly and nodded his head. David noticed the unspoken signal. Singh cast one more furtive glance at the cloud formation he was tracking and then relented, “OK. Ask your questions.”
How do you enquire about the fundamental ways in which we each view the world? David had given this question a lot of thought in the last few days aboard the St. Paul. It wasn’t something people normally talked about, at least not in David’s experience. However, since he was given a mission, David relied on his military training to find a way to accomplish it. As was his nature, David decided on the most direct path. He drew a breath and asked, “LT, do you believe in God?”
“Yes,” Singh answered with conviction.
So far, so good. David thought he could score Singh with a green bubble for One Power versus Many Powers. Then he had a moment of doubt. He needed to make sure, so he asked a follow-up question; “Uh, just one god, right? Or do you believe in any others?”
“What? No.”
Did the LT get offended by that question? It was hard for David to tell.
Before he could ask more about it, Singh snapped his head sharply towards the starboard window and held up his thumb again. “She’s turning,” he said quietly. They all watched as the distant cumulonimbus storm clouds appeared to slide forward towards the bow. The St. Paul was pointed right towards them. “North.”
When a large object is caught in a current, as when a log is thrown into a river, it tends to turn to expose the greatest surface area. The log will float sideways down the river rather than lengthwise. The same was true for the St. Paul as she drifted in the westerly breeze. The difference was that unlike the log, the St. Paul was not at neutral buoyancy; she was heavier than the air around her, and without the lift generated by the headwind at her bow, her four engines were now propelling her inexorably down in a long, gradual descent.
The sounds of footsteps interrupted their reverie, and they turned as one towards the flight deck at the unexpectedly loud footsteps of First Officer Foote as he made his way back to the main cabin.
Responding to their shocked looks, Foote explained, “She’s turned broadside to the wind.”
We already know that, David thought.
“We’re losing altitude, but the captain thinks the rate is acceptable. The bow was a little too low for his liking, so he sent me back here to move some weight out of the cockpit.” He settled into a seat next to David. “How are you guys doing?”
“We’re riding with confidence in Christ’s providence,” answered Ranell mildly. “In fact, Mr. Wilson was just interviewing the LT concerning his views on the matter. Would you care to listen to the discussion?”
Foote shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. Ranell said, “Please continue, Mr. Wilson.”
David glanced at Singh, who also shrugged and gave an expression as if to say, “Why not?”
David was not at all prepared to conduct some silly interview. He was sweating in his bulky orange survival suit despite the growing chill in the darkened cabin, and he was having a hard time remembering what questions he was supposed to ask. Finally gathering up the scattered fragments of his train of thought, David blurted, “So you’re a Christian, right?”
“Yeah.”
It made sense to David. Singh was a Christian guy working for a Christian company. But then David wasn’t Christian, and he also worked for PIRA, so he felt rather good about the fact that he had confirmed that bit. But now, he had to try to figure out if Singh’s God was Personal or Impersonal. Again, taking the most direct approach, David asked, “To you, is God a person?”
Singh seemed to be preoccupied, as if he was trying to determine if the sea beneath them looked closer now.
He’s scared. It was the voice of Lieutenant Rodriguez. He’s imagining the steps we’ll have to take if the St. Paul ditches into the sea.
David looked at his watch. Ten minutes had passed. They would descend for another fifteen minutes before the control systems were restored. I’m happy he’s scared. He’s thinking we’ll have to evacuate and jump into the frigid waters. He’s wondering if he’ll be able to make it to the life raft. Are there any ships in the area capable of rescue? Will he die today? David had a pleasant vision of Singh being pulled underneath a great wave.
Where did that thought come from? David was shocked by the image that came, unbidden, to his mind. If Singh goes in the water, I’ll be going in too. He was answered only by the distant sound of mocking laughter. He fought off the spell and forced himself to continue the interview.
“LT?” David asked again, “Do you think God is a person?”
“What?” Singh returned his attention to David, “Oh, I don’t know. Yes, I suppose.” It occurred to David that Singh might be getting the answer to that question very soon.
“What’s that like? I mean, does he talk to you and stuff?”
Singh admitted he’d never experienced anything like a voice from God. “Not to me, He doesn’t,” came his candid reply. “I mean, I think God is around us all the time. He wants people to be good, and He forgives their sins, and all that...” Then Singh added suddenly, “And He hears our prayers.” Looking out the window, down towards the cresting waves, David surely hoped that Singh was right about that.
David was confused by Singh’s answer. On the one hand, God appeared like a person who could listen to prayers, but on the other hand, He also seemed distant and detached, more like an idea than a real person who could answer those prayers. David considered scoring Singh with a yellow bubble for indeterminate, but with Ranell sitting right there watching him, he thought he would try to dig a little deeper. “If God is a person, how do you think He created the Universe?”
“Really?” Singh was clearly irritated at having to think about this stuff when they could be in such great danger. By now, the sea was obviously closer. He watched as Singh took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “I believe in the Big Bang and evolution; I guess I always just figured God was smart enough to invent all that.”
David liked that answer, it was very similar to his own beliefs, and he felt like he could understand it.
I also like how all these questions are getting under his skin.
“That’s what I think, too, LT,” David nodded in agreement. “But just to clarify, do you think God is actively involved in the events of the world. Like, do you think He does miracles and things like that?”
At that moment, the St. Paul hit a patch of turbulence. It wasn’t violent, but it shook the ship gently, causing her to bank slightly to starboard, bringing the view of the approaching ocean more fully into focus. There were more footsteps in the flight deck, and Captain Pruitt came to join them in the main cabin. “I want her nose to come up some more,” was all he said by way of explanation.
No one is in the cockpit, David realized with alarm.
“What caused the turbulence?” asked Foote.
“We’re likely beginning to enter the leading edge of that storm front,” Singh answered automatically. Then he seemed to remember David’s question and said ruefully, “I don’t know if God works miracles or not, but I sure wouldn’t mind one now.”
Everyone in the cabin shared a laugh. It was a grim, tight laugh, made funny in the manner of dark humor, but it broke the tension for a moment and brought relief to the crew.
David’s interview was soon forgotten as Captain Pruitt and First Officer Foote discussed the actions they would take once the systems were restored. David wondered how long they’d been offline. Twenty-one minutes. It looked like they were about 1,000 feet above the ocean’s surface. It was going to be close.
Some of the instrument lights blinked for a moment. The crew cheered but then fell silent again as the lights went out. “Come on, D’Cruze!” Pruitt growled through gritted teeth.
The next few minutes were characterized by the flickering of lights as different systems sputtered to life. When the main cabin lights finally came on, all the crew members continued to sit still, not wanting to get their hopes up prematurely. Finally, D’Cruze’s avatar appeared on the flight deck in his white lab coat. “We’ve got you back on-line, Captain,” he said, looking at some unseen display with alarm, “Hurry!”
David swiveled his chair to make way for Captain Pruitt as he raced through the flight deck to his seat in the cockpit, followed closely by Foote. The St. Paul’s nose dipped noticeably as they made their way forward, but the crew began to cheer in earnest as they regained control and increased the throttle to maximum. The St. Paul roared with them as she sprang back to life and leaped once more into the sky.