The Black Wormhole

By Q Taylor

The Black Wormhole is a novel about the incredible discoveries of Earth and the fantastic journey of two astronauts into one of the greatest mysteries of the universe. The story starts you in the far future of mass Ion Collider production and space living, then launches you into a fast pace adventure, on a ride of interdimensional time travel into the strange anomaly now manifesting in the center of our Solar system. Aboard the S. W. Hawkings space shuttle, join astronauts, John Shark and Duke Wheeler on their discover of new technology and a strange alien world as they navigate towards the Black Wormhole.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781663214294

Q Taylor

Q Taylor, an inspiring oil painter of Taylor Mill Kentucky was born and raised in Cincinnati Ohio. A proud father of five, an inventor, a philosopher, poet and renaissance man, he is the author of Faith's Destiny, Faith's Destiny 2, Q's Motivational Poetry, Poetic Q'ures for the Youth and Nineteen Landings: Book 1. Q Taylor pursues the path of becoming one of the greatest story tellers of his time. 1/8/21: Q Taylor, an amazing writer, philosopher and motivational oil painter. Born in Cincinnati and the proud father of five, Q Taylor is now a resident of the blue grass state of Kentucky. Proud to be a great story teller, he thrives to captivate, motivate and to entertain his audience with his literary works. Having written seventeen unpublished works, Q Taylor has successfully published Faith’s Destiny, Faith’s Destiny2, Nineteen Landings: Book 1, Nineteen Landings: Book 2, Q’s Motivational Poetry and Poetic Qures for the Youth. Q Taylor is a renaissance man and a true relic of our century. Inspiring readers and provoking positive thought, we join him on his quest of becoming one of the great story tellers of our time.

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Copyright © 2021 Q. Taylor.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-1428-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-1429-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020924193

iUniverse rev. date:  12/17/2020

To

those of you

who

continue to question

our

universe

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1 The Event Horizon

Chapter 2 First Contact

Chapter 3 Native Inhabitants

Chapter 4 The Outerspherian Reunion

Chapter 5 Anktumba’s War

Chapter 6 John’s Ladder

Chapter 7 Building a Ship

Chapter 8 Plight of the Chosen

Chapter 9 Home

PROLOGUE

In the near future, somewhere between the now and then of time, within the vast pitch-dark confines of outer space, the Milky Way Galaxy, like a flat pinwheel, spins through a spherical cloud of twinkling light and energy.

Scientists, dazzled for decades by the heavens, have witnessed the formation of stars and planets and numerous accounts of a variety of unexplainable things. As the scientific community marvel at and study the ever-changing, evolving body of the solar system, a breakthrough in the advancement of modern science and technology leads to the prolific questioning of an old discovery, the Higgs particle.

The God particle, as it is deemed in theoretical physics, ideally gives mass to matter. It taunts humankind’s curiosity about the pieces of the great cosmic puzzle. Baffled by what they cannot see, using radio frequencies, electrostatic tracks, and enormous tubes, they power up great electromagnets, creating colliders revolutionized into enormous particle accelerators. The devices, using electromagnetic fields, propel charged particles contained in a well-defined beam into one another, causing a cataclysm of reactions that are recorded, analyzed, and studied. In their observations of atoms and their components, the pieces that compose the subatomic particles fascinate them the most—the elementary particles, even smaller than protons and neutrons.

In their studies, they find no God particle. However, amid the research and the unforeseen rise and growth of more than one hundred thousand accelerators spawning from coast to coast worldwide, humankind’s great perfection falls to their great imperfection. A human error, a miscalculation, occurs. Inside an oscillating accelerator, a single particle escapes the machine and collides with particles in the outer atmosphere, creating an undetected reaction.

Colonized in space, on Mars, and on the moons of planets, humankind, having made technological leaps and bounds, launches a field mission to observe an array of lights and an enormous formation of scattering and spinning subatomic particles inside the solar system. Then, capturing the world’s fascination, entrapped in a stretch of flickering lights that amazingly flash other stars, solar systems, and nebulas, the formation under observation stretches in an exhibition of unusual behavior.

Humankind watches the vibrant light become contained in a strip of electroenergy. An interstellar cloud of gas and dust, a nebula, transforms miraculously into a dense object: a protostar. As the protostar drifts, its gravitational pull attracts other surrounding material into its dense center, and it becomes hotter and more compact. Reaching ten million degrees, it becomes a star. Hydrogen becomes helium and radiates light and heat, helping the star to transcend into a red giant.

When the heat runs out, nearing the end of its hydrogen, the star’s outer layer explodes, spewing out burning hydrogen throughout its core. The massive star experiences fusing of its helium atoms, swelling and expanding into a supergiant. As it becomes more than eight times the mass of the Sun, astronomers and scientists watch in awe. Still contained within the tornado-like strip of light, the star collapses under its own weight, sending shock waves throughout the solar system.

Followed by a shell of materials from the star’s atmosphere, the earth feels a sudden tug from the gravitational suction of a sudden, unknown phenomenon or apparatus that appears throughout its body and inner core. The anomaly stuns and catches the attention of the scientific community. As special instruments are issued and used to measure the unusual trail of light and dispersed atomic energy, neutrons collapse the innermost part of the dense formation as it grasps everything around it. As if holding on for dear life, it pulls everything into its deadly center, including light and time itself. Though it’s only the size of Cleveland, its mass exceeds the entirety of the Sun.

But it isn’t just a black hole disrupting space and manipulating time. Humanity’s machine has created something more.

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CHAPTER 1

THE EVENT HORIZON

In the deep depths and vast vacuums of open space, over the mighty mountain of the god of war, Mars, and just beyond Jupiter, the king of the gods, according to Roman mythology, from an international space station, Earth launches its space shuttle S. W. Hawking into orbit toward a mysterious wave, a ringed tube of electrical energy inside a swirling mass of darkness that suddenly appeared within the inner reaches of the solar system.

Twirling, the gravity of the black pool of unknown engulfs the neighboring immortal moons forever. Passing clear of the asteroid belt that floats between the red planet and the gas planet, the shuttle cuts through space and the boundaries of the heliopause. Witnessed by the faint rings of Neptune, the vessel whisks by the disk-shaped Kuiper Belt composed of clusters of rock and asteroids. Like a glossing of shimmers from the glistening seas of Saturn, light drips across the white metal body of the craft like sparkling diamond dust as reflections from the stars cascade peacefully across its belly, reflecting off its far sides.

Inside the cargo bay, captivated by the beauty of space, science pilot Duke Wheeler and command pilot John Shark gaze at a monitor linked to an outside camera recently installed.

There’s nothing like it, is there? Gets me every time. Duke switches to an alternate camera view of space. Hmm, this one’s a little blurry; I’m going to have to replace it. Job number one hundred fifty-two on the list. He smiles and floats over to the space hub, a pressurized mixed-cargo carrier that supports various quantities of experimental hardware.

Do you ever regret it? Sometimes I feel like I should be doing something else, something bigger. I don’t know. I always wanted to help humankind, but I guess that’s what we’re doing here now, Shark says as he bounces over to a nearby wall panel and checks the engine systems and pressure. It’s weird.

You’re not trying to say you hate this job, are you? The red-haired module pilot, Suzanne Baker, glides in behind them. Both men pause in silence. Okay, either this is man thing or a very private party. The commander needs to see you in the cockpit.

Nah, I love my job. Can’t get enough of it. It’s a dream come true, Shark answers as Suzanne pats him on the back. He leaps back to the monitor and switches to another view of their destination. What do you think we’ll find out there? It’s only a few weeks away. Shark gazes at the screen as if in a light daydream and then heads to the front of the ship.

Hopefully we’ll find no problems. Earth doesn’t need any more dangers in addition to the wars it already has. Duke crawls out into the space hub and gathers some equipment before exiting. Checking the animals! he shouts before disappearing deeper into the ship.

Upon entering the back laboratory where the animals, insects, and plants are kept, Duke looks at the large pod to his left, where a large mother kangaroo and her baby are kept. Strapped down safely and unconscious in suspended animation, the mammals remind him of an old movie he watched as a child with his father. He laughs to himself at the thought of a boxing kangaroo punching people.

Slowly hopping near the laboratory’s computers, he grabs a small electronic tool from a small compartment, and two silicone objects gently bump against his forehead. Gilla, did you pick your stasis pod again? I bet you rewired the controls. Duke grins into the big greenish-brown eyes of a large floating gorilla.

Training to be an astronaut, certified in engineering and mechanics, the technical-specialist ape hovers down on two stubby bowlegs. Gilla is the space agency’s thirteenth and only surviving artificially brain-enhanced primate in space. An amazing achievement in science, Gilla’s brain was injected and surgically installed with microprocessors and microscopic memory enhancers proven to increase cognitive memory and learning skills by 90 percent. The short-haired giant, who has accompanied many astronauts and crews on numerous missions, slaps Duke across the back and gives him a thumbs-up.

Come on. Let’s get you into the pod so we can activate the hyperbolic chamber. Let’s get you squared away, buddy. You ready for suspended animation? Duke asks, and the 397-pound primate shrugs his massive, broad shoulders, giving a thumbs-down. I know. I don’t like this part of the trip either. I don’t think anyone likes being forced to sleep. But you know what, pal? It does save resources and makes time go by a whole lot faster for us. We’re in the hands of trustworthy machines. He places a hand on the mammal’s arm.

Gilla swipes a small device the size of a calculator off a stand. He begins tapping its small keys. Don’t be afraid. Me brave. I, friend, is with you. The small box reads out the words he selects.

I’m with you too, pal. Duke kindly escorts Gilla to his designated area and secures the gorilla’s body restraints with Suzanne’s assistance. Scratching the top of Gilla’s neck, slightly under his chin, Duke helps to keep his animal friend calm and pats his chest. See you when we wake up, old pal. Duke steps back as Gilla grunts in complaint.

Holding up one large, plump index finger, Gilla signals for the two to wait. Breaking a strap with his powerful, long arm, the ape reaches out and adjusts his night-light in the corner of his wall.

You big baby. Duke leaves the room with Suzanne. Watching the primate give him another thumbs-up, Duke closes the pod and starts the sleep sequence. Geesh, Gill, that’s the tenth strap you’ve broken! he gripes.

He should be okay; there isn’t anything in there for his arm to swing and break like last time. The fifty-plus-year-old woman reassures him as she watches Duke activate the pod. Gilla quickly falls into a slow-aging sleep. Well, I have some chores to tidy up before I lock myself down. Meet you in the middle.

All right, Sue. Duke turns away to care for the other animals. Thanks for your help.

You’re welcome. Suzanne, placing her hands on her hips, watches him leave before returning to her previous task.

In the cockpit, Shark checks and monitors the controls alongside the mission commander, Micheal Adams. We’re about ready. Three, two, one, and now. Mission control, autopilot engaged. Systems check. Everything’s a go! Signing off. Shark speaks into the microphone of his headset to the International Space Station and then switches over to intercom communication.

"Great job, S. W. Hawking. Your signal is a little weak and fading. We’re going to try another frequency on the next one. America loves you, and we’ll be here when you guys and gals wake up. Now, get some rest, astronauts. Sweet dreams. ISS signing off." The command center ends its last transmission before the ship switches to autopilot.

Good night, Tower One. We should be clear of the asteroids in a couple of days. Then it should be smooth sailing from there on out. Micheal Adams, the oldest and most experienced astronaut, touches the control panel and strokes his trimmed gray beard. This is amazing. I can’t believe we’re this close, Shark. I’m normally not the optimistic one, but I don’t know—I’m getting a funny feeling about this one. We’re really risking our lives here.

We’re risking our lives here every day, Mike. Shark laughs, pulling out a digital tablet from his pocket.

You know—Micheal Adams takes another glimpse at space ahead and smacks his mouth—I’ve known you and a few of the others for a really long time. In fact, I’ve known you your entire life. You’re among the second generation of kids to be raised on a space station, and I witnessed it. The slight, muscular, broad-shouldered man leans back in his seat proudly. Shark, you and Duke were always smart kids. I tell ya, to watch you boys grow into the men you are today has been a pleasure. Happy to have you as a copilot on this mission, son. I’m signing off as well, Pilot.

It’s been an honor knowing you as well. Shark shakes Micheal’s hand, and the commander stands and salutes him. Doing the same, Shark tilts to the side as Micheal steps into a midglide out of the cockpit.

Fiddling with the tablet, Shark powers it on and unlocks it. Going into the device’s menu, he pulls up photos of his beloved wife-to-be one day, Kenya. Picturing her down on Earth studying, he touches the screen and takes a few moments to remember their last contact. Okay, let’s rap this up. He puts the tablet away and double-checks the guidance system one last time.

After then overlooking the labs in the cargo bay, Shark hovers slowly over to the crew floating clownishly around a small stand; they are saying good night before going into deep sleep. They hold up tubes of their favorite astronaut food of choice. They pass a sealed beverage pouch of lemonade to Shark and engage in a final toast.

This is it, gang, Suzanne says. I wish we would have waited to put Gilla to sleep, because he should definitely be here with us right now. This has been one hell of a ride, and it’s not over until we make it back to the ISS. Let’s get to the black hole safely, guys. To the hole! She tips her food package against the others’.

The crew repeat, To the hole! and then open and suck down their food.

Micheal and Suzanne go into their pods on the left side of the ship, leaving Duke and Shark to their pods along the right wing of the ship. Exercising safety checks, Shark prepares for the trip. He picks up off the console a red helmet he constantly modifies, and he turns, bumping into a wall of controls and the latest megabot, or MB, unit sitting against them. The MB unit, which contains two individual robonauts and a miniature all-terrain rover, is a prototype and the only one of its kind in testing. The high-tech medical and weaponized module is designed to protect and aid the astronauts in any emergency. Its grayish-silver encasing covers a pyramid-shaped body and hexagonal dome. A pulsing light blinks nonstop to indicate it’s in standby mode, waiting on any astronaut’s activation. I sure hope you’re there when we need you.

Shark soars to a table of magnetic tools and small computerized devices. After placing his finely detailed red helmet on the table, he makes some more adjustments in his last spare moments before deep sleep. Pausing, he presses a small button on the table; a small flat-screen rises from its surface as a small keypad highlights on the tabletop. Clicking a few keys, he attempts to video-message his girlfriend several times. Receiving no response, he checks the internet connection. Must be interference today. Shark shuts down the computer disappointedly and continues to work on his helmet to ease his mind.

From behind, Duke hovers from the ceiling over to him. Are you kidding me? Are you still playing with that thing? How long is it going to take for you to finish it? We’re minutes away from sleep! Duke laughs next to him.

Did I question you when you were locked up, supposedly working with the Thomson twins? Shark installs a microchip on an inside panel of the helmet.

Will you forget about that already? That was a long time ago. That was different. Duke looks down at the sophisticated engineered headpiece. Dark red in color, with a metal mouthpiece that looks more naval ready than space worthy, the headpiece always tickles the curiosity of any onlooker. A metal band full of electronic and technical features stretches from ear to ear across the back of the helmet. Shaded ski-goggle-type lenses cover its eye section, and a small, thin red metal Mohawk-like strip similar to a shark’s dorsal fin runs from the top center of the lenses directly back to the neck of the helmet.

That thing looks like it does everything but walk and shoot, Duke says. What could you have possibly added to it now?

I’ve modified it to convert any dangerous outside toxins in the atmosphere into breathable air without the help of a suit. You know, just in case the suit ever fails. And if ever I’m unable to feed or eat, this little red baby right here will inject proteins and vital nutrients I need into my body. Sharks smiles over the helmet, engaged in his work.

Into your face? That’s disgusting and just a little weird, my friend. It injects meals into your face? Wow, Shark, you’re a real piece of work, bro. So now you have superhearing and x-ray vision, you can breathe underwater, and you self-heal? Shark, you’re a real-life superhero! You’re just too cool, awesome brother. Duke gives him a fist bump, highly impressed, as usual, by his highly intelligent best friend.

Are you ready for the sleep? Shark asks.

You mean the induced coma? Don’t remind me. I always wake up with a headache. It’s the only part I hate about traveling long distances. That and leaving a machine in control. I trust Gilla and the kangaroo with my life more than I trust this ship. Duke grabs a small bag tethered to a panel. Before I go, if we don’t make it, it’s been fun, bro.

A pleasure. Shark bumps knuckles with his childhood friend once more and opens a small compartment along the floor. As a small flashing, squeezable container floats out, he catches it in his mouth and sips from a slender straw connected to it. Want some?

Why do I have a strange feeling that’s not apple juice? Duke snatches away the container and examines it.

What? No nanoprobes for you this morning? Your baby kangaroo, Skippy, loves them. Shark takes the container back and ingests the liquid consisting of tiny microscopic nanomachines that probe for insects, infections, and diseases by injecting medicine and antibiotics within the body. The nanotechnology, which he designed, is a great ally in the field on Earth during training exercises. I was ordered to feed it to Skippy in that experiment, remember?

Well, that explains his unusual overly happy behavior, Duke responds sarcastically. No, thanks, bud. No bolts or volts in my diet. One day you’re going to drink so many of those things you’re going to turn into a cold glass of nanojuice! See you on the other side, pal. He leaves his friend and heads for the pod. And quit giving that stuff to Skippy!

See you on the other side, Duke. Shark inserts another cartridge into the slot of his helmet and places the helmet on his head. Combined with neurotechnology, the helmet automatically powers on by thought. As he breathes easily, a menu is highlighted on a small screen in his field of view. As he looks around the room, the helmet scans the room in infrared. He takes x-rays and readings of the structural integrity of the shuttle. Satisfied with what he sees, Shark removes the helmet and takes it to the hanging area next to his cyrostasis pod.

The ship’s computer sounds over the intercom: "Warning: preservation chambers will lock and seal in fifteen