We walk with Leo and Crater for several minutes before reaching a large steel door, bolted shut. A sign on the center reads, "Danger High Voltage."
Leo retracts the bolts. "A couple of you grab that handle; I'm too old."
Grus and I pull with our full body weight. Slowly, the door squeaks open. It's completely dark inside, but I can make out the contours of something large and spherical in the center of the room, a good fifty feet away.
Fluorescent lights buzz to life, revealing a large, mostly empty room with a high ceiling and concrete walls and floor. In the center, a circular, elevated platform, upon which rests a large, glass sphere.
"Well would you look at that!" Crater approaches the sphere like it's an old friend. "You've kept her in good shape all these years, Leo."
"I've kept the simulator in excellent condition all these years," an unfamiliar voice replies. "Leo just keeps the lights on."
We all turn. The woman who'd entered looks like she just stepped off Gemini. Wearing the grey flight suit of senior Constellations officials, the bars on her uniform signify an astonishing number of light years. Tall, with blonde hair in a tight bun, a laser-focused look emanates from her eyes.
"Pyxis!" Crater brushes away stray hairs from his eyes. "You haven't changed one bit, either!"
"Crater." Pyxis nods, looks him over. "Neither have you, I see." Walking over to a large, wall-mounted display, Pyxis brings it to life and rapidly swipes and taps. The platform illuminates and the glass sphere rises about a foot, then separates in two halves on either side of the platform.
"Edwin, what are you waiting for?" Pyxis asks without turning from the display.
"What am I supposed to—"
Pyxis turns quickly, her intense gaze meeting my confusion. "Time is not on our side," she says briskly, jutting her chin at the platform. Apparently that's my cue.
I look at Leo.
"Told you she was tough," he whispers.
"Thanks," I mouth.
Crater pats me on the back as I head to the simulator. "Don't worry, Edwin, this thing'll be a walk in the park for you!"
"Do not interfere with my instruction," Pyxis says calmly. "Your dive suit and helmet are behind the simulator."
With every step toward the machine I realize how big it really is. The platform itself is about four feet off the ground and ten feet in diameter, while the sphere looks to be double that. A high-pitched whirring sound grows as I approach.
I've logged a respectable number of light years in the DMN, but this thing's intimidating. The accelerator that allows you to enter the DMN looks nothing like this.
Behind the simulator, a dive suit and helmet hang on a small partition, where I change. Both fit perfectly and are standard EDP gear, with the palms of the dive suit made from special material that allows you to interact with dark matter on a dive and change your relative position; your speed is dictated by the dark current.
I hear a faint voice coming from the helmet but can't make out the words. Placing it over my head, the simulator's high-pitch noise disappears. "Hello?"
"Yes, I'm here," Pyxis replies.
"Were you saying something?"
"Yes: Any day now."
I start up the stairs.
"Move to the center of the platform, Edwin." Her voice is calm and steady. "Good. Now, put a slight bend in your knees. Very good."
The machine's high pitch returns, still not as loud through the helmet, but it sounds like an increase in intensity.
"In a moment, you're going to feel the zero-gravity environment initiate."
"Umm... okay, any advice?"
"Just stay calm and loose."
Calm and loose. Right. Before I can think much about how exactly to do that, I feel my feet peel right off the platform. Somehow, I'm in a totally weightless environment. Both halves of the sphere move slowly toward each other, merging seamlessly, with me floating smack in the middle.
Pyxis calmly continues. "In a moment, the sphere will fade to black as I load the initial dive."
"Where am I heading?"
"Proxima Centauri-b."
"With all do respect, I think that's a bit too easy; I've logged more than—"
"Yes, yes, yes. You're an amazing diver who has nothing to learn."
"I didn't say—"
"My training regimen will keep you alive, Edwin!" Pyxis turns from the display. I can feel her intense gaze from across the room, through the sphere and helmet. "Now, please pay attention. This first dive is just to get you warmed up."
Turning back to the display, Pyxis swipes and the sphere begins to darken. Pavo waves, Vela gives a thumbs up, and Grus does his best impression of a dive.
Within seconds, I'm shrouded in complete darkness. Several moments pass with that feeling of not knowing if my eyes are open or closed. I take deep breaths, trying to remain calm. Even space doesn't feel this dark.
"You're doing excellent," Pyxis says. She's remarkably calm, her voice exuding confidence. "Just like in the DMN, we will have no contact once the dive begins. Are you ready?"
One question occurs to me. "Does this thing also simulate the entry and exit visions?" Every diver experiences a dream-like state upon entry and exit from the DMN. The visions can be static or go on like a dream, but in reality only a few seconds pass.
"No; we can't recreate that," Pyxis replies.
"Let's do it."
Instantly, my visor lights up with all the normal readings displayed on the lower left corner.
TARGET EXOPLANET: Proxima Centauri-b
DISTANCE: 4.2 light years
ESTIMATED DIVE TIME: 15 seconds
GALACTIC COORDINATES: 2h 39m 35s + 60 50'
DMN COURSE: Centaurus Stream
OXYGEN: 100 percent
It even has Ena — Exoplanet Navigation Assist — the friendly voice of the standard AI in all EDP dive helmets. Other than the cadence of her speech, she sounds just like a real person.
"Confirm selected course?"
Centaurus Stream is the first course any diver takes outside the Solar System. Relatively slow, very few turns, and extremely reliable. "Course confirmed."
The visor momentarily displays a 3-D rendering of the DMN section relevant to this dive, which looks like a few dozen strands of spaghetti randomly thrown together, Centaurus Stream in green and other routes in red. Again, all standard for a real dive, as Dive Assist must have everything set before entering the DMN to help keep you on course.
"Initiate dive?"
"Initiate."
The image of the DMN fades. Total darkness again. Then, the Milky Way illuminates silently. Earth spins right behind me. The Moon so big it seems I could grab it. The Solar System in the palm of my hand; the entire Galaxy waiting for me. Breathing in deeply, calm washes over me. Whoever built this simulator knew what they were doing.
Arms and hands at my sides, straight and firm, but relaxed. Chin tucked in to my chest. Toes pointed. Standard DMN entry position.
Ena counts down, "Three, two, one. Dive."
Like a galactic pane of glass, space silently shatters into a trillion pieces, then reforms. That's entering the DMN.
Lifting my head up slightly, the DMN's endless green web is before me. Dark streams, rivers, and, in the distance, oceans. I'm in the kind of small orbital stream that typically surrounds planets.
"Exiting Solar System," Ena announces.
I could make the dive to Proxima Centauri-b in my sleep, but Dive Assist highlights the Centaurus Stream on my visor anyway.
Extending my right arm in front of me, slightly to the right, I enter the dark current perfectly and bring my arm back to my side.
"Centaurus Stream entry confirmed. Ten seconds to target."
The simulation is perfect. Translucent streaks of green, blue, white, and purple surround me in the narrow but comfortable stream. In a typical stream, you have about a hundred feet of horizontal and vertical movement in any direction. The current always flows in the same direction in a given stream, so as long as you stay inside, you're fine. The black backdrop of space always lurks, like I'm on a galactic tightrope.
I saw a video once on Gemini — one of the holoGram videos from before the war that I normally ignore — of someone skydiving. Free falling and moving side to side by simply positioning their body a certain way or moving their arms. That's the closest thing I've seen to diving through the DMN, if you add in the fact that you're traveling faster than the speed of light, of course.
Within seconds, I can see the host star's orange glow, like a lonely fire burning forever in silence. Even though it's a red dwarf, it's too bright for me to make out Proxima Centauri-b from this distance.
"Approaching target exoplanet," Ena confirms just as it's coming into view. There it is, a dark dot dutifully in motion, clinging to the only home it knows.
"Prepare for orbit-entry maneuver."
This is the only tricky part. Like most routes to exoplanets, Centaurus Stream will take you right past Proxima Centauri-b if you don't exit into a local stream that orbits the planet. I see several options up ahead and, extending my left arm, position myself to take one. Hugging my knees to my chest, I form a tight ball for only a second before releasing just at the right moment, propelling successfully into the local stream.
Below, Proxima Centauri-b rests peacefully. Reddish-brown, blue, and white swirled together. Reminiscent of Earth at first glance, it's frigid environment renders it uninhabitable for humans.
Before I make even one orbit, the planet disappears and the Galaxy fades.
"Well done, Edwin," Pyxis says.
I squint from fluorescent lights as the simulation sphere returns to clear glass. For a moment, I'd forgotten the others were watching my dive on the display.
"A walk in the park," I say.
"Is that so?" Pyxis remains focused on the display. With a few swipes she's loaded the next dive. Turning, with a raised brow and smirk, she says, "Well, let's try something a bit more difficult."