#scientifically i mean pretty sure we all came from the same star since our solar system was formed all outta the same stuff cu

[spookberry]

Idk man im havin a moment

[waldosakimbo]

Summary:

Delivery of the Iv'ro Lan goes all well and for once Yondu is well and truly happy. It’s the final chapter for The Vault Job! Up next...Peter gets a lesson in flying.

Chapter 10: A Pardon Party

“We need this.” Yondu sneered, hand flat across the holster to his yaka arrow.

“You know it’s a fool’s run,” Kraglin answered. He had sense to look aloof about it, leaning over to his captain with a staged whisper, even with the restraints tight around his wrists. There was still some bruising under his eyes. He slouched. His voice warbled if he weren’t thinking too hard, but Kraglin was back. On his feet and everything. “You know it’s pretty much a dead ringer suicide mission.”

“Still need the damn converter.”

“I can getcha  yer converter, sir.”

“Feel like I’m just talkin’ circles with ya, Kraggles,” said Yondu. He tested the strength of his manacles once more. “We’ve done this dance before.”

“You gonna take me dancin’ when this’s all over?” Kraglin crowed next to him. Yondu glared from his side. Woulda made a quick obscene gesture, but he forked his tongue into the side of his mouth and kept it shut. Maybe they would go dancing. Somewhere there were plenty of loose pockets and strobe lights to distract. “Sir,” said Kraglin again as he leaned in close. “Can ya just say yer jealous already or what?”

“Never,” Yondu answered as he lifted his chin, looking very much in control despite the armed guards what were taking him into the tall spire of the Xandarian headquarters of the Nova Corp.

There were three guards on either side of them. Six men didn’t seem like enough protection, but perhaps Irani Rael was showing some leniency since he’d brought with him her precious little artifact. Like having three men was some kinda gratitude or something. They done showed up soon as Yondu’s M-ship touched Xandar and put the manacles on their wrists while reading rights and all. Pretty efficient. Looked like Nova Corp was ticking along just fine with their new Nova Prime. They done picked a fine one to fill the role.

Yondu knew Rael from the Battle of Espil. The Ravagers were there to take out Kree fanatics and, at the time, Admiral Rael was leading her troops through a presumed massacre. Nova Corp had lost men, Kree had lost men, and Yondu was just there on happenstance. Heard the rumblings through the waves, figured there might be something to salvage off Espil once it was all said and done.  At the time of the battle, Yondu had only to convince his crew on the merits of beheading a bunch of Kree—who couldn’t ask for more, honestly. Picking up scraps, cargo, some Kree tech the Doc figured would be useful. It helped. Nova Corp, battered as they were, managed to pull ahead, no thanks to aid from Stakar Ogord’s protégé. Espil was back under Nova Corp command after and the rest had become Xandarian history.

“How you likin’ yer new Nova Prime?” Yondu asked the guard to his left. “She got a rod up her ass the size of my fist, I reckon.” Yondu laughed, but the guard didn’t deign a response. “So do you, looks of it. Kraggles, you see these pricks?”

“I ain’t lookin’ at nobody’s prick, sir,” said Kraglin, chin jutted forward as he took in the design of the ceiling. “So’s yer not jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous,” said Yondu.

“Yondu Udonta and company. Right this way, sir,” said one of the Nova officers, leading them along through an open doorway.

The observatory room was huge. High vaulted ceilings and clear windows wrapping around the perimeter made it look more open than it was. Whole thing was bright light and delicate glass. It hurt enough that Yondu had to squint, just a little, but he didn’t dare throw his arm up over his eyes when they waltzed in. Kraglin made a sound, probably reeling from the same illuminated onslaught. They were far more suited to the Eclector’s dimly lit hallways and the expanse of void amongst the stars.

“Captain Udonta,” came the familiar voice of Nova Corps former Admiral. “A pleasure.”

“I highly doubt that, Rael,” said Yondu with his eyes closed. He blinked before he looked over at Nova Prime. “You put on all yer floodlights for little ol’ me?”

“From my reports, your home world can be quite bright. The dual—”

“That ain’t home, Rael,” said Yondu and smiled, flashing as many of his capped metal teeth as he could. Kraglin scuffled in line next to him, offering the same Ravager grin.

“Perhaps,” said Nova Prime, nodding. She folded her hands in front of her, mirroring the stance of the two criminals before her, each of them standing resplendent in their uniforms. Sure, Yondu and Kraglin’s were covered in the wear and tear of battle, of space, of life, but it was still damn resplendent.

“I swear we heard there was gonna be a pardon for my Ravager clan once I handed you what you asked for.”

“Show me,” said Nova Prime, her eyes half-lidded as she lifted her chin ever so slightly and the light overhead played like solar fire in that overly coifed ‘do of hers.

Yondu didn’t say anything. He didn’t even reach for the crystal. He held out his hands, showing off the touch points of the ectromag manacles, waiting for someone to undo them. Irani blinked slowly, refusing to speed this along any, before she nodded at one of the guards nearby. He stepped forward and undid the restraints. Yondu rubbed his wrists, even though they weren’t any sore.

“The Iv’ro Lan?” asked Nova Prime.

“Do Kraggles, first,” said Yondu, pointing a thumb back at his first mate.

A sigh from Nova Prime before she nodded to the guard again. He hopped on over to Kraglin, who held out his wrists just the same, looking bored outta his goddamn mind. Good for him. If he felt bored now, surrounded by armed guards, then he was well and truly on the mend.

After Kraglin was free, Yondu fished out the crystal he’d stashed in his breast pocket. The thing made his fingers sing, just as it always did. Once it was out, Irani Rael reached for it, taking a step forward before Yondu held it up.

“Hold on,” he said, wrapping his fist tight around the dull crystal. “’Fore I hand this over and we seal the deal, I gotta question about this here artifact.”

Nova Prime clicked her tongue, nearly rolling her eyes in the back of her head as she planted her feet firmly. Mild nuisance at best. She wasn’t going to show off her real feelings till she had her title for a few lunar clicks, that’s fer damn sure. Good for her for keeping a strong face about it.

“It’s an ancient artifact,” she said, her voice only slightly laced with the full breadth of her annoyance.

“No, I get that. Xandarian?”

“No,” she answered. “Nor Kree. It comes before either.��

“Huh.” Yondu looked it over. He didn’t say, but when he flexed his forearm, it helped him from dropping the damn thing, since it was doing a number on the nerves in his hands. Like he’d ever let anyone know that, though. He was kinda waiting to see the look on Irani Rael’s face when she took it back. “And what’s it do, exactly?”

“It collects ever single strand of data ever presented to it,” said Nova Prime. She looked at the thing like it was glowing some holy kinda light. “It has infinite knowledge, history, everything. Scientific discoveries. Advanced military weaponry blueprints. Codes. Languages. Civilian records from dozens of inhabited planets dating centuries. Art and music. The Nova Corp have been able to unlock one fifth of the information on the Iv’ro Lan in the last twenty-seven years.”

“And you just let the Kree walk out with it?”

“They did not just ‘walk out,’” said Nova Prime. Yondu noticed a little twitch there near her eye. She was just about done playing his game. “It was stolen after the Kree elite discovered intel on unlocking some part of their stagnant genetic evolution. We believe—”

“You believe yadda yadda yadda,” said Yondu and finally tossed the Iv’ro Lan crystal.

Nova Prime swiftly activated a tripod she had been hiding in her hands, pulling the Iv’ro Lan into the electrified net where it hovered harmlessly in front of her. Didn’t even need to touch the damn thing. Yondu’s mouth turned down at the corners since he was cheated of seeing Irani Rael grapple with the thing. He didn’t dare shake out his hand to get the feeling of pins and needles outta his skin.

“I’d lock that thing up better than ya did before,” said Yondu, scowling at the tripod disk.

“We will,” said Nova Prime. She handed it to a soldier nearby. “We thank you for your services, Captain Udonta. You have saved the lives of billions of Xandarians by collecting that artifact.”

“Yeah.” Yondu scratched underneath his chin, running his long jagged nails up and down his neck in broad strokes. “S’pose I did. How we sealin’ our pardon? I gotta get back to my men before we get a fleet of yer precious Nova Corp men surrounding my ship to take ‘em in.”

“The pardon has already been sent out,” said Nova Prime with her little dignified as shit head nod. “Your names have been cleared and you may deal again in Xandarian space.”

“S’pect there’s a caveat somewhere in there?” asked Yondu.

“And I suspect you understand what that caveat is without my saying,” said Nova Prime.

Yondu gave her a quick, sloppy salute with his left hand, waiving two fingers her way as he pivoted towards the door. Kraglin was on his feet quick in the same breath.

“Sir,” he whispered, actually keeping it between the two of them this time, “I ain’t saying I wasn’t payin’ attention or nothin’, but what ‘caveat’ you two talkin’ about?”

“We’re expected to do nothin’ strictly criminal,” said Yondu, already out of the observatory room. He felt much more comfortable once they were in the slightly less bright hallways of Nova Corps outer station hallway. “Just means we don’t get caught.”

“Oh,” said Kraglin. “Well, sure. Why’d we wanna get caught anyhow?”

“’Cause it’s fun,” said Yondu. He hooked an arm around Kraglin’s neck, dragging him in step beside him with a quick yank. “Now, didn’t I say we’d go dancin’ or what?”

“I thought you was just bein’ funny, sir,” said Kraglin, his head tucked right near Yondu’s chest.

“Me too,” said Yondu with a quick, fiery laugh. “But let’s go get the boys and take ‘em out. We’ve earned it.”

They stalked outta Nova Corps’ building, standing in the busy Xandarian city with the breath and swagger of essentially free men. Any of the old contacts on Xandar were back as unrestricted game. Yondu wanted to see The Broker about any of his “high-end community” dealers. Always had neat shit to steal. There were a few others on the planet, meant a few wealthy pit stops before they went back to Eclector, which was waiting up there in the void. Nova Prime didn’t pay out in units, but lifting Yondu’s clan’s ban on Xandar already put them in a better position.

“We can go see Uprish about all that art we got outta Gor’Tun’s,” said Yondu as he slipped his hand to a more manageable hold on Kraglin’s neck. “That’d put us right to fixing up the ship.”

“I’ll send a call and see who’s comin’ planetside than, sir,” said Kraglin. He didn’t squirm outta Yondu’s reach any. Didn’t have the strength for it or was just enjoying the contact, Yondu couldn’t say.

The Captain’s M-ship was parked nearby with a little Terran tapping on the controls, just bouncing with the excitement of getting to fly once they were all done. They could see him there through the windshield. Peter stood up in the chair and waved down at Yondu and Kraglin there on the landing pad.

“Seven hells,” said Yondu, even though he was smiling bright. “I was gonna teach the kid how to fly.”

“Not on planet, I hope,” said Kraglin.

“We just got our pardon,” said Yondu. “I ain’t gonna get us banned by having the kid run my ship through all these shiny buildings. That’d be criminal, Kraggles.”

He laughed again. Couldn’t help it. It came roaring outta Yondu easy as rain. He felt good. And not that he had much good to hold onto, he held onto this. Onto Kraglin at his side, just by the scruff of his neck, and the sight of Quill there bouncing in the captain’s seat. Sure, Yondu would cuff him on the ear for putting his boots on the chair, but that was only for later. For now, Yondu smiled, holding onto the moment like he had all the damn time in the world. They was all gonna go out somewhere, go dancin’, expel some steam, get their trades, earn their units, steal some shit. It was good. It glowed in his mind with something like love.

“But we’re taking Quill out dancin’ too,” said Yondu, laughing again when Kraglin groaned his protest. “That boy loves his music. He’d probably love to go out dancing.”

“Sir, that sounds plain awful.”

Nothing was getting to him then. Not then. Yondu just shook his first mate a little and said, “It sure does.”

[mynameisdreartblog]

Vacation Resorts 2

Leo: Tikal Futura. Alright, we’re at the spot now. <The news van stops abruptly along the dirt path leading up to the rustic chapel.> Now, a report from a local named [Clara] said that there’s one man still left inside this abandoned building on the outskirts of Chisec. [She] says that the man recounts experiences of supernatural phenomenon, particularly miraculous visions in ordinary objects and a divine narrative being revealed to him. «You know this guy’s just another looney preacher, right? They’d profess absolutely anything to believe what they already preconceived: It’s the whole damn point of their work.» Yeah, but I think we’re losing interest in the middle-aged demographic that eats up these kinds of stories. Fabricated or not, we need something that explores the paranormal and appeals to religious sensibilities. «True, and we aren’t a scientific magazine or anything; I’m just a scientist.» Yeah, yeah, I know you received a degree in biology from some fancy university in the West and you wanna bring enlightenment to the stupid masses here, but can it for now, alright? <Oro and [Viz] step out and approach the chapel: The only thing that accompanies them is the setting sun, gawking children past their curfew, and familiar barking.> [,] <A service-worker steps out of the building and shocks both of them because they thought there was only one.> Hey, who are you‽ <The service-worker remain silent, communicating only in hand-signals.> «They’re not speaking, Oro; they must be mute.» <The service-worker takes out a sheet of paper that has blank requirements, yet to be filled out. Confusingly, they took a pen out of their pocket and gestured it towards Oro.> D-do you want me to do something with this paper? Do you want me to sign it? <They nod.> «What the hell’s going on? Forget about this! <[Viz] takes the pen out of Oro’s hand and directs them back towards the chapel.> Focus on what we’re here for.» <The service-worker walks back the same path they went, folding the paper secretly.> […] You know, they were probably a service-worker and those were their documentation forms: Probably a student needing hours to pass. «What the hell are you talking about, [Oro]?» I don’t know, [Viz].

Taurus: The LaLiT Chandigarh. <We cut to a scene of a quiet night after the business day has finished. All that fills the air is the satisfaction of all the energy in the room releasing after what can only be described as genuine accomplishment.>  It’s done and dead: There’s nothing left to say of it but that it did its purpose and let it rest. «You’re always ready to end the day to just terminate it. I don’t get it; it frustrates me actually.» I do that all the time; have you not gotten used to it? I hang up before you can even begin the first syllable of ‘love you’ so it ends up being a dissonant L sound. There’s no need to say such things: The purpose of the conversation came and went, so why add on something we know already? «<Breathes in> I might just say how I feel…» Whenever you want to do that, let me know. As for now, the post mortem of the day begins! <Gresham turns on the old TV and adjusts the dials to the combination he isn’t secure in knowing works but still trusts it because of recent precedent. The contents remain typical until twelve minutes in where a particularly obnoxious yet catching commercial plays. The commercial depicts a woman in her mid-forties wearing a wrinkled suit, and she begins speaking in an almost tired voice.>  [,] «Imagine this: You’re a giant amongst the crowd of normally sized people.» <Gresham reflects to himself constant comments> I don’t have to; I’m already above 200cm tall. «Next, imagine that TVs haven’t been invented yet, and you’re through the paper to find what you’re looking for.» Huh, what is it exactly that I’m looking for? Also, they’re asking me to go pretty far back; TVs have been around here since, oh, the ’70s? «There you are, in your local library.» Highly unrelatable already, heh. «You pull a particular book from the shelf that piques your interest, and upon turning its pages, you find this particular line: ’My blood will drip onto the floor until the dead say, “Thank you, no more!”’» Ah, err, what? «Now, tell me, what does this quote mean to you? Next, whatever it is you thought of, it can help you lead to massive success!» That was a bit too… poetic for get-rich schemes. I’m gonna turn the TV off. <A blip is heard, and the TV shuts off: A look of desperation appears on the woman on TV appears terrifyingly desperate.>

Aquarius: Aulani. Only the worlds that matter will remain... <Aukai rips off the current page of her captain’s log and tosses it aside.> «You update it so rarely, and for the few times you do so, you tear out take out more pages than a frequent writer.» Well, I don’t like writing: The only time I do it is to label something momentarily important in a greater project. Understand that I only see it as a method of placing footnotes whenever I’d find them useful. «I do know that about you, and I can see the emphasized importance they have out here: It’s kinda difficult to get the right paints in the middle of the ocean. So economically, I can see why they’re important: You need to arrive back at port and gods know if your memory is still intact by then.» It’s difficult, but not impossible if you can muster a couple of targeted catches! A little bit of red from the blood, a little bit of yellow from the blubber, and a little bit of green from algae. It’d stink to high hell, but that’s appealing to some customers. «You’re talking about galleries, right? I hope you are.» Galleries? You know me better than that: I leave some in the storage forever or leave them in the environment for random people to stumble upon. Galleries are for aimless people. «A murderer hasn’t discovered them yet and hunted you down, right?» Uh, no? Last time that happened was… I don’t think it’s happened yet, actually. «Hah, seriously though, you seem to take a self-destructive attitude to your art as of lately.» I think about my involvement in that process a lot: Like, I feel that I have rather minimal involvement to the point where I don’t think about it at all — It’s subconscious. I don’t know if there’d be something catastrophic if I wasn’t there for the process, like a vegetative, bioterrorist attack occurs if I’m not there. I’ve done plenty unique so far, but it’s nothing other people have done also, so it’s only unique if you isolate me, but at that point, I don’t wanna be isolated. Recognize me for what’s there, you know? A niche doesn’t need to be consistent, nor do I need to be: Nothing of my philosophy entails that I know anything other than the stars in the sky or the conscience in my brain… «I’m sure there was a footnote in that spiel.» You’re probably right.

Pisces: Royal Horizon Baobab. We all know space is big, like, really big. If you want a perspective of how big it is, let me tell you about the biggest star, which is currently believed to be UY Scuti, which has an estimated volume of 21-billion times that of our Sun that would extend to the orbit of Saturn if it were placed into our solar system. While that’s terrifyingly huge, it’s rather miniscule in comparison to other objects which are even more impossibly massive. One such object is supermassive blackholes: They are millions, if not billions, of times the mass of our Sun. This is just a slice of the sheer scale of the universe now at our understanding, so that makes you reconsider exactly what your position is in the universe. [,] «Maghazi, you do this all the time: You arrive at our table, and then you blabber on and on about info that means nothing to our everyday lives despite how much awe you put into your speech. I mean, it’s impressive that you know all of these facts about space and time and whatever, but who the hell cares?» <Maghazi’s drink is about to spill over until he catches it at the last minute, giving him a brief amount of time to form a response in its excuse.> Well, they’re interesting to me, and the way I tell other people about them is by injecting them into conversations to see if I can bring about that moment in time where everyone is contemplative of their roles. <One of his company stares at him confusingly while the others idly continue to their own thing, implying that none of them heard Maghazi to begin with.> I’m referring to the moments where everyone contemplates what exactly it all means that they’re alive and talking among each other: While I think these moments are futile deep down, there’s a part of me that wants to see the value in them. «When has the largeness of something ever deprived value from it? If that were the case, you’d be the least valuable member of the wrestling team since you’re the stoutest of us all, but you and I hope that isn’t the case, right?» You seriously think there’s an intrinsic value to our lives that formulated entirely through chance? «A chance is what brought you here, hasn’t it? Look around you: Observe the poverty, despair, and societal misery around you. Why have you become so desensitized to this to focus on questions relating to the observations you’ll never live to see?» <The table is now emptied, leaving only Maghazi and The Other.> I remain unconvinced.

[badbackgroundscience]

A Nightmare Planet for Fictional Terrans & Real Astrophysicists Alike

I read a few anthology comics for this blog  – Journey Into Mystery, Strange Tales, Tales of Suspense, Tales to Astonish (lots of tales…). This is because a lot of Marvel’s superheroes didn’t start with their own titles. However, I’ve only ever written a blog post about one non-superhero story, from Amazing Fantasy #15 (because I couldn’t find anything to write about science-wise in the first appearance of Spider-Man…), and I’m pretty sure it was the second post I ever made. The reason why should be fairly obvious – no one cares about those.

But every once in a while I see one that could use some scientific commentary. They’re usually space-related, because that’s my jam, but not so different from content that’s either popped up in one of the superhero stories already or I’ve a feeling they’re bound to show up sooner or later.

I don’t know if a superhero will have to deal with a planet 2000 times bigger than the Sun, inhabited by a population of humanoids 1000 times bigger than your average man.

The Deets: The year is 2500; mankind has been at peace for a while, relies on solar energy, can cure most diseases, and the few soldiers left in existence are seen as a complete waste of taxpayer money because they do absolutely nothing. But when this nightmare of a planet passes the solar system, 12 of them are sent to the surface (an 18-hour trip) to find out what the giants want with the Earth. Turns out everything on the planet runs on at a much slower time, so everything (except the humans) appears frozen in place; it’ll take a month for the planet to pass the solar system from the perspective of Earth, but a “twinkling of an eye” to the planet’s inhabitants. This recon mission somehow makes everyone back home love the military (…but…but they didn’t do anything…).

How Big is Too Big?

Our Sun has an approximate radius of 700,000 km. I say approximate because

it’s not a perfect sphere; since the giant ball of plasma rotates, mass that would normally prefer to hang out wherever it darn well pleases gets drawn toward the equator – just like the Earth, or a human being who spins around really fast and watches their limp arms rise up. That being said, its oblateness it actually pretty tiny – the difference between the equatorial and polar diameters is only about 10 km.

the Sun doesn’t have an actual physical ‘surface’. Astronomers define the Sun’s ‘surface’ as the inner edge of a specific layer called the photosphere. That’s because below this layer, the Sun is opaque in the visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum; it’s the ‘surface’ where it appears the Sun’s light is being emitted. But again, it’s not a definitive opaque/transparent line.

While the largest object in the neighborhood,* the Sun is by no means the largest star in the known universe. You might have come across one of many videos or gifs that start out comparing the sizes of small rocky bodies and end up showing the largest known star. The current record holder is UY Scuti, with an estimated radius about 1,700 times bigger than the Sun (If you plopped it down in place of our own star, its photosphere would engulf Jupiter). Measurements for stars this large are uncertain and are regularly updated – the old record holder was VY Canis Majoris with an estimated 1,800-2,100 solar radii (aka R☉), but it’s now down to 1,420 R☉(plus or minus 120), and may be as low as only 600 R☉.

However, there are astronomical objects out there that can reach and surpass that 2000 R☉size. They’re supermassive black holes (SMBHs). The closest quasar,** named H1821+643, has a SMBH with an event horizon about 89 billion km in radius. The furthest Pluto gets from the Sun is 7.4 billion km (i.e. the EH is 12.7 times further than that). UY Scuti’s radius? 1.2 billion km.

Granted, in 1963 black holes were considered theoretical at best. In fact, the term ‘black hole‘ didn’t show up in print until early 1964, in Ann Ewing’s article “‘Black Holes’ in Space”, but didn’t really hit the ‘mainstream’ until John Wheeler started using it three years later.

It’s been suggested the largest a SMBH can get (roughly speaking) is 50 billion times more massive than our sun, which would have an event horizon 150 billion km in radius. If we’re going to talk about dwarfing everything in the universe, supermassive black holes are the way to go.

At least assuming you can’t use entire galaxies. Those are way bigger…

What Kind of Nightmare is this?

Lets’s assume the planet’s as big as the comic says it is. As I mentioned before, certain celestial objects can be that size. But with size, comes mass.

With stars, mass and radius don’t have the same relationship that more down-to-earth objects might (i.e. that mass is proportional to the radius cubed), and it varies depending on the star’s initial mass and where it is in its stage of life. For example, consider two stars in Orion: Betelgeuse is about 888 R☉and 12 M☉,*** but Rigel A is 80 R☉and 23 M☉. UY Scuti has an estimated mass only around 10 M☉. Astronomers have struggled to find any star over 150 M☉. So, if we haven’t found stars 2000 times more massive than our own, we certainly haven’t found a planet that size.

The largest planets we have found are not Earth-like (i.e. rocky bodies); they’re larger versions of Jupiter. Astronomers are finding new exoplanets as I type, but the largest planets with similar densities to Earth are only about twice (maybe 2.5) as big as Earth. There are a lot of exoplanets with masses in-between Earth and Neptune (the next largest planet in the solar system) with unknown compositions; they might be tiny ‘gas giants’, or large ‘terrestrial planets’.

But the writer clearly intends this planet to be an Earth-analog, so let’s calculate its mass as such. To be made of the same materials as Earth, and be that big, it would need to have a mass of 6.2×1040 kg.

That’s about 31 billion times more massive than the Sun, roughly equivalent to that supermassive black hole in the center of quasar H1821+643. (Aside: Even if we only wanted the planet to be 2000 M☉, black holes are still the only astronomical objects that we know can be that massive.)

With a mass of 31 billion M☉, and a radius 2000 R☉, gravity is so strong that even 92 billion km away from the surface light can’t escape. (With a mass akin to a SMBH, what would you expect?) Not only should people on Earth not be able to see the planet and report it’s “inhabited by soldiers of enormous size”, if that thing came anywhere near our planet (i.e. “millions of miles away” as mentioned above), the entire kit n’ kaboodle would pass the event horizon and never be able to come out. The Earth. The Sun. All the planets no matter where they are in their orbits…

…If it passed near but not event horizon-crossing close, its gravity would still be so strong it would ruin all of the planets’ orbits and probably fling all of them out into the void of space.

Meanwhile, gravity on the surface of the planet would be about 2 million meters per second per second, compared to 9.8 for us. Or, put in terms of g‘s, 217,000g. Any humans would be crushed into a jelly under that force. Those dozen military guys the Earth sent to check things out?

Dead.

Everybody dead.

[Side note: If the mass was only 2000 M☉, the event horizon radius would be 5900 km, which is smaller than the Earth’s radius by a few hundred km. If both mass a radius were 2000 times the Sun’s values, the gravitational acceleration at the surface would be 0.14 m/s2. Tiny.]

The wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey

It is true that in the presence of a larger gravitational force, time slows down. This was explained by Albert Einstein in his General Theory of Relativity, and is where all (or most) of the drama in Interstellar comes from. It works even with small differences in gravity – GPS satellites orbiting the Earth are further away from the planet’s center of mass than we are on the surface, and therefore experience less of a gravitational pull than we do. And they have to compensate for the time dilation that happens down on the surface relative to them.

You can’t calculate time dilation for people inside the event horizon of a black hole (or a planet, in our case). It’s infinity. But even if the planet were only so massive that the event horizon were just under the surface (about half a billion solar masses), as soon as the away team lands on the planet, they’re under the same gravitational force as the giant bugs and the 6000-foot tall humanoids (Note: based on the drawings, they’re clearly not 1000x taller than a man, as the news anchor claimed. They might be 100ft tall, tops…). They’d experience the same slowdown of their internal clocks.

[Side note: If both mass and radius were 2000 times the Sun’s values, time dilation on the surface would be basically nonexistent.]

The recon team would be stuck on the planet as it flies through our solar system – everyone back on Earth long dead by the time they make it back to report their findings.

Happy endings, all around...

* “Neighborhood” meaning within 4.3 lightyears. The closest star system to ours - Alpha Centauri, has 3 stars, one of which (Alpha Centauri A) is slightly bigger than our Sun in both mass and radius

** a galactic center powered by a SMBH ‘eating’ matter to such a degree that the light released from the process outshines all the rest of the light in the galaxy

*** 1 M☉- i.e. the mass of the Sun - is 2×1030 kg. Also, Betelgeuse’s size has some pretty big uncertainty - we’re talking plus or minus 200 solar radii.

Strange Tales Annual #2

[readbookywooks]

Before twilight faded to blackness, he was already in his new favorite spot in the forest corner, curled up against the ivy, wondering if he could ever run again. Wondering how he could possibly do the same thing tomorrow. Especially when it seemed so pointless. Being a Runner had lost its glamour. After one day.

Every ounce of the noble courage he’d felt, the will to make a difference, the promise to himself to reunite Chuck with his family—it all vanished into an exhausted fog of hopeless, wretched weariness.

He was somewhere very close to sleep when a voice spoke in his head, a pretty, feminine voice that sounded as if it came from a fairy goddess trapped in his skull. The next morning, when everything started going crazy, he’d wonder if the voice had been real or part of a dream. But he heard it all the same, and remembered every word:

Tom, I just triggered the Ending.

CHAPTER 34

Thomas awoke to a weak, lifeless light. His first thought was that he must’ve gotten up earlier than usual, that dawn was still an hour away. But then he heard the shouts. And then he looked up, through the leafy canopy of branches.

The sky was a dull slab of gray—not the natural pale light of morning.

He jumped to his feet, put his hand on the wall to steady himself as he craned his neck to gawk toward the heavens. There was no blue, no black, no stars, no purplish fan of a creeping dawn. The sky, every last inch of it, was slate gray. Colorless and dead.

He looked down at his watch—it was a full hour past his mandatory waking time. The brilliance of the sun should’ve awakened him—had done so easily since he’d arrived at the Glade. But not today.

He glanced upward again, half expecting it to have changed back to normal. But it was all gray. Not cloudy, not twilight, not the early minutes of dawn. Just gray.

The sun had disappeared.

Thomas found most of the Gladers standing near the entrance to the Box, pointing at the dead sky, everyone talking at once. Based on the time, breakfast should’ve already been served, people should be working. But there was something about the largest object in the solar system vanishing that tended to disrupt normal schedules.

In truth, as Thomas silently watched the commotion, he didn’t feel nearly as panicked or frightened as his instincts told him he ought to be. And it surprised him that so many of the others looked like lost chicks thrown from the coop. It was, in fact, ridiculous.

The sun obviously had not disappeared—that wasn’t possible.

Though that was what it seemed like—signs of the ball of furious fire nowhere to be seen, the slanting shadows of morning absent. But he and all the Gladers were far too rational and intelligent to conclude such a thing. No, there had to be a scientifically acceptable reason for what they were witnessing. And whatever it was, to Thomas it meant one thing: the fact they could no longer see the sun probably meant they’d never been able to in the first place. A sun couldn’t just disappear. Their sky had to have been—and still was—fabricated. Artificial.

In other words, the sun that had shone down on these people for two years, providing heat and life to everything, was not the sun at all. Somehow, it had been fake. Everything about this place was fake.

Thomas didn’t know what that meant, didn’t know how it was possible. But he knew it to be true—it was the only explanation his rational mind could accept. And it was obvious from the other Gladers’ reactions that none of them had figured this out until now.

Chuck found him, and the look of fear on the boy’s face pinched Thomas’s heart.

“What do you think happened?” Chuck said, a pitiful tremor in his voice, his eyes glued to the sky. Thomas thought his neck must hurt something awful. “Looks like a big gray ceiling—close enough you could almost touch it.”

Thomas followed Chuck’s gaze and looked up. “Yeah, makes you wonder about this place.” For the second time in twenty-four hours, Chuck had nailed it. The sky did look like a ceiling. Like the ceiling of a massive room. “Maybe something’s broken. I mean, maybe it’ll be back.”

Chuck finally quit gawking and made eye contact with Thomas. “Broken? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Thomas could answer, the faint memory of last night, before he fell asleep, came to him, Teresa’s words inside his mind. She’d said, I just triggered the Ending. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? A sour rot crept into his belly. Whatever the explanation, whatever that had been in the sky, the real sun or not, it was gone. And that couldn’t be a good thing.

“Thomas?” Chuck asked, lightly tapping him on the upper arm.

“Yeah?” Thomas’s mind felt hazy.

“What’d you mean by broken?” Chuck repeated.

Thomas felt like he needed time to think about it all. “Oh. I don’t know. Must be things about this place we obviously don’t understand. But you can’t just make the sun disappear from space. Plus, there’s still enough light to see by, as faint as it is. Where’s that coming from?”

Chuck’s eyes widened, as if the darkest, deepest secret of the universe had just been revealed to him. “Yeah, where is it coming from? What’s going on, Thomas?”

Thomas reached out and squeezed the younger boy’s shoulder. He felt awkward. “No clue, Chuck. Not a clue. But I’m sure Newt and Alby’ll figure things out.”

“Thomas!” Minho was running up to them. “Quit your leisure time with Chucky here and let’s get going. We’re already late.”

Thomas was stunned. For some reason he’d expected the weird sky to throw all normal plans out the window.

“You’re still going out there?” Chuck asked, clearly surprised as well. Thomas was glad the boy had asked the question for him.

“Of course we are, shank,” Minho said. “Don’t you have some sloppin’ to do?” He looked from Chuck to Thomas. “If anything, gives us even more reason to get our butts out there. If the sun’s really gone, won’t be long before plants and animals drop dead, too. I think the desperation level just went up a notch.”

The last statement struck Thomas deep down. Despite all his ideas—all the things he’d pitched to Minho—he wasn’t eager to change how things had been done for the last two years. A mixture of excitement and dread swept over him when he realized what Minho was saying. “You mean we’re going to stay out there overnight? Explore the walls a little more closely?”

Minho shook his head. “No, not yet. Maybe soon, though.” He looked up toward the sky. “Man—what a way to wake up. Come on, let’s go.”

Thomas was quiet as he and Minho got their things ready and ate a lightning-fast breakfast. His thoughts were churning too much about the gray sky and what Teresa—at least, he thought it had been the girl—had told him in his mind to participate in any conversation.

What had she meant by the Ending? Thomas couldn’t knock the feeling that he should tell somebody. Everybody.

But he didn’t know what it meant, and he didn’t want them to know he had a girl’s voice in his head. They’d think he’d really gone bonkers, maybe even lock him up—and for good this time.

After a lot of deliberation, he decided to keep his mouth shut and went running with Minho for his second day of training, below a bleak and colorless sky.

They saw the Griever before they’d even made it to the door leading from Section Eight to Section One.

Minho was a few feet ahead of Thomas. He’d just rounded a corner to the right when he slammed to a stop, his feet almost skidding out from under him. He jumped back and grabbed Thomas by the shirt, pushing him against the wall.

“Shh,” Minho whispered. “There’s a freaking Griever up there.”

Thomas widened his eyes in question, felt his heart pick up the pace, even though it had already been pumping hard and steady.

Minho simply nodded, then put his finger to his lips. He let go of Thomas’s shirt and took a step back, then crept up to the corner around which he’d seen the Griever. Very slowly, he leaned forward to take a peek. Thomas wanted to scream at him to be careful.

Minho’s head jerked back and he turned to face Thomas. His voice was still a whisper. “It’s just sitting up there—almost like that dead one we saw.”

“What do we do?” Thomas asked, as quietly as possible. He tried to ignore the panic flaring inside him. “Is it coming toward us?”

“No, idiot—I just told you it was sitting there.”

“Well?” Thomas raised his hands to his sides in frustration. “What do we do?” Standing so close to a Griever seemed like a really bad idea.

Minho paused a few seconds, thinking before he spoke. “We have to go that way to get to our section. Let’s just watch it awhile—if it comes after us, we’ll run back to the Glade.” He took another peek, then quickly looked over his shoulder. “Crap—it’s gone! Come on!”

Minho didn’t wait for a response, didn’t see the look of horror Thomas had just felt widen his own eyes. Minho took off running in the direction where he’d seen the Griever. Though his instincts told him not to, Thomas followed.

He sprinted down the long corridor after Minho, turned left, then right. At every turn, they slowed so the Keeper could look around the corner first. Each time he whispered back to Thomas that he’d seen the tail end of the Griever disappearing around the next turn. This went on for ten minutes, until they came to the long hallway that ended at the Cliff, where beyond lay nothing but the lifeless sky. The Griever was charging toward that sky.

Minho stopped so abruptly Thomas almost ran him over. Then Thomas stared in shock as up ahead the Griever dug in with its spikes and spun forward right up to the Cliff’s edge, then off, into the gray abyss. The creature disappeared from sight, a shadow swallowed by more shadow.

CHAPTER 35

“That settles it,” Minho said.

Thomas stood next to him on the edge of the Cliff, staring at the gray nothingness beyond. There was no sign of anything, to the left, right, down, up, or ahead, for as far as he could see. Nothing but a wall of blankness.

“Settles what?” Thomas asked.

“We’ve seen it three times now. Something’s up.”

“Yeah.” Thomas knew what he meant, but waited for Minho’s explanation anyway.

“That dead Griever I found—it ran this way, and we never saw it come back or go deeper into the Maze. Then those suckers we tricked into jumping past us.”

“Tricked?” Thomas said. “Maybe not such a trick.”

Minho looked over at him, contemplative. “Hmm. Anyway, then this.” He pointed out at the abyss. “Not much doubt anymore—somehow the Grievers can leave the Maze this way. Looks like magic, but so does the sun disappearing.”

“If they can leave this way,” Thomas added, continuing Minho’s line of reasoning, “so could we.” A thrill of excitement shot through him.

Minho laughed. “There’s your death wish again. Wanna hang out with the Grievers, have a sandwich, maybe?”

Thomas felt his hopes drop. “Got any better ideas?”

“One thing at a time, Greenie. Let’s get some rocks and test this place out. There has to be some kind of hidden exit.”

Thomas helped Minho as they scrabbled around the corners and crannies of the Maze, picking up as many loose stones as possible. They got more by thumbing cracks in the wall, spilling broken chunks onto the ground. When they finally had a sizable pile, they hauled it over right next to the edge and took a seat, feet dangling over the side. Thomas looked down and saw nothing but a gray descent.

Minho pulled out his pad and pencil, placed them on the ground next to him. “All right, we gotta take good notes. And memorize it in that shuck head of yours, too. If there’s some kind of optical illusion hiding an exit from this place, I don’t wanna be the one who screws up when the first shank tries to jump into it.”

“That shank oughtta be the Keeper of the Runners,” Thomas said, trying to make a joke to hide his fear. Being this close to a place where Grievers might come out at any second was making him sweat. “You’d wanna hold on to one beauty of a rope.”

Minho picked up a rock from their pile. “Yeah. Okay, let’s take turns tossing them, zigzagging back and forth out there. If there’s some kind of magical exit, hopefully it’ll work with rocks, too—make them disappear.”

Thomas took a rock and carefully threw it to their left, just in front of where the left wall of the corridor leading to the Cliff met the edge. The jagged piece of stone fell. And fell. Then disappeared into the gray emptiness.

Minho went next. He tossed his rock just a foot or so farther out than Thomas had. It also fell far below. Thomas threw another one, another foot out. Then Minho. Each rock fell to the depths. Thomas kept following Minho’s orders—they continued until they’d marked a line reaching at least a dozen feet from the Cliff, then moved their target pattern a foot to the right and started coming back toward the Maze.

All the rocks fell. Another line out, another line back. All the rocks fell. They threw enough rocks to cover the entire left half of the area in front of them, covering the distance anyone—or anything—could possibly jump. Thomas’s discouragement grew with every toss, until it turned into a heavy mass of blah.

He couldn’t help chiding himself—it’d been a stupid idea.

Then Minho’s next rock disappeared.

It was the strangest, most hard-to-believe thing Thomas had ever seen.

Minho had thrown a large chunk, a piece that had fallen from one of the cracks in the wall. Thomas had watched, deeply concentrating on each and every rock. This one left Minho’s hand, sailed forward, almost in the exact center of the Cliff line, started its descent to the unseen ground far below. Then it vanished, as if it had fallen through a plane of water or mist.

[faithful-grigori]

”#scientifically i mean pretty sure we all came from the same star since our solar system was formed all outta the same stuff cu, #but like just let me have this one”

Idk man im havin a moment