Just make sure you both don't lose the repair manual for the WCS.

http://www.wimmerspace.com/Images/Pic/USSpaceLaunches/Toilet-Facilities-On-Board.jpg
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Space_toilet

On Sep 19, 8:41 am, Chris Jenkins <[email protected]> wrote:
> Our analysis and data processing skills are too weak...the first step will
> have to be some sort of direct neural interface from our brains to our
> thinking machines. Once we can feed ideas directly from our cerebral cortex
> into virtual models which can test, discard and/or approve, and extrapolate
> from said data a billion times a second, our ability to innovate will in
> itself be a leap of scale, logarithmically. Once we're there, I don't think
> we'll be so limited to the idea of energy expended for forward motion,
> instead finding ways to travel which take advantage of the fact that energy
> is constantly moving at or near light speed through out the universe...we
> just have to catch the wave (or particle) and hang on!
>
> On Sat, Sep 19, 2009 at 12:29 AM, archytas <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> > Trust you to have left me with the 60,000 word filler once the green
> > bosoms start to heave!  I can't think of a viable science-based form
> > of space-time travel - even if we could form a bubble in a warp the
> > Hawking radiation would fry us, though my mate's suggestion we route
> > it through a pot-bellied stove and fry up our bacon and eggs on a
> > ceremonial shovel has merit.  My guess is we'd have to plunder all the
> > energy of the solar system to get to Alpha Proxima, only to be
> > disappointed on bosom size there.  I thus place faith in other forms
> > of life that may be proximate enough to get to with our foil and
> > bubble-wrap technologies and being able to splice with them to gain
> > new sensing apparatus to develop new transport technology.  Algae
> > collaborate to throw themselves up into the jet-stream, so it's just a
> > leap of scale into the vastness.
>
> > On 19 Sep, 04:36, Chris Jenkins <[email protected]> wrote:
> > > You've already covered the plot...I'll fill in the detail. "Her heaving
> > > green bosoms drew my attention..."
>
> > > On Fri, Sep 18, 2009 at 11:31 PM, archytas <[email protected]>
> > wrote:
>
> > > > Might be better if we fleshed out a book between us mate.  We
> > > > obviously have time on our hands on our 'trip' back to Earth before
> > > > Europa's 'water' alters us forever (perhaps giving us something women
> > > > will never forget!) - currently we can't even build a ship that will
> > > > get us to Mars and back because we can't get enough weight in orbit to
> > > > protect us from cosmic radiation, let alone what Jupiter might chuck
> > > > our way (our genes would be well and truly spliced).  With Seven-of-
> > > > Nine out there in the delta-quadrant it seems a shame to be held back
> > > > by such trifles as gravity and the speed of light, especially as she
> > > > is wasting so much time in regeneration rather than the leisure
> > > > activities she so clearly craves (you can get your 3-dimensional chess
> > > > up to speed).  I think the NS editorial staff do the marking.
>
> > > > One possible ending would have us on an initially godforsaken planet
> > > > beyond Alpha Proxima, space-ship screwed by an inadvertent piss in the
> > > > wrong place whilst juiced out, gradually farming hops and herbs and
> > > > about to toss on who would 'splice' to female just as a couple of
> > > > alien beauties wash up at our hastily constructed beach bar.  Sex
> > > > would be their means of communicating the knowledge and joys of the
> > > > universe to us ...
>
> > > > On 19 Sep, 03:52, Chris Jenkins <[email protected]> wrote:
> > > > > Brilliant! Can I vote on this somewhere?
>
> > > > > On Fri, Sep 18, 2009 at 9:46 PM, archytas <[email protected]>
> > > > wrote:
>
> > > > > > This is my entry to the New Scientist science fiction competition
> > (340
> > > > > > words, open until mid-October).
>
> > > > > > The New Europans
>
> > > > > > Jenkins crashed out in the living quarters, 'mushroom juice'
> > leaking
> > > > > > from his lips, eyes bright, mind given up to peace. Europa was
> > hard,
> > > > > > desolate work. A slug of his now cold potion and I joined his
> > dream.
> > > > > > The transit ship was due tomorrow to take our bodies back to a
> > bliss
> > > > > > of gravity they could understand and time away from the plasma
> > bubbled
> > > > > > protection from cosmic radiation death that was the truth of space-
> > > > > > work. Earth was still the only home we could know, even after the
> > wars
> > > > > > of the mid-twenty-first Century. There were homes elsewhere in the
> > > > > > universe. Europa had given up peculiar life from its underground
> > > > > > ocean, living on radiation and gravity-rift energy from Jupiter and
> > > > > > different paced transits of its main moons. Jenko motioned to take
> > > > > > another sip of the foul swill that eased the pull of competing
> > > > > > gravitation, to dream of not being human or of sweet women and cold
> > > > > > beer on sun-warmed sands. I eased the bowl to lips marked by the
> > > > > > strange burn of apparently purified water from the depths below,
> > then
> > > > > > set some stew to fester on the geo-thermal stove. Dull stuff, but
> > > > > > better than we'd get on the weightless voyage and exercise regime
> > via
> > > > > > Moonbase Three to our eco-bubble on Earth. We liked to pretend to
> > > > > > survive our six-month shift like civilised men discussing
> > philosophy.
> > > > > > Other crews were carried out babbling and feet first. This concern
> > > > > > with 'face' was a vestige of what was left Anglo-Saxon in our DNA.
> > > > > > Chris, the younger man was more spliced up than me and hacked the
> > > > > > conditions better until boredom loomed on us like a fog. He was too
> > > > > > young to remember fog. I slumped beside him, a last knowing look
> > > > > > between our eyes that the morning, whatever one was in these
> > > > > > artificial conditions, began our trip to the cold lager we
> > remembered
> > > > > > and the women who had forgotten us. New life rested quietly in the
> > > > > > sample flask. A first hope, perhaps, of a future beyond the human.
>
> > > > > > The idea is to write a few words based 100 years from now.
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