Carson – or, rather, Pearson – stayed mostly to himself, but he had his adherents, too. Who would have thought that a pilot would have become a favourite of the cargo handlers? She wished she could send him to Io with Angela and this Carol White, but that would put him – an experienced TPC pilot – on the bridge of a ship that could do tricky things in hyperspace. She couldn’t risk the secret getting out. Unfortunate, that.
She looked down at her reader, and did curse. She would have to get on Tremdor’s case and see why the 3D Printers hadn’t shipped yet. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.
CHAPTER 18
Venture
Wednesday 04 August
Sean touched his arm, causing Wen to jump. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Playing pirates again?” Sean asked.
“Yes,” he answered, trying a turn. However, the pirate just cut the corner, closing the distance between the ships. And then it loosed missiles, missiles that Wen could not dodge, deflect, or fox. The first two killed his shields and damaged his hyperspace field nodes beyond the ability of the system to support a vessel in hyperspace. The end came quickly after that.
“Why do you keep playing? You never win.”
“Call it a compulsion. Something I just have to keep trying.”
Sean shook his head at the stupidity of some adults. “That’s why I play Cargo. At least I can win there, eventually.” He smiled. “I just made level fourteen.”
“Excellent, Cargo Master,” Wen replied, still trying to think of something else he might try. “I made level six, myself. Tell you what, when you become Venture’s Cargo Master, you can take me on as apprentice.”
Sean considered that for a while. “You’d have to work hard, Wen. You spend too much time playing, instead of learning important stuff.”
“Perhaps I do. Aren’t you going to lunch with the others?”
“Oh, right. Want to come with me?”
Not having any answers to his questions, or any new theories to try, Wen nodded. “Let’s go, Cargo Master. Say, if we eat two desserts each, will that throw off the trim of the ship?”
Sean laughed. “A desert weighs only about one hundred grams, Wen. If you walked from Acceleration Lounge A to Acceleration Lounge B on the other side of the ship, you still wouldn’t throw off the trim by enough to matter.”
“Ah, good. Then we can both eat two desserts.”
“My mother won’t let me.”
Wen let out an exaggerated sigh. “And if I eat two desserts, I might get fat, so I suppose I can’t do that, either.”
They lined up with the others, grabbing a tray and utensils, and then pushing them along the rails, taking what they thought they might like.
“Wen?”
“Yes, Sean.”
“Starting in Level 10, Cargo Handling gets a lot harder. You have to unload the ship, too, not just load it.”
“Should be easier, I’d think,” Wen replied. “Just take the stuff off, and send it out with a workboat.”
“No,” the boy replied. He set his tray down on the table he’d picked. Wen placed his tray opposite Sean’s, and they sat. “See, if the ship goes to Liberty, then New Brittain, and then Manila, and you load all of Liberty’s cargo on one side of the ship, then when you get there, unless you have an equal amount coming on into the same hold, you will throw out the trim. Then you have to move some of New Brittain’s cargo over to balance things. And when you get to New Brittain, you’ll still have the same problem, so you’ll have to move some of Manila’s cargo. It wastes time, and you get a lower score.”
Wen chewed on a carrot. He swallowed. “Then I guess the idea is to even out the load as you take the cargo on board.”
Sean smiled, as if he had a secret that Wen didn’t know. “Yes. But–”
“Oh, no! There’s a ‘but’?”
That caused Sean to laugh. “Yes. But if you already know some of the goods your ship picks up at Liberty, you might not want to even out the load.”
Win popped another small carrot stick into his mouth, and chewed it. The kid had already taken that level and passed – and passed another three levels after that. And the kid had smarts – he’d never seen anyone so young operate like this one did, have the command of language that he did. Given that, it seemed Sean wanted to tell Wen something, and not simply prepare him for the higher levels.
“I can see how that would help. So, the idea is to know what you are going to load, and what you are going to unload before you do either. Thanks for the tip.” And how would Sean answer that?
“Wen, to know how to load the best, you need to know how you’re going to unload.”
“Right. I think I just said that.” He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork.
“So,” Sean said, looking up from his main course, “to know how to escape the pirate, don’t you have to know what the pirate will do before he does it?”
“What?”
“Have you ever played the game from the other side? As the pirate?”
He stopped moving, fork halfway to his mouth.
“Wen? Wen?” a voice penetrated the fog.
He looked up. “Oh, hi, Angela, Ken.”
“May we sit down?”
“Of course.”
“So, young man,” Ritter asked. “What’s under discussion?”
“Cargo,” Wen answered for him, to stop that line right there. “Sean, here, was giving me some tips – good ones. I’ll try that right after I eat.”
Angela laughed “I don’t think so. You have to give a guitar lesson right after lunch.”
He had forgotten about that. His reader hadn’t though, and it would have reminded him. On the other hand, it seemed that Angela knew his schedule better than he did – as usual. But she hadn’t ambushed him lately.
“So I do. And what do you have after lunch?”
“Ken’s going to take me on a workboat run. Part of the training. I get to watch him do everything from a real workboat in real space.” She flashed him a great smile.
“That’s real good, Angela,” he said, but his mind went in other directions. Ritter, according to the gossip he couldn’t avoid, had quite a name as liking the ladies. He gave the pilot a long look.
Ritter held up his hands. “Strictly on the up-and-up, Pilot. Captain assigned me.”
And Bettina Yrden would hardly set Angela up to become one of Ritter’s conquests. At least Wen hoped she wouldn’t. He gave Ritter a warning look, then looked down at his plate. Almost empty. He polished off the pie.
“I have to go, Sean. See you later.”
He had half an hour to do some programming, and then he would play the pirate ... or not. He had that damned lesson to teach.
* * *
Angela wanted to get the meal over with. She almost burst with the excitement that anticipation of a real lesson in a real workboat caused. She almost missed Ritter’s question.
“He’s in an awful hurry, Sean. What tips did you give him?”
“I told him to play the pirate, Ken.”
“Did you? What pirate?” Ritter’s face became a study.
“Oh, he plays this game with a pirate chasing a trade ship. He always plays the trade ship, but he never wins.”
Angela felt that like a blow. She raised her hand to stop Ritter’s enquiry. The pilot ignored her for the moment.
“I don’t recall that game. Is it a new one?”
“I think so,” the boy answered. “I haven’t ever seen anyone else playing it.”
Nothing more got said, eating taking priority. After they had finished, and had put away their dishes, Ritter told Angela, “Let’s make a quick stop at the school.”
Arriving there, Ritter went to one of the consoles, while Angela stood by. She noticed William watching the pair of them, and smiled at him. She really liked William.
“I don’t see it anywhere,” Ritter said. He waved at William, who came over. “Hi, William, what’s this pirate program that Pearson is playing? I ca
n’t find it.”
“You’re not supposed to. Wen asked me to set him up with a scenario he could edit. He’s the only one who has authorization to work on it. His request.”
Ritter stared at him. “Excepting, of course, you. I’d like to see it.”
“Apply to Pearson ... or the captain.”
“I just might do that. Come on, Angela, let’s hurry or we’ll be late, and the captain will deduct points from us.”
As they rushed down the hallways to the workboats in the docking bay, Angela asked, “What was that all about?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Don’t say anything to Wen.”
She looked at him, unsure. He saw that.
“We’ll talk to the captain after we finish this shift. I think she’ll back me up.”
* * *
Bettina Yrden sat at her trade desk, and frowned. “So Pearson has a program. Why do you think it’s a problem? Do you think he’s planning on becoming a pirate, himself?”
“I don’t – same answer to both questions. But if Pearson has found a way to successfully get away from pirates, don’t you think that all pilots should know? And, even if he hasn’t, don’t you think we should share this program amongst all our ships – hell, every ship in the Families – so that we have every pilot working on a solution instead of just one? And maybe something he’s done – even if it won’t work every time, might just help one ship escape?”
“I see your point,” Bettina said.
“And why hasn’t he brought this to anyone else’s attention?”
* * *
Bettina Yrden resented the time taken from her trade desk. She heartily wished that Johannes would return to take his captaincy back from her. However, according to Matt, his own mission on FTL-1 had absolute priority. She hadn’t studied on it enough to know why. Matt had only told her the bare bones, so she would understand what was going on. That rankled a little, but perhaps just as well. If she didn’t know about it, she couldn’t worry about it, either.
“Follow me,” she told William as she walked into the study hall. The children looked up, a little confused. She almost never came, and no one took the instructor away during class. She led William into his small office.
“What is it?”
“I need access to Pilot Pearson’s program.”
William frowned. “I told him that he would have control over who had access.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’m captain of Venture – at least until Johannes returns? My word on this ship is law.”
“No, you don’t need to remind me,” William replied. He leaned back against the wall. “Do I need to remind you that the captain’s ultimate authority, if used over trivial matters results in the crew losing trust in her?”
She laughed harshly, though she thought it a good riposte. “No, William, you don’t. This isn’t a whim. I understand he’s running a program to find a way to escape pirates if one happens to drop in on them unknowingly.”
“That’s what I understand, too.”
“You don’t know?”
“No. I merely gave him control over a scenario, ability to populate it as he would. I surmised this from watching him at times, and from what Sean has said. Pilot Pearson gets so caught up in his ‘game’ that he notices nothing. Occasionally, Sean watches a whole game – thirty to forty-five minutes – without Pearson ever becoming aware that the boy’s standing right next to him.” He shrugged. “It’s only a game.”
Bettina frowned. “No, it’s much more than that. Pirates destroyed his ship. He knows how it happened – I tell you this to inform you that I’m not operating on a whim. I also feel able to tell you this because I know it will go no further. He knows the capabilities of the pirates, because his captain sent him the data before the pirates destroyed Amalgamated 684.”
William came up off the wall. “I thought that they – Wen and Angela – were in the lifeboat.”
“They were. But they didn’t lose consciousness when the lifeboat got holed. Captain Sullivan ordered them away, told them to go dark, sent them data.”
“Why not tell everyone then?” William looked confused.
“I think you know enough for now,” Bettina replied, frustrating him. “If his program – what he has accomplished with it – can save us in a similar environment, I need to know.”
“It can’t.”
She spun around to confront him. “How do you know?”
“From his reaction. He’s tried everything he knows or can think of. He always fails. I don’t think he’s come close to escaping, not even once.”
She sat down at the console in the office. “Get me in. I want to play this game.”
The game came up and, with administrator’s access, she checked the ships. The pirate appeared to be a freighter, armed heavily, and with engines that would tear her to bits were she a real ship. So, at least he had not directly used a USNA Patrol Ship – just its capabilities. Point for the pilot. The trader approximated Amalgamated 684. Venture could accelerate faster than the larger Amalgamated ship. That would make a difference. She chose a Venture class ship from the catalogue and hit ‘begin’.
“Pirates, Captain. Mid-range, closing under burn.”
Bettina went to full thrust, directly away from the pirate. It closed rapidly, came into missile range, and loosed a volley at Venture. No manoeuvre she made allowed her to escape. One by one they struck, smashing her shields, destroying her ability to jump and, finally, destroying her ship.
“He tries dumping cargo, lifeboats, workboats. Nothing works.”
Bettina set it up again, this time using a Venture without cargo, lifeboats or workboats. An empty ship. She got further this time, but still remained ten minutes shy of recharging her jump engines – even with the new upgrades which reduced recharge time.
“Does he save his games?” She’d guess that he would, so that he could critique his moves.
William, sitting at his desk, went into records. “Yes. Would you like to replay his most recent game?”
“Yes.”
She sat back and watched as Wen’s freighter ejected cargo in different directions, at different speeds, in order to create a field through which the pirate would have to fly unless he took off at an angle, increasing the time to catch up. Her eyebrows went up when she saw the lifeboats and workboats lock onto interception courses, with the intent of ramming.
Missiles took out the defenders – hopefully unmanned – before they completed their suicide runs. But the debris field, including the ejected cargo, caused the pirate to take avoiding action, slowing him to a point where the freighter could escape more missiles.
Then the pirates beam came up, pinning the freighter, even as the pirate began to close again.
In horror, even though she knew she watched a simulation, Bettina saw the shields go down, and the attempted jump, which failed due to the beam wreaking havoc with field nodes and symmetry. The freighter went to pieces mid-jump.
“Learn anything important enough to warrant the invasion of Pilot Pearson’s privacy?” William asked as she shut down the program.
Bettina heard no sarcasm, only the question. William never went for sarcasm, one of his more endearing qualities.
“Actually, yes.” She glanced at her chrono, stunned to see that almost three hours had passed. Classes had ended. William must have left and entered the room at least a couple of times since she had begun, and she hadn’t even noticed.
“One: our Pilot Pearson deserves his ranking as First Pilot; two, he has a very inventive mind; three, he is persistent to the point of obsessiveness; and, finally, four: if we run into a similarly equipped pirate, we’ll find ourselves in great difficulty.”
“So, worth it?”
“Yes. Definitely. I’ll want to speak with him, ask him to open the program to other pilots. Perhaps they will be able to think of something he hasn’t.”
“Did you?” William asked.
“No, but I haven�
�t given it much thought. Thank you, William.”
She walked off, pretending a calm she didn’t feel. If that pirate had remained at Earth - African Nations Waypoint-2, it would have taken Venture, and nothing she might have done would have prevented it. Inside, she felt sick. And to think she – along with all other Family ships – had helped fund the governments programs to create the very patrol ships that now preyed on them.
CHAPTER 19
Venture
Friday 06 August
Now, with several passengers on Venture – though the captain had posted no itinerary or even departure date – Angela found her duties as cabin attendant cutting into the studying she had begun. She sighed, but at least no one objected to her gaining some training in fields other than being a glorified maid.
She walked out of Cabin 6 on the Passenger Deck, with the dirty linens. After placing them on the cart, she went to Cabin 7, also occupied.
“Ah, Angela.”
She turned to find Captain Bettina (as she thought of her) walking down the corridor.
“Yes, Captain?”
“I have a job for you, if you don’t mind.”
Mind? Anything to get her out of playing room maid. However, she suspected that it would have nothing to do with piloting.
“We have another passenger coming aboard in about thirty minutes.” Bettina stopped, and pursed her lips. “Well, not really a passenger. This woman – Carol White – won a prize that we had on The Lottery.”
“Lucky her.” And lucky me, Angela thought. She now knew the job. Make up another room. “Just tell me the room number, and I’ll have it made up, Captain.”
“Pardon? Oh, yes. We’ll put her on the Crew Deck. Put her in the suite next to yours. It’s empty.”
Crew Deck? Next to hers?
“Yes, Captain. Um, is she new crew?”
Not With A Whimper: Survivors Page 19