by M. D. Cooper
Rhys shook his head sorrowfully. “That’ll be the day….”
HAPPY TUESDAY
STELLAR DATE: 05.22.3192 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Dock D1, ESS Avon Vale
REGION: C-47 Habitat, Proxima Centauri
The view that greeted Terrance as he strode from the D1 dock’s wide-open hatch was one of controlled chaos. The dock was teeming with people, cargo, and worker-bots—all funneling their way from the massive, three-hundred-meter clear space into the oversized arch that led to the umbilical attached to the Avon Vale.
He knew that the other end of the umbilical terminated at one of the two large bays, situated midway down the three-kilometer length of the vessel. The bays housed both cargo and shuttles, and was as deep—and twice as wide—as the dock was long.
Yet still, the space somehow managed to feel crowded. Pallets stacked as high as the arch would allow floated past him. People scurried around him by the hundreds, finishing last-minute preparations in one form or another, or hurrying off to secure cargo prior to launch.
I should have secured D2 as well, Terrance thought as he squeezed past a small cluster of people who had paused at the midway point of the umbilical, forcing the flow of traffic to detour around. Surely the bay’s wide enough to accommodate two umbilicals. His mental reprimand ended in an aggravated sigh as he pushed his way through into the dock proper and wove through the bustling crowd.
In all, the Avon Vale would be carrying around twenty-five hundred humans and almost four hundred AIs to Tau Ceti. There were over twelve hundred paying customers along for the ride, Proxans who had opted to relocate. Some saw it as a business opportunity; for others, it was a change of scenery, from habitat-living to a terraformed planet orbiting a G-type main sequence star. Given that this ship would be the first to transit the interstellar medium utilizing true stasis, the opportunity to simply fall asleep and in the next breath, awaken to find oneself instantly transported thirteen light years away was irresistible to many.
Of the remaining seventeen hundred souls, about five hundred were on extended loan from the El Dorado Space Force back in Alpha Centauri; the rest were Enfield employees. And then there were the ten that comprised Phantom Blade.
Terrance wove his way through the crowd, his destination the maglev that stretched the length of the ship’s center core. The line ran from the small dock near the ship’s bow all the way down through the center of the ship’s habitat ring. It continued into the crew and command sections of the ship—a series of seven stacked decks that accommodated crew and passenger quarters, plus the levels that housed the ship’s bridge and engineering at its aft end.
He nodded as he passed various Enfield and ESF crew members. Some of them he knew, most of them he didn’t. To the people bustling around him, Terrance represented the corporation backing this venture, and a fair number of people who caught his eye nodded respectfully as they made their way to their various destinations.
Once the ship reached cruising speed the decks would detach from either side, rotate ninety degrees, and then reattach themselves to the central core. The core would then begin to spin, providing a 0.3g to 0.5g environment for the crew, depending on which deck they were on. These decks, as well as the amidships cargo bays and the habitat ring, were the only sections of the three-kilometer-long ship that would simulate gravity during their five-decade journey.
He could see the maglev approaching the platform as he arrived, and he nodded amiably at two passengers disembarking as he climbed aboard. The trip itself would only last a minute or so, which was why there were very few seats. Once aboard, a passenger could grab a hanging loop or a handrail, and brace himself as the car took off. One hand wrapped around a loop, Terrance pinged Shannon as the maglev sped him to his destination.
There was a brief pause, and then he heard her tart rejoinder,
The instant that thought left his mind, he knew Shannon wasn’t going to let it go without comment. He grinned as peals of laughter came across the connection, and Shannon’s eyes glinted with a wicked humor.
He shook his head at her.
Shannon’s brow raised once again, this time in skepticism.
He shook his head, a genuine smile on his lips, as he exited the maglev. Shannon was the most emotive AI he’d ever met, and he had no idea why the engineer who was so fond of emulating physical human gestures had never opted for a humanoid frame of her own to try them out.
Entering Engineering, he nodded to three Enfield employees that looked up at him.
“Sir,” they murmured as he walked by.
Rounding a corner, he came upon Jonesy giving last-minute instructions to two of the mechanics. His entrance must have caught the man's eye, for Jonesy glanced up briefly and gave Terrance a nod.
“Sirs,” he said absently, and then his eyes widened, and he hastily added, “I meant ‘sir’. Sorry, I’m used to your presence counting as two people.”
Terrance smiled at his reference to the AI no longer embedded inside his skull, and made a dismissive gesture. “No worries, Jonesy.” He waited patiently for the other man to finish his instructions to the mechanics.
As the workers split off to their various duties, Jonesy turned back to eye his employer. “What can I help you with, sir?”
“I know you're busy down here, and I don't want to take up any of your time.” Terrance gave the man a smile. “I'm just here to check on the materials we'll need to manufacture the Matchbox Fusion Reactors, if you’d just point me in the right direction.”
“Not a problem, sir.” Jonesy turned and led Terrance down a passageway to a storage area filled from bulkhead to bulkhead with crated materials.
“Now, let’s see here,” Jonesy murmured, absently scratching the side of his head and unseating the cap he habitually wore, which had the ESF logo emblazoned across its bill. He caught it just as it began to topple, and reseated it atop his head in a practiced motion as he tapped on the hyfilm he'd been carrying around. Inclining his head to the right, he said, “Looks like it’s all two rows back, on that end.”
Terrance nodded amiably. “Thanks, Jonesy.”
“No problem, sir. Happy to help.” The engineering assistant turned to leave, and Terrance stopped him with a lifted hand.
“I heard you plan to remain out of stasis for the better part of the journey,” Terrance said, his voice lifting in query.
Jonesy nodded, a look
of enthusiasm on his face. “Indeed I am. I asked Shannon if she would take on an apprentice.” The man flashed another brilliant grin. “By the time you folks awaken, I'll be a newly-minted engineer. At least, that's the plan.”
Terrance shook his head with a smile. “Hardly newly-minted. If you’re truly planning to remain out of stasis for the entire trip, you’ll be well-seasoned by the time we dock at Ring Galene.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “And much older, at that. Planning on a rejuv treatment or two during the voyage?”
“Mmm-hmm. Already asked Marta to slot me in for one in twenty years, and another one again right before we arrive.” He grinned suddenly. “Can’t have the boss looking younger than his elders when we get there.”
Terrance barked a laugh and slapped Jonesy on the shoulder. “You’ll do all right. Shannon's a great teacher; you’ll make a fine engineer.”
“Damn straight, sir.” Jonesy winked and then ducked through the doorway, no doubt headed back to stevedore the department into launch condition.
As the man left, Terrance walked over to the crates Jonesy had indicated and exchanged tokens with the security seal the manufacturer had placed on the cartons' contents. Peering down into the first one, he scanned the shipment, noting that, as Shannon had indicated, everything was indeed in order.
Accessing the duty roster, he eyed the planned schedule for the upcoming weeks. He nodded in satisfaction when he saw that Shannon's backoff table for buoy production gave them plenty of time to make each deployment. He resealed the carton just as a voice sounded behind him.
“Heard you were down here,” Calista said.
He grinned, turning to face his chief pilot. “Shannon ratted me out, did she?”
Calista's dark eyes twinkled, and as she shook her head at him, the overhead illumination caught glints of red in the depths of her dark hair. “No, but after this many years of working with you, I knew you wouldn't be able to leave without seeing for yourself that we had everything we needed.” She smiled slightly at him, one hand resting on a nearby crate.
He cracked a laugh at her droll tone. “Everything set for tomorrow's departure?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Yes, although it’s odd how crowded the ship feels, given we're only at ten percent of our maximum capacity,” she admitted with a wry look.
He smiled slightly. “I know what you mean. I was thinking the same thing earlier,” he admitted with a shake of his head, and then pushed away from the cargo. “Was there a reason I bumped into you down here, or was this just happenstance?”
She shook her head. “Shannon and I just finished going over the crew’s stasis rotation for manned shifts during the journey.” At Terrance’s raised brow, she continued. “We’ll have a dozen or so humans awake at any given time, plus the AIs not embedded.”
She tilted her head enquiringly. “Do you plan to do another embed once we’re closer to our destination?”
Terrance nodded. “I plan to stay awake through the first buoy deployment, and then I’ll go into stasis until midpoint. That’ll be a brief check-in—just a few weeks that time—and then I’ll go back under until we’re a year out from Tau Ceti.” He tapped his forehead. “I was thinking of asking Kodi if he might like to squeeze himself inside this hard head at that point.”
Calista nodded as he mentioned the ESF soldier on loan to Phantom Blade for the duration.
“Speaking of stasis,” she began, “I’m glad we’ll have a rotation of humans and AIs awake at all times to keep an eagle eye on those stasis pods to ensure nothing goes wrong.”
She held up her hands to preclude any protests from her boss. “I know Enfield Dynamics tested them for several years prior to them being approved for sentient use, but I, for one, feel a lot more comfortable knowing we’ll have a small army of people who have our backs while we’re out.”
Terrance gave a slight half-shrug. “As I understand it, if they fail, the worst that can happen is we wake up early and end up driving each other crazy within the confines of the ship for the rest of the trip.” He smirked as a thought occurred to him. “And Marta and her team would have their hands full with rejuv treatments.”
Calista laughed aloud at that. “Well, Shannon knows where to find us if she needs a meat-suit or two to do the heavy lifting at any point along the way.” She winked and crooked a finger his way as she turned toward the main corridor.
“Got time for one more thing?”
“Ahhhh, and now we learn the real reason you hunted me down.”
She threw a wicked smile over her shoulder. “Mmm-hmmm. You, sir, have something awaiting you. Or, rather, someone….”
Terrance groaned, burying his head in his palms. “Is the someone about half a meter tall, four-footed, and furry?”
“Yep.”
He sighed. “Beck.”
“Yep.” Calista tilted her head as he matched her stride, and they continued to the main lift. “Going to let the little fella come along for the ride?”
Terrance was silent a moment, weighing the odds. “He’s a cute little guy, and when he matures, he’s going to be a stunning creature. Might make a nice icebreaker when we connect with our Tau Ceti friends.” He shot Calista an assessing look. “I may come to regret it, but yes, let’s go greet our newest passenger.”
* * * * *
The Avon Vale was finally loaded.
All equipment, supplies, passengers, and personnel were in their assigned spots. Jason and Calista were strapped into their respective cradles on the ship’s bridge, and Terrance—the owner and ostensible financial backer of the operation—was seated at the backup scan station.
Jason couldn’t suppress the thrill of anticipation that ran through him as the moment of departure arrived. No matter how many flights through the black I take, the moment you leave is still a rush, he thought with an inward smile. Turning to Calista, he swept a grand gesture toward the swath of black displayed on the bridge’s forward holowall and, with a seated bow, declared, “Where to, oh captain, my captain?”
Terrance threw his head back with a shout of laughter. “Glad to see that promotion hasn’t gone to your head or anything,” he said, just as Shannon’s projection snapped into place beside him.
Jason had figured his comment would draw out the little engineer. He sent her a smirk as she deliberately shifted her image into a stance that was hipshot and arms crossed, rife with disapproval.
“Really, Jason. Like you don’t know where we’re going.” Her voice fairly dripped with disdain, and his smirk turned into a full-on grin.
“Seriously, Shannon, if you’re going to give me that kind of attitude, it needs to be from a real bod.”
She drew back, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Eww. Why is everyone trying to get me into a body today? When you have a body, you have to deal with fluids.”
“Only organic ones, and even then, you could mod yourself so that you wouldn’t have to deal with them if you didn’t want to.”
“I’m not just talking about bodily fluids,” she said in a prim tone. “You people end up with all sorts of fluids on you, too. And don’t pretend you don’t. I saw what you looked like, Jason Andrews, when you got back from that vehicle-pull event thingy you went to down on El Dorado.”
“Tractor pull,” he corrected with a smile. “Yeah, that was a bit messy,” he admitted. “But you know the folks down on El Dorado are a bit odd. I think it’s safe to say you won’t have to worry about getting mud slung all over you any time soon.”
Calista cleared her throat and pointed her head at the front holowall. “Anyone interested in actually leaving this habitat today?”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am, Captain Rhinehart, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes at him as he settled forward and focused on the three images on the display. The first showed nearspace around Chinquapin, the planet the C-47 Habitat orbited. Another displayed the view from the ship, where the umbilicals had been retracted, and the docking clamps would be released.
> The third view was a map fed to them from Chinquapin’s Space Situation Awareness services. The SSA feed traced the orbital paths of every object in nearspace around the C-47 Habitat. Icons flashed the idents of nearby traffic and continuously updated.
The SSA presented the Avon Vale’s projected cone of departure as a pathway that was currently painted red, which told Jason that the feed’s Collision On Launch Assessment indicator had them holding in a ‘COLA Blackout’. As he watched, the red slowly retreated, and he knew their launch window would shortly turn green, showing clear traffic lanes ahead.
Over the bridge net, Jason heard the Chinquapin STC controller hail the ship with the Avon Vale’s ident number.
He dropped his gaze from the SSA display just as their launch window turned green and refocused his attention on his pilot’s holo as the controller continued,
Jason repeated the instructions back to the controller, and when he was done, murmured, “Here we go, folks,” just as the station’s clamps let go.
On the holo, the view of the dock receded as the ship fell away from the rotating dock. Those aboard experienced a floating sensation as they exchanged the dock’s apparent 0.5g of gravity for the near-zero g of the ship under light maneuvering thrust.
The holotank displayed the shift in the starscape ahead of them as Jason eased the ship onto the green line of their outbound trajectory, as well as the receding habitat from its rear cameras.
Once the ship was past the demarcation line, he’d be given clearance by STC to engage the MFRs, and they would experience a full 1g as the ship began boosting for the heliopause. For now, Jason brought the MFRs online, ready to engage when given the go-ahead.
The ship moved past a ring of stationary satellites, and then pulled abreast of a floating refueling station that was ringed with warning holos. Off to their starboard side, they could see one of several repair installations, its spider-like web of spires reaching out from its core like a spiny, spaceborne sea urchin.