by Tom Clancy
‘What do you mean?’ Matt asked.
‘The producers of this show want it to air all over the world,’ David explained. ‘Since the U.S. is the primary market, the Galactic federation is sort of a funhouse mirror reflection of our government and culture, projected into the future. But look at some of the alien races. The Laragants - taller than we are, beautiful like statues—’
‘Stretched, idealized humans,’ Andy broke in.
‘With lots of wisdom, and taste up the wazoo,’ David finished. ‘Constellation crew members who encounter them often come off looking … well, boorish.’ He glanced at his fiiends. ‘They’re tailor-made to fit in with European self-perceptions.’
‘Hunh!’ Matt said. ‘I guess I never really looked at it before. The Arcturan Co-Prosperity Sphere - that’s kind of self-explanatory.’
David nodded. ‘Their culture is supposed to attract Asians in general, and Japanese in particular. While the Setangis - breakaway colony worlds exploited by the former Laragant Empire - are supposed to appeal to the emergent African states.’
‘That all makes a sort of twisted sense,’ Andy admitted. ‘But what about the Thuriens? Those guys are treacherous, warmongering slimeballs—’
‘They’re xenophobic, totally without conscience in dealing with other races,’ David corrected. ‘Their culture doesn’t believe in individuality - yet worships personal bravery.’
‘They’re the all-purpose villains on the series,’ Matt said.
‘Yet they sometimes seem almost heroic’ David nodded toward the holo-image, where a Thurien guard, protecting his ambassador, took on four Constellation crewmen. The silver-skinned humanoid, his high-cheekboned face absolutely featureless, went into a wild, rolling attack, dropping three of the red-shirted security officers before he himself was shot.
‘I just thought that no-face thing was a cheap trick - to save on actors and make up for the expensive hologram characters that appear in some episodes. All those weird differences came in from the different writers.’ Matt shrugged. ‘You know, if things get boring, throw in the Thuriens.’
‘I still don’t know anybody on Earth who’s like them/ Andy challenged.
‘Then you should talk to Captain Winters/ David replied, mentioning the name of the former Marine officer who served as the Net Force Explorers’ liaison to Net Force. ‘He actually fought them a few years ago.’
‘You mean when he was part of the peacekeeping force in the Balkans?’ Andy said in disbelief.
Matt just stared. ‘The Carpathian Alliance!’
An area with three religions, four languages, two alphabets, and too many national and ethnic groups, the Balkans had been a world trouble spot throughout the last thirty years, and on an occasional basis for centuries. The last time fighting had broken out, the enemies of peace in that region had formed an uneasy alliance, combining a set of ‘-isms’ that most people thought had disappeared with the end of the twentieth century.
The Carpathian Alliance brought together believers in fascism and communism - doctrines that in other times and places had fought wars against one another. Into this ugly brew they had mixed a horrible strand of racism -and under these discredited banners, the Alliance had invaded their ‘inferior’ neighbors.
Their armies had been beaten back, but the Carpathian Alliance’s fighters had been more like gangs of criminals than soldiers. Even after they’d been beaten, they’d continued a ‘war’ of terrorism and assassination. The lands they’d attacked had gathered together into Slobodan Narodny, the Free State. Yet the Carpathian Alliance managed to survive, a loose collection of dictatorships clinging to power in the rugged Balkan Mountains - just waiting for another chance to make trouble.
Andy shook his head in disbelief. ‘Why would anybody bother sucking up to - what? A couple of million wackos?’
‘More like ten million additional viewers,’ David corrected. ‘Besides, what does it hurt to present them as courageous enemies?’
‘It hurts every American boy and girl who died fighting them,’ Mrs Gray suddenly said. She glanced at David. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me about this. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy this show again.’
They watched the rest of the episode in embarrassed silence. Sure enough. Air Pendennis managed to shift the Nimboid ambassador out of the electrical system, into the computers, and finally reconstituted him. The Thuriens turned out not to be behind the assassinations. The culprit was a disaffected ‘artificial person’ servant of the Laragants.
Commander Dominic, Captain Venn’s piratically handsome second in command, managed to subdue the android assassin in a flurry of microgravity martial-arts moves.
‘Stuntman,’ Andy muttered. ‘He lands there without even mussing his hair.’
The Thurien ambassador, He-Who-Leads-In-Conflict-Without-War, saluted Commander Dominic, then turned to Captain Venn. ‘Your people did well to avert catastrophe. Perhaps we should attempt more non-warlike conflicts.’
‘Contests,’ Captain Venn diplomatically amended.
The Thurien leader nodded. ‘Each of the starfaring races represented here has a facility for the training of young astrogators—’
‘The Academy,’ Dominic said.
‘Perhaps a race,’ the Thurien suggested. ‘To teach the coming generation the ways of non-conflict.’
The credits began to float past a planetary disk when they suddenly shifted to one side. Commander Dominic appeared - or rather Lance Snowdon, the actor who portrayed him.
Snowdon had abandoned his Fleet tunic for a rather loud turtleneck sweater. He grinned as the theme music receded. ‘Just a brief word from real life to all Ultimate Frontier fans under eighteen years of age,’ he said. Tinnacle Productions is running a competition for all the young designers in our audience. Create a virtual racing yacht for any of the civilizations in this evening’s episode, and win a chance to participate with a four-person crew in a show about the race of the twenty-sixth century!
‘Technical specs are available at the Pinnacle Productions Net site, subreference Great Race.’
The actor went on with a rap about dates and eligibility, but David didn’t hear that. He was looking from Andy to Matt, who were staring at him expectantly.
‘So?’ Andy asked. ‘Are we going to enter?’
David shook his head. ‘Pretty ambitious, don’t you think,’ he said, ‘for a team whose last project just crashed and died?’
Chapter Three
David was still laughing off the idea of joining the Ultimate Frontier competition when a muted chime filled the room. His brother Tommy hopped up from the floor. ‘Somebody’s calling!’ he announced.
Tommy raced off to the hall and returned a moment later. ‘It’s your friend Leif,’ he told David.
David stepped round to the secondary holo display that served as the family’s communication center. As soon as he came into view, Leif said, ‘I wanted to make sure I had a place on the crew of your racing yacht.’
‘What racing yacht?’ David replied. ‘Matt and Andy were just talking the same dopiness—’
‘Hey, we went on a ride to Mars with you. We even got killed with you.’ Leif gave him a grin. ‘It’s the least you could do.’
David felt a little embarrassed at the belief the guys had in him. ‘I suppose I could take a look at the technical guidelines on their Net site.’
‘Excellent!’ Leif’s grin grew broader. ‘Hollywood, here we come!’
‘Hollywood?’ David echoed.
Leif gave him a sharp look. ‘Weren’t you listening? The winners actually go to Hollywood and appear in the racing episode. We meet the stars of the series’ - his grin became wicked - ‘and all the “Ultimate” alien babes who turn up in each episode.’
David laughed. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. The alien babes are usually reserved for Commander Dominic. And there’s still the problem of beating out everybody else who’ll be designing a ship for the Galactic Federation. Frontie Net sites have pr
obably been discussing this contest for months.’ David had used the slang term for fans of Ultimate Frontier.
‘Fronties?’ Leif snorted. ‘I’m not worried about those get-a-lifes. Just get started on a good design.’ He hesitated for a second. ‘And if you need anything—’
David waved away the delicate offer of financial help. ‘Thanks. I’ll get on the Net as soon as Matt and Andy head home.’
‘Just tell them to get out of there and stop distracting you from important work/ Leif commanded.
David laughed and cut the connection. Then he headed back to the living room to make his announcement. The Net Force Explorers weren’t heading for Mars anymore. Instead, they’d reach for the stars.
The four boys floated in space - cyberspace, this time, visiting David in veeyar. Before them floated the wireframe image of their starship - David’s first draft, as he’d warned them.
Its main hull was a simplified arrow shape, twice as long as it was wide, four planes converging to a needle point. A pair of stubby wings angled down from the top decks, terminating in the familiar dumbbell shapes of the engine pods. A third wing rose up like a dorsal fin from the rear of the arrowhead, carrying another engine. The base of the third wing spread out - housing the ship’s bridge.
‘Nice look,’ Matt commented. ‘Federation ships always go for clean lines.’
‘It’s more streamlined than I’d have expected,’ Leif said.
‘Guilty,’ David admitted. ‘In the vacuum of space, the profile of the ship doesn’t really matter, unless you also have to operate in planetary atmospheres,’ David explained. ‘The race scenario doesn’t call for that, so we can ditch the mass required for insulation and landing gear and so on. It makes us that much faster and more maneuver able.’
‘But that tri-wing structure - nobody’s used that arrangement since the last flatscreen series, back around the turn of the century,’ Andy objected. He gave the others a supercilious stare, holding up a virtual icon that looked like a datascrip. ‘Hey, I did my research. Right here, I’ve got every ship design that ever appeared in all the various series, going back to the beginning.’ He grinned. ‘Even ships that only appeared in the background during planet shots.’
Andy tossed the icon out into space and gave an order. ‘Computer, find the closest referents to the existing design from this collection.’
A quiet voice like a whisper of breeze replied, ‘Processing.’
In a moment, two similar shapes floated alongside David’s design. These were finished renditions, their skins the familiar silver-blue of the Federation fleet.
‘A long-range scout and a priority courier craft.’ Leif’s voice was impressed as he read the specifications that floated beside each. ‘Did you base your design on these?’
David shook his head. ‘When would I have time to do that research, between school and people calling down from New York asking how things were coming along? I developed the basic design through computer analysis of the show’s technical specs. This layout of the propulsion systems and this superstructure for the ship came up as the best if you’re looking for speed and maneuverability.’
He gave the others a hard look. ‘It’s not a case of figuring how to tie a ship onto an engine. It’s a case of making sure the engines can do what they’re supposed to without ripping the ship apart. The structure has to be strong enough to handle the repeated stresses of acceleration and deceleration as well as sudden changes in course^ and the propulsion systems have to be carefully calibrated. I ran some tests and that’s what I came up with.’
Pointing to the wireframe figure, he said, ‘That’s the best configuration for a small-crew, maneuverable ship. The shape makes for cramped quarters, but houses the necessary life-support and hull-stabilization systems. The small size cuts down on mass, so we’re faster. But I’m not cutting corners on life support or hull stabilizers.’ He grinned. ‘Otherwise, we don’t live to win.’
He pointed to the flared housing for the dorsal engine. ‘There are places I’ve sacrificed mass for speed. For example, if we really max out all three of our engines for too long, the stresses might tear the ship apart. On the other hand, I like the built-in redundancy of extra engines - that was how the series started out, before the spacecraft began looking more like flying cities - or garbage dumps.’
David glanced at Andy. ‘Thanks for digging these up. They’ll be a help in determining where the machinery goes aboard the Onrust’
‘Onrust!’ Matt echoed. ‘That doesn’t sound like Federation English.’ He shot a puzzled look toward Leif. ‘Sounds German, or Swedish—’
‘It’s Dutch,’ David said. ‘Translates as restless. But it’s also the name of an interesting exploration ship. Adrian Block built the Onrust while he was wintering on Manhattan Island a few centuries ago. He and his crew used the skiff to explore Long Island Sound - a voyage of more than a hundred miles - to link up with the only other Dutch oceangoing vessel in the area. You see. Block’s original ship, the Tiger^ burnt and sank. If he and his men didn’t catch up with that other boat, they’d have lost their only ride home.’
‘Sort of like us with the Mars lander,’ Andy said, suddenly catching on. ‘We crashed and burned. But by building this baby, we’ll make up for that, right?’
‘I hope so,’ Matt said. ‘You and David know more about this stuff than I do. If you needed to simulate a car or a plane, though …’
‘Don’t distract our engineering geniuses,’ Leif warned. ‘We want this thing to be ready before Pinnacle Productions’ cutoff date.’
‘We’ll be ready,’ David assured him. ‘From here on, it’s just a case of calibration.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll tell you one thing - this make-believe technology is a lot easier to handle than the real stuff we were trying. According to the Ultimate Frontier specs, computers will project courses, balance systems, even interface between humans and the controls. I’ve already gone through the technical immersion the production company provided.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s a lot easier than what we went through for the Mars voyage.’
‘Something on your mind, son?’ Magnus Anderson asked a week or so later, looking across the breakfast table. ‘You look about a million miles away.’
‘Make that a few light-years/ Leif admitted, glancing from his father to his mother. Natalya Anderson looked slim and elegant, eating some sort of yogurt-and-barley concoction. Magnus, on the other hand, liked to have what he called ‘real food’ in the morning - in this case, eggs and bacon. Leif, not much of a breakfast eater, just had an English muffin.
‘I just went through the technical immersion for my crew position in the Great Race,’ Leif explained.
‘That’s right,’ his father said. ‘The first heats, or tryouts, whatever you call them, must be coming up soon.’
Leif nodded. ‘And we’re all ready to go - at least I’ll be, as soon as all the new stuff crammed into my skull settles in.’
‘You’re sure?’ his mother said worriedly.
Magnus Anderson shook his head. ‘Natalya, deep immersion is not brainwashing, whatever your dancer friends think. It’s more like sleep-learning.’
‘We learned every step while we were wide awake,’ the former ballerina said, repeating something Leif and his father heard every time they took the learning shortcut of immersion. ‘And we practiced them until they were a part of us, right down in the muscle memory.’
‘Oh, we’ll be practicing on our ship, too,’ Leif quickly said. ‘What I got last night was a good theoretical knowledge of how a starship works - at least how one works on Ultimate Frontier’
He grinned. ‘I still have to find out how that shapes up with the practical experience of driving our little racer.’
His father shook his head again. ‘This virtuality business has gone in directions I couldn’t even have imagined when the technology first came out.’ He hesitated for a second. ‘If you and your friends need any technical assistance, just call my office.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ Leif was touched by his father’s offer.
His mother just laughed. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And remember, Andersons are expected to come in first.’
The crew members of the Onrust cut their veeyar links in grim silence at the end of the race. Leif immediately accessed the system at Anderson Investment Multinational and arranged a conference call. Seconds later, holo-images of David, Matt, and Andy glared out of the air over his parents’ console.
‘Second!’ Andy burst out, fuming. ‘We could have been first, if you hadn’t let that guy muscle his way in front of us.’
‘That guy brought a whole new meaning to the phrase “a crash course in piloting,” ‘ Matt said sourly. ‘He was willing to risk a collision that would have taken us both out of the competition.’
‘We could have jockeyed around them if we had to.’ David’s face was calm, his eyes glancing at something off to the side. ‘The official standings were just posted. Our times still give us a place in the quarterfinals.’
‘As a wild card,’ Andy sulked.
‘More like a dark horse,’ Leif suggested. ‘The other racers still don’t know every trick we’ve got up our sleeves. But we’ve learned a lot. For instance, those bozos who cut us off - that wasn’t a kamikaze stunt. It was bad ship handling. I was checking the readings from their engines The engineer lost control of the drives - he was supposed to boot both of them, but only one cut in, making them swerve. We now know to stay away from them.’
‘Let ‘em crash into somebody else next time,’ Andy quickly agreed.
‘We’ll just stay ahead of them - and anyone else.’ David’s voice was quiets but there was a trace of steel in it.
Leif grinned. You don’t fool me with that cool act. He thought. Coming in second has you as riled as Andy, He shrugged philosophically. If it had to happen, this was the best time - when it didn’t count all that much.
But there were still three elimination rounds to get through. From this point on^ it had to be number one all the way …