by Tom Clancy
‘We’re still ahead of them - don’t blow it now!’ Matt said from his position as scanning officer.
The main viewscreen was split to show the course ahead and the other racers behind them. But Leif wasn’t about to shift his attention to see how they were doing. He had his hands - and his brains - full, monitoring the bridge’s engineering station.
It was easier than trying to land on Mars. The computers did a lot of the work, like maintaining the artificial gravity. But so much of the race environment was chaotic and unpredictable, it still required a human touch to balance the acceleration of three engines, keep the ship’s structure stable^ and make the split-second course adjustments for maximum speed. David had sliced the soy protein mighty fine with his final design. They were flying a gnat of a ship with engines meant to propel a patrol frigate with a crew of fifty.
The bridge of the Onrust was considerably more spacious than the Mars lander, although it would have fit in the mythical captain’s bathroom that they never saw aboard the Constellation.
Matt and Andy sat at adjoining consoles facing the viewscreen. David’s command chair nearly touched Leif’s engineering terminal.
At least they didn’t have to wear space suits to operate this sucker.
‘Leif!’ Andy called. ‘We’re coming up on the last course marker. It all depends on how fast we can make this final turn. Can you give me any more power?’
Leif looked worriedly at his displays. ‘Hull stabilization is maxed out. I can’t—’
‘The traditional response is, “It’s gonna blow,”’ Andy interrupted.
‘Try diverting the power from life support,’ David said.
‘We’ll be running in the red - the danger zone,’ Leif warned.
David examined the view ahead. ‘There’s a planet just beyond the marker. Suppose we used their gravity well for a slingshot effect?’
Andy recalculated his course. ‘It can be done, but we’ll end up grazing the planet’s atmosphere.’
David leaned back in his seat - but Leif saw his fingers were clenched on the arms. ‘We can do that.’
I hope we can, Leif thought.
The space-buoy marking the course for this elimination round came up with fi:ightening speed. Then they were past and going into their wild turn. The maneuver was more than the artificial gravity could compensate for. Everyone clung to their stations as they were jostled by a force that made the deck seem to heel over at a dangerous angle.
In the viewscreen, the planet swelled like a big, hungry face.
Leif tore his eyes away to keep checking his readouts. Hull temperature - rising fast. Stabilizing shields - threatening failure. If they gave out, the ship would be torn to bits in the planet’s upper atmosphere.
It’ll make a heck of a meteor shower, he thought. I wonder if this place is supposed to be inhabited. If so, the crew of the Onrust might expect a reprimand for pulling this stunt.
He kept his thoughts to himself, merely reporting the growing forces on the ship’s hull.
And then, miraculously, they were past, in open space, the dangerous stresses fading away.
Leif let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
‘Hey, David?’ he said. ‘Is it me, or is it getting stuffy in here?’
‘Re-energize life support,’ David said, his attention fully on the viewscreen, which showed their pursuers - the other racers - coming up on the buoy. ‘If they can cut the turn finer than we did,’ he muttered, ‘we’ve lost.’
The leader of the pack had the brutal lines of a Thurien sword-ship rather than those of a Federation Fleet vessel.
Call it a knife-ship, Leif corrected himself. Most of its length was ‘handle’ - a single, grossly overpowered hyper-engine that gave them terrifying speed on the straightaways. Fortunately, it didn’t take turns easily.
The sword-ship’s captain now gambled on a tricky end-for-end turn as he flashed past the course marker.
It would have won him the race - if his engine hadn’t blown.
The viewscreen suddenly darkened, protecting the eyes of the Onrust’s crew from the sudden flare of energy. What had been a ship was now a cloud of white-hot plasma, a miniature sun spreading across the courses of the other racers. They scrambled to avoid the unexpected obstacle.
Leif switched his attention to the rearview screen. The marker buoy was behind them now, going up in a smaller flash as the plasma cloud engulfed it. Several ships weren’t going to be able to avoid the cloud altogether -
More flashes appeared as other racers suffered catastrophic failures. Those who managed to avoid the disaster couldn’t make their turns after their emergency course diversions.
By the time the remaining competitors reorganized themselves, the Onrust was halfway through the final straightaway to the finish line.
David surprised Leif by ordering him to throttle back on the hyper-engines.
‘No need to give away any more of our capabilities than we have to/ their captain said. Tor all we know^ contestants representing the other races could be checking us out in veeyar.’ His white teeth appeared in a fierce grin. ‘Let them think that last maneuver hurt us. We might be able to surprise them in the real race.’
The real race. It took a second for David’s words to sink in as Leif followed his orders. A moment later, they were surrounded by the gentle flow of a million-mile-long ionization field.
That was the finish line! They’d won!
Andy whooped in triumph. Matt yelled, ‘All right!’
David simply sat very still in the command seat of the ship he’d designed.
They came to a stop, and the viewscreen’s image shifted. Lon Corben, the Pinnacle Productions publicity exec who’d been running the contestant search, smiled out at them. During the briefing for the mock race, he’d appeared in the uniform of a Federation Fleet Admiral. But now he was all business, wearing the ‘Californian casual’ business outfit of the entertainment industries.
Corben’s open-necked shirt was a dazzling white - real linen from the looks of it, Leif thought. It must have cost a fortune. The executive’s brocade vest had the sheen of real silk as well. In a world where more and more agriculture had to be devoted to food production, organic fibers were the ultimate status symbol.
‘Congratulations to the crew of the—’ Corben’s eyes flicked to an off-image display. ‘Onrust. I’m pleased to announce that you’ve won the final elimination round for Galactic Federation contestants, and will represent the Federation in the upcoming Great Race.’
He gave the Net Force Explorers a wide, if synthetic, smile. The guy’s slick, Leif thought. But then, most executive types were.
‘My assistant will be in touch with you all regarding schedules and accommodations for the actual race. Again, my congratulations on a job very well done.’
Corben cut his connection - and so did the Net Force Explorers. They dropped out of veeyar - and into the computer suite of the Anderson’s Washington apartment. Leif had come down to D.C. for the elimination trials. His father had offered the use of his cutting-edge systems for their command post. Leif could just as easy have telecom-muted in on veeyar, but he thought there was a morale advantage to actually being all together.
Maybe that was just an illusion, but it seemed to have paid off.
Andy hopped out of his computer-link couch. ‘We did it! We’re on our way to California! Land of sun, beach-babes—’
‘Smog, and earthquakes,’ David finished. ‘Those Pacific Coast simulations you like so much aren’t exactly like the real thing.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Matt said with a laugh. ‘In the sims, Andy always gets a tan.’
A blush crept across Andy’s freckled cheeks. ‘Come on, guys. Veeyar is the closest I’ve ever come to California. For any of us … except Leif.’
Now it was Leif’s turn to be embarrassed. That’s mcy the rich kid, he thought.
‘California? It’s easy,’ he said. ‘Just think of it as a we
ird, alien world … with the capital of weirdness located in Hollywood.’
The boys laughed.
‘I think Dad ordered some supplies for the fridge,’ Leif went on. ‘Just in case we had reason for a celebration.’
‘That’s just what we should do,’ David said.
‘You got it!’ Andy chimed in. He threw an arm around Matt and David’s shoulders. ‘We’re boldly going to Planet California!’
Chapter Four
The limo was about middle-of-the-line, Leif estimated. On business junkets with his father, he’d seen better, he’d seen worse. He knew his friends probably hadn’t seen anything like it, except in a sim.
David, Matt, and Andy sat with their eyes glued to the tinted windows, taking in the real southern California landscape. Summertime especially underlined the area’s never-ending battle between humans and nature. Where there was money, there was water, greenery … and the gardeners to tend it. Without the intervention of human taste and plumbing, however, the land quickly reverted to its true state - arid semi-desert.
He didn’t point this out to the others - why ruin the trip of their lives?
Leif and his friends weren’t exactly suffering from jet lag, but he felt a certain travel fatigue. They’d traveled in the cramped coach seats on a regular jet instead of a space-plane. With the growth in veeyar, many people took virtual vacations these days - featuring all the fun of real travel, without the bugs, sunburns, cramped plane seats, flight delays, cancellations, and other unfortunate details that could make a real-world trip a less than perfect experience. Tourism and travel in coach class had suffered as a result - many of the old perks for the masses had disappeared as people had abandoned the real world of travel for the virtual life. Travel in first class was different -you could always get luxury if you were prepared to pay for it. But this trip was on the studio’s nickel^ and coach was the order of the day. Leif was tired and achy after spending hours jammed into an uncomfortable seat. He was ready for a hot shower and a chance to sack out as soon as he got into his hotel room.
Instead, they were going directly to the offices of Pinnacle Productions for more publicity. The limo pulled up in front of the office buildings where a swarm of newspeople awaited the press conference.
‘Just like an old-time awards show,’ Leif murmured as they stepped out.
Nobody much bothered with them, except for a couple of reporters who asked the boys about their chances in the upcoming race.
David shrugged. ‘Can’t tell you our chances until I see how the competition shapes up.’ A public-relations flunky went on about how excited everyone felt about coming to California. Leif was glad he’d remembered to bring sunglasses.
Another limo pulled up, and the boys were immediately forgotten as more famous prey for the reporters emerged. Nils Olsen, the actor who played Captain Venn, faced the cameras and recorders, a quick, almost shy smile flitting across his chiseled, regular features. In jeans and an open-necked sweater, he seemed very different from the stern, commanding figure in the fitted tunic of a Federation Fleet Captain.
‘Captain! Are you rooting for any particular team?’
Another fleeting smile appeared on his face. ‘Rooting? I haven’t even met them yet.’ His English was perfect American standard, with the faintest lilt of a Swedish accent.
The schools over there do really well with their foreign languagesy Leif thought.
Olsen went on. ‘But since you asked for the captain’s reaction, of course he’d cheer for the Galactic federation’s team.’
Huh, Leif thought. He almost sounds a bit nervous when he’s not working from a script.
‘Is it true that you’re afraid of being typecast as Captain Venn? That your agent is fielding offers from other producers to do feature-length holos?’ another reporter asked.
Leif braced himself for the patented Captain Venn thunderous reply. Instead, Nils Olsen merely rolled his eyes and shrugged. ‘I think that’s a “no comment” sort of question. Any other answer would end up getting me in trouble somehow.’
He abruptly headed down the narrow aisle between the media types, and the boys were shepherded after him. They entered the building and headed down halls to a large auditorium, still called a ‘screening room’ although flatscreen projection had been a dead technology for almost twenty years.
A holographic image of the Ultimate Frontier logo floated over the stage, where a good-sized crowd of people were already gathered.
Nils Olsen walked over to shake hands with a short, heavyset man with a full beard and long hair. Beside him was a familiar face.
‘Lance Snowdon,’ Matt muttered as they came closer. ‘I hope we get some pictures with him. Catie would croak if she thought we were hanging around with Commander Dominic!’
Catie Murray was another Net Force Explorer, a girl who had turned down David’s invitation to crew the Mars expedition - and so had lost out on the Ultimate Frontier competition. Her refusal had led to Leif joining the crew.
The publicity person who’d met them at the airport brought the boys up to the heavyset bearded man. ‘Mr Wallenstein, this is the group from Washington - the Galactic Federation’s entry in the Great Race!’
Leif recognized the name he’d seen in the credits after every episode. Milos Wallenstein was the associate producer and script supervisor for Ultimate Frontier^ the day-to-day head of things on the set. He looked like a throwback to an earlier style of Hollywood honcho in his neon-green blazer and black silk shirt.
‘Welcome aboard,’ he said in a raspy voice. ‘Or maybe I should leave that to the captain. I can promise you an interesting couple of weeks, and maybe even some fun in between shooting the race sequences. I know I speak for all of the Ultimate Frontier cast and crew in greeting you.’ The producer glanced over at Lance Snowdon. ‘But I’m sure you’d be happier to meet some of the more famous faces.’
Snowdon came over to shake hands, an easy grin on his handsome face. With his cloud of curly hair and Vandyke beard, all he needed was a gold hoop earring to look like a pirate.
Matt eagerly stepped forward to shake hands, then blinked in astonishment. The show’s action hero was barely taller than he was!
‘I’m sure you guys will give this race everything you’ve got,’ Snowdon said heartily. ‘After all, the whole world is watching - or maybe I should say, the whole universe.’
‘Thanks,’ David said as he took the actor’s hand. ‘That makes us feel much better.’
His comeback was quick, but somehow, it just seemed to bounce off Snowdon’s personality.
What is it about some people, Leif wondered, that just standing beside them makes you look like a nerd?
There was David, in his best clothes, his prized laptop computer slung over his shoulder … and Snowdon made him look like he’d just fallen off the turnip truck from Nowheresville.
Leif was sure he didn’t look any better.
Ahy the magic of Hollywood^ he thought.
As the last of the boys shook hands with Lance Snowdon, Wallenstein brought over Nils Olsen. The captain’s words were brief and to the point. ‘Good luck.’ At least his now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t smile seemed genuine.
While Olsen was shaking hands, a petite Asian woman came over and gave him a big smooch. ‘I thought you weren’t going to show up. Cap!’ she said irreverently.
‘I came in after the last racers here,’ Olsen replied, gesturing to Leif and the others.
‘Yu-Ying Cheang,’ she introduced herself with a smile.
David gawked. ‘C-Commander Konn?’ he stuttered.
The woman bared her teeth in a laughing grimace and said in a guttural voice, ‘Recognize me now. Soft Meat?’
That was the voice of Konn, but Leif’s mental picture of the Constellation Drakieran combat commander was at least a head taller - and covered in armored scales.
Luckily, Ms Cheang seemed to take the boys’ reaction in stride. ‘See, Nils? You worry about being typecast as a star-cruis
er captain. But me? Nobody even knows what I look like under all that makeup and prosthetic equipment.’
Olsen smiled down at his costar. ‘Yu-Ying is a martial arts champion who does all her own stunts.’
‘Not anymore,’ Yu-Ying interrupted. ‘About a month ago, I fell and broke my tail.’
Andy, who had just been taking in all the Hollywood by-play, looked flustered. ‘You seem—’ he began, looking behind the actress.
Yu-Ying let off a loud crack of laughter. ‘Commander Konn’s tail!’ The dragonlike alien warrior had an armored, prehensile tail that was as dangerous as another arm in hand-to-hand combat.
‘I broke the prosthetic tail they glue onto my costume for the fighting sequences,’ she explained. ‘Now it won’t work, which is why they brought in Pretty-boy Dominic to mix it up in that diplomatic-zoo episode.’
The young woman’s eyes were wicked as she added, ‘Personally, I got off with just a couple of bruises in a place I don’t normally show in public’
Olsen chuckled, taking in the Net Force Explorers’ glazed expressions. ‘I hope you’re not too horrified to discover that the Federation Fleet’s heroes have such feet of clay,’ he said.
‘Or such checkered pasts,’ a white-haired woman said, coming up to them. ‘At least Yu-Ying appears on screen, even if it’s under a ton of goop. I only come on as a voice.’
‘Of course,’ Leif said. ‘You’re Rebecca Lome, the voice of Soma.’ Fans loved the Nimboid energy-being who served as the Constellation’s resident Contact Officer and ambassador, but the character was actually a hologram. Here was the woman whose voice gave the image its personality and charm. Rebecca Lome was a handsome older woman wearing a classic white linen suit.
‘Is it a problem, acting with a hologram?’ Matt asked.
Qlsen smiled. ‘More a matter of timing things correctly. The image is preprogrammed^ so you have to be ready to react to its movements.’
‘And not walk into it - as some captains have been known to do,’ Yu-Ying joked.