Weight of Gravity

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  A throat cleared, and Richard stuck in his head. “Captain, I think the kids have seen enough for the time being. Let’s allow our professors to take it from here.”

  Startled, Sam nodded and proceeded to climb out. “I brought homework. It’s a schematic of the bridge with explanations of what everything does.”

  Grabbing an elbow to help out the Terran, Richard added, “In two weeks, you’ll receive a revised course schedule that will include starship navigation and simulator labs. By then, you will have committed this material to memory.”

  A heavy manual landed in Deane’s hands. He and Garrett stared at it as if it were a live snake.

  Garrett whispered, “He’s got to be joking.”

  ***

  Returning to what was becoming their favorite hangout, Garrett and Deane ordered sodas and snacks. “This stuff looks impossible,” moaned Garrett. He eyed the heavy manual in front of them.

  “I imagined only the glory of flying a spaceship. I didn’t realize we would be required to understand complicated math calculations,” Deane muttered.

  “I’m finding the math interesting.” Garrett thumbed through a few pages.

  “I’m finding it impossible.” Deane scowled.

  Just then, a body whipped in and plopped down on the seat next to Garrett. The newcomer was female, a petite blonde with brilliant blue eyes and a smile to match.

  “Hi guys, my name’s Jet, and I want to be a part of your crew. When Terrible Thompson assigns positions later today in class, pick me. I’m smart,” she leaned forward with a coquettish smile, “easy on the eyes, and willing to learn.”

  Deane cast a glance at Garrett. “And, oh, so humble,” he commented.

  “My one great weakness, I’ll admit.” Jet signaled for a drink and gave them another bright smile. “I’ve been watching you two and you’re both smart and ambitious. Also, I’m guessing you come as a set.”

  “That we do.” Leaning on an elbow, Deane pushed right up next to her face. He noticed the pert nose and a complexion that looked like cream with a dollop of coffee poured into it. “But if you're looking for fun and games, uou better move along."

  Jet tossed her head, causing her blonde curls to bounce. “I’m not interested in pretty boys who just want to play games. With the ratio of males to females around here, they’re easy enough to find. I’m interested in what’s under the hood and a guy’s performance record.”

  “We’re still talking about coursework, aren’t we?” Deane drawled.

  Ignoring his jibe, she kept on. “I’ve noticed that you two have brains and appear to want what I want … which is to be selected as one of the crew on a real spaceship, not to be just some shuttle jockey servicing one of the stations. Do you want that as badly as I do.” She shrugged off a denim jacket, exposing a clingy white blouse that showed off a shapely figure.

  Garrett’s eyebrows shot up.

  Amused by his friend’s reaction to this female hand grenade, Deane said, “A crew is worthless without a ship.” His eyes narrowed. “What have you heard?”

  She reached up a finger and wrapped a short blonde curl around it. Her eyes studied the two of them. Then she released the curl and tapped her finger down on the table. “Six ships are being built as we speak. Most likely more later. Next week, Professor Thompson will make a list of the top five teams, and they’ll be invited on board the alien ship tethered to the space station. That means that you have to pass the buoyancy test, Garrett.” She turned to Deane, “And you have to keep it together in the accelerator. Don’t get sick and puke all over it. My lab is after yours.”

  “How do you know all this?” Deane frowned.

  “I’m a communications officer. It’s my job.” She fingered a metal necklace with a large filigreed fob. “Lucas would be perfect as our captain. You wouldn’t mind an arrogant Bogtown swamp rat for a captain, would you?”

  “Slow down, girl. I plan to be the captain.” Deane cast a quick glance at Garrett. “But we might consider him for part of the crew if he’s any good.”

  Garrett shrugged.

  The necklace vibrated. She looked down, and Deane noticed she tapped a metal belt sprinkled with winking lights. She pursed her lips. “Fine. You guys work it out. Lucas will be awesome anywhere you put him.”

  She took a final gulp of her drink, placed it on the table, and picked up her jacket. With a smile at Deane, she said, “I’m glad that’s settled. Gotta go. See you in class. Later I’ll fill you in on more information you’re going to need.” She winked, tucked in her chair, and waltzed out.

  Garrett looked at Deane. “What just happened?”

  “Frag if I know,” he said. “Looks like we got us a bridge crew … for the time being. Now we need a ship.”

  ***

  Professor Thompson glanced at his comm. “Well, that’s it for today, folks. Tomorrow is the final exam, which includes an evaluation of your lab results. Study hard until then.”

  The class gathered up their electronic tablets, jackets, and drifted out into the hall.

  Garrett rolled his eyes and tipped his head toward the door. “Here they come.”

  Walking toward them were Jet and a kid who was all muscle and no fat. His chiseled ebony face wore an expression that looked like he had just bitten into a sour lemon. They approached the two young men and stopped.

  “This is who you’ve gotten us paired with? Seriously, Jet?” He wrinkled his nose.

  “These two agreed to put up with you. That’s more than anyone else,” she shot back.

  “These two are ninnies.”

  Clenching his fists at his side, Deane squared off in front of the kid. “If I were you, I’d choose my next words carefully, or you’ll be sitting butte down on the floor.”

  “Stuff it, Lucas.” Jet put her hand on his arm. “I have an aversion to freshly spilled blood. Makes me queasy. Think. If you cooperate, our crew might be good enough to win that trip to the alien ship.”

  She stared at Deane. “He has a bad attitude, but you can deal. Look past it, and you’ll find a talented helm. He made the top score in every simulation.”

  “Helm? I want to be captain. This stinks, Jet.”

  Deane narrowed his eyes. “Those scores say helm, I’ll admit, but your attitude doesn’t say captain.”

  “I’m better than any of the morons in our class.”

  Garrett stepped up. “Nonetheless, you won’t be able to fly a ship by yourself. And my guess is very few will put up with your attitude.”

  Chapter 31

  Mysterious Stranger

  Deane’s fingers flew over the electronic keyboard. His soul vibrated to the majestic chords filling the room, as he lost himself in the grand symphony. He hadn’t played in years, but the skill returned to him as if no time at all had passed.

  A few days ago, he and Garrett had explored the campus when they no longer could stand the small study room, and their brains refused to process the complicated math of space navigation. They needed fresh air. They needed a break.

  Accidentally, they stumbled upon a small music room tucked back in the corner of the academy’s fine arts complex. An elegant electronic keyboard captured Deane’s attention, and he vowed to return to play it. When joining his high school team, he’d given up the keyboard in order to maintain his macho image. Later, after being elected their leader, he simply couldn’t find the time to indulge himself.

  Now, the music rose in volume as he segued into the famous Music of the Spheres. The song always made him feel as if he soared among the stars. Finally, the notesc crashed around him, ending with triumphant and exultation. His tingling body sat exhausted.

  Hands clapped from an open door, causing him to spin around in his chair.

  “Not bad. You played that well.”

  A stunning blonde stood in the doorway. Delicate features offered a smiling face. She wore a casual sweater and jeans. “How did you discover my secret hideaway?” She arched a fine eyebrow at him.

  “My
partner and I took a break from our studying. We decided to explore. I’ve always found that my curiosity leads me into interesting places.”

  “You’re in the astronaut program.” Her voice was soft and melodic, compelling.

  “Yes. I’m Deane Wood. Is this your place?”

  She glided in and sat on a nearby foldout chair. “Actually, it’s the academy’s, but I spend a lot of time here.” Studying the floor for a moment, she raised her head. With a deep breath, she said, “I’m Hallelujah, but you can call me Hallie in here. However, I’ll be Lieutenant Lord outside.”

  “Why does that name sound familiar? Hallelujah… something... Lord.” He reached into memory, trying to recall where he’d heard the name before.

  She straightened up and grinned. “That’s my music you were playing.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s extraordinary.”

  “Thank you.” She twisted her fingers together and stared at the floor, her cheeks blushing pink. “I should go.”

  “No, stay. I used to think females trying to meet me all the time was irritating, but I’m finding lately that I rather miss their company. Please stay.”

  An indignant expression flashed across her face. “I came here to play music…Not to meet you,” she stuttered.

  “I’m wounded.” He fell forward onto the keyboard, face first and waited. Her chuckle rewarded him. He looked up. “So, what track are you on?” Pulling up a chair next to him, he patted it.

  Hesitantly, she sat down. “Same as you, only I’m further along.” She lifted her chin.

  He found it hard to believe this delicate creature of pale blue eyes trained to pilot a spaceship.

  “You?”

  She bristled. Evidently, he wasn’t the first to doubt her choice. “I seek the Enjelise. To do that, you need a spaceship.”

  “Enjelise?” He wrinkled his nose in doubt. “They’re only a myth. They don’t really exist, do they?”

  She slanted her head; her face held an odd expression. “Oh, they exist, and I mean to find them. And, if you plan to fly a ship, you’d better hustle and graduate. The ships will be ready soon. Everything’s on a hurry-up schedule.”

  “I’ve been sensing that.” He turned to her, anger at his ignorance. “It appears everyone knows about these mysterious ships but those who plan to fly them.”

  An earnest face met his. “That’s not surprising. Almost everything here is on a need to know basis, and the production schedule of our spaceships is something you don't need to know right now. Also, you might develop a more open mind while you're at it.”

  Chastised, he said, “I’m willing to learn whatever you can teach me.” He smiled, hoping his famous dimples would work their magic on this compelling female.

  “Does that line work often for you?” Her eyebrows quirked up in amusement. Shaking her head, she stood up to leave, but not without a smile.

  ***

  Once again, Deane’s fingers danced across a computer board, but the hum of the systems coming online around him and the staccato chatter from ground control now played a different symphony. The board attempted to replicate a captain’s experience on the bridge of an unacknowledged ship, secretly in construction.

  Before him, Garrett bent over the navigation console, intense with concentration, as he confirmed the course that they hoped would navigate them to a team win. They dressed in the required spacesuits complete with helmet and mikes. Everything was set up to simulate an actual takeoff.

  “We’re at T-15 and counting,” informed a taped Mission Central’s voice.

  To Garrett’s right, Jet tapped her index finger as Mission Central polled the ground launch team for readiness. Green lights winked as each member gave a go/no go. Finally, she said, “We are all green to launch.”

  Deane twisted to glance at his crew. “They’re retracting the orbiter access arm.”

  Inside his headset, Deane heard a voice say, “Start orbital auxiliary power units.”

  He stretched upward, to tap several switches overhead. The cabin powered up and came to life. “Main engine and fuel all green,” he confirmed. “We’re a go.”

  “All go here,” Mission Central responded.

  In front of him, Lucas sat in the helm’s position, a scowl on his face and eyes concentrating on his monitors.

  “Transfer course, navigator,” Deane ordered.

  “Copy that. Course transferred.” Garrett relayed his information, which fed into the helm’s computer.

  “Helm has received course from navigation and is programmed,” Lucas responded. He eyed Garrett. “You’re off a degree.”

  Garrett’s mouth tightened. “Drift compensation.”

  “Helm, are you in agreement?” Deane queried.

  Lucas’s head bent forward as he studied the figures. After a pause, he said, “Helm supports navigation’s choice.”

  “Better fragging support me,” Garrett stabbed at a screen and a light turned green.

  “Commander advises crew to close all visors.”

  All four visors snapped shut.

  From her station, Jet said, “We’re at T minus ten.”

  “Mission Central has handed off the auto sequence start to our onboard computer,” Deane informed them.

  As the audible countdown neared takeoff, Deane flexed his fingers while the computers followed the instructions laid into them. All panels continued green.

  Garrett hummed a show tune while they waited.

  Lucas growled, “Quit that.”

  “Main engine ignition,” Deane announced.

  “Two, one, zero,” Jet chimed in on the countdown as the numbers flashed across everyone’s screen. Her voice cracked with excitement. “Liftoff.”

  The simulator shook while speakers duplicated the noise of takeoff. “Bolts are released,” Deane announced.

  The crew waited while the simulator vibrated, and screens showed computers controlling the launch course. Seconds passed that felt like an eternity.

  Finally, a voice droned, “Main booster rocket has achieved separation.”

  “Separation acknowledged,” Deane responded.

  “We’ve achieved 2600 miles per hour at an altitude of seventeen miles,” Deane reported, checking his monitor.

  At 1700 miles, the computer reported insertion into low Earth orbit. Maneuvering jets fired, easing the shuttle into orbit. Abruptly, the cabin stilled, leaving Deane’s hands shaking as adrenaline coursed through his body. He checked his monitor. They were closing in on the station.

  “We’re one degree aft the station.” Lucas smirked at Garrett. “We’re going to make a big dent in it at this rate.”

  “Give us a minute before you try a course correction, so we can drift into it,” Garrett countered.

  Deane checked the monitor. “One mile out. Hail the station, Jet.” Jet set in the station’s frequency.

  Four sets of eyes watched as the monitors showed the craft drifting sideways into the correct alignment.

  “Station has a visual.” Jet swiveled around to him.

  “There,” huffed Garrett as the screens showed the craft lining up perfectly on course. “Told you so.”

  Lucas waved a dismissive hand.

  “Commence docking,” Deane ordered.

  “Docking procedures commencing.” Lucas’s gravelly voice answered as he guided their ship into the docking slot. The cabin received a slight bump.

  “They sure go for the realism,” cracked Jet. She lifted her head. “Station reports docking is complete.”

  “Docking confirmed.” Deane stretched his arms overhead, flipping switches for shutdown.

  Garrett stared intently at his board while Jet sat, slumped in her seat. Lucas started unbuckling.

  An overhead speaker came to life. “Test is complete. You may exit the craft.”

  With fumbling fingers, Deane released his harness and rose on shaky legs. He opened the door and took a few stiff steps down the ramp as the o
thers followed. At the bottom, his instructor waited with two other officers. He squinted. One was Captain Sam Spencer, Sunpointe’s new head of the astronaut program, and the other… looked familiar. No sweater and jeans this time. A starched uniform and erect posture changed his dream girl into an officer.

  Captain Sam Spencer stepped forward “Congratulations. You executed a successful takeoff and station docking. Due to your performance, you have won the opportunity to visit the New Found Hope, along with five other teams. Each will receive a personal tour from ex-Commander Elise Fujeint Steele.”

  He was going to see a real live ship. A thrill ran through him.

  Chapter 32

  Gathering Allies

  “The only reason I let you through my door is that he insisted we meet.” Elija confronted Richard but pointed a finger at Captain Henry Longstaff.

  “I appreciate your consideration, Captain Fujeint,” answered the man at the end of the pointing finger.

  “May we sit, Captain?” Richard decided to go with formal behavior and as much pleasantness as he could muster.

  Elija puffed out his cheeks. “Call me Elija here. My flying spaceships days are over. And, yes, please have a seat. Andrew will be here presently to take your drink order.”

  As if on cue, an awkward android appeared in the cozy study where a fire blazed in the fireplace, throwing shadows on the wall. Richard sank into a large plush chair and admired the heartwood bookcases and the glimmering ark rug. Exquisite paintings of waterfalls and green forests hung on the walls.

  With jerky motions, the mechanical android stopped and bowed before Richard. A synthesized voice inquired his choice of refreshment.

  Fascinated by the contraption, Richard could barely think, so he stuttered out an easy answer, “A glass of Belluvian wine if you have it.”

  Another bow and the android turned to Henry.

  “I’ll take a whiskey.” The ex-captain glanced over at Elija, who nodded.

  “I’ll just have coffee, Andrew,” said their host.

  “Thank you for your orders, gentlemen.” The android bowed.

  Elija turned his intense violet eyes onto Richard who shuddered at the uncanny resemblance the young man had to Elise. They could be twins … probably were. Who knew what the ships had bred out there in the void?