Weight of Gravity

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  Richard stood up and tapped the table. “If every country doesn’t agree to unite to protect Alysia, then we’re lost, and so are our children and all future generations of ours. Tell them that.”

  Chapter 34

  On a Terran Bridge

  Totally wrung out, Deane slouched next to an equally drained Garrett. The morning had started with a puzzling psych exam, followed by an embarrassingly intimate body probe into cavities no one had ever dared entered before. Thank the Lady, the doctor was male. Then in the afternoon, a series of stress tests and a mug of green glop, which had nearly turned his stomach.

  But right now, he survived--barely.

  He tossed a glance at Garrett, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. His friend had endured the same fate.

  “One more day of tests and we’re on a shuttle to the Terran Space Station. They say it’s gotten rundown, but they aim to restore it.”

  Next to him, Garrett made an attempt to voice a positive attitude. “Still, an alien space station would be a new place to explore," he offered.

  Deane cracked a knuckle. “I heard they passed the vote for a unified space fleet. Looks like we might have a job. It would be an adventure to tell my kids about.”

  “About that, Deane. It sounds really dangerous. Rumor is they’re building armed spaceships. Lately, I’ve been training on shooter games. The sim’s board is weaponized. Gives me pause. I was in for space exploration, not a space war.”

  “They wouldn’t put you on weapons. You’re nav.”

  Garrett shifted to an upright position. “Still, it says shots will be fired at my tender carcass. Maybe Lucas should be weapons rather than helm. He’s aggressive enough.”

  With a shake of his head, Deane disagreed, “You need to know when to pull the trigger, my man, not just fire, fire, fire because you want to obliterate everyone else.”

  “Well, motor mouth has the right seat. Communications is her forte. My ears go numb around her.”

  “She knows her stuff.”

  “More than makes me comfortable.” Garrett rubbed his face and squinted over at him. “Where does she get all her information? Who’s her source?”

  Deane peered off into space. “And what’s she telling them about us?”

  “That necklace of hers…”

  “Yeah.”

  “Touches it a lot.” Garrett raised an eyebrow.

  “Almost pervy.” Deane shook off a chill. “I need a stiff drink. What about you? Tomorrow’s our last day before the trip.”

  “Sure.”

  “If we survive.”

  Deane waved an arm. “Positive thinking, Garrett. Give me positive thinking.”

  Garrett stood up and stretched. “I’m positively going to die at this rate.” He stopped and dropped his arms. “Every fragging inch of my body aches.”

  Deane rose beside him. “In places you and I need not discuss. Come on. Let’s get that drink and develop a strategy to whip those other teams.”

  “Okay, I’m up for that.”

  ***

  From Tygel’s spaceport launch pad, Deane surveyed the shuttle. Twenty-five young adults near his age crowded in. You could identify the teams by the way they all stuck together, tossing out hostile glances toward their fellow competitors. One group stood out. Five hyped-up faces, all twitching and muttering. Reminded him of Lucas with their down-turned mouths and deep frowns, their hands clenching and unclenching.

  “Who are they?” someone asked.

  Hair shaved up the side, possibly a real color, but most likely not. Dyed yellow, red or black. They wore black jackets, black pants, and a black attitude.

  “Weapon’s board.”

  Garrett cinched his belt tighter. “They make me itch.”

  “If they shoot the enemy before it shoots us, I’m all for them.”

  “Deane, now you're makinge me itch.”

  Jet slid in next to them. “Hey guys, you ready for the experience of your life?”

  “What you know, comm?”

  “Nada. Zilch. Zero.”

  “First time, I expect.” Garrett sent her a fake smile.

  “Giving me too much credit, Cherimysu.”

  Garrett shook a finger at her. “Don’t be giving me that Ching T’Karre love talk. You’re just making fun. Mean it if you say it.” He stared at her, lifted an eyebrow.

  Her eyes widened.

  They climbed aboard, and the shuttle started vibrating.

  Ignoring his taunt, she said, “Soon, we could be up front driving this crate.” She wiggled about and tested her straps.

  Deane laughed. “What? One successful sim run and you’re a shuttle runner?”

  Her answer was drowned out as they felt the hard push back and the shuttle rattled upward from the pad. The heavy G load forced Deane deep into his seat. For over ten minutes, he felt the heavy press of acceleration. Then, the two booster rockets dropped away, offering a moment of anxiety. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand any more pressure, gravity’s heavy hand lifted, and everything drifted upwards.

  “Wow!”

  Deane looked over at Jet, seeing her hair rise in a nimbus cloud of blonde about her amazed face.

  Exclamations floated throughout the cabin. From the cockpit, a female voice said, “We’ll soon achieve insertion into low Alysian orbit. An absence of gravity means keep track of all your loose items and button everything down. Catching up to the space station will take time. There will be several burns to align the shuttle into its orbital path and then a flip to mate. Keep strapped in and find something to occupy yourself until we get closer to docking. We are hours away. I’ll let you know when we’re near. Captain out.”

  Looks flew from person to person. Excited chatter flooded the cabin.

  “That was Commander Fujeint-Steele,” Jet said.

  “You think so?” Garrett voiced a doubt.

  “Pretty sure. Who else?”

  “I don’t know all the shuttle jockeys.”

  Jet tossed her head, causing short hair to fluff. “I do. Only two females and they’re scheduled at another time.”

  Garrett leaned into her as far as his harness would allow. “How do you know all that stuff?”

  She pushed him away. “Contacts. Remember I'm communications.”

  “Fearfully nosey, I’m betting.” Garrett offered his explanation.

  “My one great weakness, I’ll admit.” She smiled.

  Deane closed his eyes and put in earplugs to block out all the nonsense.

  ***

  The the actual bridge of The New Found Hope was smaller than Deane had expected and wasn't the same as the sims. He wasn’t used to this panel configuration. Flat electronic screens scrolled data at every station, and most controls used touch-pads or a voice-activated interface. They limited personnel on the bridge to only ten candidates at a time, with the ranking elite taking up a generous portion.

  As he studied the body language of those present, he found the most interesting was the friendly attitude between Lieutenant Lord and Director Steele. The Director put a hand on her shoulder and leaned far too close to talk with her. She, in turn, smiled too fragging much at him. A spark of anger skittered through him. Annoyed by his reaction, he tamped down hard on it, but ignoring his efforts, it lingered.

  His attention also snagged on a peculiar exchange occurring between Jet and some weird guy with springy hair and the same collection of heavy metal jewelry draped on his body. A slight resemblance between them intrigued him.

  The guy had singled Jet out, calling her Samantha Pacque. Samantha! No wonder she called herself Jet. It suited her better. Deane frowned. He might harass her a bit over the name. It would serve her right. Jet Pacque. Ha!

  Garrett leaned in. “That Deuce Card guy has the smell of I.N.Sys about him. You think, Deane?”

  “Maybe.” He thought that idea over and agreed.

  “He’s awful cozy with our Jet there.”

  “Our Jet? She ever hear you talk like th
at?”

  Garrett blushed. “She’d have my hide,” he whispered. “But that connection would explain a few things.”

  Director Steele left with a brief touch on Hallie’s arm, passing ex-Commander Fujeint-Steele who briskly entered, giving the two a friendly nod.

  “Welcome to the bridge of the New Found Hope,” she began. “Billions of miles have been logged on this bridge, and many life and death encounters have occurred here. Please refrain from touching the electronics as we are not provisioned for any unplanned excursions.”

  A nervous chuckle rippled through those present.

  Deane noticed the worn upholstery, nicks on various electronics, and dents in several panels. Worn.

  The Commander edged her way into the Captain’s seat and began tapping in commands. Boards lit up, graphs and numbers blinked onto screens and air wafted in from vents. “Your training boards will be configured around these panels, but the final ship layout may be configured differently. Newer ships will be lighter and smaller. This ship was built as a generation ship meant to support four hundred working and four hundred in cryo. It has gardens, manufacturing facilities, sleeping, recreation, kitchens, engineering, the full complement for a sustainable voyage.”

  Everyone had noticed the impressive alien ship attached to the space station when they’d docked at Earth2.

  Elise continued, “Each team will compete in simulations and tests for the selection of a bridge crew. The top qualifying team will be the first candidates to fly the selected prototype.”

  An eager cadet exclaimed, “Whoever successfully accomplishes it will go down in the history books.” He gazed around at the others. “And I plan that to be me.”

  His fellow teammates laughed and elbowed each other.

  After the announcement, interest ratcheted up even higher, and everyone paid close attention while the Commander demonstrated the different panels and their intended uses. Deane was glad he’d memorized the manual, so he could follow along easily.

  As they left the bridge, he whispered into Garrett’s ear, “I wonder where the ships are?”

  Garrett drew back with a grin. “Sounds like an excursion is in order.”

  Jet sidled in. “So, where are we off to?”

  Chapter 35

  Excursion

  “Nowhere,” they shouted at Jet in unison.

  Jet glanced from one to the other, then slid a hand deep inside her bright red top, extracting a piece of paper. “You might be interested in a sketch I painstakingly procured.” She unfolded it, revealing a detailed black ink drawing of the interior of the ship.

  The two cadets exchanged looks. “You have a blueprint of the ship on paper?”

  She frowned. “Are you kidding? Electronics can be hacked. Where I’ve stashed this, no one’s going to get it.”

  “Are you sure about that?” drawled Garrett, a silly smile on his face. He made a groping motion with his hand.

  Pointedly ignoring the comment, she turned her back on him and lined out a series of pathways. “Here’s how we get to the docking bay. That’s where I’m betting we find our ships.” She folded the paper up and tucked it deep inside her bra.

  “Let me see that again.” Garrett reached toward her top, but got his hand slapped away.

  Deane pushed Garrett forward. “Cut it out, you two. Focus on finding us a corridor that leads to the shuttlebay.”

  “Follow me,” Jet sang out. They passed a number of chattering cadets exiting out of the bridge, most likely headed toward the bar or back to their units. In the corridor, they collided with an incoming group, eagerly jostling each other to claim the now vacated positions on the bridge. All the milling around provided sufficient confusion, which allowed the three to slip away.

  Groping their way down a gray ceramic wall that angled off into a side corridor, Jet led them into a quieter section of the ship.

  Deane wrinkled his nose. “Smells like stale recycled air, but there’s also an odor of…”

  “… metal burning,” Garett chimed in.

  “From that direction.” Jet pointed down a different corridor and fished out her sketch for a quick check, then under Garrett’s close scrutiny returned it.

  The three slipped past several closed panels. “Here’s a shaft that goes down to the shuttlebay corridor.” Jet punched a button as a door opened, and they stepped in.

  All three grabbed the hold bar as the lift surged downward, causing their bodies to lift until it stopped with a jarring clank. They stepped out and edged closer to a set of thick, gray, bonded-steel doors, which they found securely locked. A narrow window lined the right side.

  Jet pressed her nose against the plexiglass and gasped, her breath clouding the pane.

  “Let me see.” Garrett muscled her over as Deane caught a vision of furious activity, then the back of Garrett’s head. Deane rose up higher and found an open section above Garrett’s hair where he could peer into the bay.

  Inside, men were scattered like ants over a developing composite metal framework. Already, Deane could envision its compact form that even now hinted at incredible power … a star-faring warship in the making.

  Garrett got pushed aside, and Jet’s head popped up in front of Deane. Her hair tickled his face. “Rather small, isn’t it?” she muttered. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Behind them, a liquid voice answered, “That’s only the rough structure. They’ll assemble the rest outside when it’s closer to finished, but it will be fast and agile because it's smaller.”

  The three whirled around to be confronted by a glowing humanoid figure. Their eyes widened, and jaws dropped.

  Before them, stood a radiant being dressed in a black silky shirt and dark iridescent pants. Light blond hair framed an exquisitely formed face. Whatever it was, it was more art than human. Deane shivered. He wasn’t staring at human. Even with the humanoid form, this being felt alien.

  “Where’d you come from?” Deane choked out.

  The apparition waved a nonchalant hand. “The bridge. Elise asked me to meet her here. She noticed you three slipping away and wanted me to keep tabs on you so that you don’t get into any mischief. It appears I’m too late.”

  Jet squeezed his arm. “Deane, that’s an Enjelise.”

  “They aren’t real,” popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to realize what he was saying.

  “On the contrary, they’re very real,” said a familiar voice as the beautiful Lieutenant Hallie Lord strode up. “Aren’t you, Angel?”

  “I should hope so,” he answered drily.

  They grinned at each other as if they shared a secret.

  The Lieutenant faced Deane. “I told you they existed, but you wouldn’t listen.” She swung around to glare at Jet. “Missy, you be careful where you go and what you reveal to people. You’re at the Academy because of your cousin’s recommendation and our forbearance, so be careful if you want to stay. You shouldn’t be in this section.”

  Jet paled. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Deane reached for words, “They’re constructing a spaceship in there.” His finger pointed towards the shuttlebay.

  The Enjelise nodded. “The gravity in the bay helps the work progress faster. Things don’t go floating off into the void, but on station, materials are easier to handle than if constructed on Alysia. However, this ship will be smaller and more agile than any built before.”

  “It looks like a warship more than an exploration craft.”

  Hallie smiled. “You’re very observant. It is. You might fly one if you’re up to it. They’ll be announcing a competition among various countries to win the contract for the prototype. We hope to win, but this must be kept absolutely quiet for now. If you divulge what you saw, your career here at the Academy will be over. I’ll make sure of it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes Ma’am!” All three snapped to attention and saluted. Deane darted a glance out of the corner of his eyes back toward the shuttlebay. He could be more than a shuttle pilot. He migh
t be a starship captain. Excitement surged through him.

  Jet stirred next to him. “How soon will they be ready?”

  “We hope they’ll be ready in time.” Hallie and Angel shared a look.

  That sounded ominous. “In time for what?” Deane asked in a shaky voice.

  More glances were exchanged between the two, but the question remained unanswered, filled with only an awkward pause.

  “Can we go in and look?” Garrett pressed eagerly against the doors.

  “Soon enough, but not now. They don’t even let us in at this stage without an appointment and official approval.” Angel pointed toward the lift. “Go back but not a word to the other cadets, and remember, you never saw this here or your career is forfeit.”

  Hallie put a hand on Deane’s arm. “We’re here to get an update for Commander Fujeint-Steele. You three are not on a need to know basis… at least, not yet. So, go back, and I’ll be in touch as soon as the time is right.”

  “The Enjelise are real?”

  “We’re real,” said Angel, confirming his words. “There’s a lot more in this universe than you presently know or understand, but for now, you need to return and prepare for what might come.”

  So, something might be coming. Deane shivered at the idea.

  ***

  “Tell me you haven’t lost your mind.” Trace spun around and walked to the window in his office and then paced back toward Richard.

  Richard firmly closed the ornate wooden door and sat with an exasperated huff on a beige leather chair.

  Clearly upset, Trace paused in front of him, arms crossed.

  “A glass of Belluvian wine would be a hospitable gesture right about now.” Richard lifted his head to return his friend’s glare.

  With a loud snort, Trace pivoted to grab a bottle and glasses from his cabinet and pour some of the rich red wine. He handed Richard a glass and settled into a matching chair on the other side of a small, dark wooden table.

  Trace put his glass on the table with a sigh. “We need to keep all countries involved and contributing, or the program could fall apart. Your list for the crews created an uproar. A few threatened to pull out of the program.”