There is something soothing about the motion, if you don’t try to think too hard about what’s happening.
With my peripheral vision I watch the rapid-fire pattern of Start/Finish Line holo-projections speeding by on both sides of us, as we move in and out of the left, then the right channels between formations.
Seconds tick away, as we weave around hundreds of ships, dizzying our vision. . . . We pass slower shuttles, while faster ones pass us. I have no idea how our speed is compared to the others.
“How much longer till the flagship and the top of the column?” I mutter, when the clock reads 06:34 minutes.
As if to answer me, the automated traffic controller says:
“Shuttle #47, prepare to turn ahead. . . . Fleet termination, ten second warning.”
“Okay, Braking now!” Chiyoko exclaims hastily.
I relinquish the Red, and she takes over on Green, slowing us down gradually, and circle swiping in a nice clean arc, as we enter the 5-kilometer boundary between the second ark-ship and ICS-1.
We come around in a perfect circle, and then descend below the ship to enter the bottom-level lane for the return leg of the Race. Other shuttles swoop down all around us, doing the same maneuver.
So far, so good, smooth sailing. . . .
We start ripping toward the back of the Fleet, once again weaving around the middle column #2, except now we’re below the underbellies of the great ark-ships.
“Time looks good!” Chiyoko says, in a voice that’s almost surprised.
I glance up and the Clock reads 09:26. Not bad at all. . . .
I keep circle-swiping on Red, weaving us in and out.
Hundreds of ships. . . .
The pattern starts to blur in my mind, and it’s also become easy now.
I breathe evenly, and slowly, gradually increase our speed.
“What are you doing?” Chiyoko notices our increasing velocity.
“Don’t worry,” I mutter, focusing in utmost concentration on maintaining the Zen state.
“Are you sure?” Her voice sounds high-pitched and nervous, while her micro-corrections on the Blue Grid speed up to match mine on Red.
“Yup,” I say. “Doing okay there, not too fast for you?”
“No, I’m okay, actually,” she responds.
And we keep moving at the increased speed.
At some point we weave back around ICS-2, our own home ship, but we’re not done yet—in this type of race course we have to keep going, because it’s not considered a finish until we make a complete circle around the entire Fleet, so now we have to reach the anchor ship, ICS-4.
“Doing okay, Chiyoko?” I mutter, never taking my eyes from the gestalt of movement and flow in the window ahead.
“Yes,” she replies, concentrating on her own Blue Grid.
I check the time, and wow, Clock says 11:42. We’re making very decent time!
Meanwhile, the shuttle traffic around us is picking up now, as though everyone has figured out their rhythm, and is now trying to beat the clock.
Just a few minutes more, and we hear:
“Shuttle #47, prepare to turn ahead. . . . Fleet termination, ten second warning.”
Okay, so we’re just about to reach the back end of the Fleet and ICS-4.
“I’m on it!” Chiyoko takes over and goes Green to Brake.
I watch her turn us around in another wonderfully smooth perfect circle around the penultimate ark-ship, in that 5-kilometer gap between it and ICS-4.
It occurs to me momentarily, this is the exact same spot where Hugo and I lost control during the first QS Race. . . . The place where we were driven off course by those other out-of-control shuttles and where we spun out, then started to drift like crazy until we Breached. . . .
No, don’t think.
Instead I take deep breaths and watch us do a perfectly controlled, beautiful maneuver, thanks to Chiyoko.
However, the two shuttles directly in front of us are not so lucky.
“Oh, crap, no!” I exclaim, as I watch in horror the sudden out-of-control wobble and then wild slide of one shuttle about a hundred feet ahead of us as it starts to turn, but instead goes spinning. . . .
Not again!
But it does not endanger us.
Instead it spins and flies directly at the same formation ark-ship that we are presently circumventing. And now it’s on a direct collision course with the giant hull wall of violet plasma. . . .
Chiyoko and I both scream, and she Brakes forcefully to get us away from the out-of-control spinning second shuttle—which barely manages to regain its turning axis and then keeps going into the proper turn, and rises up to merge with the upper level traffic racing lane heading the same way as the Stream.
Meanwhile the first shuttle hurtles head-on into the ark-ship . . . and we stare as it slams at the plasma force field. . . .
And disappears.
“Oh my God . . .” Chiyoko whispers in horror.
We continue coasting carefully and slowly as we wait a few seconds . . . for what? For a silent space explosion, maybe? Anything?
Instead, there is no trace of the shuttle.
There is nothing.
It’s as if, the moment it made contact with the plasma energy shield it ceased to exist.
“Wow,” I whisper. “Was it vaporized? I don’t see any debris. . . .”
Chiyoko shakes her head. “I don’t know. . . .”
“Okay, we should probably keep going then,” I mutter. “We only lost about twenty seconds on the Clock.”
And so we pick up speed and start rising in order to merge back onto the home stretch of the race course.
In that moment, just as we’re almost at the upper level, I glance at the lower section of the viewport window and see a strange sight.
The shuttle that had disappeared about thirty seconds ago, suddenly emerges from the inside of the ark-ship . . . about three hundred feet away from its original disappearance spot.
At the same time, the location where it reappears seems to flicker peculiarly. The plasma crackles. . . . And then just for a brief crazy moment, the entire outline of the great ark-ship shimmers and flickers also.
For a moment it looks unreal, flat, two-dimensional.
And the shuttle that came out is perfectly unharmed and now makes its way back on course.
“Look!” I exclaim. “Did you see that? Okay, that’s just impossible!”
“What?” Chiyoko glances up nervously, but she missed it, and she does not recognize the shuttle.
“That—that’s the same shuttle—” I stammer. “It’s back! It returned! But—that makes no sense.”
“Huh?” Chiyoko mumbles.
Unless. . . .
And then the truly crazy thought comes to me.
The ark-ship—it is not real. It’s a hologram.
Stunned, I almost forget to do my part on the Red Grid propulsion.
“Sorry, I don’t understand,” Chiyoko mutters. “Okay, can you please hurry up, Gwen? We need to merge.”
“Right, never mind,” I say, while my mind is reeling and I try to get a grip.
That ark-ship flickered like a standard hologram undergoing a brief static charge. I am completely sure of it. It explains why there was no collision, no debris, no destroyed shuttle.
But—what the hell does that mean?
What’s a hologram of an entire ark-ship doing in the Fleet formation?
And then an even scarier thought comes to me: what if it’s not the only one? What if the entire Fleet formation is full of ships that are holograms?
Holy crap! No, that can’t be, that’s just crazy. . . .
My mind begins to panic, but I don’t allow myself the luxury. Instead, I slam down a steel wall of focus and concentrate on the weaving pattern before me.
A few minutes later, we reach the ICS-2 Finish Line.
As we pass the wide holo-strip of golden light projected from our home ship across the flight lane, our Race Clock fre
ezes at 16:48. That’s a great time.
Chiyoko exclaims in wonder. I force myself to smile back at her.
But instead of celebrating, it’s with a heavy heart that I let Chiyoko take over on the Green Brake. And we enter the launch tunnel and return to ICS-2 Shuttle Bay Four.
Tonight I am going to see Command Pilot Aeson Kassiopei.
And he’d better have some answers for me.
Chapter Forty-One
But first, we get out of our shuttles, give up control to the next Pilot Pair in the relay and stand aside nervously, watching the rest of the Quantum Stream Race along with the crowds in the shuttle bay.
The Race is over about an hour and a half later, as the last of the Pilot Pairs return in the shuttles.
Our Final Scores are tabulated instantly, and we all crowd to the smart boards to see our Cadet Standings. For a while I allow myself to forget the hologram ark-ship situation and just bump shoulders with everyone else as Chiyoko and I push our way forward to see our numbers.
The smart boards refresh, and here come our numbers for ICS-2 in one column, and our overall Fleet Scores in the other. . . . It’s also interesting to see that the four Quadrant general rankings have changed slightly, so that Blue and Red are neck-to-neck, followed by Yellow and then Green. Go, Yellow—my Quadrant’s moving up!
Everyone mutters, exclaims, holds their breath.
We watch as Alla Vetrova and Conrad Hart are the reigning champions, with a #1 standing for the ship, and a 100% perfect Fleet Score. Which means they could be in the top 200 across the Fleet overall—though, with top Cadets from 2,000 ark-ships vying for only 200 spots, there are no guarantees.
But if some of those 2,000 ships are only holograms, the crazy persistent thought plagues me, then maybe their odds are way better. . . .
Okay, I really, really need some answers, and fast, before I go insane.
I watch the scroll and see that in spot #2 for ICS-2 is Logan Sangre and Oliver Parker, with a 99% Fleet Score.
Wow. . . . Logan is really pushing his way up the ranks, I think.
Meanwhile, the Tsai siblings, Erin and Roy, have been knocked down to #3, with a 98% Fleet Score, followed by Leopold Deller and DeeDee Kim at #4 and a 97% Fleet Score.
And then, as Chiyoko and I stare in amazement, we see our names listed.
We’re at #5 for ICS-2.
And, we have a 96% Fleet Score.
No effing way!
Chiyoko makes a stifled scream and puts her hands over her mouth, and starts crying. I scream also, and then hug her. . . . She hugs me back, and we sort of dance around and scream, holding each other, and getting out of the way of others.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” she mutters and I mutter. I think we’re both hyperventilating at this point.
“I don’t know how, but we did it, Gwen! Thank you for being such a good partner!” Chiyoko says, smiling and sniffling at the same time, and constantly wiping her reddened face and the running tears.
“I can’t believe it either! And no, thank you! You were awesome!”
Well, this definitely changes things for both of us—being in the top five for our ship. Chiyoko is going to have nice Fleet placement opportunities available. And me? My chances are so much better now—when at the end of next month we finally arrive in Atlantis and the CP has to make his decision about allowing me to compete in the Games of the Atlantis Grail.
Eventually we look up at the smart boards again and start to watch for other people we know and their numbers to scroll by. Looks like, after the initial rush to learn their own, everyone is doing it too.
Well, I don’t have to wait long for Blayne Dubois and Leon Madongo—there they are at #18 and their Fleet Score is 93%! Way to go, Blayne and Leon!
Out of curiosity I stick around and wait to see Hugo Moreno’s score. It’s way down in the lower middle of the scroll, at #419, and the Fleet Score is a dismal 61%. I wonder if Marc Goldstein now regrets becoming his Pilot partner. . . . Hey, not my problem.
The rest of the day goes by quickly. I get back to my cabin and call up Gracie and Laronda to make sure they both did okay, and apparently all is well.
Gracie and her partner got an excellent #35 for their ship standing, and a 90% Fleet Score, while Laronda has landed #104 for her ship and an 87% Fleet Score, which is not bad at all. With these numbers, both of them have a solid future in the Fleet.
Well, now the not-so-good part.
While most of the Cadets are celebrating or just recovering from the grueling event of this morning, I brood for the whole day, waiting for an opportunity to speak with Kassiopei. It’s QS Race Day, so there are no duties scheduled for me at the CCO. However I do have the voice training at 8:00 PM.
And it can’t come soon enough.
I walk into the CCO five minutes early.
Tonight my heart is racing for two different reasons. One, I get to see him, as always. Two, I get to ask him the scary questions, with possibly even scarier answers.
Aeson Kassiopei is standing near his desk, adjusting one of the mech arms for the display monitors.
The moment he sees me, he stops doing whatever he’s doing and turns to me.
“Congratulations,” he says in an unreadable voice. “You did very well on the Quantum Stream Race today. Better than expected.”
“Thank you,” I say with unusual composure, while my breath comes evenly as I attempt to control it. “I tried to follow your advice, and I think it helped.”
“Following my advice? You surprise me yet again.”
I nod, still breathing regularly and don’t respond to his mild taunt.
He must be extremely well attuned to my nuances, because he raises one brow and looks at me in expectation. “You don’t appear as pleased as you should be. Why is that, Lark? Tell me what is the matter.”
My lips part. . . . How did he know?
“Command Pilot,” I say, while a cold terror immediately begins to build up in my gut. “I’m very happy with my results. But—something happened today during the Race.”
He continues looking at me, closely, with his unblinking masked expression.
And then I tell him the whole thing. “That shuttle emerged back out from the ark-ship, unharmed,” I conclude, “while there was a strange visual effect—a ripple of sorts. Which is something that happens with holograms.”
At the word “holograms” I notice him grow very still, more so than he already is. Okay, this does not bode well. . . . So, I persist.
“Was that ark-ship a hologram? And if so, are there others like it in the Fleet? Please, Command Pilot, I need to know! I must know what’s going on!”
There is a long pause.
And then he exhales a held breath, and sits down at his desk. He points to one of the other empty chairs, and I sit down across from him in my usual spot.
“Please . . .” I say. “Please tell me, what is really going on?”
He frowns, watching me. “Sometimes, you’re too perceptive for your own good. It is unfortunate that you had to discover the nature of that ship. Yes, it is a hologram.”
“My God. . . .” I start to tremble.
“Don’t be alarmed. There are no others like it in the Fleet. No other holograms. It is the only one.”
“But why? How did it get there?”
He exhales another held breath. “I put it there.”
“What?”
“I had to fill in the vacant space in the formation in order to maintain security, among other things. The actual ship has stayed behind, remaining in Earth’s orbit.”
“Oh!” I feel so many burning questions well up inside me.
He notices my anxiety. “These are all matters that don’t concern you directly, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Not worry?” I exclaim. Immediately I feel a stab of anger, and it gives me a boost of crazy energy. “Are you serious? How does it not concern me? What is that ship doing back on Earth?”
He starts to frown lightly.
“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is my home! My family is there, I want to know—no, I demand to know what is going on!”
Command Pilot Kassiopei leans in closer to me, resting his hands on his desk. His composed expression hardens. “Right now, you are treading on dangerous ground, Lark. You are not to speak this way to me—ever. Remember yourself.”
I let out my breath. I meet the look of his beautiful, terrifying eyes.
“Forgive me, Command Pilot,” I say, in a careful voice like ice. “I have overstepped my bounds.” And I continue to look at him fiercely, negating my compliant words.
For a few seconds, we are in a duel of gazes. And then, surprisingly, he relents first, by looking away.
“There’s not much that can be disclosed to unauthorized personnel such as yourself,” he says in an almost resigned voice. “However, I will tell you some of it—because I trust you sufficiently, as my Aide, and as a human being—someone who is intelligent enough to understand the complexity of the situation.”
I blink and continue to watch him with absolute intensity. In that unexpected moment, I suddenly see the vulnerability in him, in the way his walls of composure break down momentarily, as he speaks to me on this very peculiar, human level of equals. And for some reason, it breaks my heart.
And then he begins to talk, looking off into space, and not meeting my gaze directly. Maybe it’s easier for him to speak that way. . . . I know it’s easier for me.
“The ship will remain in orbit around Earth all the way up to the arrival of the asteroid. It remains there for a number of reasons. Yes, obviously, it’s a last resort, in case there’s a sudden last-minute solution to the tragic situation. It also remains in order to establish a communication link with the Fleet in the Quantum Stream—otherwise we would not be able to receive news of Earth and transmit back to them.”
He pauses, glancing at me briefly. “Your Earth United Nations governments and Earth Union have apparently relied on the fact that we are leaving ships in orbit—they expected several, not just one. My Father, the Imperator, has made them promises he never planned to fulfill. He is at least partially responsible for creating and escalating the tragic situation with Earth Union. He can never meet their demands, and they have an incomplete, false understanding of the situation.”
Compete Page 47