Sagitta

by C M Benamati

  “Not much,” said Morgan.

  “Not much?” His voice was incredulous, and he whistled as he cycled the glass canopy closed. “You should have seen your face when that chick hugged you. And now, you get to sit your butt in a Firefly-class starfighter, and you say ‘not much’? You must be tripping.”

  “I must be,” said Morgan. “It’s been a different sort of day.”

  “A master of understatement, I see,” said the pilot. “What’s your name?”

  “Morgan.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Jack. No time for chit-chat I’m afraid. You’re my last rider tonight and our shift’s almost up. You’d better strap in.”

  “Strap in?” Morgan looked around and found a five-point harness attached to his seat. That was odd. “I thought these things had restraining fields?”

  “Sure they do, and we’d be using them if we were authorized to pull over 5 g’s. For now I’d rather save the power. Besides, never trust your life to electronics if you can do the same job with something mechanical.”

  Morgan fumbled with the harness, pulling each side over his shoulders and joining them with the straps across his hips. The harness tensioned itself automatically when the last clip was latched in the buckle.

  “Alright, let’s fly,” said Jack. His hands moved in a blur over the controls. The cockpit lighting switched off, leaving them in the dim glow from the holographic displays. The repulsors hummed and the ship lifted off the deck. Outside, the flight crew had retreated to a small enclosure in the center of the bay that functioned like a control tower.

  Jack adjusted a virtual display screen, then spoke out of nowhere. “Copy that Yin, I’ll tell him. Hey Morgan, someone wants to say hi.”

  “What?” said Morgan. He had no idea what Jack was talking about.

  Jack tapped his helmet. “Intership com comes through here, private channel. But look to the right.” He pointed out the window.

  Liz was waving at them from the other fighter. Morgan waved back.

  “You and her together?” said Jack.

  “Uh…yeah,” said Morgan. “Uh, that is we came here together. We’re not technically together, together. It’s her first time in space.”

  “Ok then,” said Jack. “Not an item but hopeful, huh? Come on, you can tell me, my mic’s off.”

  Morgan reddened but said nothing. Yeah right, like I’m going to tell you.

  “And what about the other guy? Is he with you guys too?”

  Morgan looked to the left as the third Firefly came alongside them. The pilot saluted and Jack returned the gesture. The passenger of the other fighter was mouthing something at them.

  Morgan stared. He did it again! First the race track, then the shuttle ride, and now this. He is a stalker! But at least he can’t bother us from the back seat of that ship.

  Victor waved at Morgan, then gave him the finger.

  “Friend of yours?” said Jack.

  Morgan shook his head. “Definitely not.”

  The pilot shrugged. “Whatever, I’m staying out of it. So, what do you want?”

  “What?”

  “What do you want for a ride? Intense, gut-wrenching, or please save me I’m gonna die?”

  Morgan glanced over at Victor. There are cameras everywhere. They’ll record what we do. “Do whatever that idiot’s pilot is going to do, but twice as fast,” said Morgan, tapping the glass canopy in the direction of Victor’s fighter. “Assuming you can.”

  “Can and will,” said Jack. He tapped a control on the side of his helmet, energizing the heads-up display within the semi-transparent visor, which he flipped down. “Andy’s a good pilot, but he learned from me.”

  Morgan took a deep breath. He reached out to grip the steering wheel, but of course there wasn’t one. The co-pilot control bezels were dark. He put his hands in his lap and waited, biting his lip. Don’t worry, it’ll be just like racing…except for the hard vacuum outside and the rocket boosters under my butt. He wished there was a steering wheel. I’m a fish out of water.

  Chapter 21

  Hrain peered out the duraglass window that overlooked docking bay nine. The Angel’s Fury rested on the deck, her charcoal hull casting a shadow over two Mekmeks that were welding something on the ship’s belly. A third Mekmek was tinkering with one of the landing struts.

  Hrain swallowed the last morsel of the snack he’d grabbed on the way down to the hanger bay, wishing he had something to drink. Ick, Talurian fire crab is disgusting. Even Angel’s synthesized food rations were better than Dominance Station’s cuisine. Still, he felt his strength returning.

  He took the service lift down to the hangar bay. As he limped towards Angel, he noticed that portions of the hull had a motley, patchwork appearance. They tore us both up pretty good, huh girl?

  Angel’s plating had been repaired with metal of a slightly lighter shade than her dark hull. A fourth technician was closing up an access panel on the starboard hyperdrive pod. She noticed him and smiled. It was a strange expression: a peculiar uplifting of the lips that only the Mekmek did.

  “So,” she said, her wiry tail twitching, “I finally get to meet our resident Maurian. I’ve heard lots about you. Ezek must like you if he pulled my crew from fixing Sub-Intendant Zroth’s flagship.”

  Hrain flattened his ears and bowed. “Hrain, at your service.”

  The Mekmek flicked her tail from side to side. “I’m Mel, the work leader. Your ship is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot of ships.”

  Hrain straightened up. “She is amazing indeed, and to tell you the truth I’ve been worried sick about her. Will she fly?”

  “She, huh?” said the Mekmek with a smirk. “You military types are all the same, in love with your hardware. Yes, she’ll fly well enough, but it’ll be a few more days. It would have been months, but Ezek sent your ship to the fabrication bay before it came here. It spent two days under the care of the station’s repair drones. They reformed half of the hull and auxiliary systems. We’re just doing final calibration and testing now. Come, I’ll show you all that we’ve fixed so far.”

  “That dirty lizard,” muttered Hrain. Ezek had been trying to get the Angel’s Fury into Dominance’s automated shipyard since Hrain had first arrived at the station. Hrain had refused of course. Now Ezek’s engineers have scans of every square millimark. They can study every system, maybe even reverse-engineer her and make a copy. Sudden dread filled him. Did they discover Angel’s secret?

  “Mel, how is the computer?”

  “It mostly works,” she said. “We had to replace some memory modules and one of the secondary controllers with Talurian parts. The computer scientists made a custom translation board to help things talk, but a few obscure processes still refuse to start. We’re running diagnostics on those. Want to see?”

  “In a little while,” said Hrain. “Right now I just need a moment for myself. I’ve missed her, you know.”

  “Ah yes,” said Mel. She made a strange tittering noise. “I understand. By all means, take your time.” She stepped aside.

  Hrain walked up the boarding ramp that ran up into Angel’s hold. He made a quick survey of the lower deck, then ascended the stairway and ran down the short corridor to the cockpit. Most things were functional, but there were a few unfinished repairs here and there.

  “Angel, how’ve you been?” he said.

  “Command unrecognized.”

  His hearts sank. “Angel, it’s me.”

  “Command unrecognized.” Her voice was cold and lifeless.

  He plopped down in the command chair and closed his eyes. He wanted to roar, but Mel and her crew would surely hear. I made it home, but she didn’t. It was silly, he supposed, mourning a computer. But Angel is more than that. Maybe she’s still in there somewhere.

  “There’s no time,” he spat. He needed to get to Mauria, and to Sledgim.

  He wondered if the orphanage was still there. I could rescue the others. There had been a lot of chil
dren, and he had been friends with many of them. Pogue had taught him many things about telepathy—the Art of Ramas, as he’d called it. And then there was Ram, and her sister Nail. Thinking of Nail made him sick. They won’t be kids anymore. Will they even remember me? Will Nail forgive me for leaving here there? Is she even there anymore? Is Sledgim even there?

  A planet had burned in his dreams, and his dreams had a way of coming true. Had it been Sledgim or Mauria? Either way, it was a terrible omen. Without Angel, this was going to be much harder. He patted the dash. “Angel, if you’re in there, I’m going to find you.”

  He flipped on the external intercom. “Mel, can you come up here for a minute? I need a favor.”

  Chapter 22

  A blue glow from the atmospheric force field washed over the cockpit as the Firefly exited the bay. Jack switched off the repulsors and they glided towards Earth. Anticipation filled the silent cockpit to bursting.

  I wish we were flying these things ourselves, thought Morgan. Then, I could show Victor what’s what.

  Out in front, Liz’s Firefly shone with reflected light from the sun. Does she know Victor’s in the third ship?

  Before Morgan could ponder that any longer, Jack lit the rocket engines. Morgan was thrown against the seatback as they shot past Liz’s Firefly. The next instant, the Earth dropped from view as Jack pitched the nose up.

  He cut the engines and flipped the ship around to look the way they had come. The earth spread out below them, glowing in brilliant greens and blues. The sudden absence of acceleration combined with the strange view of a dwindling Starlight Station was extremely unnerving. Morgan settled back down in the seat. His hands, tingling and bloodless, were locked around the harness straps.

  Jack pitched the ship down and rolled one-hundred and eighty degrees. Then he flipped back the other way, cycling them between weightless freefall and rotational acceleration. The heavenly bodies cascaded all about in wild arcs. “Just confirming my thruster sensitivity settings,” he said happily.

  Stars…Station…Earth…Sun…Stars…Station…Stars…Earth…

  Morgan closed his eyes. No, that was worse, he was going to throw up! He opened them again.

  Jack stopped the mad maneuvers. “How you doing back there?” he said.

  “I’m…good,” said Morgan. He had just noticed the Moon—it was brightly lit and seemed to hover just above the Earth’s atmosphere. It was strange that it seemed no bigger than it did when viewed from the ground. He looked up at the stars and felt very small.

  “Good,” said Jack. “Now, get ready for the real thing.”

  Morgan redoubled his grip on the harness as Jack shoved the throttle forward. He just managed to catch a glimpse of another starfighter coming alongside them when he was thrown backwards. They were heading straight at Starlight Station.

  “This is FF-01 to Starlight, coming in for a close flyby,” said Jack. There was a short pause. “Copy. Adjusting point five degrees.”

  Starlight Station was rushing at them. Morgan could see the end of the central core and the tri-spoke attachment to the ring they had exited from. The hangar bay doors running around the ring’s edge were visible now, and for a terrible moment he thought Jack was going to shoot straight into the bay.

  “Ahh!” he screamed, as Jack flipped the Firefly over. The station obscured all else from view.

  Something changed—there was a new noise and a sudden shove as the Firefly jumped vertically upwards. Morgan’s stomach rolled. The rockets cut out and he was weightless again.

  He opened his eyes.

  They were skimming across the station’s white hull, hovering mere inches above it! The deep bass note of the repulsors throbbed as Jack began a spiraling corkscrew course around the station, opposite of the station’s spin.

  “Look out!” said Morgan as Jack aimed them right at a docked freighter.

  Jack only laughed. “Pew Pew Pew!” he shouted, shoving the flight stick to the side and pirouetting around the freighter. He kept the fighter’s bow in perfect alignment as they passed the unsuspecting vessel. “Pew Pew Pew!”

  Morgan’s stomach rolled as Jack rocketed up and over a parked shuttle and then came crashing back towards the station.

  “What kind of flying is this?” said Morgan between clenched teeth.

  “The only kind, kid,” said Jack. “This is how you take out a target.”

  “Are these…” He gasped, as the breath was knocked out of him. “Are these push-pull repulsors?”

  “Yep,” said Jack. “I can stay locked in about a foot or two off of the station’s hull, clinging like a tick.”

  Everything inverted as Jack flipped the Firefly over. Apparently it had repulsor generators on its upper surface as well.

  The next instant they were diving. That was the only way to describe it. They had reached the end of the station and jack whipped the nose down. Morgan thought his guts were going to fly out the top of his head as the ship skittered over the edge of the ring. Thrusters fired, and the g-forces doubled.

  “Crap,” said Jack. “Lost my hold.”

  “What do you mean?” said Morgan.

  “We were going too fast to stay with the station without exceeding the five g safety limit. Look.”

  He changed angle and Morgan saw the receding outline of the station against the backdrop of the Earth.

  “It’s no problem,” said Jack. “We’ll catch it again.” He pushed the main throttle forward, igniting the rockets. For a while nothing seemed to happen, but then the Firefly’s relative velocity reached zero and it began to close on the station once more. Morgan squinted—two black streaks were winding this way and that over the station’s white hull. The other fighters! He watched as they approached the edge of the third ring.

  The two little ships fired thrusters and dove, sticking to the edge of the ring and then disappearing beneath it.

  “Yeah yeah,” said Jack into his helmet mic. “I’m coming. And I’m going to catch you.”

  Starlight Station loomed before them. Morgan ducked involuntarily as Jack skimmed under the station’s hull into the gap between the rings and the central core. The other fighters had already traversed the length of the station and had turned around, zigzagging in and out between the spokes.

  The gap was internally lit by huge floodlights mounted both on the inner surface of the rings and the outer surface of the station’s core. The lights whipped past, leaving streaks in Morgan’s vision. He grimaced as Jack darted around one of the spokes and flew straight at the nearest fighter.

  “Ahh!” yelled Morgan as the other ship bore down on them. Then, it simply wasn’t there. He caught a glimpse of its thruster exhaust as it darted towards the stations’ core. Jack had nudged their course in the other direction. Repulsors hummed as they skimmed along beneath the ring.

  The other Firefly rose out of nowhere, coming alongside as they rampaged through the gap. What followed, Morgan could barely comprehend—a dance as beautiful as it was deadly. Left, right, up, down—all the directions became a jumbled mess. At some point the third Firefly joined them, interleaving maneuvers as they bounced around inside the station.

  One moment they were flying backwards, and the next they were back in open space. Jack cut the engines and they drifted.

  “How was that, kid?”

  Morgan tried to speak but all that came out was a petrified squeak. “Ood,” he finally managed to gasp. “Ga, good. Real good.”

  “That’s the idea.” Jack tapped his helmet. “Yin says that your together, not-together lady friend wants to talk to you.”

  “Oh yeah?” said Morgan. “Give me a minute.” Breathe, just breathe man. He looked down at his shaking hands and willed them to unclench the harness straps. Finally, they did. “Ok, can you put her on?”

  “One second,” said the pilot. He flipped a switch on the dash, then spoke again. “Local com received, I read you, Yin. You guys are on the horn.”

  “Copy,” came a woman’s voice. �
��Nice flying, Jumper. I’m coming up on your starboard side.”

  “Copy,” said Jack.

  Another Firefly came alongside them, its rockets in reverse-thrust mode. The pilot matched velocity and killed the engines. Liz waved at Morgan from the back seat. The pilot, who must be Yin, nodded her head and offered a salute, which Jack returned.

  “Ok, you can talk and they can hear you,” said Yin.

  “Morgan, that you?” Liz’s voice was slightly compressed by the com circuit, and she sounded out of breath.

  “Yeah,” said Morgan, returning her wave. I hope she can’t see how bad I’m shaking. He mustered all his nerve and forced his voice into a more casual, lower octave. “How was it?”

  “It was so, so good!” said Liz. “Craziest ride ever. Did you see Victor out here? He tried to get the drop on us but Yin wasn’t having it. We got a target lock on him and blasted his ship! Simulation weapons only, unfortunately.”

  “Must have missed it,” said Morgan. “I couldn’t tell who was who.”

  “I sent Andy packing alright,” said Yin. “Silly boy, trying to play games out here.”

  “Silly boys,” corrected Liz. The sound of laughing overloaded the com for a moment. “So,” said Liz after a moment. “What’s next?”

  “How about the Sagitta?” said Jack. “We’ve got the time. I think Andy went over that way, after you sent him packing with his tail between his legs.”

  “Sure,” said Yin. “The Sagitta’s a beautiful ship.”

  “She is indeed,” said Jack. He clicked off his mic and looked back at Morgan. “Not as beautiful as Yin though, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Feeling a bit of starship envy?” said Yin. “Is that Firefly not good enough for you?”

  Jack clicked his mic back on. “You know that’s comparing apples and oranges. But the Sagitta’s been looking great. Her hull’s complete. When’s the last time you did a fly-by?”