Space Scout
Page 22
“Race against the others?” I asked , “No fear, I’ll get slaughtered. Your guys are used to those things, I’ve never flown one in my life.”
“No, not in the race. We can take a ride with the Computer controlled one. To give you an idea of how it feels to ride the course,” explained Manera.
“Well, that sounds like it may be fun,” I said. Manera spoke into her communicator and in a few seconds a Tanseh detached itself from the others and made its way over to the viewing platform. By now, Batsano and the others had been put in the picture and they were looking highly pleased with themselves.
“Ah, you will enjoy this Paul,” exclaimed Batsano rubbing his hands in glee. “But I hope you did not have a heavy breakfast,” he added smirking.
I grinned broadly and feigned casual unconcern as we boarded the Tanseh which had connected to the Viewing Platform’s airlock. We settled into the Tanseh’s seats, which appeared to have been fitted with special straps and helmets which were connected to the seat. Once strapped in the helmets secured your head and shoulders to the seat, rendering you rigid and immobile. Only the hands were free, but since the Tanseh was flying itself, I settled back to enjoy the ride. I could see Manera out of the corner of my eye strapped into the other seat, and I could hear her voice on the intercom. I gave her the thumbs up and she smiled reassuringly.
The Tanseh approached the entrance to the course and we could now see into the tube of light which was something like twenty metres in diameter. We stopped at the entrance and pulsing figures of light appeared on the view screen. Then we were off and I felt the full acceleration of the Tanseh pressing me back in my seat. It felt like two G’s, which was more than I expected the Tanseh capable of. The first part of the course was a straight for a couple of kilometres which allowed the Tanseh to get up to a fair speed, which we could tell from the circular ‘joins’ that made up the wall of the tube every hundred metres or so which soon merged into a continuous stream of light. These were the Laser generators which we had to avoid contact with at all cost. We came to the first bend and the Tanseh decelerated savagely and veered sideways, climbed steeply, then hurtled down. The change in gravity and direction, from 2 G’s to zero first slammed the breath out of me, then left me hanging weight less in my seat as the Tanseh reached the apogee of its curve and then accelerated savagely downwards. It was the roller coaster ride to beat all roller coasters and it went on and on for what seemed an interminable time. It was immensely exhilarating and I found myself bellowing in excitement as the ship, seemingly on rails, hurtled around the course. It must have lasted about six minutes and I was sorry to come to the end. I could not imagine how a human being could possibly pilot this course, and race against a dozen others without crashing or coming off the course. It would take superlative skill allied with superb reflexes to survive. Manera and I needed a couple of minutes before we could co-ordinate our limbs and stand up at the end. The Tanseh delivered us back to the Viewing Platform and we staggered off, holding on to each other to cries of encouragement and support from our Comrades.
“The Computer takes the course a lot faster than a pilot, so it’s a pretty tough trip,” explained Nastro. I felt pretty shaky but Manera seemed totally in control. In the meantime the race was gearing up to start. All eleven racers lined up in parallel, awaiting the starter. Whoever held their acceleration the longest would go into the first ‘S” bend in front, but go in too fast and they would not negotiate the bend. Any exit from the course would lead to a loss of points. There would be a series of races, with individuals being knocked out until only three were left, and there would be a final race to find a winner. The trick was therefore to conserve your energy over the first few races, just doing enough to stay in. In the meantime, the audience partied, drinking laughing and placing bets on the outcome. The sheer spectacle was hard to believe, with the enormous Laser course in front of us and the huge bulk of the Tanu behind us, it was a staggering scene.
“Do I know any of the Pilot’s?” I asked Manera.
“There are two of the Tanu’s crew, Santro and Farnita, who are very good,” she replied, “But the Champion is Commander Verisho, you remember, Captain Sametan’s Executive Officer. She is renown as a very skilled Verasoti, and we are very lucky to have her here.”
“So she is a dead cert to win then?” I asked.
“Santro and Farnita fancy their chances,” she replied. “And there is a big element of chance in Veraso, so it is possible for anyone to win.” I remembered Santro and Farnita, Santro was young and eager, very energetic and quick, and Farnita was an unattractive hatchet faced female, lean but with a curious stillness about her.
“So tell me,” I asked, “what is everyone betting with? I understood that there was no such thing as money in Hianja Society.”
“You understood wrong,” replied Manera. “The basic essentials of life are free, but everyone wants extras. If you want to travel, or live in a bigger apartment, then you must work and accumulate credits.”
“Is that right?” I said thoughtfully, “In that case, I have a plan to make some Credits.”
“Paul, you cannot make Credits,” she replied, “You are not Hianja, you do not exist on our Computer systems. Credits are purely electronic transactions, allocated and spent by Computer.”
“Then, I will earn them under your name, and place my bets under your name.” She smiled impishly at me.
“And what do you have to sell Mr Constantine. Your body?”
“Well.....,” I said thoughtfully..
“You will not get much for that,” she laughed mockingly. I held up a finger in admonishment.
“Watch an Earth entrepreneur at work,” I grinned. I unclipped the silver SES emblem from my lapel. It was just a chrome steel clip, with the emblem of the SES, a starship with Saturn and its rings in the background. Pretty, but quite worthless, I was sure that there were two or three others on the Lisa Jane.
“Attention everyone,” I shouted to the gathering around us, waiting for them to quieten and turn around.
“I have here, a unique and valuable emblem, which I am prepared to offer to the highest bidder. This is the Earth Space Exploration Service badge, from the very jacket of none other than Captain Paul Constantine, hero and adventurer, the first Human to make contact with the fabulous Hianja Civilisation. This emblem is unique and has enormous historical significance, and it can be yours. Start your offers please at..,” I paused and turned to Manera, “What is a good number of Credits to bet with?” She looked at me goggle eyed and uncomprehending. I repeated my question insistently.
“Um… I suppose, a hundred Credits,” she said baffled.
“Start the bidding at one hundred Credits,” I finished, waving the badge at the assembled company. People looked at each other in a baffled fashion, and I waited in vain for the first offer.
“Paul, what do you mean by ‘bid’?” asked someone.
“Yes, what do we have to do, I want that badge,” cried someone else.
“You just tell me how many Credits you are prepared to pay to buy the badge,” I explained. “The person prepared to pay the most will win.”. There was a babble of voices and someone shouted “Two hundred Credits” and then someone else three and so on in a bedlam of voices.
“Whoa, whoa!” I shouted holding up my hands. “You must do it one at a time and be recognised by me before the next person can make a bigger offer. One at a time please.” A forest of hands flew up and I pointed to one.
“Three hundred Credits,” she cried. The forest of hands stayed up, all waving insistently. I recognised the next and the next and it went on and on, climbing to three thousand Credits before people started to drop out. In the end, one individual, a slender fair haired female who I had not seen before, persevered to five thousand six hundred Credits.
“If there are no more bids,” I said in my best Auction house voice, “It goes to the lovely young lady in the green, your name is madam?” I asked politely.
 
; “Selani Konta Olansek,” she replied with a smile, stepping forward to claim her prize.
“Selani, let me see the colour of your money,” I said holding the badge aloft theatrically. She looked baffled and shook her head. She held out her hand and pulled her sleeve up to reveal what looked like a watch.
“My Slonavic,” she said. Manera stepped forward and held out her wrist on which there was a similar device.
“The Credits will go to myself,” she said. Selani placed her finger on Manera’s Slonavic and muttered a few words. Manera then did the same and the transaction was complete. I handed Selani the badge and she took it gingerly, an expression of awe of her face.
“Selani, I will write a note with my signature on some paper, a bit old fashioned I know, but it will prove that the badge is authentic. I will give it to you later,” I smiled at the small girl, it was obvious she was very young, and she gave me a shy smile in return.
“Thank you that will be most acceptable.”
“No, Thank you.” I grinned and she turned and walked quickly back to her friends holding the badge reverently aloft.
“Now we have some dosh to bet with.” I grinned at Manera. She was looking accusingly at me.
“Paul Constantine you are a bad Earthman, taking advantage of all these innocent Hianja like that.”
“Hey, that is a genuine badge off the great Paul Constantine’s very uniform, the one he wore at his first meeting with the lovely Manera, the most beautiful Hianja Princess. It is a piece of History.” I reinforced my point with a waving finger. She grabbed the same waving finger and baring pointy white Hianja teeth bit it, very hard. I gritted my teeth and tried very hard not to yell. She eventually released my injured digit.
“Manera, most beautiful Hianja Princess,” she said derisively, but I could see that she was pleased. Women, I thought, are the same the Universe over, suckers for a compliment!
In the meantime, as the start of the race approached, excitement was hotting up and bets were being placed in a flurry of waving arms. The bets were being taken by a Computer, each person’s bet being displayed on a large screen, which also showed the odds on the race participants.
“OK, what are the odds on Commander Verisho?” I asked.
“Only five to four,” she replied, “She is a strong favourite,” I had been impressed by the Commander on our meeting, she seemed a very alert individual.
“Are there odds on second and third?” I asked.
“Fifty percent odds on naming second place,” she replied. “Ten to one on Santro and twenty to one on Farnita.”
“OK, One thousand Credits on Commander Verisho for first place, and One thousand Credits on Farnita for second,” I said decisively.
“Santro is faster,” said Manera warningly.
“Yes, but Farnita is safer,” I replied with a confidence I did not feel. But there was something of the stillness of a snake about Farnita, a snake that could strike with lightning speed. I trusted my instincts. Anyway, it was not money I could spend in any other way.
“By the way,” I asked Manera, “Who was the young girl who bought my badge, Selani something?”
“She is the Captains daughter,” smiled Manera. I was startled, not expecting the Captain to have children.
“I hope the Captain won’t take offence at her daughter spending all that money,” I said worriedly.
“The Captain can afford it,” replied Manera, “and I think the badge will be worth a lot more back home,” she added.
“Aha!” I exclaimed, “And you were accusing me of robbing the girl.” Manera grinned.
“Come, let’s place our bets, the race is starting in a few seconds,” Manera raised her hand and talked into her communicator for a few seconds and our bets then flashed up on the view screen with the others. There was a raised hubbub of voices when they appeared and a few heads turned in our direction.
“Hey Paul, do you know something we don’t about the lovely Farnita,” shouted Batsano.
“I am a good judge of women,” I shouted back, winking knowingly.
“Yes, but are you a good judge of pilots?” he replied, with a laugh. Flashing numbers appeared on the view screen and then the sound of a musical horn announced the start of the race. We could see the eleven racers clearly, separating them by the coloured numbers on the sides of their craft, but the view screens around the lower part of the walls of the Viewing Platform showed close-ups of all the racers and their positions. Santro had taken an early lead and went into the ‘S’ bend first. He negotiated it smoothly and I began to feel I had made the wrong choice. The Commander was in second place and Farnita was at the back.
As the race progressed it became apparent that Farnita was playing it safe, and sure enough her strategy paid off as first one then two other craft came off the course, fortunately missing the Laser Generators. They continued the race to finish, but their penalty points put them out. Santro finished first with a polished performance, but the Commander looked ominous, holding her distance easily and seemingly flying well within herself.
The second race lined up, now only eight craft were in, and five would drop out on this race, so this was the crunch. Again Santro took the lead and the Commander was second, and again Farnita was last. But this time, she began to pressurise the racers ahead of her, passing one then two quite easily and sitting on the tail of the third from last. As she approached a steep bend, she moved ahead, then moved over to take her line into the bend, forcing the Tanseh behind her to brake and fall back, which also interfered with the two Tanseh behind her. She was now clearly fifth, but needed to get into third position to qualify for the final. The two ahead of her were also dicing for third, so this was a dangerous problem for her. I was afraid that she had left it too late, but I was wrong. Her tactic was to badger the other two in front, coming level and then falling back, trying to break their concentration and take their ‘line’ through the bends. The inevitable happened, while manoeuvring through a series of tight bends, number three and four collided and hurtled off the course. She sailed in a comfortable third. I accepted the congratulations of the assembled company with due modesty, almost as if I had flown the course. But Santro and the Commander had put in a totally solid performance and I doubted Farnita’s ability to discomfort them.
“Paul, you are a good judge of a Pilot,” conceded Batsano, “That was a brilliant performance by Farnita.”
“Well, Santro and Commander Verisho are very fast.” I replied. “Can Farnita outmanoeuvre them?”
“If I knew the answer, I would put ten thousand Credits on Farnita,” he laughed.
The final three lined up for the last race and the audience held their breaths for the start. The musical horn blared and they were off. This time, Commander Verisho showed her true class by holding her line and speed a fraction of a second longer than the other two. She went into the bend first and the crowd cheered and gasped in anticipation. Her control through the complex ‘S’ bend was superb and she came out well clear of the other two. But Santro was second and Farnita looked well behind. Turn after turn the Commander piled on the pressure, showing her true class and the other two tried valiantly to stay with her. This was now a race for second and Farnita again used the same tactics as in the previous race. But Santro was no slouch and it became a thrilling dog fight, each racer trying to outmanoeuvre the other or throw them off track.. Her tactic was to try and bluff him, accelerating violently to try to pass him on open stretches and then braking to throw him off his line. And then the audience gasped at her audacity and skill. She actually rammed him from behind as they were going into a bend. This pushed Santro off his line and he skidded off the course, just clipping the outer line of lasers. But it was enough to earn him a small penalty and although they both finished neck and neck after a victorious Verisho, Farnita had it by a few milliseconds.
“But is that legal?” I asked Manera.
“Yes,” she replied, “You see, a manoeuvre like that is so difficult to per
form at high speed that it is just as likely to put both the contestants out of the race, and usually does.”
“So I am a rich man?” I asked.
“Oh, not rich, but you can buy a small holiday home on an airless asteroid,” she laughed.
It seemed that the end of the race did not herald the end of the party, because everyone then proceeded to get pickled on Hianja happy juice. A number of adventurous souls went off to try their luck on the course, with the automatic Computers keeping an ‘eye’ on them to ensure that they did not damage themselves or expensive equipment. The brave contestants returned to be feted by their fans and to get equally pickled. It seemed that I had the dubious honour of having the largest winnings on the bets, which I modestly put down to beginners luck. But I did congratulate the last three contestants, particularly the daring Farnita who had won me a substantial amount. She was very curious about why I had bet on her, knowing absolutely nothing about the race and the contestants. I paused to consider my answer carefully.
“You look the sort of individual who has a strong desire to win,” I said carefully. She looked at me impassively. I waited curiously, had I offended her I thought?
“You can tell that by just looking at me?” she asked. Damn I thought, I have got myself into a corner. How could I tell her that I thought she looked plain and unattractive, one of these intense females to whom success is essential for their self esteem. What a sexist idea anyway, I was ashamed of myself for thinking it. But I had been right, she had shown determination and a will to win. I shook my head.
“It was just a guess, call it instinct. It was probably just good luck,” I smiled self effacingly. To my relief she smiled back and nodded.
“Thank you for your support, my reputation as a Verasoti has been enhanced today.”