by Amy DuBoff
The dreaded freefall chamber. Saera clung to the wall, remembering her last unfortunate experience with Allie from a month before. The rest of her classes were going well, but she feared this new addition to her course schedule would be her undoing.
One by one, her classmates pushed off from the wall and landed on an opposite face of the dodecahedron. They made it look so easy, gliding through the air with their hands to their sides and touching down lightly on the far wall.
Saera was the sixth to go. With all eyes on her and her heart pounding in her ears, Saera pushed off toward the other side of the room. The moment she left the wall, she realized her flight was doomed.
With her tuck position off-balance, Saera was only three meters from her launch point when she began an uncontrolled tumble to the side. The forward momentum carried her across the room, but her feet were parallel to the wall and she had no way to soften the impact.
She slammed hard against the metal plating and ricocheted off at a forty-degree angle toward the side wall.
Agent Katz looked on with a frown but made no effort to intervene. The other Primus girls and boys covered their faces with their hands to hide their amused smirks.
Saera’s speed had slowed after the first impact, and she was able to grab a handhold on the side wall when she landed.
Her face burned. She kept her gaze down, not wanting to meet the eyes of her other classmates.
“What are you doing over there?” Katz called out. “Get back in line.”
Saera wanted to protest, but instead she took a deep breath and lightly pushed off the wall to head back to the group. Her speed and trajectory were better than the first attempt, and she was able to land safely with some help from her comrades.
She kept her head down for the rest of class, too embarrassed to talk to anyone.
As they filed out into hall after class, Caryn came up and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? That was a pretty hard hit.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Freefall really isn’t your thing,” Caryn commented.
“Well, I grew up on a planet that barely had a space program. It’s not like I had a lot of opportunity to practice.”
Caryn shrugged. “At least you don’t suck at math.”
“That’s something.” But I’ll need to be a lot more well-rounded if I’m going to get anywhere within the TSS.
Done with all of their classes for the day, they returned to their quarters to unwind for the night.
Saera took a shower before collapsing on her bunk. It was starting to feel like home after a month. The dynamics in the group were shaking out, and she was beginning to feel like part of the TSS community. Trying to blend in as much as possible, she was comfortably at the middle of the social structure. As promised, she was adapting to the foreign Taran technology. All of the advances that were only fantasy back home were right at her fingertips—gravity manipulation, galactic travel, telekinesis. It was nothing short of thrilling to wake up every day and have such limitless possibilities.
She only had fifteen minutes before the standard dinnertime, but it was the perfect opportunity to get in a quick nap so she’d be ready to tackle homework after dinner. Across the room, Elise was also resting on her bottom bunk.
As soon as Saera’s eyes were closed, Leila barged in.
“Early dinner tonight,” Leila announced.
Saera cracked her eyes open. “Now?”
“Yes, if you want to join us,” Leila said and left.
Saera looked over at Elise. “I guess we should go.”
Elise swung her legs over the edge of her bunk. “I don’t know why you bother to get along with her. She’s a tyrant.”
“We’re part of the same team. They expect us to get along.”
“Well, I hope ‘they’ take her personality into consideration before putting her on the Command track. I think she’d eat her crew alive. Possibly literally.”
Saera smiled. “Best we keep her fed, in that case. Come on.”
Saera and Elise met up with the others in the common room before heading to the cafeteria.
Being earlier than normal, the crowd was different than Saera had observed before. The people who were normally getting ready to leave as her group arrived were just sitting down for their meal, and other faces were entirely new.
Saera got in line with the others behind Caryn and worked her way through the buffet. As she was exiting the queue, Caryn froze.
“It’s him!” she hissed.
Saera followed Caryn’s gaze toward the door. Wil Sights had just walked in and was heading toward the cases with pre-packaged meals.
Saera instantly blushed, even seeing him at a distance. What’s wrong with you? Stop it. She took a slow breath.
The other girls were openly ogling. Wil seemed to be in his own world as he perused the refrigerated case.
“He has to be Sietinen. Just look at him!” Caryn whispered.
“I’m still not convinced the Dynasty would allow it, but he’s definitely highborn,” Leila whispered back.
Saera groaned silently and stared at her plate, not wanting to engage in the conversation. The same arguments were rehashed every time one of the Primus or Sacon girls spotted Wil—or “Sightings” as Caryn had coined, which Saera found to be disrespectful to puns everywhere. The girls from the inner colonies seemed particularly obsessed with the notion of a High Dynasty bachelor roaming the halls of TSS Headquarters. Whenever the topic came up, Saera made a point to keep her head down. She had been warned that an opinion on Taran political matters must be earned, so she could only imagine commentary on the relative attractiveness of Tararian nobles fell into the same category. No good would come of her mentioning what passed between them in their brief meeting. Besides, that had probably just been some bizarre side effect from the neural imprinting.
Still engaged in a heated whispering debate over whether Wil was High Dynasty or not, the girls started making their way toward a table at the center of the room.
Saera kept her focus on her plate. It’s all in your head. You’re invisible to him.
In her intent focus, Saera neglected to watch where she was going. When Caryn stopped at the table, Saera ran smack into her.
Caryn cried out in surprise as Saera’s tray struck her back.
Saera watched in helpless horror as her food launched into the air, heading directly into the path of a Junior Agent. No!
Before she could blink, the food froze in midair. The Junior Agent had his hand up. He flicked his wrist and the meal returned to her plate, though the items were mixed.
“I’m so sorry!” Saera exclaimed.
“Eyes up,” the Junior Agent said and continued on.
Caryn flashed Saera a dirty look and took her seat.
Face burning, Saera looked toward the cafeteria door and saw that Wil had turned to see what the commotion was about, watching her. Their eyes locked for a moment, but he tore his gaze away and exited.
Saera felt breathless. My luck, of all the people to witness that… She sighed and sat down next to Caryn. “I’m really sorry,” she reiterated.
“You’re becoming a danger to yourself and others,” Caryn quipped.
“Quite graceful,” Leila added.
“All right, all right,” Saera said as she stabbed her fork into her food.
“Well, look at it this way,” Leila continued, “she just improved the chances for the rest of us to attract a guy.”
Saera sighed loudly. “Not that I was trying to.”
“We saw you looking over at him, too” Elise chimed in. “No need to be bashful.”
“I—” Saera started to protest, but resumed eating instead, her face still warm.
“At least you have good taste,” Leila said. “Have anyone back home on Earth?”
Not that I’ll talk about with any of you. “No.”
“Please tell me you’ve at least been kissed!” Leila exclaimed.
“None o
f this is relevant,” Saera stated keeping her eyes cast down.
Leila finally started eating her own meal. “I’d pegged you for a prude.”
“You know nothing about me,” Saera retorted.
Caryn and Leila looked at each other, surprised. “She has some fight in her,” Caryn commented.
“Now if only we could direct that same passion to freefall maneuvering…” Leila said in her signature tone that straddled insult and friendship.
“That’s enough!” Elise interjected. “We’re supposed to get along.”
“Calm down. It’s all in good fun,” Leila countered.
“Easy for you to say,” Saera shot back.
Leila scoffed. “Don’t be so sensitive.”
I don’t need to take this from them. Saera stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sorry, we were just joking around,” Caryn said. “Stay.”
Reluctantly, Saera sat back down. I need to let the past go.
“Fine, change of subject,” Leila said, her face brightening. “Now what about that new TA in our astrobiology class?”
* * *
Wil felt a twang of sympathy as he ducked out of the cafeteria. Was I the one distracting her?
He couldn’t refute that there was something between them. His father was right about that. But, that was all the more reason he needed to stay as far away from Saera as possible.
Caeron was waiting right outside the door. “I heard shouting. Everything okay?” he asked, following Wil down the hall.
“Just a minor collision leaving the buffet line. Nothing to worry about.”
Caeron looked at the pre-packaged meal in Wil’s hands. “You’ve been eating alone an awful lot recently.”
Wil sighed. “Did my mother talk to you?”
“No, why?”
Wil shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just busy. I need to finalize these design specs. We’re coming up on the end of the competition.”
“I thought the competition didn’t matter?”
“It doesn’t, really,” Wil said. “But having a firm deadline makes me work harder.”
“Sometimes too hard…” Caeron said quietly.
“So my parents have talked with you!”
Caeron looked torn. “They may have approached me.”
Wil groaned. “Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?”
“We care about you.”
Wil shot him an exasperated look. “You barely know me. A year of following me around doesn’t count.”
“I care for Tararia’s well-being. I might not know you as a close friend, but I know what you mean to the world I love.”
He doesn’t know the half of it. “I’m perfectly fine. Tell my parents to back off.”
“I can’t exactly speak to them that way. A Lord and Lady—”
Wil groaned. “Not literally, Caeron.” He took a deep breath.
“I’ll leave you be.” Caeron dropped back five paces.
I can’t let anyone get too close. I need to be able to do what I have to in the war. Wil hurried the rest of the way back to his quarters. He was getting close to a breakthrough for the jump drive interface, he could feel it.
His dinner resting on his lap, Wil brought up the simulation files for the new jump drive interface. He stared at the model as it slowly rotated in front of him.
Looking at it with fresh eyes, he realized that half of the previous night’s work was wrong. “Ugh!” He deleted the code with a swipe of his hand.
Maybe I am working too hard. I shouldn’t be making mistakes like that. He felt drained.
Wil took a deep breath, letting the frustration dissipate. As he let his mind wander, he found himself thinking about Saera and the inexplicable connection between them. A spark just waiting to be unleashed.
“That’s it!” he murmured to himself. He swung the model around with his hand. The neural interface can send a flash to the pilot when the jump parameters are met. There was no need for jet pilots to use a graphic interface—they could just feel their way through it. He grinned. Now I just have to make it work.
* * *
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Banks said to Agent Volar, one of the navigation instructors. He sat down at his desk and gestured to the guest chair.
Volar took a seat. “Of course, sir. What can I do for you?” The Agent had put in his time with the Bakzen war and was one of the rare few who had been able to return to the primary Headquarters. Understanding the rift and the underlying structure from a mathematical standpoint was an asset when it came to educating the next generation, even if most of the principles were presented as theory rather than actuality.
“I’d like you to identify some students to train for plotting using the independent jump drive,” Banks requested.
“Isn’t Wil already training a group?”
“Yes, but it’s only fifteen. And you’re one of the only people here who knows that’s what they’re working on.”
Volar raised an eyebrow. “Are they picking it up?”
“Slowly. But fifteen Navigators isn’t nearly enough. I’d like you to see if there’s anyone in your Trainee class that might be able to take it on. Before the working design is announced in the design presentations.”
Volar looked pensive. “There might be a handful. What should I tell them?”
“We’ll just start out with some side assignments, see who shows aptitude. I’ll have Wil look over their work.”
Volar nodded. “Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“No, that’s all,” Banks replied. “Please do continue to keep this discrete.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll pass on the assignments.”
CHAPTER 7
Wil rushed into the classroom. “Sorry I’m late.”
The Initiates were swiveled around in their seats talking to each other.
“Is there any kind of policy where we get to go if the instructor doesn’t show up?” Bianca asked as she turned around.
Over the last month, she had proved herself to be one of the more forward students, never afraid to speak her mind.
“No, you’re expected to use it as study time,” Wil replied. “And I’m late because I wound up working all night and didn’t realize it was morning. I think I finally got it.”
“The nav system interface?” Greg asked.
“Yeah. What we went over in the last class clicked. I wanted to get it down while it all still made sense.” Wil glanced at the deactivated holoprojector. “You want to see it?”
The students leaned forward expectantly in their seats. “Yes!”
He smiled. It was gratifying to see them genuinely invested and interested.
Rather than a lecture format like most of the TSS navigation classes, Wil’s course had turned into more of a group brainstorming think tank. He found it surprisingly rewarding to share each new development with the students. They didn’t understand the deeper layers of the math—no one else did—but their questions forced him to assess problems from alternate angles. As a result, he’d been able to break through issues that had been plaguing him for months.
“Check this out,” Wil said, bringing up his latest model.
The simulated navigation interface hovered at the front of the class. Wil started a mock programming demonstration, showing how the system would work.
The students grinned.
“You got it,” Caitlyn said.
“Are you going to present it at the Junior Agent competition next week?” Jordan asked.
“It seems unfair,” Wil replied.
“You have to!” Greg encouraged. “Even as first year Trainees we heard about the Junior Agent design competition. After all the work you’ve put in, you need to just walk in and own it.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that when it comes to TSS politics,” Wil said.
“Come on!” Bianca encouraged. “We’ll back you up.”
They would, too. But their support would only take him
so far. They were comrades, but there was a limit to their place in his life. Students—colleagues, even. But not true friends. Unexpectedly, he felt a sudden pang of emptiness in his heart. It was easy to keep himself distant and alone, but he wasn’t happy. He realized the only time he’d felt fulfilled in recent memory was in the two brief moments he shared with Saera. No, I’m on my own.
Wil swallowed and surveyed his class. They all looked so excited for him. Admired him. He couldn’t let them down. “All right, I’m in. Now let’s work out the final kinks in the design.”
* * *
Cris eyed Banks. His motives were questionable. “Special assignments in advanced navigation, huh?”
“It seemed like the best way to proceed,” the High Commander confirmed.
“Why not wait until after Wil presents the independent jump drive in the Junior Agent’s competition next week?”
Banks shook his head. “We need to get ahead of it—maintain control over who learns the technology first. Some very well intentioned people with very low aptitude will likely volunteer if we wait. No need to hurt any feelings by turning them down.”
“Saying we pre-selected a group won’t avoid hurt feelings.”
“But people do understand protocol. We’ll keep the upper hand.”
“I think you’re overlooking the interpersonal dynamics,” Cris insisted. “The other Junior Agents take the annual competition as lighthearted fun. As it is, Wil walking in with an actual solution is going to rub a lot of people the wrong way. Once we add on a group of pre-selected Navigators—”
“They’ll just have to get over it.” Banks steepled his fingers.
Cris sighed. “I suppose they always do.”
“Just like Wil always finds a way to adapt. He’s really stepped up. After that initial fuss about the advantaged navigation class, he turned it around into quite a high-functioning group.”
“Yes, it worked out.” I suppose he was right to push Wil. This time.
“I’m curious what he’d do with a dedicated group to train.”
“That’s way too much to take on right now,” Cris said, firm.
“Not now, but in a few years…”
Cris crossed his arms. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”
“All right,” Banks yielded. “I’ll let Wil take the lead for now.”