by Mars Dorian
A service bot approached the table and targeted Rosco. It too was branded with the company’s blue and yellow logo. Rosco wondered if every bot and tech within the facility was also developed by Daystellar. “Sir, it’s time for the medical check-up.”
“Now?”
“You’re going to launch soon. We need to make some final adjustments to ensure maximum compatibility with the ship’s tech.”
“Fine.”
Rosco moved up and said goodbye to his new team. “I guess I see you all later. Stand tight.”
They sat rather loosely and seemed more worried about themselves. Except for the soldier of course—Yeltzin bolted up and saluted. “I’m looking forward to serving with you, sir.”
Rosco nodded and left the commons section with the bot. They entered the medical bay nearby, which meant the facility wasn’t as big as he had thought. The gate slid open and antiseptic mint scent touched Rosco’s nostrils—it was neither pleasant nor repellent… just artificial. The room boasted hi-tech med equipment and an adaptable lounger in creamy white.
“Please sit down, sir.”
Rosco sacked into the lounger and felt its form adapting to his back. The bot began to explain the medical process. “I’m going to inject a Daystellar nanobot formula—”
“Nanobots?”
“These new generations of narnites will maximize oxygen supply to your cells and limbs, and enhance nutritional transportation. The payload and capacitor parts of each nanobot have been refined by renowned Daystellar engineers.”
The bot primed a gun-shaped syringe, cabled to an oval canister.
“The functions of your nanobots will be programmable by techtoos that Ekström will provide during the operation.”
Rosco heard about them; heck, even ICED used techtoos. They were basically tattoo layers made out of graphene reinforced fungus with nanochips, programmable for different body-altering functions. Once applied to one’s skin, they would change the behavior of the nanobots rushing through the bloodstream. In short, they were upgrades that increased a human’s effectiveness on every level, just like regular implanted augmentations, but not nearly as intrusive. The nursebot looked for a popping vein and aimed the tiny tip of the syringe-gun.
“It’s not going to hurt.”
“I’m a big boy.”
Rosco watched as a million micro-robots were injected into his bloodstream. Of course there was nothing much to see—the nanobot solution looked like regular water with a silver tinge. But he could feel a sparking sensation brimming through his veins. He even got a little high on an electronic level.
“It’s time to apply the basic techtoos.”
The bot opened a slim case of freshly produced layers from the nearby 3D printer and attached the transparent, flimsy techtoos onto Rosco’s neck, chest, and stomach. Each one added their main functions, such as oxygen consumption efficiency, solar radiation-caused cancer cell deconstruction, and nutritional intake reduction. The lines between organic humans and androids seemed to blur by the months. Rosco wondered how long it would take before humans like him became fully-fledged Newtype like eQuip. It was going to happen sooner than later.
The nursebot emptied his syringe-gun and patted Rosco’s naked shoulder. “It is done. You’re now fully optimized for your long-term space travel.”
Rosco couldn’t feel the difference yet, but that would change soon. Tiny robots changing your metabolism and circulation had to be felt at some stage.
“Don’t tell me I have to pay for it.”
“Do not worry, sir. The nano-injection and techtoo appliance are part of Daystellar’s premium health coverage, of which you’re now a part of. Because at Daystellar, we care about customers and employees alike; your health is our wealth.”
Taken straight from the PR book of cringe-worthy one-liners; every bot unit in Daystellar’s arsenal seemed to promote company propaganda part-time.
“What now?”
“I’ll guide you to the preparation room where you will put on your astrogear for the operation. Your team mates are already checking in.”
The nursebot helped Rosco up and guided him toward the door. “And after the gear prep, you’ll be ready for the big launch. Hundreds of millions of humans from three colonies and Earth are glued to the big media event.”
Three colonies and Earth?
No pressure.
ICED sharing his discharge on their channel was bad enough, but having his face shown across the solar system was the next step of public awkwardness. Maybe that was the downside of the operation, to become a temporary media whore who had to drool over all things Daystellar.
“Please tell me I don’t have to put up a spiel.”
The bot released an affirmative beep. “Your presence will be noteworthy enough.”
That was unfortunately true…
22
CEO Lo-Skova took the media party to the hangar. Rosco counted three dozen representatives with their multi-gear and bot assistants flocking around the majestic vessel. The cam-droids whirled around the DSS Vanguard and simulcasted the footage. The hyper-res recording glistened in glorious Tri-D.
Rosco checked his comm and saw every major news outlet on Mars reporting about the virgin flight. And the red planet wasn’t the only one swooning—Earth, Moon, and Venus focused on the biggest public Daystellar event since the asteroid disaster. PR personnel had built a stage in front of the DSS Vanguard, perfectly lit to allow for stellar recordings.
Lo-Skova owned the hangar hall with her coordinated moves. The woman clearly enjoyed being in the spotlight; she answered every question—even the tough ones—with wit and confidence. She avoided breathing into the amplifier and cleared her throat. “Ladies, gentlemen, and bots, please welcome the crew of the Vanguard.”
The PR bot showed the blue carpet line which the team was supposed to walk on. Ming went first, followed by Yeltzin, the doctor, and then Rosco as Lo-Skova introduced each member to the media. “Say hello to Doctor Ming Brakemoto, revered xenologist and decryptor.”
Clap, clap, clap.
“Yeltzin Stabovsky, security officer and heavy machine operator.”
Rosco smirked. So that’s how they introduced the soldier. Anything else would have probably been too offensive—literally.
“It’s an honor to provide protection for this astounding crew,” Yeltzin said.
He flexed his mountains of biceps and elicited chuckles from the audience.
Ekström entered the stage next but the PR crew made sure he didn’t say a word. The engineer could only wave his right hand before Rosco himself entered the spotlight of attention. He hated the spectacle and wished to fast-forward the event, thinking,
Someone get me out of here.
Lo-Skova tapped his shoulder like a long-lost friend. “And here is our captain of the crew, the magnificent Rosco Tellride, former hero of the ICED fleet and now the pioneer of frontier space.”
Rosco received most of the applause. Two cam-droids steered away from their Vanguard orbit to exclusively focus on him. Rosco forced his mouth wrinkles to go up when the limelight blinded him.
“Hi-ya.”
Only the humming of the cam-droids and the amplifier remained. Rosco was so busy worrying about his crew and mission, he had forgotten about his one-liner. Someone should have prepared a media kit for him.
“What can I say—I not only break criminal refineries but also frontier space.”
Fail.
Rosco regretted that abomination of a statement even as it tumbled over his lips. Too bad he didn’t have access to a rewind button, because that stupid remark would be syndicated throughout the colonies. Mixed sounds echoed from the audience which meant he truly had delivered a downer.
Lo-Skova clapped her fine hands with a nervous smile and demanded the spotlight again. “I can honestly say I’ve never before met such a capable and motivated crew in my life. If these five remarkable individuals can’t reach the rim, no species can.”
The CEO dove back into her passionate spree and raved about the ship’s technology.
Blah, blah, blah.
That’s how it sounded to Rosco as he stood in line next to this new crew, trying hard not to look bored out of his goddamn mind. Out of the right corner of his eye, he observed his crew’s faces. Yeltzin seemed nervous but forced himself to look presentable; Ming clearly enjoyed the attention as she showcased her straightened teeth—she had even repositioned herself for the perfect camera angle. And Ekström? Bodily present, mind offline; probably floating on a different stratosphere. Or maybe the engineer’s membrane was busy creating a new algorithm for his many tech toys.
What a ragtag team, Rosco thought. He hoped that these ‘special’ individuals behaved like pros once the operation was underway.
When Lo-Skova introduced the Newtype, who was basically the other half of the ship, the ceremony came to a climax.
It was boarding time.
Finally.
The crew entered the DSS Vanguard through the ramp vessel provided by the hangar personnel. Rosco stepped in last. The second he was about to pass the hatch frame, Lo-Skova touched his shoulder and turned him around, back to the media front. Four cam-droids circumnavigated them like birds of prey.
Dozens of media units glued their eyes and optical sensors to the two people now standing in front of each other.
“Remember the mission goal, Captain; I want Daystellar to be associated with contacting the first alien race. You’re going to be the hero who puts us in the history books,” Lo-Skova whispered in Rosco’s ear.
“I’ll do my best.”
The CEO grinned her charming smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do better. Be the projectile that penetrates every boundary.”
“I’m going to be a Rosco rocket.”
“That’s the pioneer spirit.”
For the first time, Lo-Skova hugged him. The crowd cheered, the cam-droids hovered closer and the CEO’s last words echoed through Rosco’s ear channels.
“Remember—when you reach the rim, the frontier fights back.”
23
Rosco followed the team through the membrane-corridors and reached the dome chamber in the middle of the vessel, which was the prototype’s bridge. The pod-like seats fanned around the core command terminal with one chair being elevated. It looked like a hi-tech throne.
“That’s the captain’s seat,” eQuip said. “Your position allows for the best supervision of the bridge. I will act as your XO and astral navigator and do whatever you command me to—within reason and mission perimeters, of course.”
Rosco whistled. eQuip looked far more cooperative than the shills back at ICED. He would finally have complete control over a ship instead of kowtowing to an incompetent superior. The initial worry over the team’s quirks faded away. Confidence warmed his veins like faux honey paste as Rosco embedded himself into the capsule seat and watched his crew members do the same. The technology adapted to his spine as eQuip took control over the central terminal and did a quick status check-up. She projected the results on the inner walls of the domed bridge across from Rosco and the crew. The 360 degree surround view was impressive, but he wondered whether so much vision would distract him.
The Newtype must have had read his mind. “Do not be concerned,” eQuip said from her terminal. “We can blend out any view that’s too distracting for you, Captain.”
A blink later, only 180 degrees of the cockpit remained visible, with the rest of the inner dome tuned out in black.
“Thanks to its many optical sensors integrated into the exterior hull, I still know what’s going on around the ship. Remember that this is a biomorphic ship which is linked to my neocortex.”
Mind-blown wasn’t the right phrase, but it was the first that came to his thoughts. Rosco wanted to make love to that ship—it was a boy’s wildest tech dream come true.
The crew finished syncing to their pods and looked at the captain with expecting eyes.
“Well, are you ready for take-off, eQuip?” he said.
“All systems go,” she said from her terminal.
The Newtype ignited the booster system of the thrusters. The fusion reactor roared to life. Rosco could feel a faint vibration jamming through his pod-seat. It reminded him of an ergo bed with massage function. eQuip went full ship-mode.
“Fusion cores activated. Drive is online. Sub-thrusters and main thruster boosting up. Launch initialization complete in T-minus forty-five seconds.”
The clamp arms cut off from the ship’s anchor points and retracted into the hangar ground. The ramp carrier disconnected from the ship’s hatch and drove away. The crowds stepped back and oohed in amazement as the reactor of the ship droned on. The ground rail beneath the Vanguard propelled the ship forward like a cargo container on a conveyor belt. The first airlock opened up and welcomed the ship and its crew inside. Inside the decompression center, the gates shut behind the ship and lights blinked on the giant chamber’s rear until the final airlock slid sideways. Mars’ foxy atmosphere flooded the bridge dome. eQuip dimmed the transparency levels of the hull to prevent eye damage. She made the spaceship levitate over the rocky Martian ground. On his side display, Rosco watched the back view of the ship, where the domed Ares City began to shrink.
Goodbye, sexy city.
It’s been short and sweet, but I’ll be back soon.
Mixed memories returned to Rosco’s consciousness. Snippets from his childhood displaced by his time at the ICED military academy; it was tough growing up on Mars, but the harsh colony life steeled the character he carried today. A personality hopefully powerful enough to deal with whatever the rim was going to throw at him.
During the ascension, eQuip updated the crew. “Entering Mars’ sub-orbit.”
Hundreds of ships traversed the realm between the thin atmosphere and the universe’s void. Most of which either followed the safest and shortest trajectories to the other colonies or targeted one of the many space stations surrounding the ruby planet. Rosco had experienced it a gazillion times, but the transition still gave him the creeps. It was like shifting into a dimension filled with promises of adventure and mystery.
“Commencing sublight speed flight sequence,” eQuip said as she increased the power outlet of the main cores.
The black void greeted Captain Rosco Tellride. He only had been away for a couple of sols, but even that was too long. Rosco clapped his hands like Lo-Skova and upped his voice. “Crew, it’s time to kick the frontier’s ass.”
Lieutenant Yeltzin, seated to the lower left of Rosco, said, “Let’s hope we don’t have to kick anyone’s ass.”
The captain pretended he didn’t hear him and focused on the massive inner dome screen of the bridge. The universe sparkled in hyper res. Distant stars glowed like cereal rings in the cosmic soup. “Vanguard,” Rosco said under his breath, “you’re going to be my return ticket to ICED.”
24
“Entering sublight speed,” eQuip said.
The g’s started to push. Even inside the prototype ship, Rosco and his crew couldn’t just sit in their pods when going FTL.
“TemCom Drive accessible in T-minus twenty-four minutes, local ship time.”
Time for the captain’s first commands.
“Crew, I don’t know you very well and you probably don’t know me, apart from those ICED news snippets some of you have might seen. But we are all pros hired by one of the biggest corporations in the solar system. Our mission is to land on exoplanet Grisaille and initiate contact with the alien race, if possible.”
Of course everyone knew the operation’s goal, but Rosco wanted to make sure everyone was on the same channel. Repetition helped build rapport.
“I’m looking forward to an exciting and promising collaboration. We don’t know what the unknown will bring, but whatever it will be, it won’t be boring.”
Some line he once read in a second-rate book. It fit the situation.
“I liked that metaphysical touch at the en
d,” Yeltzin said.
Doctor Ming Brakemoto talked for the first time since the launch. She had been awfully quiet, which seemed detrimental to her personality.
“Let’s hope we’ll encounter a peaceful and smart alien race.”
Rosco glanced at eQuip; she looked like an elf summoning the digital spirits inside a mechanical heart. She smiled and seemed to emit an angelic glow, but Rosco knew what came next.
“It’s time, sir.”
He nodded with pressed lips. The worst part of space travel was about to begin—getting creamed. Thank tech he wore a smart uniform and carried next-gen nanobots in his body that would help him deal with the torture. His words stumbled over his lips like loose cargo debris. “Activate it.”
The chair pods transformed into hi-tech coffins; cables from the ground pumped the bluish anti-G cream into the pods and filled them up in two breaths. Lieutenant Yeltzin stepped into his first and dove down into the liquid. The engineer and Dr. Brakemoto followed without hesitance. Amazing how fearless they entered their stasis. Rosco had believed he was the only one with the interstellar travel experience.
eQuip looked at him. “Sir?”
“Yeah.”
“While you remain in stasis, I will add the ship’s schematics and basic instruction manual to your passive-learning sequence, including its component arrangement and arms arsenal.”
Learn while you sleep… literally.
A technology ICED and educational systems around the colonies had used to triple learning speeds. Info bits were channeled through nanobots and directly fed to the brain while the consciousness cooled down in anti-g stasis.
“Go ahead.”
He stepped into the oxygenated anti-G cream of his command pod and allowed the liquid to flood his lungs. Despite the vast amount of oxygen inside, it still felt like drowning in water. The pod automatically closed and imprisoned Rosco inside the coffin. He whirled around as his desire to breathe fresh air was thwarted by the constant intake of the liquid. Rosco wanted to break free and hit the inside walls with his fists, but no sound could escape his flooded lungs. He could barely open his eyes. Twisted logic; to survive the FTL drive, he needed to drown. Rosco needed to embrace the artificial cream that now took control over his body. Rosco’s heartbeat lowered. The liquid seemed to become thicker but he could finally breathe it.