Law's End

by Glenn Douglass

  Noting Greene's expression as she took the cockpit view in Kassad corrected his passenger with a chuckle, "No, you are ready now."

  Greene rolled her eyes at the quip more than a little annoyed at the delays that the rescue operation had already suffered she noted, "And yet we're still here."

  "We're waiting on the final check of a port safety inspection." Kassad explained pointing to the virtual cockpit window that showed heavy equipment on thick metal arms extending from the hanger walls to skim along the outside of the Sabha's hull. "I've trained the loader well but we wouldn't want any of that gear you brought aboard rolling through a bulkhead."

  Greene observed disbelievingly, "You have a trained machine and an animal as crew."

  Nodding amiably Kassad replied, "Yes, and now I have a sarcastic passenger."

  "You're going to have an irate passenger if we don't get moving soon."

  Ignoring the comment Kassad checked departure status with the tap of a key and inquired, "So what's all the equipment for? I know about the medical pods, but what's in the cases?"

  "System's monitoring equipment." Greene explained. "They'll provide a feedback loop checking the status of equipment. They can even cut off power to systems that may become dangerously unstable."

  It made a certain amount of sense to Kassad to monitor prolonged exposure of systems. "I take it that you'll be attaching those to life support, data, and thrust systems?"

  With a shrug Greene said, "They didn't take long to set up."

  And it went without saying that Greene preferred to work on systems that weren't actively in use. That was one of the rules her husband had always tried to impress on her even before they were married. Of course she hadn't had much cause to work on equipment herself in recent years, and this had been an excellent stretching of those mental muscles.

  In disapproving tone Kassad chided her, "Really you should tell the captain before making changes to any systems."

  Trying not to be annoyed at what she saw as petty bureaucratic niggling Greene asked, "Why?"

  It was sometimes difficult for Kassad to remember the startling shift in perspective that deep space work had brought him. The way those living their planned and managed lives secure in the belief that there was a place for everything and everything was in its place. The reality was that their personal electronic assistants managed everything behind the scenes to present that illusion. So extensive was the ability to forecast and plan for world based events that only rarely did things fall apart in such a way that people had their routines interrupted.

  "The answer is because a captain is legally responsible for the condition of his ship." Seeing that Greene was unimpressed by the answer Kassad elaborated, "If we get stopped by a custom's patrol they're going to ask me if there have been any changes to equipment from what is listed in the registry. If you make changes I'm the one responsible. If I don't know about the changes then I'm derelict in my responsibilities. A lot of polities will take your ship for that sort of thing."

  It still didn't make much sense to Greene who shook her head saying, "It's a strange life you have out here."

  "No," Kassad explained patiently, "it's straightforward and simple, but different. There's never any confusion as to who is responsible for what and when." Although Kassad noted mentally that when one worked alone things were even simpler. "To prevent any future faux pas just ask before making any changes to ship's equipment."

  Dismissively Greene replied, "You just worry about getting us to Law's End."

  There was a lot that Kassad was willing to let go unanswered for the amount of money this job promised and so he turned his attention to the task at hand. "Beckstine Ground Control, this is the Sabha, berth Seven A, with clearance Three Romeo Oscar Juliette, requesting taxi instructions to priority orbital path."

  Offhandedly Kassad wondered if this were the third Rescue Operation clearance granted that day or for the operational cycle of the starport. A Romeo Oscar Juliette designation let everyone know in the most legal way possible what the Sabha was up to. Anyone glancing at their cockpit or bridge navigation display would see the letters in red over the Sabha's sensor track making everyone aware this was not some routine cargo run or tourism jaunt.

  The disembodied voice that answered was firm enough to represent a veteran operator or an artificial purpose built construct. "Sabha, this is Beckstine Ground Control. You are granted clearance to departure track India. Be aware of heavy cargo haulers in transit above your track. Contact Orbital Traffic Control for clearance to orbital path. Good luck Sabha."

  The world side starport of Beckstine had too much traffic to get to know the people running it on the personal basis that most small operators like Kassad depended upon. It was also large enough and dealt with enough traffic that preferential treatment for preferred customers was of dubious value anyway. Even a designated rescue operation only got the Sabha moved to near the front of the waiting list for the designated off-world transit pathways. Although everyone recognized the importance of a rescue operation it couldn't force everyone to stop what they were doing with this much traffic in play.

  For Kassad the big question raised by all of this was whether they would grant the designation lightly. It was worth knowing if a shrewd ship's captain could get such head of the line privileges even if their holds were packed with commercial exports. It was the sort of information that could win one port preference over another as a way station in the hundred thousand galaxies.

  Even without windows the full spectrum sensor display wrapping around the cockpit provided a better-than-eyes view of everything above, below, and around the Sabha. Lifting free of the hanger provided a dizzying panoramic of cargo traffic in route to and from the starport and the numerous industrial centers on the world. A receding series of bright green squares was painted over the view to indicate the approved transit corridor for the Sabha as a convoy of building sized cargo haulers passed overhead.

  Keying the communications channel to Ground Traffic Control one last time Kassad announced, "This is Sabha, tracking heavies, thank you Ground Control."

  On the other hand if the port made a habit of routing small traffic under large traffic it would be a mark against them. Large traffic produced large down forces that tended to buffet any vessels transiting below, with the possibility of inflicting expensive foreign object damage. Weaving within the designated traffic track the Sabha evaded the potential navigation hazards from above as she made her way to the designated orbital pathway.

  Arriving at the departure zone Kassad switched channels, "Beckstine Orbital Control, this is Sabha clearance Three Romeo Oscar Juliette, holding at departure track India, outbound and awaiting instructions."

  Of course the computer systems would do all the work of scheduling and plotting traffic. It was even questionable if the voices Kassad was interacting with were synthesized or an indicator of an actual buffer between transiting ships and the machinery that routed them. Typically large population worlds keep part of their population employed in these jobs while less populated worlds relied completely on automation. Then again in the hundred thousand galaxies virtually anything was possible and very little of it would have surprised Kassad.

  A new voice crackled into being in the cockpit, "Sabha, you are cleared to depart via orbital track India, contact System Traffic Control prior to orbit. Good luck."

  It was the second 'good-luck' and it put Kassad in mind of a very natural reaction from a sentient being reacting to a rescue mission instead of a machine response, but Misses Greene interrupted his pondering by saying, "It certainly is a lot of work to get off a world."

  Smiling at the uninitiated comment Kassad angled the Sabha's bow up into the virtual corridor to orbit. With the shift in ship's orientation the world's gravity was now at their backs and pulled them more firmly into their seats. Balanced on the reactionless drive in this way Sabah only yielded slightly to the world's winds.

  Above them the star strewn nighttime sky o
f Beckstine was reduced to a featureless dark blue by the artificial lighting from below. Like most of the worlds their species had settled this one was a gas giant's moon far from the system's sun. From here even if it were directly overhead the local star would be difficult to pick out from more distant stars. Beckstine depended on artificially generated lighting to provide what terrestrial life had evolved to depend on, but it was never enough to turn the sky more than a dark shade of blue.

  With his smile turning mischievous Kassad casually inquired, "Is this your first time in the cockpit?"

  Before Greene could get a single word of response out Kassad throttled up. The abrupt acceleration crushed both of them more deeply into their acceleration chairs forcing the unformed words from Greene's mouth with a huff. Even Canis in his dog sized acceleration bed wheezed a protest against the sudden pressure.

  It was more acceleration than was needed, and much more than was routine, although it did reduce the time to orbit significantly. Most passenger liners would take an easy if slow departure acceleration to keep their customer's comfort at a maximum. The full power burn of Sabha's engines produced more force than the average citizen of the hundred galaxies was ever likely to experience.

  Even under the heavy acceleration it took minutes to wrest free of atmosphere and accumulate enough speed to defy the body's gravitational pull. Around the Sabha the milky white pressure wave its rapid climb had generated began to dissipate and fade. As the increasing distance weakened gravity's hold on the Sabha the thrust was reduced until they were lying on their backs in a comfortable single gravity worth of acceleration.

  As Greene recovered Kassad keyed the communications circuit to a final departure channel. "Beckstine System Traffic Control, this is the Sabha clearance Three Romeo Oscar Juliette, request routing to egress jump departure."

  Unsurprisingly it took almost a minute to receive a response. "Sabha, this is Beckstine System Traffic Control. You are cleared to egress point Gamma. Have a safe trip."

  System Traffic Control was always the busiest part of any traffic control network. Their responsibilities usually extended out to the edge of their system and so integrated their work with that of system defense and law enforcement in addition to any ongoing mining or construction projects. Even under ordinary circumstances they had to identify the correct translation scheme for each new ship, and manage coordination with communications delays of as much as an hour.

  As the Gamma egress point lighted on the cockpit display Kassad smiled approvingly at its nearness. "Beckstine System Traffic Control, this is Sabha in transit to egress point Gamma; thank you and take care." There was no response and Kassad didn't expect one.

  Warp drives only functioned reliably at distance from a given gravity-well. In spite of this limitation warp drives were the preferred method of travelling faster than light. Along the main economic corridors (mains) that existed in between galaxies, and then wherever there were barren stretches within a galaxy it was rare to see jump capable vessels.

  With a long reset time between jumps and a history of safety issues jump drives had largely been relegated to a role as a secondary system. Equipping a jump drive allowed a ship to reach deeper into a galaxy. Using a jump drive in concert with a warp drive made for complex but versatile navigation that could reach virtually any spot in the hundred thousand galaxies.

  Unlike warp drives the physics behind jump drives allowed them to function even within a world's atmosphere. Due to the reality that a jump drive would take everything within its radius of effect to its destination point most polities restricted their use. Usually they were only to be used in certain designated areas in a policy that incidentally resulted in carrying away any debris that might have been in that area and improved the overall safety of orbital navigation. For the same reason ingress too near an orbital zone was frowned upon, often to the extent of incurring fines.

  Rubbing the spots out of her eyes Greene complained, "You could have warned me about that acceleration."

  With only a hint of amusement in his voice Kassad agreed, "Yes, it seems we need to work on our communication."

  As if commenting in response Canis barked and then purposefully worked his way down the ninety degree shifted cockpit access-way.

  Greene inquired, "Where's he going?"

  Straight faced and distractedly, as he double checked the math for their journey to Law's End, Kassad explained, "Post lift off inspection."

  It was something that Canis had been trained to do before coming to crew with the Sabha. Most of the routine safety checks were made to be quickly and easily accomplished which placed them well within a dog's abilities. Pressure indicators fitted to all airtight doors could be checked by sight, and the dog's superior hearing could easily detect whistling of pinhead sized hull breaches that would be inaudible to most species.

  Half thinking that Kassad was joking with her Greene inquired, "You do realize that Canis is an animal."

  "Don't tell him that. Canis is more people than animal." Kassad remarked, and not for the first time lamented that the habit of keeping pets had fallen out of fashion thousands of years before he'd met Canis, on the other hand Canis was hardly a pet. "Dogs are a partner species, specialized to the task by tens of thousands of years of breeding and cohabitation. I admit I acquired Canis for a lone illicit purpose, but I've grown to understand and appreciate his capabilities. The things Canis can't do, and that I can, have proven surprisingly minimal."

  Unbuckling from what had become more bed than chair Greene observed, "You sound like a post-species-ist from thousands of years ago."

  The briefly popular and influential post-species-ist movement had been borne out of the growing terrestrial understanding of non-terrestrial biology. As distinctions between life forms in the Terran eco-sphere grew ever more slight, in comparison to the rest of the universe, the idea that they represented a unified whole was inevitable. In the end the movement's insistence that the entire terrestrial biome had to accompany the species wherever it went was rudely debunked. Shortly thereafter the entire movement fell apart, its adherents being absorbed into less radical schools of thought.

  Kassad chuckled as he locked in his approval of the flight plan. "Most ideologies are built around some useful truth, even if they do get virtually everything else wrong." Turning away from his work Kassad addressed his passenger with a friendly smile, "I'll be throttling down to seventy percent gravity shortly. Why don't you settle in? We'll be maintaining this acceleration for the next few days in order to match velocity with the Law's End system, so you might as well get comfortable."

  Unbuckling and after a bit of stretching Greene returned to her quarters in stateroom number five. It was strange seeing the ship's interior tilted ninety degrees. Cleverly angled bulkheads and partitions meant that there were very few straight drops of more than a half meter. Even the dog managed to get around without noticeable difficulty.

  It helped that the Sabha was only putting out three quarters gravity in acceleration. With her cargo hold largely empty she was well below the reactionless drive's rated load and could have managed more. Under these conditions of constant acceleration even steep slopes felt gradual under Greene's feet as she worked her way to the stateroom assigned to her.

  Greene's stateroom reminded her more of an oversized coffin than a bedroom. It was an elongated box large enough to permit sitting up or stretching out lying down but little else. The bed was an elevated 'L' shaped mattress nestled into the corner where the floor met wall and where on landing their roles reversed. In the rear of the stateroom was a curtained off area to conceal the rude hoses and nozzles that composed a typical spacer's sanitation station. Everything needed to tend to bodily functions was efficiently provided aside from meal preparation which was available just outside in the hallway lounge combination.

  'Lounge/hallway', Greene reminded herself that was what the spacer's who travelled in ships capable of landing on a world's surface called it. An area's primary use, o
r a surface's use under acceleration, came first and its use when landed came second. Confusing as it had always sounded to her ears the terms floor/wall, ceiling/floor, and wall/ceiling made more sense now that she was living it. A life adapted to constant change where even up and down were rendered arbitrary states.

  Of course Greene had spent most of her youth in space, but that had always been on craft dedicated to work in space. The complexities involved in designing a craft to withstand atmosphere and gravity meant that most cargo and passenger haulers simply carried smaller craft to shuttle between surface and ship. Versatile all-in-one ships like the Sabha were almost exclusively the product of military design specifications.

  Greene found her luggage secured to the wall/ceiling framing a recessed video screen she guessed could be used for entertainment or communications. The small robot had attached all of her luggage to small fold out panels in what had been the ceiling. Now that they were under acceleration all of the luggage could be accessed easily and without the need to detach it.

  There was nothing left to do but wait. Stopping herself from going over everything that had happened in the past two years for the thousandth time Greene sat upon the mattress. Before long Greene's mind started dredging up the sequence of events over the past two years she was now so familiar with, and again she banished the thoughts. Looking around the small space she realized the short week long journey was going to be a long trip.