Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  What else do you puzzle over?

  His words from before they linked came to mind. So relaxed—I see that now—your peace. But I cannot see the vibrancy.

  Playfulness stirred through the link. He had heard it before in her laugh, seen it in the mischief of her tilted glance and quick smile. She teased. Ah! I do not know if you really want to see that!

  But she let him see it, nonetheless. Or a sliver of what he termed vibrancy, for even that tiny glimpse was overwhelming. To correlate this indescribable experience, she led his thoughts to the nature of Plynteth, observed as he framed it within his world, resonated with the free flight and the power portrayed in his images.

  Vibrancy didn’t begin to describe this force. It was the cataract that burst from the cliff face and crashed down the canyon wall. It was the bird climbing to the crest of a thermal, diving, wheeling upward in great arcs, effortlessly powered by the momentum of its dive.

  In a way, the insufficient analogies saddened him. Nature could not capture this feeling, for it wasn’t truly a feeling. It was a flight of joy, powered by love. He longed to remember the nuances and depths of its majesty.

  Not to worry, she assured him. It will ever remain. Use the images to draw it back. She followed the waterfall he had imagined, to the river it formed, and swept a stream aside to wind lazily into quiet shade. There, she left him in the peace he had first witnessed, watchful and careful until the link was no more.

  Ghent let the moments stretch—let the memories settle. He could not speak yet, anyway. He knew better than to try to force words after a link so rich. It would have been pleasant to dwell in the images she left him with, but he still had duties to perform. He didn’t even know how long the link had lasted. Probably longer than he had time to spare. This reverie must end.

  “Thank you, Kena,” he said. “That was…amazing!”

  “You are most welcome.” Her faint smile meant so much more to him now. The corners lifted higher and the teasing note crept into her voice. “It was not what you were expecting, was it?”

  “Not at all! To think I worried about tiring you.”

  She chuckled. “Did I tire you?”

  “No. Oddly enough, you didn’t. How long was that?” He checked his computer to answer his own question. Another surprise.

  She shrugged. “Only a few minutes.”

  “I would have guessed twenty. Or even more.”

  Kena’s eyebrows rose. “Time is a rather interesting concept: no more significant than distance.”

  He suddenly understood what she meant, the reason why it had not mattered how far away Frethan was when she linked with him. The reason she could sense a person outside her quarters. So many other things. He remembered what Frethan had said about her skill in designing a dimensional slip course. Time no more significant than distance? That hinted at something he ought to realize about her, but couldn’t quite grasp.

  A sigh escaped as he stood. “Kena, I would love to stay all night and talk with you, but neither of us can.”

  “True. There will be another day.”

  “Rest well, Kena.”

  “I shall,” she whispered.

  If a sculptor sought to depict serenity, he would find no better model than Kena.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ghent awoke at the precise moment he had chosen. A short sleep, but no matter. He would have time for more soon. Twenty minutes before launch, he entered the bay on the second-level walkway, which partially ringed the vast room.

  Activity buzzed below him. Craft had been pulled from their storage positions. All three shifts of navigators were in the bay, as well as the scientists who would accompany them. Support crew scurried between them, completing final checks and responding to last minute orders.

  The alpha command ship stood ready near the bay doors. A cylindrical payload module separated the paraboloid navigation module and the primary drive. The reflective surface of the nav module’s transparent hull gleamed gold under the bay’s lights. By comparison, the white payload module looked mundane. A section of its hull had been lowered to form an access ramp. Delf stood on the ramp behind Netlyn, head and shoulders above her. The entire alpha crew clustered around them, listening to Netlyn’s instructions.

  Below Ghent, Kena also stood on her command ship’s ramp. The white mesh and inner control ring of an EVA belt contrasted with her black navigation suit and emphasized the curve of her waist. Could she seriously be considering extra-vehicular activities?

  The beta crewmembers stood around her, preoccupied with securing their EVA belts. Support crew moved among them, distributing belts to those who didn’t have their own and verifying that they were properly set. Hrndl jumped down from the ramp to assist a scientist who was having trouble getting hers configured for her race.

  Krdn came to stand beside Ghent.

  “EVA belts?” Ghent demanded. “Explain to me why the beta crew thinks they’ll be leaving their craft.”

  “They don’t. It’s a precautionary measure. Most of them think it’s unnecessary, but Kena has declared that she will fly no one to the large moon unless they are wearing life support field generators.”

  That made more sense. The shield of an EVA belt would deploy the instant pressure changed. Since they were designed for repairs, the field was configured to wrap the fingers individually. It was possible to use a console, even with the field deployed. Awkward to a novice, but workable.

  A member of the beta crew lifted the belt he was still holding and called up to Ghent. “Captain, will you tell Kena and Hrndl we don’t need these clumsy things?”

  Ghent emphasized each word. “You will obey every order they give you.”

  The scientist made haste to fasten his belt.

  “Any changes since I went to sleep?” Ghent asked Krdn.

  “Plans are essentially the same. The command ships may do some collecting as long as they can keep data streams open with the secondary craft.”

  “Did Delf or Kena name any groupings of their craft?”

  “Delf named pairs: red, green, blue, and yellow. Kena named quads.” Disapproval crept into Krdn’s voice. “Amethyst, sapphire, emerald, amber, and ruby.”

  Ghent shook his head. “I shouldn’t have expected Kena to choose a common designation. Do the gem names have significance?”

  “She says they are fitting names because of the crystals found in the beta crust sample she brought back. They are ordered according to the light spectrum from violet to red.”

  “I suppose that is a fitting choice for Kena. Any issues with the crew?”

  “Not with these two groups,” Krdn said. “Rnl is claiming cultural interference. He sends me incessant demands to wake you so he can issue a formal complaint.” The contempt in his voice explained why Ghent’s sleep had been undisturbed.

  Ghent snorted. “You may tell him I will see him when I have time—which will not be soon. Is Frdn causing any trouble?”

  “No. He’s been on duty half the night doing comm device checkouts. There is concern over the effectiveness of communication through the debris field.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ghent said. “You’ve kept minimal nav staff here, as I instructed?”

  “There are two navigators in Nav command and one in ex op command.”

  “Then, we’d better get to ex op ourselves. It’ll soon be time to open the bay.”

  Kena remained on her hatch ramp as her orders were carried out. Around her, hatch after hatch closed and sealed with a soft hiss. Netlyn and the alpha command crew had disappeared into their ship. Delf stood alone on the ramp, watching the last of his group seal their hatches.

  Kena could just make out Netlyn’s voice from within their craft. “Checkouts are complete. All craft have reported ready for launch.”

  “Acknowledged,” Delf said over his shoulder. He raised his voice and called to Kena. “We’re ready to exit.”

  He was way too serious. Kena drew on a couple Veet idioms, put her hands on her hips
, and struck an attitude. “Well, hoist your sails, then. D’you think my thumbs want to jig while you paddle out of my way?”

  This sally won her a lopsided grin, and Delf swung into his ship. The ramp rose behind him and sealed.

  Kena entered her ship and slapped the hatch control. The ramp rose and embedded into the hull. She checked the seal then said over her shoulder to Hrndl, “Tell ex op all beta ships are sealed.”

  Kena grabbed a handhold on the hull’s interior. While she waited for the gravitational field to release, she watched the eight scientists strapped into seats before their consoles. Good, they had all figured out how to re-form their couches to make room for the EVA units fitted against their backs. Remarkably small, those units were, but even a small pack would make acceleration painful if the couches weren’t adjusted.

  Thrayl answered a question from a colleague, already fulfilling the responsibility Kena had assigned him for coordinating the scientists’ work. Calm and dependable; and, according to Netlyn, he could track an object as well as a navigator. A couple of the others worried her a bit, but Thrayl could manage that issue, if need be.

  Within moments, Kena’s feet floated away from the floor. A few seconds later, the hull shuddered. The bay doors had opened and the vacuum had snatched at the waiting ships, making them strain against their anchors. Six of her crew took these changes complacently. The faces of the other two betrayed shaky composures, but they kept their lips clamped.

  Kena pushed away from the handhold. She pirouetted a turn and a half as she rose toward grips embedded in the high ceiling then propelled herself forward. She sailed through the navigation module’s airlock, entering the cockpit with her knees drawn up to her chest. Hrndl was already strapped into the right-hand couch. Kena extended her legs toward the other and eased away from the transparent ceiling. Drifting down, she slid her legs under the console and grabbed the floating lap belt. She secured it the instant she landed in her couch.

  “You make it look like a dance,” Hrndl said, closing the door, which was really the inner hatch of the airlock, but now served only to block sound between the two connected modules.

  “Zero G should always be considered a dance. Just as flying should be.” Kena secured her shoulder straps and pulled her console down close to her legs. “Any problems reported with checkout?”

  “None yet. Still waiting on two craft. How did our rookies take the transition?”

  “Pretty well. Leelee and Presh looked nervous, but game. I think they’ll do.” Kena watched the alpha command ship head out into the black void beyond the bay doors. Smaller craft followed it, spreading out to fly a four-point formation behind it. “There, now. Isn’t that as pretty as any dance you’ve ever seen?”

  Hrndl gave her a Grfdn smile and said, “A few weeks ago, all this talk of dancing would have gotten you a sharp reprimand for taking your responsibilities far too casually.”

  Kena grinned. “Beyond doubt, you’d have refused to fly with me.” The last checkout confirmation appeared on her display. She opened the comm channel to ex op and said, “Beta crew is fully checked out.”

  “Acknowledged. Stand by.”

  With very little to do at this point, Kena and Hrndl both gazed out of the transparent hull of the navigation module. The only obstructions to their view were four narrow struts. These served double duty, housing the module’s field generator and supporting the forward nav jets. The interior layout was also designed to give them maximum viewing area. Even the airlock doors and the floor between the couches were transparent. Kena could pull the low-profile console so close to her lap, the direction and power control sticks rested beside her thighs. Power reserves were located beneath her and Hrndl’s couches. Remaining systems were housed in enclosures directly behind them, on either side of the airlock. The three-dimensional scanning display was currently projected just above their feet, but it could also be superimposed on the hull, showing the long-range image in alignment with nearby objects.

  The last alpha craft slipped out of view. With no visible reference point, the blackness of space closed in like an ebony wall. They awaited the next command from ex op.

  Ghent’s voice said, “Kena, you are clear to launch.”

  She released her anchor field. With minimal thrust, the ship rose from the floor and sailed into the void. Away from the bay’s lighting, glittering sparks and misty streaks of dust spread across the panorama. Kena brought her primary drive on line.

  After a moment, she asked, “Any surprises for me yet?”

  “Scans match predictions,” Hrndl said.

  Kena opened the comm channel to her craft and ordered, “Amethyst units one and two, launch.”

  Two craft sailed out of the bay together. One rose, and the other descended into their formation positions.

  As soon as they separated, she ordered, “Units three and four, launch.”

  This pair separated to the right and left.

  A moment later, Hrndl said, “Amethyst quad is in proper position. Primary drives powering up.”

  “Sapphire units five and six, launch.” Kena continued ordering each of the pairs out until five quads followed behind her ship. She altered course and curved away from the Ontrevay. Twenty craft followed in cone formation. When all were aligned with their planned course and fully powered, she announced, “Prepare to initiate programmed course. Synchronize to my countdown.”

  Kena opened a comm channel to her science crew and said, “Prepare for acceleration in ten seconds.” The numbers counted down on her console. She spoke the last few aloud. “Three, two, one.”

  The force pinned her to her couch. The formation streamed after her like a banner stretched out by a mighty wind. Minutes ticked by, as the primary drive hurtled her ship toward the gap in the debris field.

  Far ahead, the alpha craft approached the gap. Delf’s voice came over a comm channel Hrndl had opened before acceleration. “Alpha command reporting status for all craft. We are on target. Near scans of the corridor are within prediction margin.”

  The Ontrevay responded. Kena toyed with giving Delf a little more banter, but it was too much effort to reach for her comm controls. The minutes continued to pass, and Kena’s toes grew numb. The debris field rushed toward her, faster and faster. Finally, the primary drive completed its acceleration burn. Invisible weight released Kena’s chest. She activated her navigational systems and checked scans, while Hrndl confirmed status with the other navigators.

  Kena made her own status report to the Ontrevay, told Hrndl to take over piloting, and opened the module’s door. She released her restraints, twisted around, and floated high enough to get a clear view of each face. “How are you all doing?” she asked.

  They uttered murmurs of “fine” with varying degrees of believability.

  Leelee asked with wide eyes, “What went wrong?”

  Kena suppressed a laugh. “Nothing went wrong. We have a long trip, and we’re short on time. The acceleration rate is much faster than on the brief trips you’re used to. If you’re queasy, close your eyes and take it easy for a while. We need to get a lot closer for your scanning, so you’ve nothing else to do, anyway.”

  Kena returned to her couch and resumed piloting.

  Hrndl closed the door and asked, “Are they really fine or just lying valiantly?”

  “Some of both, I suspect. Fortunately, none of them lost their breakfast.”

  “What a colorful phrase. Is it safe to assume that you mean none of them regurgitated?”

  Kena grinned at Hrndl’s rumbling tone. “Of course.”

  “Why not just say so?”

  “Regurgitate is such an ugly word. It doesn’t fit at all well into my dance.” After opening a comm channel, Kena said, “Quon, why don’t I have your status report?”

  “Sorry, Kena. Had a little mess to clean up here. One of my passengers turned his stomach inside out. Everything else is just—oh, Hrndl’s listening—all systems are operating within normal parameters.”
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  Kena acknowledged and closed the channel, casting an amused glance at Hrndl.

  “Turned his stomach inside out,” Hrndl repeated with pinched nostrils. “That would be the Veet so-called euphemism for that horribly ugly word. I wonder why it’s more acceptable than the real word.”

  Kena chuckled but focused on their tasks at hand. The three-hour trip required several course changes, but was otherwise uneventful. Arriving at a cluster of remnants from the large moon, the quads split up and began three hours of intense work. They scanned extensively for both navigation and composition purposes, and collected a significant amount of loose material. Leaving two of the emerald craft in the area to mine from large chunks, Kena led the rest out with their samples in tow.

  When they’d hurtled past the riskiest areas, Kena drifted back into the aft section and ordered her crew to eat and rest. She ate her own meal with them, so she could get a better idea of how they were doing.

  Hrndl had her chance to eat once Kena was strapped into her couch again. “Are they all right back there?” Hrndl asked.

  “I’ve seen hardier appetites, but they’re steady enough.” Kena tapped the console to pull up a reverse view of her trailing craft. “They’re immensely pleased with their new data, by the way.”

  “Good,” Hrndl said. “Do you want to sleep first, or shall I?”

  “You’d better. I can’t sleep at will like you Grfdn can. I’m not nearly tired enough to sleep now.”

  “All right. Do you know how to wake me if you need me?”

  Kena raised her brows. “Can’t I just call your name?”

  “No, I won’t hear you,” Hrndl said. “We all have a wake signal, well-established in our subconscious. I use the most common one. Just pinch one of my fingertips, and I’ll be fully alert within seconds.”

  Kena occupied herself by preparing a report to send with the new scan data. She had it ready by the time they were clear enough of the debris field to send an unimpeded data stream. Then, she revised their next course plan and analyzed the effects of an explosion some way off. It didn’t have much impact on their route, but it was an unpleasant reminder of what could happen without warning.