“I wish I could fly you.”
Anailu had been telling Orym Facusa the truth when she said she wanted some time to just be on this ship and experience it – but as she'd returned to the bridge, that niggling feeling from before had spawned an idea.
“I wonder if you are you as broken as you say you are?”
Back when she was learning starship engineering, she'd studied the Dove manuals she'd acquired. Now she was recalling how many safety interlocks the Dove systems had – far more than for a typical ship. On a luxury ship like this, you didn't want to take off and have a serious problem in-flight, so even though the Dove's systems had lots of redundancy, the safety lockouts were almost paranoid.
Anailu touched the key dongle to the console, unlocking and activating the control boards at that station. On any moderately sophisticated ship, every station could access all the ships systems, if it wasn't configured to limit to a specific role. But nothing like that had been done here; it seemed to be set to the factory defaults.
She wanted to make sure she had some privacy, so the first thing she went looking for was the sensor systems. She had little trouble finding the feed from an external camera showing the ramp and Orym walking down it.
Good, time to get down to it.
Anailu went straight to the engineering status displays. They confirmed what Orym had said – engines offline, hyperdrive offline, critical components missing from both.
Anailu knew an important detail about Telani ship design: with all that automation, they hid a lot of the real controls and the component-by-component systems statuses from less capable users – even if that was the owner. The controls that were normally available to the crew were limited to make it difficult, if not impossible, to even attempt to do something really stupid. However, if you knew the right override sequences, you could get more direct control and the raw, unfiltered data feeds. The overrides were right there in the repair manual, if you looked deep enough.
She had a copy of the manual stored on her comm, but she thought she still had the override sequences memorized. She tried them, hoping they weren't locked out, and – ding! There they were, the full suite of controls for the Dove's systems diagnostics. Now to get the ship to admit what it really thought about those drives.
And there it was: Yes, there were critical components missing, but here, the ship admitted the engines were actually capable of both starting and running stably up to a high idle. Starting the engines was not recommended, but it wouldn't be dangerous. At idle, the drives wouldn't produce enough power to generate direct thrust, but she thought that might be enough to power the secondary systems, especially one important one. She didn't have to guess, though. She would have the ship tell her.
She overrode the safety system and set it to pass the real drive statuses to the piloting console – and there it was! The ship projected that even at idle, the main drives could produce enough power to run the contra-gravity generators to full power, even leaving enough for the basic systems. That was what she'd been looking for. CG generators were very fuel efficient propulsion, but you had to have a gravity field to push against, such as a planet or moon. Outside of a gravity well, you needed direct thrust to get anywhere useful. Of course, without direct thrust from the drives, this ship wasn't leaving Doran anytime soon.
She also checked the hyperdrive, but that was really offline.
Anailu patted the console. “Well, you're not a starship for now, but you're a real ship, alright.”
As Anailu continued looking through the systems, she discovered something shocking – not one of the ship's systems were locked out, not the CG, not even the engine start controls!
Why would Orym leave this ship totally unlocked- unless he actually believes she's immobilized?
Anailu was tempted, just a smidge, but she wasn't crazy enough to try to start up engines that hadn't been run or maintained for who knew how many years. Anailu also had no doubt that if Orym knew the ship could move under its own power, then the price would go up.
With a flash of inspiration, she realized why the ship was priced precisely the way it was. Sure, the price was low for a Dove, but it was very high for a totally immobile cargo ship. All the same, the ship's unique looks had probably brought many customers into Orym's lot.
The next realization hit Anailu like a bolt of lightning.
I'm already thinking about buying this ship.
Calmly, Anailu returned the systems to their normal configurations, letting the ship go back to displaying its very conservative version of reality, and then she started exploring the idea that had snuck up on her.
Buying this ship is a stupid, foolish idea. I came to Doran with a smart, practical plan.
But if I do this, and I pull it off, I will own and fly this awesome and beautiful ship, the ship of my dreams, the ship that started me on the path that led me here.
Her practical side tried to rein her in.
A Dove is a Medium-tonnage ship, and I only have a Small-tonnage license.
The dreamer in her wasn't ready to give up. She remembered a little detail she'd learned about when studying for her license: the so-called “rich idiot's exemption.” There was a provision that allowed a Captain with a “Small” license to command a specially certified Medium-tonnage ship with additional safety systems. Both the required systems and the certification process were very expensive. Only companies that catered to the ultra-rich went to the trouble and expense of certifying ships for this special provision, because their customers were the kind of people who could afford private yachts large enough to make use of it.
The story Anailu had heard was that the provision was pushed by powerful people who couldn't stand anyone having even that authority over them, even if the captain was their own employee. By law, the captain of a ship could give orders to any crew or passenger when necessary for safety. So, the owner would pencil-whip the required crew experience and take the licensing test somewhere they could pay someone off, and get their “Master's License, Small.” Since most yachts were Small-rated ships, and the Imperium didn't exercise much scrutiny on Small-licensed shipmasters, they could get away with it.
The Imperium also turned a blind eye to this practice because these owners didn't try to actually use their fraudulently obtained licenses. No, they'd hire on a qualified captain as nominal First Mate, one whose desire for a disgustingly large salary outweighed their personal dignity. They would be safe, but officially be in control, even aboard ship.
However, the extremely rich often had yachts too large for this subterfuge to work on its own. The Empire controlled Medium-size class ships and their captains more strictly than the Smalls. The Medium-size shipmaster tests were administered only on the Core Worlds, where there were a lot more controls against cheating. So, the upper crust worked around the problem and got this nifty provision inserted in the law.
In any case, the Dove was one of the certified ship types – she'd first encountered that detail years ago, and had looked it up again when she was studying for her own license test. That meant that she, with a brand new “Small-rated” shipmaster's license, might be legally permitted to command a Dove!
Other captains look down on captains who fly “idiot yachts.” Do I care about that if it means I'm flying a Dove?
No. No, I don't.
Even so, her practical side wasn't done yet.
Just because it's possible doesn't mean it will be actual.
What condition was the ship really in, down deep? Could it actually fly? If it did, would it break down somewhere and leave her with just a big beautiful statue and no money? To answer these questions, Anailu knew that she really needed to get into the access panels, to spend time in the crawlspaces, to test individual components, hands-on. Even if the ship checked out, she needed to know if she could make money hauling cargo point-to-point here on Doran.
Can I earn enough to pay for fuel, or little things like, say, food?
Anailu had spent too long
saving her money to ignore these practical issues.
But maybe she had a clever way to keep from having a really stupid amount of risk in her foolish plan. OK, a clever, slightly sneaky way. It depended on convincing Orym to accept an unusual deal.
She walked into the sales office, and Orym smoothly stood up from his console. “So, now that you've seen the dream, are you ready to look at something practical and reliable? What's your price range?”
She waved him off, “Well, I'm a little embarrassed, but I'm still thinking about that Dove. She deserves to fly again. I know you said she's totally immobile, but I'm a pretty good engineer, and I'd like to try to get her running. What if I buy her for 70k and try to fix her for, say, a week? If I can't get her running in that time, then I would trade her back to you one of your other ships at say, a thousand less than what I paid for her.”
Orym narrowed his eyes at her. “I like your style, kid, but my partner tried that years ago. That ship isn't going anywhere – at least not under her own power. Do you really want to waste your time and money?”
“I'm serious. I know it's unlikely, but I really want to try.”
“Hmm. I've had people try to buy that ship to chop her up for parts. I won't stand for that. For anyone wanting to buy that ship, I always demand a clause that requires the buyer to sell her back to me, rather than stripping her for parts. I even put it right there in the ad, in the small print. There's less than a hundred ships like her. I won't see her destroyed.”
Anailu's eyes went wide, “Oh, no, I wouldn't do anything like that. She's a work of art. I'll keep things neat, and I promise that in a week, she'll be in as good or better condition than she is now. But I can't buy her for your asking price. How about 75K?”
She could see the wheels turning in his head. Anailu knew she looked young, but maybe this time that would work in her favor. Orym probably thought she was some merchanter kid, maybe just having reached the age of majority and in a hurry to spend her family shares. He might be thinking she was spending Mommy and Daddy's money, not her own.
“OK, I'll do a deal for 95k, and 1k less when you sell her back to me. Minus damages, of course. And if she doesn't lift on her own power in a week from now, you sell her back to me right then, no matter what.”
Oh, she had him.
If she really could get the ship flying, that is. Also, 95K was still too rich for her. She didn't have that much.
“80K and 5K less on the buy-back?”
“Kid, I just can't go that low. It's just wouldn't be respectful to the ship. It's a Dove, it's art! But, I can do 90K and buy her back for 85K.”
Still, it was too expensive for her. OK, she had a little over 90K saved up, but she knew, at the least, she would have to buy a new comm system. Who knew what else she would need? There was no point in buying the ship and then not being able to finish repairs because she didn't have a measly few thousand Imperial chips. She couldn't spend everything just buying the ship, or she really would only own it for a week.
“OK, how about 80K and 15K less on the buy-back. Please?” She even threw in the puppy-dog-eyes. It was embarrassing. Bad enough having people think she was still a kid without playing to it, but she was cutting it close. She needed to have something left over after this.
“Aaaargh. You're killin' me, but it's a deal.”
So, they did the paperwork, transferring the money, the bill of sale, and updating the registry, or what passed for it. For now, her ship was only registered on Doran as an inactive ship, without even a name.
Still, it was her ship.
“Umm, do you mind if I stay here on my ship, while I work on her?” She got butterflies in her stomach just saying “my ship.”
“Sure, kid, but no parties! Oh, and one other thing,” he added with a smile. “If by some insane chance, you think you have her ready to move, you gotta warn me before you do anything. I wouldn't want to miss a miracle. More importantly, you will also have to convince my partner that you aren't going to break something or just plain explode.”
She nodded seriously. “Of course.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Crazy dreams. I remember when I had those. Good luck, kid.”
Uuuuugh.
Even though she'd gotten pretty much the deal she wanted, he was another person who thought she was just a kid. She didn't look that young anymore.
And why shouldn't I have a crazy dream?
Chapter 4: To Repair, Perchance to Lift
It took five days.
She used all three manuals, but mostly the yard manual. Besides the missing parts, the systems didn't report any major failures in the core systems she needed before she could lift. Anailu still had plenty of work. It seemed like every component needed recalibration; and then when she actually turned on a whole sub-system, something in it needed to be calibrated again. Fortunately, she didn't have to replace much, beyond some gaskets and seals. Sure, some parts had to be pulled and re-coated; or fluids drained and refilled; but overall, the ship was in terrific shape. All the guts looked to be almost fresh from a factory refurb – well, with another twenty or thirty years of disuse on top of it. Oh, and that cargo modification? Definitely a Telani yard job. Insane. All the tamper-evident seals and authentic markings were there, and Anailu knew where to look and what to look for. She checked online, but she didn't find a mention of anyone – not the Telani, nor any owner – who had admitted having their Dove modified in that way.
And that five days? That was just for checking the core systems: main drives, fuel system, contra-gravity generators, and command systems – the basics she had to have in order to lift.
During her week of hard work, she had met Orym's partner, Vargit. He was a crusty old starship engineer who had started a family on Doran and ended up settling down here. Anailu talked to Vargit several times during the week, chatting while they both happened to be running lengthy diagnostics at the same time – at least, that's what Vargit said he was doing.
At first, it was pretty obvious he was trying to see if she was a competent engineer. She ended up helping Vargit with a tricky little drive problem that she'd run into before. There were two ways to fix it: overhaul the entire drive and then finally fix the actual problem, or, if you recognized the symptoms correctly, just fix the problem and avoid the overhaul. Saving Vargit a drive overhaul had made him happy. Anailu knowing something about starship repair that he didn't had impressed him.
After that, he was a lot friendlier. He told her more about himself, though. Back when he'd decided to stay planetside, he found engineers were in demand by the big shipyards, but he hadn't liked the lack of independence you had working for them. He also wasn't interested in running his own business. He'd ended up partnering with Orym, who handled sales and ran the business side of things, while Vargit focused on fixing ships.
Vargit also told Anailu how Orym got the Dove in the first place, and how they'd checked every business around the city with even a chance of having the missing parts, but they'd had no luck.
It was after that repair that Vargit gave her some advice. She'd been telling him about her original plan that brought her to Doran. He seemed to approve of it until she told him she had planned to operate solo.
“Have you ever been out there alone? I mean totally alone, way out beyond the dark, with no one around?”
Anailu admitted she hadn't.
“Girl, I know you're not as young as you look, but maybe you ought to rethink becoming a 'lone starfarer.' There's people who thrive on being alone, but I don't think you're the type. It's not just being alone for a long time, either. I think you'll feel different once you're in some seedy port, or out beyond the dark when something goes wrong, or just a long run where you've been out there for a week totally alone. Take it from me, you'll be better off if you share the work with some friends.”
Anailu had never been good at making friends. She'd thought Gardenia was a real friend, and she'd been betrayed. She'd kept her distance from people afte
r that, and it had worked OK so far.
“And don't give me that look. It even matters down here in the well. Why, if I hadn't met Orym, I don't know what would have happened. Trust me, you need to make some friends, but first, you gotta be open to it – even if it's just some old fart you met while working on your ship.”
“I know the risks of flying alone, Vargit – but I'll think about it.”
He clapped her on the back and returned to his work. That was the end of that conversation. She wasn't sure why, but she kept thinking about his advice after she'd gone back to the still unnamed Dove.
Now, on the evening of the fifth day, she had only the final task to complete – to start the drive. She really didn't want to wait any longer, but it was late. She knew she needed to sleep on it, in case she'd forgotten anything, and to make sure she was fresh in case there were more problems to deal with. She still had two days left, anyway.
The moment she woke up, she realized one crucial detail she hadn't thought about yet.
Fuel.
There were a lot of things in the ship that appeared to have been left untouched for thirty years. Even the bedding in the cabins was still stored there, though it was a little musty. The fuel tanks, though, had been completely drained. That wasn't unexpected – it wasn't smart to leave a disabled ship fueled up. Anailu needed fuel to prove that this wasn't a disabled ship any more.
So, she called up Vargit.
“Hey, Vargit, I need power and some fuel so I can run a full system test.”
“What? You need fuel? Orym said you agreed that you only get the free fuel if you get the main drive up.”
“No, Vargit, you don't understand. I don't want the full load yet. I just need enough to run a system test.”
“Oh, boy. Don't tell me, you want jump start the auxiliary power without the mains. They're not designed for it, and you could damage them. You know Orym won't like that!”
The Sculpted Ship Page 3