by Ryk Brown
His observation took Nathan by surprise. “You might say that.” He turned to glance over his shoulder at the old man. “Does that bother you? That I’m a clone?”
“If I understood correctly, it is only your body that is a clone. And if your body is a copy of your original body, then you are no less the man you were in your original body.”
“Not everyone sees it that way.”
“People tend to see what they wish to see, long before they see the truth,” Master Koku said as the ship cleared the airlock and thrusted forward.
“Should I be ready to take control?” Nathan asked as the ship passed under the massive race platform.
“Departure Control should release flight control to your auto-pilot as soon as we have cleared the outer perimeter, which is one thousand kilometers from the platform.”
“A thousand kilometers?” Nathan said. “At this speed, it’ll take forever.”
“Brace yourself,” Master Koku warned.
As the words left the Gunyoki master’s lips, the ship’s two main engines went to twenty-five percent power, pushing Nathan back in his seat. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, struggling to breathe. “Aren’t there any inertial dampeners in this thing?”
“Yes, but they only lessen the forces, they do not remove them completely.”
“Why the hell not?” Nathan wondered, still pinned against his seat.
“A Gunyoki must feel the forces of flight, in order to perform properly. Without them, he knows not what those forces are doing to his ship.”
“Yeah, well, I’m feeling those forces, alright!”
“Nine hundred kilometers from the platform,” Master Koku announced. “Prepare to take manual control.”
The thrust levels decreased slightly, and Nathan managed to reach out and grab the flight control stick and the throttles. He adjusted himself in his seat, better preparing himself, both physically and mentally, for the task ahead.
“Nine-fifty.”
“I’m ready,” Nathan assured him.
The warning light on the auto-flight system began to blink, indicating that control was about to be turned over to the onboard auto-pilot system.
“One thousand.”
The warning light turned green.
“Auto-pilot has the ship,” Nathan announced. “Going to manual,” he added, pressing the button on his flight control stick to disengage the auto-pilot.
At first, everything seemed fine. The ship wavered slightly, but Nathan kept on course.
“Try a twenty-degree, level turn to the left,” Master Koku suggested.
Nathan did as instructed, angling his starboard engine nacelle, so the thrust nozzle pointed slightly toward the ship’s centerline, and increased the thrust level of that engine. The ship began to turn left, as commanded. A quick set of opposite inputs stopped his turn, and he continued flying on the new course.
“Now return to your original heading,” Master Koku instructed.
Again, the maneuver was simple enough.
“Nicely done.”
It was the first compliment Nathan had heard come out of Master Koku’s mouth.
“Now, give me a rolling, descending left turn, coming about ninety degrees and pitching down thirty degrees.”
Nathan adjusted his engine deflections and power settings, executing the maneuver as requested. However, he was a little late stopping his roll, and had to roll back in the opposite direction to correct for it.
“Remember, both turns and attitude are controlled by both engine deflection and thrust levels. As the point of thrust is well aft of the center of gravity, the center of rotation will always feel somewhat off. You will become accustomed to this over time. Meanwhile, it is important that you restrict your inputs to tiny changes. Gently coax your ship to do your bidding, do not manhandle her. The results are often unpredictable.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Nathan replied as he continued maneuvering.
“Change course to one five two, by six seven, and accelerate to five-seventy,” Master Koku instructed.
“Five-seventy?” Nathan asked. “Isn’t it too soon to be flying that fast?”
“That is not even half of her top speed. You cannot win a battle at slow speeds.”
Nathan sighed. “You’re the boss,” he agreed, increasing power as he changed course. “Where are we going?”
“There is a small group of closely packed asteroids nearby,” Master Koku explained. “Most of them are small enough that they will not penetrate your shields.”
“Most of them?” Nathan wondered as he got the ship on its new course and speed.
“Try to pick a line that requires the least maneuvering,” Master Koku told him. “Study the movement of the asteroids. Anticipate where they will be when you reach them. Use their movement to your advantage.”
“I’ll do my best,” Nathan promised.
“Hopefully…better.”
“Right.” Nathan looked down at his sensor display, noting the movement patterns of the nearest asteroid. His mind flashed back to Haven, and negotiating her dense rings in the Aurora many years ago. “Okay, I’ve got this,” he verbalized.
“What is it you have got?” Master Koku wondered.
“A figure of speech,” Nathan explained. “It means: I’m confident that I can do this.”
“Then by all means, have this.”
Nathan’s brow furrowed slightly at his instructor’s turn of phrase. He set his course for the large asteroid directly in front of him, which was passing right to left. He then grabbed the throttle to decrease power, just to be safe.
“Maintain a constant speed throughout the asteroid field,” Master Koku insisted.
“What?”
“Slowing down or speeding up, to avoid a collision, requires no particular talents,” Master Koku said. “Do not alter your speed.”
“Whatever you say,” Nathan agreed, adjusting himself in his seat in preparation. He glanced at his sensor display, tapping the image of the large asteroid directly ahead to call up its course and speed. A quick, mental calculation told him the asteroid’s lateral motion was not enough to move it out of his way before impact. However, it was also moving slightly away from him, which bought him a few more seconds. He altered his course slightly to starboard, then rolled his ship onto its port side as he approached, looking up at the surface of the asteroid less than fifty meters away. “Why isn’t the gravity well of this guy pulling me toward it?”
“These asteroids are composed of extremely porous rock,” Master Koku explained. “Despite their size, their mass is negligible.”
“It would have been nice to know that ahead of time,” Nathan said. “I would have cut it even closer.”
“Perhaps you should have studied the geology of the Rogen system prior to attempting to navigate its contents.”
“Right,” Nathan replied, rolling his ship back and over on its right side in order to pull around the next approaching asteroid. “Uh-oh,” he said as he cleared the second asteroid. A sea of smaller asteroids were coming toward him, each of them spinning wildly, and bouncing off of one another. “This is not good. A few of them must have collided and broken apart.”
“Not an uncommon occurrence in a densely packed group of floating rocks,” Master Koku said dryly.
Nathan pulled this ship over hard to port, then pulled his nose up. The maneuver caused his engine nacelles to reposition dramatically, and the ship began to yaw to starboard as it rolled to port. “Uh…”
“You are applying too much thrust,” Master Koku warned.
The ship’s aft end slid to one side as Nathan tried to correct its motion, but every input he seemed to make only worsened his situation. “This is not working,” he exclaimed.
“Concentrate,” Master Koku insisted. “Clear your mind of fear. See your course. See what your ship, what your engines, must do to find that course.”
A group of spinning, rocky debris struck his port shielding, causing it to light up
in opaque ambers.
“Oops,” Nathan said as he continued struggling to control his ship.
“You are not concentrating.”
“This would be a lot easier if you’d let me use my throttles,” Nathan insisted.
“And if your throttles were stuck?”
“But they’re not,” Nathan reminded him, “and I’m not going to get any better if I’m splattered across a rock in space.”
Master Koku took control of the Gunyoki fighter, recovered it from its tumbling spin, and then guided it smoothly through the tight groupings of spinning rocks and dust.
Nathan watched in amazement as the old man piloted the complex, and difficult-to-maneuver, ship around and between the obstacles dancing about them as if he could do so in his sleep. “You’ve done this before.”
“I have.”
Nathan sighed. “Well, I don’t think I did that badly for my first time. What do you think?”
“I think you are hopeless,” Master Koku replied.
“Not the answer I was hoping for,” Nathan said to himself.
* * *
“The design of the Gunyoki fighter is based on two principles. The first is durability. Every system has at least one redundancy; many three,” Quory explained to the team as he led them around Nathan’s ship. “In addition, all components are considerably overbuilt. This gives the Gunyoki fighter a remarkable ability to sustain damage, yet remain combat effective.”
“What’s the second design element?” Vladimir wondered.
“The modularity of its construction. Every section is designed to be easily removed and replaced. Likewise, every component within each section is designed with such rapid serviceability in mind.”
Josh looked around the bay, noting numerous tool cabinets and diagnostic equipment, but no spare parts. “Where are all the spares?”
“I do not believe that Mister Yokimah provided them,” Quory admitted.
“Uh, won’t we need them?” Loki asked.
“Doubtful, as the chances of your captain advancing past the third round are negligible.”
“Can we buy some spare parts?” Deliza asked.
“It is difficult, as they are in high demand. However, if you have the funds, most can be obtained through the shadow markets.”
“Perhaps you can make us a list of what we might need?” Deliza suggested.
“I would be happy to, Miss Ta’Akar,” Quory assured her.
“What’s so significant about the third round?” Abby wondered.
“It is when the targets start shooting back,” Quory replied with a smile. “If, by some miracle, your captain makes it past the third round…” Quory’s smile became more pronounced. “You will definitely need those parts.”
“Don’t you mean, we?” Vladimir said.
“Yes, you.”
“No, we, as in, all of us…including you?” Vladimir corrected.
“I am not allowed to assist in the servicing of your Gunyoki fighter,” Quory insisted. “I am an employee of Yokimah Racing. If I help you maintain your ship, I will most certainly lose my job.”
“Then why are you here?” Vladimir wondered.
“I was told to instruct you on the basics of Gunyoki service and repair.”
“By whom?” Deliza asked
“By Mister Yokimah, of course.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Perhaps he is just protecting his property,” Abby suggested.
“Doubtful,” Quory said. “This ship is nearing the end of its useful service life. After this event, it will be disassembled and recycled.”
Deliza, Abby, and Vladimir all exchanged concerned glances.
“So what?” Josh exclaimed. “Half the parts on the Seiiki are past their useful service life.”
Deliza, Abby, and Vladimir all looked at Josh.
“What?” Josh wondered.
“You’re not helping,” Deliza told him.
* * *
“I swear, that kid is awfully creative when it comes to finding ways to get between a rock and a hard place,” Roselle declared, letting go a raucous laugh.
“Just how dangerous is this race?” Robert asked Cameron.
“The first two rounds are just two ships racing each other through a course, shooting at targets as they go,” Cameron explained. “So, as long as he doesn’t fly into any of the race gates, he should be fine. From what I’ve read, however, it’s the third round where things get interesting. That’s when the targets start firing back.”
“He’s got shields, doesn’t he?” Robert asked.
“Yes, but Gunyoki fighters are under-powered, and the flight crew has to constantly juggle power distribution between propulsion and maneuvering, weapons, and shields.”
“Crew?” Robert wondered.
“Nathan is doing the flying, and Loki will be the weapons officer,” Cameron said.
“Doesn’t sound that bad,” Gil said.
“It gets worse,” Cameron warned. “In the final rounds, they use an asteroid field instead of race gates, and the ships have to fight each other along with the automated weapons emplacements. And if both ships make it through the course, they engage in a dogfight at the end.”
“And the weapons are not simulated?” Robert surmised by the concern in Cameron’s voice.
“No, they are not. They are low-power, but more than enough to cause significant damage if their shields fail.”
“Has anyone ever died in these races?” Gil asked.
“At least once or twice per year. Although, usually it’s due to pilot error, and not to weapons fire, at least not directly.”
Gil shook his head. “Like I said… A rock and a hard place.”
“Why is he doing this?” Robert wondered.
“He’s trying to show the Rakuens that their Gunyoki are not enough to stop the Dusahn…”
“By beating them in a race?” Gil said, laughing again.
“…And to win their respect, and possibly their support,” Cameron added. “There’s also a bet.”
“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it,” Gil said.
“What’s the bet?” Robert asked, nowhere near as amused as Gil.
“If he wins, we get twelve Gunyoki fighters.”
“And if he loses?”
“Yokimah Enterprises takes ownership of the Ranni shuttle plant on Rakuen.”
Robert shook his head. “Why are we moving the fleet to the Rogen sector?” he wondered.
“Nathan’s orders,” Cameron replied. “Both he and Jessica have an uneasy feeling about all of this.”
“Did he elaborate?”
“No. I’m assuming it’s just a hunch.”
“Jess doesn’t do hunches,” Robert said. “If she suspects something’s amiss, she’s got good reasons.”
“If so, she hasn’t shared them with us.”
“What’s this got to do with us?” Gil asked.
“After we park the fleet within single-jump range of Rakuen, Nathan wants the Aurora to go to Rakuen for the race. General Telles agrees that it’s a good idea, but I’m a little uncomfortable leaving the fleet unprotected.”
“You can be back within a minute, or two,” Robert reminded her.
“Think you could take out our entire fleet in less than a minute?” Cameron pointed out.
“More like thirty seconds,” Gil surmised.
“Precisely,” Cameron agreed.
“So, you want us to protect the fleet in the Aurora’s absence?” Robert assumed.
“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Cameron said with a sigh. “I just think it would be best if every armed ship we have is in a ready-state, especially while this ship is away from the fleet.”
“Well, we’ve got four gunships that are fully operational, and two more that could be combat-ready in a few days, but really should be kept out of action, if possible,” Robert told her.
“The problem is, we don’t have crews for them all,” Gil a
dded.
“I can provide enough engineers and sensor officers to crew three ships,” Cameron offered. “And I can give you a couple of copilots to fly with the two of you. Plus, we have one full crew from Three Eight Three, and the flight crew from Three Eight Two.”
“You want to use the kids?” Gil questioned.
“They are trained,” Cameron reminded him.
“They’re straight out of flight school, Cam,” Robert argued. “That’s a long way from being fully trained and ready for combat.”
“They did alright on Kohara.”
“They got lucky,” Gil insisted.
Cameron leaned back in her chair, sighing. “Right now, I’ll take lucky.”
CHAPTER NINE
“While you are no longer flying like a cargo ship pilot, you are now flying like you are in a conventional fighter,” Master Koku observed from the backseat of the Gunyoki fighter.
“What’s wrong with that?” Nathan wondered as he snaked his ship through the gates on the practice course.
“Nothing, if you are flying such a fighter. The nature of the Gunyoki engine nacelles demands a different approach. You must consider the movements that your nacelles must make in order to transition from one maneuver to the next. In a conventional fighter, such considerations are not necessary, as they have thrusters scattered about the ship, and pointing in every conceivable angle needed.”
“Which makes them much more maneuverable, and easier to fly,” Nathan commented.
“It may make them easier to fly, but it does not make them more maneuverable. What it does make them is overly complex, and difficult to maintain. It also makes them easier to disable. Destroy only a few thrusters, and a conventional fighter loses half of its maneuverability, making it an easy target.”
“Take out one of a Gunyoki’s two engine nacelles, and you get the same result,” Nathan argued.
“Ah, but doing so is quite difficult. That is the beauty of the Gunyoki design. Simple, rugged, and deadly…once you master it.”
“I’m trying, believe me,” Nathan insisted.
“No, you are trying to force it to do your bidding, instead of allowing it to do what it was designed to do.” Master Koku placed his hands on the flight controls on either side of him. “May I demonstrate?”