Bad Luck Charlie

by Scott Baron

  The towering mech raced through its paces, relatively nimble for a machine that size, though it would periodically sound the stability parameter warning alarm. Keeping it balanced on two feet was an ongoing challenge despite the automatic gait moderation gyros.

  Charlie deftly maneuvered the mech around a series of lower obstacles, narrowly avoiding the Do Not Step items at the lower edge of his field of vision as they illuminated on his heads-up display.

  “Faster, Charlie. Clock’s ticking,” Rika said over the pilot’s cabin speaker.

  “I know, I know,” he grumbled, increasing his pace as he neared the most difficult portion of the sequence.

  Walking, and even running a bit, were becoming easier, but approaching the water obstacle required not only speed, but also timing, trajectory planning, and agility, should he hope to stick the landing on the other side and not stumble and fall back with a splash as he’d done so many times before.

  The mech turned at his command and began moving with increasing speed, its massive feet thundering on the ground as it approached the reflecting pool. Charlie knew the correct angle he had to launch at, as well as the speed, and even which foot to lead with. It was putting all of that together while strapped into the cockpit of a man-shaped machine that was the hard part.

  He feathered the controls as he approached the edge at speed.

  Come on, Charlie. You can do this, he assured himself.

  Ten steps to go.

  Six.

  Three.

  He pulled the controls, applying a little body English from his seat as the mech leapt into the air, willing it to follow the trajectory he had set for it. Amazingly, it seemed that––for once––it was working.

  Two enormous feet landed firmly on the other side of the water, the lengthy expanse cleared in a single bound. Warning lights flashed as the machine began teetering, first to the left, then backward toward the water.

  Oh no you don’t. Not this time.

  Charlie pivoted the knees and threw the arms forward at an angle, counteracting the balance irregularity. One by one the red lights dimmed until the mech was standing upright and secure on the far shore. Charlie allowed himself a little victorious grin, then quickly headed off to the final series of maneuvers.

  Four minutes later, he powered down and unstrapped from his seat.

  “Not bad, Gault. Not bad at all.”

  “Thanks, Rika,” he replied, hopping from the gimbal-mounted simulation chair.

  “Finally stuck the water landing.”

  “That one’s been a consistent problem for me.”

  “I’ve seen,” she said with a grin. “Repeatedly, in fact. You’ve really improved these last few months.”

  “Thanks to your help.”

  “Hey, I only gave advice. You’re the one who built the thing.”

  “I’m just a small part in a big machine that built it. And you need to give yourself more credit. Engineering know-how only goes so far. A pilot’s input proved invaluable in resolving those last few maneuverability issues.”

  Rika took a long sip from her electrolyte bottle. “So?” she asked quizzically.

  “No way,” Charlie replied before she could finish her thought.

  “Oh, come on, Charlie. Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

  “Curious enough to crash Mr. Millbury’s new space robot? I’ll take a hard pass, thank you very much.”

  “It was only a little tumble last time, and it didn’t damage anything. A little paint, and no one even noticed. That thing’s built tough as nails,” she replied.

  “Nope. I’ll leave the piloting to you. A simulation is one thing, but sitting in the pilot seat of a multi-billion-dollar machine, then having it topple over, is not something I want to repeat.”

  It had been one of the very early iterations of the mech that Charlie had his mishap with, and there had been no real damage caused. Hell, the machine was so sturdily built it would take quite a lot more than merely falling over to cause any damage to it. But Charlie had bruised something else in the process, and pride took a lot more to repair than a few nuts and bolts.

  “Come on,” Rika said, heading for the door. “If you’re gonna chicken shit out of giving the actual mech a real whirl, then you owe me a solid hour, mister.”

  “Ugh, can’t we skip it today?” he groaned.

  “Nope. You’ve already dropped eight kilos since we got here. That’s an excellent start––”

  “With you kicking my ass regularly, it’s no surprise.”

  “Hey, like it or not, you’ve been stuck on the flight crew, and the captain will not be amused if his engineer passes out or, heaven forbid, has an embolism because of the extra weight he’s carrying around.”

  “I won’t die. I promise.”

  “You say that, and going weightless in space will be fine, but the Gs you’ll pull during launch are no cakewalk, and despite our simulations and data from the moon test, we really don’t know all of the pressures a jump from Earth to Mars will put on our bodies.”

  Charlie picked up his bag and followed her out the door. “Fine. Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.

  She shot him a good-natured smile. “Excellent. I have some agility drills and plyometrics lined up for you today.”

  “Oh, lucky me,” he said with a pained laugh as the mission’s second-in-command led him toward another torturous workout.

  Since Charlie had been abruptly added to the flight roster, Rika had taken it upon herself to get the lone non-compliant crew member in shape for the voyage. At first it was an effort even getting him through the most simple of workouts, but the soft man hadn’t always been that way, and the old muscles were quickly making a return. Now, if only she could help him shed those years of junk food that were hiding them.

  Every day they would train, and every day he would gripe and moan about it. But beneath that complaining, Charlie was actually kind of glad to see his old self returning. Not only that, he had made a new friend in the process. One he was glad would have his back when he reluctantly made his trip to the stars.

  Chapter Six

  “Ground Control to Major Tom,” Charlie joked over his comms as he slid into the brand-new memory foam harness seat in the command module. It was so new, it even had the smell, he noted.

  “What was that?” Rika asked, swiveling to look at him with her piercing gaze.

  “Just an old song, is all.”

  “Why were you singing it over ship’s comms? We’re about to launch.”

  “I know. It’s just that it has to do with––”

  “Good morning, team,” Captain Reynard interrupted as he entered the bridge of the new ship with an air of unbridled joy. A new ship. His new ship.

  “To be continued,” Charlie said with a wink.

  The captain took a stroll through the gleaming consoles of the heart of the vessel.

  “So, how are we looking, Gaspari?” he asked as he slid into his command seat.

  “Everything is green across the board, Captain,” she replied, crisp and professional. “Supplies are stowed and secured, all systems check clear, and the rest of the crew have taken their stations.”

  “Excellent. And how are flight controls, Gault?”

  “Looking good, Captain,” Charlie replied. “There did seem to be a slight fluctuation in the dampeners, but nothing out of parameters.”

  “So we’re good to go, Charlie?”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  “All right, then. Let’s fire her up and give her a run, shall we?”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Charlie said, then powered up the engines and began his careful monitoring of the critical flight systems.

  He was going into space, and he was not thrilled about it.

  The prior week had been one for atmospheric tests, followed by a dry-run just outside the atmosphere. Charlie had been spared those flights, his presence only needed when the mission-critical engineering and flight systems were brought online.r />
  The earlier tests had gone off without a hitch. The ship flew easily in the atmosphere, even gliding with its fixed wings for several hundred miles as it descended during a power loss simulation.

  Outside of the atmosphere, she maneuvered just as steadily, easily entering and exiting the planet’s exosphere repeatedly with no ill effects. When he reviewed the data from the tests, Charlie knew the time would soon be upon him. The time he would have no choice but to fly in space.

  Some would kill for the opportunity, and he supposed he could understand the desire, objectively. Subjectively, however, he found the idea horrifying and unnecessarily dangerous. Like skydiving. Taking risks he could avoid was something Charlie was resolutely opposed to.

  With the advances being made with artificial intelligence studies, it looked like humanity might not even need to be the ones flying off into the cosmos for much longer. At least, not if the rumor mill was accurate. A functional AI could be up and running within a decade, and if that happened, it would only be a matter of time before they became integral to everyday life.

  Dangerous jobs could be handled by machines, ones not afraid of losing life or limb, and exploration could be carried out by far smarter and far less fragile beings than himself. Unfortunately, that sort of thing was decades, if not centuries, away. Thus, Charlie found himself sweating in his flight suit as the ship rumbled into the skies.

  It took several minutes to reach orbit, but when they finally did, and the rattling and shaking stopped, Charlie actually found the brief moment of weightlessness before the artificial gravity generators kicked in to be surprisingly tranquil and terror-free.

  “What’re you thinking, Charlie?” Rika asked, catching a glimpse of his expression.

  “Um, I was just, uh––”

  “Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” she said. “I remember my first time in space. You always remember your first time.”

  “Well, I––”

  He felt his body suddenly become heavy, squishing down deep into his foam seat.

  “Hang on,” he grunted, fiddling with a few settings on his screen.

  The pressure eased up, and gravity settled in to just slightly less than Earth normal.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Glitch?” the captain asked, one eyebrow high and askew.

  “Nothing to worry about, Captain. I must have transposed a digit when setting the gravity prior to launch.”

  “All right, then,” the captain replied. “Gaspari, confirm readiness of all crew, then prepare for phase one of the experiments.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Within a minute the entire crew had sounded off their status. All were good to go. With that, the next steps could begin.

  “This is your captain speaking,” Reynard said over ship-wide comms. “We’ve settled into a low orbit around the Earth following a successful launch and atmospheric exit sequence. We’re now going to begin powering up all drive and power systems in preparation for the next propulsion tests. No jump will take place. This is only a localized test. You may all begin your tests.” He keyed off the comms and turned to his engineering chief.

  “Okay, Charlie, the ball’s in your court. Fire up your systems, and let’s see what this baby can do.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” he replied, setting to work carefully activating each of the sequestered systems. In just under ten minutes all were in the green and fully online. “That should be it, Captain. We are ready to begin.”

  He most certainly did not want to begin, but at this point there wasn’t really a choice anymore.

  “Great work, team. I want you all to know just how proud I am of you,” Reynard said. “Let’s get this show on the road. Gaspari, prepare to transfer full power to all systems. Once we’ve established that baseline reading, and if there are no fluctuations, we’ll begin.”

  She shifted power dampers, feeding each system the raw energy they craved.

  “Done, Captain. All looks normal.”

  “Great. Then we might as well give her a go. Let’s start off with a simple orbital flight. Impulse power only, Charlie.”

  “Aye, Captain,” he said, keying the engines. “Ready, Rika.”

  “Got it,” she replied, steering them into an effortless loop of the globe, the craft easily maneuvering around the planet below.

  “How’s it looking, Gault?”

  “All good, Captain.”

  “Okay, then. Gaspari, set a course for just past the moon, and open her up.”

  “Captain? We’re only supposed to be doing orbital testing today.”

  “We’re not jumping. Just giving her a proper shake-out. You heard me. Full power, Rika.”

  “Uh, aye, aye, Captain,” Rika said, flashing a slightly concerned look at the engineering chief. “How are power levels?” she asked.

  “Looking stable,” Charlie replied, his knuckles transitioning to an even whiter shade as he gripped the arms of his seat. “All energy cells are within parameters. You’re good to go.”

  She gave him a little nod and punched a command into her console.

  “I know you don’t like space flight, but I’m glad you’re with us, Charlie.”

  “Thanks, Rika.”

  She was a fantastic pilot, and he knew, logically, that they were in good hands. It was just a little trip to the moon and back, that was all. Nevertheless, his stomach was in knots when the countdown hit zero.

  Things went horribly wrong moments later, and their next desperate minutes would be filled with panic and chaos. Chaos that would end with their ship plummeting toward a strange, alien world.

  “Starboard heat shield seven is gone!” Charlie called out as calmly as he could manage over the din of their ship tearing apart. He was going to carry out his duties like a professional if it was the last thing he’d do.

  Chapter Seven

  At least the atmosphere isn’t toxic, Charlie thought as he crawled from the crumpled wreckage of their ship.

  When he woke, still strapped to the firmly bolted seat in the engineering compartment adjacent the command center, he felt a dry breeze blowing on his face. He found it odd that the ship’s air-con systems would be blowing hot and arid. Then his fuzzy head began to clear.

  We were going down, he remembered as the fog lifted. We were going to crash.

  And crash they had. He hadn’t been conscious for it, of course, having blacked out from the crushing G-forces, but the ship had most definitely wound up on the surface of the odd planet they’d seen when the vid screens briefly flickered to life before giving up the ghost.

  Also giving away their unfortunate circumstance was the long tear in the hull of the ship that was letting light and fresh air into his otherwise sealed engineering center. The light filtering in, he noted, was somewhat orange in color.

  Charlie panicked for a moment, scrambling to find an emergency oxygen mask. Then the realization set in. He was breathing, and had been for some time while unconscious. If the air was going to kill him, it would have done it long before now.

  He craned his neck and peered out the ragged hole, squinting at the bright light from the twin stars in the sky.

  Those are two suns. One red, one yellow. That makes orange, he mused, still in shock as he began unbuckling from his crash harness. That means it was all real. What we saw before––

  Charlie shook his head, clearing it, then ran a quick self-assessment. “Snap out of it, Charlie,” he said to himself, the sound of his voice in the otherwise silent confines of the damaged space bringing him back to reality. “Okay, self-check. Any injuries?”

  He moved his arms and legs, took deep breaths, carefully turned his head side to side. Everything seemed in working order. He had been shaken up, but the walls of the small room had created a highly-reinforced, impact-resistant nook. It wasn’t designed for that purpose, but if he ever got out of this mess, he was damn sure going to thank the team member who drew up the specs.

  Ch
arlie tried the control panel, but power was fluctuating. Somewhere, a great many lines had been severed. As head of flight ops and engineering, it would be incumbent upon him to get them working and see his crew back to space. If that was even a possibility, that is. First things first. Get to the others.

  “Anyone out there?” he yelled at the closed door, pounding his fist on the cold metal.

  There was no reply.

  “Okay, then. We do this the shitty way,” he griped as he swung the manual release lever from its nook and began cranking.

  The door, while not bent, was reluctant to open. But Charlie had gotten into decent shape, thanks to Rika’s insistence. With a bit of work, an opening slowly appeared as the door slid into its frame.

  Of course. Damage to the panel covering where it retracts. The door’s fine, but the track isn’t, he reasoned. No matter. Just need to get it open enough to squeeze out.

  At long last a gap large enough to accommodate his frame had opened. Charlie sucked in his stomach as far as he could and slid out into the command center.

  “Shit,” was all he managed in the way of articulate speech when he saw the state of things.

  Where his little side compartment was relatively intact, the command center was torn to bits, gaping holes in the hull providing unplanned windows to the outside world where massive rocks had punched through the metal. Judging by the lay of the ship, most, if not all of the lower levels were either destroyed upon landing, or were now trapped beneath the surface of the desert they had plowed into.

  “Captain?” he said, searching for the man with a plan for every situation.

  His seat was gone, the snapped metal bolts that had held it in place jutting from the crumpled floor like so many broken toothpicks. A drying pool of red had leaked out from beneath the boulder embedded in the rear wall. Charlie knew where the captain had gone, and he would not be coming back.

  “Charlie?” a confused voice asked.

  “Rika! Where are you?”

  “I’m over––I don’t know where I am.”

  Charlie vaulted a mangled section of control console to where her voice had emanated. He saw a foot sticking out from beneath an impossibly jumbled mass of electronics, all torn free and deposited against the bulkhead, G-force the likely culprit.