“Yeah, I see it,” replied Wade. It's like I'm floating out in space, lookin' out a window.”
“Good. Now, just as soon as the system is finished powering up, we'll get moving. You're going to be relying on your display to find obstacles and enemy units. In a real Scrambler, you're going to want to keep your cockpit clean. Anything that marks up the canopy is going to lead to reduced visibility, which can be deadly in a dogfight. That's another reason why the helmet is important, even though it's a bitch to wear. Keeps your canopy from fogging up. So, let's get you acquainted with the controls, yeah?”
“Yes, sir!”
Gene and Rand eased their way towards the console to get a look at the display. “When he's through, I wanna go,” said Rand. “Shouldn't be long. He ain't gonna make a great pilot, not pushing a broom around all day like he's been doing.”
“Yeah, cuz being a cook is much better,” laughed Gene.
Mika shot them both a sharp glance and put a finger to her lips. “Watch,” she whispered, nodding towards the display. The two clammed up and watched.
“So, at your feet, you'll find two pedals. Each one controls a thruster. Right controls right, left controls left. Utilizing both at the same time will get you moving faster, whereas one or the other can help you make a sharp turn. Don't punch 'em unless you know what you're doing. You've got the yoke there, too. That's going to control what direction you're headed. Use the yolk to steer and the foot pedals to control your speed. Now, that small control column there, to your right? You see it?”
“Uh, yeah. The joystick thingy?” replied Wade.
“That's it. That's going to control your cannons. They fire simultaneously. Your canopy will be marked with a holographic overlay, which will assist you in tracking and locking onto your targets. We'll get to that later. That same overlay will let you know about any threats, such as bits of rock or debris. As you can tell, you're gonna be pretty busy, between steering, controlling the speed, targeting, firing and watching the display for any alerts. Think you can handle it?”
Wade waffled, laughing nervously. “I mean, I guess so...”
“All right. It looks like the system is all done priming. We're going to start the simulation now. Every part of your control console there is now functional. Take a bit to acquaint yourself with the controls,” said Jack, stepping back and watching his display more closely.
“So I can just, uh...” Wade nudged the yoke and was surprised when he felt the cockpit shift. The view changed slightly on his display. “Aw, man... it's like I'm really in space in this thing.”
“Just about,” said Mika into the microphone. “Why don't ya try and give it a little gas?”
Wade pressed gingerly on both foot pedals and was instantly pressed into his seat by the resulting G-force. He groaned. “Oh, man... that feels rough.”
“It's natural to feel that way,” said Jack. “It'll take you a while to get used to it. At first it feels like a punch to the gut, but the more time you spend in flight, the easier it gets.”
Wade pressed the pedals once more, grunting as the cockpit dashed forward. With the yoke, he steered to the right, pulling himself around in a circle.
“What are you doing there?” teased Mika. “You're going in a circle.”
“Uhh...” Wade turned the other way and played a bit with the foot pedals, hitting the left, then the right. He straightened himself and sighed. “All right... uh, what's next?”
Jack laughed. “Think you're ready to move on? We're going to throw an obstacle at you next.”
“Well the controls feel too sensitive, to be honest. The slightest bit of pressure sends this thing flying. I don't know how you guys whip outta the hangar at high speed and start dogfighting. I feel like I'd get thrown out of my seat.”
“That's what the harness is for. Until you get used to the G-forces and the rapid changes in speed and direction, you'll be relying on it quite a lot,” explained Jack. “Sure you don't want to tool around with the controls a bit more?”
“No,” replied Wade. “I think I have it... kinda.”
Jack pressed a button at his console and turned a few dials. In Wade's display, a large chunk of space rock materialized before him, a fair distance out. “All right, next, you're going to fly by this chunk of debris.”
“That's it?” asked Wade.
“Not as simple as it sounds. You need to fly by it... and NOT crash.” The others in the room laughed.
“Well, OK. I think I can manage that all right.” He tapped the pedals in unison and lurched forward. Keeping his hands on the yoke, he adjusted his direction carefully as he approached the thing. He took his feet off of the pedals a few times as he approached, changing his direction slightly before thrusting forward again. In a zig-zag pattern, he managed to stagger past the obstacle. A maneuver that should've taken but a moment was dragged out for nearly a minute and a half. In space, it would have looked absolutely ridiculous.
“There!” said Wade, skirting the edge of the obstacle. “I made it!”
Mika snickered. “Well, that was damn impressive. Maybe next time you'll actually fly by the thing, rather than just drifting past it.”
“Next up I'm going to stick an enemy fighter on your tail. You ready for that?”
“Sure,” gulped Wade. “Go for it.”
Turning another dial, a small starfighter appeared on Wade's display, cruising just ahead of him. “You've come upon an enemy vessel. Use the command column to lock onto it and then, when the overlay gives you the signal, I want you to press the trigger. Understand?”
“Y-yes.” Taking hold of the command column, Wade found it difficult to keep the ship straight. With one hand on the yoke and the other on the command column, he fought to keep things steady. “Uh... uh, is it supposed to be this hard to keep it steady?” The fighter ahead of him took off at a higher speed, leaving him trailing behind. In an effort to keep up, he hit both of the foot pedals, taking off at great speed and nearly crashing into the enemy. “Shit!” he muttered, jostled in his seat. His finger grazed the trigger, sending a number of shots into space. He hadn't managed to lock on.
“Yeah, it's going to take some time before you can master each individual task, much less tackle 'em all at once,” said Jack. “For right now, just focus on speed and targeting. It's OK if you drift a bit too much to the right or left. When you go to correct the course, do it slowly. You're overcorrecting at the moment, which is why you have trouble staying on the right track.”
Wade fumbled for a moment, drawing the harness away from his throat. “So, I can just lock onto him like--” The enemy fighter doubled back and fired upon him, ending the simulation abruptly. “Hey, what gives!” he yelled. “I was just going to get him!”
Mika laughed. “You don't get the luxury of time in battle. You can't sit around waiting for a good opportunity to open up. Gotta make your own. Otherwise, you're toast.”
“Next up, let's have Rand take a try,” said Jack, opening the entrance and waving Rand over.
Wade removed the harness and emerged from the simulator with a sheepish grin. “Gonna need some practice, I guess.”
Rand laughed, patting him on the arm and hopping into the cockpit. “Watch and learn!”
Gene frowned. “Is he being serious right now? What makes him think he's going to be much better?”
As before, when Rand had secured the harness and put on the helmet, the cockpit was closed and the simulation began. His view was filled with open space. “Go ahead and put a few obstacles out there, Mr. Savage. I'll bet I can maneuver past all of 'em.”
“I'm not sure that's...” began Jack before Mika shoved him out of the way.
“More obstacles, ya say?” Mika leaned over the console and turned a number of dials. On the display, there materialized a number of medium-sized space rocks. “How's that? Difficult enough for you?”
Rand gave a slight chuckle. “Yeah, I mean, it's not like the rocks are moving, so... they shouldn't be too hard to a
void.” He pressed the foot pedals and began forward, adjusting his yoke cautiously. He started and stopped a few times, jerking the cockpit around awkwardly.
Mika smirked. “I guess it wouldn't be too hard... if he actually knew how to fly the thing.”
One of Rand's feet slipped from the pedal just long enough to send him veering to one side. As he scrambled to right himself, he accelerated into one of the rocks, ending the transmission.
Gene rolled his eyes. “Figures.”
The cockpit was opened and Rand stepped out, looking annoyed. “Yeah, well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “I don't think that cockpit is set up right; I don't think that a proper starfighter probably steers that way.”
“That's one of the shortcomings of the simulator. It's not exactly like real flight, but it's close enough to give you an idea of what to expect,” said Jack, nodding to Gene. “You're up.”
“And real flight is tougher, seeing as how it ain't a simulation. Your life is actually on the line when you're in a Scrambler,” added Mika. “You take care not to blame your equipment on stuff; that's a bad habit to get into. You need to learn to realize your flaws so that you can build on 'em. Blaming your machine is a good way to get yourself killed.”
Rand folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Well, let's see how Gene does. Bet he doesn't do a whole lot better.”
Gene took his place in the cockpit and a few moments later, the simulation began. When the display lit up, he accelerated slowly, wheeling himself around in a circle. He didn't seem to have a problem with the G-forces, and accelerated a bit more, taking off for a distance at great speed.
“Not bad, Gene. You seem to have a pretty good grip on the controls. An obstacle now?”
“Sure,” replied Gene. On his display appeared a large rock.
“Remember,” explained Jack, “you just need to get by it. Make sure your wings don't clip it as you go past.” As he finished explaining however, he realized that Gene had already sped past it. With a slight dip, he'd flown straight past the thing. “Wait a minute, did I see that right?” he asked Mika.
“Not bad, kid,” said Mika through the microphone. “Let's try a few more.” She turned a dial and filled the display with a few more of the rocks. These varied in size, and were arranged in such a way as to make it more difficult to navigate.
Gene grunted as the G-forces pressed him back. Carefully he cut speed and sailed past the first and second rocks. He accelerated as he reached the third, soaring over it at a close margin and eliciting surprise from the others in the room.
“Good going,” said Jack. “Going to put an enemy spacefighter out there for you. Ready?”
“Yeah!” replied Gene, gripping the control column. The spacefighter appeared in his view, and with nary a pause he maneuvered into place behind it. The enemy rocked from one side to another, feigning evasion. Keeping an eye on his overlay, he saw it blink and squeezed the trigger. “Gotcha!”
The enemy starfighter exploded and everyone in the room proved stunned. Jack shut off the simulator and ordered Gene to step out. “That was some decent flying, kid. But I don't imagine that's your first time in the simulator, is it?”
Gene pulled off the helmet and grinned. “Nah, I've flown it a few times over the years. When Miss Cleo does maintenance on it, she lets me fool around.”
Mika laughed. “You don't say. Well, you seem to have the basics down. You two, on the other hand,” she said, turning to the others. “You're going to need a few more runs before I even think about sticking you in Scramblers.”
Wade congratulated Gene on his flight, while Rand shrugged it off. “He's got more practice than us, so it's only natural that he should be better at it. Just wait and see. When I've had more practice, I'll fly with the best of them.”
Jack shut off the simulator and opened the door. “All right, all of you are dismissed. I'll come and get you when Mika and I have had a bit of time to discuss your training regimen. Remember to move your things to the pilot quarters. You'll be staying there from now on. Next to the hangar. We saw it on our way in, remember?”
“Yessir,” they replied, leaving the room.
As they left, Mika slapped Jack on the arm. “You see Gene fly? We might make a pilot outta him yet!”
“Hopefully we can make successful pilots of all three of them,” replied Jack.
***
Sitting bolt upright in bed, her heart thundering in her ears, Stella pressed her hands to her head and tried to force out her memories of the intruder. The strange breathing, the chilling sound of its claws traveling across the hatch... Faust had allowed her a break earlier in the evening, as she'd been too tired to complete her duties. Nonetheless, she hadn't been able to do much in the way of sleeping before her mind was crowded with horrors. She didn't feel at all rested, her head pounding, her mind foggy. She remembered also the anomaly on S.A.L.V.O, the strange, nearly soundless thing that'd vanished before Methuselah could make its move. Recalling it, she found herself filled afresh with terror. Never before had she sensed such insidious and inhuman things. Cradling her arms, she rose from her bed and crept to the door.
The hallway was quiet, save for the pounding footfalls of a familiar crewman. Before she'd even made it out of her room entirely, she knew it to be Faust. Crossing the hall, she felt her way towards the S.A.L.V.O chamber, running a hand against the wall till her palm met the familiar cold of the hatch. She ran her hands across it in search of any imperfection and found, squarely at its center, a small but noticeable scratch. A chill ran down her spine as her finger met the scrape. It knew I was in there.
“What are you doing up, Stella?” asked Faust as he came down the hall. “Aren't you supposed to be resting?” He'd let his hair down, and it framed his tired face in a grungy fashion. She could hear in his voice just how exhausted he was.
“I'm sorry,” she said, turning towards him. “I couldn't sleep. I keep having dreams and I felt drawn to the chamber. These things we're fighting against... we should avoid them at all costs. Human beings weren't meant to interact with these creatures, whatever they are.”
“Oh?”
Stella continued. “In my dreams, I've seen them. I mean, I haven't seen them, but I have a glimpse into their biology, into their...” she cleared her throat. “They're terrible, and they possess technologies that we can't even begin to--”
Faust put a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.”
“It's not too late for us to turn back. To call this entire war quits. We can just find a place to hide till at all blows over.”
“I'm sorry,” said Faust, shaking his head. “I wish it were that easy. The threat must be met with force. There's no way around it now. We can't possibly co-exist with them... and by the sounds of it, they aren't the kinds of things you'd like to share the galaxy with anyway.”
Stella sighed, her lips quivering.
He smiled. “I'm on my way to the mess hall for a late night snack. Haven't eaten much today. Join me, won't you?”
Stella nodded and followed him down the hall. She wasn't at all in the mood to eat, but she found herself in need of company.
“You've been doing a wonderful job these past few days,” said Faust, trying to lighten the mood. “I know we've been relying on you a lot.”
She nodded, but had little else to say on the matter.
“How is S.A.L.V.O treating you? Anything you're in need of?”
Stella shrugged. She'd thought, or rather, wished, that S.A.L.V.O had been malfunctioning. When it'd finally sunken in, though, that she'd come across something she could scarcely identify, she found herself immensely frightened. So frightened was she that prospect of returning to her duties was enough to make her want to burst into tears. Putting on the headset and trawling space for enormous distances, she was bound to find something. And what if she did? What if she found yet more horrible things? Her talents were useless if the ship couldn't fend off the threats she detected.
Faust
led the way into the mess hall, which was more or less empty, save for a sleepy-looking cook leaning over the back counter. “Oh!” said the cook, standing upright. “What can I do for ya, Cap'n?”
The pair took a seat at a table near the kitchen. “I'd like a steak and a mug of coffee. Anything for you, Stella?”
Stella hesitated. “I'm not really hungry...”
“Just the steak and coffee, then,” said Faust.
The cook gave a salute and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Why do we have to confront them?” asked Stella, wringing her hands beneath the table. She tapped a nervous cadence upon the floor with her slippered toes. “They aren't like us... they're monsters, Captain. No good can come from messing with them. Even if we do win...”
“We'll never be able to forget what we've seen. Is that what you were about to say?”
Stella nodded.
“The Earthlings and the space-born will be forced to live in constant fear. We'll have to wonder, as we watch them plunder Earth, whether they'll come for us next. That sort of life isn't something I can imagine. We have to do this work because no one else will, Stella. Understand that I'm not just flippantly putting you or the rest of the crew in harm's way. This conflict on Earth affects us all. I don't believe that such terrible creatures should be allowed to settle in this galaxy, and that's why we're going to fight back. I prefer the Earthlings to these things as neighbors, at least.”
Still, this wasn't enough to set her at ease. “But the Zhoiri... how many are there? And what if we can't beat them? What if we all lose our lives and then the galaxy falls to them?”
Faust combed the hair from his face and rest his stubbled chin on his hand. “I guess we'll simply be advancing the hands of the clock a wee bit then, won't we? If we fight them and learn we can't win, then we're sunk either way. It's only a matter of time. As captain of Methuselah, I want to go down fighting though. I want to test my mettle against this new enemy, and if I find that I can win, I'll chase them all back as far as I can. Along the way, perhaps we'll find others who can help us.”
Stella couldn't hold back a snicker. “We're not exactly well-liked in space, Captain. We have more enemies than friends up here.”
A Memory of Violence Page 11
