Odd ends

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by G Russell Peterman

The Turver Run

  Trembling fingers reach upward, press a red panel, flinch when escaping air screams out as the outer airlock opens, and Orel's grief-filled face grimaces as a silver-toned titanium casket tumbles out into the dark swirling rust-colored mist of Vennit Nebula. Quickly, his wife's casket vanishes into the darkness and mist. His eyes clamp tight. For a long moment Orel struggles to erase this terrible scene and remember his beautiful Lind.

  His fingers slide downward, press a yellow panel that closes the outer airlock, and only then does Orel manage to remember his Lind-his wife. In his memory Lind is always seventeen wearing yellow with a plastic yellow butterfly in her unruly short-cut reddish-brown hair. His Lind stands on Paradise City's Anon Park Hover Pad smiling back at him. That was how their thirty-three years together started and ended with a brainstem tumor that the best medical machines on Appos could not remove or diminish. Tears form behind closed eyelids remembering again how strongly his dying Lind had argued for this last run. Her tears won. Orel gave in as he always did to her crying and made arrangements to accept the hundred-ninety-seven day run, the most dangerous and highest paying, to Turver Colony on the far edge of the colonized part of the galaxy. Most sensible freighters avoided it.

  Their blue-black ship, the Blue L, took on a cargo of seventeen cases, no heavier than a single man could easily carry two for balance, filled with memory cubes and other things for the Turver Colony. Things and cubes filled with information the Approsian authorities dare not send over normal communication channels. Public messages are sent to nearby solar systems for relay and rebroadcast several times. Local governments and others pay agents to look through all trans-galactic messages for useable information.

  Orel did not know or care what was in those seventeen cases, but he knew people would kill to possess them. He only cared that his beautiful Lind did not want to die on the planet of Appros, be cremated, and have her ashes scattered there. Lind had been born on an Eptimeran Freighter, spent most of her life in space, and wished her body released in the Vennit Nebula.

  Two weeks out Orel turned off all emitters. Left his filed in Appros flight vector by turning right 48 degrees and up three to aim for the closest piece of Vennit Nebula. His fingers selected 9 on the Automatic Star Drive (SD) panel and Orel let the ship's computer fly Blue L to and through a reddish mist as thick as planetary ground fog. It was dangerous charging ahead at high speeds without working sensors but Orel only cared about his dying Lind. During her last weeks they talked, held each other, and remembered their times together. The last two days Lind drifted in and out. While Orel held his precious Lind, she took her last breath.

  How long he stood remembering, Orel never knew nor cared. A growing pain in his lower back forced him to move on painfully stiff legs toward his pilot's chair. A control panel reflected an image of his sad oval face with slight white touches in his black hair at the temples. This look of aging surprised him; it always did. Glancing out through portals filled only with passing red mist in his grief the danger of flying blind did not register. Grief almost overcame him whenever Orel glanced at the empty co-pilot chair beside him. After closing his eyes for a moment, he was able to check the ship's instrument panels and decided everything was normal. Orel leaned back, closed his eyes, and returned to his remembering.

  Hours later, "Danger ? Danger ? Danger," screamed the automatic system as the computer shut-down all three engines and switched to emergency power. The sudden noise brought Orel back just as the siren's wail began. His finger muted the wail and voice. One-by-one frantic eyes searched control panels to locate the problem.

  "SD Transducer is out," Orel yells into the empty cabin as if Lind were still in the chair beside him. Old habits die hard. His fingers work feverishly on the command panel, turning off all automatic systems, and switching everything except emergency power and short range sensors to a manual off. Quick fingers set life-support at minimum, long range sensors off, and short range sensors on at one-quarter power. Orel shakes his head at the transducer panel. The sine-wave signature is gone and only a flat redline remained. Without a working transducer matter and anti-matter cannot mix safely, any attempt to restart his engine will cause an explosion. In this condition the Blue L cannot change course to avoid space objects or slow down to orbit. In his grief Orel's right index finger lifts and lowers to within an inch of "Restart." Orel thought seriously about pressing it and joining Lind, but finally shakes his head before removing the finger.

  His fingers bring up Blue L's stores and did not see a spare listed. "So worried about Lind I forgot to restock," Orel says aloud shaking his head angrily at his oversight. According to the computer there was enough emergency power for life-support at minimum levels for 42 days, 23 hours at maximum. Without engines or full use of his computer Blue L would continue drifting at the highest Star Drive speed more than 140,000 miles away from any help along the left edge of the Ruppadur system. All he knew for sure was that the Blue L and he are somewhere inside the Vennit Nebula. Without instruments Orel can only guess. Long distant sensors are shut down.

  An hour later on quarter-power the short range sensor panel starts blinking on and off. Orel wonders if that meant something is out there or that it does not work in this soup. With a nod of his head and shrug meaning he had done all he can, Orel returns to his remembering.

  A day later the mist level thins; a fist-sized dark gray object appeared in the cabin's front-view portal. It looked like a small gray orbiting space station without a planet nearby to support it; his minimum powered computer's Star Chart lists it as empty space. It is unknown.

  Sweeping the short range sensor over it makes the word "Miat" flash on the view-screen. Orel set the control out of habit to orbit, but without engines nothing happens. Blue L continues drifting on a collision course with Miat. As it closes rapidly a greenish tractor beam rises upward from the surface like a giant Green Racer garden snake and Blue L jerks when caught. The tractor beam slowly eased Blue L down toward Miat. Orel's fingers work small steering thrusters on manual to turn Blue L into a tail-down landing position just in case. On magnification level 8 it looked like a small city complex below. Orel sees a large open landing pad area in front; the tractor beam flawlessly set Blue L down there.

  All external gauges record breathable atmosphere outside. Orel drops the ramp, opens the airlock, exits with a charged laser in his hand, and walks toward those buildings. Halfway across the gray metallic deck under a greenish sky he stops when a door opens.

  An obviously holographic greenish robot rolls out.

  Orel stares.

  "I am Maas," it said when close.

  "I need repairs to my ship ... a transducer."

  "It will be looked at."

  "What will you need? A hook-up to my computer," Orel stammers.

  "No. We will scan it ? if you do not mind."

  "I don't mind. Go ahead."

  "Come with me please, Sir. I have food, drink, and a place to wait ready for you."

  Maas escorts Orel to a small room with a round table filled with fruits, three tall round glasses of a blue liquid, four chairs, and a lounge. After eating, surprised he was hungry, and sipping the sweet blue liquid Orel's mind drifts. With nothing to do but wait, he stretches out on the lounge.

  When Orel wakes he feels groggy, swing his feet to the floor, and sits up. While thinking about standing Maas reappears.

  "May I help you ? Sir?"

  "Yes. Is there anyone else on this planet besides you and me?"

  "Yes Orel, there is one."

  "Maas, what kind of place is this? I mean what goes on here!"

  "Miat is a pleasure colony."

  "Pleasure colony, you mean I have to pay like a tourist?"

  "No Sir-no payments-that sounds painful. This place is for pleasure and only pleasure."

  "I'm not sure I understand. How did you know my name? May I speak to the other person on this colony?"

  "This way," and Maas rolled away.

  Ore
l follows Maas down a long hallway and into a large open room. Orel stares, stops, and stands open-mouthed in complete confusion and shock. There before him stands a life-sized Lind, his Lind, the only girl and woman Orel had loved. Lind had died Orel knew and his wife's body floated somewhere in the Vennit Nebula mist. Yet, here before him stood his Lind exactly like the first day he met her wearing yellow and a yellow plastic butterfly in her hair. The words illusion, hallucination fills a mind struggling with reality.

  While Orel stares the Lind that cannot be there speaks in Lind's sweet pleasant and loving voice. "What is your pleasure, Sir?"

  Orel is in shock. It even sounds like Lind but does not say the things his wife would have said. His eyes stare at the curly short-cut half-messed up reddish-brown hair that seemed to resist any type of styling, her oval high cheekbones, deep-set green eyes, and thin red lips of his Lind. Everything about the illusion is Lind: strong shoulders, narrow hips, long almost thin legs, and a pinched in waist.

  That thing that was and was not his Lind repeats her question. "What is your pleasure, Sir?"

  Suddenly, Maas appears to be obviously agitated. "Sir ? Orel ? You both must leave ? quickly. We have, it seems, power difficulties. A force field can hold an atmosphere around this area for less than six of your minutes, and then space conditions. We have not been visited by a pleasure seeker since the red mist came, in your time 3,971 years ago. We used the last of our power to land your ship, duplicate your broken power transducer, and make this pleasure unit. Orel, your memory scan told us you needed this unit. She is top of the line and may leave this place. All our others cannot. Take her, these two cases, and leave here ? quickly. In one case is your transducer; the other holds an information cube about this unit for your computer. First, remember to say, 'It is my pleasure that you?or it would please me that you ... then say what you want this female unit to remember, change, or do. Now, you must quickly leav ?." Suddenly, Maas blinks three quick times, turns pale yellowish-green, and tries to speak-and fades away.

  Looking around for a moment before picking up the larger case Orel orders, "It is my pleasure that you call me Orel."

  His beautiful Lind unit smiled and replies, "Yes Orel."

  Hoping to keep the unit separated from his Lind memory Orel orders, "It would please me that your name is Lind."

  "How may Lind please Orel?"

  Orel points at the remaining smaller case. "Lind, it would please me if you carry that case and follow Orel."

  Dutifully the Lind unit bends, picks up the case, and follows Orel. He looks back often. Each time Orel notices that the unit walks just like his Lind had. At a rapid pace they walk back outside, cross the landing pad, and up the ramp into his ship. Orel waits for the ramp to lift and checks seals before he speaks.

  "It would please me if Lind puts the case on the floor and waits here."

  Orel picks up his case with the transducer, pulls his tool case out of a compartment, lifts a hinged floor panel, and installs the new unit in less than two and a half minutes as he had done more than a hundred times before. Returning Orel is surprised to find the Lind unit still standing there. Pointing Orel orders, "It would please me if you would sit in that chair ? Lind." Orel points at his wife's chair and lifts the other case.

  As ordered his Lind unit walks to Lind's chair and sits down.

  Orel slips into his pilot-chair, sets the other case down, and is quickly busy. In a little over two minutes all three engines are warm, roar to full power, and lift Blue L off Miat. Back in space Orel looks down at Miat for two climbing orbits watching the atmosphere shield fade to a pale green before slowly disappearing. Orel realizes that all power is gone and so is any possibility of even holographic life. A long column of dark smoke bursts out from the surface below the buildings. Even the power signature disappeared. Miat is now a lifeless small half-moon-sized metal ball floating in red nebula mist, a danger to spacecrafts. Feeling a sense of lost Orel's fingers punched in a course to return Blue L to its original course. With a sad shake of his head Orel pulls out a computer drawer for his Lind unit's information cube, slips in her cube, and leaves Miat's orbit.

  The screen tells Orel that the female pleasure unit will self-destruct after not seeing him for ten days, 240 hours. Failing that, the Lind unit will outlast Orel's lifetime without change. The unit does not normally need any power, but hours of heavy lifting made cause a need for recharging. Any food or drink intake her system will break down and store as material to make repairs to her person or convert to power. If damaged and unable to repair herself the unit will shut down and self-destruct. The Lind unit can eat, drink, and be in water. The Lind unit can learn and will be better at being what Orel wants her to be as time passes. If Orel is not pleased with the unit, he has only to say or type her destruct code: BEC8989-1. The Lind unit will then melt down and her computer explodes. A program sent her measurements to the Blue L's computer memory and transferred those to the Duplicator. The Lind unit was 282 pounds, a slender looking 5foot, 1 inch, and had unruly auburn hair.

  Orel loads a file of even more exact information into the Duplicator for Lind unit, female, age 17. Orel requests full sets of normal female attire in Lind's favorite colors: plain white, pale rose, pale blue, yellow-green, and pale yellow.

  Beyond Miat a safe distance, Orel readjusts his ship to normal SD 9 and course. His eyes stare into the reddish mist and a thought raced through his mind "I've still got more than four months to go." Again Orel forgets about the danger of traveling blind without sensors; his brown eyes keep sneaking looks at the Lind unit while fine tuning Blue L's course. On one of those peaks, Orel's world changes again. The Lind unit notices his glance, smiles, and his eyes stare openly at his passenger after that. His mind fills with a new thought, she's my Lind unit.

  "Two cups Cold Uropyan Tea," Orel orders aloud as his finger touch the duplicator panel. In a moment a small door opens on the Lind unit's side of the cabin. "Lind, it would please me, if you would serve our tea."

  "Yes Orel," the Lind unit replies turning to the right and taking out two tall slender cylinder cups with orange liquid in them. One tea the Lind unit hands to Orel, smiles, and keeps the other.

  "Thank you Lind."

  "You are welcome Orel."

  Orel sips his tea and Lind hers. It is so much like being with his wife Lind sitting and sipping tea together that Orel forgets and asks a question.

  "Do you remember the field of flowers on Adajsa?"

  "You picked a pale purple one for behind my ear, Orel. It was pretty and the scent delicate. You told me I was beautiful."

  "You know about that?" Orel blurts out in shock again. How could his Lind unit have that knowledge ? that memory?

  "Yes Orel, I know about that, about the strange fever that almost killed you on Eulens, and other memories. Orel, I have all of your memories, every single one. Ask me any question?"

  "What is the color of the Veessian sky at sunset?"

  "A beautiful pale maroon."

  "How many trips have we made to Ombrume?"

  "One ? you were so angry over their cheating ways that you said you would never go there again and have not. And you ordered Cold Uropyan Tea because it is my favorite. Thank you, Orel."

  "How did our son die?"

  "Dade died fighting Dakeon Pirates. You and Lind released his body in the Vennit Nebula. It was Lind's final wish to join her son."

  Through long hours they talk about his memories until the Lind unit and Lind blends into one in his mind. They ate stewed Myletican vegetables with yellow Approsian Ale for their evening meal. Hours later it did not seem strange to sit and talk to Lind still searching for a memory that he had that she did not.

  Just as Orel starts to feel tired and in need of sleep the computer screams over a wailing siren, "Danger ? Danger ? Danger." Clumsy tired fingers search to turn off the noise but Lind's finger finds the panel first. Instantly, Orel sees that the Blue L is near the edge of the swirling mist. In the strangely quiet cabin
a view-screen shows outside of the Vennit Nebula's swirling red mist and 1,800 hundred miles ahead a ship-a Ziribian Serrobat. As Orel quickly checks panels a computer voice screams, "Arming forward lasers." Orel knows that most raiders favor the winged-shaped Serrobat, nicknamed the Buzzard, because of its high speed, large cargo area, and twelve class nine lasers.

  "Too late to stay in the Nebula ... Computer what is the effective range of class nine lasers?"

  "Major damage: 486 miles. Minor damage: 723 miles."

  "Slow all engines to one SD. Turn ship 180 degrees." Orel's fingers tap the right-side thruster panel repeatedly and slowly the Blue L swings around. Gradually, Blue L heads tail-first straight at the Buzzard. Harmlessly weak red laser streaks flash around it, but not near enough to do any damage. Orel knows the firing is to keep their prey from running.

  "Lind, if their lasers touch our engines we explode," Orel laughs morbidly, "and they will not profit from bits of debris."

  Three engines reduced to low-normal power slow Blue L. It takes time and increases their danger. A slowing target is easy prey. Impatient, the raiders start the Buzzard forward. Laser streaks slow and stop. For eight long minutes Orel watches Blue L's speed drop to SD1. Blue L gives the appearance of stopping for a boarding without resistance.

  "Distance to Buzzard."

  "780 miles and closing."

  For a long difficult half minute Orel waits before ordering the computer, "Report every fifty miles."

  "650 ? 600 ? 550 ? 500 miles ? 450 ? 400 ? Collision in 4.7 minutes ? 300 ? 250 miles ? 200 ?powering down lasers ? 150 ... moving left for a boarding, re-arming one laser?100...ready for left-side cut cargo area...laser cut in 1 minute, 28.54 seconds."

  A new closer red streak flashes by beside the cabin. "Turning ship 67 degrees right, away from laser." Quick fingers press steering thrusters and Blue L turns. At 32 degrees Orel yells a new order, "Engines ? maximum thrust at earliest possible moment."

  "Maximum thrust in one?two?Now!"

  To Orel's surprise he realizes he had been listening to his Lind unit speak and not the ship's computer. He looks at his Lind unit.

  Vibrations shake Blue L as it stops slowing and changes directions quickly under full power. On the navigation screen a redline that traces Blue L's route bends to the right more and more sharply into a curving run back toward Vennit Nebula.

  "Buzzard 89 miles 42 degrees behind steering right ? laser trying for a side cut at the engine controls or cabin ? now powering all lasers ? suggest steering adjust 17 degrees right."

  To reduce the size of Blue L's target Orel's finger punch the thrusters back right 17 degrees and navigation now read 50 degrees right. On the navigation screen a redline curves toward the closest cloud of reddish mist and Orel eases Blue L left even closer to searching red laser streaks.

  "Distance to Buzzard increasing to 114 miles. Buzzard is turning on full power."

  "Mist ... How long?"

  "7 minutes."

  "Call it out."

  "6 ? 5 ? steer 2 degrees left ? 4 ? Buzzard 147 miles ? one degree right ? 3 ? Buzzard 181 miles ... arming all lasers."

  "Prepare for Burst Power."

  A red frizzling streak hangs briefly outside the right side portal no more than forty yards away and steering left 2 degrees widens that distance to almost a hundred yards. A second much to close red streak outside the left portal makes Orel adjust one degree right to bring it back halfway. Now, red streaks are on both sides of Blue L.

  "Hang on ? engaging Burst power," and Orel's finger presses a small red panel. It is Orel and Lind's last defense-speed. Red laser streaks start on all sides to limit any turning. Suddenly, Burst Power shoves him and his Lind unit back against their seats. Racing amidst red laser streaks the reddish mist seemed to leap at Blue L.

  "2 ?1 ? in mist ... lasers ceasing ? I suggest slowing to normal speed in 3."

  "Agree ... change in 2 to 9 degrees up-drift ? turn left 147 degrees ? slowing ? returning to course." Flying tail-first through the Nebula's red mist with full Burst Power quickly increases a curving Blue L's distance into the mist. Orel watches speed indicators drop slowly to zero and start up again.

  "Discontinue Burst Power and return to SD 9. Anything unusual ? any damage?"

  "Another beep."

  "What?"

  "Computer reports another sub-channel beep."

  "A locator ? where?"

  "Engine 2 cowling ? right side."

  "Now, we know how they found us and other ships. Stop all engines ? I'll go out and get it."

  In his repair suit Orel exits through the double airlock. Magnetic soles allow him to walk along the side of Blue L, locate, and dislodge a small one and a half inch circular magnetic disk. Inside again, Orel sticks it on the front of a probe, pushes the probe into a tube, and presses a compressed-air release panel.

  "Chase that," Orel mutters on the way back to his station. Sitting again in the pilot's chair his fingers gives the probe orders for a 2 degree right arc, a large circle to the right, and starts the probe's engine.

  "Silent running ? stop engines ? disengage Star Drive ? start Ion engine ? reduce to half power for three hours ? steer straight course for Turver Colony." His fingers make sure all sensors and emitters are off before adding, "Without a beacon to bring more trouble it should be a quiet journey. We will return to SD 9 in three hours." Orel studies a computer screen before looking at his Lind unit and adding, "Lind, we will have four months to get acquainted." Turning, Orel smiles at his Lind unit.

  The Lind unit smiles back at Orel. "Four months, two weeks, four days, two hours, and twenty-three minutes to be more exact." His Lind unit smiles at Orel and orders, "Two cups cold Uropyan Tea." Her fingers press the Duplicator panel and hands Orel his cup of tea. Still smiling the Lind unit asks, "It is Lind's wish that Lind talking to your computer did please Orel."

  "It did, Lind," Orel replies, returns her smile, and sips his tea.

  His Lind unit smiles and sips.

  Part four

  Historical fiction

 

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