by Jerry Aubin
Zax beamed at the cadet. It was impossible to explain it any better.
“One hundred credits for not falling into the trap I set when I said ‘the reason’ and another five hundred for such a perfect answer. I’ve run some numbers over the last day and have estimated that, if we head straight back to Earth right now, it will take us approximately twelve years to arrive. This is based on performing one Transit per day which is the upper limit of where we know there are zero negative side effects. That’s just a rough estimate based on information I gathered quickly from the public Ship’s logs, but it should be correct within a year or two in either direction. What would we find when we got there?”
Zax acknowledged a girl who sat in the middle of the room.
“We’ll find a dead planet. Right, sir?”
“Yes. Absolutely. This Ship was only launched after the best minds on Earth realized the planet was doomed. Since all of those folks then left as part of the original Crew, it’s absolutely impossible for anyone who remained behind to have stopped that slide into destruction. So, if the other humans out here exploring the universe aren’t coming from Earth, where are they coming from?”
Silence. Zax made eye contact with every cadet in the room. Most looked away in an effort to avoid being called on, but even those who held his gaze did so without offering an answer.
“Come on,” Zax prodded, “you mean to tell me that none of you have any ideas?”
“Sir, you already answered the question.” It was the first boy who had spoken, and his tone was perhaps straying back into mocking territory. “You confirmed what all of us already understood. Earth is dead. That means the only other humans out here came from one of our colonies. Do you really expect anyone to believe that any colonists we’ve left behind, even the very earliest ones who’ve had 5,000 years to advance, might engage in interstellar travel?”
“I agree that any of our colonies would be hard pressed to leave their planet even after 5,000 years. Not if they were given 25,000 years, however. After that amount of time, I think it’s not only possible, but likely, that at least one colony should reach that point in their advancement.”
The room erupted in excited chatter. The girl in the front row raised her voice with a question.
“Sir—my understanding has always been that using the FTL doesn’t result in any time dilation. Are you saying that’s incorrect?”
Zax smiled. “Glad to see I’m not the only cadet who ever studied something that wasn’t covered in the lessons. One hundred credits. There are a lot of blank looks around the room, though. Can you please explain to the others what you mean by time dilation?”
“The effect of time dilation was confirmed back when Earth first sent satellites into orbit, sir. Scientists discovered that clocks aboard those satellites moved at slightly different rates than clocks back on the ground. This effect became even more pronounced as humanity traveled further away from Earth. If someone on a spacecraft travels far enough and fast enough, when they return to their origin they will have experienced the passage of less time than what elapsed at home. This effect gets more and more pronounced the closer you travel to the speed of light, but it doesn’t happen at all when we Transit faster than light.”
“One hundred credits. You’re on a roll today.” The girl had clearly mastered the concept, but the expressions among the rest of the cadets suggested she might be the only one. Zax pressed on regardless. “You’re also absolutely correct when you say that our FTL technology does not result in any time dilation. I’m going to leave the discussion about why that’s true for a future instructor, however, as it’s far beyond anything this group is prepared to understand today. So if the FTL doesn’t cause time dilation, and yet I’m insisting that our earliest colonies have experienced somewhere around 20,000 years’ worth of additional time than we have, what are you missing?”
Zax let the silence go on for three mins. He had given up hope of anyone offering an answer when the first boy spoke up again without raising his hand.
“It isn’t the FTL which causes the time dilation. It’s when we’re moving without using the FTL.”
“Correct! Fifty credits for getting the answer, though I have to hit you with ten demerits for not having raised your hand and another ten for not calling me sir.” Zax had chosen the high road earlier and not slammed the boy for his hypocrisy, but he wasn’t above exacting a slight bit of revenge for the prior abuse he had suffered. “Can you please explain to the other cadets what you’re talking about.”
The boy made a face at the mention of demerits. He acted like he wanted to retort but then sat up straight instead. “Well, sir, the Ship isn’t moving right now because of all the work being done to recover from the Revolution. Most of the time that isn’t true.”
“Inertial dampeners!”
It was the girl in the front row again. She had slapped her forehead with the heel of her palm when she spoke out. Zax gestured for her to continue.
“My apologies for the interruption, sir. I was disappointed to realize I had been so stupid with my earlier answer. Our inertial dampeners make us feel like the Ship isn’t moving even though at full impulse power we’re traveling at 99.9 percent the speed of light.”
“Well done, cadet. Can you explain to the others what inertial dampeners are?”
“Certainly, sir. The force of inertia creates strict limits on how fast spacecraft can accelerate or decelerate if there are humans on board. That’s why our fighter pilots only transfer their consciousness to their craft. Scientists back on Earth spent hundreds of years trying to address the effects of inertia but never succeeded until the Ship. Counterintuitively, it becomes easier to dampen inertia as the mass of the body that is being compensated for increases. That is why they finally succeeded once they had something as massive as our asteroid to work with.”
“Great answer. One hundred credits. My favorite thing from that period on Earth was how frequently this technology was referenced in their popular entertainment before it was actually invented. Inertial dampeners were typically a plot device to quiet the more knowledgeable observers who said space travel wasn’t possible in the manner in which it was often portrayed.” Zax checked the time and then stood up. “I’d love to continue this discussion, but unfortunately I’ve got to get to Flight Ops for my first shift since it’s been rebuilt. I likely won’t see you cadets again as an instructor, though I suppose it’s possible. Perhaps one of you might be good enough to qualify for the Pilot Academy someday, and I’ll be your trainer there.”
With those last passive aggressive reminders to the Gammas about how far he had risen since they last saw him, Zax left the compartment. The afterglow of a fun discussion soon faded as the reality of what awaited him in Flight Ops returned.
9
Can you hear me?
Zax entered Flight Ops to find a compartment nearly the same as when he had last been there a year ago. And yet, it was completely different. The biggest change was the people. Between those Crew who had moved on to other duty stations since Zax had worked there last and those who were killed when the civilians blew up the compartment last week, they were a group he had mostly never met. The two most important exceptions were Kalare and the Boss, the latter of whom looked up and acknowledged Zax as he stood at the threshold of the compartment.
“Cadet Zax—welcome to the new and improved Flight Ops. It’s good to have you back. The Threat chair hasn’t been the same without you.”
The Omega’s tone was genuine, but Zax fought to present a pleasant demeanor back to the man. He drew strength from Kalare, who sat in the Flight chair, and her smile of greeting. He stood tall and looked the Boss straight in the eye.
“It’s a pleasure to be back, sir. I can’t say enough about how much I appreciate the opportunity to serve here alongside you and the rest of the Flight Ops team again. Thank you for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
He was charging headfirst into danger, but when he accepte
d the Boss’s offer to return a week ago, Zax did so knowing he would have to fully commit. He would be a team of one until he dug up enough evidence to convince Kalare the Boss was indeed behind Mikedo’s death and the attempt on both their lives, but he was confident he would eventually win her to his side. In the meantime, he had to sell the Boss that he was dedicated to whatever the Omega wanted him to do. Distasteful, sure, but nowhere near as hard to swallow as a lifetime spent surrounded by sewage.
Zax turned toward the Threat chair and was pleased to discover Rege had not yet arrived. He checked the time, and when he found the shift was about to start, Zax allowed himself to dream that perhaps Rege had been reassigned elsewhere. He sat down and lost himself in the configuration for the newly installed Threat station. Fifteen mins later the compartment hatch opened, but Zax didn’t bother to look up until the Boss spoke.
“Civilian—what do you think you’re doing strolling in fifteen mins late for your very first shift?”
The tone of the Omega’s voice brought everyone’s attention to the hatch where Rege stood with a look of pure insolence. The Boss icily held the civilian’s gaze until Rege turned and, without a word, walked toward Zax. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he approached.
“Good morning, young Zax. How are—”
“Civilian! What makes you think you can disturb my compartment yet again? Threat—please help your idiotic mini understand proper protocol, and get him configured with a subvoc so I don’t have to hear his damn voice again.”
Rege directed a baleful gaze toward the Boss, but the Omega had already turned his attention elsewhere. The civilian’s face flashed crimson after being publicly mocked and then just as quickly ignored. Zax suppressed a smile. It was going to be rough enough working with Rege given how the man held Zax at least partially responsible for his brother’s death, but Zax didn’t need to give the civilian a reason to despise him even more. He reached for the subvoc and handed it to Rege as he addressed the civilian with a whisper.
“The rule in here is that you only speak aloud when you’re sharing information that is needed by everyone in the compartment. If you’re having a private conversation with anyone, it should be done silently. Crew who are old enough use their Plugs for direct communication. Younger cadets—and I suppose anyone else who hasn’t been Plugged In—use subvocs.”
Rege took the device from Zax and gaped at it as if it was some kind of alien artifact. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
Zax lost his composure and laughed out loud at the civilian’s ineptitude. Rege’s response was an immediate and intense look of hatred that made Zax fear the long-term repercussions.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything. It’s just entirely foreign to me that you don’t know how to use a subvoc. Crew children use these in the creche before we even learn how to walk. You need to slip it around your throat, and then it will take care of the rest.”
Rege stared dubiously at the device which wasn’t big enough to fit around his wrist much less get over his head and down around his throat. Did the attendants in the creche ever get frustrated with trying to teach kids such basic life skills? At least toddlers have an excuse—they’re toddlers. Perhaps that was the secret for training Rege successfully—Zax needed to treat him like a child.
“Give it a slight tug as if you’re trying to stretch it larger, and it will open to fit over your head. Once it’s around your throat, it will automatically close and position itself.”
Rege almost dropped the subvoc when he startled as it opened in response to him following Zax’s instructions. The civilian placed the device around his throat and stared at Zax with wide-eyed apprehension as it constricted and positioned the various components at the appropriate spots on his face.
“Can you hear me?”
“What the—whoa!”
Zax glanced over at the Flight Boss who was engrossed in something on a screen and didn’t react to Rege’s verbal exclamation. He needed to get the civilian to remain quiet before that changed.
“The Boss isn’t going to care one bit about your relationship with Imair if you don’t shut up while you’re working in here. I don’t know what punishment he might give you since you’re not on the Leaderboard, but I can promise you don’t want to find out. Nod your head if you hear and understand me.”
Rege nodded and his earlier expression of surprise was replaced with one that was once again closer to malice.
“Boy—if you think you’re going to keep talking down to me like this, you’re going to find out what punishment I might give you.”
Zax went wide-eyed in response to the threat and Rege responded similarly.
“Wait—did you just hear that? I didn’t say anything at all. I was thinking it to myself. It’s true, but I was going to save it for later.”
Zax suppressed the grin that was poised on his lips. He needed to treat Rege not only like a toddler but more specifically like a toddler who was on the verge of a dangerous tantrum.
“There’s a thin line between thought and intention to speak. It’s great that you learned the lesson so quickly with the low stakes of speaking with me privately rather than the Boss or all of Flight Ops. You’ll probably have another couple of accidental outbursts during today’s shift, but I’ve always heard that Crew toddlers get the hang of this in only a couple of hours. You’re probably at least as smart as a Crew toddler, right?”
“Be careful, boy. And I’m saying this to you on purpose in case it isn’t obvious on my face. I’m still under Imair’s orders from the Revolution to not kill you, but I can’t be responsible for any accidents that might happen when you walk past a malfunctioning airlock.”
Zax ignored the threat and focused on the first part of what Rege said. Imair had protected Zax during the Revolution? His head swam, and the surprise must have registered on Zax’s face because Rege’s expression transformed from menace to perverse delight.
“You didn’t know? What did you think, Zax, that you somehow tricked me into not killing you all on your own? Without her protection, you would have been dead as soon as I had my brother’s knife back to carve you up with.”
Imair had made it clear she had not intended to kill Nolly, but her lack of significant remorse had left Zax feeling she was not that much better than Rege. Why was she shielding Zax—especially after he had tried to disrupt her plans?
“Cadet Zax,” the Boss’s voice interrupted Zax’s confusion, “You got that civilian using a subvoc without him somehow hurting himself. Those must be pretty impressive training skills. Now let’s see you do the impossible and make him the least bit useful.”
Rege swiveled toward the Boss. This time the Omega locked eyes with the civilian and held his gaze for a min. The civilian’s body tensed and he clenched his fists until the Boss delivered a dismissive smirk and turned away. Zax took advantage of the man’s rage being focused elsewhere to get redirected toward work. He pointed at the Threat board.
“What do you know about any of this stuff?”
“I think you already know the answer to that question, boy. Why don’t we agree that you can speak to me like a child one last time to explain it all?”
Teach a civilian with a hair-trigger temper everything about working the Threat board in the span of a quick conversation. While he was still learning how to communicate over subvoc. It was a lose-lose proposition, but what choice did Zax have?
“Sure. Let me give you six months’ worth of training in five mins. No problem. Our job on the Threat board is to monitor for any signs of danger to the Ship and call out anything we see, so the Boss and other folks around us can evaluate and choose the appropriate action. Generally, a threat takes the form of aliens in the midst of battle, but sometimes it may be as simple as an errant space rock.
“I’m in charge of the board, and whenever someone calls out to Threat, they want something from me. You are Mini-Threat and your workstation is functionally identical to mine
so you can watch everything I do and soak in as much as you can. Each functional area is arranged the same way with a primary and a mini. Just because I’m the one in charge doesn’t mean you can sit back and relax because the Boss is well-known for calling out to the various minis to be sure they’re paying attention. If he asks you a question, give him the answer. If you don’t know the answer, admit you don’t know instead of trying to fake it. Outside of that, you should not speak aloud or communicate with anyone other than me. Understood?”
The civilian nodded with the faintest hint of a smile creasing his mouth.
“Thank you, cadet. When do we start doing this for real?”
“You’re Imair’s right hand—shouldn’t you know when the action is going to start?”
Rege grinned before he replied and it made Zax’s blood go cold.
“Soon. All of the action will definitely start soon.”
10
One last thing.
Imair was running late, but one benefit of being in charge was the certainty that meetings wouldn’t start without her. Especially a meeting to make the final decision about their journey. The amount of critical work since the Revolution was never-ending, and Imair was excited to finally bring the senior leadership together again to reach agreement on plans for heading back toward Earth. As she approached the compartment, she found the Boss about to enter ahead of her.
“Good morning, Boss. I guess I’m not the only one running late today.”
The man stopped and turned around. “My apologies, Madam President. It’s good I won’t be disrupting a meeting that has already started. I still haven’t gotten used to walking everywhere. I’m looking forward to getting the Tube up and running again.”
