Interstellar Starpilots

by F Stephan

  When she was satiated, Leandra went back to their discussion. “How is Brian? Attaché Even and her assistant supply me with updates on your rankings, but I am not sure of their meaning. Your mate can be hard to read at times."

  Emily laughed, a deep laugh that echoed in the subterranean room. “He truly can be." Then, she sobered. “I don’t know. The staff has separated us.” She quickly summarized her misgivings. “His results aren’t good. His crew isn’t happy. I don’t like his new friends. And there is nothing I can do." Emily felt helpless and she hated it.

  “Should I go and talk with him?” Leandra was deeply concerned by the change of luck concerning Brian, from his unpredictable qualification to his potential demise.

  “No.” Emily shook her head, eyes glistening slightly. “That wouldn’t do any good right now.” This was final.

  Leandra sighed. “So, we need you to save the day and prove our planet can provide reliable pilots."

  Emily bowed her head. “Without a miracle, yes, Madam, this is what needs to happen." Running a tin can between stars was not her calling. She knew it deep inside her. But with everything that had happened before she left Earth, she couldn’t turn back. She had no options. She looked at her bracelet and got up. “I have to catch my ferry. Can we go?”

  “My treat today, Emily. Let me walk you back to the harbor," Leandra said. Emily tried to insist, but the ambassador quickly paid the waiter. Emily was in a sad mood, her eyes glistening, and Leandra walked with her without a word.

  When they reached the wharf, Emily quickly jumped on the ferry without looking back. “Thank you, Madam Ambassador. Next meal is on me," she called over her shoulder.

  Later that night, a hidden dish on the Origin’s headquarters sent a new report to the silent satellite. It continued to compile and insert the data into the Core Data Sphere.

  Brian

  Alkath, 2140 AD, October

  That same morning, Alvam stood at the railing while the crew finished the preparations to cast off. “You’re sure you don’t want to go?” Brian nodded and took a step back to look at the ship. It was a sleek azure platform resting on three foils. On its side, hooks allowed hunters to hang out of the platform. Alvam had recruited a group of the east wing students to spend their Sunday out on the deep sea in a hunting party. Poulem hovered beside Alvam, mouthing silently to Brian “Good choice!” Brian had also been invited, but with his poor results, he wanted just to rest. Now, he watched the boat leave the harbor on its solar propeller until the wind caught the sails and the magnificent boat rose on the foils. He ached for this kind of freedom. A few minutes later, the sea farms that surrounded the island hid the vessel.

  After a quick breakfast, Brian contacted Shanak, Emily, and the others from Adheek. Emily had left for Shaian’an’rim that very morning and was out of range. Shanak had just left on an air balloon for a tour of the archipelago with some of their friends. In the end, Brian found no one.

  Great, a full day on the island all alone. That won’t improve my social standing.

  All morning, he walked the lower island, amid the fields and the smaller villages. This was a peaceful life, if a bit dull. Solar carts rumbled past him on the narrow roads. Many worked in the orchards, manually pruning trees. Brian felt he had jumped backward into a medieval land. Then, the trees struck him. They were all perfect. No gnarled tree limbs. All had perfectly distributed branches in all directions. No natural trees would grow like this. He also noticed the cart moved without any sound, perfectly balanced and lightweight on the smooth and neat dirt roads. These people might be living a simple life today, but their world needed, or had needed, a lot of technology to allow for this.

  At lunchtime, he had completed his circle of the lower island and was back at the main harbor. There, at a small café, he ate a quick meal of seaweed and fish before ascending back to the academy.

  He decided to do the same tour from above, with a better view of the sea. He hoped to learn more about the surroundings of the outlying buildings of the academy. At first, he was disappointed. He found modern factories, solar or wind farms, kitchens, and all the facilities needed for such a large enterprise. It was efficient, well organized, recently updated, but, again—dull.

  Then, hidden behind a large warehouse, invisible from the main buildings, he chanced on an observatory. He had no other words to describe the small domed tower on a stretch of rocks overlooking the sea. Its plaster was white, its condition perfect, as if it had been commissioned that very morning. Ancient.

  Eager to know more, he went to the door and knocked. A wizened old man answered and motioned him in. He was the oldest person Brian had met in Federation space. All his silver skin was wrinkled and spotted, his hairs were white and sparse, his body gnarled. No one showed such an outward appearance of age. For all that, his eyes were clear, and his walk back into the house didn’t falter.

  “Welcome, young Brian. You took your time, didn’t you? Based on young Heikert’s message, I had expected to see you sooner." The voice was frail and rasping.

  Brian gasped for words. Heikert, expected. Who was expected? Then, it was as if lightning struck him.

  “Master Kilre?” He had meant to follow up on Master Heikert’s recommendation that he meet his mentor, but had always had other businesses to attend to. And then, another thought struck him. “He said he wouldn’t send any electronic communications.”

  “Please, call me Loupiac. You don’t need to be formal here, whatever my pupil thought.” Laughter sparkled throughout this answer. “As for your question, young Sonter Namek dropped by. As painful as his sire and grandsire. But true to his word.”

  Sonter, his sire and grandsire? That was too much information for Brian to absorb. “Your pupil, sir?”

  “Heikert. And don’t sir me. It makes me feel older, and I’m old enough as it is. Now, we’re going to the main lookout where you will gape at the sea for a few minutes. It will give you time to find good reasons for why you ignored the advice of your master and didn’t come sooner. During that time, I’ll find some Zalam for us to drink. You look like you need some.” The old man turned left into a small kitchen while motioning Brian to go into the room ahead. Entering, he was blinded at first by the light coming from the large bow windows that overlooked the sea. “In the evening, I download the images from the scope above, on the windows. Feels like I’m back in space." The old man continued talking from the adjoining room. Brian tried to picture himself at night, sitting in the main chairs, traveling mentally among the stars.

  “What is the scope resolution, Sir, uh, Loupiac?”

  “Unbelievable.” The old man cackled. “Repairing it was one of the greatest achievements of the merchant prince Ythan'an'shai. When his wife died, he retired here, the first island he had rediscovered on his trip from the continent. I had it coupled to the main star chamber to enhance the picture with the data found there.”

  Brian gasped. This was a dream come true. He had always found peace in the star chamber.

  The old man came into the room with a small tray, a couple of weed biscuits, two small glasses, and a dark bottle. He settled himself in a side chair and poured the liquor.

  “Now, your excuse? Have you found any?” Brian gaped at the old man. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to drink with me as an apology.”

  “I’ve been too busy with all the works our teachers—” began Brian.

  “Drink and stop being lame. I hate weakness. You could have come anytime you chose. From your results, you need help.” Brian looked down at his glass sheepishly and quickly drank the Zalam. He coughed a couple times from the strength of the alcohol. On the other chair, Loupiac sipped his drink slowly.

  “I wanted to try to succeed on my own.”

  “Better. Or at least honest, if stupid. Sometimes, I wonder how our fine selection process can find such stupidly intelligent people. Or the opposite. Well, good news. You found your way here.”

  Brian decided to continue with hones
ty. “I may have been afraid of you. I don’t need more trouble than I’ve got already.”

  “Afraid? Of me? No one has been afraid of me since young Heikert. Few have listened to me, anyway.” Cackles were followed by a series of coughs. Brian started to rise but the old man motioned him back. “My nanites cannot fight all the decay in my body. But they still do a decent job of keeping me alive! Afraid.” He looked into space for a few seconds. “This is fun. I suppose Heikert is still a bit stern?”

  “Yes, sir. That could describe him.” The understatement made Brian wince.

  Loupiac sighed. “Oh. So, it has worsened. You know, he was quite a merry chap when he was young. Then his wife died. A part of him left with her.” Brian hadn’t been able to find any information about his master on the Core Data Sphere, but the elderly seemed to know everything.

  “But enough about Heikert. He recommended you, and he usually has a good nose for students. Tell me how things are going from your side."

  A dam broke, and Brian found himself telling the old man all his difficulties both on Adheek and Alkath—the lack of reliability in his nanites, and his doubts about this life. Loupiac sat patiently listening to Brian’s rambling. After a long while, he raised his hand. Brian stopped.

  “Before we go further, do you want help or not?”

  “Yes . . .” mumbled Brian. Anything for a way out.

  “Well, come to see me once a week. Let’s make it fourday. We’ll work together. There are a couple of tricks Mistress Nisar'al'Latol can’t teach you.” Brian nodded. “Before you leave, I have two questions for you. Why are you here?”

  “Well, my planet needs . . .”

  “No!” shouted the man abruptly. “This is the official reason. Everyone has the same official reason. Why are you, Brian, here? What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t really know, sir.” Brian had never even thought about it.

  “Well, that’s the beginning of your problem. Uncertainty. Doubts. Your nanites are part of you. They react to those feelings as well."

  “What can I do, sir?” Brian felt a tinge of despair.

  “Decide what you want to do. You, and not your planet, government, prince, ruler, or whoever sent you here. Be a pilot, or be something else. Then choose one of the paths offered to you. As a pilot, you can run a trade ship in a loop between worlds. You will travel, meet strange people while having a regularity that will comfort you. You’ve tested it with Mistress Derantor, I believe. She was a nice young lady, probably still is.” Young? That she wasn’t. “The life on our few military ships is, for the pilot, similar. You can become a messenger, rushing to bring urgent messages to distant planets, knowing everyone in the Federation but never settling anywhere. Or you can go out and explore. Try paths that lead nowhere and occasionally see what no one has seen before.” The reaction in his guts didn’t leave any doubts. The third was his dream. “But few have the skills required for this last route. That’s the second question. Do you have them?

  “With Captain Derantor, Loupiac, for one instant, something happened, and I could escape a normal hyperspace path."

  “Once is a sign. But not enough. It could have been an accident." The old man sighed. “You’ll come, and we’ll see where this leads. I am tired now. Would you mind if I don’t see you out?” The old man withdrew into himself, thinking. Brian, taken aback, slowly got up and walked out of the building, closing the door behind him.

  For the first time since his arrival, he walked a bit more assuredly, delighted by the afternoon breeze. He glanced at the main harbor and saw over the sea a red-haired girl at the prow of one of the ferries returning early. Smiling, he hurried to the compound gate. He arrived at a run to see Emily walking up. He waved at her, and she slowed down to let him catch up.

  “Hello, Brian, what are you doing here?” Something was troubling her.

  “Hi, Emmy. I’ve just had a wonderful meeting. And you?”

  A shadow crossed her face but disappeared in an instant. “Past worries. Nothing you can help me with. What was your meeting about?”

  Brian told her quickly and he saw genuine joy returning to his friend, as if a weight had lifted. “You found quite a character. You’ve met the right man indeed."

  “I agree. I hope he can really help me." This had turned out to be such a wonderful afternoon.

  “One word of advice, if you don’t mind.” Her voice was still light, but a shade of worry had crept back in.

  “Yes?”

  “I wouldn’t talk too much about it for now. You know how they are around here. If you raise expectations too much, they will raise the pressure quickly. If I were you, I would keep quiet for a while and wait until the results improve.”

  Brian hadn’t thought about this, but he could see her reasoning. Alvam might become jealous. Poulem had warned him about his pride. His team needed real performances. Speaking about it wouldn’t reassure them. He nodded carefully. He would wait for results.

  “Have you eaten? Would you like to get dinner?”

  She thought for an instant and then flashed her loveliest smile. “Yes, I would like that, indeed.” She took his arm and moved uphill toward the smell of the closing cafeteria. A good day indeed.

  Brian

  Alkath, 2140 AD, October

  “Temperature climbing, five percent. Singularity stability down to five percent. Radiation climbing, ten percent.” The taciturn voice from the computer filled the small cabin every three minutes with the update on their situation, which was increasingly worsening. All associated warning lights blinked red, as they had been doing for a few minutes now.

  Brian had fully activated his nanites and was locked into the main console, fighting to push the ship out of danger. He had appeared right next to a star on his last jump, deep into the envelope of superheated gazes that surrounded it. Now, he was desperately searching for a way out.

  “Brian, you have to talk to your crew.” The voice of Nisar'al'Latol, teacher of space flight, lashed at him. She was in the central control room, overlooking all crews during the exercise, but could speak to any ship at will. “How long before you’re out of the envelope? Should the doctor confine you with antirads or more? Liliana must know. Chilin also. Speak, now.”

  Brian hadn’t crossed the room of Fire since his accident, but the pain remained with him still. “Stop thinking of fire. Think of energy. You’ve got a knack with energy gradients. Use it, boy,” had said Master Loupiac on their second meeting, the night before. Brian pushed his vision to the maximum, blocking all data about the fire and replacing it with the radiation levels. This time, his nanites answered his request. The dust cloud cleared, and a potential path appeared in front of him. He called out. “Five minutes to inner envelope. Fifteen minutes to outer envelope. Sunray, I will need thirty minutes more of maximum power to reach the jump points.”

  “Brian, I can’t continue to give you that kind of push and keep the singularity stable. There’s too much strain on it already." Sunray’s voice had an edge of panic in it they had seldom heard.

  Brian was fighting the controls to get the ship out of the cloud. “Chilin, can you reduce environmental requirements?”

  “Food, water, and air are getting contaminated. I’ve already shut down everything I could, and I’m losing the capacity to regenerate all we need.” Chilin had brought up a 3-D summary of all the components under his care. In a blink, Brian saw a carpet of red lights, with only a few greens interspersed. “I can’t do more." Chilin’s voice was heavy with weariness.

  “Liliana, your advice?”

  “If you hadn’t flown us into this star, we wouldn’t be in trouble. As it is, we’re dead, thanks to you.” The doctor was upset, far more than she usually was with them.

  Nisar'al'Latol’s voice resounded in the cockpit, and she wasn’t amused. “One point less for backandthere. Liliana, you’re playing dumb, and I won’t accept it. I designed this exercise to get your ship there. Nothing could have prevented it. Now, get over it an
d help him."

  “This is still your fault,” Liliana muttered to Brian. Then, her voice grew firm. “Withdraw everyone to the bridge. I’ll activate nanite confinement.”

  “Sunray, Chilin, to the bridge. Now.” Brian followed her orders sharply. In under a minute, all three reported present. “All here. Liliana, confine us. Chilin, we still need acceleration. How many minutes can you safely give me?”

  While the two worked on it, Brian continued to guide them out of the solar flare, a loop of overheated plasma ten times as wide as Earth. The radiation poured around them in a maelstrom of energy. The fire and heat was intense, and fear gripped Brian’s heart. His body began to burn, just remembering the pain.

  At last, Brian found what he had been looking for, pockets of lesser energy showing the way out. His fear subsided as the flames withdrew, and his pain diminished. He pushed his ship into that course, hoping it would also relieve the strain on the singularity. Focused on his piloting, he heard a warning from Liliana without understanding her words. Then, suddenly, he felt his ankle gripped, and in a flash, his legs, torso, and arms. And in a frightening instant, his head got caught in a kind of gel. He gasped, looking for air, but the unnatural gel blocked his breathing. It would also protect them from all radiations for a little while, the strange molecule absorbing them.

  “Confinement fully activated. You’re gelled. Use your nanites to process gel into air.” Liliana’s cold voice rang in their head. He heard Sunray and Chilin complain. “Countdown to five minutes.” After that, the nanites wouldn’t have enough natural energy to process air and would start using their host cell’s energy to create air. This would result in severe damages to all. Brian activated his nanites, focusing on breathing and flying. Talk to them. The words from his teacher echoed in his mind.

  “Thanks, Liliana. Everyone, I have a way out. Four minutes now until outer envelope.”