Interstellar Starpilots

by F Stephan

  One other question bothered him. “Will you own your ship after your father?”

  “Yes, there is a finder’s rule in the Federation. We own it unless we can’t supply a pilot to run it during a period of twenty years. It only happened once in the short Federation’s history.”

  “And Alvam?”

  Poulem looked at him for a long time. “You know the answer already, don’t you? It’s not easy to find it in the Core Data Sphere, but you’d be able to.”

  “They lost their ship?”

  She nodded, eyes glistening. “The generation before Alvam. He was too young to qualify, and they lost it. No exceptions to Federation rules. It took him a long time to accept it afterward. Please, now, it isn’t becoming that you stay in my room at this hour.”

  “I didn’t intend . . .”

  “No, you didn’t.” She gave a clear little laugh. “But she would get at me for this. Anyway, you don’t want questions raised about our talk. Don’t ever tell another student what we shared tonight. And don’t talk to Alvam.” Brian quickly left her, moving rapidly out of her part of the dormitory. Who does she mean by “she”? Illoma? Emily?

  Heikert

  Earth, 2140 AD, November

  “Moon in five, four, three, two, one . . .” Heikert engaged the singularity to distort space around them and change course, avoiding a crash under the shadow of an ancient crater. It slammed them into their acceleration couches. They flew over the moon at an incredibly crazy low altitude, breaking slowly as they went.

  Bolgaren whispered to Moonlight, “Did he really do it?” It was an extraordinary feat of navigation because, when active, the singularity distorted gravity around it. In space, it wasn’t a problem. But, close to a planet, it became extremely difficult, and only a few pilots could manage such runs. Fortunately, Heikert was one of those few. She gave him a kiss for “yes” and his face reddened entirely.

  At last, Heikert stopped the ship, close to the surface, keeping the altitude only with the singularity. Lelet didn’t use the technology required to detect gravity waves and they felt safe using it. Withdrawing from the console, he announced, “We’re in. That’s it.”

  Bolgaren whooped in delight in the cabin. “No sign of detection. No reaction on their base or on the planet.”

  “Ship’s fine. Singularity stable. We can leave whenever you want.”

  After a quick lunch, Heikert donned an extravehicular suit and a small propulsion pack designed for space.

  “Liaison check. Bolgaren?” he said aloud with his helmet on.

  “I got your suit linked to the main console. If anything happens, you call, and we arrive.” Bolgaren’s enthusiasm wouldn’t abate.

  “If anything happens,” Heikert turned to Moonlight, “you get the hell out of there and report back to the Federation.”

  He was flying over the moon, using the different craters for his final approach. Images of his old flight on the station came back to him. Alone, his wife dead, evading detection. Now, he was again creeping in shadows. Why have I accepted this? Is this boy worth it? But for the first time in years, since those awful minutes on the station, Nellym was smiling at him.

  An awful hour later, he arrived at the station. He laid a small transmitter on a peak above the station, hidden in a crevice.

  “So, sir, what’s the situation?” Bolgaren’s words were barely audible over the link, unconscious as he was that, if the signal was intercepted, it wouldn’t make a difference.

  “It’s designed to keep people from getting out.”

  “That’s absurd. We’re on a barren rock with no atmosphere.” Mistress Moonlight couldn’t stand inefficiency.

  “If they’re crazy, it’s their problem. Their outer security is a simple dome at the edge of the crater with a searchlight roaming the sky. It overlooks the ten buildings on the surface.

  “That’s just the visible part of the complex. For everything else, they’ll be on electronics. I can fool it.”

  Heikert took an hour to record the pattern of the searchlight before moving on. He reached the closest external building. As he had expected, they had an open box outside, which grouped all electrical connections. Easy maintenance, easy security from internal hack. No security for external spies. He implemented with quick and efficient motions the listening module. Then, he backtracked up on his path to the crevice and then out to the ship.

  Three hours later, he was back on the ship, covered in sweat and shaken. The trip had gone perfectly well, but he had felt Nellym with him all the way back.

  “So, any luck? Did you find anything?” He blurted the words as soon as he took off his helmet.

  Bolgaren was in a trance, eyes flickering too fast. In front of him, multiple 3-D screens were running images at an alarming rate.

  Moonlight was already at her console. “I installed on the ground here a small transponder during your trek. We’ll be able to access their network now from the asteroid belt. Sir, okay to move back?”

  “Yes, do it now.” Now that the communications were set up, Bolgaren would need time to extract the data they needed. Moving up to the belt would reduce their exposure and allow them to search deeper.

  Over the next days, Bolgaren found multiple proofs of the oppression carried out by the theocracy, enough to get the Federation moving to rescue potential pilots at the least. Moonlight and Heikert organized the data and prepared the summary they would send the council. Heikert had decided to stop their search to present back the evidence when the hacker abruptly came out of his trance. “I found it. I found it.” His eyes were wild, both from his hours in the virtual world and from his return to reality.

  “What?”

  His rasping words startled Heikert. “They had a contact.” The word rang heavy in the cabin.

  Moonlight joined them. “What? Contact?”

  “I found a time deleted from all ship’s logs in the servers of the station. So, I went into the ship’s inner core. They tried to clean it, but with those Ancient computers, it’s hard to remove absolutely everything. I’ve found old audit records, twenty years ago more or less.” Bolgaren went into technical details around his finding, bringing screens up in the air to show their authenticity. Mistress Moonlight seemed annoyed by his demonstration, while Heikert began to analyze the data in more details and correlating it to other sources.

  “They had a contact on a nearby system twenty years ago, two years before the Federation found them. Upon the return of the ship, a new leadership arose in the church. New laws, new archaeological research. Three weeks after it happened, they found new documents from their prophet, forbidding relations with foreigners, agents of the Ancients. This was the main obstacle to the Federation’s offer to join us.”

  “You think it might be related?” Moonlight was more interested in the politics behind the story.

  “Well, the coincidence seems too close and they took great pains to try and delete that data. My problem is that I can’t get a transcript of that discussion.” Bolgaren sounded as if his whole life was forfeit.

  “Are you sure they didn’t board?”

  “From the log, it doesn’t look like they did.” Bolgaren looked at him with blank eyes.

  “And you’ve found the coordinates where they met?”

  Bolgaren nodded, confused. Heikert looked at Moonlight, who returned his gaze and then slowly nodded. She knew what he had in mind.

  Brian

  Earth, 2140 AD, November

  “Attention in airlock. Cycling in two minutes. Check one another’s equipment. Attention in airlock . . .”

  Brian turned to Liliana. “Do you mind?” She turned without a word. In thirty seconds, Brian had verified all the connection, air, water, and electronics, on her spacesuit. “Good to go!” He heard Sunray’s confirmation on Chilin and turned again. Behind him, he heard Liliana mutter for a few seconds before she gave him the go-ahead. “Don’t be a Dupner oaf. Try not to kill us today.” Brian wondered why she hated her own planet so muc
h. The last week hadn’t improved her humor.

  They left the station in silence and moved in null gravity along the ladders set up along the spokes of the wheel. Behind them, Brian heard over the comm link the casual banter of the other crews. Illoma, Alvam, Sonter, all seemed to have a good time with their teams. He’d have to find a way to improve the relationships they all shared.

  A few minutes later, they reached the scout their instructor had given to them. It was a sleek black ovoid, thirty meters long and twenty meters high. As they approached, they felt the pull of the singularity behind the ship, restoring some gravity. Brian oriented himself, facing the new situation. It felt strange. Until then, gravity had come from one direction on the station, and now it was coming from another. He breathed slowly, letting his body adjust for a few heartbeats before continuing to the airlock. Such a change was hard on humans and he took a good minute before moving farther. Then, Liliana called out. “Sunray, focus on my words. Sing me something. Anything.”

  Sunray’s voice filled their commlink, unsteady at first but slowly improving. Brian opened the airlock while Chilin dragged Sunray inside, ashen faced. When they were all inside, Liliana engaged the fast entry procedure. It was rougher on them as the air rushed in and created turbulence, but it allowed them to remove Sunray’s helmet faster.

  “What happened?” Liliane was the first to ask.

  Sunray grinned uneasily. “Sometimes, my internal ear doesn’t like these transfers between gravity wells.”

  “You should have told me, you idiot.” Liliana was fuming. “I have pills and procedures that can help; we could have boarded from another direction.”

  “Then you’d have worried.” Sunray was innocence itself. “You’re worrying enough about Brian already.” Brian absently noted this comment from the engineer while he began his primary checks. Why would she worry about Sunray? Why did the other divert her attention that way? Regarding the little icy doctor, the thought was ludicrous.

  An hour later, they were underway, following a route laid out by Nisar'al'Latol. “You’ll move out to the system Blanel and back on the shortest possible path. You’ve three possible choices with four to six jumps and five to fifteen days of flight. Your priority is first to have a good flight, the second to have a fast one.”

  Over the communication network, every pilot had been bantering over their future performances while Brian had remained silent. He had hated it when his crew had become the reference for the worst possible outcome. Alvam had tried to defend him, but his attempt had been so clumsy it had only worsened the situation. Sonter had even asked him to shut up, a rare act of mercy from someone who hated Brian. It had left Brian with a bitter taste. Later, when he received messages of support from his friends from Adheek, full of pity, he decided he’d prove he could do better than they did.

  “Time to talk!” said Brian cheerfully. It was his first time in space since his arrival in Alkath and he felt back at home. “Is this the right time for us to chat about our options?” Everyone quickly answered yes, Chilin and Sunray showing their obvious surprise. Pilots were known to explain what they did to their crews. But if Brian wanted to change things between them, he would have to act differently from the other pilots. Five minutes later, they were in the main room adjoining the bridge. It was a utilitarian space, lacking the refinement of regular trade vessels. Still, it remained quite cozy, with soft pillows laid out around a small low table. A kitchen on the side allowed the crews to cook what they liked. Sunray had hopped there after their arrival once he had finished his checkup and now he was setting out a plate of pastries for them.

  “My world’s traditional cakes. You’d better like them,” he said, for once brusquely.

  Brian nibbled one and, noting the nice taste of sugar, gobbled it up straight afterward.

  Liliana tried one and visibly didn’t like it, although she tried to finish it. Her only comment was that her father would have liked it. She might have fled Dupner, but her family ties remained strong for her.

  “Very well.” Sunray commenced. “We have two options. The first will complete the tour in seven to eight days. It is secure and reasonably fast.” Brian drew the chart in the air above the table. “The second will bring us back in four days and a half. But it’s going to be far more dangerous as well.” He quickly laid out the different options available. This was an exercise he had done countless times with Captain Derantor. But he had an ace up his sleeve for once.

  It took them two hours to evaluate each route, one after another. They hated his plan. Chilin feared it. Surprisingly, in the end, Liliana was the one who shifted the vote in his favor. She’d do anything to stand out of the crowd, even trusting him.

  At noon exactly, forty scouts, nearly all the reserve ships stationed in Alkath, took off at the same time, heading for the nearest jump point. The initial acceleration was crucial, as the time to reach the cruising speed was the longest part of the trip. Most ships went for the closest jump, which led to an efficient eight-day road. Brian had chosen another path, one where the initial jump was farther away. Chilin began to object again, calling her arguments to attention, but Sunray quickly showed her Alvam, Emily, and a few others headed in the same direction. “This is the right path.”

  Emily

  Blanel, 2140 AD, October

  A few hours later, Emily deactivated her nanites as she exited the jump point. Her vision blurred an instant under the strain.

  “Singularity stabilizing. All clear!” Behind her, Shaman Leila, the little engineer from Volpre, was checking the singularity thoroughly. Emily kept busy with all her crew on the postjump activities, ignoring the trembling that shook her. She concentrated on her route and confirmed the whole trajectory to the next jump, breathing deep and chewing a small energy bar she had stuffed in her jacket.

  “Only four hours to the next jump. It’ll be a small one. Everyone, we can grab some lunch. We’ve appeared first and in front of everyone else. We've got a full hour on them.”

  A hurrah resounded on her bridge and they all headed to the adjoining room babbling excitedly, thrilled by the success. Nolam brought them warm tea and Emily ate with a ravenous appetite. Within minutes, she felt better.

  “Shaman Leila, could you show us the other crews?” They were two days out in the race, and she wanted an update.

  “Just a few minutes, please.” She called a 3-D screen above the table while Nolam removed the dishes. First, the blue giant appeared at the center. Then, asteroids and comets popped up here and there. When the picture was complete, Emily added the different possible routes and Leila began to light up the positions of the known ships.

  “Captain, the farthest ship is six light hours behind us. I will need a good ten minutes to calculate where they are heading.” The shaman was entirely absorbed as she commented on the various trajectories.

  “Leila, thank you. If they are that far away, they aren’t a threat to us. You can stop your calculation.” Emily zoomed to the inner Blanel system and its five lights. “Here are our real competitors.” All were gathered thirty light seconds from the sun.

  Everyone leaned closer. “Here is Alvam. He is the one closest to us. Two light seconds behind, we have Poulem and Illoma.” Leila pointed to it. “Emily, can the Ullemite catch up with us?” The scorn in her voice was palpable.

  She focused on his route and quickly confirmed. “His speed was lower than us after the jump.” She began to evaluate under which conditions he would be able to catch them. “No. He can’t catch up.”

  “You really did an excellent job. Fantastic accuracy, Pilot.” The shaman had an honesty and a directness that often unsettled Emily.

  Then, something struck her. “What’s this point?” She pointed out an isolated light ten light seconds behind them.

  Nolam looked at it and laughed. “Who else? Brian! He missed his jump. He’s so deep in-system it’s going to take ages to fly out.”

  Sudden anger flared within Emily and she shouted without thinki
ng, “Stop it! Brian is an excellent pilot.”

  Nolam cringed. “Sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to . . .”

  Emily had already moved on. “Where is he going?” she wondered to herself, then asked in a quite different voice, “Shaman, would you please plot Brian’s route?”

  Leila was confused by the question but answered quickly. “Yes, Captain.” A minute later, a new line appeared close to the sun and the forbidden zone around it. “What is he doing?”

  Emily felt her stomach tighten. “Looking for an anomaly.”

  “What? So close to the sun? There can’t be an anomaly.” Nolam was astounded. “Aren’t they located in low-gravity areas?”

  “In theory, they can be located anywhere. Usually, they are unstable outside of low-gravity areas. But they may exist.” Leila took a couple minutes to find the anomaly while Emily chafed.

  “How did he find it?” Emily was more and more concerned. She called up the star chart Nisar'al'Latol had provided them. After a while, she pointed to a spot. “Look! It was mentioned.”

  Shelor Ken’Lazad, the taciturn doctor from Iliken, intervened. “They can’t do it. The rad level at that distance is too high. They won’t survive.”

  “What?” Suddenly, fear gripped Emily’s heart. What’s the fool doing? I can’t let him out of my sight. Damn it.

  Shelor continued. “They would need to . . .”

  Nolam turned to him, raising his voice. “What? Shelor?”

  Suddenly, in a flash of relief, Emily guessed his plan. “They’re going to activate confinement. Gel everyone on the bridge and jump while under it. It’s crazy but it should work.”

  “Why are they doing such a crazy thing?” Nolam looked blankly at the anomaly.

  Emily plotted the course of her competitor. When she found his exit point, a full day ahead of them, she began cursing her friend with the foulest words she could think of.