Then, it was time to show them the observation dome. Bain almost wished they could delay it because Lin had told him he could run through one training simulation to show their guests how Spacers went through Knaught Points. Ganfer had been told to choose a middling difficult simulation, and refused to tell Bain which one. He had the awful feeling he would mess up in spectacular fashion and blow up the ship in front of everyone.
“This way.” Bain pushed off the wall straight across the bridge to the access doorway.
Rhiann followed on his heels. She swarmed up the ladder right behind him and laughed when she discovered the echoes in the dome. The plates were up in place, to create the right background for the simulation lasers. Bain preferred the plates down, revealing all of space for the naked eye to see, all the colors and light and shifting strings of glowing energy that sometimes appeared in the stellar wind and current. He supposed their guests had probably seen all that before.
Lin and Dr. Haral stayed at the back of the dome by the ladder while the rest settled on the acceleration couches. Bain took Lin's usual place and used her control panel. He put Captain Lorian in his usual spot and swung up the auxiliary control panel he always used so she could examine it, but he didn't turn it on.
“All right, Ganfer,” he said, feeling suddenly like he was about to choke. “I'm ready."
The lights dimmed quickly and a grid appeared on the underside of the dome, soft red lines. Bain breathed a sigh of relief. He should have realized Ganfer would do that to make it easier for their guests to understand.
Then the stars appeared, mostly white spots, a few blurs of blue-white and yellow and seething red. Perspective shifted, easy to see as the dots moved past grid lines.
“Knaught Point located,” Ganfer reported for the benefit of their guests.
A flashing golden box appeared around the gently pulsing squares on the curve of the dome almost directly over Bain's head. He scowled and hoped this wasn't the simulation that had killed him and the ship four weeks before. That simulation had started this way, too.
His hands didn't freeze up on the controls as he had feared. Bain started to relax when he changed course and adjusted speed almost without thinking. He asked for speed, attitude and energy ratios as the blinking squares of the Knaught Points grew larger. Ganfer answered as he always did, whether simulation or reality. Bain relaxed a little more. His hands moved over the controls without needing to take his eyes off the dome to check.
Bain almost laughed when he realized he had forgotten the presence of the watchers for minutes at a time. As usual, it was just him and the simulation—and Ganfer trying to make him mess up and kill himself.
“Unequal thrust,” Ganfer announced, then went on to report a sudden engine problem.
“Thanks a lot,” Bain grumbled under his breath, then shifted focus to compensate for the problem. In moments, course was corrected, angle of approach to the Knaught Point regained. Their speed would have to increase by fifteen percent or they would bounce off, but Bain calculated they still had time.
The usual sense of timeless stillness gathered around his senses. Bain concentrated on the Knaught Point, not even blinking. He sensed Ganfer's reports instead of actually hearing them. There was nothing but the soft rhythm of his heart in his ears. His hands worked over the controls, keeping feather-light contact, adjusting almost before Ganfer could report changes. Sweat dripped into Bain's eyes, but he didn't wipe it away.
Somewhere, far away, he had a sense of voices. That made no sense—everything had to be deathly quiet while approaching Knaught Points. Transition was only moments away.
The pulsing blots of energy grew larger, reaching out to engulf the ship. Bain rolled the trackball in the control pad, twisting his body sideways on the acceleration couch as he did so to brace for the sharp twist and turn of the ship as it went neatly down the ‘throat’ of the Knaught Point. Color burst across the dome, fireworks from the residue of energy, sapphire, crimson, emerald and white.
Then the normal black-and-white pattern of space returned to the dome. Bain finally reached up and wiped the stinging sweat out of his eyes. When he lowered his hand, the grid and stars had vanished. A sudden humming noise and loud clicks made him jerk. He caught his breath, waiting for some new trick from Ganfer to finish the simulation—it was a simulation, wasn't it? Then the dome plates started to fold down, revealing the true starscape outside the dome, and the Estal'es'cai floating serenely on the other end of the umbilical tube.
“How do you do that?” Herin demanded. She smiled at him and shook her head in very visible awe. That felt odd to Bain. He wasn't used to older girls admiring anything he had done.
“It's genetic,” Rhiann said. “Just like being Leapers is genetic."
“That's very nearly true,” Captain Lorian said. She released her safety strap and leaned over from her couch. She held out her hand. Bain stared at it for two seconds before he realized what she was doing. Blushing in the dimness, he shook her hand. “Thank you, Bain. That did more for explaining what happened yesterday than all the diagrams and scientific equations and my own record tapes."
“In what way?” Lin asked. She floated over from the ladder now and hooked her foot through the strap at the end of Bain's couch.
“You said the simulation recreates what you see when you're here. Well ... I didn't see half of the energy trails, and certainly not the way those Knaught Points turned into doorways.” She frowned, gazing up at the dome for a moment as if she could see the simulation again. “I think Spacers’ eyes are more sensitive to the energy given off. Just like Leaper minds can sense the openings in the dimensional fabric to guide our ships through, Spacers can physically see the doorways through the Knaught Points."
“Remember when I showed Gorgi the simulation?” Bain said. “He got mad when I told him it was the same between that and the real Knaught Points. He said the simulation added too many things. Maybe that's what he meant."
“Interesting.” Lin nodded and half-closed her eyes as she considered the theories. “Well, I think we answered a few age-old questions this morning.” She laughed and gestured toward the ladder. “I don't know about the rest of you, but my old bones get a little chilled up here sometimes and I think it's almost time for lunch."
“How long did it take to program computers to handle all this?” Captain Lorian asked as they headed for the ladder and passageway down to the bridge.
“Oh ... about three generations. Even now, it takes very large, very sophisticated computers with the most accurate sensor arrays to be bought.” She smiled. “That still makes Spacers very necessary, and much more reliable and much less expensive to use. We can take care of ourselves, but computers will always need people to tend them."
“In several universes we've visited, there are factions who have tried for generations to program navigational computers to do what Leapers do."
“They'll never figure it out,” Rhiann crowed. She climbed down the ladder, headfirst, her feet straight up in the air.
“We're not worried, even if someone does,” Herin added. “There will always be more ships to captain and places to go and cargo and passengers to carry than there will be Leap captains. There'll never be any competition."
Bain thought about that. He liked that little reassurance. He had wondered if Spacers would suddenly not be so necessary anymore when Leapers became known and available in the Commonwealth. He hadn't said anything to Lin, half-afraid she would laugh at his fears, half-afraid that she had been considering the same possibility.
He glanced at Lin as he came down into the full lighting of the bridge. She wore that half-smile that meant she was laughing at herself about something. Right then, he knew she had worried about the same thing. Now, though, she wasn't worried anymore.
* * *
Chapter Eight
Bain looked at the pill sitting in his palm. He didn't like taking pills. He had learned that aversion from Lin. Inoculations against known threats of pl
agues and other diseases were one things—it was common sense to build up a defense against something totally new and foreign to his system. Pills and other medications were a different matter.
The pill was pale blue, a flattened globe, glossy like a candy coating, and half the size of the tip of his little finger. Captain Lorian had given them to Lin and Bain, explaining that most people who weren't Leapers were badly affected by the Leap between dimensions.
The Estal'es'cai prepared to envelope Sunsinger in the tractor field and tow the Spacer ship through a simple Leap. ‘Simple’ meant they would only move a few thousand kilometers from their present position, closer to the next Knaught Point leading to Centralis. Lin and Bain wouldn't take the pills to combat the dizziness, nausea and psychological disorientation that occurred to over ninety-eight percent of non-Leapers. They only had the pills ready, just in case. Ganfer and Watcher were linked, ready to take care of the ship if Lin or Bain or both fell ill and couldn't function.
“I'm not taking it no matter what,” Bain muttered. He cast a sideways glance at Lin, seated at the control panel.
“You might feel differently halfway through the Leap.” She concentrated on the last shifting in the numbers on her screen as she prepared Sunsinger for envelopment, and didn't even raise her head as she answered.
“Rhiann says it'll only be a few seconds."
“A few seconds could last forever.” Now Lin did look up from her screen. “Remember when I fell ill from those borria tarts?"
“You were allergic to some new preservative the merchant put in them. I remember.” He nodded. That had been a frightening night, sitting by the door of Lin's cubicle, listening to her moan, waiting in a sweat for the diagnostic wand to come up with some sort of answer or treatment.
“That only lasted two hours. It felt like years.” She put her pill down in a depression in the control panel, within easy reach. “I hate these things, but I'll be ready, just in case."
“All right.” He sighed and stuffed the pill into his pocket. Bain silently vowed he wouldn't take it even if he thought he would vomit all over the control panel.
“Engaging the tractor field in five seconds,” Captain Lorian announced. Her voice sounded too small, coming through their collar links instead of the speaker in the ceiling.
“We're all set,” Lin said. She reached down and gave an extra tug to her safety strap.
Bain watched his screen. The numbers representing the energy bouncing off the skin of Sunsinger jumped and flickered wildly, but the ship didn't shudder or react in any way to the sudden envelopment in the field.
“That's smooth,” he said.
“We aim to please,” Captain Lorian said with a chuckle. “We're engaging engines now. Let me know the minute you start showing stresses anywhere."
Bain kept his eyes wide open, trying not to even blink as he watched his monitors. After the initial reaction, the stress factors and energy absorption and reflection rates didn't change more than a few hundredths of a decimal at a time. Captain Lorian had explained that the tractor field absorbed shocks and effectively merged the two ships into one. Bain had seen some of that effect when Sunsinger towed the Estal'es'cai. It had been different being the one doing the towing, and the other ship worked to maintain speed and angle. This time, Sunsinger was supposed to hang idle in space and let itself become essentially dead weight. Bain knew Lin didn't like having strangers work on the delicate insides of her ship—how did she feel about letting someone else essentially pilot her ship? From the outside?
“Transition in ten seconds,” Herin announced. She spent all the transitions on the bridge now, linked into Watcher with her mother to learn the exact feel and ‘knack’ of controlling the Leap.
Rhiann had complained that she wasn't even allowed to watch. Bain sympathized—at least Lin always let him sit in the observation dome during the Knaught Point jumps even when he couldn't do anything.
Ganfer counted down the seconds. Bain watched the energy readings. From the corner of his eye, he watched Lin reach up to flip the switch that would turn on the bio-recorders so they would have her and Bain's physical responses to the transition, to study later.
“One,” Ganfer said.
“Whu—oah!” Bain grunted.
He turned inside out, flattened to paper thinness and folded into a tiny parcel like an intricate paper sculpture, all in the space of a second, without anyone or anything touching him. His eyes stayed focused on the screen in front of him, but he couldn't read it. The numbers elongated and turned into eight-legged horses in electric rainbow colors that galloped across the screen and vanished into nothingness.
“Out,” Herin said. Her voice crackled through Bain's ears. He realized he had heard nothing during the transition.
“Whew!” Lin let out whistle, then laughed. “That was interesting."
“Didn't get sick at all,” Bain said. He leaned back in his seat and felt like melting down the back, forming a puddle in the cushions. His whole body tingled from the aftereffect. He knew it was a good thing he didn't have to stand up in normal gravity for a few moments, because his muscles would have been as useless as wet clay.
“Not sick?” Lin snorted. “I dare you to eat something. We'll see if you're sick or not."
“Are you?"
“Not yet, and I don't aim to find out."
“How did you do?” Captain Lorian asked. Her voice sounded loud through the speaker too, but not as achingly loud as Herin's voice had been.
“Just fine. You people ought to consider charging for admission just to experience the ride.” Lin laughed.
“Do you mind if we run a few tests on you two, after we make the return Leap?"
“No problem."
“Return Leap?” Bain's voice cracked. “Let's go!” he added quickly, before the others started laughing at him.
“In a few minutes. Ganfer, what did you get from all this?"
“I require time to slow down the recordings and analyze. The transition experience was almost too quick for mechanical recording.” Ganfer paused, a sign of either humor, dramatic effect, or difficulty for the ship-brain. “This is one of those times when the Human brain is far better equipped for analysis and experience recording than the fastest, most accurate computer designed."
“Is that good or bad?” Captain Lorian murmured, barely audible.
* * * *
Dr. Haral came over to Sunsinger that evening, after they had made the return Leap and arrived three days’ journey closer to the next Knaught Point. Bain thought of all the time that could be saved, both in meeting emergencies and transporting people and cargo, if the Leap-ships returned in full force to Commonwealth space. It excited him to consider all the changes and improvements that could happen in the Commonwealth with fast, reliable transportation between all the scattered colonies.
“No physical stresses, no damage to the nervous system, but there is a lingering elevated endorphin level,” Dr. Haral said, when he had finished examining both Lin and Bain.
“That's what made you laugh when the Leap was over,” Rhiann explained. She had insisted on coming over with her father and sat in the galley booth now, nursing her second cup of hot chocolate.
“I knew that,” Bain whispered back. He felt a little irked that Lin had given Rhiann her second cup without even being asked. That was silly, he knew. Rhiann and her father were their guests. Lin was only being a good hostess.
“The only people who have reactions this benign to a Leap are those with Leaper blood in their backgrounds,” Dr. Haral continued. “But you don't have any khrystal in your genetic structure. Odd."
“What is khrystal?” Lin asked. “I've heard several of your crew mention it in passing, but I still don't understand."
“Basically...” He looked into her eyes for a long moment, then turned to Bain and studied him. “This is perhaps something that should not be too widely spread, for the protection of your people and our own. During what you call the First Civ, there w
as an accident. Experimental biological crystal was being grown in a protective, controlling energy matrix. It exploded when the matrix was temporarily shut down. Two people were infected with the bio-crystal—the scientist's daughter, and the military officer who caused the shut-down. The officer was overwhelmed by the crystal. He became a crystalline ... thing, and died of it. The scientist's daughter survived, and learned to control the crystal. She also learned how to infect others with the crystal and use it to control them."
“Uh oh,” Bain muttered.
“Indeed,” the man said with a wry smile. “She did it to survive, because at that time, society had devolved into a highly rigid, stratified society. People's worth was determine by their genetic structure, their contribution value to society, and how much power they wielded. Her parents were very successful scientists, and were permitted to have as many children as they wanted. Others with few skills beyond washing dishes and picking up garbage were forcibly sterilized."
“But that's not fair!"
“No, it isn't,” Lin said. “So she learned to control the bio-crystal in her body. What happened?"
“She learned who to trust, to protect her so she didn't need to create slaves and kill to protect herself, but by then the khrystal was considered a threat. She vanished. Fifteen years later, one of her brothers in an isolated research station was discovered to be raising her twin son and daughter. The twins, at age ten, appeared to be full-grown adults and they had inherited khrystal from their mother. They weren't as strongly infected as their mother, and it took a blood transfusion to pass the khrystal on to others. With their mother, all it required was an effort of her will and for her enemy to come into contact with her sweat or blood. The twins were allowed to live and breed. It was then learned that khrystal could only be passed on by the mother, through the ovum. Sperm didn't contain khrystal. By then, enough was known about khrystal to use it for repairs of serious injuries—nerve damage or destruction, even the forced regrowth of smaller body parts, like hands and feet and ears."
Leap Ships [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 7] Page 7
