The scenery was too beautiful to ignore and they sat in silence as they flew along a rugged coastline of cliffs, rocky outcrops and flocks of flyers wheeling through the sky and diving into the deep blue ocean for swimmers. And whilst it was certainly a stunning view Nuku’s thoughts were increasingly turning to Earth. It too had wonders, despite the degradation: the Grand Canyon, the Himalayas (which were now a fraction higher thanks to plate tectonics), the mountains of Patagonia, the massive crater of the recently activated Krakatoa (which had unfortunately exploded in 149 AS [after settlement] killing millions in a series of tsunamis, pyroclastic storms and fires).
They banked again and headed to the industrial suburb of New Birmingham (named after that city’s role in Earth’s Industrial Revolution): an area of specialist manufacturing plants dotted amongst a patchwork of sculpted parks, gardens and wild areas. They settled on an open grass field beside a series of large pod-like factories covered by a crazy network of vines and creepers. As the hover shut down, two figures walked from under a tree to meet them. The first was a well-built, balding older man dressed in a strategos’s uniform, his remaining grey hair tied in a loose ponytail. The second, a younger man: gangly, awkward, his hair an untidy mop; dressed in a tech sarong and lab coat. Prax recognised the elder man immediately.
“Strategos Little Wolf, good to see you.”
“Prax my old friend, let’s drop the formalities.” He hugged Prax warmly and then turned to look at Nuku and Biyu.
“Chichi Little Wolf, this is Nuku Teixeira and I’m sure Zhang Biyu needs no introduction,” said Prax. “Chichi is the air fleet strategos.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” said Nuku as she shook his hand. Biyu did not hesitate to reach for his hand. He was one of the heroes of Eden, a direct descendant of the First and the leader of the first expedition to walk across the big continent, the first to see the majestic Naiad Falls and the Pegaeae Geysers.
“This is Ridvan Çivet, the genius behind the new class of jumpers, of which you will be the first to use.”
He blushed when Biyu shook his hand. He was clearly smitten, his mouth beginning to form some embarrassing compliment when discretion got the better of him. “Um, yes, um hi, pleased to meet you. I’ve, um… please, walk this way.”
A sudden squall ruffled their sarongs as they made their way to the building. The young man grabbed at his sarong to stop it flipping up. Biyu thought him unusually awkward, perhaps a little obsessive compulsive.
As they entered through a standard door their eyes opened in wonder. The building was huge and contained several, odd looking jumpers in various stages of construction. Drones were flitting about everywhere and mechs were crawling over and under fuselages and guiding parts into place using levitators. Close to them, near two large hangar doors on rollers, sat a completed jumper, its hull a dull ceramic grey.
“There she is, the first mark III drukh class jumper.”
“Drukh?” asked Nuku.
“After the Kingdom of Bhutan,” said Prax. “Thunder Dragon - appropriate.”
“But it looks so dull,” Biyu complained.
“Ah, can’t disappoint the famous Biyu,” mumbled Ridvan. He spoke to his guardian. “Display.” The hull began to change colour. “Sky and clouds.” The hull turned sky blue and white cumulous clouds began to shift across the surface.
“Wow,” said Nuku. “Camouflage. How?”
“A layer of biomechanical pixels. It can assume any pattern you command, but in stealth mode it assumes the colours of its environment.”
“Impressive,” admitted Biyu. “It has wings. We haven’t used wings in hover design. Might I assume that this is designed for combat? It reminds me of some early twenty-first century military fighters.”
“Yes, well spotted. The strategos said you were selected because of your excellent military knowledge,” gushed Ridvan before self-consciously checking his enthusiasm.
Nuku whispered in Prax’s ear. “Guess who has crush on Biyu?”
Prax frowned. “Who on Eden doesn’t?” he hissed back disapprovingly.
Nuku pulled a face to mock his rebuke.
“So it’s military grade?”
“Yes,” said the strategos. “We don’t expect any trouble, but just in case you come under air attack it needs to be able to outmanoeuver the best fighters Earth is known to have produced…”
“The wings provide aerodynamic stability,” interrupted Ridvan, forgetting discipline. The strategos raised his eyebrows but allowed him to continue. “All ordinary jumpers need to do is basically lift vertically out of the atmosphere and jump. The drukh class is designed to cope with supersonic speeds, g-force strain and cyclonic winds. It can go faster than any hover and fly in any conditions.”
“Including aerial dog-fights,” asked Biyu excitedly.
“Yes, yes, exactly. It can out fly anything Earth has to offer. It can handle vertical ascents and dives, rolls, flips, spins…”
“With acrobatic flexibility?”
“Yes, yes. You were my inspiration.” He blushed immediately with his unintended admission and she instinctively reached for his hand to reassure him.
“That’s kind…”
He blushed again and tried to recover. “I mean, acrobatics. I wondered how to design a machine that had the same agility.”
“The g-force stress must be intense,” said Prax.
“Yes, yes, of course, a major problem. A problem solved in the interior.” He commanded his guardian. “Open.” A seamless hatch hissed open over a wing and he invited them to step up onto it (unlike Earth aircraft, it did not require landing gear, settling like hovers on the ground). It was pitch black inside. “Illuminate,” he commanded as they entered an interior shell containing three egg-like pods, the walls were featureless and evenly illuminated, giving it an eerie, dimensionless feel.
“This section is modular. It can seat eight passengers or be packed with additional cargo or any combination thereof, there’s additional storage between this inner hull and the exterior hull, along with the guts of the beast. In your case we’ve added two passenger pods and science equipment for the Ambassador and magnus Teixeira. The pilot has a specially designed command pod.”
It was difficult to comprehend what they were seeing. On first impression it looked like three cocoons covered by vein-like wiring, one floating in the narrow front end and two floating behind. They walked toward the pods, letting Biyu take the lead, shuffling to get a view as the nose narrowed, the strategos standing at the back to allow Ridvan to give the instructions. “Open,” Ridvan commanded and the front half of the pods detached and slid effortlessly around and behind to reveal a gelatinous full body flight seat. “It’s a new material, a biomechanical gel that is sensitive to human bioelectrical signals. Um, my apologies magnuses, but the gel responds only to skin. You must be completely unclothed.”
“You want us to sit?”
Ridvan blushed. “Yes, we’ll set the jumper to your bio-signature. The sensation will be strange at first but you’ll adjust. It will feel like a second skin.”
They did not hesitate, Ridvan taking their sarongs and bracelets and handing them to a small drone that stored them somewhere in the aft.
“So what do we do?” asked Biyu.
“Just lower your body, the gel will adjust,” he said trying to avoid looking directly at her. She thought it odd. Surely he had seen her naked many times; certainly no part of her body had been hidden. Perhaps it was the physical closeness? Perhaps he had masturbated using her image (as many had) and he was simply having trouble adjusting to the professional context.
They followed his instructions and gingerly lowered themselves. The gel moulded itself to accept their weight and shape, wrapping itself around their genitals.
“Ooh, that tickles,” said Nuku trying not to laugh.
“Yes, should have warned you. Should you need to evacuate the gel will absorb your waste and nanobacteria will process and recycle it.”
“So I assume that the gel responds to g-force?” Prax asked.
“Yes, that’s one of its functions. It will absorb vibration and protect muscles and the skeleton from the effects of g-force. Now, if you care to be patient I will direct the AI to record your bio-signatures. As a security measure the jumper will only function when one or more of you are present. It will detect strangers and act against them.”
“How?” asked Biyu.
“At first with fear inducing drugs designed to make them flee, but if that fails, ultimately a dose of sedative, fatal if necessary.”
“Through osmosis?” asked Nuku.
“Yes, the gel has medical functions. It can detect stress and disease and release antidotes, painkillers, relaxants and so forth. These can be adjusted to cause irritation and pain to strangers.”
“Can this be overridden?” asked Biyu.
“Only once one of you is seated. There is a procedure, but perhaps we can wait? For now just relax while the gel gets to know you. It’ll take a few minutes.”
Biyu shifted her weight and the gel adjusted. It was almost like being weightless. She had full mobility but there was a slight resistance and she assumed the gel understood the difference between muscle activity and outside force.
Nuku closed her eyes. She allowed her conscious mind to drift. Her intuition gave her the sensation of goose bumps as nano-tentacles penetrated her dermis and interacted with her nervous system.
Prax kept his eyes wide open, looking about the interior trying to assess the tech. This was beyond his experience. He was aware of some of the theory but he was shocked to see that it had been finally realised.
“Okay, you’ve been accepted. You now have full command. The interior hull is a three-sixty hi-def screen. It can create the illusion of being outside the drukh. It is counterintuitive and can cause vertigo until you get used to it. Some test pilots opt to just use part of the screen to retain a sense of solidity. You can also create split screens of any shape or size, fore and aft, left or right. It takes some getting used to.”
They gasped as the screen lit up and the hull seemed to disappear around them. Ridvan smiled with pride.
“It seems real,” said Nuku as she scanned the outside.
“The instrument panel?” Prax asked, fascinated, knowing that standard holographic projection could seem transparent and low res.
“A cloud of nanoparticles will arrange themselves to form an ultra thin film in front of you. They are responsive to touch using standard icons. It’s perfectly safe in the case of impact. Nothing to shatter.”
The word impact made Nuku shudder. It was a reminder that flying things could crash.
“Clever,” said Prax. “I’ve been out of the field too long.”
“Oh, but you made important contributions. I read all your papers as a child.”
Prax nodded. He wanted to say thank you but it sounded like a backhanded compliment.
“Talking about impact,” said Biyu. “What about weaponry?”
“Mainly defensive, although they can be reconfigured to be offensive. In the case of attack a hive of nanos are released and they seek and destroy any pursuing missiles or aircraft.”
“No missiles, guns?”
“Only necessary in offence.”
“And accuracy?” asked Biyu as she tested the screen, flipping between forward and rear views.
“Ninety-five percent.”
“Not one hundred.” Nuku asked nervously.
Ridvan shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing is fail safe, but we do have back up plans. In the case of a catastrophic failure the pods close…”
“With us in them?” asked Nuku suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
“Yes. I suggest you try it out. Don’t worry; you’ll be able to breathe. We’ve tested them in all sorts of conditions. Released from their antigrav locks they act just like a small drone. They’ll survive for some time under water, in the vacuum of space or in extreme heat.”
“For how long?” asked Prax.
“Twelve hours, enough to get you safely to ground in most circumstances.”
“And then?” asked Nuku.
“You wait. The AI is alerted as soon as they are released. A rescue mission will be sent. If it is to be for a long time the gel will put you into a coma and provide all the nutrients you need.”
“And what if we land in a hostile environment. We’ll be naked. What if we land in snow? Won’t we die of exposure?” asked Nuku.
“Good question,” said Biyu. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
“Well, to tell the truth, neither did I initially. It was raised in one of the reviews. It took us another two years to find a solution…”
“Of course,” said Nuku. “The gel is intelligent. It forms a protective layer.”
Ridvan nodded. “Yes, a second skin. It reacts to temperature. When it is cold it thickens to act like a layer of fat. When it is hot, it breathes and regulates body temperature. It has been tested in every condition.”
“And the expeditionary teams?” asked Nuku.
“Yes, they have access to this technology. It has several applications. If we add an oxygen convertor…”
“It becomes a wet suit?”
“Yes. However it is difficult to manufacture and until we build capacity there is a limited supply.”
“Okay, so let’s try,” said Nuku. “Close,” she commanded and the pod began to fold around her. There was a moment of panic as she was pressed into the gel and it began to close around her face. She closed her eyes and held her breath until she felt the sensation of air in her nostrils. She took a deep breath. The air was sweet and cool. She opened her eyes. A bubble had formed around her face and she could see images projected on a small nano screen just like on the interior of a helmet visor.
“Open,” Nuku commanded and the pod separated. It was a whole new sensation as the gel peeled off her skin, and just a little erotic. She decided to test it further and released her bladder. She expected to feel the urine swirling around her but she might as well have been pissing into space. She looked down and could see no sign of it through the opaque gel. “Well, the waste function works,” she announced.
“You tried it too,” Biyu laughed.
The strategos cleared his throat. “Well, back to more serious matters. Care to take her for a spin?”
“Pardon?” asked Biyu. “What, now?”
“Yes, now. She’ll instruct you as you go. The controls are intuitive. If you can fly a scooter or a dart, you can fly a drukh. We’ll disembark and leave you in her more than capable embrace. Magnus Zhang, you have eight hours of flight time. I suggest you take her into orbit, put her through her paces. Do an interplanetary jump, maybe into orbit around Eros, or further out to Apollo or the moons of Artemis.”
“Yes sir,” she said, flushed with excitement. “You two up to it?”
“Fuck yeah,” said Nuku.
“Um, yes, affirmative, I think,” said Prax, not so sure.
“She’s all yours,” said the strategos as he walked out onto the wing and the door sealed behind him.
“At your command,” said a disembodied voice as the hangar doors began to slide open, the bright sunlight pouring in and the screen automatically adjusting the brightness.
“Take us up, um, do you have a name?”
“No, it is up to you,” the drukh replied.
“What shall we call her?” Biyu asked the others.
“I’m indifferent, does it matter?” Asked Prax.
“Yes,” said Nuku. ‘she needs a name.” She thought for a moment. “AI, what are some classic names from Earth dragon lore?”
“By alphabetical?”
“No, female, of a kind and gentle nature…”
“Katla from Lindgren, Saphira from Paolini…”
“Saphira has a ring to it,” said Biyu.
“Saphira it is then,” agreed Nuku.
“Okay, looks like we are clear Saphira. Now just how fast can you g
o without causing anyone to throw up?”
“I can accelerate to supersonic and hypersonic speeds once we have clearance. I will slow down if the system detects flight sickness.”
“Okay, take us up at your leisure.”
She lifted gently off the ground and glided slowly out onto the field. They had a full hi-def view as she lifted gently into the sky. When she had reached a sufficient height and distance from human habitation she tilted and kicked into supersonic. They felt their bodies press back into the gel, which effortlessly absorbed the pressure. Eden fell away under them until they could see the dark blue of the stratosphere and the curve of the horizon. They went higher and watched multi-coloured continents and the familiar cloud patterns pass under them.
“Are we in zero-g?” asked Nuku.
“Yes,” said Saphira. “Do you wish to experience it?”
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” said Prax.
“What’s the protocol?” asked Biyu.
“It is an expected request. Command accepts curiosity is quite natural, however, experience suggests ten minutes is sufficient, but I must warn you some develop nausea.”
“How do we…?” asked Nuku.
“Push up, the gel will release you.”
Nuku and Biyu pushed at the same time and floated out of their pods, the transparent hull creating the illusion of floating free in space. Prax hesitated but Nuku waved at him to get up. They laughed and giggled as they tried somersaults and twists in the empty space at the rear. Biyu’s movement was fluid but she wasn’t sure she enjoyed the sensation - she was used to working against gravity. Prax’s movement was awkward and jerky because he kept trying to overcompensate. Nuku seemed happy to just relax and float. She thought it was a vaguely erotic sensation and wondered what it would be like to fuck in zero-g, before she realised it would be ridiculous without gravity.
After five minutes their curiosity was fully satisfied. It was fun for a few minutes and then it just became awkward. Prax found himself floundering in mid air, unable to grab a hold or push against something to create momentum. Biyu came to his aid by using her legs to push against the hull. After more twisting and turning they lowered themselves into their seats and felt the comforting pull of the gel.
Paradise Reclaimed Page 48
