Traveler_Losing Legong

by Tim Dennis

  "Ahrrrgg!" Harry threw his arms up and quickened his pacing. Myles started to regret speaking. "You always do this. You get some fragment of data through your implant and blow it out of all proportion."

  "This wasn't through the implant. I met him. In Krykowfert's office."

  "Then Krykowfert's playing some game, he's testing you or something."

  Myles hadn't considered this. Was he in line for a promotion? A transfer? He turned inward to consider the suggestion, giving Harry time to calm himself.

  "Geeze Myles, you scared the shit out of me. Men from Earth! Here! Now I'm going to have nightmares about those Transport stories, all that diaspora stuff. You've got me seeing things."

  Myles turned to follow Harry's gaze. Above the Key that held his parent's farm hovered a peculiar ship. Too far away to see much detail, the thing slipped sideways, first dropping low over where the farmyard would be, then rising and shifting course slowly to cross the lagoon. They stood mesmerized. Legong had nothing that could hover and maneuver like that, at least not without making a lot more fuss. As the ship moved closer curiosity turned to concern.

  The central section could have been a piece of Shuttle tipped on end, smooth-sided and large enough for maybe a half-dozen people. The lower section resembled a bloated Drop-Capsule with five articulated legs, roughly mirrored by the top section, with five spindly arms supporting five wheezing and puffing jets. An insect-like stack of three distinct elements separated by two rings of throbbing, humming blue. It soon became apparent that it was heading straight for the cafe.

  "Myles..." Harry ventured.

  "I see it."

  Now less than a hundred meters away, the ship stopped, languidly turning about its vertical axis. The lower section revealed a closed door and the ship resumed a slow hover towards the deck. Myles and Harry turned as one and bolted back into the cafe. Harry hesitated, looking for a hiding place but when he saw Myles run out the front he doubled his speed to catch up. Outside again they felt a pressure, as if underwater, a feeling that was not quite a vibration, not quite a noise. It might have been unusually hot, or cold, their skin prickling unpleasantly as the air took on a faint bluish haze.

  The articulated legs appeared above their heads, reaching down as if to grab, then the body of the thing filled their vision, the hissing of the jets softly mumbling through the wave of pressure. The blue rings glowed brightly, the hissing stopped and the ship settled on its legs in the Cab-lot in front of the cafe. The blue rings winked off, leaving a dull silence. The pressure left them. If there was a time to run, it was now. But before rational thought could return, the door in the lower section opened and a formally dressed Shield Guard Lieutenant, one of Krykowfert's own, leaned out.

  "Advocate Tugot?" He asked.

  "Uh. Y-yes." Myles answered.

  "Director Krykowfert would like to see you on Central Command. Right away."

  "O. O. O.K."

  A ladder extended the meter or so from ship to dusty soil and the Lieutenant slid down. "Now."

  7

  Through the tiny tr'indos of a docked Shuttle one saw either a close-up view of the fat donut that contained the Shuttle Lobby, or, from the other side of the aisle, a grand view of Launch Rails, curving Elevator shafts and delicate bracing that connected the Shuttle Hub to Central Command proper - a one hundred meter thick tube curled into a ring more than half a kilometer across.

  Four hundred years ago, ten of these great Arks carried Myles's ancestors away from Earth to new homes on Legong. Eight now orbited Legong, empty but for the protein farms and vegetable mass biodomes that provided emergency rations to the fragile colony below. A ninth served as Central Command. The tenth was not spoken of.

  Instead of being strapped into the pivoting chairs of a shuttle, Myles stood, and the surprise of the ship itself had not overcome the wonder of this fact. The ship produced a gravity field without spinning. The Guard that had welcomed him sat idle in the corner while another concentrated, holding a master-bar like on any Cab or Skimmer. Two more Guards stood beside the pilot, busying themselves with who-knows what. Myles was taking advantage of the large tr'indo, if that's what it was, to watch Central Command grow closer.

  They approached slowly, allowing a view not possible from a shuttle. All of different lengths, and passing through the center of the ring at different angles, each Launch Rail curved, giving the impression that they'd been twisted by the spin of the Ark. But they avoided the Rails and sporadic cannon-fire to chase the spinning ring itself, and as asteroids shattered behind them the pilot synchronized their motion, keeping even with a panel on the side of the ring. Above it, or towards the center, Myles could see a row of tr'indos.

  Is that the Rim Bar?

  Could be...

  It wasn't. The panel below the windows began to swing away, and inside Myles saw a row of three more of the little ships. With the panel now open wide, the ship slipped sideways, coming to rest beside its twin.

  As Myles disembarked, Krykowfert stepped from a door onto the hangar floor.

  "Advocate Tugot, so glad you could come."

  "Did I have any options?"

  With familiarity Krykowfert's smile seemed more mischievous than smug. Myles felt himself almost smile back.

  "Did you enjoy the trip up?" Krykowfert asked, guiding Myles across the hangar. "You are the first civilian to travel in one of my new ships."

  Myles wasn't sure how to respond. Was this another secret he was expected to keep? Should he pretend he didn't find it remarkable? Did Krykowfert want his approval? The Director's face continued to smile while his eye suggested something more. He was under a great stress, of that Myles was certain.

  He is hosting an Earth-man.

  It's not that. It's something else.

  "Uh, very nice."

  "It is still classed as experimental, but just between you and me, I've been flying them for years. Enough small-talk, eh?" Something changed in Krykowfert's face, becoming serious, conspiratorial, despite the smile remaining. "There is no need to fear the Earth-man. He is merely human, like you and I."

  "I don't fear-" Myles started.

  "Of course you do. You ran. First you ran when I introduced him to you, today you ran when you thought it was he in this ship." There was no guile, no attempt at shaming. Krykowfert was correct, and he was simply asserting that fact. Myles stopped.

  "Look, breaking into a personal implant is an offense, and if you think being the Director-"

  "Ha!" Krykowfert genuinely thought it was funny. "Oh Myles, believe me. Being the Director does not put me above the law, I know this better than you. Come now, it does not take an implant link to see you running away!" Krykowfert resumed walking and Myles rushed to catch up. "Speaking of implants, you know it was not easy to find you, the network is not reading you." It was an odd admission for a security chief to make. Myles's tension eased.

  "Why did you call me up here?" He asked.

  "You forget? I asked you to remain on board. I may not be above the law, but I am the Director, and you are an Advocate."

  "There are other Advocates." Myles said. "Why me?"

  "You were here, others weren't."

  And I wouldn't have been if the damn implant worked.

  A door opened in the near wall and the two men moved from the hangar to a large vestibule with several doors. Myles pointed back to the row of ships as the doors closed. "I'm not cleared for off-world security matters."

  "You are cleared for whatever I say you are cleared for." Krykowfert's sudden switch, his stern casualness, unsettled Myles. "The truth? You are an Unattached Advocate and as such available for call-up. I am calling-you-up. You are now an active member of Shield Guard, assigned as Advocate to, shall we say, unrepresented persons."

  "The Earth-man." Myles offered.

  "Yes. The Earth-man. It has been decided that he should no longer be confined to Central Command and I am authorizing you to accompany him to Legong. You know, give him a tour, show him around."


  "The Council's letting him loose?"

  A second door opened, revealing a second hangar.

  The former hangar had been new enough, but by Krykowfert's admission, several years old. This was smaller, newer. Myles smelled a faint sting of ionized metals. The walls were fresh and new, no patina, no evidence of repair or patchwork. Like the other space, a section of wall was attached by a huge set of hinges. Instead of a row of cobbled-together insect-ships this room held a single, ten-meter sphere, held above the deck by five spindly little legs. Krykowfert stood halfway between door and sphere, letting Myles examine it on his own.

  From the far side the hull appeared much the same, generally round with an occasional bulge, as if not able to contain its innards. A rut or indentation ran around the vessel in two places, splitting it into three more or less equal levels. His first visual impression was of a hard, cold surface. Myles reached a hand up and touched it. He thought he felt a vibration. He heard voices, muffled except for Krykowfert's.

  "Our Honored Guest is being taken on a tour of the recovery efforts at Caldera. You will stay here."

  Myles ducked, looking under the curved hull at four pairs of legs. Krykowfert's and the Earthman's he recognized. The third pair wore narrow, black boots stretched over shapely calves and these stood beside two tree-trunks in trousers. The voices engaged in another exchange that Myles couldn't quite make out and the two new pairs of legs disappeared, straight up. Myles joined Krykowfert and the Earthman just as he too disappeared through the hole in the underside of the ship.

  That wasn't there when I walked in.

  "There you are Tugot." Krykowfert said. "As soon as Norte comes out you may leave on your little trip."

  "Yes, fine." Myles spoke without thinking, somewhat surprised by his easy acquiescence. It had been twenty four hours since his first meeting; and the flight up, a new Legong ship, now an Earth-ship, how could he not be curious? "but exactly where am I to take him?"

  "It doesn't matter. He's been stuck on Central Command since he arrived. Anywhere you go will be new to him."

  "But I mean, this is kind of a big deal. It's the first visit of an Earth person since, well, since ever. There must be some protocol, some official ceremony or something you have in mind."

  "For Turn-Around's sake Tugot, you're sounding like the Council. He's a tourist, take him on a tour." Krykowfert turned away and took a few steps towards the door. He dipped his head and concentrated. After a moment he returned, walking right past Myles to the open hatch. "Move it!" He called up, and then, to Myles, "you're all tense. You need a hobby. You should consider taking up an instrument, the guitar perhaps." Krykowfert marched out with an energy quite different than when they'd entered.

  Myles poked his head up through the hatch. Two massive hands reached down, grabbed him under the shoulders and lifted him through. Thigh-sized arms connected the hands to a similarly proportioned torso balanced atop the tree-trunk-legs he'd seen earlier. A hole opened up in the hairy lump between the shoulders and spoke to him.

  "You're going out with the Earth man?" The man asked. "Ha! Norte's gonna be pissed!"

  The other pair of legs came down a set of stairs in the far wall, bringing with them a torso more delicately constructed yet no less imposing. Norte took a brief look at Myles, pushed passed him and dropped out the hatch.

  "I told you she'd be pissed!" said the mass of flesh.

  Myles turned back to the big man, a sly grin making him not so imposing as he'd first appeared. He winked at Myles and dropped through the hatch after Norte. Myles looked around at what he interpreted as the ship's basement, listening to the conversation outside. Apparently Norte was a pilot, and she'd been promised the first flight.

  You mean the first ride.

  No. She said 'first flight.'

  Where the walls were unobstructed, they followed the shape of the ship's hull, curving, leaving the floor a small circle and the ceiling a larger one. Opposite the hatch, the stairs down which Norte had come rose to a landing about chest height. He decided this must be the way the Earth-man had gone and forgot about the voices and the open hatch.

  A half flight brought him to a mezzanine of sorts, a room, or at least a door, to either side. Another flight and another landing with another closed door and then a short three steps into a seating area that could be any apartment on Legong. Beyond that, a rather unexciting table and a recognizable kitchen. The Earthman sat waiting for him at the table.

  "You are not happy with this assignment?" He said, looking up at Myles with an inscrutable expression.

  "Happy? Just surprised." Myles said. "We haven't had any contact with Earth since the Colony left. That was almost four hundred years, I think."

  "A lot has changed on Earth."

  "I'm sure." There were so many possible questions. Myles wanted to avoid topics the Council, or Krykowfert, would have already brought up. His eyes wandered around the space. "I see people on Earth still eat, at least that hasn't changed."

  The Earth-man's face didn't change.

  Tough crowd.

  Across from the table a second set of stairs led up from the interior wall of the dining area.

  "Two bedrooms." The Earth-man said. "You can look if you'd like."

  "No, thank you. I get the feeling Krykowfert wants us to get going."

  The Earthman stood. About a meter up the wall there appeared another open hatchway Myles hadn't noticed. The Earth-man gestured for Myles to enter. He grabbed the hatch's rim and slipped in between two headrests, dropping into one of seats below. Walls, ceiling and floor curved into one another leaving comfortable elbow and legroom, but no excess. The Earthman dropped into the seat beside him.

  "Pilothouse?" Myles asked. The Earthman exhibited the first recognizable expression since they'd met: confusion. Myles attempted to explain. "Um, you're the Pilot, this is the Pilot's 'house'"

  "Yes. This is my pilot house." The Earth-man smiled. Not the vapid, forced smile Myles expected. Myles couldn't help smiling back.

  The Earthman turned to face forward and the room disappeared, leaving them hovering in mid-air in the empty hangar. Myles grasped his seat cushion and jerked his legs up. The room returned.

  "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to startle you."

  "No, that's fine. I'm fine. You go ahead."

  The Earthman hesitated, looking closely at Myles's face. A bar appeared across the seats a few centimeters above Myles's lap and a footrest formed under each of his feet. The room disappeared again, the seats, bar and footrests stayed. Myles felt a flush of embarrassment and considered declining what was obviously a concession to his previous panic. Instead he let out a breath and nodded thanks. All around them Myles could see the interior of the hangar; newly Makered walls, lockers and other equipment to one side, a great single panel opposite. Krykowfert, Norte and the Big Man were gone. As he watched, the back wall of the hangar disappeared exposing conduits, pipes and the inner structure of the torus. Those disappeared; Myles looked up and instead of a ceiling saw more Central Command's structure, dissolving, layer-by-layer, briefly exposing different decks and the people within, continuing their activities oblivious to the exposure. Then they too were gone. Myles gasped. The Launch Rails, the central hub of the Shuttle Lobby, all gone. The two sat in their chairs in naked space surrounded by stars and infinite blackness. Myles craned his neck around, looking behind, below, to the sides.

  We're still inside the hangar.

  Despite the visual deception, Myles and the Earthman maintained the movements of Central Command. Legong, looking much larger than it did through the windows of the Rim Bar, slowly made its predicable circuit around them. Myles instinctively looked away from the sun, but then allowed himself to look back. Spots and flares on its surface were easily visible, the star itself dimmed to a soft glow. Occasional flashes distracted him as other orbiting stations tracked and destroyed unwelcome meteors.

  "Shall we?" Asked the Earthman.

  Myles untwisted himsel
f and swept his arm in a grand gesture of 'after you.'

  Central Command and the hangar re-appeared. From a pocket the Earthman took a small orange pod, shaped to fit the palm of his hand.

  "Where'd you get that Manual Link?" Myles asked.

  The Earthman held it up for Myles to see. "The Director gave it to me. He explained how it is used to open the hangar doors."

  "It'll do a lot more than that." Myles said. "It's a training device, something usually given to children before they get their first implant. It hooks you into the communications network and the public database."

  The Earthman looked at it with curiosity, then closed his hand around it and turned his focus to the hangar. The quality of light changed in the room, shadows sharpened and darkened. Myles imagined he could hear the hiss of escaping air. A large section of the curved wall lifted away on massive hinges and once again the emptiness of space appeared before them. The ship floated through the opening and for a few minutes stayed even with the hangar door, matching the rotation of Central Command.

  "How did you create those images? The shaving off of layers of Central Command I mean?"

  "The ship does it. I don't know all the details."

  That could be true. Myles was capable, on a good day, of operating most of the devices on his world, but he didn't know how a single one of them worked. He sat, watching the sky change as the ship followed Central Command as if tethered to it.

  "What about those other two?" Myles asked. "What were they doing in here?"

  "Peto and Norte? Your Council wishes to know how my ship works."

  "So you just let them in? Is that wise?"

  "Your people were kind enough to allow me into their ship, so I allowed your people into mine."

  'Kind enough?' The man's a diplomat.

  Finally the ship drifted a few kilometers away from Central Command, turning to focus on the planet below. For a while longer the ship kept pace with the orbiting station. The view renewed Myles's vertigo. He thought to grab the bar across his lap but didn't. If it wasn't real, if it was only an image of a bar, knowing the truth might undermine the feeling of security it produced. He kept his hands by his sides.