Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One)

by Lawrence P White

  “You have.”

  “I have, but that doesn’t mean I like it. In fact, I don’t like it.”

  “Has everyone else here done it?”

  “Yes, but we serve the Royal Family and our standards are high. It’s not so on every ship within the fleet. All pilots, navigators, and captains have to do it, but they’re just a small percentage of the officer cadre.”

  “I want to know if I can be a star pilot, sir.”

  “I know you do, and you’ve taken well to the net. I think you’re up to it.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  Jzazbe sighed. This was clearly not an event high on his list. “Very well. Join the net. I’ll meet you there.”

  Val’s eyes widened. “You’re going with me?”

  “I will not send you out there alone.”

  Val’s gaze stayed locked on Jzazbe as he lowered the helmet to his head. Jzazbe reached out and lowered his visor, and Val was in the net. There was no delay this time.

  “Welcome back,” the AI said. “Would you like to review what we did yesterday before going Outside?”

  “No. I haven’t forgotten.”

  Jzazbe joined moments later. “Take us to the top hatch, Val. The one just forward of the top turret.”

  Val didn’t hesitate. With just a thought, they raced through the net to the hatch.

  “I’ll go first,” Jzazbe informed him. “Follow when you’re ready.” He climbed up a ladder and placed his hand on the hatch controls, then turned back to Val. “Remember, we’re in a virtual world – it’s all simulation.” Val nodded, and Jzazbe activated the control. The hatch irised open, and Jzazbe climbed out in a crouch and disappeared from view.

  Val stared at the opening, then he stared out past the opening. He’d expected inky blackness, but even through the small opening of the hatch, stars littered the view. He knew his body should be exploding, then freezing in the vacuum, and a chill shook his body, but it was just momentary. He turned to Artmis.

  >Ready?<

  >Uh, my father was not fond of this, and neither am I. You first.<

  >Okay. Stay here if you want.<

  >I’ll be right behind you. It’s my test, too.<

  Val tucked his crutch under a shoulder and placed both hands on the ladder. He climbed, his view expanding little by little as he drew closer to the hatch. When his head poked all the way out of the hatch, he sucked in a breath. Sharp points of cold light stared back at him wherever he looked, their infinite numbers suddenly filling him with an understanding of the uncompromising vastness of Outside.

  For just a moment, he felt like the abyss would suck him in. A shiver shook his body from head to toe.

  He twisted this way and that, his mouth hanging open to study, to let his mind absorb the feelings coming from his senses, the feelings he must accept if he was ever to call this place home.

  Starlight varied in intensity and concentration. Occasional areas of near blackness might be due to a lack stars, or they might be nebulae with higher concentrations of dust that hid the stars within. He didn’t know, but he knew he would know one day.

  He closed his eyes and let his mind continue seeing the stars, feeling the light, not the dark. When he opened his eyes again, nearby space was empty and dark as he knew it would be, but his view was not dark. A grin lit his face. There were so many stars that he could not make out the familiar constellations of his home, and so much color! In his mind, stars had always been twinkling pinpoints of white light, but now! Yellows and reds and blues all stared back at him.

  Excitement filled him, akin to the feelings he experienced every time a ship landed or took off. This place of unfathomable beauty was their real home, not the space port. This place could become his real home, too.

  He turned to take in more of the view, then discovered Captain Jzazbe squatting down beside him.

  “Please tell me that’s not a grin,” Jzazbe said in amazement.

  “Sorry, sir. I guess it is. This is peculiar, standing in space without a space suit. I know I’m not really here, but it feels like the real thing. I like it.”

  “Not so fast, Mister. You’re not done yet. The idea is that you come all the way out, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” Val climbed another rung, then suddenly found it impossible to move his foot to the next. His grin faded.

  Jzazbe knew the feeling and leaned toward him. “Take my hand, lad.”

  Val stared at him. “I thought I’d feel like I was falling out here, but I don’t. It’s more like I’ll get whisked away if I don’t hold onto something.”

  “It’s different for each person. For me, it’s the blackness, despite the stars. Use your mind, Val. Remember, this is an exercise of the mind. There’s no wind up here.”

  Val took the outstretched hand. He instantly felt more secure and climbed the rest of the way. When his foot and crutch were planted on the outside of the ship, he stood slowly to face Jzazbe.

  “Well done, Val.” Jzazbe reached out both hands and turned him, keeping a hand on each shoulder. They stood side by side staring out at the breathtaking view.

  “Care to take a stroll?” Jzazbe offered.

  “Yes, sir. Uh, just a second.” Val turned back to the hatch and reached a hand out to Artmis. “Come out, my friend. The view is worth it.”

  Artmis struggled mightily, a grim set to his mouth as he first lifted one foot from the ladder, then the other. Val took both of his hands to help him to his feet. Artmis held tightly to Val, but he forced himself to look about.

  >It is breathtaking, but I’d as soon be done with this.<

  On the net, Artmis’ thoughts were as clear to Jzazbe as they were to Val, and he sensed Artmis’ distaste. “Take your time. When you’re ready, we’ll take a stroll.”

  Val held Artmis as they followed Captain Jzazbe. They circled the gun turret, then angled off toward the edge of the ship and walked along the circumference. After a time Artmis relaxed his hold on Val, though he kept to the inside of their stroll.

  “Any problems?” Jzazbe asked.

  “No, sir,” Val replied.

  “I’m managing, sir,” Artmis said, “but I know what’s next. It will be harder.”

  “You’re doing well, very well. Val, the grin is inappropriate,” he added, not sharing Val’s amazement at what they were doing.

  “Yes, sir,” Val said, but the grin soon found its way back.

  “I wish I could share your enjoyment, Val. For me, this is always a challenge.”

  “How many times have you done it?”

  “Four times. Once as a cadet, and several times as an instructor.”

  “You taught at an Academy, sir?”

  “I did, for five years. It was good duty, but I prefer a line position.”

  “I guess you got one. There can’t be many who can claim to be Daughter’s captain.”

  “No, not many, and the importance of her work makes it doubly satisfying. We have one more thing to do here, if you’re up to it. It’s not a requirement, it’s more an act of pride among us spacers than anything else, but you’ve come this far. I want you to take it the rest of the way if you can.”

  “What is it?”

  “We transition to the other side of the ship.”

  Val considered the meaning of the words, then looked hard at Captain Jzazbe. “You’re joking, sir.”

  “No, but like I said, it’s not a requirement. I’ll go first. You two follow if you can. Remember, this is an exercise of the mind, nothing more.”

  Val gulped. “More like an exercise of will, sir.”

  “That, too,” Jzazbe replied grimly. He sat down near the edge of the ship, then rolled over on his stomach with his feet toward the edge of the ship. Slowly, carefully, he edged his way outward to his waist. His legs and feet clung to the curved edge of the ship, and he inched further until his body was spread eagled on the edge. He disappeared out of sight, but not out of mind. As always when in the net, Val and Artmis sensed the thought
s of others who were also in the net, and Jzazbe’s personal struggle as he inched his way across the curve, then onto the other side of the ship, could not be hidden.

  It didn’t take long. Jzazbe never let himself stop moving. “I’m over,” he said. “Are you ready, Val?”

  “I am, sir.”

  “Wait,” Artmis demanded. “I’m next. I’m not trying to prove anything to anybody. Val, you’re going to hold me as long as you can. Sir, I’d appreciate you taking hold of my feet when you can.”

  “I will, Artmis. Remember, this is just an exercise of the mind.”

  “My mind is telling me it’s real even though I know it’s not. Here I come.”

  Artmis followed Jzazbe’s example and inched his way out. Val held to his hand as long as he could, but their fingers eventually lost touch, and for Artmis it was an eternity before he felt Jzazbe’s hand on his foot. As soon as he did, he gasped in relief and hurried the rest of the way.

  “I’m over,” he announced proudly to Val. “Come on! It’s not that hard.”

  Val, sat on the edge of the ship and looked out to the stars, alone and considering. The whole purpose of the exercise was to test his mind, not his body. He stood and turned, taking in the vast, breathtaking wholeness of the place he wanted to call home. He would be a starship pilot, of that he had no doubt now. He had passed his test, and nothing would hold him back. This, then, was the place he would call his home, this place between the stars, this place of mostly nothingness, but with those so very important points of light to which he would bring ships someday. This was his new home. He respected it, but he would not fear it.

  He understood the test now. It was, truly, an exercise of the mind. Its purpose was not to see if you could go outside to fix a broken ship. Heck, there wasn’t anything out here to fix that he could see. The test was constructed to determine if you could sustain sanity in the vast gulfs between the stars. And more, it was a test of will. To pass, you had to choose to pass. You had to damp down the instincts that were hollering at you, you had to set aside the natural fright. Fleet officers would face threats, and they had to control their fear. This was one way of determining if they could.

  He knew it was impossible to be out here in space without a suit. Heck, he wasn’t even cold any more, and his chest kept rising and falling as if he was really breathing even though there was no air. When he thought about the fright, it was there, very real, very strong, and at the fundamental level of instinct.

  He stared at the edge of the ship, studied his feelings, examined them, and brought them under control. He damped down the fear, forced himself to see through it, and suddenly he sensed the awsome magnitude of the task before him. He savored the feeling for a time.

  “Ship, you’ve created a sense of gravity around the whole ship, correct? It doesn’t matter where I stand, I’ll still feel like the surface of the ship is down?”

  “I know what you’re thinking, Val. So, too, do the others. You are correct.”

  Captain Jzazbe interjected. “Val, our purpose here is not to impress others, it is only to test ourselves. It is your own mind your are testing, not mine.”

  “Understood, sir. This is a test I assign myself.” He stood, and his fear remained under control. He knew he was right, that his mind was right. He crutched toward the edge of the ship fully upright and continued crutching across the curved edge of the ship until he had come all the way around to face Jzazbe and Artmis.

  He approached Jzazbe and saluted, the grin no longer on his face. What he had just done was not the foolish prank of a child, it was more like a test of manhood, and his mind had been equal to the task.

  “Well done, Val,” Jzazbe said as he saluted back. “That’s a first, and something I’d never considered. I think I’ll give it a try myself.”

  “We’re not out here to impress others, sir,” Val said, turning Jzazbe’s words back to him.

  “Indeed, we are not. I’m going to do it, and it is not an act of showmanship any more than was yours. Actually, I believe your method might be easier than my own. Wait here.”

  Jzazbe stepped to the edge of the ship, then just kept walking, his body always at right angles to the surface of the ship. He disappeared from view, but he returned shortly.

  “Amazing. It works! By the way, have you looked up from this side of the ship?”

  Val turned around and looked up. He gasped. Directly overhead was a bright, elongated ellipse of light. He knew without being told that he was looking toward the center of the galaxy. The galaxy was truly a disc. He’d seen it from the ground, but never in such majestic glory. And . . . that was where his future lie. He would traverse a portion of that great ellipse during whatever years lie ahead of him, and he would do so in the uniform of an imperial officer. His leg suddenly felt weak. Jzazbe joined him on one side, and Artmis joined him on the other.

  They stayed that way, holding to each other for a long time. Jzazbe pointed out stars that he knew, some of them important sector headquarters of the Empire. He called on the AI to show the other ships of the squadron, and dim outlines of several showed clearly among the stars. None of them was close by, so no details could be discerned. Planets, those on this side of the sun, were highlighted, and of course the sun was clearly visible, though they were far enough out in the system that they could only see it as a star brighter than the rest.

  “Seen enough?” Jzazbe finally asked.

  “Yes, sir, for this visit, but I’d like to return,” Val answered.

  “I’ve seen enough,” Artmis answered without hesitation.

  “Okay. Time’s up. Ship, bring us back.”

  “Uh, sir, would it be okay if we climbed back in by ourselves?”

  “Why?”

  “Uh, it just seems like the whole thing would be more complete. I know this is just an exercise of the mind, but I’d like to come back in on my own.”

  “I understand. I have things to do. Why don’t you two stay out here for a while. Come in when you’re ready.”

  “Are we late for dinner?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t worry. Daughter is willing to wait when it’s appropriate.” He stood up, and Val stood up with him.

  Val reached for Jzazbe’s shoulder and touched it lightly. It was probably a major breach of etiquette, but he didn’t care. “Sir, thank you. I shall never forget this day.”

  Jzazbe took Val’s other shoulder and faced him. “Nor I. It has been my great honor to go through this important test with you. I ask that you remember my part in this, for you might have the opportunity to repeat it with someone else one day.”

  “I will remember, sir.”

  Jzazbe disappeared, and Val sat down beside Artmis again. They looked at each other, then both punched the other lightly on the shoulder. Big grins lit their faces.

  * * * * *

  Val and Artmis returned to the bridge. Before disconnecting, Val focused on the AI. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome, Val. You’re done for today. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  When he removed his helmet, he discovered Daughter, Otis, and Krys in attendance on the bridge. Daughter greeted him, but more formally in front of the crew. “So, Mister Val. It appears you will, indeed, have the opportunity to become a star pilot.”

  He went to her and knelt down on his only knee, his crutch acting as his missing leg. “I like it out here, My Lady.”

  “Stand up, Val. Captain Jzazbe has something for you.”

  Val rose and turned to Captain Jzazbe. “Congratulations,” he heard as if from far away. “You’re wearing a spacer’s uniform, and it’s time to add some rank to it.” Jzazbe stepped forward to pin emblems to each side of Val’s collar. “As ship’s Captain, I name you Cadet Val for the duration of this voyage. Congratulations.”

  Val stepped back and saluted Jzazbe. “I’m honored, sir. Title or not, thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me.”

  “You’re a member of the crew now, cadet. You ha
ve no official status, but from here on out you’ll stand a watch just like the rest of us. When other assignments don’t interfere, I should add.”

  “I can eat in the crew’s mess now, sir?”

  “You’re no longer a one-legged beggar, Val, and you never will be again. It’s the only place you can eat, unless the ship’s owner invites you to dine with her. Your sister is hereby invited to join you in crew’s mess, as well.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Val said, saluting him again.

  Jzazbe put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to the side. “We don’t salute on the bridge, cadet,” he said quietly.

  “I understand, sir. I’ll never forget the opportunity you’ve given me.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  Daughter stepped forward to join them. “I feel like I’ve missed out on something important. Too bad the Chosen are not suited to flying ships – it’s something I’ll never be able to share with you. But Val, I know how much this means to you, and I’m pleased to share the event with you. You are one of the lucky ones: you have what it takes to fly a starship, and now you know it. I personally believe there is more within you than just flying ships, but for the moment that is enough. We’re all proud of you.”

  Val didn’t know what to do, so he kneeled before her with his head down. She gave him a moment to gather himself, then lifted his chin.

  “Stand, Cadet Val, and be recognized.”

  He stood, and Krys was the first to throw her arms around him in delight.

  * * * * *

  Val’s training wasn’t over – it had just begun. And he didn’t have many opportunities to eat in the crew’s mess. Daughter, always busy, seemed to enjoy the breaks from her duties to be with Val and Krys. And she found that she enjoyed teaching them deportment. Her own training on such matters had begun almost at birth, and she really had to think about things that had become second nature to her.

  Val remained on a four hour watch – he had too many other things on his schedule to permit an eight hour watch. Resolve carried a full complement of courses, and even a few teachers. After all, it was common practice among the fleet for children to accompany their parents on long voyages. He and Krys spent hours together every day on their pads and in classes designed to improve their language skills, and Daughter assigned basic classes on history, mathematics, science, and art. Doctor Storvo supervised daily physical exercise classes for everyone on the ship, and Val and Krys were no exception to the requirement.