by Peter Wood
‘It only looks small because it’s next to Attunga.’
‘Hang on, I’ll get it on the holo. There, twelve thousand passengers and the space ferry’s 300 metres long. It takes twenty minutes to get to Warrakan and they operate as many as they need.’
For the next few minutes they watched the ugly, squat shape of the transport ferry dwindle through space towards the bulk of Warrakan.
‘Do you think we’ll ever get there?’ said Thom.
‘I don’t see why not. We’ve all got good study levels and they still need 150 million more people before they can leave.’
‘It’s not that easy, Wirrin. That’s only 15 million a year out of Attunga’s population of 850 million.’
‘And it’s not that hard, Thom. That means we have nine or ten years to keep applying. They’ll get so used to us they’ll know we really mean it.’
This was a typical conversation: Thom was always pessimistic and Wirrin always optimistic.
‘Ha! I wish it worked like that. You either fit the guidelines or you don’t.’
‘We will, Thom. We just have to keep our levels up.’
Calen nodded.
‘You worry too much, Thom. Our levels will stay high. We’ve all got special interests we’re good at. If Wirrin stops mucking around with his side projects and his sketches he’ll walk it in, and you’re the best worker of all of us.’
‘Mucking round? You space brain! I learn as much from my projects as I do from EdCom and my tutors. It’s nearly another year before we’re all ready to apply so it’s too early to worry anyway. Hey look, there’s two more ferries leaving.’
‘What are those little ones?’ asked Thom.
‘Where? Hey, they’re tiny. I don’t know.’
‘Well, do your stuff with the holo.’
‘It says they’re … automated viewers, whatever that means. It says to check for availability at any viewing station.’
‘Availability? That sounds interesting.’
It certainly did and they hurried to the small reception booth further down the long viewing area and approached the young woman there. She looked about their own age, maybe a couple of years older.
‘Hi, we’re wondering about the automated viewers. We saw some through the real-time display and my holo says to ask about them.’
‘Hi, well there’s most likely a short wait, but I’ll arrange one for you if you like.’
‘For us? What happens with them?’
‘They’re individual viewers with a list of options and you can choose as few or as many as you like. The favourite at the moment is the trip to one of Warrakan’s big space drives; you can see quite a bit of installation activity.’
‘You mean it would actually take us across to Warrakan?’
‘And from one end to the other in a full circuit if you like.’
Thom and Calen crowded close, hanging on every word, and that set the young woman smiling.
‘It’s exciting. I tried it a couple of weeks ago so I’d know what I’m talking about.’
‘We thought you couldn’t leave Attunga unless you had a special purpose?’
‘It’s new. People don’t know about the viewers yet but word is spreading so you’re here at a good time … Here we are, thirty-five minutes wait if you want one for yourself, or twenty minutes if you share. I’ll lock in the thirty-five minutes for you.’
‘We don’t mind sharing.’
‘It’s better when you don’t. That way you can set your own speed and any location and stay with the viewer for as long as you like.’
‘It lets us control the speed?’
‘Speed as well as location, everything else is done automatically by TransCom. I hope you’ve done plenty of zero-G activities because there’s no grav-field.’
She was friendly and Wirrin felt like lingering to talk to her, but the urge to get to the viewer was stronger.
At the departure dock there was a big display showing travel options so they used the waiting time to work out where they’d go.
Wirrin led the way when the boarding lights blinked green, noting that the entrance looked like an ordinary TransCom travel portal. In the short walkway a purple bar gave the standard warning of a gravity change and flashing digits showed just what the change would be. Zero of course.
Wirrin stepped across the bar and his reflexes automatically adjusted. They were all used to zero-G from training exercises when they were little, and then from the many recreational activities that made use of it.
He went through the opening to the viewer craft then deftly guided his body to one of the special seats, twisted into position and slipped the restraining harness into place.
There was a short hum as the magnetic door seal locked into place, and a slight jerk as the docking mechanism released. Their holos blinked as the viewer synchronised and projected its options. Wirrin engaged the first – a real-time display – otherwise they wouldn’t see a thing. Three-quarters of the light grey wall disappeared and they were left hanging in open space, at least that was the effect. In reality the wall had become a screen displaying the images captured by an integrated array of lenses on the outside of the vessel.
‘Unreal! I wasn’t expecting so much display.’
Wirrin grinned at Thom’s reaction.
‘Choose the big circuit and set the speed for max. I want to see how fast we can go,’ said Thom.
Wirrin selected the circuit that took them right around Warrakan, enlarged the speed option, scanned the information, and muttered, ‘I don’t know, Thom. The highest setting is 2G. That’s pretty uncomfortable without any grav-field to counteract it. It’ll feel as if our weight has doubled.’
It also meant they could reach phenomenal speeds in a very short time.
‘Let’s try. We can always change it.’
The viewer started moving, quite slowly really, and they all swivelled to watch Attunga. The drive changed to full acceleration and a great hammer of force pushed them deep into their seats for ten seconds, then eased off till they were almost back to zero-G. Wirrin drank in the scene as Warrakan filled the field of view.
‘How fast are we going?’
‘Look for yourself, Thom. It’s on your holo.’
‘Wow – 230 metres a second. That’s about four seconds to travel a kilometre and it only boosted for a moment.’
Wirrin wasn’t really listening, awestruck by the wild irregular surface of Warrakan looming before him, which was such a contrast to the artificial structure of Attunga. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘It’s been like that for millions and millions of years and we’re changing it and taking it away. It makes me feel a bit guilty.’
‘It doesn’t make me feel guilty. It makes me feel good. It’s getting ready to start travelling. It’s like it was dead and we’re bringing it to life.’
Wirrin loved it when Calen came up with these ideas, and for the next few minutes he contemplated the thought of Warrakan gradually coming to life as people moved to the residential levels being constructed deep in its centre, then the asteroid bursting into motion and independence when it was ready.
The viewer moved slightly away from Warrakan and there was another burst of acceleration, longer this time, and Thom let out a yell when it finished.
‘Wombats! We’ve reached 840 – that’s the fastest I’ve ever travelled.’
It was the fastest for all of them, but it lasted mere moments as powerful deceleration cut in to keep them close to Warrakan. It only took five minutes for the whole circuit, which was exciting in itself, but they hadn’t seen anything properly so they reset the speed and repeated the trip. For the next three hours they tried every option available.
‘Could you override TransCom and get control, Wirrin? It would be great to take it somewhere by ourselves.’
‘TransCom? Dream on, Thom. We’d probably end up totally lost and heading for Jupiter. And anyway TransCom has incredible security. That’s way out of my league.’
‘Jupiter!
That sounds good. How long would it take at 2G acceleration?’
Wirrin did some quick calculations.
‘About four days, except 2G is silly and the viewer couldn’t do it anyway.’
‘What about 1G?’
‘Fifteen days. You’d die of boredom.’
After they’d exhausted their curiosity about the external features of Warrakan, they docked the viewer and, promising each other they’d be back, made their way to the nearest TransCom portal and keyed in their home sector. The zero-G pool would have to wait – they’d used all their activity time.
Right now they wanted food, so they headed straight for the dining hall. After such a long day, with only a snack for lunch, Calen and Thom were as hungry as Wirrin, whose stomach they often likened to a black hole.
***
The routine of student life – three days of general study, two days of Electives, two days of self-initiated activities – absorbed them for the next two weeks. Home for each of them was a student cubicle not far from their education centre. Wirrin’s cubicle was set up with a graphic table for his beloved sketches and a fancy information station to help with study and his extensive InfoTech interests. Thom’s was awash with gadgets and Calen’s was nicknamed the menagerie because of all his animal collections and displays.
Their family bonds were strong, but since they’d become independent, their nursery parents had taken on a new family and were visited less frequently.
Gulara, the mentor who now looked after them, had made certain their cubicles were adjacent, and in their minds the three units were almost regarded as one. In this great space city, with over a thousand residential levels, Gulara watched their transition to student independence closely, and believed their strong bond was the cause of their easy adjustment.
Two weeks after they’d seen the dolphins and explored Warrakan, Wirrin received a priority alert on his holo that sent him rushing to see Calen and Thom.
‘Guess what’s happened!’
‘An appointment with our mentor.’
‘How did you know?’
‘We got one too. So, an hour from now.’
‘All of us? At the same time? That’s strange.’
It was very strange. Meetings with their mentor were personal, and had always been one on one.
‘It must be important. It came as a priority alert.’
‘Wirrin, every alert from Gulara is a priority.’
‘I suppose. Well, it still must be important or she wouldn’t change the schedule.’
Chapter 3
Gulara studied her information carefully. This nursery family of ten girls and nine boys was the most diverse and interesting of any she’d mentored.
EdCom had earmarked three of the girls for leadership training. One of them, Mirrina, was very close to Gulara’s heart and with some guidance her rare skills of compassion and intelligence might even lead to Witness training. Ekala’s passion for music had already made her a name on the sector InterWeb and Tirana’s EdCom levels for science were so good she was already being sponsored by research groups in engineering and astrophysics.
The boys were almost as diverse. Bunji was passionate about his literature and entertainment Electives, Daku spent most of his spare time writing songs and backup music for Ekala, and Girra’s compulsive fossicking through archives about old Earth culture would probably make him a period historian. Wirrin was outstanding. Irrepressible as a child, active and curious, he had grown to be the most thoughtful and perceptive of them all and every meeting with him was a pleasure.
Now these surprising directives had arrived about Calen, sensitive Calen, doted on by all his nursery sisters, and obsessed with anything relating to animals.
Gulara smiled as she recalled nine-year-old Calen smuggling a puppy out of one of the animal contact centres because he thought it was sad and the consternation the little creature had caused when it pooped in his grav-bed.
Well, he’d be excited by this news, but torn by the need to relocate, unless she could help. Wirrin would help too. He’d guide Calen and Thom through anything.
***
‘Make yourself comfortable boys. It’s good to see you again,’ Gulara welcomed the trio in her usual friendly manner. They all liked and respected her, but Wirrin especially regarded her highly. For the last two years she’d been the personal guide for all their plans and decisions and no-one was more important.
According to the open databanks she’d been a citizen of Attunga ever since it was built fifty-five years ago and taken on her mentor role for newly independent nursery children the year before they’d been born.
‘You’re bursting with curiosity so let’s get down to business. Calen, you’re the reason for this get-together – the dolphinarium people want to see you again. Flute has made a request through the AI associated with dolphins for you to work with the baby.’
Wirrin felt his hair stand on end. He glanced at Calen, who looked stunned, although Wirrin knew he must be out of his mind with excitement. Every evening for the last couple of weeks he’d talked of little else, immersing himself in dolphin research. He’d even changed the display wall in his cubicle from an African wilderness to a dolphin experience.
‘Me? Flute requested me?’
‘She certainly did, and more importantly so did Puck. It’s created considerable excitement. Evidently the dolphins want you to live at the dolphinarium so they can have constant access.’
Calen’s face fell, disappointment radiating from him like a black fog.
‘But I can’t. I’m not eligible to leave Home Sector for another two years.’
‘Yes, you can. I can arrange for you to be there tomorrow if you like.’
‘But …’
The three friends stared at each other in shock.
‘And Wirrin and Thom can go with you.’ Gulara was smiling. ‘It’s extraordinarily sudden isn’t it? Like a bolt from the blue – that’s an old Earth saying, about a lightning bolt coming unexpectedly from a clear blue sky. I used to watch lightning before I left Earth. It’s exciting.’ Gulara’s smile grew even wider. ‘You’ll need a moment to take in what I’ve said. We’ve talked about your plans to register as a trio and I wouldn’t be much of a mentor if I couldn’t help you make that happen.’
Wirrin was still agog at the idea of moving to the dolphinarium, and now Gulara was talking positively about their plans to register as a trio!
‘But every time we mentioned it you said it would be difficult.’
‘And normally it is, Wirrin, but you’ve now got recommendations that even a Witness wouldn’t question. My own view is that you should experience trio life for a year or two in a shared living space before registering formally, so I’ve discussed it with the dolphinarium and made that one of the conditions if you decide to go.’
The lightning bolts weren’t coming from the blue, they were coming from Gulara.
The current living space for Attunga citizens was 600 cubic metres, but no-one could claim it till the completion of Basic Level Skilling and Education. For Wirrin, Calen and Thom that was more than two years away.
‘A shared living space? That can’t be possible. What’s going on, Gulara?’
‘It is extraordinary, Calen, but it’s what the dolphins want. After meeting and speaking with you it seems they’ve decided you’re already a trio and mustn’t be separated. You know male dolphins often bond for life …’
Calen nodded eagerly.
‘We think they may regard your trio as a similar kind of bond.’
There was a short silence then Calen’s face lit up as he looked from Thom to Wirrin.
‘That’s why they asked all those questions about how much we mean to each other.’
‘Yes, I watched your meeting and your talk. It was an eye-opener,’ Gulara said.
‘You watched?’
‘Of course I did, Wirrin. I care for you. The dolphin AI requested it.’ She paused. ‘I must say I envy you.’
‘Wh
at sort of things do the dolphins want me to do?’
‘I understand it’s all about the new baby. You’ll find out more if you decide to go to the dolphinarium.’
‘What about EdCom, and our studies?’
‘Calen, that’s irrelevant and you know it. Attunga looks after you wherever you are.’
‘We wouldn’t know anyone.’
‘You soon would, and besides you already know Burilda and Flute.’
The strangeness of the statement set them all smiling.
‘And not many people can say they know a dolphin.’
Thom flung his arms around Calen and hugged him. ‘You and your animals. What have you gotten us into?’
They both looked to Wirrin who flashed them a grin, nodding his agreement and wondering why they always left the final decision to him.
Gulara waited till she had their attention. ‘Well, that was certainly unanimous, but you haven’t even met the dolphin people yet. You should hear what they have to say before you make any final decision.’
‘They’d have to say something pretty bad to keep us away, after all the things you’ve told us.’
‘They won’t.’ Gulara keyed her holo display and Burilda appeared. With a twinkle in her eye she did the slow-wave dolphin greeting and laughed when they replied.
‘Wonderful, Calen. We’ll meet with Flute and Puck this afternoon then I’ll take you to your temporary living space. Honoured one, the dolphins send you their thanks.’
Gulara nodded, then made the slow wave just before Burilda’s image dissolved. Honoured one? That was the term reserved for a Witness. Wirrin stared.
‘Not yet, Wirrin. I’m still a mentor for another five years. I have started early training though and Burilda was acknowledging that. Now, let’s make some arrangements so your big move runs smoothly.’
Wirrin had a sudden thought. ‘Gulara, who will look after us? I mean, if it’s a new sector a different mentor won’t know us like you do.’
‘No, you’re stuck with me … and we have a great deal to discuss. This change might be centred on Calen but it has major implications for all of you.’
***
Wirrin, Calen and Thom had an hour to kill before they set out, but all they wanted to do was talk.
