Navigating the Stars

by Maria V. Snyder

  I shake my head. Big mistake as pain pounds in my temples. “It’s different. At the bridge’s window, I’m looking out at the stars, but with the Q-net, I’m with the stars. Does that make sense?”

  “To me and the other navigators, yes. I’m not sure anyone else would understand.”

  In other words, best to keep that to myself. I step toward the door, but have to grab a chair for a moment.

  “Do you need someone to help you back to your cabin?” Hoshi asks.

  “I’ll be okay, thanks.”

  “Well?” my mother asks when I return.

  “Star roads,” I mutter, aiming for my room for a lie down.

  She trails after me. “I’ve heard of them, but the ships are programmed to follow.”

  “Yeah, but the navigator has to ensure the ship listens.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s easier than getting a teenaged daughter to listen to her mother,” my mother snarks.

  If I’d the energy, I’d snark back. And that’s a dead giveaway.

  “Lyra, what’s wrong? You’re pale.” She presses her lips to my forehead. “No fever.”

  I admit to being in pain and she snaps into mother-mode. Giving me a pain-killer, she has me tucked into bed with a cool cloth draped over my forehead in no time.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Navigating the stars might be exhilarating and challenging, but nothing compares to having your mom take care of you when you’re feeling sick.

  She squeezes my hand and dims the lights before leaving. I try to nap, but every time I close my eyes, I either see the universe or the Q-net. It feels as though my skull has expanded and my thoughts are no longer content to stay inside my brain. Instead, they follow the star roads.

  A few hours later, I drag my butt to soch-time. Niall is already there. He has his sketchbook, but it’s closed.

  “Hey, Mouse,” he says when I sink into a chair.

  “Toad,” I say. All I can manage.

  He huffs in amusement. I slide down in the chair, close my eyes and rest my head on the back.

  “Early morning?” he asks.

  Since when did he become so chatty? Or did his father tell him about me falling asleep on the bridge? I glare at him. But Niall’s attention is focused on his sketchbook. Grunting, I return to my nap. Except I can’t sleep now. I sit up straighter, but I’m soon bored. No way I’d access the Q-net right now, not even to check for non-existent messages.

  “So what was that…map thing you drew?” I ask.

  He opens the book and flips a few pages. “It’s the bark of a tree.”

  “Huh?” I stand and peer over his shoulder.

  “It’s really close up.”

  “That’s pretty smart of King Toad to design his dungeon like the bark of a tree.”

  He laughs. “King Toad has many talents.”

  “And a big ego,” I mutter. “What else have you drawn?”

  “Here.” He hands me the book. “See for yourself.”

  Sensing this might be a big deal for Niall, I act casual as I sit down and flip through the book. Flowers fill one page, a sleeping toddler clutching a stuffed bunny is on another. Flowers? A bunny? Who is this guy and what has he done with Niall? Then a realistic portrait of the captain catches my heart—I try not to drool on the paper. Next is a sketch of the Big Fat Frog orbiting a planet. There are a few sky-scapes of the universe. Guess I’m not the only one who likes to stare out the window.

  I glance up and meet his gaze. “These are fantastic.”

  He shrugs away my compliment.

  I reach the last couple pages and stop. He has drawn a few of Lan’s symbols. He must have been watching when I scanned through her research. I thought I’d made that section of the screen too small for anyone to read. “Why did you draw these?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “They don’t mean anything,” I say. “It’s just a waste of time.”

  “Well, when I did a search of DES’s database for them, I found those symbols are on all the Warrior planets and not just on Xinji.”

  “They’re not?”

  “You seem really interested in something that is a waste of time,” he counters.

  “Fine.” I draw in a breath to steady my emotions. “Lan was my best friend and those symbols were important to her. She made a huge breakthrough with them, and they might be key in finding out why Xinji went silent.” Plus she deserved to be recognized for all that hard work.

  “She was on Xinji?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry.”

  Even he thinks they’re all dead. Grief swells, lodging in my throat.

  “Turn to the last page of the book,” Niall says into the silence.

  I flip to the end. There’s a sketch of the markings on my octagon. I say, “Still think it’s a hoax?”

  “No. And I think your friend was on to something.”

  “Yeah, she found a way to decipher those symbols. I was hoping her notes would tell me how she figured it out.” Then I realized he’d said he’d been looking into it. I lean forward. “Do you know what they mean?”

  “No. But the handful of those symbols that I saw, I found out they’re not on all the Warriors, just some of them. I checked DES’s security logs, and Lan accessed all the Warrior planets’ files. She must have dug through a million images of the Warriors and found the ones that matched the ones on that octagon. It took her years to do all that research.”

  “Decades, actually.” And wow, that’s impressive.

  “Maybe if I see the others she included in her research…” He turns his hands up.

  Still not sure I trust him, I consider his offer. “Why are you so interested?”

  “I’ve always been fascinated with the Warriors. Not enough to become an archaeologist like your parents, but it’s a mystery and this is the only clue. Ever.”

  True. Plus it can’t hurt to have another person look at the images. We scooch the chairs closer to the game screen and despite my earlier intention to stay off the Q-net, I pull up Lan’s files. “I can send you the file.”

  “I’d rather copy them onto paper. There’s something about…” He makes a vague circular gesture with his pencil. “…the action of marking paper that just… makes it more real. I know, it sounds stupid.” He concentrates on finding a clean page in his book.

  “I grew up surrounded by scientists so I’ve heard stranger things.” I bring up the first of many of her research notes. “How do you want to organize it?”

  “By shape. The easiest thing to do is find all the glyphs that match the ones in row one and put them together on the same page, marking which planet they came from. Then move on to row two.”

  “All right.” I hesitate.

  “What?”

  “This would go faster if I use the Q-net to help us sort them. There’s hundreds of symbols.”

  He stills. “That’s not for—”

  “Passengers, but I’m an intern now.”

  “You’ve had one session.”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  He huffs. “If my father shows up with his team, I’m saying you forced me to help you.”

  “Good luck with that.” I take Lan’s file into an empty cluster and soon the symbols arrange themselves by which row they match.

  Niall copies the swirls and loops of the symbols while I keep an eye out for the babysitter. When he’s done with a row, I save the symbols in its own file. Prompted by a strange unsettled niggle in my stomach, I add another layer of security and bury the files deeper in the Q-net. We work in companionable silence until the tone ending soch-time startles me. That was a fast two hours. I shut down the game system.

  “Do you want to continue this at another terminal?” I ask him, thinking about the one I used before.

  “Can’t. I have to report for my security shift and then I need to work on my school assignments. Other than soch-time, I don’t have much free time.” Seeing my expression, he quickly adds, “Boredom is a killer out here. Some
people go crazy when they have nothing to do but think of who they left behind or worry about what might happen on Earth when we skip ahead in time.”

  Ah. That makes sense. “What happens if one of the crew or their kids figure out living on a ship isn’t for them?”

  “If they haven’t gotten into trouble before we reach the next destination, they’ll go planetside.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Yeah, like illegally worming into the Q-net,” Niall teases. “Actually, people get pretty creative when they’re bored. Not always a good thing.”

  “Have you ever lived planetside?”

  “No. I was born on a ship and will die on one.” He gives me a mock salute and heads to the bridge.

  Routine claims the next three days. Mornings with the Chief, followed by staring at the universe, afternoons copying symbols with Niall, and evenings with my parents. On the fourth day, I receive a communication from Jarren. It’s encrypted and I answer a bunch of questions in order to access the message.

  2522:027: Wanted to let you know I found some of those deleted files for Officer Tight Pants—man that guy is Mr. By-the-Book. The files are missing chunks of data and are not complete. I’m still trying to dig more out. I’m sending them to you as well. I don’t care what Officer Send-Them-To-Me-And-Only-Me orders. I don’t trust him or anyone in security or DES for that matter. Do you really think they’re going to tell the truth about why Xinji went silent? I also figured your parents will want to read these, too. Many of the files are marked to their attention. Be careful, Lyra!

  My stomach churns. I’m not supposed to have these files, yet they might help my parents’ research. Opening one of them, I scan the contents. Jarren wasn’t kidding when he said they’re missing chunks—it’s more like gaping holes. The file is about the positions of the Warriors—I think—it’s almost unreadable. Maybe the others will be better. I’ll wait until I have all the files before I decide what to do with them.

  2472:034: I feel like I’ve just spent seven days chasing echos! This is the last of the files. The rest are gone, which I never ever thought I’d say. Whoever buried them has some mad skills. Better than me! It’s probably Osen Vee, she’s my idol—that girl can worm and she’s never been caught. Unlike me. Even though I was helping Officer Tight Pants, I enjoyed being useful and hopefully helping Lan. I might even be allowed to work in the Q-net again. Supervised, of course, until they trust me. I know what you’re thinking, Li-Li! And you’d be right—just don’t tell anyone!

  I smile as I send him a reply, reminding him of the boring white walls of detention.

  Over the next couple days, I debate what to do with the files as my insides turn into knots. My parents really should have them, they’re important to figure out what went wrong on Xinji, but to send them to Mom is bypassing the security protocols and I’ll be in trouble. What if DES is keeping vital information from my parents? Argh. I take the risk.

  I sit at the terminal in our living room that evening. “Mom, I need to show you something.”

  “Be there in a minute.” She’s in her bedroom working on her terminal.

  The screen fills with one of the missing files.

  “What do you need?” she asks, coming into the room.

  The buzzer from the door sounds.

  “Just a minute.” Mom looks at the video screen to see who’s standing outside. “It’s Radcliff.”

  In a panic, I clear the screen and retreat from the cluster where I stored all of the lost Xinji files just as Radcliff enters.

  “Is Spencer here?” he asks my mom. “I need to update you.”

  Mom calls for my dad and I’m politely sent to my room. I figure he is finally consulting them about the files. The snatches of murmured conversation I catch with my ear pressed to the door—come on, you’d do it too—confirms my guess. The tightness in my chest eases and my appetite returns. Too bad the food hasn’t improved over the last fourteen days.

  Those incomplete files dominate my parents’ days and all their conversations. I catch snippets of, “maybe they found a new pit,” and bits of, “don’t know what this means.” Frustration laces their tense voices and I’ve learned not to ask if they’ve discovered anything new. Not if I want my head to remain attached to my shoulders. I stay in my room as much as possible over the next three days.

  In fact, I’m working on some mundane task for my mother, when my dad pokes his head in. “Li-Li, Officer Radcliff wants to talk to you.”

  This time, I don’t panic. After all, I haven’t done anything illegal...lately. I follow Dad and stop. Niall is standing—not quite next to his father—more like a step behind as if he’s hanging back. Niall’s stony expression reminds me of the first time we met. Oh boy, this isn’t going to go well.

  “I’ve been informed,” Officer Radcliff says to me in his heavy official tone, “that you can get information to…ah…rearrange itself into a more understandable format by using the Q-net. Is this true?”

  The desire to glare at Niall burns up my throat, but I keep my gaze on his father. From the corner of my eye, I catch my parents exchanging a concerned look.

  Unable to lie, I say, “Yes.”

  Officer Radcliff’s neck muscles tighten and he clenches his fists.

  I brace for the lecture if I’m lucky, the brig if I’m not.

  “Then I’m afraid we need your help again, Miss Daniels.”

  My insides just about melt in relief, but I manage to ask, “For what?” with only a slight squeak in my voice.

  “The recovered files from Xinji are a mess. They’re utterly useless. We are hoping your skills with the Q-net could organize what bits we have into some coherence.”

  “I can try, but no guarantees that it’ll work. It’ll depend on the files.”

  “We would appreciate the effort, Miss Daniels.” The words are nice, but his tone holds a sharp edge. And I have the feeling that if I’m not successful, I might still end up in the brig.

  As the three of us trek to the bridge, my thoughts are on how I’m going to kill Niall without his father finding out. It might be near impossible, but I can be rather creative when I’m pissed off.

  The captain is talking with Chief Hoshi. They glance at us, but continue their conversation at a lower volume.

  Great. Probably deciding if my internship should be suspended indefinitely.

  After a longing glance at the universe, I sit at Officer Radcliff’s terminal. It doesn’t take me long to realize that doing one file at a time isn’t going to work. I need to access them all at the same time—a job too big for this station. “I need to use the navigator’s terminal. The one in that room near Chief Hoshi’s office,” I say.

  “No,” Officer Radcliff says.

  Shrugging, I stand. “Then I can’t help you.” I step away, but strong fingers grasp my forearm, stopping me.

  “Explain.”

  “There’s not enough data in each file. Many of the reports from the planet have a degree of redundancy and overlap. The Q-net can scan all the files at once and group all similar information together.”

  “Stay here.” Radcliff joins Captain Harrison and Hoshi. They lean together like a bunch of teenagers gossiping.

  I ignore Niall, opting to gaze out the window while the adults have their discussion.

  But he can’t take a hint and moves closer to me. “I’m sorry.”

  Apology not accepted. Shifting, I turn more of my back to him.

  “I tried to keep you out of it by doing it on my own,” Niall says. “But like you said, you can’t do it from here and my dad…wouldn’t give up until I explained how I learned about it. And I thought it was more important to find out what happened to Xinji…to your friend than protecting you.”

  He just had to go and ruin a good sulk with his logic. Of course Xinji was more important and I’m a selfish idiot. Facing him, I say, “If I end up in the brig, you have to visit me every day and bring me candy.”

  “Candy?�
�� There’s a half-smile on his face as if he doesn’t quite believe me.

  “Yes. And now you know my other secret. I love a good sugar rush.”

  He presses his hand to his chest. “I’ll die before I tell my father.”

  I poke him in the shoulder. “See that you do.”

  He laughs. It’s a rich deep sound—very manly—and all is forgiven.

  Radcliff returns with the news that I can use the navigator’s terminal. This time Captain Harrison and Chief Hoshi join our posse. Oh joy, nothing like an audience. We’re all wedged into that small smelly room.

  Once I’m in the Q-net, it takes mere seconds to rip the files apart into millions of bits of information. They spread out like ink from an octopus, clouding the space around me. For a moment I’m overwhelmed. Where to start? I catch a fragment that says Pit 32 and I concentrate, calling other Pit 32 fragments. In a blur of motion that makes me slightly nauseous, hundreds of bits fly together. Then I pick another fragment and repeat the process. After a dozen such repetitions, the Q-net takes over, organizing the data into new files. I close my eyes to avoid throwing up.

  “Wow,” Hoshi says. “I never thought to use the Q-net that way. It’s like asking a genius to sort socks—a waste of valuable resources, but in this case…”

  “There’s millions of socks?” I ask.

  “Yeah and it found a better way to do it.”

  I peek at the activity from time to time and after ten minutes there’s a list of new files. And there’s hundreds of them, but they’re smaller in size. “Just to warn you,” I say. “I’ve no idea if these are any better than the originals.”

  “Send them to me and Officer Radcliff only,” the captain orders.

  “Yes, sir.” I do as instructed although I’m tempted to send a copy to my personal terminal. Too many witnesses. Besides, I think I can retrieve them later without alerting anyone.

  “Thank you for your help, Miss Daniels,” Captain Harrison says. “We’ll ignore your prior activity as long as there won’t be any more unauthorized access to the restricted areas of the Q-net.”