Authors: Glenn Douglass
Tags: #adventure, #travel, #dog, #future, #space, #rescue, #supercluster
Law's End (5 page)
Sensing an opportunity to pry loose the
information that his employer had clearly omitted from the job
description Kassad offered, "I'll explain myself to you in detail
if you tell me what this job is really about."
With an indignant glare Greene retorted, "We're
rescuing some good people."
With a wry smile Kassad sarcastically
suggested, "Well then how about we just say that travel appeals to
my wanderlust?"
"So you're a romantic?" Greene rolled her eyes,
"I should have guessed."
Leaning up against a bulkhead suggestively
Kassad said, "The universe can always use more romance."
Greene responded as if reciting a mantra, "No,
the universe doesn't need anything. The people in it need hard
facts and actionable data."
Only a little deflated Kassad observed, "Spoken
like a true University woman." Then reluctantly accepting the
rebuff Kassad extended an empty hand palm up. "I suppose that's why
you're not the pirate." An angry rapid barking came explosively
from somewhere in the distance.
Remarking on the bark Greene asked, "Okay,
what's the story with the animal?"
"Canis?" Kassad asked in mock confusion. "He's
not an animal, although he used to be a customs patrol service dog.
A lot of people prefer them over electronic chemical scanners.
Following his service there I'm afraid he developed certain
intolerances for the criminal element."
An incredulous Green inquired, "A customs dog?
And he ended up with you how? Why?"
Replying as if it were the most natural thing
in Laniakea Kassad explained, "Picked him up from a veterinary
rehab hospital. A 'you-know-what' had shot him. The customs people
decided it would be cheaper to replace him than pay the bill. So I
covered his bill and he joined the crew. He's done wonders for
security, as you've already seen, and we don't…" he considered the
phrasing carefully, "discretely transport anything if he can still
find it."
Greene's initial response was a long slow
blink. "So you're also a smuggler?" This term too invoked a torrent
of distant barking.
"Oh no, now you're just upsetting my crew on
purpose." Kassad protested. "Just about everything we transport is
legal…" he reconsidered the assertion, "at least it is where we
pick it up. Protectionist markets can be seductively lucrative for
the sufficiently daring entrepreneur."
Shaking her head again Greene grabbed her
personal gear and headed to the living quarters commenting, "Quite
the set up you have here."
Kassad smiled again while taking in his
passenger's departing form and commented more to himself than
anyone else, "You don't know the half of it."
Chapter 3: "Outbound"
"There is not one way to traverse space.
There is not even a best way to traverse space."
-Galius Tromor, captain of the exploration
ship Cabral
with a pair of tandem seats separated by a center console of
miscellaneous controls and indicators. Originally intended for a
cramped crew of four, including navigator, sensor operator, weapons
operator, and commander, there was ample space for two. The Spartan
acceleration chairs of military use had been quickly replaced by
more comfortable civilian variants when Sabha had first been
adapted for private use. Later Kassad had replaced those with
sumptuous 'couches' from the yacht he'd salvaged.
Greene slid into the cockpit seat adjacent to
Kassad's own saying, "I'm ready when you are." As she buckled in
she noticed Canis curled up in a dog sized acceleration bed built
into the angles of the cockpit's rear bulkhead as the virtual
display expanded to encompass her.
In place of windows information from the
sensors mounted around the hull were compiled and presented as a
virtual representation of the world around them. From the
co-pilot's chair anywhere Greene could turn her head showed the
world outside Sabha's hull as if there was nothing in between.
While this visual representation was useful in the close quarters
of port maneuvering it was the information layer that was most
critical.
In color coded blues and greens with the
occasional symbols in bright red all of the most important
information was presented overlaying the virtual window. A few of
the icons Greene understood but many were from the specialist
symbology that only ship's crews ever bothered to learn. Once they
were in space the symbology layer would be all that remained
visible with starlight being too faint to avoid being drowned out
by even the cockpit's modest lighting.
Noting Greene's expression as she took the
cockpit view in Kassad corrected his passenger with a chuckle, "No,
you are ready now."
Greene rolled her eyes at the quip more than a
little annoyed at the delays that the rescue operation had already
suffered she noted, "And yet we're still here."
"We're waiting on the final check of a port
safety inspection." Kassad explained pointing to the virtual
cockpit window that showed heavy equipment on thick metal arms
extending from the hanger walls to skim along the outside of the
Sabha's hull. "I've trained the loader well but we wouldn't want
any of that gear you brought aboard rolling through a
bulkhead."
Greene observed disbelievingly, "You have a
trained machine and an animal as crew."
Nodding amiably Kassad replied, "Yes, and now I
have a sarcastic passenger."
"You're going to have an irate passenger if we
don't get moving soon."
Ignoring the comment Kassad checked departure
status with the tap of a key and inquired, "So what's all the
equipment for? I know about the medical pods, but what's in the
cases?"
"System's monitoring equipment." Greene
explained. "They'll provide a feedback loop checking the status of
equipment. They can even cut off power to systems that may become
dangerously unstable."
It made a certain amount of sense to Kassad to
monitor prolonged exposure of systems. "I take it that you'll be
attaching those to life support, data, and thrust systems?"
With a shrug Greene said, "They didn't take
long to set up."
And it went without saying that Greene
preferred to work on systems that weren't actively in use. That was
one of the rules her husband had always tried to impress on her
even before they were married. Of course she hadn't had much cause
to work on equipment herself in recent years, and this had been an
excellent stretching of those mental muscles.
In disapproving tone Kassad chided her, "Really
you should tell the captain before making changes to any
systems."
Trying not to be annoyed at what she saw as
petty bureaucratic niggling Greene asked, "Why?"
It was sometimes difficult for Kassad to
remember the startling shift in perspective that deep space work
had brought him. The way those living their planned and managed
lives secure in the belief that there was a place for everything
and everything was in its place. The reality was that their
personal electronic assistants managed everything behind the scenes
to present that illusion. So extensive was the ability to forecast
and plan for world based events that only rarely did things fall
apart in such a way that people had their routines
interrupted.
"The answer is because a captain is legally
responsible for the condition of his ship." Seeing that Greene was
unimpressed by the answer Kassad elaborated, "If we get stopped by
a custom's patrol they're going to ask me if there have been any
changes to equipment from what is listed in the registry. If you
make changes I'm the one responsible. If I don't know about the
changes then I'm derelict in my responsibilities. A lot of polities
will take your ship for that sort of thing."
It still didn't make much sense to Greene who
shook her head saying, "It's a strange life you have out
here."
"No," Kassad explained patiently, "it's
straightforward and simple, but different. There's never any
confusion as to who is responsible for what and when." Although
Kassad noted mentally that when one worked alone things were even
simpler. "To prevent any future faux pas just ask before making any
changes to ship's equipment."
Dismissively Greene replied, "You just worry
about getting us to Law's End."
There was a lot that Kassad was willing to let
go unanswered for the amount of money this job promised and so he
turned his attention to the task at hand. "Beckstine Ground
Control, this is the Sabha, berth Seven A, with clearance Three
Romeo Oscar Juliette, requesting taxi instructions to priority
orbital path."
Offhandedly Kassad wondered if this were the
third Rescue Operation clearance granted that day or for the
operational cycle of the starport. A Romeo Oscar Juliette
designation let everyone know in the most legal way possible what
the Sabha was up to. Anyone glancing at their cockpit or bridge
navigation display would see the letters in red over the Sabha's
sensor track making everyone aware this was not some routine cargo
run or tourism jaunt.
The disembodied voice that answered was firm
enough to represent a veteran operator or an artificial purpose
built construct. "Sabha, this is Beckstine Ground Control. You are
granted clearance to departure track India. Be aware of heavy cargo
haulers in transit above your track. Contact Orbital Traffic
Control for clearance to orbital path. Good luck Sabha."
The world side starport of Beckstine had too
much traffic to get to know the people running it on the personal
basis that most small operators like Kassad depended upon. It was
also large enough and dealt with enough traffic that preferential
treatment for preferred customers was of dubious value anyway. Even
a designated rescue operation only got the Sabha moved to near the
front of the waiting list for the designated off-world transit
pathways. Although everyone recognized the importance of a rescue
operation it couldn't force everyone to stop what they were doing
with this much traffic in play.
For Kassad the big question raised by all of
this was whether they would grant the designation lightly. It was
worth knowing if a shrewd ship's captain could get such head of the
line privileges even if their holds were packed with commercial
exports. It was the sort of information that could win one port
preference over another as a way station in the hundred thousand
galaxies.
Even without windows the full spectrum sensor
display wrapping around the cockpit provided a better-than-eyes
view of everything above, below, and around the Sabha. Lifting free
of the hanger provided a dizzying panoramic of cargo traffic in
route to and from the starport and the numerous industrial centers
on the world. A receding series of bright green squares was painted
over the view to indicate the approved transit corridor for the
Sabha as a convoy of building sized cargo haulers passed
overhead.
Keying the communications channel to Ground
Traffic Control one last time Kassad announced, "This is Sabha,
tracking heavies, thank you Ground Control."
On the other hand if the port made a habit of
routing small traffic under large traffic it would be a mark
against them. Large traffic produced large down forces that tended
to buffet any vessels transiting below, with the possibility of
inflicting expensive foreign object damage. Weaving within the
designated traffic track the Sabha evaded the potential navigation
hazards from above as she made her way to the designated orbital
pathway.
Arriving at the departure zone Kassad switched
channels, "Beckstine Orbital Control, this is Sabha clearance Three
Romeo Oscar Juliette, holding at departure track India, outbound
and awaiting instructions."
Of course the computer systems would do all the
work of scheduling and plotting traffic. It was even questionable
if the voices Kassad was interacting with were synthesized or an
indicator of an actual buffer between transiting ships and the
machinery that routed them. Typically large population worlds keep
part of their population employed in these jobs while less
populated worlds relied completely on automation. Then again in the
hundred thousand galaxies virtually anything was possible and very
little of it would have surprised Kassad.
A new voice crackled into being in the cockpit,
"Sabha, you are cleared to depart via orbital track India, contact
System Traffic Control prior to orbit. Good luck."
It was the second 'good-luck' and it put Kassad
in mind of a very natural reaction from a sentient being reacting
to a rescue mission instead of a machine response, but Misses
Greene interrupted his pondering by saying, "It certainly is a lot
of work to get off a world."
Smiling at the uninitiated comment Kassad
angled the Sabha's bow up into the virtual corridor to orbit. With
the shift in ship's orientation the world's gravity was now at
their backs and pulled them more firmly into their seats. Balanced
on the reactionless drive in this way Sabah only yielded slightly
to the world's winds.
information that his employer had clearly omitted from the job
description Kassad offered, "I'll explain myself to you in detail
if you tell me what this job is really about."
With an indignant glare Greene retorted, "We're
rescuing some good people."
With a wry smile Kassad sarcastically
suggested, "Well then how about we just say that travel appeals to
my wanderlust?"
"So you're a romantic?" Greene rolled her eyes,
"I should have guessed."
Leaning up against a bulkhead suggestively
Kassad said, "The universe can always use more romance."
Greene responded as if reciting a mantra, "No,
the universe doesn't need anything. The people in it need hard
facts and actionable data."
Only a little deflated Kassad observed, "Spoken
like a true University woman." Then reluctantly accepting the
rebuff Kassad extended an empty hand palm up. "I suppose that's why
you're not the pirate." An angry rapid barking came explosively
from somewhere in the distance.
Remarking on the bark Greene asked, "Okay,
what's the story with the animal?"
"Canis?" Kassad asked in mock confusion. "He's
not an animal, although he used to be a customs patrol service dog.
A lot of people prefer them over electronic chemical scanners.
Following his service there I'm afraid he developed certain
intolerances for the criminal element."
An incredulous Green inquired, "A customs dog?
And he ended up with you how? Why?"
Replying as if it were the most natural thing
in Laniakea Kassad explained, "Picked him up from a veterinary
rehab hospital. A 'you-know-what' had shot him. The customs people
decided it would be cheaper to replace him than pay the bill. So I
covered his bill and he joined the crew. He's done wonders for
security, as you've already seen, and we don't…" he considered the
phrasing carefully, "discretely transport anything if he can still
find it."
Greene's initial response was a long slow
blink. "So you're also a smuggler?" This term too invoked a torrent
of distant barking.
"Oh no, now you're just upsetting my crew on
purpose." Kassad protested. "Just about everything we transport is
legal…" he reconsidered the assertion, "at least it is where we
pick it up. Protectionist markets can be seductively lucrative for
the sufficiently daring entrepreneur."
Shaking her head again Greene grabbed her
personal gear and headed to the living quarters commenting, "Quite
the set up you have here."
Kassad smiled again while taking in his
passenger's departing form and commented more to himself than
anyone else, "You don't know the half of it."
Chapter 3: "Outbound"
"There is not one way to traverse space.
There is not even a best way to traverse space."
-Galius Tromor, captain of the exploration
ship Cabral
with a pair of tandem seats separated by a center console of
miscellaneous controls and indicators. Originally intended for a
cramped crew of four, including navigator, sensor operator, weapons
operator, and commander, there was ample space for two. The Spartan
acceleration chairs of military use had been quickly replaced by
more comfortable civilian variants when Sabha had first been
adapted for private use. Later Kassad had replaced those with
sumptuous 'couches' from the yacht he'd salvaged.
Greene slid into the cockpit seat adjacent to
Kassad's own saying, "I'm ready when you are." As she buckled in
she noticed Canis curled up in a dog sized acceleration bed built
into the angles of the cockpit's rear bulkhead as the virtual
display expanded to encompass her.
In place of windows information from the
sensors mounted around the hull were compiled and presented as a
virtual representation of the world around them. From the
co-pilot's chair anywhere Greene could turn her head showed the
world outside Sabha's hull as if there was nothing in between.
While this visual representation was useful in the close quarters
of port maneuvering it was the information layer that was most
critical.
In color coded blues and greens with the
occasional symbols in bright red all of the most important
information was presented overlaying the virtual window. A few of
the icons Greene understood but many were from the specialist
symbology that only ship's crews ever bothered to learn. Once they
were in space the symbology layer would be all that remained
visible with starlight being too faint to avoid being drowned out
by even the cockpit's modest lighting.
Noting Greene's expression as she took the
cockpit view in Kassad corrected his passenger with a chuckle, "No,
you are ready now."
Greene rolled her eyes at the quip more than a
little annoyed at the delays that the rescue operation had already
suffered she noted, "And yet we're still here."
"We're waiting on the final check of a port
safety inspection." Kassad explained pointing to the virtual
cockpit window that showed heavy equipment on thick metal arms
extending from the hanger walls to skim along the outside of the
Sabha's hull. "I've trained the loader well but we wouldn't want
any of that gear you brought aboard rolling through a
bulkhead."
Greene observed disbelievingly, "You have a
trained machine and an animal as crew."
Nodding amiably Kassad replied, "Yes, and now I
have a sarcastic passenger."
"You're going to have an irate passenger if we
don't get moving soon."
Ignoring the comment Kassad checked departure
status with the tap of a key and inquired, "So what's all the
equipment for? I know about the medical pods, but what's in the
cases?"
"System's monitoring equipment." Greene
explained. "They'll provide a feedback loop checking the status of
equipment. They can even cut off power to systems that may become
dangerously unstable."
It made a certain amount of sense to Kassad to
monitor prolonged exposure of systems. "I take it that you'll be
attaching those to life support, data, and thrust systems?"
With a shrug Greene said, "They didn't take
long to set up."
And it went without saying that Greene
preferred to work on systems that weren't actively in use. That was
one of the rules her husband had always tried to impress on her
even before they were married. Of course she hadn't had much cause
to work on equipment herself in recent years, and this had been an
excellent stretching of those mental muscles.
In disapproving tone Kassad chided her, "Really
you should tell the captain before making changes to any
systems."
Trying not to be annoyed at what she saw as
petty bureaucratic niggling Greene asked, "Why?"
It was sometimes difficult for Kassad to
remember the startling shift in perspective that deep space work
had brought him. The way those living their planned and managed
lives secure in the belief that there was a place for everything
and everything was in its place. The reality was that their
personal electronic assistants managed everything behind the scenes
to present that illusion. So extensive was the ability to forecast
and plan for world based events that only rarely did things fall
apart in such a way that people had their routines
interrupted.
"The answer is because a captain is legally
responsible for the condition of his ship." Seeing that Greene was
unimpressed by the answer Kassad elaborated, "If we get stopped by
a custom's patrol they're going to ask me if there have been any
changes to equipment from what is listed in the registry. If you
make changes I'm the one responsible. If I don't know about the
changes then I'm derelict in my responsibilities. A lot of polities
will take your ship for that sort of thing."
It still didn't make much sense to Greene who
shook her head saying, "It's a strange life you have out
here."
"No," Kassad explained patiently, "it's
straightforward and simple, but different. There's never any
confusion as to who is responsible for what and when." Although
Kassad noted mentally that when one worked alone things were even
simpler. "To prevent any future faux pas just ask before making any
changes to ship's equipment."
Dismissively Greene replied, "You just worry
about getting us to Law's End."
There was a lot that Kassad was willing to let
go unanswered for the amount of money this job promised and so he
turned his attention to the task at hand. "Beckstine Ground
Control, this is the Sabha, berth Seven A, with clearance Three
Romeo Oscar Juliette, requesting taxi instructions to priority
orbital path."
Offhandedly Kassad wondered if this were the
third Rescue Operation clearance granted that day or for the
operational cycle of the starport. A Romeo Oscar Juliette
designation let everyone know in the most legal way possible what
the Sabha was up to. Anyone glancing at their cockpit or bridge
navigation display would see the letters in red over the Sabha's
sensor track making everyone aware this was not some routine cargo
run or tourism jaunt.
The disembodied voice that answered was firm
enough to represent a veteran operator or an artificial purpose
built construct. "Sabha, this is Beckstine Ground Control. You are
granted clearance to departure track India. Be aware of heavy cargo
haulers in transit above your track. Contact Orbital Traffic
Control for clearance to orbital path. Good luck Sabha."
The world side starport of Beckstine had too
much traffic to get to know the people running it on the personal
basis that most small operators like Kassad depended upon. It was
also large enough and dealt with enough traffic that preferential
treatment for preferred customers was of dubious value anyway. Even
a designated rescue operation only got the Sabha moved to near the
front of the waiting list for the designated off-world transit
pathways. Although everyone recognized the importance of a rescue
operation it couldn't force everyone to stop what they were doing
with this much traffic in play.
For Kassad the big question raised by all of
this was whether they would grant the designation lightly. It was
worth knowing if a shrewd ship's captain could get such head of the
line privileges even if their holds were packed with commercial
exports. It was the sort of information that could win one port
preference over another as a way station in the hundred thousand
galaxies.
Even without windows the full spectrum sensor
display wrapping around the cockpit provided a better-than-eyes
view of everything above, below, and around the Sabha. Lifting free
of the hanger provided a dizzying panoramic of cargo traffic in
route to and from the starport and the numerous industrial centers
on the world. A receding series of bright green squares was painted
over the view to indicate the approved transit corridor for the
Sabha as a convoy of building sized cargo haulers passed
overhead.
Keying the communications channel to Ground
Traffic Control one last time Kassad announced, "This is Sabha,
tracking heavies, thank you Ground Control."
On the other hand if the port made a habit of
routing small traffic under large traffic it would be a mark
against them. Large traffic produced large down forces that tended
to buffet any vessels transiting below, with the possibility of
inflicting expensive foreign object damage. Weaving within the
designated traffic track the Sabha evaded the potential navigation
hazards from above as she made her way to the designated orbital
pathway.
Arriving at the departure zone Kassad switched
channels, "Beckstine Orbital Control, this is Sabha clearance Three
Romeo Oscar Juliette, holding at departure track India, outbound
and awaiting instructions."
Of course the computer systems would do all the
work of scheduling and plotting traffic. It was even questionable
if the voices Kassad was interacting with were synthesized or an
indicator of an actual buffer between transiting ships and the
machinery that routed them. Typically large population worlds keep
part of their population employed in these jobs while less
populated worlds relied completely on automation. Then again in the
hundred thousand galaxies virtually anything was possible and very
little of it would have surprised Kassad.
A new voice crackled into being in the cockpit,
"Sabha, you are cleared to depart via orbital track India, contact
System Traffic Control prior to orbit. Good luck."
It was the second 'good-luck' and it put Kassad
in mind of a very natural reaction from a sentient being reacting
to a rescue mission instead of a machine response, but Misses
Greene interrupted his pondering by saying, "It certainly is a lot
of work to get off a world."
Smiling at the uninitiated comment Kassad
angled the Sabha's bow up into the virtual corridor to orbit. With
the shift in ship's orientation the world's gravity was now at
their backs and pulled them more firmly into their seats. Balanced
on the reactionless drive in this way Sabah only yielded slightly
to the world's winds.
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