Post by Robert on Sept 15, 2004 20:10:21 GMT -5
My story (link)
I have decided to go for a wider audience. This is my story... It is science fiction.
And for those of you too lazy to click on that, here is the prolouge:
Prologue
Theodore Islay sighed as air hissed in through the airlock. It would be good to be out of his ship. Despite sleek and smooth lines and powerful handling, the excellent protection and cargo space, despite the best efforts of the ship designers back in Sol, the Vishnu still was the claustrophobic trap that most ships since the beginning of neocolonization had been. Space was precious. Besides. The air was getting musty.
An automated recording barked through the speakers. “DSP 245-69, readings indicate that you have achieved a fully docked status. Welcome to Falkland.” Only a few places between the recording and the actual designation of the ship, status, and base, blips of sound or words running slightly together betrayed the voice as a automaton. The makers of the device were pretty good at getting the voice of machines these days to where it sounded like a human, but the normal flow of speech didn’t come easily to the pure logic of the machines.
He unfastened the belts securing him and floated free of the seat, taking care not to hit anything delicate. At least the designers of the ship had made it nearly impossible to activate something by accident, by making the “buttons” pull out instead of push in. Going right through the tiny ships was easy enough-it was only ten meters long-and he kicked off into the space station in only a few seconds, grabbing a handhold.
“There you are. We were starting to worry about you. Your ship in a good state?” Theo looked over and saw Greg DeLang grinning over at him, grasping his own little handhold. He smiled himself.
“It wasn’t so bad. Only had a brushup with some Thugs around the Ferris Group, and a few minor repair jobs to do on our satellites. They hold out well, considering they’re going on ten years.”
“Thugs? Again? Second time this week we’ve heard reports of them. Don’t know how they could have gotten out here... Unless...” Greg trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Unless they got their hands on some kind of Sa’id Generator..”
“Impossible,” Theo said automatically. “The plans for those are top secret. No one could have seen them unless they were really high up in the government ladder. No one.”
“How else could they have gotten through?” DeLang said, “The Thugs were only in the Sinhala, Travancore, and Calicut systems up to about a year ago, and each of those were basically separate bands. The only ones we’ve seen in this system came through the Gate, and no one’s breached that recently-especially with the Battleship Brimstone standing guard over it.”
“It all seems so improbable, though.”
“Theo, it might be improbable, but it’s the only way. Without a Sa’id Generator, interstellar travel would be impossible. Wormholes are not stable enough to exist on their own, the things would simply collapse-.”
“Greg, I know that. I took elementary physics, too, you know. But where would they have gotten their hands on one?”
“Theo, you know how those politicians are. A few thou changing hands, and those bastards will give them one, no questions asked. Anything to further their own bleedin’ campaigns, and they’ll lap right up to you.”
“But to give them a Generator...”
“A few thou, that’s all it takes. Trust me, I’ve done it myself before.” Theo raised an eyebrow. “Just to get parts for the base a little higher on the priority list, of course,” he added hastily.
“Of course,” Theo grinned. He wouldn’t really have cared what Greg had spent the money on, he was too good a friend to let that sort of thing break their trust. “But would you still have said that if there was a camera around?”
“I do grow somewhat lax, don’t I?” Greg said. “Must be the problem of living away from Sol: your honesty comes back, even after having it stamped out of you from birth on Earth.”
Theo laughed. Problem was, it was true. Earth always did seem a hotbed of corruption, and everything back Earthside seemed to have politics in it.
“Yeah. That’s why I worked out here. Too much filthy–eh, well. Not that it matters any more.”
“Theo?” Greg said, hesitantly.
Memories from the back of Theo’s mind seemed to creep forth into the light after many years of deliberate attempts to get rid of them. He shook his head and blinked a few times. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Thing is, I came out here to escape all that junk back home. The outer reaches of human exploration. Where the rot hasn’t spread yet.”
“Ah,” Greg replied, sounding as if he suspected he was treading around a pit of snakes. “Well, anyway... Why don’t we go to the bar? Might clear up some thoughts a little.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Theo said, suddenly throwing himself from handle to handle in the 0-G. He reached the door in a little under ten seconds, Greg just behind him. “Wow. You’re just a little eager to get in here, aren’t you? I suppose I should be glad you’re not so glum as you usually are. Nice to see some spring in those hands still.”
“Sure,” Theo said, noncommittal in response. It wasn’t that he was in a good mood, but that he wanted the drinks. He pulled the switch to the door out, and it hissed open. Bracing himself, he pulled himself through, and fell lightly enough to the floor on his back. He got up with care, quite aware that a leap could send him crashing painfully into the ceiling in the small gravity that barely kept him on the floor. His friend came through just a second later, and they were both greeted by the three or so people sitting at the bar’s little tables.
He gave the comp at the head of the bar a few commands, and it mixed him a slug in just a few seconds. He gave it a short pull. “Smooth, strong, and with just a hint of lemon,” he said. “Just the way I like.”
“The way you like, Theo, it probably has about four out of five parts lemon, and the other part water,” Greg laughed.
Theo gave a forced smile, and returned to brooding. With just a few gulps, the glass miraculously emptied itself. “Wonder how the heck that got empty so fast.” He muttered, then held his glass to the automaton to refill it.
“Theo, why are you staying back in the dark? Come out into the light!” Greg said in an amicable voice. He sounded pretty cheerful. Theo wondered why.
Nevertheless, he walked out to the other end of the bar. Greg was lying at a table, so he figured he might as well follow suit. On his back, he looked up through the window above. He breathed out in a rush. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
The station was set up in a gigantic ring , with four prominent “towers” coming inwards like spokes on a wheel. It was spinning, but that hardly mattered to the people in the bar, as it was another tower, affixed to the ring at the meeting point of the four spokes, and stayed stationary in order to allow ships to dock easily. And provide a smooth transition from 0-G to the mini-G in the Bar and adjacent walkways, into the ring which was 1-G.
But the station itself was nothing out of the ordinary. The sight out the front was. Massive and multihued, a blue green gas giant sprawled in front of them, shades that an ocean would envy, the sort of thing eco-tourists would pay thousands for. And then there were the rings, thin sheets of whitish green that swept around the planet majestically. A moon hovered in a corner of the view, a light shade of tan.
“Do you ever tire of this?”
Greg looked over at Theo, and smiled. “I practically live in the Falkland, Theo. I’m used to this sort of view. Why aren’t you? You almost live here, too.”
“Yeah, but most of my day is spent checking some bloody dials to make sure they aren’t showing a fuel leak or some other calamity. I never get to actually pay attention.”
“To each, his own. I personally never even notice the real beauty of the whole thing. I just like looking at the little things, like the rings. You can see a lot of patterns in the floes out there.”
Theo nodded seriously. Greg was like that. He paid attention to the little things, and enjoyed it. It made him a good station manager. Theo always looked for something more. Always the thrill seeker, always the philosopher, always looking for the real meaning of life itself.
He was still looking.
* * *
I have decided to go for a wider audience. This is my story... It is science fiction.
And for those of you too lazy to click on that, here is the prolouge:
Prologue
Theodore Islay sighed as air hissed in through the airlock. It would be good to be out of his ship. Despite sleek and smooth lines and powerful handling, the excellent protection and cargo space, despite the best efforts of the ship designers back in Sol, the Vishnu still was the claustrophobic trap that most ships since the beginning of neocolonization had been. Space was precious. Besides. The air was getting musty.
An automated recording barked through the speakers. “DSP 245-69, readings indicate that you have achieved a fully docked status. Welcome to Falkland.” Only a few places between the recording and the actual designation of the ship, status, and base, blips of sound or words running slightly together betrayed the voice as a automaton. The makers of the device were pretty good at getting the voice of machines these days to where it sounded like a human, but the normal flow of speech didn’t come easily to the pure logic of the machines.
He unfastened the belts securing him and floated free of the seat, taking care not to hit anything delicate. At least the designers of the ship had made it nearly impossible to activate something by accident, by making the “buttons” pull out instead of push in. Going right through the tiny ships was easy enough-it was only ten meters long-and he kicked off into the space station in only a few seconds, grabbing a handhold.
“There you are. We were starting to worry about you. Your ship in a good state?” Theo looked over and saw Greg DeLang grinning over at him, grasping his own little handhold. He smiled himself.
“It wasn’t so bad. Only had a brushup with some Thugs around the Ferris Group, and a few minor repair jobs to do on our satellites. They hold out well, considering they’re going on ten years.”
“Thugs? Again? Second time this week we’ve heard reports of them. Don’t know how they could have gotten out here... Unless...” Greg trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Unless they got their hands on some kind of Sa’id Generator..”
“Impossible,” Theo said automatically. “The plans for those are top secret. No one could have seen them unless they were really high up in the government ladder. No one.”
“How else could they have gotten through?” DeLang said, “The Thugs were only in the Sinhala, Travancore, and Calicut systems up to about a year ago, and each of those were basically separate bands. The only ones we’ve seen in this system came through the Gate, and no one’s breached that recently-especially with the Battleship Brimstone standing guard over it.”
“It all seems so improbable, though.”
“Theo, it might be improbable, but it’s the only way. Without a Sa’id Generator, interstellar travel would be impossible. Wormholes are not stable enough to exist on their own, the things would simply collapse-.”
“Greg, I know that. I took elementary physics, too, you know. But where would they have gotten their hands on one?”
“Theo, you know how those politicians are. A few thou changing hands, and those bastards will give them one, no questions asked. Anything to further their own bleedin’ campaigns, and they’ll lap right up to you.”
“But to give them a Generator...”
“A few thou, that’s all it takes. Trust me, I’ve done it myself before.” Theo raised an eyebrow. “Just to get parts for the base a little higher on the priority list, of course,” he added hastily.
“Of course,” Theo grinned. He wouldn’t really have cared what Greg had spent the money on, he was too good a friend to let that sort of thing break their trust. “But would you still have said that if there was a camera around?”
“I do grow somewhat lax, don’t I?” Greg said. “Must be the problem of living away from Sol: your honesty comes back, even after having it stamped out of you from birth on Earth.”
Theo laughed. Problem was, it was true. Earth always did seem a hotbed of corruption, and everything back Earthside seemed to have politics in it.
“Yeah. That’s why I worked out here. Too much filthy–eh, well. Not that it matters any more.”
“Theo?” Greg said, hesitantly.
Memories from the back of Theo’s mind seemed to creep forth into the light after many years of deliberate attempts to get rid of them. He shook his head and blinked a few times. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Thing is, I came out here to escape all that junk back home. The outer reaches of human exploration. Where the rot hasn’t spread yet.”
“Ah,” Greg replied, sounding as if he suspected he was treading around a pit of snakes. “Well, anyway... Why don’t we go to the bar? Might clear up some thoughts a little.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Theo said, suddenly throwing himself from handle to handle in the 0-G. He reached the door in a little under ten seconds, Greg just behind him. “Wow. You’re just a little eager to get in here, aren’t you? I suppose I should be glad you’re not so glum as you usually are. Nice to see some spring in those hands still.”
“Sure,” Theo said, noncommittal in response. It wasn’t that he was in a good mood, but that he wanted the drinks. He pulled the switch to the door out, and it hissed open. Bracing himself, he pulled himself through, and fell lightly enough to the floor on his back. He got up with care, quite aware that a leap could send him crashing painfully into the ceiling in the small gravity that barely kept him on the floor. His friend came through just a second later, and they were both greeted by the three or so people sitting at the bar’s little tables.
He gave the comp at the head of the bar a few commands, and it mixed him a slug in just a few seconds. He gave it a short pull. “Smooth, strong, and with just a hint of lemon,” he said. “Just the way I like.”
“The way you like, Theo, it probably has about four out of five parts lemon, and the other part water,” Greg laughed.
Theo gave a forced smile, and returned to brooding. With just a few gulps, the glass miraculously emptied itself. “Wonder how the heck that got empty so fast.” He muttered, then held his glass to the automaton to refill it.
“Theo, why are you staying back in the dark? Come out into the light!” Greg said in an amicable voice. He sounded pretty cheerful. Theo wondered why.
Nevertheless, he walked out to the other end of the bar. Greg was lying at a table, so he figured he might as well follow suit. On his back, he looked up through the window above. He breathed out in a rush. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
The station was set up in a gigantic ring , with four prominent “towers” coming inwards like spokes on a wheel. It was spinning, but that hardly mattered to the people in the bar, as it was another tower, affixed to the ring at the meeting point of the four spokes, and stayed stationary in order to allow ships to dock easily. And provide a smooth transition from 0-G to the mini-G in the Bar and adjacent walkways, into the ring which was 1-G.
But the station itself was nothing out of the ordinary. The sight out the front was. Massive and multihued, a blue green gas giant sprawled in front of them, shades that an ocean would envy, the sort of thing eco-tourists would pay thousands for. And then there were the rings, thin sheets of whitish green that swept around the planet majestically. A moon hovered in a corner of the view, a light shade of tan.
“Do you ever tire of this?”
Greg looked over at Theo, and smiled. “I practically live in the Falkland, Theo. I’m used to this sort of view. Why aren’t you? You almost live here, too.”
“Yeah, but most of my day is spent checking some bloody dials to make sure they aren’t showing a fuel leak or some other calamity. I never get to actually pay attention.”
“To each, his own. I personally never even notice the real beauty of the whole thing. I just like looking at the little things, like the rings. You can see a lot of patterns in the floes out there.”
Theo nodded seriously. Greg was like that. He paid attention to the little things, and enjoyed it. It made him a good station manager. Theo always looked for something more. Always the thrill seeker, always the philosopher, always looking for the real meaning of life itself.
He was still looking.
* * *
