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I headed to the control room to finish off the launch prep. Logan, Aurore, and Hernandez were clustered around the large 3V display showing clumps of bright stars along with a green glowing "snake" connecting several of the dots.
"Is that the latest MusCat vision of the path to god?" I said.
"Not anything so convoluted." Logan grinned and gestured at Hernandez. "SecOps has provided us with the Sacagawea's complete planned route."
The path was roughly circular and looked like someone's halo had fallen off and been mangled in a waste processor unit. It started at our own star system and cut across to the Lalande 21183 system, then dog-legged up to several others that only had catalog numbers. Then it went through the recently explored Learmonth and Buang's star systems before dropping back down through Procyon and Sirius, after which they should have returned to good old Sol. It was one of the most extended routes attempted by a USP ship, involving nine successive Jumps for a total round-trip distance of around ninety light-years.
As the display spun around a big kink poked out on the outward route that looked strangely out of place with the rest of the journey. "Does anyone mind if I take the controls?"
No one raised an objection. "What have you seen, Joe?" said Logan.
"A map through my large intestine."
I zoomed in on two of the projected Jumps until they filled the viewing volume. At that point, the route ran from GL 388 to GL 382 and then on to GJ 1116A. "See that?"
"The length?" Aurore said.
"According to what we know of Jump theory, the maximum length is three parsecs—around ten light-years. Even with the Casimir generators, we can't generate enough energy to produce a manifold tear that goes farther."
"And these Jumps are longer." Logan wasn't asking.
"The first is over twelve—the second almost fourteen." I pulled up the info displays on the Jump routes.
"You guys are way ahead of me," Hernandez said. "I'm just a grunt who knows how to spin a few wrenches."
"So did they do the journey in two stages or somehow manage it in one?" Aurore said.
That was the question that had leapt into my head the minute I'd seen the long paths. A Jump didn't have to be between two stars—it could be to any point in a spherical volume. "Has anyone heard of a ship Jumping into deep space and then continuing?"
Apparently no one had.
There was no reason to avoid Jumping into deep space, but there was also nothing to encourage it. The galaxy was deep, uninviting, and dangerous—why risk a Jump to the middle of nowhere? At least hopping from star to star kept you oriented, no mean trick when you're moving through a three-dimensional space where coordinates are entirely optional.
We were like ancient mariners clinging to the shore for comfort. Back then, they didn't know if their boats were strong enough to survive away from the relative safety of coastal waters. Now we had similar worries about our ships in space. Humans are irrational creatures at best, and when we fear something, it finds unique ways to express itself.
"Maybe the captain wanted to be the first interstellar Columbus?" Hernandez shrugged. "You know. Get in the record books."
"What do we know about the crew?" I looked at Logan.
"Leonard Begay is the captain, and he's an experienced MilSec officer. Like most Earth people, he doesn't have much space experience, but this is his third Jump mission. His crew has mixed levels of experience, so about what you'd expect, given the restrictions we've had to work with in the past." Logan hadn't needed to check the files.
"Not much to go on," Aurore said. "But he doesn't sound like the type who'd take a risk without good reason."
I agreed, but it didn't get us anywhere. I closed the star map and brought up the ship upgrade status. Everything was showing green except the final plumbing and control systems, which we'd have to finish while we were traveling.
"Looks like it's time to ship out," I said.
I strapped myself into the main piloting seat, and the others took their stations. My request to traffic control for clearance was given with almost unseemly haste. "I think they're glad to see us leave," I said.
"They're anxious to get their docking port back with all the activity going on." Logan checked the moorings. "We're clear."
I directed the computer to move us out from the station, keeping our velocity under five meters per second while inside the inner navigation markers, but as soon as we were clear of the general flock of traffic, I lifted the boost until we were at full acceleration. This made things easier as we could walk around and work at a third of a g instead of floating or using the sticky flooring to fake it. I wasn't worried about Logan and Aurore, but other than Giotto, I didn't know what experience the MilSec team had.
As we left Earth's orbit, we moved eastward with the planet's rotation and slid past the Hyasynth orbital platform, still considered the height of Corporate luxury living. We picked up speed, clearing the Atlantic Ocean, and could see Tali Panjang—the PAC space elevator—rising like an impossibly thin spider web strand from its anchor point outside Bengkulu in Indonesia. Tali Panjang had been completed before the High-Rig, with the PAC receiving help from their erstwhile friends in the Atolls. Already, though, we were leaving Earth behind. We crossed lunar orbit four hours later and could relax a little with the ship on autopilot.
My plan was to head toward Mars, completing the work on the CASTOR system and testing it along the way. We'd received reluctant clearance from the Atolls for Mars approach to restock the water tanks—otherwise, our extra boost capability would be depleted during testing. How this had been negotiated, I had no idea. They didn't want us Earthers anywhere near their facilities.
The MilSec people kept mostly to themselves, which was fine by me. But on day three, as I was heading to my room, I found Hernandez and Sullivan blocking the corridor next to an unused cabin. The Sergeant looked up as I approached and waved. "Sorry, Ballen. We'll be out of the way soon."
"Problem?" I said, craning to see through the door.
Hernandez turned to face me, obscuring my view. "We're removing the partition wall to make this a double."
"Yeah?" I caught a glimpse of Giotto. "Who's getting married, and do I get an invite to the bachelor party?"
Hernandez looked at me as if I was speaking in high-Martian then laughed. "We're clearing space to make a combined gym and hand-to-hand practice area. Don't want my guys to get soft. Logan okayed it."
I was puzzled. The ship had an exercise room toward the back of the main corridor. It wasn't much, a basic programmable resistance exoskeleton and some room to work up a sweat. But I couldn't see why they'd need more than that.
Grant appeared down the corridor carrying a crate liberally decorated with MilSec stickers. It was about half a meter on each side and looked too heavy for one person if we'd been on Earth, but his Geneering and the lower gravity made it possible for him to lug it around on his own.
Hernandez pointed through the door. "Anywhere in there."
I'm no expert on military designation codes, so the labels on the crate didn't mean much. But even a grease monkey like me could translate the yellow and black striped "Danger" signs.
"What's in the box?" I said, watching Hernandez for his reaction.
He blinked twice, his smile as stiff as a corpse at a picnic. "Exercise equipment."
Once Grant was inside, Hernandez let me go by, and I made my way to my cabin. It could have been on the level—military types, especially Geneered, have a tendency to think with their gluteus maximus—but maybe it was something else. I knew better than to poke around their operations and would talk to Logan about it the next time we had a quiet moment. Besides, I had other things to worry about.
After throwing on a set of coveralls, it was time to interface the new controls with the ship's main systems. Logan and Aurore were working on the plumbing, while I had the job of ensuring everything could communicate.
At the narrowest section of the main hull was a short antechamber where the forward section of the Shokasta joined onto the wider section that contained the main reactors. The control circuits ran behind the inner bulkheads providing a place to patch into the circuitry near the reactor and the star chamber of the CASTOR system. The area was barely big enough for two people to stand in. When I pulled the access panels, I was greeted by a packed array of control circuitry and conduits that looked like the aftermath of an insane HVAC experiment. I sighed. I'd have to isolate and remove several subsystems to gain access, and the computers that design these things never took into account someone having to service or repair them.
I removed the first layer, my hands working on autopilot as I thought about Dollie, wondering what her new job could be. I was surprised. She'd enjoyed running the cab service. Sure, it was tough to recruit drivers right now, but the situation would stabilize eventually, and with her contacts and social skills, I felt sure business would recover.
My mind edged toward her relationship with Sigurd and bounced away again like an accusation of corruption ricocheting off a politician. I hoped she wasn't getting in too deep. From what Dollie had told me, their relationship had been abusive, so it was even more of a surprise to see them together. Despite the divorce, I didn't want her to suffer any more. We'd both been through enough.
I was bouncing between ideas about how I could get back with Dollie, plus other unlikely possibilities, when my comm-set beeped. I was levering a stubborn fitted duct at the time, and the pry bar I was using slipped, slicing across the back of my hand to leave a bloody gash several centimeters long.
"Damn." I shook my hand, sending a splatter of blood across the wall.
"Hello to you too, Joe." It was Aurore. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Did you get the Jacuzzi plumbed in yet?"
"We've finished the first three sections. That's enough for one morning. I told Logan I'm not doing any more until he comes up with some lunch. You should join us."
"Sounds like good progress. I've downloaded a book called Teach Yourself Snorkeling Without an Air Supply. Looks right up my alley." My hand was stinging, and lazy trickles of blood wandered down my fingers. I grabbed a rag and wrapped it around to staunch the flow.
"Don't say things like that, Joe. Come and eat with us."
"I'll be there after I stop in at the MedBay."
"What happened?" I could almost see her eyes rolling.
"I want to loot the isopropyl alcohol supplies before someone else thinks of it." I heard a low grunt in the background, and realized Logan must have heard. "See you in five."
My hand was getting numb as I climbed up to the MedBay, the improvised bandage making it hard to grip the handholds that ran up the wall. Once there, I cleaned it up, then sprayed on a coat of MediSkin to keep it protected and hopefully infection free. It only took a few minutes to dry, then I dragged myself to the wardroom.
After zapping a meal pack for twenty seconds, I grabbed a tube of coffee and sat with the others.
"What happened?" Logan pointed at the patch of MediSkin.
I unpeeled the wrapper from the food and salivated at the smell. It wasn't good quality—I just realized how hungry I was. "Cut myself shaving."
"You holding up okay, Joe?" His dark eyes were wide with concern. "Anything the nerve-tranq can't handle?"
As usual, he managed to cut through everything to the real problem. Since we'd left, I'd been dry and was relying on the 'tranq to control the shakes. But my body still craved the booze and hadn't yet come to a truce with the idea that it had lost on that front, at least for the time being. I tried to recall the moment my hand slipped. I'd been deep in thought, not paying as much attention as I should have. Could I have developed the shakes and not realized? I was enough of a realist to know it was possible. A smart part of me said I should get checked over by a MedTech right away, but that part wasn't calling the shots.
"Let the man eat." Aurore came to my aid. "He needs calories, not an interrogation."
I sighed as the warm caffeine-loaded nectar hit my stomach. Our first trip out, we'd had to deal with the tepid horror of MilSec standard coffee, which had more than a passing resemblance to chlorinated wastewater. But this time, Logan had laid in a supply of freeze-dried Ruiru-AB17. Not a great coffee, but the best mass market bean left on Earth, and a definite step up from stain remover.
"Want to run a diagnostic on my pee?" I chewed on the reheated wrap. "Sorry. I slipped taking down a piece of ducting. You know how cramped everything is in this thing."
"We helped build it, remember?" Aurore laughed. "The construction plans said pack it tight."
"You sure did."
The MilSec team wandered in and snagged some food. They sat down with us, but even with the four of them we only needed a single table.
"How long until Mars?" Sullivan's ears tinged with pink as he looked at me. "I've never seen another planet."
Giotto looked across at him. "If you think you're going to get the chance to lose your virginity, you're SOL. Those Tollers wouldn't even look at a scroffer like you."
"Hey, come on." Sullivan grumbled. "I ain't—"
"Knock it off, people," Hernandez said. "And Giotto? Try to behave like you're a lady, even if you've only ever seen one on a 3V screen."
"Sure thing, Sarge." She poked her tongue out. "Going to spank me if I don't?"
"You'd enjoy it too much."
Sullivan and Grant spluttered barely restrained laughs, while Giotto glowered before turning her attention to her food.
"Actually, I'm interested in the answer too," Grant said. His hand was over his wide jaw trying to cover up a grin. "Are we a week away? Two?"
"Depends how the testing goes and how much of a change we make in our velocity," I said. "But if we don't hit too many problems, we should arrive in a little over two days."
The soldiers bumped fists across the narrow table.
"Alright," Giotto mumbled, tapping the table with what looked like a live round of ammunition.
"Didn't realize these things were that fast," Hernandez said. "That's kinda crazy."
"What was that first trip like?" Sullivan asked. He was staring at me over his meal with eyes the size of Kohler plates. "Must have been a blast."
I thought about the people we'd lost, Delacort's betrayal, and how Paek's attack had killed our unborn daughter and almost cost Dollie her life. I tried to find the words to describe it all, how it had ripped away everything important in my life, and looked back at him. This was his first space-op, and he looked as excited as a collie pup.
"Yeah... it was a blast," I said, fighting the tension that tightened the back of my neck. "Something I'll never forget." That was true at least, no matter how much I wished I could. Sullivan would learn for himself.
"You should tell them about the time you and Dollie came to the ranch and—" Logan sighed. "Sorry."
I finished my wrap and wiped my fingers. The left ones were tingling from the wound. "No worries. I'm a survivor."
I stood up, and Aurore grabbed my good hand. "You'll be okay, Joe. It takes a while."
"I better finish off the control system. Otherwise, all your hard work will be for nothing."
There was silence as I walked away, but I heard the conversation start up again behind me. I knew Logan hadn't meant any harm, and perhaps Aurore was right—eventually I might be able to think about Dollie and not feel like part of me had died. But that seemed as far off as it had the day I'd moved out.
I got back to work. There's an old saying in engineering, at least as old as the invention of indoor plumbing. Conduit: Everywhere you want to be. The next piece came out relatively easily, and I could almost see the distribution junctions I needed to tap into. I sensed movement and looked up to see Logan shuffling down the ladder toward me.
"To what do I owe this honor?"
"Figured somebody better check your work," he said, dropping the last couple of rungs to land next to me.
"If you came to apologize again, there's no need." It was true, at least in the sense that his apology couldn't make me feel better. I pointed at the open panel. "I'm almost at the control circuits."
Logan ignored my gesture. "Nevertheless, I am sorry, Joe. About everything that you've been through."
"How's the weather outside? Still sunny?"
He laughed. "For the next few billion years or so."
"Then we're good."
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Logan's voice was a low growl. "I could arrange transport for you back to Earth from Mars."
He was giving me a chance to walk away. To crawl back into my own little pit and never come out again. Part of me wanted that so badly I could almost taste it, but somewhere buried deep inside, another part of me didn't.
"And miss all the fun?" I slapped his shoulder. "Besides, it'd be a shame to waste my newfound sobriety."
Logan didn't laugh this time. He examined my face, his eyes seeming to slice through me as though he could see my very soul. "Only you can decide the journey you take, Joe. That's how it always is. The future's like floating down a river—we never know what's around the next bend."
"With my luck, it'll be straight over a waterfall." I shrugged. "Right now, we need to focus on getting this thing installed, so we can get on with our real journey."
He nodded, apparently satisfied. "Let's do it." He started back up the ladder.
"Hey, Logan?" I remembered my earlier conversation with Hernandez. "Did you okay the MilSec guys to tear up two of the cabins?"
"Sure, why?"
"Nothing, I guess."
He laughed. "You could run a masterclass in suspicion, my friend. They needed some more space. It's not like we're short of it on this run."
He was right. The Shokasta was large enough to carry thirty people in relative comfort, or perhaps fifty in a pinch, though it would mean sleeping in shifts or being more than good friends. So far, we hadn't had anywhere near a full complement onboard, and I was happy with that. For all I was used to living in cramped conditions, I enjoyed having the room.
"You better get back to it," I said. "Otherwise I'll be done, while you and Aurora are still playing hide the plumb bob."
"Care to place a bet on that?" He grinned.
I'd never won a bet with Logan in all the years I'd known him, and it was pointless trying. "Sure, loser buys the scotch?"
"Done."
He left me with mixed emotions. It's painful to realize how far you've fallen. I'd hit rock bottom months ago and kept going down. Could I climb back up again with Logan's help? I picked up the pry bar that had gouged my hand. There was a trace of gore on the end, and I wiped it off. I didn't know what might be around that next bend, but I wasn't ready to give in yet.