Gravity Dreams

A black-haired woman in the dark green singlesuit with the golden web collar pin stepped toward me. 'You're Tyndel? The latest pilot candidate?'

'Yes, ser.'

Her eyes took me in, and she nodded. 'It's harder than anyone can tell you it will be, and easier than what you fear. No one else can do what we do. It sounds arrogant, but it's not, and you have to remember that, outside the Web, you're only a demon.' A brisk nod followed. Til see you somewhere.'

'Captain Siobahna?' called the man behind the desk.

'Here.' The pilot gave a last nod and turned, walking out toward the shuttle by herself.

After Siobahna neared the ramp, the desk man called again, 'All controllers may board.'

A woman in medical red, a man in blue, and a woman in black were followed by a thin blonde in blue.

'Candidate Tyndel?'

I followed the controllers out. Behind me came seven or eight technicians in silver and gray and one in maroon. The passenger section of the magshuttle was as windowless as the two I had taken before and could have been the same, for all the difference I could determine. I did get one of the wider seats in the third row behind the needle pilot and the senior controllers.

Also, as before, the 'dull' scent of composite was overridden by the faintest hint of oil, heated metal, and ozone. A last whiff of marsh or salt air slipped into the shuttle before the door silently slid shut. I checked my harness again, trying to catch the low words passing between the controller in black and the one in blue sitting in front of me.

'... out to Thesalle, this time?'

'... no ... headed to Omega Eridani. More problems with the Conan project...'

'... said that one wasn't true Vee-type.'

'Nothing's true Vee-type, even Venus, and we've got another five hundred years to go there.'

'So why do we do it?'

'Better than bemoaning a universe in which Tee-type worlds are almost nonexistent... might as well do something to have our flowers in more than one garden.'

Flowers in more than one garden ... I nodded at that.

'Please make sure your harnesses are fastened. We will be lifting shortly.'

After the single warning, the magcraft shivered slightly and then slid forward, gradually lifting into its hover before accelerating down the permacrete toward the east and then taking a high-angle climb to minimize sightings by Dorchan and Dhurr ships traveling the Summer Sea and the ocean beyond. I doubted many lookouts strained their eyes peering into the heavens, or would have dared report what they saw.

Except they would have seen little, I realized, because composite was nonreflective to just about any form of energy.

The almost imperceptible whining became far more perceptible as the magshuttle continued to accelerate, rising in volume and frequency until both my teeth and ears felt nearly shattered. I'd tried closing my eyes before, but I tried again -before reopening them quickly. That hot darkness was filled with fragmented images of various objects being hurled at me and recollections of trying to find Tomas in hot blindness while being continually struck.

I left my eyes open and waited until the whining died away, until I found myself being pushed forward in my harness by the force of a brief deceleration, then weightless, drifting upward against the restraints. Finally, I could hear the clunk of docking at Orbit Two.

'Smooth trip ...' came from the seat in front of me.

Null gravity didn't bother me at all now, and I glided out of the seat and toward the opening hatch - behind the black-haired Web pilot, the senior operations controller in blue, the Authority controller in black - at least I thought the Authority controllers wore black - and the medical type in red.

In the tube from the lock outside the shuttle, the black-haired Siobahna had pulled herself to the side to talk to another pilot, and I hung back, tuning up my hearing to catch what I could and letting the technicians slip past me.

'What are you here for, Erelya?'

'Lucky me ... drew training ... candidate on board ...'

'... he's in back, I think ... doesn't seem too bad ...'

'Where to for you?'

'Mithras ... the new planoforming station there.'

'Hard haul, they say ... and it's a low road ... long subjective ...'

'Someone has to... better let you get to your charge... he's holding back, either because he's polite or eavesdropping.'

'Both, I'd guess.'

I tried not to flush as the two pilots said goodbye, then I eased forward with my small duffel, using the overhead lines.

'You must be Tyndel.' The training pilot had short brown hair scarcely longer than mine, pale gray eyes that looked right through me, and a pleasant smile.

'Yes, ser.'

'You don't seem terribly upset by weightlessness. You been in null gravity before, right?'

'Yes, ser. Three years personal objective on OE Station.'

'That lets us skip the null grav fam, then, and start with the station orientation.' She gave a crisp nod and turned effortlessly and without the gross motor reactions that tended to send people sideways in null gravity.

Dragging my duffel, I followed through the tube and into a long corridor much like the lower level corridor on OE Station.

'Lower level is all cargo and maintenance,' Erelya continued without looking back at me. 'Second level is passenger entry locks. Third level is operations. Top level are residences. Ops and residence levels run at about point three grav, and that's pushing it. We stay there when we have to be on station. You hope that's not often.'

Why? Because the pseudograv is too low and because centrifugal force substitutes for gravity? It doesn't precisely replicate the physiological impacts.

'You've used a broomstick?'

'Yes, ser'

'Good. We'll start with the bug. After we suit up.' Erelya led the way around the lower and outer edge of the station - all in null gravity.

We passed a transition lock, then two cargo locks, and another transition lock. A technician in silver approached, a new technician, indicated by the not-quite-fluid movements. 'Good day, sers.'

'Good day,' Erelya answered cheerfully. I echoed her greeting.

Erelya drew herself to a halt opposite a green hatch - a dark green hatch. 'This is the lower level ready room.' She eased open the hatch and slipped inside, where, after waiting for me, she pointed to a locker - with the silver name 'Tyndel' on it. 'That's your gear. Check it out. Put on the suit and the boots. You can leave your duffel there for now.'

Except for being green, and fitted rather precisely to me, the outside suit was the same as those I'd worn on OE Station.

'You won't wear a helmet in a needle ship or a bug, but it will be racked where you can reach it easily.'

From the ready room, soft helmet in hand, I followed her - she had suited more quickly than had I - back along the cargo corridor to the closest cargo lock. In the lock was an ugly contraption - a composite-hulled, ten-meter-long oblong capsule with large canisters seemingly placed everywhere and dual exhaust jet openings front and back and on the top and bottom.

'This is your starbug,' said Erelya. 'It's a modified bug with gasjets, but the feel is similar to the ion-electrojets that needle ships use to maneuver. You'll begin to learn how to handle a ship with it.'

I'd never been in a bug before, although I'd seen them in the locks on OE Station. Up close, this one was uglier, and more battered than I would have thought.

'Get in.' The bug had a hatch rather than a true lock, and Erelya had opened it while I was still studying the craft's exterior.