I scrambled through the reordering of everything, and attempted to respond with a dual decel burst. I wasn't going to risk it all on one burst.
After the second burst began, my attention was on the closure and distances. Point zero-two-eight ... point zero-one-nine ... point zero-one-four ... point zero-zero-nine ...
I held my breath following the last ions from the jets, but the Hook held at five point five meters from the passenger lock. Six point one meters from the lower cargo lock. For a full standard minute that seemed far longer, I waited in silence.
'Take her back to one point eight kilometers at minus fifty.'
So I did, stabilizing the ship where Sesehna had directed.
'This time you have eleven percent, and you will bring her in for a full docking.' Sesehna paused. All the way through to full cradling and locks open.'
Yes, ser.' I pulsed Orbit Two. 'Hook commencing low-power approach to docking and cradle.'
'Understand docking and cradle, candidate.'
Affirmative, docking and cradle.'
Erelya seemed slightly more tense, and I wondered what emergency Sesehna would pull, but nothing happened while
I eased the Hook inbound, or even after the ionjets cut in to start the deceleration.
Abruptly, the entire net went dead.
Sesehna glanced at me. 'Bring her in manually, Tyndel. Full locking. You have no communications, no system.'
My fingers found the manual controls under my fingertips, and each finger felt twice its size, and slippery on the rough studs.
... point eight-seven-four ... point seven-eight-five ...
I still had my own abilities to calculate, but now I needed to factor in greater lags and sluggish responses. The first deceleration burst was late and too short, and I scrambled mentally to readjust.
... point four-one ... point three-seven-two ...
I eased in the ionjets once more, conscious of being hot and cold and sweating all at once, my eyes skipping from one manual indicator to another, far slower than assimilating the figures directly.
In the end, the thump of docking and cradling was only slightly heavier than normal, and with that impact, I had the net back. I was drenched, beaded with sweat that had welled up all over me and run nowhere, just merged into ever-larger puddles to soak through my underclothes and into my suit.
'Uncradle and take her back out - two kilometers at plus ten.'
I followed the orders and waited to see what other difficult approach the senior pilot would request. 'Execute a normal approach.'
'Yes, ser.'
I watched like an ancient hawk, waiting for another trick, another emergency, but nothing happened, and I eased the Hook into the dampers and cradled the needle without even a bump.
Then I sat in the pilot's seat and tried not to take too deep a breath.
Sesehna glided back, hooked herself down beside me, and unfastened the cutout harness. 'Open the locks. We're done.' After a minute pause, she added, 'You'll do.'
I somehow felt those two words were almost a compliment from the senior captain, and as much recognition as I'd be likely to receive.
As she slipped toward the locks that I'd begun to open, Sesehna turned to Erelya. 'Another good job.'
The senior pilot was at the lock as soon as it cracked, and gone before I even finished the shutdown checklist.
You'll do all the approaches and departures from now on,' Erelya said from beside the command console.
'What comes next?' I slowly released the harness and reclaimed my soft helmet from the locker beneath the command couch.
'The procedures for overspace insertion and exit. That will take a month or so until you know them even if half your brain is gone. Then you get a real assignment.'
67
The difference between truth and honesty is the difference between the riverbed and the river.
When I walked away from the downshuttle at Runswi, the late-afternoon sky was deep blue. Despite the sun, a breeze made the fall day seem cool, almost chilly. My mind was worrying over Erelya's parting remarks - 'Next time you come up, you'll be ready to find out if you're a needle pilot. 'Next time? Why not then? Why offer that possibility but not even schedule it firmly? Just because it depended on the availability of a needle ship? Or was there more?
The wind ruffled my hair, and I brushed it back, finally pushing away my concerns about what else it might take to become a needle jockey and thinking about the red-haired, sharp-featured, and very honest woman who'd helped me find myself. I hoped to get to Lyncol and spend some time with Cerrelle. I glanced up, hoping to see her, knowing I wouldn't because she couldn't even have known when I'd return, not when I seldom knew more than a few hours in advance.
Instead of Cerrelle, the sandy-haired Aleyaisha was waiting outside the operations building. 'Tyndel!' She beckoned.
I turned and crossed the dozen meters separating us. 'Good news or bad news?'
'No bad news.' The full lips pursed into a smile, and the brown eyes were friendly. 'You've been busy. I thought you might like some friendly company. So did Cerrelle. She's on her way to Thesalle.'
'For long?' I blurted. Thesalle ...? The green planet, the one that wasn't what it seemed, the one whose strangeness eluded measurement and quantification? Why Cerrelle?
'You're not always the controlled Dzin master, I see.' Aleyaisha's smile broadened.
'I never was. Not too much.' It had been hard to hold on to Dzin when I recalled the two children kissing in the cataclypt of Dyanar, or when I remembered having tea in the Dzin master's house in Hybra, or recalled my cruelty to Cerrelle in lashing out at her when the faults had been mine. Yet ... for all that, had I ever been a Dzin master?
Not really ... or not fully. 'Do you know what she's doing on Thesalle?'
'Cerrelle? Only generally. They want someone who wasn't born a Rykashan to help calibrate the atmospheric baseline effect ...'
'I'm not sure I like that.'
Aleyaisha gave a shake of her head, the sandy hair bobbing away from her head, showing more clearly the elfin jawline. 'Every time I see you, you've become more honest with yourself,' she said after a moment.
'It must have something to do with being a demon.'
All demons aren't as honest as you are. So I doubt that.' She inclined her head. 'Are you hungry?'
'Yes. The marsh lounge,' I suggested.
That received a nod. Her singlesuit was red this time, with silvered cuffs, and I nodded to myself as we walked along the pathway north and east of the operations building.
'Unless you want to cook,' I added, managing not to smile.
'What I cook neither of us wants to eat.'
'I'm not sure of that.'
'You would be if I cooked, Tyndel. You don't want to be that sure.' I took her word for that.
'How is the training going?' she asked after a silence as we walked up the wide stone steps to the marsh lounge.
'I'm getting close to the end, but Erelya won't - or can't - give me a definite answer as to how much longer I have before I learn whether I'll make it as a needle jockey.'
'You will.' Her voice held quiet assurance. 'I'm glad you think so. There are times I'm not so certain about that.' I held the door for her.
'Few are as hard on you as you are - now.'