I gasped, because I’d had no warning that Skipping would be like this: lying on my back on a memory of rug, a bare sketch of my Snug around me, and all of those stars. It felt like nothing separated me from the universe, and I could look at all of it at once. Somehow I could better compass the enormous length of the lunar ring, and I felt I could see more details of the dinner-plate of Earth. I even noticed tiny, brighter points that I realised must be ships or stations. So many, so much.
Dio let me gape for a while, then brought up the familiar pill-shaped outline I needed to create with lan.
[[When the Pocket is complete, I will project a small extension of the shape. You will expand the Pocket as precisely as is possible for you, and when I instruct, open the Pocket. It is important to open the Pocket exactly at the point marked, because that is your destination.]]
"What happens if I let the Pocket drop altogether instead of opening it properly?"
[[You’ll emerge in this locale—at not quite the same point, since there’ll be some drift.]]
The knowledge that an error wouldn’t be disastrous eased an inner tension. I took several long breaths, then began.
Days of lan training had at least made the process comfortably familiar. Not allowing myself to be distracted into wondering why it seemed no thicker after all my increase of strength, I sent blue mist wafting, starting up two vertical shields at the furthest ends. The hardest part was the slow spinning out of the shields toward each other. During training I’d started trying to rush this part, because maintaining the shields became an ache, but speed frayed my control, and gave a result like knitting full of dropped stitches.
I passed the point I’d reached in my Rank Five Trial, and almost lost control just thinking about that. The two shields flexed in response, but not enough that I couldn’t bring them back into shape, join them smoothly together, and feel the universe go away.
There really was a distinct sense of transition, even though the stars and planet and lunar ring remained around me. That wasn’t all that surprising, since everything I could see was probably a projection of the focus. I found it difficult to explain what felt different, noticed that my Snug seemed to be drifting rather rapidly away from the planet, and had to push self-examination aside because Dio had created an extension to the projected form, like a tiny curving finger reaching out from an overlarge hand.
That was a whole new level of difficult. While I could more-or-less lock a lan creation in place without having to continue to focus all my attention on it, I’d never tried to build out a shape from an existing completed shape. But I couldn’t just add lan on top—the Pocket had to be one whole shape.
For a long moment, my attempts did nothing at all, but then the section I was trying to change belled out while, thankfully, not breaking. It helped to think of the Pocket as glass, and my attention an imaginary heated poker exactly the shape that I needed, something that pushed without piercing. That worked very well to shift the extension of the Pocket to the exact configuration Dio projected. I paused, imagining the removal of the poker, and a moment to cool, before I snipped the very tip of the extension off.
Again I felt the shift, the sensation of difference, but this time Earth with its lunar ring disappeared and instead I was looking at a pale reddish circle, smaller than the moon is—used to be—is, from Earth. And just in time, for I was starting to feel achy, and had to drop the rest of the Pocket immediately.
Trial Successful.
Rank Six Achieved.
Reward:
[Tier 1 Consumable Pattern]
[Tier 1 Apparel Pattern]
[Tier 2 Tool Pattern]
[[Precisely on point. You’re not increasing in strength particularly quickly, but you have good control.]]
"I’ve lots of practice colouring inside the lines," I said, panting and glad that I was lying down. "Though it really would have helped to do some Skipping as a passenger before trying it as pilot."
[[Far less entertaining from my point of view, though.]]
I gave Dio a Look, then studied the projected starscape around me more thoroughly. "We’re a long way from the planet."
[[It’s important to remember that everything is moving. The planet, the system, the galaxy. The drift you experience when Skipping isn’t as drastic as a complete separation from universal momentum, but the slower a Skip is completed, the further you will emerge from the target point. Until I fully trust your Skip ability, you will always be directed to the outer limits of the planetary free zone. About a half an Earthly day’s reach via the propulsion system.]]
I sat up, and called up my [Navigation] options.
[Surface]
[Low Mars Orbit]
[Geostationary Orbit]
[Phobos]
[Deimos]
[Free Zone]
[Mars Gateway Station]
[Ya Haf Station]
[Red Planet Station]
[Ships]
Selecting [Surface] brought me up a whole stream of names, many familiar. I hesitated between [Valles Marineris] and [Olympus Mons], then made my choice.
True to Dio’s word, there was no need to go to the cockpit to pilot the ship, but when I felt equal to standing up, I went to peer out my window, just to see an actual other planet with my eyes.
25
new zone
"I wondered whether Mars might have been terraformed," I said, regarding the ever-increasing circle.
[[We rarely terraform sub-optimal planets. And it’s usually easier for Bios to wear an adapted modal rather than try to adapt a planet to a particular type of Bio. Besides, there are more than enough planets that fall into the liveable range for all but one of the major species. Transforming a low-gravity, low atmosphere planet lacking even a magnetosphere would be misplaced effort.]]
"But you can make Dyson spheres and/or ring worlds?"
[[Ring worlds are fun.]]
"Everything seems to be fun to you, Dio. Are you ever bored?"
[[Not often. I can keep myself entirely amused even locked in a box.]]
"Have you ever been locked in a box?"
[[Oh, frequently.]]
Dio didn’t sound bothered, but I recognised the tone te used when te was going to play conversational dodgeball, so I shifted back to my own situation.
"What do Bios usually do on these long, propulsion drive trips?"
[[That is a piece of string question.]]
"I suppose so." I considered logging out, but didn’t want to miss this first experience of approaching a planet, even if it was a slow creep of hours. Instead, while I was still at a distance, I took a relaxing mist shower, then scrolled through the endless list of consumables, trying to decide on my next round of food rewards.
"Dio, is there a filter for gluten-free?" I paused. "Wait…"
[[A penny drops.]]
"Will I react the same way in here that I do out in the world? Or can I just eat…anything?"
[[Some have a muted reaction when they’re aware that they’re eating an item that is usually problematic to them. But there is nothing in the consumables lists that will trigger any allergy.]]
Cinnamon rolls. How long since I’d dared their sticky sweetness? I ate two, and promptly felt sick, but from sugar overload.
I tried to dilute it all with water, while deciding on my apparel rewards and, after approximately a century in close consultation with my paper doll, opted for another coverall/jumpsuit, but this one was closefitting and black, and made me feel wonderfully futuristic when I emerged from the Soup. Then, taking my fancy tablet with me, I returned to the view.