Earth Flight
‘The only potential cure was to override the Handicapped immune system with an artificial whole body control system,’ said Leveque. ‘That isn’t a realistic option. An individually tailored control system would have to be developed for each person, and installed through major surgery with a suicidal risk of fatal consequences.’
Leveque was a specialist in threat assessment. When he said something was suicidally dangerous, I believed him. A few months ago, I might have thrown away my life in a desperate attempt to become human whatever the risks, but now I wouldn’t. Whatever the prejudiced thought, I didn’t need to become human. I already was human.
‘There is, however, a different answer,’ continued Leveque. ‘The Eden data shows the Handicapped immune system is only adversely affected by conditions on a small percentage of worlds. Unfortunately, the Planet First teams have been deliberately selecting colony worlds of this specific type, because they’re also worlds that experience low levels of solar storms.’
I stared at him, utterly stunned. The interference from solar storms messed up portal transmissions, so humanity chose colony worlds where solar storms were rare events, but that meant they’d been deliberately choosing worlds that would kill people like me. Nuke that!
‘The Military wish to request a modification to Planet First selection criteria,’ said Leveque. ‘This would allow us to select some colony worlds that would suffer regular portal outages due to solar storms, but would also be compatible with the Handicapped immune system.’
My grazzed brain fought to understand his ornate words. Humanity lived on twelve hundred worlds scattered across six sectors of space, and I could never go to any of them, but if they found new worlds for the Handicapped …
‘This issue is now my highest priority,’ said the General Marshal. ‘I’ve just suffered endless weeks of knowing there was a potentially hostile alien probe orbiting Earth and we had no way to evacuate the civilian population off world to safety. The aliens could still prove to be hostile, so I consider it strategically vital to have another planet where we could evacuate the Handicapped. Given Earth is our third highest populated world, I’d prefer several such planets, ideally at least one in each sector.’
A planet for the Handicapped in each sector! That wouldn’t just be good strategically, it could change everything for us. 92 per cent of parents abandoned their Handicapped babies rather than face the stigma and culture shock of moving to Earth, but if parents could just move to another world in their home sector …
‘Changing the Planet First selection criteria requires a vote of full Parliament of Planets,’ added the General Marshal, ‘so we’ll need public opinion on our side to achieve it.’
There was a sick feeling in my stomach. ‘Sir, the prejudiced will fight against this. They claim the Handicapped are less evolved than normal human beings because we can only survive on Earth. All the insults they use for us are based on that. Apes, Neanderthals, throwbacks. The moment one of the Handicapped steps on to another world and doesn’t die, it’ll prove they’re wrong. We just need worlds chosen to have the right conditions for us, exactly the same way that norms do.’
The General Marshal nodded. ‘After my recent interactions with certain members of Joint Sector High Congress Committee, I’m fully aware that we’ll face bitter opposition from those with entrenched prejudice. That’s why I came here today to meet you and Major Eklund.’
Fian and I exchanged startled glances.
‘The vast majority of people have never visited Earth,’ continued the General Marshal, ‘so they’ve never met one of the Handicapped in person. They’d never even seen one of the Handicapped on the vids until General Torrek and I decided to put you into the public spotlight. Now the whole of humanity has not only seen one of the Handicapped on the newzies, but is taking a personal interest in her relationship with a normal born human.’
The General Marshal paused for a moment. ‘The incident with the skunk juice was obviously deeply regrettable, but it generated a huge wave of public sympathy for what the newzies have been describing as two star-crossed lovers. Psych Division felt we could build on this situation to generate the public support needed to get the Planet First changes approved. They released a vid clip of you two kissing so they could study the public reaction.’
I gasped. ‘So that was how the newzies got that clip!’
‘You are on record as having said you’d do anything to help Earth, anything at all, Commander,’ said Colonel Stone. ‘Psych Division assumed that statement was still valid.’
‘Well, it’s valid for me, sir, but …’ I glanced at Fian.
‘It’s valid for me too, sir,’ said Fian. ‘I have a recurring nightmare where I’m forcibly dragged through a portal to safety, while Jarra is left on an Earth being attacked by aliens. We must get these new worlds for the Handicapped.’
‘Excellent,’ said the General Marshal. ‘Psych Division report the vid of you kissing heightened hostility in a small minority of people, but increased sympathy in the rest. The news of the bombing strengthened that sympathy, especially when we released vid images of the blast scene. Psych Division feel a romantic betrothal will bring public support for the Handicapped to a peak, so I’m preparing to approach Parliament of Planets immediately after your betrothal ceremony. If the vote fails, but there’s sufficient support in one particular sector, we would still have a chance of getting that sector to request a planet under the specialist world rules.’
‘The specialist world rules,’ I repeated. ‘You mean like Winter in Gamma sector, sir? They requested a planet much colder than Planet First rules normally allow, to be used for some manufacturing work.’
‘Exactly,’ said the General Marshal. ‘Any sector has the right to request specialist planets within its own territory.’
I felt there was just one flaw in this plan, and that was me. ‘Sir, I’ve never been good at being romantic, especially in public.’
I heard a smothered laugh from Fian, but the General Marshal’s expression was perfectly serious as he replied. ‘You now have the perfect opportunity to work on that, Commander. I’ve been advised that you have a childhood history of impulsive actions and emotional outbursts, beginning as a 2-year-old when you locked a nurse in a store room, so it would be unwise to allow you to give any live interviews.’
The General Marshal knew about me locking evil Nurse Cass in the linen store room! How the chaos could …? I remembered Candace innocently chatting to Leveque and cringed.
‘There is, however, no risk with pre-recorded vid statements,’ continued the General Marshal. ‘Commander Tell Dramis is returning from Zeta sector to assist in making a vid statement from your clan, where you and Major Eklund will talk about your impending betrothal and how much you love each other. I’m pleased to see that Major Eklund’s skin condition has been completely cured. Psych Division felt that spots would spoil the romantic effect.’
At another time, I would have giggled at the appalled expression on Fian’s face as the General Marshal mentioned his spots, but I was too busy with my own worries.
‘But … I won’t know what to say.’
‘That’s not a problem,’ said the General Marshal. ‘Psych Division are writing you a script.’
14
‘You’ll be pleased to hear the vid is being shown on newzie channels in every sector,’ said Drago.
I groaned. The previous day had been a ghastly ordeal, with vid bees mercilessly recording my struggles to say romantic lines about my enduring heartfelt love for Fian. To make matters worse, Fian seemed to be hugely enjoying the whole thing, and the vid technicians kept telling him he was a natural vid star.
‘I was dreadful,’ I said.
‘Psych Division felt you looked endearingly shy,’ said Drago.
I groaned again. I’m not the sort of person who wants to look endearingly shy.
‘My father’s seen it,’ said Fian happily. ‘He’s sent me three furious messages.’
‘Things aren’t getting any better between you two then?’ asked Drago.
Fian shook his head. ‘My father thinks he can just order me to do whatever he wants.’
‘My father thinks that about me too.’ Drago laughed. ‘Mind you, he’s not just on clan council, but a General as well, so most of the time he’s right.’
‘I bet your father doesn’t make the sort of remarks about Marlise that mine makes about Jarra,’ said Fian.
‘Mother would never allow father to be rude about Marlise,’ said Drago. ‘Mother thinks Marlise is a good influence on me.’
‘Your mother is a General too?’ I asked.
Drago shook his head. ‘Mother’s a civilian, so she outranks all of us.’
The three of us were standing in the middle of the base’s newly added Flight Simulation area, facing two of the bulky grey simulators. Raven was on guard duty over by the door, being unnervingly silent and respectful because Drago was here.
‘Jarra seemed to find yesterday very stressful,’ said Drago, ‘so I thought we’d take a break before the ceremony rehearsals tomorrow and have fun with some flight simulation programmes. I know you’ve only handled an aircraft in midair, Fian, so I’ll help you try some take-offs and landings.’
Fian shook his head. ‘I’d rather not. They scare the chaos out of me.’
Drago laughed. ‘I’m not surprised. I’ve seen Jarra taking off in a survey plane, and the way she hammered the thrusters terrified me.’
I blushed. ‘I know I don’t need to hit them so hard, but …’
Drago pulled a sympathetic face. ‘I understand, Jarra. You were dreaming of launching yourself to the stars, like the rockets of the ancient space programme.’
His words gave me an idea. ‘Leveque said the Handicapped need worlds that have solar storms like Earth. Maybe that means what’s important for us isn’t to do with the planet at all but the star it orbits.’
Drago shrugged. ‘Possibly.’
‘In which case, Drago, it could be perfectly safe for you to give me a ride in your fighter up into orbit.’
‘I’ve told you before that rides in my fighter are totally out of the question.’ Drago shuddered. ‘General Torrek wouldn’t just demote me if anything happened to you; he’d make me spend the rest of my life as a supply clerk.’
Drago set the controls on both flight simulators, then he and Fian vanished inside one of them. I sighed and climbed into the other. When I sat in one of the two front seats, holos immediately appeared, and I stared round in confusion. Behind me were rows of holo-generated seats filled with figures in Military impact suits. What the chaos sort of Military ship was this supposed to be? It looked huge, much bigger than the real flight simulator, and surely too big to fit through any portal.
A voice spoke from my control panel. ‘Solar 1, you are clear to launch when ready.’
Solar 1! Now I understood what the holos were showing. This was a solar array transport ship, which would be sent through a portal in pieces and assembled in space at its destination. They were normally used to move sections of solar array into position, but this one had been converted to carry passengers.
This simulation was recreating what happened months ago, when the crews of Earth’s five solar arrays were trapped in space by a solar super storm bringing down the portal network. They’d had to convert ships only designed to operate in space, to attempt to enter Earth’s atmosphere and land.
I faced forward again and saw the inside of a vast hangar. This ship had no hovers, so I cautiously used thrusters on minimum to manoeuvre out of the open doors, and gasped at the view outside. Bright dots of stars were scattered across the blackness of space, and Earth startled me by hanging overhead rather than below me, apparently on fire with the lurid bright green flames of the aurora caused by the super storm.
I used the mix of real and holo controls in front of me to project the white line of my optimal course on my main display screen, then spoke. ‘Solar 1 is launching.’
‘Deity aid you, Solar 1.’ The voice from my control panel was distorted by static and heavy with emotion. The recorded voice of an officer on far away Adonis, who was agonizingly aware the seventy people aboard Solar 1 were probably going to die.
I hit my thrusters and chased a flashing dot on my main display that showed my ideal speed and position. The burning green planet Earth gradually drifted, so it was first to my side and then below me. I couldn’t see any landmarks as I skimmed above the glowing emerald aurora, or even tell if it was night or day down there.
The dot vanished, replaced by a white image of a ship with lines running across it. Words flashed an urgent red. ‘Correct entry angle! Correct entry angle!’
I played with the thrusters, and brought the nose of my ship down. The flashing words changed to amber before vanishing. I was at the correct angle for atmospheric entry, my shields were set to maximum, so now I could only hold my breath and hope.
As I entered Earth’s atmosphere, a crazy juddering started. I fought with the controls, trying to keep my ship at the correct angle, aware of flashing red warnings about shield temperatures. Those suddenly vanished, meaning we’d survived re-entry, but I had a new problem. My thrusters were hiccupping madly, either affected by the solar super storm or just struggling with being in atmosphere and a gravity well. I was dropping like a rock.
I instinctively hammered the thrusters to maximum, and checked the white guideline on my screen. Chaos take it, I was too low, much too low. There was green and pink fire overhead, and dark ground below me. Off to the right, was something bright that looked more like the lights of a settlement than a random fire started by the super storm. I mustn’t crash on a settlement and kill civilians.
I wasn’t gaining height, but I was losing it less rapidly than the flashing dot on the white line. In a few more seconds, I’d have matched it, but the ground was too close now. I instinctively lifted my knees, hugging them with my arms to make myself into a ball. There was a single vicious jerk and the simulation cut out.
‘80 per cent,’ said an automated voice. ‘You have landed with nine passenger injuries and no deaths.’
I sat up straight and tried to calm my breathing. I hadn’t expected a simulation to feel so real. I’d scored 20 per cent less than the real landing, but I’d never flown anything like … On the other hand, the original pilot wouldn’t have flown anything like this either. Ships never went through atmospheric re-entry, they just portalled directly into a planet’s atmosphere.
I was startled by the holos starting up again and a voice speaking. ‘Solar 2, you are clear to launch when ready.’
Drago must have set the simulator to throw all five of the flights at me. Nuke him! I pulled myself together and prepared for my second launch. I knew what I was doing this time, so I did pretty well with the Solar 2 flight, but then came Solar 3. I knew its thrusters had been affected by the solar super storm, cutting out entirely just as it was about to land. Two people, including the pilot, had died.
All through the flight, I tried to plan for the landing, but it was useless. The ship was tumbling helplessly as it hit the ground, and the holo images around me flashed red before cutting out. That meant I’d died in the crash.
‘71 per cent,’ said the automated voice. ‘You have landed with fifty-seven passenger injuries and four deaths.’
Solar 4 seemed easy in comparison, and I actually scored 2 per cent higher than the real landing, but then came Solar 5. My launch had been delayed because they hadn’t finished converting the ship in time, and I came through the atmosphere far out of position for my intended landing site. I saw the black mass of the New York ruins ahead, just the way it had happened on the real Solar 5 landing. My best options were to land on the flatter area of the New York Fringe Dig Site, or try to reach the river or the coast.
I couldn’t manage any of those. I was too high to hit New York Fringe, too low to reach the coast, and there were too many skyscrapers between me and the river. I managed t
o swerve and miss one jagged, skeletal giant of the past, but three more loomed directly ahead. I could only aim for the ground between two of them.
‘93 per cent,’ said the automated voice. ‘You have landed with twenty-six passenger injuries and no deaths, but your ship is buried in rubble.’
‘I tried to reach the river and failed as well,’ said General Torrek’s voice.
I turned, startled, and saw him standing at the entrance to the flight simulator. General Torrek had been the original pilot of Solar 5. I wondered what he thought of my amateur efforts to copy his landing.
‘Can you come out please, Commander?’ he said.
‘Yes, sir.’ I went across to the entrance, jumped down, and frowned as I saw the look on General Torrek’s face. Something was obviously wrong. Fian and Drago were standing waiting next to Colonel Leveque and Colonel Stone. Fian’s puzzled expression told me he didn’t know what was going on either.
‘Major Eklund,’ said Colonel Leveque, ‘are you aware your great-grandfather was a member of an organization sometimes referred to as Cioni’s Apprentices, which was involved in several breaches of the protection of humanity laws?’
Fian stared at him. ‘This is about my great-grandfather? Yes, I knew he was a member, sir. You knew it too. We had a conversation about him the day Jarra and I joined the Alien Contact programme.’
Leveque nodded. ‘Have you had any involvement with this organization yourself?’
Fian gave a bewildered shake of his head. ‘No. How could I? It doesn’t exist any longer.’
Leveque glanced down at a small object in his hand. ‘There is a 98 per cent probability that Major Eklund is telling the truth.’
‘Of course I’m telling the truth,’ said Fian. ‘Why are you asking these questions?’
‘Because an Interplanetary Crime Unit in Beta sector has reopened your great-grandfather’s case, and ordered your arrest for formal questioning,’ said Colonel Stone in a grimly angry voice. ‘They claim it’s purely coincidental they’re doing this just before the Tell clan ceremony.’