《Flight of the Fallen Star》 Chapter 1 A dark mass had suddenly appeared behind the shuttle¡¯s porthole, gradually covering the Earth, brightly illuminated by the Sun. James looked out of the porthole and gasped in surprise involuntarily. He knew an impulse-powered spacecraft would have to be larger than any other interplanetary craft, but he could not imagine such a giant. According to the brief description James picked up from the Space Force website, having got the assignment, Military Space Vessel Endurance was about 150 metres long and had 11 decks. He could not recall anything more and was already reaching into his pocket for his communicator when he suddenly heard the pilot¡¯s voice. ¡®Hey, what about weightlessness?¡¯ James wondered why the pilot suddenly broke the silence by talking to him. During the more than five-hour flight, they had not exchanged a single word. This young man looked in his early twenties with a second lieutenant¡¯s bar on the collar of his flight suit turned unfriendly immediately when he saw James for the first time at the Space Force ground base. He became angry after finding out he only had to take one passenger. The order signed by the Chief of the Military Transportation Service finally forced him to turn anger into mercy and allow James to board. However, James could hear his displeased grumbling from time to time during the flight. ¡®Weightlessness?¡¯ he echoed, not understanding what the pilot was trying to say. ¡®I¡¯m gonna turn off the artificial gravity system for a while,¡¯ said the pilot. ¡®We have to let the commander through.¡¯ ¡®Sorry?¡¯ ¡®The commander¡¯s shuttle is coming,¡¯ the pilot said suggestively. ¡®Well, what about weightlessness? I don¡¯t wanna clean up your vomit.¡¯ James caught the pilot¡¯s hint. ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ said he with a chuckle, ¡®you won¡¯t have to.¡¯ From the expression on the pilot¡¯s face, it could have been assumed that he did not like James¡¯s tone, but he said nothing and turned back to the control panel. James was tempted to unstrap himself from his seat even though there was almost nowhere to float weightlessly inside the small shuttle¡¯s cockpit, designed for only three passengers and a pilot. The instruction plaque near the entrance airlock in capital letters required all passengers and pilots to keep their seatbelts fastened throughout the flight, which James knew without the plaque. His Pilot¡¯s Certificate was in his backpack. The document was old-fashioned, in paper form, and his name was written by hand in old styles of fonts that had been used two or more hundred years ago. He was trained to pilot a fighter-interceptor craft; however, the certificate gave him the right to control any craft up to a certain mass, including a shuttle like this one. James was sure he could bring it into the hangar of a spacecraft much smaller than the one still floating outside the porthole and seemed to have no end. A signal from the control panel drew his attention. The pilot had switched off the artificial gravity system as promised. James suddenly felt weightless. Being unfastened to his chair, he could have flown to the ceiling. ¡®Hmm¡­ I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re stuck here for an hour at least,¡¯ the pilot broke the silence again. ¡®Two shuttles can¡¯t come in at the same time.¡¯ ¡®We were taught to land in pairs,¡¯ said James. ¡®Your fighters are more manoeuvrable¡­¡¯ James thought he heard a hint of envy in the pilot¡¯s voice. ¡®¡­and land on F Deck, over a hundred metres long. Our hangar on D Deck is narrow, only thirty metres long. Don¡¯t catch an arresting gear in time ¨C bam into a bulkhead. Anyway, we have to give them a way¡­¡¯ The pilot pointed to the opposite porthole. ¡®They¡¯re oncoming and would cross our trajectory.¡¯ James unfastened his seatbelts and, rising above his chair, floated up to the porthole, through which he could see a shuttlecraft, a bit larger than the one he was in, slowly approaching. Quite elegant in form, the shuttlecraft was capable of flying in space and in the atmosphere. Suddenly, the pilot raised his eyebrows. ¡®Uh oh¡­¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ James inquired, wondering what could have caused such a reaction. The young man shook his head. ¡®Looks like it may take more than an hour,¡¯ said he, staring out the porthole with a pensive expression. ¡®They used the shortest trajectory, so¡­ they should now synchronise their speed and orbit to catch the signal from the Hangar Landing System¡­¡¯ ¡®Big deal,¡¯ James snorted. ¡®They can start the port manoeuvring thrusters at quarter power at a sixty-degree angle for a few seconds to climb, then dampen the impulse with the starboard thruster, inertia getting them into the hangar by itself. The pilot¡¯s thoughtful face twisted into a scornful grin. ¡®There are the rules of orbital mechanics,¡¯ he said in a teacher¡¯s tone, ¡®which may seem counter-intuitive, but which you can¡¯t fight.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not suggesting you fight the rules of orbital mechanics,¡¯ James shot back. ¡®I propose to use those rules.¡¯ The pilot snorted contemptuously. ¡®How did you get so smart?¡¯ ¡®Graduated No 1 Space Force Flying School.¡¯ James grinned. ¡®Any more questions?¡¯ ¡®Get back to your seat,¡¯ the pilot grumbled back. ¡®C¡¯mon.¡¯ ¡®Rules are rules!¡¯ ¡®Yah? Who ignored almost half the pre-flight checks, eh?¡¯ The pilot seemed slightly embarrassed. He opened his mouth but said nothing, staring out of the porthole. A bright flash flickered from the port side of the commander¡¯s shuttle and faded almost instantly. The manoeuvring thruster fired a jet of red-hot plasma. The shuttle changed its trajectory and disappeared from sight. James shifted his gaze to the opposite porthole, the pilot, too. The shuttle appeared behind the porthole for a few seconds before disappearing again, hidden by the spacecraft¡¯s massive hull. The pilot shook his head and looked at James in surprise. ¡®Looks like the commander pilots it himself,¡¯ he said after a short pause, even with a note of admiration in his voice. ¡®What a fantastic manoeuvre! He¡¯s really a natural pilot.¡¯ ¡®Really?¡¯ ¡®You bet! Colonel Garneau led the first mission out of the Solar System. Well, not really out, of course, I mean ¨C¡¯ ¡®Pathfinder?¡¯ James said questioningly. ¡®I thought the first spacecraft to enter interstellar space was ¨C¡¯ ¡®A probe?¡¯ the pilot questioned back. ¡®Yeah, but I mean the first crewed mission. Of course, the Pathfinder¡¯s engine system could only support a quarter impulse for a short time. They needed over two years to reach the edge of the Solar System. Now, full impulse isn¡¯t considered a limit.¡¯ ¡®In a theory,¡¯ said James, recalling a scientific publication on the Space Force web, of which he, if to be honest, understood almost nothing.¡¯ ¡®Yeah,¡¯ the pilot agreed, ¡®but there was a time when the impulse drive itself was considered pure theory. Our spacecraft¡¯s engines can only support full impulse within forty-eight hours, which for Vanguard, currently under construction, is a standard regime. Going by rumours, our commander would be transferred to Vanguard, but he flatly refused.¡¯ ¡®Why?¡¯ ¡®Huh! Who wanna stay behind the lines for a year more? I ¨C¡¯ A signal from the control panel interrupted the pilot in mid-sentence, and a woman¡¯s voice came over the loudspeaker, ¡®Shuttle 2, this is Endurance. Cleared approach to hangar D. Over.¡¯ The pilot turned back to the panel. ¡®Roger, Endurance. Hangar D. Shuttle 2, out.¡¯ Turning back to James, he waved his hands as if he had fastened the seat belts. James took the hint and swam back to his seat. The spacecraft¡¯s hull had gone a bit down. Behind the porthole, the already open hangar gateway appeared, brightly illuminated by powerful searchlights on both sides. James did not feel the moment of landing. It seemed to him that only a second after the shuttle had entered the hangar, it was already standing on the deck, unmoving. The pilot turned to him. ¡®That¡¯s all, we¡¯re home,¡¯ he said and suddenly added, holding out his hand, ¡®I¡¯m Max, by the way.¡¯ ¡®Max means Maximilian?¡¯ James shook the pilot¡¯s hand. ¡®Max means Max,¡¯ he chuckled. ¡®Got it, I¡¯m James.¡¯ ¡®Where are you from?¡¯ ¡®Bangor.¡¯ ¡®Is that somewhere in¡­¡¯ Max raised his eyebrows questioningly, ¡®¡­Maine?¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s somewhere in Wales.¡¯ James wondered what could have caused such a change in the lad¡¯s behaviour. Could it be the commander¡¯s manoeuvre he had predicted? ¡®I see,¡¯ Max nodded. ¡®And what the hell brings you to the Space Force?¡¯ James waved his hand. ¡®It¡¯s a long story.¡¯ ¡®No, I mean, how did they recruit you to¡­ um ¨C¡¯ Max continued and suddenly stopped. James thought he had guessed what was going on. ¡®Go on, don¡¯t be shy,¡¯ he grinned. ¡®Actually, it¡¯s legal under British law: from the age of 17 with parental consent. Speaking frankly, nobody gave me that one, but as you can guess, it¡¯s not too hard to forge a piece of paper. By the way, anyone can join the Space Force now. There are not so many volunteers who are good for spaceflight.¡¯ ¡®I know,¡¯ Max nodded and took a deep breath. ¡®So I can¡¯t understand why we¡¯re not being recruited.¡¯ ¡®Spacecraft need pilots too.¡¯ ¡®They told me the same thing.¡¯ Max sighed again. ¡®I¡¯ve asked to be sent to tactical training twice already. Zero. We had no military training at uni.¡¯ ¡®Hmm¡­ you¡¯re a commissioned officer,¡¯ James said in surprise, flicking his fingers at the collar of his flight suit. Max didn¡¯t seem to catch on immediately, and then he nodded. ¡®Yeah, but it¡¯s just a formality,¡¯ he grimaced. ¡®They told us again and again, ¡°We¡¯re explorers, not soldiers¡±¡­ Damn!¡¯ He banged his fist on the control panel. ¡®You think these aliens attacked us because we¡¯ve gone too deep into space?¡¯ said James. Max shrugged his shoulders. ¡®Who knows? We don¡¯t even know what they look like.¡¯ ¡®Looks like humanoids.¡¯ Max shrugged again and spread his arms. ¡®That was assumed when something resembling a pilot¡¯s chair was found in the wreckage after the Lunar Orbiter was attacked, but there was no body or organic remains.¡¯ ¡®It might¡¯ve been a drone.¡¯ Max snorted. ¡®Guess what kinda comms system it takes to control a drone at such a distance.¡¯ ¡®Autonomous drones have been used since the beginning of the last century,¡¯ said James. ¡®I don¡¯t mention probes like Voyager and so on.¡¯ ¡®Yeah¡­¡¯ Max nodded in agreement, ¡®but autonomous drones used near the Earth surfaces, where are the GPS or other satellite navigation systems, or at least visual reference points. As for the first deep space mission probes, all of them were controlled from Earth in reality.¡¯ ¡®An artificial intelligence ¨C¡¯ James tried to argue. Max snorted again.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡®Any artificial intelligence also requires control,¡¯ he said. ¡®Logically,¡¯ James agreed. ¡®The joint command tried to use such sorta intellectual drones at the first stage of the war, but very soon it became clear that this was not working.¡¯ Max raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡®Did they tell you that at your Flying School?¡¯ James nodded. ¡®¡­Well, it wasn¡¯t quite so,¡¯ the pilot went on, smiling, ¡®though it¡¯s a long story, and maybe you¡¯re right; I mean about a drone. Certainly, the alien¡¯s technologies are much more advanced than ours, so their artificial intelligence could be more intellectual.¡¯ A green light flashed on the rear bulkhead of the hangar. Max unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of his seat. ¡®Well, we can go out,¡¯ he said, adding after a short pause, ¡®Just don¡¯t tell anyone about the pre-flight check, please.¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t worry about that,¡¯ said James, pulling his backpack off the overhead rack. There was nobody outside in the hangar, and nobody met him. A couple of the spacecraft¡¯s crewmembers only came out from the airlock, going toward the shuttlecraft. James hoped that someone from the Space Force personnel would meet him and wondered why nobody appeared. Max patted him on his shoulder. ¡®Well, I have to go. Wanna chat, drop in on me. I¡¯m on C Deck, corridor 5, cabin 05-21. By the way, do you play poker?¡¯ ¡®Not so good.¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter, this isn¡¯t Vegas. We¡¯re all so-so players, except Wilson, of course.¡¯ ¡®Huh?¡¯ ¡®Deputy Mission Commander. He¡¯s a fan and even took part in a celebrity poker tournament.¡¯ ¡®Is he a celebrity?¡¯ Max chuckled, ¡®Uh-huh, in some sense. Well, I have to go: the post-flight report and other crap. See you.¡¯ He waved his hand, turned and headed for the airlock. James followed him, still wondering why no one had met him, and left him to find the location of No 617 Space Force Squadron himself. Judging by the size of the spacecraft, it could not be so easy. The corridor where he found himself passing through the airlock looked empty. Taking a few steps along the corridor, James stopped in utter confusion. There was a branching from which the corridor continued in two directions. But James saw no directional sign to help him find a lift or a companionway, and nobody was around to ask. Half a minute later, a figure wearing the Space Agency uniform appeared at the end of the corridor but disappeared around a corner. James pulled out his communicator, but the description was no help. He only found technical data, 3D exteriors, and pictures of some rooms, but not the most important thing at that moment ¨C the deck plans. ¡®Are you looking for something, young man?¡¯ A man¡¯s voice reached him. He turned around and saw a tall man standing a couple of paces away from him. The man looked over fifty, and his head was completely bald. He was dressed in civilian, but the tone of his voice and manner suggested that he was a senior officer. James even straightened up mechanically. ¡®Yes, sir ¨C¡¯ he started but stopped. ¡®As I can see, you¡¯re one of the Space Force personnel,¡¯ the man continued, filling the pause. James nodded silently. ¡®¡­Squadron No 617, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ ¡®Yes, it is, sir.¡¯ ¡®G Deck. Follow this corridor to the next bend, where you¡¯ll see the companionway. Then go down and find what you¡¯re looking for.¡¯ ¡®Thank you, sir.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re welcome.¡¯ The bald nodded and continued his way, stopped after a couple of steps and turned back to James. ¡®Excuse me, young man, how old are you?¡¯ ¡®Eighteen, sir¡­¡¯ James mentally noted that he no longer needed to add ¡®soon¡¯. He turned eighteen three weeks ago. ¡®Anything else, sir?¡¯ he added, immediately realising that he should not have said it. The bald, however, responded only with a barely noticeable smile and shook his head. ¡®Nothing. Remember where to go?¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ Nodded again, the bald turned and walked along the corridor. James looked after him for a while, thinking: could this man be the poker fan Wilson, whom the pilot named Max had mentioned and then moved in the indicated direction ¡­ ¡­ ¡®Astronaut First Class Jenkins reporting as ordered¡­ um¡­ sir ¨C¡¯ He stammered at the very last moment. First of all, he was a bit out of breath. Despite an unknown officer¡¯s help, he had to wander through the long and tangled spacecraft¡¯s corridors for around twenty minutes until he found the Squadron on-duty officer who pointed him to the right place. Secondly, he had no idea how to address the woman with the flight sergeant¡¯s rank insignia on her uniform standing in front of him. According to the Space Force Regulations, senior staff must always be addressed as ¡®sir¡¯ regardless of gender. But not all women he had to face at his Flying School accepted such a style. The Impulse Movement Theory teacher asked to be addressed ¡®Mrs Hastings¡¯. However, she did not belong to the Space Force, being just a university lecturer. His hesitation passed unnoticed, but the Flight Sergeant¡¯s gaze was not friendly. ¡®You should have been here half an hour ago,¡¯ said she sternly. ¡®As far as I knew, you arrived on board about that time.¡¯ ¡®I beg your pardon, sir¡­¡¯ James decided to keep to the rules. ¡®¡­I¡­ um¡­ I got lost¡­ sir¡­¡¯ ¡®Understood,¡¯ the Flight Sergeant uttered in the same tone. ¡®You¡¯re forgiven for the first time, but only for the first time. The sleeping quarters you find behind the next airlock. Your bunk ¨C¡¯ she leaned over to her table, picked up one of the tablets, and began scrolling through the records on the screen, not looking at James. ¡®¡­number 6. The daily schedule is simple: reveille at 06.00, lights out ¨C at 22.00. Hygienic facilities are further down the corridor, the junior staff mess on the deck above, the hangars on the deck below. All the other places shouldn¡¯t interest you, and you don¡¯t need them, so don¡¯t tax those few brain convolutions that helped you to get the Astronaut First Class rank. I¡¯d only give you the second class. An Astronaut First Class should be able to find a way around the Solar System better than in his bedroom, but you¡¯ve succeeded in getting lost in a spacecraft. Dismissed.¡¯ James paid no heed to this long tirade but the last word. Navigation was one of two courses he passed with the highest mark, unlike the Impulse Movement Theory. Despite all Mrs Hastings¡¯s efforts, it remained Greek to him. Of course, the Flight Sergeant could not have known about this. Unlikely, she studied all pilots¡¯ personnel files so attentively. However, as he thought, leaving the Flight Sergeant¡¯s office, such a cold shoulder did not augur well. These thoughts distracted him a little; he missed a doorstep and almost fell, only at the last moment grabbing onto some pipe on the bulkhead. The sleeping quarters looked about seven metres long and four metres wide. Near the entrance hatch, James noticed several lockers, apparently for storing clothes. Behind them, rows of bunk beds stretched along both side bulkheads. A long, narrow table, with an intercom display above, stood between them. A row of armchairs with seat belts for the crew for the time of acceleration mode was seen in the depths along the back bulkhead. His soon-to-be roommates ¨C there were a total of twelve beds in the sleeping quarters ¨C had already brightened up the interior a bit with their belongings, but it still felt like it had not been a living area before. He heard that in a spacecraft like this one, even junior crew members lived in four-berth cabins. Probably, it was a part of a cargo bay or something like that, hurriedly converted to quarters for pilots to whom such comfort was not granted. This was not much different from his Training School barrack; just a lot of cables and pipes stretched across the ceiling and yellow-painted handrails designed to facilitate movement in case the artificial gravity system broke or switched off, reminded that it was a spacecraft. The bunk designated him was the last in the row, next to the back bulkhead, a fact he mentally noted as an advantage. An even number meant he would have to sleep on the upper level, which did not bother him at all. He had already put his backpack on the bunk, wondering if it was worth unpacking it right now, when he felt someone patted him on the shoulder. ¡®Hi!¡¯ James turned around. A lad about his age, just a bit taller, stood behind him. His slightly reddish hair ¨C cut short at the temples and at the nape of his neck ¨C stuck out over his forehead like the bristles of a brush. To maintain such a hairstyle, an ordinary comb was not enough. It needed a special gel, which cost a lot. James did not even know how much. His hair was not suitable for such a hairstyle. He had tried it once but without any success. He was not a follower of fashion in that sense. When shaved heads became popular for a while, he almost decided to shave his head, but he was afraid that his hair would not grow back. His grandmother said there was a category of men who were terrified of going bald. He seemed to be in that category. His new fellow, however, obviously paid a lot of attention to himself. James even wondered what this lad was doing showing off like that for. The stern Flight Sergeant was the only woman he had seen on board. ¡®¡­It seems you¡¯re my new neighby,¡¯ the lad continued, smiling broadly. ¡®I¡¯m Steve. Steve Wolverton.¡¯ ¡®James Jenkins and it seems that way if it¡¯s your bunk.¡¯ ¡®Gimme five!¡¯ said the lad, holding his hand out. ¡®By the way, if you wanna have dinner tonight, move to the messroom right now.¡¯ ¡®Right now?¡¯ asked James, shaking Steve¡¯s hand. ¡®On-board time¡­¡¯ Steve nodded at the intercom display, which James only now noticed showed time in standby mode, ¡®corresponds to UTC, where it is now 18.20¡­¡¯ James thought that might be true. He had left the ground base at around 11am, local time, which was the same as Coordinated Universal Time. He had only assumed that the spacecraft used Houston time, where the space agency and the headquarters of the Joint Space Command were located. ¡®¡­It was the first that Flight Sergeant Rowling explained to me,¡¯ Steve continued. ¡®Have you already seen her?¡¯ James nodded. ¡®¡­A rare bitch, keep in mind,¡¯ said Steve. ¡®Reprimanded me at once when I asked where the main command centre is.¡¯ ¡®She made it clear that I shouldn¡¯t even think about it.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh,¡¯ Steve nodded in agreement, ¡®as if we¡¯re just passengers here. Don¡¯t think I¡¯m against discipline, not at all. My dad was a soldier, so I¡¯m used to it, you could say, since childhood. The Sergeant at our Flying School was a stern man too, but he never wasted time on trifles. If he punished us, it was for a case. But this dumb cunt hangs on every word. Lewis asked why there were no separate shower cabins and she said ¨C¡¯ ¡®Not enough space?¡¯ ¡®Enough. Rowling said¡­¡¯ Steve giggled, ¡®this is, you see, a shower room, not a parlour for masturbation.¡¯ ¡®Did she really say so?¡¯ ¡®She did.¡¯ Steve giggled again. ¡®I see you all have a lot of fun here,¡¯ James grinned. ¡®Yep, more fun doesn¡¯t happen,¡¯ Steve reacted similarly. ¡®Have you already seen the commander?¡¯ ¡®Wing Commander Burton?¡¯ ¡®Huh, he¡¯s as unreachable for us as the main command centre. I mean Junkie.¡¯ ¡®Junkie?¡¯ ¡®The section commander, Flight Lieutenant Jennings. Boys call him Junkie.¡¯ ¡®You mean¡­¡¯ Steve shrugged. ¡®Actually, I don¡¯t think so, but his eyes look as if he is stoned.¡¯ ¡®I haven¡¯t seen him yet. I boarded just an hour ago and got lost in these corridors.¡¯ ¡®Nothing wonders,¡¯ said Steve with a chuckle. ¡®I¡¯m still floundering here.¡¯ ¡®How long are you here?¡¯ ¡®Three days. I mean ¨C the concept of day-night¡­¡¯ ¡®Yeah, like in the training spacecraft. Which school have you finished?¡¯ ¡®No 1. And you?¡¯ ¡®No 3.¡¯ ¡®Where is it?¡¯ ¡®Next to the Officers¡¯ College. But we weren¡¯t allowed on the College grounds.¡¯ ¡®Really? Why so?¡¯ ¡®No idea. Why aren¡¯t we allowed anywhere but these two decks and hangars?¡¯ James did not find what to say, so he said nothing. ¡®¡­Treat us like I dunno whom, even though we¡¯re pilots¡­¡¯ Steve pointed to the pilot¡¯s wings on his flight suit not without pride. Since man first took to the air, the pilot¡¯s badge remained the same. Spacecraft crew members who had the appropriate qualifications wore similar badges. ¡®Yep,¡¯ James chuckled, ¡®drones pilots.¡¯ Steve slightly twisted his face. ¡®I guess we wouldn¡¯t be here if these artificial bits of intelligence could manage all the systems without us,¡¯ said he. ¡®So, since we¡¯re here, it means we¡¯re needed. And with all this, they still require¡­¡¯ He twisted his face again and continued, ¡®One newbie turned out to have high blood pressure or something like that, so they sent him back. He nearly cried. His parents were killed on the Lunar Orbiter.¡¯ James nodded. ¡®I see¡­ that explains why I was sent here.¡¯ ¡®Huh?¡¯ ¡®Well, I was assigned to 207 Squadron. I already got a travel order. And then bang, they change everything and send me to get all those documents again.¡¯ Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡®You¡¯re an Astronaut First Class,¡¯ he flicked his fingers at the patch on James¡¯s flight suit sleeve ¨C Astronauts Second Class had no rank insignia ¨C ¡®could have chosen any squadron.¡¯ ¡®Nope. I was assigned this rank, how shall I put it, as an exception.¡¯ ¡®By backstairs influence?¡¯ Steve grinned. ¡®You may not believe it, but something like that,¡¯ James grinned back. ¡®As you know, the rank of Astronaut First Class is usually designated to the three of a group who scored the highest total score. But none of our top trio had the highest score for piloting. I was fourth on the list, but I had the highest score in piloting. So they promoted me so that at least one of the top ones had the highest score in piloting. Funny, eh?¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s funny?¡¯ ¡®Well, the war¡¯s going on, but they¡¯re worried about¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­¡¯ ¡®Bureaucracy,¡¯ Steve chuckled. ¡®They also have to report to their bosses. By the way, don¡¯t forget about the dinner. Just half an hour left. Stomp to the mess, or you shall starve until the next morning.¡¯ ¡®And you?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m on extra duty¡­¡¯ Steve showed a red band on his flight suit¡¯s sleeve, and his face twisted slightly ¡®¡­fucking Rowling!¡¯ James headed for the junior staff mess, located one deck above, where he had to argue a little with the artificial intelligence that controlled the meal distribution before he was served a ruthlessly overcooked cutlet of synthetic meat and potatoes, also of hardly natural origin. At the table, he met two more of his new fellows. Lewis Blackwood was the same age as James, Kevin Stoddard a little older, and both had come on board the day before. He had not had time to finish his meal when an unfamiliar voice over the intercom called him to the Section commander. He had to wander around a bit before he found Flight Lieutenant Jennings¡¯s office, also used as a living cabin. Flight Lieutenant Jennings looked about twenty-six or twenty-seven. James immediately thought Steve was right about the commander¡¯s eyes. These hazy eyes reminded James of his father¡¯s hungover eyes. It even seemed to him that he smelt a slight odour of alcohol emanating from his new commander. He wrinkled his face slightly, not wanting to remember that time of his life. Fortunately, his grimace passed unnoticed by the officer. ¡®James Jenkins, right?¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant asked, looking at James with hazy eyes. ¡®No 1 Flying Training School, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ ¡®It is, sir,¡¯ James replied. ¡®The best school,¡¯ he added, suddenly remembering the School Commandant who used to start all his speeches to the cadets with those words. Only then did he decide it was not a good idea to start talking to his commanding officer that way. Flight Lieutenant Jennings just grinned. ¡®Every school thinks it is the best,¡¯ said he, carefully examining something in his tablet. ¡®Well, it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m more concerned that you only have thirty hours of solo flying. That¡¯s not enough.¡¯ ¡®The qualifying rating was even less, sir,¡¯ James replied, immediately doubting the validity of his words. He thought he remembered all the requirements perfectly well, but now they had completely slipped his mind. ¡®Maybe,¡¯ muttered Flight Lieutenant Jennings. ¡®I¡¯d heard they were constantly reducing the training time. We trained for four years, and the rating was over a hundred hours solo, and even that wasn¡¯t enough to make us real pilots¡­¡¯ James thought the Flight Lieutenant had not come up with it himself, he was just repeating someone else¡¯s words. ¡®It seems he wants to look older against our background. And where he gets booze,¡¯ James no longer doubted, now smelling not a faint but a very distinct smell of alcohol. ¡®Or is it not forbidden for the Space Agency staff? This is a uniformed service, but not a military one¡­¡¯ ¡®¡­Well, what am I to do with you?¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant¡¯s voice brought James back from his thinking. ¡®I don¡¯t know, sir,¡¯ he replied, assuming the attention position just in case. Flight Lieutenant Jennings flinched slightly, though it was hard to define what caused such a reaction ¨C James¡¯s words or his movement. ¡®Of course, you don¡¯t know¡­¡¯ he put his tablet on the table and waved his hand. ¡®Well, the first real training flight won¡¯t be so soon, not until this flying hangar reaches Neptune. But we should be ready. There are no simulators on board¡­¡¯ He raised his head again and looked at James intently. ¡®You see, they¡¯ve had no time to install them. Civvies!¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant uttered his last word with an undisguised air of contempt and waved his hand again. ¡®Hope you find a common language with your fighter¡¯s electronic brain. Dismissed.¡¯ ¡­ MSV Endurance left its orbit around Earth three hours later, heading for the Solar System¡¯s outer planets. Chapter 2 James could not fall asleep for long, tossing and turning on his bunk. He finally fell asleep, but it seemed he woke up only a second after his eyes had closed. All six lamps under the ceiling beamed a bright light over the entire sleeping quarters, forcing him to squint for a few seconds. The first one he saw once his eyes had adjusted to the light was Steve, standing near the bunk beds in nothing but his underpants. ¡®Good morning,¡¯ he said, smiling broadly. ¡®Morning,¡¯ James replied with a frown, not quite awake yet. ¡®Uh-huh, fucking morning,¡¯ Lewis¡¯s voice came from the bunk beside James¡¯s own. Steve turned to his voice. ¡®What happened?¡¯ ¡®Arghh¡­¡¯ Lewis muttered unhappily, waving his hand. ¡®I haven¡¯t slept at all¡­ and then that clock ¨C¡¯ ¡®Which clock?¡¯ ¡®This one,¡¯ Lewis nodded at the intercom screen above the table. ¡®From your bunks, it¡¯s invisible, but it¡¯s right in front of my eyes from mine.¡¯ ¡®Huh, big deal! Close your eyes and sleep,¡¯ Steve replied with a grin. ¡®Easy to say,¡¯ Lewis continued grumbling, ¡®not to mention your snoring.¡¯ ¡®That was James.¡¯ Steve seemed to be indignant. ¡®I¡¯ve never snored in my life!¡¯ ¡®Hey, don¡¯t shift the blame to others,¡¯ said James, unzipping his sleeping bag and turning to find his flight suit. He had completely forgotten where he had put it. ¡®Uh huh¡­¡¯ Lewis nodded his head. ¡®James wasn¡¯t here yet last night, but I could hear someone snoring quite clearly.¡¯ ¡®I never snored,¡¯ Steve insisted. ¡®Ask anyone! By the way, what time does your favourite clock say?¡¯ ¡®Half past six.¡¯ ¡®Oops! We have to be in the hangar at seven! Come on, lads, get a move on. We risk going without breakfast like yesterday,¡¯ Steve began to pull on his T-shirt. Lewis jumped down with his flight suit in his hands. ¡®What happened yesterday?¡¯ asked James, noticing nobody in the sleeping quarters except them three. Probably, other fellows got up earlier. ¡®We overslept a bit,¡¯ said Lewis, hastily dressing, ¡®and got to the mess at a quarter to seven. Rowling said this was not a resort for the faint-hearted but a military spacecraft and kicked us out. We had to starve until lunch.¡¯ ¡®Yep,¡¯ said Steve. ¡®We¡¯re going to have a lot of trouble with that bitch, I bet my bum. And Junkie¡­ yesterday you said¡­¡¯ he turned back to James, ¡®¡­he stank of whisky?¡¯ ¡®Looked like,¡¯ James replied. ¡®But I¡¯m not sure.¡¯ ¡®Whatever,¡¯ Steve waved his hand. ¡®Looks like, we¡¯re going to have no less fucking problems with him.¡¯ ¡®You can bet your bum?¡¯ Lewis giggled. ¡®Uh-huh¡­¡¯ James finally found his flight suit on the rack above his bunk and missed the following words from Steve. Suddenly, Steve fell silent and stared at the entrance hatch. James followed his eyes and knew what had happened. Flight Sergeant Rowling stood behind the threshold. It seemed that seeing half-dressed boys did not bother her, but James felt slightly embarrassed. He jumped off the bunk and began to pull on his flight suit, trying not to look at Rowling. Steve and Lewis wasted no time, too. A minute later, all three stormed out of the sleeping quarters and ran to the mess, having no time for a shower. James thought it might be possible to drop by the shower room later. Breakfast seemed no better than the dinner he had eaten yesterday. A ham omelette, as stated on the menu, was obviously of the same unnatural origin as the pork chop James could hardly bring himself to eat last evening. The coffee only smelled like real coffee. However, he did not have much time to enjoy the food, if there was anything to enjoy. The food at his Flying school was not the same as at home, but at least it was natural. The school cook cooked delicious meals, sourcing fresh vegetables and various tropical fruits from somewhere, obviously not a grocery store. James noticed that even the senior technicians, all sergeants, and warrant officers frowned at their quasi-omelettes. He left the mess in a bad mood and followed his companions, barely noticing where he was going until he found himself in the H deck hangar. The hangar looked huge, stretching the whole, or almost the whole, length of the spacecraft. James remembered Max, the shuttle pilot, telling him the hangar was over two hundred metres long. It seemed that the hangar also took up part of G Deck. He still did not quite understand the configuration of that part of the spacecraft just thought that the rear bulkhead of their sleeping quarters might be part of the hangar bulkhead. Closer to the outer gateway, he saw several tarpaulin-covered fighter craft, one of which he thought was for him. ¡®Are these our fighters?¡¯ he asked, touching Steve and pointing to the silhouettes covered in tarpaulin. Steve shook his head. ¡®Nope¡­¡¯ he gestured with his head towards a group of pilots lined up across the Flight deck, ¡®A-Flight¡­¡¯ ¡®Fall in!¡¯ The digital clock above the left airlock counted down the final seconds to seven, so they both hurried to take their places in the line along which Flight Sergeant Rowling had strolled with her cane under her arm, looking at them as they tried to line up by height. At that moment, the numbers 5 and 9 on the digital clock were replaced by two zeros, and the left entrance airlock opened as if by itself. ¡®Shun!¡¯ The command sounded sharp, making James shudder. Out of his eye corner, he noticed some of the technicians in the opposite row shuddering, too. But he failed to mark how he did all the movements necessary to carry out the command. The exercises which seemed unnecessary at the Flying School were not in vain. Meanwhile, a group of senior officers appeared in the hangar. The first was probably Wing Commander Burton (there were three blue stripes on the sleeves of his uniform), followed by two other officers. James thought the one might be the Deputy Commander, Squadron Leader King if he remembered the name correctly. The second officer was most likely Squadron Leader Sawyer. Both were dressed in flight suits, but the Wing Commander wore the traditional grey-blue uniform, which looked unusual inside a spacecraft. ¡®Why didn¡¯t we get such kinda uniform?¡¯ asked Steve in a whisper, standing to the right of James, with a nod of his head towards the Squadron Commander. ¡®Such kinda uniform costs a lot of money,¡¯ whispered Lewis, standing on the left. ¡®Huh, where would you go in a uniform like that,¡¯ James whispered back, ¡®to swab the deck?¡¯ ¡®Maybe we¡¯ll wear something like that someday,¡¯ Steve said dreamily, almost in full voice. ¡®Uh-huh,¡¯ Lewis muttered, ¡®in a coffin.¡¯ ¡®Go to hell!¡¯ ¡®Stop talking!¡¯ Flight Sergeant Rowling¡¯s whistling whisper had silenced all three. ¡®Squadron, salute the front, salute!¡¯ Once again, James had made all the movements automatically without even realising it. The Flight Sergeant was already marching towards the commander. He continued to look around the Flight Deck, trying not to turn his head. It seemed to him that several pilots and technicians were doing the same, although he was the only one attending this for the first time. The airlock connecting the hangar to the other spacecraft compartments was oval and double. Each time the outer gateway opened and the hangar was depressurised, massive slabs were lowered to reliably isolate the remaining parts of the spacecraft from the airless space. At this time, it was possible to be here wearing only a spacesuit. James had seen something similar in the training craft, but the hangar of the training craft was considerably smaller. Meanwhile, Fight Sergeant Rowling had finished her report and stepped back. ¡®Stand at ease!¡¯ The Squadron commander took a few steps forward and stood almost opposite James. ¡®Firstly, I¡¯d like to say a few words about our upcoming mission,¡¯ he began. ¡®As you should know, our squadron¡¯s missions and all the other Joint Forces missions have been limited to patrolling the inner part of the Solar System. However, the Western Alliance Joint Command has now decided to extend the security zone. That means we have to operate in deep space. But that¡¯s not all. Of particular importance is the fact of our new spacecraft. I say our spacecraft because we are not just guests here. We are the main defence against the enemy. The Endurance, you might say, is the latest in technology, the result of the efforts of many of our best scientists and engineers. Moreover, the spacecraft has just undergone modernisation, bringing it closer in technical characteristics to those spacecraft not yet commissioned, which should give us a stable position in this protracted war, which has already cost us many lives. I won¡¯t even talk about lost spacecraft because compared to human life, tin doesn¡¯t matter. But we have a serious problem that affects us directly. I mean our squadron. This problem is¡­¡¯ It seemed to James the Squadron commander was now looking directly at him, although, more likely, it only seemed. ¡®¡­Some of our newcomers haven¡¯t had enough experience yet. This means that we have to correct this serious shortcoming, which is due to lack of time. Fortunately, we still have the opportunity to carry out a series of training exercises. The first of these will begin after we¡¯ve reached Neptune¡¯s orbit, where our spacecraft is expected to wait for an escort. That doesn¡¯t mean we have nothing to do for the next month and a half. First of all, no one is yet ready to rule out the possibility of an enemy incursion into the inner reaches of the Solar System. So we¡¯ll be on high alert at all times. Secondly, we can continue the training process on board because we have all the technical facilities. All Flight commanders have already been briefed on the latest instructions from the Joint Command, which we received yesterday. I ask all of you to concentrate on carrying out the tasks that have been assigned to you.¡¯ Wing Commander Burton fell silent and stepped back ¡­ ¡­ The dismissal order sounded; the lineup was mixed; the huge hangar filled with a hum of voices over which James could barely hear the voice of his Flight commander ordering his subordinates to assemble in Hangar Number 6 on J Deck within the next ten minutes. James was about to run to the shower room, hoping ten minutes would be enough for him when Flight Sergeant Rowling¡¯s sharp voice stopped him near the entrance airlock. ¡®Jenkins, Wolverton, Blackwood, to me!¡¯ All three came to the Flight Sergeant standing where the Squadron commander had been a few minutes ago. Her stern expression indicated that nothing good was to be expected. James had guessed as much after Rowling had hissed at them during the formation; he just hoped they would escape before she remembered them. It seemed that luck had turned its back on him this time. ¡®I see yesterday¡¯s warning hasn¡¯t worked for you, Mr Wolverton, neither for you, Mr Jenkins¡­¡¯ No one replied. James decided it would be better to keep quiet. The others seemed to have decided to do the same. ¡®Shun!¡¯ Rowling shouted so loudly that her voice seemed to cover all two hundred metres of the Flight Deck. Her scream forced James into a position of attention. Steve and Lewis also froze. ¡®¡­On my command, you¡¯re all to run to me on the bounce, not walk with the relaxed gait of beach harassers,¡¯ she continued a little more calmly, tucking her cane back under her arm and walking along an improvised formation of three lads. ¡®But that¡¯s nothing compared to your conversations in the lineup. I can¡¯t remember such a blatant breach of discipline in our squadron history¡­¡¯ James noticed as Steve opened his mouth, probably intending to say something but immediately shutting it. It was hard to realise if Rowling caught Steve¡¯s intent, but she stopped just before him.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡®I never expected this from you, Mr Wolverton. And I cannot believe it was allowed in your Training School, Mr Jenkins!¡¯ She stared at James, her eyes wide open, like the eyes of actors in old silent films. He could barely stop himself from smiling. Lewis could not resist, which was not escape Rowling. ¡®Have I said something funny, Mr Blackwood?¡¯ she hissed. ¡®Sir, may I ¨C¡¯ Steve began but stopped immediately under her stern gaze. ¡®You¡¯re not allowed to speak, Astronaut Second Class Wolverton! You should know better than anyone that it¡¯s inappropriate to interrupt your senior in rank. I¡¯ll overlook this infraction, but you will be punished for the rest. Yesterday¡¯s reprimand will go on your record¡­¡¯ She turned back to James. ¡®¡­I thought to limit myself to a verbal warning to you, Mr. Jenkins. But now I see it¡¯s been in vain. You¡¯ll all have reprimands in your personnel files. I¡¯m giving you all extra duty¡­¡¯ Steve opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. ¡®¡­After completing your assignments, you must all report to my office for instructions. Understood?¡¯ No one replied. ¡®Understood?¡¯ she shouted. ¡®Sir, yes, sir!¡¯ All three replied in chorus, even louder than it should have been in this situation. ¡®Well, that¡¯s better,¡¯ Rowling muttered. ¡®Dismissed!¡¯ The incident appears to have gone unnoticed. All the other pilots were already headed out of the hangar and down to the lower deck, where James hoped to see his fighter. Unless he would reassign to the auxiliary staff, he thought, heading towards the transition airlock. His mood, spoiled by breakfast, became even worse. His fellows looked similar. ¡®Damn it!¡¯ Lewis exclaimed as the three of them walked downstairs. ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ Steve replied, patting his mate on the shoulder. ¡®She said about a reprimand ¨C¡¯ Steve shook his head. ¡®Bluff. Nobody can put on a fizzer twice for the same thing,¡¯ said he. ¡®She can reprimand us or give us extra duty, but not both at once.¡¯ ¡®Maybe,¡¯ said James. ¡®Not maybe, definitely, read the regulations,¡¯ Steve retorted vigorously. ¡®I was just thinking¡­¡¯ Lewis chuckled, ¡®who could have harassed her on a beach?¡¯ ¡®Harassed?¡¯ Steve raised his eyebrows. ¡®She said we came up to her like beach harassers.¡¯ ¡®I can¡¯t imagine who could have thought of harassing that old bat,¡¯ James snorted. ¡®Only if he was blind or an idiot¡­¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s the way I see it,¡¯ Steve agreed. ¡®I think ¨C¡¯ He did not finish; they had already entered the hangar, where James noticed Flight Lieutenant Jennings with an older officer who was likely B Flight¡¯s commander, Squadron Leader Dutton. The Section commander said nothing, but he met them with a glance that showed Rowling obviously had time to snitch. Today, his eyes seemed normal, but he was visibly nervous. The reason could only be guessed. James thought it was because, apart from the commander, everyone else in their Section was a newcomer. As Steve had told him yesterday, the squadron had been reformed after the previous mission and now consisted of two Flights, with each Section containing four fighters instead of the original three. These machines, covered in tarpaulin, immediately caught James¡¯s attention and forced him to forget about the incident with Rowling that spoiled his mood. The fighter-interceptors were only vaguely similar to atmospheric machines because they were designed to operate in airless space. The pilot¡¯s cockpit protruded only slightly above the fuselage. There was no glass canopy covering the cockpits of previous atmospheric aircraft. Several video cameras and sensors transmitted the image directly to the virtual screen of the pilot¡¯s helmet, integrated with an on-board intelligent system so that the pilot could visually control the entire space around him as if he were sitting inside a glass ball. These helmets, previously laid out by the technicians on mobile tables, had to be adjusted individually for each pilot, as well as for the electronic brain of each fighter. All this took several hours, during which James had only one opportunity to look into the cabin of his fighter. At the same time, they had to try on the spacesuits equipped with a jet engine in case they were ejected into space. He had no time to examine the weapons systems in detail. He only noticed that they were slightly different from the systems of the training craft with which he was familiar. Lunchtime came, and all the technicians dropped their work as if on command. James concluded that lunchtime was a sacred time for that part of the staff. However, he also managed to get hungry and made no objection. But on his way to the mess, he encountered an unexpected obstacle. Flight Sergeant Rowling beckoned him with a gesture that left no doubt. Steve and Lewis stood next to her, looking sad. ¡®I thought I had assigned you three to clean the residential compartment,¡¯ she said in an iron tone. ¡®Right now?¡¯ James exclaimed automatically. ¡®I mean¡­ er¡­ lunchtime¡­¡¯ ¡®I mean your off-duty time.¡¯ ¡®We¡¯d miss lunch, sir,¡¯ said Steve. Rowling gave him the look that the Gorgon Medusa might have given Perseus. ¡®That¡¯s not my concern. Your task is to clean the sleeping quarters, corridors 3 and 4 and all the other rooms, including the hygiene rooms.¡¯ ¡®We¡¯re not going to make it in an hour,¡¯ Lewis muttered. Gorgon¡¯s gaze flashed to him. ¡®As far as I know, according to today¡¯s schedule, the time after 15.00 is for self-training and doesn¡¯t apply to your duties. Corporal Tomyn is on duty in the residential compartment. He has everything you need. Get going.¡¯ Turning on her heels, Rowling headed towards the messroom. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ Steve slammed his fist against the bulkhead. James looked at him questioningly. ¡®¡­Tomyn,¡¯ Steve continued. ¡®This fucking careerist seeks promotion at any cost.¡¯ ¡®Wanna say, no chance to scrimshank?¡¯ James asked. ¡®Gah!¡¯ Steve waved his hand. ¡®Yeah, Dabir told me,¡¯ added Lewis, ¡®Tomyn is a snitch withal.¡¯ ¡®Hmm, he looks quite innocent,¡¯ said James, guessing who his mates were talking about. He even had time to exchange a few words with that blonde-haired lad from Flight Control last evening. Today, while they were checking their fighters, he also got to know Rajiv Dabir, a taciturn Junior Technician. Steve snorted contemptuously. ¡®Tomyn only looks innocent. Dad told me once about a guy from their squadron. He looked the same, and they didn¡¯t even know he snitched on everyone. What do you think? That son of a bitch became a Flight Lieutenant in just two years and even got the Space Force Cross. As you know, such decorations were not handed out in droves before the war. Even now, it¡¯s mostly given posthumously.¡¯ ¡®D¡¯you think, Tomyn got his chevron similarly?¡¯ Steve chuckled. ¡®Hmm¡­ I think it was not only like that, but maybe I¡¯m wrong.¡¯ Corporal Tomyn was waiting for them with mops, buckets and a special, not very pleasant-smelling, compound for cleaning. Water was not used in the spacecraft for this purpose for obvious reasons. James already had a very unpleasant feeling in his stomach. At his Flying Training School, cadets were never made to work instead of eating, not even as a punishment. He swabbed the deck diligently, trying not to notice Tomyn, who was flashing around from time to time. If all the rumours about this type were true, he was clearly looking for something to complain about. At Steve¡¯s suggestion, they decided not to give him a chance and set about their task diligently. Soon, James began to feel tired and pain in his arms and back. An hour and a half later, when Rowling appeared and he, as senior in rank of the three, showed her the results, it turned out that there was more to it than that. The Flight Sergeant found dust on the handrails. An hour later, she said the junior technicians¡¯ sleeping quarters had not been sufficiently cleaned. Lunchtime was over when Rowling said the companionway to the lower deck was also in their working area. ¡®Bloody hell!¡¯ Steve exclaimed as Rowling again found fault with their work and walked away, tapping her cane on the railing. ¡®T¡¯s just a sophisticated mockery. I¡¯m going to report this to the commander!¡¯ He took a step back and toppled his bucket. Half its contents splashed down the companionway steps, and some stayed on his flight suit. The stream of Steve¡¯s curses was supplemented by the loud indignation of the duty officer from the lower deck, who apparently also got a part of this substance. ¡®Bye-bye lunch,¡¯ muttered Steve sadly. ¡®Humm¡­¡¯ Lewis looked at him. ¡®I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s a good idea to go to the messroom like this.¡¯ ¡®You can come back and change your clothes,¡¯ James suggested. Steve shook his head. ¡®It¡¯s the only flight suit I¡¯ve got.¡¯ James examined himself as best he could. He seemed to be all right. ¡®Here¡¯s what we do,¡¯ said he, ¡®you two go to the shower room and try to wash Steve¡¯s flight suit. I¡¯ll tidy up downstairs and report to Rowling that we¡¯re done because now we¡¯re done.¡¯ ¡®Maybe that¡¯s not necessary,¡¯ said Lewis. ¡®Who might notice?¡¯ Steve sighed sadly. ¡®I¡¯m not sure. Look here¡­¡¯ he pointed to the large stain on his flight suit, ¡®¡­all in this shit, and here too. Anyone can see it.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s because our uniforms are coloured like this,¡¯ Lewis said. ¡®The Space Agency¡¯s uniform is a pretty emerald green, but ours looks like ¨C I can¡¯t quite put my finger on it¡­¡¯ ¡®Well, they¡¯re the Space Agency, but we¡¯re the Space Force,¡¯ Steve said. ¡®They¡¯re scientists, we¡¯re soldiers.¡¯ ¡®Yeah, scientists, especially that one¡­¡¯ Lewis nodded to a young boy coming down the stairs. He looked about fifteen but was in the Space Agency uniform, even with an insignia patch on his sleeve. James just did not have time to identify what was on the patch. ¡®Maybe he¡¯s someone¡¯s son,¡¯ said he when the boy disappeared from their view. ¡®It seems that before the war, Space Agency personnel were allowed to invite their family members on board.¡¯ ¡®Before the war,¡¯ Steve emphasised his first word, ¡®and while a spacecraft was in orbit around the Earth. By the way,¡¯ he added, ¡®if this kid was just somebody¡¯s relative, he¡¯d be wearing civvies.¡¯ ¡®Okay, men,¡¯ James cut the discussion, taking matters into his own hands. ¡®You two go to the shower room. We have to ¨C¡¯ He did not finish, noticing Rowling, who had appeared at this most inopportune moment. ¡®We¡¯ve done,¡¯ said he, making the others sign to keep silent. ¡®As for this¡­ er¡­ I¡¯m going to clean it all up.¡¯ ¡®Do you think so?¡¯ Rowling examined all the companionway steps, and then ran her hand along the railing. ¡®Well, it looks like all right. However, I have to give you a reprimand, Mr Wolverton, because of the state of your uniform.¡¯ ¡®We were not provided with work clothes,¡¯ Steve muttered. ¡®May I ask who had to provide you?¡¯ Rowling cut him off in an icy tone of voice. ¡®You had to get the work clothes yourself before you started work.¡¯ ¡®Nobody told us ¨C¡¯ Steve began, Rowling throwing up her hands. ¡®Are you all in kindergarten? You all got the pilot¡¯s certificates! You all have been promoted to military ranks¡­¡¯ For a moment, the stern Flight Sergeant had turned into a grumpy fishwife, but she caught herself. ¡®¡­Alright, hand your inventory back, clean up and go to dinner, but not you, Jenkins, until you have liquidated these consequences.¡¯ She pointed down with her cane, then turned around and walked away. Steve and Lewis followed her, picking up their buckets and mops. James went down to the lower deck. A rather large puddle had already formed there, so he had to spend a long time collecting the washing liquid with a soaked cleaning rag. Now, it seemed, not only his arms and back but his whole body was sore and aching from exhaustion. ¡®Astronaut First Class Jenkins, right?¡¯ An unknown but imperious voice caught him as he bent over a damned puddle that refused to diminish. He looked up. An officer in a uniform with the Squadron Leader¡¯s rank insignia stood above him. He was one of the two who had accompanied the Squadron §ãommander this morning. James had thought this might be Deputy Squadron Commander King and straightened himself mechanically. ¡®Yes, sir!¡¯ ¡®Relax. And keep away from me with your rag,¡¯ the officer said, motioning for James to move away, then continued, checking the records on his tablet. ¡®You haven¡¯t undergone a medical examination. I can¡¯t allow you to go flying.¡¯ ¡®A medical examination?¡¯ ¡®Exactly, Astronaut First Class, if you know that term.¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir¡­ er¡­ yes indeed, sir¡­¡¯ James became confused. ¡®I¡¯m just¡­ I thought it was not necessary. The Flying School surgeon sent my medical file¡­ I mean, he had to send¡­ er¡­¡¯ The officer looked at him sternly and said in the same tone, ¡®All personnel must undergo a medical examination upon arrival at a new duty station, especially if this is a spacecraft. You haven¡¯t had one, and I¡¯d like to know why.¡¯ ¡®Nobody told me about that, sir,¡¯ James replied, thinking it was too much for today. The Squadron Leader shook his head in doubt. ¡®It¡¯s possible but unlikely,¡¯ said he. ¡®You have¡­¡¯ he looked at his watch, ¡®forty minutes to correct the situation. Otherwise, I shall have to transfer you to the auxiliary staff. I don¡¯t want to do that, but I can¡¯t break the regulations.¡¯ Hastily finishing the cleaning and reporting back to Rowling, James went to look for the Sickbay. It took him nearly half an hour. Finally, he found himself outside the entrance airlock to the Sickbay. But he hesitated on the threshold when he noticed a woman of about forty inside. She was dressed in the Space Agency uniform with golden oak leaves on her collar. The woman saw him too and smiled very friendly. ¡®I¡¯m¡­ um¡­ from the Space Force,¡¯ he mumbled, ¡®reported¡­ um¡­ for a medical examination.¡¯ ¡®Well, come in,¡¯ said the woman, keeping her smile up. ¡®Just my reception hours ¨C¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s not my whim; I¡¯ve an order,¡¯ he said rudely. She nodded. ¡®I see. James Jenkins, I presume?¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®I prefer to be addressed by my name or simply Doctor,¡¯ said she, smiling again. ¡®Well, come in¡­¡¯ He crossed the threshold. ¡®¡­Lie down here¡­¡¯ She pointed to the couch next to the back bulkhead without taking her eyes off her computer display, and then switched on the device mounted above the couch. James thought it was a portable CT scanner. ¡®Have you got any problems?¡¯ ¡®Only with my fate,¡¯ James replied with a deep breath. ¡®Well, such a thing is out of my control,¡¯ said she. ¡®Is there something under your control?¡¯ said he in a slightly irritated tone. She smiled. ¡®Your mood is out of that list too.¡¯ ¡®What do you care about my mood?¡¯ ¡®Well, how to say¡­¡¯ she raised her eyebrows. ¡®We haven¡¯t met yet, so we have no reason to become enemies. And I¡¯m not such a Furia, you¡¯ve already drawn in your imagination.¡¯ ¡®Oh yes,¡¯ he went on, ¡®and you have a son of my age, you miss him a lot, and other stuff¡­¡¯ ¡®Why do you think so?¡¯ ¡®Adults always say sorta when trying to ingratiate themselves with us.¡¯ The Doctor looked at him and raised her eyebrows. ¡®You think I¡¯m trying to ingratiate myself with you?¡¯ said she. ¡®By the way, you¡¯re not a kid already, right?¡¯ Suddenly, she winked at him and raised her hand to the control panel, probably to change the settings. He noticed a name patch on her uniform. Contrary to the uniform regulations, her full name was on the patch: Jessica Kirkpatrick. ¡®¡­However,¡¯ she went on, ¡®you¡¯re right. I have a son, but he is a bit younger than you. He¡¯s only twelve. And I really miss him as much as your mum misses you¡­ Well¡­¡¯ she switched off her device, ¡®¡­that¡¯s all.¡¯ ¡®And?¡¯ James did not understand. She shrugged. ¡®I¡¯ll put the data in your medical file and send it to whom it may concern, with a note that you¡¯re allowed to pilot your fighter or whatever.¡¯ ¡®So am I all right?¡¯ ¡®Fit as a fiddle,¡¯ she winked at him again. ¡®You can go.¡¯ James got up from the couch. ¡®Thank you¡­ Doctor Jessica,¡¯ said he, adding the last words unexpectedly, even for himself. The Doctor smiled kindly. ¡®You¡¯re welcome.¡¯ He headed for the entrance airlock, almost colliding with a young girl who suddenly appeared in his path. She was wearing a Space Agency uniform, but James failed to notice any rank insignia because he stepped on his own foot, staggered and banged his shoulder hard against the bulkhead. ¡®Sorry,¡¯ he muttered, rubbing the bruised shoulder. The girl looked at him as if surprised, then suddenly smiled but said nothing and came inside the Sickbay. Suddenly confused, James stumbled over the threshold, almost sprawling on deck. He scarcely had time to eat dinner, forcing himself to swallow absolutely tasteless artificial cutlets, back to his sleeping quarters, and climb onto his bunk. His mood was totally out of sorts. Hateful Flight Sergeant Rowling kept appearing before his eyes, and various plans for revenge sprang to mind. Chapter 3 A sharp sound caused James to look more carefully at the virtual screen. Two bright, pulsating dots appeared just below the top right-hand corner. Moving incessantly against the background of the fixed stars and getting closer and closer ¨C the distance indicator kept dropping ¨C these dots could only mean one thing. James reached for the weapons control panel, activated it, and switched on the communications system. ¡®Tally-ho! Coordinates¡­¡¯ He uttered a series of numbers that appeared on his virtual screen but missed the last one. ¡®Uh¡­ two o¡¯clock up.¡¯ Steve reacted instantly, ¡®Roger.¡¯ ¡®Attack plan ¨C¡¯ James began but had no time to finish. Squadron Leader Dutton¡¯s voice appeared in his headset. ¡®Stop!¡¯ The virtual screen froze. James leaned back in the pilot¡¯s seat, mentally replaying his last actions in his head and trying to figure out what he had done wrong and why the Flight commander had stopped the simulation. ¡®Mr Jenkins, tell me, what have you been doing?¡¯ Dutton¡¯s voice appeared again. ¡®Sir¡­¡¯ James was so confused that he could not find words. ¡®I ¨C¡¯ ¡®Mr Jenkins, can you hear me?¡¯ The commander¡¯s voice was absolutely calm, which confused James even more. ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Sure, sir¡­ I was getting ready for an attack¡­ sir.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re going to attack the enemy, I understand that right?¡¯ The commander¡¯s tone seemed quite astonished. ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®Do you remember your mission task? What it was?¡¯ ¡®Uh¡­ a reconnaissance¡­ er¡­ sir.¡¯ ¡®Exactly, Astronaut First Class,¡¯ said the commander. ¡®Reconnaissance¡­¡¯ he emphasised the word, ¡®and there was nothing about any other action even if enemies were detected, was there?¡¯ James had already gathered his thoughts and replied clearly, without hesitation, ¡®Yes, sir. You¡¯re right, sir.¡¯ ¡®So what the hell have you been doing?¡¯ Dutton barked suddenly. Until now, James had only seen the B Flight commander a few times and had found him to be a quiet and discreet gentleman, unlike most senior officers and even more so Flight Sergeant Rowling. But today, the Squadron Leader did not mince his words. Sergeant Hancock, who had been with the squadron since the beginning of the war, said it would take a lot of screwing up to make Dutton angry. ¡®¡­And why did you not inform the control centre of the enemy¡¯s appearance in your responsibility area?¡¯ the Flight commander continued, calmer. ¡®You should have done so immediately. That was your mission task.¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ yes, sir¡­ but if ¨C¡¯ James wanted to retort but could not find the right words again. ¡®Very well¡­ I mean very bad,¡¯ the Flight commander interrupted him coldly. ¡®I¡¯m activating the landing programme now. Try not to screw it up this time. Otherwise, I can¡¯t be sure you are ready for real mission. I¡¯ll be waiting for you both in my office after the simulation; Mr Jennings, you too.¡¯ James guessed that the Section Commander was also in touch with Dutton, listening to every word and drawing his own conclusions. He tried to turn his mind to completing all the pre-landing procedures. At the right moment, as he thought, he gave Steve the command to get ready, completed the landing checklist, and typed in the activation code of the landing program on the control panel. The fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence responded as it should (James exhaled in relief), synchronising their speed to the spacecraft¡¯s speed. Both fighters entered an approach trajectory almost at the same time. James breathed a sigh of relief again when the indicator showed that his fighter craft had caught the arrestor gear, just in case, waited for the green light confirming the hangar sealing and opened the external hatch after that only. It did not make practical sense because their fighters did not leave the hangar. However, he had no doubt that Dutton watched them closely. ¡®How it goes?¡¯ asked Lewis, who met them in the hallway. James just waved his hand. ¡®Not good,¡¯ muttered Steve, also rather distressed. ¡®What happened?¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ really, I didn¡¯t get it. We spotted the enemy, James gave the command to attack, and everything in due form, but Dutton stopped the simulation, saying that this wasn¡¯t in the mission task.¡¯ ¡®We were stopped too,¡¯ Lewis said. ¡®Junkie was a bit nervous; twice ordered to change course and suddenly gave the command for landing. Dutton asked what the reason was, he mumbled something, and in short, full bullshit came out.¡¯ Steve scolded with feeling. ¡®If Junky gets his arse kicked, he might take it out on us,¡¯ said he. ¡®Yep,¡¯ James agreed. ¡®What the hell! Yesterday it all went okay¡­¡¯ The day before, in the same computer simulation mode they practised a group attack with the entire squadron. All the commanders were satisfied; even Wing Commander Burton praised at first Dutton as the Flight commander, then Jennings, and even James and Steve separately for well-coordinated actions, as he put it, only mixed up their names. He probably had not yet remembered all the newcomers. The Flight commander¡¯s office door was open, and Jennings¡¯s voice was heard from inside. ¡®¡­I already told you, sir, that these two¡­ er¡­ I mean¡­ I count them both as¡­¡¯ Lewis was right. The Section commander was really on edge and probably confused about what he was saying because of it. James and Steve stopped a few steps before the door and looked at each other. The conversation was clearly about both of them. ¡®Insufficiently ready, you want to say?¡¯ Dutton interrupted the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s stormy verbiage. ¡®So, what¡¯s stopping you from teaching them? We have time for this yet. And that¡¯s the reason you should take advantage of this time. We will go on a mission very soon; it could be too late.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m a pilot, sir, not a school teacher.¡¯ ¡®Well, who am I?¡¯ Dutton raised his voice a little. ¡®However, I had to become a teacher, including for you personally. You¡¯ve been deemed qualified enough for a command position. So, let¡¯s share your knowledge and skills with them. The commander is not only the one who gives the orders.¡¯ ¡®I think it¡¯s wrong to entrust the control of combat vehicles to these¡­ They¡¯re just children ¨C¡¯ Dutton stopped Jennings again with a raised hand. ¡®What you assume is right or wrong doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ said he. ¡®Even at peacetime, nobody was given the right to select his subordinates, especially now. I¡¯m not happy with it either. But you¡¯re aware of the situation well, I presume. First of all, inevitable losses, not only combat ones, of which there were too many at the first stage of the war. Secondly, radiation does not allow anyone to stay in deep space indefinitely, even with all spacecraft¡¯s protection systems. Our fighters don¡¯t have such systems at all, and engineers still cannot yet create such systems that are sufficiently compact and reliable. How long did you spend on rehabilitation after the previous mission? A lot, didn¡¯t you. However, someone else must fly instead of you all that time. As for these boys¡­ some of them lost their fathers by this war, they¡¯re ¨C¡¯ ¡®And Joint Command takes advantage of this,¡¯ muttered Jennings. ¡®Great!¡¯ The Flight commander shook his head. ¡®It¡¯s not for us to talk over Joint Command,¡¯ said he strictly. ¡®Whatever you want you have to work with them. Raise them as you were raised. By the way, you, even after the Officers¡¯ College, came here not as such an experienced pilot as you became later. And they only have a short Flying School course behind them. I mean that fact, they¡¯ve been taught to pilot is already an achievement ¨C¡¯ The Flight commander broke himself off, probably only now noticing James and Steve staying in the doorway. ¡®Come,¡¯ said he gloomily. James passed the doorstep, Steve followed him. ¡®Astronaut First Class Jenkins ¨C¡¯ ¡®Stand easy,¡¯ Dutton interrupted him accompanying his words with a gesture. Out of his eye corner, James noticed a grimace on Jennings¡¯s face. It was not so easy to realise what it meant, but most likely, it did not bode well for them. Meanwhile, Dutton paced his not-so-big office, snapping his fingers in time with his steps. ¡®I hope,¡¯ he began, ¡®you¡¯ve familiarised yourself with the mission task before starting the simulation.¡¯ James nodded positively. ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®So,¡¯ the Flight commander continued, ¡®you should have noticed there was no word about an attack on the enemy.¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®Your flying school instructors explained the meaning of the term ¡°reconnaissance¡± to you, didn¡¯t they?¡¯ James nodded again. ¡®Yes, sir, but¡­ um¡­ the enemy could have detected us¡­ er¡­I mean, they would have detected us in all likelihood, which would have given them a chance to attack and destroy us before we completed the mission.¡¯ ¡®Did the enemy somehow indicate that they had detected you?¡¯ asked Dutton stared directly at James. ¡®Uh¡­ er¡­ No, sir,¡¯ James became distraught under that stare. ¡®But¡­ I mean, we might not have known about this. Their early warning systems are obviously more advanced than ours¡­¡¯ ¡®They surely detected us,¡¯ added Steve. ¡®You see, sir?¡¯ Jennings butted, ¡®I told you ¨C¡¯ Dutton motioned the Flight Lieutenant to silence. ¡®Hold on, Mr Jennings. We have to figure it all out. That¡¯s what training is for¡­¡¯ He looked at James and Steve and continued in a calmer, more conciliatory tone, ¡®I understand the reasons for your actions. That was why you both joined the Space Force even though you might be¡­¡¯ Dutton even seemed to chuckle, ¡®¡­playing computer games, sitting on a cosy sofa at home. The adrenaline rush is almost the same and not any slightest danger. I understand your desire, Mr Wolverton, to get into battle soon. Moreover, I partly share your feeling¡­¡¯ James heard a note of annoyance in the Squadron Leader¡¯s tone. ¡®¡­The war has already cost us many lives. I¡¯ve lost a good friend with whom I grew up. You, Mr Wolverton, have lost your father. We still don¡¯t know why these aliens attacked us. There are many various assumptions, theories and conjectures ¨C¡¯ The Flight commander fell silent for a moment and snapped his fingers again. ¡®¡­However, I am a military man,¡¯ he continued, ¡®and it¡¯s not for me to theorise and speculate. I must do my duty. Both of you are also military men now, and your first duty¡¯s to follow the orders you have been given, whatever they may be. You showed your ability to observe, assess the situation, and draw conclusions; that¡¯s fine, but you didn¡¯t follow the order. That¡¯s why I stopped the simulation. Your attack, even if successful ¨C which is highly doubtful ¨C could expose not only two fighters but the carrier craft itself. Whoever these creatures are, they certainly suspect that vehicles like our fighters cannot fly in space on their own. By the way, you¡¯ve used some unrecommended terms. The Battle of Britain is a glorious page in our history, but it doesn¡¯t cancel the radio traffic regulations. You may consider this insignificant, but violations of these regulations have had serious consequences on more than one occasion¡­¡¯ James marked that Jennings was about to say something but did not dare to interrupt the Flight commander. ¡®¡­You¡¯ll all have another chance to take the initiative, maybe even sooner than you thought,¡¯ Dutton went on, taking a deep breath. ¡®Tomorrow is our first real flight, before which all systems must be carefully checked. Mr Jennings, report back to me at 19.00. I haven¡¯t received the flight plan yet, so there may be some unexpected surprises at any time, and we must be ready for them. Dismissed.¡¯ Jennings squeaked angrily through his teeth as the three walked out of the Flight commander¡¯s cabin into the corridor. ¡®You two,¡¯ said he abruptly, ¡®remember, I don¡¯t want to hear something like that anymore. Get to the hangar. You only have three hours to check all the systems.¡¯ ¡®Isn¡¯t that the techies¡¯ job?¡¯ asked Steve. Jennings seemed to be on the verge of screaming.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®This is your fighter,¡¯ he hissed, having mastered himself not without some difficulty. ¡®Wanna rely on techies, fine, have it your way, but I don¡¯t want to be told off again tomorrow. You, Jenkins, have been in charge of a pair only because we have an understaffed officer corps, and you have a surplus chevron. However, this chevron can easily be ripped off your uniform, don¡¯t forget. In the event of the slightest malfunction, even the most trivial, you both would be kicked off the flight staff to hell! This is not a computer game. This is space, do you understand? Understand?¡¯ he barked because James and Steve remained silent. ¡®Yessir!¡¯ Snorting with displeasure, Jennings walked away. ¡®Shit!¡¯ James reacted with a deep sigh and looked at Steve. ¡®Honestly, Dutton is absolutely right. I shouldn¡¯t have rushed. Besides, set you up ¨C¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t fret about me,¡¯ Steve smiled and patted him on the shoulder. ¡®Dutton seemed to me to be a very reasonable man. Hear him kick Junkie back? I guess he went over the top yesterday, and now he got his ball back.¡¯ ¡®I am afraid he can play us back. What did he say about getting rid of us ¨C¡¯ ¡®Let him talk about whatever he likes,¡¯ said Steve, laughing. ¡®It¡¯s gonna be alright.¡¯ He winked. ¡®We made an impression on the squadron commander yesterday. If all goes well tomorrow, we might even get promoted.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh, right now¡­¡¯ Steve¡¯s unexpected enthusiasm seemed excessive to James. ¡®¡­forgot Rowling and reprimand?¡¯ ¡®Rubbish. Who¡¯s the boss here,¡¯ Steve chuckled, ¡®Squadron Leader or Flight Sergeant? Burton is just going to say a word, and Rowling is going to shove that reprimand up her arse. So if it¡¯s in her power to reprimand us, it¡¯s in his power to reverse all those reprimands to hell.¡¯ ¡®That would be nice,¡¯ James muttered. ¡®Take it easy, old man¡­¡¯ Steve patted him on the shoulder again. ¡®Nothing¡¯s happened yet. And we¡¯ll deal with Rowling somehow. We need to keep out of her sight, and that¡¯s all there is to it.¡¯ They headed for the hangar, where the technicians were supposed to lower the fighters from the flight deck. All the vehicles were already in their usual places. The head of the deck crew, Warrant Officer O¡¯Brien, knew his job. James had had the opportunity to see for himself the day before. As soon as the simulation finished, O¡¯Brien ordered the flight deck cleared. And today, the technicians had even remembered to cover the engines. But his fighter¡¯s cockpit remained open. He forgot to close it in his haste. This was against all the regulations. James wondered if any senior officers had noticed and hoped that none had. There were only technicians in the hangar. One of them, Junior Technician Rajeev Dabir, standing on a moveable ladder at the rear of James¡¯s fighter, beckoned him over. ¡®Actually, all the systems are normal,¡¯ said he with his inimitable accent. ¡®The only problem is the device¡­¡¯ he uttered a series of numbers and letters that meant nothing to James. ¡®Well¡­ and?¡¯ James had not realised what the problem was. ¡®I need instructions.¡¯ ¡®Uh¡­¡¯ James expected nothing like this. ¡®Who has to give you these instructions? Me?¡¯ The Junior Technician nodded silently. ¡®Huh, I¡¯d give you instructions,¡¯ said James, ¡®if I had any idea what this thing was and why it was needed.¡¯ Something like a smile appeared on Dabir¡¯s face, which was immediately replaced by the previous, almost impassive expression. ¡®This is a backup unit that doesn¡¯t affect the main systems,¡¯ said he. ¡®Maybe there are no problems, but I¡¯m not sure.¡¯ ¡®What do you need to be sure?¡¯ asked James. ¡®There is a test programme, but I can¡¯t run it on our equipment.¡¯ ¡®So?¡¯ The Indian spread his hands. ¡®Up to you.¡¯ This answer stumped James. ¡®Is it possible to just replace this device and not sweat?¡¯ said he after a short pause. ¡®Yes, it¡¯s possible,¡¯ the technician nodded, ¡®but I need a justification.¡¯ ¡®Sorta?¡¯ ¡®If it turns out that it¡¯s faulty, I have to write a replacement request. But I need to point out exactly what is wrong.¡¯ ¡®Can¡¯t you just write that this device is faulty?¡¯ asked James, thoroughly confused. ¡®Mr Andrews¡­ the Technical Service Chief,¡¯ Dabir added, obviously marking James¡¯s expression when he heard the name. ¡®He¡¯ll definitely require clarification. He won¡¯t approve any replacement without it.¡¯ ¡®What the hell!¡¯ exclaimed James. Dabir said nothing. James looked around. There was no one to consult. Steve was in the cockpit of his fighter, talking to another technician about something. Jennings appeared in the depths of the hangar, but James did not want to deal with him now. ¡®¡­Well, what d¡¯you suggest?¡¯ ¡®There¡¯s the necessary equipment in the engineering compartment,¡¯ Dabir requested without any emotions, ¡®but I can¡¯t get away now.¡¯ ¡®Okay, can you do it later?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not sure I could make it by the deadline.¡¯ Having said that, Dabir looked at James in what seemed like a questioning manner. ¡®So what should I do?¡¯ James said to say something because he had no idea what to say. The technician shrugged. ¡®Nothing if you sign the diagnostic card.¡¯ ¡®What about the device?¡¯ ¡®I must point out some doubts.¡¯ ¡®There¡¯s no other way?¡¯ Dabir shook his head negatively. ¡®¡­So if I sign,¡¯ James continued, ¡®and ¨C¡¯ he paused. Dabir¡¯s expression did not change. ¡®The likelihood of the backup system being engaged during a training flight is extremely low,¡¯ said he. ¡®If Mr Andrews won¡¯t check every diagnostic card¡­¡¯ ¡®And he would?¡¯ asked James, secretly hoping for a negative answer. ¡®Maybe,¡¯ Dabir replied, ¡®but maybe not.¡¯ ¡®Holy shit!¡¯ James felt himself falling into a state of almost panic. He had never been in a similar situation before and had no idea how to escape. ¡®Sorry?¡¯ Dabir¡¯s calm voice snapped him out of his stupor. ¡®I mean, is there any way out?¡¯ ¡®I can remove the device,¡¯ the Indian returned in the same impassive tone. ¡®You can go to the engineering compartment and ask their staff to test it. If it¡¯s okay, I can put it back; if not, they can tell you what¡¯s wrong, and I can request a replacement.¡¯ ¡®Are they going to agree to do that? I mean ¨C¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know.¡¯ ¡®Bloody hell!¡¯ cried James, almost losing his patience. ¡®So what do I do?¡¯ ¡®Up to you,¡¯ followed the Indian¡¯s reply in the previously used tone. James looked around again. No one seemed to be paying any attention to their drawn-out dialogue. He was about to tell Dabir that he would sign the diagnostic card when he suddenly recollected Jennings¡¯s last words. ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ he made a decision. ¡®Gimme that fucking thing. Uh¡­ where¡¯s the engineering compartment?¡¯ ¡®J Deck¡­¡¯ The mystery device appeared to be a small plastic box with a connector. Putting it into the flight suit pocket, James set off to find the engineering compartment, which proved to be no easy task. As he descended the companionway, he recalled how he had almost gone astray on the first day had it not been for the help of an unknown senior crew officer. Now, these crew officers in their turquoise flight suits had come across him more than once, so there was someone to point the way, but he had no idea to whom he was going. Nobody was in the diagnostic lab next to the reactor control centre, where he was eventually sent. James had stopped just as he crossed the threshold. It was not the practice in the squadron¡¯s technical service to leave the access hatch open when no one stayed. Here, it seemed, everything was different. ¡®Looking for Marla?¡¯ He heard a voice behind him and turned. Behind him stood the same boy he had seen once before, on the day Flight Sergeant Rowling had ordered him, along with Steve and Lewis, to swab the deck. Wearing the Space Agency uniform, he was no different from the other crew members, except that he could not have been one of them due to his age. Glancing into the laboratory, the boy grinned. ¡®¡­Looks like she went to see her boyfriend as usual,¡¯ said he with a sly smile. ¡®I won¡¯t tell anyone, of course, but if Harris finds out¡­¡¯ ¡®Who you?¡¯ asked James, looking at the boy whose freckled face seemed almost childish. ¡®Peter Pan?¡¯ ¡®Nope, Oliver Stubbs.¡¯ ¡®And what are you doing here?¡¯ The boy shrugged and chuckled, ¡®Just passed by.¡¯ ¡®I mean, in the spacecraft.¡¯ ¡®Same as you, I suppose¡­¡¯ the boy chuckled again, ¡®or ya think if you can, others can¡¯t? You¡¯re not a passenger here either, huh?¡¯ ¡®You have a rank, too?¡¯ The boy nodded in confirmation. ¡®Specialist 3rd class,¡¯ said he, not without pride, his eyes slightly tilted at his right shoulder. James noticed an insignia patch on the boy¡¯s flight suit sleeve just above the elbow: a narrow stripe bisected by the stylised Greek letter Delta, embroidered in silver thread. ¡®¡­So why¡¯d you need Marla?¡¯ the boy went on in the same slightly jaunty tone. ¡®Honestly, I don¡¯t know whom I need,¡¯ said James. ¡®I just need to test¡­ something¡­¡¯ ¡®Precisely what?¡¯ ¡®A device.¡¯ ¡®Sorta?¡¯ ¡®This one,¡¯ James handed the box to Oliver. The boy took it, studying the markings carefully. ¡®It¡¯s a backup clock generator,¡¯ said he after a short pause. ¡®Why does it need to be tested?¡¯ ¡®Our technician doesn¡¯t sure that this generator, as you say, is working correctly.¡¯ Oliver shrugged. ¡®Big deal,¡¯ said he, ¡®just to replace it and all. Actually, I can¡¯t even imagine what could be wrong with it. There is a single-crystal structure inside. If it doesn¡¯t respond to a diagnostic impulse for some reason, this means nothing. There are a dozen of these in your fighter¡¯s systems.¡¯ ¡®How do you know?¡¯ ¡®¡­You can test it, of course,¡¯ Oliver went on as if he had not heard the question, ¡®but it¡¯s useless. If there¡¯s any doubt, it¡¯s better to replace it. Tell your technician that.¡¯ ¡®He says he needs to know clearly what the problem is. Otherwise, the Technical Service Chief won¡¯t approve the replacement.¡¯ Oliver laughed. ¡®Bureaucrat. Okay, let¡¯s go to the warehouse. There¡¯s a lot of such sorta stuff.¡¯ ¡®Are you sure they¡¯re compatible?¡¯ ¡®Absolutely. This is a standard piece of equipment used in many spacecraft. C¡¯mon.¡¯ And Oliver stepped down the corridor. James followed him more automatically than consciously. They reached the companionway, and James had stopped; Oliver waved to him. ¡®This way only leads to the upper decks. We need an elevator.¡¯ ¡®Looks like you know everything here,¡¯ James chuckled. Oliver snorted. ¡®Sure. The technical drawings of this spacecraft were hung over my bed when I was a kid.¡¯ James thought he had misheard. ¡®Huh?¡¯ ¡®What? I even learned to read with them.¡¯ ¡®I mean, where you got those ¨C¡¯ ¡®Not me, of course, Grandpa. He designed this spacecraft... well, and several others, as well as your fighters.¡¯ James even froze, never reaching the elevator. ¡®Your grandpa?¡¯ Oliver looked at him and tilted his head slightly to one side. ¡®Yeah, Walter Jefferies.¡¯ ¡®Walter Jefferies, is your grandpa?¡¯ James exclaimed in astonishment. He had heard the name of one of the leading designers of space technology more than once. ¡®What kinda problem?¡¯ Oliver was now clearly astonished at such a reaction. ¡®Hmm¡­ nothing¡­¡¯ The lift doors opened, and they both stepped inside. James had never been in a spacecraft lift before and was surprised by the strange lighting system. The light seemed to come from the ceiling itself. It looked unusual because the ceiling was covered by the same opaque plastic as the walls. Oliver must have noticed because James lifted his head to scan the ceiling. He chuckled. ¡®Cool, eh? The ceiling panel is coated with a special compound through which a weak electric current is passed, turning the panel into a light source. Grandpa wanted to do this everywhere, in the corridors, Sickbay, even the Main command centre. But it seemed too expensive to the Space Agency. So he limited it to the elevators. ¡®How did you get here?¡¯ asked James. ¡®What?¡¯ Oliver looked at him questioningly. ¡®I mean this spacecraft.¡¯ ¡®Ah, it could be saying, by chance. Colonel Montgomery became my guardian when my grandpa died and took me with him.¡¯ ¡®Montgomery?¡¯ ¡®Chief Flight Engineer. Ya don¡¯t know him?¡¯ ¡®Actually, it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard of him. And where¡¯re your parents?¡¯ ¡®They disappeared a long time ago.¡¯ ¡®Disappeared?¡¯ ¡®Without a trace. They were both science officers of Discovery ¨C the 6th deep space expedition ¨C which disappeared with all hands at the inner edge of the Oort cloud. I was only three at the time. I¡¯ve no memory of them at all. So I stayed with my grandma and grandpa. Grandma died of an incurable disease two years ago. Grandpa missed her very much; maybe that''s why he died soon.¡¯ ¡®Oh, I¡¯m sorry¡­¡¯ James suddenly felt awkward. Oliver looked at him slightly surprised. ¡®Sorry for?¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ for making you remember all this ¨C¡¯ ¡®C¡¯mon,¡¯ the boy smiled and waved his hand, ¡®that¡¯s all in the past.¡¯ ¡®How old are you?¡¯ ¡®Sixteen¡­¡¯ Oliver paused, hesitating for a second, most likely catching James¡¯s sceptical look. ¡®Soon,¡¯ he added, a little embarrassed, ¡®in September¡­¡¯ ¡®What year?¡¯ James said with a laugh. Oliver frowned. ¡®Well, the next one. What¡¯s so funny?¡¯ ¡®Nothing. I¡¯m just¡­ Wait, you still have to study at school.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯ve already finished school.¡¯ ¡®Finished?¡¯ The lift reached the deck they wanted, the doors opening noiselessly. ¡®Accelerated learning,¡¯ Oliver chuckled, ¡®six years instead of twelve. Well, seven, actually. I was only allowed after fifth grade to take sixth-grade exams and move on to high school. And at the high school, nobody really knew what to do with me, and they all were happy to get rid of me as quickly as possible.¡¯ ¡®Young prodigy?¡¯ ¡®Huh?¡¯ ¡®I mean super duper talented.¡¯ ¡®Not at all.¡¯ Oliver grinned. ¡®My grandpa was talented, there¡¯s no doubt, but I still have some struggles with tensor calculus.¡¯ ¡®Joking?¡¯ James still could not understand whether the boy was showing off or telling the truth. ¡®I don¡¯t even know what that is. Well, I know what that is, but that¡¯s all.¡¯ ¡®How did you study impulse motion theory?¡¯ ¡®I didn¡¯t. They had read us only the basic course and briefly. Sorta, the general idea we seem to have understood, but all the details are not for our average minds. Like, the fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence will do the rest by itself.¡¯ ¡®I see your point¡­¡¯ Oliver chuckled, nodded, and looked at James joyfully. ¡®So what are we still doing in the elevator? It¡¯s the last stop¡­¡¯ In the warehouse, as Oliver called the room, which looked like a pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters ¨C James even thought that their sleeping quarters could most likely have been such a warehouse before ¨C they met a guy of about twenty-five years of age, sombre and unshaven, it seemed, at least for a few days, whom Oliver introduced as Ben. There was no name patch or rank insignia on his overall, but a metal badge pinned crookedly: ¡®Payload Specialist¡¯. He immediately gave them off a similar device, asking Oliver ¡®to write it off¡¯, as he put it, ¡®somehow so that there was nothing sorta¡¯, accompanying his words with a strange gesture. What he was trying to say with that gesture remained unclear to James. ¡®Don¡¯t panic, I know the rules,¡¯ Oliver reassured him with a smile and waved to James, ¡®let¡¯s get back. By the way, if you want, I can put it in place myself. Otherwise, your technician might ask where it came from and so on.¡¯ ¡®The fighter¡¯s technical drawings were also hanging above your cradle?¡¯ James tried to tease. Oliver did not do a bit of eyebrow-raising. ¡®Nope, I made them,¡¯ said he. James froze again. ¡®You?¡¯ ¡®Figuratively speaking. Grandpa didn¡¯t like computers. He preferred the old-fashioned paper method, so I converted his paper engineering drawings into digital format. Not all of them, of course. The spacecraft drawings are too complicated, but a fighter is a simpler vehicle. In short, if you have any problems, just let me know¡­¡¯ Oliver was not showing off. He actually seemed to know as much about fighter systems as Dabir. He put the clock generator in place quickly and then had a long conversation with the Indian about something, so much so that Dabir ended up addressing the boy as ¡®Mr Stubbs¡¯, almost with respect. The second check revealed no malfunctions; James signed the diagnostic card and managed to report back to Jennings before the appointed time that both fighters were ready for tomorrow. The Flight Lieutenant chuckled sceptically but said nothing. Nevertheless, James left the commander¡¯s cabin in high spirits. But he had not gone more than a few steps when he encountered Rowling, who gestured for him to come over. ¡®What were you doing outside the squadron location?¡¯ she asked in her usual icy tone. James was even taken aback. ¡®I¡­ I had to go to the engineering compartment,¡¯ said he. ¡®What was the reason to go to the engineering compartment?¡¯ ¡®I was doing my official duties.¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ Rowling stared at him with her eyes wide open. ¡®My official duties, as I said, sir,¡¯ James replied. ¡®Got it, old owl?¡¯ he added mentally, barely keeping himself from saying it out loud. ¡®I have other information,¡¯ the Flight Sergeant did not seem to notice or pretended not to. ¡®You were seen having a completely off-duty conversation with a crew member.¡¯ ¡®Isn¡¯t that allowed?¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s not allowed to talk back to your superior,¡¯ said she strictly. ¡®You had no right to leave the squadron location without the permission of a senior officer or me.¡¯ ¡®I had to¡­ that¡¯s, I needed to test a faulty clock generator¡­¡¯ James had difficulty remembering the name of the device for which he had to justify himself to Rowling, ¡®¡­that could only be done in the engineering compartment.¡¯ ¡®You must justify the reason and get permission. And you must not engage in off-duty conversation with the crew. I am giving you a warning.¡¯ She turned around and headed towards her cabin. James cursed under his breath, barely keeping himself from saying the words out loud again. His mood, which had just improved, was sinking again. Rowling was really becoming the problem to solve. Chapter 4 A loud and prolonged siren sound echoed across the vast Flight Deck. James took off from where he was standing and was already running towards his fighter, which, for some reason, was not where he expected to find it. Moreover, he seemed to be running alone. Everyone else disappeared somewhere. He was already at the ladder, quickly climbed the steps, and lifted his right leg to enter the fighter¡¯s cockpit when he suddenly found out he was not wearing his spacesuit. ¡®I forgot to put it on!¡¯ flashed through his mind. He froze, standing with one foot on the top of the ladder and the other in the cockpit. And at that moment, he thought he could not run as fast and climb the stairs as quickly in a spacesuit. Upon examining himself, he discovered that he was not wearing a spacesuit but a tracksuit he had worn at home for a morning run. He thought it impossible, and then the Flight deck suddenly disappeared. A snow-covered hillside descending to the Menai Strait appeared before his eyes, with the outline of the Britannia Bridge beyond. However, the siren continued to ring in his ears. The sound was low at first, barely audible, but it grew and grew. It was almost like the day when all the global media reported the alien attack, and panic spread around the world. Only he remembered very clearly that he had heard the siren that day not on the Strait¡¯s shore but on his way to school, crossing the nearby car park. And it was autumn, not winter¡­ He thought it was impossible, and since it was impossible, it was¡­ just a dream? That was the dream, but James awoke the next moment and found himself lying on his bunk in the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters aboard the Endurance. However, the sound had not gone away after the dream; it continued, it seemed to him, louder and louder. James opened his eyes, sat up a little, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on his bunk, unzipping his sleeping bag. The siren was not in his head; it was coming from the ceiling speakers, and large letters shone brightly, almost full screen, on the intercom monitor: ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! These letters faded and reappeared, glowing in various shades of red. James slipped out his sleeping bag and reached for his flight suit on the top shelf. His sleeping bag slid down onto Steve, who was already on his feet. ¡®Sorry,¡¯ said James, pulling on his flight suit. It was not so easy to do this sitting on the top bunk, but he thought it would be faster. ¡®No problem.¡¯ Steve got rid of James¡¯s sleeping bag in one fell swoop and bent down to rummage under his own bunk. ¡®Fuck! Where¡¯re they?¡¯ ¡®Lost something?¡¯ ¡®My boots,¡¯ muttered Steve. ¡®Surprise, surprise¡­¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ James heard Lewis¡¯s voice and noticed his mate jumping down with his flight suit in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the A-Flight pilots rushing to get dressed and Sergeant Mike Hancock, already dressed, standing at the entrance hatch. ¡®Dutton said to expect the unexpected,¡¯ Steve replied. ¡®Sure?¡¯ asked Lewis. ¡®What else?¡¯ Steve finally found his boots, and now he tried to put them on one, jumping on one leg. ¡®I mean¡­ shit!¡¯ Lewis, hastily pulling on his flight suit, got tangled up in trouser legs. ¡®What if it¡¯s a real red alert?¡¯ ¡®Impossible. We¡¯re orbiting Neptune, remember? Okay, around Triton, but it¡¯s no matter; Triton itself is orbiting Neptune. Who was staring at that blue giant yesterday?¡¯ ¡®Training alert, for sure,¡¯ said James, lacing up his boots. ¡®Anyway, we¡¯d better hurry.¡¯ ¡®Attention all personnel¡­¡¯ a voice came from the loudspeaker above the intercom display. ¡®¡­A-Flight will assemble in Hangar 6, B-Flight in Hangar 8. Technical staff¡­¡¯ James ignored what followed. Finished dressing, he crossed the sleeping quarters in seconds and jumped into the corridor ahead of Sergeant Hancock. Steve and Lewis followed him. Not wanting to waste any time, they slid down the companionway railing, overtaking everyone else and were the first to run into the hangar, where they found the Flight commander, who had apparently been waiting for them beforehand. ¡®Excellent!¡¯ Squadron Leader Dutton turned off the stopwatch he had in his hand and looked around at his subordinates lined up before him. The all-clear signal was already sounding behind the gateway. ¡®¡­This time, you all broke your own record¡­¡¯ The Flight commander looked pleased. ¡®However, it¡¯s not a matter of gratitude because that''s how it should be. Right, Mr Hancock?¡¯ Mike ¨C the Flight veteran and oldest among the junior pilots ¨C nodded in agreement. ¡®Yes, sir. Just you three¡­¡¯ he nudged James lightly. ¡®I almost got knocked off my feet on the companionway. Be more careful next time.¡¯ ¡®Sorry, old man,¡¯ said Steve in a conciliatory tone. ¡®We hurried.¡¯ Jennings looked at him very sternly and seemed about to say something. Dutton raised his hand. ¡®Gentlemen, please discuss and resolve any internal conflicts later. I¡¯d like to take this opportunity to introduce today¡¯s mission, to give you time to think about ¨C¡¯ A crackling sound, sharp as gunshots, out the loudspeakers, interrupted the Flight commander, followed by a voice, ¡®Attention! Attention! All unit commanders are requested to report to squadron headquarters immediately.¡¯ Dutton raised his head and looked at the source of the sound. A surprised expression appeared on his face. ¡®What the hell?¡¯ he murmured very quietly. James did not even hear, only guessed what the commander was saying. Dutton turned back to the lineup, ¡®I assure you, this wasn¡¯t part of the training scenario. I don¡¯t know what happened, but just in case, I¡¯d like to ask you to refrain from continuing the night¡¯s rest. Anyway, reveille¡­¡¯ he glanced at his watch and continued, ¡®very soon, so ¨C¡¯ The loudspeaker wheezed again and repeated the announcement. Dutton gave the order to disperse and quickly left the hangar. ¡®What happened?¡¯ Lewis asked. ¡®We¡¯re under attack? Uh¡­ sir, what do you think?¡¯ He turned to Jennings, whose expression told James that the Flight Lieutenant wanted to know as much as the others why the Flight commander had been called to headquarters so suddenly and at such an inopportune time. He looked at his watch; it was half past five in the morning. ¡®You¡¯ll be informed at the appropriate time,¡¯ muttered the Section commander in an unhappy tone. ¡®Take better care of your appearance. Your uniforms are wrinkled, and your boots are dusty! And what¡¯s the manner to run like a flock of sheep!¡¯ ¡®We¡­ hurried, sir ¨C¡¯ Steve began but promptly felt silent under the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s gaze. ¡®Even if you¡¯re in a hurry, you have to follow the regulations,¡¯ he snapped and went out to the corridor. Steve shrugged in confusion and said, ¡®What happened to him?¡¯ ¡®Haven¡¯t you noticed?¡¯ Hancock replied quietly, almost in a whisper, then continued a little louder with a barely perceptible grin, ¡®he came last¡­¡¯ he chuckled, ¡®¡­neglected and apart.¡¯ The Sergeant continued in a full voice, ¡®Dutton certainly hasn¡¯t lost sight of that. I¡¯ve known him for a long time. He doesn¡¯t miss a thing. But you three could have been more careful on the companionway. One of you kicked me in the knee so hard it still hurts.¡¯ ¡®Sorry, old man, we didn¡¯t do it on purpose,¡¯ said James, suspecting that his boot had brushed the Sergeant¡¯s knee as they slid down along the railings. The blow seemed to be sensitive; Mike was still limping slightly. ¡®So what¡¯s happened anyway?¡¯ His question remained unanswered. The Sergeant patted him on the shoulder and nodded, indicating that the incident was over, but said nothing. The corridors quickly emptied. All the pilots were stretching towards their sleeping quarters. They were all discussing why all the unit commanders had suddenly been summoned to headquarters but in low voices, occasionally glancing at the junior officers who seemed to have a discussion about the same problem, only in their circle. James thought that if the enemy appeared, the alert should have been announced throughout the spacecraft, and if not, the reason was probably something else. Walking up the companionway to the living deck, he felt someone tug on his sleeve. ¡®Hi! Guess what? We¡¯ve got a new mission!¡¯ James turned around. Oliver was standing behind him. They had not seen each other since the day the boy had helped James with the broken clock generator. He was a little surprised that Oliver acted like they were old friends. ¡®New mission?¡¯ he mumbled darkly. ¡®We were assigned to lead a patrol ¨C¡¯ Oliver went on as if he had noticed nothing. ¡®I know,¡¯ James interrupted. ¡®¡­Well, and now we have to escort a transport craft to 2032 RV17, unofficially Ultima Thule,¡¯ the boy continued cheerfully, still not paying attention to James¡¯s clearly expressed mood. ¡®What happened there?¡¯ James had no idea what those numbers meant, but his gloomy mood slowly dissipated. Oliver¡¯s behaviour was even beginning to amuse him. ¡®Nothing happened,¡¯ the boy replied. ¡®Just the Joint Command plans to deploy a detector array on the orbit of the minor component.¡¯ ¡®Which orbit?¡¯ ¡®Well, it¡¯s a binary system¡­¡¯ Oliver began with meaning in his voice. ¡®¡­Two planetoids orbit around a common ¨C¡¯ ¡®I know what a binary system is,¡¯ James interrupted him again, snorting. Oliver paid no attention again. ¡®Smart boy¡­¡¯ he patted James on the shoulder. ¡®In short, because this system is almost at aphelion, it¡¯s now the most distant solar system object. I mean a known object ¨C¡¯ ¡®Are there still unknowns?¡¯ ¡®Probably a ton,¡¯ Oliver grinned. ¡®The last one was found only five years ago by the 8th expedition. In short, because these planetoids are now farthest from the Sun, a detector array in their orbit would be able to monitor the space not just within the Solar System but also within a radius of about two thousand astronomical units outside it. So it¡¯s going to be a sorta early warning system. That¡¯s where we¡¯re going when the transport arrives. Wanna look at the detailed map, let¡¯s go. ¡®Whereto?¡¯ ¡®Better to the crew mess, it¡¯s open round the clock.¡¯ ¡®Why did you get up so early?¡¯ ¡®I didn¡¯t. I had the night shift¡­ Come on,¡¯ Oliver added because James was not moving. ¡®Will they let me in? I mean your messroom.¡¯ Oliver looked at him, a little surprised. ¡®Why not? We¡¯ve no restrictions. I can go to the officers¡¯ mess on C deck and anywhere.¡¯ ¡®Even the main command centre?¡¯ James asked with some doubt. Oliver looked at him again and said with a tone of importance in his voice, ¡®Nobody goes to the main command centre without a reason¡­ Well, shall we go?¡¯ he added after a short pause. James thought that he had wanted to get a better look at the spacecraft for a long time and followed the boy. The crew mess on E deck was almost identical to the squadron mess. And Oliver was right ¨C no one asked the Space Force pilot what he was doing there. But the eating was no better. The cottage cheese pudding James took had none of its usual flavour. Oliver switched on his tablet and unfolded a virtual screen that displayed a star map. ¡®Look¡­¡¯ he pointed to two bright points almost in the middle of the screen, ¡®those are our planetoids. Cool, right?¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s cool?¡¯ ¡®Look at the distance marker. Not so many people have ever been so far away from Earth.¡¯Stolen story; please report. James took a closer look. The distance, expressed in astronomical units, was a four-digit number. ¡®Anyway, it¡¯s within the Solar System,¡¯ said he. ¡®You mean the Hill Sphere? Yeah¡­.¡¯ the boy sighed with obvious regret. ¡®We won¡¯t even go beyond the Kuiper Belt¡­ I mean in fact. According to the latest calculations, the boundary of the outer belt seems to be further away than previously thought. And we won¡¯t have to use full impulse speed ¨C¡¯ ¡®Where should we be going?¡¯ James interrupted Oliver¡¯s strange jeremiad, wondering how the boy could know about the Joint Command¡¯s plans and many other things that were completely unknown to him. Oliver looked at him with slight surprise. ¡®You really don¡¯t know?¡¯ ¡®Well, I mean¡­ the combat zone ¨C¡¯ Oliver grinned and nodded again. ¡®Actually, there is no such zone,¡¯ said he. ¡®Huh?¡¯ The boy chuckled. ¡®This is outer space, not the Gettysburg Fields,¡¯ he said. ¡®As you should know, after the attack on the Lunar Orbiter, these aliens or¡­ I don¡¯t know who they were destroyed Magellan, Scott Sheppard Space Telescope, and an uncrewed cargo craft carrying supplies and equipment for the Tenth Outer Space Expedition; all the others were hastily withdrawn. After a long discussion, a patrol line beyond Mars¡¯s orbit was organised. I mean, not a real line, of course, just a ¨C¡¯ ¡®I know,¡¯ said James. The boy nodded. ¡®A bit later,¡¯ he continued, ¡®Joint Command decided ¨C¡¯ ¡®I know about that too,¡¯ James interrupted him. ¡®Amazing!¡¯ Oliver exclaimed and continued with a smile, ¡®In short, Protector assigned to escort the transport craft with the second part of the detector array was not completely ready, so we were assigned to escort it.¡¯ ¡®How do you know that?¡¯ asked James, still wondering where the boy could have gotten such information. Oliver raised an eyebrow in surprise. ¡®I think everyone already knows,¡¯ said he. ¡®Isn¡¯t that classified information?¡¯ Oliver gave James another slightly confused look and laughed. ¡®Huh, got it! You¡¯re military,¡¯ he said condescendingly, ¡®everything is classified for you, even things that aren¡¯t. And what¡¯s the point? The enemy¡¯s early warning systems are much more advanced than ours anyway. Maybe they already see us. Of course, you¡¯d find nothing about this on the news. Sorta, let¡¯s people think that war is going somewhere so, so far away.¡¯ ¡®And you?¡¯ ¡®I?¡¯ Oliver looked at James with a strange expression. ¡®Well, I mean ¨C¡¯ Now the boy seemed to have guessed because he nodded. ¡®You think I have to shake like a leaf?¡¯ he laughed. ¡®You don¡¯t shake, eh?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m military, as you just noted,¡¯ James responded. The boy nodded again and tapped his tablet for some unknown reason. ¡®I¡¯m in service too, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡¯ said he. ¡®By the way, Grandpa said if you¡¯re afraid, you should wrap yourself in a white sheet and crawl towards the nearest cemetery. But honestly, I don¡¯t want to go there. On the other hand, after those aliens attacked the station in Moon orbit... I wanna say it doesn¡¯t matter where we are¡­¡¯ he shrugged. ¡®I think so¡­ Okay, go on, finish eating and I¡¯m going. I¡¯m already sleepy-eyed, but I have to study for my exam.¡¯ ¡®Exam?¡¯ ¡®To be certified to work with the engineering systems, you must pass a qualifying exam.¡¯ ¡®D¡¯you need it?¡¯ ¡®Huh, that¡¯s interesting. Hope you can find your way back on your own.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯ll try¡­¡¯ James did not get lost and returned to the squadron location ¨C as Flight Sergeant Rowling called it ¨C in time for a shower before morning formation. The Squadron commander did not turn up this time, and Squadron Leader King said nothing about the change of plans. He just scheduled a regular training flight for an hour later and left. If the senior officers knew what Oliver had told James, they did not show it. James was tempted to share his information with Steve and the other fellows, but thinking a bit, he said nothing. Besides, there was not much time. An hour before the training flight, he had to get a flight plan, make a control check, and enter the plan details into the on-board computer. Section 2, under the command of Flight Lieutenant Jennings, was ordered to start first. The Flight commander and his wingman started after them, followed by Mike and Kevin. For the second time in recent days, James felt a moment of fear, accompanied by an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, familiar from training flights in lunar orbit, as his fighter broke away from the launch rail and appeared to begin falling. In a sense, it was. Every object in space is in a constant state of falling. His sensation was one of almost instantaneous weight loss. The fighters were not equipped with an artificial gravity system. With a well-rehearsed movement, he activated the programme. The fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence started the manoeuvring thrusters and steered the vehicle away from the spaceship, following the flight plan. Neptune appeared before his eyes in all its glory. A giant blue ball appeared on the virtual screen of the pilot¡¯s helmet as soon as the fighter went up over the spacecraft, which was now over the side of Triton facing the giant planet. Closer to one of the planet¡¯s poles, a large dark spot was clearly visible, even at a range of more than 350,000 kilometres separating Neptune from its largest moon. James remembered his physics teacher at school telling them that the first dark spot in Neptune¡¯s atmosphere had been discovered by the Voyager 2 spacecraft at the end of the twentieth century. That spot had soon disappeared, but over the past hundred years or so, similar spots, large and small, appeared not once. This spot James was looking at now was the fifteenth in a row. Not that he was impressed by all this extraterrestrial beauty, but it was fun to watch the changing atmosphere of a giant planet. Squadron Leader Dutton did not give him much time. He ordered the B-Flight to reorganise into battle formation, maintaining their orbital position. For some time, they moved in the same orbit as the spacecraft. A few minutes later, the next order followed ¨C to set a course for Triton. According to the flight plan, they had to move to a lower orbit, reorganise again, now in marching order, and only then return to Endurance. The second phase was more difficult. The fighter was mainly under on-board artificial intelligence control, but the pilot had plenty to do. James immediately forgot about Neptune and its spots. His eyes followed the constantly changing numbers on the virtual screen. He did not even immediately hear the general call signal, and only then did he realise what the buzzer meant. ¡®¡­done, gentlemen¡­¡¯ the voice of the Flight Commander came to him. Most likely, Dutton said, ¡®Well done.¡¯ ¡®¡­go ahead with the plan, but make some changes,¡¯ the commander went on. ¡®Once in orbit, disperse by the Gamma 6 plan and meet at the point¡­¡¯ He dictated the coordinates; James entered new data into the on-board computer. ¡®¡­B-one, out.¡¯ Dutton¡¯s voice fell silent. This seemed to be the surprise the Flight commander had warned about a few days ago. The first training flight had gone according to plan. James felt a shiver run down his spine. Now it was just a matter of orienting themselves to the navigation stars and calculating the course to the rendezvous point with the rest of the fighters and, just in case, with Endurance, considering that the spacecraft in synchronous orbit would make about a quarter of a turn around Triton during that time. During training in lunar orbit, a similar manoeuvre was practised twenty times on simulators before the cadets were allowed to perform it in reality. Just then, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lewis¡¯s fighter had somehow swerved to the side and pressed the communications button. ¡®Bravo 7 to 6. You¡¯re off course. Check your ¨C¡¯ Jennings¡¯s voice cut him off, ¡®Bravo 5 to Bravo 7, stand down!¡¯ ¡®Er¡­ sir¡­ I¡¯m¡­ er¡­Lewis¡¯s strained voice came to James, accompanied by someone else''s, almost immediately covered by the Flight commander¡¯s voice. ¡®Attention, everyone! This is B-one speaking. Stop chatting! Bravo 6, report!¡¯ There was silence for a few seconds, and then Lewis¡¯s voice broke through the indistinct rustling and creaking. ¡®¡­aim¡­¡¯ Static from the planet¡¯s radiation belt drowned out his voice. But now James could see with his own eyes a thin stream coming out of the hull of Fighter 6, just below the cockpit. Nothing like that had ever happened before. He completely forgot what kind of systems were in that part of the fighter and could not imagine what it could mean. ¡®¡­losing¡­poop¡­orientat¡­¡¯ Lewis¡¯s voice broke through the static again, now not just tense, but rather frightened. And there was something to be afraid of. James could see that the Bravo 6 fighter was beginning to spin, and the spin seemed out of control. Having already switched off the transmitter, he flicked the switch again. ¡®Bravo 7 to, Bravo 6 turned¡­ er¡­ spinning¡­¡¯ he said, noticing his voice trembling. ¡®Stop flapping,¡¯ the Section commander snapped, against all regulations. ¡®I¡¯m seeing,¡¯ he added; in his voice, even distorted by the interference, James sensed something unusual, disturbing, and completely uncharacteristic. Suddenly, he felt a chill run through his body, an icy chill as if he had been thrown overboard without a spacesuit. His hands became clammy; any kind of movement was difficult. The Flight commander¡¯s voice in the headset sounded like Squadron Leader Dutton shouting from somewhere far, billions of miles away, ¡®Bravo One to Control, Emergency! I repeat, emergency!¡¯ James did not catch what he said next. His ears were ringing. He thought he had to pull himself together. No matter what happens, there are specific protocols for everything. But he could not remember of any appropriate in this situation. ¡®Attention, Bravo One speaking. Bravo 2, 3, 4, 7 and 8 are ordered to return to base. Bravo 3 is in charge. Bravo One, over.¡¯ ¡®Roger, Bravo One,¡¯ Sergeant Hancock reacted immediately. His voice was absolutely calm as if nothing unusual was happening. ¡®Bravo 2, 4, 7 and 8 use backup frequency. Bravo 3, out.¡¯ Gathering his will into a fist, James brought his left hand to the panel and changed the settings. A noticeable click in the headset confirmed the change in frequency. At that moment, Hancock¡¯s voice rang out. ¡®Bravo 3, comms check. Report as you hear, over.¡¯ ¡®I hear well¡­ em¡­ Bravo 4, over.¡¯ James identified Kevin¡¯s voice and repeated his transmission. ¡®¡­What¡¯s next?¡¯ he added because Hancock was silent. ¡®Maybe we should stay?¡¯ This was Steve¡¯s voice. ¡®Who is this speaking? Identify yourself!¡¯ James had no doubt that Hancock had uttered these words. Only now, the Sergeant¡¯s voice sounded commanding in a way it never had before. ¡®Bravo 8. I just wanna ¨C¡¯ Steve started again. Hancock cut him off. ¡®The word is given, Bravo 8. Bravo 7, what have you got there, a Robin Hood band?¡¯ ¡®No, sir.¡¯ James tried to keep Steve from saying too much. However, he also doubted if they should leave Lewis and Jennings, whose fighter was doing strange somersaults, turning the engines on and off as it approached the spinning Bravo 6. Sergeant Hancock¡¯s voice appeared in headphones again, ¡®Bravo 3 to Bravo 7, re-organising according to plan¡­ er¡­Well, follow me, repeat everything from A to Z. Acknowledge.¡¯ ¡®Roger, Bravo 3. Bravo 8, stand by. Keep the channel open, Bravo 7, over.¡¯ ¡®Wilco, old man,¡¯ Steve reacted immediately. ¡®Repeat all Bravo 3 manoeuvres from A to Z, keeping the channel open. Bravo 8, out.¡¯ James wondered how his wingman had pulled himself together so quickly. He had to do the same thing that was not so easy. Now, it was urgently necessary to focus on controlling the fighter because the artificial intelligence needed more instructions from the pilot in such a situation. He felt himself going from cold to feverish, probably from tension. Numbers spun around in his head, which he had to divide and multiply instantly as his hands moved along the control panel, changing the power of the manoeuvring thrusters according to the speed of movement in space, which was the noticeable difference between atmospheric flight and space flight. He did not breathe a sigh of relief until the navigational indicator signalled that the course was set, and the sustainer thrusters switched on for a fraction of a second, giving the fighter the necessary acceleration. He did not manage to fit directly into the tail of the leading Bravo 3, but he thought that was not so important. What was going on with Lewis¡¯s fighter worried him the most. He even wanted to switch the receiver back to the previous frequency and listen to the conversations between the Flight commander and others, but there was no time. Suddenly, an unfamiliar object appeared on the left side of the virtual screen. From the outline, James guessed it was a transport craft ¨C probably the same one Oliver had told him about this morning ¨C and it had come at the worst possible moment. The distance was still long, but the speed of any object in space was also significant. It became clear that the trajectory of the five fighters would intersect with that of the transport craft. For some reason, perhaps preoccupied with an emergency, Mission Control forgot to warn them of the transport craft¡¯s approach. Or James lost contact with Mission Control when he changed frequencies. ¡®Attention, Bravo 3 speaking. Vector change: thirty degrees, elevation fifteen, out,¡¯ Sergeant Hancock had caught on at the last moment, but a new problem had arisen. James noticed that Steve¡¯s fighter was suddenly accelerating, moving further and further away from the course set by their Five¡¯s commander. ¡®Bravo 3 to 8, what are you¡­¡¯ The Sergeant continued, but James no longer heard him. The hull of the transport craft suddenly covered most of the virtual screen. He made a mistake and lost sight of the craft without following Hancock¡¯s instructions. It seemed to him that he had done everything necessary, but it turned out that he had done nothing; the fighter continued on the same course. He only had a few seconds to think, and they passed quickly. He was thrown back into the heat. Barely in control of his actions, he grabbed the joystick and pulled. Nothing happened, nothing at all. His fighter continued to move in a straight line directly towards the transport craft. James was thrown back into a state of fever, and only then he realised that nothing should have happened. A stupid mistake cost him those few seconds. The aft manoeuvring thruster was what he had to do: start the aft manoeuvring thruster and only then move the joystick, which would divert the plasma flow and force the fighter to change direction. His hand shook, but he managed to engage the thruster, pull the joystick back, and immediately disengage it, but that was enough. The hull of the transport craft went down and disappeared, and Triton reappeared in James¡¯s helmet-view screen. Now, he had to cancel the impulse to change direction. Otherwise, the fighter would describe the loop and end up where it was not supposed to be. He achieved this, only guessing at the last moment to use the main engine to keep the fighter in orbit and avoid falling into the blue giant¡¯s largest moon gravitational pull. The fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence did the rest, keeping it in orbit. James breathed a sigh of relief. ¡®Bravo 3 to Bravo 7, what was that?¡¯ Sergeant Hancock¡¯s voice came into James¡¯s headphones. He did not respond immediately, still under the influence of what had happened. ¡®Hmm¡­ I¡¯m wrong¡­ commander¡­¡¯ ¡®Wilco¡­¡¯ There was no emotion in the Sergeant¡¯s voice. ¡®¡­As a result, we are now almost in antiphase with the spacecraft,¡¯ he continued. ¡®Looks like I was wrong, too. Let¡¯s hope the control doesn¡¯t notice. Otherwise, I don¡¯t even know how they would meet us. ¡®I doubt that with flowers,¡¯ said James, leaning back in the pilot¡¯s seat. What he wanted most now was to feel the grip of the landing rail on the Flight Deck ¡­ ¡­ but it did not happen soon. Having made the necessary calculations, Mike Hancock ordered his party into high orbit, where they would have to wait more than eight hours for the Endurance to complete a full revolution around Neptune¡¯s largest moon to synchronise speed and landing. Sergeant Hancock contacted the group several more times, among other things, to report that a large shuttle had been sent from Endurance to take Lewis¡¯s damaged fighter in tow. James had never observed the towing of a spaceship by another before, and he still had not done so now. They were too far away from the crash site. The external view cameras had long since lost sight of the remaining fighters, and only a few dots could be distinguished on the sensors, almost merging into one spot. Mission Control called them again only once. The impassive voice, to whom it belonged ¨C he was unaware ¨C gave the order to wait for permission to land. The cantaloupe terrain of Triton floated left. Neptune hung overhead. The sensor data seemed extraordinary. It took a few minutes for James to guess that these signals were coming from the Adams ring, the farthest of the planet¡¯s six rings, made up, like all the others, of interplanetary dust and ice and thus almost invisible to the human eye, and only from close range. He even thought he was dozing off when, after a long wait, he finally got the order to prepare for a landing approach. Chapter 5 They had come in one by one for a landing and had waited while the technicians moved each of the next fighter craft into the hangars underneath the Flight deck. Before he was cleared to land, James had to fire the manoeuvring thrusters and circle the spacecraft hull. The reason for that became clear to him when his fighter finally touched down and caught the arresting gear. The outside cameras picked up Lewis¡¯s fighter standing almost in the middle of the Flight deck hangar, with a hole about twenty by twenty centimetres in its port side below the cockpit. He could only guess what had happened. James had had time to notice the outward-curving edges of the hull. And it was only now that he felt an unbelievable fatigue that pinned him to the chair, much more than the artificial gravity had been switched on as the outer gateway closed, and the hangar was completely sealed. He felt his eyes closing by themselves as if he had not slept for more than a day. Traditional post-flight debriefing was very short. Dutton said nothing about the incident that almost happened with the transport craft. James assumed that either his mistake had not been noticed against the background of the accident with Lewis¡¯s fighter or that everything was still to come. But there was no way to confirm or refute this assumption. As for the accident, the Command did not want to share any information with the pilots. Even the unit commanders, if they knew anything, kept quiet. Lewis, as Dabir said, was sent to sickbay immediately after landing. Steve tried to find out more about him but got another reprimand from Rowling. When James returned to their sleeping quarters, he found almost all of his roommates were there in full force. Only two were absent. The others were sitting around the table, trying to figure out what had happened during the training flight. James entered when Mike Hancock was talking about Lewis¡¯s fighter. He, too, seemed to have noticed the nature of the damage to the fighter¡¯s hull. ¡®¡­A micrometeoroid?¡¯ Wil interrupted Mike questioningly. This pilot of A-Flight was known to James only by his name. ¡®Well-well, bad shot,¡¯ the Sergeant laughed. ¡®A micrometeoroid would have had to pierce the hull. Multiply the velocity by the speed of the fighter. You needn¡¯t know any advanced math to calculate the impact force. This is the first thing. Secondly, in this case, the edges would be concave inwards.¡¯ ¡®Yep, you¡¯re right,¡¯ Wil tapped the table with his fingertips. ¡®What then? Some sorta of manoeuvring thruster malfunction? Maybe¡­¡¯ ¡®Where¡¯s the manoeuvring thruster,¡¯ Kevin interjected, ¡®and where¡¯s that hole? The manoeuvring thruster has nothing to do with it ¨C¡¯ ¡®Exactly,¡¯ Mike chimed in. ¡®Plus, to blow a hole in a fighter¡¯s hull, whether from the outside or the inside, the impact has to be very powerful. This composite material was developed based on research into the wreckage of enemy vehicles found on the moon¡¯s surface after their first attack.¡¯ ¡®Is it the same one where a pilot¡¯s chair was found without a pilot?¡¯ Steve asked. ¡®Well, that too,¡¯ Wil said before Mike. ¡®They actually found the wreckage of two different devices. They studied both for a long time and were able to partially reconstruct the design, which was then copied for our fighters ¨C¡¯ ¡®Actually not,¡¯ Mike held up his hand, stopping Wil¡¯s monologue. ¡®The design of our fighters is based on developments from the Second Cold War. Or maybe even the First. There were two or three American projects and our ¨C I mean, British ¨C Skylon. Well, and others I can¡¯t remember. The main problem was that a vehicle had to be able to take off and land like a conventional atmospheric aircraft, but operate outside the atmosphere. Until the compact version of the Cooper engine appeared, all attempts failed. It was necessary to have an additional launch vehicle for ascent or a booster rocket like the first space shuttles. Both made launching much more complicated and much more expensive. Using such vehicles on a mass scale was not profitable.¡¯ ¡®Is it possible to take off from the Earth¡¯s surface with the Cooper engine?¡¯ Wil shook his head in doubt. ¡®Impossible,¡¯ said Mike. ¡®The Cooper engine only functions in a vacuum. Even to take off from Mars, you need a conventional turbojet. The prototype took off like an atmospheric fighter jet with a turbojet engine, and the Cooper engine kicked in at the edge of the Earth¡¯s atmosphere.¡¯ ¡®There are no turbojets on our fighters,¡¯ Kevin said. Mike nodded in agreement. ¡®We don¡¯t need them. We fly outside the atmosphere anyway. And in fact, I wouldn¡¯t advise you to take your fighter into any atmosphere. Unlike the orbital shuttles, our fighters do not have a special coating to withstand high temperatures. It was on the prototype. But the production fighters are built without it. Firstly, it adds weight, and secondly, it adds cost. So what¡¯s the point? We start from the carrier spacecraft anyway.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh, unless we have to retreat to Earth,¡¯ muttered Ethan, Wil¡¯s usually silent bunk neighbour. James had not yet had a chance to communicate with him and knew him only by name. ¡®Are you joking?¡¯ Mike reacted similarly. ¡®Better not. Really, if it comes to that, we¡¯d be dead by then. And that¡¯s no joke at all. But we digress a little ¨C¡¯ ¡®I can¡¯t understand,¡¯ Steve interjected. ¡®If the design and all the systems are so super reliable, what could cause an accident?¡¯ ¡®Super reliable?¡¯ Mike snorted contemptuously. ¡®In reality, there is nothing like that. The probability of failure might be very low, but it always exists. Combining alien technology with our own isn¡¯t so easy anyway. Besides, there have been a lot of accidents with atmospheric aircraft. Check the history of aeronautics. How many accidents have there been since the Wright brothers? Louis Bl¨¦riot died in an accident ¨C¡¯ ¡®Huh, now you¡¯ve found a mare¡¯s nest!¡¯ said Wil laughed and continued admonishingly, ¡®Louis Bl¨¦riot died of a heart attack in his bed at about sixty. Look in any encyclopaedia.¡¯ ¡®Okay, okay, I¡¯m wrong,¡¯ Mike waved him off. ¡®Anyway, the list is long. Apollo 13, for example, space shuttle Challenger ¨C¡¯ ¡®Apollo 13 hasn¡¯t crashed,¡¯ Ethan objected. ¡®They just couldn¡¯t land on the moon.¡¯ ¡®Yeah¡­¡¯ Mike nodded, ¡®due to a serious accident that almost cost them their lives. Well, what else have we got? Columbia broke up on re-entry, two Russian spacecraft came back with dead bodies; the Chinese had setbacks too, and finally, the Big Moon Bummer ¨C¡¯ ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ ¡®I mean the second attempt to return to the Moon when everything turned upside down. But we digress again.¡¯ ¡®C¡¯mon, it¡¯s like reading tea leaves¡­¡¯ James had no desire to listen any longer. Lights out was approaching, according to the on-board clock; he climbed into his bunk. Nevertheless, as on his first night aboard Endurance, he tossed and turned for a long time, unanswered questions running through his mind. He expected to be called by the Flight Commander or even the Squadron Commander, but nobody called him. The deputy squadron commander, Squadron Leader King, announced at the morning formation the indefinite suspension of training flights and a full background check on all fighters without going into details. The inspection was to be carried out by the technical staff. Pilots have plenty of free time. They wandered aimlessly around the hangar, occasionally discussing the incident. Squadron Leader Dutton did not appear in the hangar. Flight Lieutenant Jennings wandered gloomier than a cloud among the fighters, saying nothing to anyone, just brushing off questions. Before dinner, there was a rumour that a special commission had been set up to investigate the Bravo 6 incident. Dabir informed James of this in his usual, completely impassive manner, as if what had happened had nothing to do with the technician. James even wondered what had to happen to evoke an emotion in the Indian¡¯s face. Unlike usual, the lunchtime junior staff mess was almost dead quiet, broken only by the rustling of packaging and the barely audible chewing of pilots¡¯ and technicians¡¯ jaws. James and Steve, Kevin and Mike Hancock, sitting at the same table as usual, did not exchange a word either. It was only at the very end that Steve suddenly perked up. ¡®Look, men,¡¯ said he, ¡®let¡¯s go to Sickbay and see how Lewis is, shall we? They¡¯re still not telling us anything about him. It¡¯s a bad sign.¡¯ The idea was immediately supported by silent nods. A short part of the afternoon was relatively free for the pilots of B-Flight. Flight Sergeant Rowling had once explained to James quite clearly they could only leave the squadron base with her permission or that of a senior officer. But neither of them was going to show up. Jennings¡¯s cabin door was closed, as were the doors to the other commanders¡¯ cabins. ¡®We¡¯ve got a good and very human reason. I don¡¯t think we need to ask permission,¡¯ Sergeant Hancock resolved the problem as a senior in rank. ¡®If Rowling starts to nag, send her to me. I¡¯ll make things clear to her.¡¯ They reached the sickbay without incident. Hancock knew where to go and how to get there, and James had become quite familiar with that part of the spacecraft over the past few weeks. The problem occurred when they got to the entrance hatch, which appeared to be locked. All four froze for a few seconds, exchanging confused glances. Finally, the Sergeant made up his mind and was about to call the hatch began to open as if by itself. How and why this happened became clear at once. Dr Kirkpatrick appeared behind the hatch as it opened. She looked at the four pilots lined up in a semicircle with a slightly surprised expression and raised her left eyebrow slightly. ¡®Please don¡¯t tell me you all got sick together,¡¯ she said slightly ironically. ¡®No¡­ er¡­ sir ¨C¡¯ Mike began, but did not finish. The brave Space Force Sergeant, facing the senior officer of the Space Agency, seemed at a loss. James squeezed in between him and Steve. ¡®Hi, Dr Jessica,¡¯ he said. ¡®Actually, we¡¯d like to see Lewis¡­ I mean, Astronaut Second Class Blackwo ¨C¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick smiled. ¡®Came to see your friend? Yes, of course. And you¡¯re James, I presume?¡¯ He nodded. The doctor laughed. ¡®That means, my memory serves well,¡¯ said she. ¡®As for your friend, I have to say he only has a slight concussion. I hope to write him out tomorrow, so¡­¡¯ ¡®Well, maybe¡­ just for a few minutes ¨C¡¯ James began; she waved her hand again. ¡®No problem if you want, but not altogether, just one or two of you. This is a sickbay, not Grand Central.¡¯ ¡®Okay, James and Steve,¡¯ Hancock made a quick decision. ¡®Kevin and I will wait here.¡¯ ¡®Well, come in,¡¯ the doctor stepped aside and let them both enter the hatch. Lewis looked much better than James had expected, but his face was pale. When he saw his friends he tried to stand up. ¡®How¡¯re you?¡¯ asked Steve. ¡®I¡¯m okay¡­¡¯ Lewis¡¯s voice sounded weak, but not like the voice of a seriously injured. ¡®¡­Doc said I just had a slight concussion. When the fighter started to spin around, the straps gave way and I was thrown out of the chair. Thank God I was wearing a helmet; otherwise my brains would have splattered all over the cockpit. Have they found out what happened? ¡®They told us nothing,¡¯ said James. ¡®What d¡¯you remember?¡¯ ¡®Just that I rolled over.¡¯ ¡®What does that mean ¨C rolled over?¡¯ Lewis shook his head and grimaced, obviously in pain. ¡®That means upside down,¡¯ he said. ¡®I wanna say a hundred and eighty degrees.¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ have you seen anything before that? Your fighter couldn¡¯t have just rolled over without any reason.¡¯ Lewis sighed sadly and shrugged. ¡®There was nothing,¡¯ said he and sighed sadly again. ¡®In a sense, everything was going as usual, and suddenly ¨C bang ¨C everything started to spin before my eyes ¨C¡¯If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡®I see,¡¯ James interrupted his mate, thinking that nothing was clear to him yet. The cause of the accident was still a mystery, and Lewis¡¯s words were no help in solving it. ¡®I guess I have to write a report,¡¯ Lewis continued, ¡®but I don¡¯t know what to write.¡¯ ¡®Report?¡¯ Steve looked at Lewis, puzzled. ¡®The incident ¨C¡¯ Lewis swayed slightly as if suddenly dizzy and grabbed the bedrail. ¡®Enough¡­¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick appeared behind them, interrupting the conversation delicately but insistently. James thought to himself, either she noticed what was going on with her patient, or the rules did limit the length of a visit. ¡®He needs to stay here for a while,¡¯ she continued, ¡®and you two have other things to do, right?¡¯ ¡®No problem, Dr Jessica,¡¯ said James. ¡®Thank you.¡¯ He waved a friendly hand at Lewis, ¡®Get well soon.¡¯ They all left Sickbay in a less depressed mood. There was no need to worry about Lewis; he was on the mend. ¡®That¡¯s the main thing,¡¯ as Sergeant Hancock said. Flight Sergeant Rowling was fortunately not on their way, but Jennings appeared in the corridor as the four passed through the hatch to the living quarters. The Section commander¡¯s expression spoke volumes. He nodded briefly to Mike and Kevin and made an expressive gesture to James and Steve. ¡®My cabin,¡¯ he snapped. ¡®Both, now!¡¯ They had to obey. ¡®Report!¡¯ the Section commander said, shutting the door behind him. Silence reigned for a while. James had no idea what the Flight Lieutenant was talking about, and neither did Steve, it was his impression. ¡®Report what, sir?¡¯ he said after a long pause. ¡®Report me on the bloody acrobatic stunts you performed in space,¡¯ said Jennings angrily. ¡®But first of all, I want to know what the hell you threw that concert on the air?¡¯ Once again, James had no idea what this was about, and only then he remembered. ¡®We¡­ um¡­ we were worried¡­ I mean about ¨C¡¯ ¡®Worried about your friend?¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant¡¯s tone struck James as mocking. ¡®I never thought I¡¯d have to lead a team of girl guides¡­¡¯ He took a few steps around the cabin and turned. ¡®¡­You two, do you even know where you are? Or do you think your uniform is just a cool outfit? You are Space Force pilots. You are in a combat situation¡­ Okay, today is not a real combat situation. But you may find yourself in such a situation very soon. In such a situation, you¡¯d also be worrying about your mate and clogging the air with useless chatter?¡¯ ¡®With all due respect, sir¡­¡¯ James gathered his courage to interrupt the Flight Lieutenant, ¡®we didn¡¯t clog the air with useless chatter. When I noticed Lewis¡¯s fighter¡­ I mean Blackwood¡­ I mean, Bravo 6 going off course ¨C¡¯ ¡®I haven¡¯t given you permission to speak yet, Mr Jenkins!¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant barked. However, your words just confirm that you don¡¯t understand a damn thing anyhow. Blackwood reported the problems to his Section commander. Your chatter prevented us from understanding what happened and making the necessary decision¡­¡¯ James suddenly thought he understood the reason for this performance. It seemed that someone had already managed to twist Jennings¡¯s tail, and it was not just Squadron Leader Dutton. The Squadron commander might have had a hand in it. ¡®¡­Your first duty¡­¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant continued, and James had to pull himself out of his thoughts. ¡®¡­Was, is, and is going to be the execution of orders¡­¡¯ Jennings emphasised the last word with intonation. ¡®¡­You were given a specific and very understandable order which provided for no initiative on your part, regardless of what was going on¡­¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant paused. James chose to remain silent; Steve also remained silent. Jennings took a deep breath and waved his hand. ¡®Okay,¡¯ he said curtly. ¡®I hope something got through to you both. But what the hell, Jenkins, you¡¯ve decided to do aerobatics, I¡¯d like to know very much.¡¯ James had waited for such a question, but now it came unexpectedly. He did not immediately find what to say. ¡®I was¡­ I got sidetracked,¡¯ he said after a short pause, pulling himself together. ¡®And it was entirely my fault. Steve¡­ I mean, Astronaut Second Class Wolverton had nothing to do with it. I¡¯m ready to be fully responsible¡­ sir ¨C¡¯ He did not know what else to say. The explanation he had prepared in advance, which had seemed quite convincing, suddenly disappeared from his mind. He fell silent. ¡®You will be responsible, Jenkins, you will be, no doubt about it¡­¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s voice came to him, accompanied by a deep sigh. ¡®So,¡¯ Jennings continued, taking a few steps that now took him to the front door. ¡®I¡¯m not going to force you to work on reports. I can already see you can¡¯t put two words together. The problem is that very soon you don¡¯t just have to put two words together; you have to put a lot more words together. The Investigation Commission will call you both, and I won¡¯t be able to help you. I am a witness like you. You will have to give evidence yourself. This evidence must be clear, precise, and honest. Also, if this goes to court, you should have to repeat what you¡¯ve said under oath. I mean, there should be no contradiction. ¡®This is all too serious. Games over! Childhood is over; understand that at last. Saving the galaxy sitting on a sofa with a game console in your hands is not the same as saving your life in space. You both joined the space forces of your own free will. No one forced you. So you have to answer for yourself. I¡¯m not your nanny. I¡¯m not here to wipe your snot. I¡¯m your commanding officer. That is a completely different concept and it means something different. If it hasn¡¯t sunk in yet, you have nothing to do here, let alone wear this uniform. I¡¯m not going to dismiss you from flying, but until the Investigation Commission has finished its work, you¡¯re all not going to fly, so ¨C¡¯ without finishing his mind, he took a deep breath and waved his hand. ¡®¡­Wait for the call to testify. From this moment on, you should not discuss the incident with anyone, including the other unit staff and the craft¡¯s crew. Understood?¡¯ ¡®Yessir!¡¯ James and Steve responded in chorus. ¡®Very good¡­ I mean very bad¡­¡¯ Jennings said the last words quietly as if to himself as if he did not wish to speak aloud, and they came out automatically. ¡®Dismissed!¡¯ They left the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s cabin without exchanging a word and walked silently to their sleeping quarters, where they found Mike and Kevin, who did not ask them a single question. Perhaps they also had been instructed to do so by their Section commander. The time before dinner passed slowly. There was absolutely nothing to do. James was not too keen on dinner, even when it finally came. Steve insisted on going to the dining room, James following more automatically than consciously. Almost half the seats at the tables were empty. It did not take James long to realise that only the pilots were at the dinner. There was not a single technician, neither junior nor senior. It seemed that the technical inspection had not yet been completed. Again, the dining room was almost silent. James, trying to prepare for a meeting with the Investigation Commission, went back in his mind to yesterday. But it was difficult to gather his thoughts, let alone formulate the testimony he would have to give. He clearly understood that he had made a mistake, which could not be attributed to technical problems, for there were none. His manoeuvre, which almost resulted in a collision with a transport ship, was unlikely to have gone unnoticed by Mission Control. If Jennings was aware of it, so was the Squadron Command. There could be no doubt about that. Such a mistake could not be explained away as a simple distraction. Who would accept that explanation? A pilot should not be distracted by anything. Jennings¡¯s tantrum, James thought, was stupid and completely inappropriate. But the Flight Lieutenant was right about one thing: in combat, his mistake could cost not only his life but Steve¡¯s as well. James realised that he had unwittingly framed his friend and wingman, which made him feel extremely bad. On the way back to the sleeping quarters, just outside the entrance hatch to the living compartment, someone pulled on his sleeve. James turned, expecting to see Oliver. The boy¡¯s manner sometimes annoyed him, though he usually did not react. However, at that moment, he was not eager to see this young genius, a part-time Specialist 3rd Class of the Engineering Service. However, the tirade he had prepared in advance, trying to mentally soften the expressions to as harmless a level as possible, got stuck in his throat. As it turned out, someone else was pulling his sleeve. Corporal Tomyn was behind him. ¡®We need to talk,¡¯ said he curtly. ¡®Really?¡¯ James had not expected this at all. He had no idea what this type had in mind for him and why now. ¡®This is very important for you,¡¯ Tomyn looked at James intently, then gestured to him aside without saying another word. ¡®What do you want?¡¯ asked James, a little irritably. Nevertheless, he followed the Corporal, only stopping when Tomyn had stopped, turned to him, and smiled wryly. ¡®Telemetry,¡¯ he pronounced slowly, almost in syllables. ¡®What damn telemetry?¡¯ James hurried to interrupt the Corporal. He was senior in rank but serving in another unit and not currently performing a duty that put him in a commanding position. Subordination could be ignored. ¡®Your fighter¡¯s telemetry,¡¯ Tomyn continued in the same tone, as if not noticing anything, and at the same slightly slower pace, ¡®as recorded by the instruments in the control centre.¡¯ ¡®And?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m sure,¡¯ Tomyn chuckled, ¡®you¡¯re guessing.¡¯ James thought Tomin was hinting at something, but he did not quite understand what and said nothing. The Corporal¡¯s gaze changed, and now he seemed mocking James. ¡®¡­What do you know about the explosion of Launch Complex 62 at Cape Canaveral?¡¯ said he. ¡®Not much, just what was on the news. But what does it matter?¡¯ James still did not understand. ¡®You must know,¡¯ said the Corporal. ¡®I must do nothing.¡¯ Corporal Tomyn was beginning to annoy and infuriate James with this conversation, initiated for some incomprehensible purpose. He wanted to say something rude and leave. But Tomyn never raised a brow, even if he noticed something. ¡®So what do you think,¡¯ he began again, ¡®what happened there?¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re talking about the Launch Complex exploding?¡¯ James snapped back. ¡®There¡¯s nothing to think about. It was an accident.¡¯ Tomyn grinned, ¡®Oh, yes indeed, as the media informed, so as not to disturb the civilians. They¡¯ve all been so nervous lately, you know. But actually, it was sabotage. The perpetrators have not yet been found. Anyway, I heard nothing new about this case before we left Earth. But I hope you understand what I mean.¡¯ James made no reply. He still had no idea what Tomyn was getting at. ¡®¡­I mean,¡¯ the Corporal went on, ¡®it¡¯s not that hard to make a few adjustments to your fighter¡¯s telemetry data to lead the Investigation Commission to the idea of sabotage. And unlike the Cape Canaveral case, they won¡¯t have to look so far for the culprit. They could easily think you¡¯d intended to ram the transport craft ¨C¡¯ He paused, staring intently at James. ¡®Savvy, Jimmy boy?¡¯ James was flabbergasted. He had not expected anything like this. ¡®Ridiculous!¡¯ cried he finally. ¡®Why would I want to ram the transport craft?¡¯ The Corporal shook his head. ¡®By the way,¡¯ he said, ¡®have you ever wondered why only the Western Alliance holds this invisible front line? Where¡¯s the Eastern Alliance? Where are all these Chinese and Russians? They have lost spacecraft and astronauts, too. Or none of that affects them at all, eh?¡¯ Tomyn paused and continued with a smile, ¡®You should have thought about that, I suppose, since you¡¯re such a smart boy who not only managed to get a pilot¡¯s certificate but was also promoted to the rank of Astronaut First Class, even though after the Flying School, as fourth on the list, you¡¯re only supposed to be an Astronaut Second Class.¡¯ James had nothing to say and remained silent. Tomyn smiled his predatory smile again and nodded. ¡®Guess what sorta jam you¡¯re in now, Jimmy boy? So, it¡¯s not ridiculous at all, because Flight Lieutenant Moncroft is a serious man.¡¯ ¡®Who?¡¯ Tomyn raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡®Don¡¯t you know him? Oh, yeah¡­¡¯ he seemed to catch himself, ¡®how could you know? Officially, he¡¯s listed in the Technical Service, but in reality ¨C the Secret and he¡¯s a member of the Investigation Commission. He can put two and two together very easily. It smells, let me tell you frankly, no longer of dismissal from flying, as Jankie threatened you, but of something worse.¡¯ James felt his insides go cold. This type had him in the palm of his hand. The fact that he knew what Jennings had been talking about behind closed doors said a lot. It was hard to imagine what he could do with the telemetry, but obviously, he could do something. Otherwise, he would not have spoken so confidently. ¡®What does he want?¡¯ a thought flashed through James¡¯s mind. It could not be money, James had no money, and Tomyn knew that. ¡®So he needs something else¡­¡¯ The Corporal must have noticed something, perhaps from the expression on James¡¯s face. He nodded and continued, ¡®¡­However, I can work on the telemetry in the other direction. You needn¡¯t know the details; the main thing is what the Commission would see. For example, I can make them see not your crap, but a programme failure. Then at least you will keep your rank. Most likely you won¡¯t be dismissed from flying¡­¡¯ ¡®What d¡¯you want?¡¯ James finally decided to ask outright. He had no doubt that Tomyn would want something from him in return. It came out hoarse. His mouth was almost as dry as it had been the moment he had seen his fighter heading straight for the transport craft. Tomyn smiled, only his smile looked more like a predatory grin and immediately disappeared from his face. ¡®Just a little,¡¯ he said almost indifferently. ¡®From time to time let me know what your mates are talking about during their off-duty hours. I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be hard for you. All you have to do is to listen and memorise.¡¯ James finally got it all. Steve¡¯s suspicions were confirmed and even more. Corporal Tomyn was not only an informer himself. He also recruited his own informers, one of whom could become James. It was the last thing he wanted to think about, but now it became clear that this bastard could very well ruin him. Sticky fear crept up again from somewhere deep inside him, but he managed to say out loud, not without struggling, ¡®I¡¯m not going to be a snitch.¡¯ The words came out hoarsely, barely audible. The Corporal rounded his eyes, which seemed unnatural. ¡®Oh dear, what¡¯s the word, Jimmy?¡¯ he exclaimed in an equally unnatural tone. ¡®That¡¯s not what I meant. Of course, if you¡¯re such a noble Galahad¡­¡¯ Tomyn¡¯s face twisted into another contemptuous grin, ¡®¡­you can refuse, I won¡¯t insist. But in that case, I¡¯m afraid you have a risk to part not only with this badge¡­¡¯ he flicked his fingers at the Astronaut First Class chevron on James¡¯s flight suit sleeve, ¡®but also with this uniform, and perhaps even your freedom. Do you need it? By the way, if I say retell me what you all talk about before bedtime, I mean just retell, nothing more. If Moncroft had been in my place, it would have been another matter. You won¡¯t get rid of him easily¡­Well, that¡¯s just for the future. Keep that in mind. You may not even say their names.¡¯ ¡®Only a court martial can charge me with sabotage¡­¡¯ James made one last attempt. ¡®You¡¯ll have to testify under oath ¨C¡¯ ¡®Me?¡¯ Tomyn shook his head negatively. ¡®Nope. By the way, testimony even under oath is a subjective thing. But telemetry data is objective, no court would doubt that. It¡¯s not even the same as a self-written confession. It¡¯s like a security camera catching you at a crime scene. Don¡¯t forget, we¡¯re in the military service, in wartime. As the saying goes, inter arma enim silent leges; do you know what that means? You don¡¯t. That means when the guns speak, the laws fall silent. So, your references to the Habeas Corpus Act are totally misplaced. He paused, staring at James, and James seemed to read the Corporal¡¯s cold cynicism in his gaze. ¡®I have to think about it,¡¯ he forced out, feeling the panic seize him again. Tomyn shook her head. ¡®I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s too late, Jimmy boy. The Investigation Commission meeting should be ¨C¡¯ he glanced at the nearest intercom monitor at the entrance hatch to the living compartment, ¡®within the next two hours. They¡¯ve only requested Bravo 6¡¯s telemetry. But your fighter¡¯s telemetry and other data will certainly be requested, perhaps even today. I¡¯ve to run myself ragged to get you out of this shit¡­¡¯ Chapter 6 James was not called to testify until noon the next day when he was exhausted from waiting. To be precise, he was first told to return to the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters after morning formation and not to speak to anyone, and then to report to squadron headquarters, which turned out to be on C Deck and wait. Entered the outer office, he saw only Mike Hancock. The Investigation Commission had not disturbed anyone else from B-Flight, except, probably, the command staff. Mike had been called first and, after testifying behind closed doors, had left, apparently by another route, for he had not appeared in the outer office when a grim-faced Flying Officer, unknown to James, called his name. The room he entered reminded him of the mission control centre of the training spacecraft. But instead of control stations with transparent screens, there were ordinary tables with monitors along the side bulkheads. James noticed a middle-aged woman in a uniform with a Warrant Officer patch at the last of these tables. The farthest and largest table at the end of the room, close to the rear bulkhead, was occupied by the members of the Commission. There were no monitors before them, just a pile of tablets. The Flying Officer approached the table, said something quietly, and stepped aside, gesturing for James to come closer. On the bulkhead, behind the Commission members, James noticed the Space Force emblem, with the flags of the Western Alliance countries on both sides and the Space Force banner on the right. Apparently, this whole entourage was intended to put anyone who entered here in a serious mood. Following an unspoken order, James made two steps towards the table to report his arrival in due form but was overtaken by Squadron Leader Sawyer, seated in the centre that suggested he headed the Commission. ¡®Astronaut Second Class Jenkins?¡¯ ¡®Astronaut First Class, sir,¡¯ he was corrected by a round-faced, blonde-haired officer with Flight Lieutenant patches on his shoulders whom James had never seen before. Sawyer raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡®Really?¡¯ Leaning slightly over the tablet he was holding, he scrolled down the screen. ¡®¡­Space Force Flying Training School Number One¡­¡¯ he muttered thoughtfully, ¡®¡­fourth on the list¡­ Well, why First Class?¡¯ The Squadron Leader raised his head and looked at James questioningly as if he expected an answer, then turned to a third member of the Commission sitting to his right. This officer was also unknown to James. Instead of responding to the head of the Commission, he just shrugged his shoulders. ¡®¡­The rank of Astronaut First Class,¡¯ Sawyer continued, ¡®is awarded to graduates of the Flying School ¨C¡¯ ¡®Agreed, that¡¯s very unusual, sir,¡¯ the round-faced officer interjected again. James wondered if this was Flight Lieutenant Moncroft of the Secret Service Tomyn had told him about. ¡®We can request information from the school, of course, but I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re unlikely to get an answer soon.¡¯ There was a pause for a while. ¡®Alright,¡¯ Sawyer put his tablet down on the table. ¡®I think it¡¯s not so important. I mean, in this case. We can roughly imagine Mr Jenkins¡¯s qualifications¡­¡¯ He glanced at his right neighbour, then at the round-faced officer. ¡®¡­Squadron Leader Dutton and Flight Lieutenant Jennings have outlined the situation well enough, so I suppose we can move on¡­¡¯ He looked at James again. ¡®¡­Would you like to give us some explanations, Mr Jenkins?¡¯ James was confused. He had thought he would be asked questions, which were always easier to answer than formulate on his own. ¡®Excuse me, sir, are you interested in my rank or ¨C¡¯ he began, stopping before he could finish under the Squadron Leader¡¯s strict eyes. ¡®We¡¯re most interested in your actions during the training flight,¡¯ said Sawyer, ¡®especially the final phase when your fighter almost collided with the transport craft.¡¯ The Squadron Leader¡¯s expression changed, becoming more annoyed than interested. ¡®I guess¡­ sorry¡­ I must have been¡­ er¡­ distracted, sir... so I didn¡¯t notice the transport¡­ uh¡­ sir¡­¡¯ James completely forgot how to explain what had happened that day and said the first thing that came to mind, or what he had already told Jennings, and fell silent. ¡®Go on.¡¯ James felt Sawyer¡¯s icy gaze on him. No one of the Commission members kept records. Records were kept by the Warrant Officer at the side table. Out of his eye corner, James noticed her hunched over the tablet, diligently typing something, only stopping when there was a pause. He even thought, what for? All conversations were supposed to be recorded by microphones built into the bulkheads or tables, and probably video recording. ¡®¡­Go on, Mr Jenkins,¡¯ the Squadron Leader¡¯s voice brought him back to reality. ¡®Yes, sir¡­ I¡­ er¡­ I¡¯ve collected my mind, sir¡­¡¯ ¡®Well, have you collected your mind now?¡¯ The head of the Commission asked this question in an iron tone. ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®Very well, go on. We¡¯re looking forward to it.¡¯ James had to make a considerable effort. He could not retrieve from his memory the whole story he had prepared in advance, which seemed to him to be more or less coherent. He had to pick up the words again and put them together into sentences, just as he did in his head while lying on his bunk in the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters, waiting for the call. This made the story anything but coherent, and he could only hope that the story he was now telling was comprehensible, more or less. Eventually, he managed to pull himself together and describe more or less clearly all his actions from the moment he saw the transport ship on the virtual screen of his helmet. ¡®¡­Then I activated the main engine to lift the fighter into a rendezvous orbit.¡¯ He fell silent. None of the Commission members said a word for the next half minute. ¡®Well, well,¡¯ Sawyer began after a long pause, looking at James intensely. ¡®Go on¡­¡¯ James was confused again. It looked like the Commission members were waiting for him to continue. But he had absolutely no idea what else to say. ¡®¡­or you have nothing more to say?¡¯ Sawyer¡¯s voice came to him as if from a distance. ¡®No, sir,¡¯ he murmured. ¡®I¡¯ve got nothing more to say.¡¯ The Squadron Leader¡¯s eyebrows rose slightly, but only for a second before they returned to their previous position. ¡®I see.¡¯ He took a deep breath, looked around at the other Commission members, and then turned back to James. ¡®Were you aware of the transport craft or not, Mr Jenkins?¡¯ ¡®Uh¡­ yes, sir¡­ er¡­ I wasn¡¯t, sir¡­¡¯ James thought this was not true. He knew about the transport craft, but he had gotten that information not from the Squadron command staff but from another source that would be completely inappropriate to mention now. But then another thought popped into his head. Mission Control had to inform Mike, at least, as commander of the return group, about the transport craft. And if they did, he had to hear it. The only moment he could miss radio contact was after he had switched the receiver back to the main frequency, hoping to find out what was going on with Lewis¡¯s fighter. Squadron Leader Sawyer¡¯s next words confirmed his suspicion. ¡®So you haven¡¯t received the transmission from Mission Control?¡¯ said he in a half questioning, half affirmative tone. Try as he might, James could not find the right answer and simply shrugged his shoulders. ¡®I see¡­¡¯ Sawyer squeaked the words through his teeth. ¡®And Sergeant Hancock hasn¡¯t informed you?¡¯ James shrugged again. He did not want to frame Mike but could not remember if the Sergeant had told him about the approaching transport. If he had, it might have been when James handed the receiver back, or he might have thought everyone had heard his radio traffic with Mission Control. ¡®Mr Jenkins?¡¯ Sawyer¡¯s iron tone brought him back to reality. ¡®I don¡¯t know, sir,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Maybe Mike¡­ oops, I mean Sergeant Hancock informed me, I just didn¡¯t pick up his transmission. Frequency interference¡­ I guess¡­ maybe¡­¡¯ ¡®Understood,¡¯ Sawyer pronounced slowly, but his intonation made it clear he understood nothing. ¡®What about the telemetry, Mr Moncroft?¡¯ James realised it was the same Moncroft. The Flight Lieutenant of Technical Services ¨C formally Technical but really Secret ¨C was already looking at one of the tablets, then unfolded a virtual screen over the table. All three began to look intently at the columns of numbers and graphs on the screen. ¡®Hmm, everything seemed to be alright,¡¯ Sawyer said again after a long pause. ¡®Here¡­¡¯ he ran his hand over the screen, ¡®the manoeuvring thruster was engaged, here¡­¡¯ Moncroft nodded in agreement. ¡®Looks like that, sir,¡¯ he said. ¡®What about the collision warning system?¡¯ the third member of the Commission, whose name James did not yet know, interjected. ¡®It should have worked by now at this distance. Besides, the fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence should detect the transport craft and change its trajectory by itself; that¡¯s what it¡¯s for, right?¡¯ Warning system! ¨C flashed through James¡¯s head. He even flinched. A pulsating red rectangle appeared in his mind¡¯s eye. He could see it clearly on the virtual screen of his pilot¡¯s helmet, and he did not react to it, although he should have¡­ Moncroft, meanwhile, scrolled through the notes on the virtual screen with his hand, and then shook his head. ¡®Neither the artificial intelligence,¡¯ he said, ¡®nor the warning system worked¡­ according to this data¡­ Is that possible?¡¯ He said the last word interrogatively. Sawyer leaned forward, looking intently at the screen. James even wondered what he was looking at there. The virtual screen that Moncroft had set up above the table and the tablets of the commission members showed only some diagrams and columns of numbers that were, at first glance, completely incomprehensible. ¡®Mr Andrews?¡¯ After a short pause, the Squadron Leader continued with a note of surprise, turning to his colleague on the right. This man leaned forward, narrowed his eyes slightly, then shrugged and spread his arms. ¡®Hmm¡­ strange¡­ very strange,¡¯ he said slowly, ¡®however, according to this data, it is.¡¯ ¡®But it shouldn¡¯t be,¡¯ Sawyer said sternly. ¡®Agreed, sir,¡¯ Andrews spread his hands again. ¡®We can assume¡­ a total programme failure, or¡­¡¯ he paused for a second, ¡®both systems didn¡¯t recognise the transport craft, like¡­ I mean, identification failed. In that case, the fighter¡¯s artificial intelligence could have mistaken the transport for a hostile target, so the warning ¨C¡¯ ¡®Artificial intelligence can be wrong,¡¯ Sawyer interrupted with a furrowed brow. ¡®How likely is that?¡¯ Andrews shrugged silently. ¡®¡­Well, well¡­¡¯ Sawyer spoke again after a short pause, ¡®as a variant, I¡¯m ready to agree, but I can¡¯t believe that something like that is possible nowadays. A hundred years ago, maybe, but now ¨C¡¯ He paused for a moment, then shrugged and continued, ¡®On the other hand, what are pilots for? Among other things, to correct such errors, at least that¡¯s what we thought¡­ Anyway, we got the identification codes of the transport craft before the mission. Or maybe you didn¡¯t have enough time to enter the codes into the on-board computer systems?¡¯ ¡®That was not necessary, sir,¡¯ Andrews responded. ¡®Identification codes are required for Mission Control to obtain information on orbit parameters, speed, and the like. Our friend-foe identification systems are totally identical to those of the Space Agency.¡¯ ¡®Yes, indeed. Just I ¨C¡¯ Sawyer paused, thinking again for a moment. ¡®Wait¡­ if I¡¯m not mistaken, in case of the visual warning system failure, the sound warning system ¨C¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re right, sir,¡¯ said Andrews, ¡®unless there has been a serious programme failure or complete system shutdown. In that case, the audio warning system might not work too¡­ That¡¯s very unlikely¡­ but possible,¡¯ he added after a short pause. Sawyer nodded and turned to Moncroft. ¡®What about the flight data recorder?¡¯ he asked. The Secret Service officer picked up another tablet and dove into the notes.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡®The audio signal ¨C¡¯ he paused, then shook his head negatively, ¡®I don¡¯t see anything, so that means the signal¡­ wasn¡¯t recorded. That could mean¡­¡¯ James guessed that Tomyn had not only done brown the fighter¡¯s system telemetry. The flight recorder data had also passed through his hands. He was even surprised by such foresight. Frankly, he had not only noticed a red warning rectangle pulsating on the virtual screen of his helmet, but he had also heard a sound signal. This signal was well known to him and so specific that it would be difficult to confuse it with anything else. He heard it and ignored it. It was a fault worse than any of the others. While James pondered, Andrews rejoined the conversation. ¡®¡­Unlike civilian vehicles,¡¯ the officer¡¯s words reached him, ¡®all fighters have no automatic course-changing systems in case of a dangerous approach. It¡¯s assumed that ¨C¡¯ Sawyer nodded in understanding. ¡®Yes, indeed ¨C¡¯ he paused, moved his eyes up to the virtual screen, scanned two columns of numbers and turned to his neighbour on the right. ¡®But the visual and audible warning systems are completely independent. If both systems weren¡¯t working simultaneously, it could mean a serious malfunction. What do you think, Mr Andrews?¡¯ ¡®Agreed, sir,¡¯ Andrews said hastily. ¡®It seems all the vehicles should be given another thorough test.¡¯ ¡®No doubt, Flight Lieutenant,¡¯ Sawyer leaned back in his chair and continued, after a short pause, ¡®Well, let¡¯s assume we¡¯ve dealt with that¡­ Please¡­ well, more on that later. Any more questions for Mr Jenkins?¡¯ He looked around at his colleagues. ¡®Gentlemen?¡¯ Moncroft and Andrews both sat silent and motionless. Then, the counterintelligence officer shook his head negatively. Sawyer nodded. ¡®In that case, that¡¯s all, Astronaut Second¡­ er¡­ First Class,¡¯ he said. James did not immediately realise that he would not be interrogated again. ¡®I¡­ er¡­ can I go¡­ sir?¡¯ he said after a few seconds. Sawyer raised his eyebrows slightly. ¡®I¡¯ve already told you, Mister. Dismissed.¡¯ It was only after these words that James felt he was beginning to emerge from the state of prostration he had gradually fallen into during this interrogation. ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Sir, yes sir!¡¯ he managed to pronounce the last words more clearly, only then realising that a simple ¡®yes, sir¡¯ might be sufficient. He turned and walked out, almost not noticing where he was going, still waiting for some kind of trick from the Commission or, he no longer knew who. In the corridor ¨C James could not remember how he had passed through the outer office ¨C it seemed as if something heavy had fallen from his shoulders. He leaned against the bulkhead and probably stood motionless for a few minutes before regaining his senses. Corporal Tomyn had kept his promise and at least saved him from a charge of negligence, which could have resulted in a demotion, possibly followed by dismissal from flying and transfer to the auxiliary team. And, of course, it could have been worse. The lad knew what he was doing. He has not only cleaned up the telemetry. He has also taken care of the device that records all the sounds in the cockpit. So, if necessary, he could add something to both recordings that would give the commission a reason to accuse James of sabotage. James breathed a sigh of relief but then remembered that he would have to pay the bill. He felt an intense disgust in his heart. He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts out of his mind. It worked for a moment, but not for long. He was involved in such an ugly story with no way out. Tomyn, undoubtedly a scoundrel, only took advantage of the situation that James had almost literally created with his own hands¡­ He was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he did not even notice Flight Sergeant Rowling, whom he encountered, as always at the most inopportune moment, at the very hatchway of the living compartment. She said nothing, however, and even though she could not help but notice James, she pretended not to have seen him. He reached the sleeping quarters and climbed onto his bunk. The clock on the intercom monitor showed that dinner was not yet over, but although he was hungry, he had no desire to go to the mess room. He had a problem to solve: how to get rid of Tomyn. But no matter how much he racked his brain, he could come up with nothing ¡­ ¡­ The Investigation Commission completed its work on the same day. However, the Squadron Command was not going to announce the results. Just as it turned out, the spacecraft¡¯s crew members were well aware of this. Oliver, who dropped in on the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters just before lights out, said that according to the Commission¡¯s conclusion, the accident was caused by an explosion of the external circuit of the reactor cooling system. The reason for this, in turn, was identified as a manufacturing defect. Young Specialist 3rd Class expressed his mind not so clearly but generally understandably. The damaged fighter could not be repaired under current conditions, so the command decided to dismantle it for parts and dispose of the reactor, simply jettisoning it into space. The technical preparation of the reserve fighter needed time. Lewis was temporarily transferred to Section 1 as Sergeant Hancock¡¯s wingman, and Kevin temporarily became the Flight commander¡¯s wingman. James and Steve, in turn, would have to fly as wingmen with Flight Lieutenant Jennings as leader on a rotating basis. ¡®For the improvement of their skills¡¯, explained Squadron Leader Dutton as he called all three to his cabin immediately after formation. ¡®¡­Well, this is not a dismissal anyway,¡¯ Steve said, patting James on the shoulder¡­ ¡­The comprehensive inspection of the fighters, announced by the command earlier, continued. The technicians tested everything from the propulsion system to the electronics, and everyone was so busy that James and Steve were ordered to carry the memory blocks of their fighters¡¯ on-board computers to a laboratory for testing. This time in a very official way, by special permission, in electronic form, of course, on a tablet, signed by the Flight commander¡­ James suggested using the lift. He did not want to drag heavy devices up the companionways. The Endurance crew members scurried through the corridors, paying no attention to the two Space Force pilots. From time to time, the intercoms came to life, keeping the engineers and technicians in touch with each other and the Main command centre. The spacecraft was preparing to leave for the edge of the solar system, accompanying the transport craft with the second part of the detector array that would be deployed somewhere in the orbit of a stone-ice rock that orbited the Sun at such a distance that its solar year dragged on just a little less than the existence of human civilisation on Earth. It was hard to imagine that this planetoid, less than six hundred kilometres in diameter ¨C James recalled the characteristics Oliver had shown him once ¨C had passed its perihelion when agriculture was unknown to man. This celestial body was approaching its aphelion, the point in its orbit farthest from the Sun where sunlight takes more than 12 days to reach. It would take more than four months to get there from the orbit of Neptune, where the Endurance was, including the time for acceleration and deceleration. At maximum speed, the Endurance could cover the distance in less time. However, the gravitational grip of the planetoid could not be used at maximum speed, which required the maximum distance to decelerate. The planetoid was too small for its gravity to hold a spacecraft travelling at that speed. That was all James could remember of Mrs Hastings¡¯s lectures at No 1 Space Force Training School. ¡®Look where you¡¯re heading!¡¯ A harsh voice brought him back from the world of memories. A guy of average height, wearing wrinkled overalls and with at least three days¡¯ worth of stubble on his chin appeared just before James. Somehow, he reminded him of Ben from the warehouse where he and Oliver had once gone searching for a backup clock generator. Maybe it was him, but James had no time for recognition. The guy passed by without looking back, preventing James from being able to see him. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ Steve stopped at the intersection of two corridors and lowered the memory block onto the deck. ¡®What a heavy bastard. How much further do we have to go?¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s the cooling system that weighs so much,¡¯ James said, though he was not sure if he was right. ¡®My guess is we¡¯re not that far from.¡¯ He immediately doubted his last words, for he had only been in the engine compartment once. The memory device was cumbersome indeed: even if he had not lied to Steve, it would not hurt to rest. ¡®Why do they keep all the entrance hatches open?¡¯ Steve nodded towards the nearest one, further down one of the corridors. ¡®We¡¯ve got the only airlock open between the living compartment and the next one where the mess room is, and even that¡¯s closed at nighttime.¡¯ ¡®Yeah, I wondered about that too,¡¯ James agreed. ¡®Hmm¡­ maybe they¡¯ve got different rules.¡¯ ¡®Civvies.¡¯ With a contemptuous snort, Steve leaned over to pick up his load but suddenly straightened up again. A girl who seemed quite pretty to James appeared from the wide-open hatch into the next compartment. He thought he had seen her before but could not remember where. It was hard to guess how old she was. Wearing a uniform flight suit with the Space Agency emblem and a patch on her sleeve, she looked to be about twenty-two to twenty-three years old, her collar insignia indicating that she was a Second Lieutenant. Long, thick brown hair was pulled back into a ¡®ponytail¡¯. James grinned involuntarily at the thought of what she would do if the artificial gravity system suddenly switched off and that ¡®tail¡¯ would stand up. Steve¡¯s face broke into just the broadest smile. ¡®Hi, I¡¯m Steve,¡¯ he said as the girl approached them. At that moment, James had a flash of memory of her. She was the same one he had met at the sickbay airlock on his second day aboard the Endurance. The girl stopped and looked at them intensely. ¡®Am I looking like a kindergarten teacher?¡¯ she said without emotion and continued down the corridor. Steve seemed about to say something but stood there with his mouth agape. James nudged him lightly, ¡®Close your mouth.¡¯ ¡®Damn! You see¡­ ¡¯ve you seen?¡¯ Steve shouted. He looked so comical that James could barely hold back his laughter. ¡®¡­What a¡­ what a¡­ bitch¡­¡¯ ¡®What happened, mate?¡¯ James could not help himself and laughed out loud, guessing what had brought his friend to such a state. ¡®Pfff, she¡¯s a¡­¡¯ Steve seemed unable to find the right words to fully express his feelings. ¡®What the fuck! She¡¯s just a bit older than us¡­¡¯ ¡®So?¡¯ James continued to laugh. ¡®What got you so excited? Well, she¡¯s a bitch indeed, but¡­ Okay, tell me, what do you think of Oliver?¡¯ ¡®Oliver who?¡¯ ¡®You know him. He comes to see me from time to time.¡¯ ¡®Ah, that kid¡­¡¯ Steve calmed down a little. ¡®Aha!¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ With some difficulty, James managed to hold back another burst of laughter, without which it was almost impossible to look at Steve. ¡®What ¨C chicken butt¡­¡¯ he patted Steve on the shoulder. ¡®I mean, if he¡¯s a kid from your point of view, being just a little bit younger than us, why are you so surprised that you¡¯re a kid from her point of view?¡¯ Steve replied nothing, just mumbled something, still in an unhappy tone ¡­ ¡­ After handing the memory blocks to the computer technician, James had to stay on to sign several documents, two of which were not yet ready. Steve had probably gone back to the hangar deck; James was still waiting while the technician, about twenty-five years old, wearing the standard Space Agency flight uniform but without any rank insignia, took the memory blocks from them, typed a text on his tablet for James to sign and then copied it onto his tablet. He squinted at James periodically and finally spoke, nodding at the name patch on James¡¯s flight suit, ¡®Jenkins? Are you happen to be Welsh?¡¯ ¡®As it happens,¡¯ James nodded in confirmation with a smile. The technician nodded back, smiled, and held his hand to James. ¡®Shake! I¡¯m Dylan.¡¯ ¡®James.¡¯ James shook the outstretched hand, noticing his new friend¡¯s name on the name patch: ¡®Thomas¡¯ and probably could not hold back an involuntary grin that did not escape the lad¡¯s attention. ¡®Unlike the guy you¡¯ve got in mind,¡¯ he grinned and continued in Welsh, ¡®I don¡¯t write poetry, but like him, I never say no to whisky.¡¯ ¡®Even here?¡¯ James said back with a laugh, continuing in the same language. ¡®I mean in space?¡¯ ¡®Not here, and certainly not now,¡¯ Thomas grinned again. ¡®Can you imagine what would happen to you if the artificial gravity system suddenly switched off at the worst possible moment? So the dry law in spacecraft is quite justified ¨C¡¯ ¡®Mr Thomas¡­¡¯ An absolutely colourless voice interrupted the conversation that had barely begun. Looking back, James saw an unknown man entering the diagnostic laboratory. He looked to be in his fifties ¨C his hair already noticeably grey ¨C apparently of mixed European-Asian descent. He was wearing not in uniform but in a surprisingly bright yellow overall. However, his manner indicated that he held a high position in the spacecraft¡¯s chain of command. Thomas stood up, gave the new arrival a respectful look, and spoke English again, ¡®Sir?¡¯ ¡®Have you finished?¡¯ the man said in the same colourless voice, but distinctly stern. ¡®Sorry, sir, I haven¡¯t had time,¡¯ Thomas replied apologetically. ¡®They¡­¡¯ he nodded at James, ¡®jumped us.¡¯ ¡®What do you mean, they jumped you?¡¯ The man looked at James and seemed to be studying him intently. ¡®I mean we were ordered to test all the memory blocks of the Space Force vehicles as soon as possible, sir,¡¯ Thomas said. ¡®Probably, because of the accident.¡¯ ¡®You should have said that.¡¯ The unknown man shook his head slightly and continued thoughtfully, ¡®Very bad.¡¯ ¡®Nothing to do, sir. I¡¯ve got an order ¨C¡¯ ¡®Yes, of course, an order,¡¯ came the reply in the same tone. ¡®I feel it is necessary to have a word with Jean-Pierre. This equipment should be installed as soon as possible.¡¯ Thomas shook his head and said apologetically, ¡®I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be able to do it before tomorrow, sir. If only at night¡­ well, I mean after the shift¡­¡¯ ¡®You mean overtime?¡¯ ¡®Oh¡­ yes, sir.¡¯ ¡®And you do not like it?¡¯ ¡®Sir¡­¡¯ it was noticeable how Thomas braced himself inwardly, ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m not saying that I refuse. I just ¨C¡¯ The yellow overall owner¡¯s face became stern, but his voice remained absolutely colourless, ¡®It seems you cannot lift a finger without an official order. I must discuss this with Jean-Pierre right away.¡¯ And he walked out. ¡®Who is that?¡¯ James asked. Thomas made a completely undefined sound. It was not clear what he was trying to express. ¡®Dr Wong,¡¯ said he, ¡®the Chief Science Officer.¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s a strange man,¡¯ James found the Chief Science Officer quite odd. ¡®The scientist with a worldwide reputation,¡¯ Thomas returned with a smile. ¡®You think all scientists with a worldwide reputation are so¡­¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Thomas shrugged. ¡®I¡¯ve never met any of them except this Wong.¡¯ ¡®His voice is so¡­ unusual. No emotion.¡¯ ¡®Yeah, he¡¯s not very emotional himself,¡¯ said Thomas. ¡®Last week he lectured the crew on some new theory about star system formation or something. Nobody understood a word, not even the Chief Engineer. But after the lecture, one boy began to argue with him. Stubbs ¨C¡¯ ¡®Oliver?¡¯ ¡®You know him?¡¯ Thomas grinned. ¡®Well, I¡¯ve got nothing against, he¡¯s a really smart kid, no kidding, just funny. He pestered Wong with his questions for at least half an hour after the lecture. Anyone else would have sent him away, but Wong didn¡¯t raise an eyebrow.¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s the equipment he wants so badly?¡¯ asked James. Thomas grinned. ¡®Oh, it¡¯s some kinda super-clever device to listen to the cosmos. Can you imagine that?¡¯ James shook his head negatively. ¡®¡­Me too,¡¯ the technician grinned again. ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ he handed James his tablet, ¡®go ahead and sign this balderdash. It¡¯s time to take care of your flyers¡¯ brains¡­¡¯ On the way back, James barely resisted the temptation to look into the reactor compartment. But he changed his mind at the last moment, remembering that the technicians had asked him to give them all the documents as soon as possible. The boys needed time to report back to their superiors. He did all this, reported back to Jennings and was on his way to the living compartment when someone on the companionway tugged at his sleeve. James froze, no longer doubting who it might have been. And he was not wrong. Turning, he saw Tomyn¡¯s grinning face. ¡®Hi,¡¯ the Corporal said, quite friendly. ¡®What about to chat?¡¯ ¡®Do we have anything to chat about?¡¯ James asked though he could guess what the answer would be. And he was right again. ¡®Yes, we have,¡¯ the Corporal¡¯s voice became suggestive. ¡®And you know what about.¡¯ ¡®No idea.¡¯ James would be happy to see Flight Sergeant Rowling instead of Tomyn, and he would not even mind if she sent him on chores as punishment for something, whatever it was. ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ the Corporal¡¯s face was filled with a mocking grin. ¡®I¡¯ve got nothing to tell you yet,¡¯ James said gloomily. Without taking the smirk off his face, Tomyn nodded his head twice. ¡®Of course, you have.¡¯ ¡®I have nothing to tell you,¡¯ James repeated. ¡®I mean, nothing like¡­ like you might be interested in.¡¯ Tomyn just chuckled. ¡®All you have to do, Jimmy boy,¡¯ he said ironically, ¡®is listen and memorise what the folks are talking about. And what might interest me, isn¡¯t your cuppa tea ¨C¡¯ He paused for a second, looking around. ¡®So I¡¯ll be waiting for you in half an hour¡­ in the crew mess on E Deck. The place looks familiar, I suppose.¡¯ With these words, Tomyn smiled his predatory smile, turned and started up the companionway. Chapter 7 ¡®Activate programme¡­¡¯ Flight Lieutenant Jennings¡¯s voice sounded impassive, unlike his usual, even slightly tired. James reacted immediately, tapping a series of numbers and letters on the control panel and pressing the ¡®Enter¡¯ key. He could finally relax for a few minutes. The on-board artificial intelligence system would do all the work by itself, picking up the signal from the tactical navigation system, synchronising the speed of the fighter and the ship, maintaining the required pitch parameters and leading the fighter directly to the landing rail. He noticed on his virtual screen that the B-5, flying almost parallel, was changing course. It looked as if the Section commander was approaching to land in the same regime. It was more than justified. Today¡¯s training flight was very hard. James had never felt so tired, not even on the day of Lewis¡¯s fighter accident. Long hours of manual control, the complex manoeuvres and the three simulated attacks in three completely different regimes had taken their toll. Then, just as all the fighters were moving into battle formation, the Flight commander ordered a change in one of the attack schemes out of the blue. He thought Jennings¡¯s decision to hand over control of the landing to the artificial intelligence was not unreasonable. Even if the Flight Lieutenant was more worried about himself than his wingman. The hangar gateway was already open. This giant slab, as wide as the hangar and about a metre thick, had risen up like the jaws of a monster about to devour James¡¯s fighter. Seen from Triton¡¯s surface, however, the slab should have appeared to be sinking. The satellite was now passing directly over James¡¯s head. But no one could see his fighter from the surface of this icy Neptunian moon, where it was so cold that nitrogen froze and fell like snow. A light, barely perceptible push signalled the end of the landing process. The fighter slid along the landing rail, gradually slowing to a stop. James felt himself pushed into the pilot¡¯s seat. The transition from weightlessness to standard gravity, generated by the spacecraft¡¯s artificial gravity system, had been expected, as always, but unexpected, as always. Now, he had to shut down all the fighter¡¯s systems ¨C a well-rehearsed procedure, but not so easy when the weight of the spacesuit was added to James¡¯s own. A red light on the end bulkhead indicated that the hangar was still depressurised. The airlock connecting the hangar to the rest of the spacecraft was still covered by a massive shield. James had to wait for the last pair of A-Flight fighters to land, and the green light on the end bulkhead indicated that the hangar was completely sealed. Then, he could complete the last item on the checklist - switching off the oxygen supply to the spacesuit. Finally, the green light came on, and the massive slab covering the hangar¡¯s inner transition airlock crept upwards. James turned off the life support, disconnected the hose, and took off his helmet, feeling the coolness on his face. It looked like he sweated profusely. It had always been difficult for him to get up from his chair in the spacesuit and walk out of the cabin onto the ladder the technicians had already installed, and today, it was even more difficult. He had to grab the railing to get down, and at the worst possible moment, he was rocked sideways. He almost dropped his helmet. ¡®Be careful,¡¯ said a voice that seemed to be not only familiar to James but very familiar indeed. He turned towards the voice and froze in astonishment. Steve was standing downstairs. James almost fell again. ¡®What¡¯re you doing here?¡¯ he burst out, not expecting to see his recent wingman in this place and wearing a grey-coloured technician¡¯s overall. ¡®What d¡¯you think?¡¯ Steve replied. ¡®I¡¯m in auxiliary now. Or has it slipped your mind?¡¯ ¡®I hadn¡¯t even heard of it.¡¯ ¡®Really?¡¯ Steve¡¯s gaze seemed to James a little disbelieving. ¡®Yeah.¡¯ ¡®Well¡­¡¯ Steve waved his hand, ¡®probably, you¡¯ll hear about it soon. I¡¯ve got no time, and Dutton¡¯s surely waiting for you.¡¯ James guessed that Steve had no intention of saying more at the moment. He moved towards the airlock, at a loss. Nothing of the sort had been expected this morning. James was supposed to be Jennings¡¯s wingman on a training flight today. He went to the pre-flight briefing immediately after formation and never returned to the living compartment. What had happened to Steve seemed to be highly illogical. A pilot could only be reassigned to auxiliary staff as a punishment, but James saw no reason for that. He had watched Steve and Jennings¡¯s training flight from the control room the day before and had seen nothing that could have caused it. Moreover, he had witnessed Steve being personally praised by the Squadron Commander just a few days before. They both had not had any run-ins with Rowling for a long time. The Flight Sergeant still treated them with marked distrust, periodically finding fault with them for small things, but nothing more. Steve, unlike James himself, had no dealings with any of the spacecraft¡¯s crew, apart from a failed attempt to flirt with the girl who had so contemptuously blown him off. ¡®Well done, wingman¡­¡¯ Flight Lieutenant Jennings, already without his spacesuit, caught up with him in the corridor behind the airlock. ¡®It was almost perfect today. You can if you want.¡¯ ¡®Thank you, sir,¡¯ James replied mechanically, about to say something completely different. ¡®It¡¯s not praise, Mr Jenkins. I always try to be objective about the work of my subordinates.¡¯ James was a little taken aback. He had long since given up relying on Jennings¡¯s objectivity but he thought it made sense to take advantage of the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s complacent mood. ¡®Sir, may I ask a question?¡¯ Jennings looked at him, slightly puzzled, and nodded. ¡®You may. What question?¡¯ ¡®Steve... I mean, Astronaut Second Class Wolverton ¨C¡¯ he stopped, not finding the right words to go on. ¡®And?¡¯ ¡®I mean¡­ uh¡­ why he¡­ what he¡¯s doing ¨C¡¯ ¡®Understood.¡¯ Jennings¡¯s almost friendly expression changed abruptly. A shadow seemed to pass over his face. ¡®Astronaut Second Class Wolverton has been transferred to the auxiliary,¡¯ he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. ¡®Sir?¡¯ ¡®I cannot tell you anymore.¡¯ Jennings¡¯s tone changed to annoyance. ¡®But ¨C¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s all, Mr Jenkins,¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant snapped. ¡®I think it¡¯s time to attend to your post-flight documentation.¡¯ He turned abruptly and walked down the corridor without another word. Returning to their sleeping quarters, James immediately noticed a change. Steve¡¯s bunk was empty. His sleeping bag and other personal belongings, which usually lay on a mesh shelf above the bunk, were gone. James dared not look into Steve¡¯s locker, the door of which was slightly ajar. Wil and Ethan were seated at the table, hunched over their tablets, working on the post-flight reports James was supposed to do as soon as possible. However, he stood in the middle of the sleeping quarters, not moving. Steve had not only been dismissed from the flying crew for some unknown reason, he had also been relocated to no one knew where, and very quickly. The squadron orders appeared on screen when James activated his tablet, dated that day, clarified nothing. Astronaut First Class J.A. Jenkins was on the mailing list, but most of the text was hidden. A note next to James¡¯s name on the mailing list explained why. This meant that the addressee could only read paragraphs that directly concerned him. He guessed. The only paragraph that directly concerned him was about the reorganisation of B-Flight. Section 2 now consisted of three fighters. That probably explained the irritation that had involuntarily crept into Jennings¡¯s voice as he informed James of Steve¡¯s transfer to the auxiliary staff. The reason for the transfer was obviously not something James needed to know. He had heard it was common practice in the military, but this was the first time he had encountered it. ¡®Games over,¡¯ Jennings¡¯s words appeared in his mind. The sleeping quarters gradually filled up with inhabitants. Mike and Kevin came up behind James; Lewis appeared a few minutes later. None of them seemed to be paying attention to Steve¡¯s empty bunk. James thought they might all know more, but he never asked. He decided to find out for himself when he had completed his report. Only after he had sent this not-very-coherent text to Jennings (he still had to contact Dabir to get the fighter¡¯s post-flight inspection data) did he have the opportunity to go in search of Steve. The junior technicians¡¯ sleeping quarters were located in the same compartment as the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters, a little further down the corridor towards the stern of the spacecraft. James was already on his way but suddenly thought it would be pointless to look for Steve in the technicians¡¯ quarters at this time. Steve could likely be somewhere on the Flight Deck or lower down in the repair hangars. His hunch proved correct, and he found his friend in a tiny room filled with detergents and cleaning equipment. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ James said, only then realising that his question sounded stupid. ¡®As you can see,¡¯ Steve grumbled back without turning around. He was rearranging some boxes on shelves along the bulkhead. ¡®Well, maybe now you have time to tell me what happened?¡¯ Just then, Steve turned to him with a questioning look. ¡®¡­I mean, what are you doing here, and what a ¨C¡¯ James went on but not finished. Steve shook his head. ¡®I cannot,¡¯ he said very quietly, almost whispering. ¡®What does that mean ¨C you can¡¯t?¡¯ James was confused. Steve took a deep breath and patted him on the shoulder. ¡®You¡¯re a good friend, Jim,¡¯ he said, ¡®and thanks for caring. What happened ¨C happened.¡¯ James was speechless for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the change in Steve. There was no trace of the rollicking lad he had known. To say that Steve was saddened by what had happened was to say nothing. He seemed completely crushed. ¡®I just¡­ I just wanted to ask¡­¡¯ It was hard to formulate the question. ¡®¡­Well, can you tell me anything?¡¯ James finally said. ¡®Sorry, old man¡­¡¯ Steve took another deep breath. ¡®I can¡¯t.¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ ¡®Agreement.¡¯ ¡®What fucking agreement?¡¯ cried James. Steve winced. ¡®A non-disclosure agreement,¡¯ he said quietly. ¡®Non-disclosure?¡¯ Steve grinned, but James thought his grin was bitter. ¡®I think you know,¡¯ he said, ¡®I can¡¯t even talk about it. And I don¡¯t want to drag you into it. It¡¯s enough that someone fitted me up.¡¯ ¡®Someone fitted you up?¡¯ ¡®Sorry, Jim¡­¡¯ Steve began, rubbing the bridge of his nose but not finishing. ¡®Hang in there, old chap,¡¯ James patted him on the shoulder. ¡®Rest assured, I won¡¯t let it go ¨C¡¯ Steve cut him off, shaking his head emphatically, ¡®Don¡¯t even think about it.¡¯ ¡®You don¡¯t know yet ¨C¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m guessing,¡¯ Steve smiled sadly. ¡®So I¡¯m telling you again: don¡¯t think about it. Ya run the risk of getting into this shit yarself ¨C¡¯ He paused. ¡®Eh, I wish I knew who put me in this¡­¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m going to find that bastard, whoever he is, and kick his arse,¡¯ said James. Steve shook his head again. ¡®You can kick his arse, of course, if you find him, but after that, you can find yourself here¡­ I mean this¡­¡¯ he gestured around the room, ¡®if not behind bars. And I¡¯m serious. So, Jim, don¡¯t interfere, please. Junkie¡¯s in a jam himself. He can take it out on you ¨C¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t give a damn about Junky!¡¯ cried James. ¡®Or was it his tricks?¡¯ Steve shook his head negatively. ¡®I guess not, but¡­ I can¡¯t tell you anything. Hopefully, you have it in your head already,¡¯ he said with a bitter smile. ¡®You¡¯re such a smart boy, and you¡¯ve already guessed. I¡¯m just asking you not to interfere. It would be better for both of us.¡¯ ¡®I just wanna help you ¨C¡¯ James began; Steve stopped him with a gesture.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®You cannot,¡¯ said he. ¡®I always suspected it, but now I¡¯m sure. Our desires never match our abilities. That is as clear as day.¡¯ James looked at his friend in surprise. ¡®As clear as mud. And looks like¡­ a philosophy, but I¡¯m not so good with that.¡¯ Steve shook his head. ¡®You¡¯re pretty good with that, don¡¯t be shy,¡¯ he said with a sad smile. ¡®By the way, that¡¯s not a philosophy but a fact. If you don¡¯t have problems, nobody around you has problems. But if a problem falls on you, it turns out that everyone around you has an awful lot of problems, and none of them are in a position to help you. Come back. If Rowling catches you here ¨C¡¯ Without finishing the sentence, he waved his hand and turned his back on James again ¡­ ¡­ Flight Sergeant Rowling appeared in the sleeping compartment almost as soon as James had returned and informed him that Squadron Leader Dutton was waiting for him urgently. Wondering why the Squadron Leader had not used the intercom, James only suspected what was wrong when he entered the commander¡¯s office, which was joined to his sleeping cabin. Flight Lieutenant Jennings, Sergeant Hancock, Kevin and Lewis and Flight Lieutenant Randolph, the commander¡¯s wingman, were already there. It seemed James had missed the call, and Dutton had to send Rowling for him on purpose. This was not good at all. However, the Flight commander said nothing. He asked James to close the door and took his place at the table. ¡®Take a seat, Mr Jenkins,¡¯ he said dryly. ¡®We¡¯re going to have a long talk. First, about discipline¡­¡¯ James found a jump seat attached to the bulkhead separating the office from the commander¡¯s sleeping area. All the other seats were occupied. ¡®¡­I don¡¯t want to remind you all of this,¡¯ the Squadron Leader continued, ¡®but I have to. I don¡¯t know if this is a result of the unavoidable, and for some already close, communication with the spacecraft¡¯s crew or if we¡¯ve all just relaxed. Nevertheless, no one cancelled the discipline. You all have to know the regulations anyway, and I hope you do. You all know the requirements for Space Force personnel. These requirements are not dictated by anyone¡¯s whim. These requirements are dictated by the peculiarities of our duty, which you have all voluntarily chosen¡­¡¯ Dutton emphasised the last words, as it seemed to James, looking straight at him. He straightened automatically, though he needed not. ¡®¡­Any failure to comply with these requirements, which have the force of law even in peacetime and even more so in wartime,¡¯ the Squadron Leader went on, ¡®can have certain consequences you must all be aware of. Otherwise, you risk having to face them. We have already lost one of our fighters, which reduce our combat capability. The mission ahead of us imposes an additional responsibility on each of us. We must not allow the enemy to interfere with the construction of the detector array. It¡¯s not just a matter of colossal resources, though I suspect this array may cost too much more than our spacecraft. This array should form the basis of the long-range warning system we desperately need. Until now, our knowledge of the enemy has been fragmented. We cannot track their actions and prevent attacks on our facilities in time. The enemy¡¯s forces outnumber ours many times over. This is no longer an assumption it''s a fact. You all know it; I¡¯m just reminding you. Therefore, however presumptuous it may sound, if not the outcome of the entire war, at least the current phase is now up to us, until the construction of a new generation of spacecraft, designed based on available experience, is completed¡­¡¯ James could not help but notice that Hancock was looking at Randolph, then at Kevin, shrugging his shoulders, and Lewis¡¯s eyebrows twitching slightly. This long lecture caused confusion. Even though the Squadron Leader spoke softly, without any notes of irony in his voice that happened when he was unhappy with something or someone. Or perhaps he used such a style just for that reason? What had prompted him to give this lecture remained a complete mystery. ¡®¡­I dare to hope,¡¯ Dutton continued meanwhile, seemingly oblivious to the bewildered looks of his subordinates, ¡®that you all understand the responsibility that rests upon us and will act accordingly. Soon, the Endurance will leave Neptune and set a course for its destination. Our next mission could be a real combat mission; think about it. Mr Jennings, please stay a while; we have something to discuss. All others ¨C dismissed.¡¯ The end was as unexpected as the beginning. James looked at Hancock, who just shrugged. ¡®Jenkins, Blackwood¡­¡¯ Flight Lieutenant Jennings¡¯s voice stopped him at the door, ¡®¡­have you two understood all this?¡¯ ¡®Yes sir,¡¯ James replied mechanically. Lewis said nothing. ¡®Great! I hope,¡¯ Jennings continued in an undertone, nodding towards the Flight commander, ¡®I won¡¯t have to listen to anything like this again.¡¯ ¡®What the hell does that mean?¡¯ Lewis asked James as they both stepped into the corridor. ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ James replied mechanically again. He no longer doubted that Dutton¡¯s lecture was somehow connected to Steve¡¯s transfer to the auxiliary, just as the transfer was somehow connected to a breach of discipline. The question of how these two things were connected was still open. Lewis¡¯s comment might imply that he knew more about Steve¡¯s transfer from flight staff. On the other hand, since he had said nothing to James, there was no point in drawing him out. James sensed something unsettling in Dutton¡¯s words, though he could not be sure it was not his imagination. The next ¡®night¡¯, as the rest period for most Space Force personnel and off-duty spacecraft crew members was usually called, approached imperceptibly. James, however, could not fall asleep. He tossed and turned in his bunk for almost an hour. A couple of times, he was ready to wake Lewis and ask him directly what had happened to Steve, but after some thought, he changed his mind. He spent some time mentally reviewing the last events in search of at least one clue, but in vain. Finally, he could take no more. He unzipped his sleeping bag, slid down, pulled on his flight suit, and stepped out of the sleeping quarters. The corridors were dimmed during the ¡®night¡¯s rest¡¯, but the sparse ceiling lights made it possible to move about without risking tripping over a bulkhead or threshold. Closer to the airlock to the utility compartment, the lamp over the desk of the compartment duty officer was also on. It was the most unpleasant and pointless duty James had had to perform since coming on board. The night duty officer had absolutely nothing to do. You could sit at the counter, above which the clock on the intercom monitor was counting; you could read; you could look at the floor, at the ceiling; a couple of times during the ¡®night¡¯, to walk along the corridors, past the sleeping quarters of the junior staff and the officers¡¯ cabins. The instructions called for such a tour every hour, but almost no one followed this paragraph. However, James had already forgotten when the last time had been that he had sat at this very table. After training flights began, pilots were no longer assigned to night duty. ¡®Can¡¯t sleep?¡¯ The voice seemed very familiar to James, though it was quiet. A duty officer rose from his seat, and James recognised Corporal Tomyn. ¡®Wanna ask something?¡¯ he began again. James suddenly thought that if Tomyn had somehow managed to find out what Jennings had been talking about with his subordinates in his quarters behind closed doors, he might know the reason for Steve¡¯s transfer to the auxiliary. ¡®Yes,¡¯ said he. Tomyn nodded. ¡®Go ahead.¡¯ It seemed that the Corporal¡¯s mood was now quite suitable. ¡®D¡¯you know why Steve was dismissed from the flight staff?¡¯ James decided to ask directly. Tomyn nodded again in confirmation. ¡®Can you tell me?¡¯ The Corporal made an indefinite gesture with his hands. What he was trying to say, James did not understand. ¡®Look, can you tell me or not?¡¯ The Corporal shrugged and made a similar gesture. ¡®Actually, it¡¯s a delicate matter¡­¡¯ he began and paused, raising his eyebrows slightly and tilting his head slightly to one side. ¡®¡­And honestly, I mustn¡¯t share this information¡­¡¯ He paused again. ¡®¡­However, I¡¯ve seen no reason not to share it with you. The Disciplinary Commission ¨C¡¯ ¡®What damn commission?¡¯ James interrupted him sharply. ¡®What d¡¯you mean?¡¯ ¡®You want a name list?¡¯ James shook his head negatively. ¡®No. I just don¡¯t get it, what does some fucking commission have to do with it?¡¯ Tomyn as if ignoring James¡¯s irritation. ¡®Very simple¡­¡¯ he smiled mockingly. ¡®In the case of a breach of discipline, there is a commission to decide what punishment should be meted out. In this case, the commission has decided to transfer Astronaut Second Class Wolverton from the flight staff to the auxiliary. Am I making myself clear?¡¯ ¡®Not at all. Can you be more specific?¡¯ Tomyn smiled mockingly again. ¡®This is an even more delicate matter,¡¯ said he, tilting his head slightly to the side, ¡®but I see no reason not to tell you about this as well: violation of the secrecy regime.¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ cried James in bewilderment. ¡®Unauthorised disclosure of classified information, if you wanna call a spade a spade.¡¯ Tomyn said these words in a completely neutral way as if he were giving a weather forecast or something like that. ¡®What a fucking disclosure?¡¯ James felt almost the same as he did today when he saw Steve, ¨C ¡®or yesterday,¡¯ flashed through his mind ¨C on the Flight deck, wearing the overalls of the technical staff. The Corporal¡¯s face showed surprise. ¡®I guess, you know.¡¯ He emphasised the word ¡®you¡¯. ¡®How can I know?¡¯ cried James. The Corporal made a vague gesture with his hands. ¡®Very simply¡­¡¯ Suddenly it dawned on James. A recent conversation, just a few days ago, in their sleeping quarters before lights out, and his conversation with Tomyn the next day, surfaced in his mind. Steve said something that night that James told the Corporal the next day¡­ ¡®¡­Your closest friend,¡¯ Tomyn continued, ¡®got carried away and said something he shouldn¡¯t have said anyway.¡¯ James tried desperately to remember, but could not. Only fragments swirled in his mind, but he saw nothing resembling the disclosure of classified information. What is this scoundrel talking about? What does he mean? Thoughts ran fast and confused. ¡®Don¡¯t break your head in vain¡­¡¯ Tomyn¡¯s voice, whose face he saw as if through a mist, reached him. ¡®Poor lad mentioned the detector array. Back then, this information was still¡­¡¯ ¡®Yes, indeed!¡¯ lightning flashed through James¡¯s head. He finally recalled that evening, not in all the details, but enough to put it all together. The conversation turned to the training flight scheduled for the next day. As the previous flight plan had been changed, Steve put forward an assumption¡­ ¡®Wolverton hasn¡¯t divulged any classified information,¡¯ he said, looking the Corporal straight in the eye. ¡®Honestly, I don¡¯t see what all the fuss is about. Well, years ago, on Earth, yes, but now¡­ Do you think these aliens installed the listening devices somewhere? The spacecraft¡¯s entire crew has long known about the detector array. ¡®Maybe¡­¡¯ Tomyn smiled ironically, ¡®but that affects neither him nor you. You¡¯re in the army now. Classified information ¨C is classified information that¡¯s not worth sharing even with a bedfellow. You both ¨C you and Wolverton himself ¨C knew that very well. By the way, I suspect, you learned about the detector array much before all of us. However, you considered it good to keep your mouth shut. Wolverton could have done the same, but, what a pity¡­.¡¯ the Corporal¡¯s face became tearful, ¡®¡­didn¡¯t have enough brains. Don¡¯t worry, Jimmy boy¡­¡¯ His face became mocking. ¡®You¡¯re as pure as a baby before your over-sensitive conscience. You didn¡¯t tell me any name, though it wasn¡¯t hard to guess. Whatever it was, the fact that Wolverton turned out to be a booby didn¡¯t come from you, so, formally, you had nothing to do with his transfer to the auxiliary.¡¯ ¡®Nonsense, Tomyn!¡¯ cried James. The Corporal¡¯s face showed misunderstanding. ¡®¡­I mean¡­ I wanna say¡­¡¯ James once again struggled to find the right words. ¡®A new mission task was announced the very next day in the Squadron order in which all subsequent training flights took place ¨C¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ Tomyn interrupted James with a gesture. ¡®When Wing Commander Burton saw fit, he informed you what the Joint Command planned. Until that moment, that information was considered classified.¡¯ ¡®Look¡­¡¯ James decided to try another way, ¡®Steve, as well as all of us, hadn¡¯t signed off that this information is classified, top-top secret, and must be eaten after reading. He knew nothing about it, you see? So if he knew nothing, should he be responsible? Well, maybe it was possible somewhere in¡­ Russia or¡­ I don¡¯t know, China more years ago, but not here and not now ¨C¡¯ Tomyn stopped him by gesturing again. ¡®I¡¯ve told you once upon a time, Jimmy boy,¡¯ he began in an insinuating voice, ¡®you¡¯re in the army, the war is going on. Whatever you wanna tell me about democracy, human rights and so on has lost its meaning for now.¡¯ James thought there was no point in continuing. Up to now, Tomin had easily defeated all his arguments. The last option remained. He thought of trying to beat the bastard with his own weapon. ¡®You must get Steve back on the pilots¡¯ staff immediately,¡¯ he said, as he hoped, in a hard tone. ¡®Otherwise ¨C¡¯ ¡®I must do nothing,¡¯ Tomyn replied with an idiotic grin, ¡®nothing for anyone, especially you. Yes indeed, if you wanna know more about a court martial. Even for you, it¡¯s not that complicated to guess that if I tell them what happened¡­ hmm, you know ¨C when and with whom ¨C nothing can prevent the command from reopening the investigation. Do you need it, eh?¡¯ It was pointless to continue. James knew immediately what this scoundrel meant. ¡®Aren¡¯t you afraid of getting into some sorta jam yourself?¡¯ he said quietly. ¡®Don¡¯t threaten me!¡¯ Tomyn¡¯s expression changed for a second as if he really sensed a threat in James¡¯s words. ¡®I¡¯m not threatening you, I¡¯m just reminding you,¡¯ said James, trying his best to control his emotions. ¡®If the investigation would be reopened, I could also say something, for example about your manipulation of the telemetry and the flight recorder. So we¡¯re going to get court-martialled together.¡¯ It seemed as if the shock had passed, and the Corporal managed to pull himself together, for a mocking smirk appeared on his face again. He shook his head. ¡®I¡¯m not.¡¯ ¡®You think that man¡­ what¡¯s his name¡­ Moncroft, it seems, can get you off?¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter what I think. The matter is what I know.¡¯ ¡®And what do you know?¡¯ ¡®I told you, Jimmy boy,¡¯ Tomyn grinned, showing all his teeth, ¡®remember once and for all, and don¡¯t make me repeat it again: witness testimony, even under oath, is always subjective; telemetry and flight recorder data are objective. I had no reason, from the command¡¯s point of view, of course, to change anything in that data. So they¡¯d consider all your accusations to be absolutely baseless. And they most likely won¡¯t even listen to you.¡¯ ¡®So, you won¡¯t be able to accuse me too,¡¯ James tried to counter. ¡®Otherwise, you¡¯d have to admit that you were a bit of a brownie with the flight data recorders, wouldn¡¯t you?¡¯ Tomyn shook his head negatively. ¡®Nope. I¡¯ll just delete everything I added from the telemetry and replace the deleted file from the flight recorder¡¯s memory with the original one with all the warning signals. And then I¡¯ll give Moncroft a hint, just a hint, that it wouldn¡¯t do any harm to double-check your fighter¡¯s flight data. Surely, Sawyer and Andrews will have to admit that they missed something in their investigation, but that will not change anything for you. Or quite the opposite, it will change everything drastically. Wolverton will one day return from the auxiliary to the pilot staff; you can be sure of that. No one has revoked his pilot¡¯s certificate. But you will be kicked out forever. After all, your other hanky-panky may come to light.¡¯ ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯ James asked in confusion. ¡®A reprimand ¨C¡¯ ¡®Reprimand means nothing,¡¯ said Tomyn with a grin. ¡®Who has no reprimand? Parental permission, required for anyone under eighteen enrolling in a Flying School, is another matter.¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s wrong with my permission?¡¯ cried James, completely baffled. Tomyn painted a stupid smile on his face again. ¡®It¡¯s a fake, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ James was horrified at how tightly the bastard had entangled him in his net, but all he could say aloud was, ¡®It still needs to be proven.¡¯ ¡®Easy,¡¯ Tomyn laughed. ¡®It¡¯s just enough to look at the signature. An adult¡¯s signature is clear and usually well-developed; adults sign very frequently. But the signature on the permission you submitted¡­ well, let me say, it was slightly different from an adult¡¯s and very similar to yours. And you used a slang word that neither of your parents would have thought of using. Adults don¡¯t usually say that, let alone write it. I don¡¯t care, of course, but dura lex sed lex, if you know this expression¡­¡¯ Tomyn showed his teeth again. ¡®It¡¯s called a forgery, Jimmy boy,¡¯ he went on insinuatingly, ¡®which, if known, could cost you your pilot¡¯s certificate.¡¯ ¡®Bullshit!¡¯ James exclaimed. ¡®Okay, I was seventeen when I enrolled at Flying School, it¡¯s true. But I¡¯m over eighteen now anyway. Whatever it was, I¡¯ve got my pilot¡¯s certificate on perfectly legal grounds, having passed all the exams.¡¯ Tomyn laughed again, ¡®That¡¯s not the point, my dear Jimmy boy. You¡¯ve swindled by submitting a fake document, which gives the Qualifications Commission ground to suspend your certificate. Not permanently, indeed, just until it¡¯s cleared up. But that process can take a long time, probably until we¡¯re back on Earth, but when we¡¯re back¡­¡¯ the Corporal made an ironic face and spread his hands, ¡®nobody knows. So you¡¯d be suspended at least until we get back, and then you¡¯d be drummed out of the Space Force, at best, at worst, you¡¯d be court-martialled. Nice perspective, eh?¡¯ Panic gripped James again, as it had the day Tomyn had blackmailed him, threatening to charge him with sabotage. As if he was in some kind of dead end with no way out. Chapter 8 MSV Endurance left its orbit around Triton with the transport craft, and both space vessels set off along the trajectory that would have surprised the first generation of astronauts. The signal to prepare for acceleration mode caught James in the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters, and he hurried to one of the safety chairs near the aft bulkhead. A standard acceleration mode does not require a significant power drain. All spacecraft systems continued to work in standard mode except the artificial gravity system, which was temporarily switched off. It was necessary not only to save power but also to reduce overloading for the crew. Once again, just as when the spacecraft had left the Earth orbit, James felt an involuntary sensation of fear as everything suddenly blurred before his eyes; it seemed as if the air around him thickened and became more like a liquid. This state did not last long. These unpleasant sensations soon disappeared, and his eyes returned to normal. A few minutes later, another beep, duplicated by the information displayed on the intercom monitor, announced that the crew could leave their safety chairs. The artificial gravity system began to work again, and life aboard the Endurance returned to normal. Days dragged on, one similar to the other. Training flights were suspended, but the pilots had no more leisure time than before. James and his roommates took turns at night duty again, did all other work assigned to the Squadron¡¯s junior staff and attended tactical training courses, which many believed had been invented by the Squadron Commander to keep the personnel busy ¡­ ¡­ James was in a great mood. He had just finished his shift in the living compartment going to the spacecraft crew¡¯s mess because the Squadron¡¯s junior staff mess had been closed after breakfast. He already knew how to leave the Squadron location unnoticed by Flight Sergeant Rowling and the senior officers. Such a manoeuvre turned out to be very simple. All he had to do was walk to the companionway with a concentrated look on his face, let everyone around to know that he was going somewhere on official business, and then, instead of going down to the hangar deck, go up. Kevin and Lewis were working near the companionway. They had been assigned to clean the living compartment today. James came over just as Kevin rinsed the rag he had used to scrub the companionway railing thoroughly in a bucket of washing-up liquid. ¡®Don¡¯t be so tense,¡¯ James said, grinning and patting his mate¡¯s shoulder while Kevin brushed sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. ¡®Rowling said ¨C¡¯ Kevin began, James grinning again. ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter what she said. I mean, this is just for¡­ a pro forma. And you¡¯re already sweating, I can see.¡¯ Kevin snorted. ¡®Well, what d¡¯you suggest?¡¯ ¡®Nothing unusual. Just take a rag and move it along the railing without exerting yourself. You¡¯d think it was full of dirt. This is a spacecraft, not a submarine. The atmosphere inside isn¡¯t completely sterile, but there are no layers of dust either. Look¡­¡¯ James took the cleaning rag from Kevin and began to wipe the railing, slowly but with a strained expression on his face, though it was not hard to guess that he was not straining in the least. ¡®Well, like this,¡¯ he continued, returning the rag to Kevin. ¡®Gee!¡¯ Kevin laughed, took the rag from James, and patted him on the shoulder. ¡®Don¡¯t do anything I wouldn¡¯t do?¡¯ ¡®Yep!¡¯ James nodded with a grin. ¡®Mr Jenkins!¡¯ James could not help but recognise this voice, which could only belong to the one and only person. And he was not mistaken. Flight Sergeant Rowling had, as usual, appeared at the most inopportune moment. ¡®Have you nothing to do?¡¯ she said in her usual icy tone. ¡®I can easily find something for you.¡¯ ¡®No, sir,¡¯ James retorted. ¡®I¡¯m just ¨C¡¯ he stopped under the Flight Sergeant¡¯s icy stare. ¡®You already have two reprimands, Mr Jenkins,¡¯ she said in her usual manner, ¡®and I can see you are burning with the desire to add a third. Well, I can give it to you right now. Obviously, you don¡¯t care what these reprimands do to your future, especially a promotion you shouldn¡¯t have even dreamed of. However, I have no intention of continuing to tolerate the bad influence you are having on the personnel of our exemplary Squadron.¡¯ With this tirade, Rowling turned on her heels and walked towards the airlock. As she disappeared around the corner, James recited after her, A middle-aged lady from Ongar went out for a walk, but it bored ¡¯er. And while she went back, a sex maniac jumped out of a bush and¡­ ignored ¡¯er. Kevin and Lewis roared with laughter. Suddenly, the Flight Sergeant appeared around the corner as if she had just taken a step backwards. ¡®If you think this is funny, Jenkins,¡¯ she said with no emotion, ¡®you¡¯re wrong. This is just stupid.¡¯ She stepped forward at an almost marching pace and disappeared around the corner. James stood in the middle of the corridor, biting his nails. ¡®Dumb cunt,¡¯ he said through his teeth, immediately regretting it. Kevin and Lewis had rushed back to work when they saw Rowling, so it was unlikely one of them had heard him. But there was someone who had seen him, and that someone might well have heard him. ¡®Jenkins!¡¯ Flight Lieutenant Jennings¡¯s vicious voice reached him from further down the corridor. He came closer and pointed his finger at James. ¡®Forgot about tactical classes? Jump to the briefing room at once!¡¯ James jumped ¡­ ¡­ Lost in his thoughts, he barely listened to Squadron Leader Sawyer, who seemed quite enthusiastic as he showed some battle diagrams on his tablet¡¯s virtual screen and talked about, as he called it, the new fighter control software being developed in Joint Command¡¯s think tank. James missed most of this. Only after the lecture finished and Sawyer left the briefing room, Wil¡¯s voice brought him out of his thoughts. ¡®Hey men!¡¯ the A-Flight pilot called to them, ¡®you¡¯re all invited to my birthday party tonight.¡¯ ¡®Oh!¡¯ ¡®¡­Huh!¡¯ ¡®¡­And how old are you? If it¡¯s not a secret¡­¡¯ several voices responded at once. ¡®Twenty-one,¡¯ Wil said back, a little embarrassed. ¡®Where¡¯s the party going to be?¡¯ Sergeant Hancock asked, patting Wil on the shoulder, ¡®In the mess?¡¯ Wil shook his head with a regretful look on his face. ¡®Nope. Rowling messed it up at the last moment, so our sleeping quarters, I guess.¡¯ ¡®Nice place too,¡¯ said Mike, chuckling, ¡®and less crowded.¡¯ ¡®Sure!¡¯ ¡®I know a party without booze looks like sex without a partner,¡¯ Wil said, spreading his hands, ¡®but¡­¡¯ Sergeant Hancock nodded. ¡®That¡¯s right, but nothing to do: dura lex sed lex.¡¯ ¡®You mean a party or sex?¡¯ someone asked with a laugh; James didn¡¯t recognise whose voice it was. The question remained unanswered; the entire team of pilots poured out into the corridor and made their way to the living compartment, James too. Wil had taken care of everything beforehand. A pile of snack packs lay on the table under the intercom monitor in the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters. The entire company was seated around the table in an instant. ¡®I¡¯d make a toast,¡¯ said Ethan, Wil¡¯s bunkmate, ¡®but to be honest ¨C¡¯ he made a vague gesture with his fingers. ¡®A toast without booze like ¨C¡¯ someone picked up. ¡®Take your time, gentlemen,¡¯ Mike interrupted, leaning over and pulling a small plastic container, which he placed on the table. ¡®What is it?¡¯ Wil asked wonderingly. ¡®Well¡­¡¯ Mike stretched enigmatically, ¡®for those who haven¡¯t forgotten school chemistry, two carbons, five hydrogens and one hydroxide. Three guesses what sorta substance that might be.¡¯ A burst of joy was the answer, ¡®Wow!¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re a wizard, Sergeant!¡¯ ¡®And for those who never knew?¡¯ Kevin muttered. Mike slapped him lightly on the back of the head. ¡®Alcohol, dummy!¡¯ A row of plastic cups lined up on the table. Mike squirted some liquid from the canister into each, then diluted with water. ¡®What about dura lex?¡¯ Lewis grinned. Mike put a stern expression on his face. ¡®Well¡­ that¡¯s important, indeed¡­¡¯ His facial expression changed to an ironic grin. ¡®But when the guns talk, the laws feel silent.¡¯ He smiled and winked at his mates. Six hands reached for their cups. ¡®Cheers, Wil!¡¯ It had been so long since James had a drink that he almost choked. The drink Mike had made was quite strong. The noise in the sleeping quarters immediately increased. James could no longer identify which voices belonged to whom and who was proposing the next toast, ¡®To all of us!..¡¯ ¡®To all of us for staying alive!¡¯ ¡®Why is there such a mournful mood?¡¯ Mike looked sternly at Kevin, and James guessed who had made that toast. ¡®Exactly,¡¯ Ethan supported, ¡®this is a birthday party, not a¡­¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s a birthday party without music?¡¯ Lewis shouted, interrupting Ethan. ¡®And without dancing¡­¡¯ Wil added with a laugh. A strange feeling suddenly came over James. It seemed to him that something was wrong. He had no idea what it was, just a feeling. ¡®¡­By the way,¡¯ Wil went on. ¡®The problem is easily solved¡­¡¯ He stood, pulled a wire from his pocket and connected his communicator to the intercom monitor. ¡®¡­This is music for all of you and especially for Lewis,¡¯ he smiled and winked. A melody that looked familiar to James came from the speakers. ¡®Gosh!¡¯ Lewis groaned. ¡®Oh no!¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ Mike was surprised. Lewis waved his hand dismissively. ¡®Junk!¡¯ ¡®Not at all,¡¯ Wil said. ¡®I like this song.¡¯ ¡®Me too,¡¯ Mike joined in. ¡®My granddad was buried to this song,¡¯ he added in a neutral tone. ¡®Number two!¡¯ Lewis exclaimed, waving his hands. ¡®Only funeral music was missing!¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s not a funeral song,¡¯ Mike disagreed. ¡®It¡¯s a really cool ¨C¡¯ ¡®Okay, okay¡­¡¯ Wil gestured to stop this stormy debate. ¡®We can do it ourselves.¡¯ He winked again. ¡®Can what?¡¯ ¡®Music.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s right!¡¯ Kevin agreed. What shall we sing?¡¯ ¡®Whatever¡­¡¯ ¡®Whatever but a good song.¡¯ ¡®What do you mean a good song?¡¯ ¡®I mean something not so mournful.¡¯ ¡®And?¡¯ ¡®Bring back my fighter!¡¯ Wil yelled. ¡®Yeah!¡¯ Ethan supported. ¡®¡­Cool!..¡¯ ¡®¡­Right!..¡¯ The pilots¡¯ voices followed. Eaton had a very pretty voice. James was even surprised. He had never thought that this guy could sing so melodiously that he had no need for musical accompaniment. The melody appeared all as if by itself. All the others joined in follow the soloist, at once drowning out the music with their drunken voices. Sergeant Hankook¡¯s gift had done its work. For a while, James pulled follow his fellows, but then fell silent. He suddenly realised what was wrong and wondered why he had not thought of it before. All of a sudden, he felt himself very bad and very ashamed.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡®Hey, mate¡­¡¯ Mike seemed to notice his gloomy mood and patted him on the shoulder as the others continued to shout and scream the song. ¡®Never say die. Cambria will not yield!¡¯ James made no response and, when Mike looked away, tried to slip out of the sleeping quarters without anyone noticing him. And nobody seemed to notice him as he stepped out into the corridor and headed for the nearest airlock. He found Tomyn in the vicinity of the junior staff mess. The Corporal has just eaten, and obviously not without relish. He looked very pleased. ¡®Alright, Jimmy boy?¡¯ he began holding his hand out to James. ¡®We need to talk,¡¯ James said, ignoring his hand. The Corporal¡¯s eyebrows slid up a little. ¡®Interesting,¡¯ he replied with what seemed to James to be a predatory smile. ¡®You heard something during your drunken party and decided to share it with me? Okay, I¡¯m happy to listen, but only if you have something important. We might be seen together and I¡¯m not sure that would be good for our friendly team.¡¯ ¡®What¡¯s good or bad for your team doesn¡¯t shake me,¡¯ James said, feeling as if he was losing his train of thought, affected by Tomyn¡¯s enveloping voice. ¡®I just ¨C¡¯ He stumbled and did not finish. The text he had prepared, which had seemed very convincing to him, evaporated from his mind. ¡®So,¡¯ the Corporal held on, ¡®what do you want to talk about?¡¯ ¡®I want to talk about Steve,¡¯ James finally managed to articulate. Tomyn narrowed his eyes. ¡®I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything to talk about,¡¯ he replied. ¡®Your mate has committed a disciplinary offence. The decision is final and cannot be appealed.¡¯ James heard the familiar sneer in the Corporal¡¯s voice, which was beginning to annoy him. ¡®You know very well, Tomyn,¡¯ he said, trying to control himself, ¡®it doesn¡¯t matter now.¡¯ The Corporal shook his head; a slightly mocking expression appeared on his face. ¡®You¡¯re playing a fool again, Jimmy boy,¡¯ he said, stretching words. ¡®The war is going on. Everything matters now. There is a possibility of sabotage as well as a possibility of banal sloppiness, which can have the same serious and negative consequences as sabotage ¨C¡¯ ¡®Bullshit, Tomyn,¡¯ James interrupted. ¡®You know this very well. The only thing that matters now is our duty. We¡¯re here to fight the enemy, not to keep an eye on each other.¡¯ ¡®Looking at you, Jimmy,¡¯ said Tomyn made a sour face, ¡®I¡¯m surprised. You¡¯re so naive. The boy stood on the burning deck from which all but he had fled. That¡¯s you, Jimmy¡­¡¯ he pointed his finger at James. ¡®¡­You¡¯d be standing on a burning deck while everyone else would save their lives. Say, what¡¯s the point of dumbly hanging around a damaged cannon that can¡¯t fire any more? Is this an example of inflexible devotion to duty? As for me, this is an example of inflexible stupidity.¡¯ ¡®I always thought that poem was written a century before the Battle of Jutland,¡¯ said James. Tomyn grimaced. ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ he drawled scornfully. ¡®It just proves that there have always been plenty of stupid boys like that who¡¯ve taken the word ¡°duty¡± too literally. Do you know what usually happens to them? They¡¯re just dying dumbly.¡¯ ¡®You can think whatever you want about me,¡¯ said James. ¡®As of today, you can consider our contract terminated. Tell this your closest bedfellow Moncroft. I don¡¯t care if I have to testify before any commission again. It would be a great opportunity to tell them all about your tricks, isn¡¯t it? Let¡¯s see who ends up in shit and who doesn¡¯t.¡¯ James had not expected the reaction that followed. He waited for outrage, screaming, hysteria. Either Tomyn failed to take the hint, or the hint turned out to be a shot in the dark. The Corporal just laughed. ¡®There¡¯s one important thing you haven¡¯t figured out yet, Jimmy boy,¡¯ he began with a grin. ¡®Our contract is not temporary, but permanent, or, as it¡¯s sometimes written in orders, until further notification. However, such a notification will not be coming from you. You¡¯re one of us now, and you must do what we demand of you. This is your duty now!¡¯ James felt trapped again. Trying to calm himself down, he took several deep breaths and seemed to return to his previous state. His feeling of being trapped was gone. He saw a way out. It was not the way out he wanted, but at least it was a way out. ¡®Understood,¡¯ he said with a tone that sounded as if he was reassuring Tomyn, not himself. ¡®I¡¯m one of you, okay. But if I¡¯m one of you, I think I¡¯ve got the same rights as any of you, right? So I¡¯d like to exercise my right. You forced me to become an eavesdropper, I broke down and said yes that was my mistake, but now nothing could be changed. Okay, I keep my end of the bargain, but you and your dearest bedfellow Moncroft keep yours. First of all, you drop all charges against Steve. I¡¯m not interested in how it would be done, but it has to be done as soon as possible. You two can do whatever you want to me, except what you¡¯re used to doing in bed together, but Steve must be back to the flying staff.¡¯ ¡®Gosh! How stupid you are, Jimmy boy,¡¯ Tomyn laughed. ¡®I had a better opinion of you. By the way, your dirty hinting could be considered a breach of ethical standards.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not hinting at anything, and I fuck your opinion!¡¯ James was almost out of control. His fingers clenched into a fist. ¡®Understood?¡¯ ¡®Well, let¡¯s look at it from the other side ¨C¡¯ Tomyn began, James was not listening anymore. The desire that had raged inside him so long to wipe that mocking grin from Tomin¡¯s face became simply irresistible. He had not even realised how he was swinging, and the next thing he knew, his fist had struck the Corporal¡¯s still mocking face. Tomyn felt something at the last moment and tried to turn away, but it was too late. James¡¯s fist did not miss. He felt a blow and pain in his knuckles. The Corporal screamed first and then howled. James did not wait to see what would happen next. He turned and walked down the corridor, unaware of where he was going. He only awoke near the companionway leading to the upper deck. He did not want to go back to Wil¡¯s birthday party. Suddenly, he remembered that a lad called Max from the spacecraft crew had once invited him to visit him. That would be very helpful now. After some thought, he grabbed the railing and started to climb up. He soon found Max¡¯s cabin on C-Deck, corridor 7. Max seemed a little surprised but welcomed him warmly. James had a good evening playing poker with the spacecraft¡¯s junior officers, returning to his sleeping quarters long after lights out, unnoticed by the night duty officer. And he was not surprised when, after morning formation, the next day, he was summoned to the Section commander¡¯s office. ¡®Would you like to give any explanation, Astronaut First Class?¡¯ said Flight Lieutenant Jennings. ¡®I beg your pardon, sir?¡¯ James reacted as if he did not understand. ¡®You know well, what I¡¯m telling about,¡¯ Jennings muttered through his teeth. ¡®No, sir,¡¯ said James. ¡®What does it mean no?¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant seemed furious. James was well aware of what he was trying to get at by such a manner, but he did not even think of changing. ¡®No means no, sir,¡¯ was all he said. ¡®What?!¡¯ Jennings barked, not said. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t like to give an explanation, sir,¡¯ James minted. It was evident that the Flight Lieutenant was struggling to keep his composure. ¡®Guess what,¡¯ he spoke up after a short pause and again through his teeth. ¡®I can send you not only to follow Wolverton. I can send you even far away!¡¯ James felt his jaw muscles twitch. ¡®That¡¯s your prerogative, sir,¡¯ he said. ¡®Damn it, Jenkins!¡¯ the Flight Lieutenant had blown up. ¡®It¡¯s not my prerogative, that¡¯s my duty. Understand?¡¯ James had no answer to this obviously rhetorical question. Jennings looked at him with unblinking eyes that now showed no sign of the Flight Lieutenant¡¯s taste for alcohol. ¡®This is not a Trafalgar-era sailing ship,¡¯ Jennings continued more calmly. There is no brig on board or any other room for prisoners. Nobody could even imagine¡­¡¯ he intoned the last word, ¡®such a thing would be needed in a spacecraft. You¡¯ll be restricted to quarters until further orders. Understood?¡¯ James remained silent. Jennings¡¯s face turned crimson. ¡®Get out!¡¯ he barked, so loud James thought he could hear his voice echoing down the corridors. Without knowing why, he turned around on the spot, as if in formation, and left the commander¡¯s cabin at a marching pace. Just crossing the threshold, he thought it was stupid and unnecessary, just like all the other things he had done in the last few days. Fortunately, no one was in the pilots¡¯ sleeping quarters. He climbed into his bunk, lay down, and closed his eyes. If someone came in now and asked him what had happened, the result might be the same as his conversation with Tomyn. Nobody asked him anything, as if all of them knew why Astronaut First Class Jenkins had turned up under house arrest. Mike and Wil brought him dinner. Half an hour later, Sergeant Robertson of A-Flight, who was on duty in the living compartment, looked in and said, as if embarrassed by his own words, that James should call him if he needed ¡®to go out¡¯ as he put it rather than ¡®to the shitter¡¯ as he usually said. This East London lad did not mince his words. He woke up as usual early next morning, and only then did he remember that he did not have to rush to the morning formation. He ate his breakfast delivered by Kevin and sat on Steve¡¯s empty bunk, staring blankly at the intercom screen where the numbers were flashing one after the other, counting the time: fifteen minutes, half an hour, an hour¡­ He did nothing because he had nothing to do. His roommates had long since left for their official duties. Glowing numbers on the intercom monitor routinely counted seconds, minutes, and hours. He continued to sit and look at the monitor but saw neither the numbers nor the monitor itself. He saw the hull of the transport craft appear on the virtual screen of his flight helmet on the day it all began. ¡®Hello, James¡­¡¯ a voice, which sounded familiar, came to him. James, not expecting visitors, perked up and raised his head. Dr Kirkpatrick was standing in the hatchway. He stretched and said sluggishly, ¡®Doctor? Is someone sick?¡¯ She shook her head. ¡®No one, I hope. I just came to see a friend of mine.¡¯ ¡®A friend of yours?¡¯ he replied. ¡®And who is that, me?¡¯ She nodded. ¡®Wow!¡¯ James continued to fool around, which made no sense, but his temptation was irresistible. ¡®Am I already your friend? Unbelievable! By the way, how did you know I was stuck here?¡¯ ¡®Rumours travel fast aboard this ship,¡¯ she said with a smile entering the sleeping quarters. ¡®Actually, Oliver told me.¡¯ ¡®Oliver?¡¯ She looked around the sleeping quarters, and her eyebrows arched slightly as if, in surprise, she shook her head and sat down on the bench opposite James. ¡®Yep. Good boy, isn¡¯t he? It¡¯s just a bit strange that you two have become friends.¡¯ ¡®Because he¡¯s good and I¡¯m bad?¡¯ said James. She smiled again, but in a somewhat other way. ¡®No, it¡¯s just¡­ you¡¯re both very different. But as for you, you¡¯re not as bad as you try to make yourself out to be.¡¯ ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick nodded. ¡®Absolutely.¡¯ James nodded, too. ¡®Well, what if I tell you a story about how I got here?¡¯ She chuckled. ¡®I think it¡¯s a common story. You smashed someone¡¯s face in.¡¯ ¡®Not someone¡¯s, but ¨C¡¯ ¡®¡­a rare bastard,¡¯ she continued after him, ¡®am I right?¡¯ He nodded again in agreement, thinking that the doctor was right to characterise Tomyn that way, even if she knew nothing about whom he was talking about. ¡®You¡¯re right. But the main point is why I smashed his face in.¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick smiled. ¡®Probably because this guy turned out to be a rare bastard,¡¯ she said. ¡®I think so.¡¯ James shook his head negatively. ¡®You¡¯re wrong, Dr Jessica. I did this because I turned out to be a rare bastard myself.¡¯ ¡®Oh¡­¡¯ she raised her eyebrow, ¡®you think you¡¯ve done something¡­ er¡­ disgraceful, don¡¯t you?¡¯ ¡®Not just think,¡¯ said he sorrowfully, ¡®I¡¯ve done it.¡¯ ¡®Hmm¡­¡¯ she paused as if thinking. ¡®But you don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡¯ He nodded silently. ¡®¡­That¡¯s good,¡¯ she rubbed her nose. ¡®Good?¡¯ ¡®Sure. At least you had the guts to admit your mistake.¡¯ He shook his head. ¡®It wasn¡¯t a mistake, it was a choice¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have done it, but I¡¯ve done.¡¯ ¡®Let me say ¨C¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter, Doctor!¡¯ cried James, interrupting her. ¡®I¡¯ve already done it!¡¯ ¡®Oh yeah¡­¡¯ she nodded after pausing, taking a deep breath. ''What¡¯s done is done¡­ But those words, I suppose¡­¡¯ She changed her posture. It looked like sitting on that hard bench for so long was not so comfortable and unusual for her. ¡®¡­don¡¯t have the same meaning for you as for Lady Macbeth.¡¯ He smiled bitterly. ¡®Uh-huh, I didn¡¯t poison anyone or¡­ whatever else she did. I just turned out to be a fucking coward and¡­¡¯ She shook her head negatively again. ¡®Nonsense. You¡¯re not a coward at all. Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t have joined the Space Force. ¡®One has nothing to do with the other ¨C¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t think so.¡¯ ¡®Doctor! ¨C¡¯ he cried and stopped. The right words seemed to have slipped out of his mind again. ¡®You¡­ you know nothing about me but you want to claim something. That¡¯s not why I joined the Space Force. It was¡­¡¯ He paused. Dr Kirkpatrick looked at him; got up from the bench she was sitting on, looked around the sleeping quarters, and sat down again. ¡®Okay, tell me¡­ or you don¡¯t want to talk about it too?¡¯ He shrugged. ¡®Hmm¡­ not at all. I can tell you why not. At least you¡¯d understand what I mean.¡¯ She tilted her head slightly. ¡®Go on¡­¡¯ ¡®Why did I join the Space Force? Um, how shall I put it¡­ I guess¡­ I wanted¡­¡¯ He paused again. ¡®Well, in short, I wanted to change my life¡­ something like that.¡¯ ¡®Yep,¡¯ the doctor nodded. ¡®You weren¡¯t happy with your life?¡¯ James shrugged mechanically. ¡®Well, I just didn¡¯t¡­ um¡­ the prospects weren¡¯t very¡­ encouraging. I mean¡­ I think you understand.¡¯ ¡®Honestly, I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ she said in a manner reminded James of his maths teacher at school. ¡®So, what about the encouraging prospects?¡¯ ¡®As I said, the prospects weren¡¯t very encouraging.¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick looked at him intently and chuckled. ¡®Can you be more specific, please,¡¯ said she. ¡®Well¡­¡¯ he impaled his hands, ¡®something like sex, drugs, rock ¡¯n¡¯ roll, syphilis, AIDS, overdose.¡¯ She smiled and shook her head. ¡®I see¡­ But I do believe you weren¡¯t in danger of any of that. Well, apart from sex and rock ¡¯n¡¯ roll, of course.¡¯ ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ She nodded affirmatively. ¡®Why?¡¯ ¡®Well, firstly ¨C¡¯ she paused briefly, ¡®because you told me about it. And then¡­ your¡­ um, how shall I put it, personality type doesn¡¯t fit ¨C¡¯ ¡®Does my so-called personality type fit with what I¡¯ve done?¡¯ he interrupted snorting. She shrugged and shifted again. ¡®I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve done. I can only guess, and I could be wrong. But I¡¯d like to say that you¡¯re not the type to be easily tempted.¡¯ ¡®Are you a Medicine Doctor or a psychologist?¡¯ She shrugged again. ¡®Maybe, a little of both. By the way, a medical doctor should be a bit of a psychologist. Otherwise, it¡¯s not always easy to figure out what kind of person you¡¯re dealing with. But without it, it¡¯s impossible to make a correct diagnosis.¡¯ They were silent for a while. ¡®Why are you so worried about me?¡¯ he began again. She smiled and shrugged. ¡®Well¡­ how can I put it¡­ I like you¡­¡¯ ¡®Wow!¡¯ he laughed. ¡®And what do you like about me?¡¯ Now, she laughed, too. ¡®Your cheekiness, for example,¡¯ she said with a smile. ¡®And you remind me of my son. He¡¯s younger than you, of course, but ¨C¡¯ ¡®Huh!¡¯ he chuckled, ¡®a maternal instinct.¡¯ ¡®Huh, you keep being cheeky,¡¯ she replied cheerfully. ¡®I suppose you were very popular at your school.¡¯ ¡®Not so,¡¯ said he. ¡®One of my classmates was more popular.¡¯ ¡®Really?¡¯ ¡®Yep, he was a hooker, but I was a fly-half.¡¯ ¡®Sometimes a fly-half can decide the fate of a match,¡¯ she said. Then she got up from the bench and moved to Steve¡¯s former bunk alongside James. ¡®Well¡­¡¯ she waved her hand, ¡®it doesn¡¯t matter. As for your problem, as I said, you almost solved it yourself. You¡¯ve realised your mistake and admitted it, no matter how terrible it was, or vice versa, especially if it was a terrible mistake. It costs a lot. Many people don¡¯t admit their mistakes at all. But that is quite normal, especially at your age. I made mistakes, too, believe me. Everyone makes mistakes ¨C¡¯ ¡®But not like mine!¡¯ he shouted, interrupting her. She waved her hand. ¡®All kinds. The problem is not that you made a mistake. The problem would be if you didn¡¯t realise, you made a mistake. You did. You did it yourself, without anyone¡¯s help or prompting. And most importantly, once you realise your mistake, you can always correct it.¡¯ James shook his head sadly. ¡®Not in my case, Doctor!¡¯ She took a deep breath. ¡®Well, I can¡¯t say in any case, of course, but I¡¯m sure there are no hopeless situations. I can tell you from experience that those who arrested you were also young like you, and they had similar cases. Rest assured, they understand¡­¡¯ She smiled and stroked his head tenderly. ¡®Hey, man of Harlech, march to glory¡­¡¯ James shuddered. Wil¡¯s birthday party came back to his mind, and Mike¡¯s words prompted him to search for Tomyn, which he eventually did and never regretted. And he continued unwittingly, ¡®¡­See, your banner famed in story¡­¡¯ She smiled, and a moment later, they were singing together, ¡®¡­Waves these burning words before ye, Welshmen never ¨C¡¯ They had no time to finish the song. Suddenly, a heavy blow shook the ship, and James heard a sharp metallic grating. The overhead lights went out instantly, and darkness fell around him. He heard Dr Kirkpatrick¡¯s loud exclamation. At that moment, his body lost weight and tore away from the bunk he was sitting in. With no time to react, he floated up and hit his head on the edge of the top bunk, feeling not only the pain of the blow but also a noticeable drop in temperature. The artificial gravity system had shut down of its own accord, along with the life-support system. Such a spontaneous and synchronous shutdown of these two critical ship systems could only mean one thing. Chapter 9 The spacecraft had not fallen apart; James had not been thrown into space; the fear that had gripped him was slowly dissipating. Gradually he adapted to zero gravity. He grouped himself and moved a little away from the bunk bed row where he thought he was. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could already make out the vague outline of the sleeping quarters. As it turned out, he was hovering between the bunk beds and the intercom monitor above the table. Dr Kirkpatrick was floating on the other side of the monitor. James could not see her, only something like a shadow obscuring the opposite bunks. ¡®It seems I should get back to Sickbay,¡¯ she said. ¡®Surely someone will need my help soon.¡¯ ¡®You think so,¡¯ muttered James. ¡®What could have happened?¡¯ She responded with an indistinct sound and said after a short pause, ¡®I¡¯d like to know... Where¡¯s the entrance hatch?¡¯ ¡®I think it¡¯s over there,¡¯ said he, holding out his hand, only then realising that she could barely see where he was pointing. ¡®The entrance hatch is to the left of my bunk,¡¯ he corrected himself. ¡®Find the edge of the table and move away from it towards ¨C¡¯ ¡®I found the edge of the table,¡¯ she interrupted, ¡®but¡­ ah yes, I see¡­¡¯ ¡®What are we going to do?¡¯ he said, and heard her snort. ¡®You stay here, and I¡¯m going to try to get to my workplace. The emergency lights haven¡¯t come on. So I guess we have an oh-so-serious problem¡­¡¯ She emphasised the last words. ¡®They must be looking for me already.¡¯ A sudden flash of light blinded James. He did not immediately realise that the emergency lights had come on just as he hovered in front of one of the lamps. Seconds later, his eyes adjusted to the dim twilight enough to orient himself. He saw Dr Kirkpatrick near the entrance hatch, floating out of the sleeping quarters. A few seconds later, her voice came to him from the corridor, ¡®Shit! The airlock is closed¡­¡¯ She paused. ¡®¡­Of course, it closes automatically in case of depressurisation ¨C¡¯ She paused again and continued, reappearing in the entrance hatch, ¡®Okay, if the emergency lights are working, let¡¯s try the comms system.¡¯ These last words were addressed directly to James. He understood instantly and tried to move to the intercom monitor. Not immediately, but he did, mentally remarking to himself that he had not lost his abilities for moving in weightlessness. The intercom touch-screen was dark and therefore useless. He turned back to her and shook his head negatively. She nodded as if guessing. ¡®I see.¡¯ ¡®Communicator,¡¯ he said. Have you got a communicator? Or a tablet¡­ my tablet should be¡­¡¯ He stretched his hand towards the personal belongings shelf above his bunk, but she stopped him with a gesture. ¡®All this could only be used for comms if the on-board wireless intranet worked. But I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s not the case now. We¡¯ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. The emergency button is on the right-hand side of the intercom screen. Try to find it. The emergency communication system should be able to operate independently¡­ I mean have an independent power supply, like the on-board computer.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re not only an expert in psychology, but also in technical systems?¡¯ he muttered. She snorted. ¡®Your sarcasm is misplaced. You¡¯d better try to find the emergency button.¡¯ He floated to the intercom monitor and reached out, not immediately, but still fumbling for something like a button on the right-hand panel. ¡®I found it,¡¯ he said absently, hearing her snort in irritation. ¡®Well, press it.¡¯ He pressed the button. Nothing happened. The intercom screen remained dark and the speakers silent. ¡®No response,¡¯ he said, puzzled. ¡®Try again,¡¯ the doctor said insistently. James tried. A vague rustling sound came from the speaker, which immediately fell silent. ¡®Couldn¡¯t it be that we¡¯re here ¨C¡¯ he began, but felt silent under her gaze. ¡®What¡¯re you saying?¡¯ The fear that had risen from deep within him began to envelop him again. The doctor¡¯s voice came to him as if from afar. He twitched, trying to chase the feeling away. ¡®I wanna say¡­ um¡­ er¡­¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick hummed loudly. ¡®Could you express yourself in words rather than interjections?¡¯ ¡®I mean,¡¯ he muttered, ¡®what if you and I were the only ones left here¡­ in a sense¡­ um¡­ I mean, who¡­ survived?¡¯ ¡®Of course not,¡¯ she said firmly. ¡®What an idea!¡¯ He shrugged. ¡®I just thought ¨C¡¯ ¡®If your mate Oliver thought that,¡¯ she cut him off, ¡®I¡¯d understand, but not you.¡¯ ¡®Why not me?¡¯ ¡®Because you¡¯re an Astronaut First Class, a fighter pilot. It¡¯s time to grow out of childhood fears. At your leisure, study the spacecraft structure. Very useful to know ¨C¡¯ she fell silent and nodded her head at the monitor. He guessed without words and pressed the emergency button again. The intercom was still silent, but a few seconds later they heard someone¡¯s voice. The voice was barely audible, but the speaker seemed absolutely calm. ¡®¡­General quarters, general quarters. All hands man your battle stations¡­¡¯ James smiled involuntarily. The man used a nautical call sounding unusual in a spacecraft. Dr Kirkpatrick moved him away from the monitor and, holding out her hand, pressed the emergency comms button. ¡®Jon, this is Kirkpatrick. I¡¯m blocked on G-Deck. Send someone to unblock G3 airlock; I need to get to Sickbay as soon as possible.¡¯ ¡®Acknowledged, Doc¡­¡¯ the voice on the intercom responded immediately. ¡®Wait near the airlock, I¡¯m sending a tech team.¡¯ Dr Kirkpatrick floated away from the intercom. ¡®Jonathan Wilson,¡¯ she said, turning to James with a smile, ¡®the deputy mission commander. A good guy, but too fascinated by naval history. By the way, for the future, if you need to use the emergency comms, keep the button pressed while you talk. It¡¯s an old system from the days before sensor screens were invented.¡¯ ¡®Understood,¡¯ he nodded and then added, ¡®what¡¯s next?¡¯ She snorted sarcastically. ¡®What¡¯s next? I hope to get to Sickbay, and you stay here.¡¯ ¡®Maybe they need help ¨C¡¯ he began; she patted his shoulder and nodded. ¡®They need. But you¡¯re still under arrest. However, I think it won¡¯t last long,¡¯ she added, winking at James, then moved towards the entrance and floated out into the corridor. James remained alone in the semi-dark sleeping quarters. The question of what had really happened was still unanswered. The thud he felt before the lights went out could have been an explosion. The automatically closed airlock between the compartments itself indicated a depressurisation. Lights out, artificial gravity systems and communications problems all pointed to serious damage to the spacecraft¡¯s systems. At least the emergency lights and emergency communications were working again. Nevertheless, he still felt very uncomfortable. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and noticed that the atmosphere inside had not changed, which meant that the life-support system was working again. After a few movements to make sure he was comfortable in the weightlessness, he floated around the sleeping quarters, around the table and the intercom monitor above it, and at the entrance hatch he almost collided with Mike Hancock, who was floating into the sleeping quarters from the corridor. The Sergeant¡¯s face showed no sign of fear. Looking at him, it seemed as if nothing had happened and that weightlessness was the most common condition on board. Noticing James, he waved his hand. ¡®You¡¯re here. Great! Follow me.¡¯ James had to climb a little higher, to the ceiling, to avoid running into the Sergeant. ¡®I¡¯m under arrest,¡¯ he replied. ¡®Remember?¡¯ Hancock shrugged slightly. ¡®Not anymore, or they¡¯ve decided to lock you up tighter,¡¯ he smirked. ¡®I¡¯ve been ordered to take you to the Hangar Deck.¡¯ ¡®Why?¡¯ ¡®No idea.¡¯ ¡®Have you any idea what the hell happened?¡¯ The Sergeant shook his head negatively. ¡®Looks like something fucking serious. You shoulda seen what happened in our messroom.¡¯ ¡®What happened there?¡¯ Mike chuckled. ¡®Guess what, you¡¯re like sitting at the table, unpacking your cutlet with green peas, suddenly bang: the light goes out, you¡¯re flying up, green peas on your face, cutlet flies off somewhere into darkness, techies scream like mad; they¡¯re not used to such sorta jam. One of them has blood all over his face, I don¡¯t know how¡­ whatever. In a word¡­¡¯ Mike waved his hands, ¡®just a horrible flap. We all floundered around in the dark for about five minutes until the emergency lights came on. Comms system fell down. I¡¯m trying to call sickbay ¨C no response. Thank God lads were not at a loss and stopped him bleeding; at least he stopped yelling. Are you all right?¡¯ ¡®At least I didn¡¯t bloody my face.¡¯ James decided not to tell Mike about Dr Kirkpatrick¡¯s visit. The Sergeant nodded. ¡®Okay. Let¡¯s move, and quickly¡­¡¯ The airlock to the next compartment was open, but it seemed to James that everything behind it was shrouded in fog. He sniffed, but there was no smell of burning. ¡®I thought something was burning too, at first¡­¡¯ Mike caught his action. ¡®Life-support system is still malfunctioning, moisture condenses, that¡¯s why there¡¯s such a mist.¡¯ They both continued down along the companionway to the lower deck, remaining silent. James noted to himself that there was no sign of panic among the spacecraft crew, which meant the situation should be under control. Squadron Leader Dutton met them on the Flight Deck, hovering near the closed airlock to the hangar. Not far away, James noticed Steve, who also noticed him and waved in a friendly manner. The Flight commander, however, seemed very unfriendly. ¡®Well, you, you and you¡­¡¯ He pointed at Steve, then at James and Mike. ¡®Put on your spacesuits and move to F Deck. You are at the disposal of Flight Lieutenant Andrews. Do you all know him?¡¯ ¡®I do,¡¯ James replied automatically, remembering the Technical Services Chief¡¯s name and face he had time to remember when he testified before the Investigation Commission. ¡®Alright. We¡¯ve got a lot of damn problems, so we need to do this quickly.¡¯ ¡®That means I¡¯m no longer under arrest, sir,¡¯ James put in involuntarily, regretting his words instantly. Squadron Leader Dutton looked at him with a piercing stare. ¡®Damn it, Jenkins,¡¯ he barked, ¡®do you know what you¡¯re saying?¡¯ Then he exhaled, calmed down a bit, and continued in his usual tone, ¡®Yes, you¡¯re no longer under arrest¡­ until further notice. That¡¯s all, go!¡¯Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡®Sir, yes sir!¡¯ Mike and Steve replied in chorus. James followed them. Dutton¡¯s face returned to its former impassive expression and he nodded silently. Putting on a spacesuit in weightlessness was not so easy. In the training ship, technicians had assisted them, but now they had to help each other. Moving onto F Deck, they encountered a locked airlock. And here, all around was shrouded in a foggy mist, too. James guessed that part of the deck had been depressurised. ¡®You can¡¯t go through here,¡¯ someone from the spacecraft crew shouted at them. The voice in James¡¯s helmet headphones sounded suddenly sharp. ¡®There¡¯s huge rubble on the other side. You¡¯ll have to go to the deck above and then move to the end of the main corridor towards the stern and go down through airlock E11¡­¡¯ ¡­ ¡®We must clear the debris immediately¡­¡¯ Flight Lieutenant Andrews¡¯s voice sounded dispassionate. The Chief of Technical Services was easily identifiable by the nameplate on his spacesuit. ¡®Four crew members were trapped in the next compartment,¡¯ he went on, gesturing to his team with some signs. ¡®The life support in that compartment has completely failed. They have less than an hour of air. Sergeant Hancock, you¡¯re in charge. Understood?¡¯ This part of F Deck seemed to have borne the brunt of whatever it was. James noticed concave bulkheads and a sagging ceiling in places. The emergency lighting was down. The technicians were installing autonomous light sources along the bulkheads. ¡®Yes, sir!¡¯ Mike Hancock responded first. ¡®Very well, Sergeant. Proceed!¡¯ The Flight Lieutenant waved his hand and moved along the corridor, following the engineering team. All three pilots moved in the opposite direction. ¡®Easy to say, get rid of the rubble ¨C¡¯ Steve began and hesitated, seeming to remember that Andrews could hear all this talk. Mike patted him on the shoulder, or rather touched his shoulder with his hand. Steve was unlikely to feel touched through his spacesuit. ¡®No choice, lads¡­¡¯ James heard his voice accompanied by background noise. Apparently there had been an electrical discharge somewhere, temporarily disrupting radio communications. ¡®We must do what we must¡­¡¯ They were already in the side corridor that led to the blocked section of deck. The bulkheads here were bent noticeably into the corridor; the further path was blocked by twisted metal structures piled up right in front of the airlock to the next compartment ¡­ ¡­ The next few hours seemed like an eternity to James. Moving the metal structures was no easy task. In weightlessness, the shattered pieces of metal weighed nothing; it was just that all movement was too slow. Each piece had to be carried one by one to the other end of the corridor, where two technicians hooked them together with ordinary wire and attached them to the bulkhead. Such a primitive method seemed completely unrealistic in a spacecraft. From time to time he could hear the technicians in his headphones talking about repairing the life-support system. A group of medics, led by Dr Kirkpatrick, came along, as they three removed the last of the debris blocking the airlock. The medics brought with them four spacesuits, intended, James guessed, for those crew members waiting for help in the next compartment. All three pilots were kindly but firmly asked to get away, and the rescue operation continued without their participation. Flight Lieutenant Andrews immediately found them a new task: carrying the debris to the freight lift near the companionway. Another two hours passed before James had a chance to take a short rest while the technicians replaced the oxygen tanks in their spacesuits. They had to eat dinner in the same damaged compartment, where two unknown junior crew members delivered dry rations. James slept briefly, still in weightlessness, strapped his sleeping bag down to his bunk. The next morning his spacesuit was waiting for him again, along with a few more hours of debris removal. This time he worked with Kevin on the Flight Deck while the A Flight pilots stretched the emergency lighting cables. Then Andrews sent him back down to F Deck, along with Steve and Mike, to replace the bulkhead structures that had been warped by the blast wave, which they did for several hours under the direction of an unknown technician from the spacecraft crew. Lunchtime had long passed by the time they found themselves in the changing room. It was time to replenish their oxygen supplies. Looking at himself in the mirror, James was surprised to notice that he looked as if he had spent the last few hours in the water. The entire flight suit was wet and his hair was all tangled. Mike and Steve looked no better. The door swung open abruptly and Flight Sergeant Rowling appeared in the doorway, hovering over the threshold. ¡®Jenkins, Wolverton, report to the Squadron commander¡¯s office right now,¡¯ she said in a commanding voice. ¡®Wing Commander Burton is waiting for you both.¡¯ ¡®Sir?¡¯ Steve began in bewilderment. ¡®What¡¯s unclear, Astronaut Second Class?¡¯ The Flight Sergeant¡¯s voice sounded as if nothing had happened. ¡®Wing Commander Burton is waiting for you both in his office. Move quickly, this is the order!¡¯ She moved back and shut the door. Steve looked at James in surprise. ¡®Winco Burton knows my name?¡¯ he said puzzled. ¡®Sure,¡¯ James reacted. ¡®He signed the order to transfer you to the auxiliary. And he should know my name too. After all, I¡¯m the first and only arrested in the Squadron¡¯s history.¡¯ ¡®Maybe, maybe,¡¯ Steve muttered. ¡®Why does he need us?¡¯ ¡®No idea.¡¯ Steve looked at Mike questioningly. The Sergeant shrugged. ¡®If I could say anything, boys, I¡¯d say¡­ Well ¨C¡¯ he paused, ¡®move to the office as she said. An order is an order. By the way, it wouldn¡¯t hurt you two to change your clothes ¨C¡¯ He paused again. ¡®¡­From the other side, if Rowling said nothing about our appearance, it probably doesn¡¯t matter for now. The old lady has a nose for such things¡­¡¯ The artificial gravity system suddenly switched on when they were halfway to the Squadron commander¡¯s office. James barely had time to grasp the railing on the bulkhead to land to his feet instead of falling down on the deck. After hours of weightlessness, it was not easy to feel his own weight again. He entered the office on half-bent legs. He had never been here before. The Squadron commander¡¯s office inside was not so far from the Flight commander¡¯s, except that it was more spacious. However, there was barely enough of a place for James and Steve. The entire Squadron Command staff seemed to be gathered in the office. James immediately recognised Squadron Leader Sawyer, the figure of Squadron Leader King looming behind him. Moncroft was there too. Flight Lieutenant Jennings was seated in the far corner, seemingly oblivious to his immediate subordinates. Technical Service Chief Andrews was finishing his report to the commander when James and Steve appeared in the doorway. James opened his mouth to report; Squadron Leader Dutton, having spotted them both, gestured for him to stop. Meanwhile, Wing Commander Burton tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his desk. ¡®So you think the Flight Deck needn¡¯t be repaired, am I right, Mr Andrews?¡¯ said he. ¡®Okay. However, two hangars, I mean the hangars A and C are still depressurised, right?¡¯ Andrews nodded in agreement. ¡®That¡¯s right, sir. We hope to restore air supply within a few hours ¨C¡¯ He paused. Squadron Leader Dutton seized a moment. ¡®Jenkins and Wolverton have arrived, sir,¡¯ he said. ¡®Sorry?¡¯ The Squadron Leader did not immediately understand and nodded only after a short pause. ¡®Very well, let¡¯s get this over with right now.¡¯ He gestured for James and Steve to come closer, seemingly paying no attention to their appearance. The senior officers moved apart so that the two could approach the commander¡¯s table. James noticed that they all looked as if they had just had a bath in their uniforms. ¡®Do you know the situation now, Astronaut?¡¯ the Wing Commander looked directly at James as if expecting an answer. ¡®Partly, sir,¡¯ James replied. Burton grunted. ¡®Usually people answer like that,¡¯ he said slowly, ¡®if they don¡¯t know anything. However, it¡¯s understandable. No one can answer such a question in the affirmative at the moment, if anyone can answer it at all. The spacecraft has been seriously damaged. We don¡¯t yet know exactly what has happened. What is clear is that we cannot continue the mission in such conditions. Colonel Garneau assures me that all the damage can be repaired by the crew. But the repair work requires a number of critical components that are not on board. The nearest supply craft is more than six months away from our current position. This is an old spacecraft equipped only with a classic low-power ion thruster. As you can see, we cannot wait so long because of the possibility of enemy attack. In my opinion, such a possibility is purely theoretical, but we must consider all possibilities. ¡®Mr Garneau is about to send an experimental shuttlecraft towards the supply craft. Actually, as far as I know, it¡¯s a small spacecraft designed for autonomous orbital surveys of planets, or¡­ whatever¡­¡¯ He waved his hand. ¡®Well, it doesn¡¯t matter. The main thing is that this craft is equipped with a propulsion system capable of impulse speed. In that case, the flight to the rendezvous point with the supply craft will only take about twelve days, as Mr Garneau assured us. I¡¯m not going to go into details because, to be honest, I¡¯m not very good at that. So, within a month at least, we could get the equipment necessary to complete the repairs and return the spacecraft to a combat-ready condition ¨C¡¯ He paused once more and then continued, looking directly at James again. ¡®¡­However, there is a problem. The shuttlecraft is not equipped with weapons systems, as it was not designed for combat operations. Our technicians would have to install those systems, and you two would be operators of those systems during the mission. None of the Space Agency personnel are trained to do that, but I hope you have been trained¡­¡¯ The last words, it seemed to James, were uttered with a hint of irony. ¡®¡­So now you must proceed to your new duty station. Mr Dutton will give you further instructions. You¡¯re both to report to Major¡­¡¯ he made a break, looking at a tablet on his desk, ¡®Major Jemison or¡­¡¯ he moved his finger across the tablet screen, ¡®Lieutenant Leverton. That¡¯s all. Dismissed.¡¯ ¡®Sir, may I ask a question?¡¯ Steve said when the three were out in the corridor. Dutton replied wearily, ¡®You may, Mr Wolverton, but I¡¯m not sure I can answer it. Besides, we haven¡¯t got much time¡­¡¯ He looked at James and Steve and grunted. ¡®M-hmm, it might be a good idea for you two to change your clothes. Go to Flight Sergeant Rowling. Tell her I¡¯ve ordered to give you a pair of new flight suits. Don¡¯t forget to put on your name and rank patches. I¡¯m sure none of you want to look like those civvies.¡¯ James guessed the Squadron Leader was talking about Space Agency personnel. ¡®Excuse me, sir,¡¯ Steve began again, ¡®I meant the explosion¡­ uh ¨C¡¯ Dutton winced in annoyance. ¡®That¡¯s exactly what I don¡¯t have an answer for,¡¯ he said. ¡®I meant, was it an enemy attack or a meteor ¨C¡¯ The Squadron Leader stopped him with a gesture, took a deep breath, and shrugged. ¡®I don¡¯t know, as I said, Mr Wolverton¡­¡¯ He looked at Steve sternly. ¡®And nobody knows. As you may have already guessed, this was neither an enemy attack nor a meteorite. Otherwise we wouldn¡¯t be talking about it now. The only thing I can say for sure is that there was an explosion on F Deck. What caused the explosion, I don¡¯t know, and nobody knows, at least at this point. Certainly we can speculate and make assumptions, and spend a hell of a lot of time on it, but I think you understand that it makes no sense, at least not to us. Everybody has to do their job. You have both been given a task, get on with it.¡¯ ¡®Sir?¡¯ James looked at the Flight Commander questioningly. Dutton knitted his eyebrows and signs of irritation appeared on his face. ¡®Any more questions, Mr Jenkins?¡¯ he threw out abruptly. ¡®Oh, yeah¡­¡¯ he seemed to have guessed, his tone softening noticeably. ¡®Honestly¡­¡¯ he spread his hands, ¡®I¡¯ve no idea what instructions I should give you. Barton seems as dizzy as the rest of us. Chandra and Ferguson work on the weapons systems. You both know them both well, I guess. They¡¯ll show you all around and tell you all about. You can figure out what¡¯s what on your own, I suppose. By the way, the artificial brains of this experimental scientific flying¡­ box may not be compatible with our weapons systems. So I¡¯m afraid in the event of¡­ well, you get my drift, you¡¯d have to rely on your own brains.¡¯ With these words he bit his lip and stared off into the distance somewhere, even though the only thing he could see in front of him was the airlock leading to the next compartment. Then he looked again at both pilots standing in front of him. ¡®¡­And, boys¡­¡¯ he paused for a moment, and then continued with unexpected warmth in his voice, ¡®try to come back alive. I mean it.¡¯ He took a deep breath, shook his head, and headed for the Squadron commander¡¯s office. ¡®Nice parting words,¡¯ James muttered as the door closed behind the Squadron Leader. ¡®By the way, how did he say: an experimental scientific flying box? What does that mean?¡¯ ¡®We¡¯ll see soon,¡¯ Steve said energetically, smiling. ¡®That may not sound too exciting, but we were given a real mission, got it? And, of course, Rowling won¡¯t be there.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s a good thing, too.¡¯ ¡®Well, what are we waiting for?¡¯ Steve patted James on the shoulder. ¡®Come on¡­¡¯ ¡­Less than an hour later, having sorted things out with Rowling, who looked as grim as ever but spoke surprisingly kindly to them and gave them everything they asked for without any questions, wearing new, clean and not even wrinkled flight suits, with backpacks on their shoulders, they were both standing behind the airlock leading to the experimental shuttle docked to the lower part of the Endurance. This spacecraft was called a shuttle, but was too big to fit in the hangar. However, as soon as they passed through the airlock, an unexpected problem came up. Contrary to James¡¯s expectations, no one was waiting for them. He felt about the same as he had on his first day aboard the Endurance. Steve, meanwhile, remained perfectly calm. ¡®Civvies have their own rules,¡¯ he grinned. ¡®I mean, they have no rules. We¡¯d definitely have a duty officer¡¯s post here. Have you any idea where to go?¡¯ James had none, so he did not answer. ¡®¡­Okay, let¡¯s move on,¡¯ Steve continued with a grin. ¡®There¡¯s gotta be someone out there, right?¡¯ Having passed through another airlock, which was also wide open, they found themselves in a narrow corridor that split in two after a few steps. An open hatch in the floor apparently led down to the lower deck. James peered into the hatch and looked questioningly at Steve. ¡®I don¡¯t think this way,¡¯ Steve said with a grin, suddenly waving his hand. ¡®Hey!¡¯ Following his mate¡¯s glance, James noticed someone¡¯s figure flashing and disappearing almost instantly at the end of the left corridor. Steve shook his head. ¡®Unbelievable,¡¯ he muttered and paused, then waved his hand again. ¡®Well, if there¡¯s someone out there, that¡¯s where we¡¯re going,¡¯ he said and stepped decisively into the left corridor. James immediately noticed that the shuttlecraft was not very spacious inside. His head almost touched the ceiling, lined with pipes and cables. Taller people would have to walk crouched. They only took a few steps and then had to turn right again, following the twists and turns of the corridor. James did not see any handrails for movement in weightlessness, which was understandable. The corridor was so narrow that they had to walk in a line behind each other. On both sides of the corridor were oval doors, James counted four, all of them closed, unlike the airlocks. Then they had two more turns and another airlock to go through before they found themselves in a larger room, at the far end of which James noticed a large viewscreen almost a half of the bulkhead. The flight control station was right before the screen. Similar consoles were installed to the left and right. Unknown instrument panels were visible on the side bulkheads. Once inside, they both stopped. There seemed to be no one there, but after a few seconds James noticed a young girl in the far corner. She was wearing an emerald green Space Agency flight suit, but he could not make out any rank insignia. The girl¡¯s pose made it difficult. She stood sideways to him, leaning over one of the consoles, and examined something carefully. At that moment, something seemed to catch her eye; she straightened up and turned to face them. Steve was not embarrassed at all, quite the contrary. With a slight flick of his hand, he fixed his favourite hairstyle, which he had spent an extra ten minutes on while they changed their wet and wrinkled flight suits for new ones, and stepped forward, his face giving the most welcoming expression. ¡®Hi!¡¯ he began in a casual tone as if the girl was already his old good friend. ¡®Is anybody here?¡¯ James thought the question sounded a bit silly in this situation, but Steve did not seem to notice anything and continued to smile with a full mouth. The girl looked at them slightly puzzled and James immediately remembered where and when he had seen her. This was the same girl who had sent Steve off quite cleverly when they were carrying their fighters¡¯ artificial intelligence systems to the diagnostic lab somewhere deep inside the spacecraft. He was even surprised how well he remembered her face, which seemed quite pretty, and her ponytail hairstyle. ¡®Looking for someone?¡¯ she asked in a neutral tone, raising her eyebrows slightly. ¡®We¡¯re looking for Major Jamison or Lieutenant Leverton,¡¯ Steve replied in the same way. ¡®We¡¯ve been ordered to¡­ Well, we¡¯ve been told they need lads who can do things they can¡¯t.¡¯ The girl gave him an appraising look and snorted. ¡®Major Jamison isn¡¯t here just now,¡¯ said she. ¡®But you can report your arrival to me. I¡¯m Lieutenant Leverton.¡¯ The smile slipped from Steve¡¯s face in an instant and he froze with his mouth agape. Chapter 10 Loud voices behind them interrupted the long pause. James turned his head. A tall woman in a Space Agency uniform was entering the command section, leading a group of two or three. James nudged Steve lightly with his elbow and tapped himself on the chin, motioning for his mate to close his mouth. With his mouth agape and a dumbfounded expression on his face, Steve clearly did not look like a Space Force pilot was supposed to look. Without a doubt, the woman was Major Jamison. James identified her rank from the rank insignia on the collar of her flight suit. ¡®Well, well,¡¯ she began, noticing the two pilots. ¡®We have a new addition to our friendly team, I see.¡¯ Instinctively, James stood at attention. ¡®Astronaut First Class Jenkins reported as ordered!¡¯ Steve took the same stance, straightened up and drew air into his lungs. ¡®Astronaut Second Class Wolverton ¨C¡¯ The woman nodded and stopped him with a gesture. ¡®At ease,¡¯ she said smiled, gleaming white teeth contrasting sharply with her black face. ¡®The regulations state that you shall pay a social call on your commanding officer within twenty-four hours after reporting to a new spacecraft or station. Let¡¯s consider that you¡¯ve both done that already.¡¯ Then she looked at the two pilots more closely, and the smile faded from her face. ¡®Honestly, I¡¯d prefer to see ¨C¡¯ she muttered but suddenly stopped and looked back without finishing her thought. ¡®You two, what the hell are you trampling around for?¡¯ said she, louder and sharper. ¡®You need a special invitation to come in?¡¯ A broad-shouldered, dark-haired young man ¨C James had never seen before ¨C appeared in the entrance hatch, followed by Oliver, hauling three toolboxes. As he stepped over the threshold, one of his boxes slipped out of his hands and fell onto the floor. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ Oliver exclaimed impulsively. ¡®Oh, a geek becomes a real boy,¡¯ said a voice, which also sounded familiar to James. He looked towards the entrance hatch. The computer technician Thomas was the next to enter the command section. ¡®I¡¯m not a geek!¡¯ Oliver said indignantly, bending down for his toolbox. ¡®Yeah, not anymore,¡¯ Thomas replied with a laugh. Just at that moment, another toolbox slipped out of Oliver¡¯s hands. The boy swore again. ¡®Mind your language, Specialist!¡¯ The Major said sternly and turned to Thomas. ¡®So, can I hope the on-board artificial intelligence system works correctly?¡¯ The computer technician shrugged his shoulders. ¡®I¡¯ve done what needs to be done,¡¯ said he. ¡®Well, I think I¡¯ve done. Hopefully, there will be no conflict between the shuttle¡¯s brain and these new systems. I¡¯m about the systems that are in the process of being ¨C¡¯ ¡®Hopefully?¡¯ The Major raised her eyebrows and looked sternly at Thomas. The computer technician spread his hands. ¡®This is an artificial intelligence, Major,¡¯ said he, winking at James, whom he obviously recognised, ¡®but I¡¯m just a human.¡¯ Oliver must have recognised James, too; a slight look of surprise crossed his face. ¡®What¡¯re you doing here?¡¯ he asked. ¡®Same as you, I presume,¡¯ James replied with a grin, remembering their first encounter, ¡®or maybe you¡¯re just riding along?¡¯ ¡®No, I¡¯m not,¡¯ said Oliver, bending down to pick up the fallen toolboxes. ¡®Montgomery said, I needed practice, so ¨C¡¯ ¡®And you¡¯ve been promoted, I see.¡¯ James noticed two silver stripes on Oliver¡¯s sleeve patch. ¡®Yep,¡¯ the boy replied, not without pride. ¡®Now I¡¯m ¨C¡¯ ¡®Let¡¯s leave the small talk for later, okay?¡¯ the Major stopped them, ¡®Well, I hope your intelligence is not inferior to an artificial one,¡¯ she continued sarcastically after a short pause, turning back to Thomas. Then she looked down at the console closest to her and said with a note of annoyance, ¡®Nothing works here.¡¯ ¡®Because the power hasn¡¯t been connected yet,¡¯ Oliver said back. ¡®Well, get it connected!¡¯ she snorted. ¡®Who has to do that?¡¯ Oliver placed all three toolboxes on the floor, opened one, pulled out something, and slid himself under the right-hand console. The Major clapped her hands twice. ¡®Okay, guys, we¡¯ve got a lot of work to do. Let¡¯s get to it! Ashley¡­¡¯ Now, she seemed to be addressing the girl, silently observing the scene, ¡®I still haven¡¯t got a full list of the equipment we need to pick up from the supply craft. Make sure you take care of that, please. If we miss a single bolt, we won¡¯t have a second chance.¡¯ Having said these words, she looked around the command section again, and her eyes rested on James and Steve. ¡®You guys, don¡¯t you have anything to do?¡¯ she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly. ¡®We haven¡¯t had any instructions yet, sir¡­ er¡­ Major¡­ um¡­ ma¡¯am ¨C¡¯ Steve began. ¡®Commander,¡¯ the Major said meaningfully and continued, answering Steve¡¯s confused look, ¡®Traditionally, whoever¡¯s in command of a spacecraft, regardless of rank, is referred to as ¡°Commander¡±¡¯ ¡®So, that means if I¡¯d have to take command, I¡¯d be called ¡°Commander¡± too?¡¯ Oliver interjected, looking out from under the console. ¡®If you¡¯d have to take command,¡¯ she replied in the same tone, ¡®that would mean there¡¯d be nobody left here to call you anything.¡¯ With a sad sigh, Oliver slid back under the console. ¡®¡­and work quicker!¡¯ The Major winced slightly and shook her head in displeasure. ¡®Just a couple of minutes more¡­¡¯ the boy¡¯s voice came from under the console. ¡®I need to ¨C¡¯ A soft click, as if from an electrical discharge, followed by a loud shriek, cut him off mid-sentence. ¡®Merde!¡¯ James turned. The broad-shouldered lad waved his hand and blew on his fingers. ¡®What the fucking hell are you doing?¡¯ he shouted. ¡®Lieutenant, you should also mind your language!¡¯ The Major shot him an accusing glance. ¡®Stubbs?¡¯ ¡®Yeah,¡¯ the boy¡¯s voice came from under the console. ¡®Not ¡°yeah!¡± Say according to the regulations,¡¯ the Major said with annoyance in her voice. ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ Oliver reappeared from under the console, his face irritated. ¡®That¡¯s better. What happened again?¡¯ The Major looked at him sternly. Oliver shook his head. ¡®I told you, all the cables are mixed up here. Firstly, I need to understand which belongs to which, and er¡­ Where¡¯s my¡­¡¯ He started rummaging through his toolboxes, mumbling something unintelligible. The Major nodded. ¡®I see¡­¡¯ She took a deep breath. ¡®We¡¯re scheduled to start in six hours. Do you understand what that means? Well¡­¡¯ she glanced at the nearest console. ¡®At least the intercom¡¯s working.¡¯ She pressed something on the console. ¡®Control to Engineering, Dave, can you hear me?¡¯ ¡®Go ahead,¡¯ came from a speaker, apparently built into the console. ¡®Dave, I hope the engine system is okay.¡¯ ¡®You can be sure,¡¯ the same voice came from the speaker but immediately faded, and instead, there was a crackling sound, and silence reigned. ¡®What about the connection?¡¯ The Major said menacingly, leaning under the console. Oliver¡¯s head came into view again. ¡®I¡¯m working on that,¡¯ he said. ¡®All the cables were mixed up. I need more time to¡­¡¯ ¡®Come on, fix all these bugs immediately!¡¯ The Major began to show signs of impatience. ¡®I¡¯m trying¡­¡¯ Oliver crawled out from under the console and opened the second of his toolboxes. ¡®Where¡¯s my micrometre?¡¯ ¡®What do you need a micrometre for?¡¯ ¡®Size doesn¡¯t fit¡­¡¯ Oliver disappeared under the console again. The Major raised her eyebrows and shook her head. Steve looked at James and chuckled quietly. ¡®I wonder, if they¡¯re always in such a mess,¡¯ he whispered, ¡®how they fly into space.¡¯ Meanwhile, a muffled curse was heard from under the console, and Oliver reappeared. ¡®Where¡¯s my¡­¡¯ he murmured, rummaging through one of his toolboxes and throwing the contents around. ¡®¡­Yep!¡¯ It was impossible to look at all of this without a smile. The Major, James noticed, was almost laughing, as were Thomas and the sporty-looking Lieutenant. The consoles lit up again. A rustling sound came out of the intercom loudspeaker, and then the voice of Dave, who was still unknown to James, came out of it, ¡®Engineering to Control, are you all right?¡¯ Major Jamison had no time to respond. All the consoles and instruments on the side bulkheads went out at once. Oliver emerged from under the console, this time looking rather annoyed. ¡®Where¡¯s my ¨C¡¯ he began. ¡®Yn twll tin Ifan saer,¡¯ said James, smiling involuntarily. He did not mean to say it; the sentence came out as if by itself. Thomas giggled. ¡®What did he say?¡¯ asked Oliver. The computer technician looked at the boy intently, making a sad face. ¡®He cursed you with a horrible Welsh curse,¡¯ said he grimly. ¡®Now you¡¯ll turn into a leek.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t wanna turn into a leek,¡¯ mumbled Oliver. ¡®I wanna find my adjustable wrench.¡¯ ¡®Too late,¡¯ said the Major with a stony expression. Murmuring something unintelligible again, Oliver disappeared under the console. A few seconds later, the lights in the command section flickered, and then all the instruments came back on. The Major breathed a sigh of relief. ¡®Deconserving a spacecraft is a complicated process,¡¯ she said with a deep sigh, ¡®especially one that has never been in service.¡¯ ¡®She wanna say, this ¡­ um¡­ thing has never flown before?¡¯ whispered James, looking at Steve in surprise and apparently louder than he intended. The Major had caught his words. She raised her eyebrows. ¡®The Apollo 11 Lunar Module never landed on the Moon¡¯s surface either,¡¯ she said meaningfully, ¡®until Armstrong and Aldrin landed it in the Sea of Tranquillity.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯ve no plans of being in Armstrong¡¯s place,¡¯ James murmured, ¡®and even Aldrin¡¯s.¡¯ This time, nobody seemed to hear what he said. The Major shook her head, ran her hand over her forehead, and snapped her fingers. ¡®Okay, while nothing¡¯s working here, Mr Fournier, show the young men their cabin. After that, you¡¯ll check the flight control systems. Hopefully, Mr Stubbs can give us uninterrupted power by then.¡¯ Steve elbowed James lightly. ¡®Wow! We¡¯re gonna have our own cabin?¡¯ he whispered and winked. ¡®Cool!¡¯ ¡®Yes sir,¡¯ the young Lieutenant replied, waving to the two pilots. ¡®Let¡¯s go, guys. I¡¯m Quentin,¡¯ he added, extending his hand to James. James and Steve introduced themselves, too, and all three shook hands. ¡®Is it always like this here?¡¯ Steve asked in a half-whisper. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ I mean such a¡­¡¯ Steve circled his hand around, ¡®such a fuss?¡¯ The young officer chuckled. ¡®Nope. It just looks like the Major hasn¡¯t had a good day.¡¯ ¡®Are you familiar with this¡­¡¯ Steve went on, circling his arms, ¡®um¡­ flying box. We got a bit lost here.¡¯ The Lieutenant shrugged. ¡®More or less. It¡¯s a bit unusual and cramped in here, of course. Those guys who designed this shuttle tried to squeeze the maximum into the minimum. But this is nothing compared to the spacecraft of the past.¡¯ ¡®Like Apollo 11?¡¯ Steve grinned.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡®Nothing to say¡­¡¯ Quentin waved his hands. ¡®I don¡¯t even know what to call the guys who used to fly these spacecraft. Heroes sounds too pat, but I can¡¯t come up with any other word¡­¡¯ Continuing their conversation, the three passed through the airlock in the same narrow corridor where James and Steve had walked half an hour earlier. ¡®We¡¯re on the main deck,¡¯ Quentin continued to tell while they moved along the corridor. ¡®You¡¯ve already seen the command section. Along this corridor we have the crew quarters and the science labs, which we won¡¯t need. Just past the docking airlock houses a sort of two-in-one messroom and kitchen. Well, further on is¡­ heh, a so-called hygiene area. Looks funny; you could see it for yourself later. The aft section contains the reactor and engine sections. But you can only get there through the lower deck. On the upper deck¡­¡¯ ¡®Is there an upper deck here?¡¯ Steve wondered, looking up. The Lieutenant nodded. ¡®Yep. There¡¯s an astronomy lab up there if I¡¯m not mistaken. This craft is designed for autonomous survey missions, but it should make its maiden voyage as a flying truck¡­¡¯ The cabin Quentin had led them to was, contrary to Steve¡¯s expectations, a quadruple. ¡®This is our sleeping quarters¡­¡¯ the young officer gestured to the small room, where one could barely squeeze between the bunk beds at the sides. ¡®That¡¯s where I and young Mr Stubbs will be staying too,¡¯ he grinned. ¡®Not a five-star hotel, of course, but not so long ago, there were no separate sleeping quarters in spacecraft, let alone private ones.¡¯ ¡®There are private ones here?¡¯ Steve asked. Quentin nodded. ¡®There are, but only for the Commander and the Flight Engineer. Well¡­¡¯ he snorted, ¡®and for Mademoiselle Leverton, but only by chance, so to speak¡­¡¯ He pronounced the girl¡¯s name with a peculiar tinge; James had thought it was obviously not without reason. ¡®¡­Okay¡­¡¯ the young man waved his hand and grinned. ¡®Take your seats and enjoy your flight. I¡¯m gonna look at what¡¯s going on in the control.¡¯ He stepped out. ¡®Hmm¡­ I think we should go too, huh?¡¯ James began. ¡®Where to?¡¯ asked Steve confusedly, looking around their new home. ¡®To meet the techies¡­¡¯ ¡®Take your time¡­¡¯ Steve patted James on the shoulder. ¡®He told you to relax and enjoy yourself. There¡¯s nothing to enjoy yet, that¡¯s true, but I like it a lot better here than in the detergent warehouse.¡¯ James nodded. ¡®Sure. And it¡¯s better than being restricted to quarters. You think that¡¯s why we¡¯re here?¡¯ Steve thought for a second and shook his head negatively, wincing slightly. ¡®Nope. If I¡¯ve got Dutton right, and I¡¯m pretty sure I have, we¡¯ve been given a very responsible assignment.¡¯ ¡®So we have to do it responsibly¡­ I guess ¨C¡¯ James did not finish, suddenly thinking that Steve still had no idea why he had been transferred to the warehouse. He felt terribly ashamed again and did not immediately hear what Steve said next. ¡®What¡¯re you saying?¡¯ he muttered. ¡®I¡¯m saying it might be a good idea!¡¯ Steve smiled, snapped his fingers, and winked. ¡®Let¡¯s show these civvies what Space Force is all about.¡¯ James grinned. ¡®Just don¡¯t march like you¡¯re on a parade ground.¡¯ ¡®No way,¡¯ Steve replied in the same style. ¡®I¡¯m not that old rat Rowling¡­¡¯ ¡­ Rajeev Dabir and his co-worker were surprised to see James and Steve. Both technicians were working on the lower deck, in the bow compartment of the shuttle, which was called the Instrument Section but should now be called the Gunroom. But the Indian, as usual, showed no sign of surprise. ¡®Weapons system is already in place,¡¯ he said dispassionately in his indescribable accent, nodding in response to the pilots¡¯ greeting. ¡®The main power is already connected; the backup power will be connected shortly.¡¯ They had to get through the same hatch in the middle of the corridor in the central part of the shuttle¡¯s hull that James and Steve had noticed soon after stepping aboard. James had already thought that was the only place suitable for a weapons system, and he was not wrong. Bulky cassettes of micro-rockets took up almost half of the already small space. It was simply impossible to fit four people in here. The reserve weapon station was placed so that the only way to get close to it was to crouch down. Catching James¡¯s eye, the Indian nodded understandably. ¡®There was no other option,¡¯ said he. ¡®Anyway, control is done from battle stations in the command section. This station is only for the case of the main stations failing, which is unlikely.¡¯ ¡®Can we test the system right now?¡¯ James inquired eagerly in a tone of command, surprised on the inside. It had never happened to him before. ¡®Yes, that would be very desirable,¡¯ Steve played along, saying his words similarly. Behind his friend, on the other side of the entrance hatch, James caught sight of an unfamiliar man and realised what had caused Steve¡¯s lightning-fast reaction. The man crossed the threshold. He was middle-aged, judging by his face, but with noticeable grey in his hair, and wearing a yellow jumpsuit with no rank insignia. ¡®How are you doing?¡¯ he asked very kindly. His voice was the one James had heard before when Major Jamison had tried to contact the engine room. Apparently, the Mission Flight Engineer was standing before them. ¡®I beg your pardon, sir,¡¯ James said, ¡®this is a restricted area. Only Space Force personnel are allowed here.¡¯ ¡®You may not know this, young man,¡¯ the man began, ¡®I¡¯m ¨C¡¯ James cut him off without giving him a chance to go on, ¡®With all due respect, sir, I cannot allow anyone here who doesn¡¯t belong to the Space Force personnel until further orders from my commanding officer.¡¯ The Flight Engineer grunted in displeasure, shook his head, and stepped back. ¡®Well done, old man,¡¯ Steve whispered with a smile and showed James his thumb. ¡®So¡­¡¯ James continued, turning back to Dabir, ¡®can we start testing?¡¯ ¡®You can,¡¯ the Indian nodded. ¡®How could I contact you if necessary?¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know if the main comms system is working,¡¯ said the second technician, who had watched the whole scene in silence and, judging by his expression, had been having a lot of fun. ¡®There is a backup comms system, but it only works with this section. You can call us from the battle station. Keep it up, lads,¡¯ he added with a wink. ¡®Let these civvies know who they¡¯re dealing with.¡¯ Steve nodded his head. ¡®Yeah. What did she say? I¡¯d prefer to see¡­ like, not us¡­¡¯ he pointed at James and himself, ¡®but someone¡­ I dunno whom.¡¯ ¡®Who, she?¡¯ ¡®Commander,¡¯ Steve replied meaningfully, grimacing, ¡®as she styled herself.¡¯ ¡®Ah, our sweetest lady Major. Yes, indeed. By Jove, you¡¯d think they¡¯d all be super-duper. That Canadian King Kong¡­ the name slipped my mind, doesn¡¯t know basic things, not to mention the boy, though he seems much smarter. I¡¯m crying!¡¯ The technician burst out laughing, followed by Steve and even Dabir ¡­ ¡­ Something had changed in the command section while they were away. There was no Lieutenant Leverton. Lieutenant Fournier was at the flight control post; Major Jamison was sitting in a chair in the middle of the command section, directly behind the flight control. When James and Steve entered, she turned to Thomas, who was doing something near the workstation on the rear bulkhead. ¡®I suppose I can chat with the on-board artificial intelligence now?¡¯ said she. The computer technician smiled and nodded positively. ¡®Easy. It¡¯s identifying your voice.¡¯ ¡®Uh-hum,¡¯ she muttered. ¡®How do I address¡­ um¡­ this¡­¡¯ ¡®We decided that just ¡®Computer¡¯ would be a perfectly correct form of address,¡¯ said Thomas. ¡®I hope it doesn¡¯t get offended by that,¡¯ he added with a sarcastic grin. The Major hummed again and murmured something to herself, and then nodded. ¡®Computer, run a full diagnostic on the basic life-support systems,¡¯ she said in a determined tone. ¡®Running diagnostic,¡¯ replied a monotone voice that reminded James of a soap actress. ¡®Hmm¡­ female voice¡­¡¯ the Major muttered. ¡®You prefer a rough male voice?¡¯ Thomas inquired playfully. The Major snorted. ¡®I prefer not to answer stupid questions!¡¯ Oliver, sitting on the floor, had picked up his tools, which were scattered all over the place, putting them into his toolboxes, not where they belonged, as James immediately noticed, but randomly. ¡®I hooked up your stations, too. Hope that¡¯s okay,¡¯ the boy said joyfully, seeing James and Steve, then nodded his head towards two posts near the starboard bulkhead. There were two control panels, side by side, just below the screens mounted on the bulkhead. One of the screens was dark; the other showed the space outside the shuttle, and, judging by the image, it was from two external cameras. ¡®Wonderful!¡¯ Steve exclaimed, taking a seat at the console before the work screen, while Major Jamison continued her dialogue with the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence and Thomas. ¡®Looks very similar to our fighters¡¯ control.¡¯ ¡®Yeah,¡¯ James agreed, examining the control panel. ¡®But the control panel is touch-sensitive, and without our helmets ¨C¡¯ Steve nodded in confirmation. ¡®Yes indeed,¡¯ he said. ¡®But if I¡¯m not mistaken, and I¡¯m not mistaken, activating the targeting programme¡­¡¯ He squinted mischievously, running his fingers on the touchpad, ¡®¡­gives us the same effect.¡¯ A few seconds later, the image on the screen became comprehensible, and a grid of coordinates appeared; after a few more seconds, columns of data crawled along the edges of the screen; distance marks lit up near some objects plucked from the darkness of space by external cameras. ¡®Voil¨¤!¡¯ Steve pointed to the screen with a magician¡¯s gesture. He looked very pleased with himself. ¡®Great!¡¯ James patted his friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡®There shouldn¡¯t be any targeting problems unless the long-range sensors fail. I wonder if anyone¡¯s calibrated those sensors.¡¯ Steve shrugged. ¡®I hope so. But we¡¯ve got plenty of time to check. It¡¯s good you remembered.¡¯ ¡®Just that it¡¯s a bit unusual,¡¯ James muttered. ¡®You¡¯re sitting¡­ what¡¯s the word¡­ sideways¡­ We¡¯re not the ones in control of the shuttle ¨C¡¯ ¡®We control the missile launchers,¡¯ Steve looked at James, squinting one eye. ¡®That¡¯s the point. Each missile, as you know, has its own processor, which receives data from the system¡¯s brains. Don¡¯t worry, old man¡­¡¯ he winked. Whatever it is, this is our first own mission, savvy?¡¯ he winked. ¡®We might even be promoted when we come back.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh,¡¯ James snorted. ¡®A fat chance!¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ Steve made a puzzled face. ¡®We¡¯ve been chosen for this mission, even though¡­ you know. That means ¨C¡¯ ¡®Here was a dark matter detector workstation¡­¡¯ Steve was interrupted by an already familiar voice. The Flight Engineer ¨C James remembered his name was Dave ¨C stood behind them. Neither he nor Steve had seen him coming. ¡®With all due respect, sir,¡¯ Steve began, making a stern face, ¡®could you please step away? You cannot be here.¡¯ The Flight Engineer¡¯s face took on an expression that was not even surprised but stunned, and his eyes flashed with anger. ¡®Aren¡¯t you taking on too much, young man?¡¯ he said in a manner similar to Flight Lieutenant Jennings when he was angry. ¡®No one is allowed near the battle stations but me and Astronaut First Class Jenkins,¡¯ said Steve in the same tone. The Flight Engineer grunted in displeasure. ¡®Soldiers,¡¯ he grumbled. ¡®Yes, we are soldiers,¡¯ James said firmly, straightening up. He was already tired of this civilian¡¯s grumbling. ¡®And we are here to guarantee your personal security and ¨C¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t exaggerate your importance, young man,¡¯ the Flight Engineer interrupted with a contemptuous grin. ¡®I¡¯m not a military man, but I hope I have a good knowledge of technology. You¡¯re nothing more than an operator of a drone, which transports other drones. Whatever you think of yourself, very little depends on you. And the likelihood is that nothing would depend on you.¡¯ ¡®Maybe you¡¯re right¡­¡¯ James spoke calmly, not searching for the right words as he often did. There was no need for that now; the words seemed to be coming to him of their own accord. ¡®And I¡¯m not as good at technology as you are. But apparently, I can do something that you cannot, so my commanding officer and your commanding officer decided to send me here ¨C¡¯ ¡®Military paranoia,¡¯ the Flight Engineer tossed scornfully. ¡®Perhaps,¡¯ James continued. ¡®I know the possibility of an enemy attack is considered low. But that possibility exists. Otherwise, we wouldn¡¯t be here. But we are here, and it¡¯s our duty to protect this most advanced, state-of-the-art spacecraft on its way to and from its destination. So, we¡¯re going to fulfill our duty, whether you like it or not.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re right, young man,¡¯ the Flight Engineer muttered through his teeth. ¡®This spacecraft is truly state-of-the-art, equipped with all the latest advances in space technology. It has unique instruments for scientific research, not for hunting after shadows.¡¯ Suddenly, Major Jemison turned sharply to face the Flight Engineer. ¡®You think we¡¯re hunting after shadows?¡¯ said she, raising her eyebrows. ¡®You think shadows destroyed the Magellan? My doctoral supervisor, Professor Taylor, was there. A brilliant scientist, he dreamed of walking on the surface of Sedna. They killed him halfway to his dream.¡¯ ¡®Politics has never been one of my ¨C¡¯ the Flight Engineer began but stopped under the Major¡¯s gaze. ¡®Oh, it¡¯s so easy to hide inside your shell and not notice anything around you,¡¯ said she abruptly. ¡®By the way, I¡¯m not a soldier either. I¡¯m a scientist. Does that mean I am entitled to stand back and wait for others to pay with their lives so I can get back to my science? You may believe this is not our war, but I don¡¯t.¡¯ James thought the Major had turned out to be nothing like she seemed. He also thought she should say something about Space Force. However, she did not. ¡®I was watching a video online,¡¯ Quentin interjected, ¡®a well-known analyst claimed that there were no aliens, that it was just a piece of disinformation designed to escalate the arms race in space.¡¯ The Major snorted. ¡®Whoever says that lies like Kremlin grandpa,¡¯ she retorted with a shade of contempt in her voice. ¡®Hmmm, funny expression, have no idea where it¡¯s from,¡¯ she added, laughing, going on, ¡®well, whatever. I mean, nobody abrogated the Outer Space Treaty or the Artemis Accords.¡¯ ¡®Anyway, both those documents were suspended after the attack ¨C¡¯ Quentin went on; the Major snorted irritably again. ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ said she. ¡®However, it doesn¡¯t mean these documents are no longer valid; that¡¯s one thing. Secondly, this author believes that the Lunar Orbital Station was destroyed by the Space Agency itself or¡­ heh, by a secret Masonic lodge?¡¯ The young Lieutenant shrugged. ¡®No idea.¡¯ ¡®No idea?¡¯ the Major gave him a stern look. ¡®It goes without saying. A conspiracy theory is attractive because it offers simple answers to complicated questions. But there are no simple answers to complex questions¡­ usually¡­¡¯ She looked around the command section. ¡®I want everyone to remember once and forever we¡¯re all one team. There should be no difference between the Space Agency and the Space Force personnel. We have a tough mission ahead of us. Everyone should do their best, and there should be no conflict between us. Young men showed us an example of discipline and devotion to duty. I expect the same from each and everyone of you.¡¯ There was a long pause. The Flight Engineer shook his head but said nothing. Major Jemison nodded. ¡®Okay, I suggest we consider the incident closed. Computer, exact time?¡¯ ¡®On-board time is sixteen hours, thirty-six minutes and twelve seconds,¡¯ reported the now familiar monotonous voice that seemed to come from everywhere. ¡®Seconds seem unnecessary,¡¯ the Major muttered. ¡®I can change the settings if you want,¡¯ Thomas replied. ¡®Never mind,¡¯ she said, ¡®we don¡¯t have much time before we start. Dave¡­¡¯ she looked at the Flight Engineer, ¡®we should hurry¡­¡¯ A signal light flashed on the side of the battle station control panel, accompanied by a beep. Dabir¡¯s voice, which could hardly be confused with anyone else¡¯s, came from the speaker. The Indian asked James to go down to the gun room; James stood up and headed to the entrance hatch. The Flight Engineer passed him, unable to resist a contemptuous grin. Oliver, finally gathering his tools, caught up with James as he left the command section. ¡®Good old Bowman,¡¯ said he, nodding towards the Flight Engineer who had gone out, ¡®he likes to grumble. He¡¯d been appointed Chief Flight Engineer of the 11th Expedition just before the war. After the war began, all the expeditions were cancelled, and he lost his job. Montgomery invited him here as a junior engineer. But he has two doctorates¡­¡¯ The unique survey spacecraft, demoted to a space truck, could be compared to a disturbed beehive. Voices came from everywhere. Technicians swarmed through the narrow corridors, checking various instruments. Two Endurance crewmen, whom James had never seen before, passed bulky plastic containers from hand to hand through the docking bay. Then, another crewman carried them into what Lieutenant Fournier identified as a two-in-one mess hall and kitchen. Dabir spent a long time carefully downloading a description of the weapons system and a stack of various instructions onto James¡¯s tablet. On his way back, James overheard an announcement over the loudspeaker. Major Jamison allowed the crew to take a short break for a snack. After the break, James and Steve spent several hours testing the weapons system with the help of the technicians. They had to turn to Thomas for assistance. The weapon system¡¯s artificial intelligence had no interaction with the on-board computer. At the end of this process, James had to return to the gun room to sign the long text on Dabir¡¯s tablet, confirming the technicians¡¯ work completion. ¡®Good luck,¡¯ said the second technician, whose name James still did not know. ¡®I¡¯d imagine, boys, you¡¯d need a lot of luck.¡¯ He patted James on the shoulder and shook his hand firmly. And they were gone. James stood on the hatch of the gun room for a while, looking after them and not moving. The technician¡¯s last words stuck in his head. A strange feeling swept over him, and the question he had been pondering all along came back to his mind: should he tell Steve why he had been transferred to the auxiliary? He always felt that he had to do this, but at the same time, he was afraid to. Then he remembered that there was not too much time before the launch and hurried to the upper deck. He found Steve standing with a dumbfounded look on his face near the hatch to the mess room where Lieutenant Leverton¡¯s voice had been heard. The girl was arguing frantically with someone. ¡®What happened, old man?¡¯ James was surprised. Steve snorted. ¡®Huh. I just wanted to talk to her, but she¡¯s like, I¡¯m on duty. Pff, what a ¨C¡¯ without finishing, Steve snorted again and shook his head. James was quite amused at another misfortune that had befallen his mate, and he forgot that only a few minutes before he was going to go to Canossa. Major Jamison¡¯s voice, coming over the loudspeakers, finally dispelled all his pious intentions out of his mind. ¡®Attention, attention!¡¯ Now, she spoke calmly and confidently, without any sign of the fidgeting that seemed to be her personality trait. ¡®¡­One hour to undocking¡­¡¯ Chapter 11 There is no sound in space. Sound is carried by atoms and molecules. With no molecules in the vacuum of space, there is no medium for the sound waves to travel through. At least the kind of sound waves the human ear can pick up. But the spacecraft is full of sound, and that sound is not just the voices of the crew members. Quietly, almost inaudibly, the instruments ¡®sing¡¯, the cabin doors rustle as they open and close, and the airlocks between the compartments make a hissing sound. Sometimes, these sounds can keep you awake, but sometimes, they help you wake up at the right time. Since Flying School, James got used to sleep when he could find time, regardless of what was happening around him, and to wake up practically on time, a little early or a little late, but never more than five minutes. This skill has suddenly become very useful now. There was always something for everyone to do in this small craft with a small crew. Exactly like it was in the spacecraft of the early years of the space age. Constant shift changes left little spare time. James and Steve rotated every six hours on duty at the weapons control station, along with Major Jamison and Lieutenant Fournier, who shared the shuttle pilot duties. Steve¡¯s attempts to get to know Ashley more closely had been unsuccessful. The girl made clear by her facial expressions and behaviour that she wanted nothing to do with him personally or the two Space Force pilots together. On the second day of the flight, she even reprimanded Steve for addressing her by name. She demanded that he address her only by her rank. Quentin advised them to ignore the antics of Mademoiselle Mimosa, as he called her. James thought the young Lieutenant seemed to have suffered the same fate as Steve at one time. Major Jamison, however, was quite friendly with the Space Force representatives, unlike the Chief Flight Engineer, who persistently ignored them both. Once, on the sixth day of the flight, when James had to go to the engineering section, he had been reprimanded. Dr Bowman had said, in his usual grumpy way, that he should have announced the visit in advance and got permission from the Commanding Officer. James guessed it was payback for his and Steve¡¯s behaviour on the first day. The days went by one after the other, monotonous and boring. Six hours in front of the weapons station monitor, a short break for lunch or dinner, depending on the time on board, and a short nap. This time, he slept even less than usual, awakened neither by his peculiar internal alarm clock nor by the light streaming through the open door from the corridor into the cabin. His sleep was interrupted by a sharp scraping sound that came suddenly, seemingly overhead. He rose abruptly and banged his head on the top bunk. The scraping stopped as suddenly as it had started, and James could only hear the sound of an unzipping zip. His sleeping bag unzipped itself as he moved. ¡®What the hell?¡¯ he muttered. ¡®I dunno,¡¯ Lieutenant Fournier¡¯s voice came to him from the opposite bunk. Obviously, the strange grinding noise awakened him too. Rubbing his bruised head, James unzipped his sleeping bag fully. He had forgotten that he had swapped places with Steve. In the pilot¡¯s sleeping quarters on board the Endurance, he had taken the top bunk and Steve the bottom, so they had decided to swap places here. ¡®Maybe it would be wise to hurry,¡¯ he said. ¡®Anyway, our shift time is coming up.¡¯ ¡®Agreed,¡¯ Quentin¡¯s voice was heard, followed by the sound of the sleeping bag unzipping. ¡®Something seems to have happened to the shuttle¡­¡¯ Within a short time, James was in his flight suit and sprinting out into the corridor, where he ran into Oliver just a few steps away from the command section. It looked like he had also been in a hurry and had not seen James. The boy dropped his toolbox unexpectedly. ¡®Watch where you¡¯re going,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®What the hell, you¡¯re rushing like a rhino!¡¯ ¡®A rhino?¡¯ James asked mechanically. ¡®A rhino always runs forward,¡¯ said Oliver, bending down to pick up a fallen toolbox. James chuckled. ¡®It¡¯d be odd if it always ran backwards,¡¯ said he. ¡®And what¡¯s a rhino got to do with it, anyway?¡¯ ¡®A rhino has very small eyes,¡¯ said the boy suggestively, ¡®so it can¡¯t look around.¡¯ ¡®Sorry, mate,¡¯ said James, chuckled. ¡®I don¡¯t dig it. I¡¯m just a soldier, as your boss, twice Doctor Bowman, once explained to me very popularly.¡¯ ¡®Huh, what¡¯s so complicated? It¡¯s very simple ¨C¡¯ Oliver began but had no time to finish his thought. Major Jamison appeared directly above him. ¡®What¡¯s your head stuffed with?¡¯ she muttered. ¡®We¡¯ve got a lot of problems, but you¡¯re talking about a rhinoceros. Get the intercom to work again!¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir, I¡¯m working on it, sir¡­¡¯ Oliver picked up his toolbox. ¡®¡­Contact was broken in one of the circuits ¨C¡¯ The Major shot him a meaningful look. Squeezing between her and the corridor wall, Oliver headed to the command section. ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯ James asked, forgetting the chain of command he and Steve tried to comply in the presence of these civilians. The Major shook her head. ¡®I wish I¡¯d known,¡¯ she said sharply. Oliver seemed to be rushing, not for nothing. The call signal, accompanied by an audible tone, lit up on the intercom panel near the transition airlock from the living section to the control section. The Major¡¯s mood visibly improved; she activated the intercom. ¡®Jamison.¡¯ ¡®This is Bowman,¡¯ came over the device. ¡®Are you all right?¡¯ ¡®I wouldn¡¯t say so,¡¯ replied the Major. ¡®Can you tell me what it was?¡¯ ¡®No, I can¡¯t,¡¯ came the reply. ¡®Everything is normal on the instruments¡­ I¡¯m at a loss for a guess.¡¯ ¡®Acknowledged¡­¡¯ she took a deep breath. ¡®We¡¯ll look into it. If you have any insights, please let me know. Over and out.¡¯ Without looking at James, she turned and slipped into the airlock. James followed her, along with Quentin, who had managed to get up and dressed in the time that had passed. Oliver was waiting for them in the command section, his face beaming. Lieutenant Leverton was seated near the Engineering Systems Control Station. As usual, she ignored James and Quentin as they entered, following the shuttle commander. ¡®Intercom¡¯s working, sir,¡¯ Oliver reported happily, still beaming and smiling. Major Jamison nodded. ¡®I already understood. What¡¯s not working?¡¯ she asked, emphasising the word ¡®not¡¯. Oliver shrugged silently. ¡®Life-support system is normal,¡¯ Lieutenant Leverton spoke up. ¡®Artificial gravity system ¨C¡¯ ¡®Not too hard to guess,¡¯ the Major replied sarcastically, showing she was firmly on her feet. ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ she looked around, ¡®Mr Fournier, take a good look with your fresh eyes.¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir¡­¡¯ The Lieutenant headed to the flight control station; James walked over to Steve, sitting near the weapons systems control station. ¡®Hi! Any idea what it was?¡¯ said he. Steve responded grimly to his greeting and continued with a shrug, ¡®If I¡¯d known, I¡¯d ¡¯ve told. I haven¡¯t seen anything, and the sensors detected nothing whatsoever. So, it couldn¡¯t be an attack. All the systems are normal. One motion sensor is a bit buggy. But it was also out of order yesterday.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh,¡¯ James confirmed. He had had a lot of trouble with that sensor during his last shift when it had given a lot of strange readings that could not be verified from any other source. ¡®¡­Actually, it just looks like a fucking short circuit ¨C¡¯ Steve went on; a loud exclamation from Lieutenant Fournier cut him off. ¡®What¡¯s the matter, Lieutenant?¡¯ Major Jamison reacted instantly. Quentin, leaning over the flight control station, turned to her and muttered something unintelligible. ¡®Could you be more precise,¡¯ Major Jamison said sharply. ¡®Of course, I could be wrong, but it looks like¡­¡¯ Quentin¡¯s voice faltered slightly, ¡®we¡¯ve lost the long-range comms antenna.¡¯ ¡®Huh! Long range comms antenna?¡¯ Oliver exclaimed in surprise. Major Jamison paid no attention to him. ¡®You could be wrong?¡¯ she said questioningly, looking at Quentin. The Lieutenant shook his head negatively. ¡®I¡¯m afraid¡­¡¯ he began slowly, ¡®I¡¯m not wrong. We¡¯ve really lost the long-range antenna.¡¯ Major Jamison waved her hand. ¡®Just a glitch,¡¯ she said in a slightly irritated tone. ¡®Look closer.¡¯ ¡®Quentin¡¯s right,¡¯ Lieutenant Leverton interjected, her voice faltering. ¡®I don¡¯t see the long-range comms system signal.¡¯ ¡®You mean we won¡¯t be able to contact the supply craft?¡¯ the Major clarified. ¡®We can contact the supply ship,¡¯ the girl objected, ¡®since we¡¯re already within the range of the short-range comms system. I¡¯m picking up their signal, but it¡¯s quite weak. So, it¡¯s not yet possible to set up an audio connection. But we won¡¯t be able to contact the Endurance. No signal.¡¯ The Major took a deep breath. ¡®I see¡­¡¯ she paused. ¡®At least we¡¯ve established what happened. Now I¡¯d like to know why.¡¯ Lieutenant Fournier and the girl looked at each other, but neither said anything. Quentin just shrugged. ¡®¡­Okay ¨C¡¯ the Major paused again. ¡®Let¡¯s see what our artificial intelligence has to say. Computer, run a full diagnostic on the long-range comms¡­ er¡­ communications system,¡¯ she corrected herself. ¡®Running diagnostic,¡¯ the now familiar monotonous female voice replied. Silence reigned in the command section, broken only by the barely audible ¡®singing¡¯ of instruments. ¡®¡­Diagnostics complete. The long-range communication system is normal,¡¯ the artificial intelligence reported. Major Jamison raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ¡®Damn!¡¯ she muttered. ¡®Mr Fournier, are you sure?¡¯ Quentin nodded in confirmation. ¡®Absolutely, sir.¡¯ ¡®Well¡­¡¯ the Major clicked her fingers. ¡®Computer, run a full diagnostic on the long-range antenna.¡¯ This time, the pause was shorter. The artificial intelligence responded almost immediately, ¡®Unable to comply.¡¯ Major Jamison¡¯s eyebrows went up, and a very puzzled expression appeared on her face. ¡®What d¡¯you mean, unable to comply?¡¯ said she. ¡®Your inquiry was not recognised,¡¯ the artificial intelligence responded. ¡®Why not?¡¯ the Major¡¯s face showed the full range of emotions. ¡®Um¡­ a reason?¡¯ ¡®Your inquiry was not recognised,¡¯ came the response. Major Jamison snorted annoyingly. Quentin coughed slightly. ¡®I think I understand what it might be¡­¡¯ said he. ¡®When I said we¡¯d lost the antenna,¡¯ he went on, ¡®I meant the antenna¡­ disappeared¡­¡¯ ¡®Disappeared?¡¯ Emotions continued to rage across the Major¡¯s face. ¡®How could the antenna disappear?¡¯ Oliver opened his mouth but uttered only a garbled sound and closed it again. The Lieutenant shrugged. ¡®I don¡¯t know, sir,¡¯ said he. ¡®I can only say we don¡¯t have long-range antenna anymore¡­ sir¡­¡¯ Major Jamison squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and shook her head, which could mean a state of utter bewilderment. ¡®You mean¡­ antenna is physically missing?¡¯ she said slowly. Quentin nodded positively. ¡®Confirm, sir. Antenna is physically missing.¡¯Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡®What does that mean?¡¯ The Major shook her head again. ¡®Antenna can¡¯t disappear on its own. It¡¯s¡­ um¡­ unrealistic¡­¡¯ Quentin¡¯s face took on such an expression that James thought he was about to reply with the computer¡¯s last words. But he just shrugged again without saying anything. Suddenly, Steve nudged James lightly with his elbow. ¡®Looks like the Space Force can bail out the Space Agency again,¡¯ he muttered, looking at James and winking. ¡®What d¡¯you mean?¡¯ ¡®Have you read the description of this thing?¡¯ Steve nodded at the console. ¡®We have mini drones equipped with cameras. They¡¯re designed for long-range reconnaissance. But we can get them to circle around the shuttle, which gives us¡­¡¯ He turned to Major Jamison, ¡®uh¡­ commander!¡¯ ¡®Not at that speed,¡¯ said James, remembering the wordy description of the Weapons System. ¡®These drones can operate with a fighter, but not with a shuttle like this.¡¯ A harsh word came out of Steve¡¯s mouth. ¡®Did you say something, astronaut?¡¯ the Major asked. ¡®False alarm, sir,¡¯ James hurried to help his friend. ¡®We thought about the mini drones that the Weapon System is equipped with. But those drones can¡¯t be used at that speed ¨C¡¯ Suddenly, another thought came to him, and he was even surprised that no one else had thought of it. ¡®But we could try external cameras,¡¯ he went on. ¡®Our cameras have quite a wide angle of rotation. Knowing the antenna location ¨C¡¯ ¡®Good idea,¡¯ the Major rejoined. ¡®Computer,¡¯ she requested the artificial intelligence again, ¡®display a diagram of the long-range communications system¡¯s antenna layout on the main screen.¡¯ The main viewscreen in front of the Flight Control Station dimmed for a second, and then a technical drawing of the shuttle appeared on it. The on-board artificial intelligence seemed to be drawing the image, adding more and more detail. James remembered Flight Lieutenant Turner, the fighter craft systems instructor at his Flying School. He liked to show drawings like this during the lessons. ¡®Computer, three-dimensional image,¡¯ Major Jamison ordered. ¡®I¡¯ve no understanding of this,¡¯ she added. ¡®Very simple¡­¡¯ Oliver stepped forward. ¡®Antenna is ¨C¡¯ The Major raised her hand as if to call for silence. ¡®¡­I mean ¨C¡¯ the boy tried to continue. ¡®Shut up, Oliver!¡¯ the Major cut him off sharply. Young Specialist 2nd Class mumbled something unintelligible in an offended tone while the Major studied the new image on the viewscreen. ¡®Well, well¡­ that¡¯s better,¡¯ she murmured softly. ¡®This is what I understand¡­¡¯ The artificial intelligence finished its work, showing the shuttle¡¯s three-dimensional image in every detail, including the easily identifiable long-range communications antenna. Steve nudged James lightly with his elbow. ¡®Huh, look at that,¡¯ he said in a whisper. His fingers slid over the control panel, activating the weapon system¡¯s tracking eye. A moment later, an external image of part of the shuttlecraft¡¯s hull appeared on the viewscreen, right where the antenna should have been. With one exception: there was no sign of the antenna. They exchanged glances. ¡®Commander¡­ sir,¡¯ Steve called. ¡®We found it.¡¯ ¡®Have you found what we lost?¡¯ the Major responded immediately. ¡®No, sir, we found where it ought to be,¡¯ said James. ¡®But it¡¯s not there anymore. And this is not a glitch.¡¯ He heard distinct footsteps behind him. A moment later, Major Jamison was standing near the weapons system station. Leaning forward, she stared at the screen for a while, muttering something unintelligible, then straightened and looked around the command section. ¡®Can¡­ anyone¡­ explain¡­ to me¡­ how¡­ this is¡­ possible?¡¯ she said, separating each word from the others. No one answered her question. There was an almost deafening silence in the command section, broken only by the barely audible ¡®singing¡¯ of the instruments. ¡®I cannot,¡¯ Quentin¡¯s voice came after a long pause. ¡®Me too,¡¯ the girl murmured. Oliver remained silent now. The Major took a deep breath. ¡®Computer, where is the long-range comms system ante ¨C¡¯ she began but stopped. ¡®Your inquiry was not recognised,¡¯ the artificial intellect responded. The Major nodded, then walked back to the commander¡¯s chair and slapped her hand on the intercom panel on the armrest. ¡®Control to Engineering!¡¯ ¡®Bowman,¡¯ the Flight Engineer¡¯s voice came over the speaker. ¡®Phil, I need you here,¡¯ the Major said. ¡®Just a moment, but you should send someone to watch the instruments.¡¯ Oliver held up his hand and smiled broadly; the Major shook her head negatively. ¡®Not necessary,¡¯ said she. ¡®Ashley, are you taking readings on the key parameters of the reactor and propulsion system?¡¯ The girl nodded in confirmation. ¡®¡­Alright. Phil, you can come out of your burrow for a while. I need your brains.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m on my way,¡¯ the Flight Engineer¡¯s voice came at once. Such a mysterious disappearance of the long-range communications antenna defied any reasonable explanation. James studied the viewscreen once more. It was impossible to make a mistake. The external camera pointed directly at the part of the shuttle hull where the schematic showed the antenna. But there was nothing where the antenna should have been. Everyone seemed to have the same thoughts. Major Jamison, taking the commander¡¯s chair again, drummed her fingers on the armrest. Quentin, standing behind Steve, swivelled his head, flicking his eyes from the weapon control station screen to the main screen, where a three-dimensional image of the shuttle was still rotating and back again. Oliver, sitting on the deck near the Engineering station, studied his tablet. ¡®Phil, we have a problem,¡¯ Major Jamison spoke up. Turning to the entrance hatch, James saw the Flight Engineer enter the command section. ¡®I¡¯ve got it,¡¯ he said. ¡®Can you show it to me on the viewscreen?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m afraid not,¡¯ the Major said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. ¡®As far as I understand, the weapon system¡¯s external cameras are not linked to our external viewing system. Guys can show you.¡¯ The Flight Engineer came closer to the weapons systems station. Steve got up from his chair without saying a word, giving him the place. ¡®You can enlarge the picture, sir,¡¯ he pointed to the control panel, ¡®but it seems this is the maximum¡­¡¯ The Flight Engineer had taken Steve¡¯s place and began to examine the viewscreen with great care for some time. ¡®Are you saying we¡¯ve lost the long-range communications system antenna?¡¯ he began after about a minute and a half. ¡®I confirm. We¡¯ve lost the long-range communications system antenna.¡¯ ¡®Phil, can you do without your specific jokes?¡¯ Major Jamison responded sharply. ¡®I haven¡¯t even thought of joking,¡¯ said the Flight Engineer. ¡®I¡¯m just stating a fact. If you want to ask me how that¡¯s possible, I have the only answer: I don¡¯t know.¡¯ ¡®Maybe¡­ a micrometeorite ¨C¡¯ Quentin began; the Flight Engineer shook his head negatively. ¡®A micrometeorite could have damaged the antenna, that¡¯s true,¡¯ he said. ¡®However, in that case, we would see the damaged antenna, or part of it, depending on the extent of the damage. But we haven¡¯t seen the antenna at all. It looks like... it has been¡­ completely separated from the hull, which a micrometeorite or any other outside influence could never do.¡¯ ¡®What about internal influence?¡¯ muttered the Major. The Flight Engineer shook his head negatively again. ¡®That¡¯s definitely a joke. It¡¯s even more impossible to separate the antenna from the inside.¡¯ Silence fell again in the command section. ¡®Okay,¡¯ said Major Jamison after a long pause. ¡®Can you tell me ¨C¡¯ ¡®As I said, I don¡¯t know,¡¯ the Flight Engineer interrupted her. ¡®I mean, can you make any assumptions?¡¯ The Flight Engineer took a deep breath. ¡®Before making any assumptions,¡¯ he began, ¡®I need to examine the antenna mounting unit. The problem is, at impulse speed, a spacewalk is impossible. Otherwise, these are not assumptions, just guesses. But I¡¯m an engineer, not a guesser.¡¯ Suddenly, James thought he saw something that looked like melted metal right where the antenna should have been. He reached for the control panel and twisted the camera settings, but Steve was right, there was no way to zoom in. Nevertheless, he was no longer in doubt. ¡®Sir, antenna seems to have been¡­ cut off by some sorta¡­ plasma torch or something like that,¡¯ he said, turning to the Flight Engineer. ¡®I cannot tell you how that¡¯s possible, I don¡¯t know. Just if you look carefully, maybe¡­¡¯ The Flight Engineer reacted without any question. He leaned forward and stared intently at the viewscreen for a while. ¡®You¡¯re quite sharp-eyed, Mr¡­ uh ¨C¡¯ he turned his eyes to James. ¡®Jenkins,¡¯ James said, feeling himself smiling involuntarily. ¡®Yes, Jenkins¡­ and it looks like you¡¯re right. Unfortunately, we can¡¯t verify that¡­ at the moment¡­¡¯ ¡®And if you ask me, sir,¡¯ James went on, thinking he knew what the Flight Engineer wanted to ask him, ¡®I¡¯m pretty sure it couldn¡¯t have been an enemy attack. The enemy would likely have destroyed the shuttle. Destroying only long-range communications antenna is¡­ um¡­ illogical¡­ I mean, it doesn¡¯t make sense. On the other hand, our sensors are sensitive enough to detect the enemy¡¯s approach. But the sensors detected nothing.¡¯ The Flight Engineer looked at him thoughtfully and nodded in agreement. ¡®I¡¯m ready to agree with you, Mr Jenkins,¡¯ he said. ¡®The enemy¡­ if these enemies¡­ well, it doesn¡¯t matter; it would be illogical, of course. The problem is that there is no plasma torch or something like that on board.¡¯ ¡®There is a powerful plasma cutter on board,¡¯ Major Jamison said suddenly. ¡®It¡¯s mounted on the starboard manipulator arm. We specifically asked for such equipment to be installed ¨C¡¯ she did not finish; the Flight Engineer nodded in agreement. ¡®That¡¯s right,¡¯ he said. ¡®I¡¯m recalling.¡¯ ¡®So ¨C¡¯ the Major did not finish again and raised her head. ¡®Computer, report the starboard manipulator usage within the last twenty-four hours.¡¯ ¡®Starboard manipulator not used during the reported period,¡¯ the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence responded. ¡®Re-check the period since launch.¡¯ ¡®Starboard manipulator not used during the reported period,¡¯ the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence repeated. ¡®It was the last straw that broke a camel¡¯s back,¡¯ the woman muttered. ¡®Of course, we can look at the computer¡¯s log,¡¯ the Flight Engineer spoke again. ¡®But I¡¯m afraid the log would tell us nothing. The computer gets its information from the same source. Let¡¯s hope our super-intelligent assistant hasn¡¯t gone mad.¡¯ ¡®Is that possible?¡¯ the Major looked questioningly at her interlocutor. ¡®Similar cases have been described in science fiction,¡¯ Dr Bowman replied. ¡®But in reality, nothing like that has been recorded in the last hundred years. At least, I know nothing about it.¡¯ Major Jamison hummed. ¡®How about earlier?¡¯ she muttered. ¡®AI didn¡¯t exist at that time,¡¯ Oliver interjected. The Major looked at him gloomily. ¡®Thank you, Mr Stubbs,¡¯ she said in an icy tone. With a sour face, Oliver looked down at his tablet again and suddenly let out a loud yell that caused everyone to flinch, but he waved his hand. ¡®Sorry, I thought¡­¡¯ he mumbled, ¡®but I was wrong.¡¯ ¡®No doubt,¡¯ Major Jamison said sarcastically. ¡®And could you express your emotions less emotionally, please? My head is already pounding.¡¯ She glanced around at her small crew and continued, ¡®Have you all any more ideas?¡¯ For a while, everyone was silent. James could only hear the faint sounds of the instruments. ¡®The only thing I can suggest is a detailed inspection of the antenna mounting unit,¡¯ the Flight Engineer said after a pause. ¡®The problem is that we can only do that once we have arrived at our destination. If I understand right, the supply craft is currently in orbit around ¨C¡¯ Major Jamison nodded in confirmation. ¡®You understand right,¡¯ she said. ¡®They were to enter orbit around that object and wait for our arrival.¡¯ The Flight Engineer smiled faintly for the first time during the entire conversation. ¡®So, we have no choice but to wait,¡¯ said he. ¡®Agreed,¡¯ the Major nodded. ¡®And¡­ if there are no other ideas¡­¡¯ she looked at all the crew again, ¡®shift Alpha can rest, shift Beta, take your duty stations. Phil¡­¡¯ she looked at the Flight Engineer. ¡®I¡¯d like to exchange a few words with you¡­¡¯ Then she looked back at her subordinates. ¡®Any unusual¡­ phenomena, shall we say, should be reported to me immediately¡­¡¯ ¡­ It was a long shift. Sometimes, James thought it was his longest shift of the whole flight. He stared at the weapons system screen, which showed no change, but his mind was preoccupied with the incident. What had happened seemed completely inexplicable. Especially if the more experienced Flight Engineer Bowman and Major Jamison could not figure it out. Finally, he tried to put these thoughts out of his mind. Only the simple curiosity never left him, mixing with the anxious feeling that kept rising somewhere inside him. Wanting to distract himself, he took out his communicator, which could now only be used to store books he had no time to read and music he had no time to listen to. Having found his favourite album, which he had collected long before entering the Flying School, he plugged in the headphones, leaned back in his chair, and now only glanced at the viewscreen and sensors periodically. ¡®Excuse me¡­ could you help me¡­¡¯ voice came to him. He awoke. ¡®Have I accidentally fallen asleep?¡¯ flashed through his mind. He turned around. Lieutenant Leverton was standing beside his chair with a tablet in her hands. ¡®I wanna say,¡¯ the girl began, ¡®may I¡­ Mr¡­ um¡­¡¯ ¡®Jenkins,¡¯ he went on mechanically after her, ¡®but better just James, Lieutenant.¡¯ ¡®Ashley,¡¯ she said, smiling. ¡®Am I disturbing you? Sorry.¡¯ ¡®Not at all¡­¡¯ he waved his hand. ¡®You¡¯ve a question?¡¯ ¡®Yep,¡¯ she showed him her tablet. ¡®Major Jamison asked me to calculate the distance to the destination, but I¡¯m a total space novice¡­¡¯ He smiled. The girl¡¯s pretty face was now close to him, and he thought she looked so beautiful. ¡®You¡¯re an astronaut,¡¯ said he, still looking at her. ¡®Just formally,¡¯ she replied, embarrassed. ¡®Actually, I¡¯m an engineer¡­ I mean, I studied space engineering at uni¡­ I was, how to say¡­ mobilised because ¨C¡¯ Suddenly, he felt his cheeks burning. ¡®So, what kinda problem?¡¯ he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. ¡®You¡¯re good with computers, I guess. There is a very simple programme for calculating the flight path. You should enter our current position, given our current speed and the coordinates of the rendezvous point with the supply craft¡­ well, or the planetoid in whose orbit the craft is awaiting us.¡¯ ¡®Oh dear!¡¯ she exclaimed with an embarrassed grin and looked away. ¡®I¡¯m so stupid. Of course, there should be a programme. Thanks so much! I even know where to look. I mean the on-board computer¡­ It¡¯s so simple, and I¡¯m distracting you with a question like that¡­ Sorry¡­¡¯ ¡®No problem,¡¯ he murmured, smiling embarrassedly and trying to hide his eyes. There was silence between them for a while. ¡®Are you¡­ listening to something?¡¯ she asked suddenly after a pause. What she had in mind was not even immediately clear to James. ¡®Um¡­ just music,¡¯ he responded. ¡®Do you like music?¡¯ She smiled very warmly; James saw sparks in her eyes. ¡®Well¡­¡¯ he chuckled, still embarrassed, ¡®I¡¯m not much of a melomaniac. I just¡­¡¯ ¡®What ¡¯ve you been listening to?¡¯ He found himself smiling, too, and without knowing why, he handed her the earpiece. ¡®Not a well-known band,¡¯ said he. ¡®They play something like folk rock¡­¡¯ She took the earpiece. James pulled the communicator towards him and turned up the volume a little. A smile appeared on her face as she listened, shaking her head slightly in time to the melody. ¡®What a lovely song,¡¯ she said, smiling, and her smile seemed to James to be the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. ¡®I don¡¯t understand the words, but I like it. What¡¯s the song about?¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ a sailor boy met a girl and fell in love, but then she died and now he is alone and sad amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove.¡¯ Ashley frowned ¡®It¡¯s a sorrowful story,¡¯ she said. James did not immediately understand what changed her mood so suddenly. ¡®Well¡­ maybe¡­¡¯ he muttered. ¡®I don¡¯t like stories like that,¡¯ she said, sounding like an offended child. ¡®C¡¯mon,¡¯ he smiled. ¡®It¡¯s just a song, a reworked version of an old Welsh ballad. I like it¡­¡¯ ¡®Sorry,¡¯ she handed him the earpiece, turned away, and walked back to her station, saying nothing more. James remained seated in his chair, turning a little away from the control panel and staring into the nearest bulkhead. The girl¡¯s behaviour puzzled him even more. During the whole ten days, and until now, she seemed not to have noticed him at all, she suddenly decided to talk to him for a completely insignificant reason ¨C he even wondered if she made up her question just to have an excuse to talk to him, but then abandoned this idea ¨C and suddenly she cut just beginning talk because of a song¡­ These thoughts swirled around in his head, pushing the mystery of the antenna and everything else that had happened that day into the background. He tried to distract himself by concentrating on his official duties, peering at the viewscreen until his eyes hurt, checking the sensor readings from time to time, which, as usual, showed nothing. It only helped until he saw her ponytail flashing behind him again. Steve was more helpful when he showed up six hours later. Handing over the shift, as per Space Force protocol, completely distracted him, and it was only after leaving the command section that he realised how tired he was. He fell asleep as soon as he lay down on his bunk but seemed to have slept only a short time when he was awakened by the loud sound of a buzzer and soon Major Jamison¡¯s voice over the intercom. ¡®All hands, prepare to enter deceleration mode. The countdown is running, twenty minutes to go¡­¡¯ That meant the crew should take special seats. The deceleration mode, as well as the acceleration mode, was accompanied by overloads. James got up and began to dress quickly. Chapter 12 A dark spot on the main screen grew larger and larger, obscuring the stars, among which the Sun, shining somewhere far, far away, stood out only for its brightness at such an incredible distance. A little further, this brightest of pinpoints disappeared, along with many others, as if they had been swallowed up by the blur spreading across the screen. Now, it became clear that this was not just a spot but an object gradually taking on the shape of a spacecraft. Compared to the Endurance, which James had seen outside many times before, this spacecraft seemed much smaller. It looked like two cylindrical sections joined together. One, probably the cargo bay, was slightly larger than the other, where the living and control compartments should have been. Behind the larger section should be a third one, the engine bay, off-limits for the shuttle¡¯s external cameras. The docking port was already plainly visible on the hull between the large and small sections. The shuttle was slowly approaching it. ¡®One minute to contact,¡¯ the artificial intelligence¡¯s dispassionate voice informed. ¡®Comms with the supply craft,¡¯ Major Jamison ordered from her command chair. ¡®Comms on,¡¯ replied Lieutenant Leverton. ¡®Good¡­ ESV One to C558, can you see us?¡¯ said the Major more loudly than usual. ¡®Confirm,¡¯ came an unfamiliar voice, slightly distorted by interference. ¡®We¡¯ve seen you and are ready to dock.¡¯ ¡®Very well¡­¡¯ Major Jamison settled himself more comfortably in the commander¡¯s chair. ¡®I hope this won¡¯t take long.¡¯ ¡®One hundred metres¡­ eighty metres¡­¡¯ Lieutenant Fournier was reading the distance off the screen at the flight control station. The supply craft had already covered most of the main vewscreen by itself. ¡®Docking port is ready,¡¯ Flight Engineer Bowman¡¯s voice came over the intercom. ¡®¡­Fifty metres¡­ Forty¡­¡¯ Quentin continued. ¡®¡­Thirty¡­¡¯ He coughed nervously. ¡®¡­Ten metres¡­ Do-o-cking!¡¯ A moment of silence followed. No one noticed the moment of contact or how the shuttle¡¯s docking port was connected to the supply craft¡¯s docking port. A few seconds later, the voice of a crew member from the supply craft was heard again, ¡®Docking confirmed. Welcome, ESV One!¡¯ Major Jamison breathed a sigh of relief, and James, too. It was not the first time he had been present during a docking procedure. But it was the first time he had felt not like an outside observer but a direct process participant. ¡®Cool!¡¯ whispered Steve, sitting behind him. ¡®This thing made it all by itself. I wouldn¡¯t mind having something like that.¡¯ ¡®Our fighters¡¯ artificial brains are just as good,¡¯ James also replied in a whisper. ¡®I mean voice control.¡¯ ¡®You wanna sit in the pilot¡¯s chair and do nothing, just give commands?¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ Steve smiled. ¡®I think that would be pretty boring,¡¯ James said, also smiling involuntarily. ¡®Well¡­ maybe you¡¯re right,¡¯ Steve chuckled. ¡®Okay, guys¡­¡¯ the Major looked around the control centre and clapped. ¡®We can consider ourselves halfway there. You have all done a good job. I¡¯m glad our small crew has come together so well. But since this is only the halfway point, we¡¯ve still got a lot of work to do. So, after warm hugs and a friendly dinner with the supply craft¡¯s crew, we¡¯d start checking and accepting the cargo we¡¯ve come all this way for. After that, we¡¯d have time to work on our enigma. I mean our missing long-range comms antenna. It would also be nice to think about a temporary replacement, as we¡¯d need the long-range comms system once we¡¯d plotted a course back. Well, that¡¯s up to Dr Bowman ¨C¡¯ She paused, snapped her fingers and looked around the command centre again, ¡®Any questions? No questions. Lieutenant Leverton, let¡¯s check the equipment list to refresh our memories. I hope our contractors have taken care to get everything ready but for any case.¡¯ ¡®We were pilots, and then we became observers. Looks like we¡¯ll have to be dockhands now,¡¯ said James, elbowing Steve lightly. ¡®Huh, let¡¯s see what happens when we get back,¡¯ Steve replied with a wily smile and winked. ¡®I have a vague suspicion, Major Jamison mentioned us a couple of times in the log, and not in a negative way¡­¡¯ ¡®Docking port is verified,¡¯ Flight Engineer Bowman¡¯s voice came over the intercom. ¡®Wonderful¡­¡¯ Major Jamison smiled happily, ¡®let¡¯s open it, Phil, we won¡¯t ring twice¡­¡¯ The Major did not like to waste time; James had the opportunity to verify this during the flight. The two crews met without any ceremonial speeches. Dinner, to which all three members of the supply craft crew had been kindly invited, was spent discussing the work ahead. After studying the cargo list, the Major stated that everyone would have to, as she put it, ¡®flex their muscles¡¯. Lieutenant Fournier¡¯s timid suggestion to switch off the artificial gravity system during loading was rejected by the commander of the supply ship, who cited some technical difficulties. Quentin sighed sadly but said nothing. The plastic containers with the equipment needed to repair Endurance were heavy and unsuitable for carrying through the supply craft¡¯s narrow corridors. Dr Bowman even doubted that the two large containers would fit through the docking port, and he was right. These containers had to be unpacked, and their contents carried separately. ¡®Come on, guys, hurry up!¡¯ Major Jamison hurried them on from time to time. ¡®We haven¡¯t got much time. We must start in forty-eight hours, not a minute later. Otherwise, we will wait another two days for the launch window, which is undesirable¡­¡¯ The composite panels intended to replace a damaged Endurance enclosure plating, James and Steve had to push through the docking airlock, one after the other, making sure that neither the panels nor the airlock seal were damaged. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ Steve shouted, carefully placing another panel ¨C It was hard to tell which one it was ¨C against the wall of the narrow corridor. ¡®It¡¯s the right time to stop and rest. My back can¡¯t straighten anymore.¡¯ ¡®Your backs bent too early, guys,¡¯ Dr Bowman¡¯s voice came to them. ¡®We¡¯re only halfway there.¡¯ ¡®As it seems to me, a short rest wouldn¡¯t do any harm,¡¯ Major Jamison objected, appearing from around the corner. I need no crippled crew on the way back. Since our mess has been turned into a storage room, we¡¯d have to temporarily move the rest and eating areas into the command section. I¡¯ve already asked Lieutenant Leverton to take our dry rations there.¡¯ Steve looked at the Major gratefully. ¡®Don¡¯t thank me, Mr Wolverton,¡¯ she said with a smile, running her hand over her forehead. ¡®Honestly, I¡¯m as tired as a dog myself¡­¡¯ Just entering the command section, James felt dead tired, too. He glanced at the weapons station monitor and was surprised to find that eight of the forty-eight hours had already passed, though he had not noticed. All the others looked not better, even Dr Bowman. Quentin followed James in, breathing heavily. Ashley, using the comms screen as a mirror, wiped the sweat from her brow and straightened her hairstyle. Oliver plopped down in a chair near the engineering station and sat motionless. The Major was sitting in the commander¡¯s chair with her eyes closed. ¡®Not the best use of the messroom,¡¯ Steve muttered as he opened the packet of dry rations Ashley had handed him. ¡®All those iron things belong in the cargo bay.¡¯ Dr Bowman frowned. ¡®There¡¯s no cargo bay,¡¯ said he. ¡®The craft was designed to explore the planets of the Solar System.¡¯ ¡®Is there anything left to explore?¡¯ Steve asked, seeming a bit surprised. ¡®There is, and plenty of it,¡¯ Major Jamison hastened to intervene, noticing the change in the Flight Engineer¡¯s face. ¡®Even if the Sol System looked like it was believed to look in the mid-twentieth century, we could be sure that we would have explored only a quarter of it. But because the system is so much larger and more complex, we can say with certainty that we have only explored about ten per cent of it. The internal structure of most planets and their moons are still guessed. And not all of these guesses have been confirmed. For example, beneath the icy surface of Ganymede, we had assumed to find an ocean of liquid water ¨C¡¯ ¡®But it turns out it¡¯s not water, but ammonia-water slurry,¡¯ Oliver interrupted. The Major nodded his head in agreement with a smile. ¡®Good example.¡¯ ¡®The universe is too complicated for one mind to comprehend,¡¯ Quentin said philosophically, yawning. ¡®We still don¡¯t know where it all came from.¡¯ ¡®Not the universe, but your assumption is too complicated,¡¯ Ashley said. ¡®At least I understood nothing.¡¯ Quentin snorted, but there was no further dialogue. ¡®Is this substance valuable?¡¯ Steve asked. ¡®I mean this er¡­ ammonia-water something. Well, for us¡­ for humanity?¡¯ The Major looked at him in bewilderment. ¡®You mean from an economic point of view?¡¯ she said. ¡®Not at all. What¡¯s the question?¡¯ ¡®Well, I thought¡­¡¯ Steve continued. ¡®Otherwise, what¡¯s it all for?¡¯ Dr Bowman tilted his head slightly to one side, his face taking on a serious expression. ¡®Not everything has material value, if that¡¯s what you mean, young man,¡¯ he said. ¡®Non fasces, nec opes sola artim sceptra perennant, which means neither wealth nor power, but only knowledge alone lasts ¨C the motto of the great Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s all?¡¯ asked Steve, who seemed to be a bit puzzled. You¡¯re saying we''re studying space just for¡­ knowledge?¡¯ Dr Bowman took a breath and shook his head slightly. ¡®Knowledge drives progress,¡¯ he said edifyingly. ¡®When Becquerel, Rutherford and others studied radioactivity, no one, not even themselves, imagined their work would lead to nuclear power.¡¯ ¡®And eventually to the creation of the engine that has brought us here now,¡¯ Oliver put in, smiling broadly. ¡®Yeah, and that we have to fight unknown creatures, nobody knows where they came from,¡¯ James added. ¡®Uh, well¡­¡¯ Oliver shrugged, ¡®that¡¯s right. Unlikely old Bart could imagine something like that.¡¯ ¡®Bart, who?¡¯ asked Steve. The boy gave him a puzzled look. ¡®You two have been flying the craft with the Cooper engine,¡¯ he said expressively, ¡®and you haven¡¯t heard of Bart Cooper?¡¯ ¡®Well, I know this guy created the Cooper engine,¡¯ said James. ¡®Not really,¡¯ Oliver chuckled. ¡®I mean, he began to create it. There were still a lot of people who had to work hard. But of course, Cooper had done a lot of things, too. First of all, he laid the theoretical foundations. In the beginning, he worked for Musk ¨C¡¯ ¡®That was the jerk who yelled: Forward to Mars!¡¯ said Steve with a chuckle. ¡®You¡¯re mistaking him for Zander, who lived about a hundred years earlier,¡¯ said the boy. ¡®By the way, he wasn¡¯t yelling anything, it was just his motto. Musk was ¨C¡¯ ¡®An adventurer,¡¯ James picked up. ¡®Not just an adventurer,¡¯ Major Jamison said with a smile. ¡®He was a pompous, narcissistic, bloody rich bloke who thought he could do whatever he wanted.¡¯ ¡®Maybe,¡¯ Oliver spoke up again, wincing slightly. ¡®Anyway, he took space technology to the next level. I wanna say he put together a team of scientists and engineers who have done more than the scientists and engineers of several countries together.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Major Jamison nodded. ¡®Musk really has done a lot to advance space technology. But I think he¡¯d have done more if he¡¯d stayed out of what he understood nothing about.¡¯ She looked at Oliver slyly. The boy did not seem to notice the twist in her gaze. ¡®So where was I?¡¯ he continued. ¡®Ah yeah, Cooper started working with Musk being still a uni student. Eventually he became a project manager. But then they had a falling-out. Cooper was a very ambitious bloke, too ¨C¡¯ ¡®Like someone you know, I don¡¯t want to point fingers,¡¯ Ashley chimed in with a slightly ironic smile. Oliver frowned. ¡®If you¡¯re not interested,¡¯ he muttered, ¡®I won¡¯t go any further.¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s interesting, indeed,¡¯ James encouraged the boy, barely able to contain his laughter. ¡®Go on!¡¯ ¡®Well, to make a long story short,¡¯ Oliver went on, seeming to forget his wounded pride immediately, ¡®Cooper eventually fell out with him and started his own project for NASA ¨C¡¯ Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡®Callisto-two thousand and forty¡­ something?¡¯ said James. Oliver nodded in confirmation. ¡®Forty-two.¡¯ ¡®Which failed?¡¯ ¡®Not at all!¡¯ Oliver said these words with a note of resentment in his voice. ¡®The mission has taken place. Okay, twelve years later than planned, that¡¯s right, but they had no choice. Otherwise, it could end up like the first crewed Mars mission, which really was a failure, and with such a fizzle that it even put further space exploration into question for a while. So they couldn¡¯t take any risks. As a result, they made a breakthrough ¨C¡¯ ¡®Yeah, a breakthrough,¡¯ James chuckled. ¡®They found out that all Jupiter¡¯s largest moons are just giant snowballs, and there¡¯s no life form there because there couldn¡¯t be.¡¯ Oliver waved his hand. ¡®That was known before, not the point,¡¯ he said. ¡®This was the first step toward the next level. The main problem was speed. As you know, all the probes that explored the outer planets at an early stage took years to reach their destinations. This is despite all the gravity-assist manoeuvres around Jupiter or any other giant to increase speed. With all the unsolved problems of radiation protection, prolonged zero gravity, and so on, that was too long for a crewed mission. Cooper decided to try a radically different approach ¨C¡¯ ¡®If I remember rightly,¡¯ James interrupted, ¡®the impulse engine principle was known even earlier. Something similar was proposed for the Daedalus project¡¯s propulsion system ¨C¡¯ ¡®British project, by the way,¡¯ Steve interjected snidely. Oliver waved his hand. ¡®That¡¯s right,¡¯ he admitted. ¡®Just a whole bunch of problems appeared at once. First of all¡­ um¡­ well, never mind. These problems could be solved in time, of course, but Cooper went further¡­ er¡­ In short, he came up with a theory. But the theory seemed so audacious to him that he decided it was wrong and didn¡¯t even bother to publish his results. Maybe he was afraid he¡¯d be considered mad, I don¡¯t know. So he went back to his previous work. That might have been the end, except for a couple of new adventurers. Two guys from Caltech, Schw?rmer and Sn¨ªlek, took Cooper¡¯s work, thought about it a bit, and concluded that Cooper wasn¡¯t mad, and his theory didn¡¯t break the laws of physics in any way. But when they went to Cooper, he didn¡¯t want to listen to them and threw them out. So they had to do it themselves and build a pulse engine in their garage.¡¯ Finishing his monologue, the young Specialist 2nd Class exhaled and ran his hand over his forehead as if to wipe away sweat. The Major smiled; Ashley chuckled. ¡®Huh, great!¡¯ Steve exclaimed. ¡®I just didn¡¯t understand¡­¡¯ he added, grinning, ¡®why was the engine named after Cooper?¡¯ ¡®Well, because ¨C¡¯ Oliver paused and shrugged. ¡®Um¡­ maybe like¡­ a homage to Cooper¡­ To be honest, I don¡¯t know.¡¯ ¡®You should have said that at first,¡¯ the Major said with a chuckle. Oliver mumbled something in a disgruntled tone again. ¡®Nothing unusual,¡¯ said Quentin. ¡®Stigler¡¯s law says no scientific discovery is named after its original discoverer. Take Columbus, for example, but he was the one who discovered America.¡¯ ¡®A Welsh prince, whose name, if I¡¯m not mistaken, was Madawg ap Owain, sailed across the Atlantic over three hundred years before Columbus,¡¯ said James. The Lieutenant grinned. ¡®Tell us that Antarctica was also discovered by a Welshman,¡¯ he said. ¡®I won¡¯t. Antarctica was discovered by James Clark Ross ¨C¡¯ ¡®¡­Who was a Scot,¡¯ Dr Bowman continued after James, chuckled. ¡®However, to be precise,¡¯ he added in a serious tone, ¡®Antarctica was discovered by American whalers and Russian naval sailors at almost the same time, so it¡¯s impossible to give primacy to one or the other. But they never realised what they¡¯d discovered, so you¡¯re partly right. Ross was the first to guess that it was a continent, not a group of islands, so ¨C¡¯ Major Jamison did not let him finish. She clapped her hands. ¡®That¡¯s nice,¡¯ she said, ¡®but we¡¯ve still got a lot of work to do. Phil, have you already thought about restoring the long-range antenna?¡¯ ¡®I have,¡¯ Oliver put in suddenly, earning a momentary and thoroughly unfriendly gaze from the Major¡¯s side. ¡®I didn¡¯t ask you, Specialist 2nd Class,¡¯ she said sternly. ¡®I just wanna say ¨C¡¯ Oliver started again and fell silent under the commanding officer¡¯s gaze. ¡®I¡¯d be happy to listen to you if I deem it necessary,¡¯ she said, ¡®I would just like to remind you that it¡¯s not allowed to interrupt the conversation of senior officers under any circumstances. I¡¯m reprimanding you for the first time.¡¯ ¡®Permission to speak freely?¡¯ Oliver began again. ¡®You¡¯ve been watching too many TV shows,¡¯ James hastened to interrupt him thinking the boy a bit carried away. ¡®I don¡¯t know what a Space Agency senior officer could say to you; a Space Force senior officer would simply say no.¡¯ ¡®Neither would a senior Space Agency officer,¡¯ the Major added. Oliver frowned resentfully. ¡®A hundred years ago¡­¡¯ he muttered. James noticed the Major and Dr Bowman exchange glances, and both smiled. ¡®A hundred years ago,¡¯ said the Major, ¡®becoming an astronaut required a master¡¯s degree, followed by at least three years¡¯ experience,¡¯ she said with meaning. ¡®Have you any of that?¡¯ The boy said nothing this time. The Major looked at Dr Bowman and winked. ¡®So,¡¯ she continued, glancing at Oliver again, ¡®since we¡¯ve already finished eating, you should clean up this area before you join us again. All these dry ration wrappers, crumbs, and so on should be removed. This is the command centre, not a McDonald¡¯s.¡¯ Oliver muttered something again in an aggrieved tone. Steve patted him on the shoulder. ¡®Congrats! You caught an extra duty.¡¯ ¡®All the others,¡¯ the Major continued, clapping her hands again, ¡®let¡¯s get up and go; the work is waiting for us¡­¡¯ The shuttlecraft crew made a beeline for the exit. James went too, mentally calculating how many more composite panels would be left and when this loading and unloading work would finally be over. Then, he suddenly thought that Flight Sergeant Rowling would not certainly limit herself to such a lenient punishment. Not surprisingly, discipline in the Space Agency was left to be desired. Both crews continued to work for the next six hours until Major Jamison looked around at her tired subordinates and said, ¡®We¡¯ve done enough for today.¡¯ This happened at the most opportune moment. James already felt like he could barely stay upright. He wanted to sit down as soon as possible or better to lie down. But he still had to return to the shuttle command centre. The supply craft¡¯s shift officer asked for data on enemy vehicles from the battle station¡¯s database in case one suddenly appeared nearby so that the craft¡¯s electronic brains could quickly identify them. The only person he found in the command centre was Oliver. The boy was at the engineering station, taking readings and talking to Dr Bowman on the intercom. He had transmitted all the necessary data to the supply ship while listening to Steve¡¯s lecture to the duty officer on the manoeuvrability of enemy craft when Ashley suddenly appeared, almost followed by Major Jamison. ¡®Mr Jenkins,¡¯ she began, ¡®have you given Mr Dodson all the information he needs?¡¯ James confirmed. ¡®Wonderful,¡¯ said she, nodding. ¡®It looks like the supply craft¡¯s database is quite out of date; that¡¯s not surprising, they left Earth earlier than Endurance. Well¡­ I must say¡­¡¯ A slightly confused look appeared on her face. ¡®¡­We have a problem.¡¯ ¡®What kinda problem?¡¯ asked Oliver. ¡®If you mean the long-range comms system¡­¡¯ James smiled involuntarily. It seemed the reprimand and extra duty did not have any effect on the overactive Specialist 2nd Class. The Major visibly pursed her lips. It looked like the same thought had occurred to her. ¡®No, Mr Stubbs,¡¯ she said, giving him an expressive look. ¡®Dr Bowman and you will work on that tomorrow, after the full six, at least, hours of sleep we all need to recover. Actually, that¡¯s the problem. We¡¯ve had to take all but one of the sleeping cabins because we haven¡¯t figured out where to put some of the equipment, which requires very delicate handling. Our friendly hosts offered us their hospitality for a conditional night aboard their spacecraft. However, they haven¡¯t much accommodation. So, some of us will have to stay here.¡¯ She paused and looked at Ashley, then at James and Oliver. ¡®Well, since the three of you are here, you¡¯d stay, okay? Lieutenant, you¡¯re in charge until I get back.¡¯ Ashley seemed completely unprepared for this turn of events. James caught the look of confusion in her eyes. Major Jamison, on the other hand, either did not notice or pretended not to. ¡®Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just a formality,¡¯ ¡¯ she said. ¡®The shuttle is docked with the supply craft. Nevertheless, I want to be sure that everything is under control, okay?¡¯ She looked directly at Ashley. The girl nodded confusedly. ¡®Okay,¡¯ Major Jamison smiled barely noticeably, but then her usual expression returned to her face. ¡®That doesn¡¯t mean you have to be on alert all the time,¡¯ she continued. ¡®If something happened, the shuttle¡¯s artificial brain would make a noise that would wake even a dead¡­¡¯ She smiled again and winked. ¡®Computer, transfer the control to Lieutenant Ashley Leverton from this moment until further notice.¡¯ ¡®Transfer complete,¡¯ the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence reported after a short pause. ¡®ESV One is now under the control of Lieutenant Ashley Leverton until further notice.¡¯ ¡®Wonderful, I can sleep well now and wish you the same.¡¯ The Major waved her hand as if to say goodbye and headed for the entrance airlock. ¡®Huh? We have to sleep here?¡¯ Oliver said, wincing in displeasure and looking around the command section. ¡®No, she said, one cabin remained free,¡¯ Ashley muttered, not so surely. ¡®Not quite free,¡¯ James went on after her. ¡®If I understood rightly, the Major meant your cabin.¡¯ A puzzled and slightly confused expression appeared on the girl¡¯s face. James spread his hands. ¡®If I¡¯m right, we have no choice,¡¯ said he. ¡®She¡¯s going to get us up after six hours, not a minute later. So do you mind if Oliver and I spend um¡­ this night, so to say, in your cabin? Otherwise, one of us will have to sleep in these chairs. I¡¯d agree, but honestly, I¡¯m just so tired.¡¯ ¡®Hmmm¡­ I don¡¯t mind, actually ¨C¡¯ Ashley began. ¡®Well, let¡¯s not waste any time,¡¯ Oliver interrupted her. ¡®Jim¡¯s right, Major Jamison¡¯s going to get us up in six hours, as she said, minute by minute, and the longer we talk about it, the less time we have to sleep.¡¯ When James made his proposal, he was sure that Ashley¡¯s cabin was a four-berth, like the one he, Steve, Quentin, and Oliver shared. But he regretted his words immediately when he opened the door. The cabin turned out to be a two-berth. It was narrow enough that it would be difficult for a person of considerable constitution to squeeze between the two bunks above each other and the bulkhead. ¡®Well, you two can do what you want; I¡¯m going to bed¡­¡¯ With these words, Oliver began to climb onto the top bunk. James had no time to object. The young Specialist 2nd Class had already taken the bunk that James, assessing the current situation, had mentally reserved for himself and, judging by the sounds, was making himself more comfortable. Ashley looked at the only free lower bunk, then at James with a slightly raised eyebrow. ¡®I haven¡¯t got a sword,¡¯ he said. ¡®Sword?¡¯ ¡®Tristan and Isolde. He put his sword between them, and when King Mark ¨C¡¯ ¡®A-ah¡­¡¯ She snorted. ¡®Don¡¯t worry; no king is waiting for me. Which side of the bunk do you prefer?¡¯ ¡®What d¡¯you mean: which side?¡¯ ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ she nodded. ¡®I¡¯m not claustrophobic, so I can give you the outside¡­¡¯ ¡­ It was a bit cramped in that narrow bunk for two. James tried to move close to the edge. ¡®James, I¡¯ll kick you out,¡¯ Ashley whispered. ¡®Whereto?¡¯ he asked in a whisper, too. ¡®Down to the floor,¡¯ she whispered. ¡®It¡¯s called a deck.¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter.¡¯ ¡®Not the best place,¡¯ he murmured. ¡®Well, don¡¯t twirl around,¡¯ was the reply. ¡®I¡¯m not twirling,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®You¡¯re twirling¡­ wriggling like¡­ a python.¡¯ He laughed almost out loud. ¡®What¡¯s so funny?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Just a story popped up,¡¯ said he. ¡®Which story?¡¯ ¡®Well, one girl had a python¡­ um¡­ as a pet¡­¡¯ Ashley hummed, ¡®A python?¡¯ ¡®Huh, many people have dogs or cats, yeah?¡¯ said James, ¡®and she had a python. Slept together¡­ not in this sense, of course, just she slept on her bed, and the python curled up next to her. Well¡­ everything was going fine, but then the python suddenly stopped eating. The girl got worried and went with the python to¡­ um¡­ a snake specialist ¨C¡¯ ¡®Herpetologist?¡¯ ¡®Maybe. In short, that guy looked at the python and said that this python is going to swallow someone¡­ really big¡­¡¯ ¡®Her?¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh.¡¯ ¡®Horribly!¡¯ said she and James could feel her moving closer and closer to his body, probably involuntarily, as he told the story. It was even pleasant. ¡®¡­So to say, she nursed a snake in her bosom¡­¡¯ He also moved a little towards her. She moved a little away from him. ¡®And what has the girl done?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Well¡­ she mourned, mourned, took the python to a zoo or somewhere.¡¯ Ashley giggled and moved closer to James again. ¡®What a python?¡¯ Oliver¡¯s voice sounded upstairs. The voice was sleepy and sad. ¡®Where¡¯s a python?¡¯ ¡®Nowhere¡¯s a python. Sleep!¡¯ said James. ¡®Poor boy, we woke him,¡¯ whispered Ashley. ¡®Easy to say,¡¯ Oliver muttered, barely audible. ¡®You two mumble and mumble ¨C¡¯ But there was no continuation. Oliver seemed to have fallen asleep again. Ashley laughed barely audibly, and James, too. Suddenly, he felt like hugging her and even started to raise his hand, but with a force of will, he stopped himself. There was no more talking between them. Ashley was still asleep when James awoke. She was still lying in the same pose, facing the bulkhead. He got up from the bunk and tried to slip out of the cabin as quietly as possible. In the command section he headed, everything seemed the same as it was six hours ago. The instruments sang quietly. The overview screen of the weapons control station flashed numbers, indicating the distance to the nearest object, which could only be the supply ship, so for a second, James thought those numbers were completely out of proportion. Only then did he realise what the data meant and even laughed involuntarily. A few minutes later, Ashley entered the control section. She smiled at James but had no time to say anything. Oliver appeared on the entrance airlock threshold almost immediately after her. He had a very glum look on his face. ¡®What were you two chatting about all night?¡¯ he muttered grumpily. ¡®What python?¡¯ ¡®We hadn¡¯t been chatting about anything,¡¯ Ashley said. ¡®You had chatted,¡¯ Oliver insisted grumpily, ¡®and didn¡¯t let me sleep the whole time. A python and a python¡­¡¯ ¡®It was just a dream,¡¯ said James. ¡®It couldn¡¯t be a dream!¡¯ exclaimed Oliver. ¡®I hate snakes!¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s why you dreamt of it,¡¯ Ashley smiled. Oliver muttered angrily, suddenly interrupted by the buzzer of an external call. Ashley activated the communications system. ¡®Jamison to Leverton¡­¡¯ ¡®Uh¡­ Leverton¡­¡¯ Ashley did not react immediately. ¡®Lieutenant ¨C¡¯ Major Jamison¡¯s voice was suddenly drowned out by a strange sound, very loud and unpleasant. James noticed Ashley¡¯s face twitch slightly. He wondered what could have caused such interference, given that the communication was between two docked spacecraft, when an unfamiliar, authoritative voice came from the loudspeaker, apparently belonging to the commander of the supply craft. ¡®Report!¡¯ They heard no reply, only a new question from the commander after a short pause, ¡®¡­What the hell?¡¯ There was a pause again. James caught Ashley¡¯s puzzled expression. Suddenly, Major Jamison was talking again but in a way that was quite unusual to her. ¡®Move the shuttle away!¡¯ Her voice turned into a shout. ¡®Move the shuttle to a safe distance. Now, Lieutenant! That¡¯s an order!¡¯ Ashley stood stunned, not moving. ¡®Say, computer, emergency undocking,¡¯ whispered James. ¡®C¡¯mon!¡¯ he added more loudly because she was still silent. ¡®Computer, emergency undocking,¡¯ Ashley echoed. ¡®That procedure is not recommended,¡¯ came the reply. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ James could not resist. ¡®Repeat!¡¯ Ashley seemed to understand immediately and repeated the command. ¡®Emergency undocking. Everybody out of the docking bay,¡¯ said the same monotonous female voice that could drive anyone mad now. James gritted his teeth. Time was slow. Just over a minute passed, which seemed like an hour to James. ¡®Undocking complete,¡¯ the artificial intelligence reported. James breathed a sigh of relief. ¡®Activate manoeuvring thrusters,¡¯ he whispered, lightly nudging Ashley with his elbow. The girl looked at him, confused. ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know how to do it¡­¡¯ she mumbled. ¡®Gosh!¡¯ Suddenly, something seemed to click in his head. He rushed to the weapons control station and activated the port-side launcher. ¡®What¡¯re you doing?¡¯ cried Ashley. ¡®Following the order!¡¯ cried he, desperately trying to remember the procedure. Panic gripped him for a moment. He was afraid he had forgotten the activation codes for the launch system. ¡®A missile engine started with the shuttle¡¯s engines off might give us a slight boost. That¡¯s all we need for now!¡¯ While speaking, he managed to pull himself together. Concentrating, he entered the activation code as he remembered it and the command to start the rocket engine, locking the rocket in the launcher. Only now, he thought, how risky that was. The launcher could fall apart. But they need just a few seconds¡­ ¡­He mentally counted down a few seconds and turned the missile engine off¡­ ¡­nothing happened. James did not even feel the shuttle moving or had no time to feel it moving when suddenly a bright flash flashed on the top camera screen facing the supply ship. ¡®Computer, main screen!¡¯ James yelled automatically. There was no reaction. Ashley looked at him, nodded understanding, and repeated the same command. The main viewscreen in front of the flight control station showed the supply craft slowly moving away from them. But the flash did not disappear. And then... a bright glow seemed to erupt from the hull of the supply craft. It engulfed the entire hull for a couple of seconds and... disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, but the supply craft was no longer in sight. Only vague shadows slipped across the viewscreen. James shook his head, trying to push the vision away. ¡®No! No ¨C that¡¯s impossible!¡¯ flashed through his mind. ¡®This isn¡¯t possible! It can¡¯t have happened!¡¯ ¡­ ¡­ It happened. The shadows James had seen on the viewscreen were the wreckage of the supply craft, which no longer existed. Seconds later, even the wreckage was no longer visible on the viewscreen, only icy cosmic darkness ¡­ Chapter 13 James was not aware of what had happened in the first moment. Awareness came later. And when it came, when he emerged from the stupor that had gripped him and began to perceive everything around him, he felt as if a support had been removed from under his feet and he was flying into some abyss. None of his companions uttered a word, but it was easy to guess that they too were experiencing something of the same or similar sensation. Oliver, with a pale as a sheet face, swallowed convulsively; Ashley covered her face with her hands. And then, suddenly, the shuttlecraft appeared before his mental sight, moving in its orbit around the planetoid, the same orbit in which what was left of the supply craft remained. ¡®We must change the orbit,¡¯ said he; the words were hard for him to speak. His throat was dry. ¡®We risk colliding with the wreckage.¡¯ Ashley looked at him with a look he immediately mentally labelled as unseeing. The pause might have been a dozen heartbeats, but it seemed to James that it was endless. ¡®What¡¯re you saying?¡¯ she whispered finally. ¡®I¡¯m saying we need to get the shuttle up higher, about five kilometres,¡¯ James said, barely audible and even coughed. ¡®And?¡¯ Only now did he realise he had no idea what to do next. It was as if a veil of darkness had fallen before his eyes. It was almost as dark as the one he had seen on the viewscreen. But on the viewscreen were stars peering through the darkness, and in this darkness, there was nothing but darkness. A feeling of panic grabbed James again. He felt exactly the same as when he saw the transport craft on his helmet¡¯s virtual screen directly ahead of his fighter. Ashley¡¯s next words came to him as if from far away. ¡®We¡¯re doomed,¡¯ said she even not in a whisper. James read what she said by moving her lips. Dutton¡¯s words echoed in his mind, ¡®Hey, boys, try to come back alive.¡¯ As if the Flight commander had second sight. This mission, which seemed to be a simple training flight in the beginning, turned out to be a one-way ticket¡­ No! He shook his head, trying to push these thoughts out of his mind. He was a weapons systems operator here, but he was actually a fighter pilot. Could a fighter pilot ever find himself in a situation like this? No doubt, even in a worse situation, he said to himself. He was trained for it. Maybe he was not trained enough, but one day he had managed to climb out of the hole he had fallen into. Now, he had to do the same. He had to make a decision. He just had to concentrate and find it¡­ The darkness before his eyes gradually cleared. He looked around. Oliver was sitting near the engineering station. His face was still pale and frozen as if the boy had fallen into a stupor. Ashley was standing next to him; her face was also pale, and she seemed trembling slightly. His head was still in turmoil, his thoughts running so fast that he could not concentrate. He shook his head again. He had to pull himself together. What had we lost, and what had we still got? We have got the shuttle, and it seems to be undamaged¡­ ¡®Rubbish!¡¯ said he, surprised at the sudden harshness of his voice. ¡®Stupidest thing I ever heard.¡¯ ¡®We don¡¯t have the long-range comms antenna,¡¯ Ashley whispered. ¡®We can¡¯t send out a distress call,¡¯ she continued a little louder. ¡®What?¡¯ he shouted. ¡®For heaven¡¯s sake, why must we send a distress call?¡¯ ¡®Why?¡¯ said Ashley in a barely audible voice. ¡®You¡¯re asking why? We need help!¡¯ The last word she uttered a little more clearly. ¡®I don¡¯t think so,¡¯ James replied sharply. ¡®We¡¯re alive; it¡¯s the first,¡¯ he continued more calmly. ¡®We¡¯re in a perfectly serviceable spacecraft; it¡¯s the second, and finally the third ¨C¡¯ ¡®We cannot ¨C¡¯ Ashley began in a whisper but did not finish. ¡®We can,¡¯ said he firmly. ¡®We¡¯re trained to control this craft¡­ this is the third.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not trained,¡¯ said Ashley in a barely audible voice. ¡®I am trained,¡¯ James said back, even a little angrily. ¡®What d¡¯you suggest?¡¯ she asked again, whispering. Or had she lost her voice completely, James thought, looking around the control room. Oliver, still pale as a sheet, sat silently near the engineering station. Looking back at Ashley, he read the fear in her eyes. ¡®Firstly,¡¯ he began again, ¡®we must remove the shuttle to a higher orbit. Otherwise, in a couple of hours, we may encounter the wreckage of the supply craft. After that, we¡¯ll deal with the next stage of ¨C¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know how to move the shuttle to another orbit,¡¯ Ashley said in a broken voice. ¡®The artificial intelligence will do it,¡¯ said he. ¡®Say: computer, calculate the orbit parameters five kilometres above the current one.¡¯ ¡®Computer, calculate the orbit parameters five kilometres above the current one,¡¯ she echoed as if automatically. ¡®Complying,¡¯ a well-known monotonous voice came to them. James thought about how much time it could spend and what they would need to do next; the computer voice did not give him time to think his thoughts to the end. ¡®Orbit parameters are ready,¡¯ the artificial intelligence reported as usual monotonously and impartially. ¡®Say, move the shuttle into the calculated orbit,¡¯ said he, looking at Ashley. She did not seem to understand immediately, but after a pause, she repeated his words. ¡®That procedure is not recommended,¡¯ came the response. ¡®Fuck!¡¯ James blurted out. ¡®Computer, report the reason.¡¯ ¡®Your voice was not authorised,¡¯ was heard in reply. ¡®What the hell!¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Ah, sorry, I forgot, you¡¯re the commanding officer of this craft.¡¯ He turned to Ashley. ¡®Say to it¡­¡¯ Now, she understood almost immediately and repeated his request to the computer. ¡®That procedure is not recommended,¡¯ was the response. ¡®Repeat the order,¡¯ said James. Ashley repeated. ¡®That procedure is not recommended,¡¯ the artificial intelligence replied in its usual manner. ¡®This thing would make me mad,¡¯ James muttered, punching his fit on the flight control console. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind. He knows how to control a spacecraft. He said it to Ashley a couple of minutes ago himself. This shuttle was not the same as the fighter he was used to, but the principle remained the same¡­ ¡®Oliver!¡¯ he called. There was no reaction from the boy at first. He only turned and looked at James after a few seconds. ¡®¡­I need your brains,¡¯ said James. ¡®And your hands I need, too¡­ we need,¡¯ he corrected himself. Oliver shook his head but said nothing. ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m¡­¡¯ the boy swallowed convulsively, ¡®I can¡¯t stop thinking about it¡­¡¯ his voice sounded hoarse. ¡®All of them¡­ Major Jamison, Dr Bowman, Quentin, Steve and those three from the supply craft¡­ all of them¡­ dead¡­¡¯ James took a deep breath and nodded after a pause. ¡®Yes,¡¯ he said, ¡®they¡¯re dead. But we¡¯re still alive. I understand you very well, but we must ¨C¡¯ ¡®There¡¯s nothing we can do!¡¯ cried Ashley, suddenly sobbing. ¡®Don¡¯t you understand?¡¯ her voice trailed off. ¡®It¡¯s over!¡¯ ¡®Yes,¡¯ said James angrily. ¡®Games over, as Flight Lieutenant Jennings might say. That¡¯s right, I have no objection ¨C¡¯ Ashley turned away and shook her head. Oliver said nothing. James grumbled annoyingly. ¡®¡­First of all, he continued, ¡®we have to move the shuttle onto another orbit, and I have to do it manually. I can¡¯t control the engines from the flight control panel. Oliver, you¡¯re at the engineering station; you can do it. You know this thing like the back of your hand, right? Oliver shook his head negatively. ¡®Not this one,¡¯ said he. ¡®Well, you know something about it¡­ You dig the engine system of this craft better than me, anyway, because I don¡¯t dig it at all.¡¯ The boy shrugged. ¡®Well¡­ maybe,¡¯ he said, seeming not very confident. ¡®¡­Not maybe, but definitely,¡¯ said James. ¡®Think not dead, but alive, including yourself. I need your eyes, your brains, and your hands. Check the engine system.¡¯ Oliver nodded again and turned towards the workstation. He moved slowly, like a sleepwalker, but he moved nonetheless. And his gaze, as far as James could see, became more meaningful. There was a long pause during which James studied the flight control panel, trying to understand the control principles. He was sure he could operate his fighter¡¯s control system with his eyes closed. Still, here he was lost among a series of unknown icons and seemingly unfamiliar words on the touchscreen panel. ¡®All the reactor and engine systems are normal,¡¯ Oliver reported with a sudden burst of cheerfulness. ¡®Wonderful!¡¯ James nodded. ¡®I see the artificial gravity and life support systems are working, What¡¯s about the long-range sensors and ¨C¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t panic,¡¯ Oliver replied. ¡®Look at the flight control station, there are two screens on the top, left and right, showing readings ¨C¡¯ ¡®Oh yeah, right¡­¡¯ James mentally chided himself for not having figured out what he was seeing on those screens. ¡®Okay,¡¯ he continued, ¡®if I enter the orbit parameters calculated by the computer, what do I do next?¡¯ ¡®You know, what,¡¯ Oliver said. ¡®The procedure is the same as in your fighter. The problem is that I won¡¯t be able to control all the parameters of the reactor and propulsion system from this workstation,¡¯ he continued. ¡®I¡¯ll have to go down to the engineering bay. Someone else needs to be at the engineering workstation.¡¯ ¡®And we know who it could be,¡¯ James said back. ¡®Ashley!¡¯ he called, ¡®You should take the engineering workstation. You know everything here, I guess?¡¯ ¡®Huh? What? Uh¡­ yeah,¡¯ she replied after a pause as if waked up and then added more confidently, ¡®Yes, of course¡­¡¯ ¡®Great!¡¯ James clapped his hands, much as Major Jamison had done in a similar situation. ¡®Take your place. Oliver, jump to the Engineering. We must hurry¡­¡¯ He repeated these words to himself over and over again, recalling the procedures, sorting through the many programmes from which he had to choose the one that would produce the desired result. Finally, everything seemed to be ready. ¡®Ashley!¡¯ he called again. This time the girl reacted almost immediately and activated the intercom. ¡®Control to Engineering, prepare to start engines¡­¡¯ ¡®Engineering had been ready for a long time,¡¯ Oliver¡¯s cheerful voice came through. Apparently, being in a familiar environment, the boy had forgotten all his worries. He said something else, but James did not hear and focused on the control panel. He was ready to feel no movement. The main engine was supposed to fire at less than a quarter of its power. But he felt nothing. He felt nothing at all. The picture on the main viewscreen had not changed, the sensor readings on the flight control screens were the same, as was everything else he could read from the control panel. ¡®Jimmy?¡¯ Ashley¡¯s voice reached him. ¡®What the hell? he asked, unaware that she had called him by his shortened name. ¡®Nothing¡¯s happening,¡¯ she said. ¡®Impossible,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Ask the damn computer¡­ ¡®Computer, why isn¡¯t the program working?¡¯ she said absently. ¡®Your inquiry was not recognised,¡¯ said the artificial intelligence. James looked at Ashley and she looked at him. For a moment they were both silent. ¡®Explain,¡¯ Ashley said loudly after about a minute. ¡®Your inquiry was not recognised,¡¯ the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence replied in its monotonous voice. James exhaled and shook his head. He felt as if his feet were suddenly cold. ¡®What¡¯s a reason?¡¯ Ashley said in a husky voice. ¡®The orbit transfer in automatic mode is not recommended,¡¯ came the response. Silence fell again in the control centre. Suddenly, James heard a rustling. He turned around. Oliver appeared in the entrance hatch. He opened his mouth, the boy put his finger to his lips, walked towards him, around the command chair, then handed James his tablet and gestured for Ashley to come closer.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡®I think I know what¡¯s going on¡¯, James read on the tablet screen. ¡®AI blocks all our actions. I¡¯ve no idea why.¡¯ The last sentence was typed without separating the words and punctuation marks. James picked up the tablet and typed: ¡®Can this thing be turned off?¡¯ Oliver wrinkled his forehead as if thinking, then nodded. ¡®Thomas showed me,¡¯ he typed, again without spaces. ¡®But we can¡¯t ¨C¡¯ Ashley began; James put his finger to his lips. ¡®Do it¡¯, he typed. Oliver nodded silently, picked up his tablet, and headed for the workstation next to the engineering. James could not see what he was doing at the workstation. A minute later, the boy came back to him and showed him his tablet. ¡®Distractit¡¯, James read. It was not hard to guess, he gestured to Ashley. The girl did not respond immediately but then got up and came over to him. He showed her the tablet. ¡®Sorry, I¡¯m ¨C¡¯ she began. ¡®Give it a long, long task,¡¯ he interrupted her. ¡®Computer, I mean.¡¯ ¡®Why?¡¯ She looked at him puzzled. ¡®For fun!¡¯ he said, loudly and even somehow cheekily. She did not seem to understand right away, but then she nodded and said loudly and clearly, ¡®Computer, run a full diagnostic of all systems.¡¯ ¡®Running diagnostic,¡¯ the artificial intelligence reported dispassionately. Oliver gave a thumbs-up and went back to doing something at the workstation. James did not notice how much time was passing. Only when he looked at the clock on the flight control panel, which was counting down the on-board time, did he realise with horror that the shuttle was about to complete its orbit around the planetoid and that it might turn out¡­ It took him a while to realise that the wreckage of the supply ship had not stayed put and was also rotating in its orbit. ¡®I¡¯ve done it,¡¯ Oliver¡¯s whistling whisper reached him. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around. ¡®And?¡¯ The boy shrugged. ¡®I dunno,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®I hope the commands from your workstation go through without blocking, now.¡¯ ¡®Okay, no time to waste¡­¡¯ James felt like he was running somewhere. Of course, it was just his imagination. He was not running anywhere; he was sitting at the flight control station. He just felt that if he had to act, he had to act now. ¡®¡­Ashley¡­ uh¡­ Oliver,¡¯ he said in a loud whisper, ¡®back to your stations, we¡¯re starting again¡­¡¯ ¡®Diagnostics complete¡­¡¯ the artificial intelligence voice came to him. ¡®All the systems¡­¡¯ Without listening further, James finished the entering programme and was going to press ¡®Enter¡¯ but stopped at the very last moment. Suddenly, it hit him. They have no need for an orbital transfer. They need a simple increase in altitude, nothing more. A craft like this has no need to use the main engines, just the manoeuvring thrusters, which provide enough impulse to lift it five kilometres above its current orbit. Damned artificial intelligence had confused them. The question of why remained to be answered later. James pulled out his tablet, made sure it was connected to the shuttle¡¯s intranet, then typed: ¡®Olvr stop main engin actvt manoeurn start on my comnd¡¯. He neglected spelling and punctuation, thinking Oliver could understand it, and sent the message. Oliver received and understood. ¡®Gotcha!¡¯ his reply message appeared on the tablet screen. ¡®Wonderful! Luck is waiting for us,¡¯ James murmured and said aloud, ¡®Ashley, watch the altitude.¡¯ Out of his eye corner, he noticed the girl nodding in response. ¡®Well, let¡¯s go,¡¯ he murmured and finally activated the programme¡­ ¡­ ¡®Wow!¡¯ James was unable to contain his emotions. ¡®We¡¯ve done it!¡¯ he shouted. ¡®We¡¯ve done what?¡¯ Ashley asked, as if confused. ¡®We tricked it,¡¯ he whispered back. ¡®Sorry?¡¯ ¡®We tricked our super-duper intelligent artificial assistant.¡¯ According to the instruments on the flight control panel, the shuttle was in a new orbit, five and a half kilometres above the previous one. James realised he had miscalculated the timing of the manoeuvring thrusters. However, it did not matter much. Now, they had time to decide what to do next. ¡®What¡¯s next?¡¯ Ashley¡¯s voice came to him as if she had read his thoughts. He exhaled. ¡®That¡¯s a good question. I guess we¡¯d use the launch window as suggested in the flight plan. Major Jamison said it would open forty-eight hours after we got here. More than half that time has passed. We don¡¯t have much time to prepare. Or ¡¯ve you got another idea?¡¯ Ashley shifted her eyebrows. ¡®Sorry?¡¯ ¡®I mean, we have to continue according to the plan,¡¯ he said. ¡®What was our mission, remember?¡¯ She nodded. ¡®Yes, but¡­¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ ¡®Everything¡¯s¡­ changed,¡¯ she said in a confused, whispered voice. ¡®Nothing¡¯s changed!¡¯ he said. ¡®We¡¯ve got a mission to perform; we¡¯ve got to carry it out. All of our cargo is already on board, am I right? So, we must deliver all those stuff to the Endurance.¡¯ Ashley shook her head again. ¡®We cannot,¡¯ said she. James slapped his knees in frustration, making them hurt. ¡®Damn it!¡¯ he cried. ¡®Do you understand¡­? By the way, if the supply craft didn¡¯t blow itself up but was destroyed by the enemy, shouldn¡¯t we clear out of here before they destroy us? ¡®They¡¯ll catch up with us,¡¯ Ashley said, looking at James again with the same unseeing eyes she had after the supply craft exploded. And he saw tears in them. He wanted to go to her, wanted to hug her, to hold her. But he suppressed the impulse, not knowing how she would take it. ¡®Look,¡¯ he said instead, ¡®Imagine you¡¯re walking down a dark street and see a guy with a knife behind. If you keep walking as you walk, there is a chance he attacks you. But if you run, there¡¯s a chance he won¡¯t catch up with you, right?¡¯ ¡®Of course, Jim¡¯s right,¡¯ Oliver¡¯s voice came through. James did not notice how the boy appeared in the control section. ¡®Grandpa used to say that if you wanna get out of a hole, stop digging it deeper.¡¯ ¡®Great!¡¯ James chuckled. ¡®Through the mouth of a child, the truth speaks.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not a ¨C¡¯ Oliver began with a note of displeasure in his voice; James waved his hand. ¡®This isn¡¯t about you, just a phrase,¡¯ he said. ¡®Anyway, we must try. Come on, let¡¯s get to work. We can¡¯t rely on our artificial assistant, okay, so let''s collect all the data we can and calculate all the options. Ashley, you can pull up the return flight plan from the computer¡¯s memory. There must be such a plan, I¡¯m sure.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t get what that gives us?¡¯ Ashley¡¯s voice still sounded confused. ¡®Rough plan of action,¡¯ James replied. ¡®Necessary trajectory,¡¯ she said, ¡®can only be calculated by artificial intelligence.¡¯ ¡®Who said that?¡¯ ¡®I am. I know¡­¡¯ He heard stubborn notes in her voice. ¡®There¡¯s a difference between your fighter and a spacecraft like this. This is a very complex manoeuvre that¡­ I don¡¯t really understand it myself. There¡¯s the Hohmann trajectory¡­ I mean, transfer orbit, there¡¯s a ¨C¡¯ ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter.¡¯ ¡®It does!¡¯ she shouted. ¡®When used for travelling between celestial bodies, a Hohmann transfer orbit requires that the starting and destination points be at particular locations in their orbits relative to each other ¨C¡¯ ¡®What does the Hohmann orbit have to do with it? This shuttle is equipped with a Cooper engine ¨C¡¯ ¡®This is just an example,¡¯ she said with the same notes in her voice. ¡®Because all other manoeuvres in space are subject to general principles and using the Cooper engine changes nothing¡­ Well, it changes them a little, but not drastically. Anyway, we must know the destination point. You know, where¡¯s the Endurance is now? I don¡¯t. Usually, the on-board AI has calculated the positions of both spacecraft in space, using its database and so on. I don¡¯t have such sorta database in my head. And since we don¡¯t have the long-range comms system, we can¡¯t get data from the Endurance to calculate a destination point based on its current position and velocity.¡¯ What a stubborn James thought, realising that he thought about her as if with admiration and immediately tried to push away any extraneous thoughts. How a fighter pilot would act in a similar situation¡­ ¡®There is an astronomical programme that finds navigational stars,¡¯ he said. ¡®And there¡¯s the programme which uses those navigational stars to calculate a trajectory. Both programmes can operate independently of our fucking artificial brain. The computer¡¯s database stores Endurance¡¯s original position at the time of our start and other data. Since then, they have followed the same trajectory without changing anything. We will be able to calculate the destination point¡­ Okay, I think we can¡­¡¯ ¡®You don¡¯t understand.¡¯ Ashley shook her head with a sad breath. ¡®I¡¯ve done scenario modelling¡­¡¯ ¡®And what?¡¯ he asked, though he had already guessed her answer. ¡®The probability of reaching the rendezvous point with the Endurance does not exceed thirty per cent¡­¡¯ How hard these words were given to her. She almost whispered the last words with trembling lips. James again wanted to hug her, hold her, and calm her down, but he did not move. ¡®This is the worst-case scenario?¡¯ he said instead. ¡®No¡­¡¯ her voice wavered again. ¡®This is the most optimistic. In all the others ¨C¡¯ ¡®¡­we go off course and fall into a black hole,¡¯ he picked up, ¡®we are attacked by goblins ¨C¡¯ ¡®Jimmy!¡¯ ¡®We¡¯ve got another way out?¡¯ ¡®We¡¯ve got no way out!¡¯ ¡®Fucking hell!¡¯ cried he but having come to his senses, continued a little calmly, ¡®Sorry, I mean there¡¯s a way out of every box and a solution to every puzzle.¡¯ ¡®Did you come up with that yourself?¡¯ she asked annoyingly. ¡®No. Someone very wise said it,¡¯ he replied deliberately and more calmly, trying not to succumb to this provocation. ¡®Jimmy, I¡¯m not joking!¡¯ she cried. ¡®Me too,¡¯ he said, forcing himself to speak even more calmly. ¡®It¡¯s just a matter of finding a way out.¡¯ ¡®We cannot!¡¯ He took a deep breath. ¡®How many times today have you said that we cannot, and how many times have it turned out we can?¡¯ There was a pause. ¡®¡­So¡­¡¯ James clapped his hands. ¡®That means now you and I would begin the course calculations¡­ Okay, more you than me. When the launch window opens, you and Oliver will start the engines, and we will fly to the rendezvous point on a parabola, a hyperbola, or even a serpentine. I don¡¯t care what it¡¯s called. What matters is that we reach our destination!¡¯ ¡®But if ¨C¡¯ she began; he stopped her by raising his hand. ¡®Failure is not an option. This is the only way out. Otherwise, we¡¯re dead, but I don¡¯t want to die just yet. Oliver, do you?¡¯ The young technician, who had listened to the conversation in silence, shook his head negatively but said nothing. ¡®Hey, c¡¯mon!¡¯ James held his hand up and clenched his fist. ¡®We¡¯re from Endurance. Our motto is¡­¡¯ He had no idea where it had suddenly come into his mind. But it suddenly worked. After a short pause, Ashley and Oliver replied simultaneously, but in sour voices, ¡®By endurance we conquer!¡¯ ¡®Make it louder!¡¯ cried James. ¡®I can hardly hear you.¡¯ ¡®By endurance we conquer!¡¯ By this time, they both were noticeably more upbeat. ¡®Okay, that¡¯s better!¡¯ James marked his companions¡¯ eyes brightening a little. ¡®So, let¡¯s go and try not to screw it up¡­¡¯ ¡­He tried not to look at the numbers in the corner of the flight control panel, which counted down the seconds, minutes, and hours. Every time he wanted to look at that corner, he turned away. ¡®The programme for calculating the current position¡­ Oh yeah, I see¡­ start-up¡­¡¯ he murmured and looked around. No one seemed to hear his thoughts aloud. Ashley sat at the engineering workstation, her face set in concentration. She activated the intercom and said something. Oliver¡¯s voice came back. James let what the boy said pass his ears and refocused on his work. The programme was quite different from the one he had been used to; he had to rack his brain to figure out what to do next¡­ ¡®I¡¯m finished,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®I¡¯m done too,¡¯ he replied. ¡®Well, I think so¡­¡¯ ¡®Aren¡¯t you sure?¡¯ she said, suddenly grinning. ¡®I¡¯m sure,¡¯ he said, looking at her, ¡®Launching window?¡¯ She turned back to the workstation again. ¡®In two hours.¡¯ ¡®Engine and reactor systems are normal. I ran diagnostics,¡¯ reported Oliver, who appeared in the entrance hatch. ¡®By the way, dunno about you two, but I¡¯m starving¡­¡¯ He placed several bags of dry rations on the §ãommander¡¯s chair. ¡®Would you like some refreshment?¡¯ ¡®No, no, not here.¡¯ James waved his hands. ¡®Move it somewhere else. This is where the commanding officer should sit.¡¯ He turned to Ashley again. ¡®It¡¯s time for you to take your seat.¡¯ The girl who had just exuded confidence was once again at a loss. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ said she, shaking her head. ¡®You¡¯re the commanding officer,¡¯ said James. ¡®This is your chair.¡¯ ¡®It seems you¡¯ve been in charge so far,¡¯ she said quietly. ¡®I wasn¡¯t in charge, he objected. I was just¡­ well, the artificial brains of this flying box recognise only your voice, anyway,¡¯ he continued after a pause. ¡®But I¡¯m ¨C¡¯ Ashley began again; he stopped her with a gesture. ¡®You don¡¯t have to do anything, just lead. I and Oliver will do the main work, right?¡¯ He looked at the young technician. ¡®By the way, who else but you can keep a logbook?¡¯ ¡®Logbook?¡¯ Ashley raised her eyebrows and looked at him in confusion. ¡®Yes indeed. This is a spacecraft, not an exercise machine for kids.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know how to ¨C¡¯ ¡®I didn¡¯t know how to fill out all the flight documentation and other stuff, too, but I had to learn. And you will. I¡¯ll show you for the first time. Say the computer to display the log on my workstation typescreen.¡¯ She did as he asked. The artificial intelligence had no objections this time. The log appeared on the small screen on the side of the flight control station. The last entry had been made the previous afternoon. Major Jamison had written about loading equipment. He typed in the date and paused, thinking that now he should probably describe what had happened, but he had no idea how to describe it. ¡®Don¡¯t know what to write?¡¯ Ashley said wryly. ¡®I know,¡¯ he grumbled. His fingers ran over the touchpad, typing text that instantly appeared, letter by letter, on the screen, ESV One Crew: 2Lt. A. Leverton, acting mission commander Ast1. J. Jenkins, acting mission pilot Spc2. O. Stubbs, acting mission flight engineer ¡®Too short-handed crew for a mission like this,¡¯ Ashley muttered. ¡®Not at all,¡¯ James smiled wryly. ¡®Remember Armstrong, Auldrin¡­ and who was the third¡­ ah, Collins. And by the way, their mission was much, much more difficult, if only because they were the first. We¡¯re not even second. Do you follow my mind?¡¯ She did not answer, just snorted. He did not understand why he suddenly felt funny. Then his gaze fell on the top line. ¡®¡­Hey!¡¯ he exclaimed. ¡®I don¡¯t like this name. ESV One? Hmm, rubbish!¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ that¡¯s what it¡¯s called,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®Experimental Space Vessel One.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t mean the prefix,¡¯ said he. ¡®I¡¯m about the name.¡¯ Ashley shrugged. ¡®This is¡­¡¯ she began, ¡®I mean, it¡¯s the first experimental ¨C¡¯ ¡®I see,¡¯ James nodded. ¡®But that¡¯s not a good name for a spacecraft, is it?¡¯ Ashley shrugged again. ¡®Now we are the crew of this craft¡­¡¯ James snapped his fingers and continued, ¡®We can give it a name. I suggest¡­ I suggest we name it¡­ after Dr Bowman¡­ Any objections?¡¯ Ashley said nothing, Oliver, too. ¡®¡­no objections. Great!¡¯ James reached for the keyboard again and corrected the top line: ESV Bowman crew¡­ ¡­Two hours later, all three were back together in the shuttle¡¯s command centre. Pre-start preparations had been completed. James looked at the main viewscreen, where the shadow of the planetoid around which the shuttle was making its final turn was slowly creeping. ¡®The final turnaround if everything works out¡¯, he thought, and said aloud, ¡®I think we forgot something.¡¯ ¡®Forgot what?¡¯ Ashley asked. ¡®We forgot to say goodbye.¡¯ There was no need to explain whom to say goodbye to. Everyone understood without a word. ¡®I don¡¯t know how,¡¯ said the girl. ¡®I never did it.¡¯ ¡®Who did?¡¯ Oliver put in. ¡®I didn¡¯t, too.¡¯ ¡®As well as I,¡¯ said James and took a deep breath. ¡®Should be a procedure, but¡­ Well, I¡¯ll do it. As best I can. If He is somewhere, He¡­ and if he isn¡¯t¡­ er¡­ doesn¡¯t matter¡­¡¯ He took another deep breath to gather his spirits and stood up from his seat. Ashley and Oliver stood up almost simultaneously, as if on cue. ¡®¡­We gather here to remember our friends and colleagues,¡¯ he began slowly, feeling the words hard to say, ¡®who have now joined our Father in Heaven: Rebecca Jamison, Major; Dr David Bowman, Chef Flight Engineer; Quentin Fournier, Lieutenant; Stephen Woolverton, Astronaut¡­ First Class¡­¡¯ Steve¡¯s face appeared before his eyes, and the way Steve looked at him seemed reproachful to James. He flinched and did not immediately realise he was still saying, ¡®¡­Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours for ever and ever. Amen.¡¯ ¡®Amen,¡¯ echoed Ashley and Oliver. Silence reigned in the control centre for a while, broken only by the instruments ¡®singing¡¯. James saw Steve¡¯s face before his eyes again, moving slowly into the shadow of the planetoid, only then realising that he was looking directly at the main viewscreen. He exhaled. ¡®Okay, folks, take a look at this space body. Let¡¯s hope we don¡¯t see it again. Grab your workstations, let¡¯s get started¡­¡¯ His command was promptly obeyed. He made himself comfortable in the chair before the flight control station and put his hands on the touchpad. ¡®Now comes the main and hard part,¡¯ he said. ¡®I have to orient the shuttle. I can do it with the manoeuvring thrusters, but I won¡¯t be able to fire the main engine at the right moment. We can¡¯t rely on artificial brains, and I don¡¯t wanna hear that it¡¯s unable to comply and other balderdash. Ashley, you¡¯ll have to do it from the engineering station. We need to get into position for acceleration mode. There¡¯s going to be quite a bit of overload. Am I making clear?¡¯ ¡®Pretty much,¡¯ Ashley said. Oliver nodded silently. ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ James took a few deep breaths. ¡®Let¡¯s do it¡­¡¯ He had thought this was their last chance, and if they failed, the only way left was to depressurise the shuttle and turn into a frozen corpse. The Flying School instructor¡¯s words came to mind. The instructor had once told them what would happen if a spacesuit was depressurised in space. Shaking his head, he tried to push those thoughts away. He had to concentrate on what he was doing right now; that was the most important thing; everything else had no meaning. He made sure he was securely strapped into his seat. Then he turned around, relieved that Ashley and Oliver had also prepared themselves for acceleration mode. He took a couple of deep breaths again to calm himself down and to concentrate and said, licking his parched lips, ¡®All hands stand by,¡¯ starting the manoeuvring thrusters. The navigation grid on the vewscreen before him slowly shifted in the direction he wanted. He exhaled in relief and took air into his lungs again. ¡®¡­Ashley, on my command¡­¡¯ At the last moment, his voice trailed off and came out hoarse. The navigation grid crept across the screen too slowly, and it took him a moment to notice that the red colour had changed to green. ¡®¡­Let¡¯s go!¡¯ Chapter 14 James walked down a corridor somewhere inside the Endurance. They all three walked down the corridor. He could feel Ashley, walking beside him, touching his shoulder with hers from time to time and smiling. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Oliver walking just behind her, his face beaming. The spacecraft crew members were standing along the walls of the corridor. No, not standing. They seemed to separate from the walls and appear before his eyes one after another. They were saying something, but he could not hear what, just a steady hum of voices. Their faces were familiar and unfamiliar. Dabir flashed among them, and then Squadron Leader Dutton emerged from somewhere. Kevin appeared and disappeared, at once behind Sergeant Hancock, who waved his hand affably, from under which Steve suddenly showed up¡­ Steve¡­? James opened his eyes and lay motionless on his bunk for a while, not immediately realising that he had been sleeping, and that it was just a dream, and not even immediately hearing an unpleasant buzzing sound. ¡®What the hell?¡¯ he muttered, then fumbled for the switch panel and pressed the first button he could find. ¡®Leverton,¡¯ came the now-familiar voice. ¡®What happened?¡¯ he grumbled. ¡®You asked me to wake you an hour before your shift started,¡¯ Ashley¡¯s voice sounded slightly laughing. Or maybe it was just his imagination, or some kind of distortion appeared in the intercom. He finally managed to find the right button on the panel and turned on the light in the cabin. He was still sharing Ashley¡¯s former quarters with Oliver, and she had moved into Dr Bowman¡¯s former quarters, where they had cleared a little of the containers of some unknown equipment. The girl flatly refused to take over Major Jamison¡¯s cabin. With a familiar movement, pulled on his flight suit, he got up and opened the door. Coming out into the corridor, he stretched, chasing the remaining sleep away, and walked into the control section feeling much more wide awake. Ashley was sitting at her usual place near the engineering workstation. She categorically refused to use the commander¡¯s chair, too. Oliver spun around in a chair near the battle station. ¡®Hi! How¡¯s it going?¡¯ With those words, James entered the control section. Oliver saluted ironically and reported ahead of Ashley, ¡®Position according to plan, all the systems are functioning properly¡­ By the way, guess the riddle,¡¯ he added suddenly. ¡®Which one?¡¯ asked James automatically only then, thinking it was better not to ask. ¡®Why is a raven like a writing-desk?¡¯ ¡®Everybody knows,¡¯ said Ashley slightly annoyingly. ¡®And?¡¯ the boy persisted, twisting round in his chair. ¡®C¡¯mon, Oliver, because Poe wrote on both,¡¯ said James and, turning to Ashley, he continued, lowering his voice a little, ¡®Sounds like you¡¯ve had enough of him.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s putting it mildly,¡¯ the girl reacted almost in a whisper, with an indescribable expression on her face. ¡®¡­Well, I¡¯ll give him a fun life,¡¯ said James quietly, taking his seat at the flight control station. ¡®Fasten your seatbelts.¡¯ Ashley did not realise immediately, only after James winked at her and reached for the seat belts. ¡®What¡¯re you two whispering about?¡¯ came Oliver¡¯s voice. ¡®Just wanted to show you something,¡¯ James said indifferently, snapping the belts. ¡®What?¡¯ ¡®A Space Academy where boys become men¡­¡¯ James switched the artificial gravity system off, ¡®¡­if they survive.¡¯ With a loud scream, Oliver flew up, flailing his arms and legs, which suddenly became weightless. ¡®Ah-ah-ah!¡¯ he shrieked, dangling between the battle station and the commander¡¯s chair to Ashley¡¯s laughter. But he soon got used to his new position, stopped flailing his arms, tumbled over his head, and hovered almost in the middle of the control section. ¡®Big deal!¡¯ he said ironically. ¡®I¡¯m at home in zero gravity¡­ Ouch! Fuck!¡¯ The last exclamation might have meant he hit himself on something, but he did not lose his cheerful mood, which was easy to see from his grinning face. ¡®¡­You call this a survival test? Huh, the test I passed in the Yukon to qualify was a real test!¡¯ The boy¡¯s voice sounded smug. ¡®¡­Guess what, minus 40 degrees, not a soul around for thousands and thousands of miles ¨C¡¯ ¡®Tell me another one,¡¯ Ashley interrupted him laughing. ¡®You couldn¡¯t have had such a test.¡¯ ¡®Honestly!¡¯ Oliver exclaimed. ¡®I don¡¯t believe you one bit!¡¯ the girl giggled. ¡®I¡¯m telling you!¡¯ Oliver insisted indignantly. ¡®Liar, liar, liar, pants on fire,¡¯ Ashley recited cheerfully. ¡®If I¡¯m lying, I¡¯m flying,¡¯ the boy replied in the same tone. ¡®I don¡¯t wanna upset you, Oliver¡­¡¯ James tried to be as serious as possible, though he could barely keep from laughing, ¡®but you really are flying now, in every sense of the word.¡¯ ¡®Fuck!¡¯ came from the ceiling. ¡®Watch your mouth, kid,¡¯ said James. ¡®I¡¯m not a ¨C¡¯ the boy began as usual but was cut off by James. ¡®Instead of just hanging around,¡¯ said he, ¡®check the sensor readings on the battle station.¡¯ ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ Oliver replied deliberately, with a comical salute, and moved to the right side of the command section. ¡®There¡¯s nothing there,¡¯ his voice sounded again. ¡®Oops!¡¯ James thought that despite the boy¡¯s boasts, he was not very good at moving in weightlessness, but Oliver¡¯s next shriek made him turn as far as the seatbelts allowed him. ¡®¡­Look at that!¡¯ cried the boy. ¡®At what?¡¯ asked James. Oliver jabbed his finger at the screen that displayed the long-range sensor readings. ¡®I haven¡¯t got a clue what it is,¡¯ he said at the time, less emotionally, ¡®but there¡¯s something there.¡¯ James unbuckled his belt and tried to stand up, instead rising above the chair. He had completely forgotten that the artificial gravity system had been turned off. He had to remember his zero gravity skills again. ¡®Look!¡¯ Oliver still kept pointing his finger at the screen. ¡®What does it looks like?¡¯ James did not immediately recognise what he was seeing. ¡®I can tell you what it doesn¡¯t look like,¡¯ he said. ¡®It¡¯s not an enemy vehicle. It¡¯s more like¡­ Ashley,¡¯ he called out. ¡®Stop messing around!¡¯ the girl uttered angrily. ¡®Switch on the artificial gravity.¡¯ ¡®Come on,¡¯ James waved his hand. ¡®You¡¯re an astronaut.¡¯ ¡®Only a formal,¡¯ came the reply. James came back to the flight control station and re-activated the artificial gravity system, feeling his own weight and standing up on his feet. The sensor data on the station screen did not change. Obviously, the shuttle¡¯s sensors detected nothing yet. ¡®Are you sure,¡¯ he asked. No answer followed within the next few seconds. ¡®Who?¡¯ Oliver spoke up. ¡®You.¡¯ ¡®I can see it with my own eyes,¡¯ said the boy. ¡®And you see it too.¡¯ Ashley left her chair and walked to the battle station where James had returned. ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯ ¡®There it is!¡¯ Oliver jabbed his finger at the corner of the screen. ¡®Do you know what that is?¡¯ The girl shook her head negatively. ¡®I¡¯ve never seen something like that,¡¯ she muttered. ¡®I have,¡¯ said James. At last, the vague memory in his mind took shape. He had seen something similar on the sensors once during one of his training flights in the Neptune system. Squadron Commander Dutton had said that was how the sensors had mapped Psamathe ¨C one of Neptune¡¯s farthest moons. ¡®Oddly, the shuttle¡¯s sensors show nothing,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Distance,¡¯ said Oliver, jabbing his finger at the screen again. ¡®Look at the distance. You said the weapons system sensors are more long-range.¡¯ ¡®What is it?¡¯ said Ashley ¡®A planet,¡¯ said James, ¡®hmmm¡­ or another celestial body. And¡­ if I¡¯m not mistaken¡­ we¡¯re going onto orbit around that¡­ object.¡¯ ¡®Known? I mean the object,¡¯ Ashley asked. Before James could answer, Oliver chimed in. ¡®Exactly,¡¯ said he. ¡®There are no unknown objects in this area.¡¯ Ashley hummed. ¡®Well¡­ and what is this object?¡¯ she asked, stretching her words a little. Oliver shrugged. ¡®No idea.¡¯ ¡®I thought you had a ton of ideas about everything,¡¯ James said snidely. The boy frowned. ¡®I¡¯m a technician,¡¯ said he grumpily, ¡®not an astronomer.¡¯ ¡®Okay¡­¡¯ James looked at Ashley. ¡®It¡¯s a good time to turn to our cleverest artificial assistant. Oliver, try sending the data to its brain. Is that possible?¡¯ The boy immersed himself in studying the battle station¡¯s control panel. At first, only his grunts and mumbles could be heard, then a cry of joy. ¡®The easiest way is via an intranet,¡¯ said he grinning. ¡®All I need is an access code. Everything here is classified.¡¯ James entered the code. Oliver¡¯s manipulations at the control panel remained mysterious to him. What worried him most was that, according to the sensor readings and now the navigation grid, the shuttle was being pulled inexorably towards this unknown celestial body about which he knew nothing but which must have had a considerable mass for its gravity to be able to capture the shuttle at such a distance. ¡®I¡¯ve done it.¡¯ James heard Oliver¡¯s voice. This time, Ashley understood immediately. ¡®Computer, determine the object parameters according to the information received,¡¯ said she clearly. James had expected to hear, ¡®Unable to comply¡¯, but the artificial intelligence had no objection. ¡®Complying,¡¯ came the familiar voice. There was a moment of silence in the control section. Then the artificial intelligence began again, ¡®The object parameters: radius approximately¡­ mass estimated¡­¡¯ James had no time to grasp the figures. Nor, it seemed, had Ashley. ¡®On the viewscreen,¡¯ she asked. The main screen ahead of the flight control station went dark and a moment later showed two columns of data produced by the artificial intelligence. James looked at Ashley, and she looked at him. ¡®What does this tell us?¡¯ she said as the data filled the viewscreen. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ James replied. ¡®Maybe you set the task incorrectly. Ask it to compare the object¡¯s parameters with the parameters of known objects in this sector.¡¯ Ashley nodded understandingly and repeated the request. ¡®Complying,¡¯ the mechanical voice reported. Oliver seemed about to interject, as was his wont, but remained silent. For a few instants, there was a pause. ¡®How long will it take him to comply?¡¯ muttered the girl. Numbers appeared on the screen, changing downwards. James grinned. ¡®This is the answer to your question.¡¯ ¡®Too long,¡¯ Ashley said unhappily. The numbers on the screen showed 30 minutes and 25 seconds. ¡®Makes sense,¡¯ James chuckled. ¡®How many known objects are there in this sector?¡¯ ¡®No idea.¡¯ ¡®Me too, but I think there are more than two.¡¯ The numbers on the overview screen suddenly changed. Instead of 30 minutes, the computer promised to have finished its mental work in 10 minutes. James thought something had gone wrong with the shuttle¡¯s artificial brain and could not help laughing. ¡®What¡¯s so funny?¡¯ asked Ashley. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ he said. ¡®Just¡­ thinking¡­¡¯Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡®About what?¡¯ ¡®About what the hell it was that has brought us here indeed.¡¯ ¡®Do you think ¨C¡¯ she paused. ¡®Were we knocked off course by this¡­ um¡­ object?¡¯ ¡®Maybe, maybe,¡¯ he muttered. ¡®Or we miscalculated.¡¯ ¡®Impossible,¡¯ Ashley said firmly. ¡®I double-checked all my calculations.¡¯ ¡®Maybe you should have triple-checked?¡¯ Ashley pursed her lips, offended. James suddenly felt funny. Besides, he thought, Ashley looked really cute with that expression on her face. But all these completely irrelevant thoughts went away immediately. They were faced with a problem that required an immediate solution. ¡®Anyway, we¡¯re off course, significantly off course,¡¯ said he. ¡®And I¡¯d really like to know why.¡¯ He thought to himself that he might have made a mistake in entering the data, too, but he did not say so. Whichever of them was wrong, it meant nothing now and therefore changed nothing. And then, another thought came to him. The shuttle¡¯s artificial brain behaviour during manoeuvres in orbit around the planetoid after the transport ship had exploded had not been random. The artificial intelligence had refused to obey the commands of the operator Major Jamison had assigned to Ashley, all the while arguing that the procedure was not recommended. What could that possibly mean? Then, by tricking the artificial intelligence, they were able to make all the necessary calculations and still put the shuttle on a return trajectory. However, the question remained as to who was actually controlling the shuttle during the flight. Together with Ashley, they adjusted the course twice according to the calculations, but these commands were carried out by the same artificial intelligence. What, if¡­ ¡®Operation completed. The object parameters do not correspond to the parameters of known objects of the Solar System,¡¯ the artificial intelligence declared. There was another pause, broken only by the quiet ¡®singing¡¯ of the instruments. ¡®Wow!¡¯ Oliver exclaimed suddenly, his face beamed. ¡®Planet X! We¡¯ve found it!¡¯ He looked at Ashley, who, judging by her face, clearly did not share his excitement, then looked at James. ¡®Honestly,¡¯ James said, ¡®I¡¯d rather think about how to get back on course.¡¯ ¡®We need to get into orbit and start exploring,¡¯ Oliver insisted heatedly. ¡®And give it ¨C¡¯ ¡®Exploring what? James asked, catching himself talking a bit heatedly. ¡®As for me, what we need to do now is to think about how to get out of here, and when we figure that out ¨C¡¯ ¡®But this is¡­ a discovery of century!¡¯ Oliver waved his hands around with an excess of emotion. ¡®I mean the planet. Astronomers have been looking for it for so many years. Over a hundred years! We¡¯re supposed to be exploring everything here now. Well, not everything, of course, but the planet¡¯s main features. Does it have an atmosphere or not, and what does the atmosphere consist of and stuff like that¡­ I mean¡­ it¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s almost like Voyager¡¯s first flyby of the Jupiter system; imagine that! I¡¯m not talking about the scientific significance. All the astronomers thought it should be a super-Earth, twice or even a third the diameter of the Earth. But this planet is smaller than Pluto¡­ well, Mercury¡­ hmm¡­ I guess¡­¡¯ The boy paused, seeming to suspect he was being carried away again, ¡®¡­am I making any sense here?¡¯ he said then. ¡®No, but it doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ Ashley reacted. ¡®You said the shuttle¡¯s AI brought us here?¡¯ she looked at James. ¡®I didn¡¯t say that, just thought,¡¯ said he. ¡®Are you reading my mind?¡¯ ¡®Of course not,¡¯ she replied. ¡®I guess I was thinking about it, too.¡¯ ¡®So you don¡¯t want to explore this planet at all?¡¯ Oliver chimed in again. ¡®We¡¯re not explorers,¡¯ James cut in. ¡®What do you mean, not explorers?¡¯ The boy seemed surprised. ¡®Just the usual,¡¯ James reacted, slightly irritated. ¡®Our mission is to bring equipment and spare parts to Endurance to repair the damage, as you know. There¡¯s no mention of exploring planets unknown to science in our mission statement, so you¡¯ve got to make do with what you¡¯ve got.¡¯ ¡®Aren¡¯t you at least just a bit interested in what we¡¯ve stumbled upon?¡¯ There was genuine surprise in the boy¡¯s voice. ¡®I¡¯m telling you, this is the discovery of the century!¡¯ Oliver waved his hands emotionally again. ¡®We should drive stakes, give it a name, and write to the IAU ¨C¡¯ ¡®IAU what?¡¯ ¡®The International Astronomical Union,¡¯ said the boy, with meaningful intonation, ¡®the only recognised authority for assigning designations and names to celestial bodies.¡¯ ¡®Uh-huh, they¡¯re just waiting for us and our discovery,¡¯ James laughed. ¡®By the way, we can¡¯t even contact Endurance.¡¯ ¡®No matter,¡¯ the boy brushed it off and continued excitedly. ¡®Firstly, we have to give the planet a name. I suggest naming this planet¡­ Ashley,¡¯ he blurted out. ¡®What?¡¯ said the girl, obviously not understanding what had happened. James did not immediately understand either and only then realised what the boy meant. ¡®Are you nuts?¡¯ he clapped Oliver on the shoulder. ¡®It¡¯s an icy world, with a surface temperature just above zero Kelvin. At that temperature, even nitrogen freezes and falls as snow, and you¡¯re proposing to name this icy hell after our Ashley?¡¯ ¡®Well, um¡­ okay,¡¯ Oliver stretched, a little disappointed. ¡®What name do you suggest?¡¯ James looked at Ashley, she smiled embarrassedly. ¡®Annwn,¡¯ said he. ¡®What?¡¯ Oliver snorted incomprehensibly. ¡®Annwn. Pronounce, Ann-oon. That¡¯s the Otherworld in Welsh mythology.¡¯ ¡®Otherworld? What is it?¡¯ ¡®Actually, it¡¯s not really known. Some believe it¡¯s the realm of the deities, and some believe it¡¯s the realm of the dead. There are various interpretations.¡¯ Oliver scratched his forehead. ¡®Well,¡¯ he said after about half a minute, ¡®let¡¯s get this¡­ what¡¯s-its-name. Now we need to get onto orbit and start exploring ¨C¡¯ ¡®Not now!¡¯ James cut him off, not hiding his irritation. The boy, clearly offended that no one shared his enthusiasm, walked back to the engineering workstation, muttering something, and sat down there. ¡®Well, what¡¯re you going to do?¡¯ Ashley continued questioningly. ¡®What¡¯re you going to do?¡¯ James retorted with a smile. ¡®You¡¯re the commanding officer.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not a pilot,¡¯ said the girl. ¡®You¡¯re a pilot. So, as the commanding officer, I ask you, what are you going to do?¡¯ ¡®When did a pilot make a decision to bypass a commander?¡¯ James muttered. ¡®Unless it was when he became the commanding officer.¡¯ ¡®When the commanding officer doesn¡¯t know how to fly a spacecraft,¡¯ Ashley said, embarrassed. ¡®I know this situation is unusual, but that¡¯s what we have now. So what are you going to do?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m going¡­ I¡¯m going to¡­¡¯ James collected his thoughts and was stalling for time. The easiest thing to say was that he had no idea what to do, because he really had no idea. Finally, another thought occurred to him. ¡®I¡¯m going to increase the power of the main engine a little so that we pass this celestial body on a flyby trajectory,¡¯ he said. ¡®We won¡¯t return to our previous trajectory¡­ I mean, we won¡¯t return right away. But we¡¯ll have time to calculate a manoeuvre for return. Oliver¡­¡¯ he turned to the engineering station, ¡®you¡¯ve already mastered tensor calculus, and proved Fermat¡¯s Last Theorem. You can start calculating. I need ¨C¡¯ ¡®Fermat¡¯s Last Theorem was proved in the twentieth century,¡¯ the boy responded grimly. ¡®But I know what you need. It¡¯s a piece of cake.¡¯ ¡®Great! Do it.¡¯ ¡®Do what?¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®He knows,¡¯ James said back. ¡®Actually, the first thing we need to know is how far off course we are. Then, we need to calculate how much we need to increase our speed to escape the planet¡¯s gravitational field and the manoeuvre to return to our previous trajectory. Am I making myself clear?¡¯ ¡®Not clear,¡¯ Ashley said with annoyance in her voice. ¡®You¡¯re forgetting again that this isn¡¯t your fighter.¡¯ ¡®Not at all.¡¯ The girl had a pensive look on her face. ¡®Anyway, it shouldn¡¯t have happened,¡¯ she said and continued, seemingly catching James¡¯s puzzled look, ¡®The trajectory was calculated correctly, I¡¯m one hundred per cent sure. Moreover, Cooper engine ¨C¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ Oliver interjected. ¡®Remember what happened to the Pioneers.¡¯ ¡®Pioneers?¡¯ Now Ashley¡¯s face has a perplexed expression. ¡®Pioneer 10 and Pioneer 11,¡¯ said the boy. ¡®These spacecraft were launched in the mid-twentieth century to explore the outer planets of the Solar System, as far as I remember. But later, NASA decided to continue the mission while the spacecraft would be able to transmit information to Earth. They flew further, but suddenly, it appeared that both spacecraft were moving more slowly than expected. NASA specialists and other scientists have been thinking for a long time about the reason. Was it the influence of unknown Kuiper belt objects or even dark matter? Only later did they come to the conclusion that the cause was gas leaks from the spacecraft¡¯s radioisotope thermoelectric generators.¡¯ ¡®Fascinating!¡¯ Ashley grinned. ¡®There¡¯s only one detail. We haven¡¯t radioisotope thermoelectric generators, and any gas leaks we haven¡¯t, too.¡¯ ¡®Yeah,¡¯ Oliver nodded in agreement after a short pause, ¡®we haven¡¯t¡­¡¯ James missed what Oliver said next, only hearing Ashley¡¯s reply. The plan he had come up with had seemed flawless at first, but now, one question after the other was coming to his mind. How far away from the planet¡¯s surface should the shuttle be so that the effect of a gravitational slingshot would work? Gravity-assisted flybys can not only add momentum but also subtract it to decrease the energy of the shuttle¡¯s orbit. Will the shuttle get back on course to the rendezvous point if it exits this gravitational slingshot at a 90-degree angle to its current trajectory? Which way will that slingshot throw them? The thoughts raced through his mind at such a rapid pace that it seemed as if he himself was running at a fast pace. ¡®Wait!¡¯ cried he. ¡®We cannot calculate anything now ¨C¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ Oliver turned around in his chair and looked at James, perplexed. ¡®Because! We¡¯ve been diverted from our previous trajectory. Do we know which way?¡¯ ¡®What do you mean, which way?¡¯ the boy laughed. ¡®I mean, whichever way that ice thing pushed us.¡¯ ¡®Rubbish!¡¯ Smile disappeared from Oliver¡¯s face. ¡®I have all the parameters of our flight before we enter the gravitational field of this planet,¡¯ he continued in a rather harsh tone. ¡®It¡¯s clear and simple.¡¯ ¡®Just like that, clear and simple?¡¯ ¡®Sure,¡¯ the boy replied in a confident tone. ¡®Maths doesn¡¯t lie. I''ll upload all the parameters now¡­¡¯ his fingers run over the touchpad of the engineering station, ¡®and we¡¯ll get a complete picture¡­ Or not¡­¡¯ ¡®Brilliant!¡¯ said James and recited, ¡®He thought he saw an argument that proved he was the Pope. He looked again, and found it was a bar of mottled soap.¡¯ ¡®T¡¯s not funny,¡¯ Oliver snorted disgruntledly and staring back at the engineering station screen as he continued his work. The next couple of minutes were filled with the sounds of instruments and Oliver¡¯s fingers tapping on the touchpad. James glanced furtively at Ashley. She remained silent; her eyes seemed to be looking somewhere beyond the command section. ¡®Well,¡¯ said the young technician finally, leaning back in his chair. ¡®There shouldn¡¯t be any questions now. The only thing left to calculate is how close to the surface we have to fly to take advantage of the effect ¨C¡¯ ¡®You¡¯ve just learnt tensor calculus, and you¡¯re calculating something that a whole bunch of scientists have been working on for years!¡¯ James thought he said it harsher than needed, but it was too late. ¡®A couple of minutes before this fucking thing appeared on the sensors, you told us the position was according to plan. Do you know anything at all ¨C¡¯ ¡®I know what I¡¯m doing!¡¯ cried Oliver, frowning. ¡®By the way, this has nothing to do with tensor calculus. There¡¯s a programme I just have to modify a bit to use the parameters of the planet we discovered. As you can guess, they¡¯re not in the database yet.¡¯ ¡®Theoretically?¡¯ ¡®And practically. T¡¯s not complicated. Okay, t¡¯s not as simple as I said, but the programme worked more times in most cases. My modifications just ¨C¡¯ ¡®Your modifications?¡¯ cried James. ¡®You¡¯re a super-duper programming guru?¡¯ ¡®The programme will give us the raw data anyway,¡¯ said the boy without emotion. ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ James had just yelled. ¡®I¡¯m sure!¡¯ Oliver responded in the same way. ¡®Scout¡¯s honour? ¡®Scout¡¯s honour!¡¯ ¡®You weren¡¯t a scout!¡¯ Out of his eye¡¯s corner, James noticed Ashley grimace. ¡®I was!¡¯ the boy yelled. ¡®And as you know, a Scout once, a Scout forever ¨C¡¯ ¡®Shut up, both!¡¯ cried Ashley. ¡®You two are so keen to show each other that you are grown-ups, yet you act like kids!¡¯ There was silence in the control section. James heard only the ringing in his ears. ¡®I¡¯m done, by the way,¡¯ Oliver said calmly after about half a minute. His face showed no trace of the anger he had just burnt with. ¡®Wanna check my calculations?¡¯ ¡®I wanna,¡¯ Ashley said. ¡®Please be so kind,¡¯ the boy laughed. ¡®I wondered if I was wrong.¡¯ And he winked. James felt really bad that he had lost his temper. A Space Force pilot should never let his emotions get the best in a situation like that. ¡®What do you say?¡¯ Oliver¡¯s voice came to him. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ he replied, wondering that he not only thought it; he said it out loud. ¡®It seems that¡¯s alright,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ Oliver asked wryly. ¡®Check,¡¯ the girl replied, giving him a mischievous look and suddenly burst out laughing. Oliver laughed, too, and James felt himself nearly cracking up with laughter. Later, it seemed to him that for the next few minutes there was nothing but wild laughter in the control section, bouncing off the bulkheads and drowning out all other sounds. ¡®It was¡­ a stress response,¡¯ said Ashley when they gradually stopped laughing. ¡®Are you okay?¡¯ Oliver said nothing; James shrugged. ¡®Maybe,¡¯ said he. ¡®We-ell,¡¯ Ashley stretched out, ¡®so ¨C¡¯ ¡®Let¡¯s get to work,¡¯ Oliver finished after her. The tension had disappeared as if it had never existed. A moment later, James was staring intently at the screen at the flight control station, where Oliver and Ashley¡¯s calculations were coming in. It was hard to make sense of the mathematical expressions without the help of a computer program that translated pure mathematics into a set of commands for the engine, but the flight plan that appeared as the program ran made perfect sense to him. Half an hour later, it was done. As he studied the flight plan again, he thought it looked realistic and feasible. There was one last thing to do. ¡®Ashley, have you checked everything?¡¯ he asked, just in case. ¡®You bet I have, three times,¡¯ she said. ¡®I even ran the simulation through the on-board computer.¡¯ ¡®So we should be able to do this?¡¯ ¡®No doubt,¡¯ Oliver said instead of Ashley. ¡®I¡¯m not asking you, kid,¡¯ whispered James. ¡®Jimmy!¡¯ Ashley¡¯s quiet voice reached him. ¡®Enough! It¡¯s time to start the programme.¡¯ James continued to enter the data and then started the programme. An error message appeared on the screen; he pounded his fist on the console. ¡®Why ¡®m I totally unlucky?¡¯ he exclaimed. ¡®Maybe you made some mistake,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®Impossible!¡¯ he shouted. ¡®I checked all the dates twice.¡¯ The girl smiled slyly. ¡®Maybe you should have checked three times?¡¯ ¡®Fuck!¡¯ ¡®Mind your language, kid,¡¯ said she with the same mischievous smile on her face. ¡®T¡¯s not funny,¡¯ said he. ¡®And by the way, even a king used to say that word in similar situation. ¡®Which king?¡¯ Oliver interjected. ¡®Charles the third¡­ or maybe William the fifth, I don¡¯t remember.¡¯ ¡®Okay, boys¡­¡¯ It looked like Ashley had decided to get things back on track. ¡®¡­All that being said, historical parallels aren¡¯t going to help us. No king has ever been faced with a situation like this before. And if I understand you right, Jim, we don¡¯t have much time.¡¯ ¡®You understand me right,¡¯ James said grumpily. ¡®So,¡¯ the girl continued, ¡®we must concentrate on finding a way out. Do we have any other options?¡¯ ¡®We¡¯ve no other options,¡¯ James snapped. ¡®The programme was correct; there were no mistakes in entering the parameters. I checked everything more than once; you can be sure of that.¡¯ ¡®Calm down, Jimmy¡­¡¯ She got up and walked over to him. ¡®¡­Let¡¯s have another look at that. Maybe we simply missed something¡­¡¯ Emphasising the ¡®we¡¯, she ran her hand gently over his head, giving him a warm and cosy feeling. ¡®Okay, let¡¯s have another look,¡¯ said he quietly. ¡®That¡¯s right,¡¯ said she with a smile, leaning over his shoulder and staring intently at the screen. Her breasts touched his shoulder, sending a spark through his entire body. Some extremely extraneous thoughts appeared in his mind. They were pleasant thoughts, but not the ones he needed right now. Oh no¡­ James pleaded mentally, fearing he might not hold back any longer. Ashley could not hear him but moved away a little. It has become easier for him now. ¡®I see what¡¯s wrong,¡¯ said she after a long pause. ¡®This is not yours but my mistake. I didn¡¯t take into account the gravitational effects of this thing¡­ I mean, the planet or whatever it was that pulled us in ¨C¡¯ ¡®I took it into account,¡¯ said he, jabbing his finger at the screen. ¡®This is the standard equation for the escape trajectory calculation in the vicinity of a planet.¡¯ ¡®Gravity has nothing to do with it,¡¯ came Oliver¡¯s voice, and he himself suddenly appeared behind the pilot¡¯s chair. ¡®I mean, it has, but that¡¯s not the point,¡¯ he went on. ¡®Did you use the test programme?¡¯ ¡®Yes, indeed,¡¯ James said irritably. ¡®Me too,¡¯ said Ashley and continued, ¡®I think one of us made a mistake, but not a fatal one, so the test programme just missed them ¨C¡¯ ¡®No one of you made mistakes,¡¯ said Oliver. ¡®The error occurred on its own. The test programme that checks the correctness of the main programme found no errors. But it¡¯s a dumb programme, like a spell checker. It checks by a list, like if by the rules there should be a comma, so put a comma, there should be a subject and a predicate in the sentence, so¡­ Well, you know what I mean. But there are too many parameters, so somewhere might be a little mistake, not a mistake, just an inaccuracy. The programme also has its own periods and commas, but they are labelled differently.¡¯ ¡®Alright, what do you suggest?¡¯ James asked. The boy scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. ¡®Firstly,¡¯ he said, after a short pause, ¡®check the joints. I mean the fragments where the subroutines join. There might be¡­ well, sorta syntactic trifles that the programme doesn¡¯t take as a guide to action because it doesn¡¯t know¡­ you know, like a fork without a clear indication of where to go, you know?¡¯ ¡®And that¡¯s all?¡¯ said Ashley. She touched James¡¯s shoulder with her breasts again and again, causing his mind to think thoughts completely inappropriate to the situation, so he missed what Oliver, who was also leaning over the console, said. The boy''s fingers were running along the touchpad. Lines of programming code scrolled across the screen. ¡®Yep!¡¯ exclaimed Oliver suddenly. ¡®I found it!¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ James asked mechanically. ¡®Never mind,¡¯ Oliver shook his head and fixed something in the code with a few strokes of his fingers. ¡®It should work now,¡¯ he said smugly. ¡®Scout¡¯s honour?¡¯ James grinned. ¡®Scout¡¯s honour!¡¯ the boy grinned back. ¡®Hit enter, man.¡¯ James grinned again and hit enter. Nothing happened. Nothing happened at all. Suddenly, James felt a sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. ¡®It had happened before¡¯, flashed through his mind. ¡®What a ¨C¡¯ he began, another well-known voice cutting him off. ¡®That procedure is not recommended.¡¯ Already expecting something like that, he flinched anyway. ¡®Bloody fucking hell!¡¯ cried he. ¡®It caught us again,¡¯ said Ashley. The smile that had lit up her face a moment ago was gone. There was no need to interject what she meant. It was clear without any further ado. They were trapped again, and there was no way out of this trap. Chapter 15 James felt that time suddenly rushed, like the rushing waters of a river flowing down mountains, and like swift waters that swirled in whirlpools, it seemed to turn into a vortex in which he was nearly drowned. He wondered why such a colourful comparison had suddenly appeared in his mind. The comparison was quite appropriate to the situation indeed, but completely useless. Another thought came to his head at the same time. He must find a way out as soon as possible. Otherwise, there would be no ¡®later¡¯, neither for him nor his two companions who now stood on either side of his chair. The rock-ice celestial body, he could see as a blurred spot on the vewscreen, could become the Otherworld for all three of them. ¡®Concentrate, concentrate, you must concentrate!¡¯ he kept telling himself over and over again, but he was not able to concentrate. Various images that flashed before his eyes were not of the present but of the past when he was not yet a Space Force pilot and could not even imagine that one day he would be. He turned around and looked at his companions. Ashley¡¯s face expressed confusion, and Oliver looked thoughtful. He shifted his eyebrows, then ran a finger over his nose and said a harsh word in a near-silent whisper; James could only guess at the movement of his lips. Ashley took a deep breath. ¡®We can do nothing,¡¯ said she sadly. ¡®You think so too?¡¯ said James, turning to Oliver again. The boy shrugged. ¡®I dunno,¡¯ he muttered, barely audible. He could feel the whirlpool he was caught in continuing to swirl, pulling him deeper and deeper into it. Panic, that is what it was, he thought. It was panic that kept him from thinking. That has happened to him before, most recently when¡­ when¡­ ¡®We can do nothing,¡¯ Ashley repeated in a whisper, and James mentally berated himself for not realising before. The same sickening sense of his helplessness had gripped him when the shuttlecraft¡¯s damned artificial intelligence had blocked all their attempts to change orbit after the supply spacecraft had exploded. What had they done then? Maybe they need to do the same again? ¡®No way!¡¯ he shouted. ¡®We can do something. We¡¯ve done it once before, so we¡¯d do it again.¡¯ ¡®What we¡¯ve done?¡¯ asked the girl distractedly. ¡®Dr. Bowman said this shuttle was designed for scientific research,¡¯ he began instead of answering. ¡®Therefore, its artificial brain was designed for scientific research, right?¡¯ Ashley nodded in confirmation. ¡®So,¡¯ James went on, ¡®the main thing for us is that this activity would distract it.¡¯ ¡®Do you think about artificial intelligence ¨C¡¯ Ashley began. ¡®I¡¯m just stating a fact,¡¯ James interrupted her. ¡®Why do strange things keep happening? Why did we end up here? We miscalculated, got caught in the planetoid¡¯s gravity, or our too-clever computer directed the shuttle here. Think about that.¡¯ ¡®Okay, what do you want from me now?¡¯ The girl said that with a note of annoyance in her voice. ¡®He wants you to give it the hardest task,¡¯ Oliver chimed in, visibly revitalised. ¡®Which task?¡¯ Ashley seemed not to understand. ¡®For example¡­ for example ¨C¡¯ James began and stopped, having no idea. ¡®Yep, for example, ask it to analyse all the parameters of the orbit and everything else of this damned planetoid, calculate how much time it takes to make a full revolution around the Sun; the duration of a full revolution on its axis, and at the same time have it look for satellites. I mean, the planetoid can have satellites, right? Well, and anything else you can think of. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d think of something, you¡¯re so brilliant. By the way, at the same time, we¡¯re going to collect all the information we can about our discovery; otherwise, it¡¯s going to be really stupid: we¡¯ve found a probable new Solar System planet and can¡¯t say anything about it.¡¯ ¡®And?¡¯ Ashley shook her head. ¡®We¡¯ll try to bypass that too clever brain once more,¡¯ Oliver whispered in a barely audible voice, almost only with his lips. ¡®I dunno about you two,¡¯ James went on. ¡®I don¡¯t wanna kick the bucket here.¡¯ ¡®No way!¡¯ Oliver picked up decisively and added with a chuckle, ¡®We¡¯re the stars of this show.¡¯ ¡®Which show?¡¯ Ashley asked irritably. ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ said James. ¡®He means the stars can¡¯t die on screen, otherwise the show would be over as soon as it started, right? ¡®Yep,¡¯ Oliver nodded and continued meaningfully, ¡®by the way, I personally have big plans for the future. I wanna be an engineer, produce a couple of offspring ¨C¡¯ Ashley giggled. ¡®¡­Well, not right now, of course,¡¯ the boy added a little embarrassed, ¡®later¡­ um¡­ someday. Anyway, first I¡¯m going to get out of this cesspool.¡¯ By cesspool, you mean that planetoid you''ve dreamed of exploring up and down?¡¯ said James with an involuntary smile. ¡®I mean the fucking shit we¡¯ve got ourselves into,¡¯ said Oliver. ¡®Pardon my French,¡¯ he added, looking at Ashley. The girl giggled again. ¡®So,¡¯ James picked up, ¡®we¡¯ve got to do what we¡¯ve got to do, we haven¡¯t got much time. Come on, Ashley, concentrate, and give the shuttle¡¯s brain the task, which would make it forget everything in the world. While it¡¯s straining its optic electronics or whatever its brain is, we can fix the program, test it again, and finally try to break free. Check?¡¯ There was a noticeable light in the girl¡¯s face that James mentally marked as a good thing. ¡®Check,¡¯ said she, nodding and smiling. Then she took a deep breath, her brow furrowed as if she was thinking for a second; then she shook her head and began, ¡®Computer¡­¡¯ The task she gave the artificial intelligence was almost exactly the same as James had suggested. He did not listen to her words and returned to the programme still displayed on the flight control station screen. Out of the corner of his ear, he then heard the sacramental ¡®Complying¡¯, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the countdown on the main viewscreen. The shuttle¡¯s artificial brains had taken more than two hours to complete the task. He thought that was exactly what was needed and immersed himself in the programme. The thing he disliked most was doing. Writing a programme was easy; he had probably done it hundreds of times. Making a programme work was much harder. Checking for errors in the command codes and everything else was the most painful part of the process. He had not even realised that he was saying all this out loud, albeit very quietly. Ashley heard him. ¡®Let me have a go,¡¯ she said. It took James a moment to catch on. ¡®No,¡¯ he said. ¡®I mean, yes, you¡¯ll do it, but I¡¯ll do too, and then we¡¯ll compare the results. One head is good, but two are much better. Oliver, you¡¯ll have something to do too¡­¡¯ For a while, his work distracted him from the thoughts that kept popping into his head. Twice, he thought he had made a mistake and had to start again. In the top right corner of the main viewscreen, the countdown to the computer¡¯s task completion was running. Meanwhile, on the view screen itself, the outline of the planet the shuttle was approaching was becoming clearer and clearer. All James could think about was whether the computer would run out of time before the shuttle reached the calculated point at which it would have to change its trajectory. Would artificial intelligence not take over again? At last he was finished, handed over his part of the calculations and the programme to Ashley for checking over, and got a bit of a breather. There should be no mistake this time. If the artificial intelligence was the cause of the shuttle going out of control, they had only one chance. The thought was so entrenched in his mind that he did not immediately hear the girl¡¯s voice. ¡®There doesn¡¯t seem to be anything wrong,¡¯ said she. ¡®The programme should start without any problems.¡¯ ¡®You mean it just seems to be, or really?¡¯ he asked back, turned to her side. Ashley shrugged. ¡®We¡¯ll only find out once we get the programme up and running,¡¯ said she. ¡®If it¡¯s not too late already,¡¯ he muttered. Suddenly, something changed on Ashley¡¯s face. ¡®There¡¯s only five minutes left¡­¡¯ she whispered a warning. ¡®Only five minutes!¡¯ James glanced at the countdown again. They would barely make it. The artificial intelligence sped up. When he took a look at the numbers in the viewscreen right corner last lime there was showed twenty minutes to complete the task. ¡®Okay, okay,¡¯ he continued in the same way, as quietly as if to himself, then added a little louder, ¡®Oliver, what about the drive system?¡¯ ¡®Same as always,¡¯ the boy responded. ¡®Sure?¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t panic, man,¡¯ Oliver chuckled. ¡®I¡¯ve got it under control.¡¯ His voice sounded cheerful. ¡®Are you saying you¡¯re prepared?¡¯ ¡®Always prepared,¡¯ the boy said, raising his hand in a scout salute. ¡®Three minutes,¡¯ Ashley whispered again. He glanced at the main screen and felt his feet suddenly go cold. ¡®Two minutes¡­¡¯ the girl¡¯s voice came to him again. The cold that bound his legs was rising higher and higher, already engulfing the whole body somewhere around his stomach. Time rushed on again, turning into a vortex that drew him in deeper and deeper. It seemed like there was no way out, no matter how hard he tried, though he was not trying to get out at all. He was sitting silently in his chair at the flight control panel, staring stupidly at the viewscreen, which showed a barely perceptible approaching celestial body. It was still in a small sphere form with blurred edges, visible only because the shuttle¡¯s artificial brain was processing sensor data to create an image on the viewscreen. He sat motionless, staring at this image like a deer caught in the headlights. ¡®Like a deer caught in the headlights¡¯, flashed through his mind. ¡®A good comparison, considering what could happen very soon,¡¯ he thought. ¡®What happened?¡¯ Ashley whispered. ¡®It¡¯s time. Run the programme!¡¯ He was still sitting on his chair, motionless. ¡®C¡¯mon, man,¡¯ Oliver chimed in impatiently, ¡®England expects!¡¯ ¡®Jimmy!¡¯ cried Ashley, jumping up from his seat and rushing towards him. ¡®Ji-i-i-mmy!¡¯ Her hand touched his shoulder, and a spark seemed to run through his body. And this spark brought him out of his stupor. He felt as if something had thrown him into the air. His fingers automatically fell on the touchscreen; automatically, without even realising how it happened, he gave the command to run the programme. That impulse lasted only a moment. Panic gripped him again. Was the manoeuvre calculated correctly? What would happen as the shuttle¡¯s trajectory slid them past the invisible point above the planet¡¯s surface at thirty thousand kilometres? That was the only thought that kept going round and round in his mind. He considered himself as rather bright in mathematics until it was time to put that knowledge into practice. Finally, he could not take it anymore. ¡®Ashley,¡¯ he whispered, ¡®look at that.¡¯ The girl leaned over the flight control panel, cocked her eyebrows in perplexity, and shook her head. ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Everything¡¯s wrong!¡¯ James replied. She rubbed her nose. ¡®Nothing¡¯s wrong¡­ I guess.¡¯ For the next half a minute, they kept silent. James closed his eyes and then opened them again, studying the readings on the screen at the flight control station. ¡®We¡¯re¡­ we¡¯re on¡­ on the new course,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®We¡¯re on the new course!¡¯ he cried. ¡®It¡¯s impossible!¡¯ ¡®Seems possible,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®I didn¡¯t doubt it,¡¯ joined Oliver, who was inconspicuously close by somehow. ¡®We had to get it done, and we¡¯ve got it.¡¯ The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. James looked at the readings again. All indications were that the shuttle was in the orbit they needed. ¡®I¡¯ve done it! We¡¯ve done it!¡¯ he exclaimed mentally and could barely manage to keep himself from bouncing in his chair. ¡®Not bad,¡¯ he muttered aloud instead. ¡®Grandpa said,¡¯ Oliver uttered meaningfully, looking at James and Ashley with the same meaningful expression on his face, ¡®everything depends on a result. If you go outside procedures and it blows up in your face, you¡¯re an idiot. If you go outside the box and it works, you¡¯re an original thinker.¡¯ ¡®Well, and who¡¯s an original thinker?¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®We all,¡¯ Oliver replied with a broadest smile ¡­ ¡­ The shuttle¡¯s control centre was so quiet it rang James¡¯s ears. He only glanced at the flight control console from time to time. Almost nothing changed in the data displayed on the tactical screen, and almost nothing changed in the image displayed by the external cameras on the main viewscreen. The shuttle was still on the same trajectory, which, if they had done nothing wrong, should eventually take them to the rendezvous point with the Endurance. If they had done nothing wrong and if the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence did not decide to intervene again. After that day, which was not just hard but extremely hard and nerve-wracking, followed several quiet, even boring days. His head tilted by itself from time to time, and he felt as if he were falling asleep. He had been here alone for the last four shifts, not without problems getting Ashley to rest. Not surprisingly, on top of that, he had been feeling anxious for the past six days of the flight, but he was getting more and more worried. Would the orbit they had entered by gravitational manoeuvres around the unknown planet they had discovered lead them to their destination, or were they now heading in a completely different, diametrically opposed direction? He asked himself this question over and over again without finding an answer. Oliver¡¯s voice jolted him awake. The boy appeared at the entrance hatch in his usual cheerful mood. James could not hear what he said, Ashley¡¯s retort only. ¡®Please don¡¯t tell us that you have two pieces of news, like good news and bad news,¡¯ said she. ¡®I always have only good news,¡¯ said Oliver with a smile. ¡®The engine system is working perfectly, the reactor is fine, the speed¡­ Well, you can see for yourself. I just need to know when to go into decel mode.¡¯ ¡®Not now, that¡¯s all I can say,¡¯ James replied gloomily. ¡®Without the long-range comms system, we can only rely on long-range sensors, which don¡¯t show anything yet.¡¯ ¡®Okay,¡¯ the boy reacted cheerfully as usual. ¡®By the way, I¡¯ve been looking at the data we¡¯ve collected on our planet; it¡¯s amazing!¡¯ ¡®Huh, so that¡¯s what you¡¯ve been doing instead of your regular duties,¡¯ said Ashley with a smile. ¡®Is it okay that I spent a lot of time fixing the life-support system the day before?¡¯ the boy replied slightly indignantly. ¡®And none of you said thanks. Oh, by the way, it was just a ¨C¡¯ ¡®You¡¯ve already told us about your heroic work,¡¯ said James. ¡®And we thanked you very much,¡¯ Ashley picked up. ¡®That nasty oil smell or whatever it was¡­ Oh, by the way¡­¡¯ she copied Oliver¡¯s intonation very closely, ¡®that was the day before yesterday.¡¯ ¡®Okay, okay¡­¡¯ the boy smiled smugly, ¡®let¡¯s call it a day. I¡¯d rather you listen to what I found. Guess how long it takes this planet to make a complete revolution around the Sun. Thirty-two thousand years, unbelievable!¡¯ He waved his hands around. ¡®¡­Just imagine, thirty-two thousand years!¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s an estimate and a very rough figure,¡¯ said Ashley. ¡®We¡¯d only been tracking this planet for a few hours, so it¡¯s unlikely we¡¯ve got accurate data.¡¯ ¡®Anyway, it¡¯s unbelievable!¡¯ Oliver went on in the same manner, almost choking with excitement. ¡®I just wish we could find something else ¨C¡¯ ¡®No way,¡¯ said James, interrupting him. ¡®I¡¯m not at all keen to go looking for another unknown planet.¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ said Oliver, feigning surprise. ¡®That was cool. You can think whatever you want, but at least look at this data. Yes of course, we tracked this object for a short time, but even a short time could gather a lot of information, and our shuttle¡¯s artificial brains were not lazy. We¡¯ve really discovered a ¨C¡¯ ¡®Cut your jet and ground,¡¯ James interrupted that very emotional monologue. ¡®All these data are still to be approved. And, if I¡¯m not mistaken, not every celestial body orbiting the Sun can be called a planet.¡¯ ¡®Not everyone,¡¯ the boy agreed, no longer waving his hands but keeping the same spirit of enthusiasm, ¡®anyway, we¡¯ve enough data to classify this particular celestial body as a planet¡­¡¯ He intonated the last word, waving his hands again. ¡®Look, this object is larger than all known Kuiper belt and Oort cloud objects. The mass is approximated, okay, but it¡¯s a bit more than Mercury¡¯s mass anyway. By the way, this has led us to speculate about its internal structure, which is quite different from any other known object in this part of the system it¡¯s the first. Secondly, we haven¡¯t found any satellites, okay, but the absence of satellites means nothing. The absence of mass-matched objects in the immediate vicinity means a lot. That means our object has cleared the space around it ¨C¡¯ ¡®What about the planetoid in orbit around which we encountered the supply craft, eh?¡¯ Ashley asked, joining the conversation. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ Oliver replied with a smug look as if it were his own personal achievement. ¡®The planetoid is too far away to interact with our planet¡­ Well, I mean, they have no effect on each other. As you have to know, but maybe you don¡¯t, the International Astronomical Union recognises a celestial body as a planet if: it orbit the Sun, has sufficient mass to assume hydrostatic equilibrium ¨C in short, it¡¯s almost round ¨C and, finally, it has cleared the neighbourhood around its orbit. We¡­ I mean, the object we discovered, has all three, so it¡¯s a planet in the full sense of the word. I mean, not a dwarf planet like Eris or Pluto, but a full-fledged planet of the Solar system.¡¯ After finishing his lecture, the boy sat down in the commander¡¯s chair with a smug look. ¡®Fascinating,¡¯ said James. ¡®Just tell me please what all this has to do with our mission.¡¯ ¡®We-ell,¡¯ Oliver stretched, ¡®I dunno what the mission description says, but we shouldn¡¯t have passed anything like that anyway.¡¯ ¡®We hadn¡¯t passed,¡¯ said Ashley, smiling, and added suddenly, ¡®Jimmy, aren¡¯t you hungry? I¡¯ll get you something to eat.¡¯ She got up from her seat and headed toward the entrance hatch. ¡®Uh-oh, I see, she¡¯s seriously interested in you,¡¯ Oliver whispered, leaning towards James and giggling. ¡®Don¡¯t waste your time, man,¡¯ he added more firmly, reached out his hand and patted James on the shoulder. James felt his cheeks get hot and glanced furtively at Ashley. Had she heard the boy¡¯s words? There was no reaction from her side; apparently, she heard nothing. He exhaled in relief and mumbled, ¡®What makes you think so?¡¯ ¡®Well, she cares about you so much,¡¯ Oliver continued with a sly smile and louder, as Ashley had already left the command section. ¡®T¡¯s nothing like that,¡¯ James said, still feeling himself embarrassed. ¡®She does, she does, I see,¡¯ the boy laughed, bouncing in a chair. ¡®You know a lot,¡¯ James grumbled, rising from his seat. It was a good time to stretch. ¡®What kinda problem?¡¯ said Oliver cheerfully. ¡®In my experience ¨C¡¯ ¡®Your?¡¯ James interrupted him, almost choking. ¡®Experience?¡¯ ¡®You¡¯d think I had no girlfriends,¡¯ the boy said importantly. ¡®Look, Oliver¡­¡¯ James grinned. The boy¡¯s manner seemed amusing in this case. ¡®If you helped her with her swotting, it doesn¡¯t mean she was your girlfriend yet.¡¯ ¡®We-ell¡­¡¯ Oliver stretched, ¡®not only ¨C¡¯ ¡®Okay, just honestly, did you sleep with her?¡¯ Oliver shook his head negatively. ¡®¡­Yeah!¡¯ ¡®Huh, you¡¯d think that would be the most important thing in a relationship,¡¯ said the boy, looking a little embarrassed. ¡®It¡¯s¡­ well, how can I put it¡­¡¯ James patted him on the shoulder condescendingly. ¡®That¡¯s the true relationship. Everything else comes with it.¡¯ Oliver opened his mouth, obviously having an objection, but had no time to say a word. Ashley came back with two dry-ration packs in her hands. She held one out to James. ¡®What about me?¡¯ Oliver blurted out. ¡®You had plenty of time to take one yourself,¡¯ said the girl, ¡®but James was here all the time.¡¯ ¡®Aha! Aha! I told you so!¡¯ the boy jumped in his chair again with a snide smile on his face. ¡®Shut up, kid,¡¯ James threw, disgruntled. ¡®Oh yeah, as usual, shut up, kid,¡¯ Oliver replied in a deliberately resentful tone with the same snide smile. Ashley shifted her eyebrows. ¡®What¡¯s you¡¯re talking about?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Never mind,¡¯ James hastily interjected, back to the flight control station. ¡®Oliver, tell me what we have with the engine system.¡¯ ¡®I told you, all under my control,¡¯ said the boy, leaning back in the commanding chair. ¡®How long ago did you look at the readings?¡¯ ¡®You two are so boring.¡¯ With these words, Oliver got up from the chair, visibly reluctant, and headed towards the engineering station. ¡®Nothing groundbreaking,¡¯ he continued, looking at the panel screen. ¡®One of the pressure sensors is glitching, if that¡¯s what you mean. I know about it, but that means nothing.¡¯ ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ said James. ¡®Bet!¡¯ replied Oliver carelessly. ¡®All the other sensors work fine; we¡¯ve no problem.¡¯ ¡®What do these sensors show us?¡¯ ¡®Well, to see it, I need to look at the flight control station,¡¯ said Oliver. ¡®By the way, you¡¯re closer to it and can do it yourself.¡¯ ¡®Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m eating,¡¯ said James, unpacking his dry-rations pack. The boy stood up from the commander¡¯s chair, made a step towards the flight control station, and leaned over. Suddenly, he smirked snidely and slid his fingers over the touchscreen control panel. ¡®What¡¯re you doing?¡¯ cried Ashley, it was too late. Suddenly, James felt his body lose weight. The young rascal had switched off the artificial gravity system. ¡®This is a survival test for you two!¡¯ he exclaimed, floating up the flight control station. James banged his knee on the nearby console¡¯s edge and so unsuccessfully felt a sharp pain and swore involuntarily. ¡®I hate zero gravity!¡¯ Ashley¡¯s annoyed voice came to him. The package of dry rations had fallen out of the girl¡¯s hands when the artificial gravity was switched off and was now floating somewhere between the engineering and the long-range sensor station. ¡®You¡¯re such a ¨C¡¯ James hit something again, this time with his shoulder. ¡®I hope you didn¡¯t steer us back to your favourite planet.¡¯ ¡®Relax, I didn¡¯t.¡¯ Oliver soared almost vertically over the middle of the command section with a smug look. ¡®I think it would be cool, though,¡¯ he continued. ¡®We really didn¡¯t know everything about our discovery. Like whether this planet has satellites, which is important.¡¯ ¡®Well, there¡¯s nothing else for us to do.¡¯ ¡®We¡¯re explorers, remember?¡¯ Oliver smirked. ¡®What was Tycho Brahe¡¯s motto? Something like, non fasces, non¡­ er¡­ how-did-he-say¡­¡¯ ¡®Uh huh, neither this nor that, just knowledge.¡¯ ¡®Exactly!¡¯ ¡®Aren¡¯t you afraid that you and all of us with you could suffer the baker¡¯s fate?¡¯ asked James with a laugh. ¡®What baker?¡¯ ¡®The Hunting of the Snark,¡¯ said James, ¡®I shall softly and suddenly vanish away ¨C and the notion I cannot endure.¡¯ ¡®Ah¡­¡¯ the boy waved his hand. ¡®I see. But as you have to remember¡­¡¯ he made an important face, ¡®that can only happen if the Snark turns out to be a Boojum, right? In our case, if the planet turns out to be¡­ um¡­ a black hole, for example, that¡¯s impossible.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re forgetting one important thing¡­¡¯ James made another circle over the flight control station, ¡®the Snark is the Boojum.¡¯ ¡®Who said that?¡¯ Oliver replied. ¡®Lewis Carroll himself,¡¯ James said. ¡®No way!¡¯ ¡®The real truth. He wrote about it in a letter to one of his¡­ hmm, little girls.¡¯ ¡®The Hunting of the Snark?¡¯ said Ashley. Seemingly, she had already adjusted to zero gravity and looked like her usual self again. ¡®I read it but didn¡¯t really get it.¡¯ ¡®Nobody got it,¡¯ said James, ¡®because ¨C¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s a very philosophical thing,¡¯ Oliver uttered meaningfully, taking a second lap around the control room. ¡®Yes indeed,¡¯ James picked up sarcastically, ¡®a kinda allegory of searching for the meaning of life.¡¯ ¡®Something like that.¡¯ ¡®Nothing like that.¡¯ James laughed. ¡®Old Carroll made a joke, just for fun, but somehow everyone thought it was something sorta.¡¯ ¡®Impossible,¡¯ said Oliver surely. ¡®Possible. Carroll liked to play such sorta games.¡¯ James suddenly found that floating in weightlessness was easy and pleasant, and the tension of the last few days somehow disappeared without a trace. ¡®They told me you had been to her,¡¯ he began, ¡®and mentioned me to him. She gave me a good character, but said I could not swim.¡¯ ¡®¡­He sent them word I had not gone,¡¯ Ashley picked up with a smile, ¡®we know it to be true. If she should push the matter on, what would become of you?¡¯ At the next moment, all three of them continued altogether in a chant, circling around the command section one after another, ¡®¡­I gave her one, they gave him two, you gave us three or more; they all returned from him to you, though they were mine before.¡¯ A lingering sound came almost simultaneously with the last words of their recitation. James was not immediately aware that it might be an external communication call. ¡®Someone¡¯s calling,¡¯ said he. ¡®Ashley, tell ¡®em we¡¯re not going to buy anything, subscribe to any new streaming service and join the Stop Global Cooling Society.¡¯ The girl gave him an incomprehensible look and then, probably having heard the signal herself, reached for the control panel. ¡®Endurance to ESV One,¡¯ came a voice over the loudspeaker. ¡®Endurance?¡¯ Ashley uttered as if in surprise. ¡®Endurance!¡¯ she cried, ¡®it¡¯s Endurance!¡¯ ¡®ESV One, can you hear us?¡¯ James did not recognise the voice. He never radioed with the spacecraft¡¯s crew. ¡®We can,¡¯ Ashley whispered in a faint voice. ¡®Louder,¡¯ said James. ¡®We can hear you,¡¯ Ashley repeated a little louder. ¡®This is Wilson,¡¯ came from the loudspeaker. ¡®To whom am I speaking?¡¯ ¡®This is Leverton,¡¯ Ashley reacted not immediately, and James remembered when and where he heard that name. ¡®Lieutenant Leverton¡­ uh¡­ reports ¨C¡¯ Ashley tried to continue but stopped. ¡®Leverton?¡¯ There was a distinct note of surprise in the Deputy Mission Commander¡¯s voice. ¡®Where is Major Jamison?¡¯ Ashley was clearly confused, having no to reply. ¡®Say that it¡¯s a long story,¡¯ James whispered. ¡®This is¡­ long story, sir,¡¯ said Ashley and giggled nervously. James thought he heard Wilson either hemmed or coughed. ¡®He might think we had gone a bit mad here,¡¯ he whispered to Oliver. ¡®Okay¡­ We don¡¯t have much time,¡¯ Wilson¡¯s voice came again after a short pause. ¡®Prepare to go into deceleration mode. We¡¯re coming after you.¡¯ ¡®Uh¡­ yes, sir,¡¯ Ashley responded more confidently. ¡®As speeds equalise,¡¯ came from the loudspeaker, ¡®approach to within ten metres. Can you do it?¡¯ ¡®Acknowledged, Endurance,¡¯ said James and repeated the instructions. ¡®Crew, prepare to go into deceleration mode.¡¯ He heard Wilson mutter something along the lines of ¡®What¡¯s going on out there?¡¯ but there was no continuation. The hours that followed were later recollected by James as a strange dream in the night. It was a dream with no beginning and no end, in which events changed chaotically, without any connection. He remembered activating the deceleration mode and making sure that Ashley and Oliver had moved their seats to the correct position. He remembered feeling the overload, but not when it went away. He also remembered Oliver¡¯s voice suddenly coming to him, as if from somewhere far away, ¡®Docking port is ready.¡¯ James could not see Endurance on the main viewscreen, but he could see the sensor readings. The distance to the nearest object was decreasing, and the speed readings of the shuttle and the object were closing in. ¡®Speeds have leveled off,¡¯ he reported, not knowing to whom, more to himself. ¡®Attention, ESV One. Prepare for docking,¡¯ came the voice over the loudspeaker. ¡®Ready for docking, ESV Bowman¡­ uh¡­ One,¡¯ said Ashley and put her hand over her mouth as if she had said something she should not have. None of them said another word. For a moment, James thought he could feel the shuttle shaking, but then he decided it was just his imagination. ¡®Docking complete,¡¯ came a voice suddenly. James did not immediately realise it was not the shuttle¡¯s artificial intelligence. The voice came from the external communication loudspeaker. ¡®Checking the docking port,¡¯ Oliver reported. ¡®¡­The docking port is verified.¡¯ James breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the control section, mentally noting from Ashley¡¯s and Oliver¡¯s faces that they were now feeling the same sense of relief that he was. In the silence that followed, James no longer heard the instruments or his friends breathing, just ringing in his ears. ¡®That was cool,¡¯ Oliver said after the longest pause. James closed his eyes for a second, feeling dead tired now, then he unfastened seat belts, not without difficulty, for his arms did not obey him very well, and got up from his chair looked at his friends. ¡®It¡¯s been an honour serving with you,¡¯ said he slowly. ¡®It¡¯s been an honour for us too,¡¯ Ashley echoed. There was a pause for a while again. The only sounds James could hear were those made by the instruments and the breathing of Ashley, who was sitting closest to him. Oliver perked up suddenly. ¡®Hey, you two wanna say that¡¯s all over?¡¯ he asked as if surprised, looked at James and then at Ashley with a thoughtful expression on his face. ¡®I do believe the best part is just beginning. And as you know ¨C¡¯ he paused, and then smiled and winked, ¡®through the mouth of a child the truth speaks.¡¯