The Horicon Experience (6 page)

Akir nodded but did not say anything. He knew it would take at least a week to reach Shalimar at their best speed, much less poking along like this.
No need to turn a nut loose in the control room
, he thought.

George looked back across the cabin at Akir. “There’s nothing to worry about, really,” he said. “I usually don’t answer myself, and I’ve never written myself a letter.” His grin let Akir know he hadn’t hitched a ride with a lunatic.

The scout ship seemed to be handling well, so George nudged the throttle bar forward another notch. The starfield shimmered and shifted only slightly as the scout picked up speed. George glanced at his speed indicator and saw they were running just into the yellow arc, which would make their speed at just under twice light speed.

Pretty slow
, George thought.
At this rate, it will take us a month to get there.

“We’ll run this speed for a while,” George said to Akir. “If the repairs hold, we’ll move up a notch every hour until we reach the low red zone. I don’t want to push too hard at first.”

“You’re the captain, sir,” Akir answered. “I’m just along for the ride.”

George leaned back in the control chair and stretched. It had been a long day; fourteen hours since they had left the mothership.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep, Captain?” Akir asked. “I’ll watch the store for a while.”

George stood, stretching the kinks from his back again. “I think I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “Just keep her on this heading and speed for an hour. If everything looks good, move us up a notch.”

“Yes, sir,” Akir answered. “I’ll try not to get us lost.”

George looked at Akir and saw a grin cross his lips and a mischievous squint in his eyes. He decided right then that he liked this young copilot.

∞∞∞

When the passenger ship approached Mica, Delmar and Stan joined the other passengers in the main seating cabin. After strapping in (more of a formality to keep passengers from wandering around than for protection) the young men gazed out the porthole at the scenic overview of the planet. The ship captain came on the intercom.

“We’ll land in a few minutes but in the meantime I hope you enjoy the view,” he said. “We’ll be over the capital city in half a minute. Those on the port side of the ship will be able to see the castle of the Grand Duke of Mica.”

Immediately, many of the passengers got back up and crowded over to the left side of the cabin. Fortunately, Delmar and Stan were already on that side and had an excellent location to view the sights. As promised, they were soon over the capital, and there on the hill, high above the capital city was the massive and inspiring castle of the Grand Duke. The morning sun was just hitting it, so its windows sparkled like jewels, lending an almost magical appearance to the structure.

It did not take long for the captain to announce they had received clearance to land and for everyone to return to their seats. Stan and Delmar looked out the window next to their seats and saw the sparkling buildings of the capital city.

“Mica,” Stan said to Delmar. “I never thought I’d ever get here. It’s so much different from my home world.”

Delmar could see by his friend’s expression that a new era in his life was going to open soon. He was glad he was here to share it with Stan. After all, Stan and he were close in basic, and after their shared experience where they were both injured on their final training cruise, they had become more like brothers than friends. This was a relationship Delmar didn’t mind having, especially since Stan was closer to him than his own brother, Dorn, had ever been.

The great ship landed at the spaceport. Before too long, the passengers disgorged into the terminal. The boys joined the throng of passengers making their way to the baggage-claim. Delmar looked the crowd over to see if he could spot the giant Mican guard that had chased him those many months ago his first night on Mica. He didn’t see the guard, and wasn’t particularly disappointed in the fact. And the one person he certainly did not want to see was Zeke, the old spacer that had tried to shanghai him that same night. If he never saw that old man again, it would be too soon. Then Delmar remembered that this was a different spaceport. He had landed at Port Mulvey, not Mica City the first time.

After claiming their bags, Stan and Delmar found the service duty counter to report in. A trooper-second checked their vouchers and gave them transport passes and instructions to get to the Mica Training Institute. Since the institute was a civilian facility, the boys would have to use public transportation to get there.

Delmar led them to the transit station where they waited for their ride. Delmar knew that Stan had never been on a transit system like this before. His friend was in for a treat. After a short time, their tube car arrived.

“Come on, Stan,” Delmar said, leading the way. “You’re going to enjoy this!”

They boarded the tube and Delmar made sure to get them good seats near the exit. The doors shut and the car levitated. Stan fidgeted as the car accelerated.

“How’s this thing work?” he asked.

“Basically, it’s like the drive system of the ships, except it’s contained within the tube,” Delmar answered.

“What prevents the car from piercing the side walls of the tube when it goes into a curve?” Stan asked.

“The repulsion field that’s a by-product of the drive keeps the cars from rubbing the side or piercing it,” Delmar answered. “They did discover that they’re limited to only about 800 miles an hour tops.” Stan’s eyes grew large at the last comment.

“Back home we only have surface transportation,” he said. “Mostly railed vehicles and hover cars.”

A tone and the announcement of an upcoming stop interrupted their conversation. Soon the commotion of passengers getting on and off was completed and the journey resumed.

“Who are these people you want me to meet?” Stan asked as the car settled back into a gentle rocking motion.

“Some friends I made last time I was here,” Delmar answered. “Jake and Sherry Sender.”

“What do they do?”

“He’s a disabled retired trooper chaplain. Now he’s a minister pastoring a temple congregation near Port Mulvey about half a day from here,” Delmar answered. “Sherry is a former Lady of the Fleet and did her training with Mom Hassel.”

“You mean Mrs. Hassel was in the service?” Stan said in surprise.

“I didn’t think you knew that, especially with your reaction to her having her own rifle,” Delmar said with a laugh. “She’s a pretty good shot too. Probably even better than Dad. She was a fleet pilot before she retired to be with dad.”

“I’m just not used to women being in the service,” Stan said, shaking his head. “Back home people don’t think women should be subjected to combat roles.”

“Don’t feel too bad,” said Delmar. “Most of the people in the Axia felt the same way for a long time. Women were in the service but they were relegated to minor clerical roles and were mainly decorative.”

“What changed things?” Stan asked. “It wasn’t covered in the classes we had back at basic.”

“If I understand it right, the change came after a base out on the rim came under attack by a force of Red-tails,” Delmar said. “There were mostly severely wounded troopers and a contingent of ladies. The women took up the weapons that they had only minimal exposure to and put up quite a fight. When reinforcements arrived, the ladies had beaten back several Red-tail assaults in spite of suffering heavy losses. The troopers who broke the siege were impressed with their valor, and from then on things began to change.”

“What? Was there an official edict or something?” Stan asked.

“No. The change came from within the ranks,” Delmar answered. “The troopers gave the women the respect they deserved, and finally the Axia recognized it. Since that time, the ladies have served right alongside the troopers. You see very few of them because they make up such a small contingent of the service.”

“Is their training any different from ours?”

“Not from what Mom Hassel and Sherry say,” Delmar replied with a chuckle. “It sounds like their drill instructors were just as tough as Buckner and Stoddard back at Freewater.”

“Wow!” was all Stan could think to say.

“I met Mom Hassel’s drill instructor on Erdinata just before I left for basic,” Delmar commented. “I can’t remember her real name, but Mom and Sherry Sender referred to her as Bulldozer Betty. And boy what a bruiser!”

Another tone sounded, followed by the announcement of their station. Delmar looked at his old pocket watch, the same one Mr. Hassel had given him so long ago, and saw that the ride across the city had only taken eight minutes, including stops.

Once the car came to rest at their platform, the boys got up and took their bags. Following the crowd, they walked onto the station concourse and out into the Mican sunlight. A short ride on a shuttle bus took them directly to the computer institute itself. A volunteer at the entrance pointed them in the right direction for all incoming students.

An hour later, the boys were standing in yet another line at the Registrar Office of the institute. Delmar figured it was just their luck to arrive right in the middle of registration for the new school year. Although the school was civilian, Stan and Delmar did notice an occasional student in uniform, but mostly in the dark blue uniform of the Mican Service. The boys found they had plenty of time to talk while waiting in line.

“For a planet that prides itself on its advancements in computers, this registration process seems to be inefficient,” Delmar remarked to Stan.

“That’s where you don’t understand computers,” Stan replied. “They don’t make things more efficient, because they still depend on humans to operate them.”

“But aren’t computers smarter and faster?” Delmar asked.

“Yes and no,” Stan answered. “They’re no smarter than your average tapeworm but they are extremely fast. Mainly at making mistakes.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to abide by that old service maxim,” Delmar said with resignation.

“Which one’s that?” Stan asked, rising to the bait.

“Hurry up and wait!” Delmar said as he turned to stare again at the back of the student in front him. Stan smiled and shook his head.

Eventually, they completed registration for their classes. Next, they had to get a room assignment in the men’s dormitory. Looking at the line, they decided to skip lunch to improve their chances of getting a room together. After forty-five minutes, they finally reached the counter.

“May I help you?” asked the harried clerk. Delmar looked at her obvious fatigue and realized that the students were not the only ones who dreaded registration day.

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Delmar politely. “We’d like a room together, if possible.” The clerk brightened at the courtesy.

“Let me check the files,” she said and turned to her vacancy records. “I have some doubles left,” she said. “Where on campus will your classes be?”

“Mainly in the Computer Research Department,” Stan answered for them as they both showed her their schedule forms. Again, the clerk consulted her listings.

“Here’s just the perfect room for you,” she said as she pulled out a card. “Since you’ll be in Professor Angle’s class, I assume you’d like one with the extra power and ground comm lines for computers,” she added.

“Thank you!” both men answered. They filled out the necessary paperwork and handed over their service vouchers to cover their room and board. Delmar looked wistfully at his remaining funds.
It’s a good thing we’re able to eat at the cafeteria by keying our food pass codes into the food synthesizers
, he thought.

After receiving their room assignment, Delmar and Stan again thanked the woman and rode a shuttle to their new home for the term; a massive brownstone building that appeared to be at least five hundred years old.

“Not much to look at, is it?” Stan remarked as they walked inside.

“It’s better than an open barracks,” Delmar offered.

After consulting the directory in the lobby, the two found their way upstairs to their new room. Opening the door, Stan and Delmar discovered a small but comfortable room for two. There was a bathroom with a shower off to one side, and adequate space for storage and books.

“Things are starting to look better and better,” Stan said. He threw his bags into one of the lockers.

“I think I’m going to like it here,” agreed Delmar as he also unloaded.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starved,” called Stan. He put away the last of his gear and headed out the door. “Last one to the cafeteria buys!”

“Hey!” yelled Delmar. He locked the door and raced after his friend.

It didn’t take much effort to find the cafeteria on campus. All they had to do was follow their noses. Inside, they found it similar to the chow hall back on Freewater Training Base where they had received their basic training. The major differences were that civilians populated it, and they had a choice of menu. To get food from the synthetic food dispensers required the insertion of ID cards and punching a selection. To get real cooked food cost real money.

“Well, maybe the quality of the food is different,” Stan remarked as they eyed the food dispensers. Hesitantly, they inserted their student ID cards and punched in their selections. The dispensers clunked and they pulled out the covered trays. Picking their way among the tables, they found one near the windows.

“What’d you get?” Delmar asked, watching Stan lift the cover on his tray.

“It’s supposed to be pot roast, but it looks more like old meatloaf,” Stan replied, eyeing his food suspiciously. “How about you?” Delmar lifted the cover on his tray.

“I ordered a hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes.” He looked at his food dubiously. Taking a bite of the slightly blue potatoes, he looked up at Stan in surprise. “At least it tastes right,” he said, taking a second bite.

After their meal, Stan and Delmar put their debris into the disposal chute and decided to explore the campus just to be sure where their classes met. The buildings had that distinctive institutional look that has been a universal standard of schools for centuries. Although the layout of the school made sense, they discovered they had one class that was on the opposite side of the campus, which meant they would have to hurry between their classes to make it.