Dear
blog readers: starting today, and continuing for two weeks and two days, I
shall blog “Learning Curve”, a science-fictional space opera by myself and
Leslie Fish.
****
Learning Curve
A Space Opera
By
Nathaniel Hellerstein
And
Leslie Fish
©
2011
Learning Curve
A Space Opera
By Nathaniel
Hellerstein and Leslie Fish
This book is dedicated to the memory of Wile
E. Coyote.
1. Undertaker Resurrected
1
2. Space Hero
11
3. Dear Diary
28
4. Sacred Hatred 38
5. Response Time 44
6. His Little List 60
7. The Wizard’s Bastard 71
8. Undertaker Overtaken 80
9. Close Encounters 89
10. Looting 101
11. Broke Down Palace 113
12. The Last Man 130
Song Credits: “The Wheel”, “Freedom Road”, “Space Hero”, © Leslie Fish:
“Joe Hill”, © Alfred Hayes
1. Undertaker
Resurrected
“Calling
Starbase Ayn, calling Starbase Ayn, come in please.”
He
stopped and listened to the radio. Nothing but static.
“Calling
Starbase Ayn, calling Starbase Ayn, come in please.”
He
listened again, as he had been doing, off and on, for the past twelve
kiloseconds.
Then
from out the crackle of radio static; “This is Starbase Ayn, please identify.”
He
yelled, “Starbase Ayn! Is that you?”
“This
is Starbase Ayn, please identify.”
“It’s
been so long, it’s been so long, since I’ve heard a voice, even a robot voice…”
“This
is Starbase Ayn, please identify.”
“This
is, this is, this is Redshirt! I
mean, Ishmael Redshirt! I mean, Lieutenant Ishmael Redshirt! Flying
Scout 23! Off the Starship Undertaker!”
Starbase
Ayn’s robot voice droned, “Engaging voiceprint scan… voiceprint confirmed.” The
signal was already louder and clearer than a few moments ago.
“How
long will I stay in radio range?”
“Your
present trajectory will take you out of radio range in… one point three
kiloseconds. Do you have any requests to make during that time?”
“Yes!
Activate the main replicator!”
“One
moment please…”
Lt.
Ishmael Redshirt looked around him. Scout 23’s control panel blinked red, blue
and green. Out the window the star field circled. Overhead was the cord leading
up to the bolo counterweight. Circling almost dead ahead was the disk of
planetoid Ayn. It was already visibly swelling; soon it would pass aside and
dwindle.
Starbase
Ayn droned, “Main replicator activated and on standby. Are you requisitioning
replacement parts?”
“Uh,
yes.”
“Are
you requisitioning replacement parts for Starship Undertaker?”
“Yes!”
“Are
the damaged parts reparable?”
“…
no…”
“Were
the parts damaged by normal wear and tear?”
“No!!!”
“What
items on board Starship Undertaker were damaged beyond repair?”
Lt.
Redshirt heaved a sigh, then said, “Starship Undertaker.”
Starbase
Ayn droned, “Starship Undertaker is not an item on board Starship Undertaker.
What items on board Starship Undertaker were damaged beyond repair?”
“Every item! All of them! Everything!
The whole ship! I saw it! I SAW IT!”
“Are
you requesting whole-ship replication?”
“Yes!!”
“Whole-ship
replication requires command-level authorization. Do you have clearance from
Captain John Claudius Kinndur?”
Lt.
Redshirt gulped, then said, “Captain Kinndur is… damaged beyond repair.”
“Do
you have clearance from First Mate Horatio Algernon Drudge?”
“He
too is… damaged beyond repair.”
“Do
you have authorization from three members of the crew?”
“There’s
nobody left but me.”
“Are
you requesting crew replication?”
“For
everybody but me.”
“Ship-and-crew
replication without command-staff or triplicate crew authorization is against
regulations. Any attempt to access replication facilities without proper
authorization will result in an immediate reprimand.”
“But,
but, you have to!”
“Any
unauthorized replication request will result in an immediate reprimand.”
“All
right then! I request replication!”
“What
is your authorization?”
“None!
Zero! Zip! This request is unauthorized!”
“You
will be reprimanded.”
“Fine!
But tell me this: who are you going
to report this reprimand to?”
“To
your commanding officer: Captain John Claudius Kinndur.”
“But
he’s vaporized! Along with the ship
and the crew! He doesn’t exist!”
Radio
silence…
“So
you have to replicate him! So you can
report me to him -- about my unauthorized request to replicate him!”
Radio
silence…
A
faint crackle of static…
Starbase
Ayn droned, “Unauthorized replication authorized. Reprimand filed. Stand by.”
Then
from the radio Redshirt heard this noise:
ZWEEENNNNGGGGG…
The
sound of materialization.
Then,
on the radio, he heard a chorus of voices.
Captain
John Claudius Kinndur roared, “Dammit!”
First
Mate Horatio Algernon Drudge cried, “Uh-oh!”
Ensign
Irving Nimrod Poindexter wailed, “MOMMEEE!”
Lt.
Redshirt closed his eyes, thinking:Those
are their replication cries, all right, same as ever. He had often heard
them before, one at a time, though never all at once like this. He wondered
what his own replication cry would be, and then figured that he didn’t need to
know.
Starbase
Ayn’s robot voice droned, “Welcome to Starbase Ayn. Your replication was
unauthorized. Lieutenant Ishamel Redshirt is responsible for this infraction.
Please take appropriate disciplinary action.”
Redshirt
pressed the transmit button. “Lt. Redshirt here. I took the initiative, sir.”
“In
my… absence?” said Captain Kinndur.
“Yessir.”
“In
my… unavoidable absence?”
“Yessir,
yessir.”
“Well
done, Lieutenant. Quick work!”
First
Mate Drudge’s voice sounded. “He wasn’t that
quick, sir. Look here.”
A
short silence. Lt. Redshirt looked at his own chronometer.
Kinndur
said, “One hundred and thirty-seven Rosie
days?”
Redshirt
said, “Yessir.”
“We’ve
been dead that long?”
“Yessir.
It took me awhile to get here.”
Drudge
said, “The last I remember, sir, we were about to engage with Malvolio’s forces
in orbit around planet Murphy. You said that nothing could possibly go wrong.”
Kinndur
said, “Yes, Number One, I remember. I also remember that right after I said
that, you ordered the Ensign to scan the ship.”
“It
was a reflex, sir. It seemed prudent.”
“And
right you were, Number One. So what happened then?”
Redshirt
said, “I saw it.”
Radio
silence.
Drudge
said, “Then report, Lieutenant!”
Lt.
Redshirt howled, “I saw it, sir. I saw it, I saw it. I - ”
Drudge
barked, “Lieutenant!”
Kinndur
said, “Mr. Redshirt… are you all right?”
“No
I’m not, sir, I am not all right,
partly because it’s been a long flight with no fuel on an orbit that’ll fling
me into deep space and out past Blackegg, sir, but mostly I’m not all right
because I saw it, sir, I saw it!”
“And…
what did you see?”
“I
saw death, sir, and glory and horror. I saw duty, and honor, and bloody
futility. Sir.”
Drudge
said, “Lieutenant...”
Kinndur
said, “No, no, let him go on.”
Redshirt
said, “The Overlord’s fleet filled the sky. So did ours. Mighty engines of war
swarmed like fireflies in the inky black of space. They flew like falcons, we
hurtled like hawks. Jets flared – craft accelerated – we closed – we engaged –
and then – “
Pause.
“Two
point six seconds into the battle, half my squadron was vaporized by gigawatt
laser. I know it was two point six seconds because I’ve reviewed the files
afterwards. Many times.
“At
two point seven seconds, the rest of my squadron got flashed. I somehow twisted
out of both beams’ paths, by luck I guess.
I never saw the beams.
“That’s
the funny thing, Captain, you don’t see the beams. Not from the side, not in
vacuum -- and if it hits you dead on, then you’re dead too. They never
mentioned that in the recruiting videos.
Those videos were always so beautiful,
sir. I don’t know if the explosions were that pretty in reality. I was too busy
to notice.
“The
explosions, Captain. They don’t go boom. No sound at all. They go silent.
Snuffed out. One moment on the radio you can hear the crew – yelling,
screaming, cursing – you can hear sirens, roars, crashes – real loud – and then
–
“
– well, it’s like the audio cuts off. Silent. Dead. Empty. Like space. They’re
gone.
“So
many explosions – and ships diced by lasers – and collisions with debris – ours
– theirs – the ships thinned out pretty
fast – In the end, you and Starship
Overlord got each other. You sprayed antimatter pellets and they launched a
heatseeker. They blew up first, you attempted evasion. You failed. I saw it.”
“I
saw it, Captain, I saw it, I can still see it, every time I close my eyes, and
I’m sorry that I’m ranting like this, I had to tell someone, and thank you,
thank you, thank you for listening to me rave, because I had to tell someone, I
had to tell you.”
“I
feel much better now.”
“Sir.”
Radio
silence…
“My
report: all ships and crews on both sides destroyed. I alone am escaped to tell
you. Total elapsed time of battle: one hundred and thirty-seven seconds.”
Long silence...
Eventually
Drudge said, “Mutual assured destruction.”
Kinndur
said, “A draw, Number One. As you predicted.”
Drudge
said, “That’s the trouble with space battles, sir. They’re no-win.”
Kinndur
said, “Yes, yes, Number One, the whole idea is flawed. As you pointed out.”
Redshirt
said, “The explosions blew me off course and damaged my craft. By the time I
regained control and made repairs, the only Starbase I could reach was this
one.”
Kinndur
said, “Starbase Ayn. From Murphy to the
planetoid belt, halfway across the Elvis system. With no fuel?”
“None
left over after the burn, sir.”
“But
surely you’ve been harvesting dark matter.”
“Yessir. I ran the neutralino antenna alongside the
bolo cable.”
“Oh,
you’re in bolo mode? …Of course, you
need the gravity.”
“It’s
been one hundred and thirty-seven days, sir.
I’ve been exercising.”
“Good, Lieutenant! Keep in shape! ...So
you can harvest enough dark matter to run your ship. Is your replicator working?”
“Yessir,
I can replicate air, water, food, equipment and fuel.”
Drudge
said, “We’re tracking his trajectory… he’ll be out of radio range soon. Shall
we attempt pursuit, sir?”
Kinndur
said, “Negative, the delta-vee’s too high. Ensign, he can make fuel; what orbit
can you plot for him?”
Ensign
Poindexter droned, in his nasal voice, “He’s going pretty fast… I’ve computed a
multiple slingshot that sort of works…”
Drudge
said, “That sort of works, what,
Ensign?”
“That
sort of works, sir!”
Kinndur
said, “Let me see that… yes, it does sort of work… good job, Ensign.
Lieutenant?”
“Yessir?”
“We
have computed a rescue trajectory for you. Transmitting.”
Redshirt
looked at his display. “Transmission received.”
Kinndur
said, “This will require only two…”
“
- three, sir - “ said Drudge.
“Only
three hi-gee burns, maybe a correction burn or two, and it will take you home.”
Redshirt
said, “To Rosie?”
“Yes,
planet Roseanne. Report to Starbase Prime at Kitchener Space Port.”
Redshirt
said, “You said, multiple
slingshots?”
Kinndur
said, “You will slingshot past… let’s see now… first around Crowley, then a
pass by Marilyn, a sizzling swing around Elvis, whip around Multivac, fling
past Capone, a big burn at Murphy, back past Multivac, by Crowley again, fly by
Liberty and then run home to Rosie.”
“That’s
a long strange trip, Captain.”
Kinndur
said, “Lieutenant, you are going on a Grand Tour of the Elvis system! And you
can thank the Ensign for it, too!”
“I
will remember.”
Kinndur
said, “You will keep radio silence; you will reconnoiter on each flyby; you
will scan for enemy activity; and you will laser your reports to Starbase
Gandalf on moon Gollum.”
“A
scouting mission?”
“Lieutenant,
this may be your most enterprising undertaking yet!”
“No
doubt it will, sir.”
“Then
be it so. Kinndur out.”
There
was a long moment of silence as Redshirt looked at his screen, then looked at
the now silent speaker. Finally he
punched the course into the navigation computer and set the autopilot. It occurred to him that the captain might –
just might – have transmitted a rescue message to one of the bases, stations or
repeaters ahead. Somebody might receive
the message and send for a rescue mission.
The rescue ship might pinpoint his location, find him, take him in tow
and haul him to safety sometime sooner than his long course would bring him
back to Roseanne.
Maybe.
With
a sigh, Redshirt opened the data storage cabinet and pulled out the last unread
disk within. It was a basic history
primer, guaranteed dead boring, but he'd read/watched/listened to every other
disk in the scoutship, right down to the repair and maintenance manuals. By the time he finished this, those manuals
might look fresh and exciting by comparison.
He
shoved the disk into the slot, poked the 'display' button, and began to read.
# # #
Our ancestors came here from another
star system, from its third planet outward from the star called Sun: a rock
world called Earth. The reasons why the Methuselah fled from Earth are lost in
the mists of time and legend; planetary
war, planetary disaster, even alien invasion are some of the current
theories. The Ellisonian Theory, that
our ancestors were exiles or fugitives from the law, is unworthy of
consideration.
It
must be emphasized that “Silent Sol” and “Lost Earth” have
a known position in the sky, but are called Silent and Lost because of
centuries of radio and laser silence. This silence was unexplained.
Recently Sol system has been radiating signals, but these remain indecipherable
despite all efforts to decode.
All we can say with certainty is that
in all the centuries since then we have learned nothing from 'Lost' Earth, and
our ancestors were sadly reticent about the cause of their flight.
They did, however, bring with them
their rich heritage of mythology from which we have drawn these names of the
various celestial bodies in our solar system:
Elvis. Our Sunlike star. Named
after the orphic savior Luv God.
Marilyn, a Hot Jupiter. Named after
the goddess of sex.
Roseanne, Earthlike. Orbits in the
middle of the habitable zone. Named after the goddess of motherhood. Its moons are Dan, Becky
and Darleen.
Liberty, 10-Earth-mass rock. Named
after the goddess of freedom. Orbits near outer edge of habitable zone. Its Mars-sized
moon is Columbia,
which in turn has a dwarf moon Sam.
Crowley,
a Neptune-sized gas giant. Named after the god of sorcery. It bears a ring,
shepherded by the moons Dobby and Gollum.
A planetoid
belt. Three minor worlds: Superman,
Batman, Pikachu. Also in the
belt: Rocky, Ali, Tonto and its moon Ranger, twin
asteroids Starsky and Hutch, Che, Lennon, Ayn, and many others. No planetoids are
themselves inhabited; long-term microgee is unhealthy; instead colonists live
in spinning habitats orbiting the planetoids.
Multivac, a 7-jupiter-mass gas
giant. Named after the god of wisdom. Its Earth-sized moons are Hal,
Arthur, Isaac, Robert and Larry. Its earth-sized
Trojan companions are Wells and Verne.
It has several dozen smaller moons, including the ice dwarf Harlan
(source of half of all space-habitat water) and a thin ring
(source of the most of the rest of habitat water).
Capone, a Mars-sized ice giant.
Named after the underworld god. Its moon is Hoover.
Murphy, a Pluto-sized ice dwarf.
Named after the trickster god. Hazardous to ice-mine.
The entire Elvis system is in orbit around a much more massive
star:
Blackegg, a 13-sol-mass black hole.
Named after the thief god. It is 1.3 light-days out; about 230 Rosie
orbital radii away. The Elvis system orbits Blackegg once every thousand Rosie
years. Its satellites are Loser
and Terminus; both small rocks, formerly
gas giants.
Redshirt looked at the
forward viewscreen, noted his ship’s position, and sighed.
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