“Copy that, Prime.”

  “The rest of Beta, you’ve got four hours to rest up and grab a bite to eat. Alpha, you’re up in the simulators after West and I. You can work out the order amongst yourselves. Any questions?” Joseph paused a moment. “No? Good. Let’s do this.”

  41

  Cross

  Pioneer. Guardian Module. 11.12.2052. 1120 hours.

  Joseph and West went through the gym to the small room in the corner. Both the room and the two boxy simulators were dark. It took them a minute to find the control to turn them on.

  As soon as they did, both simulators began emanating a soft green light from their dashboards. It was the only indication they had that the simulators were active.

  “Sit down and put the goggles on, I guess,” West said.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Joseph agreed. “Do you want the left or the right?”

  “Right.”

  “Copy that.” Joseph put up his fist, bumping West’s. “Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  Joseph moved the goggles aside to take a seat in the simulator’s cockpit. The cushioning was soft, and quickly molded to the shape of his body, hugging him firmly as he leaned back, reaching for the harness. He pulled it over his head and snapped it into place between his legs before placing the goggles on his head, covering his eyes and ears.

  The USSF logo was the only thing on the screen. It spun slowly in 3D as the system finished booting up.

  “I used to play air racing sims in Utopia,” West said while they waited. “I never got around to joining a league but I’ve won an informal match or two.”

  “You’re ahead of me then,” Joseph replied. “I’ve never sat in a cockpit before, virtual or otherwise. I always preferred the ground-based sims.”

  “It would be nice if all of this was just a game. Space Escape. That’s what I’d call it.”

  “You can think of it like a game if it helps your performance. Space Escape sounds too light, though. I’d call it Run For Your Life.”

  “Really? At least Space Escape gives you an idea what it’s about. Run For Your Life could be anything, like a marathon simulator.”

  “A marathon simulator? Is that a thing?”

  “Everything is a thing inside Utopia; you know that.”

  “Too many things were a thing there,” Joseph agreed. “Remember when they took it offline?”

  West laughed. “I remember thinking that would be the worst thing most people ever went through in their lives. Two weeks without Utopia? Horror show.”

  The spinning logo turned to a menu. “Here we go. I’m in.”

  “Me too. What do I pick?”

  Joseph scanned the menu. The last item at the bottom was trainer. “Bottom option.”

  “I see it.” They both entered the submenu, using the same eye muscle movements as they did for the ATCS. The new menu offered options for different experience levels. Beginner, intermediate, advanced and one last option that looked like it had been added in later. Total newbie.

  “Total newbie it is,” Joseph said, entering it. A third menu popped up.

  SO, YOU WANT TO LEARN TO FLY A BAYONET. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT ENVIRONMENT?

  There were three options: Earth, space and other. Joseph selected space.

  I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD CHOOSE SPACE. THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOME. HAVE YOU EVER FLOWN A SPACECRAFT OR AIRCRAFT BEFORE, INCLUDING IN UTOPIA?

  Joseph selected no. He was sure West picked yes.

  “Who the hell wrote these prompts?” West said.

  “What does yours say now?” Joseph asked.

  “If you’ve flown in Utopia, you don’t have much left to learn. The Bayonet’s controls are virtualized to allow direct translation from the most popular Utopia sims. There’s a launch button beneath it.”

  “That doesn’t sound all that helpful.”

  “Learn by doing, I guess. I can’t die in a sim.”

  “Go for it. I’m sure I’ll catch up at some point.”

  “Copy that, Prime. Here I go.”

  Joseph lifted his goggles to look over at West. He could only see part of her face, but she had a slight smile on it as her hands gripped the joystick and throttle. Then she pushed the throttle lever all the way forward, the seat jerking back in the box in reaction.

  “Oh, shit,” she said, working the joystick. “Whoohoo!”

  Watching her for a few more seconds, Joseph smiled in response to her enjoyment. His seat started vibrating violently, recapturing his attention. He pulled the goggles back on.

  SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT.

  He couldn’t help but laugh at the two available options. Who did write these prompts? They were obviously tacked on at the last minute, without oversight from anyone who would have rejected the casual language. Joseph selected shit. The text faded to black, and then the black faded to a computer-generated view of what he took to be Pioneer’s forward hangar.

  “Welcome to the USSF multi-atmospheric joint strike fighter JSF-4 Bayonet,” a calm male voice said. “My name is Goose, and I’ll be your trainer and co-pilot for the remainder of this tutorial.”

  “Nice to—”

  “There’s no need to speak during this tutorial. I will react to your control inputs and comment accordingly. You can acknowledge my requests by fulfilling them promptly. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Joseph said.

  “Didn’t I just say you don’t need to speak? I can’t hear you anyway. Hahaha.”

  Joseph sighed, slightly annoyed by the trainer’s programming.

  “Please look to your left.”

  Joseph turned his head until he was looking at the throttle.

  “That’s your throttle. Push forward to accelerate, pull back to neutral to stop accelerating. If you’re in space, the reverse throttle will also be available for retro-thrusters. This feature isn’t available in atmosphere. Please look between your legs.”

  Joseph looked down.

  “Nothing to see here. Hahahaha. Please put your right hand on your joystick. No, not that one. Hahahaha.”

  “How are you doing over there, Keesh?” Joseph asked.

  “I’m having a blast. How about you?”

  “I’m listening to a wise-cracking AI trainer named Goose make bad jokes while he teaches me to fly.”

  “So...Morales?”

  “Maybe worse.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “I will now go over the various functions of the joystick. The joystick controls your flight path and vector. To climb when in atmosphere, pull back to raise the nose of the Bayonet.Do the same in space to trigger the vectoring thrusters to rise relative to your orientation. Push forward to shove the nose down. Move left and right to make the Bayonet move sideways. Pro tip: banking is unnecessary to change direction in a vacuum. If you’d like to bank the Bayonet to change your profile, hold down the button directly under your pinkie. This can also be helpful to change vectors more quickly, as the thrusters beneath the wings are more powerful than the side fuselage jets. Do you understand?”

  Joseph didn’t respond that time.

  “I got you again,” Goose said. “Hahahaha.”

  “No you didn’t,” Joseph said. Why was he talking to it?

  “Let’s review the other buttons on the joystick. The primary trigger beneath your index finger will fire the primary BRG-25 multi-barreled railgun. It has a firing rate of nearly ten thousands rounds per minute. You can fire continuously for nearly five minutes without requiring reload. Pretty sweet, right?” Goose paused, expecting Joseph to respond.

  “The button beneath your thumb is a trigger for the Bayonet’s missile system. Since you’re in space, this Bayonet is armed with a dozen high-velocity impact rockets, capable of reaching speeds of up to one thousand kilometers per second within two seconds of deployment. Nasty little buggers. Depress trigger once to attain lock, a second time to fire. Pro tip: to reduce operational costs HVIs can only be fired one at a time. There’s one more button beneath your ring finger. That will activate a secondary burn. Pro tip: use this button carefully. The burn can increase acceleration to as much as twelve gravities, which you probably won’t survive. Hahaha. Please turn your attention to your dashboard.”

  Joseph looked ahead. The dashboard was relatively sparse, with a few manual switches and gauges.

  “The instruments on the dashboard are provided for continued flight in the event the flight-assistance computer is damaged or offline. We won’t cover these instruments during this tutorial, except for the most important switch in the center of the dash. That is your reactor start switch. Flip it up to begin sending power from the reserve battery to your fusion reactor to power the plasma thrusters. Flip down to turn it off. Pro tip: never turn off your reactor while you are actively engaged in flight. Hahaha. When the ready light turns green, the reactor is fully online and you’re free to fly. Please flip the switch now.”

  Joseph reached out, able to see his real hand reaching for the real switch at the front of the simulator. He flipped it up. The LED next to it started out red, pulsing on and off as the virtual reactor started to hum behind him.

  “Are you getting nervous yet?” Goose asked.

  He wasn’t. This was still a simulator. Even if he crashed he wouldn’t actually be hurt.

  The LED turned solid green.

  “Push the throttle forward approximately halfway. Hold the joystick steady. Don’t press any other buttons.”

  Joseph did as Goose said. Gravity coils in the back of the seat activated, pulling him back in his seat to mimic the g-forces. The VR world inside the goggles began to move, realistic enough that it fooled his mind and he felt a sudden rush of adrenaline pump through him. The Bayonet rocketed across the hangar, its landing skids scraping the metal until it reached the edge and went off, jetting out into space.

  “Whoooooo!” Joseph shouted, releasing the energy of his excitement.

  “Did you just launch, Prime?” West asked.

  “Hell yeah!” Joseph said. He was still pulled back against the seat, data streaming across his goggles indicating he was accelerating at close to two gs. He tried to push the throttle forward a little more, only to find it locked.

  “Since this is your first flight, you don’t want to push it,” Goose said. “While the Bayonet is equipped with a counter-inertial generator, you’ll need to go through proper breathing technique to avoid G-LOC.”

  “G-LOC?”

  “I bet you don’t know what G-LOC is. It’s an acronym which stands for g-force induced loss of consciousness. It occurs when g-forces pull too much blood away from the brain, which causes hypoxia. You don’t want that on your first flight. It might ruin your experience and prevent you from returning to play with me again. Please reduce your throttle by half and use the joystick to adjust your vector, making a soft left turn without doing a barrel roll. Hahaha.”

  Joseph followed Goose’s instructions, maneuvering the Bayonet into a flat turn, the rear port side vectoring thrusters pushing the craft’s backside while the main thruster continued accelerating. The gravity coils in the seat adjusted to mimic the change in direction, pulling him into the side of the cushioned seat. A smile split his face.

  This really was awesome.

  “Good job,” Goose said. “Now use the trigger to initiate a roll while you turn. This will automatically cause the wing vectoring thrusters to fire and provide added maneuverability.”

  Joseph did as Goose said. The Bayonet turned much more tightly, but the shift in vector sent a wave of nausea through his stomach. He flattened out instinctively.

  “It comes with practice. It can also help to fix your eyes on something while you turn, to give your brain a reference. A planet, a star, an enemy starfighter or nearby starship. It depends on the situation. You don’t want to be stargazing during a fight.”

  “I don’t want to get into a fight,” Joseph said, forgetting himself again.

  “Please try again.”

  Joseph found a star in the distance, keeping it in his field of view while he repeated the maneuver. He had better luck the second time, making the turn without feeling sick.

  “Do you see that asteroid ahead?” Goose asked.

  Joseph didn’t at first. It appeared a moment later, the Bayonet’s computer outlining it and showing its velocity and relative distance.

  “Please put a target mark on it.”

  Joseph knew how to do that. The system was identical to the ATCS in his combat armor. He marked the asteroid.

  “Good. Now, please accelerate and fire on it with your BRG.”

  He did as Goose said, pushing the throttle forward again, careful not to go too fast. He felt the pressure against his arms too, trying to pull them away from the controls. He could tell how flying would get tiring in a hurry if he had to make any higher-g maneuvers.

  He approached the rock, keeping it marked and bringing his crosshairs into the center of the mark. Then he started firing, the BRG sending dozens of rounds out at the asteroid. Clouds of debris floated up from it as the bullets hit.

  “Nice work, newbie,” Goose said. “Circle around and come back for a missile strike.”

  Joseph went over the asteroid, guiding the Bayonet back around.

  “Remember. First tap locks. Second tap fires.”

  He brought the crosshairs onto the asteroid again, tapping the missile control with his thumb. The reticle turned red, indicating the lock. He thumbed the control a second time, and a moment later a bright blue contrail zipped away from the port side of his fuselage, hitting the asteroid a moment later, kicking up much larger debris.

  “Mind the debris field,” Goose said.

  Joseph wasn’t expecting the sudden appearance of large chunks of broken rock. He tried to turn, forgetting the roll controls, forgetting to adjust his throttle, forgetting pretty much everything. He pulled the joystick hard to the right, suddenly shoved hard into the side of the simulator, the debris rapidly approaching. He pushed the stick down, pitching hard, his stomach complaining once more as he was yanked against his harness

  The Bayonet shook and a warning beeped in his ear, his goggle overlay showing damage to the reactor.

  “You’re going critical,” Goose said. “Prepare to die. Hahaha.”

  The warnings became more frantic until the moment the reactor detonated, bathing the goggles in a sea of red before it faded to black.

  YOU HAVE DIED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.

  “Cheating bastard,” Joseph said, grabbing the goggles and tearing them off. He looked over at West, still flying peacefully.

  “What was that, Prime?” she asked.

  “It cheated,” he complained. “It added more debris than the missile created.”

  She laughed. “War is like that sometimes, Prime.”

  He smirked back, the comment sinking in deep. He already knew that. He just didn’t expect a flight simulator to throw it at him so soon. It was his fault anyway—for panicking. He should know better.

  Next time, he would be better prepared.

  42

  Grant

  Pioneer. Bridge. 11.12.2052. 1600 hours.

  “Captain Grant,” Lieutenant Wall said over the bridge comm. “My crew is all packed and ready to go at your command, sir.”

  Tyson hesitated a moment before answering. He had spent some time thinking about whether or not to let the crew members transfer to Metro right now, uncertain if he might need them before the problem with the alien object was fully resolved. He didn’t want to pull anyone who went into Metro back out, not only because he didn’t want to renege on the promise the transfer represented, but also because he knew Governor Nash wouldn’t release them back into his service without getting something in return. And Nash had made it abundantly clear there was only one payment he valued.

  “Copy that, Lieutenant Wall,” he said. “Standby.”

  He reached forward and closed the comm channel before looking up at the feeds on the bridge’s primary display. He could see Oslo and his engineers hard at work from here, building the devices that would send the electrical current across the hull, limited only to the area where the alien rock rested. Each device was a meter tall and shaped like an inverted antenna, with a scaffold around it to hold it in an upside down position, bolted to the hull. A battery pack sat on top, providing thirty seconds of power to create the damaging field. There were twelve of them organized in a compartment adjacent to the engineering workshop already, another twelve currently in production.

  Six more hours before Oslo expected to finish the devices. Tyson had plenty of time to escort the workers to Metro, to pass them off to Nash and refocus his energy on ridding Pioneer of her stowaway.

  He tapped on the comm controls, opening a channel to the Guardian module. “This is Captain Grant.”

  “Captain, this is Prime Cross,” Joseph said. “How can I help you, sir?”

  Tyson hadn’t expected Joseph to answer the comm. “Prime, I’m not sure if you’re aware of the transfer protocols. All non-essential personnel were to be transferred to Metro once we cleared Earth’s orbit. Obviously, the complications made that impossible at the time, but those personnel are ready and eager to join their families in the city.”

  “How can I assist you with that, sir?”

  “Protocol also dictates the transfer is made in the presence of the Guardians, who are responsible for ensuring every crew member entering Metro has his military security credentials revoked. Doctor Okoye will complete the deactivation, but you’ll be provided scanners to double-check his work. It’s more of a formality than anything.”

  “Understood, Captain. Do you need all of us?”

  “No. You and two others should suffice. I know you have your own preparations to make. Please head down to the main hangar as soon as feasible. Lieutenant Wall will be waiting for you there.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” Joseph replied.

  “Grant out.”

  Tyson closed the Guardian channel, and opened one to Sickbay. “Doctor Okoye, this is Grant.”