Journey to Kyron 3
The Arrival | Chapter 1 - Part 3
Previously, on Journey to Kyron:
Josinda: “As far as I understand, what’s supposed to happen here is that the ships should flip 180 degrees so that we’re facing back out into space. The engines will keep firing at full power, which will slow our progress enough to come comfortably into orbit, before they power down to hold us there. Is that about right, AiLa?”
Her AI companion spoke calmly. “That is correct.”
“But can you tell me why the bridge crew is in a mild panic?” replied Josinda.
AiLa spoke. “The heightened emotion in the room is a result of the failure of the navigation systems to initiate the deceleration protocol.”
Josinda is asked politely to leave the bridge by her father, Captain Yrwin of the Vessel Antipodes.
Her new friend, Crya is waiting in her room and sees her making a video of the goings-on from the bridge.
“Are you sure you’re not just going for shock value?” asked Crya.
Her gaze drifted over the header where Josinda had punched in the words, “WE’RE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR FIERY DOOM!!”
“I need to send it now, because we’re literally running out of time.”
“Yes. Of course. No, it’s really good Josie,” said Crya.
For some reason, the forced positivity made Josinda feel even more uneasy, but she had made up her mind.
“AiLa,” she said. “Please post—”
The screen suddenly went black and a crackle through their forcons told them that a vessel-wide communication was about to begin.
Vessel Antipodes, the year 2968
They looked at each other and then down at the consoles on their forearms.
Sure enough, both their portable projections as well as the one on Josinda’s desk lit up with a hologram of Io, the captain of the Vessel Africa and current Mission Captain. The sound from all three projections combined perfectly so a single deep, resonating voice echoed throughout the house, emerging from his wisened, dark face, as clear as if he was standing next to them in person.
“Friends,” he said. “I have important news to share with you. No doubt you’ve been waiting on communication to confirm that we’re soon arriving at our destination. And we are. This is absolutely monumental, make no mistake. However…” He took a deep breath and Josinda looked over at Crya. Her pale eyes were fixed on the clean shaven head, awaiting his next words. “I’m obliged to let you know that the deceleration hasn’t kicked in as planned and we are still traveling at full speed.” There was a pause in which Josinda and Crya made eye contact, sure that every member in the million-strong crew’s pulse had just quickened at the same time. Full speed meant around 51,000 kilometers per second. Too fast to direct the ships with more than the coarsest adjustment.
“We have all our top engineers and navigators working with AiLa to fix the problem, but she seems to have lost sight of the destination from the central hub.”
“What does he mean?” said Josinda. “She knows where we are. Don’t you AiLa?” She looked from her forcon to the desk screen and back again.
The AI system remained silent as the announcement continued.
“While in our personal connections to AiLa, she can answer questions about our location in space accurately, the central navigation system is on a separate, failsafe server within the hub.”
The hub was a central cylinder to which the living vessels were all attached; the only one that didn’t rotate on its axis and therefore lacked artificial gravity. Most of the million inhabitants of the mission had only experienced its interior on school trips, but Josinda was lucky, she supposed. She’d been there with her parents quite regularly since their platform won the captaincy.
The hub was AiLa’s heart. Her main neural network was in there, along with backup supplies, redundancy systems, and at the back, the main thrusters.
Io’s words grew soft around the edges the longer he spoke. Josinda stared but the words melded into a blurry mess of “disconnect”, “separation”, “lost contact”, and “unexpected events.”
When he finally signed off, she felt no wiser as to what the plan was to save their lives, and she had never felt more helpless.
She turned to Crya, “What did he say? We’re going to separate from the hub?”
“Not us, some of the other vessels. They’ll go in groups.”
“Can they do that?”
“That’s what he said.” Crya nodded towards the screen above the desk. Io’s face had disappeared and it once again displayed the option to share the video from the bridge Josinda had been editing moments before. “Some kind of emergency contingency thing that was designed into the ship.”
“Huh.” Josinda exhaled. “And they can drive themselves?”
“Josie, you didn’t listen to a thing he said,” laughed Crya, shifting forwards on the bed again and squeezing Josinda’s bare thigh. “It should help slow them down and turn the rest of us with the hub to slingshot … around … the … star.”
Her voice softened and slowed along with the words.
Josinda turned away from the screen and did a double take. Crya’s pale face was moving towards hers, her rounded chin lowered submissively.
“What are you…” Josinda looked back at the screen, then let Crya’s hand creep up to her face and pull it closer.
“Wait!” she said at the last moment. “I should post the video, right?”
Crya stiffened and sat back. “If you like.”
“OK. AiLa, please post the video to my feed.”
A soft flash told them that the post had gone out. They watched it play silently on her desk screen and the views tick over to one, then two.
Josinda tried to look away from the Appreciation bar, but her eyes were invariably drawn in. After five full minutes, the Interest bar next to it clicked from 0 to 1. Leaning forward, she saw that it was from Vane, her best friend.
She took a breath, realizing only then that she’d been holding it.
“Fuck it,” she said. “We’re all dead in a couple of hours anyway.” She reached her face towards Crya’s.
Just before their lips met, a sliding sound stopped them. They looked towards the door, where Mannium was leaning forward through the gap, a thick strand of brown hair falling across one eye.
He pushed it aside and looked from one to the other. “Josinda?” His voice was soft.
“What d’you want?” She felt inexplicably guilty and her voice sounded harsh in her ears.
“Did you hear?” He was watching Crya now, whose eyes were cast down towards the bed underneath her.
“Of course we heard. It was broadcast via forcon.”
“What’s going to happen?”
His pitiful expression jolted her attention away from the screen and the white-haired girl whose lidded eyes were now open wide. “Come here,” she said.
He took a step into the room. At fifteen years younger, Josinda felt a certain motherly responsibility for her little brother.
“Crya, you better go.”
There was a palpable drop in Crya’s posture and she rose from the bed like a depressed zombie.
“But what if…?”
“We’ll be fine,” said Josinda, impatiently. “And if we’re not. Well, we’ll be dead.” She grinned at Mannium, who frowned more deeply and looked at Crya.
The pale, Asiatic woman half turned in the doorway, pulling nervously on her sleeveless t-shirt and staring straight into Josinda’s eyes. “No one’s going to watch that shitty video,” she said.
The door slid closed before Josinda could formulate a reply. “Whatever,” she said finally, then gripped Mannium’s hand and sat him on the desk in front of her. “Don’t you worry.”
He nodded. “You think?” He glanced back at the pale yellow panel. “Why was she here?”
“Crya? You let her in, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, she came to see you.”
“Because…” She knew he’d seen the two of them leave from his graduation, but her voice grew softer with every word. “She wanted to see me…again?” The last word rose like a question mark.
He nodded. “Do you think they’ll pull off this maneuver?”
Josinda raised her eyebrows. “Well, if they don’t, we’ll all be fried potatoes.”
He gave a quick double intake, and she inspected his eyes for tears, then put her arms around his waist and squeezed. “We’ll be OK.”
She looked up at the image of their destination planet on her desk console and sent a silent prayer out into the cosmos that surrounded them on all sides that it was true.