She, of course, put in another dig about my manhood. Kymm, like GiS, couldn’t give me something without taking something back. It was part of her nature and part of our rivalry. I guess it was just one of those life tradeoffs.
After a few minutes, we reached the shuttle. It was about the size of the old-fashioned school bus you see in museums. In fact, some people even called them “space buses” as they had the same rounded look to them. I always thought they looked like a cross between a speed boat and a bus with short rounded wings. They were meant to be functional, not pretty. Still, I found the look pleasing in an aerodynamic sort of way. (I guess on some level I’m as geeky as Elvin.) There was a ramp that led from the floor to the landing pad. I walked up the ramp to the shuttle door.
I gave the shuttle, my shuttle, a pat on the side.
“You do know it is only a machine,” Kymm called as she walked by toward her shuttle.
“Yep, I know,” I said. “Still, it doesn’t matter.”
She grinned.
I opened the door and walked in. My squad followed. They were much more business-like, much less excited than I was. The back part of the shuttle was open, reserved for cargo or anything else we needed to carry. It had pop-up seats that were usually stored under the floor. If you needed them, they were available with the push of a button.
The navigator’s control console was near the front on the left side of the shuttle. The engineer’s control console and panel were on the front right side. The walls next to each console were lined with information screens. They could show anything from the status of the ship’s engines to any view of what was outside from any angle. Once, much to GiS’s chagrin, Elvin even programmed them so they would give me highlights of the Mets’ game.
Elvin and Zenna quickly moved to their seats. They started taking readings.
The pilot’s and squad commander’s seats were located next to each other, near the front of the shuttle. This gave a good clear view of the shuttle’s front window and the panoramic view screens located above and below the window. I moved slowly toward my seat. I wanted to savor the moment.
The seats were big and comfy and could swivel 360 degrees, and tilt 180 degrees. You can actually spin them so fast you can make yourself barf. (Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.) Both seats had control panels on the left and right arms. It didn’t matter which one you used. Both panels were fully programmable. The arms of the chair were also lined with control buttons, just in the case the computer went down and you had to do things the old-fashioned way and press a button.
“Engines look a-okay,” Zenna said.
“We are cleared for near hyper-speed. Searcher 0.5 is currently in orbit 1000 kilometers above Mars. I’ve laid in a course,” Elvin said. “The computer had one laid out, but mine actually saves us seven tics. I estimate the flight to be six minutes and twelve tics.”
“Could you be more exact?” I asked, jokingly.
“I could, but it would be wasted on you,” Elvin said, seriously.
I positioned myself a little better into the pilot’s seat. It just felt right. “I’m locked and loaded,” I said.
“Actually we only have tractor beams,” SC-711 corrected from the ship’s intercom.
“Figure of speech there, SC,” I said.
“Oh, I knew that,” SC-711 said.
GiS gave me “the look.” “Don’t give the computer a hard time,” he said.
I nodded my agreement. This was not the time to pick an argument.
“We are cleared for departure,” SC-711 said.
“We?” I asked.
“I will be functioning as your ship’s computer interface for this mission,” SC-711 said.
“I’m honored,” I said.
“As well you should be.”
The red lights in the bay area started to flash. A warning horn sounded. (This whole place was big on lights and sirens.) These meant the big bay doors were going to open in thirty seconds. It was time for all
After a few minutes, we reached the shuttle. It was about the size of the old-fashioned school bus you see in museums. In fact, some people even called them “space buses” as they had the same rounded look to them. I always thought they looked like a cross between a speed boat and a bus with short rounded wings. They were meant to be functional, not pretty. Still, I found the look pleasing in an aerodynamic sort of way. (I guess on some level I’m as geeky as Elvin.) There was a ramp that led from the floor to the landing pad. I walked up the ramp to the shuttle door.
I gave the shuttle, my shuttle, a pat on the side.
“You do know it is only a machine,” Kymm called as she walked by toward her shuttle.
“Yep, I know,” I said. “Still, it doesn’t matter.”
She grinned.
I opened the door and walked in. My squad followed. They were much more business-like, much less excited than I was. The back part of the shuttle was open, reserved for cargo or anything else we needed to carry. It had pop-up seats that were usually stored under the floor. If you needed them, they were available with the push of a button.
The navigator’s control console was near the front on the left side of the shuttle. The engineer’s control console and panel were on the front right side. The walls next to each console were lined with information screens. They could show anything from the status of the ship’s engines to any view of what was outside from any angle. Once, much to GiS’s chagrin, Elvin even programmed them so they would give me highlights of the Mets’ game.
Elvin and Zenna quickly moved to their seats. They started taking readings.
The pilot’s and squad commander’s seats were located next to each other, near the front of the shuttle. This gave a good clear view of the shuttle’s front window and the panoramic view screens located above and below the window. I moved slowly toward my seat. I wanted to savor the moment.
The seats were big and comfy and could swivel 360 degrees, and tilt 180 degrees. You can actually spin them so fast you can make yourself barf. (Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.) Both seats had control panels on the left and right arms. It didn’t matter which one you used. Both panels were fully programmable. The arms of the chair were also lined with control buttons, just in the case the computer went down and you had to do things the old-fashioned way and press a button.
“Engines look a-okay,” Zenna said.
“We are cleared for near hyper-speed. Searcher 0.5 is currently in orbit 1000 kilometers above Mars. I’ve laid in a course,” Elvin said. “The computer had one laid out, but mine actually saves us seven tics. I estimate the flight to be six minutes and twelve tics.”
“Could you be more exact?” I asked, jokingly.
“I could, but it would be wasted on you,” Elvin said, seriously.
I positioned myself a little better into the pilot’s seat. It just felt right. “I’m locked and loaded,” I said.
“Actually we only have tractor beams,” SC-711 corrected from the ship’s intercom.
“Figure of speech there, SC,” I said.
“Oh, I knew that,” SC-711 said.
GiS gave me “the look.” “Don’t give the computer a hard time,” he said.
I nodded my agreement. This was not the time to pick an argument.
“We are cleared for departure,” SC-711 said.
“We?” I asked.
“I will be functioning as your ship’s computer interface for this mission,” SC-711 said.
“I’m honored,” I said.
“As well you should be.”
The red lights in the bay area started to flash. A warning horn sounded. (This whole place was big on lights and sirens.) These meant the big bay doors were going to open in thirty seconds. It was time for all
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