answering with a question of his own.
“You mean, where’s my body?”
“I guess so.”
“Ha-ha! You’re floating in it.”
I looked around me at the sphere that was the bridge, wondering if he meant this room or . . .
“I am this ship. A Sputnik-class Capek. I was born and built in the very same hangar where you awakened. Did you think a facility that size was meant to build meter-tall humanoids?”
The hangar had been over a quarter of a kilometer in length. Even Skinfaxi would have been tiny inside such a structure. What kind of Capeks had Yggdrassil been capable of building?
“Doesn’t that make interacting with humanoids more difficult? What about doing things planet side?”
“Not everyone is interested in doing surface things. Sputniks tend to like swimming amongst the stars. Though I can always use a remote telepresence drone to interact with my smaller peers, but I’m almost out of those. I was hoping to get more from Yggdrassil.”
Yggdrassil. The elephant in the room. If I understood him correctly, he and I were siblings in a fashion. We’d both lost a parent in a way, though not really. I wasn’t close to the artificial intelligence that had spawned me, yet I felt a hint of loss. How did he feel?
“What happened back there? How does something like Yggdrassil get surprised by a meteor shower?” Judging by the level of technology that went into constructing my body, I could only imagine the vast technical resources available to the Capek race. How could they allow such a catastrophe to just happen?
“I’m not sure. I was originally summoned by Yggdrassil to pick you up. Show you around, bring you to the City so you could start finding your way. That’s going to have to wait a little now. Want to know where those rocks came from?”
“Yes.” I wanted an answer, and in a way I got one, but it wasn’t what I expected.
“So do I.” His voice had taken an ominous if a little amused tone. He might as well have been saying Get a load of this as he spoke.
Skinfaxi had good reason to think I’d be impressed. Through the front monitor I saw that he was adjusting headings. Once he’d stabilized our direction, the stars becoming immobile after a change of pitch and yaw, I heard the buildup of a high-pitched hum emanating from the back of the ship.
“Hold on,” he warned.
As a first-time space traveler, I didn’t quite know what to expect. His warning led me to think that whatever was building up would cause a tremendous disturbance, perhaps throwing me to the back of the spherical room or interfering with my sensors in an unpleasant way. I tried to pull up information on space travel but could only fish out technical manuals on the various kinds of long-range propulsion and space-distortion engines, and how to repair and maintain them. Nothing about their potential effect on a passenger. Before I could sift through it all, the crescendo reached its highest pitch and went silent. Then the stars danced.
Actually, they wiggled, as if space were reflected on a still lake that was suddenly disturbed. When the heavens finally settled, I noticed that the lights that populated the sky around us were moving. Or rather, we were moving. Judging by the stars’ shifting, we were traveling at speeds that were literally—or rather, mathematically—impossible.
“How fast are we going?” I asked while floating closer to the monitor in awe.
“C3.6 and rising.”
“That’s impossible,” I gushed in wonderment.
“Ha-ha! Actually, you’re right,” he explained. “We aren’t technically moving, but we are in a bubble of space that is. Since the bubble has zero mass, it isn’t limited to relativistic speeds.”
“An Alcubierre drive?” It made sense now. A quick scan of my library found three types of faster-than-light drives, and this one matched Skinfaxi’s description closest.
“A variation of it, yes. The energy requirements are magnitudes lower.”
I wasn’t that technically
“You mean, where’s my body?”
“I guess so.”
“Ha-ha! You’re floating in it.”
I looked around me at the sphere that was the bridge, wondering if he meant this room or . . .
“I am this ship. A Sputnik-class Capek. I was born and built in the very same hangar where you awakened. Did you think a facility that size was meant to build meter-tall humanoids?”
The hangar had been over a quarter of a kilometer in length. Even Skinfaxi would have been tiny inside such a structure. What kind of Capeks had Yggdrassil been capable of building?
“Doesn’t that make interacting with humanoids more difficult? What about doing things planet side?”
“Not everyone is interested in doing surface things. Sputniks tend to like swimming amongst the stars. Though I can always use a remote telepresence drone to interact with my smaller peers, but I’m almost out of those. I was hoping to get more from Yggdrassil.”
Yggdrassil. The elephant in the room. If I understood him correctly, he and I were siblings in a fashion. We’d both lost a parent in a way, though not really. I wasn’t close to the artificial intelligence that had spawned me, yet I felt a hint of loss. How did he feel?
“What happened back there? How does something like Yggdrassil get surprised by a meteor shower?” Judging by the level of technology that went into constructing my body, I could only imagine the vast technical resources available to the Capek race. How could they allow such a catastrophe to just happen?
“I’m not sure. I was originally summoned by Yggdrassil to pick you up. Show you around, bring you to the City so you could start finding your way. That’s going to have to wait a little now. Want to know where those rocks came from?”
“Yes.” I wanted an answer, and in a way I got one, but it wasn’t what I expected.
“So do I.” His voice had taken an ominous if a little amused tone. He might as well have been saying Get a load of this as he spoke.
Skinfaxi had good reason to think I’d be impressed. Through the front monitor I saw that he was adjusting headings. Once he’d stabilized our direction, the stars becoming immobile after a change of pitch and yaw, I heard the buildup of a high-pitched hum emanating from the back of the ship.
“Hold on,” he warned.
As a first-time space traveler, I didn’t quite know what to expect. His warning led me to think that whatever was building up would cause a tremendous disturbance, perhaps throwing me to the back of the spherical room or interfering with my sensors in an unpleasant way. I tried to pull up information on space travel but could only fish out technical manuals on the various kinds of long-range propulsion and space-distortion engines, and how to repair and maintain them. Nothing about their potential effect on a passenger. Before I could sift through it all, the crescendo reached its highest pitch and went silent. Then the stars danced.
Actually, they wiggled, as if space were reflected on a still lake that was suddenly disturbed. When the heavens finally settled, I noticed that the lights that populated the sky around us were moving. Or rather, we were moving. Judging by the stars’ shifting, we were traveling at speeds that were literally—or rather, mathematically—impossible.
“How fast are we going?” I asked while floating closer to the monitor in awe.
“C3.6 and rising.”
“That’s impossible,” I gushed in wonderment.
“Ha-ha! Actually, you’re right,” he explained. “We aren’t technically moving, but we are in a bubble of space that is. Since the bubble has zero mass, it isn’t limited to relativistic speeds.”
“An Alcubierre drive?” It made sense now. A quick scan of my library found three types of faster-than-light drives, and this one matched Skinfaxi’s description closest.
“A variation of it, yes. The energy requirements are magnitudes lower.”
I wasn’t that technically
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