Sunreach (Skyward Flight: Novella 1)

When Rig ran an experiment, he did not mess around.

It took us most of the evening to design something up to his standards, even though the experiment itself was only comprised of a couple of boxes set up across the room from each other.

The next morning, we were ready to start gathering data. We’d sorted the slugs, isolating the red and black ones, since we weren’t ready to deal with them yet. Our new idea was that in the absence of coordinates, we could teach the slugs to hyperjump to a familiar place on command. It wouldn’t immediately help us to reach Cuna, since the slugs had never been to wherever Cuna was, but Rig said that big breakthroughs had to be broken down into smaller steps. Getting the slugs to do anything without scaring them would be one important piece. Then, if we could learn how to give them coordinates, we’d have another means to motivate them to go.

If the experiment worked, of course.

“Okay,” Rig said. “I think we’re ready for phase one.”

I pulled Chubs out of the crate. We’d kept all the slugs in the closed box while we set up the experiment, so they couldn’t watch us. I wasn’t sure how much they would pay attention anyway, but Rig insisted that could invalidate the results.

I opened one of the boxes, showing Chubs a scoop of caviar sitting in a dish on the bottom. “Home,” I told him.

“Home!” Chubs trilled.

I let him eat the caviar, then put another small scoop into the dish where he could see it before finally closing the door on the box. Then I took Chubs across the room and put him into another box facing away from the one with the caviar. This box was made out of wood and had a clear front so we could observe him inside and see when he left. Chubs wouldn’t be able to reach the caviar unless he decided to hyperjump.

Chubs crawled around the box, his face crinkling at me through the clear plastic.

“He’s not doing anything,” I said.

Rig stood over me with a clipboard, writing notes. I didn’t know what he was writing, because nothing was happening.

“Still nothing,” I said.

“This is how science works,” Rig said. “Nothing, nothing, nothing. Maybe something! Oh, no, that was also nothing.”

“I don’t know how you stand it,” I said.

“Are you kidding? It’s fascinating.”

“Really? Nothing is fascinating?”

“Sometimes,” Rig said. “Depends on the nothing, I guess. Try giving him the keyword now.”

I pressed my finger to the plastic, getting Chubs’s attention. “Home,” I said to him.

He didn’t move.

“Home,” I said again. “Go home and get the caviar, would you? You’re making me look like an idiot.”

“Home,” Chubs trilled, his voice muted by the plastic. “Home, home.”

“Try looking away,” Rig suggested. “They don’t seem to like to hyperjump while we’re watching.”

“Okay, fine,” I said, turning around. “I’m not watching.”

A moment later, a slug nudged my ankle. There was Chubs, looking up at me expectantly from the floor.

“I think he sees you as the source of caviar, FM,” Rig said.

“FM!” Chubs said.

“Not me,” I said, carrying Chubs over and giving him a second look inside the home box. Then I brought him back to the observation box and shut him behind the transparent door.

“Home,” I said, and I turned around.

Rig studied his clipboard. When I glanced back at the observation box, Chubs was gone. I found him in the “home” location, chowing down on the caviar.

“Hey!” I said. “Good job! Home.”

“Home!” the slug trilled happily.

“Okay,” Rig said. “So he went to find the food because he knew where it was. Now see if you can get him to do it without seeing the food first.”

I waited for Chubs to finish his caviar, and then took him back to the observation box and put him inside. “Home,” I said to him.

“Home,” he replied.

And then he disappeared and reappeared in the “home” box, sniffing around for caviar.

“Hey, it worked,” I said. I pulled out my now almost empty tin of caviar and gave a scoop to Chubs.

“Okay,” Rig said. “Now try it with another slug.”

When I turned around, Drape had already climbed onto Rig’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek.

“Looks like Drape volunteered to join the experiment.” I scooped Drape up off Rig’s shoulders. Standing this close to him made my skin tingle, and I wasn’t alone; when Rig blushed, even the back of his neck turned red.

Then the door opened abruptly, and we jumped apart.

Jorgen stood in the doorway, holding Gill and looking at us curiously. “Hey,” he said. “Everything okay in here?”

“Fine!” Rig said, too loudly.

“Fine!” Gill said from his perch in the crook of Jorgen’s arm.

“Don’t start that again,” I said to Gill, taking him from Jorgen. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re just in time to participate in our experiment.”

“I don’t think I have time for that,” Jorgen said.

I shrugged. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Jorgen looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but at least he didn’t comment on how close Rig and I had been standing when he’d walked in.

“I was actually coming to tell you two that they’re almost ready to try using the communicator to reach Cuna,” Jorgen said. “They’re going to use the holoprojector to power the communicator, but Cobb still wants all of us present, since we’ve been working with the slugs. Thadwick wants Rig to consult with him on the communicator, and then FM and I are supposed to report after that.”

“Sure,” Rig said. “FM can show you what we’ve been working on.” He hurried out of the room more quickly than normal. I hoped he was looking to get away from Jorgen and not me.

Probably it wasn’t me.

Jorgen cocked an eyebrow at me. “Working? Is that what you were doing in here?”

“Yes, actually,” I said. “We designed an experiment.”

“Is that what they’re calling it now.”

“Shut your mouth,” I told him.

Jorgen smirked at me.

“Would you like me to mock you about Spensa now?” I asked. “Because if that’s fair game, let me just say—”

“Forget I said anything,” Jorgen said quickly. “Show me this experiment.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” I handed Jorgen Rig’s clipboard, though he didn’t look anywhere near as cute carrying it. “You take notes.”

Jorgen squinted at Rig’s notes while I used the last of my caviar running both Drape and Gill through the experiment. Drape didn’t teleport into the box no matter how many times I showed her the caviar, but Gill did so right away, trilling “home” happily at me.

“Huh,” Jorgen said. “Maybe some of them are more motivated by food than others?”

“Probably,” I said. “But even Chubs took a while to follow the command. I don’t know if this will be a reliable way to get them to hyperjump or not, though they do seem to be able to do it over and over again without having to wait for us to scare them.”

Jorgen consulted his watch. “We’re due up at Command,” he said. “I see what you’re doing here FM, but I don’t know that it’s any better than what we have.”

“Not yet,” I said. “Rig says science takes time to yield results.”

“That’s my point,” Jorgen said.

He didn’t have to elaborate. We both knew time was one thing we didn’t have.

The command center was crowded with members of the command staff, the engineers, and a few more people from Jeshua Weight’s retinue sent by the National Assembly. Jorgen shouldered through to stand behind his mother, and I shadowed him, feeling out of place. I felt better when Rig joined us, coming over from a discussion with several of the other engineers.

“Fine is loaded in the communicator,” Rig said. “And we’ve got the holoprojector hooked up. Cobb has recorded a message and we’ve set up the data in the communicator to align with the metadata from Cuna’s first transmission. It’s all very theoretical and I wish we’d had more time to test it, but it should probably work.”

“Do you ever get used to it?” I asked. “Always having your projects thrown into service before you feel comfortable with the amount of testing you’ve done?”

Rig wiped his palms on his jumpsuit. “I definitely haven’t gotten there yet.”

“All right, quiet now,” Cobb said from his place at the front of the room. “We’re going to send the message.” He nodded to Ziming, who pressed a button on a control panel, and then Cobb spoke into his headset. “This is Admiral Cobb, human from the planet Detritus. Minister Cuna, please confirm receipt.”

Ziming pressed another button. “Did it work?” Cobb asked.

“I think so,” Ziming said. “It sent, but I don’t know if it was—”

“Admiral Cobb, human of Detritus,” a voice said over the loudspeaker—the same eerie, even voice we’d heard in the first message. “I confirm receipt. Thank you for your response.”

Cobb nodded, and Ziming resumed the transmission. “Minister Cuna. We would like to meet, but are unable to discern your location. Our cytonic is untrained, and our hyperdrives primitive. Any assistance you can offer to help us reach you would be welcomed. Please advise.”

“I am afraid time is running short,” Cuna responded. “The Superiority has sent forces to bombard my location, and while our minimal artillery has kept them at bay, we expect them to send for reinforcements at any moment.”

“How many ships?” Cobb said over the communicator.

There was a pause. “Twenty fighters. We hear over the datanet that the Superiority forces are spread thin. I fear they will soon mobilize on your planet.”

“They already have,” Cobb said. “We’re holding them off for the moment.”

“Twenty ships,” Jorgen muttered. “We can handle that. If we can get there.”

“I am routing coordinates through my hypercomm,” Cuna said. “Please interface your cytonic with your communicator to receive coordinates.”

“Interface our cytonic?” Jeshua said. “What in the North Star’s light does that mean?”

Most of the room looked at Jorgen, who stuttered. If there was one thing Jorgen hated, it was not having an answer.

“Maybe he needs to interact with the taynix,” I said. “The one we used to send the message.”

“Fine,” Rig said. “He’s in the communicator in Charlie Sector.”

“You shouldn’t have to touch Fine, right?” I asked Jorgen. “You could scare the slugs at a distance, so you should be able to—”

“Hold on,” Jorgen said, closing his eyes. “I’m working on it.”

“You do that,” Cobb said, pulling the microphone closer. “This is Admiral Cobb,” he said. “We’re working on interfacing our cytonic now.”

“Well?” I asked Jorgen quietly.

“I’m trying,” Jorgen said. “Maybe if I—” Jorgen jerked back like he’d been slapped in the face. “I’ve got it. Admiral, I’ve got the coordinates. I know where they are. Stars, that’s painful.” He rubbed his temples. His mother watched him with concern.

“We have your position,” Cobb said. “We’re going to send a flight to defend you. Jorgen, take Skyward Flight and—”

“We should contact the National Assembly,” Jeshua said. “Let them make a decision before we send away one of our cytonics. We don’t know if they’ll be able to return.”

Cobb looked at Jorgen.

“That’s true, sir,” Jorgen said. “I’m not sure I can find Detritus again on my own. The slugs might be able to return instinctively from that far of a distance, but I can’t be sure. But these aliens, they understand the hyperdrives better than we do. They might be able to teach us how.”

Cobb turned to Jeshua. “You want to be able to communicate with our enemies. This is the only alien force that has ever offered to talk with us. We have to take this chance.”

“I agree with you,” Jeshua said. “But it’s up to the National Assembly to decide—”

“Sir,” Jorgen said. “The coordinates are fading. It’s slow, so we have a little bit of time, but it’s like it was with Spensa. I don’t know how to hang on to it.”

“Take your flight,” Cobb said to Jorgen. “Go now.”

Jeshua scowled at him.

Jorgen hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, and I followed Jorgen out of the command center. Together we ran for the landing bay.