~*~
"Welcome aboard," the Brane Child's artificial intelligence said as they entered through the open airlock.
Sims had no gender, of course, but its voice sounded male. Some of the newer ship management systems had distinct personalities, or at least enough cognitive ability to simulate one, but Sims was an older model. It could take independent action in specific circumstances, within preprogrammed limits, but it had no capacity for imagination or creative thought. The modern versions of shipboard AIs were equally limited, but their creative programming deceptively suggested otherwise. Lisa was content with Sims as it was. Fortunately, no one in management argued to upgrade it, no doubt because it would have been an unnecessary expense.
The docked ship shared the fractionally increased sensation of gravity of the outer docking level. Each level 'down' provided the feeling of a little added weight, but it was barely noticeable between adjacent levels. Lisa thought she could feel it, but it might simply have been the weight of responsibility.
"Sims, seal the airlock and then tell docking control that they may withdraw the boarding bridge."
"Yes, Commander Chang."
His acknowledgement reminded her that from now on and until they returned, she would be 'Commander Chang' rather than 'Lisa' to the ship and crew as a matter of protocol.
"Okay, everyone. Secure your gear in your cubicles and then report to your stations. I want everyone strapped in in five minutes. You know the routine."
As an atmospheric shuttle originally designed to get cargo from and to planetary bodies, it had a layout not unlike airplanes from a century before, with the bridge forward of the rest of the ship. The sleeping cubicles for the crew were immediately behind it. The engineer in Lisa appreciated the efficiency of the layout. This ship was not designed for looks or luxury. Everything the crew might need on a normal flight was nearby along a central corridor, which made getting around, especially in zero g, much easier.
The crew members were all on the bridge and at their stations well before the five minutes passed.
One large main screen, currently black, occupied the forward center spot of the compact flight deck. Brax's pilot station was to the left of it and Lisa's command station was to the right. The stations Sandra and Doc occupied were behind them, each one equipped with screens and control panels applicable to their functions.
Lisa snugged the straps securing her in her seat a bit more tightly than necessary in preparation for launch. She heard the buckles of her crewmate's restraints clicking around her.
"Pilot station set for manual control. Engines show ready," Brax announced.
"Sensors and communications are green," Sandra said.
"Life support is functioning normally," Doc said.
"Okay. Let's do this," Lisa said. "Dock master, this is Commander Chang aboard the Brane Child. We are good to go."
"Copy that, Brane Child," a female voice replied. "Extending docking arms. I'll try not to bump you too much."
"Real human service?" Sandra said with some surprise. "We must be more important than I thought."
"Only the best for those boldly going where no one has gone before," the voice said. "General Spaceworks swore us all to secrecy, but we know about the mission—as much as they think we need to know, anyway. We played rock-paper-scissors to see who would have the honor of seeing you off. I won."
Lisa appreciated the enthusiasm evident in the dock master's voice. It reminded her of how important this was and how many people, even some with no financial or immediate career interests, were eager for it to succeed. With her own doubts about the device and the apparent concern about it from her boss, she had almost lost sight of that. But every new idea, every invention, every discovery came with unknowns. It was why tests like this were necessary, so that the problems could be identified and resolved. Humans would still be huddled in caves shivering in the darkness if some bright and adventurous early ancestor had not experimented with fire. He, or possibly she, may have been burned a few times in the process, but humanity owes its very existence to people who take risks to investigate the unknown. Lisa felt a touch of pride in possibly playing a small role in her species' ongoing climb of progress.
The ship jerked as the telescoping arms began to extend, and then jerked again less than a minute later when they stopped.
"Arm's extended and locked. Prepare for release, Brane Child," the voice from the dock master's station said.
"Copy that," Lisa replied. "Release when ready."
"Coming into position for your planned trajectory. Releasing in three—two—one. Clamps released."
Lisa expected what followed, but her stomach objected nonetheless. The instant weightlessness as the ship flung away on a tangent from the point of release made it feel like they were falling. No matter how tightly you strapped yourself in, it was still unpleasant.
"Good luck, Brane Child," the dock master said. "See you when you get back."
"Ugh," Sandra half sighed and half burped. "I will never get used to that."
"I don't think anyone ever does," Lisa agreed, fighting her own nausea.
"You know, people say that, but unless you count the rush, it's never bothered me," Brax said from his pilot's station.
Lisa turned her head slowly as she tried to adjust to weightlessness and glared at him. His attention remained focused on the control panel in front of him, so he did not notice.
"Relative speed three one five kph," he said. "We're on course."
He tapped the controls. Faint hissing sounds conveyed through the hull accompanied a slight sense of motion.
"Adjusting orientation to match direction. Prepare for acceleration burn."
A few minutes later, the vibration through the ship caused by the main engines firing and a feeling of being gently pressed into her seat ended.
"ETA to skip point two point two five hours," Brax said.
"You all did quite well," Doc told them. "Your heart rates are already returning to normal."
"Maybe, but I think I left my stomach back on the station," Sandra said.
Lisa tried to settle hers through sheer force of will as the ship coasted toward the coordinates in empty space where they would conduct their test of the Brane Skip device. Her efforts were only partially successful. A distraction might help.
"We may as well see where we're going," she said. "Sims, main screen, forward view."
The black screen changed to a black screen sprinkled with bright dots of light. They all stared at it.
"Not a big difference, is there?" Sandra said after a few moments.
"Space has many interesting things to see, I'm sure, but they do seem to be inconveniently far apart," Doc said.
"Well, we're still on our way to the game," Brax said. "The real adventure begins when we press the magic button."
"This isn't a game," Lisa said with annoyance. She let the 'magic button' comment slide because she felt much the same way about it.
"Oh, everything is a kind of game, metaphorically speaking," Brax said. "There are goals and players and tactics and such. I mean, games are just simplified bits of reality, aren't they? The same goes for stories."
"That doesn't mean that reality is a game."
He shrugged. "All the world's a stage, though, right?"
An insightful fellow at times, Shakespeare," Doc said. "And as another wise man once said, 'We're all stories in the end.'"
"Buddha?" Sandra guessed.
"Doctor Who, I believe. Actually, just 'the Doctor.' 'Who' was not part of his name. But Brax has a point. You can learn a lot about the real world from stories and games."
"Role-playing games especially," Brax said. "They're my favorite. When I was in college, I'd play them in the dorm with a bunch of friends. Not the computer games; the original ones with paper and dice and stuff."
"You weren't one of those weirdoes who would dress up like an elf or a wizard, were you?" Sandra said.
Lisa tried to picture Brax dressed
as an elf. It didn't work. He might make a respectable barbarian hero, though.
Brax laughed. "No, nothing like that. Well, when my friend Rob was the dungeon master, he sometimes wore a pointy hat with "Wizzard" written on it in glitter, but it was just kind of a joke."
Lisa had played games as a child, of course, and she had read stories and watched videos, as most children will do, but as she grew older, there seemed to be no time for games, and her reading and other spare time preferences had turned almost exclusively to nonfiction.
This concerned her parents because they feared she was robbing herself of her childhood. In one of her rare arguments with them, she countered that some people simply grew up too late. But despite how peculiar her childhood may have been, she believed she had benefitted from being forced to wake up and smell the coffee as young as she had. Reality had become far more interesting to her than the alternatives.
"So, what do you think you can learn from games?" Lisa said.
The subject did not interest her much, but the conversation took her mind off the still uncomfortable sensation of endless falling and, more importantly, her lingering nervousness about the mission ahead.
"Games and simulations have long been important learning tools," Doc said. "They can teach people to assess situations rationally, identify potential problems, compare options, determine courses of action, and, of course the importance of preparation and logistics."
"Well, yeah," Brax said. "The dungeon master had to do all of that, and if you were playing a thief or a magic user, that stuff was important, but I usually just played a fighter."
Despite how this made him sound, Lisa knew he was far from stupid. He simply preferred things to be straightforward and uncomplicated.
"There is still an element of strategy and tactics in the role of a fighter," Doc said. "You must assess both your abilities and those of your opponent in order to decide what to do. As Sun Tzu said in The Art of War, 'Know thy self, know thy enemy.'"
"I suppose. I mean, if you were facing a bunch of kobolds or goblins, you knew you could pretty much just go in and bash them, but you had to think twice about facing a dragon."
"I was never much of a fantasy fan," Lisa said, only half paying attention.
"'Fantasy is an exercise bicycle for the mind,'" Doc quoted. "'It might not take you anywhere, but it tones up the muscles that can.' That was Terry Pratchett."
"What's with you and the quotes today, Doc?" Sandra asked.
His dark brows rose in surprise. "You know, I'm not sure. They just keep coming to mind."
"Well, cut it out. It's getting annoying."
He smiled. "But it is germane to the topic at hand. Fantasy stories help free the mind of preconceptions. It allows people to be more open to alternatives."
"Maybe," Lisa admitted. "But you have to admit that a lot of those stories are just plain stupid. What about the ones that have people zapping bad guys by mumbling bits of mock-Latin and pointing wands?"
"The point, I think, is to see the truth behind the fiction. Yes, magic wands and spells are absurd, but many such stories are actually about things like friendship, trust, perseverance, and other ineffable things that, although intangible, have a certain truth nonetheless. The fantastic settings and magical spells are there to turn what is true and important into a story that is interesting and enjoyable. I don't think anyone believes the fantasy parts are real…." He paused, perhaps reflecting on what Lisa felt was abundant evidence to the contrary. "Well, not many people."
"I did," Brax said. "When I was a kid, I used to go out in our backyard and look through the bushes for portals to other worlds, dragon eggs, whatever. I once tried to signal flying saucers with a laser pointer."
"Any luck?" Sandra asked, barely suppressing a chuckle.
"I found a gold ring once, but it turned out to be plastic."
"I hear what you're saying, Doc," Lisa said. "All good fiction does something like that, I think. But there is only so much disbelief I can suspend for the sake of a story. I'm okay with science fiction if it's not too implausible, but I have a lower tolerance for fantasy. After a point, it just becomes silly."
She did not doubt that important ideas could be conveyed through fiction, but those same ideas could be articulated more clearly in a well-written work of history or philosophy, and those didn't come with all the nonsense. Most didn't, in any case.
"The ones with zombies used to scare me when I was little," Sandra said. "I think I got over it when my great grandmother died and I realized dead was dead. I was eight at the time. After that, they just seemed, well, like you said, silly."
"Approaching designated coordinates," Brax said. "Engaging braking thrusters. We should be in position in fifteen minutes."
The rockets whispered in response. Lisa could barely feel the deceleration.
"Let's start with a full sensor scan," she said. "Is there anything odd out there, Sandra?"
"Checking now." The communications officer paused as the data came in. "No anomalous readings. Just empty space."
"We're now at dead stop relative to the station," Brax announced.
"Sandra, notify Fritz that we've arrived and are ready to begin the test," Lisa said.
Sandra tapped the controls at her station, paused, and tapped again. "Message sent and acknowledged."
Lisa took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this. I'm activating the BS system."
"I still think that's a stupid name," Sandra said.
"Someone at corporate probably thought it was funny," Brax suggested.
"They didn't have to trust their lives to it in an antique cargo boat. I know I'm not laughing."
"Oh, it's not that bad. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? The mice made it."
The main view screen flickered and the corporate logo for General Spaceworks replaced the star field. The menu that appeared next presented three options: START, TEST, and ABORT.
Lisa selected START. The word INITIALIZING appeared. The device ran separately from everything else on the ship. From this point, there were no user options. Either it would work or it wouldn't.
They waited.
"When you get into the game or the story or whatever, it almost feels real," Brax said, picking up the conversation where it had left off. "That's how you can tell it's a good one. The opposite is kind of true, too. I've noticed that when I'm doing something difficult and imagine it's a story, I don't worry about it as much, and it makes it easier."
"That might be a good method to reduce stress," Doc said.
"Provided you don't get confused about what's real and what's not," Lisa said. She had always maintained a clear distinction between what was real and what wasn't. She felt that some people often confused the two.
"You should try them," Brax said. "Role-playing games, I mean. They're a lot of fun. You would make a great elf."
"I am NOT an elf!" she said.
Lisa had been called 'elfish' before because she was short, slim, and looked younger than she was, and although she assumed it was always meant as a compliment, she didn't like it.
The display screen changed to BRANE SCANNING. A status bar below it ostensibly conveyed its progress.
"I wonder if imagining this is a story will work for me," Sandra said. "I wasn't nervous before, but I am now. The gray haze thing, you know."
Lisa felt uncomfortable about it too, but did not say anything. As commander of the mission, she should at least pretend to be confident in its success.
The words DETERMINING IMPLIED GRAVITY appeared with another status bar.
"Fear of the unknown is natural," Doc said. "Humanity has faced a lot of unknowns in its history, and only when people faced them and turned them into things that are known could they move on. Think of yourself as one of those brave pioneers."
DRAWING INFERENCES, the screen told them. Lisa had no idea what that meant.
"Right now, I'd rather think of myself home on Earth, lying on a beach with a handsome young cabana bo
y bringing me frosty drinks with paper umbrellas in them," Sandra said.
ASSUMING BRANE EXISTENCE. Assuming? Lisa did not like what that word implied.
"You know, this almost feels like a story," Brax said. "Venturing into the unknown and all."
"Don't get carried away with it," Sandra said. "I don't want to be in one of those action-packed pulp things with lots of explosions and death-defying escapes."
PREPARING TO JUMP TO CONCLUSION POINT.
"Yeah," Lisa agreed. "No explosions, Brax."
He laughed. "I'll do my best. How about a dragon or two?"
PRESS ENTER TO SKIP.
"Ready, Commander?" Brax said.
It wasn't as if they had much choice. "Punch it," she said.
"Adventure, here we come!" the pilot said as he pressed the button.
~Chapter 3~