Read Online The Breath of Suspension by Alexander Jablokov - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexander Jablokov
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me.
I here was a gush of air. Aya twisted and then drifted down another passageway, maneuvering deftly with her air jets, which were linked directly into her brain. ‘They were products of her friends in Utah, one-of-a-kind devices. Here in space she was at home and I was the cripple, pulling myself painfully along.
A mass shifted somewhere and the reaction drive rumbled. I knew that Aya was monitoring it, but I still flipped up a control panel and checked the flow diagrams. No need for us to explode in a hydrogen fireball simply because Aya was in some sort of mystic trance. Our fusion drive was an inefficient, clumsy piece of technology. Controlling it took sophisticated processing and constant monitoring. Even so, the hungry flames gradually eroded the inside of their containment vessel. At some point I would have to climb into a suit and then into the engine for repairs. I shoved the thought down. It terrified me.
An unexpected surge of acceleration made me drift against a wall. Aya was changing direction. Without consulting me, of course. I arrowed down the corridor and into the huge sphere that served as our main life-system. The air here was lush with the smell of plants. Aya floated in the center.
I could check some of what was being fed into her brain. Along with the visual information from the forward image telescopes, she received scintillation data, gamma-ray and X-ray imaging, gravitation anomaly detection. A magnetic monopole would have been instantly detectable to her. As a bright flash of light, the sound of a saxophone, the smell of burning lavender? I had no idea. Just as I had no idea what other things were being poured into her brain from the mysterious devices that filled our spaceship. I’d poked around, trying to figure out what all of them were, but I was not technically trained, and could not risk breaking any of them. For all I knew they sensed emanations from the Godhead and recorded the vibrations of the music of the spheres.
“Aya. What’s going on? Where are we going?”
Her eyes drifted across me, but it took a long time for them to see me. She blinked. Did she see me as some flaw in her imaging equipment, something to be corrected by replacing a circuit module?
“What is it, Vikram?” Her voice was weary.
“Oh, nothing. You changed course just now. I wondered if you had a reason for it or if it was just whim.” I sounded whiny even to myself.
“I see where we are going. The Ancient Ones have shown me the way. Don’t worry, Vikram. We will be there soon.”
Those Ancient Ones again. Aya had never explained to me who they were supposed to be or what they had to do with her. As we traveled they became more prominent in her mind. I sometimes think they canonized a polytheist.
One night I awoke from a nightmare of being smothered by rotting bodies. Dig as I might, I couldn’t get out from under them. Waking did not help me breathe. I panted. The air in the sleeping area was foul with ketones. Something was wrong with the life-system.
I undipped myself from my sleeping harness. The lights came on. The air was clear. Had it been part of the dream? I took a deep breath and almost choked. The air was growing poisonous. No alarms had sounded, though they were programmed to scream at the slightest imbalance in the air mixture. I drifted to a diagnostic board. It blandly told me that everything was fine, that we had five nines of performance on everything. I cursed it as a lying bastard, a snare, and a delusion. I twisted in the air and sent my way down to the main life-system. Panels drifted open at my command. I looked in—and felt sick. The thing was hopelessly fouled. It must have been malfunctioning for weeks. Bacteria and fungus clogged the tubes. Algal growth had obscured much of the light focused and pumped in from the sun. Inherent circuit diagnostics showed that half the circuitry was dead. But the system diagnostics still told me everything was fine. So much for the
I here was a gush of air. Aya twisted and then drifted down another passageway, maneuvering deftly with her air jets, which were linked directly into her brain. ‘They were products of her friends in Utah, one-of-a-kind devices. Here in space she was at home and I was the cripple, pulling myself painfully along.
A mass shifted somewhere and the reaction drive rumbled. I knew that Aya was monitoring it, but I still flipped up a control panel and checked the flow diagrams. No need for us to explode in a hydrogen fireball simply because Aya was in some sort of mystic trance. Our fusion drive was an inefficient, clumsy piece of technology. Controlling it took sophisticated processing and constant monitoring. Even so, the hungry flames gradually eroded the inside of their containment vessel. At some point I would have to climb into a suit and then into the engine for repairs. I shoved the thought down. It terrified me.
An unexpected surge of acceleration made me drift against a wall. Aya was changing direction. Without consulting me, of course. I arrowed down the corridor and into the huge sphere that served as our main life-system. The air here was lush with the smell of plants. Aya floated in the center.
I could check some of what was being fed into her brain. Along with the visual information from the forward image telescopes, she received scintillation data, gamma-ray and X-ray imaging, gravitation anomaly detection. A magnetic monopole would have been instantly detectable to her. As a bright flash of light, the sound of a saxophone, the smell of burning lavender? I had no idea. Just as I had no idea what other things were being poured into her brain from the mysterious devices that filled our spaceship. I’d poked around, trying to figure out what all of them were, but I was not technically trained, and could not risk breaking any of them. For all I knew they sensed emanations from the Godhead and recorded the vibrations of the music of the spheres.
“Aya. What’s going on? Where are we going?”
Her eyes drifted across me, but it took a long time for them to see me. She blinked. Did she see me as some flaw in her imaging equipment, something to be corrected by replacing a circuit module?
“What is it, Vikram?” Her voice was weary.
“Oh, nothing. You changed course just now. I wondered if you had a reason for it or if it was just whim.” I sounded whiny even to myself.
“I see where we are going. The Ancient Ones have shown me the way. Don’t worry, Vikram. We will be there soon.”
Those Ancient Ones again. Aya had never explained to me who they were supposed to be or what they had to do with her. As we traveled they became more prominent in her mind. I sometimes think they canonized a polytheist.
One night I awoke from a nightmare of being smothered by rotting bodies. Dig as I might, I couldn’t get out from under them. Waking did not help me breathe. I panted. The air in the sleeping area was foul with ketones. Something was wrong with the life-system.
I undipped myself from my sleeping harness. The lights came on. The air was clear. Had it been part of the dream? I took a deep breath and almost choked. The air was growing poisonous. No alarms had sounded, though they were programmed to scream at the slightest imbalance in the air mixture. I drifted to a diagnostic board. It blandly told me that everything was fine, that we had five nines of performance on everything. I cursed it as a lying bastard, a snare, and a delusion. I twisted in the air and sent my way down to the main life-system. Panels drifted open at my command. I looked in—and felt sick. The thing was hopelessly fouled. It must have been malfunctioning for weeks. Bacteria and fungus clogged the tubes. Algal growth had obscured much of the light focused and pumped in from the sun. Inherent circuit diagnostics showed that half the circuitry was dead. But the system diagnostics still told me everything was fine. So much for the
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