Read Online The Recollection by Gareth L. Powell - Free Book Online
Authors: Gareth L. Powell
Tags: Science-Fiction
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desperately wanted to be just like her.
On a clear summer’s night, she saw the orbital docks bulking low in the hazy southern sky, their gigantic habitat wheels turning ponderously in the light of the long-set sun. Every time she saw them, they filled her with such yearning, making her wish for the far-off day when she’d graduate from flight school and take her rightful place at the helm of one of her family’s trading ships, just like her aunt.
Standing there, her head full of impatient dreams, there was no way she could have known how quickly those dreams would be shattered. No way to foresee that her doomed affair with Victor Luciano would force her to walk away from everything she held dear, leaving her jumping from star to star in an old tramp freighter, cut off from her family’s wealth and protection, desperately trying to keep fuel in the tank and food on the table.
Katherine Abdulov was twenty years old when she graduated at the top of her flight school class; twenty-two when she met Victor Luciano. Approaching Strauli now, at the age of twenty-six, wired into her pilot’s couch and decelerating hard toward the orbital Quay, she found it difficult to take her eyes from the blue and white swirls of the planet. The colours seemed to nourish her soul. At high magnification, she could trace the familiar bays and headlands along the stretch of coast owned by the Abdulov family, and if she squinted, she imagined she could almost make out the red roofs and white-painted buildings of the compound itself.
I’m coming home , she thought, and wondered what sort of reception she’d receive. A lot of time had passed. A lot of fuel through the engine, as her aunt would say.
She supposed she should feel reassured that at least her father had, in his own gruff way, seemed pleased to see her.
As the Ameline lined up for its approach to the orbital docks, it automatically synched its databases with the local Grid. It was standard procedure and every trading ship did it. They carried googleflops of spare memory capacity in order to transport data from one star system to the next. They were couriers. Faster and more reliable than radio signals, they spread information along the trade routes at close to the speed of light, updating—and being updated by—each Grid they encountered. They carried electronic messages, books, scientific papers, breaking news stories, and market information. The local authorities paid them a small fee for doing so. They were the lifeblood of interstellar civilization. The information they carried helped stitch the scattered worlds of humanity into something approaching a cohesive whole.
Kat took a moment to scan her eyes down the list of incoming news headlines, then disconnected herself from the ship’s feed, unhooked herself from the pilot’s couch, wiped her face with her hands, and made her way down the ladder and back through the hatch into the main cabin, where Toby Drake and the Acolyte were still strapped into their seats.
“I thought you might like to see this,” she said.
Drake looked up at her and his eyes widened, and then flicked quickly away. Puzzled, Kat looked down and realised she hadn’t thought to change out of the figure-hugging ship suit, which clung to her curves like sprayed-on paint. Realising her mistake, she folded her arms across her chest with a muttered apology. She stepped backwards through the hatch and reached for the clothes locker, from which she pulled her grey coat. As she put it on, she felt the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment.
“We’ll be docking in a few hours,” she called. “As this is your first time on Strauli, would you like to watch the approach?”
She fastened the coat and, safely covered, returned to the open hatch.
Toby Drake looked questioningly at the Acolyte, who raised an eyebrow.
“Go ahead.”
Drake unclipped his harness with a grin, excited at the opportunity to visit the flight deck. He wouldn’t look at
On a clear summer’s night, she saw the orbital docks bulking low in the hazy southern sky, their gigantic habitat wheels turning ponderously in the light of the long-set sun. Every time she saw them, they filled her with such yearning, making her wish for the far-off day when she’d graduate from flight school and take her rightful place at the helm of one of her family’s trading ships, just like her aunt.
Standing there, her head full of impatient dreams, there was no way she could have known how quickly those dreams would be shattered. No way to foresee that her doomed affair with Victor Luciano would force her to walk away from everything she held dear, leaving her jumping from star to star in an old tramp freighter, cut off from her family’s wealth and protection, desperately trying to keep fuel in the tank and food on the table.
Katherine Abdulov was twenty years old when she graduated at the top of her flight school class; twenty-two when she met Victor Luciano. Approaching Strauli now, at the age of twenty-six, wired into her pilot’s couch and decelerating hard toward the orbital Quay, she found it difficult to take her eyes from the blue and white swirls of the planet. The colours seemed to nourish her soul. At high magnification, she could trace the familiar bays and headlands along the stretch of coast owned by the Abdulov family, and if she squinted, she imagined she could almost make out the red roofs and white-painted buildings of the compound itself.
I’m coming home , she thought, and wondered what sort of reception she’d receive. A lot of time had passed. A lot of fuel through the engine, as her aunt would say.
She supposed she should feel reassured that at least her father had, in his own gruff way, seemed pleased to see her.
As the Ameline lined up for its approach to the orbital docks, it automatically synched its databases with the local Grid. It was standard procedure and every trading ship did it. They carried googleflops of spare memory capacity in order to transport data from one star system to the next. They were couriers. Faster and more reliable than radio signals, they spread information along the trade routes at close to the speed of light, updating—and being updated by—each Grid they encountered. They carried electronic messages, books, scientific papers, breaking news stories, and market information. The local authorities paid them a small fee for doing so. They were the lifeblood of interstellar civilization. The information they carried helped stitch the scattered worlds of humanity into something approaching a cohesive whole.
Kat took a moment to scan her eyes down the list of incoming news headlines, then disconnected herself from the ship’s feed, unhooked herself from the pilot’s couch, wiped her face with her hands, and made her way down the ladder and back through the hatch into the main cabin, where Toby Drake and the Acolyte were still strapped into their seats.
“I thought you might like to see this,” she said.
Drake looked up at her and his eyes widened, and then flicked quickly away. Puzzled, Kat looked down and realised she hadn’t thought to change out of the figure-hugging ship suit, which clung to her curves like sprayed-on paint. Realising her mistake, she folded her arms across her chest with a muttered apology. She stepped backwards through the hatch and reached for the clothes locker, from which she pulled her grey coat. As she put it on, she felt the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment.
“We’ll be docking in a few hours,” she called. “As this is your first time on Strauli, would you like to watch the approach?”
She fastened the coat and, safely covered, returned to the open hatch.
Toby Drake looked questioningly at the Acolyte, who raised an eyebrow.
“Go ahead.”
Drake unclipped his harness with a grin, excited at the opportunity to visit the flight deck. He wouldn’t look at
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