Starship Walker

By Andrew McBurnie

By foot across the galaxy: Walkers transport starships across interstellar space, but their abilities are rare. Few people have the mental talents to control the weird quantum technology that powers a star-drive. When an enigmatic force disables the two Walkers on board the Xinglong Hao, and the ship is flung hundreds of light years off course, novice Walker Gillian Berry is thrust into the role before her training is finished. Several thousand passengers now depend on her. But she has problems, including a possible alien influence, that could cause disaster for the ship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew McBurnie
• Release date: Jun 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310067488

Andrew McBurnie

Andrew McBurnie was born in Hull, UK, and emigrated with his family to Australia in 1966. He lives in Sydney.Starship Walker grew out of my desire for a mode of interstellar travel which seems more believable to me than warp drives, stargates or any other of the other current SF means of bypassing the dismal fact that the enormous distances between the stars are very unlikely to be crossed by human beings. I also wanted to include as part of the story some more recent discoveries of astronomy, particularly the fact that our home system exists in an enormous, safe bubble inside the galactic clouds, from which it will depart in a few million more years into a much more hostile environment. Much SF seems oblivious to this.Fear Week is about the city where I grew up, Hull, in the Yorkshire East Riding. It was the second most bombed city after London, but was always kept secret during the war. Hull was only referred to as 'a north-eastern city'. This is not widely known. As children, we were accustomed to bombed-out ruins: in the way of children, we thought it was normal. The early sixties was an era when all young people knew that at any moment, their lives might be ended by a nuclear war, a threat that was just called 'The Bomb'. The phrase, 'press the button', was widely used to mean the end of the world. The Cuban missile crisis was very nearly it. It's surprising that many people nowadays don't know how close we came - and aren't aware that the danger still exists.

Book preview

Starship Walker

by

Andrew McBurnie

Copyright (c) 2015 Andrew McBurnie

Published by Andrew McBurnie at Smashwords

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Chapter 1. The Star Mask

The thing looked wrong: a black ski mask with no eyeholes, just openings for her nose and mouth. When Gillian Berry pushed her hand through the neck to give it shape, she thought it could be a shrieking, eyeless gargoyle.

But I won’t be able to see anything! she exclaimed.

You don’t need to see this place, Abel Yegg, her tutor, croaked in reply, gesturing around them at the Navigation centre. He had long dark hair, and a half-shaven face. He looked like a pirate. As he spoke, he sniffed.

You need a surgical mask to cover your face, Gillian remarked. Someone might complain.

They stood before the stage in the Navigation centre. A silver globe hovered above them. Specialised interstellar navigation equipment filled the rest of the centre, connected to sensors and quantum tractors throughout the ship.

The centre was a small building in bizarre parkland down on the rotating rim of the ship’s main wheel. The location provided near Earth normal gravity. Through viewports in the floor, stars swung below their feet. But along the walls, a line of windows revealed green meadows and what appeared to be a forested hillside.

The mask felt strange: infinitely smooth, almost slippery. Its material was thin, soft. Its colour was dark-grey, almost black. As Gillian turned it in her hands, small areas caught the light and shimmered with complex coloured patterns.

Put it on, Gillian, Abel said.

She lifted the mask over her scalp, pulled it down over her ears and across her face, and tugged and tweaked it until it fitted comfortably. She had expected the headpiece to be clammy, but it was warm and light; there wasn’t much pressure on her skin. It was not in the least transparent; she saw nothing but blackness.

She felt Yegg fitting something around her ankles. His voice came from below. I’m giving you ankle bracelets to give you the basic feel of Walking. You don’t need to wear the complete body skin for this little intro.

You don’t sound well, Abel.

Gillian sensed Yegg standing up. He said, You won’t have real access to the ship’s helm, of course. He took her arm. Here, I’ll help you up on to the stage.

He sniffed again as he guided her. She was blind, standing bare footed on the coarse carpet of the stage, a little nervous. She hoped she wouldn’t fall.

Was this really the start of a new career?

A thin green line slid across the bottom of the blackness before her and stopped. When she tilted her head, it sloped the opposite way, providing a horizon to help her balance.

Abel said, It’ll just be a short introduction today. I’ll finish putting my suit on and connect us to the external sensors. Meanwhile, look around. Abel’s voice grew distant as he moved over to the control panels.

Look around? Gillian repeated. I can’t see a thing!

It’ll take a few moments. Relax. Try shutting your eyes; it might help. The system feeds into your optic nerve, so your eyes won’t register anything directly.

Gillian heard or sensed a soft click. The blackness surrounding her deepened and somehow became three-dimensional. It was no longer the blackness inside her headpiece, but a vast emptiness. Somehow, she was registering depth with no visual cues.

Abel’s voice said, Just try to stand quietly for a moment, relax and enjoy the scenery. I’ll go and put my gear on.

Gillian took deep breaths through the mask’s nose and mouth openings. She lowered her head. A few seconds passed as she waited, blind inside her mask.

Suddenly, she gasped in surprise. Strange shapes had developed in the surrounding blackness: semi-visible forms, only distinguishable as geometric outlines at the edge of her perception.

Then she shrieked.

There are stars! Oh! I can see stars!

She saw stars everywhere, and above and below her: immense splashes of stars like billows of burning sand.

This is amazing, wonderful! she cried, spinning around, gazing wildly in all directions.

Radiantly coloured nebulae and drifts of interstellar cloud surrounded her. It was odd, looking at this incredible view, to hear Abel adjusting his clothing as he changed into a full Walk skin suit. His voice came from a short distance. You’re seeing a prospect out to fifty light years all around the ship - well inside the local bubble. It’s real-time, not a simulation, but if you take a step it will start simulating. We can’t let you pilot the ship yet, of course.

Gillian turned her head slowly, but still eager, fascinated by the way the system detected her movements and adjusted her view in a natural way.

Abruptly, there was a subtle change in her vision, and she perceived relative distance. She could tell which stars and nebulae were close and which were further away. Her range and depth of vision had exploded: now it was truly astonishing. The scene that surrounded her, projected into her mind by the outlandish headpiece, had become animated. Although the stars did not visibly move, she nevertheless perceived the direction of travel for each star. On a much vaster time-scale, she saw that the stars, the dust clouds and nebulae were rotating around a distant and terrible darkness immensely far away at the centre of the galaxy. Everything was in motion. Gillian was so overwhelmed and excited by this vision that the immense perspectives did not, so far, disturb her.

Abel’s voice sounded close. He said, With a little practice, you can see in infrared and ultraviolet, instead of only the visible light spectrum - and beyond.

What do they look like?

Well, infrared is just redder than red, and ultraviolet is just - bluer than blue!

Gillian laughed, exhilarated. Where’s 581?

Abel answered, Look down, it should be there.

Gillian lowered her gaze. The dull red orb of Gliese 581d was beneath her, as Abel had said. She noticed that her feet appeared to be standing on nothing.

And where’s home? she asked. I mean, our home system.

At that moment, a new, grim voice intruded: Is this the new Walker?

Chapter 2. The Star Walker and the Navigator

Recognising the voice, Gillian pulled her mask off and smoothed her hair.

Captain Xing, Abel said, let me introduce Gillian Berry. I notified you about her a couple of weeks ago. Today, I’m introducing her to the Walker’s role.

Sorry to interrupt, Mr Yegg. The Captain nodded at Gillian. He was a short man, but he had a commanding manner. His hair was greying. He balanced himself on the floor of the Navigation centre with a walking cane. Two marines and a uniformed ship’s officer accompanied him.

I assume neither of you are going live today?

Abel replied, No, this is just an introduction, a simulation.

Do you have a formal training plan, Mr Yegg?

Abel’s reply was slow. We’re working on one. I’ve not attempted this type of training before, and under such pressure.

How is Mr Dane? the Captain asked.

Still the same – incapacitated.

And I understand you’ve developed a cold, Mr Yegg. You don’t seem well.

Yes, but I’m not too bad. At the moment, I’m still scheduled to Walk the ship home to the Earth system in twenty-four hours.

The Captain turned to Gillian. You have a lot of hard work ahead of you, Ms Berry.

I know. But Gillian had been thinking that she had won the jackpot, lifted out of a dull administrative job on a moon of Gliese 581d, a job that paid only low numbers.

The Captain gazed at Gillian steadily, making her blush.

How old are you, Ms Berry?

Gillian reply was almost a whisper. I’m eighteen.

The Captain nodded, continuing to gaze at her with piercing eyes that seemed, to her, doubting. Gillian felt caught out, somehow guilty.

But she realised that, though the Captain’s intimidating gaze was deliberate, he wasn’t probing for her secrets. He was telling her that his ship was in peril. He was telling her that she must be prepared to sacrifice herself for it. Gillian understood, and was ready.

Where are you from, originally, Ms Berry?

Hellas Basin, Sir.

You don’t call me, ‘Sir’. You address me as ‘Captain’ - or ‘Mr Xing’, if you prefer.

Yes, Captain.

And you were selected from several thousand applicants. The Captain spoke these words as a statement, not a question.

The Walking ability is very rare, Captain. Abel Yegg said.

We’ve had that reminder forcibly put to us, haven’t we? How did you arrive in the Gliese system, Ms Berry?

My parents migrated when I was young. It was a career decision. Gillian was careful not to drop her eyes from the Captain’s gaze as she gave her answer. She steeled herself, and returned his scrutiny with a bold look. I’m the one for this job, she said to herself, and to him.

The Captain appeared to nod at her almost imperceptibly as he replied, Well, I’m very glad we found someone with the abilities to be trained as a backup. We’re too much at risk with only Mr Yegg available. His cold may delay us.

Abel replied, I haven’t lost my sense of balance.

I presume Doctor Morris has decided you’re ok, the Captain replied. His voice grew brisk. Now, I’ll leave you to get on with your session, but my Navigation officer, Mr Dryen, will remain with you. I want him present at all your tuition sessions. Goodbye, Ms Berry.

The Captain, having asserted his authority, Gillian thought, departed, escorted by his two marines.

Mr Dryen, a trim, well-groomed officer, said, Don’t let me delay you. He placed his own walking cane up against a chair, and sat.

Well, Abel said, let’s get started – again. He glanced at Dryen as he spoke.

Gillian noticed movement beyond the cabin windows. A crowd of passengers had gathered to stare in at them, probably attracted by the Captain’s presence. She felt self-conscious under their gazes as she slipped the mask back over her head.

Abel helped her back up onto the stage. Once more, a soft click turned her blindness into a three-dimensional darkness, and suddenly she was back amongst the stars. The brilliant sight jolted her for a second time.

Abel said, Our home sun is somewhere in front of you, twenty light years off. We’ve got instrumentation to identify objects by name, and help you navigate. The system can give other information, but you’ll learn about that later. There are other things you might glimpse, though.

What?

The macro-quantum structures – patterns in vacuum energies – and the probability potentials. They’re dark or translucent objects that are sometimes difficult to see. The ship’s sensors detect them, and the computers try to represent them for us. Walkers pick a path among them to move the ship.

Gillian gazed into the colossal void. I think I there’s something, but I’m not sure, she said.

She felt a blow on her head.

Hey! she yelled, indignant.

Sorry, Abel said, his voice close. It worked for me years ago.

And the view around Gillian changed again. The geometrical forms she had half-seen a few minutes ago grew more defined, superimposed on her view of the stars.

Can you see the shapes now? Abel asked.

Yes.

They’re the system’s representation of the macro-quantum structures it’s detecting nearby. As you become used to them, they’ll seem more solid – or obvious. More things become visible with experience. Take a step or two, but you must always Walk with care, don’t stumble; that’s a very bad thing for a Walker to do.

Gillian took three short steps, and noticed that the weird geometric shapes around her shifted. So did the stars, in the same way that she could register their individual movements on their paths through the galaxy without actually seeing them move.

Gaining confidence, she took more small, cautious steps. Stumbling seemed impossible on the flat surface of the stage.

The ship’s not really moving, is it?

No, this is just a simulation.

Gillian laughed, from delight at what she saw. She tried some longer steps, but Abel cautioned her.

Avoid large steps. They’re dangerous. What you see ahead is in the past, and the further you look, the older things are. So there’s a small chance you could strike something that just appeared recently. We generally Walk in interstellar space only; we’re restricted within planetary systems because our step lengths are so long. A couple of thousandths of a light year is a safe, practical step length.

Abel’s voice came from behind her, and she turned to face his direction, then thought she was being foolish. But he was there: the outline of a transparent figure against the stars.

Oh! I can see you!

Yes, it’s convenient for co-piloting. We don’t want to bump into each other and risk falling over.

So tripping and falling is really a problem?

If you trip, and roll on the floor, we rely on the computers to detect and suppress it, otherwise the ship might shoot off anywhere at random.

The illusion of being in space was almost complete. The only contradictory sensation was that of the stage floor under her bare feet.

Gillian could shift the scene by lifting her feet and moving, but it was not always easy. The strange objects blocked certain directions, others would move towards her when she stepped towards them, but then they would stick. She could try to walk, but could not progress. Occasionally her ankles struck a hidden object. It was like trying to move through or around invisible furniture, or pushing against invisible walls.

Well, you’ve danced about a bit, but you’ve transferred the ship several trillion kilometres towards Epsilon Bootis. Or you would have if we’d allowed you that level of access.

Gillian looked down and saw that the red star, Gliese 581, had disappeared. She heard Mr Dryen’s voice. Only Captain Xing can approve her full access, Mr Yegg.

Well, that’ll be a while yet, Mr Dryen.

But how do I move vertically, up or down? Gillian asked. She shook her head. I mean relative to whatever plane I’m in now.

You need to learn how to rotate your frame of reference. You can do it with your hands, by making a particular gesture. There are lots of navigation gestures to learn, you’ll soon grasp the core ones. But you must be careful to avoid disorientation when you rotate. There’s a danger of sudden vertigo; it might make you have an accident.

Vertigo?

It can be terrifying to suddenly perceive a drop of hundreds of light years. I know. I’ve done it. It’s, er, not uncommon.

Ok, I can understand that, Gillian said. She added, I know that Walkers sometimes hear things. But it all seems silent to me.

That comes with experience, as the system gets used to you. It’s useful to hear the interstellar winds – and to smell the gases. It’s all there, but it takes time.

What other sorts of sounds do you hear?

Abel did not answer.

Gillian tried another step, a bigger one, but hit an obstruction. She gave up and stepped back. There’s this thing in my way, she said. It’s like I’m bumping my foot. I want to kick it.

Anything blocking your path is important. For example, dense interstellar clouds we should avoid. The harder you try, the more resistance your skin suite will create. It’s a safety mechanism; you must often feel your way forward. Once, someone found a dark planet, cast away from its star and wandering in interstellar space. They said it felt like a tiny, nasty pinhead.

Amazing!

Of course, the objective is that you detect this stuff just before the ship arrives there on your next step. That gives you the opportunity to stop.

How fast am I expected to get on top of all this?

It’s a significant training program. Abel paused. I think that’s enough for your first experience.

With a click, the stars and the black depths disappeared, leaving Gillian with blackness inside her headpiece again. Abel helped her to slide it off. She felt a flash of disappointment that this gorgeous new universe had vanished. Thrilled, she exclaimed, That was amazing! You can just Walk towards a point in space, and the ship moves there!

She was babbling like a child. She noticed Mr Dryen watching her, and nearly blushed.

Abel seemed amused by her reaction. But he also said, Let’s be clear: at each step, we’re making the ship more likely to be somewhere else than where it is now. We don’t, strictly, make it move. That’s Mr Dryen’s job. The ship can’t travel faster than the speed of light; it’s physically impossible. That’s where the Walkers come in. We’re finagling the laws of physics, bypassing relativistic effects.

Of course, I know that really. Gillian was almost meek.

And you can’t just Walk towards a star and hope to reach it. Earth is twenty light years away. If you Walked directly toward our home sun as you see it, you’d be heading off track, because it’s already elsewhere. You Walk towards where the destination really is, not where it was years ago. We’ll cover that type of navigation in more detail later.

Abel jumped off the stage and took Gillian’s hand as she skipped down. He said, The Walk from here to the home system can take four or five hours, depending on the conditions. Once, I had a bad time and Walked for nearly a day. That’s when it turns into hard work. He paused, then asked, So, what did you think of it?

It was fabulous! I thought I might be scared because I’ve only ever lived in sealed environments, like this ship, but I wasn’t - it was beautiful! I was at home, as if I’d been there before!

Gillian sat on the edge of the stage while Abel removed her ankle-pieces. He took the two used headpieces and put them in a pouch marked, delicate equipment for sterilisation.

But how do you stop yourself falling off the stage every few minutes!

A warning indicator comes up. You shift your reference frame – and turn round at the same time. It’ll soon become automatic, you’ll hardly notice yourself doing it.

When do you expect to Walk, Abel?

In two more days. The ship’s still climbing up out of the ecliptic plane. We need to get clear of the dust and the planets before we can safely Walk out of the system.

Gillian turned to Mr Dryen, still elated, wanting to be inclusive. Have you tried this? You should!

The Navigation officer rose from his chair as he replied, Yes, I’ve tried it. Anger flashed across his face for a fraction of a second, startling Gillian.

It didn’t work for me, Dryen said. I failed the tests, but I tried the mask anyway. I only saw confusing flashes of light, and it made me nauseous. Dryen’s face looked combative and gloomy. He turned to leave, picking up his cane where it had been leaning against his chair. He glanced at Abel. I hope you get that cold under control; if it gets any worse, we’ll be stuck here for weeks!

Chapter 3. The Valley

Gillian and Abel Yegg strolled out of the Navigation centre, following Dryen. She was relaxed, but excited after her first experience with Walking. The Centre’s entrance, triggered by a gesture from Abel, locked itself behind them.

Abel gazed at the officer striding ahead of them, swinging his cane. Poor bastard, he said. He's a navigator, a Newtonian, but he can't Walk.

As usual, Gillian suffered from a little unease in such a vast, open space. There were passengers all over the parkland meadows, and Gillian grew conscious of many pairs of eyes on them. A strolling couple passed by, heading in the opposite direction and she heard the male cry out, Good luck, Ms Berry!

Oops! Abel said, You're becoming famous.

Gillian was pleased and embarrassed. To divert the conversation, she asked Abel, Where did you dance?

Before I gave it up, I was with the Houston Ballet.

Gillian glanced at him. Oh, you're from Earth? I've never been there.

I discovered I was never going to make a soloist or a principal. But it turned out I was precise enough to be a Walker. You've had that failure experience, I suppose?

"I didn't mind. Ballet was something I did when I was younger, but I still sometimes do a little in my cabin - a few poses and so on; more like stretches. It's a good complement to the weights training