Sergei Lukyanenko - The Genome

“The sick bay is ready for take-off and for receiving patients.”

Alex sat down on the floor in front of her. Stretched out his arm to show her the Demon.

“You see this?”

Janet nodded.

“Do you know what this is?”

“An emotion scanner… I’ve seen them…” she replied in a colorless voice. Then a look of concern appeared on her face. “What’s wrong, Captain?”

“You have a problem. You hate the Others. Generalov has a problem. He hates clones. Kim has a problem. We are under orders to fly to Edem, and she doesn’t want to go there. And I am your captain. All of your problems are my problems now.”

Janet rubbed her forehead wearily.

“Captain… Alex, don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”

“Janet, are you sure?”

“Yes, Alex. I do hate the Others, those Zzygou things especially. They were our first targets, you understand. But I can handle it. Even if I have to wait their tables.”

Alex looked searchingly at the woman.

“Everything will be fine,” she repeated, with a little more conviction in her tone. “Of course, I was shocked. I am a soldier of Eben. But even a soldier doesn’t have to rush headlong into a fight. I can control myself, Alex. Don’t worry.”

“Then I have only two problems left: Generalov and Kim.”

“I’ll try to sort it out with Kim. She seems to listen to me.”

“Thanks.” Alex lightly touched her hand. “Friend-spesh, thanks for your understanding and self-restraint. We take off in fourteen and a half minutes. I have to go.”

“Will you need me at my battle station?”

“No, not really. The space around Quicksilver Pit is well patrolled, so there’s no real danger.”

“But I’d like to be at my post, anyway.”

“All right. I’ll be glad to see you, Janet.”

Alex smiled at the woman and left the sick bay. Looked like there was one less problem to worry about. Or was there?

Janet had been convincing, but could she really control herself?

He had no other choice but to trust her word.

“Accept me.”

He became one with the ship.

And somehow, all that had been bothering him disappeared. All the problems—Kim’s, Janet’s, Puck’s—were really minor things, barely worth noticing, in comparison to the warmth of the ship’s gentle wave.

It must be very similar to love…

Too bad he couldn’t really compare the two.

His crew were specks of colored light in the darkness. His ship—his powerful body. And the ship’s consciousness was still something separate… but it was closer and more important than his own thoughts.

Could he have ever really been happy without experiencing this? Yes… Because he had been happy being just a pilot. And had his parents chosen another specialization for him, he would’ve been happy working in a factory, or demonstrating models on a podium, or collecting edible seaweed in the ocean. He would have been happy regardless, for happiness was a necessary attribute of being a spesh.

Still, how glad he was that what made him happy were the stars, and flying among them, and all these mechanisms and bionics, interwoven to form an expensive toy called a spaceship!

“Passengers, please prepare for take-off. We are leaving the surface of the planet in seven minutes.”

Alex had never before been a captain on a passenger ship. But his memory easily supplied the necessary phrases.

“Time to orbit—twelve minutes, thirty-two seconds. Time to tunnel—forty-four minutes. We will be making an intermediate jump to Gamma Snakebearer, the transport center of the third sector. After that, our route lies through New Ukraine, Heraldica, and Zodiac. Other intermediate landings are possible at the passengers’ request. Our estimated total flight time is twenty-nine hours, thirteen minutes. The crew wishes you a pleasant flight.”

He waited another ten seconds, in case there were any additional orders or questions from the passengers, and then turned off the connection.

All right. That was it. The route had been approved, and now he had complete control over the ship.

Generalov had already made the route viewable to everyone. It was the very route he had practiced plotting that morning.

Alex reached out through the eternal night of virtual space. Touched Generalov, getting his attention. Ordered:

“Private channel.”

A moment later, his consciousness split in two. He was still the root of the ship getting ready for take-off. He was watching the last preliminary tests, feeling the reactor powering up… but at the same time he stood face to face with Generalov. Around them was nothing but darkness. This talk would be just between the two of them, and no other crewmembers knew about it.

“Navigator, I have a serious question for you.”

“I am listening, Captain.” Puck’s virtual image nodded.

“Please leave out the formalities. I’d like a heart-to-heart.”

Generalov looked aside in embarrassment. And said after a pause:

“I am sorry about my outburst. But… I really don’t care for clones.”

“We all have somebody we don’t care for, Puck. Some people don’t like naturals, some don’t like the Others. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I see,” Puck nodded. “It’s about the route?”

“Yes. I believe that coincidences happen. But everything has a limit. You already plotted this route once today.”

“I was practicing.”

“And you just happened to choose this exact route? Quicksilver Pit-Zodiac-Edem?”

“Yes!”

“Puck, that’s impossible.”

“What are you trying to say, Alex?” Generalov certainly enjoyed being informal. “Are you suggesting that I actually knew about our route beforehand?”

“Of course.”

The navigator burst out laughing.

“You overestimate me. I really was just practicing. The whole crew was practicing, and so was I. You can suspect whatever you want, but I really did choose that route entirely by chance!”

“Puck, that’s impossible. If you’re telling me the truth—can you see why I have my doubts?”

Generalov lapsed into thought.

“I do understand, Captain. I was also really surprised. I was plotting a course… let me see… well, I picked Edem because of our lovely bodyguard.”

“Okay, I suppose that’s plausible. But using Zodiac as an intermediary point? How do you explain that?”

For a moment, Puck’s image got blurry—he must have been calculating all the possibilities. Alex could almost feel the ship’s computer strain to handle the extra burden.

“I have to agree with you,” reluctantly admitted Generalov. “It’s a really good route, Quicksilver Pit-Zodiac-Edem, but there are five more alternatives. None are better than any others—all are within random probability parameters. All I can tell you is that I really did choose this particular one by pure chance.”

“Puck, tell me: before you went into the navigation module, had anyone even mentioned Zodiac in your presence?”

A short hesitation.

“No.”

One minute to take-off.

Alex nodded. He had a lingering, unpleasant sensation—the feeling of having missed something.

“All right, Puck. Let’s get back to work.” He cut off the private connection and concentrated on the ship. Flight control had already given the last corrections for the take-off corridor. The ship’s reactor was slowly increasing its power output, releasing energy to be accumulated and used up by the ship. Lourier’s job was to supply a lot of power, but also not to supply too much.

“Countdown.”

Morrison had already plotted the graceful curve of the take-off trajectory and was waiting with tense anticipation. Alex understood his hopes… he knew the feeling. But he could not let the co-pilot perform his own very first take-off.