To Walk the Line Between, part One
Posted: 2004-03-06 09:03am
The prefabricated room was fairly crowded and the smell of colonial whiskey filled the air. Two were sitting on their own, their voices carried away by the ambient noise.
“I cannot agree to such an act, you say respect, they call it sedition.” One of them said, not so subtle hints of his French origins made apparent in his speech.
“I've been to your colony.” The other said. “I know you guys are just as sick of being pushed around by the European Bloc as we are by the North West. I'm not saying we should band together and break off from Earth, I'm saying we should toughen up our act. A union between the colonies in Corsica Nova only ensures that the power blocs will simply have to take us more seriously.”
“They could take us as a threat to their security.”
“That they may do, but at the moment all Earth does is exploit the colonial labour pools to fuel their own economy at the expense of ours and then tax us for the trouble. Our people deserve autonomy and you know it.”
“I promise you nothing.” The other said, “I will take your offer back to the council. We will let you know what we decide.”
“At this point that's all I ask.” Said the other.
Earth hadn't really changed all that much. Sure, another couple of world wars saw the lines of authority redrawn and various nations falling into geographic power blocs but apart from some articulate lines and some changes to the social order Earth was Earth; the birthplace of humanity. Humans in particular adapt well, though they're still pretty much the same species throughout war, peace and the discovery of alien life forms that were too busy with their own problems to be overly concerned with mankind's shortcomings.
The Canadian apartment was stacked from floor to ceiling with packing crates. A swivelling ex-office chair, a flat device given the legacy title of “TV” and a coffee table supporting the weight of a week's worth of fast food containers were all that were unpacked.
A man with mousy hair and a brown jacket was sitting in the chair when his friend with the dark spiky hair walked in the door. “God damn man, why didn’t you just move into a warehouse?”
“No kitchen.” He grunted. “Besides, there’s a good reason why I haven’t unpacked.”
“You’ve never used a kitchen,” his friend retorted, “but I’ve got something here you could use though.” A folder slapped down on the coffee table after an empty box of chicken wings was brushed aside. He took one look at them before rolling his eyes at his friend.
“What's this?” He asked.
“Adventure and excitement thrown in with a helping of pride and dignity.” His friend smiled as he removed a pen that twirled once around his index finger before he clicked it with his thumb.
“No.” He swivelled in his chair slightly so he could see the screen behind where his friend was standing.
“Hey man, I went out of my way to get these, at least look at them.” His friend insisted.
He looked at the folder, after glancing at the logo on it he opened the folder and briefly skimmed the first page.
“No.” He said again.
“Okay Eric seriously, how many times have you said how bored you are working at the service centre?” Eric's friend continued speaking; a response from Eric was obviously not necessary. “You’ve been droning on for the past six months how you wanted to get off-world, now's your chance. Just sign the damn thing!”
Eric pushed his chair sideways slightly. “You're right of course, the only time I haven't been Earth-side was when I was when I was sitting my license, which I'm not even supposed to have. I'd love to get out there but I'm sure as hell not going to sign up for the army to do it!” There was more that Eric wasn't saying, but for now he figured he'd amuse himself by seeing how far his friend was willing to go to convince him to join.
“Aw come on, it's not even the regular army. I'm talking part time, they train you for a month then you spend 3 weeks a year on tour earning 50 cred a day. They don't even send you to boot.”
“I get almost twice that from my current job.” Eric turned his attention towards his friend.
“At the starting rate. And you don't earn it while marching around in a combat suit carrying a huge gun!” His friend was getting visibly excited.
“Or while getting shot at.” Eric returned his attention to the screen.
“When a part time soldier last saw any action China was communist. The worst they get are peacekeeping missions while the colonials are bitching at each other. It's a paid holiday!”
Eric leaned forward and opened the folder. “If I sign this will it shut you up?”
His friend smiled silently.
Eric took the pen and put it to the paper. “Here.” He said, handing his friend the folder.
“I Jay Gainswood officially declare my intent to join the territorial forces of the North West bloc,” His friend read, “you're a funny guy Eric.”
“Well Jay, you sounded as though you're sold on the idea, why don't you go?” Eric sat back in the chair linking his hands behind his head.
“Well, as it so happens my application's already gone through. That was the next thing I was going to tell you. I'm leaving next month for training. I don't suppose you'd mind taking care of my apartment while I'm gone?” Jay folded his arms, still feeling quite pleased with himself.
“Normally I would, but I wont be around either.” Eric swivelled around to face Jay. “I'm moving out. You know that paper in colonial economics I was doing? Well, not only have I finished it but I've also got a ship prepped at the spacedrome. By this time next week I'll be in business.”
Jay raised an eyebrow. “You're kidding right? You've had your license for what, three months? You don't know the first thing about running a ship in deep space, you wouldn't even know how to fly if it weren't for the company screwing up your transfer!”
Eric couldn't help but laugh; he remembered the incident several months’ back that brought him to his current situation; His email alert chimed when he received his corporate training assessment. The first thing he did was open it to see what new qualifications the company was going to make him get so they could transfer him somewhere else. Infotech certificate update, security protocols, industrial electronics update, class B pilot's license for under-5,000 ton private and light commercial spacecraft. What the hell?
Eric calmly looked up, “Actually, I've been doing my homework. A lot of people have gone out there to make a living for themselves. It's not that hard. You remember Gavin?”
“The retard?” Jay asked.
“No, the other Gavin.”
Jay thought for a moment, “the other retard?”
“Yeah that guy. He ran a trade route shipping rocks between the asteroid belt and the Pacific bloc colonies in Alpha Centauri. Ended up picking up a contract for one of the manufacturers. He's got a couple of other pilots working for him now.”
“Those poor bastards.” Jay lowered his head.
“Yeah,” Eric nodded, “still, there's a lot of opportunities out there. I think it's a good move, Dev’s also coming along.”
“Devon King? When the hell was the last time he had a job? He’s been collecting unemployment for as long as I’ve known him.”
“That’s what makes him perfect. He’s worked maintenance on commercial ships before and he’s got nothing better to do.”
“He’s got nothing better to do because the last ship he was on is now a floating wreck. Besides, where are you getting the money for all this anyway?” Jay's common habit of talking with his hands was beginning to manifest itself.
“I got a small business loan.” Eric responded. “I had to call nearly the entire registry of finance agents but I got one. The terms are shitty and I had to co-sign ownership of the actual ship with them but it’s the only way it was possible.”
“Okay,” Said Jay, “so you're starting off in debt, probably in some rust bucket ship that you don’t even fully own, doing probably some of the most boring ass milk runs in existence. My way, I get a gun, the exotic locations and paid.” Jay slowly brought up his hands. “I'm the one that's going to get the glory. I will be an army of one.”
“Jay.” Eric calmly said.
“I will be one of the few, the proud...”
“This isn't going...” Eric tried to get Jay's attention.
“I will be all I can be!” Jay exclaimed. “Will you not join me in arms my brother and together will we not be totally BAD - ASS?” Jay preached with his arms fully outstretched.
“I'm still not going to join.” Eric coldly stated.
“Fine, fine.” Jay lamented. “Just remember that by the time you change your mind I'll probably be a General or something.”
Eric looked at his friend with incredulous expression. “Part time soldiers don't become generals.”
“It could happen!” Jay protested. “Now if you excuse me, I've got some preparations to make. The next time you see me you'll be looking at a man that's cut off at least one human ear.”
“I thought you weren't going to see any action?”
“Well, not on the battlefield.” Jay concluded.
Eric glanced back. “What?”
“Uh huh.” Jay smiled and nodded before heading out the door.
Eric pushed himself up from his seat and walked over to the window, catching a glimpse of the occasional traffic passing overhead. The sky was red and partially clouded. A few stories below he could see the odd person on the street. He wondered if this was the last time he was going to see a red sky like this. Jay the soldier, the thought struck. He couldn’t help but laugh.
Eric had little sleep that night. It wasn’t so much that he was making one of the biggest decisions in his life but that it seemed as though no one was there to support him. He’d told a few of his friends from work about his plan yet none of them had anything constructive to say, not even a good luck. His family seemed to care even less, the lecture from his parents about how he should have spent the money on a house lasted for quite some time.
Eric staggered out of the sleeping bag he was using in the absence of a good bed at dawn. He had enough time for a shower and a quick breakfast consisting of the remainder of a half eaten bag of potato chips before the removal men arrived. While they loaded everything into the yellow hauler he packed up the rest of his things.
It was around noon that they had finally finished and the place was empty. He returned his key to the landlord and vacated the building. With his flyer already stowed aboard his new ship he caught a taxi to the landing pad where his new life awaited.
From the air the spacedrome looked simple enough, it was a simple yet large block of structures consisting of a small central terminal surrounded by around 50 rectangular landing pads, each around 150 by 70 meters in size with a 20 by 10 meter utility bunker in each northwest corner. There was a magnetic tram system running between the pads and the terminal.
“Can you take me straight to pad fourteen? It’s the one next to where that hauler is parked.” Eric pointed down to the tiny yellow rectangle next to the somewhat larger black and brown shape. As the cab descended Eric got a good aerial view of what lay below.
As far as spacecraft go, Eric’s new vehicle wasn’t going to win any prizes for beauty. From end to end the vessel was 86 meters long by 20 meters wide at its widest point with the bridge partially sunken in to the main deck roughly two thirds towards the end of the ship. The main engine took up the first 30 meters of the vessel that was then followed by another 20 meters of cargo-hold.
After paying the driver he stepped out of the cab into a cool afternoon breeze carrying the scent of pine trees and exhaust fumes from the cab as it lifted off.
“Dev!” Eric called to the man standing next to the utility bunker. The man turned around, he appeared to be in his mid twenties, very thin with chin length unkempt curly black hair and a small spot of facial hair just above his chin. There was also a small tear in the side of his blue and grey t-shirt that he either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t mind.
“Oh hey.” Devon answered in monotone. Jay often mentioned how Dev would always speak as if he’d somehow managed to get high off sleeping pills.
“You all set?” Eric asked.
Dev turned around and picked up a pair of carry bags. “Yeah. This is it,” he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the machine noise coming from the utility bunker.
Eric glanced down at the two bags. “Is that all you’re bringing? I was kind of planning on staying out there for at least a month, and we wont be near Earth again for another two weeks.
“Yeah,” Dev slowly blinked, “don’t need a lot. Clothes, some gear,” Dev paused, “pretty much all I’ve got.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Eric said to Dev, he knew that Dev had worked on commercial ships before. It was probably a good idea to have someone around that knew what to expect. “So, you excited?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” Dev nodded blankly.
“Okay then.” Eric said. A moment’s silence followed. Eric and Dev exchanged blank stares. “So then, I guess we should do a pre-flight or something.”
“Yeah.” Dev nodded. There was then another awkward silence.
“So,” Eric started and paused, “where do you usually start with a pre-flight?”
Dev scratched the back of his head while he thought for a moment. “Life support?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Eric stepped forward, watching the movers haul his things into the cargo hold.
“No wait.” Dev snapped his fingers. “It’s radiation leaks.”
“I cannot agree to such an act, you say respect, they call it sedition.” One of them said, not so subtle hints of his French origins made apparent in his speech.
“I've been to your colony.” The other said. “I know you guys are just as sick of being pushed around by the European Bloc as we are by the North West. I'm not saying we should band together and break off from Earth, I'm saying we should toughen up our act. A union between the colonies in Corsica Nova only ensures that the power blocs will simply have to take us more seriously.”
“They could take us as a threat to their security.”
“That they may do, but at the moment all Earth does is exploit the colonial labour pools to fuel their own economy at the expense of ours and then tax us for the trouble. Our people deserve autonomy and you know it.”
“I promise you nothing.” The other said, “I will take your offer back to the council. We will let you know what we decide.”
“At this point that's all I ask.” Said the other.
Earth hadn't really changed all that much. Sure, another couple of world wars saw the lines of authority redrawn and various nations falling into geographic power blocs but apart from some articulate lines and some changes to the social order Earth was Earth; the birthplace of humanity. Humans in particular adapt well, though they're still pretty much the same species throughout war, peace and the discovery of alien life forms that were too busy with their own problems to be overly concerned with mankind's shortcomings.
The Canadian apartment was stacked from floor to ceiling with packing crates. A swivelling ex-office chair, a flat device given the legacy title of “TV” and a coffee table supporting the weight of a week's worth of fast food containers were all that were unpacked.
A man with mousy hair and a brown jacket was sitting in the chair when his friend with the dark spiky hair walked in the door. “God damn man, why didn’t you just move into a warehouse?”
“No kitchen.” He grunted. “Besides, there’s a good reason why I haven’t unpacked.”
“You’ve never used a kitchen,” his friend retorted, “but I’ve got something here you could use though.” A folder slapped down on the coffee table after an empty box of chicken wings was brushed aside. He took one look at them before rolling his eyes at his friend.
“What's this?” He asked.
“Adventure and excitement thrown in with a helping of pride and dignity.” His friend smiled as he removed a pen that twirled once around his index finger before he clicked it with his thumb.
“No.” He swivelled in his chair slightly so he could see the screen behind where his friend was standing.
“Hey man, I went out of my way to get these, at least look at them.” His friend insisted.
He looked at the folder, after glancing at the logo on it he opened the folder and briefly skimmed the first page.
“No.” He said again.
“Okay Eric seriously, how many times have you said how bored you are working at the service centre?” Eric's friend continued speaking; a response from Eric was obviously not necessary. “You’ve been droning on for the past six months how you wanted to get off-world, now's your chance. Just sign the damn thing!”
Eric pushed his chair sideways slightly. “You're right of course, the only time I haven't been Earth-side was when I was when I was sitting my license, which I'm not even supposed to have. I'd love to get out there but I'm sure as hell not going to sign up for the army to do it!” There was more that Eric wasn't saying, but for now he figured he'd amuse himself by seeing how far his friend was willing to go to convince him to join.
“Aw come on, it's not even the regular army. I'm talking part time, they train you for a month then you spend 3 weeks a year on tour earning 50 cred a day. They don't even send you to boot.”
“I get almost twice that from my current job.” Eric turned his attention towards his friend.
“At the starting rate. And you don't earn it while marching around in a combat suit carrying a huge gun!” His friend was getting visibly excited.
“Or while getting shot at.” Eric returned his attention to the screen.
“When a part time soldier last saw any action China was communist. The worst they get are peacekeeping missions while the colonials are bitching at each other. It's a paid holiday!”
Eric leaned forward and opened the folder. “If I sign this will it shut you up?”
His friend smiled silently.
Eric took the pen and put it to the paper. “Here.” He said, handing his friend the folder.
“I Jay Gainswood officially declare my intent to join the territorial forces of the North West bloc,” His friend read, “you're a funny guy Eric.”
“Well Jay, you sounded as though you're sold on the idea, why don't you go?” Eric sat back in the chair linking his hands behind his head.
“Well, as it so happens my application's already gone through. That was the next thing I was going to tell you. I'm leaving next month for training. I don't suppose you'd mind taking care of my apartment while I'm gone?” Jay folded his arms, still feeling quite pleased with himself.
“Normally I would, but I wont be around either.” Eric swivelled around to face Jay. “I'm moving out. You know that paper in colonial economics I was doing? Well, not only have I finished it but I've also got a ship prepped at the spacedrome. By this time next week I'll be in business.”
Jay raised an eyebrow. “You're kidding right? You've had your license for what, three months? You don't know the first thing about running a ship in deep space, you wouldn't even know how to fly if it weren't for the company screwing up your transfer!”
Eric couldn't help but laugh; he remembered the incident several months’ back that brought him to his current situation; His email alert chimed when he received his corporate training assessment. The first thing he did was open it to see what new qualifications the company was going to make him get so they could transfer him somewhere else. Infotech certificate update, security protocols, industrial electronics update, class B pilot's license for under-5,000 ton private and light commercial spacecraft. What the hell?
Eric calmly looked up, “Actually, I've been doing my homework. A lot of people have gone out there to make a living for themselves. It's not that hard. You remember Gavin?”
“The retard?” Jay asked.
“No, the other Gavin.”
Jay thought for a moment, “the other retard?”
“Yeah that guy. He ran a trade route shipping rocks between the asteroid belt and the Pacific bloc colonies in Alpha Centauri. Ended up picking up a contract for one of the manufacturers. He's got a couple of other pilots working for him now.”
“Those poor bastards.” Jay lowered his head.
“Yeah,” Eric nodded, “still, there's a lot of opportunities out there. I think it's a good move, Dev’s also coming along.”
“Devon King? When the hell was the last time he had a job? He’s been collecting unemployment for as long as I’ve known him.”
“That’s what makes him perfect. He’s worked maintenance on commercial ships before and he’s got nothing better to do.”
“He’s got nothing better to do because the last ship he was on is now a floating wreck. Besides, where are you getting the money for all this anyway?” Jay's common habit of talking with his hands was beginning to manifest itself.
“I got a small business loan.” Eric responded. “I had to call nearly the entire registry of finance agents but I got one. The terms are shitty and I had to co-sign ownership of the actual ship with them but it’s the only way it was possible.”
“Okay,” Said Jay, “so you're starting off in debt, probably in some rust bucket ship that you don’t even fully own, doing probably some of the most boring ass milk runs in existence. My way, I get a gun, the exotic locations and paid.” Jay slowly brought up his hands. “I'm the one that's going to get the glory. I will be an army of one.”
“Jay.” Eric calmly said.
“I will be one of the few, the proud...”
“This isn't going...” Eric tried to get Jay's attention.
“I will be all I can be!” Jay exclaimed. “Will you not join me in arms my brother and together will we not be totally BAD - ASS?” Jay preached with his arms fully outstretched.
“I'm still not going to join.” Eric coldly stated.
“Fine, fine.” Jay lamented. “Just remember that by the time you change your mind I'll probably be a General or something.”
Eric looked at his friend with incredulous expression. “Part time soldiers don't become generals.”
“It could happen!” Jay protested. “Now if you excuse me, I've got some preparations to make. The next time you see me you'll be looking at a man that's cut off at least one human ear.”
“I thought you weren't going to see any action?”
“Well, not on the battlefield.” Jay concluded.
Eric glanced back. “What?”
“Uh huh.” Jay smiled and nodded before heading out the door.
Eric pushed himself up from his seat and walked over to the window, catching a glimpse of the occasional traffic passing overhead. The sky was red and partially clouded. A few stories below he could see the odd person on the street. He wondered if this was the last time he was going to see a red sky like this. Jay the soldier, the thought struck. He couldn’t help but laugh.
Eric had little sleep that night. It wasn’t so much that he was making one of the biggest decisions in his life but that it seemed as though no one was there to support him. He’d told a few of his friends from work about his plan yet none of them had anything constructive to say, not even a good luck. His family seemed to care even less, the lecture from his parents about how he should have spent the money on a house lasted for quite some time.
Eric staggered out of the sleeping bag he was using in the absence of a good bed at dawn. He had enough time for a shower and a quick breakfast consisting of the remainder of a half eaten bag of potato chips before the removal men arrived. While they loaded everything into the yellow hauler he packed up the rest of his things.
It was around noon that they had finally finished and the place was empty. He returned his key to the landlord and vacated the building. With his flyer already stowed aboard his new ship he caught a taxi to the landing pad where his new life awaited.
From the air the spacedrome looked simple enough, it was a simple yet large block of structures consisting of a small central terminal surrounded by around 50 rectangular landing pads, each around 150 by 70 meters in size with a 20 by 10 meter utility bunker in each northwest corner. There was a magnetic tram system running between the pads and the terminal.
“Can you take me straight to pad fourteen? It’s the one next to where that hauler is parked.” Eric pointed down to the tiny yellow rectangle next to the somewhat larger black and brown shape. As the cab descended Eric got a good aerial view of what lay below.
As far as spacecraft go, Eric’s new vehicle wasn’t going to win any prizes for beauty. From end to end the vessel was 86 meters long by 20 meters wide at its widest point with the bridge partially sunken in to the main deck roughly two thirds towards the end of the ship. The main engine took up the first 30 meters of the vessel that was then followed by another 20 meters of cargo-hold.
After paying the driver he stepped out of the cab into a cool afternoon breeze carrying the scent of pine trees and exhaust fumes from the cab as it lifted off.
“Dev!” Eric called to the man standing next to the utility bunker. The man turned around, he appeared to be in his mid twenties, very thin with chin length unkempt curly black hair and a small spot of facial hair just above his chin. There was also a small tear in the side of his blue and grey t-shirt that he either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t mind.
“Oh hey.” Devon answered in monotone. Jay often mentioned how Dev would always speak as if he’d somehow managed to get high off sleeping pills.
“You all set?” Eric asked.
Dev turned around and picked up a pair of carry bags. “Yeah. This is it,” he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the machine noise coming from the utility bunker.
Eric glanced down at the two bags. “Is that all you’re bringing? I was kind of planning on staying out there for at least a month, and we wont be near Earth again for another two weeks.
“Yeah,” Dev slowly blinked, “don’t need a lot. Clothes, some gear,” Dev paused, “pretty much all I’ve got.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Eric said to Dev, he knew that Dev had worked on commercial ships before. It was probably a good idea to have someone around that knew what to expect. “So, you excited?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” Dev nodded blankly.
“Okay then.” Eric said. A moment’s silence followed. Eric and Dev exchanged blank stares. “So then, I guess we should do a pre-flight or something.”
“Yeah.” Dev nodded. There was then another awkward silence.
“So,” Eric started and paused, “where do you usually start with a pre-flight?”
Dev scratched the back of his head while he thought for a moment. “Life support?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Eric stepped forward, watching the movers haul his things into the cargo hold.
“No wait.” Dev snapped his fingers. “It’s radiation leaks.”