Ride on a Shooting Star, A Logical World short
Posted: 2005-11-21 07:11pm
One of my favourite concepts come to life at last. Scientifically accurate? I'm pretty sure that's a no. Fun? You decide . . .
Ride on a Shooting Star
Jackl Yevengo stood stock still, his toes touching the edge of the metal balcony. Sweat trickled down his back, and it had nothing to do with their proximity to this system’s star and everything to with fear. He swallowed loudly and his grip tightened around his board.
“You look scared Jack.” Said a deep male voice, and Jackl turned his head to look back over his shoulder at the speaker. Ian. Sculpted like an advertisement for the best genengineering firm in the universe, hair bleached blonde, either from overexposure to starlight or overexposure to hair products. He was watching Jackl with shrewd eyes, one arm encircling the waist of his girlfriend.
Jackl cracked a smile even as a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face “Yeah, no sweat man.” He replied.
Everyone was watching him, each one a part of Ian’s crew. Some were professional board cutters like Adonis there, but others ere photographers, engineers, and girls who weren’t particularly good for anything but looking pretty. One of those girls, Jackl’s girlfriend (named by her patriotic parents Britannia) and the only reason he was here looked after him with a worried look on her face, small mouth curved into a frown. This was it, his moment to prove himself, but the pressure he was under was nothing compared to the pressures involved in the stellar mass beneath him.
A sea of broiling plasma stretching out as far as the eye could see. Even in this day and age it wasn’t advisable for civilians to just play in stars like Pan-Galactics did; and while those mighty governments might have titanic shields formed from the fundamental forces of the universe and enough power pumping through their ships to make this star and indeed every other star in the galaxy look like a pinprick, all Jackl Yevengo had was his board.
A Malibu uni-board, designed with all manner of high density force control equipment. Jackl knew that these board cutters behind him had surfed the tidal forces of a black hole and even the first waves of a supernova on boards just like this one. But even with the knowledge that his Malibu could let him survive far greater dangers than a mere star, it didn’t stop him from being deathly afraid.
“Is he ever going to get on with it?” asked Ian’s girl, clearly bored and irritated.
Ian shook his head “Go on Jack, just do it. It’ll be cool.” He called out “The first step is always the worst, but once you get into the stellar plasma, it’s just like riding magnetics.”
Jackl didn’t reply, but instead activated his board and his Skin; the thermal protection which he was convinced couldn’t possibly be enough to protect him. He stepped off the edge of the open platform and fell towards the sun. Britannia leaped from her stool at the bar, bottom lip clasped between her teeth.
As he fell, Jackl brought his board beneath him, crouching down upon it. Ian was right, the first step was the worst, probably because the first step involved falling kilometres down to the surface of a star. He might have screamed in terror, but found himself unable to do so. At twenty eight gees, it took him fifteen seconds to hit the photosphere.
In a star of this type, yellow like mighty Sol, the photosphere was about six thousand degree Kelvin. About point-one of a percent of the gas making up the area that Jackl intended to surf upon was ionised. Sun-surfing is essentially the same as mag-surfing on a planet with the added ‘extremeness’ of being on the surface of a star. The waves he would ride would be the supersonic flow within solar granules and the waves caused by their sonic booms; the formation of granules would be speeded up artificially. He would be tracked by drone cameras and his efforts would be transmitted back to Ian’s ship the Kahanamoku for his crew to watch.
Both feet firmly planted into his Malibu, Jackl turned the nose of the board into an onrushing wave moving at some seven kilometres a second, and was swept up, driving along at high speed to burst from the crest of hot gas. He soared upside-down, one hand gripping the edge of his board. For that moment, even at supersonic speeds, time seemed to stop for him, and he realised that it wasn’t all that different from surfing magnetics after all.
He skidded across dozens of kilometres of the photosphere before again ramping upwards once again. He rotated again upside down, righted himself and hit the leading surface of a solar wave some hundred kilometres long. Jackl brought himself around so that he again crested the wave flew above the solar surface.
Back aboard Ian’s ship, within his bar, the crew watched and Ian nodded sagely as the kid sailed along beyond the speed of sound. “Hey, Ian!” his voice sounded exhilarated “You gotta a flare there for me?”
“If you say so kid, it’s cool by me. Hey Kahanamoku, give Jack a solar flare.”
“Right away Cap.” Replied the omnipresent voice of the ship’s artificial mind.
Back on the solar surface, Jackl rose up above the heat he could only barely feel. Beneath him, a serious X-class flare exploded, a pillar of intense radiation across the electromagnetic spectrum. The board responded in turn, and Jackl Yevengo sped a thousand kilometers up at high speed. He grabbed the edge of his board and pulled backwards, performing every lifters dream move – the Cut-Back Drop-Turn. He rapidly changed direction, and pulled away from the flare, to be snatched up by the Kahanamoku.
Gently pulled in through the layers of shielding, he was deposited in Ian’s bar, before the ship closed it up. Jackl stepped off his Malibu and willed his Skin into his wrist, so that he could once again feel the gentle airconditioning, and the sudden half-tackling hug that his girlfriend gave him. Her skin was cool after his warm trip to the sun, and she rolled her eyes at him.
Ian jerked his head up “Cool Jack?” he asked.
In reply Jackl grinned “Yeah man. No sweat.”
Ride on a Shooting Star
Jackl Yevengo stood stock still, his toes touching the edge of the metal balcony. Sweat trickled down his back, and it had nothing to do with their proximity to this system’s star and everything to with fear. He swallowed loudly and his grip tightened around his board.
“You look scared Jack.” Said a deep male voice, and Jackl turned his head to look back over his shoulder at the speaker. Ian. Sculpted like an advertisement for the best genengineering firm in the universe, hair bleached blonde, either from overexposure to starlight or overexposure to hair products. He was watching Jackl with shrewd eyes, one arm encircling the waist of his girlfriend.
Jackl cracked a smile even as a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face “Yeah, no sweat man.” He replied.
Everyone was watching him, each one a part of Ian’s crew. Some were professional board cutters like Adonis there, but others ere photographers, engineers, and girls who weren’t particularly good for anything but looking pretty. One of those girls, Jackl’s girlfriend (named by her patriotic parents Britannia) and the only reason he was here looked after him with a worried look on her face, small mouth curved into a frown. This was it, his moment to prove himself, but the pressure he was under was nothing compared to the pressures involved in the stellar mass beneath him.
A sea of broiling plasma stretching out as far as the eye could see. Even in this day and age it wasn’t advisable for civilians to just play in stars like Pan-Galactics did; and while those mighty governments might have titanic shields formed from the fundamental forces of the universe and enough power pumping through their ships to make this star and indeed every other star in the galaxy look like a pinprick, all Jackl Yevengo had was his board.
A Malibu uni-board, designed with all manner of high density force control equipment. Jackl knew that these board cutters behind him had surfed the tidal forces of a black hole and even the first waves of a supernova on boards just like this one. But even with the knowledge that his Malibu could let him survive far greater dangers than a mere star, it didn’t stop him from being deathly afraid.
“Is he ever going to get on with it?” asked Ian’s girl, clearly bored and irritated.
Ian shook his head “Go on Jack, just do it. It’ll be cool.” He called out “The first step is always the worst, but once you get into the stellar plasma, it’s just like riding magnetics.”
Jackl didn’t reply, but instead activated his board and his Skin; the thermal protection which he was convinced couldn’t possibly be enough to protect him. He stepped off the edge of the open platform and fell towards the sun. Britannia leaped from her stool at the bar, bottom lip clasped between her teeth.
As he fell, Jackl brought his board beneath him, crouching down upon it. Ian was right, the first step was the worst, probably because the first step involved falling kilometres down to the surface of a star. He might have screamed in terror, but found himself unable to do so. At twenty eight gees, it took him fifteen seconds to hit the photosphere.
In a star of this type, yellow like mighty Sol, the photosphere was about six thousand degree Kelvin. About point-one of a percent of the gas making up the area that Jackl intended to surf upon was ionised. Sun-surfing is essentially the same as mag-surfing on a planet with the added ‘extremeness’ of being on the surface of a star. The waves he would ride would be the supersonic flow within solar granules and the waves caused by their sonic booms; the formation of granules would be speeded up artificially. He would be tracked by drone cameras and his efforts would be transmitted back to Ian’s ship the Kahanamoku for his crew to watch.
Both feet firmly planted into his Malibu, Jackl turned the nose of the board into an onrushing wave moving at some seven kilometres a second, and was swept up, driving along at high speed to burst from the crest of hot gas. He soared upside-down, one hand gripping the edge of his board. For that moment, even at supersonic speeds, time seemed to stop for him, and he realised that it wasn’t all that different from surfing magnetics after all.
He skidded across dozens of kilometres of the photosphere before again ramping upwards once again. He rotated again upside down, righted himself and hit the leading surface of a solar wave some hundred kilometres long. Jackl brought himself around so that he again crested the wave flew above the solar surface.
Back aboard Ian’s ship, within his bar, the crew watched and Ian nodded sagely as the kid sailed along beyond the speed of sound. “Hey, Ian!” his voice sounded exhilarated “You gotta a flare there for me?”
“If you say so kid, it’s cool by me. Hey Kahanamoku, give Jack a solar flare.”
“Right away Cap.” Replied the omnipresent voice of the ship’s artificial mind.
Back on the solar surface, Jackl rose up above the heat he could only barely feel. Beneath him, a serious X-class flare exploded, a pillar of intense radiation across the electromagnetic spectrum. The board responded in turn, and Jackl Yevengo sped a thousand kilometers up at high speed. He grabbed the edge of his board and pulled backwards, performing every lifters dream move – the Cut-Back Drop-Turn. He rapidly changed direction, and pulled away from the flare, to be snatched up by the Kahanamoku.
Gently pulled in through the layers of shielding, he was deposited in Ian’s bar, before the ship closed it up. Jackl stepped off his Malibu and willed his Skin into his wrist, so that he could once again feel the gentle airconditioning, and the sudden half-tackling hug that his girlfriend gave him. Her skin was cool after his warm trip to the sun, and she rolled her eyes at him.
Ian jerked his head up “Cool Jack?” he asked.
In reply Jackl grinned “Yeah man. No sweat.”
