Traveller - L.W. Samuelson (free e books to read online TXT) 📗

Traveller
By
L.W. Samuelson

Chapter One - Traveller
Long and lanky, standing over six mezures tall, Traveller looked like a typical Benwarian teenager that is if there were any. Benwarian teenagers were as rare as a present-day Lizerian lizard egg nowadays. In fact, except for the thirty or so adolescents in the cryogenics units, Traveller was the only one on board. A paler shade of blue than most Benwarians, his intensely blue almond-shaped eyes were continually in motion, propelled by nervous energy. His well-proportioned facial features fell just short of being effeminate, masking his extremely male propensities.
Traveller came from a prominent family. His great grandfather had been responsible for the final integration of electronic circuitry into the biological nervous system and the living brain of the spaceship affectionately called Ship. The living organism that they now traveled on could think, feel, and even make decisions.
He had heard about the exodus from the island nation of Benwar many times. How the planet had become severely overpopulated. How the other inhabitants of Lemmus had treated the planet with complete disregard. How his people had devoted their entire national budget to build and develop an interstellar spaceship. How 2400 Benwarians had boarded the ship for parts unknown. He had even watched the video of the planet deteriorating into blowing sand.
His father was Fa Orgen, a research geneticist, one of a third generation of unfrozen Benwarians who conducted research and developed new technologies that allowed the Benwarians to manipulate and control various life forms. He was currently working with Fa Structor on developing a control matrix with a memory chip that would allow a virus to circumvent an organism’s immune response. The viruses were so minute that they had had to use three dimensional shift technologies to put the chip in one dimension to control the virus in another. His father had explained it all to him, but he found it boring. He was bored.
Traveler hated his life aboard Ship. He hated being one of only three children among twenty-five adults. The other two were five years younger than he was. They were obedient to a fault. Not Traveller, he spent most of his time in the exercise room with a virtual reality suit on slaying Lizerians or doing flight simulations. He couldn't wait for the day when the other 2375 Benwarians were unfrozen. Maybe then there would be someone to pal around with.
Today he was to practice impelling with Porter Tellez. Porter was one of four Benwarians chosen for an advance party to investigate the planet they were moving toward. Traveller liked Porter, everyone like Porter. His easy smile kept his exuberant personality on display. Traveller walked down Ship's main corridor to the training room. The door opened at his approach.
"Traveller, by the universe, it's good to see you!" Porter said with great enthusiasm.
Traveller couldn't help but smile. "Hi Porter. How long before you leave?"
"We have a week. We're still trying to get our muscles unknotted from being in cryogenics for over 150 cycles. Every once in a while I still get uncontrollable muscle spasms. The other day when I was trying to impel, I ended up on the floor jerking like a Lizerian on spetamine."
"You're always telling me mind over matter," chided Traveller.
"Well sometimes the circuits get stuck. You're lucky. You've never been frozen. It's hard to control something that hasn't been used for a few generations. I'll bet I can still impel farther than you."
"You're on. I'll bet you a week's ration of syno-wafers."
"Okay, the loser has to eat them," said Porter laughing.
Traveller cracked up too. "Eating syntho-wafers is like kissing your father. I only do it out of duty. How about the loser has to schedule a conference with Logis?"
"That's kind of harsh isn't it? Who wants to be around the Sanctimonious One?"
"Oh he's not that bad. I've seen him smile every once on a while. Not that I want to talk to him, he makes me nervous. Somehow I feel like I'm standing a little too close to the sun when I'm around him," said Traveller.
"I've got it! Let's make the bet a little more interesting. How about the loser has to tug on General Battier's cape?" Porter said with a twinkle in his eye.
"No way in Lizerian hell! I'm afraid to even look at the General."
Porter put his hand on his chin to ponder. "Hmmm . . . What if the loser has to give up virtual reality for a week?"
"Man, that'll be rough for me not so much for you."
"Yeah, you need to be more social. If you had friends like I do, it wouldn't be so bad," Porter smiled.
"Who needs old people friends? They're as exciting as watching a Lemming tick on a dog," Traveller said vehemently.
Porter laughed this time. "If you want excitement, maybe you should come with us when we leave."
Traveller brightened. "I would love to." Unintentionally, Porter had planted a seed, one that would grow as Traveller watered it with his imagination.
"I don't think it would sit too well with your father. He expects you to follow in his footsteps,” Porter said.
Traveller didn’t hear him. He had suddenly transported himself to the planet Earth. The planet of his imagination was filled with Lizerians that Traveller and his small band of loyal men met with the blade. He whirled and ducked under their gigantic leader’s broad sweep of the sword to plunge his steel point of death into the beast’s heart.
Porter nudged him out of his reverie. “So how about it? Is it a bet?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Sure, one week without virtual reality.”
Traveller surveyed the exercise room. Arranged in a rectangle, it measured a hundred mezures by two hundred mezures. They stood on one end of the room staring down its length. Every ten mezures, a yellow line ran its width. The longest he had ever impelled was twenty mezures. Porter had been teaching him to launch himself by concentrating on a spot first and then projecting his mind there. Porter said his body would follow if he made it happen by an unquestioning belief in his abilities.
“How many practice jumps do we get?” he asked.
“How many do you need?” responded Porter.
“Ten?”
“How ‘bout five? I’m not as young as you are.”
“Seven?”
“Okay, seven for you; five for me.”
“You’re on. I go first.”
Traveller concentrated on the second line from where they stood. He tensed his muscles and crouched. He sent his mind to the line and fell short by two mezures as his body dragged it backward.
Porter wiggled his arms, shook his legs, and smiled. He stretched by extending one leg behind him and genuflecting the other then rocking back and forth. He switched legs to repeat the procedure.
“Come on old man,” Traveller said impatiently.
Suddenly “the old man” disappeared. Traveller felt the air rush past him as Porter impelled himself forward. He turned his head sideways to find his friend standing on the far side of the next line ahead of him. “How did you do that?” Traveller asked.
“It’s easy. Just don’t tense up so much. Your body has to relax before it can follow your mind. When you jumped, your muscles had to uncoil first; it cut your distance by a third.”
Traveller walked back to the beginning line. “You might want to move to the side,” he told Porter.
When his friend was clear, he concentrated on the third line, making it his target. He never quite disappeared like Porter had. He left a series of images nanoparses apart and landed well short of the second line. “By the universe!” he yelled in frustration.
“You’re thinking too much. Mind then body. Mind then body. Watch,” Porter said as he walked back to the first line. He shook his butt and wiggled his legs before crouching down, he turned around then impelled.
Traveller felt him brush by as he landed halfway between the thirtieth and fortieth mezure. “You’re not even trying!”
“Exactly. By the way did I tell you? I took second place in the last Impellment Tournament before we left home.”
“No, you conveniently forgot to mention that.”
“Sorry. Listen, go back to the starting line and do three jumps in a row as fast as you can. Try to do them without thinking, just relax and let yourself go.”
Traveller shook his head ane walked down the court with his countenance colored with frustration. He gave a look of resentment as he walked past Porter leaning against the wall with an amused expression on his face. His friend’s attitude stoked Traveller’s anger. At the starting line, Traveller forgot about concentrating and used his rage to propel himself forward. He landed just beyond twenty mezures, without thinking he impelled again. This time he landed twenty-five mezures farther up the court. On his last jump he bundled all of his anger and frustration together and used the explosion inside of him to jump. He felt like he would sail through the far wall. When he landed, his feet tangled together. He sprawled face first onto the court. His chin smacked on the floor, flesh tore from his hands as they slid on the semi-soft surface. He rolled over and looked up, Porter was standing over him. How can that be? He was over forty mezures away. Surely he can’t impel that far.
“Are you well?” his friend asked.
Humbled now, Traveller answered through blurred vision, “I will be in a minute.” He sat up and waited for his head to clear. His palms stung with a thousand sharp stabbing pains.
“That last jump was your best until you tripped,” Porter said.
“Yeah, but even that one wasn’t as good as your worst. I concede.”
“Here let me help you up,” Porter said. “Are you ready?”
“Sure,” Traveller said shaking his hands, the separate sensations of hurt had morphed into a giant throb.
Porter stood behind him, grabbed his armpits and hoisted him up. “Let me bandage those,” Porter said looking at his wounds. “Ship, some curemesh treated with anti-pathogenic.”
A panel in the wall near the middle of the court slid up before Ship answered, “The court rules state that play will stop when a player is injured. You will be given five parsecs to treat Traveller’s wounds and vacate the court. At the end of the allotted time all lights will be extinguished.”
“Thanks Ship. You are as kind as a Lizerian.”
“Lizerians are extinct,” She said then paused. “Lizerians were not kind. They were brutal killers. I do not understand your reference.”
“Sorry,” said Porter. “I forgot your programming doesn’t include sarcasm.”
There was another long pause after which Ship said, “Sarcasm; saying the opposite of what is meant in an attempt to amuse. I do not think what you said is funny. I am neither kind nor cruel. I am Ship. I do what is required of me to keep those aboard alive and comfortable. I serve the needs of all Benwarians. Our mission is to find a habitable planet. Lizerians are irrelevant.”
Traveller smiled at the sour look on Porter’s face. “Please Ship, we don’t need a lecture. Porter will refrain from sarcasm in the future.” He held his hands out as they were wrapped in the soothing gauze like material. The pain stopped immediately and the healing began.
"Thanks Porter."
"Come on, I'll walk you home."
"I'm okay," Traveller said. He's not really going to take my VR suit, is he?
"I know, but a bet is a bet. I want to see