Death’s Dimensions a psychotic space opera

“Virgil?” Delia turned around when she heard him choking. Slipping her feet out of the dock straps, she kicked across the room and used an arm to stop next to him.

“Nothing. Just swallowed wrong. I’m still not used to zero-g.” Took me out of my gauze chrysalis and made me fly, now you give me a mighty machine and make me be alone again. Death Angel you make me half-die inside. It hurts.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Virgil nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He breathed and nodded again. Stupid, Stupid. She hasn’t broken your code yet. You’ve got to get away from Master Snoop. Far away to think. Play along. “I’m straight. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Weapons simulations.”

“Why?”

“Why what? You’ve got to learn how to use them.”

“Against whom?”

“How should I know? This ship cost a kilomeg and a half. You think Brennen wants to lose that because of any ‘peaceful endeavors in space’ nonsense?” Delia tapped her nails against the brace she held on to. “If you encounter anything hostile, the ship will defend itself, with you there to interpret anything which the ship might not be able to.”

Why is the roar coming back?

Virgil watched the computer-guided lasers a half hour later as they locked in on and destroyed a dozen small asteroids captured from their near-Earth orbits. When the simulation ended, mining ships closed in on the shattered and molten rock, now congealed into spheres, and began processing the bounty.

Just like Wizard-every action serves at least two purposes. What are my purposes? The cipher is interstellar exploration- what’s the code? The roar. Get back. Is Wizard a free agent? Can anyone be a free agent? Or do we all serve? Nightsheet, Master Snoop, both? Why are things so hard to decode?

The start of a new day: Virgil awoke with a headache.

It’s stopped. They’ve gone away. He flailed around until he reached a bulkhead and pulled outside. While dressing, he listened carefully.

Gone. No scratching. They must have gotten bored. I’m safe even from the agents of-who? Maybe they were just recalled. Maybe they’re inside. May-

“Good morning, Virgil,” the computer said. “Automatic transfer sequence has been initiated. You have three hours and twenty-one minutes until initial transfer to Alpha Centauri A. Please proceed to Con-One at Prow-Three- Center.”

What? Virgil twisted around to the computer substation and faced the speaker grill. “What do-” He realized what day it was.

Through the roar. Last night. Delia. Yes, she said something. Today. Transfer at eight hundred Zulu. Damn damn damn damn. Lost in the roar. Get out. Get out of my head.

“Ben-what… Has Delia Trine left?”

“All support crew have departed Circus. Am notifying Launch Control that you are awake.”

This isn’t right. I’m not ready. I’ve forgotten. There’s so much to know. I can feel it in there squirming, but I can’t bring it up.

“Will you proceed to Prow-Three-Center?” The computer waited for a polite length of time, then repeated the question.

Virgil tugged at a lock of his hair until it hurt.

“Yes. I’m going.” They’ll be watching me so closely for the next three hours, their fingers on an abort button. I’ve got to encode so deeply they don’t read a thing. Put a gauze around me until they can’t see me. Tight gauze. Suffocating until her knife slashes me free. Choking until…

“Are you in need of medical attention?”

Virgil gasped. “No. I’m on my way.”

He maneuvered through passageways designed for “down” being in the direction of the engines. The prow ellipsoid, however, was different. Designed after the discovery of the Valliardi Transfer, it had been built quickly and with little thought to engine use, since the wonder of Valliardi’s breakthrough was that as little energy was required to travel to the far end of the Universe as to travel to the other side of the Sun. If the engines had to be used for any great length of time to match velocities with various stars and planets, padded bulkheads could be removed and replaced with light deck plating. Virgil wondered who would do all that work.

The heavily shielded viewing port in front of Con-One showed a gibbous Earth. Sunlight approached Troy, the terminator about to fall into the Ægean Sea.

Always look a gift horse in the mouth, Virgil thought, then wondered with amusement if Brennen and he had scrutinized their respective presents with sufficient thoroughness.

He strapped into the command chair and flipped a switch. Banks of instruments closed in around him, all adjusted to rest exactly within his reach. He shuddered an instant before they stopped, then relaxed.

Nothing to fear. Nothing can happen to me so close to the end. To my beginning. You were smart, Wizard, but not smart enough. You had me learn too much about this ship, your prize. I discovered the program block that prevents my control of the ship while inside the solar system. I also found the alert program that would warn you if I remove the block. So I’ve got a secret, just in case you’re playing with me. Jord Baker knew what to do with navigation computers.

He shifted slightly in his seat and went through the checklist. Lethargic at first, he grew excited as the ship responded to his commands. The procedure took an hour. The last item in the sequence made Virgil grin with anticipation. He punched up a command to test the vernier rockets.

Vernier rockets on most spacecraft are little more than gas bottles and precise, directed nozzles. Circus Galacticus possessed twelve one-million-kilogram-thrust nuclear engines in addition to the fifty-four in her engine array. They provided the pitch, yaw, and roll capabilities of Circus.

The ship responded quickly and easily to his commands. The universe turned around him. Under his orders, the ship twisted and spun like a mastiff in heat. Each momentary firing filled Circus with thunder and the sky with a mist that glowed for an instant then faded.

Virgil smiled. I can outmaneuver ships a tenth my size. Or at least fry them if they get close enough. Why? Why such weapons, if this is just for exploration? What does Wizard expect me to meet out there?

He rotated the ship until the Earth, nearly full, hung before him. He watched it, his right hand resting on the transfer button.

If they try to stop me now, I can still drop this hammer on them. Coordinates of Brennen East encoded into manual override. All this mass would make a mess. And the anti-matter to boot, boot them into the arms of Nightsheet.

Stupid. They won’t stop me. I can do something they can’t. I ride the divine winds of Valliardi. I die for Wizard again. And again.

“Kinney-telemetry reports that you have completed your checklist.” The face of Dante Houdini Brennen appeared projected onto the viewing port by the ship’s heads-up display, a disembodied head floating in space like a god. Brennen watched Virgil closely as he spoke. “I was happy to see you handle her so well.”

“Most of my abilities probably came from Jord Baker.”

“Galacticus wasn’t finished until after his death. You know more about that ship than he ever did.”

“We both know a lot about it.”

Brennen’s expression revealed nothing, except that he watched Virgil’s face with a vivisectionist’s intensity.

His finger must be right on the button. Ready to cut me off at the slightest sign of madness. Well, I plan to pass this test, Wizard. And you’ll be old and dead and dust before the Trust finds out I’m not where I should be. If Master Snoop can even track me after I’m gone, gone, gone.