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Cloneborne 001 – Venture
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 16:00:47 +0000 UTC“Is this what they call ‘hurry up and wait’?” Jennifer Alta—Jenny to most people, Jen to a few too lazy to say two syllables—said sleepily as she sat on the bench next to the pile of everyone’s luggage to keep an eye on it. Big duffel bags mixed with hard-sided cases and backpacks as they waited for permission to board. “They told us we needed to be here by seven in the morning because otherwise we wouldn’t be allowed in, it’s seven o’clock, and now we’re not being allowed in yet?”
“Eh, it’s the military,” her Uncle Bob said, getting comfortable next to her as he drank from an insulated thermos of probably mostly coffee. “It’s not like we’ve got anywhere else to be, Jen. Relax, take a load off.”
“What if someone steals our stuff?” she asked, casting her eyes past their bench. The refueling station and spaceport was an old one, built after the concept of ‘planned obsolescence’ was finally left behind in the dustbin of history as costing more resources than it made scrypts. Colored lights in blues, greens and yellows gave the impression of unseen windows showing blue skies, green trees and bright sunlight. People walked, rolled, and ran past, carrying bags, trolleys and carts as they made for hotels, restaurants, or their next ship. Not many were walking past them, since they were sitting near the restricted military part of the station, but that didn’t mean anything if anyone thought they could help themselves.
“Then hold on to your stuff and let the rest get stolen,” Uncle Bob said, capping the thermos, crossing his arms and leaning back on the bench. “Their fault for assuming you’d look after it.”
“Everyone’s stuff is in that pile,” Jen felt compelled to point out.
“Well, they should know better than to just leave their stuff lying around where anyone can steal them because we’re napping,” Uncle Bob said, settling back on the bench and getting comfortable.
“I really don’t want to start this trip with all my coworkers mad at me because their stuff got stolen…” Jen said.
“You’re taking a nap. How could you have done anything?” Her uncle closed his eyes as he got ready to nap. A few seconds later, he started snoring quietly.
Jenny let out a frustrated sigh. It was easy for him to relax, he already had job security! She was the new hire, the one whose contract was still on its probationary period, she needed to make a good impression on everyone. That’s what everyone kept telling her. Yes, the interview with Dr. Gonzales had gone well enough for her to be hired despite being fresh out of college, and yes, she’d already met some of the staff over the past month like Rose and Vakhali when she’d trained to familiarize herself on the scanning equipment they’d be using since as geoscientists they’d be looking at similar sets of data…
“—ob? Jenny? It’s time for us to go in.”
Jen blinked as she realized her eyes were closed, then straightened as she belatedly recognized the voice of her new boss. “I’m up, I’m up,” she said hastily as she tried to stand, only to realize she had her duffel bag on her lap weighing her down. Dr. Gonzales eyed at her as he picked up his own bag, a worn, heavy duty duffel that looked like it had seen years of use and was ready for years more, but seemed satisfied she wasn’t going to suddenly fall overand hurt herself. Jenny slid her bag off before getting to her feet and slinging the strap over her shoulder as she looked around. Uncle Bob was getting up more slowly, taking his time and not seeming to be in any rush as the other members of the survey team picked up their bags eagerly.
Waiting for them was a Pajhadin dressed in the gray fatigues of the Free Trade Confederacy Navy, her hair trimmed in what looked like a pixie cut before Jenny blearily remembered that was how warriors of their species wore it, long ears sticking out to either side like handlebars. The alien woman’s dark purple tentacles were folded over her shoulders, and her wide mouth held an easy smile that was slightly disconcerting with her vaguely shark-like, pointed teeth. The tag on her chest read Vocthuu, and even without eyes she somehow managed to give them impressing of looking at each of them intently.
“Good morning. I’m Lieutenant Vocthuu, and I’ve been assigned to escort you to your bunks and see that you’re familiar with what areas you’re allowed to enter on the ship,” she said, the English words slightly off due to her wider mouth and thinner lips but easily understandable. “If you’re all ready to go, please follow me.”
Ten minutes later, the eleven of surveyors were walking through security checkpoint of the military part of the station. It was clearly a new addition, and that was most obvious from the gravity. Cathedyne Station still used the old artificial gravity system, the kind that everyone knew caused depression and always seemed to be set just a little too heavy. The military part of the station used the good artificial gravity, the kind the slimes—sorry, Changers—had developed that didn’t make you feel like you wanted to take a nap and just stay in bed while listening to sad songs.
Applied Quantum Energy mechanisms could be weird.
“Please leave your effects here,” Vocthuu said as they reached a cart just past the checkpoint. “They’ll need to be inspected by security before they’re loaded into the ship. I’m afraid it’s standard procedure. However, be assured that you will not be asked to relinquish any bottles larger than 100ml. The modern navy does not subscribe to such silly superstitions.” Jenny sighed in relief at that. It was an old belief, the kind parents and grandparents insisted be followed despite being completely irrational, that carrying bottles larger than that would supposedly cause a transport to be attacked terrorists. It made just as much sense as putting elbows on the table being bad luck, or that stepping on a crack will make your mother a paraplegic. She wasn’t fond of some spacer rifling through her bags, but Jenny knew better than to argue. She wondered what they were inspecting their bags for. Were they afraid one of them was a Shinky spy trying to smuggle in bombs? Hadn’t the war been over for years? Still, she kept her mouth shut. The navy was probably like corporate security, and not fond of people pointing out common sense.
Once the luggage had been loaded into the cart, the lieutenant led them deeper into the military section. Despite tiredness, Jenny looked around as they walked, trying to see what was there to see since they might be the only time she was ever going to pass through the military part of a refueling base. Not surprisingly, it was mostly human allies: Changers with bodies like blobs of thick amber gelatin; eyeless Pajhadin towering over everyone else; muscular Rakido sitting in groups and no doubt arguing over the latest academic paper; and even a few Tiwada that managed to look smaller than the Changers despite being of similar height. Oh, and humans. They were there too, though most of them were younger than she was, and she was in her twenties.
There were none of the familiar franchise stores. Instead, there were what looked like separate cafeteria lines that were clearly intended for different species. Arranged al around were raised tables but no seats, clearly meant to encourage people to eat quickly. The seats were at a remove, consisting of long lines of bences, and along one wall were water spouts at different heights marked clearly with hot and cold, although in Jenny’s experience it would probably be more accurate to say hot and lukewarm.
She looked over their own group. Theirs was a mixed bag, although like her uncle most of them had been working with Dr. Gonzalez for a long time. The only other person who might count as new was Dawn—and not Don, despite identifying as male—their surveyor and cartographer. From what her uncle had told her, this would only be the slime’s—sorry, Changer’s—second job with the group, though this was simply the latest in a line of jobs. There was Doctor Lenoir, first name Romola, the medical doctor—as opposed to Jenny’s own fresh doctorate—who had examined her to certify she was fit for this expedition, and who was supposed to track their health and keep them alive as required by insurance and the company who’d hired them. There was the Rakido scanning technician Vakhali, whom Jenny had met previously as the latter had shown her the scanners of the survey ship the team normally used so Jenny could get familiar with how their readings were formatted, at least until this change of plans. But beyond them and her uncle, Jenny hadn’t really met anyone else beyond hasty introductions when she’d arrived earlier that were now a sleep-deprived blur…
Still, she was… fairly sure that they’d get along. It took a certain sort of person to be a frontier resource exploration surveyor, Jenny had been told. While the money was good, you could get just as much closer to the home sun, and probably with less chance of sucking vacuum. No, frontier surveyors, the people who went out to the edges of… not known space, because they’d known the boundaries of space ever since someone with a telescope had started measuring. Claimed space, the stars on the edges of the increasingly blobby, three-dimensional map of the various civilizations. To want to be one of the first people on an empty world, often lacking even atmosphere, to be among those who get to see it truly untouched by the hand of civilization… so they could find out where the valuable stuff is for someone to dig up later. And the fact they were all here, doing this, meant they all probably had that in common. To see nature before it was tarnished by people, by smoke and dust and tools… and get paid for it.
And if they were really lucky, they might even discover a new civilization!
…
Well, probably not, although that was the fantasy. Still, everyone knew the odds of that were ridiculous. Well before a civilization reached the technology needed for even the simplest form of spaceflight, they’d have long since announced their presence to the universe with radio or some other form of communication using electromagnetic frequencies. From space, their lights would be visible at night. Even if they were a species like the Pajhadin who didn’t have eyes and ‘saw’ with some kind of natural quantum energy perception, their cities would mark the landscape—
Jenny perked up slightly as she saw what looked like honest to gods windows ahead of them. No, not windows. Actual windows would have been ‘too dangerous’ and ‘a structural risk’. No, these were portholes, little round openings about the size of a toilet seat which were pointed well away from the light of Hrammhina. They were a sign of the human influence of the architecture of this part of the station, despite otherwise military austerity and simplicity of everything else. A little indulgence through which to see the stars.
Despite the lack of eyes, Lieutenant Vocthuu seemed to understand that, since her path led them past the series of portholes. “If you turn to your left, you should be able to see our destination, the FTCS Venture,” she said, obvious pride in her voice. “Though at the moment, there’s not really much to see, as the angle isn’t the most flattering.”
Jenny had to agree that what she saw through the porthole wasn’t the impressive sight of one of the Confederacy’s spindle-shaped ships but more like the side of a bright gray building. From that perspective, it was hard to tell she was looking at a ship a kilometer long and not simply the station’s exterior walls.
“If you will proceed this way, we will transfer onto the Venture through one of the station’s docking tubes,” the Lieutenant said. “Who here has experience with micro-grav transfers?”
Everyone but Jenny raised their hands, and she instantly found herself the focus of that eyeless face.
Comments
SCM2814
Made some changes to this chapter, as well as the succeeding one that don't really change much, but I feel make more sense.
SCM2814
Of course not. There is no such thing as magic. such a thing would be unscientific. There are phenomenon that the ignorant will think is magic, but it's only sufficiently advanced technology, such as Quantum Energy manipulation.
Menthewarp
Sounds like they are using some form of magic. The lower quality gravity must be using "the weight of emotion", the higher quality gravity must be using "the weight of duty"
