Excerpts: Among The Stars

The following is an excerpt from Bloodhunters v2: Blue Blood, Chapter 03.04. Some of the references make more sense in context.

ED.02347.06.19

Excerpt from the highly encrypted personal logs of Wexla Saurel Priviz, space explorer.

Thursday, 1700 hours, finds me sitting crossways in the pilot seat, legs hanging over one armrest, playing pinball on a datapad in my lap. I’m on a roll, I’ve got an extra ball locked and I’ve just achieved multi-ball. Then the unthinkable happens: triple drain, right down the center. In frustration I nearly throw the datapad across the cockpit. But I don’t. Instead I calmly pause the game and adjust the cigarette in my mouth. I don’t smoke. Once they discovered a way to make those healthy, fluoride cigarettes actually taste good, it seems like half the people on Earth took up the habit. But not me. Mine’s not even lit, I just have it because it reminds me of my wife. It’s been months since I’ve seen her. I hope I can go back soon. 

It’s hilarious, I took this job because I wanted some solitude. I’ve had trouble relating to humanity these days. Then, between missions, I met her. The woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of this life. Now I only see her two months out of the year, if that.

I’ve been riding the warpstream for the better part of a year. It’s a dangerous way to travel, but that’s how we find new habitable planets. Warp into random points in the universe, and hope you don’t appear inside a star. 

Okay, okay, I’m making it sound more dangerous than it really is. While the warpstream is pretty random, it specifically scans for masses of gravity when deciding where to drop you. It’s designed to look for planet-sized gravity distortions, and to spit you out at a safe distance from them. So the chances of actually winding up inside a celestial body are pretty slim… but not zero.

Hopefully you find something good and place a beacon, so the next ships can home on it more easily. Eventually they build a warp gate so people can travel there safely.

My supplies are at less than half, and if I don’t hit paydirt soon I might have to cryo back anyway. Whenever I find myself brooding like this, missing everything I’ve left behind, I invariably start humming an ancient Elton John song. He’s right, it is lonely out in space. Sending out thousands of single-pilot vessels, as opposed to a small number of colossal exploration starships, was supposed to increase the odds of success. But it does have its drawbacks. Disgusted with myself - after all, no one forced me to accept this mission - I return to my game.

But only for a moment. A loud beep emits from the control panel beside me, startling me into losing my next ball. I instantly sit upright and examine the computer readout. And there it is. A solar system. I might be able to go back home sooner than expected. There is the familiar but still-jolting shudder as I drop back into realspace, and then I start scanning for habitable planets. Of course, the odds of finding a planet that’s immediately habitable are virtually nil, there’s always some amount of terraforming that has to be - hello, what’s this? Breathable atmosphere, two-thirds water, stable weather patterns... I guess I know which one to check out first. 

As the craft starts its automatic descent, I make preparations. I remove my flightsuit and pull on the body glove. Covering every inch of my body up to my chin, this thin fabric is both heat and cold resistant, and can filter out any harmful biotoxins while still allowing my skin to breathe. It even monitors my heart rate and other vital statistics. Next I put on my body armor. It’s light and form-fitting, but it’s strong. Built into the armor and helmet are weapons, scanning equipment, a jet propulsion system, air supply, communications, and a music player, without which I truly could not survive. I finish donning my suit just as the ship sets down. At least I know the ground’s stable. The hatch opens, the ladder descends, and I climb downward. I step off the ladder-

-and into paradise. The sky is a calm shade of lavender-gray, with the occasional pink cloud coasting by. The ground is covered with reddish sand, giving way to dark clay here and there. The vegetation that surrounds me is serene and beautiful, with white-barked trees that are barely taller than I am. In the distance I can hear the twittering calls of some sort of animal. So obviously this sphere supports life. I do a bioscan. Several animals in the vicinity, none of them larger than a cat. I see one of them now. It resembles a koala, but it’s only the size of a guinea pig. It scampers up to me, and I reach down and pet it. It nuzzles against my boot, making a sound similar to purring. This is beyond trusting. This is an animal that has never seen a predator in its life.

The bioscanners tell me that the air is breathable, time to put that to the test. A press of the button and my faceplate slides up into my helmet. I take a deep breath, and it’s heaven. The air is clean, cleaner than I’ve ever breathed. Earth never had air this clean. I catch the sweet scent of some kind of flora, and my heart races. The air is cool but not cold against my skin. I walk around, leaving the purring animal behind. I keep telling myself I’m just doing my job, scouting the area and making a judgment as to the planet’s habitability, but I know that I’m really just enjoying the scenery. This, right here, this is why I do this job.

I find a beach. The water is so clear I can see the bottom. An impulse hits me - completely against regulations, but I’m compelled. I scan the water, it’s safe. Did I expect anything less? No toxins, no chemicals, not even dangerous aquatic lifeforms, just pure H2O. I take a quick glance around, as if there were actually a possibility of someone watching. Then I take off the body armor, followed by the body glove. I test the water with my toes. Perfect. Of course. Next thing I know, I’m in it up to my neck and having the time of my life. I swim, I splash, I float on my back. It’s the most enjoyable experience I’ve had on this entire mission. 

Eventually I do heed my responsibilities and grudgingly put my biosuit back on. I make my way back to the ship and begin to file my report.

“Solar System 31526, Sector 17, Subsection G2, 4th Planet”

“Geologic State: Stable”

“Atmosphere: Earthlike”

Right. Earthlike? This is better than Earth. Much better. I finish the report, citing detail after perfect detail, until finally my finger hovers over the send button. This is it, a successful mission, I can finally go home. I look out the viewscreen, at this incredible planet, and and think about what it will look like in ten years. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Architecture these days is rather pleasing to look at, and we don’t pollute the air as much as we used to. There will certainly be fewer of those interesting trees, but some will survive. And those friendly animals... Okay, so maybe they won’t always be as trusting as they are right now. But they’ll survive. All in all, this will be a great place for the human race to perpetuate its rapidly increasing population. A place to start over, and maybe do things right for once. So...

My finger hovers a second more, and finally I hit the erase button. I’ll keep looking, but I’ll remember this place. For now, maybe I’ll just keep this planet to myself.

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