Hope managed to complete nearly a quarter of the reports before the shuttle landed. Its arrival came just in time, for she felt both her attention and energy fading. The display changed to a feed being broadcast from the colony flight control center, showing the last few minutes of the shuttle's descent. The port side hatch opened and two uniformed crew members, part of the small Security detail, exited, taking their places on either side of the open hatch. A few moments later, the other passengers departed, the last ones, other than for the Pilot Lieutenant Pyrafox, being the Tactical Officer and the Star Wing.
The Star Wing stood framed in the hatchway, staring out across the landing field. The Tactical Officer waited, clearly on alert, as the Star Wing studied what was, for her, an alien world.
Hope understood what that was like, although she no longer felt wholly alien among the crew of this vessel. Most of them had come to accept her, almost forgetting at times that was not, as they were, Human. Even Created crew members like the Pilot, Pyrafox, contained Human genetic elements.
Star Wing remained standing in the hatchway, looking now toward the sky. As a being Created for open space, Hope wondered what it must feel like to the Star Wing to stand on the surface of a planet, breathe the unfiltered air, and feel the warm rays of the system's sun on her skin. Hope knew what all of that felt like, although she had never herself set foot on Paragon. She knew from her own memory the sensations of experiencing a new world for the first time.
Finally, Star Wing made her way down the short ramp, stopping to stand beside Hawkes. The Tactical Officer's hand rested on his weapon, instinctively protecting his charge. Hope approved and almost smile, pleased that the Star Wing had found such a comrade, even knowing that the Star Wing was probably more than capable of defending herself from any threat that colonists or their planet might offer up.
On that thought, Hope brought up the entry for the planet from the astronomical database, checking it quickly for any possible threats to the Star Wing or own kind. Aerian and Human biochemistry and physiology, while having similarities, diverged enough that radiation or microorganisms harmless to one could be dangerous, if not fatal, to the other.
Hope found nothing of concern, noting only that the planet's atmosphere and climate was very similar to that of both Earth and the Aerian home world. The temperature at its poles was far more extreme than either of the other two worlds. The rest of the planet, although currently sparsely populated, was generally hospitable to both species. She had no sense of how sensitive the Star Wing was to variations in temperature. Aboard the ship she had appeared to be comfortable—or at least had never mentioned otherwise.
She was bred for space.
Warmth might be a greater issue for the ancient Aerian then, Hope considered, although there was nothing she discovered in the Star Wing's physiological construction to tell her either way. She brought up the current meteorological readings for the colony, finding that it was only two point one degrees warmer than the ambient temperature was maintained aboard the ship. Likely, Hope decided, the Star Wing would experience no discomfort. Radiation from the sun would also unlikely to be an issue, as it would be filtered by the planet's atmosphere. In open space, there were no such barriers. The Star Wing was accustomed, and almost certainly designed, to withstand the raw radiation of stars and other astronomical phenomenon.
Pyrafox appeared in the hatchway, his auburn-tinted visible behind the Star Wing. Although Hope could not read his expression, she suspected that he was eager to exit the shuttle and explore the Paragon Colony. He would, Hope suspected, be welcome and likely barely noticed on the colony world. Based on the Fleet database, while Humans made up more than fifty percent of the colony's population, the rest of the colony's inhabitants, permanent and transient, were a mix of alien and Created species. It was even possible, Hope considered, that the Pilot might encounter one or more other beings who shared a common genetic Creation to his own.
She had done a considerable amount of research into the Human Creation process, now very strictly controlled. Compared to her Creators, their methods and resulting Creations often resembled those of a child experimenting with a teaching biochemistry set, far lacking the elegance and complexity of what her Creators had achieved. The Humans were, she knew, not the only space-faring species to experiment with Creation, nor were they necessarily the most careless or ruthless in their experimentation. And, she had to admit, she had learned things potentially useful to the possible salvation of her species from even those other species' most disastrous attempts.
Hope found her attention drifting again and, reluctantly, passed her hand over the top of her console. The floating display dissolved into a sparkling curtain of light and then disappeared. She rose from the chair, pausing for a moment against an instant of weakness. It passed, as much by will power as by her body chemistry adjusting itself to compensate.
She headed toward the main hatchway, performing a quick visual survey of the infirmary as she moved toward the corridor. Everything appeared to be in place. She opened the hatch, took one final look behind her, dimmed the lights, and then left the infirmary, sealing the hatch.
0 comments:
Post a Comment