It had to be Rick. Of all the people it could have been, it had to be Rick.
However, he was surprisingly discreet about it. Edie barely recognized the predatory swinger of the night before. Even his voice seemed different- the insinuating tone was gone, and he spoke with an authority that reminded her vaguely of Peter.
“You understand that it has to be fitted to you, Edie? This might seem a little silly to you, but whether you think you need it or not you get a Pisces assigned to you, and we’re about to adjust it so it’s ideally suited. Then we’re heading over to the computer center so you can see the equipment you’ll be working with.”
“You mean you’re going to adjust the seat?” asked Edie. “Sure. I probably could do that myself, though.”
“Nope. You don’t really understand how adjustable these are. Hop in- this is the hatch control, but don’t close it yet.”
“It’s very close,” noted Edie, as the sub fit her like a glove, it seemed.
“Well, that’s not surprising, I preset it for you.” The fox grinnned, and a glint of his lavascious side showed through as he said, “I have pretty good figures on that lovely feline body. I think I got your butt to within a few microns. Fits, does it?”
Edie glared at him, annoyed by the remark. “Sure, it fits. How convenient. So what else is there?
Rick’s mood passed tracelessly. “Just a moment.” He adjusted the pedals with a wrench, bringing them up half an inch to her paws, thoughtfully appraising her sight angle and shifting the seat a few degrees this way and that until he was satisfied. “Okay, now see that lever? That’s your throttle…” he turned a switch, “and pull it back firmly. As if you were going to go to top speed.”
Edie did so, noting that it offered a resistance when moved.
Rick looked at her, made an adjustment without asking, and said, “Again.”
This time it was smoother, more like an extension of her arm. “Better,” she said.
“Need it lighter? I think that’s about as light as it should go, for you.
Edie considered that. “You can make it easier still? Wouldn’t that be better?”
“No, absolutely not. It’s tight for a reason- having the throttle shift unexpectedly could be a bad idea, and if it was loose like you’re thinking of, your own acceleration or shock waves could move it. That would be unacceptable.”
Edie blinked at the fox. “Shock waves?”
“Pressure waves. Denizens, the wake of other subs. You’ll note there are straps.”
Edie nodded. “Indeed there are.” She blinked as Rick began strapping her in. “Hey, I’m not ready yet! Or am I?”
“Take it easy, kitten. I have to strap you in for this. Take the throttle and pull back as hard as you possibly can, with a desperate yank.”
Edie blinked once more. “I beg your pardon?”
The fox smirked, a bit unkindly. “If you think you’re going to hurt it you’re out of your mind. This arm, little kitty,” and he grasped Edie’s upper arm, “is the arm of a programmer. I’m tempted to say ‘a lover, not a fighter’, but we’ve been through that. Do as I say.”
Edie glowered at him, and promptly grabbed the throttle and tried to yank it out by the roots, hauling back with all her strength.
Rick was hidden from sight, reading some sort of measurement and adjusting controls, and then reappeared. “Okay, that was great. Do you want to know why I had you do that?”
“Perhaps because you enjoyed saying ‘do as I say’?” purred Edie, with a dangerous sweetness.
Rick was no fool. “Take it easy. I got a full effort out of you by annoying you. You seemed the type that might not really put out unless provoked. That is an emergency throttle adjustment, Edie, and it is set to an acceleration rate that will black you out temporarily. We have to have it at an extreme effort level… all you have to know is this: if you are ever in a situation where you have to go scat, that throttle’s there. You can pull it all the way back in normal use and not risk passing out. But if you’re panicking, if you really have to get away from something fast, it’s tuned to respond to the emergency level. No extra switches. Just yank for all you’re worth.”
Edie just nodded, and asked, “Are there other adjustments you will be playing mind-games around?”
“No, there are not. That’s the only one. You understand, right? Some pilots can be counted on to haul on the throttle for all they’re worth at that point- they have something to prove, and secretly hope they can break it. That, actually, wasn’t me when I was in your position.”
“Hm. Then what did happen when you were in my position?”
Rick slowly grinned. “Peter was in my position. I’m not sure you realize how long I’ve been aboard.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah, Peter. And, you know, he pulled exactly the same trick on me, only worse. I’d flirted with him early on, so he knew about me… squeezed my bicep and told me his boyfriend was probably stronger than I was. Unbelievable. Anyway, I saw red and tried to break the throttle, and he made the adjustment and explained things like I’m doing now. The man was, and is, just unbelievable. So that’s where that trick came from- right from the top. Peter.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s nothing else you have to do like that,” grumbled Edie.
“Yeah- enough history. We’re running behind schedule. Next is orientation- I’m going to ask you a question, and please think about it seriously. Which do you find most natural, an airplane, a car or a motorcycle?”
Edie blinked. “How so?”
“I’m trying to tune the rudder versus aileron controls. Airplane is unlinked. Car is linked and rudder-oriented, it’ll give you some side acceleration. Motorcycle is linked and aileron-oriented, and the linkage is fairly strong- with the linked ones you’ll have the controls trying to move together with servos, though you can still sideslip if you have to. What’ll it be? Think about it.”
Edie remembered the hours spent playing with the flight simulator on her old computer. She winced a bit, remembering that her idea of fun was to fly it nearly out of control, and that she’d drilled holes in the ground over and over trying snap rolls while flying under bridges and radical sideslips to lose altitude enough to go into the giant sewer system. Still, it was pretty clear. “Airplane. Definitely. No question about it.”
Rick looked a bit startled. “You sound sure of yourself. You understand that the linkages are very helpful to inexperienced… Pardon me. I’m just not used to seeing programmers choosing airplane. They actually seem to prefer motorcycle.”
Edie smirked. “This programmer worked on Auger In. Developer. Don’t worry about me, dear.”
Rick blinked, then grinned. “That’s what I train on. What kind of system did you get to run it? Fancy developer stuff?”
“Just my own, but it’s an ABM, three screens, full yoke. Two gig, one point five tera, nice little setup.”
Rick grinned more. “Leave me out of your competitions, you programmer type. I can’t compete. You’ll babble on about it for hours if I give you a chance, and we haven’t got time.” He adjusted some hidden controls. “How twitchy do you want the yoke? I better not second-guess you.”
“Oh, I like it tw… hm. Maybe not quite so much. How about a notch below twitchy? Actually, how does it compare with Auger In? I had that nine point six, nine point seven, eight point five.”
“Got it.” said the fox, and started adjusting things.
“Hold it- go with nine, nine, eight. You have it marked that way?”
“No, I just know these subs. Why the cutback? Your settings were pretty impressive- those are pilot-level settings. Especially unlinked.”
Edie sighed ruefully, then smirked. “Well, you know Auger In?”
“Sure.”
“I did. Frequently. Nine-nine-eight were my safety settings, if I wanted to fly around and not crash I’d go with those. The others were what I used most of the time, and I crashed quite a bit. I would go pretty wild. It was a good way to burn off tensions after work.”
Rick nodded. “Fair enough. You’re not going to be crashing here, are you? If you get killed and wipe out a sub, Peter will kill you, then he’ll kill me, and then I will kill you. Sure you don’t want to back off some more? That’s still pretty twitchy.”
“I’m sure,” said Edie. “I logged a lot of time on Auger In. Hmmm, do you have the physical feedback for this? I suppose you would, since it’s real. Is this all electronic, or servo assisted, or even mechanical?”
“That was my next and last question, servo assisted, and how much centering do you want? I’m guessing not much as you’re small and light, but I don’t care what you did with Auger, you’re getting some centering here. It’s not safe to have no kinesthetic feedback.”
“Oh, I told you I had full yoke. Can you give me template C with a touch extra on the pedals?”
“Sure. That sounds like a good setting, though once again it’s twitchier than I’m used to giving a programmer.”
“I have a light touch, and that’s what I’m used to.”
“Are you sure you’re considering the situation? There are going to be times when you’ll not be entirely focused on the controls. You won’t be always flying when you’re in the mood to, sometimes you’ll be preoccupied. How about a hair off the twitchiness, and some extra centering?”
Edie thought. “Leave the twitchiness alone, but okay, more centering. Say, halfway to D, or the equivalent. I think I could fly that in my sleep.”
“You’re not going to be sleeping. I’m just trying to make concessions to reality here.” He paused. “You’re too pretty to waste.”
Edie blinked. “Er, thanks. How much more is there?”
“That was it.” He flipped a few switches on the control panel, then pressed a button and the sub emitted a harsh mechanical yelp, then settled down to a penetrating whine of turbines. “This button here is the hatch open- don’t worry, it’s failsafe. You ready to follow me? We’re heading over to the computer center.”
Edie gulped inconspicuously, and nodded. “I’m ready. Er, what would you do if I wasn’t a pilot?”
“I’d fly you by remote. Do it all the time. Want me to?”
“No.” said Edie, determinedly. “This I can handle. It’s just a little intimidating. This thing’s going to take my ears off, you know that?”
“When you close the hatch, it’ll cut off. Now, follow me.”
He pressed another button and ducked his arm out of the way as the hatch began to close, latching with a hiss as the cabin pressure kicked in. The turbine whine virtually disappeared, and she looked about, marvelling at the huge field of view. Rick was getting into a matching sub, and she looked it over from the slender tail structure to the stubby ‘wings’. Interesting sort of submarine, she thought. It was obviously a maneuverable design, well suited to navigating a water world with no bottom to it.
Rick’s voice came over speakers in the cabin, mounted behind her head. Surprisingly, his voice was localized and came from the sub he was in- she blinked, thought ‘Binaural’, and listened.
“Turn on your lights, marked ‘lights’.”
She did so, silently approving of the interface designer, and the front of the room was bathed in light. It seemed to flash on suddenly and then build itself to a usable level, as rapidly as her eyes could adjust. She watched Rick’s sub as its lights went on and decided that was exactly what was happening. Another nice touch. She liked this odd little submarine already.
“Your rudder and throttle are linked to the wheels while you’re on a surface. Do what I do- orient yourself and charge out the door, ten seconds after I do.”
Edie watched as a very large hatch opened, revealing mostly steel bulkheads, a sort of ceiling that vanished into the distance. She couldn’t see the water but figured it had to be kept under hatch level, or the floor would get wet.
Rick’s sub moved forward, angling itself carefully, and then its turbines let out a deafening shriek, buffeting her sub with its thrust, and it flung itself out the hatch, dropping out of sight, momentarily illuminating the roof of Aquarius as the lights flashed to full brightness.
Edie waited a careful ten seconds, and then began guiding her sub toward the opening. It handled eagerly, as if longing to fling itself across the deckplates, and she warily held it in check, not wishing to rip one of the ‘wings’ off on the hatch side. When she was satisfied that it was aimed properly, she took a breath and pulled back cautiously on the throttle, rolled smoothly out the door, and dropped like a stone.
At first she could not interpret what was happening. It was as if she was hanging in air, unsupported. The sub had pitched forward, but her speed was just enough that it didn’t go end over end. In shock, she stared at a readout that said her airspeed was increasing dramatically, and looked at the still water hanging before her eyes.
She saw ripples. They got bigger. When she realized they were waves, Aquarius-scale waves, and heard Rick shrieking over the speakers at her, she understood, and yanked back on the yoke until it was pinned, hearing the faint scream of the wind rushing by the canopy, grabbing the throttle, and she hit the water with a glancing blow and was knocked unconscious.
When she came to, her body was being shaken by the sub’s continual bouncing across the waves, and her hand was still gripping the throttle. She noticed confusedly that it was pulled fully back, and then realized Rick was still screaming at her. “Pull up! Pull up!”
Edie heaved a deep breath, and carefully pulled the yoke back. There were a few more buffets as waves caught the sub, and then the wings bit air and lifted her away from the water. She took it up a safe distance from the water, and unsteadily said, “Yes.”
There was a moment of silence from the speakers.
“So you’re alive. What the hell do you think you’re doing? I should have turned on the goddamned fly-by-wire.”
Edie gulped. “I thought…”
“You didn’t think, and you didn’t do what I said. And so you went out at what must have been half speed or less, and damned near went straight in. I can’t believe I listened to you. I should have turned on the goddamned fly-by-wire.”
“Is it broken? The sub, or plane, or whatever it is?” managed Edie. “Are we going to make it to wherever we’re going?”
Rick sighed loudly over the speakers, and paused again, getting control of himself. “Ten to one it’s not broken, Edie. These subs are built for that kind of thing. You are not. Now, you’re going to tell me right now, and tell me honestly, just exactly how much you were bullshitting me back there. Now!!”
Edie blinked. Rick had pulled back and was now flying beside her, almost close enough for her to see his face. She was glad she couldn’t, quite. She could make out that he was staring out the side of the canopy at her, and she felt a rush of shame, then of anger at her embarrassing mistake, and became determined to stop him right there.
She took a few deep breaths, resisting the temptation to experiment with the ailerons to get the feel of them, muttered a quiet prayer to anything out there that took care of stray kittens, and snapped the yoke sharply to the side, watching the horizon spin around her, and snapping back with a touch of overcorrection almost immediately, centering the stick, catching her breath. That, she thought, was really a very good, crisp snap roll, and I hope he peed himself watching it.
She waited, without saying a word, for Rick to respond. He was silent again for a while, and then simply said, “No loops. Follow me.”
His sub clawed at the air and flung itself forward, and Edie grabbed the throttle and fell into formation just behind and to the side of him, taking pains to do it smoothly and reassuringly.
The endless, unvarying sea beneath them screamed by.
