Chapter 11 – Guilt
Although my brain still insisted on connecting the golden sunset to the end of the day, the reality was that the clock hadn’t even reached noon. The perpetual twilight, once a fantasy, now grated on my nerves, adding a surreal sense of limbo to each hour.
We watched from an elevated walkway, our arms crossed in a mix of expectation and idleness, while Hammerstar’s machinery performed Peregrina’s maneuvers. A symphony of steel and gears that masterfully handled the heavy work.
Meanwhile, Cirakari, seizing the moment of tranquility, decided to update us on the intrigues and conspiracies bubbling behind the scenes.
“...and then, I called Grand Admiral Baraka and explained the whole situation,” she concluded.
“What magnificent sons of bitches,” Gulliver added, with his traditional grace.
“And how did Baraka react?” I asked.
Cirakari faked a laugh and shook her head. “He told me to close the deal, said it was better to have ammunition in Fillandril than no ammunition at all.”
“And what about the rest of the Admiralty?” I continued asking. I didn’t understand anything about Vielovento’s geopolitics, but I wanted to help somehow. “Have they learned about these parallel negotiations?”
“The Admiralty is composed of five nations,” she began explaining. “Xīn Tiāntáng is the largest and most influential, then comes Lilone and Delcroix, both democracies with significant military might. The other two nations with seats in the Admiralty are there for strategic reasons; Fillandril because of our academies and traditionalism in space combat, and Uzoil because of their orbital shipyards—they built the Broodmother.”
“Right... But that doesn’t really answer my question,” I said, as she implied there should be some pattern to understand in the explanation.
“They must already be negotiating with Xīn Tiāntáng,” Tài intervened. “Grand Admiral Lánhuā must have ordered them to clean out their stocks.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Cirakari dismissed Tài’s alarm. “They might be looking for a big shark in the deal, but I think it’s much more likely they’ve approached Grand Admiral Drika...”
“I don’t remember her,” I interrupted.
“Drika is the Admiral representing Uzoil,” she added. “The city-state of Uzoil is strategic, stable, and has the capability to rebuild our fleet if the Alliance manages to lose it.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I tried to follow the logic. “They told you they’re interested in winning the war, and they’re going to do that by allying with two city-states that can barely form a flotilla?” I had recently learned the term meant a small group of light vessels.
“They’re businesspeople. For them, everything comes down to risk versus return on investment,” she said, turning away from the machines working in the background. “According to Baraka, they’re betting on a scenario where both fleets, the Alliance’s and the Overseers’, mutually destroy each other. If that happens, they’ll have secured an alliance with Fillandril and Uzoil, the two nations capable of rebuilding the Alliance Fleet, or whatever takes the power vacuum left by it.”
“You already know what I think,” Gulliver threw in with his classic know-it-all face.
“I swear if you talk about surrendering again, I’ll lock you outside the ship and use you for armor,” Cirakari said, serious and frowning. Everyone started laughing while I stood there, lost to the joke.
“Actually, I was going to say it’s already lunch time and the Hammerstar folks are just stalling.”
“True...” said Cirakari, checking her watch and doing some mental calculation. “Well, let’s have lunch then, in the afternoon we’ll dismantle the airlock chamber and load all this junk.”
We walked to the cafeteria, which was located next to the hangar. As we settled in, the engines of the tower supporting the Peregrina came to life with a roar, vibrating with a vigorous hum. Unlike the traditional diesel engines still used in heavy machinery on Earth, electric motors predominated here. Petroleum had never formed on Vielovento’s once sterile surface.
“They must be doing this just to mess with us...” Gulliver said with his mouth full.
✹✸✶✸✹
With our bellies full and the clock marking mid-afternoon, Tài and I prepared for the next step of the operation: dismantling Peregrina’s airlock chamber. I felt the weight of the rappelling equipment on my back, a familiar sensation that reminded me of the climbing I used to do on Earth. Vielovento’s gravity was friendlier than Earth’s, but still required caution and precision.
“Ready, Fred?” Tài asked, already beginning his descent.
“Always ready,” I replied, giving one last pull on the ropes to ensure they were well secured. “Let’s go.”
We descended to the middle of the ship, which was still in vertical position. In an analogy with the human body, the decompression chamber would be at navel height. It was a robust piece, designed to withstand atmospheric pressures and space temperature variations.
Cirakari and Gulliver were already positioned inside the ship, ready to operate the controls that would release the internal latches. It was a boring, time-consuming, and procedural job. The piece weighed more than half a ton and had connections to various pneumatic, hydraulic, and electrical systems of the ship.
“Everything’s ready in here,” I heard Cirakari’s voice through the radio. “Gulliver is checking the last sensors.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Great,” I said, looking up where the Hammerstar operators were positioning the cranes to capture the chamber once it was released.
“You can start loosening, Fred,” she said.
I instructed Tài about which bolts and in what order I needed him to loosen. Meanwhile, I worked with the external pneumatic connections, investing long minutes in this seemingly simple task.
After the initial disassembly, I entered the chamber and, with help from Gulliver on the inside and Tài on the outside, completed the dismantling. Like the previous day's landing, my knowledge of the airlock chamber's disassembly came solely from Dr. Xuefeng's theoretical classes. Obviously, it wasn’t possible to land the ship or open the airlock in orbit.
“We’re ready, the chamber is loose,” I announced over the radio.
The Hammerstar crane lowered to the chamber’s level, and Tài secured the hooks from the outside. I stayed inside, making final adjustments as they moved it outward, then exited and waited outside, suspended by the rappelling rope.
“3, 2, ...” a countdown came through the radio.
The chamber began to detach slowly, and I felt sweat running down my forehead under the helmet. I held tight to the rope, guiding the chamber’s descent with careful movements, while Tài did the same from the other side.
“Perfect, Fred. Everything’s disconnected in here,” said Cirakari, with a calm and controlled voice. “Good job, team!” she finished when the chamber came out completely.
“Tonight I’m buying a round for you all,” Cirakari promised. “By local time it’s still Sunday,” she finished with a laugh.
The operation was a success, and despite the heat and effort, I felt genuine satisfaction. I was looking for a place to rest inside Peregrina while the Hammerstar personnel would finish the loading. That’s when my satisfaction went down the drain.
“Fred,” Cirakari called me. “Now that everything’s done here, you can do that inspection on the heatsink, we won’t take off until we resolve this.”
I stood up, contemplating the work ahead. But I already knew the answer, I would just be delaying the inevitable, or worse, looking for someone to blame. The great truth was that I had made a mistake, and had very nearly killed the entire crew.
“Cira...” I stammered. “I gave a second thought about the simulation results, I don’t think the physical inspection will bring much new information.”
“But you have a verdict then? How do we solve the problem?” she asked anxiously.
“I...” I stammered again. “I think I screwed up.”
Her expression transformed from restlessness to disbelief faster than the chain reaction of a nuclear bomb. “What the fuck, Fred,” she said, now with notes of anger too. “You thought stalling and acting like this wasn’t your problem was a solution?”
“It’s just that I...” I tried to explain.
“Fucking no! It was just nothing!” She shouted so loud that even the Hammerstar people stopped to listen. “I talked about this shit with Baraka today,” she reduced her tone to a whisper. “Told him about the suspicion of sabotage and said that the fucking colonist I had put in as engineer was working on it.”
I was stunned, I expected a scolding, but not like this. I stayed quiet; if there was anything I learned about military life from movies, it’s that you don’t contradict an enraged superior. She paced back and forth in the tiny space, practically walking in place.
“Are you absolutely certain this was your mistake?”
When she put it that way, I noticed that I couldn’t state with absolute certainty that it was my error. “No, it could have been a problem with the ship’s software too, or there might actually be something in the physical inspection.”
“Alright...” She said, running her hand along her chin. “Go down there, open everything that needs to be opened and check every square inch of piping. You’re not coming out until you’re absolutely certain the mistake was yours. Understood?”
“Yes, commander,” I replied, head down. “And regarding the software analysis?”
“I’ll ask someone to run an analysis from the Broodmother.”
“Understood, I’ll start then,” I said while pointing to go down the stairs.
“Fred...” she interrupted me. “I know you’re not military, and you didn’t even want to be here, I’m the one who dragged you in,” she covered her face while trying to regain her composure. “But you’re not in college or graduate school anymore. If you made, or think you made, a mistake, I’m the first person to know.”
“Understood.”
“There’s no problem in making mistakes, we all do, but hiding this? It’s reckless, and it endangers every one of us. There’s a lot of shit happening in high command because of this error of yours.”
I was tired of repeating “understood,” nodded my head and continued the descent. I leaned on the rear bulkhead and started loosening the bolts. I was immersed in a spiral of anger and shame about what had just happened. I indeed didn’t want to be there, but once the challenge had been accepted, I could never accept failure.
I started carrying the aluminum plates; in Vielovento’s gravity, this was much harder than in its absence in orbit. Tài noticed my effort and came to help.
“Relax, man,” he said with an empathetic smile. “You never forget your first dressing down. Especially if it’s from Cira.”
I don’t know how, but he managed to make me laugh. “Thanks. But I won’t let this happen again.”
“Good thing you’re on a Fillandril ship, if this was Xīn Tiāntáng you’d be screwed,” he said, taking the plate and carrying it to the side.
“Is Xīn Tiāntáng that bad?” I was intrigued. Tài was Tiāntángren, but he was also always the first to throw stones at his country.
He sighed, shaking his head as if weighing the answer. “Actually no, quite the opposite, if you look at crime rates and development indices you’ll see that Xīn Tiāntáng is one of the best countries in Vielovento,” he said, suddenly with a glimmer of pride and patriotism in his eyes. “A defensive mindset had always been part of my people’s identity; we never attacked, only protected what was ours," he added, with pride.
“But why do you...”
“Since early on I always felt like a foreigner,” he cut me off. “My father was military, and my whole family wanted me to follow that career too. I never wanted to, but when rumors of the Alliance started, I thought it would be an opportunity to make my parents proud and at the same time experience different cultures. As soon as I joined, I demanded not to be allocated to any Xīn Tiāntáng ship, went through about three until I landed on Peregrina.”
“Wow, it must be tough for you having to serve on a ship from another nation,” I commented, feeling sympathy for his situation. Although, my nation was from 150 years ago and probably didn’t exist anymore.
“Not really, I like Peregrina a lot, and among all foreign nations, Fillandril is the one I sympathize with most...” he paused, as if remembering some detail. “At least in Fillandril you can almost blow up your crew, spend the whole day lying to the commander, make her look like a fool to the Admiralty and still keep your head attached to your body,” he said, holding back laughter. I wanted to feel sad, but seeing him holding back laughter was something uncontrollable, we burst out laughing.
I continued working, Tài helped me for a while, but soon after Cirakari called him for other activities. Night arrived—according to the clock at least—with that damned sunset still staring at me, beautiful, perfect, but irritating and unbearable after almost twenty-four hours.
The crew went out drinking for the night, Cirakari insisted that I go too, she said it would be good for morale. I remained enclosed within Peregrina’s entrails, swearing to myself I would only leave when I was absolutely certain the ship was safe for takeoff.
The crew returned and went to sleep in the Hammerstar quarters. I worked for a few more hours, reassembling everything, checking three times as Dr. Xuefeng taught. Exhausted, with the path to the quarters seeming impossibly long, I slept right there on Peregrina's rear bulkhead. Where it all began.