Nearly two months into the academic year, Mark's weekends settled into a loose routine. For Saturday mornings, he'd take his laundry for cleaning and work on homework while waiting for its completion. Following lunch, he'd dive into virtual reality where he spent approximately two hours in Parallax Gate. The remaining afternoon time he had was allocated to finishing homework or studying at the engineering library. After this study session, he would meet with Ivan and their friends for dinner before spending the evening with recreational activities.
This day, the three hour Opulence escort mission consumed more of his afternoon than originally planned. Though much of that time involved uneventful travel across several systems, watching Ivan drunk on the power of his digital destroyer allowed Mark to log off the extended session satisfied. With his tablet and other belongings packed, Mark put his jacket and shoes on for his walk to the library. Before leaving, he glanced at Ivan, still in PG managing skill trials for new org applicants.
Building 10, the original heart of the MIT campus, bore one of the campus's most recognizable landmarks, a great white dome one hundred meters in diameter known simply as the Great Dome. A ten minute walk from their dormitory building, the Barker Engineering Library resided on the fifth through eight floors of Building 10, with its study areas directly underneath the enormous monument. As always, Mark passed by the deserted book circulation counter and strode across carpeted halls to his preferred study area on the eighth floor.
As he paced through the carpeted halls, crossing stacks of old books and journals, Mark embraced the solitude of the space. With the breakneck expansion of the internet in the early twenty-first century, a student's need to physically visit a library dwindled. Following completion of book digitization at libraries two decades later, that need vanished entirely, and with the advent of virtual reality, the library itself was copied into digital space. Most people now questioned the need to maintain physical libraries, but because student recreation occupied most public spaces on Saturday afternoons, the library remained one of few places Mark could find the atmosphere he desired for a study session.
“Mark Asami,” a voice called out. Though its volume remained low, its sound projected across the near deserted study hall. “I knew your style was old-school, but I never thought it was old enough to step inside a library.” Standing at a table of four was Albert Kristoff, Mark's only high school classmate attending MIT. Though previously acquainted, their diverging major selection limited their meetings on campus.
“Albert,” Mark said, “what brings you here?”
“Studying of course,” Albert grinned as he walked over. “Classes here are nothing like what we got back in Edison. We actually have to study, not just memorize whatever the teacher puts on the board.”
“You can say that again. I'm actually here every week,” Mark said. “Its one of the better places to get work done on weekends.”
“Right, I need to get back to work, or the guys will ditch me. We're going over our chemistry notes for an exam Monday. But let's hang out sometime.”
“Sure,” Mark said, “text me whenever.”
“Later then,” Albert turned back to his group.
Mark continued on to his usual seat, located by a window overlooking the neighboring courtyard. Tablet before him, Mark began his own review session, focused on the past week's biology coursework. Biology was furthest removed from his own interests, and only through removing potential distractions could Mark properly review its contents. As his notes, diagrams, and electronic textbooks danced through his mind, Mark steadily organized and internalize the myriad of concepts and functional players involved in DNA transcription and gene expression.
When an hour passed, ennui overcame him, and Mark switched subjects and elected to read ahead in his physics text. With the discipline parent to aerospace, Mark found its contents far more fascinating, and his second hour at the library passed swiftly compared to the first. At precisely six o'clock, a message arrived from Ivan, carrying suggestions for dinner plans.
----------------------------------------
That evening, the Wraiths' pilots began their training for manual gate navigation in preparation for their exploration trip to store away the Phantasm. Gathered in their base simulation room, they crashed again and again into the simulated vortex walls of familiar gates. Despite witnessing countless automated traversals, none of the pilots managed greater than a twenty-five percent success rate under manual control. Long considered the ultimate test of piloting skills Parallax Gate, the task struck a severe blow to their hotshot egos.
“You sure you don't want a plasma rifle?” Legius asked. “They hurt more you know. Melts the skin right off of bodies.”
You'd think Alf would learn by now…
From the lounge, Legs and Aero sat watching their attempts. The three displays split into views of twelve pilot-view simulator screens. Half of the views replayed wreck after wreck, proudly displaying 'You Are Dead' on the screen.
“Well we can't afford the million credits for each crash outside of sims,” Aero said. “Those ultra-maneuverable gate diver ships might just be a collection of generators and thrusters, but they're still high performance craft and not cheap at all to acquire. Unless you think you can manually traverse in something slower, you guys have to practice until you success rate is at least fifty percent.”
Nova said.
“Speaking of which,” Aero said, “April mentioned her own success rate was about forty-five percent. Maybe we should have her try diving.”
“She did spend about two months with an exploration org,” Aero said. “By her opinion, gate diving and dogfighting have totally different skill sets.”
“I'm not sure about the others, but I have to find the right system to start our exploration,” Aero said. “If we're finding our own private system, it might as well be where we start our dominion. Though we decided the region a while back, Sinn never made a final decision on where to go.”
“You seem to be just watching and enjoying their failures Aero,” Legs said.
Alf said.
“Well it does look like you guys need a lot more practice at this,” Aero said.
Mayto said,
Nova said.
“That sounds promising,” Aero said. On the display control terminal, Aero expanded the view mirroring Nova's simulator. Lets have a look.
Because each gate had a unique structure, most guides suggested pilots practice on randomized gates each time so that they did not develop habits based on the path of any specific gate. Likewise, Nova's simulator presented her one of hundreds of known and computer navigable gates.
Mayto stepped into the lounge. “So how are the others doing?”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“As expected I guess.” Aero said. “Nova's on the big screen now.”
Piloting a Trident class gate diver, Nova drifted towards the simulated gate, with the camera following from a third person viewpoint. Rather than approach at a cruising burn, as the automated traversal would, she allowed the gravity of the gate itself to draw the craft forward, while she used reverse thrust to slow her approach. Growing at half the usual rate, the ebony sphere gradually engulfed her view.
“Looks normal so far,” Mayto said.
The jet black void transitioned to a cyan whirlpool. With its first curve, a downward drop, imminent, Nova rolled the Trident along the tunnel wall, inverting her orientation as she pulled the craft into the turn.
As she leveled the ship, a smooth curve approached, angled left with a slight descent. Again, Nova rolled along the wall and pointed the ship's nose up into the turn.
The curve's angle increased steadily, and with it, the limit of a pilot's vision shrank.
“Now things get interesting,” Mayto said.
The winding tunnel gave way to a sharp right. Nova pushed the diver through the sudden turn.
Before she centered the craft, another downward curve appeared. Nova flipped her ship and forced it into a high-g turn.
The next obstacle appeared in a second, an extreme rightward curve. The Trident spun over and pushed forward, inches away from destruction.
Before Nova pulled away from the gate's inner surface, the path shifted left. Though Nova turned the Trident in the right direction, its tail rotated into the vortex wall, and the ship tumbled to its demise.
“She's doing quite well,” Mayto said. “That was probably the last obstacle considering how long she lasted.”
“It's not very forgiving is it?” Aero asked.
“Not at all,” Mayto sighed, “and the turns which transition into curved paths in an instant are the worst. Each obstacle alone is fine, but once you miss the timing, you start the next turn off center, and every mistake slowly adds up until you're out of position for the turn that kills you.”
“So a nav computer can manage every turn with perfect timing, even in a destroyer,” Aero said, “but the milliseconds of delay from human reaction time make manual traversal difficult, especially when the near and far walls are almost indistinguishable.”
"Exactly," Mayto said.
The other screens showed that most the pilots dying similar deaths.
“Hey guys,” Aero said, “it might be good to take a break. Most of you have been going for two hours already. Why don't we meet in the lounge and exchange any tips you might have figured out.”
A minute later, the ace pilots wobbled their way into the lounge.
“I'm starting to see why nav data for private systems costs so much,” Mayto said.
“And why exploration orgs hate PG nav data release mechanics,” Ecks sighed.
“How much practice do you think exploration orgs do for this?” Paws asked.
“About as much as we practice in combat I'd assume,” Legs said.
At that moment, Sinn and Myles stepped in. "What happened to gate diving practice?” Sinn asked.
“I suggested they take a break,” Aero said.
“Is it that difficult?” Myles asked.
“My success rate's still at thirty percent,” Nova said.
“Damn, doesn’t look that difficult,” Myles said.
“Try it,” Ecks said. “You'll be surprised.”
“Alright,” Myles said. “Let me fire up a sim then.” He turned around and strode off to the simulator room.
“I gotta see this,” Alf said. “He's gonna fail so hard.”
“Calm down, he's not that bad at piloting single-seat ships,” Aero said.
“Should be interesting,” Ice said.
“Oh come on, it'll be hilarious.” Ecks said.
“It's really that hard?” Sinn asked.
“Uh, guys? He's starting now,” Nova said.
The lounge display switched from its idle screen to Myles's gate diving simulation. With the simulated gate in the background, Myles's ship materialized and set course for the gate. Several Wraiths snorted and snickered in a failed attempt to suppress their mirth. Chuckles soon evolved into roars of laughter as Myles accelerated.
“Oh my god, he's using a frigate.” Out of breath and wheezing, Mayto clutched his abdomen.
“Did he read the guides at all?” Paws asked. “There's no way he can maneuver with that.”
Engines at full, the Aoshima class frigate raced into the abyss.
“Seriously, he's going full throttle?” Ecks asked. “He's going to crash on the first curve.”
“Aero,” Ice said, “a bridge view please?”
“You got it,” Aero said. A few console commands later, the second display revealed the simulated bridge, with Myles seated in the captain's chair. Hmm… I've never actually seen Myles command a ship before. I wonder how he'll do.
“Damn, he's going nav computer speed,” Mayto said.
The gate's first obstacle was an approaching left turn.
The frigate rolled onto its left, and as it approached the turn, pulled its nose upward until it faced the turn slightly backwards.
Legs whistled in admiration. “Wow, he actually made it.”
The frigate approached a rightward curve.
With a slight reorientation, the Aoshima slipped into the curve dead center.
“Holy shit, he's actually doing it.” Alf said
The frigate rolled into a descending turn, then smoothly transitioned into a leftward curve.
“This can't be real,” Ecks shook his head.
“Its like he's seeing into the future,” Nova added.
Eight players stared in awe as the frigate rolled and twisted its way through the gate. The pace of Myles's instructions rose with each passing second, yet with each passing obstacle, the frigate stayed centered on course. As each turn approached before his frigate, Myles instructed his helmsman to roll the ship and point it at the correct angle with exact timing. For a frigate, half a second of accumulated delay led to failure, but not a single command led the ship astray. After two minutes passed, the frigate emerged on the other side.
“How the hell did you manage that!?” Legs asked.
“That had to be a fluke,” Alf said. “Do it again.”
As the simulation restarted, Ecks pulled out his own terminal and began typing several commands.
“You're recording this Eckos?” Sinn asked.
“And posting it on the forums,” Ecks said. “There's no way this doesn't go viral.”
The eight watched in silence as Myles repeated the prior feat. Again, the Aoshima emerged on the other side without even approaching the gate's boundaries.
“Unfortunately,” Aero said, “I don't think we can risk our frigates on this Myles. How about you try with one of the gate divers next?” We'd rather sacrifice five gate divers than lose a frigate after all.
Selecting a Nautilus class diver, Myles accelerated towards the simulated gate. The jet black mass swallowed the ship, and a cyan vortex appeared in view.
The Trident rolled into the vortex wall and exploded. Eight Wraiths stared at the display in disbelief. Half a minute passed before anyone uttered a word.
“He flew straight into the wall that time.” Alf said.
“I guess being familiar with the ship also matters a lot…” Paws said.
Nova stood and headed to the door. “I'm trying with a Viper next.”
“Yeah, me too”
“Time to use the Rattler.”
“Same.”
“Let's do this.”
Invigorated, or perhaps shamed, by Myles's unexpected performance, the remaining five pilots filed out of the lounge.