[20 minute read: sleep deprived space cadet’s nightmare of a first mission]
The vessel’s cabin looked the same, clouded viewports, empty table, but the gravity was off. It should have been the full planetary pull from the stake out, but instead micro-gravity triggered Nanjiani. It made sense to dream of this weird camper, and the academy conglomerate’s microgravity dominated recent experience; yet having detected the seam, lucidity persisted. A brief glance to the control panel confirmed Marlyn was not present in the dream. As if appearing in Nanjiani’s dream would rob the waking world it’s inhabitants.
Looking out a viewport showed three blurry forms chatting in front of the academy barracks. Judging by size, the third had to be Laika, which implied the others were Marlyn and Nanjiani . That conversation had not gone well. It was standard for cadets to try and infer each other’s grad missions. Despite age Laika had earned a seat at that table. Unfortunate that her guesses were so accurate, even before they had let hints slip through. Laika signed ‘Dreams are free’ and turned to enter the barracks. That’s how well their intrigue had been … Not even a waste of breath to the non-committal answer.
Nanjiani sighed, picked up the key from the table, and stowed it in his side pocket so that he would find it as he entered the barracks. From across the table Marlyn inquired if that was how they’d stolen it in the first place. Lucidity snapped back. Why would anything he do effect this past self. Yet even still, dream Nanjiani walked through the barracks gate patting pockets. Marlyn nodded to the control panel, calling out motion the panels didn’t show.
Planet-side gravity hit as Nanjiani snapped awake. Marlyn’s last words had broken through into the dream. The monitors showed the dark alley they had been sent to monitor. Two uniforms emerged from a small door to their left, trailed by a medium sized cargo container. The viewports were too aged to show anything useful, so the monitors were the only way to watch. Nanjiani checked all the equipment was recording. The two slunk down the dingy alley. Many thugs picked up black market uniforms to hide behind … The academy fought a losing battle to regulate them. One thug turned a helmet momentarily towards the camper in the line of small parked ships, but continued towards the handover point.
As the two thugs reached the entrance way to the alley, a diminutive figure passed in front of them. A slight pause. Unheard handshake protocols. The container followed the lone figure, moving beyond view. Handover complete, the two thugs turned around to return. Nanjiani was frustrated … Laika’s presence lowered the likelihood that they were on a live mission. The two thugs were most of the way back to there service entrance, about parallel with the camper, when one through up a blast shield.
The blast shield deployed just in time to deflect a string of shots from the doorway they had come from. Nanjiani realized what was about to happen just in time. Smashing the main breaker to kill the monitors and lighting he pulled Marlyn under the table, hoping the thugs would assume the vessel was uninhabited. Light streamed in through the door as the thugs barreled in. One sprinted for the cockpit to launch as the other jumped to the console to control the lone turret to return fire. As they launched into orbit, Nanjiani signed the plan. The hull shook several times as the campers ancient shielding absorbed shots, but by the time the atmosphere thinned enough to stop the turret gun Nanjiani and Marlyn were in place. The pilot floated through to check on the gunner just in time to see them brace within reach of the airlock and hit the twin safeties.
The negative pressure extracted the floating pilot easily. The gunner however managed to hold on to the console for the initial depressurization blast. As the vacuum stabilized in the cabin, reached a glove to his boots to activate them. Nanjiani drew a sidearm and pointed it at the gunner. The sidearm would be just as ineffective in the vacuum as the turret. It was a cheap trick, but it succeeded. The thug disappeared, probably still screaming in comms for warp extraction.
The airlock closed and air started to stream back into the room. Nanjiani unbraced his legs and breathed a sigh of relief. Marlyn mused surprise that the thugs hadn’t ordered retreat as soon as they were clear of the planet-side warp scrambler. It was strange, but not as strange as someone attacking a staged grad mission. It all clicked into place. Central had picked a new operative, and wanted to have full coverage of the show. Fine, let Laika have the live mission. Nanjiani swung himself over to the terminal and sulked their report in. It galled having the prize opportunity go to a candidate with half their years. Even under the old training regime, Laika would have been too young to enroll at the academy.
Marlyn pulled himself over to the bunk, it would take a couple of hours for Central Command to reply and it made sense that one of them get rest … on the small chance that the response contained a follow up mission. It seemed the panel had already decided the two of them where cannon fodder, not to be trusted with the autonomy of complex assignments, not worth fully testing. Nanjiani took the key from its pocket and hurled it across the cabin in frustration. It had made so much sense: finding a planted key; Searching through the abandoned campers on the academy grounds to find one it activated; It had the feel of a live mission; The lettering and the side of the ship, the dream catcher over the console, it had seemed too over the top, but no … the HypnoCron was a sad scrap ship, abandoned when its owner found either success or failure.
It was a tempting narrative. It explained Laika’s involvement, their petty observation mission, only getting drawn into excitement because of the attack on the thugs, but it failed to explain why the key had appeared in Nanjiani’s pocket. It seemed egotistical to think they were a bigger part of the game being played, but they were certainly being treated as someone’s pawns.
The terminal lit up with a response from central. A response that quick, despite the number of grad missions ongoing, meant the operation was getting prime time. So … it was someone’s live mission then. Nanjiani almost swore when he read the reply … it seemed Central needed someone to throw under the bus.
Nanjiani considered waking Marlyn, but at their current deprivation levels, it was useful to complete each sleep cycle if possible. There would be plenty of time for them both to rest and plan before the requested intervention. Nanjiani made the necessary adjustments to deorbit at the handover around when Marlyn would wake.
Some time passed. Nanjiani made little progress on deciphering what was happening, or who they could trust. For now it was safest to follow orders from Command, but stay wary of Laika … The orphan had a tendency to outmaneuver even Nanjiani. They approached the de-orbit location. The various preparations failed to wake Marlyn. Command demanded agents who could function on low sleep, and the approach to their graduation missions ensured they would be tested accordingly.
They were still hours short of any action, so there was no need to rouse the sleeper. Descend was efficient, if graceless, and soon the camper was gliding towards the storage depot. Finding a gap in a row of derelict ships with a good view of the bulkhead entrance, Nanjiani settled the HypnoCron, and tuned down all the gear to make it blend with its surroundings. The area had low levels of traffic. Enough that there appearance would soon fade into background, and that a couple of uniforms escorting a cargo container would go unnoticed. To ensure the monitors still had enough sensitivity, Nanjiani focused in on someone leaving the bulkhead door. With the low pressure of the depot behind, the figure removed their helmet. Proceeding to a hanger not far away, the figure palmed panel and entered the large doors. Almost laughing, Nanjiani set the onboard compute to processing the various low-res facial angles it captured. Very considerate to walk 50 meters without a helmet. Laughter died. Facial reconstruction in these cases was not perfect, but the resemblance to Nanjiani was uncanny … even if the age was out. Someone was definitely playing them for a game.
After ensuring the turret had an angle on the hanger, and checking the log time, Nanjiani set to work waking Marlyn and explained the next phase in their mission. They were to intercept the cold drop of the same container they surveyed earlier. No need to mention how quick the instructions had come … Maintaining information asymmetry was instinctive … and it was was that information that set them up as patsies. Marlyn seemed mollified, the depot would be depressurized for inert storage, with the bulkhead being the main entrance and exit. They had been granted access to retrieve the unattended cargo, there would be a short time between the cold drop and the pickup, sufficient for minor complications but nothing further. Nanjiani checked the time, and decided that whatever came, a extra cycle of sleep was worth the risk of trusting Marlyn while he slept. Finishing handover, and swinging over to the bunk, Nanjiani set a timer and quickly lapsed into sleep.
Nanjiani had had lucid dreams before, but two strongly lucid dreams in a row was unusual. Across the sparse store stood Marlyn, and between them the cargo container. No entrences or exits from the room other than the big door in front of them. A ping hit Nanjiani’s communicator, a message from Marlyn to deliver the payload. Strange, Marlyn hadn’t moved. Nanjiani nodded towards the door, and started the container moving. As they moved through the doorway, he tried to remember how they had acquired the container. The memory of lying in wait at the supply depot almost destabilized the dream … Worrying that he might wake, Nanjiani let that line of thought drift on. They had the cargo and needed to hand it over. Down the dingy street they continued. A brief glance at the HypnoCron where it waited for them to escape. At the end, Laika passed in front of them. A brief exchange over short range comms. Her laughter and them not knowing the date. Marlyn assigned the container to her, and it drifted after her as she walked on.
Handover complete. Great. They headed back towards their extraction point. A destabilizing thought skittered across lucidity. Was their extraction at the storage room, or the camper. Nanjiani looked at the storage room. The door was swinging open. Strange … No other entrance to the room, and no way to warp in … How had … ? Memory clicked in to place. Nanjiani threw up a blast shield just in time for the hail of blasts that came streaming impossibly out of the door. Diving backwards, the cabin of the HypnoCron surrounded Nanjiani. Waving for Marlyn to get them to orbit, and rolling into the gunner seat, Nanjiani returned fire. Even knowing what was about to happen, there was to much to do. Stabilizing shields, priming the atmosphere, focusing fire on the doorway, by the time Nanjiani was ready to deal with the two stowaways, it was too late … The airlock whipped open … A body jostled past … An iron grip on the turret controls kept Nanjiani in the vehicle. He reached down for to activate his boot magnets, looked down a barrel to a smug self portrait, and screamed for it all to stop. That it was a bluff was immaterial, Nanjiani could see the weapon wasn’t charging up despite the finger on the trigger. The insanity of what was happening was too much though. The moment stretched, staring down that barrel. Everything hung. No movement of air inside Nanjiani’s helmet, no shifting of inertia. Eyes stuck on the sidearm, as a moment became minutes, and minutes became more. Finally an alarm broke through the frieze. Gravity snapped back as and awareness slid into a body outside the supply depot.
Nanjiani lay there for a moment, enjoying times flow, deciding whether there would be any value in sharing the dream. If true, let Marlyn let more slip by sharing first; if false, then nothing to be gained. Having decided, Nanjiani swung over to check on the monitors. The pair briefly discussed their plan: use provided access, get in, get cargo from container, get back, get home. No atmosphere meant relative safety within the depot, but they needed to be prepared for anything between the bulkhead and the camper. Nanjiani checked his blast shield was still stowed in its location on his uniform.
A small vessel arrived, hovering while a small uniform disembarked with the cargo container. Laika palmed the cargo through the bulkhead, and returned alone a couple of minutes later, leaving in the small vessel. Nanjiani checked the time. On schedule. They had an hour before the cold drop was collected. Having watched the small vessel leave the long range sensors they exited HypnoCron and proceeded to the depot. Marlyn was able to palm them in as per the instructions, and they stood in the airlock for a moment while the atmosphere was pumped out. The interior of the depot was quiet as expected and the container where it should be.
Nanjiani took a glove off and palmed the container open. As the door swung open they found themselves looking down the barrels of two sidearms. Laika laughed over the short range comms. It was a credible bluff, but Nanjiani didn’t have patience for delays. He put his palm to the sidearm to press Laika aside, but stopped dead when he felt the hum of the weapon charging up. Impossible, with no atmosphere the mechanism couldn’t … It didn’t matter … Drenched by a cold sweat, Nanjiani inquired what Laika wanted.
Laika revealed she just wanted to see what they were up to in their salvaged camper. Now that she had what she wanted, they could continue their futile mission. And with that Laika blinked out. Impossible, Nanjiani was beyond suspicious of the warp scrambler … Bigger problems drove the worries away. The container Laika had been blocking was empty. Nanjiani wiped the sweat off his hand, and put the glove back on. Marlyn reached inside and picked up a small onyx fox he’d missed, commenting on how nice it was for Laika to leave it for them. Nanjiani grunted and turned towards the exit, barely checking Marlyn was bringing the fox.
Nanjiani rushed into the airlock, and looked through the small port hole towards where they had landed. It was as he had feared, Laika had stolen the HypnoCron while they were inside. Marlyn arrived, noticed the missing camper, and paused to think. Eventually he asked about Nanjiani’s recent dreams. While they were waiting they both had a sleep cycle. In Marlyn’s dream, Nanjiani had acquired the keys for the HypnoCron. If indeed the camper allows time travel in sleep, then its possible its missing because one of them came from the future to hide it from Laika. If that were true they probably would have left a hint. The implication was clear … had Nanjiani seen anything that would be a hint from a future self. It did answer the biggest question. Nodding and palming the external door open, Nanjiani led them to the hanger the doppelganger had gone into, and palmed the interface. The door responded. The camper sat inside, with the turret pointed at the door, Nanjiani threw up the blast shield, then … when the vessel hadn’t opened fire … keyed it open. They cautiously approached, stowing the blast shield only once they had entered and found the camper empty. After a thorough search. Nanjiani settled at console, and took control of the turret, waving Marlyn through to the cockpit, suggesting a shortest route back to the academy.
While they climbed to orbit, Nanjiani left the console, activated magnetic boots, and re-positioned. Shortly Marlyn floated through, arching an eyebrow at the empty console, and asked how they would get past any complications without a gunner. Leaning against the wall, and coughing slightly to hid the haptic click, Nanjiani posed the more pressing question: how had one dream led Marlyn to the conclusion of time travel. It was a huge leap to tie to a small piece of information. Marlyn raised open hands and shrugged. Apparently the trigger had been thinking about how the academy had assigned three cadets to a live missions. It was rare to get even one in a class. He had been thinking about it since Nanjiani had mentioned the turn around time on their follow up orders. Almost. Last question: What else had Marlyn’s future self warned about. The momentary glance at the airlock button Nanjiani was leaning against was all the warning needed. Before Marlyn had finished drawing a sidearm, the undeployed blast shield bounced off the second airlock button.
The decompressive blast cleared and, after a moment the airlock closed, leaving Nanjiani in need of a tactful mission report. HypnoCron appeared to be in a stable orbit, so after setting up proximity alarms, Nanjiani fired up the console: Mission successful; Fox lost in space; as stated, you got what you needed. Almost immediately, a response chimed … a single question mark. Nanjiani typed a reply but did not hit send: will explain if you show yourself.
A laugh sounded from the cockpit; Laika came through.
‘So explain.’
Even though Nanjiani had been sure, it was still unnerving.
‘You flaunt weapons that work when they shouldn’t, you left the depot impossibly with nothing but my sweat on your sidearm. You clearly have access to tech no one other than an operative would. Even though I don’t understand how at your age, your entire studies have clearly been a recruitment drive, so you must have been listening in on Central Command the whole time.’
‘I do have an interesting relationship with time. All this was enough to make you jettison Marlyn into the cold of space?’
‘Also, you did not steal the ship, so all you took from our failed heist was my sweat … I assume you also took Marlyn’s DNA from the bulkhead palm reader. Whatever crime it was you were checking us for, it wasn’t me. I don’t know how you broke physics, but given your control and information of Command, I assume yours is the only opinion I need to win here.’
‘So You believe this ship enables time travel, yet you think I would only need your DNA to test for past crimes … despite your logic’s flaws at almost every step, you have arrived at workable conclusions. Few know what I am, and not many of those trust me as implicitly as you just did … so you’re in, congratulations … I have erased all digital traces of you, orders will follow …
‘… also the DNA test was positive, say “Hi” to Mom when you meet her’