Fantasia
06 Sep 2017Evgeniya Asimova
Evgeniya arrived in Can Qing and piloted toward William Sargeant Hub. The space-station was dark, an infernal mill spinning in space like the top of a pepper grinder, huge and durable and adamantine. It was a blotch on the pure landscape of space, yet magnificent too. Her ship straightened its course and slowed under the flash of the mint-green circle of beacons, and was swallowed by the wide slit in the centre of the space-station's side. It was good see the familiar scene of the massive landing hall, and she pulled her ship down with her usual verve, although a touch of impatience caused her to bump the ship lightly on the centre of the landing pad. She was back in the the Bubble, in that tiny portion of the galaxy where humans thronged like rats in a sewer, where they lived their make-believe lives of grand significance, always threatening to spread like vermin or eat each other alive. The strength of the station surrounded her, she heard human voices and saw people, the spice of human life, and she was glad. She was home.Deep in the heart of the station, Evgeniya lived in a spacious apartment with her two servants. She soon settled back into a more banal routine, and spent the following days recovering from her time in space and finding out what had happened during her absence. She planned on hitting the Gen-Sim for a few days to take her mind off her most recent experiences in the ink. Gen-Sims were what we would call virtual games, and were so incredibly lifelike that the player could very often struggle to distinguish reality from simulation, especially after a long session. There were all kinds of different sims. They could be complicated narratives set at different times in human history, where one could take on different roles such as a general leading an army or a spy on a mission, or other things even more bizarre and disgusting. One particularly popular was the 'Commander Sim', which was used by people who could not afford their own spaceship so that they could get an idea of what it was like to be a pilot. It was the very same sim that was used to train real Commanders before they were allowed to fly a real ship. Evgeniya herself had done extensive training on the combat simulator when she was a child. Although it only had a limited number of scenarios and the artificial pilots were easier to outsmart than most real ones, it was an authentic representation, and even now – when she was out in the rings of Can Qing 2b hunting for local criminals – she could hardly tell if she was in the simulator or actually in risk of being killed; this confounded sense of reality probably made her a less moral person even as it made her a more fierce and impetuous combat pilot.
When she was at home, she would often spend long hours in the sims. But she had some guests come to pay her a visit.
Her apartment was airy and austere and dimly lit. The surfaces were all dark greys, but a large portion of the walls around the living area was made of glass; through the glass came a deep blue ocean light, which shimmered as small schools of sprinting fish shot by and was broken by shadows of flat-beaked porpoises propelled by their powerful tails. Evgeniya liked to keep her fish. She often enjoyed smoking a cigarette and watching them disappear toward the back of the deep tanks and out of sight, the light catching their silver scales and smooth skins, and she would wonder what a real ocean was like. She kept two pet dogs too, reminders of the living nature that she rarely saw otherwise. Not many humans did.
Countess Ganeva arrived, and then uncle Nikolai turned up with his nephew. Evgeniya was not particularly enthusiastic about having guests. Idle chatter did not engage her. But she was happy to talk about important things. Profitable things. And she had loyalty and love for those closest to her, and she abided their company as best she could, and sometimes even enjoyed it.
They sat around the coffee table on the sofas. The sofas were low, deep and firm, but comfortable in their way. Evgeniya sat with her legs crossed at the knee, smoking, her blonde hair tied up in a bun, little Elena Ganeva next to her. Opposite sat Duke Varamazov puffing at his ever-present cigar, and his rather self-conscious looking nephew, Vasily, a tall, thin and quite handsome lad of about 20 years with neat slicked-back hair, who was training to be a combat pilot under his uncle's aegis.
“How are you, uncle?” asked Evgeniya, although the man was not related to her by blood – he had simply been a close friend of her parents and a source of paternal affection to her from a young age.
“Well, thank you, my dear,” he replied in his deep voice. He was a bulky guy but he had hearty good health. “And you? How was your voyage? No too boring, I hope.”
“Sweet crackers, I don't won't to go into that now,” Evgeniya replied. “Nothing exciting happened, so I won't bore you with naming each moon I managed to scan. After two months out there, I'm more interested in what's been happening here.”
“Ah well, fair enough,” Nikolai laughed. “We're glad to have you back-”
“Yes-” agreed Elena.
“We missed you.” Nikolai turned his brown eyes on Evgeniya and studied her. He was still handsome, with his large but neatly trimmed silver beard and the thick dark eyebrows beneath his expressive wrinkled forehead. “We could do with you in the rings. A good combat pilot like you is no use out there in the nether, flying about in a tractor,” he grumbled. He always said something like this.
“Exploring is never a waste,” contradicted Elena, who had dedicated much of her life to studying space and intended to dedicate much more to doing the same in the future. She glanced up as a porpoise slowly passed through a piece of wood in the fish tanks, beating bubbles behind it. Then she turned her exotic slanting back eyes back on the Duke. “There is much to learn about our galaxy. And beyond.”
“Yes,” said Nikolai doubtfully, lowering his head deferentially toward the Countess, “true, but we could've done with some help against the Gold Council and their scum pilots these passed weeks. They-”
“I'm sure you coped fine, uncle,” Evgeniya said. The mineral asteroids that circled around the nearby gas giant were the main source of the space-station's wealth, and attracted scores of free-lance miners out for profit. They also attracted bands of robbers and needed to be constantly policed. “You've got Vasily here, and rest assured I'll be back out there in the Extraction Zone in a few days. My mechanics have been working on the Imp while I've been away. New distributor, more powerful lasers. The Golden boys won't know what hit them.” She did not mention her new paint job, she would surprise them with that.
“That's the spirit,” said Nikolai. He would be glad to have her back in his team. She was a great fighter pilot, and he hated to see her misusing her gift as her father had before her. Her father had exhausted himself on vain dreams of discovery, his head turned by his wife Anaïs and the crazy cult she belonged to. It was a waste and a shame. “We're due out again next Wednesday. I hope you'll be there.” That was eight standard days hence.
“Of course.”
Vasily, for his part, said nothing, but glanced between the deep line of Evgeniya's cleavage, held tight by her tracksuit, and the stunningly beautiful fairy who sat next to her. The young man, like many, judged Elena Ganeva to be amongst the most beautiful woman in the Empire. Perhaps the most beautiful. Even Aisling Duval was just a blowtorch compared to the burning sun that was Elena Ganeva. Her smile was rightly famed, and he would attack a fully armed Imperial Clipper in a unshielded Sidewinder just to see it. He felt lucky to be in the room with the two beauties who were sat opposite him. Ladies of the Empire were always immaculately groomed and stylishly dressed, and here were two fine examples, especially the Countess. He felt lucky to live in Can Qing, which was a rare thing.
“Help yourself to coffee,” said Evgeniya, pouring herself a cup from the cafetière.
“Nothing stronger?” asked Elena.
“I've got some wine, Lavian I think-”
“Brandy?-”
“Yes-”
“That'll do.”
“No scotch?” asked Nikolai.
“Sorry, uncle.”
“No scotch,” he replied sadly. “I should have brought my own.” He laughed toward Elena.
“Yes,” the handsome little pixie agreed. “Next time bring enough for us both.”
Evgeniya returned with a crystal decanter of brandy and some small glasses. She served her guests herself, as she had already dismissed the servants for the evening.
“You should get yourself an Achilles, ma'am,” said Vasily.
“Oh, you do speak?” said Evgeniya, which made the young man's cheeks even redder. “Nice idea, but I wouldn't won't one of those ugly things dirtying up the place. Besides, they make you lazy. Robots are only useful in more... industrial situations, when you have no other choice than to use one.”
“Lazy? I never heard that before. That's what they're for, no? Why waste time on mundane tasks fit for slaves? As soon as I've saved enough money, I'm going to buy one.”
“Yes, true, but we mustn't rely on machines to do every little thing. It's bad for the soul.” Evgeniya turned her cold, fierce blue eyes on young Vasily and he returned to his reticence.
“I've got a couple of 'em,” Elena chimed in. “Life's too short. I've a lot of research and studying to do, and they cost less than servants in the long run. They're useful for many things. Anyway, what did you get up to out in the galaxy? Do tell, I actually do want to know about each moon you scanned. At least, you must have some nice holographs to show. I bet you do.”
“Ah, yes indeed. I saw some... fascinating stuff,” Evgeniya replied, tight lipped. She stood up. “Okay, I'll show you, briefly.” Touching her bracelet, she brought up a holographic orrery to the side of the room, and showed them her course and some of the images of the systems and planets she had discovered. “Quite profitable...” she was saying. “I've a feeling the Pilot's Federation may award me 'Elite' status soon. Just one or two more long journeys out should do it.”
“Good luck,” said Nikolai. He meant it. Although he would prefer her to concentrate on developing her combat skills, he knew what it would mean to her, or to any commander, to be awarded Elite.
“Excellent. So you must be nearly ready for our trip, then, eh?” said Elena. “For my part, preparations are going well. And if we succeed, they'll recognise us both as 'Elite', without doubt. We'll blow them away with everything we find. Think of the riches we'll bring back.”
They all looked at Elena and admired her perfect and unreserved simon-pure smile, and her teeth that beamed like a constellation of O-type stars. Suddenly she sprang to her feet, and went and swept her hands through the orrery as if she were playing a harp. Once she had kicked off her heels she was barely five-feet tall, and – a trained ballerina – she skipped around lightly as she moved the map. She seemed to know her way around the whole thing, as if she was intimate with each star, and she plucked out constellations, nebulas, confluxes and stems, until she approached the centre of the galaxy where billions of stars sparkled like so many fireworks exploding at once, packed in like a firecrackers in a crate, and they all stared in awe at the incredible sight (except Vasily, who was concentrating more on Elena's little round bum). Elena talked like a woman possessed by an over-riding spiritual goal, obsessed with understanding the galaxy and its harmony, a woman whose body and mind was fused in one belief and a rhythm charged by a celestial music box inside her head that made her want to dance across nebulas, abysses, voids, whole spiral arms until she reached where she knew she was destined to go, unlocking the secrets and myths of the universe as she swirled... She was an inspiration, and no doubt a whole fleet would follow her out into the Heart of Darkness, with Evgeniya leading the way. Even old Nikolai was almost convinced...
They talked and drank until late in the evening, and finally Evigeniya was left alone with only her fish for company. She smoked a last cigarette, and then thought about going to bed. But she stubbed out her smoke in the ashtray, and went to plunge herself into the Gen-Sim instead.