able to sleep, he thought. But he was asleep before he could manage to lift his eyelids one more time, and he slipped into a restless dream.
When he awoke, it took a while before it came to him where he was and what had happened. As he stared at the ship’s clock, his dull brain tried without success to figure out how long he had slept. At any rate, the counter on the recorder hadn’t moved, which meant that Nillian hadn’t yet reported in again.
He walked to the viewing window and looked out, down at the enormous sphere of the planet. An endless twilight stretched across the dirty-brown surface from pole to pole. It was like a shock when he suddenly realized that it was already early morning in Nillian’s location. He had slept the entire night.
And Nillian hadn’t reported in.
He reached for the microphone and hit the activation switch much too hard.
“Nillian?”
He waited, but everything remained silent. He became more formal, “ Kalyt 9 calling Nillian Jegetar Cuain, please respond!” That also brought nothing.
Time passed, and Nillian still didn’t check in. Nargant sat in his pilot’s chair and spoke Nillian’s name into the radio again and again for hours. He rewound the recorder and listened to the reports, but there really was nothing, no radio message from Nillian. He was unaware that he was constantly chewing his lower lip and that it was already starting to bleed.
He felt virtually torn in two by opposing powers pulling at him like two forces of nature. On the one hand, there was the command, the clear, unambiguous and unrescinded order, not to land on the planets under observation and also his sense of obedience, of which he had once been so proud. He had known from the beginning that this adventure had to go wrong—from the beginning. One single man, alone on an unknown planet in an unknown culture, which had had no contact with the Empire for tens of thousands of years—what could such a man expect to accomplish except to hasten his own death?
On the other hand, there was this new feeling of friendship, the knowledge that now, somewhere down below was a man who might be trapped in a dangerous situation and who was hanging all his hopes on him. There was a man who believed in him and had worked to gain his friendship, even though he knew that those things were difficult for this former imperial soldier. Maybe Nillian was looking up into a dark night sky at this very moment, where he knew there was a small, fragile spaceship, and was waiting to be rescued.
Nargant drew in a deep breath and steeled himself. He had made a decision, and that gave him new strength. With practiced hands, he prepared to send out a multi-format broadcast message.
“Nargant, pilot of Expedition Boat Kalyt 9. Calling Heavy Cruiser Trikood under Capt. Jerom Karswant. Attention. This is an emergency.”
Pause. Without noticing it, Nargant wiped beads of sweat from his brow. He felt as though this were more than a radio message, as though he had to engage his entire body and all its strength to say and do what was necessary. He knew that he couldn’t think about it too much; otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to send the message. Just talk and send it immediately, and then let the consequences come. He released the PAUSE button.
“Disregarding our orders, my partner Nillian Jegetar Cuain landed on the surface of Planet G-101/2 three days ago standard time, in order to do additional research among the inhabitants. His last planned radio contact is now eight hours overdue. The following events should be noted.…” He reported the facts briefly, completely, and without regard for the trembling in his legs. “Please advise. Nargant, on board Kalyt 9. Current standard time 18-3-178002. Last instrument calibration: 4-2. Position: map quadrant 2014-BQA-57, orbiting the second planet of sun G-101. Out.”
By the time he sent the message, he was wet with perspiration. Now everything would take its course. Reduced to
When he awoke, it took a while before it came to him where he was and what had happened. As he stared at the ship’s clock, his dull brain tried without success to figure out how long he had slept. At any rate, the counter on the recorder hadn’t moved, which meant that Nillian hadn’t yet reported in again.
He walked to the viewing window and looked out, down at the enormous sphere of the planet. An endless twilight stretched across the dirty-brown surface from pole to pole. It was like a shock when he suddenly realized that it was already early morning in Nillian’s location. He had slept the entire night.
And Nillian hadn’t reported in.
He reached for the microphone and hit the activation switch much too hard.
“Nillian?”
He waited, but everything remained silent. He became more formal, “ Kalyt 9 calling Nillian Jegetar Cuain, please respond!” That also brought nothing.
Time passed, and Nillian still didn’t check in. Nargant sat in his pilot’s chair and spoke Nillian’s name into the radio again and again for hours. He rewound the recorder and listened to the reports, but there really was nothing, no radio message from Nillian. He was unaware that he was constantly chewing his lower lip and that it was already starting to bleed.
He felt virtually torn in two by opposing powers pulling at him like two forces of nature. On the one hand, there was the command, the clear, unambiguous and unrescinded order, not to land on the planets under observation and also his sense of obedience, of which he had once been so proud. He had known from the beginning that this adventure had to go wrong—from the beginning. One single man, alone on an unknown planet in an unknown culture, which had had no contact with the Empire for tens of thousands of years—what could such a man expect to accomplish except to hasten his own death?
On the other hand, there was this new feeling of friendship, the knowledge that now, somewhere down below was a man who might be trapped in a dangerous situation and who was hanging all his hopes on him. There was a man who believed in him and had worked to gain his friendship, even though he knew that those things were difficult for this former imperial soldier. Maybe Nillian was looking up into a dark night sky at this very moment, where he knew there was a small, fragile spaceship, and was waiting to be rescued.
Nargant drew in a deep breath and steeled himself. He had made a decision, and that gave him new strength. With practiced hands, he prepared to send out a multi-format broadcast message.
“Nargant, pilot of Expedition Boat Kalyt 9. Calling Heavy Cruiser Trikood under Capt. Jerom Karswant. Attention. This is an emergency.”
Pause. Without noticing it, Nargant wiped beads of sweat from his brow. He felt as though this were more than a radio message, as though he had to engage his entire body and all its strength to say and do what was necessary. He knew that he couldn’t think about it too much; otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to send the message. Just talk and send it immediately, and then let the consequences come. He released the PAUSE button.
“Disregarding our orders, my partner Nillian Jegetar Cuain landed on the surface of Planet G-101/2 three days ago standard time, in order to do additional research among the inhabitants. His last planned radio contact is now eight hours overdue. The following events should be noted.…” He reported the facts briefly, completely, and without regard for the trembling in his legs. “Please advise. Nargant, on board Kalyt 9. Current standard time 18-3-178002. Last instrument calibration: 4-2. Position: map quadrant 2014-BQA-57, orbiting the second planet of sun G-101. Out.”
By the time he sent the message, he was wet with perspiration. Now everything would take its course. Reduced to
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