Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Yes—is that okay?” I asked anxiously. “You said to bring it in close and concentrate on the Space Gates, so I just…”
I trailed off because he was already putting the band back on my head.
“Plot a course from this Space Gate to one across the Galaxy—in the Fourth Quadrant,” he commanded.
I concentrated, picturing the jump from one gate to the next.
“Which gate do you want?” I asked him. “The Fourth Quadrant has seventeen…no, eighteen of them,” I amended as I counted.
“Remarkable,” I heard him mutter. “Take the one closest to Hyfrx Four—that’s a silver planet with four moons in the upper right sector of the quadrant,” he ordered.
I did as he said and the simulation automatically transported us through the simulated Space Gate. Soon the simulator’s viewscreen was showing a silver planet with four moons orbiting it.
“Excellent!” Grr. Horstauf seemed really pleased. “Now let’s try something even more challenging.”
So far nothing he’d asked me to do had been difficult at all, so I wasn’t sure what he meant by “more challenging.” However, I was willing to learn anything he would teach me.
“We’re going to try some extra-galactic navigation now—we call it Cross-Dimensional Navigation,” he told me. “There are no Space Gates outside the Imperium Galaxy, so you’ll have to use semi-stable worm holes instead. The holes often shift positions so using the right one can be challenging even for a seasoned navigator.”
I had never flown through a worm hole and said so. My teacher nodded.
“Not many have—it’s quite an experience, I can tell you. But it’s very important when you navigate between wormholes that you watch out for dangerous cosmic phenomena along the way. For instance, you don’t want to take a worm hole that spits you out in the vicinity of a quasar or directly in the event horizon of a black hole, right?”
“Your ship would be torn to shreds,” I said, seeing what he meant. “Or else everyone aboard would get massive, lethal doses of radiation.”
“Exactly, my dear. So now I want you to expand your vision—make our own galaxy smaller and look for worm holes. Each one has a unique color that corresponds to the exit of that same hole. The entrance—the side closer to us— will be brighter. Plot me a course to the Terebethian Galaxy—it’s shaped like a disk and it has a red center—and watch out for any dangerous exits,” he told me.
I expanded the map the nav helmet allowed me to see and soon I saw multiple glowing lights littered all over the cosmic field. As Grr. Horstauf had told me, each worm hole had an exit which was the same color but a bit dimmer than the entrance.
Soon I saw the galaxy he wanted me to plot a course to. I chose the worm holes I would use carefully, avoiding a black hole—which was tricky to see—and a neutron star which was sitting outside the exit of one of the worm holes. Even though it was no bigger than a small moon, it would have grabbed any ship that came too close in its massive gravity field and crushed it like an empty drink can.
I drew the lines with my mind and they hovered on the map, showing the rout I had plotted. As soon as I was finished, I plucked the nav band off my head and handed it to my teacher.
Grr. Horstauf studied my route and nodded.
“Amazing!” I heard him mutter. “Not a single blind spot.”
“Blind spot?” I asked, frowning.
He took off the band and turned to me.
“Many—well, most navigators—have what we call ‘blind spots.’ That is, they have a difficult time seeing some of the dangers lurking at the exits of the various worm holes. That neutron star you avoided gets almost every Cross-Dimensional Nav student I’ve ever taught—their brain just doesn’t see it. They must be trained through hours of laborious study to catch sight of the danger. But you—you saw it right away.”
“It was obvious.” I shrugged. “Can I try again with something harder this time?”
But though it felt easy and natural to me, it turned out that I had a rare talent. A Cross-Dimensional Navigator with no blind spots was so unique my instructor told me he’d only ever heard of one before, somewhere in the Third Quadrant.
He was so excited about my abilities—even though both of us knew I’d never get to use them—that he had me practicing over and over. I memorized hundreds of star charts and galaxy maps and learned all the inter-galactic markers to look for. I was a prodigy—though of course it didn’t do me any good.
I was proud of my unique talent of course, but I had to keep it a secret, even from Slade and especially from our Sire. My father wouldn’t have liked it if he knew what I could do. It wasn’t proper for a Clan Princess to learn a trade—not even a purely mental one like Cross-Dimensional Navigation. So nobody knew I was able to navigate all around the known universe except me and my instructor. And of course, I had never expected to use my skill.