Starship Walker

The Century Ship

The Xing Long Hao was about sixty light years from the local bubble. For the next two days, Gillian Walked twenty light years each day. At the beginning of day three, though growing tired, she began to feel excited. She was now just a few light years from the edge of the bubble. In a matter of hours, she would once more see the sights that had entranced her during her first experience of Walking.

Her growing excitement was mirrored throughout the Xinglong Hao. The Ship News reported her progress hourly. One of the channels had replaced its logo with a picture of her in her Walk suit, arms outstretched above her head as she reached into a balletic pose. Until she saw it, Gillian had been unaware how dramatic she appeared, and was shocked by it. It unnerved her; she seemed alien even to herself.

As a crew member, and not an official ship spokesperson, Gillian had never given interviews, and was glad of it, though she realised her silence might make her seem more alien. Celia had appeared in interviews, and had managed, Gillian thought, to say nothing of consequence. It had surprised Gillian to see Celia display these skills.

She arrived at the Navigation centre early that morning, and found Mr Dryen alone, reclining in a seat near his instruments, gazing at 3D star map displays.

"Good morning," Gillian said, and took a seat nearby. Her two marines went over to the dispenser and made coffee for themselves.

Dryen glanced at her. "Where's your friend today?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe she slept in, or maybe she's had enough of the Navigation Centre." Needing conversation, Gillian added, "What are you doing?"

Dryen glanced at her. "Nothing special. I'm just looking at maps of human occupied space back in the local bubble. I was thinking how far we are from it - still several hundred light years away even when we get out of these interstellar clouds."

"Yes, it's a big distance."

"And I was thinking about you."

"Oh?"

"If we didn't have you, and never found another likely Walker candidate on board, we'd become a century ship."

"Surely that's not very likely," Gillian said. "You're bound to find someone else to train as a Walker, sooner or later. There are still hundreds of candidates to check." She paused. "I'd love to have a colleague!"

"You've still got Abel."

"Yes, but he's not a Walker anymore, so it's not quite the same."

"Ah!" Dryen exclaimed. "You want someone to share the pressure - from all those anxious eyes upon you everywhere you go."

"Yes, I suppose that's it."

"And perhaps someone more your own age?"

"Oh, well!" Gillian said, and blushed.

"But instead, you're alone."

"If something did happen to me..." Gillian's voice faltered.

"That's why I was thinking about century ships. We still come across them, from time to time."

Everyone knew about the old starships that were launched a couple of centuries ago, before Walk technology was developed. They were still out there, overtaken and made irrelevant by the Walker technology. Most were lost, the subject of legends and horror stories.

"What about them?" Gillian asked.

"I was on a ship that found one, about five years ago."

"You were?" Gillian heard her voice become attentive.