COMPETE: The Atlantis Grail (Book Two) - Preview

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO (draft)

​CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It is definitely the heart of Jump Month.

What does it mean? It means that the preparations for the Jump are ongoing, everywhere, and the Fleet is on alert.

A sense of urgency has gripped us, and it's somewhat hard to put into words.

Our velocity continues rising, but it is no longer anything that can be described, not even in mathematical terms—at least not ones I've studied back on Earth. In terms of literary metaphor, we are going infernally fast. . . .

When you go to the ICS-2 Observation Deck, it's a terrifying, depressing sight, evoking visceral terror. Outside the windows, the universe is a uniform deep grey blur now. Nothing to see, not even vague shadows of stars, only the closest neighbor ark-ships in formation.

It's as though nothing in the world exists, only us. And for that reason, most people no longer visit the observation decks of the Fleet ark-ships during these last weeks.

The things we are taught about the Jump process in our various classes are also intimidating.

"During the final week leading up to the Jump," Instructor Mithrat Okoi tells us, "all Fleet Pilots will remain inside. At this time, no one will be allowed to fly ship-to-ship in the Stream—not even the astra daimon. Your classwork on flight simulators will proceed as usual, but on the day immediately preceding and following the Jump, there will be no classes held."

"The experience of the Jump is highly complex and individualized," Instructor Nilara Gradat tells us in Culture Class, on the day she has a guest doctor attending the lecture, to answer our medical questions. "As the fabric of the Quantum Stream around us grows more and more unstable, even the presence of the ship's powerful shields and various life support systems is inadequate to protect living beings from all the effects. Many people suffer what is called Jump sickness—both before and after the Jump itself."

Immediately hands go up, as concerned students want to know more.

"Jump sickness symptoms include disorientation, dizziness, loss of consciousness, and various forms of agitation, temporary loss of motor function," the Atlantean doctor picks up at this point and speaks to us. "Some of you might experience nausea, difficulty breathing, elevated pulse rates and panic, others a full body flush and circulation issues. There is also the danger of panic attacks causing you to harm yourself accidentally."

Nilara Gradat nods. "For that reason, everyone on the ship—passengers and crew—will be confined to their sleeping bunks, where you will engage the safety harness system. You will lie down and stay flat in bed at least fifteen minutes before the Jump and fifteen minutes after. Fortunately the effects dissipate quickly, and most of you should be sufficiently recovered within the hour."

A girl raises her hand and asks tremulously. "How does the actual moment of the Jump feel? Does it—hurt?"

The doctor shakes his head. "No, it is painless, but it can feel like a momentary loss of consciousness for most people, which is not particularly pleasant. That's why we strongly recommend you lie in your bed and try not to move too much. The ship's automated system will issue a thirty-minute warning countdown, to give you plenty of time to prepare."

And then we are told: "You will undergo physical examinations to once again test your hormone levels. If the hormonal balance in your body does not match the safe range, you will be given treatments the day before the Jump."

In the meantime, our Technology and Systems Instructor, Klavit Xitoi, informs us of another aspect of the process. "To protect against the effects of the Jump, we employ a Stasis System. For that purpose, there's a cold storage chamber on Deck Level 5. It contains ten emergency storage capsules for those on this ship who are most vulnerable. That includes anyone over and under the safe age."