A Rope To The Sky

Copyright © Peter MacDougall, all rights reserved

A Rope to the Sky started life as an acrylic painting I did for Science Fiction convention art show. I completed it essentially in one day from sketch to final painting.

The story itself is a 6000 word hard science fiction story. It is meant primarily for the young adult readership and is an effort to recreate those stories I used to read.

Part 1

Lift off.

The sharpening of the light. The crushing acceleration. The subtle scent of ozone. My heart would race. I could feel my blood rushing through my chest. Twinkling spots would appear before my eyes. I could feel my flight suit constrict around my body. I used to think that nothing could match the feeling of lift off

We had finished our rapid ascent into orbit and I stared out the window watching Amelia's curved horizon rolling above us. It had been our third launch on a demanding two-day schedule and I was getting tired. Still, the sky darkened from teal to violet to black only to fill with millions of stars. It is a sight I never tire of.

I didn't stare for long. I had computers to check, vectors to plot, and a flight path to maintain. We had a delivery for our main customer, the OTIS support station.

As usual, Brodie checked the systems and the payload and prepared for docking. He was grinning and bobbing his dreadlocks as he listened to ABBA on his walkman. He is a big floppy mammie doll with his long lanky body, his round head too big for his shoulders, and his wild hair. I shook my head at him, told him he looked ridiculous and he just grinned all the more.

After I finished setting the flight path, I glanced over at Doc WIlliamson's camera. It stared out the top-side window, facing squarely down onto Amelia's surface. Metre by metre it was photographing Amelia looking for remnants of the Progenitors. Doc Williamson was so convinced that they had once settled on this backwater planet that he had given up his job with the Science Foundation to come here. I thought he was crazy. However, the camera hardly weighed anything at all and it did take spectacular photos, some of which I had in my apartment back planetside.

The support station appeared as a bright star under the planet's arcing horizon as we advanced in its orbit. Stretching from it to Amelia's surface was the tiniest thread, just a streak of light, that was the unfinished orbital elevator.

I delayed the computer's de-celeration kick to the last minute, sucking all the extra time I could from our upside-down trajectory. While we cruised in, I calculated how fast we could unload and load and how many more runs we could make in this cycle. Each run took me one more infinitesimal notch down on my loan and one step closer to freedom. I had to count every dollar and every minute for my two-person, two-bit shuttle service.

Brodie was good about that. He could handle more long shifts and high-G lift-offs than any other first mate I've known. It takes a long haul before he's wanting to go to Evan's for a beer and that's usually when I can't take any more. And he doesn't kvetch, well, not out loud anyway.

The bright star became the station, then all we could see was the docking ring. There was a gentle bump and we began un-strapping.