On a caravel moored to port on the dwarf Eres, on the outer edge of the Kuiper belt stood 5 men. Gagged and with locks on their wrists that were linked together with heavy brass chains. A sizeable crowd had collected to see the ship set sail.
“Today, these five brave volunteers embark on a long exploratory expedition toward the star Altair of constellation Aquila. It will be a long and perilous journey. Over 5 parsecs. Around a full year on the caravel, God willing. Winds, too.”
The admiral paused for a moment, then turned toward the ship.
“Sailors, hear! You will return as heroes or not at all!”
She motioned something to a man who then untied the ship from the pier. Another man threw a small, blue cube onto the deck of the ship. It rose into the air and the solar wind filled the sails, pushing the caravel into space.
—
The blue block of ice leapt over the taffrail and hit the rightmost man in the eye, then dropped down with a dull thud and slowly slid towards the stern. He stared the block of ice down, then, noticing something encased inside leapt at it, bringing down the rest of the crew, still chained at the wrists.
He grabbed the ice block and started hitting it against the deck. The second man, a bearded fury scowling with impatience, he grabbed the block from his hands, held it over his head, and smashed it against the deck. The block shattered. A shard with a small bronze object inside slid past the third man, a hulking visage who just eyed it, to the fourth.
The fourth picked the shard up and dug his nails into it, methodically carving out the small key within. His hands turned bright red then numb then painful, so he passed the key to the fifth man. The fifth rubbed his hands together and held the key between them until the ice was melted. Then, he passed the key back to the fourth.
The fourth gave the fifth a blank stare, shook his head and tried to unlock the chains around his own wrists, but the handcuffs forced his wrists to bend outward. In the meanwhile, the first man crawled up to the fourth and brandished his cuffs.
The fourth reluctantly unlocked the first’s cuffs. The first unwound the gag in his mouth and took a deep breath. He started to unlock the fourth’s cuffs, scanned the faces of the other crew and asked:
“Right. Does anyone here know how to fly a ship?”
—
The crew stayed silent. It was the gags, you see, but also the fact none of them had a clue on how to fly a ship. They eyed each other nervously.
“No? Lucky I am!” He exclaimed and grinned a thin-lipped grin that looked like it was carved into his face. He unlocked the fourth man’s cuffs who took off the moment he could, peered over the ship’s bulwark [the fence around the deck], scared himself dizzy, and hobbled below deck.
“YOU’RE WELCOME!” the first shouted as he decided to ungagging the men first might be the right order of things. He ungagged the fifth who was noticeably the youngest of the lot.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Jet.”
“Name’s Lucky. You liked to go fast? That why you’re here?”
“No, it was- It’s short for idjet [note: play audio quote]“
Lucky smacked his lips and let out a surprised “oh”. He went to free the second man. Jet walked up to a swivel-gun mounted on the front of the ship and examined it. He pointed it up and looked down the barrel, but there wasn’t enough light to see if it was loaded. Realizing he was lucky having not blown his head off then and there, he put it back the way it was and began thinking out loud.
“So Altair, eh? That’ll be a sight to see.”
The second man, the bearded brute, guffawed at that thought.
“HA-HAHAHA! The last sight *we’ll* see’ll be the bottom of a gunship cannon! I heard they’d done this SIX times before. y’know how many came BACK?”, he said, “NONE! Not ONE! You know what they’ll do, they’ll, they’ll, they’ll have a gunship follow us to the edge of the Oort cloud and then they’ll gun us into a fine mist.”
“Oh, please”, Jet replied, “those are just rumours! The journey’s perilous, sure, bu-“
“-Rumours? A guard told me as much. And perilous! HAHA! Yea, PERILOUS. We’re DEAD! One way or the other! We might as well die on our own terms!”
—
Heavy steps were heard below deck, then from the sterncastle ran out the fourth man, teeth bared and skin soaked in enough anxiety to kill a bear.
“Hey!”, Lucky shouted, “Why’d you run off?”
“I ain’t one for heights. But I went down, an’ I did a little stock check, an’ I heard what you’re planning.” he said and started heaving.
“Calm down, you’re fine! Breathe! What’s your name? What’d you find?”
He collected himself and wiped the sweat from his neck.
“I’m Cyrus. Listen. They weren’t lying. We’ve got enough supplies for a bit over half a year on the caravel.”
“-Uh-huh. And the Admiraless said we’re to be out there for a year at least. How’s that work out?”
“They left us instructions. We’re to go to Barnard’s star. It’s halfway to Altair. There’s an outpost there for resupply.”
“Well, look at that, Beardo! Looks like death’s not quite as certain as you thought!” said Lucky.
“BAH! Paper is cheap. Like I’d trust them. Have you ever even heard of Barnard’s star? Have you heard of ANY outpost apart from Proxima and Sirius? We’re fighting back, and that’s that!”
“Yea, how about a vote before you go deciding our fate?” Cyrus said. “I ain’t sure we’ll make it, but I’d rather eke out a few months out my life. Even if we won the battle against a proper gunship, we’d be outlaws! For the rest of our lives!”
“Not the rest of our lives.” said Jet. “Maybe you would, but I wouldn’t”
“Yea, you’re special, you’re getting exonerated. Why don’t you get us all a retrial if it’ll be so easy, you selfish runt! And as if they’ll take you once you smash their gunboat to pieces.”
“Selfish? So what!? I don’t even know you! But what’s in my head is worth a full squadron at the least!”
“Oh, great, with a crew like this, I’m starting to want to die in a blaze of glory!”
“Quiet! Calm down! A lot!” said the giant fellow and got between the two quarrelers. “We’re still doing a vote? I vote we leave.”
For a moment, Lucky tried to recall whether he had freed the big guy or not, but that line of thought was quickly overtaken by the nasty realization that he had become the tiebreaker.
“Cyrus, did you see a coin in that ice block? If it rolled below deck, maybe?”
“Er, no, I-
“This coin?” Interrupted Jet and handed Lucky the coin before covering his face in shame of what he had just done.
“Ah, my libertine… Heads we fight, tails we leave!”
—
The coin lands on heads - we leave and explore!
The coin lands on tails - we stay and fight!—
Post-script comment:
22. I’m curious to see how a space version compares/contrasts with the older tradition though.
23. Good question! Answer is – I didn’t think about it! Note this is a genuine, Notorious-style caravel, but IN SPAAACE.