Three days have passed since we entered the Pantheon… and we’ve finally come out of it!

  Three full days of travel just to get out of the graveyard! Three days! I know we weren’t at maximum speed, but it was cruising speed. Three days! It truly is the rgest ship graveyard on the Rim.

  But not everything was bad. The crew regained their seriousness after this visit. Now everyone is giving their best to fulfill the mission. The atmosphere is busy: equipment is being checked, modifications are being made, and there’s nonstop training, which in turn means more work for the engineering department. Still, I don’t mind moving these old bones after so long.

  Suddenly, an announcement interrupts the noise of our work.

  “Attention, crew: we will arrive at the Odyssey stelr catapult in two hours. Please finish your tasks and head to your compartments to avoid accidents during the stelr jump.”

  We all look at each other in silence for a moment, then we start packing up equipment, putting away tools, and shutting down the machines. We’ve finally reached the edge of the kingdom’s territory: the st forward base before entering uncharted space.

  The Odyssey stelr catapult is a colossal structure, capable of unching ships of maximum size to the maximum distance. In fact, it can send you to any corner of the kingdom. Of course, that’s only in theory, because it’s not as simple as firing a ship from one end to the other at stelr speed. A route has to be plotted, and with the kingdom’s busy routes—filled with constant traffic—finding a clear path can be more complicated than it seems.

  “Remember to turn everything off. We don’t want any devices causing interference during the unch,” the chief engineer reminds us.

  “Yes,” we reply.

  After checking everything at least twice, we head to our rooms, which are in the opposite direction from the soldiers’ quarters. So I didn’t run into Alex, which is a shame because I wanted to lend him my test projection so he could watch it during the trip.

  “Look, you can already see the Odyssey,” one of my engineering partners tells me.

  I turn and look through a window. From there I can make out a figure floating in space, growing rger as we approach. It’s a long, floating base, shaped almost like a massive rail cannon. At the end—what would be the barrel—there’s a series of ring-shaped structures slowly rotating, all illuminated by pale-blue lights that give the structure a very sophisticated design.

  “Incredible. I haven’t seen one since the capital pnet, and that one was in orbit.”

  “How can this one stay in position in the void?” another colleague asks.

  “The secret is in the stelr rings that rotate. They not only unch ships at stelr speed, they also keep the catapult in pce when it’s not in use,” I reply, proudly showing off the vast knowledge I’ve gained from my long nights of research on the EtherNet.

  Everyone stares at me in silence, undoubtedly impressed by my great wisdom.

  “That sounds like a very logical expnation, but you know…” one of my colleagues breaks the silence.

  “Coming from you only makes the information lose credibility,” another says.

  What the hell are they talking about?

  “I found it,” someone says while fiddling with his sensory connector behind his ear. “He’s right: the rings serve the dual function of acceleration during the stelr unch and, at the same time, they can keep the catapult positioned in space.”

  At his expnation, everyone looks impressed, but why? I gave the same information. Sensing my confusion, another engineer tells me:

  “Sorry, Rob. It’s just that, somehow, even when you say something that sounds completely logical and normal, we can’t help but suspect it’s some crazy conspiracy theory you read on the net.”

  I’m left speechless in shock. What the hell are these idiots talking about?

  That everything I say sounds like some crazy internet theory? How dare they? Where are they getting that from?

  I thought I had a good retionship with the department. I’ve had pleasant chats about the kingdom’s future with most of the team, and I showed my projections to a few I thought were superior minds, seekers of knowledge like myself. So I don’t understand these attacks on my credibility.

  I’m about to demand my rightful expnation when the department chief appears.

  “What the hell are you all doing in the middle of the hallway like a bunch of idiots? Get to your sleep pods!” the chief yells.

  “Yes, sir!” we answer as we head to our assigned spots. Don’t think this is over; we have long talks ahead of us.

  I find my sleep pod: an egg a little over two meters long, designed to induce static sleep for long journeys. It’s also used for normal rest when we need to save energy and the trip isn’t too long, like this one.

  I press my device against the pod’s screen, and it scans my information to confirm my identity. The screen turns green, and the pod door begins to open. I climb inside and lie down; the interior is soft and comfortable. I press the button, and the door begins to close. The curious thing about the door is that it’s also a terminal we can use to control various pod features, receive messages, and continue working on our projects. We can also browse or watch a projection.

  I don’t think I’ll be able to browse the EtherNet during the stelr jump, and I’ve already finished my work. As I wonder what to do, an idea suddenly pops into my mind.

  “What a great idea! I might get into some trouble, but as long as I don’t get caught, everything will be fine,” I say as a smile forms on my lips.

  I quickly start fiddling with my pod’s screen. Once everything is set up, I turn off the terminal and get ready to sleep.

  “This will show them I’m a reliable source of information and will put an end to my bad reputation… or it’ll finish sinking it. Well, with great reward comes great risk,” I whisper before falling asleep.

  ***

  I’m sitting at my station, reflecting on how the mission has unfolded so far. There have been no major setbacks; we’ve been traveling for seventeen days, right on schedule. Because of that, the crew adopted a rexed and carefree attitude, something unacceptable for an expedition of this magnitude. So I made a few calls and organized a visit to the Pantheon of the Princesses, which luckily was close to our route.

  My intention was clear: to remind them of what we risk every time we cross this universe with the kingdom’s crest on our backs. The visit yielded great results, even better than expected. They finally adopted the attitude expected of soldiers of the kingdom. And now, right before entering the unknown, I can say we’re ready for whatever this universe has prepared for us.

  I couldn’t help but let a smile slip out.

  “Captain?” a voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  “What is it, Martínez?” I answer as I turn around.

  The one speaking to me is Martínez, a young man who looks around nineteen. Thin, elegantly built, with short dark hair, he wears the formal army uniform with a few personal modifications: white gloves and gold-rimmed gsses that give him a butler-like air.

  He’s my orderly, assigned for this mission, but he’s proven to be much more than that. Helpful, meticulous, and extremely efficient, he has become a sort of unofficial assistant. He handles paperwork, takes care of bothersome tasks, and makes my life—and that of the rest of the staff—considerably easier. Apparently, I’ve developed a reputation for not being exactly easy to deal with.

  “All non-essential personnel are already in their pods, prepared for the stelr jump,” Martínez informs me.

  “Excellent. Have we received entry clearance from the catapult?” I ask.

  “They’re still calcuting the route to our destination, but they notified us that we may enter through gate 3,” Martínez reports.

  “Good. Begin entry,” I order.

  “Beginning entry,” my helmsman responds.

  Slowly, our gigantic ship approaches the catapult, which makes us look small in comparison to its massive size.

  “Remote traction activated. All right, we’re in their hands now,” the helmsman tells me.

  Our ship begins to move, pulled by an invisible force that takes us to the ptform, which opens to receive us.

  “Tch,” I let out a small compint. No matter how many times I experience it, I don’t like knowing I’m not in control of the Seeker. No captain would willingly pce their ship and crew’s lives in someone else’s hands.

  I don’t rex until the sensation fades and the ptform closes.

  “Entry complete, traction deactivated,” Martínez says, knowing all too well how much I dislike the traction.

  “Cylinder-gate closed. Beginning loading,” a voice informs us through the transmitter.

  The ship begins to move upward in a circur angle until we stop at the top of the catapult.

  “Expedition vessel Horizon Seeker, this is the Odyssey stelr catapult. Launch is ready, and the route has been verified. Confirm when you’re prepared.”

  “All in order, Captain,” Martínez reports to me after receiving updates from each sector.

  “Stelr catapult, this is Captain Mason of the expedition vessel Horizon Seeker. We confirm that we’re ready for unch,” I report.

  “Received, Captain. Beginning preparations.”

  Slowly, the first rings begin to rotate and move around the Seeker.

  “Applying immaterial field.”

  The rotating rings emit an increasing glow; the light gathers around the ship, forming a yer of energy that envelops it completely.

  “Everyone, brace yourselves,” I order as I cling to my chair.

  The light slowly begins to penetrate the ship and covers its entire interior. I look at my own hands as they lose all color and turn semi-transparent, just like everything around me.

  “Immaterialization complete,” Martínez informs me.

  “Beginning countdown.”

  One by one, the rings across the structure increase their speed until they merge into a tunnel of blue light.

  “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Good luck, Seeker. May the Light of the Radiance guide you safely back home.”

  With those parting words, our field of vision is swallowed by a blinding light, and we’re hurled into the far reaches of space.

  A long sigh of relief spreads across the bridge.

  We can finally rex—though not completely, as we must still monitor the journey to ensure nothing knocks us off course.

  Just when everything seems to have returned to calm, suddenly, every screen on the bridge begins dispying a projection.

  Everyone can only stare in shock at the screens, where a red dog with a space helmet on its head and a mechanic’s jumpsuit starts talking to us.

  “Hello there, seekers of truth! Clifford here, your favorite red space dog, welcoming you to a new projection of our segment ‘Knowing the Man's Rim.’ Today I bring you an information piece aboooout… drumroll please! Stelr travel!” the canine says as he moves from side to side, celebrating and kicking his short legs.

  Finally, the bridge crew snaps out of their initial stupor and begins working to remove the projection from the screens.

  However, as if mocking their efforts, the cartoonish animal continues his expnation in a cheerful tone.

  “Let’s start with some basic physics from puppy kindergarten. As you may know, it’s extremely difficult for an object with mass to reach the speed of light. Only light itself, having no mass, can reach it. It’s like if you throw me this ball—since it’s light, it flies far, but if we make it heavier, we can barely move it,” he says while pying with a couple of balls.

  The expnation isn’t bad—kids would probably love it—but that fact doesn’t lessen my growing anger.

  “The solution was that if mass is the problem, then let’s get rid of it. In an almost miraculous effort, humanity created the immaterial shield. Harnessing the power of the ether, scientists covered a body with the shield, which partially separates it from this dimension, pcing us in a sort of limbo where we’re here, but our mass isn’t. It’s just like our shadow. A shadow is a projection of an object’s shape. A shadow has no weight, no matter how big the object is. It doesn’t break, no matter how hard you hit it. And if it could run, it would be very, very fast,” he expins while simultaneously fighting and chasing a dog-shaped shadow.

  I look over at Martínez from my station. My subordinate is just as stunned as I am.

  “That’s how we can reach speeds that would otherwise break the ws of physics… assuming we aren’t already breaking them. And when we reach our destination, the shield turns off and we regain our mass,” he says as he reattaches his shadow, sewing it back on. “Well, that’s all for today, seekers. I hope this cleared up a little bit about this vast universe. I’ll be off now—and don’t forget to keep sniffing out the truth.”

  With his nose pressed against the screen, the projections shut off, and tranquility returns to the bridge. Everyone falls into a funeral-like silence.

  “Martínez, what the hell was that?” I ask him, breaking the silence.

  “I think it was Clifford, the space dog. He’s a content creator with modest popurity on the EtherNet,” he replies, pushing his gsses up, still not fully out of his shock.

  “And what is ‘Clifford’ doing on our screens?” I question him, losing my patience.

  “It seems some idiot uploaded his projection to the Seeker’s private network, set to start pying during the trip,” he answers, checking the logs.

  “And do we know who that idiot was?” I ask one st question.

  “According to the records, the projection originated from capsule 47, assigned to a mechanic named Rob,” he replies.

  “One week of double shifts. Seems like he has plenty of energy and free time,” I sentence.

  ***

  I find myself in a somewhat dark training room. In the back, I can see a figure practicing movements with a greatsword so huge I don’t think I could even lift it. As I approach, the figure becomes clearer, revealing a man about 1.90 meters tall. His body is covered in muscles that look as if they were chiseled from marble. His hair is long and shines with a color and intensity reminiscent of a raging fire. All of this, along with a magnificent beard, gives him a wild and powerful appearance.

  Suddenly, he notices my presence and stops his movements, turning to greet me.

  “Well, if it isn’t the little recruit!” he says, ughing. “Want to practice a bit?” he invites, offering me a sword significantly smaller than his.

  I walk closer and take the sword. It’s heavy like a real one, but harmless; it’s a training sword with no edge. In fact, it doesn’t even hit you. When a strike is about to connect, it releases a small shockwave that pushes you back. I say “small,” but it creates an impact that, trust me, you feel down to your bones.

  “In position,” the instructor orders as he takes a stance with his massive sword.

  I quickly adjust my stance. I need to be careful that the instructor’s huge bde doesn’t reach me; that definitely wouldn’t be a small hit.

  As I’m distracted thinking about that, the instructor moves. It’s a wide downward strike. I quickly dodge to the side, rolling across the floor. If we were on equal footing, I’d try to receive it and redirect it sideways, but the force and weight behind that blow would have smmed me into the ground.

  “Damn old man, you don’t hold back at all,” I mutter as I jump back to my feet and rush in to attack him before he can lift his sword.

  His fnk is exposed. I aim a stab right at his ribs when suddenly I hear the sound of air being cut beside me. Instantly I bend my body backward as a sword passes dangerously close to my head.

  “Never assume you understand your enemy’s reach and movements,” he yells as he swings his sword around.

  I get it now. He didn’t even lift his sword; he just rotated it, using the centrifugal force from his big initial motion.

  “You slipped up!” I shout at him.

  The swing was too wide, and now his hands and sword are on my right, while his left side is open. I quickly switch my grip on my sword and slip under his massive arms.

  I throw a strike, putting all my weight behind it, but just as I’m about to touch him, I feel a brutal impact in my stomach. I’m sent flying backward, and the st thing I see is a shadow descending over me.

  ***

  [We have arrived at our destination.]

  A robotic voice pulls me out of my sleep.

  The hatch of my pod opens, and I sit up, rubbing my head, still drowsy.

  “You old cheater,” I mutter as I think about that old memory. I look around; everyone is getting out of their pods too.

  Before I can get changed, a voice starts coming from the onboard transmitters: “To all personnel, we have just arrived at expansion zone ZD41. We are currently in quadrant 0. The immaterial shield has already been raised. You have 10 minutes to get ready. The captain awaits you in the observatory.”

  Quickly, everyone finishes getting ready and we head straight to the observatory, which serves as both an auditorium and a meeting hall due to its size.

  Upon arriving, we begin taking our seats. In the distance, I see Alex with the rest of the pilots; he greets me, and I nod slightly, not wanting to disturb their conversations.

  After a short while, the captain’s figure steps onto the central ptform. We all stand and salute him.

  “Take your seats,” the captain says as a projection lights up. “As you already know, we have arrived at our destination. We are in the unexplored regions of space. We are currently in quadrant 0. From here, we will proceed along the following route through quadrants 1 to 20, mapping them with the powerful onboard scanner. At the same time, during the journey, we will deploy drones that will be responsible for mapping quadrants 21 to 100,” the captain expins.

  A map of the area and its numbered quadrants is projected in the room, along with the Seeker’s route.

  “Everyone already knows what to do, but I’ll repeat it: the engineering staff is in charge of preparing and deploying the drones. The military personnel must stay alert, patrolling around the Seeker. You will be deployed in case of any anomaly, but proceed with caution; we don’t know what surprises space has for us. I want you ready for the unexpected.”

  At those words, we all nod.

  “If everything goes well, in a month we’ll be leaving the zone with our mission accomplished. Now, get up and go carry out your duties.”

  We stand and salute the captain before heading out to take our positions.