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Description
I built this base terrain so that I could photograph multiple story scenes on it. This one and The Way Back are two such scenes. The figures stand on their own so I can move them around as I please.

more views of the figures
__________

Fright or Flight

This is nuts, was all I could think as I practiced the power-up procedure for the twenty-seventh time. To an experienced pilot, this step is as automatic as putting the key in the ignition and warming up the car, at least for those who still drive. Docking with the ship, on the other hand, is like parallel parking in three dimensions while taking an exam on advanced mathematics, and most people never truly master it. At least that’s how Rashid put it after pulling off an exceptionally smooth landing on the plains sixteen days ago. I likened the power-up procedure to preparing a patient for a major surgery. Sure, it’s not as demanding as the task ahead, but the tiniest error can lead to catastrophic consequences.

“Take-off is nothing like landing,” said Erin when we moved on to the next part of the lesson. “When you’re landing, the terrain whizzes by you and leaves you with almost no time to think. You just have to do it by feel. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of failure before you get the hang of it.” She took a moment to glance at the screen in front of her. On it were four lights, all green. “That part of training was a real nightmare for me. Gave me nightmares, too.”

And here I only had the rest of the day to learn the ins and outs of flying. The way she put it, our situation was hopeless.

“Luckily for us,” she went on, “we’re not landing anywhere tomorrow.” Erin reached over to my side and hit a button. A circular grid appeared on one of the monitors. “Once we set a trajectory, it’s a simple matter –”

“Wait, how are you going to do that when we’re flying?”

“Huh?” she said. “Do what?”

“What you just did. You had to get out of your seat to reach that button. How’re you going to do that when we’re strapped in?”

“I’m not.” She looked at me with something like pity, or resignation perhaps. “Everything from the portside window to the center panel, that’s your responsibility.”

There were about a hundred switches, three dozen dials, five displays, and three joysticks in the area in question. They were labeled in English and Russian, but not Mandarin. It was bad enough that the type was almost too small to read from the seat. “I have to know all of that?”

“Every button. Well, okay. Most of them.”

By evening I had a good grasp of the startup sequence and docking maneuvers, but the rest was still a mystery to me. Erin wanted to continue the session but we were making little progress at this late hour. Her already thin patience had run dry long ago and neither of us had eaten since morning.

“Why don’t we call it a night,” I said. “If we get an early start we can finish tomorrow but there’s no point in staying up through dawn. We have to sleep.”

Erin turned to me to protest. I don’t remember what she said, because all I could do was gape. Had she not been speaking, I would have thought I was staring into the cold eyes of the undead. There was no living, working human inside that suit, only a body pulled from the bottom of a lake, with flesh the color of concrete, ready to fall off the bone. Her eyes were only half open, recessed in their orbits as if afraid of the sunlight. For a split second I wanted to run outside, but only the thought of exposure frightened me more than the specter sitting beside me.

“Y…y…you’re not well.”

“I haven’t slept.”

That can’t be all, I thought after coming to my senses. Having worked with astronauts for fifteen years, I’ve seen my share of insomnia in all its forms. No, that couldn’t be it, but I had an idea what might be ailing her. I’d been keeping an eye on an abscess that had formed where the archer’s stinger pierced her upper arm. If released into the bloodstream, the infection could spread to the rest of her body and cause a high fever, organ failure, and death if not treated in time. We had to get back right away - not just to our campsite, but to Odyssey’s medical bay. That wasn’t an option at the moment, so a prompt return to base camp would have to suffice.

On the walk up here, Erin had me by the arm the whole way. She talked all the while to keep me calm, to divert my attention from the open land that stretched from camp to shuttle. She tried her best to take my mind off the events that had transpired two days ago, and the way everything seemed to fall apart afterward. She talked about the house she grew up in, how there were two small lakes within walking distance and a large one only twenty kilometers away. I should visit the area sometime, she said, and see for myself just how beautiful it gets in the spring. Right as I was about to promise a visit, I found myself in the comforting shadow of Little Iliad.

Now it was my turn to take the lead. Just as she had supported me on the way to the shuttle, I carried the weight home. There were no words, just the scrape of boots on the gravel-strewn riverbed where a tributary of Raya’s Ravine once flowed. There was no fear. How could I be afraid of death when the prospect of spending the rest of my life on this planet was so much more terrifying?

- Luo Ping, medic, Odyssey I

__________

Read the rest here.

Description
I built this base terrain so that I could photograph multiple story scenes on it. This one and The Way Back are two such scenes. The figures stand on their own so I can move them around as I please.

more views of the figures
__________

Fright or Flight

This is nuts, was all I could think as I practiced the power-up procedure for the twenty-seventh time. To an experienced pilot, this step is as automatic as putting the key in the ignition and warming up the car, at least for those who still drive. Docking with the ship, on the other hand, is like parallel parking in three dimensions while taking an exam on advanced mathematics, and most people never truly master it. At least that’s how Rashid put it after pulling off an exceptionally smooth landing on the plains sixteen days ago. I likened the power-up procedure to preparing a patient for a major surgery. Sure, it’s not as demanding as the task ahead, but the tiniest error can lead to catastrophic consequences.

“Take-off is nothing like landing,” said Erin when we moved on to the next part of the lesson. “When you’re landing, the terrain whizzes by you and leaves you with almost no time to think. You just have to do it by feel. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of failure before you get the hang of it.” She took a moment to glance at the screen in front of her. On it were four lights, all green. “That part of training was a real nightmare for me. Gave me nightmares, too.”

And here I only had the rest of the day to learn the ins and outs of flying. The way she put it, our situation was hopeless.

“Luckily for us,” she went on, “we’re not landing anywhere tomorrow.” Erin reached over to my side and hit a button. A circular grid appeared on one of the monitors. “Once we set a trajectory, it’s a simple matter –”

“Wait, how are you going to do that when we’re flying?”

“Huh?” she said. “Do what?”

“What you just did. You had to get out of your seat to reach that button. How’re you going to do that when we’re strapped in?”

“I’m not.” She looked at me with something like pity, or resignation perhaps. “Everything from the portside window to the center panel, that’s your responsibility.”

There were about a hundred switches, three dozen dials, five displays, and three joysticks in the area in question. They were labeled in English and Russian, but not Mandarin. It was bad enough that the type was almost too small to read from the seat. “I have to know all of that?”

“Every button. Well, okay. Most of them.”

By evening I had a good grasp of the startup sequence and docking maneuvers, but the rest was still a mystery to me. Erin wanted to continue the session but we were making little progress at this late hour. Her already thin patience had run dry long ago and neither of us had eaten since morning.

“Why don’t we call it a night,” I said. “If we get an early start we can finish tomorrow but there’s no point in staying up through dawn. We have to sleep.”

Erin turned to me to protest. I don’t remember what she said, because all I could do was gape. Had she not been speaking, I would have thought I was staring into the cold eyes of the undead. There was no living, working human inside that suit, only a body pulled from the bottom of a lake, with flesh the color of concrete, ready to fall off the bone. Her eyes were only half open, recessed in their orbits as if afraid of the sunlight. For a split second I wanted to run outside, but only the thought of exposure frightened me more than the specter sitting beside me.

“Y…y…you’re not well.”

“I haven’t slept.”

That can’t be all, I thought after coming to my senses. Having worked with astronauts for fifteen years, I’ve seen my share of insomnia in all its forms. No, that couldn’t be it, but I had an idea what might be ailing her. I’d been keeping an eye on an abscess that had formed where the archer’s stinger pierced her upper arm. If released into the bloodstream, the infection could spread to the rest of her body and cause a high fever, organ failure, and death if not treated in time. We had to get back right away - not just to our campsite, but to Odyssey’s medical bay. That wasn’t an option at the moment, so a prompt return to base camp would have to suffice.

On the walk up here, Erin had me by the arm the whole way. She talked all the while to keep me calm, to divert my attention from the open land that stretched from camp to shuttle. She tried her best to take my mind off the events that had transpired two days ago, and the way everything seemed to fall apart afterward. She talked about the house she grew up in, how there were two small lakes within walking distance and a large one only twenty kilometers away. I should visit the area sometime, she said, and see for myself just how beautiful it gets in the spring. Right as I was about to promise a visit, I found myself in the comforting shadow of Little Iliad.

Now it was my turn to take the lead. Just as she had supported me on the way to the shuttle, I carried the weight home. There were no words, just the scrape of boots on the gravel-strewn riverbed where a tributary of Raya’s Ravine once flowed. There was no fear. How could I be afraid of death when the prospect of spending the rest of my life on this planet was so much more terrifying?

- Luo Ping, medic, Odyssey I

__________

Read the rest here.