Slipstream

The scientists haven’t figured out what exactly the slipstream is. Is it a wormhole, a system of cosmic strings, or even another dimension? They don’t know, and I don’t care. To me, the slipstream is a living thing, sometimes a friend, sometimes an enemy as I fly my slipship, the Tazz, through it, smuggling goods to a thousand worlds. I’m approaching an entrance to it now. I can’t see it, because you can’t actually see the entrances, but they’ve got a lot of dark matter around them.
“Cas, set engines to harmonic value,” I told the onboard computer. Yeah, I talk to the computer. You wouldn’t believe how lonely some of those long hauls can be.

“Engines at harmonic value,” Cas replied. I had already felt the subtle difference in the vibrations.

“Set slipshields.”

“Slipshields set.”

“Dels in.”

“Delta fins in.”

“Cans in.”

“Maneuvering canards in.”

“Stabs out.”

“Stabilizers out.”

“Count down distance to entrance.”

“Five thousand karzoffs.”

I got up and headed back to the cargo bay and fusion reactor to make sure everything was tied down. I was hauling two tons of sulfide aluminite and if that stuff got loose, it could melt through the hull. As I came back to the cockpit, I made sure all of the hatches were shut.

“Two thousand karzoffs.”

I sat down and strapped myself in and put on the smart helmet, making sure that it was plugged in. The readouts looked right.

“One thousand karzoffs.”

Suddenly, the world went black. Then the translucent, electric blue tunnels of the slipstream opened up before me. I flipped a switch on the control panel and the helmet’s readouts changed to slipstream mode.
There are no maps of the slipstream because some parts are very unstable and change every day. Some parts, though, haven’t changed since the slipstream was discovered. In the slipstream, the best way to navigate involves shooting out radar waves along the edge of the tunnel. If another ship is coming, the walls will be distorted slightly and your results will show that. If there are q-traps or drop-offs ahead, it will show that, too. The returning radar waves are analyzed by Cas and the results are shown on my helmet as the odds of something being ahead.
If something is ahead, there are three options. You can do nothing and hit whatever is coming (I don’t recommend that), you can deharmonize the reactor and get out of the slipstream (if you do that, it’s almost impossible to get back in), or you can try and roll through the stagnant zone between the tunnels. If you’re lucky, you can wind up in another tunnel. If you aren’t, you’re marooned in the stagnant zone forever. You don’t die; you’re just stuck in a zone where time stands still. If you look hard, beyond the tunnel, you can see the dim shapes of ships that weren’t lucky. They still have their crews on them.
The numbers scrolled across the helmet’s visor as the Tazz flew along the translucent tunnels, supported by the slipshields. I love the slipstream. It’s the only think that I can count on in life.


“Kaze ahead—95% odds.”
Uh-oh. A kaze is a distortion that means another ship is coming.
“Cas, cut out the slipshields—now. We’re going to roll.”
I pulled on the control yoke and we broke through the tunnel wall. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I caught a glimpse of black, with blue tubes shooting through it. Then the Tazz was approaching the next tube. But something was wrong. We weren’t going to make it inside the next tunnel. I reached out to the control board, cut in the slipshields and waited for time to end. It didn’t. We were skimming along the outside of the tube, with only three nanometers of slipshield between us and stagnation. If I tried to roll into the tunnel, I’d miss and be on the other side of it.
Ahead of us, an intersection loomed, running at right angles to my tunnel. I had to get off of this tunnel, now. I couldn’t roll into the approaching tunnel; the angles were wrong. I had to pull another risky move. I shut off the leftmost of the twin slipshields and forced the Tazz’s left side down, into the tunnel, then I shut off the second slipshield and pushed the right side into the tunnel. Once Tazz was in the slipstream, I cut in the slipshields again.
Half an hour later, I exited the slipstream.
“Shut down slipshields.”

“Slipshields shut down.”

“Dels out.”

“Delta fins out.”

“Cans out.”

“Maneuvering canards out.”

“Stabs in.”

“Stabilizers in.”

“Reactors deharmonized.”

“Reactors are deharmonized.”
Mission accomplished. Now all I had to do was get to Lasang without getting caught. Unfortunately, a big Convention cruiser saw me.
“Unknown ship, this is the Convention cruiser Derna. Please identify yourself.”
I couldn’t outrun the cruiser, and I was too close to my port of call to retreat back into the slipstream. Time to bluff.
“Derna, this is the Starlight Spacelines Flight Star Runner. The flight number is 224.”
“What is your cargo?”
“Two tons of aluminide ore. Why do you want to know?”
“We’ve received information that smugglers have been using this route and we are checking all ships that enter or exit the slipstream here. Star Runner, thank you for your cooperation. You may procede.”
Whew. Curse that Convention crackdown on smuggling. I thought. For now, I’m safe. But how am I supposed to leave after dropping off my cargo at Lasang?