Before he could say more, Nora firmly steered him out of the simulator and went inside for her own hour. Compared to Yan's program, hers was much less... social... She started by drawing a chain of verdant, tropical islands in a turquoise sea. She then painstakingly transformed three distinct areas: one island had a strong, rumbling surf break that was ideal for boarding; another had a well-equipped dock that was stocked with top-notch jet skis; and the third had a large, cutting-edge concrete skate park. It took her almost 45 minutes to craft the fine details of the environment and object physics.
When Kieran arrived to bid her farewell fifteen minutes later, he discovered her drawing elegant lines on the skate park's mock concrete half-pipe. From the pipe's rim, he yelled her name. In response, she skated up the transition to meet him after performing a stunning aerial maneuver on the opposite lip. The last of the adrenaline's fire was still visible in her blue eyes. Her go-to casual attire included faded khaki cargo shorts, a vibrant tie-dye t-shirt, sturdy Teva sandals, and her trademark yellow headband, which held her blond hair back from her face.
Kieran said, "Nice moves," pointing to the skateboard she was holding. "When did you pick that up?"
"Dunno, exactly," Nora said with a shrug. "A while back, I studied the history of skateboarding. I decided to try the simulated version since it looked like fun. became addicted.
"Forever chasing the adrenaline, huh?" Kieran gave a gentle tease.
She smiled and held the board up a little. "Pretty much," she said. "The surfing simulation on the other island gets even crazier than this, though."
"Sounds like I should definitely stay away from that. Have fun with the remainder of your day.
"It's my turn at last," Kieran thought pleasantly. He had finished last in the simulator rotation due to some scheduling quirk or maybe just plain old luck. He just started the load command because he already had a favorite personal program saved. His simulation loaded: a large, brightly lit hangar full of finely detailed models of early Terran atmospheric aircraft, ranging from sailplanes and hang gliders to single-engine propeller trainers. Kieran's particular favorite was the hang glider. It provided the purest kind of flight, enabling him to glide silently on air currents while feeling totally cut off from the worries of the outside world.
As usual, the landing was the main obstacle. Even with flawless technique, he struggled to make graceful touchdowns due to his size and weight, and he often 'damaged' the simulated glider when he landed. The simulated repairs didn't bother him too much; it provided him with a methodical and soothing object to work on later. He had 'hand-built' the glider itself, following the simulator's design specifications: a frame of black anodized aluminum, with royal blue sailcloth stretched taut over it, painstakingly modeled after old schematics. It was a straightforward, tasteful piece of functional art to Kieran's technically inclined eye.
He carefully wheeled the lightweight glider out of the hangar onto the nearby clifftop runway after donning the required simulated safety gear, which included a harness, helmet, and goggles. This runway was part of the simulated hangar program. It was ideally located on a high cliff with a view of a wide, rocky terrain with patches of green moss. The terrain was chosen for its exceptional thermal updrafts. Armed with his protective gear, Kieran climbed into the glider's control frame and started to jog toward the precipice, accelerating into a run. He jumped out into the emptiness as he reached the precipice. He fell for an amazing moment, but then the wings snagged the rising thermal and he was soaring, silently suspended beneath the wide blue wings. Even though it was a familiar feeling, it was always completely thrilling.
The hour seemed to go by quickly. Kieran noticed he had about twenty minutes left in his time slot by looking at the working chronometer that was simulated on his left wrist, a habit he kept up even in the simulation. Hopefully enough time to carry out a landing approach and any simulated repairs that may be required.
Nora put down the datapad she had been writing story notes on and gazed at the cabin ceiling panel in another part of the Kyara. She had been intermittently working on the expansive story for years, but it had reached yet another frustrating dead end: writer's block. Oh no. Though they rarely lasted longer than a week, these creative blocks typically occurred once every month or two and were always incredibly annoying. She was now incredibly bored. Despite her best efforts, she was unable to come up with any interesting activities that were offered on board. Though it was only 1300 hours ship time at the moment, the tournament that began tomorrow promised excitement. She wondered absently why the dullest days always seemed to last the longest.
The simulator was the only really interesting distraction, but Kieran was using it now. Nevertheless, he probably wouldn't mind if she surreptitiously watched the program he was using. After making up her mind, she forced herself to get up from her seat and proceeded through the ship's silent hallways, passing the closed doors to the bridge and the engineering department. She briefly thought about asking Kieran later, after passing engineering, if he would give her a basic overview of the ship's systems; if she had any idea what she was looking at, it might be an interesting diversion. Kieran might be able to assist with that. As she arrived at the simulator entrance, the door opened with its usual gentle whir, allowing her entry.
After entering, she searched for Kieran. The interior of a sizable airplane hangar was shown in the current simulation. She didn't see Kieran right away, so she cautiously made her way inside and looked curiously at the different vintage planes parked there. She vaguely recognized them as primitive atmospheric fliers, but she had no idea which kinds they were—relics that had been out of use for thousands of years. She marveled at the ancient machines for a minute or two before hearing a loud crunching sound and then a whistling sound coming from outside the mock hangar doors. She rushed to the wide open doors, intrigued, and in time to see Kieran perform a rather spectacular crash-landing in his hang glider. He appeared to approach the clifftop runway at an angle that was much too steep, stalled the glider just above the ground, and then crashed the final few feet, striking the simulated earth nose-first at an angle of almost 90 degrees.
On impact, the flimsy-looking plane crumpled spectacularly. Unsure whether to be amused or worried, Nora jogged over to the wreckage. Kieran untangled himself from the simulated debris as she got closer, took off his helmet, flung both arms in the air, and then let out an ear-splitting whoop of excitement that reverberated throughout the simulated landscape.
"HAHAOOOO! "Yes!" Nora was still not visible to him.
"Uh... Kieran?" Nora took a cautious risk. "Am I supposed to interpret that... landing... as a success?"
Startled, Kieran turned around. "Oh! Hello, Nora. I didn't see you. "Not exactly a success, but believe it or not, far from my worst landing attempt," he said sheepishly, pointing to the crumpled glider.
Nora peered doubtfully at the mock wreckage. "Whoa. The truly ugly ones must be... something to see if this isn't your worst.
"You have no idea," Kieran said with a regretful laugh. "I once completely miscalculated the wind and struck the cliff face about fifty feet below the runway. After that, I learned to aim a little higher, which is why... well, this." He pointed to the wreck once more.
"All right. Before you are able to actually kill yourself virtually, how about we end this simulation and have lunch?"
With a shrug, Kieran turned off the simulation. The typical white room took the place of the hangar. "Lunch sounds delicious. Are you willing to prepare meals?
"I hadn't intended to do it. I assumed you might.
"Me? I can only operate nutrient synthesizers as a chef," Kieran acknowledged. "The Kyara's unit is fortunately quite sophisticated. In addition to the typical synthetic paste that most ships provide, it is capable of producing edible meals.
"Tell you what," retorted Nora. "How about we have dinner planetside tonight, all five of us? In this manner, none of us must consume anything that has been synthesized. Win-win.
"Sounds like a plan."