Reality Skimming

Ann’s Grip from Courtesan Prince

Ann felt huge beside them, although the milk toast medic out-massed her considerably and even the woman was a little bigger. She felt like a sun contemplating going nova with fat, cold gas giants in orbit thinking they could stop it somehow.

Pilot ego, people called that.

Ann had read enough of the stuff people like Lurol wrote about to know how they felt about it, too. But she did not think she was better than other Reetions. She could read her psych profile and rank herself on every scale of achievement Rire admired as objectively as anyone. She was smart, as pilots went, but no where near as intellectually gifted as people like Lurol and Ranar. She had good health and a sturdy constitution, but she was no Olympian. She was physical and had a thing about sex that drew attention from counsellors. But she could wad up all she knew about who she was, hold it in her hands, and contemplate stuffing it down the universe's indifferent throat.

That's what made her a pilot.

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