The engineers glanced at each other again, then they nodded. Quinley bit zir lip before expelling a burst of air and explaining, “This was designed for a purpose, and people were snuck onto multiple PCCSs in order to install these, so we have to assume two things. One, whatever this accomplishes will be incredibly important to someone in the quadrant, and two, they’re going to do whatever they must to give their work the best chances of success.”
“And if I were the one planning something like this,” Tinker added quietly, “I’d make sure trying to interfere with the device would only set it off sooner.”
“Well…at least we know setting it off would do one thing,” Halver said, exhaustion seeping into his words.
“What’s that?” Quinley didn’t look like ze really wanted to hear the answer. Riston didn’t want to hear it, either, especially since ze thought ze might already know.
Halver sighed. “We’ll finally find out what happened to the other ships.”
Sometimes, being right sucked.
“Hold.” Halver’s sharp command instantly halted the whole line. After tilting his head to listen to something Riston couldn’t hear, Halver signaled to one of the security team. When the officer came closer, Halver whispered, “Someone’s ahead. We’re not in good position to attempt a capture, but if we come out at separate angles, we might be able to cover enough of the tunnel with enough fire to—”
“Wait!” Tink licked her lips and whistled a quick four-note tune.
Halver turned to stare at her, forehead furrowed and lips pursed with anger. His attention snapped back to the main tunnel, though, when a three-note response floated up from below.
Tinker smiled. “I told them not to do this, but apparently I’m not the only one who isn’t listening to orders anymore. It’s safe, Commander. The only people down there are our friends.”
For several seconds, Halver and the nearer security officer had a conversation in glances and gestures. Finally, Halver sighed, rubbed his hand over his face, and turned toward the opening that led down to the main passage. “Back up against the wall, drop anything you’re holding, and keep your hands in plain sight. If I get a whiff of anything I don’t like, I will fire first and sort out what happened later. Are we clear?”
Riston held zir breath and counted to five before the answer finally came up.
“Clear, sir.” Treble’s voice echoed off the walls, the tone too full of strain to sound as musical as Riston was used to hearing. Given the news Riston still had to deliver, that strain was only going to get worse. Ze closed zir eyes and listened to the faint shuffling sounds and soft thuds coming from below. Only once it had been silent for several seconds did Treble call out again. “We’re ready.”
“Let’s hope we are, too,” Halver muttered. Another quick, quiet conference with the security officer had them rearranging their positions. Then, with the officer in front, weapon drawn, they began to leave the cramped confines of the tunnel.
Riston forced zirself to breathe again, but it was hard to keep from hyperventilating. Anxiety had every one of zir nerves frayed and firing, causing zir heart to pound too hard and zir breathing to become too shallow. Everything hinged on the next several minutes, and it would be so easy for things to go wrong. If Halver or the security team felt threatened and overreacted, another one of zir friends could get hurt. Or worse.
“It’ll be okay, Zazi,” Tink whispered, although she didn’t sound as certain as Riston thought she wanted to be. “Treble and Greenie know how to stay safe. They’ll be fine.”
Riston so wished that were true.
When ze reached the edge of the tunnel, ze could finally look down on the scene playing out below. Treble and Greenie had done exactly as Halver requested and pressed themselves flat against the opposite wall, their hands held up in obvious surrender. They’d gone one step further than Halver demanded and stripped down to the same jumpsuit Tink had presented herself in. A few meters away from them was the pile of clothing Tinker had created. It was three times as high now with the addition of two more sets of clothing.
Greenie had his attention locked on Halver and the security officer, but Treble’s dual-colored gaze snapped toward Riston as soon as ze appeared in the passageway’s entrance. Relief filled her face, and her expression got even brighter when ze began to descend and Tinker appeared, too. Riston was glad to turn zir back to her as ze climbed down to the main passage. Looking at her made zem remember all the secrets ze hadn’t told them yet. Time was running out. Soon, probably seconds from now, ze’d have to tell them exactly how ze’d failed.
“How many more of you are there?” Halver asked, frustration in each word.
“This is it. Shadow is number five,” Treble said. “He’s the only one missing.”
Missing. Riston flinched at the word and almost slipped off the final step on the ladder. Oh, how ze wished Shadow was simply missing. Ze took a deep breath when zir feet landed on solid ground, squared zir shoulders, and turned to take responsibility for…well, for everything.
But how could ze tell them? What words could ze possibly use to explain what ze’d found in that tunnel and how agonizing it had been to make the decision to go to medical or how much worse it had been when ze finally learned of Shadow’s fate? Ze faced them head on, forced zirself to meet their gazes, and opened zir mouth. Words wouldn’t come. Zir mind was as empty as the vast space between stars.
“What happened?” Greenie shifted forward, almost like he wanted to walk closer and was barely able to hold himself in place. “Zazi, you look…”
Riston honestly didn’t want to know what ze looked like. Ze cleared zir throat and let zirself drop zir gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get to Shadow in time. I couldn’t…I didn’t save him.”
“No. You— What?” Greenie did take a step forward then. No one stopped him. Halver even stepped aside entirely to leave the space between Riston, Treble, and Greenie empty.
“Where is he now? Did anyone even try to save him?” Grief and accusation wove through Treble’s voice. Riston slumped under the weight of her words.
“The doctor took him into surgery as soon as I brought him into medical, but the injuries…” Zir breath caught. Pressing zir hand over zir mouth was barely enough of a distraction to keep zem from beginning to cry. “Dr. Naess tried. Ze tried, but it was too late.”
“How…” Treble looked at Riston and then past zem, and Riston cringed. Tinker was back there. She’d heard everything. The others hadn’t yelled at or blamed zem yet. Would she be the first? Riston wouldn’t hold that kind of reaction against any of them. Screaming censure at zirself wasn’t punishment enough for what had happened to their friend.
But Tinker didn’t say anything to Riston as she passed zem. Instead, she looked at Halver and, with exquisite politeness, said, “It seems like we should keep moving, sir. Do you mind if I put my layers back on? It’s a little cold in here.”
“I, uh, no. Of course.” Halver cleared his throat, a flush spreading across his beige skin and his gaze shifting uneasily from one person to the next. “You can all put your clothes back on and pick up your gear. Tinker is right. We need to get back to the captain.”
Tinker moved immediately, but the other two only started grabbing belongings and putting themselves back together after Tink touched their arms, nudging them into action.
The trip back to medical gave Riston a new understanding of silence. Had the emptiness of vacuum found its way into the ship? It seemed like the only explanation for the way a lack of sound could press against zir eardrums like screaming. Awareness of zir family around zem—and the distance they were keeping—was worse. Was it only because of their audience or had zir failure completely broken the ties that had bound them all together yesterday?
Maybe. If so, it might be exactly what ze deserved.
Through the halls, into the elevator—a tight fit with thirteen people—and up to deck six. The trip was too short. The silence was never-ending. And then cool finge
rs brushed zir wrist, capturing zir attention.
“Ris?” Cira’s voice was low and soft, but it still sounded loud after the quiet that preceded it. “You did everything you could. More than anyone could’ve expected.”
And yet look what happened. But she was offering kindness when the others only seemed to be pulling away, and ze wouldn’t—couldn’t—refuse that. Ze especially couldn’t refuse it when she’d managed to get this close despite the watchful eyes of Halver and the other crew. Forcing a fraction of a smile, ze turned zir hand and let zir fingers brush hers, taking comfort in the touch.
When the doors to medical opened, Erryla, Meida, Farran, and Adrienn were there waiting. More of the medical staff had returned, too. Several nurses had been busy working on restocking storage compartments, but everything paused when Riston, Cira, Tink, Treble, and Greenie entered the room.
“Cira,” Meida began before immediately cutting herself off. Riston wondered what else she would’ve said and how what she was holding back now would impact her relationship with Cira. It had seemed like her mothers were beginning to forgive Cira. Was being forced to face the depth of Cira’s disobedience, looking at all five of the stowaways at once, pushing her mothers back into rage and distance?
“They claim this is everyone,” Halver reported even though the command crew must’ve heard everything through the open comm line.
“And, oddly, I’m inclined to believe them,” Erryla said. “On this, at least.”
They conferred about other things until a small voice pulled Riston’s attention away.
“I need to say goodbye, Zazi.”
Riston looked down, surprised to find Tink standing at zir elbow. Ze nearly asked her to repeat herself, but ze’d heard. It was zir own reluctance to do what she was asking that made zem want to pretend otherwise.
“What did she say?” Erryla stepped closer, her eyes narrowed.
“She asked if we… Can we…” Zir throat closed, locking the words away. The others were waiting. They needed zem to speak for them and get them what they needed. No one else could or would do it for them. Ze knew that, but it still took several seconds before ze could force zirself to speak again. “Would it be possible for us to say goodbye to Shadow?”
Someone—Meida, maybe—made a wounded sound. A couple of the nurses shifted uncomfortably and even one of the security officers looked at their feet as though ashamed. Erryla was the only one who continued to hold Riston’s gaze, and even she looked affected.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat, cast a quick look at her daughter, and then she turned. “Follow me.”
Riston let the others go first, but ze also did as instructed and followed the captain around the wall dividing most of the medical bay in half. It was only possible to do because ze didn’t look where ze was going; ze traveled by watching the feet of the person ahead of zem instead. Even when they all stopped, Riston didn’t look up, not ready to face this reality again.
“The barrier isn’t up,” Erryla said, unexpectedly gentle. “You can go in whenever you’re ready.”
Riston looked up enough to nod zir thanks. After that, though, ze didn’t know what to do. Ze was stuck in place, afraid to see proof of Shadow’s fate again. Tinker was the one who moved first, walking slowly but steadily toward the far end of the bay. When Greenie followed, he moved fast, and Riston wasn’t sure if he was trying to catch up with Tink or in a hurry to get this over with. Then Treble was the only one besides Riston lingering at the entrance to quarantine.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Her whisper was barely louder than a breath; Riston wasn’t sure she’d even meant to speak aloud. Then she blinked and seemed to realize Riston was watching her. She glanced zir way and smiled, so much more pain in the expression than Riston had thought a smile could ever contain. “That was supposed to be me. Probably would’ve been if Cira hadn’t found me when she did. If any one of us was going to die, it should’ve been me.”
“No.” Heart lurching, Riston faced her, grabbing her arm and holding on until she met zir eyes. “Don’t say that. You can’t think like that. We all came from a life that could’ve or should’ve killed us. It’s why any of us are here. But surviving horrible things doesn’t make us due. We don’t owe the galaxy for taking up space as though it’s somehow supposed to belong to someone else, and I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that’s how things work.”
The words spilled out, and ze knew they were true, but ze also knew ze didn’t believe them, not for zirself. Treble, though? Ze absolutely believed this for sweet, strong Treble. She deserved to be here, to take up space and demand the right to create a life for herself that included something beyond sheer survival.
She laughed, the sound thick with impending tears. “I’ll accept that when you do, Zazi.”
“We’ll work on it together.” Ze held out zir hand and was almost able to smile when she slid her fingers through zirs and squeezed.
Then, with forced, far from believable cheer, she said, “It’s not like we’ll have anything else to do in prison, right?”
Riston spluttered and laughed, but in the space of a single breath, zir laughter morphed into chest-constricting sobs. Through blurry eyes, ze saw Treble’s face twist with regret and sorrow, and then she used her grip on zir hand to pull zem into a tight hug. It took several minutes before either of them could let go of the other long enough to walk across the room where Tink and Greenie were waiting. Tink had bent close to where Shadow’s head would be inside the white bag encasing him and was whispering something with intense focus. A meter from the foot of the bed stood Greenie, one arm wrapped around his own stomach and the other hand covering his eyes. For a while, minutes at least, half an hour at most, the four surviving Novis stowaways surrounded the body of their fallen friend, each saying goodbye in their own way.
Tinker straightened when her words ran out, wiping at her face and sniffing loudly. Red rimmed her brown eyes and splotches of color had spread across her beige skin, but there was something strong under her sorrow, a determination that made her pull her shoulders back and stare right into Riston’s eyes.
“We need to find the person who did this.” Tink sucked in a deep breath that shuddered only faintly on the exhale. “We have to, or we have to find a way to help the crew do it. I don’t care which.”
“That’s not exactly our decision,” Riston gently reminded the girl.
“But it is someone’s.” Treble looked over her shoulder, and a change came over her. Maybe Tinker’s determination was contagious, because somehow Treble found the strength to straighten up, clean off her own face, and begin walking toward the door. The rest of them were quick to follow.
They stopped just inside the quarantine bay. Treble took one more step, putting herself slightly in front, and she looked directly at the captain. “Thank you. If there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know. Or would you like us to stay in here?”
The offer to voluntarily remain imprisoned made Meida and Halver blink. She seemed impressed, but he just looked surprised. Cira smiled, relief and pride in her expression. Erryla, as far as Riston could tell, had no reaction at all. The captain studied each of them in turn, her gaze steady and her search thorough. Riston wasn’t sure what she was looking for or what she found, but after a full minute of silent judgment, Erryla delivered her verdict.
“I reserve the right to revoke this privilege at any time, and there will be dozens of rules and restrictions you will have to abide by, but in our current circumstances, help is not something I can afford to turn away.”
“Anything,” Riston said immediately. “Whatever your conditions are, it’s fine, Captain. Please, just tell us what you want us to do.”
Security Feed Video Record
Vohtu Interdisciplinary Research Center, Draconis System
Terra-Sol date 3803.319
Transcript below
Dr. Lasalia Nadar: So, you’re actually head of the Intersystem Alliance of Scientis
ts. [shakes head] Is this what happens when someone applies for reconsideration? I like the personal touch and all, but it seems excessive.
Dr. Yalena Vasile: [nods] It would be, if that was why I came here. Unfortunately, the IAS has still decided to reject your membership.
L.N.: [a pause] In that case, I really don’t understand why you’re here. What can I possibly do for the IAS?
Y.V.: In part, I wanted to apologize for the outcome of your application. I wasn’t the first to vote no, but it was my decision that pushed the count into the negative.
L.N.: And now you’re here. [pause] But not on IAS business.
Y.V.: Do you know who Zoyani Ilunga is?
L.N.: [looking surprised] The rights lawyer?
Y.V.: Exactly. I kept you out of the IAS because I hope to convince you to join a different organization, one Zoyani is forming. If you say yes, you’ll be part of something with more potential to impact and improve lives in the quadrant than any group or project in existence.
L.N.: That’s quite a claim. [pause] What happens if I say no?
Y.V.: I’ll dose you with a compound that will erase your memory of this meeting. You’ll get a letter from the IAS in a few days with the application denial, and it’ll include a note urging you to consider reapplying in a year. If you do, you’ll be accepted, and you’ll get to continue with the useful, but ultimately pointless work you’ve been doing.
L.N.: [bristling] Pointless?
Y.V.: Poor phrasing. I’m sorry. [sympathetically] It’s hard to see the whole playing field when we’re talking in terms of galactic quadrants and relative centuries, but you must be able to understand this. No matter how much the technology of space travel improves or how many more stars and planets full of resources we find, this war won’t end. We’ll find reasons and ways to fight for as long as we’re allowed to continue.
Pax Novis Page 25
