by J. N. Chaney
“It was a clean wound,” Path offered naturally.
“I don’t care how clean or straight it was. You need to go to the sick bay and have Jelly and X look at it,” I said.
“They already did,” she said.
“Neither of them told me. Interesting. I’m surrounded by idiots and traitors,” I muttered.
She pulled back her arm. “I’m fine. You’ll be the first person I tell if something really hurts.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “X, why the hell did you hold this back?”
“Miss Hastings asked me for confidentiality, something I recommend you honor, as it will increase the likelihood of her seeking medical attention in the future,” X-37 said. “Her welfare isn’t critical to yours at this moment, so I don’t see the problem.”
“Can we move on?” Elise demanded. “If we’re going to wander around this system and get ourselves killed, we might as well get started.”
“No one’s getting killed,” I said.
Elise stormed out of the room.
“You’re no help, Path,” I said.
“I will not argue with you about that or any other conclusion you wish to make,” he said, his mystic calm never wavering.
I had to admit, the man remained in character no matter what happened.
Shaking my head, I followed Elise and made a mental note to watch for injuries she would attempt to hide from me.
19
“The second facility is located closer to a planet,” Jelly explained. “It will be another seven hours before I am near enough to do a full scan and determine if there is a station there or just another debris field.”
I stared at the screen, marveling at how spectacular starfields were this far from the sun. The distant stars were brighter and I felt I could see the point we were heading to, even though it was impossible. The mind played tricks on mortals. “Have you detected any transmissions, maybe a distress call or something?”
“There is nothing to indicate the facility’s presence. If I wasn’t actively searching for something human made, I wouldn’t have noticed it,” Jelly said. “X-37 has been co-piloting for most of the voyage, checking over data to give me a second opinion. I have to say, your limited AI makes the most out of every bit of its processing potential.”
“Good to know. I thought he spent most of his spare time working on his next snappy comeback,” I said. “Which are all lame, by the way.”
“Shall we debate this issue?” X-37 asked.
“For seven hours? We better not. I’d like to get some food and some sleep, maybe a quick workout,” I said. “Let me know the moment you have something useful.”
I wandered the ship with no real aim in mind. There were several benefits to this. One, it was good to know the environment, whether it was on a ship or a planet or something else. Two, it helped me relax. I didn’t know if it was part of my personality or my training, but I hated sitting still. Only the rare occasions when I had both good companionship and the proper consumables could I truly relax.
The last place I’d seen Path was in the training room, of course. I checked in on him, and saw him sitting cross-legged meditating over his sword. Or taking a power nap. Or whatever.
I wasn’t in the mood to get thrashed again. There was still some tension from his actions in the debris field and we’d discussed this more than once. But all in all, he still wanted to teach me and I still wanted to learn. My encounter with Uriah had been a major wake-up call. Until then, I’d doubted any person could take me in single combat.
Which was stupid. My father taught me there was always somebody bigger and stronger and meaner. It was just a matter of time before that person showed up.
I backed out of the room and let the door close as quietly as possible.
A short time later, I located Elise on the observation deck. She looked like she had just showered and dressed for what we considered a formal dinner here on the Jellybird. Her jumpsuit looked new, and she’d actually dried and braided her hair. I almost backed out of this room as well, because she looked thoughtful and content.
“I like the observation deck,” I said, alerting her I had stepped into the room. There wasn’t a door to this area, only archways to the hallways beyond.
She turned to face me, then smiled, which surprised me. Apparently, I’d caught her in a relatively good mood. She waved a hand to one of the nearby chairs, inviting me to have a seat. “I’ve been looking back toward the debris field. Jelly has magnified and digitally enhanced the image, but it’s still crazy-far away. I’m always amazed how big a system is. Crossing one can take longer than traveling a slip tunnel, which I never expected when I was little.”
“How long have you been traveling slip tunnels?” I asked, sitting down. I started to reach for the cigar case but left it in my pocket.
“My father traveled a lot when I was young and brought me whenever he could. My mother traveled with us most of the time but not always. It’s hard to remember that far back,” she said.
I contemplated the starfield.
“Have you heard anything about my father?” she asked. “Not that I want to have anything to do with him.”
“Both Jelly and X-37 have standing orders to search any computer systems or data storage centers we come in contact with for mention of him,” I said. “So far, there hasn’t been any news.”
She nodded and studied the view. “I hate EVA suits.”
This made me laugh. “I’ve never met anyone who likes them.”
“There’s probably one freak out there that thinks it’s fun,” she said. “Kind of like there’s always someone who thinks sitting and meditating over a sword is a good time.”
“Path has his reasons. I don’t think he’s had an easy life. If discipline and quietude help him, I’m not the person to judge,” I said.
“That’s surprisingly insightful from someone like you,” she said.
“You think I’m judgmental?”
“You’re the most opinionated and foul-mouthed person I’ve ever met,” she said.
“But that’s not the same thing as being judgmental. As far as I’m concerned, people can live however they like so long as they don’t threaten anyone I care about. Then it’s irrelevant, because they don’t live much longer after that,” I said.
“How cheery,” she said.
“Path brought up a good point. Whether or not his actions were a justified lesson, I can’t really say. But it’s us against the Union. Neither of us should ever forget what that means, but we do. Because that’s how we make it through each day. But when the Union comes at us hard, we’re going to need everything we’ve got to survive. That includes technology, personal skills, and loyalty,” I said.
She focused on the stars. “You’re right. We should be training right now. Maybe you should be practicing with the mask. Tom said he can improve the weapons we have and build new ones. I should have a gun.”
I wanted to argue but I knew she was right. “You should have two guns, minimum. I’ll start teaching you how to shoot after the mission is done.”
“Really?”
“Sure, kid,” I said. “There will be a lot of things I need to teach you. It will take a lot of hard, consistent, and often boring work on your part. You have to train every day, give it your best effort. Treat every new skill learned like your life depends on it.”
“I can do that,” she promised.
20
We arrived a few hundred thousand kilometers from the second facility, slowing down as we approached the gas giant that was 1.5 billion kilometers from the system’s star.
The station orbited dangerously close to one of the gas giant’s icy rings. Long-range scans had shown no sign of other bases. Either they were cloaked or the second base was just as ruined as the first, but we were too far away to see the damage.
"And what about ships?" I asked. "What is the threat assessment?"
"I detect no enemy vessels," Jelly provided. "I'm running a seconda
ry scan to be certain."
Time passed slowly. I was alone on the bridge, having sent Tom and Elise to their quarters hours ago to get some rest. Path slept whenever he wanted to, so I wasn't worried about him. Henshaw had been in one of his moods, rarely responding to hails and never initiating communication for his own reasons.
"Is Henshaw alive or even on that ship?" I asked.
Jelly answered, "The Lady Faith assures me he is alive and well."
"I need to close my eyes for a bit," I said. "Just alert me when we confirm there is a facility at these coordinates."
I leaned back in the captain's chair, sinking into the formfitting cushions.
I rested as best as possible, letting each muscle group relax until I was on the verge of going unconscious.
Then my thoughts and concerns blossomed in a series of what-if scenarios.
Sitting up, I opened the work screen and begin to plan the next mission. I'd gone through my gear several times. When I wasn't teaching Elise the fundamentals of marksmanship or getting smashed over the head with one of Path’s practice swords, I improved my physical conditioning. I also worked on skills I hadn’t used or practiced for a long time, like explosive breaching and code hacking.
Maybe I also read one of Elise’s books.
I couldn't bring Path on the next mission. My anger had abated and there had been no new problems, but all we had done was practice hitting each other. Putting my faith in him during a life-and-death mission would be reckless.
X-37 rang a quiet, pleasant chime in my hearing. "We are approaching what seems to be a space station, Reaper Cain."
"Any signs of activity?" I asked, sitting up immediately. The main screen and several secondary systems were alive with activity. Numerous lights and images scrolled left to right below the main holo displays. I found these display options less distracting, but there were still a lot of them. I really needed a larger crew to handle the ship, small as it was.
"None, Captain," Jelly said. "There is a residual power reading, but this facility has been off-line for some time."
I called Elise and Tom, then advised them to get ready for the mission.
"The way we discussed?" Elise asked.
"Yes, just like that. We'll meet in the shuttle bay for a personal inspection and to review the briefing," I said.
They were both waiting in the bay when I arrived, which threw me off my stride. I'd expected them to fumble around for ten or fifteen minutes at least.
"Tom and I have already completed a check of each other's stuff,” Elise said, her excitement evident. She was practically jumping up and down.
"What's going on, kid?” I asked.
"We're going on a real mission," she said like I was stupid.
"The salvage operation in the debris field was a real mission," I said.
"But this is a real mission. I'm armed and I helped plan it," she said.
"You better not use that gun unless there's a really good reason," I said. "Just because you can hit a target doesn't mean you know how to use that thing."
Path entered the bay wearing his extra vehicle activity gear, helmet under one arm. His braided hair had been tied back for safety reasons. He had also removed most of his piercings.
"You're not coming with us," I said.
"There is nothing for me to do here. I have Union training and fighting skills that will be useful if you encounter something unpleasant," he said. His tone was as calm and unassuming as always.
Elise and Tom watched and waited.
"He's not wrong," X-37 pointed out.
I turned the palm of my left hand up and then back down as inconspicuous as possible, a signal I'd worked out with X-37 for him to drop it.
Path noticed the movement and raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you don't use more nonverbal communication with your limited AI," he said.
"You’re not going on this mission," I said.
For a moment, I thought I would see the man's calm exterior break. He held his breath for a second, then released it. His loss of temper was so transitory, I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or if he'd actually started to lose his cool.
"Why do you want to go on this mission so badly?" I asked him.
"I don't like to be left behind," he said.
I understood that. I'd been on enough dark ops missions and in enough regular battles to know that a soldier who was fearless in a fight could still dread being lost or separated from his or her unit.
I wavered but caught myself before I reversed my decision.
Path relented, then assisted by double-checking everyone's gear. I monitored him closely, in case he decided to steal any more air bottles. Before long, we were on the shuttle and heading for the station.
The facility was buried in a shadow on the dark side of the gas giant. It maintained an orbit among one of the rings of ice particles. Several times, I lost sight of it and had to ask X-37 to work with the shuttle's camera systems to show me where it was. Neither the laser nor radar scanners had an easy time penetrating the active camouflage of the place. Details of what lay on the surface of the place were hard to come by. Determining whether or not it had power was easy by comparison.
"What disturbs me is that this camouflage maintains itself despite the lack of power," Tom said, checking screens next to his piloting station.
"Power sources can be concealed," X-37 advised.
Tom shook his head. He wasn't having anything of that argument. "To a degree. If this is active camouflage, it will require power to read our scans and fabricate an image of nothing."
"We’ll treat this facility like it is functional and staffed with security teams," I said.
The shuttle’s lights illuminated part of the hangar. Everything around it was sharp angles and gray steel.
"Definitely a Union facility. They've got no sense of style," I said.
"I think we could find a place big enough for the Jellybird to land," Tom said, studying the schematics as more and more of the station came into view.
"Too risky. We land in the wrong place with the Jellybird and we lose everything. This way, we have options," I said. “Better to just lose a shuttle instead of the entire ship.”
Tom piloted the shuttle with steady, by-the-book skill. His cautious piloting style irritated me. I was coming to realize, however, that every member of my crew had to play their part if we were going to stand up against the Union. We checked each other’s gear with special emphasis on oxygen storage and suit integrity. I manually inspected cameras we’d placed on each helmet. If needed, I could make X-37 tell me what my companions were seeing. They also had the option to share view screens, but I ordered X-37 to turn that function off for now. It was often disorienting without training and practice.
"I'm on final approach. I'm not seeing any problems." Tom went through his checklist again and again, continuing to make small adjustments when a lesser pilot would have just accepted a slightly rougher touchdown.
"You're good in noncombat conditions," I said.
"I've had plenty of time in the simulator," Tom said. "Touching down in three, two, one, we’re on the deck."
The shuttle settled into its magnetic landing struts. I gathered my team at the exit and held up one hand for them to listen. "I'll go first and secure the landing zone. Once it's clear, we’ll move to the interior and determine if there is reliable atmosphere and gravity."
Tom and Elise nodded. It wasn't quite the response I was accustomed to from my years in the military, but it worked.
With my helmet sealed and my magnetic boots activated, I worked my way free of the shuttle and looked around the hangar. The place didn’t seem designed for personnel transfer, but for the unloading of equipment.
"I'm not seeing anything that surprises me," X-37 said. "There does not seem to be power, aside from a single atmospheric generator."
“I’m surprised that’s still active,” I said.
“Such systems are the last to be taken offline and often use sola
r energy to maintain themselves,” replied X.
I led my team inside, carefully searching for traps or ambushes. The place looked abandoned, but that didn't mean it was.
"Keep your helmets on. There could be toxins in the air we’re not detecting, and we don't know if this is stable or not," I said.
“What if this takes longer than three hours?" Elise asked.
"We'll be back in the shuttle before then," I said. "No arguments. Just stay safe and do what I tell you."
"We're in this together," Elise said. “It’s not like you're rescuing me from Dreadmax. We'll do what you say but don't treat us like that."
I headed down the hallway without acknowledging her complaint. Bringing them along was probably a mistake. My theory was proven correct after I'd spent more time checking their positions than searching my own areas.
"Focus, Reaper Cain," X-37 said.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I asked.
"I thought you were acting like somebody fresh out of training with no mission or combat experience," X-37 said. “What you’re doing is not leading. You’re micromanaging them.”
"Smartass," I said.
We found the main laboratory and had no trouble gaining access because the doors had been blown off.
"Don't touch anything," I said. There were obvious signs of a fight—destroyed equipment and bullet holes in the walls. Something about the scene made it feel even more ghostlike and abandoned, like this was the wrong place to be.
X-37 analyzed each section of the room as I moved through it, and we compared conclusions. Elise and Tom crept through other areas looking at desks, scanning equipment, and operating tables. X-37 gave me updates so I didn’t have to rely on watching through their helmet cameras.
There were three blast doors in case one area of the station suffered a fire or decompression. Two were closed. The one we used to enter had been blown from the outside or possibly cut by some sort of powerful torch and then exploded with additional breaching charges. The other two entrances were untouched.
