by Berg,Alex P.
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry. I went against your wishes the last time I was aboard your ship, and when confronted with that fact, I tried to hide it. If nothing else, I responded in a flippant and arrogant manner. I shouldn’t have behaved that way. This is your ship, and from now on, I intend to obey all your rules and regulations—if you’ll have me and my team, of course.”
Rhees rose, turned, and stepped forward to face me. She regarded me studiously for a moment before speaking. “You know, Mr. Weed, given our prior interactions, I’d suspected you’d continue your irreverent behavior, but I’m glad to have been proven wrong. Apology accepted. And believe me, I’m glad to be saying that. I didn’t want to have to disobey a direct order from a superior.”
“You received word from Officer Chatterjee then?” I asked.
Rhees shook her head. “Not Chatterjee. His superior, Commander Matsura. You must’ve made a convincing argument, because she gave me no leeway in her short missive.”
“I tried.”
Much to Tarja’s dismay, I’d made my case to Chatterjee to be let aboard the Agapetes for her next warp burst through an unheralded manner—by telling the truth, or at least most of it. I’d shared my lamprey theory with the man and explained how the Agapetes would present an appetizing target to the pirates if indeed they hid within the asteroid belt. I only left out the little modification Paige had successfully made to InterSTELLA’s centralized travel database. I’m not entirely sure if Vijay believed my theory or if he simply wanted to get me out of his hair for a few weeks, but he said tagging along with the Agapetes’ crew wouldn’t hurt anything, so he’d take care of it.
Captain Rhees clasped her hands behind her back. “I, of course, read the statement Officer Matsura relayed to me about your theory, the one about the pirates piggybacking on our hull. It seems plausible, however unlikely, but answer me this. Do you have any actual evidence suggesting we’re a target going forward, or is that pure speculation?”
“It’s speculation,” I admitted. “But informed nonetheless. Not that I’m in any position to give you advice, but if I were, I’d suggest proceeding with caution and trying to be prepared for anything. That’s how I’m approaching this trip, anyway.”
Rhees eyed my shoulder holster. “I can see that. And while I agree you’re not in a position to advise me, I do agree with your general sentiments. I’ll be sure to meet with my crew and advise them to stay armed and alert at all times, and I’ll convey your theories to engineering. We’ll keep an eye on our external surveillance systems, as well as our energy draws once we enter warp. However—“ Rhees narrowed her eyes and turned down the thermostat. “—don’t for a minute think because I’m letting you back aboard my ship and putting some weight behind your suggestions that you can disobey my wishes, either explicit or implicit. If I say march, I expect you to march. Don’t interfere with my crew, their duties, or their individual wishes. And if I find out you’re snooping in any of their private quarters again, well…let me remind you the Agapetes does have a brig, and it’s not particularly pleasant to spend extended periods of time in. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded. Rhees eyed Carl and Ducic, and they followed suit.
“Very well,” said Rhees. “I’ll take you at your word, so welcome aboard. Now to specifics. I’ve consolidated my crew into three of the ship’s quarters, leaving one for all of you to share, including your bounty hunter companion. It may be tight, given Curator Ducic’s anatomy, but you’ll have to make do. Urrupain will escort you there, and if you have any questions, you can direct them to him.
“As far as our trip to Sol, we’re waiting on the last of the cargo, but it should arrive shortly. Estimated departure is in just over ten standard galactic hours. As I’ve already made clear to you, I hate being late. So don’t do anything to make us tardy. Understand?”
I indicated that I did, as did my companions, and Rhees dismissed us. Urrupain ushered us down the hallway and back to the lift.
As we all piled in, the grim-faced man broke his silence. “I must admit, I’m surprised to find you as mates for the duration of this trip, but if Captain Rhees accepts you, so do I. I’ll lead you to your quarters and allow you to settle in.”
The lift sprang to life. “Actually, Carl can take care of that,” I said. “I was hoping you might be able to show me where I could practice my marksmanship.” I patted the pulse pistol.
Urrupain eyed me curiously. “Why would you need to do that?”
“Preparedness, my friend.” And that fact that my encounter with the pirates on the small, hollowed-out asteroid weighed heavily on my mind. If I was right and pirates attacked the Agapetes again, I’d need to be sharper than I was before. Much sharper.
25
I stood at a window, staring into the inky black sea of the cosmos. I could make out a few hundred gleaming points of light within, though I knew there were a hundred million more I couldn’t see even in my narrow field of vision. A cluster in the middle of the porthole had caught my eye, and Paige, being the helpful soul she was, had superimposed the names of the brightest stars over my vision. Betelgeuse and Bellatrix, Alnitak and Alnilam and Mintaka, Rigel, Saiph, and Na’ir al Saif, all interspersed with a handful of other stars of greatly diminished luminosity.
You know, said Paige, together these stars create the constellation known in antiquity as Orion. Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka create Orion’s Belt. Mintaka in particular was useful to early Earth cultures as its nightly rise and fall closely aligned with true east and west, respectively.
I blinked and continued to stare into the abyss.
Paige took that as an invitation. Sorry. A constellation is a group of stars that ancient cultures—
I know what a constellation is.
Well, forgive me for assuming you didn’t, she said. They are, after all, a purely terrestrial phenomena.
That much was true. Given cultures on planets other than Earth had developed in the post-computational age, they’d never developed their own constellations. Instead, we were all stuck with the original ones from antiquity, no matter how goofy they looked from our various vantage points in the far reaches of the galaxy.
Actually, said Paige, the Orion constellation looks much the same here as it does on Earth. Of all the stars in the grouping, Bellatrix is the closest, and even that one is well over two hundred light years away from both Sol and Tau Ceti.
I blinked. You’re telling me ancient humans actually thought that group of stars resembled a bear? They had more active imaginations than I thought.
You’re thinking of Ursa Major, said Paige. Orion is supposed to be a man. I mean, really? Why would a bear wear a belt?
I thought it was a metaphor, I said. Either way, I think I’ve made my case.
I heard the gentle clap of feet and turned to find Carl approaching. “Hey, Rich. Waiting to watch the shift?”
“The what now?” I said.
“The shift into warp,” said Carl. “I assumed that was why you were at the window.”
I vaguely recalled Captain Rhees coming over the intercom ten minutes ago notifying us we’d be transitioning soon. Not that it would involve much from my point of view. The stars would stretch and disappear behind the warp bubble, and while we’d briefly lose the benefits of the ship’s pseudogravity, it would come back as soon as the Alcubierre drive’s energy draw normalized.
“No,” I told Carl. “I wasn’t waiting for anything in particular. Just hanging out, I guess.”
Carl’s brows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I said. “I’ve made warp jumps before. I’m not irrationally afraid of the technology.”
“Then why the long face?” Carl stroked an invisible beard, giving life to his metaphor.
I could lie to him and claim nothing was on my mind, but he was my best friend. Besides, if I wasn’t fully truthful Paige was liable to rat me out. “I guess I’m wondering if I m
ade the right choice.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” said Carl. “You’ve made so many poor ones over the years.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said. “I’m talking about forcing myself—ourselves—aboard this vessel and hoping for the best. Think about it. We’re facing two possible outcomes. The first is I was wrong, either in my general conclusion about how the pirates performed their raids or in my assumption they’d hit the Agapetes again so soon after their most recent assault.”
That, for the moment, appeared to be the most likely outcome. Tarja had ingratiated herself with the ship’s crew and looked through the external surveillance footage and the energy readings from the resonant cavity thrusters. Not only had she failed to notice any pirate ships approaching our vessel, either before or after exiting the asteroid belt, but she hadn’t noticed any changes in thrust requirements, which should change if we’d acquired a space leech.
“And if you are wrong?” said Carl. “What’s the worst that happens? We waste a couple weeks in transit and we’re no closer to solving the case?”
“Yes,” I said, “and while I’m sure Tarja will happily fly around at warp speed collecting her daily stipend, I hold myself to a higher standard. But that isn’t what I’m most concerned about. I’m more concerned about being right.”
It’s called impostor syndrome, said Paige. Get over it.
Carl followed Paige’s communication, but he at least took my unease seriously. “You’re questioning the wisdom of inviting an attack by pirates.”
“I know we’ve talked about this,” I said. “There are reasons not to be worried. The crew is better armed than last time and prepared for an attack. The ship’s computers have been scanned for malignant software that could’ve given the pirates an in. And we have more people on our side this time, namely you, me, and Tarja. Ducic may be useless in a fight, but I’ve seen you scramble to protect me, and I’ve watched Tarja in action. No offense to you, but she’s the one who really impressed.”
“No offense taken,” said Carl. “So what are you worried about? I mean, I’m worried, but that’s a near constant state of affairs for me. I get on edge when you eat a meal too high in salt and cholesterol.”
I shook my head. “I wonder if we’ve underestimated the pirates. Placed too much emphasis on their apparent non-violent nature and refusal to use lethal weaponry. What if that turns out to be a bad call? Or what if they’re more adaptable than we’ve given them credit for? I’ve watched the holovids of the attacks, and each one played out in a predictable manner, which essentially means we don’t know how they’ll react under pressure. And we keep wondering about the pirates’ level of tech. What if they’re holding something in reserve? Something dangerous?”
Captain Rhees’ voice come on over the ship’s speakers. “T-minus one minute until warp entry. Prepare for momentary grav loss.”
“Regardless of the reasons for your hesitation, it’s too late to turn back now,” said Carl. “But I wouldn’t worry excessively. The crew’s prepared. You’ve been working on your marksmanship. Ducic found a panic room to seal himself in should the pirates break through. And, of course, I’ll be here to protect you.”
I smiled. “I know you will. I’m glad to have you at my side. Wouldn’t be an adventure if we weren’t doing it together, would it?”
Carl nodded and returned the smile.
I turned my gaze back to the window as Captain Rhees counted down from ten over the intercom. At five, the pseudogravity cut out and my feet floated off the floor, and at one I felt a strange shift. The light of the stars outside the window stretched into lines before compressing down into nothing and disappearing behind a sheet of blackness. It wasn’t more than a few seconds before the gravity kicked back in and settled me back down on the floor.
I kept my eyes trained out the now dark window. “You know what the worst part about thinking I’m right is?”
“What’s that?” said Carl.
“Envisioning the pirate vessel, packed to the gills with our enemies, perched against the exterior of our ship.” I tapped the bulwark with a finger. “All that separates us is a couple of metal hulls. Now we’re stuck together for a full week, for better or worse, win or lose.”
Carl rubbed his chin. “Now that you mention it, we didn’t consider what we’d do with the captured pirates if we won, or what any pirates who escape our capture might do in the same situation.”
I snorted. “And on that uplifting note, I’m going to find Ducic. Hopefully he and the engineers can provide encouraging information about the Alcubierre drive’s energy draw—or terrifying information, depending on how you look at it.”
26
I stared at the back of Tarja’s bunk, because of course she’d claimed the top one. It was as smooth, white, and boring as it had been two seconds ago.
I drummed my fingers on my chest. Then I tried to drum up some anger about the bunk situation, but I’d run out of that a couple days ago, if ever I’d had any. After a careful perusal of my options, I settled for sighing and feeling sorry for myself.
Well this is fun, said Paige.
I didn’t invite you to be a part of this, I said. You don’t have to sit around while I sulk—and yes, I’m aware that’s what I’m doing.
Uh…I’m kind of stuck in your head, said Paige, so I do have to sit around and be a part of whatever it is you wish to subject us to. But you don’t have to be morose. There’s plenty of interactive Brain experiences we could dive into. I don’t have quite the selection I normally do given my current servenet status, but I’ve got a nice virtual tour through the Cetib lava tubes we could take part in. Seeing as you’ve been complaining about the food non-stop, I could fire up one of the gourmet Gloatsperiences™ I have on file. Or if you’re feeling frisky, I always have a racy simulation or two on hand. How about that one where the temperature and humidity regulators break aboard the Martian swimsuit models’ space yacht and things get steamy?
You do realize I have to share this room with Tarja and Ducic, right? I said.
You’re right, said Paige. That could get awkward. Best not let either of them see that, unless you have unrealized feelings for either you’ve neglected to share.
I ignored that last part. What am I going to do, Paige?
Hopefully lay off me for a moment or two, she said.
What? Why?
Because I pinged Carl and he should be here any minute, she said. I’m tired of listening to your moping and he’s more compassionate than I am.
On cue, the door to my quarters opened and Carl walked in. He leaned over, poked his head into my bunk, and frowned. “Yeah, I got the distress call. What is it now?”
I sat up and swung my feet over the side. “I was wrong, you know. The other day? When I was complaining about what would be worse, being right or wrong about the pirates? Well, being wrong is worse. I feel so foolish.”
It had been three days as measured by the ship’s internal chronometers since we’d entered warp, and during that time absolutely nothing had happened. No pirate attacks. No bumps or thumps in the still of the night. Not even so much as a dirty look on the part of Tarja. She’d been too busy familiarizing herself with the surroundings, claiming she’d need every advantage she could get in the event we did get attacked. Even Ducic had been hard to find, though he’d provided me with the ship’s warp drive energy readings. They’d shown similar results as we’d seen previously, namely slightly higher than expected energy draws but nothing out of the ordinary. I’d held out hope they meant I’d been right about the pirates’ piggybacking efforts, but as the hours stretched into days, those hopes had faded.
Carl sighed. “I see why Paige called for reinforcements. There’s no point in beating yourself up over this. If you’re right, you’re right, and if you’re wrong, you’re wrong. A great deal of this profession is trial and error. It’s not as if you’re alone. All of InterSTELLA has been
after these pirates, and they still haven’t found hide nor hair of them.”
“Yes, but I’m not a vast, intergalactic organization,” I said. “I’m independent and versatile and edgy. I can pivot faster and make decisions quicker than they can.”
Carl rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. Look, I don’t even understand why you’re upset. You don’t know for a fact your assumptions about the pirates were wrong. The attacks on the other ships occurred anywhere from a few hours to four days into their warp bursts.”
I blinked. “They did?”
“Yes,” said Carl. “Didn’t you read the full reports?”
“I, uh…watched the holovids.”
“Come on, Rich,” said Carl. “Get it together. And I mean that in more ways than one. You can’t sit around in your room and mope all day.”
“I get that,” I said, “but I’m not built like you. I can’t assign those thoughts to random subroutines in my Brain. I need to actively get my mind off it, and the problem with that is there’s nothing to do on this blasted ship. Trust me, I’ve tried. Everyone’s busy, and there are only so many practice shots I can fire off, especially when it means suiting up and heading into the cargo bay every time.”
According to Urrupain, Jones, and everyone else I’d bothered to ask, the cargo bay was the only place I could practice my shooting. The bright side was that even though it was tightly packed, the area was huge. I could place the targets fifty or a hundred meters away, and it wasn’t under pseudogravity so it provided me with more of a challenge. I’d also gotten really good at performing space suit quick changes, for whatever that was worth.
Carl frowned. “Sure, don’t ask me to hang out. Not like I mind.”
“Oh, you know I didn’t mean it that way,” I said. “I spend all day, every day with you. And besides—”
The ship groaned and a jostle threatened to knock me off my bunk. The lights above flickered three or four times before returning to full strength.
