Cryptikon Far Freedom Part 2

by Warren Merkey

occurred to him the android could be informative. "Why do you stand guard?" Etrhnk asked. "If I can find you, The Lady can."

  Fred flexed his fingers on the grip of his hand weapon, as if uncomfortable with its fit. He looked into Etrhnk's eyes. "Perhaps she has never lost us," Fred replied. "Why doesn't she attack? I stand guard because I will not sleep."

  "Fred never sleeps," Pan said, as he arrived through the trees. "If he sleeps, he dreams. The dreams disturb him."

  "Your journey is slow," Etrhnk commented, "but it seems to have a direction. North."

  "We receive clues of dubious value, but they are consistent."

  "She wishes to have visitors? Otherwise, you should be dead."

  "Would you object if I said I intend to kill her?"

  Etrhnk could have been amused. Did Pan have any notion of the scope of The Lady's power? Did he realize she could not be understood, could not be predicted? "I commend you for your ambition but see no chance of success."

  "She requested that I kill her," Pan said.

  "It doesn't matter. You can't trust her."

  "She seemed pleasant to me but I understand she is evil. If my life ends on this scenic journey in the company of my old friend Fred, then it's a life well ended."

  "I would ask to join you," Etrhnk said, "but they will have other plans for me."

  "Why did you let Zakiya live?" Pan asked. "I suspect you will pay a high price for that."

  Etrhnk waited several moments to reply. He didn't think logical thoughts during this delay. He didn't measure pressure differences between urges. Perhaps he felt emotions and perhaps not. If it was emotional to want knowledge, then that caused him to respond the way he did. "I don't know why I let her live. She has some magical power over me. I tell myself that it doesn't matter that I let her live because I would be dead soon in any case. Perhaps for the same foolish reason I let myself do terrible harm to another person, as though ethics have no meaning in the face of death. I've changed. The evil I've done weighs heavily on my every thought. If there is no hell after I die, there is this agony before I die. I confess that I came here either to take you with me into the dark, or to beg for any scrap of knowledge that would help explain my mysteries and my fate. I deserve nothing from you. I apologize for the drama my words imply. I apologize for forcing myself into your company and increasing your risk."

  Pan stared at him for a long time. Even the android seemed very thoughtful gazing at him. It made Etrhnk uncomfortable. He turned away, not understanding anything, even himself.

  "Wait," Pan said.

  Etrhnk turned around slowly. The android raised his weapon to point it at Etrhnk's head, his aim smoothly tracking his slightest motion.

  "I warn you," Etrhnk said, "that my actions are not well controlled at this point in my life. Your friend is wise to keep me in his sights."

  "Give me your hand," Pan ordered.

  The coercion bothered Etrhnk. It was disturbing him again, how his urges could swing so far from positive to negative. Perhaps he would never be able to feel even the possibility of friendship with this man, but he had felt comfortable in his presence, and now that was taken away. He couldn't decide what to do.

  "There is no threat," Pan said. "Not from me. Fred does what he feels necessary. I may disagree with him but I am not his master."

  Pan held out his hand for Etrhnk to take. Etrhnk found no arguments in either direction and finally took Pan's hand. He tightened his grip to equalize the force. He waited. After a moment of apparent inner disturbance, Pan released his hand. Emotion clouded his dark face.

  "Is it him?" the android asked.

  "Yes," Pan answered sadly. "Petros."

  "I was told that name," Etrhnk said, feeling something, and knowing he was supposed to feel something. He suspected that something would be both wonderful and terrible.

  "I'll explain what I can," Pan said.

  2-31 One Happy Thought

  Aylis paced. In the small bridge of the admiral's yacht, this activity could not go uncontested.

  "You can get out and walk," Mama said.

  "Probably get there faster," Aylis rejoined.

  Jamie didn't dare say anything. That her mother and Aylis were able to carry on, that was a miracle, and that was enough. She was afraid she would say the wrong thing and lose one or both of them to an episode of despair. She was with them, not because they invited her, but because she felt they were too fragile or too distracted and might need her help. They seemed to ignore her. She didn't know if that meant they blamed her for the tragedy, but she would accept the blame. She couldn't believe Sammy was gone. She couldn't believe Freddy was gone. She hadn't wept again today, not yet, but she could feel it coming. Tears kept pushing into the corners of her eyes.

  "I just want to be finished with it!" Aylis declared. "Get them and go!"

  "Jamie, you're very quiet," Mama observed, ignoring Aylis's impatience.

  Jamie shook her head, looked away, and said nothing. She was relieved Mama spoke to her. The caring tone of her voice, even in this time of her deep sorrow, seemed to complete and to strengthen the way she felt about her mother.

  "Tell me one happy thought," Mama asked. "I need a happy thought."

  "I want to have a baby." It just erupted from somewhere deep inside her, surprising her. In this time of restricted procreation it was almost every woman's dream to have a baby, and she had always known she was no exception. It was something else Direk had denied her: motherhood. She wept then, feeling sorry for everything.

  Mama held her hand until she stopped crying. "That was a very good happy thought," she said.

  That was the only thing that helped Jamie: knowing Mama still loved her. The guilt for forcing the jumpship battle was killing her. The loss of Sammy was unbearable! The child had the magic ability to make everybody his friend, to make everybody care about him, and now he was gone forever.

  The admiral's yacht maneuvered slowly through the thickening debris, mostly composed of ice fragments, where the Oort clouds of three close stars mingled. The yacht bumped its way through a small condensation of dark ice, its starlight drive field offering slight protection to its crew from inertial disturbance. The three women were strapped into their seats bracing themselves to anticipate the next bump.

  "There it is," Mama said with relief.

  Jamie didn't see it at first in the window display as the yacht maneuvered into close proximity, then she picked out an unnatural curve rising from the flank of a floating mountain of ice. She recognized it as the rotating section of the lost ship - which had not rotated for a long time.

  "Finally!" Aylis declared.

  "How did they ever expect to get out?" Jamie said. "Buried, with the ice cloud shifting around them. They could have been smashed at any time. It's almost as if they didn't-." Jamie stopped before finishing the terrible supposition. She noted the grim expressions that briefly registered on the faces of Mama and Aylis as each glanced at her. These two women were every bit as tough as Marines. But she wasn't. She was a different person now, she was shaken, but she had to stay functional.

  "They couldn't have expected us to find them," Mama said, agreeing with Jamie. "They had given up. This was their grave."

  The yacht was set to hold its position next to the old ship. The women winked to the chamber where stasis coffins held three of the men. Jamie walked in magnetic shoes and guided her floating mother and Aylis in zero gravity. They installed a target at which the Freedom could aim its transmat or its gate. Engineers and medics from the ship would determine how to move the stasis coffins and/or their contents to the hospital. Jamie guided Aylis and Mama into Patrick Jenkins' stateroom.

  The aged man was awake. "Go away, you damned ghosts! Quit haunting me!"

  "He seems stronger," Mama commented.

  "Shut up, Patrick," Aylis ordered. "We're taking you with us."

  "The hell, you say! You're not real, milady. See?"

  "You grab my breast again," Aylis warned, without sounding
greatly offended, "and I'll slap you into next week!" Jamie braced Aylis as she pushed the man's hand away.

  They picked Patrick Jenkins up from his bed. They gathered his tubes and medical contrivances. Once the sick old man was away from his bed, he could be floated in the microgravity. They moved him down the passageway.

  "Wait!" Dr. Jenkins exclaimed. "I need my toothbrush!"

  "Why?" Mama asked. "Your breath smells like you haven't used it for fifty years."

  "Oh! That's right! I use scotch for oral hygiene! Got any?"

  "I knew I shouldn't have come back here by cryptikon and adjusted his medication," Aylis said. "You're a little too excited, Pat. Please, calm down!"

  They winked him into the admiral's yacht, catching him in their arms as the light artificial gravity of the yacht took hold of them.

  "Hey, this is different!" Jenkins declared, looking around.

  "Keep your hands to yourself, Patrick," Mama said, lifting one of his hands away from her chest.

  "Are those my hands? I can't be responsible! They must have a sex life of their own. Not me. My testes fell off about nine hundred years ago."

  "You must have grafted one to each hand," Aylis commented. "I suppose you've fondled a long parade of barbarian females?"

  "Join the parade!"

  "I know where there's a cold shower," Mama said.

  "And who is this lovely young lady?" he said, noticing Jamie for the first time.

  "My daughter," Mama answered reprovingly but with a smile.

  "Been there, done that! Ready to do it again! What's your name, Beautiful?"

  "Jamie," Jamie