by Kathryn Hoff
Kojo’s eyebrows jumped. “That was fast.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said. “Mya’s been interested in him from the beginning, maybe just because he’s different, but Lyden disapproved. Now she’s free to do what she wants.”
“Exactly. No more need to meet in the salon at midnight.” Rachel gave Tinker’s ears a final scratch, saying, “Good kitty.”
Meow, meow.
After Rachel left, Kojo lifted his eyebrows at me.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “I don’t know anything about cats.”
“Not Tinker, idiot. Danto.”
I shrugged. “I can’t read Danto at all. He certainly doesn’t confide in me. Mya’s welcome to him, I’ll stick to kitties.”
“Good. And, uh…put Tinker somewhere, will you? She’s driving me crazy.”
Sleep was hard to come by, only in part because of Tinker yowling in the small stores hold under my cabin. My dreams were filled with the constant urging—badgering—to get to Nakana. A place of peace, joy and beauty. Warm, humid air, and hairy beasts munching the meadows. I was sick of the place and I’d never even been there.
I liked cities, I told myself. Small ports with lots of cargo for an independent hauler. Kriti would be nice. Rich ale and lots of interesting people, if you’re not picky about legalities. No doubt Hiram would find a dozen old friends and I would hear a few stories about Papa. I fell asleep thinking of Papa, but woke in a damp sweat, with the smell of grass and wet fur lingering from my dreams.
Grimbold squirmed in the chair next to the isolation unit, where Mya had sat two days before. He eyed the isolation box. Within it, the bloodstone rested like a coiled cobra.
“Do I have a choice about this?” Grim asked, stroking his mustache.
Rachel smiled. “Your cooperation is much appreciated and will be duly noted in any future criminal proceedings.”
“Not funny.”
“Insert your arm into the isolation unit. You’re not squeamish about a little blood, are you? After your distinguished military career?”
He gave her a sidelong look. “You know about that, eh?”
Grim stuck his arm into the isolation chamber port. Rachel sealed the opening tightly around his arm. Within the chamber, the relic’s deep colors seemed to pulse with anticipation.
“Wow. It really is something, isn’t it?” Grim gazed at the relic.
Rachel dictated her actions as the readings adjusted to Grim’s presence. “Place your hand on the relic, please.” More readings. Finally, Rachel used the manipulators to make an incision. Blood dripped into the relic’s channels and was quickly absorbed. Rachel waited, staring at the instruments.
Grim frowned. “Is that it? Isn’t it supposed to make me feel high or something?”
“Apparently not.” Rachel kept her attention on the instruments. “Just stay still, please.”
She made him stay for nearly an hour before releasing him with thanks.
“Those gorillas are crazy,” he mumbled. “Map, my ass. It’s just a burzing rock.”
I slammed the door behind him.
Rachel asked, “How was this time different?”
“The relic was quiet,” I said. “This time it wasn’t hungry. There was a little pause when it tasted the blood, but then it went back to the usual longing for home. Like it didn’t care about Grimbold’s blood.”
Rachel nodded. “It already has what it wants.”
Over a dinner of Selkid rations—not bad if you added enough piri piri sauce—Rachel discussed her findings.
“There definitely is a living being within the relic. It breathes in oxygen and releases carbon dioxide, as we do, but in minute amounts. It seems to derive nutrition from blood—after giving it blood today, there was an increased rate of respiration, indicating a digestion process. That process must be very efficient—there was very little waste produced.”
“Fine,” Grim said. “It breathes and eats and craps. Big deal.”
Rachel went on. “More interesting is the difference in neural activity. Mya’s blood was followed by increased telepathic activity in her, and only in her. Grim’s blood did not elicit any increase in neural activity in anyone.”
“Suriel only reveals the truth to the worthy,” Mya said.
“Thanks very much, I’m sure,” Grim muttered.
“The point,” Rachel said, “is that the relic generates several distinct types of expressive telepathic communications, and the relic’s response seems to discriminate between individuals based on their blood.”
“Maybe it just wasn’t hungry,” Kojo offered. “Maybe it only needs one dose.”
“Perhaps,” Rachel said, “but remember that it interacted with both Deprata and Balan. I suspect the relic uses the blood both for nutrition and to test blood factors. If the blood has whatever factor it’s looking for, the relic directs a specific telepathic message directed only to the donor, probably through the donor’s physical contact with the relic. That specific message is the direction to the planet we have been calling Nakana, coupled with an intense desire to go there, as well as the psychological reward of stimulation of pleasure centers in the brain. A very potent mix.”
Jamila dabbed her napkin to her lips. “Fascinating. I knew there would be a logical explanation, once Terran science could examine the artifact.”
Mya looked toward the ceiling. “Science tells us only the irrelevant mechanics. The truth is spiritual.”
“One final thing.” Rachel swept the group with a serious gaze. “Whether because of the passage of time or the proximity to Nakana, in the past few days there’s been a measurable increase in the strength of the telepathic activity. Mya, Danto, and Patch”—she looked at each of us—“you should know that you may be at risk. The telepathic activity may become very strong. Perhaps even hard to resist.”
The Terrans, even Kojo, looked at us with concern.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“That is nonsense,” Danto said. “I am completely in control.”
Mya said stirred restlessly. “As soon as we reach Nakana, everything will be fine. We are getting close.”
CHAPTER 26
Lightning and thunder
We gathered in the salon, glued to the viewscreens. For the first time in days, there was something to see. Amid the inky blackness, the deep gray smudge might have been just a trick on eyes desperate for some relief from the dark. But according to the scanner, the gray smudge was a debris cloud, the remains of some cosmic explosion that drove ether, energy, and matter from the center to form a thin-skinned bubble. And within the bubble was a double-star system with at least five planets.
“I’ll be burzed,” Kojo said. “We found it.”
“I don’t believe it!” Jamila peered into the screens, her eyes alight.
It was the middle of the fourth day traveling the Gloom, just as Mya had predicted. She had spent that last day pacing nonstop, rubbing her hands and talking to herself—or maybe to the relic, it was hard to tell. Now she lounged, eyes closed and a smug smile on her face. “Nakana. We have found it.”
Home!
I felt drawn to the viewscreen as well, eager to see what the debris cloud hid. Just rocks and ruins? Or a lush, grassy planet of busy cities and unimaginable technology? Somehow I felt sure that life and intelligence awaited us.
“The cloud may be the result of a nova,” Danto said, “caused by an exchange of matter between the suns. Or perhaps a weapon. But once we pass through the outer layer of dust and debris, there should be little obstruction.”
The viewscreen didn’t change, but the scanner flashed, warning of energy discharges and turbulence. A second later, a low frequency wave shook Sparrow.
Rachel’s gaze was fixed on the scanner, her brows drawn together. “Kojo, those energy surges…”
Kojo peered at the scanner. “Those discharges are generated by the cloud, like a wall of lightning and thunder and hail the size of mountains. The cloud is still expanding, so we
’d have to fight the outward thrust. It will be like pushing through a thicket.”
He looked around the gathered company. “If we try to penetrate the cloud, it will be a terrible strain on the ship and the crew. We could be risking the ship. We’ve found the system. Maybe that’s enough for this expedition.”
Kojo looked at me, one eyebrow lifted, and touched the back of his hand.
He was giving us a chance to back out of the mission and proceed to Kriti. I’d checked the scanner myself—Kojo was exaggerating the risk. It would be a rough ride, but Sparrow could handle the strain.
I touched my ear. “I think we can do it.”
Kojo blinked. He must have expected me to take the quick way out. But we’d come so far—I was sure we could make it all the way. And maybe we would find a planet full of advanced tech. The ship and crew who discovered that would never have to scrape the bottom of the barrel for jobs nobody else wanted.
Kojo grinned. “All right, then. Everybody get some rest. It will be like trying to take a boat up a set of rapids—once we begin, we can’t stop until we’re on the other side.”
In the cargo hold, Tinker wound around my legs as I helped Rachel secure her equipment for a rough passage into the cloud. I picked up the cat and cuddled her for a moment, glad to have her back to normal.
While Rachel was absorbed with her equipment, I strolled over to the cache bulkhead. A glance showed the screwheads still covered with smears of lube, no sign of disturbance. Relieved, I returned to Rachel’s side.
Rachel checked her monitors, then drew me close. “I’m concerned about Danto,” she said quietly. “His neural activity has increased. He’s been monitoring all of us through the com nodes whenever he can.”
I shrugged. “He’s in command now. Monitoring operations is normal.”
“I want you and Kojo to be armed at all times.”
That seemed an overreaction, but if the Settlement Authority commander wanted to mutiny against the Patrol sergeant who’d taken command of my ship, I was happy to go along.
Rachel checked her monitors. Danto was with Mya in the salon, and Kojo was in the engine room. She pointed to the magazine and said out loud, “Thank you, Patch. Just finish that one and you can go.”
I withdrew two stun pistols and placed them under my jacket with a smile. “Call if you need more help, Rachel.”
In the engine room, Kojo manned the engines while Archer slept. “They’re running well,” Kojo said. “Straight up, the upgrades are sweet. Everything copacetic with Rachel?”
“She has some concerns about going into the cloud.” I nodded toward the com node as I handed him one of the pistols.
“I see.” He tucked the pistol into his belt and drew his jacket over it. “Anything specific?”
“Just general nervousness. You should probably stay close to the wheelhouse, in case Hiram needs a break.”
Kojo smiled wolfishly. “That’s just what I was planning to do.”
A few hours later, Sparrow faced the energy wall like a minnow facing a tsunami. It was beautiful—and terrifying. The haze swirled in deepest reds and dark oranges, sparking with energy charges that arced across vast distances.
I had doubled the lashings on Rachel’s equipment and the stores in the cargo hold and padded the food and dishes in the galley before locking everything down.
Rachel passed out anti-nausea patches, and tranqs for those who weren’t operating the ship. Even Tinker got a tiny dose of tranquilizer. She mewed unhappily as I added extra padding to her snug retreat.
Rachel and Mya opted to watch from the salon. Jamila said she couldn’t bear to watch and went to her cabin. Grim said he could die in bed more comfortably than in the salon.
Kojo came on the com. “Time to man your posts.”
Kojo and Hiram would both be needed in the wheelhouse. Danto went to man the guns, to fire concussives if we needed to blast debris out of our path.
I went to help Archer. We’d need power mods, lots of them.
“This is going to be a rough ride,” I warned him. He bounced and vibrated for a moment then, without warning, he gathered me into a big hug.
“Look,” he said, “whatever happens, I’m glad we’re married. I’m going to look after you.” He kissed me, right on the lips.
“You’re daft,” I said. “And I can take care of myself.” But I held onto him a little longer than strictly necessary. It had been a very nice kiss, and his arms around me were warm and comfortable, his vibration no more than a kitten’s purr.
Hiram’s voice came over the com. “Fire up those engines, lad. Time to earn your keep.”
Sparrow started delicately, approaching the energy wall slowly. At Kojo’s command, we ramped up power and began to push against the wall.
“Build up power slowly,” Kojo ordered. “We don’t want to shoot through and be out of control on the other side of the energy field.” Archer and I brought more and more power to bear.
Kojo called, “Danto? How about a little help?”
A concussive charge shot from our bow and detonated against the wall. The disruption was enough to pierce the first layer.
Sparrow leaped forward and began to penetrate the cloud.
Over the next few hours, we pushed into the wall of energy. Like a man trying to run up an icy hill, Sparrow thrust forward, slipped back, and thrust forward again, as the straining engines forced the ship deeper into the cloud. With every bit of headway, we triggered plasma bursts and energy pulses that rattled and shook the ship like a terrier shaking a rat. Even with the nausea medication, Archer and the passengers emptied their stomachs in the first two minutes, and even I was sick. The pressure waves made my head ache terribly.
I was glad Lyden, frail as she was, had been spared this.
Shearing forces made Sparrowhawk shimmy sideways again, throwing me off my feet as I exchanged a spent power mod for a fresh one.
Kojo called back, “More power!”
Archer, face sweaty and breathing heavily, shook his head and called into the com, “Kojo, we’re at max. We can’t keep this up. We need the escape thrusters!”
“Do it!” Kojo called. “Quarter bore, two seconds. Punch it!”
Archer whispered, “Yes.” As soon as I strapped in, he hit the thrusters.
Suddenly we were rushing through violent waves of energy, like a sailboat heading into a monsoon. Energy pulses enveloped Sparrow as our passage disrupted charged pockets of ions. The thrusters shoved the ship forward, deeper and deeper, as Hiram and Kojo used the maneuvering rockets to keep the ship heading into the energy waves. Any attempt to turn would be suicidal.
Each time a power mod reached the point of exhaustion, I unstrapped long enough to shove another into its place. After the fourth, Archer eyed our dwindling supply of mods, looking ill. He whispered under his breath, “This is not good.”
I glanced at the viewscreen. It was darker ahead, the haze of dust thinning. Certainly, there were fewer flashes of igniting plasma. Were we nearing the end of the energy wall?
“Reverse!” Kojo yelled. “Slow! Slow! Danto, guns!”
We shunted power away from the rear propulsion toward the retro rockets. Sparrow slewed sickeningly.
Then the waves were gone.
We shot into a field of debris. Huge boulders loomed up, much too fast.
Danto fired blasts that arced before us, thrusting rocks out of our way. We decelerated further, trying to match the orbit of the debris.
“Good!” Kojo said. “Steady on engines! Let Hiram take it.”
Sparrowhawk danced and pirouetted among stones the size of huts, rocks the size of mountains. Hiram kept us moving just a little faster than the debris around us, plying the maneuvering rockets to dodge obstructions as beautifully as a floating leaf swirls past rocks. Each time a congregation of rubble approached, Danto would fire a concussive to push it aside. It was lovely.
Gradually, the debris thinned.
We were inside the bubble. At the
distant center, huge twin suns revolved around one another in tight formation, energy streaming between them. And somewhere below us, closer to the center, was Nakana.
“There’s nothing here,” Kojo said.
We were all at breakfast the next day, in high orbit around the fifth planet, the one Mya claimed was Nakana.
“It’s exactly as Mya said it would be—habitable conditions, three moons. We’ve scanned everything around, but there’s nothing here. No ships, no communications, no energy readings. Nothing. It gives me the creeps.”
“There will be signs,” Mya said, drowsily stirring her porridge. Rachel had given her a mild tranq. “The Sages will have left signs for us.”
I was drowsy myself—the night had brought me little rest. My dreams had been filled with huge, shaggy beasts that grazed on lush grasses. I’d rested my hand against the flank of one and felt its slow pulse. The warmth of its body had enveloped me. I’d breathed in the scent of grass and fur and dung. I’d known it was a dream, but I’d wanted it to be real, to be there touching the warm body, so badly that I’d ached with longing.
Home. Take me home.
“The society that once lived here may have left or died out,” Jamila said. “It happens. People become dissatisfied and move on, or suffer a catastrophic war or natural disaster. We’ll know more when we send a probe to look under the clouds.”
“Or maybe this is the wrong place and Nakana is somewhere else,” Grim grumped. “Or maybe Nakana’s just a myth, nowhere at all.”
“There will be traces,” Jamila said. “Cities, roads. We’ll see them.”
“Certainly, from here in orbit, Nakana looks habitable,” Rachel agreed, munching some toast. “The scanners indicate that the lower atmosphere is rich in nitrogen and has enough oxygen to be breathable. The cloud cover is composed largely of water vapor. There are large seas encircling major land masses and abundant vegetation.”
Mya said, “As soon as we land, we will be able to see for ourselves.”
Kojo and I froze. “Land?” I said. “On an unexplored planet?”
