Stealing Endeavour: Book 1 of the Forever Endeavour, Amen Trilogy

by Martin Tays

  “Yeah? Well, I think it’d suck.”

  Rafe nodded. “Honestly, yeah, I probably would, too. But I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And meanwhile, we can relax in the knowledge that humankind is being represented by a guy who once starred in an all-nude rock and roll revival of ‘The Pirates of Penzance’.”

  “Ouch.” Sam grimaced. “That’s an image that’ll linger.”

  “Hey, he made a pretty good Pirate King… but it was a couple of years before I could hear When A Foeman Bares His Steel without my eyes watering a little, I tell you that.” She thought about it for a moment, then winced. He grinned in reply and gestured toward the portal leading toward the hab ring. “Now, shall we go be grown ups?”

  Sam shook her head. “It’s what I live for.” She smiled, and together they pushed off toward the meeting.

  “Of all the cruel things inflicted on mankind by an uncaring universe, I believe that this was the worst.

  We’d watched the stars for millennia. Listened to their voices, prayed to them and ― in the fullness of time ― visited them. And found them empty.

  We were alone.”

  Dee Ann Smyth, from “The Lonely Stars”

  “So I says to him, I says ‘You ain’t got no reason to do this’.

  And he says to me, he says ‘Yeah? They ain’t no one out there. We’re alone, and we’re gonna live forever, got it? No God, no end, no judgment, no anything. They ain’t no reason for nothin’.

  And then he started shooting. He just... started shooting.”

  Unnamed eyewitness, from an article in the LA Times

  Chapter 24

  “We are made to persist. That’s how we find out who we are.”

  Tobias Wolff

  “Bridge to maneuvering. Done with engines.”

  “Understand done with engines.” The image of Leo, in engineering, appeared in front of the command chair. “Moses, aren’t we little far out?”

  “Depends.” Moses looked up at Leo in the vid window. “You’re the engineer. How allergic are you to orbital debris strikes?”

  “I’m not the engineer. I’m the assistant engineer. And lots. Please don’t poke holes in my ship.”

  “I’ll try my best. That’s why we’re orbiting so far out. Less debris. And yes, I know. Cath’s the engineer.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  “I won’t. How’s your new assistant working out?”

  Leo smiled. “Tan? Like a dream. Do you realize how handy it is to have an engineer with four arms?”

  T’Han-mri stuck her furry head into the frame from above, her muzzle wrinkling with amusement. “I believe friend L’Heo is jealousy of my engineer prowess. He finds that it is farb!”

  “Hey! You can’t say that.” Moses looked over to Ami. “Can she say that?”

  Ami considered the alien in the vid window, then shrugged. “Yeah. Look’s like she can.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  She reached out and patted Moses on the arm. “It’s an unfair universe, dear.”

  “Yeah, yeah. This is going into my diary, you know.”

  “Be sure to use lavender ink. It’s much more angsty.”

  “Is that a word?”

  “Lavender? I’ve wondered.”

  “I get no respect, around here.” Moses pushed up from the command chair and looked around. “Okay, people. We’re in a secure orbit. We’ll need a hotel watch kept on the bridge, but other than that we’re on standby. You did good, folks. You all did good.” Cheers greeted his announcement.

  “Leo?” Moses looked back to the vid window. “Spin up the hab module, then slave control to the bridge. It’s time you took a break.”

  “I know Sher’ll be happy to hear that.” Ami put in.

  Leo grinned in return from maneuvering. “Sher. Yeah. I remember her. Faintly. Thanks, boss.”

  “I’m telling her you said that.”

  “Yeah, sis? You know what she’ll say in response?”

  “No, what?”

  “Leo who?”

  “Good point.” Ami grinned. “Maybe you should go see her, after all.”

  “I thought so. Engineering out.” There was a faint shudder, barely felt, as the motors began spinning up the habitation ring.

  It had been a long journey in from the warp point. With its antimatter drive the Endeavour would have been able to make the trip in days, but the need to accompany the warship with its chemical drive had stretched the trip out to long weeks. The warship was now settling protectively into orbit, to Moses’ amusement, between the human ship and the planet.

  He stretched, a bit stiff from the hours in the command chair, and turned to Ami. “Okay. Let Doug know that the party’s on for first shift. I’m going down to medical.”

  Ami looked over, concern on her face. “How’s she doing?”

  Moses grimaced. “I don’t know. Not great, apparently. Clive called, says he needs to talk to me about something.”

  “Need some company?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. You need some sleep. It’s been a long, grueling flight in. Go crash.” He reached out and pulled Ami in for a quick hug. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  “Well… okay. Call if you need me.” Ami yawned, kissed him quickly, and darted out of the bridge. Moses watched her leave.

  “You still haven’t told her, have you?”

  Moses turned and looked at Mattie, who’d drifted up to float behind him. He shrugged. “She knows.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So she knows, okay? You need some sleep, yourself. Got a watch schedule posted?”

  “Yep. I’m slowly getting the hang of this.” She turned to glare at him. “Not that I’ve forgiven you for saddling me with the job, mind you.”

  “Of course not.” He pushed off toward the hatch, then turned back and grinned. “Pity you’re so good at it.”

  “You got that straight.” Mattie smiled, herself, then sobered. “Tell Cath we’re worried about her, alright?”

  “Yeah… yeah, I will.” They looked at each other for a moment, then Moses left the bridge.

  ☼

  The medical module was dark and quiet. Moses floated over to where Smith was working on a console, coming up behind him to whisper “What’s up, doc?”

  Smith started, a bit, then turned around to shush him. He pointed toward the hatch to the module, and Moses followed him out into the corridor.

  The doctor pulled the hatch shut carefully then turned toward Moses. “Was that a joke?”

  “No.” He paused, considering. “Well, now that you mention it, yes ― I just didn’t realize it at the time. What do you need?”

  Clive nodded toward the module hatch and spoke. “How long have you known her?”

  “Cath? A long time. A really long time. Why?”

  “She tried to kill herself.”

  “Oh, Christ.” Moses shut his eyes, then opened them and looked at the doctor. “She okay?”

  “Physically, now, yes.”

  “How…?”

  “She managed to get hold of a pcomp. Overrode the safety protocols and ordered her nannites to give her a massive sedative overdose. I entered just as she was flatlining.” He grimaced as he stared at the closed hatch. “I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but it was a close thing.”

  Moses scrubbed his face and swore. “Was she out of it at the time?”

  The doctor shook his head. “She was completely lucid, then and now. And she’s specifically told me that when she has the opportunity, she will do it again.”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Moses looked over at the doctor. “How’s Sandar taki
ng it?”

  Clive winced. “Ms. Spindowski has specifically requested that she receive no visits from Ms. Brillerman.” He turned to point at Moses. “Or from you, either. I have authorized her med system to provide Ms. Brillerman with a mild sedative, but she is still quite upset.”

  “Yeah. I bet.” Moses stared at the door for a long moment, fist unconsciously drumming against his thigh. Finally, he turned back toward the doctor. “Look, anyone else she ban?”

  “Anyone else she…” Smith looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “Oh. No. Just the two of you.”

  “The two people who know her best.”

  He nodded. “I noticed that. She’s afraid you’ll try to manipulate her.”

  “Confuse her with facts and stuff?”

  Smith smiled tightly. “Something like that, yes.”

  “Look. I’ve got an idea. She won’t listen to me, and she won’t listen to Sandar. Fine. I know just the person she needs to see.”

  “Captain, that woman is my patient.” The look on the doctor’s face was grim. “I can’t allow you to do anything to harm her.”

  “Doc… Clive… do you honestly think there’s much I could do that’d make this worse?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Probably not, no.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “I get final say on this scheme of yours.”

  “Fair enough.” Moses looked back toward the module door. “Look, doc…”

  Smith held his hand up. “Go. I believe I need to attend to my patient.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, doc.”

  The doctor just looked at him levelly, then nodded and entered the module.

  Moses stared at the closed door for a long moment, then turned and quickly flew off down the central corridor.

  ☼

  The lighting was subdued and the air chilly around the motionless form in the zero-g hammock. It reminded S’Nhu-gli uncomfortably of a morgue.

  He hung by the entrance to the medical module’s treatment room, staring at the cocooned form, for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

  “There is among my people a disease. It attacks one’s respiratory system and leads to death within a brief amount of time. In your reckoning, a period of weeks. There is no cure.”

  The form in the bed stiffened, briefly, when he began speaking but otherwise did not respond at all. He moved over beside the figure. Cath’s head was turned away.

  “My father contracted this sickness.” S’Nhu-gli continued. “I last saw him the day before he died. When I entered the room, he had his cloak spread across his lap. He was mending a tear in it.”

  Cath slowly turned her head toward the speaker.

  “I asked him why he would waste his time like this, knowing what would soon happen to him. Do you know what he said?”

  The woman in the hammock stared at the alien, not speaking. S’Nhu-gli stared back calmly. Finally, after a long silence, she asked “What?” Her voice was tired, flat and scratchy.

  “He replied that yesterday is yesterday, tomorrow is tomorrow and today is today.”

  Cath blinked. “He did.”

  “Yes. I had the phrase graven on his memorial. I hope one day that my children will place it on mine.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She turned away, again, studying the far wall of the small equipment filled room. Finally she turned back toward S’Nhu-gli. “Your father was a fool.”

  His muzzle involuntarily wrinkled in response. “In point of fact, yes he was. In many ways. He once took an entire year off work in order to learn to play a musical instrument we call a s’shii.At the end of the year he called his family together to play for them.”

  The engineer stared at him a long moment before responding. “And how was it?”

  “My mother later stated that he could have attained a better sound from the instrument by throwing it from a cliff.”

  Despite herself, Cath grinned a tiny bit.

  “My father did not care. He took joy from the attempt.”

  Cath shut her eyes and turned away, again, to look off into the darkness. Without turning, she asked “What do your people do with murderers?”

  “A reasonable question, under the circumstances.” He paused, formulating an answer. “Life is, to my people, a gift. And, as with any gift, it belongs once given to the receiver, and to none other.”

  “So you execute them.”

  S’Nhu-gli was startled. “No! No, of course not. If I destroyed your food, would you destroy mine in return or would you take it to replace your own?”

  Cath snorted. “After what you’ve told me about some of your food…”

  “You are a culinary barbarian. My point was…”

  “I know what your point was. But what was your point?”

  It was the alien’s turn to look off into the darkness. “When one of my kind kills another, his life must serve to replace the one he took.” He turned back to Cath. “It belongs to the ones he has wronged with his act. It is no more his than the food given by a thief to replace that which was stolen.”

  There was another long moment of silence. Finally, Cath shut her eyes. Tears gathered in the zero gravity, squeezed from the tight shut eyelids. S’Nhu-gli took a tissue from a nearby dispenser and delicately dabbed them away.

  “I’m a murderer.” The words were barely audible. She reached out blindly toward him and managed to grab a fistful of the fur on his side.

  S’Nhu-gli placed a forefoot softly, delicately, over the white knuckled hand as he gently replied. “Yes.”

  “Bless me, father.” Cath’s voice was a tortured whisper. “For I have sinned.”

  The priest reached out his other forefoot and placed it on the face of the agonized woman. “You seek absolution?”

  “I… I just want the pain to stop.”

  “And so you tried to end your own life.”

  “… yeah.”

  S’Nhu-gli withdrew his forefoot and leaned down to look into Cath’s eyes. He waited until he had her absolute attention before he spoke. “Understand… you may not do this again.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you do not have the luxury of making such a decision.”

  “Oh yeah?” Cath was angry, now. “And why not?”

  “Because your life belongs to me.”

  She stared at him angrily for a long moment, then a surprised look came over her face. “Oh.” She finally breathed.

  “Oh, indeed.”

  Cath released the death grip she had on his side and brought up both hands to scrub her face. She finally dragged them back across her iron gray hair, heaved a sigh, and turned toward S’Nhu-gli. “So. What would you have me do, then?”

  “You accept, then, that your life is mine?”

  She looked into his dark eyes and, after a brief hesitation, replied. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Then what I would have you do, child, is mend your cloak.”

  A genuine, if small, smile finally came across her face. “I’m going to have to put up with a lot of this Zen shit, aren’t I?”

  His muzzle wrinkled in return. “Yes, I suppose that you are.”

  “Swell.”

  “Yesterday is yesterday. Tomorrow is tomorrow.”

  “Today is today. I got it.”

  “Good. We are now in orbit around my planet. I would like for you to accompany me when we go down to the surface.”

  She winced. “I’m not ready for that.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Right.” She reached out and pressed the alert by the bed, the one to summon assistance. “You know?” She continued conversationally. “You�
��re a real bastard.”

  “You learn quickly. I’m pleased.”

  Smith entered the room. “Ms. Spindowski. How are you feeling? May I get you anything?”

  “I’m kinda… can you… you think you could get me a little something to eat?”

  The doctor looked over at S’Nhu-gli, eyebrows raised. He turned back toward Cath and replied. “Certainly. I’d be glad to.” After giving the alien another, considering, look he left the room.

  “So, then, sensei.” Cath’s voice was still dark, still harboring pain, but there was a calmness to it now missing from earlier statements. “Just exactly where do we go from here, then?”

  ☼

  The party was finally in full swing. Doug, working off a base of Cath’s rather frightening blue alcoholic concoction, had managed to produce a remarkably good punch, now being consumed with gusto by the tired but satisfied crew members.

  The tables in the center of the mess deck had been absorbed into the decking to make room for a dance floor. Leo and Sher drifted around, completely out of sync to the music and oblivious to anyone but each other. To one side, Doug and Fiona were trying to teach T’Han-mri how to do the twist, with disturbingly mixed results.

  Moses, looking on, shook his head. “She looks,” he declared seriously, “like an epileptic centipede.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Replied Ami, hanging onto his arm. “I’ve seen you dance. It’s a painful thing to watch.”

  “In all fairness, I did warn you.”

  “True.” She grinned and pulled him a bit closer.

  Overhead, Brian Wilson extolled the horrors of the Sloop John B. S’Nhu-gli gingerly took a sip from his glass and looked over to Moses. “The music your people make is so different from our own. We believe that music should be grand, exalting, glorifying. You believe it should be… “ He waved, vaguely, in the direction the music was coming from. “… loud.”