Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  Harriet remained silent as Legroeder watched the initial part of Jakus's testimony. It was a fairly straightforward account of the raider attack, with one critical omission: any mention of the sighting of the lost starship Impris. Legroeder stared, tight-lipped, waiting to see how his old shipmate would explain the L.A.'s entrapment by the pirate ship. The Jakus on the recording looked like a different person from the one Legroeder had served with on the L.A. For one thing, he seemed far more tentative and cautious, and—Legroeder thought—old. Or perhaps not so much old, as worn. His time in servitude with the pirates had taken a heavy toll. A datachip implant flickered on his left temple—a gift of the pirates, no doubt. Legroeder wondered how he'd been received here on Faber Eridani with that implant; there was a lot of prejudice about that sort of thing on many of the Centrist Worlds—or at least there had been seven years ago. Not for the first time, Legroeder uttered a prayer of gratitude that he had been spared that particular indignity.

  Eventually someone on the inquest panel had asked Jakus why the Ciudad de los Angeles had slowed enough to make it vulnerable to attack in the first place.

  "Watch Jakus's face here," Harriet murmured.

  The haggard-faced man on the screen hesitated before answering. Jakus looked as though he were running two or three possible scenarios through his mind. Twice, he seemed about to speak, before biting back words. He scratched at the implant on his temple, cocking his head slightly. Finally he answered in a gravelly voice, "It was because of a bum image from our stern-rigger. He had some kind of crazy idea he'd seen a vessel in distress." Jakus seemed to be trying to laugh at the idea; but the laugh couldn't quite get out. "The rest of us and the skip—we saw right through that. It was just a clumsy deception thrown up by the pirates to confuse us."

  "And were you confused?" asked an offscreen voice.

  "Well, yeah—things got pretty damn hairy pretty fast." Jakus barked a laugh, almost a cough. "But still—"

  "What?"

  "Well, you know. If our stern-rigger hadn'ta fallen for it, we could've steered clear. The pirates didn't come after us 'til after we'd slowed."

  "But if you and the captain saw through it, couldn't you do something?"

  Jakus shook his head. He seemed to gain a measure of self-confidence, now that the lie was out. "You got to understand about rigging—it's a team thing. It only takes one person pulling the wrong way, or getting confused, to bring the whole thing down around you. And that's what happened—we got bad input from the stern, 'cause our guy there kept sayin' he saw something. And even though the skip said—well—" Jakus's voice faltered. "Well, he said to stay right on course, but we couldn't—couldn't do it—"

  "Because of the stern-rigger?"

  "Yeah."

  "And his name was—?"

  "Oh, uh—" Jakus hesitated, swallowing. "Groder, I think it was. Is that right?"

  A different voice from the panel: "There was a Renwald Legroeder listed on the rigger crew. Is that who you mean?"

  Jakus's voice shook a little. "That's it."

  "Thank you—"

  "Legroeder," Jakus repeated, his voice gaining strength. "It was Renwald Legroeder."

  The recording ended.

  Legroeder stared at the blank screen. "I'll be a God-damned son of a monkey."

  Harriet turned off the monitor and settled into the wingbacked chair behind her office desk. The sunlight coming in through the window was turning golden orange with the approach of sunset. "What do you think?"

  "I think," growled Legroeder, "that I'd like to have a talk with my friend Jakus."

  "Well, I'm not sure that would be very productive." Harriet lowered her glasses to hang from the chain around her neck. "That was two years ago. The inquest is history now. But if we could prove that there was falsification—"

  "Prove it? The sonofabitch lied through his teeth because he thought he'd never have to answer to me." Legroeder tried, with difficulty, to keep his anger under control. "You don't happen to know where he lives, do you?"

  "I haven't really kept track—"

  "You aren't going to bullshit me now. My lawyer?"

  Harriet scowled. "All right. As your lawyer, I strongly recommend that you not attempt a personal confrontation. You're out on bail, if you haven't forgotten."

  "I haven't forgotten. But something rotten's going on, and we aren't going to find out what by sitting here. So do you know where Jakus is, or not?"

  Harriet stared at him for a moment. "Let me see what my PI's latest files say." She put her glasses back on, tapped on a small screen on her desktop and studied it before looking back up at Legroeder. "According to this, he lived for a short time in a RiggerGuild complex on the outskirts of the city; then he left the Guild and moved out into a small condominium. He hasn't flown since, though he's done some work for a maintenance outfit at the spaceport." She studied the screen again. "What would a rigger do for a maintenance company, I wonder."

  Legroeder rubbed his chin, remembering many days on maintenance details at the raider outpost.

  "Whatever it is, he spends a lot of time at it. According to this—and I must commend my PI for staying current—he's moved out of his condominium and is spending all of his time with that maintenance outfit."

  "You mean he's sleeping at the spaceport?"

  "Apparently so." Harriet closed the screen again. "The question is, what should we do?"

  Legroeder rose, shaking, and not from the coffee. "I know what I have to do."

  "That's not what I meant, Legroeder. Will you please let me do this right—and keep you out of jail? Let my PI make the contact."

  Legroeder closed his eyes, as the memory of all that had happened to him welled up, bringing his rage with it. He struggled to push the rage back under. "I'm sure you're probably right. But this... is something I have to do myself." Jakus Bark. My friend. Backstabbing bastard. He forced a smile at Harriet. "I'll be good. I'm not going to start a fight with him or anything. But I am going to talk to him. I mean, we used to work together. That counts for something, right?"

  "Legroeder, please—"

  "And after this, I'll follow your advice. I promise."

  * * *

  The spaceport field was a sprawling place, bordered with countless hangars and repair shops and administration buildings, and few signposts for strangers. Legroeder had traveled in and out of this port before, but he still had trouble finding his way around; the place had changed in seven years. They'd taken his RiggerGuild ID away from him, but as it turned out, security was nonexistent on this part of the field.

  Legroeder stood at the edge of the decayed plasphalt pavement of a parking lot and squinted across the complex into the setting sun, trying to figure out from Harriet's notes just where the maintenance hangar might be. He was at a remote corner of the field, and it looked more like a down-at-the-heels industrial park than a spaceport.

  Harriet's words echoed in his mind. What are you going to do if he won't talk to you? She'd given him a good, long stare. If his own grandmother had still been alive, she couldn't have conveyed greater sternness.

  He hadn't had an answer, and still didn't. But he knew one thing: pushing paper wouldn't get answers out of Jakus. He had to confront the man himself.

  The line of hangars just across the way looked promising. He started across the crumbling tarmac, clenching and unclenching his fists. When he realized what he was doing, he pressed his open hands to his sides.

  The shop he was looking for was the last one, marked by a dusty sign: Cavanaugh and Farhoodi Rigger Systems. The hangar door was shut, so he tried a small door to one side. It opened with a creak and banged shut behind him as he entered. Inside was a dingy outer office, with a scarred counter and one dirty chair; behind the counter was an inner office, with a light on. A voice—a woman's—called out: "Who's there, eh? We're closed!"

  "Hello!" he called, and moved around the end of the counter to peer into the office.

  A thick-waisted woman in a faded
jumpsuit stood behind a desk, holding a dusting wand. "That door was supposed to be locked," she said, sounding annoyed. "They're closed here."

  Legroeder showed his empty hands. "I'm sorry—I'm not here on business, exactly. I'm looking for someone named Jakus Bark. I heard he worked here."

  The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yeah, I guess he does. What d'you want with him?"

  The words came reluctantly. "We used to... rig together. I haven't seen him in years, and I, um, wanted to say hello. I'm... interested in getting into his line of work."

  The woman squinted at him, obviously processing his words slowly. He couldn't tell if she recognized him from the news or not. Perhaps she wasn't someone who watched the news. "I'll check," she said. She touched a com switch on her collar, spoke subvocally for a moment, then nodded. "What's your name?"

  He told her, and she relayed the information. Her eyebrows went up once, as she listened to a reply. Finally she shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. He's in the, what do you call it, sim'lator three, out back." She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating a door behind her. "Don't touch nothin', though, 'cause you probably shouldn't be in here." She muttered under her breath for a moment before adding, "and be quick, eh? I don't want to get in no trouble."

  "I'll be careful," Legroeder assured her. "Thank you." He passed through the door into the hangar and paused to let his eyes adapt to the gloom. There were several modest-sized spacecraft in the hangar, with various bays and panels open for servicing. One small craft was in an advanced stage of disassembly. Legroeder had to skirt around the front of the first ship just to find a path back through the hangar. Two ship-lengths back, against the righthand wall, he saw three giant grey eggs. They were rigger-station simulators, used for testing repairs to the flux-reactors and rigger-net equipment. As he walked back alongside the ships, Legroeder saw a flicker of actinic light on the far side of the hangar. Someone was working with a photonic torch on the underside of a third ship.

  The door was slightly ajar on simulator three, letting light escape. As he approached, he could see a full bank of controls and monitors—and the back of someone's head. Suddenly the door slid the rest of the way open, and the couch rotated, and his old comrade Jakus Bark blinked up at him from beneath the brim of a battered duckbilled cap. "Legroeder," he said, rubbing his left temple. An implant glittered beneath his fingertip. "Wha'd'ya know?"

  Legroeder's voice caught. "Hi... Jakus."

  Jakus squinted. "Shit, man—good to see you. I heard somethin' on the news that you got out. Man, I didn't think anybody would ever get out of there. Way to go!" His voice trembled as he peered up at his former crewmate.

  Legroeder had to reach to find his own voice. A host of feelings were welling up inside him, most of them violent. "You made it out," he said finally. "Imagine my surprise to hear about it."

  Jakus's eyebrows went up a fraction of an instant, and then he laughed—a nervous bark that echoed in the little chamber.

  "They didn't seem to remember it at the RiggerGuild," Legroeder said, with forced evenness. "About you coming back."

  "Well, heh—that's the RiggerGuild for you."

  "Yeah," Legroeder said. "So how'd you get out?"

  Jakus shrugged. "I was on a raider ship that blew up, a couple of years ago. I was the only one to get out alive. How about you?"

  "Escaped," Legroeder said. "Not a fun story."

  "I bet not." Jakus gave another nervous laugh. He gestured at the simulator panel. "You like my new job?"

  "Yeah, real nice place here." Legroeder looked around at the hangar, then back at Jakus. "I get the feeling you're not too happy to see me—if you don't mind my saying so."

  "Well—no, it's not that, man. Shit—let me get out of here—" Jakus lurched forward out of the reclining seat of the rigger-sim and grabbed the edges of the doorway "—I been sittin' awhile." He hauled himself out of the giant egg and stood upright, towering over Legroeder by half a dozen centimeters. His hair looked thinner than when Legroeder had last seen him, and his face more chiseled. "I just wasn't expectin' you to turn up here out of the blue, that's all. How the hell'd you find me, anyway?"

  Legroeder ignored the question and glanced around again. "What is it you do here, anyway?"

  "Pretty much what it looks like." Jakus shrugged. "Refit ships, test 'em out for the customers. It's not too fancy a shop, but it's better than some places we've seen, right?"

  Legroeder didn't argue. No doubt it was better than the raider outpost, where every moment was a battle between fear and despair. But how had a rigger like Jakus wound up in a place like this? He'd been a good rigger in his time. Before the pirates...

  "So what's up, Renwald?" Jakus leaned back against the simulator shell. "You didn't drop in just to say hi, I guess."

  Legroeder felt his gaze narrow. "No. I didn't." A knot was tightening in his stomach. "I came, actually, to ask you about your testimony before the RiggerGuild."

  "Testimony?" Jakus grunted.

  "Yeah. Testimony. About the L.A. You want to tell me about that? About why you lied to the Guild about what happened to the L.A.?"

  Jakus looked away. "Don't know what you're talkin' about," he said, rubbing his nose. "I didn't give no testimony."

  Legroeder snapped, "I saw the recording of it, Jakus. You blamed me for what happened to the L.A."

  Jakus gave that nervous laugh again. "Nah, I didn't really. I remember now. I didn't know what you were talking about at first."

  Legroeder drew his lips back. "You said you and the captain tried to tell me that Impris wasn't real—and that I was the one who put the ship in danger."

  Jakus looked down at the floor. "Yeah, well—isn't that what happened?"

  "You sonofabitch!" Legroeder slammed the side of his fist against the shell of the simulator. "You saw that ship just the same as I did! And it was Captain Hyutu who gave the order to move in, and you backed me up when I made the identification!"

  Jakus's eyebrows went up. "Did I?"

  "Yes. You damn well did." Legroeder let his breath out with a hiss. "What'd those pirates do to you, Jake? Back then, I could've trusted you to tell the truth. Instead of lying to protect your own little ass—"

  Jakus jerked a little.

  "—or whatever the hell it is you're protecting."

  Jakus said nothing. His right eye had begun to twitch, and he rubbed at the tic with his finger. As Jakus shifted his head, Legroeder noticed that a second implant behind the man's right ear was alive with a tiny, erratic red flicker. Was Jakus connected to something or someone right now? Or was he just thinking?

  "The truth," Jakus said slowly. "Easy word for you to use. What exactly do you mean by it?"

  Legroeder snorted. "Do I have to explain the word 'truth' to you?"

  Jakus worked his mouth for a moment, then cocked his head toward the glowing interior of the rigger-sim. "Well, hell, Renwald, we're both riggers, right? We both know that half the time there's no way you can tell what's real and what isn't, in the Flux."

  "Don't bullshit me, Jakus. Is that thing whispering so loud in your ear you can't even hear yourself think anymore? You and I know what we saw."

  "Not real," Jakus said, with a shake of his head. "Not real."

  "You know it was real!" Legroeder shouted. "You heard the distress call. Hyutu wasn't even in the net, and he heard it! If anyone was responsible, it was him."

  "Show some respect," Jakus said, with a shiver. "A little respect for the dead, okay?"

  Legroeder was drawn up short. "Who's dead?"

  "Hyutu." Jakus make a throat-slitting motion with his finger. "The pirates did 'im. You and me, we were lucky to get out with our skins."

  Legroeder scowled. "How do you know? Did you see it happen?"

  Jakus shrugged. He tapped the silver disk on his temple. "You had one of these Kyber things, you'd be able to see things a whole lot better. Understand stuff you don't know now."

  Legroeder felt a chill at Jakus's words. Kyber thi
ngs? "Is that it?" he whispered. "Is that what took your—" he struggled for the right word "—integrity from you? The implants?"

  That brought a sharp laugh from the other man. "We gonna talk about my integrity now? Oh, yeah, Renwald—you must've had loads of integrity, the whole time you were pilotin' pirate ships, burning innocent people. Oh, yeah."

  Legroeder's face grew hot with bitterness and shame. "I did what I had to, to survive. I don't deny that I rigged ships for them." There had been no choice, if he'd wanted to live. And it was only his exceptional skill as a rigger that had kept him free of an implant; he'd persuaded his captors that he could rig better without those things in his head.

  "Yeah, Renwald, that's right. We did what we had to to survive. You and me both. Maybe if you'd taken a chip you wouldn't be so high and mighty about it now." Jakus sneered. "Listen, it was sure nice of you to stop by, but I've got work to do."

  Legroeder realized he had allowed Jakus to derail him from his point. "You lied to the Guild, Jake. Thanks to you, I'm losing my certificate and getting framed for what happened to the L.A."

  "I'm real sorry about that," Jakus said.

  "Sorry enough to go back and tell the truth? Tell them we both saw Impris? Tell them it was real?"

  Jakus shook his head. "I told you already—there's no way to know what was real and what wasn't. You thought it was real, and I didn't. Neither did the captain. I ain't gonna change my story about that."

  "The pirates were real enough, weren't they?" Legroeder growled.

  "Oh yeah, they were real." Jakus glanced over his shoulder, as though worried that someone might overhear. "Listen—we're both damned lucky to have gotten away at all. Maybe you're losing your certificate—not that I have one anymore, either—but at least you got away alive. Isn't that more important than your certificate? You can still work."