The Impris crew surged forward, engulfing the contact party. At first, their voices were indistinct; and then Legroeder heard: "MY GOD, ARE YOU GUYS REAL? OH, MY GOD—!" And then it was a total chaos of greetings and introductions, as the bewildered crew of the lost ship met the first humans from outside their hull in over a century.
Legroeder and the others watched for a while, then turned back to their part of the business at hand, which was to try to figure out a way to get both ships the hell out of this place.
"I think," said Cantha, "that we've pretty well confirmed where we are. But we still don't know how Impris got here, and or even for sure how we got here."
"Oh, that's great," said Derrek, the Kyber rigger, who seemed alternately impressed by and resentful of the Narseil success.
Cantha's neck-sail stiffened. "We appear to have passed through a quantum fluctuation as we entered the underflux fold. Unfortunately, it interfered with our ability to map what was happening. We really need to talk to the Impris riggers."
"The raindrop—was that the quantum fluctuation?" Legroeder asked.
"We believe so," Palagren said. "It was most likely a wave function connected to something deeper in the spacetime structure. We're still trying to understand why we found Impris right here when we passed through, instead of a dozen light-years away, where we thought she was."
"Are you saying we traveled that distance instantaneously— or was she actually here all along?" Legroeder asked.
"We're not sure the question actually has meaning in this context," said Cantha. "I'm not sure what the concept of distance means in the fold. But a more immediate question is, can we find a way back out through the quantum fluctuation, or is it a one-way passage?"
Derrek looked ill.
Legroeder prompted Palagren, who said, "To answer either question, we have to understand exactly what went on when we came through. We need to put our flight recordings through some intensive processing—which Cantha has already begun."
"I'm sure of this," said Cantha. "It's related to the phenomenon of quantum linkage across spacetime. We've always known that individual particles can be quantum-linked across vast distance—but no one's ever seen such a large-scale effect before, that I know of."
Legroeder mulled that over. "What about the problem we had grappling Impris? Was that quantum fluctuation, too?"
"Probably," said Cantha. "We know that the time flow is altered here. We've measured shifts in simultaneity, and all of us—" he gestured to the other Narseil "—have felt disturbances in the tessa'chron. But I still don't know how to interpret—"
He was interrupted by a call on the intercom. It was Captain Glenswarg, and he sounded annoyed. "Researchers and contact personnel report to the boarding area at once. Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch—for the third time, dammit, report to the bridge!"
Legroeder exchanged a mystified glance with Deutsch. "Have you heard him call before?"
"Nope," said Deutsch. "But I'm acknowledging now. Shall we go?"
"Keep us updated," Legroeder said to the Narseil, as he and Deutsch headed out of the room.
In the corridor, he heard another call from the captain— this time saying, "Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch, stand by to go aboard Impris. Please acknowledge and report to the bridge for your instructions."
Legroeder looked at Deutsch, puzzled.
They found Glenswarg stalking back and forth before the consoles. "Call Legroeder and Deutsch again," he was instructing the com officer. Then he turned around. "Oh—there you are. Good of you to make it, for Rings' sake."
"We came as soon as you called," Legroeder said.
Glenswarg looked annoyed. "I called four times."
"Four—?" Legroeder began—and suddenly realized what was happening. They'd heard the captain's first call after the third one. We're in trouble. "Captain, I think you'd better get your people mapping everything they can on temporal instabilities in the area." He explained what they had heard, and when.
Glenswarg's scowl deepened as the implications sank in. "Just what we need," he muttered. "Well, until we find something we can do about it, I suppose we should go ahead with our plans. You need to talk to the riggers over there. Make damn sure you report back regularly," He stuck a finger into Legroeder's breastbone. "Err on the side of calling too often. If anything like this happens again, I want to know. And don't stay long. Got that?"
"Yessir."
"Get going."
* * *
On the boarding deck, they found that a number of Kyber crewmen had already gone back and forth between the two ships. The Impris crew were reportedly eager to speak with their rescuers. "Captain said to conduct you straightaway to Impris," said the Kyber lieutenant in charge of transfer operations.
Legroeder peered out at the long, transparent tube stretched out between the two ships' airlocks. He shivered at the thought of that frail protection between him and the naked Flux; but there was no help for it, and now the lieutenant was waving them into the airlock.
"After you," said Deutsch, telescoping an arm forward. Legroeder grunted, then realized that Deutsch was probably ushering him ahead out of genuine consideration. After all, he had been looking for Impris far longer than Deutsch had. He nodded and stepped into the airlock.
Ship's gravity ended at the outer airlock door, and they floated out into the tube with a lurch. Two Kyber crewmen were waiting in the tube to escort them through. Legroeder was embarrassed but grateful. The weightlessness was disconcerting enough—but that became incidental when he looked out through the clear wall of the tube.
It was like gazing into another reality. They were the same swirling mists he saw in the rigger-net; but here, viewed with the human eye, they looked far more perilous, as though at any moment they might engulf him in their churning energies. What would happen if the ships moved apart and the boarding tube came loose, spilling him and Deutsch into the Flux? What horrifying death would they encounter?
Legroeder shuddered and headed for the far airlock. But Deutsch seemed fixated by the Flux; he was floating at the tube wall, peering out, his head a Christmas tree of flickering augments. "Freem'n, c'mon!" Legroeder shouted.
Deutsch followed reluctantly.
Legroeder sighed with relief as they floated into the Impris airlock. He grabbed a handhold, but stumbled nonetheless as the Impris gravity-field brought him to the deck with a lurch. Deutsch, effortless on his levitators, reached out to steady his friend. The Kyber crewmen checked to see they were secure, then launched themselves back toward Phoenix.
The airlock closed, and the inner hatch opened. Standing before them were two more Kyber, plus a pair of unfamiliar crewmen wearing rumpled Impris uniforms. The starliner crewmen looked haggard, but eager. "Sirs!" cried one. "Welcome aboard!"
"Thank you," said Legroeder. "We'd like to see your riggers and captain as soon as possible."
"He said to bring you right away," said the crewman in a strangely halting voice.
Legroeder started. Had that crewman just winked out for an instant, like a faulty holo? He wasn't a holo, though; Legroeder's nose told him that the crewman was overdue for a mist-shower.
"This way," said the other.
Legroeder glanced at Deutsch. A tickle from his implants told him that Freem'n had seen it, too. Not good, he thought, as he turned to follow the crewmen down the ship's corridor and—he hoped—toward the bridge.
* * *
Voices clamored as the bulkhead door opened. "Tiegs! Did you tell Poppy and Jamal to come out of there?"
"I told them, Captain."
"Tell them again! Tell them I said now."
As Deutsch and Legroeder stepped onto the bridge, they saw crew members scattered among various posts. The bridge itself looked different enough from modern designs to be noticeable—it had more silver and chrome, for one thing—and yet, it bore more similarities than differences. Apparently, ship design had been stable awhile. A tallish, white-haired man turned to greet them. He wore a
tattered uniform jacket over rumpled leisure pants. His bright blue eyes looked more than a little wild. "You're the riggers from Phoenix?" he demanded. It was more a shout than a greeting.
"Uh—yes—" began Legroeder.
The escorting crewman cleared his throat. "This is Captain Friedman—Noel Friedman. Captain, Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch."
"Welcome aboard!" the captain roared. "We're sure as hell happy to see you people! How the hell did you find us, out here?"
"That's a long story, Captain. I'd like to tell you about it when we have more—" Legroeder faltered, as he realized that Friedman was staring at Deutsch and not listening to a word. "Captain," he said hastily, "Rigger Deutsch is from the Free Kyber worlds."
"Free Kyber!"
"Yes, and I'm—well, from several worlds, I guess. Most recently, Faber Eridani."
"Faber Eri?" Friedman barked. "We're out of Faber Eri. Is that where Phoenix is from? I thought they said someplace named Ivan."
"Yessir. Phoenix is a Free Kyber ship, from Outpost Ivan. We've a mixed crew, including myself of the Centrist Worlds, and several Narseil members."
"Narseil! Kyber!" Friedman exclaimed. "Are you all working together? Is the war over?"
"Yes—for more than a hundred years."
"A hundred years!" Friedman looked from one to the other in astonishment. "Good Christ! Your captain said you'd been looking for us a long time, but... a hundred years?"
"A hundred twenty-four, actually. I'm afraid a lot has happened since you left Faber Eridani."
Friedman looked stunned. "I'm surprised anyone still remembers us," he said softly.
"Well, that's—"
"And yet, you came looking for us. Incredible." Friedman frowned. "What about Fandrang? Gloris Fandrang. Is he still working?"
Legroeder shook his head. "No, sir, I'm afraid he died many years ago. But it was his report that got me started in my search. There have been—" he hesitated, not wanting to get sidetracked by complicated explanations "—searches for you before. You have been seen by other ships. But no one has ever figured out how to get to you."
"Fandrang dead?" Friedman said thoughtfully. "Sweet Jesus. Pen Lee will be distressed to hear that. He's already pretty shaky. He was Fandrang's assistant, you know." Friedman shook his head. "Has it really been—what did you say?—a hundred twenty years?"
"A hundred twenty-four," said Deutsch, speaking for the first time.
Friedman gazed around his bridge, frowning. In one corner of the center monitor, Phoenix was visible, large against the Flux. Legroeder tried to imagine what the captain was thinking. How many friends, family members, loved ones had he left behind when he'd set out on his journey? None were left to greet him at home.
"So." Friedman drew himself up and turned back to Legroeder and Deutsch. "Well, let me introduce you to my crew." He brushed at his rumpled uniform. "I'm afraid our hospitality has gotten a little rusty. If you'd like to see the ship, we can arrange—"
Legroeder raised a hand to cut him off. "If we could do that later—right now, we want to talk to your riggers, to see if we can find out what happened to strand you here. We're still working on the best way to get out of here—we're in a fold in the underflux, you know, in a layer of the Deep Flux."
"Deep Flux?" Friedman blinked. "Let me get my riggers. Tiegs! Have those men come out yet?"
"Coming now, skipper."
"Good." Friedman turned back to Legroeder and Deutsch. "We are more grateful then I can tell you. There are four hundred eighty-six men, women, and children passengers aboard, plus seventy-four crew."
"Yes, we—"
"It means a lot to know that we weren't forgotten."
Legroeder swallowed as he thought about the lies told about the ship over the years. "You have an almost... legendary status," he said finally.
The captain's eyes widened. "Is that so? Well, what now, then? Can you get us out? Lead us back to civilization?" His gaze was filled with sudden intensity. "You should know that this ship is still fully functional." For an instant, the message blazed unmistakable in his eyes: Don't make me abandon my command.
Deutsch made a soft clicking sound. "Captain, we're compiling information about the quantum structure of the Flux here. We have experts with us from the Narseil Rigging Institute. And people from Phoenix to go over your ship with a fine-toothed comb for any evidence of what happened."
"You can try—but we went over the ship with a fine-toothed comb a hundred years ago and it didn't help." Friedman's eyes flashed. "Do you know the way out, or don't you?"
"We won't know until we try," said Legroeder. "That's why we really need to talk to your riggers."
Friedman spun around. "Where are those two?"
Across the bridge, a panel slid open on a rigger-station. "Did you want me, skipper?" said a bearded, black-skinned man as he rolled out slowly, shaking his head. On the next station, another panel creaked open and a thin, pale, blond-haired man climbed out, blinking in the bright light.
"We've been calling you for half an hour," said Friedman. "Come say hello to the riggers from Phoenix. They came a long way to find us."
"That's an understatement, I guess," said the first rigger. "Let me tell you—for a while there, I thought you guys were ghosts or something. But ghosts don't pull like that."
"Rigger Jamal," said Captain Friedman, and then gestured to the blond "—and Rigger Poppy. Meet Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch."
Legroeder stuck out a hand in greeting.
Poppy peered at him. "You the one from the Los Angeles?"
Legroeder nodded, memories cascading in his skull.
"And you—" Poppy cocked his head at Deutsch "—you look just like a guy I saw in the net of some ship—jeez, it was like a damn pirate ship or something. It came out of nowhere and started shooting up another ship that looked like they were trying to help us."
Deutsch was silent a moment. "That was not me. But I think I know the people you mean."
Poppy frowned in puzzlement.
"We came to try to help you," Deutsch said softly.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" said Jamal. "Can you lead us out of here? I'm ready when you are."
"It's a little more complicated than that," said Legroeder.
"These two gentlemen need to sit down and talk to you," Friedman said. "Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch want to know about your experience."
"That's right," Legroeder said. "Everything you can tell us about how you got here. Anything that might help us avoid blind alleys or mistakes getting out again."
Deutsch interjected, "If you don't mind my asking, how have you managed to survive all this time?"
Friedman's brows went up. "We've done all right. We've... taken good care of the passengers, all things considered. We had to expand our hydroponics and recyclers and so on, of course." He pressed his lips together; he was trembling a little. "But you know—this time thing. It sure hasn't—well, it hasn't been any hundred and twenty-four years, here."
"More like an eternity," muttered Jamal.
Legroeder nodded, sensing the strain they were all under. "Is there someplace we can talk?" he asked gently.
* * *
The corridors of the passenger liner were starting to fill up with crewmen from Phoenix, working with Impris officers to interview the passengers and crew, and see to any immediate needs or medical problems. The captain emptied a nearby conference room for the riggers to confer.
They had barely gotten settled around the table, however, when a call came to Legroeder on his collar-com from Phoenix, via relays set up through the boarding tube. It was Captain Glenswarg, wondering why the hell he hadn't reported in.
"We just got here," Legroeder said, surprised. "We've only just sat down to talk."
"Just sat down? You've been over there for six hours," said Glenswarg.
Legroeder's heart froze. "Excuse me, Captain? It's been less than half an hour, our time."
There was silence on the com. Then: "Christ.
All right—look. Stay there absolutely not a minute longer than you have to. And report back to me in ten minutes, your time. Understood?"
"Understood," Legroeder echoed. He exchanged troubled glances with Deutsch, then turned to the Impris officers. "It looks like we're having some problems —Captain, are you all right?"
Friedman looked startled. "I'm fine. Why?"
"You seemed to blink out for a moment."
Friedman winced. "That sort of thing happens. We don't really know why. But the whole ship is riddled with time distortions. It seems to affect some of us more than others."
"What exactly do you mean?" Legroeder shifted his gaze from the captain to the riggers and back again. He was afraid to take his eyes off any of them.
"From one part of the ship to the next?" Friedman looked puzzled, as if unsure what should be obvious and what not. "As if the time seems to flow in these ripples and eddies, you know. Fast one place, slow another. Depending on where you are in the ship, you're aging faster, or more slowly." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We've got one couple spending their time in a damn closet together, because time is slow there. They've been gambling on being rescued. But who knows if they're right? Because if we weren't rescued, they'd just be prolonging their lives so they'd be left behind when the rest of us finally die."
Legroeder shivered.
"Not to mention," Poppy interjected, "that boy who tried to kill hims—"
"Here now—no need to talk of that," Friedman chided. "We're here to think constructively."
Legroeder drew a deep breath. "We'd better concentrate on the rigging issues. Let's start by finding out what you know about how you got here. How much do you remember?"
Jamal snorted. "What's to remember? We were rigging along just fine, and when the time came to get out, we couldn't."
Legroeder glanced at Deutsch. "You didn't notice anything along the way? Any hint of problems?"
Poppy waved his hand in agitation. "Jamal, you're forgetting—there was that whole business of when we went through a sort of funnel. It wasn't such a big deal—except we all thought the Flux felt different afterward."
Eternity's End Page 46
