Starbridge

by A. C. Crispin

  "I can't believe you're doing this," the doctor's muffled voice reached her as she sealed up the front of the suit and reached for the helmet.

  "I can't believe I'm doing it either," Mahree admitted.

  A moment later, she had the helmet locked on, then she slid the gloves over her hands and sealed them. Mahree tapped the gun against the cargo hatch to get Rob's attention, then gestured brusquely at the other suits.

  He got up a little stiffly, then selected a suit, donning it far more quickly than Mahree had, due to his recent practice. As he fastened his helmet, he spoke up: "Radio check."

  "I hear you," Mahree said. "And I'll also hear you if you open a channel to the bridge, understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Now be quiet, I've got to concentrate."

  Still keeping the weapon centered on the helmet of his suit, she keyed open the inner door to the big cargo airlock. She stopped short of the last entry.

  "All that," she muttered, "and I've got two minutes to spare." She glanced around her, frowning. "We may need these suits when we meet the Mizari.

  Rob, strap all the charged breathing paks together, so we can take them with us."

  He obeyed quickly. They made a bulky bundle as he dragged them over to the airlock. "What do the Mizari look like?" he asked.

  "That's not their real name," Mahree admitted. "I just made it up. And I haven't the faintest idea what they look like. Dhurrrkk' didn't have time to tell me."

  Before he could say anything more, she keyed in the final sequence, and the airlock door slid open. "All right, inside," she said, motioning. "You carry in the bags, and then come back for the breathing paks. Don't forget that I've still got this gun, and that I'm watching you."

  "Don't worry," he said, with an attempt at lightness, "you've got me thoroughly convinced that you'll shoot. I'm too cowed to do anything rash."

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  Mahree muttered an imprecation under her breath, then snapped, "Just do it!"

  She was right behind him as he stepped through the doors, then she signaled the lock to depressurize. "Grab something, Rob. I'm going to turn off the gravity. How are you in no-weight?"

  She could see him shake his head through the clear material of his faceplate. "I don't know," he said. "I've never experienced zero gee. How are you!"

  "I'll be all right," she said. "I've got a cast-iron stomach . . . unless, that is, you get sick. If you do, you're on your own."

  "Okay," Rob said dryly. "I'm warned."

  Mahree slowly moved the switch that controlled the gravity in the airlock.

  She decreased it by one-half, then paused. "So far so good?"

  "Yup," Rob answered cheerfully. "Ten different kinds of aliens, you say?"

  "At least." She decreased the gravity again, until they were at one-sixth gee.

  "Still okay? This is lunar gravity."

  "Fine," Rob said.

  "Okay, I'm going for a tenth, now." She decreased the gravity again.

  Even at one-sixth gee, there had been enough gravity to keep her feet on the deck. But now they had a disturbing tendency to lose contact with the flooring--a hard push with her toes would have been enough to send her bumping against the ceiling. But there was still a sense that the deck was

  "down" and the ceiling was "up." Mahree knew that sense would disappear as soon as she turned off the gravity altogether. "How's that?" she asked Rob.

  "Feels funny," he said, cautiously clinging with both hands to the handrail that ran around the inside of the airlock.

  "Experiencing any vertigo?"

  "Not yet," he said nervously. "But the perilymph and endolymph are beginning to slosh around in my inner ear."

  "Move slowly. Take it easy ... very ... easy ..."As she finished speaking, she slid the switch up the final notch, until the gravity was gone.

  At first it felt like dropping in a high-speed elevator. Then, as she looked around the airlock, Mahree realized that "up" and "down" had indeed become meaningless terms. She found that

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  she could force herself to think of the deck as "down" intellectually, but that the designation had no credibility, because all her senses told her that every direction was "down." Or "up." Or just away.

  "You okay?" she asked Rob.

  "So far, so good," he said, sounding a little grim.

  "Just keep thinking about seeing more aliens than you can shake a stick at,"

  she encouraged him. "Now, move over into that far corner, away from the airlock controls, and stay there. I'm going to open the hatch. Don't jump me, or we'll both wind up out there without a lifeline, understand?"

  "Don't worry," Rob said grimly, shuffling his magnetic soles along the deck, clutching the handrail, "moving fast is the last thing I want to try right now."

  Mahree checked her suit's chrono display as she pulled herself over to the control panel. Damn, I'm seventy seconds late! Is he still there?

  Feeling as though she were moving underwater, Mahree triggered the sequence to open the outer lock. A minute later, the panels slid aside. The girl could feel the rumbling vibration of their movement through her hands, but she could no longer hear any sounds except Rob's breathing--and her own--through the suit radio.

  Mahree kept one hand clamped on the rail, the magnetized soles of her boots firmly pressed against the deck, as she leaned over to peer out, into space.

  The cargo airlock lay in a patch of shadow, so she could see the stars--they looked like minuscule gemmed nailheads, sharp and unwinking. Mahree gripped the handrail tightly, because for a moment she seemed to be falling into a black well that surrounded her---and everywhere she looked was

  "down."

  After a moment, her disorientation eased, and she was able to look "up," to a point opposite Desiree. Nothing hampered her view of the stars ... no Simiu vessel, nothing.

  He's not here, she thought, feeling her heart contract. Either I missed him, or he couldn't get the ship . . .

  As she watched, something amber glided toward her, lit by the station's lights. Soon it blotted out the stars as it moved into a position alongside Desiree. It was one of the hammerheaded Simiu craft, a vessel not much larger than the cruisers that had escorted the freighter to the station.

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  Mahree laughed in sheer relief, bouncing on her toes in excitement. Her motion pulled the magnetized strips on her bootsoles free of the deck, and she had to grab the handrail with both hands. "He's here!" she cried, regaining her equilibrium, then cautiously turning back to Rob. "He got the ship!"

  The alien craft's amidships airlock slid open, and a single spacesuited Simiu figure waved one arm, then beckoned. "I knew he'd come!" Mahree exclaimed triumphantly.

  "Yeah, but how can you be sure that it's your friend in there?" Rob asked.

  "That we're not walking into a trap?"

  "We're not walking," Mahree said abstractedly, leaning over the edge of the hull to look out again. "We're going to jump."

  '''Jump! The length of a football field, almost? It must be twenty-five meters across!"

  Mahree ran a calculating eye over the void between the two now-motionless vessels. "At least that. But we'll be okay." She began programming the cargo cable for launch sequence, then waved the Simiu figure to get back into the shelter of his airlock. Dhurrrkk' moved out of sight.

  At her signal, the cargo cable went sailing out into space like a silvery umbilicus. The trajectory was perfect--the magnetic end of the cable thudded against the bulkhead of the Simiu craft, and clung. Mahree gave it an experimental tug, finding it safely anchored.

  "What are we going to do?" Rob asked nervously, watching as she unclipped several "skyhooks."

  "We're going to hook these cargo skyhooks onto our suits, then push ourselves away from the airlock," she said. "We'll just slide over on the cable. They do it all the time during ship-to-ship transfers of cargo. Just be sure not to push off too hard, and not to thrash around. You could start spinning, and t
hat would be dangerous. Remember your laws of inertia."

  "Uh, yeah," Rob said dubiously, venturing to the edge of the airlock and looking "down" into the void, then glancing at the slender cable overhead.

  "That wire doesn't look strong enough. It's just a thread."

  "It's strong enough, Rob," Mahree said, with eroding patience. "There's no gravity, remember? It doesn't have to support your weight, it's just going to control the path of your jump. Just take it slow. You'll keep drifting at whatever speed you start out with. Watch."

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  Moving cautiously in the zero gravity, Mahree picked up the bundle of breathing paks, clipped a skyhook to them, then fastened the other end over the cable. She gave the awkward bundle a push, careful to apply equal strength to both sides.

  The bundle moved away, sailing across the intervening space in a slow-motion glide. Despite Mahree's caution, it began to spin, but it reached its destination without mishap. The spacesuited Simiu grabbed the bundle and detached it.

  Mahree turned to Rob, motioning with the gun. "Your turn."

  He gulped audibly. "Mahree ... I don't know if I can ..."

  She glared at him through the faceplate. "Then clip your skyhook to one of these handrails so you won't float out when I stun you! I'm going, with you or without you!"

  Rob sucked in a deep breath, then he clipped his skyhook to the cable, and launched himself into space.

  Mahree realized immediately that he'd pushed off entirely too hard. He began spinning helplessly, and then he began to struggle, which made it worse. Gasps of fear mingled with curses emanated from the radio. "Rob!"

  she cried. "Stop thrashing! You might pull loose!"

  As she watched helplessly, his spinning form reached the Simiu airlock. If it hadn't been for the quick reaction of the alien in the lock, he might have crashed into the edge with bone- breaking force.

  "Rob!" Mahree called anxiously. "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah," he answered, after a moment, gulping. "Trying not to be sick."

  Quickly, Mahree tossed the gun back into the airlock, then she clipped her own skyhook. Grasping the handles of both bags in her right hand, she steadied herself on the edge of the airlock, legs bent. Trying for one smooth motion, she straightened her knees and pushed off.

  She was free of Desiree . . . floating along effortlessly toward the Simiu figure that stood waiting for her. Mahree swallowed as she stared out at the stars, realizing for the first time that there was virtually nothing between her and them--only the material of her spacesuit, and a tiny layer of air.

  She nearly panicked as the "everywhere is down" sensation filled her mind again. Resolutely, she squeezed her eyes shut, until she felt hands grabbing her, halting her. Her magnetized soles clung, then she was in the airlock of the Simiu ship, safe.

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  Dhurrrkk' detached her skyhook, and she grabbed for the nearest handhold, watching as her alien friend released the cargo cable, pushing it away from his ship. Then he closed the airlock. Gravity returned a moment later.

  After triggering the air and pressure controls, the Simiu opened his helmet, and she heard his voice, faintly: "This is Honored HealerGable, is it not?

  Why is he here?"

  Mahree took off her own helmet and nodded. "Yes. He found me leaving, so I had to bring him with me. But I believe that he will make no trouble, now that he has been convinced of the importance of our mission."

  Rob had also removed his helmet, and was staring at her, his eyes wide.

  "You're ... you're talking to him!" he sputtered. "You can speak their language!"

  "After a fashion," she said. "My accent is terrible."

  Rob turned to the Simiu. "Honored Dhurrrkk'," he said, in English, "I am very grateful to you for saving me. I consider it an honor to be allowed to accompany you on such a noble and vital mission."

  "Honored Healer Gable," Dhurrrkk' said, aloud, formally, also in English,

  "your presence honors this vessel." Mahree could not tell whether or not the Simiu was being ironic. "FriendMahree, I must get us away from here," he continued, in his own language. "Any moment now they will miss this ship and start after us."

  Mahree nodded, and the Simiu left.

  She stood up and began pulling off her spacesuit, grateful that she had fresh air to breathe again, even if it was hot and sticky. Moments later, the Simiu ship began vibrating nearly imperceptibly. They were underway.

  Rob took off his suit, then sat down on the deck with a sigh. "To think that you actually speak Simiu. Is that how you found out about these other races?"

  "Partly," Mahree said. "It's a long story."

  He patted the deck next to him. "At the moment, honey, time is all we have.

  Start at the beginning."

  Taking a deep breath of the humid air, Mahree launched into the entire story.

  When she finished, her mouth was dry. Rob was staring at her with a strange expression; it seemed to be composed of equal parts of exasperation and awe. Slowly, he shook his head. "No

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  wonder you were in such a panic to reach these Mizari. But you might have trusted me enough to come to me and explain. I'd have helped you willingly, then."

  "I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, after I heard you saying we should rip Desiree loose. Everyone in that meeting sounded so ... so hostile."

  "How long will the trip take?"

  "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Dhurrrkk' said he was going to program us for a roundabout course, so we wouldn't run any chance of being intercepted before we can make Stellar Velocity. Several weeks each way, I suppose."

  Rob wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand, pushing back his damp, matted hair. "Several weeks?" He sighed. "In this heat? Well, at least I'll get a chance to try and learn the language. How did you--"

  He broke off at a noise from the entrance way, and they both turned to find Dhurrrkk' there. The Simiu was wearing his computer link and voder, and both humans hurriedly dug through their bags for theirs.

  "We are underway," the alien said. "I believe I have set a course that makes it look as though we are heading for one of our colony worlds."

  "How long before we go S.V.?" Mahree asked.

  "Several more hours," Dhurrrkk' answered. "But 1 believe our escape had not been detected at the time we left, so they will have difficulty tracing us."

  "How did you manage to get the ship?" Mahree asked.

  Dhurrrkk's crest flattened, and his violet eyes dropped. "I told an untruth," he admitted. "A very reprehensible action on my part. Most dishonorable ..."

  "What did you tell them?"

  "I said that Rhrrrkkeet' had instructed me to move this vessel to the other side of the station, so it would be ready to transport her down to the next Council meeting."

  Rob gave Mahree a skeptical glance. She nodded. "This society isn't nearly as suspicious as ours," she explained, aloud. "The Simiu assume you're telling the truth until it's proved that you're lying. Falsehood is very rare."

  "They managed to lie to us effectively enough," Rob muttered grimly.

  "But, Honored HealerGable, it was early decided that equivocation 153

  would be allowed in our dealings with you, because you were outsiders, and therefore not to be trusted until you proved yourselves to be beings capable of honor," Dhurrrkk' said. Mahree thought that she detected embarrassment in his manner. "Such a decision was not very honorable, I admit, but my people soothed their consciences with the knowledge that, if you humans proved to be worthy-of-honor, the truth would then be revealed to you."

  "After all," Mahree pointed out, "we were only risking ourselves. They were risking seven entire worlds, if we proved to be the vanguard of an invasionary force."

  "I understand," Rob said thoughtfully.

  Dhurrrkk' busied himself hanging up their spacesuits, then picked up the two bags. "Let me show you my vessel," he invited.

  "Does it have a name?" Rob asked.

  Mahree shook her
head. "They don't name things the way we do. It just has a code."

  Rob glanced around him as they followed the alien into the corridor. "We ought to give it a name, then," he mused. "Something appropriate to the occasion ..."

  "Be my guest," Mahree said, smiling, as they ducked beneath an arching overhead stanchion.

  Rob was silent as they followed Dhurrrkk' along the brightly colored passageway. Finally he snapped his fingers. "Got it!"

  "What?" Absorbed in her first glimpses into the hydroponics area (where dark emerald, olive green, and aqua vegetation grew lushly), she'd lost the thread of their conversation.

  "The name. How about Rosinante!"

  "What?"

  "Not what, who. Rosinante was Don Quixote's dauntless steed, who carried him when he rode off on his crazy quests," Rob said, smiling. "Quests nearly as crazy as this one, it seems to me. They included tilting at windmills in lieu of giants."

  Mahree laughed.

  Dhurrrkk' led them on a complete tour of the small ship, from bow to stern.

  Mahree was fascinated by the control cabin, and the alien promised to teach her how to interface her linkup with the main computer so she could trade watches with him--although she'd have to take them sitting on the floor.

  Simiu "seats" were all wrong for human body contours.

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  Rosinante was lavishly outfitted, but very small--it possessed only two sleeping cabins and a small dormitory off the tiny cargo area. Dhurrrkk' led them up to the entrance to one of the cabins, then activated the portal with a flourish.

  Obviously pleased with himself, he waved the humans inside. Mahree and Rob stepped into a small cubicle with fright orange and blue walls, and a scarlet heap of bedding/lounging cushions in its middle. It contained little else, only a few storage cabinets and shelves. "Do you notice the difference?" Dhurrrkk' asked. Both humans clearly sensed his anticipation.

  Mahree glanced around, biting her lip, wondering what could possibly be different. But Rob, in his long-sleeved ship's coveralls, was quick to realize.

  "It's cooler in here!"

  Dhurrrkk' nodded enthusiastically. "I have instructed the life- support system to maintain your quarters in this manner. Is it to your liking? Do you find it comfortable?"