by Smith, S. E.
* * *
At first only the bigger ship started after the probe, but after a tense wait, the other ships broke their line, too. It was the first encouraging sign since they’d dropped out of comet space.
“They all want a piece of us,” City said. “Shuttle is heading our way.”
Ground fire followed them up.
Kraye had already started the Emissary in that direction.
“If we slow down to pick them up—” Caro began, her gaze on the numbers.
“We will not make it. OxeroidR knows this, too. I have set an intercept course. I will attempt to match their speed and angle for boarding.”
City opened her mouth to protest, but he was right. The shuttle would have one shot at it, but once inside…
“What if I activate the field we used to protect our passengers? It might cushion the impact.”
Kraye gave a sharp nod.
City said “make it so” to herself and activated the field. And then she activated the comm.
“Brace for impact.”
* * *
OxeroidR tracked their flight path and that of the Emissary, making necessary adjustments to avoid ground fire and make their intercept. The enemy ships had turned back from their pursuit of the decoy probe. One of the smaller, faster ships would get there before them if he slowed too much. He considered the hanger bay. They would need at least one shuttle at their next destination. Could he bring this shuttle in without critically damaging the Emissary, the other shuttles, or themselves?
The comm crackled.
“I’ve activated the energy net we used for our passengers. Can you point your nose toward the cargo bay as you come on board?” Sergeant City asked.
“I can,” he informed her.
Rocky gave him a skeptical look. “You can?”
“I can try.” For a nanosecond he considered breaking off the approach and ramming the incoming ship. It would allow the Emissary to escape, but what happened when they reached Teuhhopse?
As if he followed OxeroidR’s thoughts, Rocky said, “They’ll never make it without you.”
This was true.
They broke free of the upper atmosphere. On his systems, he tracked the shuttle and the Emissary as they closed on each other. The Emissary dropped its cloak and fired something at the forward enemy ship.
For the first time in a long time, he felt time move both fast and slow.
The Emissary grew larger on his view screen and his tracking screen.
The bay doors retracted, some small debris was sucked out as it decompressed.
He reversed thrust.
The shuttle slowed but not enough.
They were inside the bay.
Heading toward the parked shuttles and the back wall.
He activated a brief side thrust.
There were sounds of metal screeching as they changed direction.
The cargo bay doors came briefly into view.
They slammed into the energy net with a lurch.
He saw Rocky launch toward the view screen.
Caught him just prior to impact.
His body slammed into the restraints as he and the ship jerked forward and then back.
Lights flashed on the comms and alarms sounded.
He tried the comms. “Shuttle is on board.”
6
Everyone looked hammered but the Harparian and Bull. Rocky looked like he was taking a nap on the robot’s shoulder, so she wasn’t sure which camp to put him in.
If there’d been a safe place to be dropped off? Faxton and his team would have begged for it. This was not the adventure they’d signed up for.
“In the past, I could have identified several places they could wait in relative safety,” OxeroidR told them during yet another meeting in City’s ready room. “But I do not believe there is a safe place in this system for any of us.”
And that, City knew, included their destination: Teuhhopse. City sighed silently as she studied each one of Faxton’s team.
Brittani had acquired a black eye during their rendezvous with the shuttle, and she packed up her dresses, her foxtrot mike shoes, and her smooth facade. She looked like someone who had figured out that wearing red on this ship was a bad idea.
Dr. Dauwn, on the other hand, looked like the absent-minded college professor who was late for class. He was someone City hadn’t figured out. She looked at him and saw him, but…he was also out of focus, the edges soft rather than sharp like Britanni.
Faxton. City considered him as she waited for his response to OxeroidR’s risk assessment, he might have her a bit puzzled, too. Bland had mostly given way to grim, but he wasn’t whining anymore. He’d finally realized that none of his people should be here. If he’d lobbied for this, well, he should have remembered that curse.
Be careful what you wish for.
His gaze moved briefly from Brittani to Dauwn and then he said, “We’ll stick with you.”
City nodded. Her eyes felt like grit and she didn’t know if she’d get any bunk time before the next round of FUBAR started. Standard operating procedure, in fact. “All right then. Rita, what’s our damage assessment?”
She and the robot had been checking things out, both through the system and visually. The cameras had sustained impact damage, so Bull had broadcast a view of the damage and Rocky had scouted around with a camera on his little noggin. They’d taken out the port lift to the cargo bay. Luckily, the starboard lift still worked. They’d need it to get to the two shuttles that were left. She offered a silent prayer of gratitude that Bull had only clipped one and completely missed the other.
“There would be more damage if you had not used the energy net,” Bull told her.
Did the robot read minds now?
There is some collateral structural damage to the hull in that section. I would not advise using the comet drive at fullest speed until it can be assessed at a repair facility.
Yeah, they could stop by one of those space stations, oh wait, everyone wanted to shoot them or capture them. No wonder Faxton looked discouraged. He’d come here to make friends. It was not his fault they’d picked a bad neighborhood. At least General Halliwell should understand if—when they made it back. He’d run into trouble his first hop out of their galaxy. At least she hadn’t started a war, at least not yet.
“So we can’t get to Teuhhopse fast.” She’d been hoping to bust a move and surprise the opposition, put them on the hop this time around.
I believe that we can travel at two-thirds speed.
So faster than they’d been going. That was something. She waited for someone to ask why Rita hadn’t used the word “safely” but no one did. They’d all figured out that nothing about this operation was “safety approved.”
“Do we have a plan for when we get there?” Faxton asked.
“We have only begun receiving data from the probe,” Kraye said.
“Have you had a chance to look at it?” City asked. He shook his head. “Well, let’s see it.” They might as well know the worst.
The hologram formed in the center of the table, spinning slowly as it gave them their first look at the region around the planet of Teuhhopse. City inhaled sharply. This was out of date, thanks to the laws of physics, but— “Is that right? No bogeys? Nothing?”
“I also expected to see enemy ships,” Bull said.
She could tell by the movement of his red eyes that he was processing the incoming data. She bit her lip, considering the whys and wherefores of this change in tactics. She did not assume they weren’t going to make a last try at the ship. Or their passenger? She was a scary looking bird, but what else might she be?
“Isn’t it good that there are no ships waiting for us?” Faxton asked.
Poor guy actually looked more cheerful. Dude.
“It’s a different kind of trap,” she said, finally.
“I concur,” Bull said.
Faxton’s face fell. “But…”
“They realized that we were r
eady for them the last time,” Kraye said. “Most likely they have deployed signal buoys that will alert them when we arrive.”
“Well, we can’t plan for their plan until we see what’s involved in getting Lady Yodrirka home.” She used the word deliberately. Home had emotional resonance. It was why they were here and not for a diplomatic score. “Let’s zoom in on the planet surface, Rita.”
The hologram began a slow zoom in on Teuhhopse.
There is a humanoid presence.
Her tone was a bit tour guide, which almost made City grin, except she was too tired to waste her energy on a grin.
Only one of the concentrations of humanoids has indications of technology and possible space capability.
“May we see that concentration?” Bull asked.
Rita brought that region in close. At first City saw mountains, then trees came into view. It took her several seconds to realize the trees and possibly some of the mountains were buildings. It was a sense that they looked wrong, more than a certainty about them. Lights twinkled in a murk that looked like a scene from a Star Wars movie, but these humanoids didn’t live in treehouses. There weren’t bridges and hanging vines. The trees weren’t trees. The mountains nestled near the fake trees looked constructed, too. Too much precision along the edges. The colors were right, forest and mountain, the scene washed with greens, browns, grays, and blues. It was the same color palette as the swans’ world, but these were richer, more vibrant and yet the end result was somewhat the same.
Camouflage. All of it designed to merge with the larger environment. If this was reality? It was possible it was a hologram.
“Can you add heat signatures to the current view?” she asked.
Rita obliged. The dispersion of the signatures looked right. How did the “hiding” work for them? Surely they weren’t the only space capable types with heat signature detection technology? “What do you think, B—OxeroidR?”
“There is deception intended.”
But without a closer look…bang went Faxton’s last hope. She looked at the scary bird.
“Do you know what they are trying to hide?”
Her feathers ruffled as if she shivered. Could birds shiver?
“I have not been inside the tree city.”
City considered pushing back against this non-answer, but she also didn’t want to give Faxton hope. They had no reason to check out the tree city.
“How many heat signatures?” Kraye asked.
Around ten thousand. Not all are humanoid.
Rita tightened the view. The smaller signatures could be pets, or non-human citizens, she mentally amended. She glanced down at Tiger, sitting alertly on her lap. He appeared to be studying the holo as closely as everyone else. Not for the first time, she wished she knew what he was thinking about things, if for no other reason than that he’d been all over the ship, listening and perhaps hearing conversations. He was her version of “if only the walls could talk.”
And there was also the fact that Tiger seemed to be the only species on board that Lady Yodrirka didn’t appear to mind. When City had freed the bird from captivity, Tiger was the only other freed prisoner that had sat with her. It was a puzzle among many puzzles she didn’t have time to be troubled about. A puzzle she hoped didn’t come back to bite her on the butt.
“What about the other humanoid locations?” City asked. She ran a hand absently down the caticorn’s back. His fur was more cat-like than a horse, which she did not mind—though the tail was all horse tail.
The view zoomed out and then closed in on one of the other locations.
This one made no effort to hide, either the people or the rustic nature of it. This was more than structures and heat signatures. They could be seen. Crude huts, smoke fires, and a population that looked like it was straight out of a dystopian movie.
Something in the way they moved bothered her.
“Why the difference?” she murmured, glancing at Kraye.
He stared at the hologram, his body oddly rigid, the color gone from his face. His hands rested on the table looking unnaturally relaxed. As he felt her gaze, his head turned her direction and the look in his eyes killed any questions she might have asked.
Her caticorn jumped from her lap to his and leaned in. Kraye’s hands lifted from the table to rest lightly on the caticorn’s back and one of them trembled briefly before going still once more. Her caticorn purred-neighed and nuzzled against Kraye.
No one else appeared to have noticed the byplay, so she turned her attention back to the hologram. As she watched, some kind of airborne craft buzzed past the crude village. Heads lifted, the people freezing in place until it passed them.
I was a slave. Now I am free.
Resignation. That was what she saw in the way the people moved. This felt important, but she couldn’t figure out why. These people were not why they were here. If not for the previous attacks, they would have tried to make contact with the humanoids in the other city. There was no point in trying to open negotiations with people who weren’t ‘out there.’ But now she wanted to drop off the Harparian and get the heck back to their own region of space.
She looked at Lady Yodrirka as she asked the question. “What about the Harparians? Can we take a look at the mountains?”
The Lady didn’t move, but her stare bored into City.
There are many high peaks, but there is some metal or element in them that resists the probe’s scanners. It did not pick up any heat signatures comparable to the Lady’s from the high peaks. Or the low peaks. Or anywhere.
She changed the image to the mountain peaks, but it was like looking at a smudged photograph. Were they seeing what was there? It felt wrong. All of this felt wrong.
There is one other area of possible concern.
“Let’s see it,” City said, after another quick look at the still rigid Kraye.
The holo zoomed in once more, the dive into an area of old, not quite dead forest made her stomach bump like she was on a roller coaster. The view steadied. Her hands curled into fists.
“What is that?” Faxton asked.
“Webs,” City said, surprised at how calm she sounded. “Spider webs.” She paused. “I hate spiders.”
* * *
Kraye stared at the simulated view of outside this spaceship while he fought through waves of—he did not know. It was worse than any storm he’d experienced on any planet. But this was a storm inside. He did not recognize these feelings or the memories trying to break out of some dark place in his memory.
Memory. How could he remember, with such fear, something he’d never seen before?
Why did the sight of that village fill him with panic? His hand covered his chest. Pain, it…hurt. Grief? Was that what he felt? He lifted a hand, surprised to find his face dry. Inside it felt as if he cried like a child—
The word triggered flashing images, many too fast in their appearance and disappearance to register. But faces. Crying. A child crying, begging…
He would not, he could not—
His door buzzed, and he swung around, relieved at the distraction, but fearing what might be seen on his face. He fought back to a place of calm, but it was not a secure perch. More like a high place in a stormy flood.
“Open,” he said.
The hatch slid back and Caro stood there, her expression concerned.
“Are you all right?”
I am not. I never will be again.
“I am well.” The lie came out stiffly.
She hesitated. “Can I come in?”
He wanted her to come in, to hold him, to pull him out of the storm. He wanted her to leave before she saw into its dark heart—
He nodded.
She entered, and the hatch slid shut.
The silence weighed on him. He wished to turn away from her eyes, but the concern in them held him in place, offered faint hope that his fear and panic did not disgust her. She moved closer and then closer still.
The warmth of her pushed at the s
torm and he twitched.
Her hand lifted. He watched it, strangely detached, as it approached.
She is going to hit me.
The thought startled him out of his detachment. Caro would not hit him—her hand, her palm settled against his cheek and sent warmth, healing warmth out against the flood, the storm. He shuddered.
Her other hand settled on the other cheek, her gaze holding his.
“Did you come from Teuhhopse, Kraye?”
“I do not know,” he almost gasped the words, his head drooping until it rested on her shoulder. Her arms circled him now, held him close.
“Do you want to know?” she asked.
Did he? No! His soul cried out. Inside he shrank from it, huddling like a child. A child. He’d still been small when he’d been brought on board the Najer. Then he had believed he’d exchanged one master for another. As time passed, he’d realized he was not a slave on the Najer. It was a refuge. It took longer for it to become home, or for him to become a member of the crew. What he’d been before his two lives? He hadn’t known there was a gap.
“No.” His voice was quieter. She anchored him here. He turned his face into her neck and inhaled her scent. His hands came up, landing lightly at her waist. She did not pull away. He’d never been this close to a female—but was that true? A distant memory taunted him from behind the storm Caro had pushed back. A soft embrace carrying the scent of the rain and wood. The memories threatened to drive them apart. His hands clenched, then slid around her. He held on. It seemed as if his life depended on it.
He’d felt desire when he looked at her, but right now he huddled into her warmth, clung to the peace she promised if he could just get close enough. He sensed, he did not know how, that if he turned aside now, he would lose more than Caro. She deserved a man who was whole, one brave enough to face the storm.
“But I must know.”
She eased back, her hands resting at his waist, their warmth a lifeline, her gaze steady and kind. She looked weary, and he felt guilt stab through his need for her. He smoothed her hair back, surprised his hand was steady.
“You are weary.”
