You are weary as well.
How very much it annoyed her that he thought her reluctance flowed from weariness. Even if it probably did.
“Rhubreak is coming,” she said, relieved her voice was devoid of annoyance—indeed it lacked all inflection. It was a lesson she’d learned well.
“Thanks,” Coop said, a small crease forming between his brows. “This a good time? I’m not interrupting you, am I?”
Did he sense—her gaze met his and she knew he did.
Interesting.
In a good way? Or a not good way?
Her dragon did not respond.
“I could use a respite. The ship’s repairs are proving to be tedious,” she said, and wondered why that made his brows draw together for an instant. “It is not well pleased with its damage.”
Coop stepped back and looked at the ship. “Not pleased, aye? You make her sound like she’s the boss.”
Arian looked back at the ship, too, and smiled as if he’d said something humorous. Instead of something true.
12
Rhubreak’s claws clicked rhythmically against metal as Coop led them through unfamiliar corridors, many still showing signs of damage. The air felt chilly to her and damage scents lingered as systems worked to scrub the air clean once more.
There was less curiosity in the eyes of Coop’s ship mates that they passed. Some almost seemed suspicious.
They are afraid.
Of us?
They are lost. Their fear needs a focus.
They were the outsiders. Arian felt her outer shell harden, but she kept her chin lifted. They passed a room just as a door opened to let a crewman out, giving her a glimpse of people relaxing in chairs. The open door released rhythmic sounds into the corridor. This was not the same room she’d been in with Coop where they saw the movie, nor was it the canteen. She craned to look in as they passed.
What is that sound?
Music.
It was pleasing, insistent enough that some of the people in the room tapped a foot or nodded their heads in time to the sounds. She was sorry when the door shut the sound in.
Music. Why had her world not had music? What would it have cost the Consortium to soften some of the edges of their lives? This ship was all hard edges. Bosakli had been soft in appearance. Unnatural. Natural. She’d come from a community, had lived in one in the most natural of settings, but it had never felt normal or natural. This ship of metal floating in deep space felt more of both of those things. It was…ironic.
They had a clear chain of command, were required to obey orders, to do as they were told. Their clothing indicated status, just as on Bosakli. There was a hierarchy, differences in function and importance. They were afraid—
But not of each other or those over them. They were afraid because they were lost, but this challenge drew them together, not apart. They trusted each other. And themselves.
Trust.
She understood it better now but did not understand how to acquire or give it.
As they paused at an entry point of some kind, Arian touched the wall with her fingertips, relieved to feel the regular pulse of most of the engines far below. At the moment, it seemed the engines were more accepting than the people. She had felt—hoped—the Chief was a new friend. He was busy, she told herself. There was so much still to do.
The events following the anomaly impact seemed like a strange dream now. Had she helped them because she wanted to, or because she’d been conditioned to serve? That was the question she kept asking herself. Was it delusional to think it had been a choice? She’d changed even before meeting Coop. A kind of blooming had happened inside her head. The lights under her skin appeared more and more, too. The bump to her head, the wound on her temple were almost gone. All the injuries, the old scars from her work on the farm, were also gone. Erased as if they’d never been. How was this possible?
As strange as it all was, it also felt…natural…like blood returning to a limb after it had been cramped too long in the wrong position. Since walking onto her ship, or the ship, it felt like waking up from a long sleep. When she’d touched the controls deep in the Boyington, she’d “seen” what was wrong with the engines and how to fix them, like a movie inside her head. She still lacked the conscious knowledge to understand all she’d seen, but she…remembered.
How could she remember something that had never happened to her?
The return to her ship, the downward slide of emotion from the high caused by the danger had left her restless and frustrated. The smaller issues, the smaller engines on her ship bored her. Or—did she want her ship to be repaired? If she did, would it leave? Would she have to leave with it?
She did not want to go.
She faced this, though it terrified her to once more be at the mercy of others. Why had they been summoned by Coop’s Colonel? Did he fear—
Did we cause the anomaly?
I do not believe so.
Can we prove we did not?
She did not wish to get booted out into space by Coop’s commander.
I will do what I can to avoid that outcome.
Rhubreak did not point out that they would not have this problem, nor would they be in this fix, if not for her. He did not need to emphasize this obvious point. He was the bigger…dragon. Her lips twitched and her gaze intersected with Coop’s. He arched a brow and gave her a reassuring smile. She had smiled more, been more relaxed around him, but now she felt uneasy. She slowed her breathing, trying to dive deeper into her safe place.
They stopped in front of the lift, the small box that lifted one up or down. It’s doors slid back, allowing two people to exit, then Coop ushered them inside. She rested a hand on the wall, waiting for that odd sensation in her middle as Coop pushed the button and the lift began to rise.
“Beats climbing, doesn’t it?” Coop said with a grin. “Artificial gravity is clingy.”
She managed a chuckle. “I believe it would have increased our difficulty had it gone offline, too.”
He made a face that could have been agreement. Arian noted signs of tension around his eyes and mouth, and he flexed his fingers as if something bothered him.
Her muscles tightened, and she struggled to keep her breathing even. Then she wondered why she tried so hard when these people didn’t seem to notice or care? Or when Coop seemed able to sense her feelings. Was there some clue in the question? Was it possible that hiding how she felt created a barrier with these people?
It does make it harder for them to trust you, to relate to you.
It made a certain sense, she decided, recalling how the diplomat had tried to mirror her greeting. She took a deeper breath and tried to float free of her inner cage of calm. She shivered. The air felt cold out of that safe place. She flexed her fingers twice. Glanced down, but no sparks appeared under the skin this time.
“This is a fine ship.” She spread her palms on the metal wall. It was easier to smile naturally when she was connected to the engines.
“She took a beating,” Coop said, with a wry grin. “But she’s still flying.”
This was not the first time he’d called a ship “she.” It was the first time it was a ship named after a brave man. Why?
Ask him.
What if he does not answer?
Then you will be where you are right now.
The logic of this could not be disputed, so she cleared her throat and asked. Coop looked both surprised and amused.
The movement of the lift stopped, and the door slid open. People waited for them to exit before boarding the lift, the door sliding closed once more.
“Ships are always she, always have been, no matter who they are named after.” He kind of glanced around, then grinned before he said, “I think it’s because ships are more like women than men.”
His last comment had the feel of a confession but did not provide clarity. Did he believe males and females were different? The Consortium claimed there was no difference, but men had more freedom of mo
vement and more choice in pact bonding. She followed Coop down the corridor until he punched in the code to open a door.
Inside her gaze was drawn past a seating area to the view beyond that gave her a glimpse of the outer ship. She wished she could go look out, but the Colonel stood there, his brooding frustration a live thing in the room as he turned to offer a courteous sounding greeting belied by his expression. He indicated the seating area with a sweep of one hand, then crossed to a seat opposite them. He did not desire this meeting, so why were they here?
Needs must when the devil drives.
She had to bite back a chuckle as Rhubreak scrambled onto one of the seats. She took the seat next to him, noting that Coop and his Colonel sank into the two facing them. The low table was not a large divide, but she sensed it could be. Rhubreak’s snout turned toward the Colonel, and his beard flared black for several seconds as if he too felt this divide.
A silence formed in the space between them, an itchy silence that made her want to shift in her seat. Her first instinct was for stillness—which she was trying to change, she reminded herself. So she gave into the need and adjusted her position in a small way. This brought the Colonel’s razor gaze to her. It took a struggle to let him see her worry and fear.
His expression softened very slightly. “Thank you for your assistance with our engines,” he said, finally.
“I am sorry I could not get them all running.”
“Chief says you worked a miracle.” Suspicion flared in his eyes. “I guess you’ve worked on engines like ours before.”
The truth shall make you free. “I have not.” His gaze darkened. How did she explain something she did not understand? Her smile felt crooked. “I do not know why or how. I just do.”
“Rhubreak called you an engine whisperer,” Coop said.
Arian did not know what this meant, but it seemed the Colonel did, because nodded.
“Whatever you did, Chief would like to hire you for his crew.”
“It would be my honor to assist in any way I can.”
The Colonel nodded, but he did not accept her offer.
“There might be another way you can…help.” He brought the word out very reluctantly, but this time he looked at Rhubreak before he looked at her.
“If we can…” Arian stopped, sensing caution from Rhubreak.
“Your scanners seem to see further than ours.” He hesitated, then added, “You saw the pirates before we did.”
Arian was puzzled. “We continue to share our scan data with your scientists.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t understand.”
The Colonel glanced at Coop, and she sensed a passing of the problem to him.
“It’s not just scan data we’re interested in. We wondered if you had information in your databanks about this system?” Coop asked, angling so he could look at both of them.
Arian’s fingers moved as if on keys, something they seemed to do when presented with a question, but the knowledge of what to do did not come to the front of her mind this time. She turned to Rhubreak and arched a brow.
His snout moved from her to Coop and then finally to the Colonel.
It is possible there is further information in the databanks.
There was a hint of resignation in the admission.
“You haven’t looked? Surely that is the first thing you’d do,” Coop said. He glanced at his Colonel and repeated what Rhubreak had said.
Rhubreak’s beard flared black, then subsided. The databanks are not a…Google search. They are designed to assist the ship’s purpose.
Now she sensed frustration from Rhubreak. She looked curiously at him.
“What is your ship’s purpose,” the Colonel asked, with a slight frown.
Collection.
Arian’s stomach tightened at this word, but it did not seem to trouble Coop when he shared this with the Colonel.
The Colonel’s frown deepened. “But surely, at some point, you would need access to the research information the ship collected?”
That process occurs at the end of the collection.
She frowned. Did that mean he wasn’t done? Or that his mission wasn’t done until he returned to where he’d come from?
“Have you tried to find the information?” Coop persisted.
I have tried.
This was new information to Arian.
So far without success. The ship was designed for me to operate so I can manipulate some systems, but I am a conductor, the Companion only. I believe, I hope there is a protocol for when something goes wrong. Once the ship is repaired, it may try to repair the…aberration.
“Aberration?” Coop seemed startled by this word.
The course alternation. I believe the ship would see the anomaly transits as aberrations. But I do not know this for certain. It is not part of my, er, brief.
“You’ve never gone off course before?” the Colonel asked, incredulously.
Arian looked toward the window and wished she could escape. Rhubreak shook his head slowly to one side, then the other.
The Colonel frowned, processing this exchange. “I thought you were the pilot,” he said, looking at Arian.
“I am the pilot,” she said. “I sent it off course.”
The Colonel’s gaze narrowed sharply. “Why?”
She stared at him, her eyes wide and dry. This man would know if she lied, but the truth, she did not think it would make her free. In any case, it was stuck in her throat.
“Collection,” the Colonel said slowly. “What does it collect?”
Arian licked her lips. “It collected me.”
* * *
Pappy stiffened, his gaze tracking to the dragon. Coop didn’t even dare tug at the neck of his uniform shirt.
“It collected you? Why?”
“I do not know.”
Arian had been different, less closed, but now she slammed shut like a door caught by a gust of cold wind.
She glanced at Coop. “You said the truth would make me free. I speak the truth. I do not know. Does that make me free?”
“Who does know?” Pappy cut in.
Arian looked at the dragon.
I don’t have access to that information either.
Coop gave a slight shake of his head for the Pappy’s benefit.
“Is she a criminal?”
No.
Coop did not like the relief he felt. He shook his head again.
“If you don’t know why you collected her, how do you know she’s not a criminal?” Pappy snapped.
Rhubreak felt startled, perhaps concerned—Coop wasn’t certain.
“He did not capture me,” Arian said. “I willingly boarded the ship at his…invitation.”
Pappy studied her for a long moment, then turned to Rhubreak. “Why did you…invite her aboard?”
I was sent.
“Because?” Pappy prompted.
That information is not need-to-know.
Pappy scowled a bit. “Not exactly proof she’s not a criminal, but,” his shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, “you don’t strike me as a bounty hunter or cop.”
Coop hid a grin with his hand and a cough.
“He did not try to stop me when I declined the cold sleep,” Arian offered. “Nor has he complained that I drove us into the ditch.”
Pappy looked a bit something. “Ditch?”
“I was…I am a farm laborer. I said I had an affinity for engines. This is true. I was very young when I drove my first machine into a ditch.”
Pappy’s jaw might have gone a bit slack before he caught himself. “A farm laborer. And a pilot?”
She shrugged. “I have always pushed my…boundaries.”
Which was probably why someone wanted to collect her. He could tell Pappy had figured that out, too. Would that someone try to find her? Oh yeah. And whoever it was would want their ship back, too.
“Had I not diverted our ship—”
“You wouldn’t have come through the w
ormhole, and we’d still be here,” Coop put in, “with our engines down.”
A tinge of color returned to her cheeks.
He could see Pappy didn’t entirely agree. The Chief might have got them up eventually. But at what cost? Getting their power online sooner rather than later had saved lives for sure.
“How do we know you didn’t cause the wormhole?” Pappy asked the question. Coop wasn’t surprised by that or that it drove the color from her cheeks again.
“I don’t think we did.” She didn’t look away, which Coop knew, wasn’t easy when Pappy was on one. “But I don’t…know.” Her lips twitched. “I had just finished scanning when we spotted the pirates and,” she stopped to consider, “yes, I was doing deep scans when it opened.”
“Could those scans have caused it to open?”
Instead of defensive, she looked intrigued by the idea. “The anomaly did increase in size when it interacted with some of the barrage weapons fire…but it seems unlikely. I do not believe we emitted sufficient energy to cause it to form in the first place.”
“Would you be willing to let our engineers and scientists examine your ship?”
Her shoulders straightened as if bracing for incoming.
“Yes.”
Pappy stared at her for what felt like a long time, before nodding slowly. “Okay. When we have the resources available, we’ll send them down.” He relaxed some. “We are off track from the big question and the reason we asked you here.”
Now she appeared puzzled. “The real reason?”
Coop turned to the dragon. “You’ve been to Earth. Or you know about it.”
The dragon’s snout moved in a way that could be agreement.
“So it’s possible that the location of Earth is buried in your non-Google database?”
Again, the non-committal something.
“We can’t get home unless we know where we are. And where here is from Earth. Can you answer those two questions?” Pappy asked, looking right at the dragon.
If I can determine where we are, if I can get useful access to the database, it might be possible to fix Earth’s location and plot a course.
Found Girl Page 10
