Found Girl

by Pauline Baird Jones

  He glanced up, and she realized the bay was most likely monitored. A good thing she had not puckered for him. What had they thought of her touching this ship?

  Her cheeks warmed. She looked at the ship instead of at him. “I am well,” she said. “It looks a most serviceable craft.” She touched the side, but lightly this time.

  “She’s not a Dauntless, but she’ll get us where we want to go.”

  She could do more than that, Arian thought, amused. “I am sure she will.” She flashed a smile at him, inviting him in on the faint joke of calling this shuttle a she. He gave her a quick grin.

  “The Colonel isn’t thrilled about us using it for this mission, but, well, it’s his call.”

  Arian looked at him, wondering what he had chosen not to say. “If the meeting does not go well, then it could be lost.” It amazed her how calm she sounded, how calm she felt. Somehow she knew she’d faced death before. She did not fear what she’d already—she refused to finish this thought. It was a field too far.

  “Yeah,” Coop agreed, his gaze still on the craft.

  Despite his agreement, she did not think this was the reason for the Colonel’s reluctance. He was most likely concerned about the technology that might be lost. How had they secured this craft? She might not know where or how she had encountered this ship, but she knew it was not here, that these people had not been around. The sea…in her mind she saw the waves and hovering above it were two moons…

  She took a breath to steady her thoughts and asked, “How does she handle?” adding to herself, for you?

  “She’s a bus, not a fighter.”

  She opened her mouth to protest this, then closed it again. She could not explain how she knew this was not so. And she did not know. She only felt she knew. For several seconds, disorientation threatened, her brain grappling with what was true and what was not. Both realities went once more out of focus…

  “You ready to roll?” Coop asked.

  His voice called her back from the edge. Thankful he had not noticed, she followed him up the ramp, stopping just inside. She needed to be here, to be now. She needed to keep her promise.

  It was as she…remembered. Even the colors were the same. The spiral threatened again. She took a steadying breath. “Where do you wish me to seat myself?” She badly needed to sit down. She avoided looking at the cockpit, her fingers curling into her palms at the sight of controls she knew. She felt the controls, felt the pressure required to manipulate them, knew how this ship would respond…

  She couldn’t look at the co-pilot’s station, not here and now. If she saw…her mind would splinter…

  “Rhubreak seems to think you should plant yourself here at the rear station,” Coop said, gesturing to the front seat on the left, just behind the cockpit.

  The alien course corrections will need to be translated.

  Arian saw her dragon now, in the seat next to the one Coop wished her to take. She had no sense that he’d heard her thoughts or seen her lapse into that other place. But she avoided looking at him as she slipped past him and sank into the seat. Her fingers shook when she uncurled them and placed them on the controls. She did not allow herself to actually push anything. Not yet. The one thing she had learned on Bosakli was patience.

  She took two calming breaths before asking, “Will there be others on the mission?”

  “Yeah. Where are they?” Coop checked through his headset, as he headed toward the cockpit, dropping into the pilot’s position. “They’re incoming. Gonna fire her up.”

  Outside there was the sound of voices, footsteps approaching as the engines began to hum up through the soles of her borrowed boots. She pulled her hands back and shifted so she could observe who entered.

  Of course, Dr. Derwent was their first contact expert. She smiled a little at the memory of his first contact efforts. Perhaps it was because he’d not been the first to have contact with her that it had not gone well. Dr. Gessner…it took her a minute to pull up his name. He’d visited her ship a couple of times. Had seemed more interested in Rhubreak than the technology, she recalled. Two soldiers behind them—too similar in aspect and build for her to tell them apart—and Tiger, Coop’s wingman. He slanted a grin her direction, tapped a finger against his temple in a small salute, before joining Coop. It was almost a relief when he dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. The…apparition she could not quite see vanished like smoke. Why did she fear and long to see the face in her memory?

  Both doctors stopped, looking irresolute, in the center aisle. Were they troubled that she and Rhubreak were going?

  “Park it, docs,” Tiger said.

  When they didn’t, he tapped on Coop’s arm. He turned, glanced from the doctors to Arian and said, “Arian needs to translate the instructions from the birds.”

  Ah, so it was the position they coveted. She could not blame them. She was the stranger, the alien among them.

  Neither looked happy, but they did settle into the seats across from her. Dr. Gessner gripped his knees as if he needed a place for his hands if he could not have the controls. The two soldiers took seats behind the doctors, and the hatch began to close. As it sealed, low lighting came on along the floor and at seat height.

  “Strap in, people,” Coop said. He tapped communications. “Home plate, this is Alpha flight ready and waiting for the aliens to transmit course data.”

  Arian pulled the straps across her chest and secured them in the lock. These would hold much better than the ones that had failed on her ship. Only when she was secure did she allow herself to activate her station, her first action, opening a communications channel so they could receive transit instructions from the aliens. Then, with a careful glance sideways to make sure she was unobserved, she started exploring the ship’s memory and databanks.

  Of course, she remembered those weapons, and there was cloaking technology. She studied the settings. They’d found that the cloak could do more than just hide the ship. It could also project a weapons-free profile. It would not have much of a chance against the four ships out there, but the element of surprise could give the Boyington time. That was just in the first and second layers. She dived deeper, but could see no sign that they had reached this level of penetration into the systems. That was interesting. While the time and date stamps were not familiar, there were many of them.

  As she explored, part of her was amazed at how natural it felt, how familiar. She knew this ship, but did she know this ship? Could there be a record of her somewhere in its memory banks? Did she know what this record would look like?

  She flexed her hands, turning them over for study. Her hands had always been her conduit to knowledge. She’d used them to breach Consortium databanks while in her learning environment. Had hacked in to adjust her personal data when at various times. Had used them to learn machines…but she’d not used them to find herself. And if she did? What then? What would it mean? The timing was off. She needed to focus on the mission, but what if this was her only chance?

  Longing and obligation waged a brief, almost bitter battle inside her head but before a winner could be declared, her screen flashed a warning of an incoming message. She fire-walled the message and began to decode it with Rhubreak’s assistance. There was regret, but there was also relief. Perhaps it was better not to know…

  “We have our transit data from the aliens,” she said, “I am sending it to your station, Captain.”

  “We have our transit instructions, home plate,” Coop said into his radio. “Are we go, or no-go?”

  “Alpha flight, you have a go. I repeat the mission is a go,” a voice intoned over the intercom.

  Tiger grinned. “Kick the tires and light the fires, Banshee. Let’s go meet us some aliens.”

  16

  The shuttle rose, then Coop accelerated through the containment shield and into deep space. Once clear of the Boyington, he banked for their intercept with the small flotilla of alien craft that would escort them to the planet. Wasn’t in his Dauntless
, but flying was flying, and at least it wasn’t a sim.

  Their course threaded them through an area between two of the big mothers positioned around the Boyington. His gut twitched like Derwent’s eye was twitching right now, but nothing he could do about it. His job was to fly right and not talk unless absolutely necessary. Couldn’t say Pappy didn’t know him. Their scans claimed the alien ships were smaller than the Boyington, but from where he sat, these two looked plenty big enough to swat the shuttle into next week without much trouble. Times four, the ships would give the Boyington some trouble, too, if the aliens decided to bump heads with them.

  He steered the shuttle along the length of the two big ships, noting what were probably weapons ports. All the ships were, according to scans, heavily armed. Tiger gave a low whistle but didn’t say anything, his attention on making sure they stayed on course and could respond if they suddenly came under attack.

  As they tracked along, he wondered about the ships and the neighborhood? Just how dangerous was it? Did they need the big ships or did they like having them? Civilizations didn’t necessarily stop when they had enough weapons. There was always that impulse to do it better and better.

  Might not be about the normal galactic neighborhood. Could be the wormhole. How often did it drop ships into the system? Based on the pirates that had been shooting at them, probably a good idea to keep a fleet positioned here. But where were the space going activities—if there was enough traffic to justify four big ships? Sure as hotel hadn’t been any sign of anything around the planets.

  He might have tensed a bit until they pulled clear of the big ships. He glanced up, using the rear viewer to check their passengers for signs of stress. Pity they couldn’t have brought more Marines since it looked like the mission was going dirtside. Not Pappy’s fault. The aliens had limited the delegation numbers. Sucked to be in the coyote position, howling at the out-of-reach moon—or for their home system. So eight people max and only five allowed to leave when they were alien planet dirt side.

  Tiger, his co-pilot, and the Marines would remain onboard, but with their radios on box, so that Tiger could monitor the meeting. Assuming that was possible. Aliens could have blocking technology. Their cloaking tech was FM—f-ing magic—which meant a whole lotta unknown going into this meet with, hopefully, their new best friends.

  So who did get to leave the ship? Derwent was the first contact dude, a role that was also turning out to be the hot seat. Gessner was the closest they had to a bird expert. Coop wouldn’t call either man excited at this opportunity to excel. If Gessner gripped his knees any harder, he wouldn’t be able to stand up when the time came.

  He studied his two Marines. Big, square, tough, and had probably forgotten how to have expressions. Wished they could be at their back when the time came. At least they’d be in on the extraction if things went south. Assuming there was anything to extract.

  The dragon? No way to tell if he was fazed by the upcoming meeting. He always looked the same. Right now he looked asleep.

  Arian. As glad as he was to have eyes on her—and he wished that included lips on her—he would have been happier if she missed this party. Strong odds it was gonna be a Charlie Foxtrot with all of them playing the part of red shirt.

  Pappy, well, he hadn’t been happy about sending any of them. But they needed this meet, needed these aliens way more than the aliens needed them. Which was not at all. Unless it was as an entrée.

  He’d have left Tiger on mother, too, if he could have. He’d never been able to shake him off, he thought with a grin. This wasn’t his first rodeo as Coop’s wing man, he just hoped it wouldn’t be their last.

  He half shook his head. They were an odd group. The geeks, the soldiers, and the dragon. He studied Arian again. Which group did she belong to? In ABU’s she looked like a soldier, but her expression was all geek. Either way, she’d fit in until she started talking bird, assuming that she got the chance to talk.

  His gut was tight, but not twitching. Just uneasy like.

  The dragon, well, he didn’t seem to be a geek, just the odd dragon out. Another check for the weird box on this mission, and he didn’t mind admitting his fun meter was fully pegged.

  The dangerously interesting Doc Clementyne had once told him it was her mantra in life to expect the unexpected. Had she expected to end up married to an alien—a Garradian? And what would she think of this setup? Wouldn’t have minded having her along for this one, just because she was known for pulling the impossible out of her back pocket. They could use an expert in impossible right now.

  He activated his comm. “Home plate, this is Alpha Flight. I have eyes on our escort. Will update when we have contact.”

  “God speed, Alpha Flight.” It was Pappy’s calm voice over the com.

  For some reason, that made him think about the look on the old man’s face when he asked the dragon if he could speak “bird.” That would go under the heading of things he never thought he’d hear from his CO.

  It was unusual for me, as well.

  He glanced at the rear view camera in time to see Arian’s lips twitch, but she kept her gaze on the monitoring equipment. Coop shifted uneasily, wondering how much of his musing had been overheard by either of them?

  I am, um, only looping her into information relevant to her tasks.

  So we’re talking—thinking—through you?

  That is correct.

  He wondered what the dragon was filtering out from Arian’s end, then felt guilty about thinking it.

  “How long until our intercept?” he asked.

  “Thirty of your minutes,” she said, after a pause.

  “When we hookup, then what?” he asked, wondering why this hadn’t come up before. “Do we all jump together?”

  “According to them, we move too slow. They will give us an assist.” Arian met his gaze in the mirror. Something was oddly reassuring in her gaze.

  “An assist?” Derwent looked more alarmed, something Coop would have bet was not possible.

  Arian looked at him. “They have a, well, they call it a jump sling. I believe. We’ll ride in that. We should be planetside in under an earth hour if our translation is correct.”

  It is.

  Dragon was getting a bit cocky. Hoped it wasn’t over confidence. “Did they send a dinner menu?” All he got was a mental chuckle and a choke from Arian.

  “No, but they did send an adjusted approach vector. Sending it to your station,” she said.

  Coop grinned. She was starting to sound military. He did like a girl in uniform. And hoped he’d get a chance to—he stopped the thought. Just in case she was listening.

  “We’re closing on our bogeys,” Tiger said. “I mean our friendlies.”

  The HUD popped up, giving Coop a readout on their birds’ specs. Birds being a spot on description. The ships looked like birds. If he had to pick one, it would be the gannet. He’d seen some dive bombing in Newfoundland. Not something a guy forgot. The aerodynamic sweep of the body and the wings were in the dive position. He felt the itch to try one out. Strung between the six ships was what appeared to be a golden net. The HUD read it as energy, not an actual net. Still looked like a net.

  “I’m gonna make a wild guess that I’m supposed to fly into that?”

  “That’s both cool and some serious pucker factor,” Tiger said.

  “Begin deceleration maneuver now,” Arian said. “Half speed,” she added before he could ask. “Counting down to quarter speed…cut engines.”

  Coop felt the loss of momentum and didn’t like it as they tracked toward the net. Now he knew how a fish felt. The nose of the shuttle made contact with the energy field. At first, it felt like nothing, then there was a jerk. Before reverse momentum became a problem, the energy net appeared to wrap around the shuttle.

  “Brace for the jump,” Arian said.

  “Home plate, we have contact with our escort and are preparing for assisted hyperjump.”

  “Roger that, Alpha Flight. Good
luck.”

  A bright flash of light. A yank that felt like it came from his belly button. And they were along for the ride.

  17

  They couldn’t have actual eyes on anything during a jump. Without the protective panel, the screen would shatter from the stress of even a brief hypertransit. So the shuttle’s system rendered their view as a series of elongated gold lines flowing past, a view that made Coop feel a bit queasy. He glanced at the camera, checking on his passengers. The two geeks looked a bit green, the Marines stoic. Arian looked calm, her attention on her station. The dragon shifted position in the seat as if he was nervous.

  Would that be so surprising?

  Well, you haven’t done a whole lot of expressing since we met, Coop pointed out. He’d assumed the dragon couldn’t feel nervous.

  My hide is rather resistant to expression. That does not mean I do not get nervous.

  Sorry. He’d never been good at PC. Which was probably why Pappy had told him not to flap his lips with the aliens.

  And yet here you are…

  Coop hid a grin. Technically not flapping anything.

  The dragon angled his head as if acknowledging the hit.

  “How are we doing?” Coop asked Tiger.

  “Fine so far. Structural integrity is well into acceptable range. Radiation levels are low. Cloak is holding at one hundred percent.”

  “Cloak?” Derwent straightened. “But…”

  “Not that kind of cloak, doc,” Coop reassured him. “They can see us. Just keeping a little something back in case things don’t go well.”

  Derwent glanced around. “That’s why we are using the Garradian shuttle. But—”

  Tiger cut in, “If things go well, they’ll never know. If they don’t, you’ll be glad we have it.”

  Talk about flapping lips. Had Derwent missed the memo about the top secret classification of all things Garradian? Coop gave him a look, and Derwent subsided with a look of chagrin.

  The systems started pinging. “We’re coming out of the jump.” He tensed because, well, who knew what would be on the other side. “Be ready,” he told Tiger, his voice pitched only for him.