by Sharon Lee
Theo sighed quietly. Kara’d given that opinion before. Of course, Kara was Liaden and had it in her bones that a delm’s word was First Orders. She was having a hard time accommodating herself to Theo’s assertion that Val Con was not—nor Miri, either—Theo’s delm. Brother, yes, by reason of sharing a father—and of all the things she had never expected to have to take care of in her life, it was a brother…
Which was neither here nor there at the moment, and maybe not at all, her brother being…lifemated, like Liadens said, to a competent and sensible woman who was, so far as Theo had observed, entirely capable of keeping him from making any…particularly…bad decisions.
Mostly.
“Must we bring Spiral Dance aboard Bechimo?” asked Win Ton, the fourth breathing member of the crew, dragging them back to the original topic of discussion. “The air is good; the ship is spaceworthy. Surely, we can conduct what explorations the captain finds necessary on her own decks.”
“If she phases with one of us on board…” Kara began.
Joyita cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to his image in Screen Six.
“There is no reason to worry about an unexpected phase to Jump,” he said—carefully, Theo thought. “Bechimo can tether Spiral Dance. Can you not, Bechimo?”
There was a pause, as if Bechimo was considering denying the possibility, or arguing against the risk of it, which was his favorite reason not to do a thing. When he answered, though, he sounded calm, maybe even a little too calm, at least to Theo’s trained ear.
“Yes, Joyita,” he said, “that is certainly possible. The risk to our crew will therefore be minimized.”
Theo nodded, trying to decide if she was more amazed by Joyita putting Bechimo on the spot, or by Bechimo actually agreeing to something so risky as a—
“Captain, may Engineering speak?” Kara being Engineering, she stood up at her station, putting Hevelin firmly in her chair, and giving his rusty shoulder a meaningful pat.
“The captain hears Engineering,” Theo said, matching Kara formal for formal. “Concerns?”
“If the captain pleases. I had myself thought that a tether might be the best solution. I have researched the most commonly used tether-and-tube combinations and run simulations…”
She leaned to her board, touched a button. The screen just below center in the main array brightened, displaying a diagrammed Bechimo, and a single blue line, tagged “tight tether,” and another line labeled “access tube” connected from Bechimo to a diagram of Spiral Dance.
“The tether-and-tube solution is very workable in stable situations, such as a designated shipyard or repair facility, where traffic is controlled, and random things—” there was a bit of irritation there, Theo thought. Kara did not approve of the so-called flotsam with which this bit of “safe space” was afflicted—
“—phasing in without warning, from all directions at once, are not an issue. We cannot control our space; it is not—forgive me, Bechimo—in the context of a tether-and-tube scenario—safe. The flotsam has been getting larger…”
…all eyes went to the screen in which Spiral Dance, their latest bit of flotsam, lay quiescent, attached to Bechimo by an access tube.
“…and we may, therefore, need to move swiftly, or even Jump, in order to avoid a collision. In that situation, if we have crew aboard Spiral Dance, or in the tube, transiting…”
The diagram in the low center screen twisted, the blue line showing kinks and corkscrews, hazard indicators blooming in alarming shades of yellow, orange, and red.
“Any pitch and yaw above microgrades will put a tremendous strain on the tube—it’s meant to be latched, for long-term use,” Kara said. “Even in circumstances much less extreme than a sudden need for evasive action, we might exceed the tube’s stretch limit…”
Theo blinked. The sim clearly showed that overstretching the tube’s limits could result in tearing, or in a rebound, in which scenario Spiral Dance might actually collide—forcefully—with Bechimo.
“That situation is avoidable,” Joyita said.
Kara nodded at him.
“Indeed. We might bring Spiral Dance into partnership with us; lock access hatches, and become one environment…”
“No,” said Bechimo, not at all loudly, but with finality.
“Why not?” Theo asked.
“While Kara’s solution solves the tube-stress problem, it does not solve the other problem she has identified. If we need to move quickly, the single latch-point is an unacceptable vulnerability—for us and for the other vessel.”
“I understand,” Theo said, the math running through her head like a melody. Whether it was her own math, or information Bechimo was feeding her through their bonding interface, wasn’t important. What was important was that she saw a third solution—that provided access, stability and maneuverability.
“We’re a tradeship,” she said.
Kara blinked.
“Yes?” she said politely.
There was a moment of silence while the crew carefully didn’t look at each other in blank puzzlement. Theo settled back in her chair and waited to see who would work it out first.
Scouts in general specialized in thinking quickly, and Win Ton had been trained as a Scout, so it wasn’t a big surprise that he got there ahead of Clarence, though just barely, judging by the arrested expression on her copilot’s face.
“We are, indeed, a tradeship,” Win Ton said, turning his chair to face Theo. He inclined his head. “Therefore, we have pod mounts.”
Kara blinked—and dove for her board, calling up inventory.
“Yes!” she said, her eyes on the screen. “We have enough hardware on hand to do it! We can mount Spiral Dance as a pod. If we are in danger, we may move as one unit; if we must, we can jettison. Else, we can maintain the tube, shorter, for better control…”
She sat down, narrowly missing Hevelin, who obligingly climbed onto the arm of her chair.
“It will require modifying a pod mount, but it is well within our capabilities. Win Ton and I have the experience to do this, Theo.”
Theo looked to Win Ton, who bowed lightly.
“I am pleased to assist Kara,” he said. “I have every confidence that we can accomplish this task quickly.”
Theo next looked to Clarence, who had been a Juntavas Boss before his retirement and subsequent hiring on as copilot on Bechimo. Clarence had a lot of practical experience, and he wasn’t shy about pointing out flaws in plans involving their lives. He was a good deal readier to take risks than Bechimo was, but Theo was beginning to think that could be said of most people.
Clarence, now—was nodding.
“I like it. If it’s mounted as a pod, locked in and secure—it’s us. Like Kara said, we can maneuver how and when we need, or drop it, if we gotta.” He nodded again, and grinned.
“Right you are, there, Captain. We’re a tradeship.”
Into the silence that followed this came a pleased mumble of murbles from Hevelin. A chuckle went round the crew and Theo felt Bechimo’s tension fade.
“Yes,” he said. “Pod mounting and close-tube access will solve all difficulties.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do!” Theo stood up, saluting them all, with a special, small bow to Hevelin.
“Okay, people. Let’s get to it. Kara and Win Ton—how long to modify the mount and seat our new pod?”
Kara looked to Win Ton, who moved his shoulders.
“A long-shift ought to see it done. The most difficult part will be matching mounts and tie-downs.”
“Which is always the most difficult part of securing a pod,” Kara said. “I concur, Theo; both of us, working one long-shift will see the work done. If Win Ton is able, and with the captain’s permission, we may begin now.”
There was a small silence. Theo wasn’t sure if she actually saw Win Ton frown, or if she felt the change in his heart rate through the link with Bechimo, and understood his distress. Whatever it was, it was gone as soon as she was aware o
f it, and Win Ton was rising, face smooth and shoulders relaxed.
“Soonest begun, soonest done,” he said easily. “I am perfectly able.”
“Good, then—with the captain’s permission?”
“Go to it,” Theo said, with a nod.
They left, Hevelin settling back into Kara’s chair with a sigh.
Theo echoed him, lightly.
“The Scout’s still a little touchy about his recuperation,” Clarence commented from his station.
Theo nodded. Win Ton’s injuries had been…extreme. It only made sense that a complete recuperation would take time. He knew that, she was pretty sure—knew it academically. But Win Ton was a pilot—more than that; he was a Scout pilot, his reactions fast and finely honed. It was natural he’d worry about…never fully regaining his skills.
“He’s pushing himself a little,” she said to Clarence. “He’s smart enough not to push himself too much.”
She hoped.
“That’s right,” Clarence said. “My shift then, Captain?”
She glanced at the clock.
“Your shift, Copilot; I’m going to get some sleep. Call me if we get a cruise liner coming through.”
He grinned.
“Will do.”
CHAPTER TWO
Bechimo
Wyrd Space
The process of mounting the Spiral Dance as a pod went smoothly, the balancing with the pods they already carried made much easier than it might’ve been, given Bechimo’s active assistance.
“Good work,” Theo said, deciding to ignore the fact that Win Ton was looking somewhat pale. He was standing tall and breathing well, and if his heart rate was accelerated, well—so was Kara’s.
“Off-shift, now, Pilots; get some rest. When you come back on duty, we’ll figure out a schedule for sweeping Spiral Dance.”
“Yes,” said Win Ton.
“Yes, Theo,” said Kara.
Neither one dawdled leaving the bridge.
Theo settled into her chair, considering the screens and the flotsam log. Nothing new had appeared since Spiral Dance, which was…interesting.
“Wonder if we broke it?”
“Broke what?” Joyita asked from his screen.
“Whatever it is that’s sending flotsam through,” Theo murmured.
“There have previously been long periods when no flotsam has appeared in this location,” Bechimo said. “It is possible that…manifestations are cyclic.”
“And we just happened to be here at a peak time?”
At a peak time, she added to herself, that included the arrival of a spaceship that had—probably—belonged to her great-great-et-cetera-grandmother, on her father’s side?
On the Clan Korval side, that was; a family that…acknowledged a relationship with what they call “the luck,” which her cousin Anthora had said ran roughly around those of Korval.
And especially around Theo Waitley, Daav yos’Phelium’s daughter.
…which brought to mind another of Spiral Dance’s puzzles.
“Joyita, is the analysis of that tree complete?”
“Theo,” said Joyita, “it is. We have been monitoring the sensors Scout yo’Vala placed during his exploratory boarding of Spiral Dance. The tree appears vigorous—this is in comparison to trees in general, from records. It tests negative for airborne toxins or allergens; in fact, it may be said to be beneficial, as its oxygen exchange rate is quite high.”
“Have to watch we don’t get drunk,” Theo murmured.
“I will, of course, be monitoring all life support systems and continuously testing the environment as I do now,” Bechimo said, sounding a little miffed. “The crew will be in no danger.”
“Of course not,” she said soothingly. “It was a joke.”
“Has there been any sign of the tree doing anything?” she asked Joyita. “Interacting with the ship? Making”—she waved her hands in a deliberately meaningless gesture—“communication efforts?”
“You wonder if the tree is…sentient?” Joyita sounded curious, but not like he was also curious about her mental health.
Of course, Joyita and Bechimo would have records of Clan Korval’s Tree, which Father claimed to be a biochemist. It had, in fact, made her welcome to the family by giving her a seed pod to eat—a seed pod it had specifically developed for her, if she had understood Father correctly.
So. If there was one sentient tree in the universe—how could she, the captain of a sentient spaceship, presume to doubt that there was?—then obviously there could be others.
“I’m thinking it might actually be crew,” she said.
“We have not observed any actions that proclaim sentience,” Joyita said. “There may be many reasons for that. For instance—we may simply not have the correct observation equipment, or we may not have clearly identified ourselves as persons concerned with its well-being.”
Theo nodded. “Have you been able to identify what kind of tree it is?”
“To be certain, we would need to do a match at the cellular level.”
“So, a physical sample.” Theo leaned her head against the back of her chair.
“Okay, next shift, we’ll move the tree over here to one of the unused ’ponics rooms. No sense being inhospitable.”
She braced herself for objection from Bechimo.
None came.
She nodded, carefully.
“All right then,” she said. “Let’s get some work done. Joyita…”
“Yes, Theo?”
She smiled suddenly, filled with a surprising anticipation—or perhaps not so surprising. After all, she was the daughter and the granddaughter of Delgadan scholars. Research was in her blood.
“Joyita, please pull Spiral Dance’s logs—piloting and navigation. One copy each to me, to Bechimo, and to you. First one to find the coords to Galaxy Nowhere wins!”
What they would win, aside from the thrill of the chase, since two of them were self-aware AIs and not in need of anything that she could fathom, was left as an exercise for the student.
But the research might in fact be enough, if the flutter of pleasure along the new nerves she had acquired when she became Bechimo’s bonded captain was any measure. Or the extra lilt in Joyita’s voice as he acknowledged her orders.
“Yes, Theo!”
* * *
They were struggling with the third level of data locks on Spiral Dance’s files when Win Ton, Kara, and Clarence entered the bridge. Theo took a break, leaving Bechimo and Joyita to it, and gave her orders: Kara and Win Ton to do a thorough physical inspection of Spiral Dance; Clarence was on tree transport. Bechimo would assist the inspection team with passcodes and bypasses, as needed.
Theo turned back to her board just as Joyita murmured, “We’re in.”
Theo smiled in anticipation.
“All right; let’s see what was so important.”
* * *
The pilot’s log was empty.
Ship history had been wiped, beyond its own name and the name of Captain-Owner Cantra yos’Phelium. The course history was only one Jump deep—the Jump that had apparently brought it to this strange little pocket of space.
Pilot Cantra had gone to a great deal of trouble to lock…nothing up very tight, indeed.
Theo fuffed her bangs off her face, and sank back in her chair.
“In case the ship was taken,” she said, proposing it as a theory. “She wanted to buy time, so she made it look like there was information—important information—to be had.”
“This would be consistent with the public histories,” Joyita said. Theo glanced at Screen Six and met his eyes. He was frowning; perplexed or annoyed, she wasn’t quite sure.
What they did have—the only thing they had—was the route, and a backup route laid in, the coordinates of which made Theo’s head ache.
She got up, went to the galley, brewed herself a cup of tea and returned to the bridge. Slotting the cup at her station, she danced a few steps of a focusing exercise, and slid
back into her chair, sitting forward and glaring at the coord string, willing it to make sense.
Which worked about as well as could be expected.
She sipped tea, and glanced again at Screen Six. Joyita was studying…something…out of her line of sight.
“Those coords make any sense to you?” she asked.
He shook his head without looking up.
“There is an anomaly in the coord set,” Bechimo said, from behind her left shoulder.
“An anomaly other than the fact that they don’t describe any place possible?”
“Any place possible in the local universe,” Joyita murmured, still not looking up. He shifted a little, as if reaching for something just out of convenient range.
“So, we are still assuming that this flotsam is coming in from another universe?” Theo asked. The math…
But Bechimo would have done the math as a side thought. Joyita, too, for that matter—and it was Joyita who answered her.
“Yes, Theo. That assumption does bring the coord set into sense. Pilots are not prone to feeding their ships nonsense coords. Even in the most desperate situations, pilots will try to go somewhere. If that somewhere no longer exists, or there is a strong repulsive field between where the ship was, and where it was attempting to go…”
“Or there was an anomaly in the coord set,” Theo said. “Bechimo? What about that?”
“Assuming that the structure of coordinate sets is a constant, across our system and that utilized by Spiral Dance, I note that there are two extra pairings in the string,” Bechimo said.
Theo frowned at her screen, where the coord set under discussion was displayed in all of its lopsided glory.
“Why are we assuming that the structure is the same?”
“Because those ships involved in the Great Migration would have brought the math and the structure with them,” Bechimo said. “There are no records of a completely new math of piloting being developed, whereas there are many documents recording the efforts to map the geography of the new universe and establish stable coords.”
There was a small silence while she considered…as many of the ramifications of that statement as her head could hold.
