by Jaleta Clegg
“Hold a ship for us!” Darus yelled after him. “If there are any still up there.”
I heard him and somehow found strength to move again, despite the horrible ache in my side. My rib bones ground against each other with every step. I pushed Wade’s arm away. He gave me a single look and let go. We started climbing.
I didn’t make it very far. I stumbled over a rock, jarred my ribs, and had to stop, leaning against the cliff face. Darus squeezed beside me and pulled my arm over his shoulder. I groaned. The trail was wide enough that he could drag me up it. And he did.
Four switchbacks up the hill, he passed me over to Wade. I felt like a piece of cargo. I didn’t have the energy to protest. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep walking. At least the cliff face was still in shade.
They passed me back and forth, with Fya behind us urging us to go faster. I hadn’t heard a ship lift off for quite a while. Maybe they’d all left. At that thought, I wanted to just sit down and wait until the pain ended. Wade wouldn’t let me.
The trail narrowed until we were shuffling single file. We came to a corner where it widened out. I staggered onto the relatively flat spot and sank down on the hard rock.
“Keep moving,” Darus said. He looked almost as bad as I felt. His face was red, beaded with sweat.
“I need to rest,” I said. “Just give me a few minutes.”
“We don’t have a few minutes,” Darus said.
“We aren’t going to make it without a rest break,” Wade answered. He sat where he was on the trail.
Darus gave in and sat next to me. Fya leaned against the rock and watched us. The constant breeze lifting from the valley cooled my face. We were about halfway up, farther than I’d thought. Across the valley, in the side canyon, I saw movement. Tiny figures in white pulled aside the thorn barricade that shut the canyon off from the rest of the valley. I wished them luck. I wasn’t sorry for them, not in the least.
“Long enough,” Darus said. He stood and held his hand out to me. “Unless you’d rather be carried.”
I took his hand and tried not to wince as he pulled me to my feet. We started up again. I managed to walk the first two bends by myself. When I stumbled over my own feet and almost went over the edge, Wade grabbed me, hauling me back on the trail. After that, he and Darus took turns dragging me. It got worse the higher we got. The trail narrowed even more. We shuffled sideways, one or both of them hanging on to my arms and pulling me along. I went in a fog of pain, only half conscious.
We stopped to rest briefly, at first only every third or fourth turn in the trail but as the trail steepened near the top, we rested more often. They must have switched places at a wide spot in the trail. The next time I stumbled it was Fya who caught me.
We were nearing the top when there was a confusion of voices, people calling. It gave the others more energy. I was too far gone to even realize what the voices meant. We moved faster, climbing the last few turns and coming out on top of the cliff.
I was picked up by someone I didn’t know and carried at a fast pace through the growth of stunted trees that lined the cliff. We came to the brittle growth of plants. Their sharp scent woke me from my daze.
The whole top of the cliff was changed. The plants were trampled, trails led everywhere. The ships were gone, leaving behind scorched spots. Except for the Phoenix. My ship still waited. A crowd of people worked around the airlock. I wondered vaguely what they were doing. Someone was hammering, the metallic clang echoing in my head.
Clark stood outside the ship, watching us as we came closer. I squirmed. The man carrying me put me down. I found I could walk, as long as I didn’t try to hurry or breathe much. I didn’t want to be carried. I didn’t want Clark to see me that helpless.
“Trust you to be the last one out, Dace,” Clark said with a grin as we came up to the ship. “Do you want to tell me what you did to the doors? We had a devil of a time getting in.”
“That’s it, Clark?” I answered. “No ‘it's good to see you again, Dace, and by the way how are you’? I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“You don’t look it,” he said. “You’re going to have to go in through the cargo doors. I had to dump the whole computer core and reboot to get them to respond. We had to climb on top to go in through the emergency hatch, but I don't think you're up to that. We should be able to lift soon. If they can get the airlock unjammed.”
“That wasn’t me,” I protested.
“There’s plenty of chicken soup, too.” He knew I hated the stuff.
“I’d throw something if it didn’t take so much effort,” I grumbled.
I made it out of sight behind the ship before I had to stop. I leaned against the ship, holding my side. And groaned at what I saw. The ground behind the ship was strewn with broken shipping crates and miscellaneous bits of our cargo.
“This way, Dace,” Darus said. He and Wade hoisted me and passed me into the cargo bay.
I closed my eyes and didn’t look. I didn’t want to see the destruction of our cargo as I passed through the cargo bay then crawled through the small hatch into the main part of the ship.
There were people everywhere inside. A whole group of engineers argued in the entrance to the engine room. The cockpit was jammed with people. Jasyn stood in the galley, supervising the people eating our stores. She saw me and looked relieved. Someone bumped me. I saw stars of pain and crumpled, holding my battered ribs.
I was at the center of a whirl of people. Someone carried me into the end cabin and put me in the medunit.
Someone I didn’t know, an older woman, bent over me. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I grumbled, as much embarrassed as in pain.
“Three broken ribs and four others cracked,” she said, ignoring my protest and checking the screen above me. “Nothing else too serious.”
“See? I’m fine.” I tried to sit and didn’t make it.
“Just lay still,” the woman said. She worked the controls on the unit, then rolled up my sleeve and stuck on a medpatch.
It worked fast, whatever it was. The pain went away and left me too drowsy to care. A warm light played over me.
“What about you, Darus?” the woman asked, turning away.
“A few scratches, nothing a good meal won’t fix,” he said, backing away. “Really, I’m fine.”
“You’re as bad as she is,” the medic said. “Sit still a minute.”
I giggled as he protested her examining him. He glared, his shipsuit unfastened down the front. The medic poked a series of bruises along his side.
“Ow,” he said.
“You’re fine. But I’d take it easy for a while.”
He fastened his suit, grumbling under his breath.
“Anyone else?” the medic asked, sticking her head out of the door.
Someone must have answered. She picked up the portable medscanner and left. Clark crowded in. The cabin wasn’t very big.
“We’re lifting soon,” he said. “Nothing too serious?”
“Cracked my ribs again,” I said.
“Do you do this often?” Darus asked.
“Not on purpose,” I said. And giggled again. Whatever that drug was, it was strong. And then I remembered the cargo. “Clark, they’re going to blacklist us.”
“What?”
“The guild,” I said, fighting through the mist that was filling my head. “Breach of contract. We didn’t deliver the cargo on time.”
“They can’t hold that against us,” he said, leaning over my bunk. People crowded behind him, those hurt enough to need whatever cushioning we could give them for liftoff. They climbed into the bunks that folded out of the walls.
“Not just that,” I said, the words slurring. “Ruined cargo. Dumped it out everywhere.”
“It’s not important, Dace. Extenuating circumstances.”
The engines rumbled. The ship vibrated.
“Guild doesn’t care,” I managed. My tongue felt thick, twice its norm
al size. I frowned at Clark. “Shouldn’t you be flying?”
“With fifteen other certified pilots on board? They wouldn’t let me.”
“Our ship,” I muttered.
The pressure of liftoff pushed me into the bunk. My eyes slid closed. I gave in to the drug. We were leaving. Somehow I’d done it, with a lot of help. We were leaving. I smiled as I let go and drifted to sleep. Real sleep, without nightmares.
Chapter 31
Jasyn saw Dace collapse against the wall, her face white and twisted in pain. Jasyn moved to help her, but there were too many people in the way. Their ship, designed for a crew of no more than twelve, had at least forty people crowded on board, if not more. And all of them were hungry, tired, dirty, and more than a little wild with freedom. The mood on the ship was one of relief, excitement, and celebration. Jasyn saw someone she didn’t know pick Dace up and take her into the end cabin, the one fitted with medical equipment. Jasyn sighed and went back to serving food as fast as the warmer could heat it.
Roz, across the cabin, sat on the floor and just smiled at the young man next to her. She’d found her brother and hadn’t let go of him since. He looked tired and nervous, but happy enough. He talked with Becka, one of Roz’s other crewmates.
The rest were doing the same, except for those fixing the door or checking the engines. Or the ones crowded in the cockpit getting the ship ready to fly. Jasyn slopped another container of soup onto the counter. She should be in there, it was her ship. She should be the one navigating it. She shouldn’t be stuck here, dishing out freeze-dried soup. She shoved yet another container into the warmer.
“Anyone here crew for this ship?” someone called from the cockpit.
Jasyn glared at the man. He saw her.
“You the navigator?”
“Yes,” she said sharply.
“Then get up here,” he said and grinned. “If we could find the rest of your crew, we’d let them fly us out of here.”
She handed the container she held to the nearest person and hurried forward. They made way for her, shifting aside in the tight quarters. She slid into her seat.
“I don’t know where you got this equipment,” the woman in the pilot’s seat said, “but it isn’t standard for this ship type.” She wore a company uniform.
“Standard on certain Patrol ships,” the man next to her said. He shot a grin at Jasyn. “Hovart told us about your pilot.”
“Are we ready to lift, Major Mulin, or would you rather sit here on this planet and gossip?” Commander Hovart spoke from the door of the cockpit.
“Sorry, sir,” the pilot said.
“Under the circumstances, I think I’ll forget it,” Hovart said. “What have you found, Lovar?” he asked the man sitting in front of the scanning controls.
“Unbelievable,” Lovar said, running his hands lovingly over the panels. “These are better than most Patrol ships.”
Jasyn started at that. Lowell had installed them, she remembered, and then he’d conveniently forgotten to have them removed. Just what had he given them?
“The fields are shut off,” Lovar continued. “There’s a big ion storm headed this way, though. This region looks like it’s in for some bad turbulence.”
“Then let’s get going,” Hovart said. He turned to Jasyn. “Your ship, you give the order.”
“Then if everything is good, let’s go,” she said. It felt strange. Usually Dace or Clark called it.
The engines rumbled to life. The pilots talked to the engineers. They ran through rapid checklists. The engines gathered strength. The ship vibrated. They rose into the air, lifting free of the tangled mat of vegetation. They cheered as the ship cleared the atmosphere.
Jasyn ran through the coordinates, calculating a course to Parrus as quickly as she could. Lovar fed her information almost before she asked for it. She altered her original course to account for the time passed and the new storms brewing in space around them. She gave the pilots the heading to the jump point. The ship veered, picking up speed. She finished entering the course. The computer blinked green, accepting it.
“Course in and locked,” she announced, then sat back, blinking away tears. Not sad, she thought. Happy, relieved, and tired. She looked at the viewscreen, watching the darkness of space, the brilliance of the stars and the nebulae. Yes, she thought, relief that they were free of that horrible planet. Relief that Clark and Dace were both here, and in relatively one piece.
They reached jump point. The ship slid smoothly through into hyperspace. The pilots shut down the sublight engines. The mood in the ship relaxed. A few days, and they would be back in civilization again. How would it be for those who had spent years, decades, on that planet? And what about those who would never leave?
“Five days,” Commander Hovart said over her shoulder, as if he were reading her mind. “Kind of hard to believe.”
“How long were you there?” Jasyn asked.
“Too long,” he answered. “What do you have on this ship to celebrate with?”
“Would chocolate do?”
“You have chocolate?” the other pilot asked, her eyes wide. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been?”
They urged her into the overcrowded lounge. She blinked back tears. They were on their way back, it was real, it was happening. She gave in to the happy mood, especially when she saw Clark coming to join her at the galley.
“Dace is out for a while,” he said into her ear as she thumbed through the galley inventory. “She’ll be fine with a bit of rest.”
She smiled and leaned against him. “Want to help me make cookies? We’ve got all the ingredients.”
He kissed her in answer. They were cheered. Jasyn pushed Clark away, blushing furiously. He laughed. She laughed with him. It felt good. Things were back to normal. Well, as normal as they ever seemed to be around Dace.
Chapter 32
I floated lethargically somewhere warm and soft. I didn’t want to wake up, I didn’t want to move. Some part of me knew that bad things were waiting for me when I did, like pain. I tried to stay floating in the warm darkness. That thought touched off a memory I didn’t want of fuzzy warm energy that tasted like strawberries. I gave up and opened my eyes.
I saw the bottom of a bunk not far over my head. I stared at it a minute, trying to place where I was. Which ship? When? The engines were running, a deep vibration barely felt. It was as familiar as my own heartbeat. I was on my own ship, in hyperspace, but not my bunk. I was in the bunk with the medunit attached because I'd broken my ribs again.
I breathed in and out, waiting for the stab of pain in my ribs. It didn’t come. I felt a slight twinge, sore muscles more than anything. I felt better than I had in a while. I also felt very hungry.
The smell of fresh baked cookies drifted past. I sniffed, wondering if I was still dreaming. I heard a murmur of talking, it sounded like a lot of people. Someone in the room with me snored. I turned my head. The other three bunks in the room were all pulled out and occupied. Something in the room stunk, it almost overpowered the smell of cookies.
It was me. I needed a shower. But so did the rest of the people on the ship. Just how many were there? I had no idea, but I suspected it was a lot more than our life support system was rated for. I swung my legs over the edge of the bunk and sat, careful not to knock my head on the upper bunk.
I was barefoot. I frowned at my naked toes. I vaguely remembered Clark taking my boots off. I didn’t see them anywhere. It didn’t matter. They were somewhere, and if not, I had more in my cabin. Besides, I was on my ship. I could stand being barefoot on my own ship. I shuffled into the lounge.
People sat everywhere, on the cushioned bench, on the floor, around the table, in the engine room, even up in the small cargo bay that was pressurized. Jasyn sat on the floor in the galley, talking to a woman I didn’t know. She saw me and stood, smiling.
“Feel better?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, picking my way over legs to her. “It would be nice to ge
t clean, but I don’t think we have the water for it.” I counted at least twenty people just in the lounge.
“Water is a bit tight, even if we recycle. Life support is running on emergency override. But,” she handed me a cookie, “we have seventeen qualified engineers on board, five of which are specialists in life support systems. Have a cookie. I saved you some casserole, since I know you hate chicken noodle.” She popped a container into the warmer.
I bit into the cookie. It was perfect. At that point, it could have been two weeks stale and hard as a rock and still been considered perfect. It wasn’t, it was soft and chewy, the chocolate still dripping.
“I had to fight off thirty people to save that one for you,” Jasyn said.
“Thank you. It’s been at least three days since I had anything to eat.”
“Eating shouldn't be a problem. We should have enough food, as long as you don't mind using the freeze-dried emergency stock.”
“You know how much I hate it. Clark bought it in case we got stuck somewhere. Use all of it. I won't mind. How many people are on the ship?” I savored the warm chocolate, nibbling to make the cookie last as long as possible.
“Fifty three.”
The woman Jasyn had been talking to stood, watching me with interest. “You must be Dace. The name’s Roz.” She stuck out her hand.
I licked chocolate off my finger, then shook her hand.
“They say you were the one who got us out of there. How?”
“I didn’t do much,” I said. The warmer beeped.
“Let her eat first,” Jasyn said. “Then we’ll beat the story out of her if we need to.”
I was being watched, by just about all of the fifty three people on the ship, except the ones still asleep. Commander Hovart leaned against the wall by the cockpit. I met his gray eyes and wished I hadn’t. He’d seen the equipment in the cockpit, nothing I said now would convince him I wasn’t an undercover agent posing as a smuggler.