Leap Ships [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 7]

by Michelle Levigne

  “Recorders are online, computers ready to analyze,” the slightly metallic, slightly plural female voice of Watcher announced.

  “Then I suppose we should get going.” Lin pushed out of her chair, bounced off the ceiling and angled down to the access door to the observation dome. She paused, holding onto the doorframe. “Are you sure it's all right, staying down here?"

  “Fine.” Bain forced a grin onto his face. He didn't know if he felt nervous, peeved at being stuck on the bridge during the Knaught Point transition, or ashamed at his childish feelings. “What's the alternative? Me taking Sunsinger through and you staying down here to monitor everything?"

  “Ordinarily, I do trust you to pilot through the Knaught Points...” Lin shrugged. They both understood the implications of this experiment. Bain was too nervous to pilot, and Lin was too nervous to let him.

  Only a few seconds later, Ganfer brought the engines back online and Sunsinger moved out of its parking orbit around an imaginary point in space.

  “Tractor field coming on,” Herin warned, her voice coming soft through Bain's collar link.

  “Are you as scared as me?” Bain asked without thinking.

  “More.” A soft chuckle followed.

  Suddenly, Bain didn't see her as having a sour expression. He knew lots of people who acted stiff and formal when they were worried.

  Sunsinger shuddered softly. Bain only felt it because he was waiting for it. He checked all the instrument readouts.

  “No stress, no change in momentum,” he reported. “You're really good."

  “We have to be able to run the whole ship before we're allowed to captain,” Herin said.

  “Yeah, me too.” Bain flinched when the purple flashing light at the left corner of his board signaled they approached the Knaught Point. “Almost there. Hang on."

  He started to close his eyes, then opened them, feeling slightly ashamed. If he couldn't watch the shift of colors and energies through the dome during the transition, he didn't want to see anything at all. But, he couldn't do that. He had to watch the screens and check every tiny fluctuation of power and stress factors on the ship. Sunsinger's life was quite literally in his hands.

  In a way, it was interesting watching the numbers shift so rapidly they were almost a blur on the screen. He had never thought about the translation of the energies sliding past the ship as having a correlation in hard, solid numbers. The play of light and color, and faint echo of celestial music through the dome, all seemed to belong in another version of reality and only rubbed against his physical world during transition times.

  That wasn't quite true, as the blinding splash of numbers across the screen now proved. Bain wondered now how any ship had ever survived a Knaught Point transfer to figure out how to navigate one. Maybe being a Spacer had more to do with incredible luck and outside guidance than actual skill and intelligence. He decided to ask Lin about it when all this was over.

  “We're through,” Lin said, calling down through the access hatch from the observation dome. “Any problems?"

  “None,” Bain shouted back. “Herin, any trouble at your end?"

  “Not a glitch.” She sighed. The sound ended on a chuckle. “I'm almost disappointed."

  “Not me.” He tapped in the commands to save everything for further study, then blanked his screen. “Now what do we do?"

  “I think,” Captain Lorian said, her voice coming through the main speaker in the ceiling of the bridge, “it's time we met face to face. Lin, will you and Bain join us for dinner?"

  “That would be wonderful,” Lin said. She floated down through the access door and kicked off the wall, flew over to her chair and caught it with one hand, using the momentum to throw herself down into place. “Just one little problem—how?"

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Ordinarily, when Leapers visited from ship to ship, they used one-man sleds or multi-personnel shuttles and went through the docking bays in the underbelly of the ship. For larger ships and more formal occasions, they hooked up environment tubes to allow passengers to walk back and forth between them.

  The Estal'es'cai, for all her impressive size, was a small ship of the Leaper fleet. She had an umbilical, for emergency transport circumstances. Anchor lines extended from both ships, held in place with magnetic ends, then the umbilical tube went from the Estal'es'cai's airlock to Sunsinger's. No environment was pumped into an umbilical, because emergencies didn't allow the time, effort and energy needed to pressurize and heat one. Lin and Bain donned spacesuits, went through the airlock on Sunsinger, and towed themselves hand over hand to the Estal'es'cai.

  Going through space with only the transparent umbilical's walls and his own faceplate between him and the other ship, the size nearly stunned Bain. He felt the ship's power and strength pulsing through space. Its long, sleek lines made him pause and stare three times during the short, hundred-meter journey from Sunsinger to the Estal'es'cai.

  The airlock on the other ship was comfortingly familiar in design. Enough familiarity, Bain felt a little shock when he looked at the writing above some of the control buttons and realized they were in another language. Even some of the letters looked wrong, turned sideways or hanging above the others when they should all have been sitting side by side in a neat row.

  A green light came on in the airlock and the hissing of pressurization grew softer. The light came on, making it a sterile, pyramidal room with the left side angling out from top to bottom, following the curve of the outer shell of the ship. Bain turned and looked at the door leading into the ship. He saw a face—a smiling face—looking at him. Then whoever it was stepped aside.

  The lights flickered twice. Lin nodded to Bain, reached up and started unsealing her helmet where it joined her spacesuit. He waited a moment, not sure what he was waiting for, then followed suit.

  The door hissed open. Bain dropped his helmet. It bounced with a soft thud against the soft flooring of the airlock. He caught it and then had to force himself to turn around.

  “Welcome, Captain Fieran and Apprentice Kern to the Estal'es'cai.” The woman who stepped into the doorway wore a sleek, glossy black uniform with royal blue and gold piping down the seams of her pants and long tunic and in multiple lines around her cuffs and collar. Her long face was almost plain, with wrinkles around her generous mouth and eyes. Then she smiled and all the wrinkles were laugh lines, not from age. Dark, chocolate brown eyes sparkled and her mahogany-colored hair hung in a series of intricate, looped braids from the back of her head, heavy with silver, blue, gold and emerald beads. Her skin was a softer shade than sand at the edge of the water. Bain forgot all he gathered in his momentary inventory when Lin stepped up to the woman and held out her hands to meet their host's outstretched hands.

  Captain Lorian K'veer was taller than Lin, by head and shoulders. Bain swallowed a groan, caught between a chuckle and feeling embarrassment for Lin's sake. Then he stopped himself—Lin wouldn't feel embarrassed, so why should he worry?

  The two captains clasped hands a moment, then Lin shook her head and tugged her hands free and wrapped her arms around Lorian. The woman hesitated, then enfolded Lin in a returned embrace.

  “Welcome home,” Lin said when she stepped back. Her words made Captain Lorian catch her breath.

  “Yes, it is home in a sense, isn't it?” Lorian wiped at one eye, then straightened her shoulders. “Welcome, Bain. Were you as disappointed as Herin when there were no problems to solve?” She beckoned and stepped out of the airlock.

  “Yes and no. Mostly no,” Bain said with a grin. He stepped out of the airlock, into what looked like an anteroom. Shelves full of helmets and folded spacesuits and extra uniforms displayed clearly the room's purpose.

  Standing along one wall, ranged like a welcoming committee, were an older man and two young women. The shorter one, little more than a girl, grinned at Bain and fluttered her fingers at him. He recognized that grin from that glimpse through the portal. That had to be Rhiann.
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  The man and the older daughter, Herin, wore black uniforms like Lorian, but with less fancy piping. The man wore what looked like silver leaves on the collar of his uniform. Rhiann wore a silvery-gray uniform with no decorations, but royal blue piping.

  “This is my husband, ship's doctor Haral,” Lorian said. Haral nodded to them, then stepped up and slid his arm through hers. “This is Herin, and Rhiann.” Both girls stepped forward and nodded as their mother introduced them.

  Haral had jet black, curly hair and emerald eyes, and both daughters had inherited those features from him. Herin had her father's tall, lean shape. Rhiann still wore some baby fat, but it didn't look awkward on her.

  “You've given our ship designers a challenge,” Haral said. “For generations, they've insisted a ship can't be run with less than a crew of fifteen. How you manage with a crew of two, even with your ship-brain, is amazing."

  “We're a smaller, simpler ship,” Lin said.

  “But you can do things our ancestors couldn't do.” Lorian shook her head. “I've gone through the tapes of that Knaught Point transition fifteen times, and I still can't pick up the feel of it or even any marker points to give me clues of what to do."

  “It's something that has to be learned. It took our scientists several generations of study before they could program computers to handle the process.” Lin nodded her head in thanks as Haral opened the hatch at the other end of the anteroom and led her and Lorian out and down the hall. “Most people still prefer Human pilots. Quite a few Spacers have left their ships sitting idle to work for the Fleet during our conflict with the Mashrami."

  “How long did it take you to learn how to fly through Knaught Points?” Herin asked. She didn't offer her arm to Bain as they stepped through the hatch and started down the hall after their elders. Bain was grateful.

  “Years. I've been with Lin since I was a little."

  “A little what?” Rhiann asked. She slid her hand into his and grinned up at him. Her cheeks weren't quite as chubby as he had thought. Her hand wasn't sticky or wet or dirty, and Bain found he didn't at all mind holding her hand as they walked down the wide passageway.

  “A little, that's all. Instead of saying ‘little boy’ or ‘little girl', you just say ‘little.’ I guess you call that slang."

  “More likely idiom,” Herin said. She glanced around Bain and saw her sister holding tightly to his hand. She frowned a little, but said nothing. Bain and Rhiann exchanged grins. “It's like saying ‘foal’ instead of ‘colt', or ‘filly.’ It's generic."

  “Oh.” Rhiann's face sobered for a count of three heartbeats. “Can I see your ship? Mother says I can show you all over our ship after dinner."

  “If you want,” Herin hurried to add. “You might understand more if you go on the tour with Mother and Captain Lin."

  “Probably. But they'll want to talk about all sorts of boring things,” Bain said slowly.

  He thought quickly, though, glancing back and forth between the sisters and paying very little attention to the curving hallway with the inset doors at irregular intervals on either side. The floor was carpeted in a sound-hushing dark blue—and so was the ceiling. Bain could see the sense in that, if the ship suddenly lost its artificial gravity and the people were propelled upward without warning by their last step. The walls were a soft bluish silver. It gave Bain an impression of a very nice, private hotel—not at all the cold, functional feeling of some of the military ships he had been on.

  Those few impressions faded under the pace of his thoughts. Bain admired Herin for her intelligence and skills and knowledge of the ship. He would have an interesting tour if he went with her. Herin would probably go on the tour with Lin and her parents, and help her mother. Rhiann, on the other hand, would know all the fun things to do inside the ship—the fun things children always found to do that most adults forbade because they might be dangerous. Rhiann would probably tell him stories about things that happened in the engine room or the life support plant or tell him about some particularly gruesome operation in the sickbay. She would show him areas her mother wouldn't even think to show Lin.

  The way he saw it, Bain had a duty to see as much of the ship as he could—especially those areas Lin might miss. Besides, he would have more fun with Rhiann and go at a much better speed through the boring areas and linger in the really interesting areas.

  “I'd like that a lot. Thanks, Rhiann.” He squeezed the younger girl's hand. Her face got red and she grinned wider, but she didn't giggle again like he expected.

  “Can you really understand us, when we speak your language?” Herin asked.

  “Sure. The accents are off in a few places, but other than that, nobody would ever know you learned it from tapes instead of people."

  “We've been practicing ever since Mother got the assignment to come back here and explore.” She gestured at an open doorway at the end of the hall.

  The three adults ahead of them stopped in the doorway and looked back, waiting.

  “My girls have been practicing so hard just for something like this, you'd think they were planning on staying in the Commonwealth for the rest of their lives,” Lorian said.

  “How long have you been preparing for this contact?” Lin asked.

  “Years."

  “Oh.” She nodded slowly, digesting that bit of information. Lin was quiet as their hosts led them into what turned out to be their family quarters.

  The room was long, with multicolored cushioned benches built into the wall at one end of the room, thick pillows and rugs on the floor, and bright hangings of woodland scenes on the walls. A table with what looked like a teaching center sat next to a closed door.

  The opposite end was dominated by a long, boxlike desk with four screens and keyboards, drawers and cabinet doors on all four sides. More screens filled two walls behind and beside it. Bain politely turned his gaze away from that end of the room, realizing this must be Captain Lorian's office.

  Haral stepped up to the inner door and it slid open before him. He waited until everyone else had preceded him through into the next room, which had a door in each of its wood-paneled walls and a long table dominating its center. Square glossy black plates and goblets and flatware were set in front of each chair, with golden lace napkins artfully arranged on each plate. More wall hangings softened the silver walls. One wall had scenes of seaside life, beaches and waves, vague ship-like shapes on stormy seas, moonlight on smooth nighttime waters. The second wall was of more woodland scenes. Bain didn't recognize some of the animals depicted, but the birds were glorious with long scarlet and azure plumage, huge, fluffy crests and eye-shaped patterns in their wings. The fourth wall held a starscape, velvety blackness broken by silver and golden specks of starlight, or the crimson and white and gold spattering of a nova. The third wall caught Bain's attention. It seemed familiar. He looked at Lin and found her staring at it.

  “Do you recognize it?” Lorian asked Lin, after several minutes of waiting quiet.

  Haral, Herin and Rhiann had taken places at the table. Bain took a step closer to Lin. Lorian watched her, waiting. The silence sounded loud in Bain's ears. He knew he should recognize the image, of a long, sloping, emerald grassland suddenly broken by a canyon of golden and scarlet rock. A river meandered across the grassland, abruptly plunging over the edge of the canyon in a misty plume of waterfall. Bain thought he could reach out and touch the picture in the wall hanging and feel wetness.

  “It's the Brecklier Chasm,” Lin finally said. “You saw it in those pictures Sister Marnya showed us, Bain. The headquarters of the Order are at the bottom of that chasm."

  “My direct ancestor brought the original of that hanging from Vidan when we fled this universe,” Lorian said. “We've kept it preserved, along with all the old tapes, audio records and books, so we could communicate and have proof of who we say we are, when we return."

  “Suddenly, I feel very small and insignificant in the web of the universe,” Lin said, shivering a little.
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  Chapter Six

  Dinner was spent talking about Knaught Points and trying to understand how Spacers navigated them. Lin and Lorian did most of the talking, but Bain looked at the two girls and their father and found them listening intently. No one was bored. Knaught Points always would fascinate him, because no two Knaught Points were the same, and each one could conceivably provide a hundred different doorways into other places in the universe, just through a difference of a few degrees of approach.

  Afterwards, Bain couldn't have said what they had eaten, but he knew it was good, there had been more than enough, and he had taken second helpings of everything. When Rhiann leaned close and asked in a loud whisper if he wanted to take his tour of the ship now, Bain was more than eager to go. He knew if he didn't get up and get moving, he would fall asleep soon.

  “Are you really going to be captain of Sunsinger when you're grown up?” Rhiann asked almost before the door slid closed behind him.

  “Sure. That's why Lin is training me herself. You don't trust a ship like Sunsinger to just anybody."

  “Spacers must be a lot different from Leapers. Only girls can be captains of Leap-ships.” The younger girl shook her head, her mouth forming a little frown, as if she didn't quite like that idea.

  “Why is that?"

  “Genetics. The khrystal only goes to the females in the line. If I had any brothers, none of them could ever be Leap captains, no matter how good they were at everything else."