by Scott Rhine
“What kind of data?” Roz asked warily.
“Just old-fashioned music, no copyright violations. Trust me. They’ll be worth their weight in gold.”
On her way back to the ship, Roz told Ivy about the Bat’s interview.
Ivy whispered, “You were right about Deke being the best.”
“How do you know?” Roz asked.
“You didn’t notice him straightening bar napkins?”
“Um … no. What does that have to do with piloting skill?”
Ivy remained silent through a crowded region and a security checkpoint. Once back in the cargo bay of The Inner Eye, she explained, “About a quarter of Bats manifest obsessive-compulsive disorder. That’s a sign of their gift. In Humans, it would be called Simplification—where we find the patterns in something, from the stock market to genetic markers.”
“And Deke did this with piloting?”
“Or he’s borderline insane,” Ivy said. “Specialists are supremely arrogant.”
Roz nodded. “I think he fits the bill. Tell me more about specialists.”
“The largest portion of our brain goes unused. This talent fills the unused portion of the Bat brain with something vital to survival, etching new neural pathways and finding the essence of something. About age thirteen, these OC children are encouraged to find something that sparks their interest, such as math, the law, medicine, or sports trading cards. By age twenty, they know everything about that subject. Not all of the options are pure mental disciplines. It can branch into hand-to-hand combat or sports—whatever their society needs the most at that moment. Bat criminals can be almost impossible to catch if they slip into Human space.”
Roz badged through the airlock doors, opening them for her friend. “Do you think Professor Crakik is a specialist in physics?” Echo seemed more certain than ever that the mysterious Bat theoretician could provide the missing piece that would make her subbasement equations usable.
“Most likely.”
“What about their leaders?”
“Well, Deke’s captain could have been an expert in yacht racing or some other team sport before the war. He might have been able to hold a ship of pilots together better than most. Usually, leaders are skilled generalists for two reasons. First, specialists in the same area are too competitive to get along with each other. Second, do you really want to be led by a manipulative compulsive who’s planned to rule the world since age thirteen?”
****
While Roz continued repairs with Grady, the other partners met with Deke.
For dinner, Roz planned to prepare Chicken Parmesan, but when Max didn’t show up to help, she went a little overboard hitting the chicken with the tenderizing hammer.
Only Ivy noticed. “Max isn’t blowing you off. He’s meeting with a lawyer to make arrangements for Deke.”
Roz stopped pounding. “He’s a great pilot, isn’t he? I watched him take off and land twice today. Flawless.”
“You called it, honey. His legal situation is a little tricky, but we’re offering to make him the seventh member of the company. Kesh and Max are handling the details. Reuben and I are managing what little cargo and supplies remain. We need you focused on The Inner Eye.”
Roz nodded, pulling out eggs, cheese, and crumbs for the batter. “We’ll be ready ahead of time. Grady isn’t brilliant, but you could trust him with your life. Here, grate this cheese into a bowl.”
“Can’t. Nails,” Ivy said, holding up her fresh manicure.
“Fine. Start the spaghetti then. Bring the water to a boil before throwing the noodles in.”
“Rules, rules, rules.”
“It’s how I live and how I’m built.” Roz reflected on her friend’s spontaneity. “Do you think that’s a turnoff for guys?”
“Depends on the guy.” Ivy filled a container with water. “Some fellows can’t get enough mashed potatoes. They eat them with every meal, which isn’t half bad if you use enough butter, spice, and milk.”
Roz frowned. “Is this a dirty metaphor?”
“No, a shopping list. That sounds really good, but I’ve been trying to watch my weight since I’ve moved to the ship. I’ll order some of each after dinner. Never buy food by the ton when you’re hungry.”
“In that case, add just a little garlic and sour cream. If we’re stocking up on butter, do you think Max would like cookies?”
“Wicked temptress,” Ivy accused.
“This is my last meal, and I wanted to go out with a bang. Evidently, Herb’s wife, Alyssa, made meatloaf for the guys over lunch, and they all voted to accept her.”
Ivy nodded. “Max spoke with her alone for a few minutes and claims our crew won’t be complete without her. Don’t worry. Reuben informs me Alyssa’s in her late forties and obviously in love with her husband. Kesh said her cuisine was only a three-star attraction, but her plebian appeal makes up for her lack of originality.”
“Which means everyone had seconds, and she doesn’t garnish with carrot sculptures.”
Cracking the spaghetti in half, Ivy said, “I don’t care, as long as we won’t be stuck cooking anymore. In addition to loading cargo, I think Herb is even doing the dishes. Here’s to well-trained men.”
“Amen.”
****
The ship departed Prairie Station a little overweight but a day early. How many Cheese Festival souvenirs did he buy? Kesh warned her not to say anything about Deke on the radio because he took the weekend off followed by terminal leave in order to garner the maximum pay. “The station has a non-competition clause in his contract. To adjust for this wrinkle, our partnership with him isn’t official until we enter Bat space. Planet-based Human contracts aren’t enforceable at that point.”
“That seems fair,” Roz replied.
She spent the next couple days training Deke on her ship. Deke eked more power out of the system by turning off everything unnecessary. Then he pushed the envelope on the engines as they accelerated into the gravity well of the nearest sun, which seemed to waste more fuel than she had allotted. When she objected, Deke explained, “Growing power gems thrive on the bursts of radiation from the pulsar-like star in the Phoenix system, but visitors need to get in, swap containers, and leave as soon as possible. Trades are generally agreed to via radio before a ship even lands.” Supplies generally weren’t purchased at the sparse, corporate outpost.
On the third morning, Max rode shotgun, alone with her for the first time since their hotel stay. She had just about worked up the nerve to talk to him when Prairie Tower contacted the ship. “We’re trying to track shuttle two-niner-I. Did you happen to run into her out there, Inner Eye?”
Max took the call. “Negative, tower. I haven’t seen her since we paid at your counter for the last load. The pilot may be joyriding or moonlighting. He’s been written up for both before.”
Roz wrinkled her forehead. His eagerness and wording felt contrived. He was probably covering for Deke. She was a terrible liar, so she kept her mouth shut. The tower signed off.
Nearly two hours later, the tower called back. “Inner Eye, our security logs show that the pilot badged back into our hangar, but we show no activity on the station since. His room is empty. Vern says you offered Deke a job.”
Max casually reached up and switched off the ship’s transponder.
Roz jerked up in her seat. “What are you doing? We’ll need that if rescue teams have to locate us.”
Over the ship’s intercom, Max broadcast, “Run silent, run deep.”
The lights on the bridge and the common room below winked out. Deke reported in. “On our way up now, sir.”
“What the hell is going on?” Roz asked.
“Unclip,” Max replied.
“Why?”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Head to the kitchen and start dinner. We’ll all testify you had nothing to do with this,” Max said.
“Testify?”
Deke shot up the ladder o
nto the bridge. “Chief, let me fly in case they fire a missile.”
Dazed, she unstrapped and let the combat expert take over. Deke immediately juked the ship onto a “hypothetical” alternate course he had plotted on an earlier shift. Then he switched off the Icarus fields so no one would be able to target them at such a distance.
She remembered the last-minute added mass. “His blade. You stole the shuttle?”
Max waggled his hand. “Debatable. I’m a registered bounty hunter. By Bat law, that shuttle was someone else’s property, and I’m reclaiming it.”
“You’re endangering that sweet, retired couple!” Roz said.
“Actually, Herb was the one who helped us spoof the station access points. Turns out his wife is on parole.”
Roz tried to speak, but too many surprised objections collided to jam her mouth.
Kesh stepped out of the elevator onto the bridge. “You’re relieved, Roz. I’ll stall the tower until we jump.”
Ivy emerged from the elevator behind Kesh. The room held too many people. “Alyssa was some sort of interstellar con artist. Herb was the detective who finally arrested her. Then he got a job on Prairie and waited for her until she served her sentence. He’d watched and studied her for so long that he fell in love. Now that’s romantic.”
“She cooked for the railroad construction crews for years,” Kesh said. “The pastry-chef thing was supposed to be rehabilitation. She can talk to a person for a couple minutes and know their favorite breakfast sweet. It’s eerie.”
The conversation kept getting more surreal. Roz said, “I will not be a party to piracy.”
“Told you,” Max said to Kesh.
“Max filed all the necessary paperwork for repossession and informed the nearest Bat Embassy.” Kesh fiddled with the communications panel. “Prairie Station will go after the Galactic Cup race association for the balance of the debt because they’re the real thieves. The interstellar incident will all blow over in the few decades it will take for us to return to Human space.”
“Decades?” Roz echoed.
Max placed an arm around her and led her to the elevator. “Do you really think what happened to Deke was justice?”
“No, but—”
“Justice helps those who help themselves.”
“No fair paraphrasing me,” Roz muttered.
“Look,” Max said, “the rest of us voted to do this unanimously. If you really don’t feel comfortable with this, I’ll take the escape pod with you and explain to the authorities that you’re innocent.”
“They’d arrest you,” Roz said.
Max shrugged. “For a while. Some government would pressure them into releasing me. Prairie isn’t exactly Anodyne when it comes to political weight. I’d give them a year before I escape on my own.”
He’d do that for me? She imagined herself taking a job on Prairie, like Herb had, to wait for Max to get out of prison. “I couldn’t let that happen. How are you going to dock at Phoenix without getting all of us arrested?”
“We’re going to arrive a few days earlier than the flight plan, with a new name. We’re changing from the Saurian Inner Eye to the original Magi registry Sphere of Influence. Reuben has already changed all the internal indicators and given us a fake electronic backstory. No one will raise an eyebrow at a Magi ship buying power gems.” Mahdra crystals were the foundation of most of their technology. “We brought decals for the new external labels, and Grady can help apply them.”
“This is semantics. We’ll be outlaws.” Roz examined all of her friends. None seemed repentant.
Ivy grinned. “Yeah. My sisters are freaking out, too.” She pulled Max’s dart pistol out. “I need to lock you in our room until we jump—doctor’s orders. You might suffer another episode, and we need to study you under sedation until we know you’re safe.”
Roz turned to Max. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Which is why I’m holding the pistol,” Ivy explained. “I’d pull the trigger so you’d sleep through the night. Your tossing and turning keeps me awake almost as much as your snoring.”
“I don’t snore,” Roz snapped immediately, glancing nervously at Max. “She likes to tease.”
Max couldn’t meet her gaze. Kesh said, “You need to leave now, Chief Engineer. Your choice how that happens.”
Surprising everyone, Roz floated to the elevator. “I want to talk to Echo about this. She’s the owner. If she’s okay with the heist …”
“That’s my girl,” said Ivy, following her.
Max stopped Ivy by extending his arm. “No. Everyone faces Echo alone.”
Roz briefly considered taking over the ship from below decks, but Max radiated so much support and trust that she couldn’t. That’s what I get for falling for the bad boy. She sighed as the elevator doors closed. Her last visit to Echo had given her a headache for days.
Chapter 10 – Motives
This time when Roz entered the mirrored sphere, equations decorated every wall and some floated in midair. Echo stood at the center, completely absorbed in the problem. Roz managed to sneak to within two meters of the astrogator’s back before Echo jolted.
“Sorry for startling you,” Roz said. “Were you planning the next jump to subspace?”
“No. These were the matrices I wanted to discuss with you.”
Roz scanned the constellation of math from this point of view and noted it did resemble a three-dimensional grid of smaller puzzles. “How does this relate to the professor’s theories?” she asked, distracted from the chaos on the bridge.
Echo pointed to a corner. “Those cells along the diagonal.”
“I’ll be glad to examine them in detail once we’re in subspace, but I’ve never seen half these symbols before.” Roz considered any given cell difficult enough to be worthy of a doctoral dissertation. The overall pattern reminded her of something, but the impression was fleeting.
“This is the subbasement equation. I anticipate that your gift, the one you just used to sneak up on me, will be instrumental in resolving it.”
“Sorry. I should have called ahead. It’s just Max—” Roz didn’t know where to begin on this knotted skein.
“Have you come here because Max asked you to do something disturbing?” Echo lifted her hands, and furniture rose from the floor near them.
“Yes. He acted totally out of character. I think the others pressured him into it. I wanted to get your opinion first.”
“Though you and I have spent little time together, I would judge you a suitable marriage partner.”
Flabbergasted, Roz fell back into the sofa. “Excuse me?”
“With all the time he has spent alone with you, I thought …”
“You can’t even finish that sentence, and you’re not meeting my eyes. Are you trying to lie?” The idea of a Magi doing such a thing was unheard of. Was she a criminal, too?
“No. I could never do so to a perspective mate.”
“You and me married? Is there something I should know?”
Echo sat down beside her, and Roz scooted a half-cushion away. “After the misjump on our maiden voyage, my partners died.”
“The collision with the asteroid minefield probably had more to do with the deaths.”
Echo nodded. “Without triad members to affirm my identity, my matrix has begun to disintegrate. The good doctor believes that with hormone treatments and therapy, he can preserve me until we reach my people with the results of the star-drive experiment, but only if our … team has the right composition.”
“Max is trying to save you?” Roz asked.
“Yes. In turn, I can aid him. In addition to nerve damage, he suffers from what you would term Post Traumatic Stress.”
“You can fix that? That would be amazing.”
“Together, we can.”
“All three of us?” Roz asked, her mind spinning.
Echo paused for a moment. “You wanted to know all the secrets of this ship. If we were united in marriage, both you and Ma
x would be honorary Magi.”
Roz sat on the edge of her seat, ready to spring to her feet in righteous indignation. The warmth of Max’s hours spent with her turned to the sting of betrayal. He wants a freaking alien three-way? “Let me get this straight. If I help you and sleep with your pet man, you’ll cut me in on the greatest research project in sentient history?”
The venom in her voice caused Echo to draw back and blanch. “Humans always seize on the sexual. Both of you have a lot of healing to do first. You must learn to love yourself before offering yourself to another to love. We do not rush the sacred.”
“Right. I just wanted to establish the price. We both know what I’ll be.”
Echo shook her head. “Have you ever heard of arranged marriages? The parents select a mate for the child. I scanned several planets worth of candidates, and you’re his best fit. You’re strong, skilled, intelligent, and innocent. He needs all aspects of you to realize his potential.”
“Wait. You chose me for him?”
“The choices are yours. I merely led him your direction. Please don’t tell him about my involvement because he genuinely likes you, and male egos are fragile.”
“Genuinely likes?” Roz tried to mock the words and hold onto the anger.
“With potential for so much more. I only ask that you remain open and listen to your heart.”
Rubbing the numb spot on the back of her neck, Roz asked, “What if we don’t excite each other … physically?” She recalled the warm glow she had felt sitting near him in the hotel.
“You realize I read minds.”
Roz blushed. “I mean, you’re gorgeous. So was his last girlfriend, Troutwine. Why me?”
“When you learn to love yourself, you’ll see the answer. Stop shearing your hair so often. You’re doing it to cut away your own femininity. You can be both the best in your field and a desirable woman.”
Clasping her head in her hands, Roz said, “Why is this coming to the surface now?”
“We won’t be in Human space much longer. Your opportunities to leave and mine to survive are dwindling. I need a commitment—hope. Will you join us with your whole heart on this endeavor?”
