by Tim Dennis
"Let's go!" He heard in the distance.
The three ate silently in Traveler's kitchen. In light of his stumbling into Peto's line of fire, Myles couldn't come up with a rational argument against Norte's order, so he'd accepted his confinement. Adding insult to injury, instead of eating under the stars, with them, Myles had accidentally succeeded in convincing them to eat inside, with him. At least for the duration of the meal Norte and Peto were as unhappy as he.
After dinner, his jailers continued working outside. Myles headed upstairs. Norte and Peto had claimed the larger room, leaving for Myles Traveler's own, smaller chamber. Cozy but not cramped, the bed neatly made, clothes still hanging in the open closet. A small wooden table stood beside the bed. On it an image in a holder, old fashioned, static. It was of a woman, beautiful, young. Not unlike Bento except for her intensely dark skin. Myles remembered Traveler's pinkness.
Are these extremes of pigmentation typical on Earth?
Myles went down to the pilothouse, waited until Peto and Norte turned in, and took up position on the sofa. He slept soundly, waking to the smell of coffee.
Peto stood over him holding out a cup. Myles took a moment to figure out where he was and then reached up for it. He swung his legs around and Peto sat beside him.
"You looked through the viewer?" Peto asked.
"Huh? Yeah. Last night."
"It's fucking amazing, isn't it? I mean all these years and finally, we find it. And it was Krykowfert! Ha! I never woulda pegged him for a Believer."
Myles was still not quite awake and considered for a moment that this happy, smiling Peto might be part of a dream.
"I can't believe I'm actually here." Peto continued. "I can't wait to see the faces of the non-believers when Krykowfert makes the official announcement!"
Before Myles could react to that Norte came down the stairs. She nodded at Myles and Peto, took a coffee and sat at the table. "I'm done with the probe. We'll launch it this morning, then lift off ourselves and check on it. Then we go home."
"That can reach orbit from the surface?" Myles asked.
"It should." Norte took her cup and left.
Should? said Pig. "I was hoping more for a 'yes, of course it will.'
Peto watched Myles spin around, as if some unseen person had tapped him on the shoulder.
"Oh," said Myles, "I, um, I thought I heard something."
Myles got up to follow Peto but when they reached the stairs Peto turned, held one hand up in Myles's face and dropped the other on the hilt of his pistol. Myles sighed and went upstairs to shower and change. When he stepped out, wet, he remembered he'd not packed a bag.
An hour, he said.
He dressed in yesterday's clothes and went down to the pilothouse hatch.
You've spent half the trip in there. Isn't there a real window in this thing?
Myles suddenly felt calm and relaxed, and had the inexplicable urge to try one of the doors off the short corridor leading to the lower stairs. One remained locked but the second opened. He stepped into a small room, two sides lined with cabinets and the third blank, but glowing with a faint blue light. He took a step towards it and a two-meter square section of the wall faded away, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the ship. Myles stepped to the edge and looked down on Norte and Peto, tilting the probe vertically in its launcher.
Norte shoved Myles through the pilothouse hatch and stepped on his hand as she climbed in after him.
"Show me – how did you open that?"
"I don't know!"
"I don't care if you know, what did you want?"
Myles thought about that for a moment. He'd wanted a view. He said so.
"OK. Now you want to launch a probe into a stable orbit around this planet."
Norte drilled Myles in opening and closing the large upper-level hatch until she felt confident he could do it in orbit, then she and Peto started rigging the Skimmer cart to lift the probe into this newly discovered room.
With the probe mounted and waiting, they left behind the low wall and the antenna fence and lifted into the air. At altitude, Myles could see some of Norte's equipment walking away from the camp, across the stream and into the distance. Soon they were too high to see that.
The launch of the probe didn't provide any challenges. Myles wanted it to happen. It would mean Krykowfert didn't need Traveler's ship anymore. He imagined air escaping and wished doors open. Exposed to the vacuum of space the probe propelled itself through the open doorway. The ship spun, or at least the view did, allowing Myles to witness the awakening. The probe huddled near the ship, unfurling delicate wings and stretching long, slender antenna ahead of itself, toward the ship as if it were reaching, reluctant to leave behind the safety of its launch bay for the solitude of a precarious orbit. To Myles it looked alive. To Norte it looked like a satellite. She adjusted the little ball-on-a-stick between the seats and the view spun back to unfamiliar star fields. Before lunch they were hovering outside Central Command, waiting for the hangar doors to open.
12
Feric carried two cups of tea into Krykowfert's little conference room, placed them on the table and left. Peto and Norte each took a cup. Myles let his empty hand rest on the table, as if he'd meant to simply stretch. When Krykowfert showed up, the cups were empty. He offered the head chair to Councilor Five, who looked at him suspiciously but took it. Feric placed two more cups on the table. Councilor Five took one. Myles hesitated. Krykowfert opened a small f'window and arranged pockets for data storage. Myles leaned forward just as Krykowfert, without taking his eyes off his data, reached out and took the cup.
"I hear you had quite an adventure, Tugot." Krykowfert said.
Myles admitted to the close call in the bushes, much to the entertainment of Krykowfert and Peto. Then Norte took over the debrief, detailing especially the launch of the probe from the ship in orbit.
Krykowfert pretended to include Five in the debate concerning the purpose of the second floor doorway, issuing orders for a team of techs to examine it before the next flight.
What does he mean, next flight? Myles thought.
"What do you mean, next flight?" Myles said.
"We're preparing to open a Rip and test the probe." Krykowfert said. "Depending on those results we may send you back."
"Wait a minute. You said just this one flight-"
Five looked over at Krykowfert who immediately spoke. "This trip has certainly given us all a lot to think about. I expect you are all looking forward to couple hours of relaxation."
Norte knew the meaning of Krykowfert's smile and Peto knew enough to follow her lead. They both stood, followed by Krykowfert and Myles. Hands were shook and thank yous voiced and Norte and Peto exited. Myles sat on a fence between the desire to leave and protesting against a second mission. Krykowfert refused to release his hand. Apparently it wasn't up to him.
Myles waited awkwardly as Five engaged Krykowfert in a heated implant debate. Five reddened, broke the connection and left. Still holding his hand, Krykowfert forced Myles back into his seat with a smile, then he himself went into the outer office. Having cleared it of Councilors and Guards, Krykowfert returned.
"What is the problem Tugot? The mission went fine."
Myles sat back in the chair and thought for a moment. Eden held no special attraction for him, but the ship itself was increasingly intriguing.
"Fine. But I'm going alone."
"Nonsense. Norte has work still to do. She will go with you."
Myles folded his arms, leaned back. "Norte is an asshole and Peto isn't much better. He's a lap dog, just doing whatever Norte tells him."
"Yes yes, I know. Peto is a soldier. And Norte is a fine pilot and navigator."
"Well I'm flying the damn ship and it doesn't take a soldier to set traps and collect specimens. I can do that too!"
"Could you? Honestly?"
Of course he couldn't. Krykowfert looked down on him sympathetically. Even sitting Krykowfert was taller than Myles. Quiet
ly, with much less defiance, Myles said, "I need a change of clothes."
Feric leaned in, glanced over Myles's disheveled dressings and ducked out again.
"Done." Krykowfert said.
"And I want to speak to Traveler."
Krykowfert thought about that for a moment. Feric poked her head back in the door, Krykowfert's eyelids fluttered, Feric dipped her head and exited.
"Norte," Krykowfert said, "is guiding the team testing that door of yours. The process should take less than three hours. Until then, do as you wish. But do not leave Central Command and do not discuss the mission with anyone not directly involved."
Myles wasn't certain if he should register that as a victory or a defeat. He wanted to push the topic further but Krykowfert had already reopened his f'window. Feric stepped back into the room.
"Will you come with me please Advocate Tugot?"
Myles found Traveler situated comfortably in a suite of rooms built especially for his confinement as an Honored Guest. His tr'indo showed a view similar to Krykowfert's offices; the inner curve of Central Command's major torus across the maze of Launch-rails, Shuttle Lobby in the center.
Myles began with apologies, first for Traveler's incarceration, second for his own complicity in the 'borrowing' of Traveler's ship. Traveler graciously accepted both.
"Why is it that I can fly your ship when I can barely use my own implant?" Myles asked.
"How did you like it?" Traveler's voice remained steady, dry.
Was that sarcasm?
At that moment Myles lacked the confidence to push his own line of questioning. He stammered, filling the silence by recounting each and every detail of the trip to Eden, especially noting that he'd slept on the couch and left Traveler's room undisturbed. The rigidness that Myles imagined he saw in Traveler's face softened and Myles thought he saw empathy as he related the story of the murdered leaf-eater. He segued from mission details to his interactions with the ship, tossing in a few personal details about Peto and Norte. Traveler continued listening, Myles continued talking.
He eventually ran low on stories.
"The way you control your ship, it's not so different from how we control ours." Traveler said.
Over their heads Shuttles automatically came and went in the maze of Launch Rails.
"You are not controlling the ship so much as it is fulfilling your wishes." Traveler said. "It relies on you knowing yourself, your wants. This may seem the same, but there are significant differences."
Myles waited for Traveler to elaborate, but he didn't. More Shuttles came and went. It was a busy day on Central Command. Myles tried a more direct approach.
"Before he sent me to Eden," began Myles, "Krykowfert took me out in his new ship. He showed me something he called a 'Rip.' Said it was like how you travel, but different. How is it different?"
"Ripping is a more primitive, and dangerous form of the phenomena we call Holing." Then he stopped. Smiling. Waiting.
Myles realized that if the Council and Krykowfert hadn't gotten anything of interest from him, he wasn't likely to. Myles changed tack. "How long have you been away from Earth? Homesick?"
Traveler sat a little straighter and smiled at Myles. "Despite what most of your peers think of Earth, it is my home, and I love it. It is where I was born, raised, and in time will raise a family of my own. Yes. I suppose I am in a way, homesick. But I am here because I wish to be, and I hope, before I leave, that I will get the chance to make more friends on Legong."
Is that frustration in his voice?
Myles wondered if he'd offended Traveler in some way. A slight vibration indicated the departure of a shuttle, shifting Myles's attention to the view out the window. The sky was quiet for a while, Legong passed below. The stars returned only to be wiped away by a great flash of light. Traveler watched Myles's face and followed his gaze out the window to the unfolding spectacle.
For the moment the sun was behind them, and Central Command's shadow moved across the settlement below, chased by the shadow of a shuttle hurtling up from the surface. At the same moment a cascade of meteorites, debris from the larger explosion Traveler had just missed, tumbled towards them, sparkling in the sunlight. The shuttle continued, catching the same sunlight as it left the atmosphere. As the shuttle and the debris converged, streaks of light burst from within the tangled mass of launch-rails and flashes erupted all over the surface of the torus of Central Command.
Cannons flung missiles and particle beams into the path of the advancing shuttle, tracking, compensating and vaporizing first those meteorites that threatened the shuttle, then shifting and cleaning up the escapees. Not a single beam missed its target, not a single missile fell to Legong.
Myles saw Traveler transfixed. His eyes darted from one blast to the next. To Myles the display was a triumph of technology over the destructive forces of the universe, as amazing as any ant-hill or beaver dam, as majestic as any mountain range. It was a ballet played out in the skies over Legong every hour of every day. It had begun hundreds of years ago before the colonists landed and would continue as long as settlements clung to the stony surface.
"He's sending me, us, out again." Myles said. Traveler didn't appear to be listening. "They want someone on the other side, in case something goes wrong with the Rip." Myles heard his own voice crack and wondered if Traveler sensed his tension.
"That's a valid precaution." Laconic but not morose, Traveler voiced no concern for his ship or even his own imprisonment.
"Krykowfert's not going to be able to keep Eden a secret. Your arrival, the timing of it, people are going to make assumptions. It's going to feed right into their fears of Earth, of you."
Traveler shrugged.
They sat together for a while longer, talking of simple things. Was he being well fed? Within expectations. Was he at least able to move around Central Command? With a Guard. Was he allowed visitors? Councilors and Krykowfert. Who else would want to see him?
Having failed to get satisfactory answers to the burning questions of the day, and having exhausted avenues of small-talk, Myles said goodbye, promising to return Traveler's ship in good condition. "now promise me you won't leave before I get back." It was a silly comment, Myles was unsure why he said it.
Traveler's countenance changed as he considered the request. "No. I shan't."
Myles smiled uncomfortably and exited. The lone Guard in the corridor ignored him. Deciding a drink and a snack were in order, Myles tried to access his implant for directions to the Rim Bar and failed. He could have asked the guard, but nstead wandered the sector until he found his way back to familiar corridors.
The Rim Bar was experiencing greater custom than it had a few days before. About a quarter of the tables in the center of the room were taken, the bar counter itself was half full. Only the window seats remained sparsely populated. With the Earthman no longer a secret regular shuttle services had resumed. As always, Myles chose a table by the windows, looking down on Legong as he mulled over the conversation he'd had with Traveler.
Didn't really accomplish much.
"What did you expect?" Pig sat across from him.
I dunno. I just thought he would have been more upset about things.
Myles didn't notice the bartender looking over at him. He'd not made any connection when he'd entered, hadn't ordered anything. He just sat staring out the windows. Legong slipped away and nothing but stars remained.
...the spectra of Eden's sun is-
Oh, shut up.
"I didn't say anything." said Pig.
Seriously. Can you pick it out? Do you remember?
Myles scanned the sky. No single dot of light looked any different from the others.
What the hell am I doing?
The absurdity of the past two days was beginning to dawn on him. He scanned the sky again. Legong was just starting to re-appear in the far left section of window, its brightness causing dimmer stars to fade. Myles let out an audible huff and threw his hands up. The bartender, d
ropping off drinks two tables away, looked over and briefly considered asking Myles verbally if he wanted anything, then walked back to the bar.
The quiet chatter of a couple dozen patrons created a white noise, only making it easier for Myles to drift off into his thoughts. Vaguely aware of Caldera passing below, Myles continued in his orbit as he and the rest of Central Command left it behind and snuck up on the next settlement.
Myles had been sitting there almost an hour when Krykowfert came in. The room went silent, Krykowfert stood a few steps inside the open doorway, his Guards still in the corridor behind him.
"Please, please." He motioned for everyone to stay seated. "Even the Director needs a drink now and then!"
Krykowfert managed enough of a self-deprecatory tone that the immediate tension dissipated. A cadet at the bar giggled and the focus shifted. Conversations started again, a little more quietly. Krykowfert walked over and Myles looked around for a chair to offer him. He remained standing, ignored Pig as if he wasn't there, which of course he wasn't, and tossed a small orange pod onto the table.
"Here." He said. "Put this in your pocket. Even if you don't want to use it, it will make finding you easier."
Myles picked up the manual link and turned it over from hand-to-hand. It fit neatly into the palm.
"Norte and Peto are ready. We've been waiting in the hangar." And then after a pause: "How was your chat with Traveler."
"Fine." Myles didn't get up, Krykowfert finally sat across from him, sending Pig back to where-ever he'd come from. "He doesn't seem to care." Myles said. "About anything."
"Yes. I noticed that when he first arrived." Krykowfert's eyes fluttered and the bartender, watching attentively since he arrived, quickly assembled a couple drinks. "Come now Myles, don't tell me you're getting cold feet."
