by C. Gockel
“Lizzar dung,” said Noa.
“Can’t this thing go faster?” Wren cried.
The future unfolded in James’s mind. In a moment the Luddecceans would set their cannons directly beneath the lift, then they’d fire their plasma cannons up at the floor, heat it to super hot temperatures, and cook them all in their boots. They were trapped … and for some reason that made him panic in ways being shot at had not.
“Ghost? Manuel?” Noa called into the ether. “Can it go faster? They’re going to fire on us and—”
“I have an idea!” Ghost responded across the ether.
“What is it?” Noa said.
“Manuel, lower the pressure in the airlock,” Ghost cried. “Everyone be ready to jump!”
Monica, Wren, the boy, and the girl did not have access to the ship’s general ether and Noa relayed the message, “Jump, on our word.”
“Why?” said Monica.
Already bouncing, Noa said, “I don’t know, just do it.” She grabbed Zoe’s hand and the boy’s. James wished he could grab her but wrapped his arm around the warm weight of Carl Sagan, still miraculously tucked in his shirt, instead.
“Now,” shouted Ghost through the Ark’s ether.
“Now!” Noa relayed to Wren and the others.
The cannon fired below, and the floor below them went hot.
Chapter Eleven
Monica, Wren, Noa, the children, James, and Wren all jumped. Time stopped. James felt heat below from the phaser charge and smelled burning plastic. For a breathless moment he was afraid they’d be cooked as soon as he landed.
But they didn’t land. They were still going up—floating. An internal app screamed that gravity had decreased to .1 G. James looked down. The plastitubing’s bottom was melting and turning black. The lift platform was red-hot. If the men below fired again—
There was a whoosh, and a clang, and the boy screamed, “My ears,” and the team was sucked up into the airlock. They hit the floor in a pile. Around him people gasped for breath. Noa sprang up and hit the airlock door. It closed and James called to Manuel through the ether, “Air! Air in the airlock.”
The inside door opened with a whoosh and oxygen rushed in.
“Did you somehow cut off gravity in Adam’s Station?” Wren gasped.
“Our chief computing officer did,” Noa gasped back. Over the ether, Noa said, “Brilliant, Ghost!”
It had been brilliant—as had been decreasing the pressure in the airlock so that when it was opened, all the air from the tube was sucked in. Ghost was so useful when he was on their side.
Wren stuttered. “How could he—?”
“Adam’s Station’s ethernet is … not secure,” James said, feigning being breathless.
“It’s not that insecure!” Wren protested.
“Commander, thank me later!” Ghost cried over the ether.
At the inner door of the airlock, 6T9 appeared. “May I be of service?”
Over the general channel, Noa said, “Chavez, pull us out of dock.” Waving a hand at Monica and the children, Noa said, “Stay here, Sixty. As soon as we’re clear, get them to sick bay!” To Monica, Noa said, “You wanted the job of ship’s doc and you’re hired.” Monica cowered back, her wide eyes going back and forth between James and Noa.
“Initiating sequence, Commander,” Chavez said over the general channel.
In James’s shirt, Carl Sagan finally stirred. “I hope you can also handle the occasional non-human patient,” James said unfastening the garment.
“Pardon?” said Monica.
James pulled the werfle’s limp body from his stomach. The creature blinked up and mewed.
“Oh,” said Monica, eyes widening. “Its venom has been milked, hasn’t it?”
James’s eyes slid to Noa’s. “Sure,” said Noa.
James shrugged. “Of course,” he said. A dark spot in James’s mind brightened. He wouldn’t mind if Carl Sagan bit Monica. He passed the creature to her and took off after Noa, already striding through the hallway, distantly aware that Wren followed. Ignoring him, James connected to Adam’s Station’s docking authority … even if the Luddecceans didn’t use the ether, Adam’s Station still would. As soon as his apps picked up his intention, he heard the familiar static, his vision went white, and then he heard docking control say, “Adam, the Luddeccean Guard ship is lifting off. Do I open the main doors?” And the response, “Just keep the Ark’s locker closed! I want that ship! They’ve got more food, I know it!”
“But the main doors, for the Luddeccean ship—”
“Hold on that—” Adam said.
James blinked. Oh, no.
At the entrance to the access ladder, Noa paused. “James?”
“Noa, the Luddecceans are requesting—” said James.
“Commander, we don’t have the charge dispersers online,” Chavez responded, cutting James off.
Ghost’s voice split through the ether. “The Luddeccean Guard ship requested permission to leave the dock.”
“Chavez, just get us out of here,” Noa said. “Open our hangar doors. You can do that, right, Ghost?”
There was a blink from Ghost’s ether connection that James interpreted as an indignant sniff. “Of course,” Ghost said.
“Aye, Sir. What heading?” said Chavez over the general channel.
“Just pull us out of the berth!” Noa said, jamming her thumb into the call button. “Manuel, do we have time bands online yet?”
The engineer’s words sifted through the ether. “Not yet, Commander. Still installing the charge dispersers—”
“Where do you need me? The bridge, deck 23, engineering?” James asked Noa and the ether at large. As the words slipped from his mind, he felt himself longing for engineering and the heat there. The thought, oddly, made his mouth water.
“You’ll be most useful here on 23,” said Manuel over the ether.
No engineering, no heat … James exhaled softly and looked to Noa.
Meeting his eyes, Noa nodded at him and then poked her head into the access tunnel. “Damn, the access is crowded,” she muttered to the ether.
“Take the elevator!” Eliza said over the general channel. “If it gets stuck, just hit the control panel with a hammer!”
Over the ether, Chavez said, “Ghost has gotten the hangar doors open. Trying to release clamps now. Ghost, I think they’re jammed on their end!”
“Commander,” said Ghost. “The Luddecceans are promising Adam’s Station increased rations for his cooperation … he’s going to open the main hangar doors at any moment.”
Cursing, Noa spun from the door. She bumped into James as she did. For a moment he thought it was an odd and glorious accident—but then he felt her fingers graze his stomach. They left a trail of white-hot electricity in their wake.
“Ganbate,” he said to Noa aloud as she strode down the hall. It was Japanese, and not a word that had a direct Basic translation, but loosely meant never give up, persevere with stubbornness, and keep fighting.
She was already at the lift, a light blinking above the door saying it was about to arrive. “Always,” she said aloud, turning back to look at him. He felt her reaching to him through his private channel, not with words, just with her presence. It was nice to feel her there. James swung into the access ladder, his eyes briefly falling on Wren’s gaze, but he was too busy starting up the shaft to think of it. And then he abruptly found his nose right beneath Bo’s feet. He heard Kuin’s voice above Bo. “Kara, move!” and Kara’s retort, “I am moving! I don’t want to break the dispersers!”
“This is worse than a London hover jam,” James complained to Noa across the ether, managing to climb up a few more steps. At least it was warmer than the normal decks with all the crushed bodies. Below him came Jun’s voice. “Hey, can you hurry up, Professor? I’ve got to get these dispersers to 23.”
“All clear here.” Noa projected her view of the hallway from the lift—Wren far at the other end. The lift dinged, and the door be
gan to slide shut. “I hope that the lift doesn’t stop again.”
“You’ve got a fine hammer,” James said, thinking of her perfect kick at the control panel last time.
“Hmpf,” Noa said. The opening of the door was just a crack, and then a dusky hand reached in. The door bounced open, and James was staring through Noa’s eyes at a leering Wren.
* * *
James’s voice was in Noa’s mind as the elevator door bounced open. “Do you need me back there?”
She glared at Wren. Looking at him made her think of the civilians on Adam’s Station, their bodies mowed down by his dual-phaser cannon. His plan hadn't taken possible civilian casualties into account. Based on his history she wasn’t surprised—he played the game for profit, not principle. Noa’s hand went to her stunner as the door whooshed shut behind him.
“Relax,” Wren said, holding up his hands as the lift began to ascend. “I don’t want to die. You know me that well.”
Noa pulled the stunner nearly out of its holster.
“I only want to help,” Wren said. “I’ve got people depending on me now.”
Noa’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust that he cared about Monica, Zoe, or the strange boy—and then she remembered him running back for the kid. She slowly lowered her weapon. To James, she said, “I’m fine.” Aloud and into Chavez’s mind, she said, “Ensign, why are we still docked? Has Ghost released the clamps?”
“Yes, but the Ark’s computer is slow and still running through the safety subr—”
“Release now!” Noa ordered, speaking aloud and into the ether in her frustration.
“Yes, Commander,” Chavez said, and Noa swore she could hear her gulp.
“Newbie at the helm?” Wren said.
Noa shot him a death glare … and found his eyes were on the ceiling. His face looked pale. She watched his Adam’s apple bob.
Noa turned her focus to Ghost. “We need a course—”
“Our heading is clear, Commander,” her chief computing officer said.
“No, we go anywhere but our intended heading,” Noa said.
“Good plan,” Wren said, and she could see him nodding out of the corner of her eye.
Damn, she’d spoken aloud again. The ship shuddered as the docking clamps released.
James and Ghost’s thoughts exploded at once. “The Luddeccean Guard ship is out of the dock!”
“Commander,” Ghost said over the ether. “They aren’t in the direction of the cannons.”
“What’s going on?” Wren said, his voice rising in pitch. “Give me access to my ether so I can help!”
“Manuel, report,” Noa said, ignoring Wren.
“We’re almost done, Commander,” Manuel said over the ether. And he projected a vision of James putting dispersers into their sockets with inhuman speed.
Noa called through the ether, “Ghost! Give me that heading.”
The lift stopped at the bridge, and the ceiling bloomed above her head. Noa raced up the steps and slipped into the empty pilot seat. “Engage thrusters, Chavez,” Noa ordered.
“Engaging,” Chavez said. “We still don’t have—”
“Luddeccean ship is powering up weapons!” Wren said from the cannon chair.
“Should we take evasive maneuvers?” Chavez asked.
“In this old hunk?” Wren said unhelpfully.
“Ghost!” Noa cried. “I need that heading.”
“Loaded into the computer, Commander,” Ghost said, and a star map flashed before Noa’s eyes.
“We’re a sitting duck!” she heard Wren say.
Noa gritted her teeth and felt heat at the corners of her eyes. Damn useless commentary.
She set thrusters to maximum and sent the ship in the heading Ghost had indicated. “I’m counting on you,” she whispered to Manuel, his team, and James.
In a low voice, Wren said, “Luddeccean ship firing in three, two—”
Manuel said, “We—”
Gripping the control wheel, Noa pulled back hard, and hit the thumb releases for lightspeed.
“—One,” Wren finished just as the stars blurred.
“—Are ready for lightspeed,” Manuel finished. Noa laughed, and her apps exploded with the combined laughter of her crew, and James’s voice low and smooth, “Well done.”
Wren, sounding irritated, said, “Shit, don’t do that to me again!”
She wasn’t done. “Ghost, can I safely adjust the course by one degree to let the phaser that should have just clipped us pass by if we suddenly lose our time band again?”
“Lose your time band … again?” said Wren.
Ghost’s voice echoed through the ether. “.0000025 of a degree at six o’clock is clear and should put us out of range of the phaser.”
“Thank you, Ghost,” Noa said adjusting the heading. “Manuel, I think now would be a good time for you to check out what is wrong with the cooling conduits in engineering.”
“There’s a problem cooling the reactor?” Wren said.
“Commander … did you bring someone else aboard the ship with you?” Ghost asked, his voice cracking on the comm.
Noa responded across the channel. “Wren, Monica Jarella, her daughter, and a—”
“Wren? And that … that woman who went aboard the Luddeccean vessel?” Ghost’s thoughts screamed across the ether and cracked through the ancient comm system on the dash.
Wren held up his hands. “I can explain!”
Noa’s eyes went wide. Chavez was up in an instant, stunner out.
“You sure as hell will!” said Noa, spinning in her seat. “Chavez, get him out of here!”
Wren protested. “I’m on your side! Think of the doctor and the children!”
“Make him strip and throw him in one of the unused cabins,” Noa said to the ensign.
Wren leered at Chavez’s metal legs. “Kinky. I like a woman who can crush my head between her thighs.”
“Stun him first,” Noa added belatedly.
“What—!” Wren cried.
Chavez stunned him, and he wilted like a flower … or more accurately, a weed.
Noa exhaled in a growl. “James, I need you up here,” she said.
To Chavez, she said, “Let James take care of Wren. I want you to make sure Monica and those kids are contained in sick bay.”
Chavez gave a curt nod and headed to the lift.
“Ghost,” she said. “You didn’t detect any ethernet signals out when we left ship?”
“I’ll check again, Commander,” he said. “Too bad you can’t throw them out of an airlock at lightspeed.”
Noa swung back around in her seat. She thought of Monica’s daughter … she couldn’t throw a doctor out of an airlock in front of a child.
Lizzar balls, what had she gotten herself into?
“Nothing worse than normal, I’m sure,” said James’s voice.
She must have been thinking out loud again. She turned around in her seat. James was climbing out of the ladder access shaft. Seeing him prompted a smile.
Wiping his hands, he looked down at the unconscious Wren and raised an eyebrow. “Of course, for you ‘normal’ tends to be … bad.”
“Whose side are you on again?” she asked with irritation.
Hauling Wren up like a sack of potatoes, James winked at her.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You’re lucky you can lift heavy things.”
He cheekily tossed the ball of light that seemed to be their secret kiss across the ether.
Noa turned back to her read-outs. As though a kiss of light could make things better. But it sort of did. A little bit.
* * *
Noa needed sleep and food, not necessarily in that order. Her mouth tasted acrid, like the cryssallis treatment she’d just had. Outside the porthole in the hallway, the stars were not a blur of white. Chavez wasn’t experienced enough to fly faster than .5C. When Noa instructed her to pilot the Ark to Libertas, she knew the chances of the woman making it were slim … especially if
they had another inopportune shutdown.
Ghost’s voice popped into her consciousness. “We can’t remain at this speed. There are buoys out here. The Luddeccean premier may be a technophobe, but he’s too afraid of an alien invasion to give up surveillance out here.”
“Out here” was below the ecliptic plane, far away from the cover provided by Adam’s Belt.
“Work on the course I told you about,” Noa said. “We shouldn’t be at lightspeed until you make sure it is clear.”
There was a whoosh as the lift down the hall opened. She felt a surge from her nanos, neurons, and maybe from her heart, as James’s channel lit up within her mind. She turned and saw him stepping out of the elevator. His sleeves were rolled up, and his tattoos stood out, glossy black on his pale skin. Once she’d thought they’d looked like a leaf pattern; now she knew they were feathers.
“It’s not the most direct course,” said Ghost.
“No, it’s not the most direct course,” Noa agreed aloud, tapping her fingers on her data port. “But it is the route we’re least likely to be detected along.”
Aloud, in Japanese, James said, “And won’t give away our true destination.” He’d been in the engine room helping with the faulty cooling duct, and she swore she could feel the heat from the engine room rolling off of him.
Ghost grumbled and Noa said, “Get me that course, Ghost.”
“Yes, Commander. But there is also the matter of our current guests. They need to go out an airlock before we jump to lightspeed again.”
James tilted his head, as though he was listening, although Ghost had spoken directly through the ether.
“I remember, Ghost. We may need to drop them off somewhere,” Noa said. “But an airlock is … extreme.”
“Even for Wren?” Ghost said.
“Maybe not for Wren,” Noa said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
James’s eyebrow rose, and Ghost’s consciousness flickered away.
Letting out a long breath of air, she gave James a tired smile. Before she even asked he said, “We fixed the conduit that was letting too much heat into engineering.”
Noa looked up and nodded. “The rest of the ship feels warmer.” And her apps told her it wasn’t just a feeling.
