by I G Hulme
And there, standing high up on the very edge of a torn floor level, there she was. She seemed to glow with a faint blue luminescence, and he could hear her voice in his dream, pulling him closer.
He tried to stir, to force himself to wake up — he knew that he was asleep, but he couldn’t resist the pull of that voice. He was getting closer and closer — he could see her reaching out to him, a glowing figure devoid of all features, the glow of her skin intensifying as he approached.
Ryann felt a terrible fear at the sight of her, but he couldn’t resist.
And then the smoke clouds obscured her for a second. And when they parted, he was no longer upon the broken moon’s surface. He was back in the shadow of the entrance to Station City-7 off his homeworld of Islanotis.
The Luminal ship was whole once again. It hung in space before him, an obsidian monster, dwarfing everything around it.
A green glow began to form within its centre — a terribly familiar glow. That same awful scene had played out when Locke’s ship had destroyed Jean-Baptiste Grande and all his people. But now that rising power was aimed directly at Ryann. He tried to move, to turn away, but the glow grew and grew, until it filled his entire consciousness.
Ryann heard himself cry out and lay gasping in the darkness as the images slowly rolled away. He reached over to the audio controls upon the console behind his bunk, punching at them in disgust.
The recording from the Luminal vessel ceased abruptly, plunging the cabin into silence. With a shaking hand he reached for the lights, blinking in the sudden illumination. He was bathed in sweat. His clock read four-forty in the morning.
Pulling himself wearily from his bunk, he dragged on his flight-suit. He got to his feet and strode out of his cabin, heading purposefully for the shuttle bay.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JEALOUSIES
“No, I didn’t want him to know just yet.”
Ryann heard Angelique’s musical voice just as he turned the corner into the hangar. He pulled up short when he saw her leaning against a landing strut of the Marianne chatting with Mara Kobo. Ryann bristled to see the man leaning over her, his arm resting upon the hull of the Ghost-Runner ship.
At that moment he realised it was such a long time since he had seen her smile in that carefree manner. Her face was illuminated, and he found her more beautiful than ever. He longed to just go up there and hold her, to tell her what he felt for her. But every day of routine together had built an insurmountable wall between them. That awkward, unsaid friendship couldn’t be breached, and any chance of telling her the truth seemed to recede farther each day. He had always thought that things would just happen between them, but seeing Angelique with another man brought everything into sudden focus.
He felt as though his world were falling away.
He went to approach them and then stopped as he saw Mara lean in, his face up close to Angelique’s. He said something that Ryann couldn’t catch, and Angelique threw her head back in laughter.
“No!” she said, ducking out from under Mara’s arm, still smiling to herself. “We’ll tell him when the time’s right.”
At that moment she caught sight of Ryann and pulled up in surprise.
“Ryann!” she exclaimed, running over to him still beaming. “I didn’t expect to see you down here!” She stopped before him as she noticed the look of anger upon his face.
“No, obviously not,” he grunted, his eyes never leaving Mara Kobo. The young man nodded a greeting, then turned, heading towards the hangar exit.
“Remember, we’ve got a pilots’ briefing in five,” he called back to Angelique, and she waved back to him.
“What is it Ryann?” she asked quietly as Mara disappeared out of the hangar, leaving the open space still and silent. “Are you sure you’re recovered, you look —”
“It’s not me that’s the problem!” he heard himself say. The words came out harsher than he had meant, and a look of surprise flashed across Angelique’s face.
Ryann fought the compulsion to continue, but he couldn’t resist.
“So, you’re flying with them now are you?”
“Well, I hardly think the Raven’s up to the job at the moment do you?” she laughed. “But wasn’t it amazing to see her again? Even though she’s in such a sorry state. I was so glad that Grayell rescued her. Look Ryann, I’ve been meaning to say —”
“You don’t need to say anything,” he snapped defensively. “I understand what’s happening.”
Angelique stared at him in concern for a second and then stepped closer, talking quietly.
“We’re trying to help out Ryann. I’ve been working with Anders — fighting fires, towing refugee ships, ferrying survivors to the station. I’m trying to make a difference.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been up to see you, but we’ve been working flat out for the past three days — we’ve barely had time to —”
“I hear what you’re saying. If you haven’t got time, that’s fine — I’ll get going.”
Ryann turned to leave, feeling such a desolation rising up inside as his world fell away from him.
“Ryann, I didn’t say that. What’s wrong?”
“No, go on, I’m sure he needs you,” he cut in angrily. “Better get back to your new ship.”
“Who needs me? Anders?” asked Angelique in confusion. She glanced up as a shuttle came in to land upon the pad beside them. Pushing her hair from her face, she called out above the blast of the thrusters: “I think you just need to go and get some rest — you’re not making much sense. I’ve got to get to this briefing — I’ll see you soon Ryann!” She went to step forward, placing her hand on his arm, but he stepped away, too angry to even look at her.
“What are you waiting for then?” he called over the wail of the shuttle’s engines. “You’d better get going.”
She gave him a long, lingering look and then hurried out of the hangar without looking back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE REAPER'S CALL
Ryann watched Angelique leave with a heavy heart. He felt the pressure of his surroundings building up within him. All he wanted to do now was to find some place away from everyone else. After years of just he and Angelique living aboard the Raven, this life, stuck amid the bustle of the Defiance without a moment’s peace was driving him crazy.
“Ryann?”
His heart sank as he heard his father’s voice above the dying whine of the shuttle’s engines. He turned around in dismay to see Grayell stepping out from the cockpit.
“What are you doing here Ryann?” asked his father as he approached.
“Nothing,” sighed Ryann morosely, still consumed with the way his conversation had gone with Angelique. He stared wistfully towards the exit, longing just to run after Angelique and tell her how he felt.
“You’re not still thinking of going across to that Luminal derelict are you?” asked Grayell moodily. “Because if you’re down here after a shuttle, I told you, I forbid anybody from going across to it. It’s too dangerous. Just sending out a ship could give away our position.”
Ryann felt his anger welling up inside.
“I wasn’t looking for a shuttle,” he spat. “If I wanted to take a shuttle, there’s nothing you or anybody else could do to stop me.”
For a moment, the two stood face to face, each of them refusing to back down.
“We’ll see about that,” growled his father at last. “If you can’t act responsibly, then I’m rescinding your flight clearance until you can learn to obey an order!”
Ryann looked up at his father in shock; he suddenly felt as though he had been transported years back into his childhood.
“You’re afraid,” he hissed at last. He stared defiantly back at his father, and for a moment he thought the old man was going to strike him.
“Damn right,” replied Grayell at last, his face up close to Ryann’s. “I’m afraid for the safety of every single person aboard —”
“No, not that.” Ryann forc
ed himself to meet his father’s stern gaze. “You’re afraid that if someone else has contact with the Lumina then you’ll no longer be the great hero, the sole keeper of some mystical truth only you can possess.”
“Oh for pity’s sake.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that this is bigger than you!”
“You’re acting like a spoiled little brat!” growled his father. “Perhaps you should consider that the universe doesn’t revolve around you for a change! I’m not letting a single ship off the Defiance, so get any stupid ideas out of your head. Right now there are around two thousand people aboard this ship who are depending upon us — so help out or shut up!”
Ryann glared at his father as the old man stormed out of the hangar in a rage. But he couldn’t resist a parting shot: “You’re just too afraid to do anything but run and hide!” He paused for a moment as though struggling with an inner turmoil. “Damn coward,” he muttered awkwardly to the empty hangar.
“Hey, easy Ryann.”
He turned in embarrassment to see the grizzled figure of Anders surveying him from the Marianne’s loading ramp. The big man walked over to him and Ryann felt his cheeks flush.
“I know it must be difficult having a father like that,” said Anders quietly. Ryann turned away to hide his face, looking out through the hangar entrance towards the chaos of refugee ships. They hung all around as the Ghost-Runners worked hard to build a refugee city in space.
“A father like what?” he muttered glumly.
“Well, you know, your father’s a great man — he built the Ghost-Runners up from nothing.”
“Oh yeah, my father — Grayell Wade, the hero, the saviour of the universe. It gets more like a damn cult around here every day!”
Ryann flinched as he saw Anders stiffen.
“Easy Ryann, don’t take me for a fool. You can’t deny that your father has saved the lives of everyone onboard this ship. He’s earned my respect the hard way.”
“Do you think he was like that for me?” spat Ryann; every word of praise heaped upon his father was beginning to sicken him. “Do you think I ever even got the chance to know him? I never saw him — I was always farmed out to some school or academy — not even in the same damn star system! I worshipped him, and he was never there —”
“I’m sorry Ryann — I know it must have been tough these last few months.”
“Tough? Living in the shadow of the Great Grayell Wade? The man who attacked an unarmed Outlander ship and brought the Lumina down on us? He’s the one who’s responsible for all this!” He gestured furiously out to the refugee fleet. “The deaths of all those people are on his hands! Well to hell with him — I’ll go my own way!”
“Hey, come on Ryann —”
“You know, for so long I thought he was dead. I mourned for him — I got over it. And now, now he’s back — the great hero returned. He’s not the father I thought he was — the one that should have been there for me.” Ryann turned to leave the hangar, “It was a lie. It was all a damn lie.”
Without really knowing how, Ryann found himself down in the maintenance section, his black mood worse than ever. He walked aimlessly, just trying to find somewhere on the ship that wasn’t filled with the bustle of personnel. As he passed the entrance to a row of utility pods an idea came to him and he smiled grimly to himself.
He stopped, glancing about to check that nobody was looking. Then, with a deep breath, he ducked inside the nearest pod, closing the hatch quietly behind him.
He checked the controls, keying in his clearance code. As he suspected, Grayell had carried out his threat of rescinding Ryann’s flight privileges; he was locked out of all spacecraft and shuttles. But to Ryann’s satisfaction the little utility pod, built for light maintenance duties, wasn’t in the same security classification as the shuttles. He felt a sense of smug satisfaction as the craft’s systems came online.
In a few moments, he was easing the pod away from its docking port and out into the vast open space of the Defiance’s interior. He picked his way through the chaos of the refugee fleet where columns of black smoke still rose up from a few of the vessels. Everywhere was movement and frantic activity. Ghost-Runner ships, alongside automated utility vessels were attempting to tow the hundreds of craft into some sort of order. Already, many of the larger ships were anchored to the central station, with the smaller craft branching out from them. They had cleared a corridor to the exit tunnel now, so that the Ghost-Runner fighters could launch if necessary. But at present the towering gates were sealed shut.
He found himself coming out of the main concentration of ships, and as their numbers thinned he spied the far interior wall of the Defiance through the smoke and gloom. He steered the little maintenance vessel towards an orange light that blinked rhythmically, marking one of the many utility docking ports.
Several minutes later, Ryann found himself high up on the outer hull of the Defiance, looking out from an observation window. He had a spectacular view of the cratered surface of the broken moon, and there, tantalisingly close, the Luminal wreck beyond.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A SONG OF THE DEAD
The observation window gave Ryann a panoramic view of the broken moon. Its lava flows cast a fiery glow and clouds of smoke belched from its torn and ravaged surface.
And there, dominating the scene like some vast monolith, was the towering shape of the Luminal wreck. Its hull had split in two, revealing the torn floors of hundreds of interior levels, like a cross-section through some immense city.
Far from being a lifeless derelict as his father had suggested, waves of electricity still played intermittently over its obsidian hull.
Ryann stared in fascination, awestruck. He thought he could make out rooms and corridors in the brief electrical flashes of the dying ship.
He was drunk with a desire to walk those corridors, to touch the hull he had felt such a connection to, that he had obsessed over for almost three years.
The sound of the woman’s voice in the transmission went around in his head, over and over. The fear, stark in her every word had taken hold of him; no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t reconcile his hatred for the vessel that had destroyed his homeworld with that frightened voice.
He peered through the dust cloud, straining to discern any more detail.
He rubbed his tired eyes. For a moment he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a figure standing upon the precipice of a ruptured floor level. He squinted, wiping at the condensation from his breath upon the window.
A light flashed briefly on and off and he was certain that he spied the figure once again. There was too much cloud and debris floating in the chasm between the two craft to get a better view, but he was sure that it was the woman that he had seen in his dreams; she seemed to glow, illuminating the darkness with a pale blue phosphorescence. The light flashed on and off once more — three short flashes as though she were signalling him with a flashlight.
But then, a wave of vapour billowed up from the boiling surface of the moon, entwining the great wreck like a shroud, obscuring it from view.
Ryann stepped back from the window in shock, the spell broken. Instinctively, he turned towards the docking bay, eager to return to his father and convey the news of his discovery.
But then he paused, as the familiar wave of anger washed over him at the memory of their latest argument, and he turned back towards a nearby airlock door. He found himself perfectly balanced, paralysed with indecision. He looked back out across the boiling clouds to the ephemeral shape of the Luminal derelict.
With a quiet curse, he strode over to a locker beside the airlock and grabbed an emergency helmet from the rack. He pulled it roughly over his head, hearing a hiss of air as it sealed against the collar ring of his flight suit. He punched in an access code to the weapons cabinet alongside the locker and pulled out a rifle and a handful of energy packs. Clipping the gun to the back of his suit, he opened up the inner airlock
door and stepped inside.
He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, blocking out the racing thoughts in his mind. If he couldn’t take a shuttle to that Luminal, then he would have to find another way. All the different voices competed to be heard. He imagined Angelique’s disbelief as she argued with him for being so reckless — such an immature young boy! And Mellarnne’s voice — he would be serious, overly-cautious, old. Just like his father: dismissive in that tone designed solely to humiliate, to keep him in his place.
Ryann heard the air being drawn from the airlock as it depressurised — the red light flashing rhythmically along to a warning tone.
He wasn’t being naive, he thought desperately. Reckless perhaps, but he knew that he would never get a chance like this again. He was so close. That Luminal ship could hold the key to understanding everything about them. Hadn’t his father been reckless? When he reached out to make contact with that luminous being he and Mellarnne had taken aboard their ship at the very beginning of all of this. But hadn’t that act proved fundamental in their understanding of this enemy? There were so many more questions that needed answering and here was a golden opportunity for the taking.
His father had based this whole war upon one brief moment of contact with a Luminal drone. What if they could contact this woman from the distress signal? He was convinced that message was a plea for help. And now the sight of that figure signalling to him from the wreckage confirmed it. He had no doubt, this was too important. And he wasn’t going to let his father’s caution stand in his way.
He jumped, opening his eyes as the outer airlock door slid open with a jolt. He stepped tentatively out on to a loading platform about four metres square.
He took a few nervous steps towards the edge, gazing about in awe.
The moon’s surface below was mostly hidden from view by swirling vapours, but he could make out dull orange patches lighting up the clouds where the rocks glowed red.
