“Then the closest ships are still weeks away?” Anyon settled into a chair. He rubbed at his face, which glistened with sweat.
“As far as we know. The destroyer-class ships, at least. We have no way of detecting or destroying their scout class ships.” She leaned against the wall between two blank screens. “Bain, I wanted you to stay so you'd understand and not spread half-baked stories among the children.”
“Maybe he shouldn't say anything,” Anyon said. “Why frighten them?”
“Ignorance is more dangerous than fear,” she returned. “Bain, plague bombs hit some farms. No one knew until people started falling sick this morning. Four are dead already. Twenty sick. Another hundred suspected infections. Governor Cowrun is sending more children with us, and samples of infected plant and animal tissue to give the scientists at Refuge planet. Any questions?”
“I thought the Mashrami weren't near any Knaught Points leading here,” Bain said. It was the first thing he could think of clearly.
“There—see?” Lin glared at Anyon, as if it was his fault Bain hadn't understood. “Ignorance at work. How can this planet prepare for attack if they don't think Mashrami ships can reach them? What else, Bain?” she continued, before Anyon could respond.
“Why did they bomb the farms?” the boy asked. “It makes more sense to bomb the space port and factories.”
“Strategic thinking.” She nodded, giving him a ghost of a smile. “Maybe they're trying to distract us? Maybe starve us, by destroying our farm workers and food animals? But we can always ship in food and medicine while the port exists, so in the long run the plague bomb is only a nuisance. It would be more effective to destroy our space port workers and ship crews. We'd be unable to defend ourselves or send for help. If crews were infected, the disease could spread to other worlds.”
“The Mashrami don't think like us, do they?”
“No, they do not.” Anyon turned in the chair to face Bain and Lin. “The captain is making a point to me, while teaching you. You're missing one vital piece of data. We think the Mashrami don't manufacture machines—they grow them.”
“What does that do to the theory of reasons for attack?” Lin asked.
“They don't know what our space port is?” Bain ventured. “Maybe their ships are alive?”
“We think so.” Lin settled into the other chair. “We think our farms worry them more than heavy industry.”
“They think we're growing ships?” Bain shook his head. The images and ideas in his imagination amazed him. “How come everybody keeps things secret from kids?” he blurted.
“Supposedly to protect you.” Lin gestured at the galley. “Finish making supper for the rest. We have more work to do before we can launch.”
“I'll tell the Valgos,” Anyon said and left the bridge.
Bain welcomed the quiet. The hum of monitors and the heater, and the tapping of keys as Lin worked soothed the thoughts racing around in his head. He finished heating the food and went down to the hold.
Everybody worked hard, installing the new bunk frames and stasis chairs that had arrived. Bain passed out the food packs. The other children took them with grins and laughter. They thought it was all a great adventure. Bain thought about plague bombs and dead people and organic ships. He kept quiet and took the wrappers up to the bridge to dispose of them.
“Ganfer, can I ask you something?” he asked. The bridge was empty—Lin had gone out through the hatch and left it open. The night outside was black and warm and full of streaks from work lights.
“What worries you, Bain?” Ganfer's voice sounded deeper, softer, like Bain's father sounded when he helped Bain say his prayers before bed.
“The captain didn't say if I could tell the other kids or not.”
“Maybe she's leaving that decision to you.”
“Why?”
“To teach you to think for yourself. Lin says, if we don't learn to think, we never grow.”
“What do you—“ Bain stopped before he asked Ganfer what to do. Think for himself, the ship-brain had said.
“Maybe it wouldn't be good for the other kids to know?”
“How would you feel if you didn't know?”
“Less scared,” the boy admitted. He finished feeding the wrappers into the recycling slot. “Ganfer, Captain Lin didn't argue with Governor Cowrun about taking the plague samples, did she?”
“No. She volunteered.”
“She only argues when it's not important, then?”
“I think Lin argues for fun, but never when lives are at stake. Evacuating you children is important.” Ganfer chuckled, surprising Bain again. “Lin and Governor Cowrun could not be friends if they didn't argue.”
Bain decided it was better to think over what Ganfer said, rather than ask for an explanation.
Chapter Seven
Bain returned to the hold as the other eight children arrived. Everyone scrambled to choose a bunk, arguing, sometimes pushing each other off the rungs of the frames. Bain's bag sat in a corner, smashed, with dusty footprints all over it. He stayed in the hatch and watched. This was a worse mess than a morning when everyone was late for classes. He felt sorry for Anyon and the Valgos. They moved among the struggling, pushing, arguing children, trying to quiet the screams and stop the pushing and shoving before someone got hurt. Bain couldn't hear anything they said.
“Quiet! And I mean now!” Lin bellowed. She stood framed in the open cargo hatch, port lights bright behind her. Shoulders hunched, hands on her hips, she turned her head slowly to survey the bickering children. To Bain's delight, the fighting slowed and stopped in only a few seconds. He was glad Lin hadn't had to yell at him.
Then he saw Toly Gaber in the top hammock at the end by the ramp. Bain felt his stomach knot around his sandwich.
“This is my ship and you will follow my orders or I will keep everyone in stasis for the whole trip.” Lin took two steps into the hold. She saw Bain and winked at him. “Except for meals and sanitary breaks, of course,” she added, her voice relaxing a little.
She didn't smile. Bain remembered what Lin said about growling so there was no need to bite.
“Now,” Lin continued, “the first rule is, no yelling from any passengers. If you yell, you won't hear me yell when there's an emergency. The second rule is, obey the Valgos and Dr. Anyon or I decide your punishment.” She jabbed her chest with her thumb as she spoke, hunched her shoulders and glared around the hold.
A few children cringed. Bain was delighted to see Toly go pale, wrap his arms around himself and shiver. Maybe now Toly wouldn't get away with any nasty tricks.
“We're launching in an hour,” she went on. “Stow your gear and choose your beds now. Everyone has to take a trip to the sanitary whether they need it or not. I want everyone in their stasis chairs, securely strapped in before I start the countdown. Now, since you can't choose your bunks without starting a war, I'll choose them for you. Boys at this end, girls by the inner hatch, oldest in the top bunks, littles in the bottom.” She gave the Valgos a half-smile. “I can let you two choose your own bunks, I hope?”
“Aye, Captain.” Master Valgo sketched her a salute. His face muscles twitched. Mistress Valgo hid her face against the sleeping baby she held. Bain realized they both fought not to smile.
Slowly, silently, some cringing under Lin's watchful glare, children climbed down from the bunks and let go of each other. They dragged their bags after them and started to organize themselves as ordered.
The Valgos put the babies in the bottom hammocks. They put their gear in the middle two racks. The girls took hardly any time to organize and choose their bunks. They had all climbed up, stowed their gear and climbed down to line up in front of the sanitary cabinet before half the boys figured out what to do.
“Bain.” Lin's voice startled him. She stood in the open hatch, hands on her hips, watching the children work. “Better choose your bunk and get set.”
He could already see where he would have to sleep if the boys
went by age and height. Right next to Toly. Bain imagined thousands of nasty tricks the bully would pull on him in the middle of the night, when no one could see.
“I'll help with the littles, if you want,” he said. Bain told himself it wouldn't be that bad.
“Thank you, Bain,” Mistress Valgo said. “We will need some help with the younger ones.”
“He's scared of being high up,” Toly said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
A few boys snickered. Bain felt his face get hot. It was hard not to look at them. He wanted to stick his tongue out and make faces or throw something to make them shut up.
“I'm not sleeping on a top bunk, either,” Mistress Valgo went on, without turning to look at the boys. “I don't think that makes me afraid. Bain, are you sure you want all that responsibility?” She spoke loud enough to be heard over the grinding and humming sounds of port machinery, heard through the open cargo hatch.
“Well, it's going to be boring when we're not doing lessons, right?” Bain asked.
“Somewhat.” Anyon exchanged a look with Lin that Bain didn't quite catch. “It's nice to see some of you are starting to grow up. Who else will volunteer to help with the littles?”
Shari and two other girls raised their hands. Bain grinned at Shari—until more snickers came from Toly and his friends. Bain felt his face get hotter. Couldn't he do anything without getting teased about it?
“We're going to need all the help we can get,” Master Valgo said. “Why don't you four bunk around here?” He gestured at four hammocks in the middle.
“They might as well be crew, not passengers,” Lin said. She nodded to Bain and her smile made him feel good. “We're launching in thirty,” she added, glancing at the children lined up to use the sanitary. “That means I want everyone in their chairs in twenty minutes.”
She started across the hold to go to the bridge. The cargo hatch began to close behind her. She met Bain halfway. Lin squeezed his shoulder as she passed him, and winked. The laughter of the other boys hurt less.
“Captain likes you,” one of the littlest boys said when Bain got in line behind him to use the sanitary. He leaned against Bain and grinned up at him. He had red curls and freckles, a bandage on his chin and two teeth missing. Awe made his blue eyes bright.
“I do, too,” a tiny girl added, her voice almost a whisper. She grinned at Bain and smothered a giggle behind her hands. “I'm glad you're gonna be by us. The other big boys are mean.”
Bain saw other little ones smile at him. He remembered what Lin said about helping the children not feel so afraid. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, helping with the littles. At least they wouldn't pick on him or play nasty tricks.
Soon, everyone had their bags stowed and took trips to the sanitary cabinet. Bain had to help two little boys unfasten their pants to use the sanitary. If he hadn't, they might never have got strapped into their stasis chairs in time. Maybe it wasn't so nice to have littles depend on him, but he thought he could handle it.
Bain had to help buckle some children into their stasis chairs. Two children, brother and sister twins, kept unbuckling each other the moment Bain turned his back. They laughed, but Bain wanted to spank them.
“One minute to launch,” Ganfer said.
Bain could hardly hear him because the other children yelled and laughed and shrieked even after Anyon told them to be quiet. A loud hum vibrated the hold as the engines came on. Some children quieted, but others shrieked louder.
“Better strap in,” the doctor said. He nodded at Bain. “Good job—and thanks.” He settled into a chair in the middle of the front row and buckled his own safety straps. Anyon had a control board on his chair, to override the stasis chairs if something went wrong. Bain had checked those controls. He hoped Anyon wouldn't need to use them.
Bain turned to find a seat for himself. For a few seconds, he couldn't see any empty chairs. He thought his heart would stop, it scared him so badly. Did someone count wrong and not send enough stasis chairs?
Then he saw an empty space at the other end of the back row. Bain ran around the front side. The ship engines started with a grumble that rose to a roar, like a wild animal chased him.
“Hurry,” Mistress Valgo said. She smiled at him as he passed, then put her arm around a crying little girl.
Bain nearly tripped over a bench. He kicked it once, then hurried to his chair. Toly tried to trip him. He stuck his tongue out at Bain. Two boys laughed.
Bain grabbed the safety belt and turned to throw himself into his chair. He paused, feeling the deck plates vibrate hard enough to tickle right through his boots.
Something smelled sour. He turned around and looked at the chair. Someone had been sick all over the seat. It smelled like the food had rotted three days before. Bain clamped both hands over his mouth and nose to keep from smelling the sour stink.
“What's the matter, Spacer?” Toly yelled behind him. The other boys snickered. Bain turned fast and caught Toly trying to kick him in the back. He missed.
The belt kept the bully in his chair. Bain grinned and knew he could hit Toly and the bully couldn't chase him. He clenched his fist and pulled his arm back.
“Fifteen seconds,” Ganfer said.
“Bain, get in your chair!” Mistress Valgo called from the end of the row.
“Ronny did it,” Shari said. She sat in the next row. She put her arm around little Ronny, who looked white and sick, with tears in his eyes. “Toly scared him and made him throw up.” She glanced at the puddle of vomit in the chair. “I'm sorry, Bain. I didn't think about cleaning it up.”
“Five seconds,” Ganfer said. “Stasis field coming on.”
Bain yelped and leaped backwards, away from the row of chairs. Green-yellow light came down from the ceiling and up from the floor and the arms and backs of the chairs. It covered everyone, freezing them in place. Toly stopped with his mouth open and eyes closed. The fat bully looked stupid.
“Four.” Ganfer's voice sounded loud, echoing in the hold. No one moved or made a sound.
Bain ran. He didn't know where he was going. The lights in the hold flickered. The rumbling roar of the engines got louder, making the whole ship shake. The rumble rose in pitch, turning into a rising shriek.
Bain burst onto the bridge and skidded on the deck before he ran into the empty chair at the control panel.
“Lin—the boy. One,” Ganfer said. “Engaging lift thrusters.”
“Bain?” Lin turned to him, her mouth hanging open, eyes wide. She looked so scared she looked funny. Bain felt too sick and scared to laugh. “Sit down!” She grabbed his arm and yanked him over the back of the chair. His rear end hit the padded seat and she slung the safety strap around him.
Something went pop inside his head, making his ears tickle. The shriek of the engines vanished. Bain heard nothing. He saw Lin's mouth moving, but heard no words. He yanked on the buckle of the safety strap and pulled it tight enough to hurt. Lin smiled and patted his arm, her hand heavy and slow. She leaned back in her chair. The skin on her face rippled, like water on a pond in a heavy wind. She closed her eyes. Bain closed his eyes and felt his skin rippling without anything touching it.
It felt like the whole ship sat on him. Bain couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He was afraid to open his eyes—maybe he couldn't open them, either. The chair bucked and heaved under him, trying to lift to the ceiling, but his body wanted to stay down. Something pressed against him, pulling his clothes and skin tight. It was like a wind pressed against him, but he couldn't feel the wind, just the pressure.
It didn't hurt. Bain wanted to laugh when he realized it didn't hurt. It only felt heavy. Then he could breathe again. He wondered if Lin had a stasis field in the bridge after all, holding them still and safe against the pressure of launch.
Something pressed on his ears, inside his head. Bain tried to swallow. It felt like when he went to the mountains and his ears got full and everything sounded muffled and far away. Swallowing made them pop and helped adjust the a
ir pressure. Bain managed to swallow—he sweated from trying so hard. His ears didn't pop or clear.
The rumble came back. Soft, like a cat purring on the other side of the room. Bain heard a clicking sound. He opened his eyes. His face felt stiff for a second. He swallowed again—and yelped when his ears popped loud. It felt like something slithered around inside his ears and fell down his throat. Fortunately, he didn't get sick.
“Not so bad, is it?” Lin asked. She chuckled, but it sounded like she had a sore throat.
Bain opened his eyes. Lin leaned over the control panel, pressing keys, her gaze on the screens before her.
Two screens showed views of space. Three more screens were full of graphics—color computer simulation pictures of the ship leaving the planet's atmosphere. The other screens were full of numbers and graphs and bouncing dots and waving lines.
“It's over?” Bain's voice squeaked, but he didn't care. So this was what a working Spacer bridge looked like.
“The worst part.” Lin kept watching the screens. “I'm leaving the stasis field on until we're in true space. We're still in atmosphere, you know, not free of the planet. Just out of the worst of the gravity. Until we break orbit, things could get bumpy without warning.”
“You're going into orbit, to build up speed and slingshot away?” he guessed.
“Very good. You do know proper break-away procedures, don't you?”
“My father taught me.” Bain smiled, proud that he remembered, proud that Lin noticed.
“Did he also tell you how dangerous it is to disobey orders? You should be in the hold in the stasis field with the others.” Lin still didn't look at him. Bain was positive she was angry with him now. Her face looked stiff, like it would break if she smiled or frowned.
“Yes, Ma'am,” he mumbled.
“Want to tell me why you're not in the hold?”
“I didn't have a seat.”
“Funny.” Her voice didn't sound like she thought it was funny. “I thought we had enough chairs for everyone.”
“Ronny threw up in it. Toly scared him on purpose. He does it all the time.”
Sunsinger Page 4
