Sunsinger

by Michelle Levigne

  “Hey, take it easy.” He scowled, which made the other little children laugh.

  “If you're hungry, you should eat more,” a fat little boy said.

  “I use more food than you,” Bain retorted. “Now, do you want me to finish my story or not?”

  “Bain, come to the bridge,” Ganfer said.

  The littles stared at the collar. Bain laughed at their surprise. No one had heard Ganfer speak from his collar before, or seen the lights flash with his voice.

  “I have to go.” Bain reached up to the bunk above him and swung out. He caught the bar with his foot and pushed toward the hatch.

  Lin wasn't on the bridge when Bain got there. The curtain of her cubicle hung open; she wasn't inside. Bain saw the door leading to the dome hung open. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt his stomach twist in delighted fear. Time to go through the Knaught Point already? He almost dug out a roll of tape for his mouth. Bain told himself not to be stupid, and started the climb to the dome.

  When he reached the top of the ladder, Bain held on and stared. Colors filled the dome instead of the usual black space and white-hot points of stars. Color streaked space, everywhere he looked. Swirls like tiny whirlpools of rainbow-colored mud. Lightning flashes changed color in time with the beats of his heart. Pinwheels tried to pull him out of the ship with their tight spinning. Blues and greens melted together and turned into purples, changing into reds and yellows and greens again.

  There were colors he never saw before. Something he thought was blue shifted into whitish-rosy-green a moment later. It hurt his eyes to watch, but he couldn't turn his head away or even blink. His heart thudded and he wanted to turn somersaults and laugh until he couldn't breathe.

  “It takes a while to get used to,” Lin said. Her voice cut into the dizzy feeling that filled his head. Bain looked down at her and felt like he had awakened from a dream. “Get down here and get strapped in, before you look again.”

  “You could have warned him,” Ganfer said, his voice coming from their collars.

  “It wouldn't have helped. Better to be shocked and learn the hard way.” Lin watched Bain float down from the ceiling. She held out a hand to help him angle into the couch. “Look again, but this time only watch. Don't let it catch your mind.” She smiled at him and Bain thought Lin knew exactly what had happened to him.

  He strapped in, getting settled into the couch and secure before he turned his eyes to the maelstrom of colors filling the dome. The spinning and flashes and odd shift of colors didn't catch his attention and freeze his mind now.

  “Color is the key,” Lin said. “Psychologists say colors do things to our minds. If you listen to the music of space and pay attention to the messages in the colors, you can navigate the Knaught Points.”

  “How?” He decided if Lin talked, they hadn't reached the do-not-speak zone.

  “Watch and figure it out for yourself. Ask Fi'in to help you learn. Each person has a different way of seeing.” Lin squeezed his hand and turned back to her control board. “Silence zone in five seconds.”

  Bain fought an urge to clamp both hands over his mouth. He watched Lin work the controls. Her right hand flew up and down and across the flashing lights and clicking levers. She held onto the joystick with her left hand and ran everything else with her right. The joystick controlled their angle of entry into the Knaught Point.

  Lin watched the dome, her head tilted to see the colors over their heads and the spinning fireworks directly in front of them. Bain watched the colors, trying to figure out how the patterns matched Lin's adjustments on the control board. It didn't take long, twisting back and forth, to get a sore neck. How was he supposed to learn if he couldn't see everything at once?

  Then he felt music. He stopped breathing for a few seconds. How could he feel music in his bones without hearing it with his ears?

  It sounded like his heartbeat, soft in his ears late at night, when he camped out in the damp, cool springtime. Bain thought the music was his own pulse, then he felt and heard other pulses. Something high-pitched and sweet joined in, carrying him high, reaching to the stars. He had to look down at the couch to be sure the safety straps had not let go. He felt light-headed, like just after a fever broke or he breathed too fast. Bain wanted to giggle. He pressed a hand over his mouth and felt a tingling through his fingers.

  His whole body throbbed in waves like an incoming tide. He tasted the music, sweet and ripe and warm in his mouth. Minty and cool. Tangy and tingling on his tongue and sliding down his throat into his whole body. He breathed deeply and felt the pulsing fill his lungs, sending new energy through his whole body.

  Bain bit his lips to make sure he wasn't singing along with the music. Even the sting of his teeth in his flesh had a tingling, wonderful feeling. He felt like he could run forever, and if he jumped he could fly, zipping through space faster than a comet.

  He watched the colors change with the music. The colors were the music. Bain thought of the children in the hold. They didn't know what was happening. He felt sorry for them, even Toly Gaber.

  Sunsinger moved toward the center of the spinning, twisting, shifting colors. Rainbows spun up and died, turning silver and gold and the dark brown of soil in the rain. Bain saw silver flashing spots inside the spinning, like little doors opening and closing in the darkness, letting light out.

  Those flashes were the spots where a ship could make the transfer to another solar system. They were doors, into other places. He watched them, trying to guess which spot was their target.

  Under the music, he heard Lin's voice. He heard Ganfer responding. Bain felt the ship gather speed, like a runner pushing extra hard just before the finish line. Sunsinger was alive. He clenched the armrests under his hands and tried to help the ship leap through the Knaught Point.

  One flashing spot in the rainbow whirlpool grew larger. It leaped from the sparkling colors and opened wide and swallowed them.

  Normal space returned. Bain stared at the black and white of stars and space filling the dome, and it didn't make any sense. His body felt heavy and weak. His lungs ached. He realized he held his breath. He took a breath and the heavy, hurting feeling left.

  “Well, what do you think?” Lin whispered. Her voice sounded harsh and loud. The dome was filled with silence that rang like gongs. The music was gone.

  “I want to go back!” he yelped, and his voice hurt his ears. Bain wanted to cry.

  “We will.” Lin touched his hand. For a moment, a tingling passed through her fingers to him. Bain looked into her eyes and he saw that she felt hurting and hungry too.

  * * * *

  When they finished checking Sunsinger for damage, Bain felt better. He only had to close his eyes and concentrate to remember the colors, the feeling of energy moving through his body. He could almost hear the music, low and sweet and filling his blood. Neither he nor Lin talked much and he knew she wanted to hold onto the memories as long as she could. Talking would only fade the feelings faster.

  They made supper and he was surprised when Lin brought out twice as much food as needed. Then, his stomach growled and twisted tight. He felt like he hadn't eaten in days, maybe weeks. They didn't say much during supper. They were too busy eating, getting the food into their mouths as quickly as they could.

  “It's always like this,” Lin said, when she made hot chocolate for dessert. “All that energy wakes us up, cleans out our heads, makes us more alive and uses up our energy. You liked it, didn't you?”

  “Liked it?” Bain thought he would choke. He stared at Lin, feeling helpless, until she grinned at him.

  “It's all right. Some things are better left to feelings and memories.” She chuckled, tilted her head to one side and studied him a few seconds. “Think you can take another jump soon?”

  “How soon?” he blurted. His eagerness made her laugh. Bain didn't care.

  “Maybe an hour. This section of space is full of Knaught Points, all fairly close together. It's a good place for Free Traders
to meet and share news.” Lin stood and stretched her arms to the ceiling, arching her back. “Why don't you get down to the hold for a few minutes of exercise? You need to stretch, to get the jitters out of your muscles before the next jump. And you can tell your friends what they missed,” she added with a grin. “But don't brag.”

  Bain laughed, despite her warning. He had a mental image of Shari and the littles listening to him, awe on their faces, their mouths hanging open. He wanted to share all his wonderful feelings with them. He didn't care if Toly got jealous, either.

  “Alert,” Ganfer said. His voice sounded flat and harsh, like a hammer hit dented, rusty sheets of metal. It drove all the laughter from Bain's body and left him cold. “Unidentified ship approaching from unregistered angle.”

  “What does that mean?” Bain asked. He slid from the booth and followed Lin to the control panel.

  “Someone who doesn't use the normal routes between Knaught points.” Lin slid into the chair and held onto it with her legs bent up underneath. Her fingers flew over the control panel and she studied three screens on the wall in front of her. “Ganfer—Mashrami?”

  “Percentage of probability is high and climbing.” The ship-brain sounded apologetic.

  “Increase speed. Prepare for emergency braking routine. Hit Knaught Point destination at deflection angle.” Lin pushed out of the chair and banked off the ceiling. She headed for the passage to the dome. “We don't want them to know which point we're heading for,” she called back.

  Bain followed. His supper sat heavy in his stomach and he wanted to go to the sanitary and lose it. He pushed off the floor with his legs and flew up to the dome so fast, he bounced off the ceiling and almost went down again before he caught hold of the ladder. Lin was already in her couch, fingers flying over the control panel.

  “Anyon, evasive maneuvers,” she said, her voice tight and loud. “Get everyone in stasis.” A muted response came from the people in the hold. Someone cried in the background.

  Bain swallowed hard to fight a whimper of fear. Stasis was only used for emergencies. He maneuvered into the couch and strapped in. He didn't watch the dome because he didn't want to get lost in the colors and the feelings. It wasn't right to feel good when they were in danger.

  He wondered what it felt like to get hit by Mashrami weapons.

  Lin said nothing to Ganfer. Her face was a stone mask of concentration. No fear. No anger. Bain watched her and didn't have time to feel fear. He watched her right hand move in blurs across the control panel. Her left hand clutched the joystick until her knuckles turned white.

  “Braking thrusters,” she said. Her voice sounded jagged, like someone had hit it with a stick and it shattered like pottery.

  Bain felt like a wall hit him, pushing him flat into the couch. He couldn't breathe. His body doubled and tripled its weight. Then the feeling vanished. He looked through the dome and among the colors saw a flashing point. Close to it was another flash of white/black/silver.

  Sunsinger twisted sideways. The dome spun around Bain and he felt dizzy, ready to lose his supper. He watched the two flashing points twist past and vanish. Another flash appeared, grew wide, opened up and swallowed them.

  Normal space reappeared with a jolt that shook the ship. Bain heard nothing but his own heart beating. He remembered to breathe. He shook like he had gone outside in winter without his coat.

  “Are we safe?” he whispered to Lin.

  “Safe?” Her voice still sounded broken. She leaned over the board, fingers flying, studying the little rows of numbers like a parade of ants across her screen. “We're safe and the ship is still in one piece.” Lin smiled with only half her mouth. “I just don't know where we are.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Toly had a broken arm. He had ignored the order to get into the stasis chairs and stayed in his bunk. The adults were too busy herding the other children into their seats to notice.

  When the ship started jerking and twisting through space, Toly got scared and unfastened his net and tried to climb out. He hit his face against the bunk frame and got a black eye and cut his forehead. When the ship's gravity tripled, Toly fell from his bunk. His tether line snapped. He hit the opposite wall of the hold with his arm twisted under him. The shock of his arm breaking knocked him unconscious.

  Bain found him, when he and Lin went to the hold to turn off the stasis field and check for damage. He had a hand-size scanner to check the hatch seals and life support. Bain floated around the edges of the hold, checking the readings on the screen. He heard a moan and looked. For a second, he thought it was a pile of cloth in the corner. Then he saw the blood and Toly's pale face. Bain shouted for Lin.

  “Oh, wonderful,” Lin whispered, when she floated over and saw Toly curled up against the wall. “Third button on the back changes the scanner to medical,” she said, and went to get Anyon. The doctor was just getting free of the stasis field.

  Bain found the broken arm and confirmed nothing else was wrong before Lin and Anyon joined him.

  The next half hour passed in a fast blur. Bain freed the Valgos from the stasis field so they could take care of the other children. Then he flitted around the hold, opening cabinets, checking supplies, fetching pain pills and splints, and fixing Toly's tether.

  He was glad Toly screamed in pain when they moved him to work on his arm. He was glad to see the bully cry. He was jealous of the sympathy Lin showed the nasty boy.

  “It's not fair,” he muttered. Bain floated in the hatch, watching Mistress Valgo settle Toly into his bunk, his arm splinted and the cuts on his face bandaged. The other children were quiet, still frightened from the chase. They stayed in their bunks and watched.

  “What's not fair?” Ganfer asked, his voice coming soft from the collar.

  “Toly's been so rotten, and when he gets hurt Lin treats him nice.”

  “Hurt is hurt.” The ship-brain sounded amused and that irritated Bain. “Maybe he's learned to obey orders. Maybe now he knows there are reasons for rules.”

  “But—” Bain shook his head. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, or even what he really felt.

  “Fi'in says it doesn't mean anything to only be good to good people. What does that prove? What is harder, Bain? To be nice to your friends, or be nice to the people who hurt you? What helps you grow stronger? To forgive someone who apologizes and wants to make up for hurting you? Or forgive someone who is glad they hurt you?”

  “It isn't worship day,” the boy grumbled. “Don't preach at me.”

  “Lin says every day is worship day,” Ganfer said.

  “Bain?” Lin called from the other side of the hold. For a moment, Bain was afraid she had heard what he said to Ganfer. He knew Lin would be disappointed in his attitude and words. “We're all finished down here. Time to see what happened outside.” She moved to the hatch with Anyon and Master Valgo and gestured for Bain to follow them.

  Maybe he couldn't feel sorry for Toly's broken arm, but Bain knew he could be glad he wasn't a bully. Bain could be glad that Lin liked him and treated him like crew.

  * * * *

  “There it is.” Lin lifted her chin, gesturing at the center screen. Her hands danced over the control panel.

  Anyon and Master Valgo floated in the air behind her seat, holding onto the back of the chair. Bain sat next to her in his usual place. He had tried to give his chair to the men, but neither one would take it.

  On the screen, a long, tapered shape crossed the hazy blob of light and color that was the Knaught Point at long distance. It was mostly black, with a soft, orange glow around the edges and an uneven outline, like tiny bumps covered it. No sharp angles.

  Ganfer played the sensor recording Sunsinger made when they approached the Knaught Point. The shape that moved before their eyes didn't look like any ship Bain ever saw before. Not even in his father's records and journals and computer chips left by his grandmother. It didn't have sensor disks or power ports or exhaust vents; nothing that looked like energy col
lectors or armaments. Lin said it was a Mashrami ship.

  “What does it look like to you?” Lin asked quietly, after the four studied the frozen image on the screen for many long, silent moments.

  “A sting-yam.” Bain blushed when both men started chuckling. “Well, it does. It even looks all warty.”

  “No, we're not laughing at you,” Master Valgo said. “That was my reaction, too, when I first saw a Mashrami ship. That supports the idea Mashrami ships are grown, not built.”

  “Which makes us believe the warts are weapon and energy ports. Poison spots, just like in a sting-yam,” Anyon said, his voice soft. Bain saw the doctor stare at the screen just like he stared at a nasty wound or broken limb he had to fix. No emotions, just heavy concentration that blocked everything else around him.

  “At least they didn't follow us through,” Bain offered. He had done a sensor check to reinforce Ganfer's readings. Their instruments said space was clear around them. Empty. Nowhere to hide, but no enemies to hide from, either.

  “No one could follow us through.” Lin's voice cracked. Bain couldn't tell if she was angry, or trying not to laugh. “We shifted and shimmied right up to the entry point. Could take days to calculate where we are. I've never been to this part of the galaxy. I doubt anyone else has, either.”

  “Why?” Bain asked.

  “Because if anyone had come through from that Knaught Point, Ganfer should recognize it from records. Spacers don't hoard information. That's a bad habit that usually gets innocent people hurt,” Anyon said.

  “If someone made the jump...” Master Valgo shivered and turned from the screen. “If someone came through and didn't survive to make a report, this could be a dangerous visit.”

  “What do you think, Bain?” Lin asked, her voice soft, like when she had finished her morning prayers.

  “Well...” He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the heavy feeling of three pairs of adult eyes watching him. “Nobody can sneak up on us if we stay right here, by the Knaught Point.”