Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3)

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Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3) Page 13

by Scott Rhine


  Nena nodded, hearing echoes of an earlier conversation. “Yes. She’ll be angry, but she’ll be alive. Z will make her see.” The betrayal of the kindest man she’d ever met made her bite her thumbnail like a teenager. For others to escape blame, they would paint him with every vile accusation. She wouldn’t lie, but she wouldn’t need to. Remaining silent would condemn him.

  In the end, it came down to one question. Horvath dialed Mori’s private line. When he answered the call, she could see the Chinese delegates in the room. However, he listened to the game console with an earphone.

  Without preamble, she hissed, “Conrad never touched your daughter, and you know it.”

  She barely noticed the communication delay when Mori replied, “Dr. Drang says the baby is healthy. My wife is with Kaguya, fulfilling her duties as a grandmother.”

  “You stole Red’s eggs! Why should I let you get away with that?”

  “Because the criminal Dr. Zeiss is the father of my grandchild, I might be able to prevail on my Chinese guests . . . to use their veto to take the death penalty off the table at his trial.”

  Inside, Nena seethed at the blackmail. The egg was already implanted; she couldn’t change that. The witch could still miscarry. “If I die, how do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “Mira Hollis just arrived. I’ve vouched for her identity to all present.”

  He knew everything. Damn. “Transfer the remainder of Red’s samples to the Mira Hollis you just mentioned.”

  “Done. We are in agreement?”

  “One big, happy family, you thieving bastard. None of you had better ever come into orbit.”

  To the others in the conference room, Mori announced, “She calls me an old fox, congratulates me on the new child, and submits to your terms. Let us celebrate by broadcasting the contents of the flight recorder on three of our international channels. Each country will be allowed to rebroadcast with its own subtitles.”

  Nena disconnected the phone call, unable to keep her face placid. “Daniel, it looks like we’re going to share a grandchild with the two people we hate most on Earth. I feel like I just made the same decision your dad would have, and it makes me want to shower.”

  Instead, she called the command bunker and told them the news: fewer L1 people to rescue, half the missiles, more protection, and refugees. Colonel Francis replied, “Damn, you’ve been busy.”

  After she hung up, she took off her clothes and slid into the bed with Daniel. She’d done everything she could. The universe would just have to take care of itself for a few hours.

  At T plus 10 hours, despite the brilliant lights in the sky, nothing disturbed her rest.

  Chapter 13 – Walking in the Garden

  Zeiss stared at the screen in wonder. “Moon base survived. Nothing penetrated their defenses this volley. A miracle worth celebrating.”

  Since that was Red’s real first name, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Stop taking my name in vain and get to work training Lou.”

  “Slave driver. Let me check in with Herk first.” Switching channels, Zeiss said, “Good news. Moon base lived to fight again another day. Cherub is making tracks back to L1; they should return to moon base just in time for the next wave. We have nine hours of relative peace.”

  Herk snorted. “Thank heaven for small miracles.”

  “I’m not that small,” said the five-foot-two-inch Red.

  Zeiss kissed her on the forehead.

  The act of affection was so instinctive, and so like her parents, that Mercy stared. Over the link, she cleared her throat and said, “We love the detail on the map. I can’t wait to print out a copy once I get done marking all the mass points.”

  “Ha,” said Herk. “All this high tech, and it doesn’t exist until we can touch it on paper.”

  Zeiss explained, “We’re penciling in the names as places are discovered.”

  Herk asked, “Like the Stairs of Mercy?”

  “I think she chose Default Helix 3, but I like yours better,” Red noted.

  “I’ll compromise: Zeppelin Point, in honor of your father,” Mercy suggested. Everyone agreed on the site of the stairway to the heavens. “I think Yvette called Crawfish Creek.”

  “And Twisted Knee Hill,” Herk replied with a chuckle. They heard a few choice French curses in the background.

  “Has the gravity stayed consistent?” asked Zeiss.

  “More or less. The river tends to stay in the overlap between fields, and we followed that.”

  Mercy said, “Away from the river, you can tell the level of gravity by the height of the plants.”

  “And north by the moss?” joked Herk.

  “No, the moss would tend to be on the mountainward side,” Zeiss corrected. “Although I can’t see getting lost in this little world.”

  “Are we going to name the ship?” asked Red. “Because I was first on board.”

  “You can use your wiles to convince me later,” Zeiss said with a grin. “Let Herk finish his report.”

  “We reached the mountain before the bombardment but haven’t located a cave yet. We took shelter in a deep hollow. The gravity at the low point measures about eight-tenths Earth standard. It’s comfortable and out of the wind. If we don’t find any caves, this would be a good colony site. We’ll store our boxes and the gimp here while we come back for the next load. Risa can stay and help Yvette put together the camp for us to sleep in tonight—estimated bedtime around T plus 20 hours.”

  “What, fixing up the bedroom is woman’s work?” demanded his wife from a position near his elbow.

  Still over the air, Herk defended his plan. “No, you’re a mechanical engineer, and Yvette’s camped more than all of us combined.”

  Zeiss interrupted the matrimonial bliss. “Be tucked in by T plus 19 hours in case we need to evade in a hurry. If they figure out our new location, there’ll be missiles coming our way, too. Over.”

  “Roger. We’ll call you when we’re in sight of Zeppelin Point so you can roll out the red carpet. I’ll bring you an apple from the orchard that we pass on the way.”

  When they disconnected, Red said, “Sanctuary.”

  “What?” asked Zeiss.

  “She wants to name the alien inversion fortress,” Mercy said, remembering her friend’s tenacity. “You know, a shelter from your enemies or a place to hide, usually named from the medieval code that said those fearing for their lives could take refuge inside a church.”

  Zeiss nodded. “This place does feel like the inner sanctum—almost sacred. Sure, babe. Sanctuary it is. Did you mean the saucer, or the whole place?”

  “The whole place. Mercy can name the saucer if she wants.”

  Mercy deferred. “I think Yuki should get some credit here.”

  Sojiro shouted, “Fortress of Solitude, Sky City 1000, or Angel Station.”

  The Japanese woman shook her head. “I’ll stay simple—baggage claim.”

  The manga artist feigned a yawn. “At least pick a name from mythology like Olympus. I’ll have to do a total rewrite for my manga.”

  “Maybe, let’s talk in private.”

  While Lou started his training session, Red taped the ship’s new name over the outside door. Mercy wished she could grab a few painkillers from Auckland. Eyestrain from repeated interface use had given her a headache.

  ****

  Lou threw up after his first attempt in the interface. Auckland rushed over to examine the patient.

  “Tons of high-tech equipment and not a trashcan in the place,” Zeiss noted.

  As the contents of Lou’s stomach floated in globules and drifted across the room, everyone looked at Mercy expectantly—perhaps because she’d already cleaned up after so many of them in the showers. Sighing, she grabbed an empty plastic bag from one of the storage rooms and went to work capturing the spinning gobbets.

  Yuki eventually helped out with a large, plastic cooking spoon. “You know, I have a master’s degree in electrical engineering.” She snagged a large chunk
before it struck the window. “I can disassemble and reassemble every piece of equipment I manage in my sleep.”

  Mercy grinned. “I’ll bet you played lacrosse, too.”

  “Tennis. The skirts are better,” Yuki retorted.

  Auckland said, “He has motion sickness. What were you doing?”

  “Simulations under the rubber sheet, trying to map the currents between here and our chosen planet,” Zeiss explained.

  “Everything in rapid motion. Some of the paths gone in an instant. It’s like trying to ride lightning,” Lou said, looking pale and about to heave again.

  “I’ll take him to the showers,” Yuki said, handing Mercy the spoon.

  Sojiro raised an eyebrow at the woman’s salivating enthusiasm. “I can help.”

  Zeiss shook his head. “You’re next in the snowflake. We have to get a handle on this interface. Lou’s right, it’s constantly shifting. The only fixed points are the giant suns at the anchor points. If you come out of the undergirding anywhere else, you need to hop back through the same hole as soon as possible, or risk being stranded sub-light for years.”

  “Why hop out at all?” Mercy asked.

  “To change threads and head a different direction,” Zeiss explained. “We also need to take in sunlight or all the plants could die.”

  “There’s no light underneath?”

  “We just don’t know. This ship is obviously designed to dive under the sheet. I’m guessing those submersions cause a period of extended night or even winter. Our course will need to take that into consideration. We don’t want the main ship to go below freezing. That means we’ll schedule the journey with more, shorter hops, which will take time. The first hop is the trickiest to plan.”

  “What about Alpha Centauri?” asked Sojiro. “It’s closest.”

  “The three orbiting stars make the equations too complex. We could come out too close to one of them and fry.”

  “How about Barnard’s Star?” Sojiro suggested. “At about six light-years, it’s close enough that we could coast home in under fifty years without using subspace. It’s very well behaved, and I hear it has a couple planets.”

  “The planets were disproven, which is probably why the Daedalus Project was canceled. Although the star is warm enough, the light might be too weak to sustain our biosphere.”

  “That leaves Tau Ceti, at almost twelve light-years—it’s plenty bright, and we know it has at least five planets.”

  “Couldn’t we aim somewhere reasonably stable and replan once we know more?” asked Red. “Like an airline hub?” Squinting at the overhead bubble, she said, “I think I see a couple candidates. Let me climb into the harness, and I’ll guide.”

  Auckland interrupted, “Not yet. Mercy did too much, too soon, and she paid with a migraine.”

  “Me, too,” admitted Zeiss, sheepishly.

  The doctor ordered, “Give Sojiro his turn on the spin-and-puke ride, and then you can take another shift. I’m limiting people to thirty minutes a session from now on. The computer output seems to be stimulating the optic nerve and parts of the brain directly, bypassing the eyes. You’re etching new neural connections at a phenomenal rate, utilizing parts of your mind we never suspected. I think caution is in order before you all burn out.”

  “Care for the lives of our planners could be part of the test,” suggested Sojiro.

  When Yuki and Lou were gone, Red whispered to the manga artist, “Why didn’t you want the spy taking Lou?”

  “She traded her naming rights for information about him. This room is now Olympus. When she took advantage of him so soon, I felt I owed him a little protection.”

  Mercy snorted. “It’s not like they’re going to do anything in the low-g shower.”

  People who were part of a couple looked away discreetly. Sojiro changed the subject. “What’s my mission, boss?”

  Zeiss replied, “The trickiest one of all in a chaotic branching system—the initial condition. I have no idea where we should enter subspace.”

  “This ship can do that?” Sojiro asked.

  “We’re already most of the way underwater, like a submarine with the periscope out. When we find the nexus, we can submerge the rest of the way, and the jet stream will take us. The exit points are more like holes in the arctic ice where we can metaphorically pop up for fresh air. We need the entry point before we can solve anything else.”

  “Isn’t that technique part of probability mechanics?”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much the only page talent we didn’t bring.” The way Zeiss glanced at Red was accusing. She’d been the one who insisted on bringing the absolute minimum number of Actives. Now they were working against the clock on a problem no one had the tools to solve elegantly. There were bound to be more alligators in this swamp caused by their undermanned state. He’d just have to survive the first hurdle before they could discover the next difficulty. Would the second problem prevent them from returning home? Or worse, would they be unable to leave subspace and freeze to death while streaking away from Earth at speeds so high that no one would ever be able to rescue them? He could already feel the headache building. “One We have 109 hours to invent a whole new discipline in mathematics.”

  ****

  No one had cracked the subspace navigation problem by T plus 18 hours. Everyone experienced minor headaches, and Mercy had a nosebleed. Yuki had been flirting with Lou when she noticed the trickle of red fluid seeping under her friend’s helmet. The technician triple-tapped Mercy’s helmet off before Auckland arrived.

  When the physician examined Mercy, he concluded, “No more till morning, for any of you. Red has raccoon eyes, and Z keeps bumping into things.”

  “Just a few spots in front of the eyes,” the commander mumbled. “Almost half of the incoming missiles have changed directions, tracking our orbit. We can’t stay here.”

  “But we don’t know where the transfer point is yet,” Sojiro replied.

  Yuki waved her hand. “That’s mathematician thinking—solve everything before doing anything. Technicians are more practical—close enough is good enough for now. Even the Ascension could lead those missiles away from moon base just a little faster than they can travel. Head out into the outer solar system at a gentle pace. Statistically, the entrances are most likely near the heavier planets, right? We’ll be heading in the most likely direction and luring killers away from our friends. Win-win.”

  Zeiss looked to Red. “Better idea—run the missiles through the dark-side junk heap. Lou can plot a course at minimum acceleration; he’s had the least snowflake exposure. Yuki and Auckland can take turns on watch while we rest.”

  When they checked in with the ground party, Herk said, “We just powered on the lights and arranged beds for everyone. Anyone not building the bunkhouse collected plant samples. I’ve called in all the explorers for now, but we’ll continue to search for caves around the mountain tomorrow.”

  “What are you doing until the fireworks?”

  “We already have the crawfish boiling. Yvette’s making a rice dish with all vacuum-pouch spices for the cautious half of us. However, Johnny says the meat looks fine, and that pot smells delicious. Risa’s trying a little fruit and some local nuts with her rice. Eventually, we’ll all have to adjust to the local microbes. I just hope it’s not too painful.”

  “Are you up for a full g for the next hour? Mercy says there’s a way to cancel some of the excess acceleration, but we’re too fried for anything but the basics.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Do you have a name for camp one yet?”

  “I liked Yellowstone, but my better half who built the place had other ideas. She wants Garden Hollow.”

  Chapter 14 – Bat Out of Hell

  The missiles only chased Sanctuary for an hour before dark-side debris collisions ended them all. After a brief celebration, the planners paired off into bedrooms. Auckland bunked with Sojiro, and Mercy hung on the wall alone, convinced that Yuki would be back to the girls
’ dorm eventually.

  Mercy wondered if there would be any electric lights or glow panels overhead when they didn’t have sunlight streaming in through the windows this coming winter. With no one to talk to, she pondered configurations for the engines that would maintain a safe gravity around the mountain but weightlessness in Olympus. She wore her faceplate for the screen and took notes with her air keyboard for an hour. When she finally slipped into unconsciousness, odd finger twitches were recorded as garbled noise.

  Eight hours later, Sojiro knocked on her faceplate, and she awoke with a start. “Huh?”

  “You always sleep in a helmet?” the Japanese artist asked.

  “No,” Mercy moaned. “Only when I want my neck to hurt. Oh.”

  “Yvette said you’re prone to muscle cramps. I’m a masseur,” Sojiro said. “Take that off and bend over.”

  In the door to the room, Yuki joked, “If I had a dollar for every time a guy said that . . . today.”

  Mercy colored a little as her roommate rummaged through a bag for a nutrient tube. “You’re looking very clean.”

  Yuki chuckled. “Funny. I feel the opposite.”

  “I know you didn’t get a chance to pack extra clothes before we left Earth,” Mercy said. “You can borrow some of mine if you want.”

  “Thanks!” Yuki rummaged through her roommate’s well-organized kit hanging from the wall and unrolled a pair of silk pants with a drawstring. She held the food tube in her teeth while she wiggled into the new, more comfortable clothing. “Your tops would be too roomy for me, but these are perfect.”

  “Don’t spoil your breakfast,” Sojiro warned. “We’re having a big family meal in the dining room in ten minutes.”

 

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