by Frank Tuttle
“I’ll go let the others know you’re awake.” Mug buzzed for the doorless exit. “Make it quick, you two. We’re not out of the proverbial woods just yet.”
“Before I begin, love, pray try a small experiment,” Donchen said, as Mug sailed away. “Your Sight. Try to extend it now. I believe you’ll find your magic has returned.”
Meralda bit back a question. Instead, she slipped her arms around Donchen, closed her eyes, and extended her Sight.
For a split second, she was heartbroken. Then the old familiar vista returned, and the cramped spaceship cabin brightened, glowing with dozens of structural enhancements that she instantly recognized as Hang in origin.
She squeezed Donchen tight, and he laughed. “I shall assume that means your Sight is restored,” he said.
“I never thought I’d see it again,” Meralda whispered. “Here, we are beyond the Hub’s influence.”
“Just barely. We are some thousand feet beyond the outer hull. Stationary at the moment, while the crew is performing a damage assessment.”
Meralda heard muffled voices from the gangway outside the room. “What happened?”
“You were unconscious when the Matriarch landed,” Donchen said. “By then, Skoof and I managed to convince my countrymen that they were in grave peril. The presence of so many Mag corpses falling all around them did lend credence to our story. They, too, saw the larger mass of Mag approaching. We managed to get everyone aboard the Yangzhou and get her aloft just as the second wave fell upon us. I must admit, dearest, that our intrepid young pilot was somewhat hesitant to aim his craft at the deck and apply full thrust, on the word of an exile and a metal man. But he did, and the Hub obliged by opening, and putting us out into the void.”
Meralda continued to gaze about with her Sight, concentrating mostly on the intricate Hang spells that infused the bulkheads. “You said mother was wounded.”
Donchen nodded. “Indeed. Gravely so, I feared. She engaged the single Mag that gained access to the airlock. She is a most formidable woman. Much like her daughter. At any rate, Skoof stopped the bleeding and was able to heal the wound. Our friend’s abilities are greatly magnified, beyond the Hub’s influence.”
“She’ll be all right?” Meralda asked.
“Her wound is healed.”
“You’re not telling me everything, are you?”
“The Mag which clung to our hull were sent spinning into the Void when we emerged. We are now twenty-two souls. And the crows, of course. So, twenty-four.”
Meralda frowned. “The rest of the Hang fleet?”
“Lost, sadly, to the void. Two hundred brave fellows.”
“And this craft. You said the crew was doing damage assessments now. But you know, don’t you? Whether it will bear us home or not?”
The voices outside grew suddenly louder, joined by the frantic yapping of Mr. Reardon and Mug’s exasperated calls for quiet. Donchen gently disentangled himself and helped Meralda put her feet near what she assumed was the floor.
“It will not,” he whispered to her. “She is leaking air. Her flying coils are barely operable. Her stores are depleted. That much is obvious, love. I surmise the actual reports will be even grimmer, once we can put numbers on everything.”
“But that isn’t the worst news, is it?”
“Your mother prefers to deliver that in person,” said Donchen, as Mug, Mrs. Primsbite, and a trio of smiling Hang piled into the cabin.
“Mage Ovis,” Donchen executed a grand bow. “May I present to you Captain Sontang Lin, pilot extraordinaire Ming Lin, and Engineer Leland Cheng, senior officers of the good ship Yangzhou?”
Meralda tried to bow, but only set herself spinning until Donchen steadied her with his hand on hers.
The Hang smiled back. The Captain – he barely a youth, Meralda thought – caught the edge of the bunk and spoke briefly.
“He welcomes you aboard, and extends his thanks for your timely arrival,” Donchen said. “He may be under the impression we came as part of a joint effort between our great nations, on a rescue mission to save the fleet. I have no idea how he got such a wild idea.”
“I wonder.” Meralda smiled back at the Hang. “Please convey to them my thanks as well.”
“Of course.” Donchen spoke to his countrymen, who responded with a long, animated conversation punctuated by sighs and frowns.
“They’re talking about the state of the ship.” Mug sailed his cage expertly through the crowd. “It’s not good. How are you feeling, Mistress? Skoof said you’d be fine.”
“I am,” Meralda said. Mrs. Primsbite sidled through the Hang to join Mug and Meralda. “We’re in the void,” she said, grinning. Her face was smudged with soot, and her hat was askew. “There’s a viewing station on the flight deck, Meralda. You simply must have a look. It’s glorious!”
“Do we have free run of the craft?” Meralda asked.
“Quite,” said Mrs. Primsbite. “Oh, they were cautious at first. Then Skoof went from man to man, healing them with just a touch of those metal arms of his.” She lowered her voice. “You ought to have seen the poor wights. They were wasting away, hair falling out, teeth getting loose. Skoof said something about invisible rays in the void, it didn’t make much sense, but whatever he did perked them right up. We’re quite welcome now.” She winked. “I’m considering a position with the firm for him, you know. He’s a consummate diplomat. Even speaks their language, with hardly a bobble.”
“He what?”
Before Mrs. Primsbite could reply, a loud bell sounded, ringing once. “That’s the red bell.” Donchen hooked his right ankle around the foot of the bunk and gently pushed Meralda to the floor. She watched as everyone present, save Mug, moved quickly to put their feet as close to the deck as they could.
The bell sounded again, and suddenly Meralda was standing normally. With the return of weight, her hair fell, and a dull ache in her side made itself known.
“They’re firing her coils for ten seconds,” Donchen explained.
“Acceleration mimics gravity,” Meralda said, awed despite the ache. “Is that why this floor is painted red?”
“Precisely,” replied Donchen. As he spoke, the bell sounded a second time, and weightlessness returned. “When you hear the red bell, find a red deck, and quickly. Or you might find yourself falling, and I believe we’ve all had enough mishaps for one day.”
A loud voice sounded from the hall. Donchen listened and then shrugged. “We have one-quarter of designed coil capacity left. Better than I expected.”
“But not enough to get us home,” Meralda said, softly.
The three Hang officers rushed out of the cabin after a series of hasty farewells. Donchen squeezed Meralda’s arm. “I’ll go get caught up on the assessment. It won’t take long. I believe your mother is up a deck. I’m sure Mug knows the way.”
“You said Skoof healed her wound.”
“He did. She is in no immediate danger whatsoever. Mug. See Meralda to her mother, won’t you?”
“I suppose.” Mug brought his cage close to bear. “There are handrails along the walls, Mistress. Everyone uses them to sort of pull themselves along. It’s extremely undignified.”
“Well, let’s go, then,” she said. She pushed herself forward and went flying past Mrs. Primsbite before colliding with a bulkhead.
“Graceful as an eagle. You’ll get the hang of it, after a concussion or two. This way, please.” Mug sailed into the gangway, whistling.
Mrs. Primsbite chuckled, took Meralda’s elbow, and sent her drifting after Mug. “Go slowly,” she advised. “We’re all going to be a mass of bruises before we get home.”
If we get home, thought Meralda. She took hold of the bulkhead and pushed herself through.
25
The jabberwock floated, blocking Miss Bekin’s cabin.
“Move it, Miss Bones,” Mug said, as he put his cage a few inches from the jabberwock’s beak. “You know us. We’re coming in.”
The jabbe
rwock did not appear to stir, but its folded bulk did drift slowly to the right.
Mug sailed past. Meralda measured the distance and angle to the opening and pushed herself off the rail.
She tumbled through the air, missing her mark by a foot and veering toward the silent jabberwock. She felt a gentle push on her back, and then she too sailed into the cabin, somehow avoiding a collision with the bony creature.
Her mother’s cabin was dimly lit, almost dark. A single faint light shone, revealing her mother wrapped in sheets which she had apparently tied to the bunk. Her head and neck protruded from her makeshift nest, and even in the shadows, Meralda could see her expression was grim.
“Why we’re just fine, thank you for asking, how compassionate of you,” Mug halted his cage just out of Miss Bekin’s reach. “I believe you know Meralda?”
“Mug,” Meralda and her mother said simultaneously. “Leave us,” Meralda added.
“Happy to,” chirped Mug. He turned his cage around. “But I won’t go far.”
Meralda hooked her ankle around a bedpost, as she had seen Donchen do. “Mother. What have you done now?”
“You mean aside from saving my daughter, and perhaps every member of our little band? I thought my actions were commendable, if not heroic.”
“They were,” Meralda said. “I’d never argue that. Yes, I was furious with you. But I’m also glad to see you, alive and whole.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “I do believe you’re sincere. Careful, daughter. You know better than to allow me any purchase into your affection.”
Meralda grabbed the sheets and managed to seat herself on the bunk. “Enough of that. I recognize deflection. Now. What is it Donchen wouldn’t tell me? Were you injured in some way I can’t see? Has your illness progressed?”
For a moment, her mother was silent, and Meralda was surprised when her heart began to sink.
“I was dying when we arrived aboard this wretched wheel,” said her mother. “A few months left, at the most. Doctors could do nothing. I was active enough, yes, but I could feel it eating away at me, a bit each day.” She paused. “Don’t confuse hopelessness with courage, Meralda. I thought I had nothing to lose. It’s quite liberating, knowing one’s end is closer than Yule. Knowing that gives one a certain freedom. Even, perhaps, from oneself.”
Meralda reached up and awkwardly put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I wish you’d told me, Mother. You don’t have to suffer alone, you know.”
“Suffering alone is precisely the thing I deserve. I had hoped that my final actions would, in some small way, be recompense for what I did. To you.”
“That isn’t necessary, Mother.” Meralda took in a deep breath. Her tears floated away from her face as soon as they were shed. “I forgive you. I forgave you long ago.”
Miss Bekin’s thin hand emerged from her cocoon of sheets. It sought out Meralda’s and laid atop it. “That, I believe, is at once the most endearing and the most frightening statement I have ever heard.”
“I don’t understand,” Meralda said, batting away a small swarm of tears. “What have you done?”
Her mother’s gaze moved toward the jabberwock, and suddenly Meralda knew.
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” her mother replied. “I struck a bargain. My last breath, for its service in battle. I saw the swarm of flying Mag pass over Celestia, dear. I knew your airship was no match for that. So. We had a talk, my new friend and I. I agreed to let her have my last breath. In exchange for a favor. Shortly after that, we departed Celestia. Via a refuse ejector, of all things.”
Meralda glared at the jabberwock’s back. “I won’t let it have you, Mother.”
“I don’t believe you can stop it, daughter. There is more to that creature than mere flesh and bone. Much more. I will not see you harmed, entering a struggle which you simply cannot win. The jabberwock is a formidable warrior. I made the bargain in good faith. I intend to see it through.”
Meralda tried to rise and wound up sailing into the ceiling. Her mother caught her ankle and held on, leaving Meralda flushed and furious.
“I will not let you murder my mother,” she shouted, at the jabberwock. “I don’t care what you are. I won’t allow it, do you hear me?”
The jabberwock reamined still.
“Compose yourself.” Her mother pulled Meralda down. “You resemble an agitated toy balloon.”
“How can you be so calm, when that…creature plans to slaughter you?”
“She plans nothing of the sort. As I said, we had a talk. She will wait. We all pass, dear. My new friend is patient. She will take no action to hasten my demise. Now do stop crying. You’re creating a small rainstorm.”
“You cannot spend your last days in the shadow of – of whatever she is.”
“I shall do just that,” her mother replied calmly. “A bargain is a bargain. Your survival and that of your friends is worth a single breath, a breath which I will no longer require.”
“It’s monstrous.”
“It’s done. Accept it.”
Meralda composed herself. “How long?”
Her mother sighed. “Up until an hour ago, dear, I would have said a matter of weeks. But there has been a rather inconvenient development.”
“You were wounded.”
“I was indeed,” replied her mother. “The metal man stopped the bleeding. Closed the wound. It was all fascinating, and I was quite pleased – until he told me he had also cured me of – what did he call it? Oh, yes. An ‘underlying terminal pathology.’” Her mother sighed. “The best doctors in all the Realms could do nothing but look to their shoes and express their regrets, and a walking stew-pot cured me just by squeezing my hand. All in all, I’ve had a singular afternoon.”
Meralda blinked. “You’re not dying?”
“No more than anyone else. To be honest, dear, that’s what frightens me.”
“Why?”
Miss Bekin put her arm around Meralda. “I finally had a chance with you, dear. A chance I couldn’t ruin, because I didn’t have time. I could swoop in, save the day, and die a hero.” She laughed. “Now, it appears I shall live. This complicates everything.”
“You don’t have to be a hero. You don’t have to be anything or anyone, but who you are.”
“A knife with eyes? I read the report, dear. They weren’t mistaken.”
Meralda looked upon the jabberwock. “Cheer up, Mother. There’s an excellent chance none of us will survive very long. This vessel is badly damaged. Donchen claims we’re leaking air from every plate and every seam.”
“How delightful,” said her mother. She hugged Meralda, long and tight. “And it must be noted that we are still beset on all sides by relentless monsters.”
“Thousands of them,” Meralda slid her arm around her mother, aghast at how thin and frail she felt. “We’re doomed, I’m certain of it.”
“Capital! Well. Now that that is settled, shall we go forward and peer through the viewing glass I’ve heard such praise for? Before we are hurled into the void, I mean.”
“I suppose we should.” Meralda squeezed her mother tight, leaned her head against her shoulder. “It would be a pity to miss it.”
“Indeed it would,” said her mother. She swallowed, and then rose, laughing as she floated to the ceiling.
Meralda pulled her down, and together they brushed past the silent jabberwock and made their ways, hand over hand, down the gangway.
The jabberwock watched them go. When they were just out of sight, it chuckled, unfolded, and soared after them.
Beyond the viewport lay the void.
New black velvet, Meralda decided. New black velvet, strewn with diamonds and ice. That is what the void looks like.
“It’s beautiful,” said Mrs. Primsbite. “I never imagined such a sight.”
Mug’s cage flew up beside Meralda. “Astonishing, isn’t it? So many stars. And just wait until the spaceship turns so that you can see the sun.”
; Meralda just nodded.
The flat, pockmarked plane of the Hub hung below the Hang spacecraft. The ship’s shadow fell upon the Hub, an ink-dark blot inching across the vast gray plain.
“Donchen will be here in a moment,” Mug said. “The damage reports are in.”
“Are they as bad as he feared?” Meralda asked, her eyes still lost amid the endless, starry depths of the void.
“Worse,” Mug said, lowering his voice. If Mrs. Primsbite or Meralda’s mother heard, they pretended not to. “Turns out the ships collided as the Hub brought them in. We’re leaking air faster than we can purify it. The coils are nearly spent. Our only water tank ruptured and vented out into the void.” Mug’s eyes swung away from the void and toward Meralda’s. “We won’t last two days out here, much less three weeks. You know what that means, Mistress.”
“We’ll have to find a way back inside. Hide from the Mag, somehow. Make repairs.”
“Looks that way. Skoof did say there were quite a few auxiliary ports scattered about. Maybe we can find one the Mag don’t know about.”
“Maybe,” said Meralda. A grinning Donchen sailed into the room, arms and legs outstretched and his torso horizontal. “I’m getting the knack of this,” he said, as he pulled in his hands and feet, twisted in mid-air, and came to rest hanging prone with his feet on the far bulkhead. “Miss Bekin. Mrs. Primsbite. Mage.”
“From what I hear, we won’t be able to remain aboard long enough to become entirely proficient,” Meralda said. “Mug gave the news.”
“It isn’t particularly good,” Donchen replied. “Nevertheless. Our situation is far from hopeless. We need only gain access to the interior once again.”
“Does Skoof know where another point of entry might be located?”
“Well, he’s never seen the Hub from the outside, but he feels sure he can locate one. The Captain is preparing to start the search in a half-hour after the worst of the breaches are patched. Unless you have a better idea, Mage?”
“I wish I did,” said Meralda. Her mother looked back at her and smiled. “You said we have a half-hour before the coils are engaged.”
