by Casey Lea
On the Grace’s bridge, Free ordered his ship straight at the sliver’s trail of energy leaks and slumped back into his padded seat. He could feel his Nav Senior’s concern and was secretly amused that he was about to add to it.
“Keep straight on,” he ordered serenely, “and drop the field on the aft-two-up cargo bay.”
“Sah,” his officer protested, “at such speed, there’s no chance your cousin can safely hit an open cargo port.”
“That’s Wing’s problem. Keep your curve tight to the towing buoy and then flip straight back to passage.” Free lounged in his seat and his gaze moved between data feeds with smooth satisfaction. He hadn’t felt this thoroughly happy… well… ever, he realized. He had to remind himself that he and his crew were deep in enemy space and still being hunted by their own ruler.
A guardian sliver appeared from empty space in the visual in front of him, along with Wing’s ident tag. “Drop shield,” Free ordered and Gull appeared at his shoulder.
“There’s missiles following,” he pointed out sourly.
“I see them, Senior. NS, you’ll reset the shield at my say.” However, instead of watching the guardian ship when it darted forward then curved toward them, Free leaned back and closed his eyes.
He felt his Nav Senior’s alarm and slitted his eyes to watch her. She shifted in her seat to stare at Gull, who looked stonily back while his fronds darted in her direction. She immediately turned back to her system display. The sliver’s course showed as a simple curve across the nest, set, predictable and easy to intercept. For ships and for missiles, the NS thought, before hunching her shoulders and sending a sense of apology to Free.
He ignored the slip and opened his eyes fully. He had faith in his cousin, but he still understood his officer’s concern. This rescue was due to get interesting.
The sliver was curving to meet them without a single course correction. Wing’s initial darting acceleration was all he’d used to line up on the cargo bay and if he managed to reach that target without further manoeuvres, it would be the most impressive piloting Free had ever seen.
“Drak me,” his NS blurted when the sliver’s signal merged without changing course at all. The sparks of a dozen missiles dived straight after it.
“Now,’ Free barked as soon as he felt Wing’s mind, and the Grace’s shield enveloped them all, just before the missiles slammed into it. The ship rocked, shaken from stem to tip by the impact, and restraint fields appeared throughout the nest. The crew was safely cocooned when the swerving vessel curved back toward passage.
“System movements,” Free demanded of the computer, and was instantly englobed by a visual of surrounding space. He sat inside a sphere of information that spun around him and checked for highlighted motion. “Four t’ssaa lifting and one already in space. We’ll certain-sure take passage before any of those five can and before their missiles reach us.”
The restraint fields vanished when the Grace settled into steady acceleration and Free looked past the visuals to survey his crew. He checked Clear first and she smiled when she sensed his attention, but remained focused on her own, much more complicated, data displays. He studied the rest of his officers in turn, but was interrupted by a chime from the link that announced the approach of guests.
Free launched himself across the nest at the same moment that Wing hurtled into it. The pair met beyond the grouped consoles and grasped each other’s upper arms, to spin around that point of impact. Both were grinning hugely and too busy pounding shoulders and backs to notice the more discreet arrival of a second figure.
Darsey floated into the huge nest unnoticed and dragged a toe against the lip of the link as she exited, to halt at the edge of that immense space. She had thought the Bandit’s control centre was impressive, but the heart of the Grace dwarfed it. Its huge globe had the atmosphere of a cathedral. A golden glow highlighted the consoles where they hovered together, like a lamp placed in a distant window.
Darsey's jaw dropped and that stunned reaction had an unexpected consequence. Something fell from her mouth when it opened and she caught it automatically. A further second passed before she could drag her eyes away from the spectacle around her and look instead at what she had caught. A sliver of white nestled in her palm and she frowned in surprise, lifting it for a closer inspection. It seemed to be a shard of tooth. She quickly ran her tongue over her teeth, but they were all intact.
“Where did this come from?” she murmured to her com, and was answered by an equally subdued Pertwing.
“It's not yours, but the edge of Nightwing’s most left incisor.”
“What?” Darsey choked, closing her hand quickly around the fragment. “I don’t understand. How did part of Wing’s tooth end up in my mouth?”
“It started with an exchange of saliva, but then you took more. There was a most strange and dangerous merging of cells-”
“No,” Darsey objected, trying very hard to forget the unforgettable. “I mean, he must have damaged it earlier when we were fighting the t’ssaa-”
She was interrupted by a dark-gowned figure which brushed past her to send her spinning. The collision sent the tooth shard flying and Darsey steadied herself to glare at the newcomer.
A wizened kres swathed in multiple black skirts that seemed to have orbits of their own, slowed to float serenely forward, without a glance for the victim of her entrance. She seemed completely oblivious to their collision, a skill Darsey had to admire even as it annoyed her. The elderly arrival was the smallest and oldest person she had ever seen and trailed a cane behind her, which rapped smartly against Darsey’s ankle before its owner floated on toward Free and Wing’s enthusiastic reunion.
“Well done, my dears.” The old lady’s voice rang around the nest with unexpected force, making Darsey jump. “Well done indeed. Now we can all die together and that is such a comfort.”
“It should be.” Darsey’s tart rejoinder bounced from the curved walls even louder than Lady Grace’s sharp tones and everyone in the nest turned to stare at her. She flushed at the reaction to her outburst, but then shrugged an unrepentant shoulder. “For now anyway. We're about to leave this system and after what we just came through, that’s good enough for me. I intend to enjoy every second of my life until the t’ssaa catch up.”
There was a stunned silence and Darsey raised her chin defiantly, but Wing was grinning at her. “Sounds most good,” he agreed. He glancing at his cousin before gesturing her closer. She obeyed and Wing moved to meet her. “I’d like you to know my cousin, Sector Leader Freefall FarFlight.” He turned back to complete the introduction. “This is Darsey Ice and I owe her my life.”
Darsey smiled and Free dipped his head in return, but he made no effort to shake her arm. The old lady wafted forward to interpose herself between Darsey and the other kres.
“Greetings, Wing. I note you haven’t changed.” A cold gaze from eyes almost lost in wrinkles slid briefly over Darsey and kept on going. “It may be normal for you to pick up females, even in the middle of a battle, but a Harvester? Being a pirate has done nothing for your taste, boy.”
Free looked as uncomfortable as Darsey felt, but Wing laughed in relief and flicked his fingers at her.
“You’re still in disguise.”
“Oh, my God. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I like you in dress-up.”
Darsey threw him a warning look, but his grin widened when she dropped the camouflage. There was a startled murmur from every kres and even the old lady failed to suppress a hiss. Free turned to greet his guest with obvious relief.
“Welcome on, Darsey Ice. I’m truly pleased to meet you and make ties with a new people.”
“Thank you, Sector Leader. I’m really pleased to be on b-board,” Darsey gasped and broke off when he offered a traditional court greeting. He grasped her hand gently, before raising it to kiss the inside of her wrist. She felt her cheeks heat despite the gesture being brief and he quickly released her, looking d
own at his own hand in apparent surprise. He jerked into an awkward bow and floated backwards to open a space between them.
“When we’re safe, you can tell me how you met my challenged cousin.”
Darsey glanced at the closest data display, checking the time remaining before passage while the four of them wafted toward the nest consoles.
“The highlights won’t take long,” she assured Free, and proceeded to tick off the relevant points on her fingers. “His ship kidnapped me, he bought me as his slave, made me sleep with him, sold me at auction, bought me again, imprisoned me and then abandoned me with pirates.”
“Darsey!”
“Did I leave something out?” she asked and then widened her eyes as innocently as she could. “Oh, yes, despite all that, I still saved your life. Twice.”
“And I bought you. Twice.” He looked quickly at the approaching kres, who were clearly shocked. “It added to the same thing.”
“Lame,” Darsey murmured, and Free laughed.
“I hope that tale unfolds better in full.”
“Only for me,” Darsey assured him, and he gave her a charming smile that was the mirror of Wing’s.
“I guessed such,” he replied, but was interrupted by a call from the Navigation Senior.
“Sah, we’re at point. Opening passage.” The air above her console seemed to coalesce, growing brighter while they watched, until it abruptly started to spin. A colored whirlpool appeared and elongated in front of them, to become an apparently solid tunnel. “Passage is stable, Leader.”
“Straight in, NS. Let’s put some space behind our tails.”
Their view of the open singularity changed even before Free finished speaking. The ship leapt forward and into twisted space. Those pulsating passage walls seemed to expand around them, sliding past to coat the inside of the nest. Their eerie light colored everything inside that globe-turned-tunnel and Darsey gazed down at her hands in wonder. She looked back up and smiled at the rainbow pattern on Nightwing’s golden skin, but he was frowning as he looked down the length of the passage.
“Explosion,” he barked and everyone turned to the tunnel’s exit. It could finally be seen at the far end of the image. The faint dot grew, but instead of the black of space, it was yellow and orange, and then red.
“Explosion indeed,” Free agreed grimly. “Prepare for an overly warm welcome, people.”
His order freed the crew from stasis and they were all busy at their consoles when the Grace burst into normal space. It was instantly tossed backwards by a series of shockwaves and something screeched along its tumbling hull. Darsey could see space spinning past in the images around her, but there was no matching sense of movement. Instead, she was cushioned by an invisible cocoon.
“Eight battleships, sah,” a pretty, blonde kres called over the protests of the hull. “A total range of types and no ident sent. They’re mercenary... and they’re targeting us.”
The crew all turned toward Free and Darsey’s gaze followed them. He nodded gravely back and opened his mouth, but Wing spoke first. “Open the passage again. ExM it now, and run us straight back.”
“There are t’ssaa behind, those following us-” the Nav Senior protested, but Wing overrode her.
“Do it,” he ordered flatly and although his voice was calm, she gestured to release exotic matter before Free could underlined the command. The coruscating light of an active passage filled the nest again and the Grace flipped end-for-end to power back toward it.
“Did we open it quick enough?” the Leader barked, and the blonde officer, who was clearly the Data Senior, reassured him before anyone else could.
“The passage is now our-side open, sah. The ships in pursuit from Gratuity failed to reach it in time. They’re stuck there until we shut it down from this direction.”
“They won’t meet us in the middle?” Darsey asked, and was abruptly the focus of everyone’s attention.
“Of course not.” An older kres with a short fuzz of gray hair and no console seat frowned at her. “A passage spreads from the input of exotic matter and it flows in one direction. How were you taught, to not know that?”
“It’s a long story. Even if they can’t use the passage point, I guess they’ll still be waiting for us at the other end, right?” A grim silence was sufficient answer and Darsey looked back to the light streaming from the main display. “So we need to get off before the end of the line. Can we do that?” She turned to Wing, who was clearly the only kres seriously considering her question. “Wing, you break and enter, right? So open another passage that pulls us to a different exit.”
Darsey’s suggestion was greeted by silence. She glanced around the crew, who were looking at her with various combinations of disbelief and sympathy.
“Even when we force open small singularities to travel along, the forces are enormous,” the Data Senior offered uncertainly. “We’d need a huge singularity to override the pull of the passage that we’re already in.”
“Huge, ye, certain-sure,” Wing interrupted with sudden animation. “The Great Attractor. Its pull is so strong it can all-times be felt in every passage we take.”
“Could you let us be pulled toward it? Would that work?” Darsey breathed, and he shrugged a hand.
“Certain-sure, but our exit would be more than bumpy. And if we crossed the horizon of such, we’d be paste.”
“So drop out before the end, before we reach the black hole. That should be easy, right? Don’t you have to work hard to hold a passage open?”
“Ye, but once you have such you can’t just collapse it. It would crush us too. We'd have to force a proper exit, an actual gap in the exotic matter flow.”
Wing sighed and Darsey's gut clenched. She swallowed her dread behind a smile.
“Too bad we don't have anti-matter, or anti-exotic matter, or something.” Darsey jumped when Wing’s hands closed around her upper arms. He gave her a small shake and one of the most intense looks she'd ever seen.
“You're a genius.”
Wing released Darsey and spun toward the navigation console. He launched himself toward it with a tap of his toe and she followed almost as quickly.
“What do you think?” the kres asked Free, who joined them at speed.
“Best plan we have. DS, convert ninety percent of our exM to exotic anti-matter. Will that be enough?”
He shared a glance with his cousin and they both laughed.
“Who can guess?” Wing returned to studying the figures the NS offered on the passage that they were traversing all too fast.
“We needs must drop free soon, sah,” she pointed out, “or we’ll move past the end point and be crushed by passage collapse anyway.”
The tension in Darsey’s gut rose to tighten the back of her throat, but movement from the link distracted her. An elderly kres in rich livery and a handful of followers slipped in to join them. They floated across the nest without invitation, but no one challenged them and they stopped to hover around the old lady.
“This could leave us flatter than a second date without sex,” a voice growled and Darsey jerked back to see the gray haired kres floating behind her.
“We’ve options of this or none, Gull,” Free answered calmly. “NS, surrender your station to Lord Nightwing. Quick-as.” He turned to gesture at his cousin and although his voice was steady a sheen of sweat had formed on his upper lip. “Wing, fly true.”
“Always do,” his cousin answered laconically as he slid into the rapidly vacated seat. Darsey pulsed her com to stop just behind him and clutched the back of the chair. The computer shrilled and a lightning bolt cut through the display, making her fingers tighten convulsively.
“What the hell was that?”
“The computer doesn’t like what I’m doing,” Wing said distractedly. “It’s programmed to stop any passage from being pulled to the heart of our galaxy.”
“What?” Darsey squeaked. “That’s the singularity you’re using? The black hole at the centr
e of the galaxy? That’s where we’re going?”
“It was your idea,” Wing murmured, his fingers flying. “Don’t worry. I’ve overthrown the safety protocols.”
“What a relief,” Darsey managed dryly, but the response to Wing’s override was frighteningly fast. A new light filled the chamber, bright and harsh, rendering everything in the nest stark against the slow spin of a massive passage.
“Holy Gods,” someone croaked as the Grace dived into it.
An eerie silence fell, broken only by the faint hum of Wing’s hands within the control field. He didn’t seem to be piloting the ship through that extreme tunnel, letting it twist as it wished, while he pushed their newly created exotic anti-matter ahead, searching for the faintest hint of an exit.
Darsey leaned closer, breathless and shaking.There was nothing. The massive passage looked solid and unbreachable. Wing hunched forward too and sweat appeared on his upper lip, in belated mimicry of his cousin. Darsey saw it and gulped, but managed to stay quiet. For an agonising moment the ship skidded on, then it quivered and the hull groaned. Wing bared his teeth and released the ship’s entire store of exotic anti-matter. Darsey watched it stream ahead of their crumpling vessel and finally saw a response.
There, at last. A flicker in the forces surrounding them, a weaker spot in the passage wall. Wing’s lip curled further and he made a feral sound when he forced their small supply of anti-matter into the exotic matter flow of the passage. The side of the tunnel split and, as it ruptured, Wing collapsed the rest. He let it fall in on them and ordered full thrust from the engines, driving the ship back into space and time.
There was a moment of intense pressure as the universe became a vice that made the Grace squeal. Darsey was briefly caught in amber and then the air changed back from a solid to a gas and she could breathe again. The strobing light of the monster passage vanished to leave the nest in darkness. She sagged over Wing in his seat until her vision returned, along with the soft lighting of the consoles. The crew had collapsed too, but the weird distortions in the ship’s structure were gone.
“Gods,” Wing murmured, and looked wearily up at Darsey. “Never ask such again. Kay?”
She found a shaky grin and offered it in response. “We’re alive and I don’t think anyone’s going to follow us.”
“They’d have to be mad,” he agreed, and they shared a more genuine smile.
“At least.”
A hand fell on each of their shoulders and Free floated behind them. “I’ve no understanding of what you just did, but for all on this ship I say thanks. I owe a debt to you both.”
“True enough.” Gull cleared his throat in awkward gratitude. “But, ah… where are we?”
They all turned to the main data console, which was already lit with local data. A yellow sun glowed above her, circled by six planets. Four were marked as gas giants, but the two closest to the star were both solid, with magnified views of their surfaces projected beside them.
“I’m still tracking stars to fix our relative position, sah,” the Data Senior said. “We’re well into this system and it shows two habitable worlds. There’s no sign of sentient life. No buildings, no chat, no artifice light sources. Atmospheric readings are all plus and no negatives. The air’s breathable.”
“On both?” Free wondered, and she spared him a smile that seemed unusually warm for an officer.
“They both seem liveable.” The DS stopped and frowned at her console. “This is super odd, sah. They share almost the same orbit. Both planets are a similar distance from their star, but on opposite sides of it.”
A surprised murmur filled the nest and Free floated away, to rest his hand on the back of his officer’s seat. “When will they strike?”
“They won’t, sah, because they travel at the exact same speed. They’ll all times circle opposite each other.”
This time there was silence, until the old lady cleared her throat. “So the pretty purple planet and the pretty cream planet are perfect matched in size and speed and orbit. Where are we, girl, and how far from home?”
“Of course,” the DS muttered, tearing her gaze from the planetary visual and back to her calculations. “Still working, but we’re well clear of known space.”
Darsey ignored the murmurs around her to keep her attention fixed on the primary data console. The image above it zoomed out and then out again, until much of the galaxy appeared. Kres territory was highlighted, along with the ship’s present position.
There was a single, soft cry, but otherwise silence. Even to Darsey the crew’s home looked impossibly distant. She noticed something else and blew air sharply over her teeth in a low whistle.
“Lucky we broke free when we did. The surrounding stars are already densely packed. Any further into the galaxy and we’d never survive their radiation.”
Gull ignored Darsey’s comment and pushed straight past her. He clutched the back of the Data Senior’s chair so violently that Free had to snatch his hand away. Gull claimed his leader’s spot, hovering beside the blonde officer and studied her data so closely that he leaned forward into her projection.
“We need to step back through those same passages again,” he ordered. “Match them perfect plus and fly home. We could finish with three quick-jumps to kres space.”
“Not possible, sah,” the DS protested, trying to point out the system they had first fled to from Gratuity, without poking her superior in the eye. “Even if we could find the path back, that system was held against us. Before we left I scanned eight enemy ships and fresh debris. They destroyed the ch't'kar trader that jumped through ahead of us.”
A chill trickled down Darsey’s spine, making her gasp, but Gull had no chance to respond. He was pushed aside when Wing grabbed the arm of the Data Senior’s seat.
“The ch't'kar?” he husked. “You’re sure it was hit?”
“Certain-sure, Lord. I read it clear and here’s the data store. That ship was gone. There was only debris, with no life signs left.”
44
Wheels Within
