False Horizons

by CJ Birch

  “Okay. But you’re a huge pain in my ass. Next time try not to get hurt.”

  “Great advice. You should write motivational speeches for a living.”

  “Shut up.” I grunt as I heave him up on his one good leg. He drapes his right arm over my shoulder, and we begin our hobble down the hall. I have no idea how we’re going to make it through the service hatches now. They’ll be even more cramped than the chutes we were in. I hear shouting up ahead. Well, fuck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ash

  We enter a bridge in chaos. Crew run back and forth, checking instruments, yelling reports at each other from the other side of the bridge, and in a few cases, I hear muffled responses from the deck below. Kalve rushes into the middle of everything. I melt into the background to stay out of everyone’s way, but also so I don’t get asked to leave. I’d like to be here for the action.

  Jordan would never let her bridge get this crazy. First she’d calm everyone down before proceeding with a well-thought-out plan. I’m trying to think how I would handle it if I were captain, when Kalve beckons me to his side.

  “Your ship, the Posterus, what kind of defenses does it have?”

  “Why?” A thread of alarm snaps taut in my belly. Have I misjudged these people?

  He points to a giant ship off the bow of the Posterus. It’s immense and looks hostile. “That’s the Avokaado. It’s very unlikely they’re here to make friends.” The ship is ten times the size of the Posterus, the largest ship the human species ever built. It’s a city drifting over us. The observation screen zooms in on the top decks of the ship. Five rows of cannons lift their protective shields, ready to aim and fire on our ships.

  “They’re going to attack us? What for?”

  “They’re known as the Varbaja. They recruit people against their will for war. Specifically, war against us. They probably approached the Posterus to add to their army. They’ll board the ship and capture anyone they think will be good fighters.”

  “My people will fight back.” I don’t even have to question that assertion. The majority of people on the Posterus are scientists, civilians, people who will help create a balanced society. The Persephone and the Brimley were the only military personnel on the mission, and it doesn’t look like the Brimley’s returned from its mission. But humans are resilient. Every person on the Posterus will immediately defend it. We’ve spent twenty years preparing for this mission. We won’t let it fall to pieces the second we leave the gate.

  “They’ll lose,” Kalve says.

  “Maybe.” But it would be poor strategy to take too many of the Posterus crew. Over forty thousand humans are on that ship. That’s a large number to take all at once, not to mention the aftermath. That many members of the same species working together from the inside to escape would cause chaos. “Do you know if they’ve boarded yet?”

  Kalve turns to one of his men, who shakes his head. “No. They haven’t. Which is strange.”

  “Can you disable their ship? Or destroy it? Isn’t that something this ship is designed for? To defeat these people?” All we’ve done since we landed in this galaxy is get ourselves stuck in the middle of one conflict or another.

  He turns kind eyes on me. “If it were only that simple. Do you know how many people are on that ship? How many of them don’t want to be there? Even if we could destroy it, should we?”

  “Can we talk to the captain on the Posterus?”

  He nods. “Raise the Posterus on the comm.”

  After a few moments of figuring out how to bridge the technology gap, Captain Wells appears on screen. I’ve never met her, but I’ve heard horror stories. She may appear diminutive with her short stature and kind features—in another environment you might expect her to pull an apple pie out of the oven—but she’s anything but the kind grandmother she appears to be. Behind that exterior lies a cunning and brilliant woman who won’t hesitate to strip you down.

  At first she looks confused until she spots me. Her eyes widen.

  I step forward. “Captain Wells, I’m Lieutenant Alison Ash, the Persephone’s first officer. We—”

  “Where’s Captain Kellow?”

  I flinch. Of course she’d ask about Jordan, but I hadn’t prepared what to say ahead of time. “She’s missing. We’re searching for her.”

  “Missing?” She has the ability to make that one word a recrimination with so many facets. It’s an accusation against me, my inability to keep my captain safe, my crew, our ship.

  “Davis Sarka took her hostage and escaped using one of our pods.” Before leaving on our mission Jordan had argued against keeping Sarka on the Persephone. Wells overruled her, stating the Persephone was better equipped to handle a Burr. Even if they didn’t have a brig, they could’ve converted an empty cabin. They also have more security personnel than we do. We have four members of our crew for security, whereas they have over a hundred. I know it’s petty to dwell on this subject, but I partially blame Wells for what happened on the Persephone. We were in no way prepared to take care of Sarka and embark on our mission. Not to mention, Jordan shouldn’t have had to deal with her own father. Not that Wells or anyone else at the time knew Sarka was Jordan’s father.

  “The Persephone was unable to capture an escape pod with limited propulsion?”

  “We were dead in space at the time, and they disappeared behind a barrier.” Kalve grabs my arm and shakes his head very subtly at me. I get the idea. He doesn’t want me to tell others about our experience on the planet. For the time being it’s in our best interest to follow his wishes. “It’s a very long story, one we don’t have time for right now. The ship off your bow is very dangerous. Have they been in contact with you?”

  “What are you doing on that ship? Where is the Persephone?” I hate people who respond to questions with questions.

  “It doesn’t matter right now. That ship off your bow—”

  “Is a warship.” Kalve interrupts me. “They will destroy you if given the chance. You must prepare for an invasion force as soon as possible.”

  “And who are you?”

  Kalve and I share a look. This woman is infuriating. Is it some power-trip thing, a need to control what’s going on even though in reality she doesn’t have any real power over me or the Persephone. She’s not Union. None of us are now.

  “I’m the captain of this ship, and I know what that ship is capable of. If you want to survive, you will listen to us and follow our advice.”

  Her face pinches together, evaluating both of us. “What other ship are you referring to? What invasion force?”

  I turn to Kalve with surprise. “Why can’t they see the ship?”

  “It’s possible their sensors aren’t calibrated properly.”

  “Is there any way to fix that?” I ask.

  Kalve beckons to one of his officers and whispers something low. The officer scurries off, and Kalve turns to me. “We have something that might help, but we’ll have to transport it to their ship.”

  “What is it?”

  “Avokaado has technology to mask their signature. We have the ability to counteract that ability. It’s a small sensor that would enable them to detect the ship.”

  I whisper, “She’s going to want to know more about what’s going on. It’s best if we speak to her on the Posterus. Is there a way to do that safely?”

  He nods and beckons one of his men over. “We’ll send a stealth ship. They operate on minimal energy output, which makes it difficult for the Avokaado to detect them, especially with other ships around. You can take the sensor with you.”

  After arranging the ship to the Posterus, I decide to take Yakovich with me. If we’re attacked in flight it’ll be handy to have a security officer with us, plus safety in numbers.

  The ship isn’t very big, with two seats up front for the pilot and copilot and two in back for passengers, plus a small hold for cargo. I sit up with the pilot and Yakovich is in back. From my vantage point in front I have a better view of the
Kudo as we leave. The Posterus looks dwarfed among giants. The Avokaado looms over both like the predator it is. The first time I saw the Posterus I thought it was impressive. But seeing these two ships next to one another, I have no concept of how anyone would build something so massive. It took twenty years to build the Posterus and thousands of workers. Imagine what it took to build the Avokaado.

  As we round the aft of the Posterus I can see some of the damage the explosion caused. They’ve patched the holes, but the scorch marks are still visible. The patch job is raw and ugly. I still don’t understand why Sarka tried to stop us, but why should he care? He said it was a perversion of our species to separate us from where we evolved, that we would lose who we were if we left. But I don’t buy that. Only a fraction of the species left, while the majority stayed behind. It sounds like the rantings of a deranged man. And Sarka may be a lot of things, but he isn’t crazy. It makes me worry for Jordan all the more for being stuck out there with him.

  We come up to one of the cargo holds. It was a little tricky figuring out how to gain access to the Posterus, as our docking is meant for large ships, specifically the Brimley and the Persephone. The only other option was to land inside one of the cargo holds. Once we land we’ll re-pressurize the hold. As we pull into the ship, I glimpse the Avokaado alongside the Posterus. It’s so huge it almost blocks out the rest of space behind it.

  Captain Wells and her head of security Kurt Gladwell meet us as we land. I have met him. He interviewed me after the explosion on the Posterus while I was still in their med center recovering. If ever there was a distinction between the Posterus crew and the Union fleet, he’s it. The guy makes me want to sleep with the lights on.

  Before Captain Wells has a chance to step forward, he holds her back with an arm thrown out in front. He’s not a very large man but he’s imposing by the creep factor alone. His face is all angles, almost as if he were built with sharp edges. His eyes are black, and his tendency to squint makes them appear smaller than they are. But I swear, I always end up looking at the cleft in his chin. Everything on his face converges on that point.

  “Captain, we should scan them before you go near. We don’t know if this is a trap.” He stares at me as he speaks. He still thinks I was somehow in on the plot to blow up the Posterus, like I volunteered to have a bomb planted in me. He recommended that Jordan relieve me of duty. Luckily he has no authority on the Persephone.

  I raise my arms. “Scan away. We’re here to solve problems, not create them.” It’s too bad we can’t say the same for him. Wells stays far back. She doesn’t look as intimidating up close. In fact, if I had to guess I’d say she looks scared. Gladwell’s probably filled her head with all sorts of worst-case scenarios.

  “Is anyone else in the ship?” he asks.

  “Sergeant Yakovich and their pilot.”

  “One of them is in there?” Gladwell asks.

  “One of who?”

  “The aliens.”

  I beckon for Yakovich to come out, along with the pilot. This might become stupid real fast. “We have no idea how to pilot their ships. They were kind enough to provide this service in the first place.” They could’ve left us here to deal with a warship on our own.

  The pilot steps out from the ship next to Yakovich, who is a foot and a half taller than him. Gladwell’s men, who had entered to do their scan, stop. Everyone stares. I wonder if I looked that dumb the first time I saw one of the avians on the planet. I hope not. I lean in toward the pilot and whisper, “Introduce yourself.”

  He raises his hand. “I’m Pana.” Still no one moves. I nudge him again, but his eyes grow round, and he shrugs at me.

  “Now that everyone’s had a good look, let’s move this along,” I say.

  Gladwell nods at his men, who spread out to scan every centimeter of us.

  “Who are these people?” He steps closer to me, squinting and eyeing Pana as he asks the question. “How did you end up on their ship?”

  Yakovich hands over a small disc. “This will help you detect the other ship.”

  Gladwell eyes it but doesn’t take it. “I’m not going to allow the installation of unknown equipment on this ship before properly inspecting it.”

  Yakovich shrugs. “Go ahead.”

  Wells steps forward and holds out her hand for the disc. “How long have you been on their ship?”

  “A few weeks.” I pause, because in truth I don’t trust the illya. Not entirely. And the whole time we’ve been on board I’ve been trying to get my crew off the ship. So I have no idea if this disc actually does what it says it does. “I don’t blame you for not trusting them. But I do know one thing for sure because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. There is a giant, and I mean massive, ship off the bow of the Posterus. Now, even if they’re not here to invade you, the fact that they haven’t made themselves known is a bad sign.”

  “I want to see this ship,” says Wells. She hands the disc to one of her crew. “Have a look at that, see if it contains any viruses if possible.” She turns back to me. “Can you take me there?”

  “Take you where?”

  She sighs and places her hands on her hips. “The ship,” she motions outward, “that you just came from. I want to see it for myself.”

  “I don’t know. They weren’t expecting company.” I look back at Pana and Yakovich. Pana shrugs. I’m sure he doesn’t care who he’s flying. Yakovich’s jaw is flexed. She’s not keen on the idea.

  “They don’t need to roll out a welcome mat. This is a lot to take in.” Wells runs her hand through her short white hair.

  I shift my gaze to my boots and then back up to the hard stare of Wells. The woman doesn’t budge. She’s made up her mind that she’s coming, even if she has to strap herself to the back of Pana’s ship. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Gladwell steps forward to join us, and I hold up my hand. “Only room for four. Sorry.” I try to look sorry, I really do.

  He points at Yakovich, giving her the once-over. “She can stay here until we return.”

  “Yakovich is my head of security. She’ll make sure we’re all safe. She’s also fully briefed on the situation and the illya. There’ll be fewer questions and guesswork this way.” Wow. Diplomacy. If ever there was a “suck it, bitch” moment, this would be it. Jordan would be proud that I stayed civil.

  Wells holds up a hand. “I’ll be fine, Gladwell. I want you to take charge of looking over that disc, but don’t do anything until I get back.” She steps forward, and we have a moment like we both know why I brought Yakovich. Like I said, safety in numbers.

  Back on the Kudo I take a moment to pull Yakovich aside. Wells is busy being in awe of the massive size of their cargo hold compared to the Posterus’s. “I probably don’t have to say this, but Gladwell—”

  “Keep an eye out for him? Yeah. I got that impression,” Yakovich says.

  “Good. I don’t trust that man.”

  “You shouldn’t. I’ve seen him before. He’s not Union fleet, but he went through the academy. He was a year ahead of me. I don’t think he’s here only to act as head of security for the Posterus.”

  I pull Yakovich farther away from the group. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s special operations. No way would they appoint someone like that to head up security unless they were worried about some other problem.”

  “Like Sarka?” We fall in behind the others as we make our way to the bridge.

  She nods. “Yeah, like they knew the Burrs would try to sabotage us.”

  “His head must be exploding right now.”

  Yakovich laughs and slaps me on the back. “I would give anything to hear what he said as soon as we took off. I’ll remember the look on his face when you told him no forever.”

  As we enter the bridge I have this strange feeling, like I’m watching the scene from the outside. Yakovich and I walking side by side, sharing a joke as colleagues. A few weeks ago I wouldn’t have thought that possible. In the past few weeks, with Jorda
n and Sarka gone and Vasa confined to quarters, it’s almost as if I could forget the crew’s earlier animosity toward me. And as I have this thought I look up. The Kudo’s commscreen is live, and standing in the background, behind several very tiny people, is Jordan. Our eyes meet, and my laugh dies instantly. She’s alive.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jordan

  “Down here.” I guide Sarka into an offshoot passage, away from the voices. We stumble through an open door and into a dark room. I tuck us into a far corner, and we wait for the voices to fade. There isn’t much light from the corridor, but I can see it’s one of the classrooms where Sarka and I were first brought. There are three rows of desks and chairs. At the very front is a large screen that stands blank.

  “How did you even break your leg? I thought you had reinforced bones.”

  Sarka groans as he shifts. “Despite what everyone thinks, we aren’t gods.”

  “No one thinks you’re gods.”

  “You know what I mean. We can and do die.”

  “Spare me the ‘we’re just like you’ speech.”

  “Shhh.”

  Instead of moving farther away, the voices get closer. We are, of course, unarmed. Not having passed basic training yet, we haven’t been entrusted with our own armory like the rest of the crew.

  Sarka nudges my arm. “See if you can get one of the chair legs loose and use it as a weapon.”

  I crawl to the nearest set and yank the chair up. It doesn’t budge. “They’re bolted to the floor.”

  “Of course they are. Kick it free. Use your brain.”

  I circle the room looking for the chair closest to the wall so I can use it for leverage. I position my back against the wall and kick one of the legs as hard as I can. It doesn’t even vibrate. I kick a couple more times and still nothing happens.