by J. J. Green
“Yay!” said Nahla.
“No, not yay,” Oriana said. “I want to go in a Deep Sleep capsule now and wake up when we get to Earth. Living aboard a starship is so boring.”
“But we have a big ship to explore,” said Nahla. “There’s lots to do here, not like on the Duchess. Here, we can print stuff, go and look at the stars, play in the gym hall, explore the agri center…” She swung her legs as she chattered on about the things she and Darius had been doing since transferring onto the Bathsheba.
Everyone had been worried about Nahla after she’d witnessed the shuttle pilot’s death on Ostillon and been trapped in the cabin with his dead body. She’d been withdrawn and quiet—crushed, almost—and the feeble light that had begun to glow in her since escaping their Dark Mage brother, Castiel’s control, had been snuffed out. But, strangely enough, the cooling of relations with their eldest sister had made her louder and more assertive.
Nahla continued, “We can go anywhere we want now that Carina isn’t around to…”
Her words dried up, and they all sat in unpleasant silence.
Darius appeared to be especially affected by the mention of his sister. He put down his pencil and looked as though he was about to cry.
He’d been the most reluctant to agree to separate from her. He hadn’t said much in response to Parthenia’s proposal, but his little face had spoken volumes as she explained what they needed to do and why.
In a way, it was ironic that he was the one who had resisted the idea—his heightened sensitivity to the emotions of those around him meant he was particularly vulnerable to Carina’s regular bouts of anger. Yet perhaps it was to be expected. The two had always been close, ever since their sister had rescued him from the Dirksens.
A twinge of guilt hit Parthenia as she recalled the efforts Carina had gone to in protecting and helping them, but she pushed it away. Maybe the time would come when they could be one happy family again, but it was a long way distant. A big shift in attitude and behavior was required, and not on the part of the children of Stefan Sherrerr.
“Can I see the rota?” Parthenia asked, eager to move the subject on from their sister. She held out a hand to Oriana, who passed the interface over.
The information displayed reflected almost exactly what had been decided at the council meeting. Around three-quarters of the mercenaries were to go into Deep Sleep next week, but the rest would remain awake and on duty. The feeling had been that the Bathsheba was still at a small risk of attack and would remain so for several months, until she’d reached the vast galactic desert that lay before the Geriel Sector. Those who stayed awake during those months would be on hand to defend the ship. And, if necessary, the mercs in stasis could be brought out of it.
After the initial eight months of the journey were up, most of the remaining passengers would also enter the capsules. The small crew required to maintain the ship would be drawn from the pool of sleepers on a rotating basis, so that no one had to ‘live’ longer than three years on the ship in total.
At some point, when the Bathsheba’s scanners detected a planet suitable for marooning Lomang, Mezban, and her troops, they would make a detour, but that was to be the only diversion in their journey to Earth.
During the part of the discussion when decisions were thrashed out about who would go into stasis, when, and for how long, Parthenia had argued that, firstly, the children would always be together, in stasis or out of it. The idea that one or two of them could grow older while the others slept was disturbing. Secondly, she’d insisted that the mages would be among those who would delay going into Deep Sleep until the ship was safe. Neither Carina nor Cadwallader had been able to deny that their powers were invaluable in a battle.
Knowing Oriana and Ferne might object to a delay before entering stasis, she hadn’t said anything to them about what had been agreed upon, but they seemed to have accepted the fact fairly easily. They were already scrolling through sims the Bathsheba had available for the entertainment of passengers taking a break from stasis.
Parthenia checked the rota again. Bryce had elected to remain awake for the first eight months, too.
Yet she’d noticed that he and Carina didn’t seem to spend any time together anymore. Carina had taken a single cabin, and she guessed Bryce had done the same. Something must have happened between the two of them and they’d split up.
The guilty twinge hit again.
She hadn’t considered the impact that forcing her sister out of the family group would have on the man she’d come to think of as a brother. Rejecting Bryce as well hadn’t been their intention. Did he think their decision extended to him? If he and Carina were no longer together, he might be uncertain about his relationship with them.
Putting down the interface, she decided to go and pay him a visit. She would let him know he was welcome to visit anytime—that they still liked him and wanted him in their lives.
As she stepped out of their suite into the corridor, however, she realized she didn’t know where on the vast ship he was living. She connected to the ship’s computer and asked for the location of his cabin. The answer took several seconds to arrive, which she took to mean the Black Dogs’ techs were still struggling with integrating the Duchess’s comm system with the Bathsheba’s. Everyone was waiting for the person-to-person comm to come online.
Bryce had picked a place near the starscape dome Nahla had mentioned. Parthenia was still a little unfamiliar with the inter-sector ship’s layout, but she knew the location of the viewing dome.
She set off, but she hadn’t gone far before she spotted one of the mercenaries walking toward her with a determined gait. She avoided the man’s gaze and moved to the side of the corridor to give him a wide berth, but he veered in the same direction.
She grew uneasy and annoyed. Was he going to try something, like that other soldier, Chandu? She’d been dismayed to hear the horrible man decided to remain with the Black Dogs after Carina had executed Sable Dirksen. He’d left her alone after she’d punched him, but she still didn’t like the idea of sharing a ship with him.
Did this other merc have the same intentions?
The corridor was empty except for the two of them, she had no personal comm, and no one might hear her shout for help. Should she run back to her suite? She didn’t want to look like a silly girl overreacting to the situation.
“Excuse me,” said the merc as he arrived within talking distance. “It’s Parthenia, right?”
“Yes, but, I’m sorry, I’m in a hurry.”
“This won’t take a minute.”
Inwardly cringing, she halted.
The soldier looked very young for his profession. Parthenia guessed he must have joined up about the same age as Carina.
He held out his hand. “I wanted to say thanks—for saving my life.”
“Oh! Uh…” She weakly shook his hand, realizing he had to be one of the mercs she’d Healed at the battle in the Deep Sleep chamber. “You’re welcome,” she said, excessively politely.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” He was smiling. “My name’s Scanlon, by the way. Kamil Scanlon.”
The name rang a bell, but she still couldn’t place him. “I’m sorry, but…”
“I guess I must have looked a lot different at the time. The doc rejuvenated my burned skin.”
An image of a soldier opening his visor, revealing a seared face, covered in blood, and whispering his gratitude for her efforts to save him, popped into Parthenia’s mind. “Stars!” she exclaimed. “I remember you now.” She recalled another mercenary had scooped him up and carried him away. She’d been so sure he’d been beyond saving. “I thought you’d died!”
“Not yet,” said Scanlon, with a wink. “But I might have if it hadn’t been for you. You kept me alive until someone could get me to the sick bay. Even then, from what the medics said, it was touch and go. But I’m back to normal now, so I thought I would find you and show my gratitude.”
“You don’t have to
do that. I was only doing what I could to help, the same as you.”
Parthenia looked into the young man’s kind eyes, and her stomach did a small flip. To her shame, she felt her face grow hot.
Scanlon said, “No, what you do is special. I’m just a grunt. Still, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind…”
Now it appeared to be his turn to grow embarrassed. His gaze turned downward and his cheeks reddened. He cleared his throat. “Would you like to have dinner with me? It would just be something from the printers, but I know how to…” He coughed again. “I mean, it’s not much, but…”
She didn’t answer immediately, too surprised to reply.
“It’s okay,” said Scanlon, stepping back. “This was a really dumb idea. It’s just, I remember seeing your face, when I thought I was a goner, and you were so…” He sighed. “I can’t explain it, but you looked…It meant a lot to me, and—”
“I’d like that,” Parthenia interrupted. “Dinner,” she added awkwardly.
“You’re saying yes?” Relief and happiness broke over his features.
“Yes,” she laughed. “I’m saying yes.”
Chapter Sixteen
Carina had decided to get to know the Bathsheba intimately while she waited the eight months before she was to enter Deep Sleep. The vessel was vast, and if they were to come under attack, a detailed knowledge of her layout could be vital.
Carina had begun her tour at the highest point in the ship and then worked her way down to the Deep Sleep chamber where the main battle against Mezban’s troops had been fought. It was one of two serving the same purpose, the other lying on the same level but the opposite side of the vessel.
She stood in the center of the room. The floor was as smooth and fresh as if it had been manufactured yesterday. All signs of the firefight had gone.
No one seemed to understand how the Bathsheba’s interior surfaces self-repaired. She’d encountered plenty of self-cleaning starships—usually facilitated by nanobots—and most ships self-repaired to an extent, but she’d never known one that fixed itself on a microscopic level.
Her gaze roved the rows of egg-like structures that half-protruded from the walls: the stasis capsules. Many were now occupied by naked figures in fetal positions only just visible through the tinted shells.
Purely for convenience’s sake, Mezban’s troops and the rest of the prisoners had been ensconced in the lower levels. The upper lines of capsules were empty.
The sight brought back a childhood memory. Carina recalled one of the many insects she’d watched and studied when she was young, before Nai Nai died—a flying creature that lived in groups of hundreds and produced a deliciously sweet, sticky liquid. Her grandmother had said they were called bees.
Folk lore warned that the golden, viscous liquid was poisonous, but she’d suspected it was a white lie intended to discourage children from trying to take it. The small creatures would sting if they felt threatened. They built tiny chambers in layers to hold their precious fluid. Early in the year many of the cavities stood empty, but they would fill them all by the time the cool season arrived.
She’d Enthralled the bees to calm them, and then taken and eaten their liquid without coming to any harm.
The vacant and occupied Deep Sleep capsules reminded her of the bees’ storage cells, only the contents of the filled capsules aboard the Bathsheba were not nearly so appetizing, though she hoped that Lomang and Mezban would prove as harmless as the bees had been.
They had both sent her savage looks when it came their turn to go into stasis. Lomang’s polite subservience had disappeared, and Mezban had made threats of what she would do to Carina once she was free. Pappu had put up no resistance at all. Lomang’s influence over his brother had always been clear, but in Mezban’s presence he became positively submissive.
Calvaley had put up the biggest physical resistance, shouting and fighting with surprising vigor for a man his age. Perhaps it had been his excessive years that made him so reluctant to expose himself to the process. He hadn’t said so, but perhaps he’d thought he was at a greater risk of never waking up. Perhaps he was right.
Now, he, like the others, floated in nutrient, his mind stilled and his bodily functions all but stopped.
What would it be like to experience Deep Sleep?
Carina sighed and strode out of the chamber. Her next stop was a second airlock on this level and the Bathsheba’s largest portal. It was where Mezban’s soldiers had boarded. Cadwallader had decided to leave the Peregrine attached to it for the duration of the voyage, reasoning that its position would hinder another enemy accessing the main airlock. Carina didn’t think the Peregrine would present much of an obstacle to a determined attacker, and she would have preferred to secure the ship somewhere less easily accessible in the unlikely event Mezban escaped confinement, but Cadwallader had had the final say.
Carina was interested in the main airlock for another reason: it might have served as the entrance for the original passengers—the colonists on their way to a new planet. She wondered who they’d been, where they’d come from, and where they’d been heading.
How old was the ship? It was impossible to tell. The vessel retained no outer signs of wear and tear and the language its systems used was unrecognizable, so it was impossible to read the ship’s log.
The Black Dogs’ techs had suffered through days of difficulty trying to interact with the vessel’s main computer. In the end, Carina had resorted to Enthralling Lomang and forcing him to help. He clearly did understand the strange language or he would not have been able to captain the ship. She made him translate some long texts in the Bathsheba’s database into Universal Speech, thus teaching the computer how to understand the techs, rather than vice versa.
Later on, prior to putting the man into stasis, she’d asked him where he’d acquired the Bathsheba, but he’d refused to answer. At the time, it had seemed too much bother to Enthrall the man again, but now Carina wished she had. The procurement of such ships was a mystery.
Her ear comm suddenly sparked into life, making her jump.
“Lin, where are you?”
Cadwallader’s customary gruff tone quickly dragged her out of her musings.
She answered his question, adding, “So the techs got the personal comm system working.”
“Yes, finally. What are you doing down there?”
“Just looking around. I’ve been—”
“Come up to the Starlight Suite. We’re having a celebration.” He closed the comm.
The Starlight Suite was the name someone had given the Bathsheba’s viewing dome, and the name had stuck.
Carina hadn’t been there since she’d told Bryce she wanted to split up, and the thought of returning to the place, especially for a celebration, gave her a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She decided not to go. If Cadwallader had sanctioned a party, there would probably be alcohol and perhaps other substances involved, and after a while she wouldn’t be missed. If he queried her tomorrow, she could say she’d attended but had only stayed a short while.
Her ear comm sprang to life again.
“That’s an order,” the lieutenant colonel said.
“Hey! You’re not my CO. No one’s my CO. I’m not a soldier anymore.”
“Come on, Carina. Who are you trying to kid? You know you’ll always be a merc at heart.”
She blinked. Had she detected a slight slurring in the lieutenant colonel’s speech?
“Sir, are you…drunk?”
“You see, you can’t help calling me sir, can you? Come up here. You’re missing all the fun.”
In the years she’d known Cadwallader, she’d only seen him let his guard down a handful of times, and even then he’d only been somewhat less formal than usual.
Intrigue overcame her reluctance to attend a social gathering, and she headed for the nearest elevator.
***
The Starlight Suite was filled with people. The artificial lights
had been turned down to a mere glow, presumably to avoid losing the impact of the starscape above, and the dimly lit figures were occupying the lounge chairs and sofas, standing around in groups, or milling about. From the numbers present, Carina guessed most of the Black Dogs had to be there. Party music mixed with their chatter.
A tall figure was walking toward her. It took her a moment to recognize Cadwallader, and not only due to the low light. He was wearing a dark-colored sweater and slacks. It was the first time she’d ever seen him out of uniform.
“Glad you could make it, Lin.”
“I couldn’t disobey a direct order, could I?” She smiled wryly.
“Exactly. What do you want to drink?”
“I don’t know. Something light. I probably won’t stay long.”
“Let’s see what they have.”
He led her through the throng of bantering mercs to the edge of the room, where a small crowd had gathered around a bar.
Cadwallader gave a loud cough, and the crowd parted to let him through.
He winked at Carina, saying, “Commander’s privilege.”
She was surprised by the array of drinks displayed at the back of the bar. The basic printed labels indicated they’d been created on the ship.
“What’ll you have?” asked the bartender, who turned out to be Jackson.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t know what half of those drinks are. I don’t want anything too strong.”
“I know just the thing.”
Jackson took down a bottle and poured a measure of the liquid into a jug.
The lieutenant colonel leaned on the bar. “I figured you hadn’t heard about the party when I noticed you weren’t here. Even without the person-to-person comm working the news traveled fast.”
“I don’t think I’ve spoken to anyone today. I’ve been busy getting to know the ship.”
“Smart idea,” Cadwallader said.
