“Hello to you, too, Paola.” Alistair looked pleased to see her. “You got here fast. Thank you for coming.”
Paola looked momentarily nonplussed. “Did you think I wouldn’t deliver?”
“I no longer knew. As for this”—he waved a hand to indicate the settlement—“I reported all of this to the Justice Department. That was for them to take up.”
“There’s no record of your report.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Alistair shrugged. “I did report it. To Agents Wick and Santos. Cam and I recorded the interview. Would you like a copy?”
“Very funny, Alistair.”
Nika looked past Paola to the two figures hovering behind. Cylindrical, Alistair had said. Four legs, four arms. Eyes at the top, in line with the legs and the arms. Alistair had said he saw them as white, but to Nika they were a bright green.
How did one greet a member of another species? She made a final check of the Netanyu—everything was fine—and stepped toward them. Hadn’t realized she’d done so until Alistair moved with her.
“And somehow you managed to leave that particular bit out,” Paola said. “Don’t you think something like that should have been mentioned?”
“Excuse me,” Barry said. “This is company business. Santiago only.”
“This is not something to keep to one company.”
Alistair glanced at Nika. “Ready?”
“Always.”
“Greetings. Your uncle’s uncle’s uncle must grieve for you.” Alistair raised his arms and bobbed his knees at the same time. “Ourselves are pleased to be here to assist. I am honored to present . . . miracle . . . Nika Rik Terri.”
Nika was a good modder, but “miracle” took it a bit far.
“Hello.” She imitated his movements.
That started a flood of conversation she couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand. Melda came over and joined in.
Paola stood to one side, hands on her hips, watching.
Nika finally held up her hands. “Please,” she said. “How do I learn to communicate?”
A tall, dark woman standing nearby said, “They do an operation. You’ll also need to be inoculated.”
Maybe. Nika wanted to check it in a genemod machine first. “Have you had it done?”
She nodded. “We all have, all of the settlers.” She glanced across at Barry, who was in a scowling standoff with Paola. “Not them. I’m Yakusha, by the way.”
35
JOSUNE ARRIOLA
They went to sleep, eventually. Despite the noise. All six of them on the floor of the crew room. No one wanted to go to their cabins. Josune shared a corner with Roystan and fell asleep to the rhythm of his breaths, in and out, against her cheek.
When she woke, Roystan’s breaths were deeper, longer. He was truly asleep now, relaxed, even smiling in his sleep. The ship was quiet. Something had woken her. There. A faint bump. And another one.
Josune lifted her head.
Roystan tensed beneath her. Awake, without her needing to wake him. “Hit?” he asked quietly.
“I think so.”
It was only a small bump. When the power was on, part of that power was an electrostatic force that repelled foreign objects. The same force that had repelled the Hassim that fateful day when the Hassim had nullspaced in front of their ship.
“Some of us are trying to sleep,” Jacques grumbled. “Now that it’s quiet, we can.”
They were out of the Vortex.
Roystan scrambled to his feet and followed her across to the controls.
“This’ll be loud, after the silence.” Roystan turned the power on.
It woke everyone.
“Let’s see what’s outside.” Roystan turned on the cameras.
“Oh, my—” She wanted to close her eyes, cover her ears. Everything was so close. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. There were asteroids everywhere. Even as she watched, another asteroid bumped against the outside of the ship. They were lucky they were almost stationary, ship and asteroids, and nothing was hitting with any force.
It was like being in a dark star field. Or a minefield.
“All this is transurides?”
Roystan shrugged, held his arms out, palms up. “How do you tell?”
She looked at him, started to laugh. “You’re telling me you came out here four times and you never tested it.”
“I never said I was smart in my twenties. Or my thirties. In fact, I was a bit of a fool.”
“Snow.” Josune turned to the body modder. “Would you recognize transurides by sight?” He’d spent the last few months talking transurides with Nika.
“I’m not sure. Dellarine looks kind of oily. I don’t know about the other metals.” Snow glanced at the lights on the panel. “If we have power back, should Roystan go back into the Giwari?”
“Let’s wait until we’re out of here.”
He nodded.
“Body modders with sense. An oxymoron.” Jacques moved into the kitchen. “I missed you beauties.”
Josune presumed he was talking to the stoves.
“How soon can we get back to Nika?” Snow asked.
They all looked at Roystan.
“We can nullspace out of here, but we have to go back through the Funnel to get to Zell. I’ll get as close as I can, but it’ll still take a full day.”
“Are you sure?” But of course he was sure. He’d done the trip four times. Josune looked at the minefield outside. “How safe?”
Roystan knew what she was asking. “She’s either dead already or she’s working with the Ort. A few hours won’t make a difference.”
If they were wrong, neither would ever forgive themselves. Please let this not be a bad decision. Josune turned back to study the field outside.
“How did you avoid being hit by all those asteroids?” It was a miner’s dream.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. They’re farther apart than you think, and everything—including us—is moving slowly. After the first trip, as soon as I turned on the engine, it was fine.” Roystan moved over to check the cargo hold. “What did we bring to collect transurides with?”
They’d brought a lot. Collecting lumps of rock was part of exploring new worlds, and Josune had known what was required for that. They had drones packed away in cargo that could harvest some of the bigger rocks.
They could have let the drones do all the work, but they were in a hurry. Roystan, Josune, Carlos, and Snow took suits and two cargo nets and went out. Roystan and Josune went one way, Carlos and Snow the other, holding the nets between them, gathering any rocks as they went. When their net had captured enough rocks, they tightened into a loose pack and brought it back to the ship.
“Oof,” said Roystan as they entered the higher gravity of the ship and found they couldn’t even pull the bag. “Hold a moment.”
He moved to the bridge, cut the gravity down to ten percent, then came back.
They emptied the net onto the shuttle-bay floor and went out again.
They brought back load, after load, after load. Tiny asteroids, bigger asteroids, some as big as a human, some as small as their hand. Gramps and Jacques packed them into the cargo space, pulling them down with the nets when they had enough to fill an area.
“Thank goodness we’re not doing this in full gravity,” Jacques said. “I’d be dropping by now.”
Roystan called a break after six hours. “Is there anything on this ship to eat, Jacques? I’m starved.”
“I thought you’d never ask. Five minutes to wash up.”
They stopped to survey the half-packed cargo store. It was only a small room, but there was a fortune in transurides there. If it was transurides.
“Too easy,” Carlos said. “Like taking candy from a baby.”
Yes, it was, and maybe Roy Goberling’d had t
he right idea not telling anyone where the transurides came from. Josune could imagine the chaos and greed that would come when the information became public. “We’ll have to work out how we’re going to do this. License it, or—” She didn’t know what. If someone like Leonard Wickmore got control of this, there’d be little hope for the Nikas of this world. Or even the Roystans. Especially not the Roystans.
Roystan nodded, then yawned. “That’s enough, I think. Let’s nullspace out of here. We’ve dinner to eat, a modder to collect.”
Repairs to do too. The Boost had damaged their bridge. The wonder was over, and it was time to get back to work.
Carlos snorted suddenly. “We did all this, and it might just be worthless rocks, you know.”
Roystan fell behind to walk with Josune as they made their way to the crew room. “It’s always so ordinary, isn’t it?”
“Anticlimactic,” Josune said. “Too many things happening at once.” She put her arm around his waist. “The important things are still special, Roystan. You.” He raised her spirits just by being around.
Roystan made a face. “Not me, so much. I’ve got old memories overlaying my new ones. I don’t like young Roy Goberling much. He was a . . . an overconfident young man.”
Josune laughed. “Not sure I liked young Josune much either. She was outright arrogant.” She gave him a quick hug. “We’ll give you time to get back into yourself, Roystan. Or if you truly hate yourself, we’ll get Nika to take your memories away again.”
Provided Nika was still alive.
36
NIKA RIK TERRI
Nika tried not to think of Another Road. If Roystan had believed he would die in the Vortex, he’d have sent Snow and everyone else with Nika in the shuttle. He’d been sure he could save them. Maybe he’d nullspaced out.
Despite what Alistair—and her research—said about how impossible that was.
Roystan had said he’d been here four times before. He remembered the Vortex. There had to be some way they’d escaped. No matter what Paola or Wickmore or Barry told her. She hadn’t finished training Snow.
Was this how Josune had felt when the crew of the Hassim had died? She’d been with them for ten years. Nika had been with Roystan’s crew a little more than six months.
She coped, right now, by concentrating on the one thing she could do here. Communicate with the Ort.
Using Melda and Yakusha as translators was exceedingly slow, and if the Ort were getting the same garbled messages as she was, they must think she was crazy.
“Let’s try again later,” she finally said. “I need to look at Cam.”
She had the feeling that she left them disappointed. They’d been hoping for a miracle, and she wasn’t it.
After Cam came out of the Netanyu, Nika put Yakusha and Melda through for a read. She found an antibody she didn’t recognize, and the same changes to the angular gyrus, Wernicke’s area, and Broca’s area of the brain that had been made to Alistair.
She double-checked, just to be sure, and sought out Alistair, who was talking to Cam. “I need to read your mods,” she told him. “I won’t change anything.”
Cam came with them. “I haven’t seen Alistair go willingly into a modding machine since he came back from Zell. In fact, he avoids them.”
“I didn’t say it was willingly.” Alistair pulled off his shirt. “Although, I am getting used to going naked in front of strangers.”
“Nika’s hardly a stranger. And I was naked too. Someone cut my suit off.”
“Speaking of which.” Nika thrust the damaged nen-silk at him. “You might want to empty your pockets.”
Alistair crawled into the machine. “You were telling me how you didn’t die, Cam. Even though I saw you get killed.”
“Blaster damage doesn’t always kill,” Nika said.
“You didn’t see his wounds.”
“I’m going to close the lid now,” and Nika did.
Cam emptied the pockets of his damaged suit. “Thanks for saving this for me to do.”
There wasn’t much in them, from what she could see.
“Respect of property.” He looked up. “Most people wouldn’t. Or not people I know.”
“I’m surprised,” and Nika was. “Not even him?”
“Alistair.” Cam laughed. A bright, bubbly laugh that suited his looks and his new personality. He had changed so much since he’d arrived in her studio two and a half years ago. “He’s a practical man. If he thought to empty the pockets—which he probably wouldn’t—he’d dump everything into a bag, just so he could throw the suit away as rubbish. Easier to carry.”
Yes. Some mods were good mods.
Paola came in. “Where’s Alistair?”
Nika indicated the genemod machine.
“Are you sure? He showed a distinct aversion to them last time I suggested it.”
“With good reason.” She’d have to train people like Paola. “He’s got specialist mods. You need to be picky about which modders he goes to.” Her or Snow only.
“I didn’t want him to go to just any modder. I offered him mine. She said she’d fit him in.”
“Ronda Knapp?” He’d have come out with toned muscles, which he’d never be able to see. Ronda wouldn’t have looked at his eyes before she put him in.
Paola bristled. “How do you know who my modder is?”
Nika sighed. “I’m a modder, Paola. Most modders leave a personal signature. Toned muscles are Ronda’s.” And they all came out with the same ivory-colored skin.
“And your signature?”
She didn’t want to think she had one, although she had no doubt other modders would recognize her work.
“Me,” Cam said. “I’m her signature, Paola.”
Paola sniffed and looked Nika over. “She looks a lot like an agent I arrested not so long ago.”
Agent Brand had gone to a modder who’d ripped off one of Nika’s designs.
Nika shrugged.
Paola looked at the closed lid of the Netanyu—for a moment Nika thought she was going to try and open it—then at Cam. “Tell Alistair that a ship is coming to take Executive Wickmore back to Kitimat to await trial. I’ll let him know when it has arrived.”
If she waited five minutes, she could tell him herself, for they were only doing a read.
It was a relief to know Wickmore was going. The sooner the better.
Paola turned and left.
Cam scratched his head. “She’s a . . . I think Alistair likes her.” He took a breath. “She certainly . . . protects him. And I think she wants him to work for her again.”
“Does he want to?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”
The Netanyu blinked green for the completed read. “I’m opening the lid.”
She studied the reading while Alistair dressed. Cam continued the conversation he’d started with Alistair before he’d gone into the Netanyu, as if there had been no break.
“Her friend.” Cam gestured at Nika. “The one who stayed behind afterward and collected the genemod machine.”
Josune.
“She called emergency. They took us back to the hospital. I got the same doctor who treated me last time. He said I was lucky to be alive and shouldn’t have been. He said he thought the transurides might have slowed down the damage.”
Nika looked up. “Of course it did.”
“He said he wanted to meet you, Nika. To talk about it.”
Nika wanted to meet a doctor who could talk intelligently about the fact that transurides might prolong someone’s life. She went back to the read. Yes, Alistair had the same unusual antibodies Yakusha and Melda had, plus the same alteration to the brain areas.
She reprogrammed the machine for her own body while Cam turned back to Alistair.
“When I got out of the hospit
al, I went to see Paola. Paola was stressed because someone had sent the Honesty League the report about Zell, and they wanted to know why nothing had been done about it. Paola couldn’t find any record of it in the files, and so she had to go back to them, to see what it was all about. By now she was really, really angry at you—and me—because it had to be one of us who sent it to them.
“The only connection I had was Wickmore, because we saw him when Nika came to collect the Songyan at the Justice Department. So I went to see him. He told me he had to come along, as he knew who’d taken you, but that they wouldn’t listen to the Justice Department.”
“You are aware he tried to kill us? That he blew up my apartment.”
Cam half shrugged, looked embarrassed. “He tried to kill Nika too. But he was the only lead we had, and so I figured Wickmore was my only chance of rescuing you.”
Sometimes you had to take your chances with the enemy because it was the only way you could win.
“Continue this discussion elsewhere,” Nika said. “I want the room to myself for a while.” She shooed them out, locked the door. If you did take chances, you also did what you had to do to protect yourself while you took those chances.
She checked the program again. Couldn’t see any problems.
She set the machine to start in one minute, disrobed, and climbed in.
37
JOSUNE ARRIOLA
Zell space was crowded.
“I count eight ships,” Roystan said. “One of them is armed.”
It was a big, wallowing Class Three. The Justice Department was the only group who armed Class Threes. Josune would bet this ship belonged to them.
“We should turn around and go away.”
They couldn’t. They had Nika to collect.
Besides, they were already being hailed. If they ran now, they’d be fired on.
Roystan took a deep breath. “I don’t know why, but this scares me more than the Vortex. Maybe even more than the Funnel.” He opened the link.
Stars Beyond Page 35