by C N Samson
“Oh, what do you care? You didn’t know any of them. And by the way, Valicia enjoyed it.” He cackled with laughter.
“Liar!” Rheinborne spat.
No reply from Norland.
The cockpit window returned to a view of normal space. The Highfire and Skylight Dawn flew just ahead and above them. As Rheinborne watched, the two ships winked out of sight, a scatter of blue light marking where they had jumped into hyperspace.
A moment later, the Tranquility Star made its own hyperjump. Rheinborne leaned helplessly on the control console, staring ahead as the stars smeared together into a blurry gray tunnel.
IN THE COCKPIT OF THE Skylight Dawn, Norland received a status report from Vance, who now piloted the Highfire.
“Briggston’s confined to his quarters,” said Vance. “The thought-cap is confirmed operational again. Ready to go at your command.”
“Acknowledged,” Norland replied. “Exit hyperspace in two minutes.”
“Two minutes, copy.”
Norland signed off, then swiveled the pilot’s chair around. He unbuckled himself from the chair’s harness, stood and stretched. He wanted nothing more than to have a good long nap, but there was still much to be done. This hyperjump would take them to an empty patch of space, where they would stop and use the thought-cap on Briggston to make him divulge his personal financial information. Ultimately, after they’d squeezed as much money out of the old fercocker as possible, Norland and his team would have to leave Treilath space. But that was a concern that could be addressed later.
He headed into the passenger compartment, found Valicia seated on the padded bench on the shuttle’s port side. She appeared to be sleeping, but opened her eyes as soon as he sat beside her.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“So far, yes.” Norland gazed into her dark eyes, and for some reason was unable to think of anything to say but small talk. “Have you, ah, eaten?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“It’s just as well,” Norland said. “I don’t think there are any cubes on board.”
Valicia smiled faintly. “Ellis, please try to relax. Your plan worked, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, I suppose it did.”
“But I’m sensing that you don’t quite trust me.”
Norland kept his expression neutral. It was true, he had a few scratchings of doubt, but didn’t want to let her know that. “After the way you took out Emlyn? Come on.”
Originally, Norland had planned to do the deed himself, but Prester’s need to show off had provided an unexpected test of Valicia’s loyalty. Additionally, she was the one who had killed Prester. Wasn’t that enough proof?
“Did your team approve?” Valicia asked.
“They’re fine with it. They won’t dare say a word against you.”
“Thank you.” Valicia slid up close to him. “But I’ve been thinking. Blake thought he lost me once, and he won’t stop until he’s found me again. So if you wanted to put an end to him now, I wouldn’t object.”
“You wouldn’t?” Norland’s eyebrows arched. He’d planted a leftover charge of DM-17 on the hull of the Tranquility Star as a bit of insurance to keep her in line if necessary.
“It would be a kindness, actually. He still thinks of me as the girl he was going to marry, and I don’t think he wants to accept me as who I am now.”
Norland scoffed. “Put the sodder out of his misery, right. What about the siddie?”
“I hardly know him.”
“Okay, then.”
They sat in silence for several moments. Then without warning, Valicia leaned into Norland and kissed him.
His heart burst with elation, and all doubts evaporated. She truly was with him, after all.
A chime sounded from the shuttle’s control board. With a delighted sigh, Norland got up and skipped into the cockpit, bounced into the pilot’s chair. He initiated the entry into normal space and waited until the Highfire and Tranquility Star had reappeared.
Valicia came up behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders as he got Vance on the comm.
“Change of plans,” Norland said. “Jump to these coordinates on my signal.” He brought up the nav map, chose a location, transmitted the result to the Highfire’s computer.
“Coordinates received,” said Vance. “Standing by.”
Norland grinned up at Valicia, then said, “Oh, and don’t bother with the other shuttle.”
“Sir?”
“You’ll see. Patch me through.”
A pause, then Vance said, “Ready, sir.”
“Attention, future space dust! This is as far as you go.” He glanced up at Valicia. “Any last words for them?”
She shook her head.
“And just so you know, Rheinborne, I win!” Norland transmitted an authorization code to the Highfire, then hit the Skylight Dawn’s thrusters. As soon as both ships were clear, Vance would activate the explosive charge on Rheinborne’s shuttle. Though the man had survived being blown into space once, there was no way he’d live through it again.
CHAPTER 42
IN THE COCKPIT OF THE Tranquility Star, Rheinborne jolted to alertness as Norland spoke over the comm.
“Attention, future space dust! This is as far as you go.”
Future space dust? What did—
Rheinborne leaped from the pilot’s chair and hurtled into the passenger section. “Go, go, go!” he shouted as he yanked Kassyrinx off the bench. “Into the hold!”
“Any last words for them?” came Norland’s voice from the cockpit.
“What is the emergency?” the sidhreen asked. Rheinborne ignored the question, frantically pushed him into the cargo bay.
“And just so you know, Rheinborne, I win!”
The instant he stepped inside, Rheinborne spun around and slapped the access plate. The door slid closed.
Kassyrinx emitted a harsh chitter. “Who is that speaking? Why are we in here?”
“That was Norland. He’s about to blow up the ship.”
“Oh, surely not!” Kassyrinx protested.
TWO MILES AWAY, THE Skylight Dawn slowed, pivoted around to face the Tranquility Star. The Highfire was already parked at that same distance, and Vance commenced the countdown. Norland brought up a magnified view of the other shuttle and watched with restless anticipation.
“Three...two...one...fire!”
There was a flash of red-orange beneath the nose of the other shuttle, then the cockpit windows silently blasted outward. Norland laughed in triumph as the forward section blossomed into a cloud of shattered metal.
“Good one, Vance!” he said. “Perfect.”
“I don’t see bodies. Should we go in and dead-check?”
Norland turned to Valicia, asked her what she thought.
“I wouldn’t bother,” she said. “When it breaks up, they won’t survive out there, alone.”
“It’d be a hell of a thing if they did, eh?” Norland said, chuckling. “All right, Vance, go for hyperjump, now.”
IN THE STILL-INTACT cargo section of the Tranquility Star, Rheinborne and Kassyrinx huddled together, staring at a single canister of emergency oxygen. It was the one thing they had found in the storage lockers, and it was nearly empty.
“Go on, use it,” Rheinborne said.
“Much appreciated, but I fear it would only prolong my life by a scant few seconds.”
Rheinborne turned the valve on the canister, releasing the oxygen. “There. That should buy the both of us a scant few seconds.” He tossed the metal cylinder away.
Kassyrinx’s head-crest flattened. He made a mournful whistle and said, “I suppose now I’ll find out just how long a sidhreen can survive in space.”
Rheinborne set his ECM to beacon mode. If nothing else, it would allow some close-passing ship to eventually locate his body.
The lights shut off, plunging them into darkness. Rheinborne flailed as he floated off the floor. All engine power must have died, killing the lighting and
the artificial gravity.
“Sir!” Kassyrinx called, catching hold of Rheinborne’s arm.
“Right here,” he said. “Been good to know you, Kass.”
“And you, Blake,” Kassyrinx replied.
They floated in abject blackness until the battery-powered aux lights flickered on. Creaking sounds echoed around them, a sign that the hull was on the verge of rupturing.
A deep sadness blanketed Rheinborne. He had always hoped he’d die on a ship, in space—but not like this.
The creaking became a groaning, then came the shriek of tearing metal. One of the seams in the hull split apart, allowing the air in the cargo bay to rush out.
Rheinborne lost his grip on Kassyrinx, felt himself sucked toward the breach. He slammed into the wall, landed flat on his back, directly over the vertical split. A scream attempted to escape his lips, but he could no longer draw breath.
The suction at his back threatened to rip his spine from his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to express the wrenching agony that blazed through him. Panic set in as his body took on a heavy, crushing feeling.
Breathe! he commanded himself. One final breath!
Impossible. His lungs were like lead weights.
No last words, then.
Not even a whimper.
Not a sound.
Nothing.
Dark.
And then—
CHAPTER 43
A JUMBLE OF SOUNDS. Voices, clanking, banging.
An unfocused brightness. Colors, shapes.
Physical sensations. Pain, gravity, cold, warmth.
Rheinborne forced his eyes open, squinted reflexively.
Something covered his mouth and nose. He clawed at his face.
“Easy, easy! Just breathe.”
A woman’s voice, familiar somehow.
Rheinborne relaxed. Inhaled. Oxygen, at last.
He opened his eyes, slowly this time.
A face came into focus. It was Dr. Seldra.
Two strangers, a man and a woman, crouched on either side of her. They wore red uniforms, with patches that read “Nolvallis All Freight.”
“Great leaping Lord, he’s alive!” the man said with glee. He had an oblong face, close-cropped hair, and an annoyingly cheerful expression. “Can’t believe he survived being spaced twice.”
“Technically, this wasn’t a spacing,” said the woman, whose white hair was styled into a topknot. “The compartment still had some air left when we took it aboard.”
Rheinborne sat up, ripped the oxygen mask from his face. “Where’s Kass?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Blake, calm down,” Dr. Seldra said, hands on his shoulders. “He’s over there. He’ll be fine.”
Kassyrinx lay nearby, attended by three red-uniformed personnel. Rheinborne looked about, took in his surroundings. They were in a hangar bay, three times the size of the Skyward’s bay. The blasted remains of the Tranquility Star rested several yards to his right.
“How do you feel?” Dr. Seldra asked. “You don’t have anything broken, but—”
Rheinborne brushed her hands away, felt a wave of pain across his back. He ignored it. “Is Gwynne here? Where is he? I’ve got to tell him about Valicia!”
“He knows. It’s all being handled,” the doctor said. “Right now, we need to get both of you to the medbay.”
“No. I’ve got to see him,” Rheinborne said, gritting his teeth.
“Oh, you are so stubborn!” Dr. Seldra answered, throwing her hands in the air. “One day you’ll kill yourself, and I won’t be there to help.” She reached into her medical kit, took out a hypo-injector, loaded it with an ampoule that contained an amber liquid.
“Here. Painkiller and stimulant,” she said as she injected Rheinborne. “Good for about fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll take him to see Gwynne, if he’s so damned determined,” the cheery-faced man said.
“Fine,” Dr. Seldra said, “but at the first sign of distress, he goes straight to the medbay. Carry him if you have to.”
The pain in Rheinborne’s back faded, and he felt a surge of energy. He stood up with the help of the cheery-faced man, who introduced himself as Oglesbee, First Officer of the freighter Nolvallis Mariner. He identified the white-haired woman as Chief Engineer Wittko.
“A freighter?” Rheinborne asked. “How did we get here?”
“Tell you what,” said Oglesbee, taking Rheinborne by the arm. “We walk, I’ll talk. Off we go, yeah?”
DESPITE THE PAIN-STIM injection, it took all of Rheinborne’s strength and will to keep up with Oglesbee as they traveled through the ship’s long corridors.
“Truth be spoken, I don’t know the full scan. All I know is, our Captain Morse gets orders from on high to divert course and scoop up Mr. Gwynne and your doctor friend. Then the captain says we all gotta do whatever Gwynne tells us, it’s direct from the bosses.”
“Bosses who?” Rheinborne asked.
“Ah, right, I mean the boss of Nolvallis corp and the boss of the ITA. Anyway—whoa, you okay there?”
Rheinborne had felt like he was about to vomit, and slumped against the wall to steady himself. The feeling passed after a few moments. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Go ahead.”
“The doc said—”
“Let’s just keep going.” Rheinborne pushed himself upright and motioned for Oglesbee to lead the way.
“I’ll just skate to the end, how about?” the other man said. “You’re looking a mighty bit on the feeb side.”
They came to a lift, entered. A display panel beside the doors showed a side-view schematic of the ship. Oglesbee touched a spot on the panel, and the lift shuddered into motion.
“To conclude,” the first officer said, “Gwynne gives us the numbers for a jump, but tells us to wait. Then he says go. So we go, and we find you and your birdy buddy in that little wreck. We get you aboard, and here we be.”
“Thanks,” Rheinborne said. He began to feel light-headed, and gripped the handrail until the sensation went away.
The lift slowed, stopped, opened onto an empty rectangular chamber.
“This isn’t the bridge,” Rheinborne said.
“Never said that’s where he was, did I?” Oglesbee crossed to a hatchway at the far side of the chamber, palmed the access plate. “Well, come on!” he said as the door slid upwards.
Rheinborne followed Oglesbee through a short docking tunnel. A security robot met them on the other side, admitted them into another ship’s vestibule. The sight of the mechanoid triggered a sense of recognition.
“Wait, is the Adventurer?” Rheinborne asked.
“Right you are. He never left.” To the robot, Oglesbee said, “Take us to Mr. Gwynne, that’s a good mecchie.”
The robot escorted the two men along the starship’s deserted corridors and up to the Adventurer’s bridge, empty save for one man. It was Gwynne, hunched over the navigation station. Rheinborne let out a gasp as the DSI man turned to them. Gwynne had a gaunt, haunted look about him, with bloodshot eyes and his hair all in greasy straggles. It was also obvious that he hadn’t changed clothes in a while.
“Apologies for the bother,” Oglesbee said, “but you have a visitor.”
“Mr. Rheinborne, first name Blake!” Gwynne said in a loud, strained voice. “I am utterly glad you’re alive.”
Before Rheinborne could reply, Gwynne rushed over and seized him by the shoulders. “I know you think I abandoned you, but listen. I haven’t slept in days, I’ve talked more in the last several hours than I have in the whole last year, and I’ve got enough stim-juice in my blood to power an army. So whatever you have to say to me, it’ll have to wait.”
“Fine, but what about—”
“Valicia? Yes, I know where she is, and who she’s with. And at this very moment, everything hinges upon her.” With a mirthless giggle, Gwynne flung himself back to the nav station.
Oglesbee leaned close to Rheinborne, whispered, “Is he always like that?”
&
nbsp; “Not that I’ve ever seen. What’s happened to him?”
“Like he said, too much stim.”
Gwynne stiffened for several moments, then typed furiously on the nav station console. “This is it! This is it!” he said with frantic excitement. “Mr. Oglesbee, I’ve sent coordinates and a fleet deployment configuration to your bridge. Tell them that it’s of the utmost importance to deploy in that exact manner, no deviation!”
“Got it, sir,” Oglesbee said. “Do we jump now?”
“No, wait for my signal!” Gwynne typed additional commands into the console.
“You have a fleet?” asked Rheinborne.
“We do, yeah,” Oglesbee confirmed. “Well, it’s eight ships, nine including this one.”
Rheinborne crossed over to the nav station. “What are you deploying for?”
Gwynne appeared not to hear as he studied some kind of technical readout.
Rheinborne’s patience ran out. He grabbed the other man by the front of his shirt, shook him hard. “Are you going to tell me just what in the screaming hells is going on?”
“It’s all up to her now,” Gwynne said, ignoring Rheinborne’s outburst. “All up to her.”
CHAPTER 44
THE Skylight Dawn popped back into normal space, followed by the Highfire. Both ships were in an empty interstellar region, outside the usual travel routes. Still, Norland did a scan of the immediate area to assure himself that no other ships were present.
Vance came on the comm, said that they had gone ahead and used the thought-cap on Briggston, and that he had given up many of his financial secrets.
“Good, send over what you have,” Norland replied. “and keep at him until he’s run dry.”
Vance acknowledged the orders and signed off.
“How long are we going to be out here?” Valicia asked.
“Until Briggston’s got nothing more to tell,” Norland said. He stood up from the pilot’s chair, put his arms around Valicia and walked her backwards into the passenger compartment. After they kissed again, she slid her body even closer and maneuvered herself behind him.