by Geoff North
She sipped at it slowly. The fluid stung against her tongue and burned down her throat. It got better the more she swallowed. It smelled awful and tasted worse, but she didn’t care. Loke pulled the bottle back. “Easy, not so much. There’s only one more bottle after this.”
“Bit more,” Charm rasped. He let her take a few more sips. The cat crawled up onto the blanket covering her legs. It began kneading her stomach. “Where… are we?”
“Not anywhere near home, that’s for sure. Can you stand?” Charm nodded and held a hand out. “Watch your head,” Loke warned as he helped her up.
The top of her skull scraped against something hard. Charm stepped out from beneath it and looked back. She’d been sleeping under a plastic board angled up on one end with two metal posts. The other end was buried a few inches beneath the soil. The entire structure had been set in front of a pile of boulders and smaller rocks. “You built a shelter,” she said.
“I woke up in mud about a kilometer west of here. Started back east and found this place already here.” He pointed to another gathering of stones less than fifty meters away. “There’s three or four more shelters just like this one running back half a kilometer along the drainage ditch.”
Charm looked out past the rock gatherings scattered along the snaking ravine, towards the black mountains and volcanoes. The sun had already set. A few bright spots were twinkling in the blood-red sky above them. Loke continued talking as she craned her head back and saw a hundred more stars. “Mom told me once about the small camps out in the plains. It’s where the rejects go.”
Charm had heard of them as well. Rejects was a term given to the men and women Martian society had given up on. They were in the same class as beggars and starvers, but even living off the Deimos City streets seemed too difficult for them. Rejects sustained themselves outside the city limits, surviving off what the barren land could provide, and the land didn’t provide much. Most everything the rejects possessed had been brought from the city that had spit them out; chunks of plastic and rusted metal bars were their homes, stolen blankets and burn pellets kept them warm. The awful-tasting water Charm had drunk came from the sewage stream, boiled over the fire to filter out most of the awfulness.
“Where are they now?” Charm asked. “Why aren’t any of them here?”
Loke shrugged. “The whole planet’s being evacuated. I guess even rejects are moving to Earth.”
“We have to get back to the city or they’ll leave without us.”
“Mom won’t leave us behind. We still have time.”
“We should go now.”
Loke steered her back to the dying fire. “It’s too dark. We’ll go first thing in the morning.” He covered her shoulders with the blanket from under the shelter. “Get those clothes off. You’ll never warm up proper until they’ve dried out.”
Charm went off into the dark a little way and did as her brother told. The clothes were no longer stiff, but they were damp. It was difficult stripping out of them with her body shivering. She wrapped the blanket back around when she’d finished. It wasn’t all that thick or warm, and it was filled with plenty of holes and tears. It smelled bad, too. Poor rejects, she thought. No one should have to live cold and starving. She went back to Loke and placed her clothes in front of the fire to dry.
Her brother grabbed a small grey ball up from the ground and tossed it into the coals. The burn pellet ignited into a sphere of glowing white, throwing off an immediate wave of heat. “There’s three pellets left. That should get us through most of the night.”
The white globe spilt apart into multiple pieces. The smaller chunks dimmed to orange and continued to burn. Charm held her hands close to the flames. Her fingers were beginning to tingle again. “I’m hungry.”
Loke sat and crossed his legs, settling next to her. He rubbed his stomach. “Me too. The rejects didn’t leave any food behind.”
“We’ll starve to death.”
“No we won’t. The water can keep us going for a few more days.”
Charm groaned. “Days?”
Loke looked to the east. “It shouldn’t take us that long to find the city. Might even be home before sunset tomorrow.”
The cat worked its way into Charm’s lap and started kneading again. She stroked the soft fur under its ear until the purring sputtered up like a tiny motor coming to life. Cats purred when they were happy and content. “I want to call the kitty Happy,” she announced.
“That’s a dumb name. Call her something that makes sense.” Loke thought about it for a few seconds. “She’s been nothing but bad luck ever since you found her. Call it Lucky.”
“Now you’re being dumb.”
“It was a joke. You know, I was like being ironic… I think that’s what I mean.”
Charm scratched under the cat’s chin. “Lucky. It’s a pretty good name the more I think about it—kinda fitting, actually. When I was following you and Mastibate Hegstad in the city, I lost you both in the crowds. Lucky here was the one that led me down into the tunnels. You could say she helped me save your life.”
“Magistrate Hegstad.” Loke studied the cat with a newfound respect. He patted its back until the bushy orange tail flicked up appreciatively. “Lucky it is then.”
All three of them moved closer to the fire to wait out the long night.
Chapter 31
Rastaban Drac stood on the entry steps of the last shuttle left in fighter garage 2. CS Vir, Commander Edmund, three security guards, and the two pilots were already seated within, waiting to depart. “I won’t order you to stay. The decision is yours.”
“Someone has to remain with the ship, Captain,” Nash replied impassively. “Ambition’s systems have been put on full automatic control. When she eventually returns to Earth, the historians will at least have someone to question what happened out here.”
Half of Rastaban’s face curled up in a smile. “There probably won’t be any historians left… the human race might be long gone. Earth is seventy trillion kilometers away. At space-normal maximum speed, you won’t even reach the Sol system for at least—” he paused, tried to find the number in his head, and gave up a second later. “Have you even made the calculation?”
“I have. It’s a long time, Captain. So long that it isn’t implausible I eventually come up with a way to speed up the process. Perhaps after the first two or three thousand years, I’ll discover how to push Ambition faster than light from harvesting space rocks.”
Drac chuckled. “I hope you hang onto that sense of humor even longer.”
“Something is funny only if you have someone to share it with.” Nash reached out and grasped Drac’s shoulder. “Succeed on the Alderamin mission, and come back for me. I’ll have you laughing in stitches all the way home.”
Rastaban had wanted to establish a connection with the robot for months. Now that he had, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He rested his hand on Nash’s metal fingers for a few moments, and then turned away, climbing the last few steps and closing the shuttle door behind him.
Nash watched as the shuttle lifted and headed away. He then headed for the nearest elevator alcove, deciding to spend the next few centuries of his voyage up on the bridge. It was where the ship could be monitored most efficiently. And there was another reason to choose Ambition’s central control section. Nash had spent the better part of his first seven hundred years serving on the bridge.
It felt the most like home.
Chapter 32
Commander Edmund’s ship was beyond full. People were stuffed into every available cabin. Hundreds were living on the floors of the shuttle bays, and hundreds more were still camping aboard the shuttles themselves. The mess hall was packed with Ambition’s crew. Every square centimeter of the recreational areas was crammed with unhappy and scared men, women, and children. People were even sleeping in the corridors and lifts connecting the ship from one level to the next.
Only the bridge remained relatively empty. None of Ambition
’s crew was allowed inside, not even Captain Drac and his command second. SIC Barret had recommended the complete separation of crews on the most vital areas of the ship, and Edmund had agreed. The bridge, the engineering, and environmental levels were off limits to the evacuees. Retribution’s officers were now seated at the tactics table considering more areas to restrict them from.
“The transport bays have to be cleared,” Barret said.
“Impossible,” Colonel Simmons argued. “The bays are currently holding half of Ambition’s crew. Where else could we place them?”
“Last I heard, Lt. Gertsen was making room for their single criminal in the brig. We could lock a few dozen down there to keep him company.”
“That isn’t funny, SIC,” Simmons replied. “Where else?”
“There’s room in hydroponics and water recycling.”
Weldheim shook his head. “Water recycling is out of the question. Too much dangerous machinery and delicate equipment there for children to be playing around, and don’t even ask if any can live on the sciences levels.”
“I can’t imagine the children playing anywhere,” Marie Mara said. “They’ve been displaced. They’re terrified. Why can’t they remain in the transport bays? We’ll be jumping into fold drive soon. The shuttles won’t be in use at all once we’re traveling beyond space normal speed.”
Commander Edmund sat on his stool and listened to his officers argue. He was proud of Simmons and Mara. The female officers of his renegade crew showed more compassion for the Ambition stowaways. The men were more practical, colder about it. Both sides were right, but soon there would have to be compromise. They still had a long way to go. “They can stay in the transport bays. Marie’s right, we won’t be utilizing any shuttles for the next four years if all goes as planned. Weldheim, clear any passengers that have already taken up residence in water recycling, and make room for them in research section three. There’s room in there for a few hundred families.”
The science major looked aghast. “Section three consists of an entire ship level. You can’t be serious.”
“Section three is research and development,” Edmund snapped back. “We’re not researching or developing anything on this mission, Major. One more word, and I’ll place them in sections four and five as well.”
Lornay Simmons smiled approvingly. “I was going to suggest that next, Commander.”
Edmund stared at her. She looked so much like Tarrace, he thought. Her blue eyes. The tiny dimple on her chin. Ada’s voice cut in over the bridge audio system. “Commander, might I suggest utilizing the conference chambers on level three? Retribution could comfortably house three hundred passengers there.”
Edmund looked away from the navigation colonel. “An excellent suggestion, Ada. I’ll get the SIC on it right away.”
The commander opened a line to engineering before Barret could protest. “Lt. Kelly, how much longer before we can make the jump to fold?”
“Just a few more minutes, sir. Ambition’s parts fit our systems better than I thought they would. The technology may be old, but the principles haven’t changed much during the last seven hundred years.”
“Excellent. Keep us informed.” He ended the communication and pointed to the brightest point of light set amongst the stars displayed on the main viewing screen. “Take one last look at her, ladies and gentlemen. We set out to destroy a world, and discovered one from our past along the way. The warship Ambition will never be forgotten.”
SIC Barret mumbled. “Hard to forget with her crew squatting on Retribution.”
Simmons and Mara scowled at him. Weldheim chuckled. They watched in silence as the point of light continued to recede.
***
Nash stood at the bottom of the command dais watching Retribution depart on the forward view screen. It would likely be his last contact with the human race. He wondered if that made him sad. It was possible for the robot to experience emotions on a lesser degree. There were human engrams implanted within his cybertronic circuits, after all. Perhaps not sadness, he thought. Machines couldn’t cry. They couldn’t mourn. He decided it was something else. I’m feeling reflective.
Most of Ambition’s bridge functions had been put into hibernation or shut down completely. Nash had even powered the auxiliary lighting to one quarter, casting the empty command center in a deep red haze.
“I am the last serving crew member on Ambition,” he announced to the shadows.
Strange. He’d never spoken out loud without anyone present to hear. Humans do it all the time, he thought. He’d observed every captain he’d ever assisted carrying on conversations with themselves when they thought they were alone. It’s perfectly normal.
“I am the last crew member serving on Ambition,” he repeated. “I am Captain Nashira.”
Nash also recalled the old saying—people that talk to themselves are cray.
He’d been alone for less than an hour, and already he was beginning to question his sanity. What state would he be in after five thousand more years?
A proximity alarm sounded at the science section. Nash glanced back up to the forward view screen. It couldn’t have been Retribution. The warship was a distant point of light over a hundred thousand kilometers away, headed in the opposite direction.
He went to the science control board and studied the information displayed on the status screen. Something else was out there. Nash couldn’t see a physical object, but it was there. Something big, something powerful. Energy levels, low frequency light emissions, magnetic, radioactive, and gravitational readings—everything Ambition’s computers were capable of detecting were spiking red into the maximum power columns.
And then the spikes suddenly dropped, becoming a series of green blips running along the bottom of the screen. The readings were nominal once again. Nash ran a quick series of tests to verify the computers were functioning properly. Everything seemed fine. He looked back to the main viewing screen, expecting to see Retribution still in the center. It wasn’t. He found it a fraction of a second later to the far right of the display. Either Retribution had changed course, or Ambition had.
The latter was improbable, Nash reasoned as he went to helm control. The ship was headed back to Earth on automatic—he’d set the course himself. Helm told the robot otherwise. Ambition’s flightpath had shifted four astral degrees. The proximity warning blared a second time.
Nash remained where he was. “Display science section information on main screen.” The red spikes had returned. “Display Ambition’s distance from the phenomenon.”
A figure appeared at the screen’s upper right corner.
908.59 KILOMETERS
Less than a thousand kilometers away, and Nash still couldn’t see its source. The figure changed.
4.3102 LIGHT YEARS
Light years?
Nash looked back down at the at the smaller helm screen. Ambition had moved off course another six degrees. The floor lurched under his feet. The deck plating made an unusual groaning noise. Whatever was out there had a hold on Ambition, and it was pulling the big ship in.
The readings on the main view screen continued fluctuating wildly. Distance indicators jumped from kilometers to light years, and back to kilometers again.
Nash took hold of the helm console, anchoring himself to the spot. The ship’s computers couldn’t make sense of the conflicting flow of data, but the human engrams inside his mechanical brain reasoned it through. The ship was heading into a tear in the space-time continuum, and nothing he could do would be able to stop it.
Another warning lit up on the sciences section that Nash failed to see. A second power spike had been registered within the ship—the cryonics facility.
Ambition disappeared into the rift.
Chapter 33
“Fold drive implementation in two minutes,” Ada announced.
Barret was seated at the tactics table next to Edmund. The SIC clapped him on the back. “Next stop, Alderamin. It’ll be good getting back
on the road, Commander.”
It would be even better punching Barret in the face, and wiping that satisfied grin off the old man’s face, Edmund thought. He was even getting sick of being called commander. The SIC had gotten his way in the end. He always did it seemed. It had been Barret’s decision to steal Retribution. He had put together most of the renegade crew, and he had put Edmund in charge. The takeover of Ambition and resettlement of her crew may had been approved by Edmund and the other officers, but the entire process had been initiated by Corwin Barret.
“Tell that to Captain Drac and his people,” Edmund finally replied. “I doubt they’ll share your level of enthusiasm.”
Penelope Strong entered the bridge. The doctor appeared troubled, running a hand through her long red hair, and looking more than a little annoyed at the armed Retribution guard accompanying her.
“Dr. Strong.” Edmund shifted over a few inches on his stool, away from Barret. “I would’ve thought you’d be stuck in the medical center with so many new patients to care for.”
“Ambition’s people are remarkably healthy, Commander. Besides Shain Agle, I only have one pregnant woman and a six-year-old with an ankle sprain to look after.” She glanced back at the guard. “Is it really necessary for this goon to be tailing me everywhere I go?”
“It’s only precautionary,” Barret said. “Until Ambition’s people have settled, I felt our senior staff should be protected at all times.”
Another command decision Edmund hadn’t been informed of. At least the smug grin had dropped from the SIC’s face. The doctor’s presence always threw him off.
The guard spoke out. “You think I’m a goon?”
“Sorry, Michael,” Strong apologized. “It was just a figure of speech.”
“Why are you on the bridge, doctor?” Edmund asked.
She sat on the stool next to him. “I may not be busy now, but the time will come when we start taking more patients in. I’ll need additional doctors and nurses to care for the elderly and sick. Dr. Gulum has already agreed to assist me. I need your approval to hire more Ambition medical staff.”