To Sleep in a Sea of Stars

by Christopher Paolini

  Then Hwa-jung put a hand on Sparrow’s round shoulder. “Where she goes, I go. Besides, if the ship breaks, who will fix it?”

  “Count me in also, Salvo,” said Nielsen.

  Falconi looked at each of them, and Kira was surprised by the anguish in his expression. “We don’t need all of you to run the ship. You’re damn fools if you want to come. The Wallfish gets blown up, it’ll just be a waste of your lives.”

  “No,” said Nielsen quietly. “It won’t be, because we’ll be with friends, helping to do something that matters.”

  Vishal bobbed his head. “You could not keep me away, Captain. Not even if I were twelve days dead.”

  Falconi didn’t seem to appreciate his own words being thrown back at him. “And you?” he asked Kira.

  She already had her answer ready: “Of course. I’m better, ah, suited to handle it if things go wrong.”

  “They always do,” Falconi said darkly. “It’s just a question of how. You realize that if our Markov Drive is breached, not even the Soft Blade will be able to protect you.”

  “I know,” Kira said. She’d already accepted the risk. Freaking out about it now wasn’t going to help. “What about the Entropists?”

  “If they want to go with Tschetter, no skin off our backs. Otherwise they can tag along and enjoy the ride.”

  “And what about Trig?” said Nielsen. “We should—”

  “—get him off the Wallfish,” said Falconi. “Yeah, good idea. If nothing else, maybe Tschetter can get him back to the League. Anyone have any objections? No? Okay.” Falconi took a deep breath and then laughed and shook his head. “Shit. I guess we’re really doing this. Everyone sure? Last chance.”

  Murmurs of agreement sounded from all of them. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go kill this Jelly.”

  4.

  After further discussion, it was agreed by both parties that Itari would stay on the Wallfish for the time being, both as a gesture of good faith on Lphet’s part and also to help should any problems arise with the alterations Itari had made to their Markov Drive. Likewise, the Entropists both decided to remain on the Wallfish.

  As they said, “How could we refuse—”

  “—to help at such a crucial moment—”

  “—in history?”

  Kira wasn’t sure how much help the two could really provide with their hive mind broken, but it was a nice sentiment.

  Hwa-jung and Sparrow went to the storm shelter and brought Trig’s cryo tube to the airlock. As they passed the tube over to the major, Falconi said, “Anything happens to him, I’m holding you responsible.”

  “I’ll protect him like he was my own son,” said Tschetter.

  Mollified, Falconi gave the tube a pat on the ice-covered viewplate. The rest of the crew came by to pay their respects—and Kira also—and then Tschetter maneuvered the tube through the mother-of-pearl tunnel and into the Jelly ship beyond.

  The instant the Knot of Minds flagship separated from the airlock, Falconi turned and said, “Time to prep. Nielsen, with me in Control. Hwa-jung, engineering. Sparrow, crack open the armory and get everything ready. Just in case.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Can we make it to Cordova with all of us awake?” Kira asked.

  Falconi grunted. “It’s going to get as hot as Satan’s own asshole in here, but yeah, should be possible.”

  “Better than having to go back into cryo,” quipped Sparrow on her way out.

  “You said it,” said Falconi.

  5.

  Kira had thought Falconi was exaggerating when he described the impending heat. To her dismay, he wasn’t. The Wallfish was half a day of FTL from Cordova-1420, and with everyone—including Gregorovich—out of cryo, all the ship’s systems running, and no way to dump the thermal energy they were pumping out, the inside of the Wallfish quickly became a hothouse.

  The Soft Blade protected Kira from the worst of it, but she could feel her cheeks and forehead burning: a hot stinging that continued to build. Rivulets of sweat dripped into her eyes, annoying her to the point that she used the xeno to make a protective shelf above her brows.

  “That,” said Sparrow, pointing at her with rude directness, “looks fucking weird, Kira.”

  “Hey, it works,” she said, dabbing her cheeks with a damp cloth.

  Half a day was a vanishingly short trip by any measure of stellar or interstellar travel. However, it was a long time to be stuck in a sweltering box of metal where each breath felt suffocating and the walls were unpleasantly warm and no matter what action they took, it only made the situation worse. And it was longer still when waiting to arrive at a location where there was a better than average chance of being vaporized by a laser or missile.

  At Kira’s request, Vishal had given her yet another set of contacts before going to examine Gregorovich. She’d taken them and sequestered herself in her cabin. Keeping themselves spread out within the Wallfish helped disperse the heat, so as to avoid overloading the life-support systems in any one room.

  “This is not good for the Wallfish,” Hwa-jung had said.

  “I know,” Falconi replied. “But she can survive it for a few hours.”

  Kira did her best to distract herself from the reality of their situation by reading and playing games. But she kept thinking about Gregorovich—the more time passed without word from Vishal, the more concerned she became—and fears about Cordova continued to intrude: the presence of the great and mighty Ctein, waiting there like a great fat toad, bloated with its arrogant self-confidence, secure in its cruel strength. The likely response of Admiral Klein to the arrival of the Wallfish and the Knot of Minds in the system. The uncertain outcome of their whole precarious venture …

  No obvious answers presented themselves, but Kira kept chewing over her worries as she read. The situation was so far from anything familiar, the only beacon she had to guide her was her own sense of self. Although, her self had been somewhat tenuous lately, what with the Soft Blade stretching her out the way it did.

  Again she felt the substance of the dark shell that coated the inside of her cabin, flesh of her flesh and yet … not. It was a strange sensation.

  She shook herself, forced her attention back onto the overlays.…

  6.

  Nearly four hours had passed before the intercom clicked on and Falconi said, “Listen up, everyone. Vishal just gave me an update.”

  In her cabin, Kira perked up, eager to hear.

  “Long and the short of it is, Greg is in pretty bad shape. The surge from the impedance block caused damage throughout his neural net. Not only did it burn out a good chunk of the leads, but the connection between the computer and Greg’s brain is continuing to degrade as the neurons that got shocked are dying off.”

  A commotion of concerned and overlapping voices on the line. “Is he going to die?” Sparrow asked with characteristic bluntness.

  “Not unless we all get blown up tomorrow,” said Falconi. “Vishal isn’t sure if this is going to cause permanent problems for Greg or if he’s just going to lose a few extra brain cells. No way to tell at the moment, and the doc can’t exactly wheel Greg into sickbay for a scan. He did say that Greg is probably enduring extreme sensory distortion. Aka, hallucinations. So Vishal is keeping him under sedation, and he’s going to keep working on him.”

  “Aish,” said Hwa-jung. The machine boss sounded unusually emotional. “This is my fault. I should not have thrown the breaker without checking the line first.”

  Falconi snorted. “No, it’s not your fault, Song. You couldn’t have known the block was there, and Greg wasn’t giving us any choices, the stubborn bastard. This is the UMC’s fault and no one else’s. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  “Nossir.”

  “Alright. I’ll let everyone know if there are any changes.” And the intercom clicked off.

  In the dark of her cabin, lit only by the green glow of the fruit-like orbs hanging from the vines th
e Soft Blade had grown, Kira hugged herself. So Gregorovich had made a mistake in not wanting to come to Cordova. He’d still been trying to do the right thing. He didn’t deserve what was happening now, and she hated to think of him trapped alone in the madness of his mind, not knowing what was real, perhaps even thinking that his fellow crewmates had abandoned him. It was terrible to imagine.

  If only … If only she could help.

  Kira looked down at the arm the Soft Blade had made for her. Even if she couldn’t, maybe the xeno could. But no, that was crazy. There was a universe of difference between an arm (or a tree) and a brain, and a mistake with Gregorovich could cause even worse problems.

  She put the thought from her mind.

  7.

  With the tweaks Itari had made to their Markov Drive, the Wallfish was able to dive into Cordova’s gravity well nearly as deeply as the Jellies.

  They dropped out of FTL close to a pitted moon in orbit around a minor gas giant, the location of which the Knot of Minds had given them beforehand. The instant the Markov Drive shut off, Kira, the Entropists, and the crew (except for Vishal) abandoned their self-imposed exile and headed in a group toward Control.

  As they piled into the room, Kira scanned the feed from outside the Wallfish. The moon obscured part of the view, but she could see the Knot of Minds surrounding them, the purple gas giant looming nearby, and several hours coreward, the cluster of dots that marked the location of the Seventh Fleet.

  There were a lot of UMC ships—a lot—but it was what Kira spotted deeper in the system that made her gasp and Hwa-jung mutter, “Shi-bal.” Without seeming to notice, the machine boss put a hand on the back of Sparrow’s shoulder and rubbed, as if to comfort her. Sparrow never blinked.

  A swarm of Jelly ships surrounded a small rocky planet next to the orange, K-type star. And not just ships: stationary construction yards; vast, glittering fields of solar collectors; satellites of every shape and size; defense lasers the size of UMCN corvettes; two beanstalks and four orbital rings for quickly and easily transporting materials from the scarred surface of the planet.

  The Jellies were strip-mining the rocky orb. They had removed a massive amount of material from the crust, enough so that the scars were visible even from space—a crazy patchwork of rectangular excavations cast into sharp relief by shadows along their edges.

  Not all the Jelly ships were meant for fighting, but even so, those that were outnumbered the Seventh Fleet at least two to one. The biggest of them all—the one Kira assumed was the Battered Hierophant—lay alongside the shipyards, a bloated whale wallowing in the gravity well of the planet. Like every other Jelly ship, it was pearl white, ringed with weapon ports, and as was evident by even its small thruster adjustments, far more maneuverable than any human vessel. Several ships hung nearby, but they appeared to be more maintenance vessels than honor guard.

  “Thule,” said Nielsen. “Why doesn’t the Seventh Fleet turn around? They don’t stand a chance.”

  “Physics,” Falconi said grimly. “By the time they decelerate, they’re going to be in range of the Jellies.”

  Then Sparrow said, “Besides, if they try to run, it’ll be easy for the Jellies to catch them. You don’t want to fight a larger force out in interstellar space. There’s no tactical advantages. At least here they have planets, moons, stuff they can use to maneuver around while engaging with the Jellies.”

  “Still…” said Nielsen.

  “Extending radiators,” Morven announced.

  “About time,” said Sparrow. Like the others, she was covered with a slick of sweat.

  As Falconi slid into his seat, Tschetter appeared in the main holo-display. Behind her was a blue-lit room filled with coral-like structures and Jellies that were crawling across the curved bulkheads. “Any problems with the Wallfish, Captain?”

  “All green here.”

  The major seemed satisfied. “Lphet says we’re cleared to pass through the Jellies’ defenses. Tagging the Battered Hierophant for you now.”

  “Looks like we lucked out,” said Kira, gesturing at the flagship. “It doesn’t seem to be overly protected.”

  “No, just by all the blasters, railguns, and missiles it’s carrying,” said Sparrow.

  Tschetter shook her head. “We won’t know for sure what the situation is until we’re closer. The Jellies will move their ships in response to the Seventh. You can see they’re already shifting positions. We’ll just have to hope they don’t decide to surround the Hierophant.”

  “Fingers crossed,” said Falconi.

  “Toes too,” said Sparrow.

  The major looked off-camera for a moment. “We’re ready. Start your burn on our mark.… Mark.”

  The thrust alert sounded, and Kira let out a sigh of relief as a sensation of weight settled over her. Outside, she knew the Knot of Minds was keeping pace with the Wallfish, the Jelly ships arranged in a box-like formation around them. That was the plan, in any case.

  Falconi said, “Stay on the line. I’m going to contact the Seventh.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Morven, get the Seventh Fleet on the line. Tightbeam transmission only. Tell them Kira Navárez is with us and we need to talk with Admiral Klein.”

  “One moment please,” said the pseudo-intelligence.

  “At least the shooting hasn’t started,” said Sparrow.

  “Wouldn’t want to miss the party,” said Falconi.

  They didn’t have to wait long for an answer: the comms blinked with an incoming, and Morven said, “Sir, the UMCS Unrelenting Force is hailing us.”

  “Put it on-screen,” said Falconi.

  Next to Tschetter’s face appeared a live stream of what Kira recognized as a battleship command center. Front and center sat Admiral Klein, stiff-backed, square-jawed, with sloping shoulders, buzzed hair, and four rows of service ribbons pinned to his left breast. Like all career UMCN personnel, he had a deep spacer’s tan, although his was deeper than most, so deep that she guessed he never entirely lost it.

  “Falconi! Navárez! What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing here?” The admiral’s accent was impossible for Kira to place, although she guessed it was from somewhere on Earth.

  “Don’t you get it, sir?” said Falconi. “We’re the cavalry.” And he grinned in a cocky way that made Kira both proud and want to slap him.

  The admiral’s face reddened. “Cavalry?! Son, last I heard, you were locked up on Orsted Station. Somehow I doubt the League just let you go, and they sure as shit wouldn’t send you out here in that pile of rust you call a ship.”

  Falconi looked rather offended by his description of the Wallfish. Kira was more interested in the fact that the UMC hadn’t managed to tell the Seventh about their escape. The fleet must have been running silent, she thought. Or things back at Sol got really bad after we left.

  The admiral wasn’t done: “On top of that, I’m guessing the Jelly ships with you means you warned off the Knot of Minds, which means my hunter-seekers are out wandering around buttfuck nowhere when they could be helping here.” The admiral poked a finger out of the holo, causing Kira to flinch. “And that would be treason, Captain. Same for you, Navárez. Same for all of you.”

  Around the holo, Kira and the crew exchanged glances. “We’re not traitors,” Sparrow said in an injured tone. “Sir.”

  “We’re here to help you,” said Kira, quieter. “If you want to have any chance of surviving this battle, much less winning the war, you need to hear us out.”

  “That so.” Klein seemed spectacularly unconvinced.

  “Yessir. Please.”

  The admiral’s gaze shifted to a point beside the holo, and Kira had a distinct impression that someone was speaking to him off-camera. Then his attention snapped back to them, hard-eyed and uncompromising. “You’ve got one chance to convince me not to classify you as an enemy combatant, Navárez. Make it count.”

  Kira took him at his word. She spoke clearly, quickly, and as straightforwardl
y as she could. And yet, she made no attempt to hide her underlying desperation. That also was important.

  To his credit, the admiral listened without interruption. By the time she’d finished, a dark frown had settled on his face. “That’s a hell of a story, Navárez. You really expect me to believe it?”

  Tschetter was the one to answer. “Sir, you don’t have to believe us. We just need—”

  “Who’s this we and us, Major?” said Klein. “Last I checked, you’re still a uniformed member of the United Military Command. You don’t answer to the Jellies. You answer to your nearest superior officer, and right now, that’s me.”

  In the holo, Tschetter stiffened. “Sir, yessir. I’m aware of that, sir. I’m just trying to answer your question.” It was strange for Kira to see her treating someone else as a figure of authority.

  Klein crossed his arms. “Go on.”

  “Sir. As I was saying, we don’t need you to believe us. We’re not asking for your help, and we’re not asking you to ignore orders. All we’d like is for you to hold your fire as we come through the system. And if we kill Ctein, then don’t attack the Knot of Minds right after. Give them a chance to take command of the Jellies and call off their forces. Admiral, we could end the war between our species in a single blow. That’s worth some risk.”

  “Do you really think you can kill this Ctein?” Klein asked.

  Falconi nodded. “I’d say we have a pretty good chance. Wouldn’t be trying otherwise.”

  The admiral grunted. “My orders were to eliminate the Knot of Minds, the Jelly fleet, and the Jellies’ current leadership, with both the fleet and the leadership being the primary objectives.” He peered at them from beneath his bristling eyebrows. “If you manage to kill Ctein, and if the Knot manages to get control over the rest of the Jellies … Well, then I suppose the Knot would become the new leadership of the Jellies. They wouldn’t be the Knot anymore. That would also serve to neutralize the threat of the Jellies’ fleet.… It’s a bit of a stretch, but I think I could sell it to the Premier.”