Dark Sky (Keiko)

by Mike Brooks

  ‘I have no reason to refuse your offer, Captain, so long as you understand that I will not kill save in defence of my own life, or one of your … of our crew.’

  Drift grinned, relief washing over him as he extended his hand. ‘Then welcome aboard, Chief. I’ll take you to meet the others; a more informal introduction than at your old headquarters.’

  ‘Very well.’ Muradov levered himself to his feet. ‘I am a man who needs purpose in his life, I confess. Having some responsibility for a ship, a crew, even if I am not in command … that would suffice, I think.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ Drift said, following suit and leading the way towards the steps which led up towards the canteen.

  ‘Just one question,’ Muradov said from behind him.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If you were not gunrunning … what were you actually doing on Uragan? I never did believe your story that you were looking for honest shipping work, and I still do not believe it now.’

  Drift chewed the inside of his mouth for a second while he considered his answer. He turned back to Muradov and clasped his hands in front of him.

  ‘Let me begin my answer with a question. I imagine you do not consider yourself to be among the favourites of Sergei Orlov?’

  Muradov’s face darkened. ‘The New Samaran mobster? I should think not: he might have half this system’s government in his pocket, but he never had me.’

  ‘Well then,’ Drift said brightly, already planning where they could run to that was a long, long way from any potential retribution, ‘at least one thing will remain a constant between your old life and your new one! And, uh, here’s why …’

  A TALK

  JENNA WAS TIRED. So very, very tired. They’d survived the storm’s buffeting and were burning through the upper layers of the atmosphere, heading towards where they’d left the Keiko in high orbit. It seemed that Alim Muradov was part of the crew now: she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but since he’d apparently killed Uragan’s governor she supposed he at least wasn’t likely to try to arrest them, which was where her concerns ended. She didn’t really care about anything right now, in all honesty, other than the fact that she really wanted to go to bed. However, she still had one thing left to do before she could sleep.

  She stopped outside a cabin and raised her fist, then paused. The last time she’d been on this shuttle, she’d have hammered on the door without thought. Things had been different then. Uragan had changed so much in her life.

  But she couldn’t go to bed until she’d done this, so she pounded on the door three times, ignoring the dull pain that striking the metal always caused in her hand. There was a buzzer next to the door, but she’d never used it before and she wasn’t going to start now.

  ‘Haere mai!’

  No going back. She jabbed the release, which was indeed unlocked, and waited for the door to hiss aside before stepping into Apirana Wahawaha’s cabin.

  The big man had the second-largest cabin after the Captain’s, in deference to his sheer size. Even so, it seemed small with him in it, lying on the bed and making it look like something designed for the proportions of a young teenager. He’d made it homely, though. One wall was taken up with a huge holoframe that altered images from day to day, all of them apparently of New Zealand. Today’s was one of her favourites: the majestic, snow-capped peak called Taranaki.

  ‘Hey,’ the Maori rumbled, his tone and face neutral. A pad was resting on the bed beside him, but judging by its dark screen he hadn’t actually been using it for a while.

  ‘Hey,’ Jenna replied. The door closed behind her, and then there was just the two of them in this suddenly enclosing space. She gestured to his ankle, propped up on a pillow. ‘How is it?’

  ‘Not so bad,’ Apirana replied, ‘managed to find some more painkillers. At least I’m not gonna need to do much movin’ for a while, except over into the Keiko. Might not even bother, to be honest.’

  ‘Right.’ Jenna simply wasn’t awake enough for further small talk, so she screwed up her courage and went for it. ‘Look, A., I’m nearly asleep so I apologise if this comes out wrong, but I said we’d talk later, and now it’s later. So we’re going to talk.’

  Apirana blinked. ‘We are?’

  ‘Yes, because I said we would talk later, and I keep my word.’

  ‘Okay.’ He sounded a little uncertain, and possibly slightly alarmed. Jenna was suddenly struck by major doubts as to whether this had been a good idea, but she was damned if she was going to back out now.

  ‘I have had two boyfriends in my life. One was called Kris, when I was thirteen, and we watched two holos together which he paid for, and then he kissed my best friend Emma and I swore I would hate them both for ever, because I think that’s what you do when you’re thirteen.’

  To his credit, Apirana didn’t laugh. He just nodded soberly. ‘Right.’

  ‘Then I had another boyfriend called Paulo, when I was … sixteen, going on seventeen. We were together for about two years, and we did … you know, boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. The stuff you do.’ She stumbled to a halt. When Apirana had been seventeen he’d already been in a street gang for two years after fleeing his family home when he’d nearly beaten his own father to death. Swimming pool parties when Jane Hudson’s parents had been away, sneaking out after dark to watch stars under Franklin Minor’s benevolent skies instead of doing homework, staying up late trying to scratch-build your own terminal out of scavenged parts just to see if you could … these were not things she suspected he could easily relate to.

  ‘That ended when he moved away to go to college. We didn’t try to make it work, because I was enrolling on one of the most demanding courses the university had and I didn’t think I’d have time for a relationship. And I didn’t. And then … well, a couple of years after that everything happened with the Circuit Cult and I just … ran away.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘So the relationships I’ve had,’ she said carefully, ‘have been with people my own age, and … from the same background as me. At least from the same planet.’

  She saw his neutral mask start to crack and fall away.

  ‘So I want you to understand,’ she plunged on, ‘that when you said what you did on Uragan, it took me by surprise. I never expected that from you, just because you are so, so different to anyone else I’ve had a relationship with or have ever considered the possibility of having a relationship with. And that’s not a bad thing,’ she added, ‘but it’s a true thing.

  ‘And so I couldn’t wrap my head around that straight away, which meant I clammed up and said nothing, and then Rourke arrived, and then because I hadn’t said anything so far it got harder and harder to start the conversation. And I’m really sorry for that, because you are my friend and you were honest with me.’

  ‘Nah, I get it,’ Apirana said. His voice was somewhat thick and choked, and he seemed to be fascinated by his feet.

  ‘I haven’t got there yet, silly,’ Jenna said gently. She sat down on the edge of his bed and he looked up in surprise. A couple of days ago she’d have done that without thought: now it felt like a big step. ‘It took you saying it to make me realise it, A. I never thought of this ship as anything other than a way out of something I needed to escape, and I never thought I’d want to stay, but after everything that happened down there I’ve realised that I feel like I belong here. And the biggest part of that is you.’

  The big man’s eyebrows climbed so far she thought they’d shoot off his face. ‘Oh. Uh …’

  ‘I’ve done a whole load of things I’d never expected that I’d do, and never wanted to have to do,’ she admitted, feeling her stomach twist slightly. ‘I know you talk about being a thug, but it wasn’t so long ago I was opening a blast door so a revolution could get through to attack a planetary security force. I guess I’ve realised that you pick the people who matter to you and do what you need to do for them. So I hope you can accept that about me. Sometimes I struggle with it.’

&nb
sp; ‘That’s been a whole lotta my life,’ Apirana rumbled softly, ‘I just picked the wrong people for a while.’ He looked at her searchingly. ‘So are you saying …?’

  ‘I’m saying that we’re two adults and I don’t think we need to label anything,’ Jenna told him, smiling slightly. ‘But … yeah. I knew I liked you and I trusted you, more so than pretty much anyone else I’ve met, but I guess you just have that expectation of what something’s going to be like for you? And then you might need to readjust your thinking when something totally different comes along. So I have, and … you and me. I’d like to see where that goes. If that’s okay with you.’

  A huge, genuine and possibly ever-so-slightly goofy grin spread across the big Maori’s face. ‘Hell yeah, that’s okay with me.’

  Jenna exhaled as tension left her body, and suddenly found that words didn’t work any longer. ‘I, look, I’m really tired and I’m going to bed, but I wanted to speak to you first, because … because. So, we’ve spoken, and I’m glad of that, and I reckon we both need sleep and then we talk again, tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Apirana nodded. His eyes were still a little wide, but not from the furious anger she’d witnessed on occasion. He looked more like someone had dumped a pail of ice water over his head, but he was oddly happy about it. ‘Um. Goodnight, then.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ She smiled nervously and got up, waved and felt immediately stupid for doing so, then pressed the release button on the door behind her and stepped out into the corridor. As soon as the door hissed shut again she collapsed against the wall. ‘Holy shit. That should not have been that hard.’

  ‘What shouldn’t?’

  Jenna had never truly appreciated the term ‘jumped out of her skin’ until now, as she whirled around in a roiling mixture of terror, anger and sleep deprivation. Tamara Rourke stepped out of the slight recess of her own cabin’s doorway, her expression bland.

  ‘You …’ Jenna fought down a sudden impulse to lunge for the older woman. Only the sure and certain knowledge that it would lead to at least moderate injury stopped her, but she still marched up to Rourke and leaned down into her face. ‘Were you spying on me?!’

  To her astonishment, Rourke leaned back slightly. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, I—’ Jenna paused as her brain caught up with her ears. ‘Hang on, what do you mean, yes?’

  ‘You and Apirana have been acting weirdly since I met up with you again on Uragan,’ Rourke said simply. ‘It’s not like you, either of you: you’re easily the closest two on this ship, and I include myself and Ichabod in that.’

  ‘And what business is that of yours?’ Jenna demanded.

  ‘First of all, this ship and this crew survives on us all pulling together,’ Rourke said. She still looked tired, but she’d collapsed into her cabin immediately after Jia had taken over the Jonah’s controls and she’d shown a remarkable ability to at least partially recharge her figurative batteries on minimal sleep. ‘We can just about deal with the Changs’ squabbling, but if you and A. fell out properly then that’s the sort of dynamic that could tear us apart.’ She shrugged. ‘Secondly, I used to be a damn spy. Information was my life. I’m nosy by nature.’

  ‘All you need to know,’ Jenna told her haughtily, ‘is that we have not fallen out, and if I catch you spying on me again then you and I will fall out. And you won’t enjoy that, even if you can kill me with one hand!’

  For a moment she thought she’d pushed too far, as the realisation dawned through her anger that Tamara Rourke had been nearing the end of her tether through stress only an hour or so ago. Being shouted at, being threatened by the Jonah’s youngest crew member might just be the straw to break this particularly stoic camel’s back.

  Then Rourke nodded, perhaps a little sadly. ‘I understand. And I apologise. It wasn’t my place.’ She smiled, ever so slightly, but there was melancholy there. ‘Ever since Old Earth … well, I didn’t want any other surprises coming out of this crew. I don’t think anyone’s hiding the sort of skeletons that Ichabod was, but all the same … but I guess I just have to trust people, or I’ll become the sort of problem I’m trying to avoid.’

  She stepped back into her cabin doorway and activated her own door release. ‘Goodnight, Jenna. I’m sorry, again.’

  ‘Goodnight, Tamara.’ Jenna waited until the door slid shut behind the former GIA agent, then turned and made her way towards her own cabin before she could bump into anyone else and start another fight. Tomorrow was a new day, if such a thing really existed up here away from all units of time other than the purely arbitrary, and it would contain new things. Exciting things. Possibly slightly scary things.

  And the Jonah climbed on, far enough up now that terms like up and down were starting to become simply a case of where you were standing, towards the Keiko.

  Towards home.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I WILL, ONCE more, start my acknowledgements with an apology.

  When I was creating the universe of the Keiko and its crew, I wanted to keep much of the cultural individuality that marks the world today. Although it can be a source of conflict, I also feel that humanity’s diversity is one of our most interesting attributes. However, as someone who has never lived (indeed, has rarely even travelled) outside of the UK, my personal experience of other cultures is somewhat limited. In Dark Sky I have once more used Apirana Wahawaha the Maori, possibly the crew member with a culture most starkly different to my own, and I apologise to the Maori people individually or collectively for any inaccuracies in his portrayal that may cause offence. However, this time I’ve also set the novel on planets with strong Russian influences, and I hope just as fervently that no readers feel that my depiction is unfair (I make no apologies for individual characters – there are bad apples everywhere, after all).

  With that out of the way (again), thanks go first to my agent Rob Dinsdale, whose assistance got me to the stage of, for the first time, writing a novel where I knew before I started it that I’d get paid for it. That was a hell of a feeling, let me tell you. I am indebted to both him and my editor Michael Rowley for their insight, suggestions, and willingness to put up with my default initial position of WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SHOULD CHANGE THAT, IT’S FINE AS IT IS AND HERE’S WHY.

  Speaking of Michael, I should also mention and thank the entire team at Del Rey UK including Emily, Tess and Clarissa, who’ve not just made sure that all the things that need to happen for a novel to work actually happened, but also that it’s been suitably and enthusiastically waved at people to persuade them to buy and/or review it (or ‘publicity and marketing’, as I believe it’s called). Also, the cover art. I love Dark Sky’s cover art, even more than I liked Dark Run’s.

  Special thanks go to Liudmila for ensuring that the Russian in this book is as close to authentic as you can get with the Latin alphabet. Any errors in the text are most definitely mine, not hers.

  Thank you to everyone who’s read anything I’ve written so far and has said anything nice about it … and even the people who’ve been critical, because I want to get better at this writing thing, and I’m unlikely to do that if I’m in an echo chamber of unconditional praise.

  And finally, and most importantly, thank you to my wife Janine for being supportive of my wish to make stuff up and have other people read it, and the corresponding demands on my time. And also being interested to read what I’m writing without going, “Haven’t you finished it yet?” or other such unhelpful comments. In this, as in so many other things, you are the best person I could share my life with.

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  Epub ISBN: 9781473502956

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  Del Rey, an imprint of Ebury Publishing,

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  Del Rey is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com

  Copyright © Mike Brooks 2015

  Mike Brooks has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  First published in the UK in 2015 by Del Rey

  www.eburypublishing.co.uk

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9780091956653