“I’m not afraid of you, Commander,” Ersu said. “I’ve put bigger wolves than you into silver-lined cages.”
Rainer bent down, bracing his hands on the table and Ersu’s chair. “And I’ve killed better commanding officers than you. But I don’t need to kill you, because you’re already dead.”
Ersu held Rainer’s gaze, and stood, slowly, pushing up against the wolf’s weight. “Do you have a plan, or are you just here to growl?”
Rainer stepped back with a shrug of his shoulders. “Both. You cannot fabricate the resources to do the repairs. I have a preliminary design that will allow you to reinforce existing structures with one-use supports. With the right course and some additional engine modifications, you should get almost ninety-two seconds of full engine burn without further hull damage.”
“And?” Ersu demanded.
“Set course for Sunderer.”
“Why the hell would we go to Sunderer’s corpse?” Sirtis demanded as her fellow officers sat upright.
“Salvage or abandon ship.”
“Abandon LightBearer? Are you insane?!” Ersu bellowed.
“Captain,” Lachesis shot to her feet, her tone yanking Rainer back like a rough hand on his collar before her husband could throttle the Captain, or worse, “we know where Sunderer is.”
Ersu turned a shade of purple similar to her uniform, his lips compressed into such a furious line that they were a white slash across his flushed face. “And it might be a floating biohazard full of gore and blood.”
“Fine, if you don’t like that idea, it’s Year Seventy-Three. Use the last burn to set course for Earth. You’ll have to drift there over years, but you’ll make it.”
“Is everyone on NightPiercer an idiot?” Sirtis demanded. “This is the best you can come up with? Salvage from Sunderer or go back to Earth? Sit down. You already got thrown out of one room for incompetence.”
“I’m not the XO that let the Captain fly a ship that literally howls in distress because all the safeties are off,” Lachesis retorted. “Don’t tell me how to do my job when you clearly can’t do yours.”
“You. Out!” Ersu bellowed and pointed at the door.
Rainer spun around on the older Captain. “There’s a reason NightPiercer was twenty years ahead of this ship, even when my great-grandfather told the world what was happening. Here we go again, Captain. I’m telling you that you have twenty months. Use them wisely.”
“Do not play pedigree games with me, wolf. You’re not Hade. You’re his thrice-removed spawn, and that’s twelve percent of him at best.”
Rainer met him step for step, eye-even with the Captain. “I don’t care about you, Ersu. You or anyone else at this table. I care about everyone else on this stinking, cold, rotting, damp ship with its warped hull that hopes you lot know what you’re doing.”
Lachesis gathered up her tablets. She gestured to Simone, Kos, and Jess, then left without another word.
“Why did we leave?” Kos asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Fuckkkk whatever we just sawwww….” Simone intoned.
“Is everyone on this ship crazy? Is this what .88G does to you? Makes you deluded?” Jess whispered. “Like a lot of little brain bleeds?”
Rainer and Juan weren’t far behind. Rainer brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder, smelling of violence and satisfaction.
“Is he dead?” Lachesis eyed him up and down.
“Darling, why would I kill a dead man? That’s just a waste of my time,” Rainer said pleasantly. “They decided they want to patch the ship and go to Sunderer. Plot them some preliminary courses, and throw in an option for Earth.”
“Earth, you say?” she asked, heart lifting. “I’ve never plotted a course to Earth before.”
“Too tiny a target to hit?”
“It seems like bad luck to even waste a CPU cycle on it.” She entwined her arm with his. Earth. A course to Earth. Her first one.
“Ersu needs all the luck we can muster, good, bad or indifferent.”
“Earth,” Simone said with a wistful sigh. “These lucky delusional assholes might just get to head towards Earth.”
Lachesis shifted her cards. “Go fish.”
Juan reached in the pile of cards in the center of the floor. Rainer’s back was to them as he sketched, sitting cross-legged on his top bunk.
“Think they’ll be able to find and salvage from Sunderer?” Simone asked no one in particular.
They’d voted to stay until after the next Io transit. For all they hated this place and the people in charge of it, there were a lot of people they didn’t want to abandon.
Lachesis said, “We more or less know where Sunderer is. It’s tracked like any piece of dangerously large and overly close space debris. Nobody knows the conditions on the inside.”
Juan passed Jess some cards. “There’s residual heat in the drive section. Someone shut down the main drive cores, or they went into failsafe shutdown.”
“So the Sunderer plan isn’t full crazy,” Kos said.
Jimenez grunted. “Smaller ship, and there’s probably blood and gore everywhere. It’s third gen too.”
“Give me all your sevens,” Lachesis said to Jimenez. “What do you mean, third generation?”
“Go fish. We sort the ships by generation. Like NightPiercer is generation one. First ship built, best of the group. Ark and LightBearer are second generations, while Haven was fifth.”
“You mean which ones got the best materials and resources and people.”
“Yep. Not the same generations you Crèche-Lords talk about.”
“Crèche-Lords. That’s one I haven’t heard before.”
“Yeah, from all of us to Crèche, fuck you.”
Lachesis laughed. “Civilization Management isn’t the way to popularity on Ark either.”
“And you still wanted to do it knowing everyone resents you?” Simone asked.
Jess nudged her and muttered, “Chill.”
“I mean, I just don’t understand why anyone wants to do Civilization Management unless they’re kind of egotistical control freaks that like playing at being some old-world god,” Simone said matter-of-factly.
“Sounds like Operations.” What was it Clotho had said just before she’d left? That Lachesis had always had to fight her way to the top of a heap? Always had to be in control or special?
The head of Crèche on Ark had always seemed so lonely. He had a wife and kid, but there was always a lingering scent of loneliness around him. Commander Keenan on NightPiercer wasn’t Lachesis’ favorite person, but she didn’t even have a kid or spouse. Keenan’s flat-faced facade struck Lachesis as just a couple layers of nacre.
Nobody got into Crèche because they woke up one morning and said gee, my life goal is to be the most hated and lonely person on the ship.
Juan said, “Ersu got the message. They’re doing the salvage and hull repairs. Just had to beat them about the head with their tablets.”
“If our choice was salvage or Earth, I want to take my chances on Earth,” Simone said wistfully. “I’m saying it now. That salvage is gonna go badly. Everyone on Sunderer is dead, and they didn’t die quiet. Got any eights, Cheshire?”
GTFO
Rainer pulled off his boots and shoved them in the closet. He sat down next to her, yanked the harness across his shoulders, and keyed in the start sequence. “You ready?”
“Course in and ready to go.” She’d manually dosed herself with some of the drugs that would control her heart rate and blood pressure. This was not going to be a comfortable flight. She’d checked and re-checked her flight plan and the orbital data—which assumed Bob had actually given her accurate data, which was a big assumption—and they were just at the cusp of being able to escape LightBearer and go straight to NightPiercer.
Operative word being escape: regardless of if they headed for Ark or NightPiercer, escaping Jupiter’s grip and traversing the charged environment wasn’t going to be easy on any of them.
“Everyone strap in and hold on,” Rainer told the crew as the ramp raised.
“Is this going to be bad?” Jess asked.
“The worst,” Lachesis said.
The shuttle began to rattle and rumble. The lights in front of the bay doors spun up, and the rest of the lights in the bay turned off, bathing the entire bay in rotating bands of yellow.
The bay doors ground open.
“Fuck,” she whispered to herself.
The bay was pointed right at Jupiter.
Without the filter of the thick windows on ship—and instead just the relatively thin couple of centimeters of screen separating her from Jupiter—the planet’s spiraling, swirling patterns were even more vivid and hypnotic.
“For centuries we wondered what this view would look like,” Rainer’s voice said softly in her ear through the comms, “and having seen it, I can firmly say I’d rather not have.”
“They didn’t come to say goodbye,” Juan said, trying to inject some humor.
“The next time I want to see any of these assholes is on Earth,” Simone said. “So I can punch all of them.”
“Get in line,” Lachesis said.
“But there won’t be enough left of them to punch by the time you and the boss get done with them,” Simone whined.
Lachesis giggled.
“Don’t distract her,” Jimmiez said. “You can do this right? Boss? Lake?”
The shuttle’s engines heated up to a full burn. Rainer balanced them with delicate taps of his fingers.
“Come on,” she told him lightly. “I know you’re better with your hands than that.”
Hoots from the bay.
“I am taking my time so it is exactly how you want it,” Rainer replied.
More hoots and clapping.
“I’ve been on this ship too long. I’m feeling a bit impatient,” she said.
“If I make you wait, will you start growling and biting?”
“I might just take matters into my own hands.”
Behind them (and in their ears) hollering and hoots and whistles.
The shuttle rattled and shimmied on its struts. “There. Everything there is, but I can probably find some more if you can’t be satisfied by this.”
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “Pervert.”
“You started it.”
“And I’ll finish it later.”
“As if I needed further incentivization to get off this ship. Damn, I do love how demanding you are.”
“You did tell me I was your type on our first flight.”
“I think that’s enough chatter for now.” Rainer turned and grinned at her, finger hovering over one particular button on the panel. “I think you need something to occupy your mind. How about… this?”
The struts snapped up against the belly.
The shuttle shot forward out of the bay, plunging right towards Jupiter.
The shuttle shot forward at full burn, streaking away from LightBearer.
The shuttle pivoted ninety degrees to port, swinging out in a wide, looping arc, and flung itself back the way they’d come.
“Fuck!” Simone screamed.
Sparks spewed out from the hatch to the tail assembly.
Rainer glanced in that direction.
“Is that a problem?” Lachesis asked as she watched their trajectory and keyed in adjustments. Warnings streamed across her screens about hull stress. A strange blue glow started on the shuttle’s nose—whatever it was, it couldn’t be a good thing. The AI kicked in to change the shuttle’s extreme angle. She turned it off. The shuttle started to bounce and jostle in space, sending off a fresh mess of alarms and some more sparks.
Rainer shrugged. “No, not a problem.”
“You sure about that? Because that looks like that might be a problem.”
A very loud clunk under their feet made Rainer look down.
“And that?” she inquired innocently.
“That sounded serious.” After a second, when an alarm flickered on one of the screens, he said, “It is. Lost a piece of hull plating. Wire mesh is exposed.”
“This is bringing back memories,” she said.
“Good memories?”
“Not especially.” With the wiremesh compromised, she focused on keeping the shuttle’s attitude and speed as planned.
Rainer silenced some of the alarms. Heat came up through the floor grate.
A loud bank, and the shuttle rocked hard. She fought it back onto course as it started to rattle and jostle most aggressively. “What the hell was that?”
“We hit some kind of pocket,” he said as the scent of something singed came up through the floor. In her ears, there was whimpering and soft mewling from their cargo.
Pocket? What kind of pocket? She dismissed it. They barely understood the plasma torus that surrounded Jupiter (beyond understanding very dangerous, do not approach) and they were skimming through the periphery of it in the space equivalent of a bucket with some rockets strapped to it.
The shuttle’s course bent it back towards LightBearer, this time sailing over the ship, and giving a spectacular view of the old, light-dotted bulk.
The shuttle’s quivering continued, as did the strange blue light baking the exterior shell.
Rainer’s fingers rested over one particular panel. “Decision time.”
She worked her jaw. Already? Of course already. LightBearer receded behind them. Keep on course for NightPiercer, twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes away, or set course for Ark, eight hours and twenty-two minutes away, then make the six-hour flight to NightPiercer, either in a repaired shuttle or wait for retrieval.
Rainer stared at her, calm despite the warning lights and bells, waiting for her answer. Going to Ark wasn’t just the complex political and diplomatic math that would govern their landing somewhere other than their own bay. For her it was personal. Captain Tomely had sold her, and if Ersu was any clue, he’d be furious about her wearing stripes.
But she’d see her family. She might never have another chance. She’d be able to explain all of it in person. But what would she tell them? Would she and Clotho fight again? Would Tomely even let her see them?
It’d also mean asking her crewmates to endure another shuttle launch sequence, and an additional two hours of the dangers in the void. It’d mean putting another shuttle at risk to retrieve them, and another two of NightPiercer’s scarce pilots.
Another wash of sparks from the tail access port.
The worst part of the flight was over. Even with the damaged wiremesh, the sensor grid and instruments were still more or less intact. She could make it to NightPiercer. There was no reason to deviate.
Her eyes stung with tears, and she batted hard to keep them inside because tears would just drift around and get into the wiring and corrode things. She wanted to see her family, and they were so close, and she’d never get another chance again.
“Pilot flying says NightPiercer,” Lachesis said, voice cracking.
Rainer looked in Ark’s direction. He hesitated a moment as he scanned the instruments, but he wasn’t seeing a shuttle in distress that couldn’t make the trek. “NightPiercer it is.”
Cheers from the bay.
Lachesis closed her eyes to hold in the tears.
She unbuckled her harness and breathed for a few minutes.
The rest of the team stumbled down the ramp in a tumble like eager puppies.
Rainer unbuckled as well, and shifted in his seat to face her.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I know you wanted to go to Ark.”
She nodded, her throat too tight and dry to speak.
Rainer offered her his hand. She accepted it, enjoying the prickle of energy as their skin touched.
Jess and Xav were holding each other, sobbing from happiness. Juan had to sit down. Simone was kneeling over the ship’s floor, telling her how she’d never leave it again.
&
nbsp; Captain Tsu, Commander Bennett, and Doctor Forrest were there.
Tsu strode forward to offer Rainer his hand. The males clasped wrists, and Tsu said, “Glad to have all of you back, Commander. Rough flight?”
“Very. Shuttle probably won’t fly again, but,” he glanced behind himself at the shuttle, which sank sadly on one of its broken little legs. It had lost a number of tiles, a large piece of the tailplane had peeled up, it looked strangely charred and pitted, and the wire harness sagged off the nose and belly, “we made it back.”
NightPiercer’s air smelled clear and crisp, like a Biome compared to the mildewy decay of LightBearer.
“Were you able to help LightBearer?” Tsu asked. “We haven’t been able to make direct contact with the ship, and Ark hasn’t been willing to relay messages. What did you do to piss off Ark?”
Doctor Forrest silently approached Lachesis, tapping his tablet as he studied her. She winced as her comm prickled behind her ear.
Rainer, one eye on Forrest, told Tsu, “I imagine it’s we found a use for their cull, and now they’re mortified. It’ll be in my report. Read it with your favorite drink. LightBearer is going to do temporary repairs, but they are down to two options: head to Earth, or head to Sunderer to salvage or abandon ship.”
Tsu rocked back on his heels. Bennett folded his arms. “That bad?”
Rainer resettled his weight, expression and scent dark. “The situation was not as represented. To us or to Ark. They will have a flight window to Sunderer in six months, and Earth in thirteen. They will be on their own and isolated soon, but they can make it out. But it would not be an exaggeration to say the situation is desperate, and the ship is dying.”
“And it has brain cancer,” Jimmiez muttered.
“It will be in my report,” Rainer said. “But the team did exemplary work under extremely difficult circumstances and conditions.”
Separated Starlight (NightPiercer Book 2) Page 29