The Return of the Grey

by Robert Lee Henry

  La Mar had come down the corridor from the security point with Zinni of the Seventh and Johnson of Supply. Zinni, as usual, was all eyebrows and darting curiosity, but Johnson had tears in his eyes. These ran free when they reached the site. Nothing was said. Quartermaine and a big serviceman stood to one side. Some others came up from the side corridor but La Mar was too enthralled by the scene in front of her to register details. So much blood. But no fight. Why didn’t the girl fight? La Mar’s fists clenched. The young psych had shown so much promise. How could we lose her? She clamped down on her mounting anger. Not now, not here. She forced her thoughts on. The psychs are too exposed. No one to look after them. But they can’t function with escorts. Disregarding the blood in front of her, she set her mind to the problem but didn’t get far before a sense of tension pulled her around.

  Trahern had been propped against the wall nearby, folded at the waist in a stiff-legged sprawl. Medium stun, she recognised. A Security man stood beside him, stunner at his head. There’s where the tension is coming from. The guard is damn near shitting himself. And for good reason. He’s way too close. She approached, signaled him to move back, directing him with a finger until he was in position, at the edge of his hand stunner’s range with a clear field of fire. She indicated she was going closer. He nodded, steady now. Give them someone else to worry about and they settle down. She knelt close to Trahern. His eyelids were twitching. He will come out soon. She looked around to check that he would have a clear view of the scene then turned her head back up to the security guard. Her eyes told him to stun them both if Trahern moved. Specialist Celene appeared out of the shadows behind the guard. How long has she been there? wondered La Mar.

  La Mar returned all her attention to the Grey. His eyes opened, blinking away the effects of the stun, becoming aware. The pain that gathered there when he saw Briodi was so intense that La Mar felt it in her chest. He did not try to move, no struggle or gesture, no turning away. Slowly the grey eyes became distant, the light of care fading into a cryptocrystalline dullness. I have just seen a man turn to stone.

  Legs appearing beside her made her look up. The burning intent on the Specialist’s face contrasted dramatically with Trahern’s opaqueness. She looks like she wants to cut out his heart to see if ‘murderer’ is written on the back, thought La Mar. And she would drop it on the ground and walk away without a care if it was blank.

  La Mar caught the Grey’s shirtfront and pulled him to his feet as she rose. He was tall but she was strong. ‘Not tonight,’ she said to Celene. Louder, she called across to Quartermaine, ‘I’m taking him with me. We will be with the Amazons if you need us.’ She pulled Trahern’s arm over her shoulder.

  Strong as she was, his height made progress awkward until Johnson caught up to them and took his other arm. She was grateful to this solid man. Not only for this assistance. Of them all, he had been the only one to shed tears. At the Security point, they had found Bethane and Gati waiting.

  That was days ago. Now, they are waiting again, and I better move my arse. She heard the bang and felt it in the floor as she entered the training section. Rhone and Trahern, what a match-up! In the past, she would have been in just as much a hurry to get here, but only to observe. She wouldn’t have interfered. Hardsuits were near indestructible, impervious to all but the heaviest fire. In training, the body inside could get bruised and concussed but that was about it. But she had learned that there were no absolutes around Trahern anymore. Rhone could get herself killed.

  A second crash nearly jarred her off her feet. Damn! That was hard! If the suits don’t fail, the walls will. Bethane, in a helmet-less hardsuit, waved to her urgently from the door to the grav chambers. La Mar turned without breaking stride. Bethane swung the door shut as La Mar jumped through. Heavy steel with a manual lock, like a hatch on an old fashioned vessel, its resounding clunk was lost in the next concussion. This time La Mar did lose her feet, colliding with two helmets and taking the lot across the narrow floor, to make her own contribution to the clamour against the inner wall. She ended on her back with her legs over her head, looking up at a startled Gati. What a handsome man to see between your legs, thought La Mar absurdly. There was another crash from inside as he helped her up.

  ‘They are moving faster,’ said Gati over his shoulder to Bethane. All three pressed their faces to the view ports. Dull grey light infused the inner chamber, a sphere of around seventy metres diameter. A shape rocketed past. It took a moment for La Mar to adjust. Damn, that was fast! She picked up another in the depths, just before the two came together, to part again at speed. Two crashes sounded almost simultaneously. They’re using the walls to rebound, she realised. Like a high speed game of 3D billiards. This would work as long as they hit square, but angled, on an arm or leg, they could break a joint. Even square, if they went harder, they would crack a suit. The other chambers had breathable air, this one did not. To get zero gravity, they had to use a near vacuum with a very thin helium dominant gas. There was a little oxygen in the mix. Some always came in through the locks when subjects entered, but not enough. I better get inside, thought La Mar.

  Bethane followed her to the racks at the end of the room. La Mar’s suit hung from the front of the overhead belt. Bethane must have done this when she called me. Good. It saved the five or ten minutes it usually took to get a suit from storage. Bethane talked as she dressed.

  ‘Gati and I had just finished zero G. Trahern entered as we left. We watched from out here for a while but all he did was kick off and drift. Just wanted to be alone, we thought … after all that’s happened.’ The scar-faced woman leaned her head in against La Mar’s. Very quietly she said, ‘That young Briodi must have got through to him, and not in a psych way. Gati said he was different, alive again that day.’

  La Mar didn’t need to be told this. She’d seen it in the Grey’s eyes in that bloody corridor. She rubbed her brow against Bethane’s. She feels his hurt also, thought La Mar. Maybe more than anyone else, even Gati, because she knows the miracle of sudden care and what its loss would be like. In all the years that they had known each other, Bethane had only shown interest in craft and flying. Few people of any sort had got past her scars. But somehow Gati had.

  A close concussion returned her sense of urgency. She slapped the shoulders of Bethane’s hardsuit and turned to find her helmet. ‘Then what?’ she asked brusquely.

  ‘We went next door to half G to do some atmosphere work. Not long after, we felt the bangs. We got back here as quickly as we could. We thought it was just Trahern,’ said Bethane.

  Gati spoke from the window. ‘His heart is very dark. He doesn’t like the suit. To go in at all was … ‘ He shrugged his shoulders, not being able to find the right words.

  ‘Then we saw Rhone,’ continued Bethane. ‘She was slamming him. At first he didn’t try to evade, but as their speed picked up he slipped a few. Now he is hitting her. They are faster than any I’ve ever seen in there. Even if their suits hold, it will be ‘hard balls’ for them soon if we don’t stop them.’

  La Mar agreed. Before new recruits were allowed to enter the zero G chamber, a little demonstration was run. The marines had developed it. It saved a lot of words. Two small hard plastic balls were thrown in forcefully and the chamber sealed. The balls picked up velocity with every collision, until the drumming on the walls became almost constant and they moved too fast to be seen. The demonstration ended when the balls shattered. Rhone and Trahern were doing something similar, using the rebound of their suits to increase velocity. Few knew it, but the main component of a hardsuit was the same compound as the ‘hard balls’.

  Whether Rhone meant it to go this far or not was immaterial. I doubt either of them have the control to stop now, concluded La Mar. With Trahern’s abilities this could be close to murder.

  ‘He is playing with her,’ stated Gati, echoing her thoughts. ‘Listen to it. It builds.’

  ‘You and I in there with a cable net, maybe we could slow them,’ Bethane
cried.

  Like catching a comet, and as difficult to hang on to, thought La Mar, but she didn’t hesitate, nodding her head ‘yes’ and leading Bethane into the first lock. Gati threw the heavy net in at their feet and swung the hatch closed.

  Two locks to cycle through, we’ll be too late. The movements required ran through her head, accompanied by the bizarre music of the hammering collisions. We will enter on the last note!

  Her sense of timing was correct. She bulled the hatch open early, spilling a fog of air into the dull interior. It dissipated in the time it took her to find the figures. A limp suit, with a mist of its own trailing from cracks on the chest and back, arced up toward the centre at an appalling pace. Rhone, she knew. Another shape rocketed in from the dim heights. ‘NO!’ La Mar shouted.

  The smash was strangely close. Disoriented, she was knocked to the side as Bethane threw her shoulder into the returning hatch. That’s where the noise was from, she realised. She was falling but couldn’t take her eyes off the joined figures. They were spinning madly. Trahern hadn’t hit to smash and caroom off. He had caught Rhone and pulled her into a deadly spiral, ready to be released with more impetus to shatter on the walls. La Mar pulled her legs in under herself to brace for a jump to try and get between if the trajectories allowed.

  She didn’t have to kick off, only straighten slowly to receive the misty form as it sailed gently to her arms.

  There was blood on the inside of the faceplate and on Rhone’s slack face. But the blood bubbled near nose and mouth. She’s alive! La Mar passed her back through the hatch to Bethane then swung it closed. He didn’t kill her. That’s one saved. Now I have to save the other. She launched herself up towards the Grey.

  *

  No! Don’t go up, lamented Gati behind the glass. His dark song isn’t done. Leave him to it or you will be dragged into his tragedy! He seeks death.

  Other people entered behind him, three Amazons. He signalled to them to close the outer door so that he could open the locks. Bethane was on her knees in the near lock with her face pressed to Rhone’s. One arm cradled the big Amazon’s head, the other was down the front of the hardsuit.

  Bethane glanced up quickly. Blood coated her lips and ran out along her scars. ‘She stopped breathing! Alert Med!’ She dropped her bloody face back down to Rhone.

  Gati checked to see that one of the Amazons was on the comm, then picked up his helmet and stepped into the lock. He knelt beside Bethane and put his hand on top of hers on Rhone’s chest. He felt it lift. Bethane half smiled to him as she continued her measured breaths. He showed her his helmet and nodded toward the next lock. Then he rose. She kept her eye on him as long as she could, tears forming and spilling from her face to Rhone’s.

  I have to stop him. He is my brother now. In his mind, Gati explained to Bethane, although he knew she understood already. He didn’t have the skill to catch Trahern but he could get in the way. They could end this together. It needn’t involve La Mar. The other Amazons stilled as they read his intent.

  ‘Wait!’ cried a dark-haired woman from her place at the view ports as he stepped into the last lock. ‘Look at this!’ she said. ‘You must see this!’ The others moved to the ports. She waved hard with her arm for Gati to come.

  They made space for him against the glass. The two figures were still moving fast, although only one was hitting the walls flat. The other was kicking off. There was no contact between the two.

  ‘Look at her fly,’ said the dark-haired woman with a lift of her chin.

  The second figure, La Mar, it must be, was using all her skill to cut across Trahern’s path, arms or legs pulling in, twisting, sometimes somersaulting, to match her body to his for a moment only centimetres apart as they rocketed past. His path was sure, determined by the rebound from the walls. Hers was different each time. Mesmerized by the intricate motion, the watchers went silent. Behind them a Med team arrived. More Amazons crowded in. Gati heard Bethane telling them to make room for the stretcher then she joined him at the glass, sliding up under his arm.

  There was a subtle shift in the action in the chamber. La Mar’s passes were gradually altering, not as close at their confluence, her facing slightly late. ‘She tires,’ said someone.

  No, thought Gati. I know what she is doing. That she could think of it stunned him even more than her skill. She is dancing! A dance can change a song. It can change a mood. How could you not live when you dance? She is trying to lead him away from his despair. He exulted when he saw Trahern use his hands against the wall for the first time. He follows! Gati could not contain himself. ‘How she dances!’ He wanted to push back from the wall and throw his arms up, himself, but the scene and the crowd held him.

  Infinitesimally, Trahern altered his contact, eventually orienting himself to the walls to once again match the other figure. Now the dance changed. They came close longer, started to progress across the sphere in intricate loops. Finally they touched. A light brush of the tip of La Mar’s arm traced a line across Trahern’s chest. Another time she slid her chest across his. He caught her and spun. Together they kicked off and their speed went up again. Spinning tightly, opening out to slow, they flew elaborate patterns that arced across the sphere. The long parabolas eventually slowed them, until a final slow drift took them to the hatch.

  *

  La Mar sat with her back against the wall on the bench beside the suit rack. Her legs hurt. She had to move them every few minutes or they would cramp. She’d chased all the others out. Trahern, she had sent to Med. The Grey had not said a word but his eyes had not left her throughout the babble and backslapping that went on while they got out of their suits. If those grey eyes had taken on the look of awe that had shown on his handsome cadreman’s face, she would have hit him. But, if anything, they were introspective. Good. Think about it, thought La Mar. That’s what she was trying to do now, in the quiet.

  She knew she had done something extraordinary and she didn’t want to lose it. Her plan had been to divert him, to break him out of his pattern, hoping he would reconsider. But it had become more than that. She was a muscular woman. Sturdy would be a kind description from those with fixed ideas of beauty. Solid, she called herself and that is how she moved, sure and strong, an anchor for those around her. However, in a suit at low G, it was different. Most people found suits restraining and clumsy. In a suit she found grace.

  She had lost herself in the dance, no sense of exertion or plan, the thread of woman to man the nearest thought. It was wonderful. The ache of it overwhelmed her. Tears came to her eyes. The feeling subsided but she fixed it in her memory.

  She was lucky to save that much. The door swung open at the same time a knock sounded. Aesca or Quartermaine, guessed La Mar. It was the later.

  ‘What happened here?’ was his greeting.

  ‘Some training got a little out of hand, that’s all, Commander,’ answered La Mar. ‘They both knocked some edges off. They’ll be better for it.’

  Rhone’s helmet was lying on its side near the inner lock. Quartermaine walked across and bent to pick it up. ‘Trahern will be better?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s alive, that’s enough for today,’ she answered.

  Quartermaine examined the helmet without replying.

  He wants more, thought La Mar. Okay. This is between commanders. ‘He will never be what he could have been. That chance ended in blood the other night. But he can contribute to the Guard.’ She leaned forward to knead her thighs. ‘They say he wove two hundred ships. I believe he is capable of more. We will need him when the Ships come again.’

  ‘You would trust him with so much?’ asked Quartermaine.

  ‘That’s your call not mine,’ said La Mar.

  ‘I’m asking you. Is he ready now?’

  La Mar took her time answering. He framed that right. We think alike. ‘No. He is not ready now. There is still something holding him back. We have to find it and knock it out of him before the time comes.’

  ‘That sounds ex
treme,’ he said.

  ‘We don’t have a light hand left,’ said La Mar. ‘Briodi could have done it and kept him whole, but we’ve lost her. We’re going to have to smash him and take what we get. You can’t leave a stone with a flaw in it, can’t depend on it to hold, not in our line of work.’

  ‘It could shatter him,’ said Quartermaine, picking up the metaphor.

  ‘Well, there’s a use for gravel as well as stone, as my father used to say,’ said La Mar.

  Quartermaine wiped the inside of Rhone’s helmet with a towel. The blood was dry and not much came off. He wet the towel at the side tap and tried again. ‘These helmets will have to be modified if they want to go that hard. You can’t have free space in front of the face. Have to fill all this in with padding.’ He showed her the inside of the helmet.

  I know what the inside of a helmet looks like, thought La Mar. There’s something else you want to say. Well, get on with it, old man. I’m not made of glass. I know I almost lost two people today.

  ‘This is dangerous now.’ He waved to indicate the chamber. ‘Once one has done it, others will try.’

  ‘That’s easily fixed,’ said La Mar. ‘Rig sensors in the walls to open an air vent if they hit too hard. It will give them something to breathe if a suit gets cracked and will bring back gravity. Serves them right if the air and gravity slam them around.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that hurt the zero G mechanism, the field altering so quickly?’ asked the Commander.

  ‘Leave it to the engineers. Tell me what’s on your mind so we can get out of here.’ She meant to sting him into action but he actually looked relieved.

  ‘Commander La Mar, you are the best suited to succeed me as Base Commander. However, at this time, I can not make it a matter of record. To do so would place you at risk. In fact, to maintain more than advisory contact would probably result in the same circumstance.’ He fell silent.