Spacer's Creed

by Michelle Levigne

  As a result of spending all his time in the hold, Bain didn't hear what Dr. Shaker and Lin said about the blob. He didn't hear their conversations with the Ranger scientists. He knew he could have asked Ganfer to open a link with the bridge so he could listen in, or at least ask questions. Bain didn't know if Ganfer would do it. He had the feeling it wouldn't exactly be polite. He had to wait to find out until they had landed.

  “What do you really think that thing is?” he asked Lin, when she came down into the hold to wait until all the children were off-loaded.

  “Oh, it has to be a plague bomb.” Lin didn't look at him as she spoke. She watched the children laughing and shouting and running to meet their parents or aunts and uncles or grandparents running up the cargo ramp to retrieve them.

  “Really?”

  “Bain, you shouldn't doubt your instincts so much.” She looked at him and winked. “Dr. Shaker and Gil are both very impressed with your common sense.”

  “Really?” Bain knew he sounded like a broken recording, saying the same word, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

  “They're more impressed that you got everyone away from that thing. What if someone had decided to throw rocks at it or cut it apart, or even burn it?” Lin shuddered and grinned at him. “It could have had a delayed fuse, or whatever was wrong with it could have fixed itself. Explosion of plague spores. You were the only one there who'd been vaccinated. Anyone sitting that close to a plague bomb when it exploded would have been infected and sick in moments. Maybe dead by now.”

  “Oh.” He thought about that a moment and turned back to watch the children meeting with their parents.

  A tired-looking, tall, black-haired man hurried up the ramp into the hold. He shouted and grinned and swooped down on a little girl who couldn't have been taller than his knee. The girl shrieked and laughed and flung her arms around his neck. Bain remembered how Lin had hugged him, just for a moment. Had she been worried, that much, about him? It had felt good, once he got over the shock.

  “What are they going to do about it?” he asked.

  “Oh, Gil sent a shipload of scientists out even before we launched to come back. They're probably already studying it.” Lin reached up and tousled his hair. “Come on, apprentice. You and I have been invited to dinner with Gil and the new commander.”

  “New commander?” Bain slid off the bench and hurried to follow Lin up the access tube to the bridge.

  “Dogray has been upgraded in its emergency standing. Gil and his people are the advance units, warning people and getting them moving for evacuation. Commander Chasburn is here to set up the next defensive line.”

  “Oh.” Bain knew what that meant: Dogray was in just as much danger as Lenga.

  * * * *

  Bain enjoyed his dinner with Captain Gilmore, Commander Chasburn and Lin. He sat next to Gil, who sat at Commander Chasburn's right hand. Lin sat at the commander's left. Half of Gil's officers and half of Commander Chasburn's officers sat at the long table that ran the length of the main hall. Bain and Lin were both given cups of hot chocolate while everyone else had coffee, and the steward who served their end of the table put an insulated pitcher of chocolate in front of Bain, so he could drink as much as he wanted.

  Best of all, both Gil and Commander Chasburn wanted to know all about Bain's journey with Alyss and finding the children and sabotaging the pirates. All the officers who could hear his story laughed when Bain told them how Marco and Mattias had booby-trapped the tents to fall in the morning.

  “No wonder they were such easy targets,” Gil said, when the laughter died down. “We sent two teams when Lin called in and told us what you had found. Nobody could figure out why the pirates didn't launch and vanish into the wilderness when they saw us coming.”

  “Maybe we should recruit a whole squadron of young boys to sneak in and pull dirty tricks on pirates,” Commander Chasburn said.

  Bain liked that idea, even though he knew it would never happen. There was too much danger. The Rangers were on Dogray to protect people, not send boys like Marco and Mattias into danger.

  He liked Commander Chasburn, even though the man hadn't said all that much to Bain during the meal. He was a big man, a whole head taller than Gil, who was a whole head taller than Lin. His hair was a silvery-white that almost seemed to glow. That contrasted nicely with his deep blue eyes and his dark, dusky skin. He had a rumbling laugh that reminded Bain of his father, and he kept his voice soft when he spoke.

  “I don't know how we would keep discipline up,” Gil said.

  “If they were all Spacer-trained, we wouldn't have any trouble,” Commander Chasburn returned. “You've done wonders with your apprentice, Captain Fieran.”

  “Thank you, sir, but Bain was already smart and quick and a relatively good boy when I found him.” Lin winked at Bain. His face began to feel like fire. “I'm just filling in the gaps in his education and giving him the training he wants and needs. Boys in orphanages don't get that many opportunities. During this war, I'm afraid a great many capable children are going to fall through the cracks. The Commonwealth will suffer for that in the future.”

  “Orphanage?” The commander looked back and forth between Lin and Bain. “I thought you were relatives.”

  “All Spacers are kin,” Bain hurried to say. He wondered if he had said something wrong, when Lin's face grew very quiet. She nodded and gave him a tiny, thin smile before looking away.

  “How exactly did you two make connections?”

  “I landed on Lenga looking for distant kin who had settled there. With this war on, I thought they might like to return to shipboard life rather than take their chances dirtside.” Lin stopped to cough and clear her throat. She poured herself a cup of chocolate from her own pitcher as she continued talking. “Governor Cowrun is an old friend, and he talked me into evacuating a shipload of children. I met Bain while I was making arrangements and learned that he was an orphan who had Spacer blood. Spacers always look ahead, Commander, so I asked that he be put into the first group I evacuated, just in case I needed to call on him for help.”

  “Did you?” Gil asked. He smiled crookedly. For some reason, that made Bain think the captain suspected Lin wasn't telling the whole story.

  “Of course. Why waste talent?” Lin glanced over and winked at Bain. “It worked out to your benefit today, you know.”

  “How?” Commander Chasburn sounded amused.

  “If Bain hadn't been on the bridge and seen the Mashrami ship we ran into, he wouldn't have recognized that plague bomb as being Mashrami-made. Or grown,” she added with a chuckle.

  “What are your arrangements with the boy?”

  “The Child Welfare authorities on Refuge have granted me permission to take Bain on this trip to help with evacuation. When we return to Refuge, we'll have to make new arrangements. I've promised Bain he'll get all the training I can give him in the time allotted us. When I'm done with him, the best captains will want him for crew.”

  “You've already accomplished that, Captain Fieran.” Commander Chasburn turned to look at Bain. “How would you like to start your apprenticeship with the Fleet right now, son?”

  “Sir?” Bain stiffened and thought he couldn't breathe.

  “How would you like to become a cadet and start your service on a working battleship?” The commander smiled a little wider. “You'll get the best schooling, paid for by the Commonwealth Council, and all your service points will count toward rank. When this war is over, you'll go to the Fleet Academy on Vidan itself. You could be the youngest squadron commander ever to serve the Commonwealth, if you keep performing like you did the past few days.”

  “I don't know.” He looked at Lin, trying to get some clue to what to say from her.

  Lin sat with her elbows on the table, holding her cup of chocolate in both hands. She stared into the dark brown, steaming liquid, and her face was as quiet and blank as if she were asleep.

  “You've overwhelmed the boy, Commander,” Gil
said. “I know when I had the chance to go to the academy, I didn't quite believe it for a few days, either.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry.” Commander Chasburn chuckled. “I suppose I did come at you a little too strongly. Take your time to decide, son. It's a big, important decision that'll affect the rest of your life. You're the kind of young man the Commonwealth needs serving her.”

  “How much time does Bain have to decide?” Lin asked. Her voice was almost too quiet for Bain to hear her speak.

  “How soon does Sunsinger have to leave?”

  “We're scheduled to take our first load of refugees out in two days.”

  “That isn't very long to weigh all the pros and cons.” Commander Chasburn shook his head. “I'll give you more time than that, Bain, if you need it. Wherever you are, you just send me the word and I'll send a courier to fetch you.”

  “No, sir. I think I can decide in two days.” Bain felt as if a lead weight had settled into his chest.

  Two days. What if he decided yes? He would have to leave Sunsinger and Ganfer and Lin forever. He might never see them again.

  No. He stopped himself right there. Gil was a friend of Lin and Ganfer. He got to see them sometimes. Bain would see Lin and Ganfer again, if he wanted.

  Serving in the Fleet was what he had always wanted, wasn't it?

  So why did he feel so sick now, when he had the chance?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, Sunsinger headed out for the last trip to bring farmers and explorers in to the spaceport. After that, Lin and Bain and Ganfer had to prepare for the long trip to Refuge with their cargo of passengers.

  It was an easy run, now that they had the pattern down. They landed, Bain and Lin and Emma Dooli walked down the cargo ramp and let the people know what was going on, and they loaded up Sunsinger. They were back at the spaceport by midnight with three farms’ worth of adults and children and all their belongings.

  Bain didn't ask Lin what she thought of Commander Chasburn's offer. Lin didn't say anything about it, either. Bain was afraid to ask. He didn't think Lin would be angry. She had even said she wanted him to be the best Spacer he could be, so captains would ask him to be part of their crew. Bain thought maybe Lin was sad. He hoped she didn't want him to leave. He just didn't know how to say it without sounding stupid.

  Now, with all their shuttling runs completed, Bain and Lin got to work on checking over Sunsinger to prepare her for spaceflight. Atmospheric flying had its own stresses and strains on the ship that had to be checked and repaired before going into space.

  Bain had to make sure everything was clean and in order in the hold again. He worked hard, straining his muscles, bruising his fingers to tighten bolts and replace straps, inspecting frames and restocking cabinets and washing furniture. He checked all the power packs and connections and controls for the stasis chairs all by himself. He remembered how all the orphans on Lenga had worked in teams to prepare the ship for launching. Bain wondered if Shari missed him.

  He worked himself into exhausted, sweaty, achy misery all that long day. No matter how busy he kept himself, he still couldn't stop the heart-in-the-throat hurting feeling that washed over him sometimes. It usually hit when he paused in his work, to stand and twist to get the kinks out of his back and catch his breath. Then Bain would look around the hold, and a wave of sadness would wash over him.

  In the morning, he had to give his answer to Commander Chasburn. Should he say yes? He would never work on Sunsinger again. If he said no, would that be the wrong thing to do? The commander said the Commonwealth and the Fleet needed boys like Bain.

  Even if Lin had been around to talk to, Bain knew he couldn't talk to her about it. He couldn't beg her to make the decision for him. He knew she would refuse. She might even get angry that he couldn't make up his own mind. Not angry as in hating him, but angry as in disappointed in him. Bain wanted Lin to be proud of him, like he wanted his parents to be proud.

  “I'm her apprentice,” he muttered in the silence of the hold. “That's almost as good as being her son. But not as permanent.”

  He wondered again, for the first time in many days, what Chief Malloy had told Lin to keep secret. What could be so bad that she couldn't tell Bain? What could be so bad that if Bain knew, he wouldn't be allowed to be with Lin anymore?

  “Ganfer?”

  “Yes, Bain?” The ship-brain sounded like he was busy with something else. That meant he was teasing, because Ganfer was never too busy to spare time to talk—except when calculating how to get back through an unexplored Knaught Point, with Mashrami waiting to ambush them on the other side, of course.

  “Do you think Lin wants me to stay with her?”

  “Yes. I know she does.”

  “Why didn't she just say no when the commander asked me to be a cadet, then?

  “Because it's your life, and she wants you to be happy, even if it isn't what she wants.”

  “That sounds like what you two were arguing about before,” Bain grumbled.

  “Yes, it does.” Silence for a few moments. “What do you want to do, Bain?”

  “I don't know. I mean, I do know,” he hurried to say, “but I don't know if it's what's really good for me or if it's what I should do.”

  “I wish I could help you, Bain.”

  “Thanks.” Bain squatted down and reached for the power pack for the next stasis chair. Two more to check and he would be done with that job.

  Maybe Lin wasn't allowed to keep him, and that's why she didn't say anything? Bain considered that idea while he worked on the power packs, and he knew it couldn't be true. Lin was a fighter. She said herself, the authorities were bending over backwards, turning somersaults to give Spacer captains anything they wanted and needed to ensure their help and cooperation in the war. If Lin really wanted to keep him with her, wouldn't she fight for him?

  Then he remembered what he had overheard of Lin and Ganfer's midnight conversation. Lin was having as hard a time deciding what was good for him, what was the right thing to do, as he did.

  Adults, Bain decided, didn't have it any easier than kids. That just wasn't fair.

  * * * *

  “What do you want to do tonight?” Lin asked with a half-smile. They had finished a quiet dinner and sat in the galley, just listening to the soft humming and clicking of Sunsinger's controls. In the morning, their passengers would arrive and prepare for the journey to Refuge. By noon, Sunsinger would be in space.

  “Could I practice in the simulator?” Bain almost whispered.

  “You don't have to be afraid to ask, Bain.” Her smile got a little wider. “Actually, I was a little worried something was wrong, that you hadn't asked for that yet. It's an important part of training for Spacers.”

  “Even in the Fleet?”

  “Especially in the Fleet.” Lin's smile dimmed. Her eyes flickered over his face a few times, and then she pushed out of her seat. She even walked like she was tired, shoulders hunched, shuffling a little, fists clenched like she fought the gravity to move. “Leave the dishes for later. Let's get that simulator going.”

  Ganfer had the dome darkened by the time Bain followed Lin up the ladder. The outer metal plates were in place, blocking them from the view of anyone who might be wandering the spaceport that evening. The inner metal plates were down, leaving the glossy, clear arch of the dome visible. Stars gleamed against the surface, projected by Ganfer to recreate the approach to a Knaught Point. Bain paused on the ladder, studying everything.

  “There's no music,” he whispered.

  “You have to remember it for yourself,” Lin said. “Sometimes, you have to carry it with you because people and things and machines won't let it come to you from space.” She shrugged and made her slow way to her couch. “Come on, let's have some fun.”

  Bain had the controls. Lin was only there ‘to watch and make notes and have fun pretending to be a passenger for a change.’ Ganfer projected a g
rid of lurid purple lines across the starfield to help Bain navigate. In a real Knaught Point jump, he wouldn't have such help. The reference points and the position of the ship in space shifted too quickly for a grid to be any good to him.

  Even with that help, Bain crashed the ship twice before he managed to get close to the Knaught Point. He went in too slowly and bounced off the magnetic energy fields. The third try, he went in too quickly, creating energy of his own that interfered with the jump, sending him off in the wrong direction.

  He sat back from the third disaster, staring at the flashes of white and red Ganfer splashed across the dome, simulating an electron storm washing over the ship. Bain's fingers hurt from pounding the control panel and gripping the joystick too hard. His shoulders ached from hunching over the panel, and the tension running through his whole body. Sweat ran into his eyes. Without really noticing, he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  “Well, you got close this time,” Lin said.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “What's to be sorry for?” A snort escaped her. “That's what the ridiculous simulator is for. Ganfer didn't have to make it so hard on you, though.”

  “Hard?” For a fleeting moment, Bain let himself hope that Knaught Points weren't that difficult.

  “Yes, hard. Usually, he would handle engine problems himself, instead of telling you and making you correct them.”

  “Engine problems?”

  “You didn't notice?” She stared at him for a few seconds. It was hard to read her face in the purple and red and white flashing lights. “Ganfer, cut the fireworks, will you?”

  “Would you rather have a long fire, or a quick explosion that destroys the whole ship?” the ship-brain asked, his voice bland and bored.

  “They're giving me a headache!” Lin sighed and rubbed at her eyes, waiting until normal, yellow lighting filled the dome and the simulation images faded away to plain gray plates overhead. “You took care of the engine problems just fine, Bain. Are you telling me you didn't realize what was happening?”