Jumpship Hope

Home > Other > Jumpship Hope > Page 4
Jumpship Hope Page 4

by Adria Laycraft


  “Bastard!” Janlin punched the wall, making Tyrell squeak. Janlin knew Gordon was on his way to tell Ursula . . . would that jeopardize his place in the mission? No, something still wasn’t right about all this.

  Tyrell, smart kid that he was, quietly dismissed himself. Janlin let all her anger fill her as she waited. There was no way Stepper was getting out of explaining some things to her.

  Now, to her satisfaction, Stepper did look nervous. He pulled her into the now empty briefing room. Her skin burned at his touch. She shook him off and crossed her arms.

  Stepper rubbed a hand over his forehead. He really did look older, and it took him a long time to speak. She held her ground, fighting her impatience, and studied him. No uniform, but he still looked fantastic, even if his favourite button-up shirt was fraying at the edges. It did still sit open at the collar enough to make her catch her breath.

  “This is not SpaceOp’s deal,” he finally said.

  She let out a low whistle. “How is that even possible?”

  “We’ve had a lot of help, but most of the crew of the Renegade were unaware my sister didn’t back this. When I brought it to SpaceOp officially, they said it would never work, it was too risky. And Diona simply scoffed.”

  “Yeah, and look what happened.”

  Stepper scowled. “Diona has put all her eggs in the Mars basket. She didn’t think something like this was necessary because that’s the plan . . . but her plan doesn’t include the Orbitals because we actually endanger them, and she’ll never risk that. She also doesn’t plan on doing anything to try and repair the Earth but ignore it in hopes it will sort itself out. But I’m here trying to save us, Janlin. And I made it work!” Excitement replaced his stress for a moment, taking the years off to reveal the face she had once loved so much. “We built in secret. She can have Mars . . . we’ll find our own damned planet to colonize, thank you very much. Live free or die trying, I say.” Then he seemed to remember she stood there. “Wanna tell me about going dirtside without permission? You say I take too many risks . . .”

  “I had to try something!”

  “And so did I,” he countered. “Rudigar supported me in this. And we couldn’t have done it without his genius.”

  “Why wouldn’t you let him tell me?”

  Stepper rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t me. Why do you always blame me? He didn’t want you involved, said there were too many risks in such a new technology. Said you would demand to go.”

  “Well, he was right, wasn’t he? How long have they been gone? Why haven’t you done something sooner?”

  He reached out. “Listen, Janni . . .”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, stepping away. “I don’t care what he said, you should’ve told me. And you should never have let him go on the first run.”

  “Someone had to,” he said, and again his face sagged.

  She wanted to throttle him for his thoughtlessness, but that was nothing new. She focused her anger in a less personal direction. “Why did you make Tyrell think SpaceOp was threatening his family?”

  At least Stepper had the decency to blush at this, but his explanation was all the usual single-mindedness. “Do you really think they’d come on board otherwise? They’d never trust something this big and groundbreaking if it didn’t have the big money of SpaceOp behind it.”

  Janlin groaned. “Oh, Stepper. Did you ever stop to think there’s a good reason for that? This is the wrong way to go about it.”

  Stepper shrugged. “Again, I had to try something. Things are going from bad to worse, and my sister has left us out in the cold.”

  “Us? What happened to the loyal family employee? Isn’t SpaceOp the corporate teat that you loved more than me?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Janlin,” Stepper said, his voice full of scorn. Janlin sucked in her breath.

  “No, I was only stupid enough to love you once,” she said as she headed for the door. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Janni, I didn’t mean—”

  “Stuff it,” she said, cutting him off. “Oh, and by the way, Gordon is bound to tell Ursula about the mission. Why the hell isn’t she on the docket anyway?”

  “If anyone can keep this place alive, it’s Ursula. I can’t pull her.”

  Janlin turned and stepped close until she was in Stepper’s face. “You’d better not even think of splitting them up.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Stepper’s face bunched, anger making it ugly.

  “No, I’m telling you something important. I’m going to talk Gordon out of this.”

  “What? You can’t—”

  “Stepper! You can’t possibly think to send only one of them on a mission that dangerous!” His eyes rounded a bit, but he didn’t argue. “Just leave them be, okay? It’s not like they’re going to run off ratting on you to SpaceOp.”

  For once, Stepper seemed at a loss for words. He blinked a few times, then nodded. Janlin knew that was as good as it would get, and left him before she gave in to the urge to strangle him.

  She made her way to Gordon and Ursula’s, buzzing the door when she arrived. They called her in. Ursula looked shocked and pale, but she still smiled and hugged Janlin. “I’m so sorry about what happened,” she said. “See, now we will be okay, and no one will need to go dirtside.”

  Janlin didn’t share her optimism. “Except the Renegade didn’t come back. I don’t think Gordon should go.”

  Ursula spoke over Gordon’s sputtering. “This is a great opportunity, Janlin. I can’t hold him back from that.”

  Janlin looked from Ursula to Gordon, and back again. “What if we don’t return?”

  “What if he stays and I don’t find a way to beat this bacterium?” she countered. “No, this is our hope for a better future, whether it is in this system or another. And Rudigar and the others must need help. No one can decipher communications equipment like my Gordon can. Das beste is gut genug—the best is good enough.”

  Janlin had to give her that. Gordon had a way with electronics that was downright spooky some days. “Are you aware of the fact you’re not supposed to know about this?”

  “Oh, bollocks on that,” Gordon said, his voice booming in the small space. “I won’t deceive my wife, and Stepper knows it. Piss on SpaceOp and their rules.”

  Janlin debated the wisdom of sharing her new knowledge with them. Didn’t seem like it would change anything, so she let it go. “Just be sure to keep it to yourself,” she told Ursula. “From everyone, even SpaceOp officials.”

  They both frowned at her, and she scrambled for a way to change the subject. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, and her fingers found a little kernel of hope.

  “A rose hip!” The look on Ursula’s face made the whole day worth it. “I will plant the seeds in quarantine from the others.”

  “I’m sorry the bush I dug up didn’t make it.”

  “Bugger the plants. If this Jumpship works out, we’re quids in,” Gordon said.

  Janlin shook her head. “How does he manage to keep those horrible sayings alive after all these years?” she said in a not-so-quiet undertone to Ursula. Gordon snorted, but at least she’d managed to get Ursula to smile a little.

  “Sheer stubbornness,” Ursula said. “I thought you’d be quite aware of that trait by now.”

  Sure, she knew how pig-headed Gordon could be. Sometimes she thought he spoke like that just to be different, though Ursula loved her German phrases, and they’d caught Janlin with her own Canadian sayings and pronunciations too. The fact that they all spoke a working version of English didn’t erase their heritage, though . . . and really it shouldn’t.

  Janlin left, allowing her friends the privacy they deserved to prepare for their separation. For her, all that was necessary was to pack her kit and go for her briefing with Stepper. She wrinkled her nose.

  In her pod, she sorted through basic issue nano-nylon shirts and pants, trying to focus on the moment at hand. Each crew member was allowed a small person
al kit of five kilos. Everything else would be waiting for them.

  Janlin rummaged for her favourite undies and heard something clink at the bottom of the drawer. Pushing aside the soft socks that made her boots almost comfortable, she found a small silver disk.

  “Well, well. I forgot about this.” So thin she had to get a nail under it for leverage, she lifted it to the light. Barely two centimetres across, and less than a millimetre thick, a quick spin around the circumference with her opposite hand’s finger brought the device to life.

  The first holo showed her father, Rudigar Kavanagh. Janlin’s breath caught. She activated the file, letting it play on the nano-speaker within the device instead of through her earcell.

  “Happy Valentine’s to my little girl.” The hologram of his handsome, clean-shaven face, square jaw, and calm gaze melted into a bouquet of roses that twirled and sparkled, each perfect bloom lit with dewdrops.

  She sniffed and dialled up the next file. Gordon and Ursula smiled at each other. This one contained the two performing a karaoke duet of an old love song called “Bridge Over Troubled Waters.” Janlin shook her head at the memories, a fond denial of how much they meant. If she wallowed too much, she’d end up a bawling mess.

  She spun the dial again, and there stood Stepper in full SpaceOp regalia, ready to receive his promotion to captain.

  Janlin flipped the nano-recorder into her hand and squeezed, shutting it down. She stared at it for a long time before clipping it onto her neck chain. She’d delete Stepper’s file later.

  Chapter Seven

  AS JANLIN APPROACHED Stepper’s office, Gordon emerged.

  “How did it go?”

  Gordon shrugged. “Same old,” he said. He leaned in. “Don’t let him rattle you, Janlin.”

  Janlin gave a dry laugh. “Not a chance.” Gordon punched her lightly on the shoulder and walked off, leaving Janlin no choice but to enter the captain’s office.

  Stepper sat at a functional workstation piled with report datasheets. He rose when she entered.

  “Janlin.”

  “Captain.”

  Stepper sighed at her formality. “I’m so sorry about Rudigar,” he said.

  “Screw you.”

  Stepper gave a nod of acknowledgement. “I’m just glad you’re willing to do this.”

  She clenched her fists—did he think she’d refuse? “Why have you waited so long? Anything could’ve gone wrong, they could be—”

  He held up a hand. “They knew the risks, and it’s taken some time to finish the second ship. Remember, we’re doing this all on our own.” Stepper leaned forward and smacked his fist into his palm. “Something happened out there, and it’s finally time to go find out what. We have to go get our ship and our people back.”

  They regarded each other. Janlin wondered which he worried about more—his precious ship, or the crew he sent off without care for their well-being. “If we can get back,” she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “I still don’t think it’s a technical problem. Every test and simulation came out perfect. That’s why we’re arming the Hope with new shuttles and a fighter pilot or two.” He indicated her file sitting before him.

  “What, you expect some big bad aliens are holding our people hostage?”

  “We really can’t know, and so we’ll go in as armed as possible. That way if we have a fight on our hands, we’ll be prepared. Between you and Gordon, we’ll have the best pilots on station.”

  Janlin rolled her eyes. The compliment sounded so empty, and of all of the scenarios she’d run in her head, meeting some kind of alien antagonist seemed so . . . well, Hollywood. She’d completely discounted it. That said, she wasn’t going to argue with any reason that would get her onboard. Her theories saw the Renegade floating adrift with some unknown malfunction, or caught by a comet unawares, or . . . the accident scenes in her imagination were endless.

  “But you’re sure we can return,” she asked.

  “The technology is sound. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

  Right. “Trust is an ongoing issue between us,” she reminded him. He dropped his gaze, shuffled his docs, and changed the subject.

  They carried on with details, all business from there. Janlin did sit when asked, but once they were done, she stood again, ready to leave. It was her way of letting him know that he had her full cooperation as pilot, but nothing more. She certainly looked forward to testing out the sleek new Seraph ships.

  “Can I get an upload of the Seraph’s specs?” she asked.

  “Sure. I’ll have to send it to your pod’s system.”

  Despite knowing the reaction it was bound to cause, she pulled out her neck chain from under her shirt and dangled the nano-recorder in front of him. “I’d rather have them with me.”

  “You kept it,” he said in a surprised and wistful voice.

  Janlin shrugged. “It’s useful,” she said, handing it to him. Stepper stared at her until she looked away. He sighed, swiping it over his console and selecting the file for exchange without further comment.

  She had almost cleared the doorframe when he spoke in a much different voice than that of captain to pilot. He said just one word, an old nickname that sent fire through her.

  “Jannilove.”

  She stepped into the hall and let the door whoosh closed. Some things never changed, and Stepper was one of those things. He didn’t know how to let go five years ago, why should now be any different?

  She stumbled to a full stop a few paces away and leaned on the wall, arms wrapped around herself. If she was honest, she hadn’t let go either.

  Janlin took a deep breath and carried on. What’s done is done, she told herself, and all she could do was keep moving forward.

  “WE SHOULD ALL have a call sign, like in Earth’s Air Force,” Gordon said.

  They stood in a huge room once used for SpaceOp parties and tours. Now taken over for use as a simulator setup, it was one of the largest open areas on the station.

  Despite the fact that the corporation owned everything out in space, SpaceOp—as a good way to maintain discipline and create a solid chain of command—had adopted many military traditions. Gordon applauded this idea, being an old Royal Air Force communications officer.

  Janlin sometimes regretted that she’d never had the kind of formal training the military offered. Instead, she’d learned most of her technique from her father, a talented pilot instructor in his own right. Both her father’s connections and her aptitude as a pilot got her into SpaceOp only a few years after her father joined up. She had hoped for a future that didn’t include people killing each other.

  Janlin grinned up at Gordon. “Call sign? Thanks, but no. I’ve had enough with bad nicknames. Besides, I’m not so good at flying this thing. It’s pretty dammed powerful.”

  “I don’t know . . . that last sim was pretty smooth.”

  Janlin blinked at him in surprise. “I destroyed the flyer on landing and ended up in a simulated med-bay.”

  Gordon grimaced. “Right, but anyone else that’s tried it can’t even get out of the Jumpship without crashing full on into something, including me. You’ll get this sussed out.”

  Janlin peered over at the console to check on Tyrell’s progress. The talented young helmsman eased the virtual ship through the debris of a computerized asteroid belt encountered directly out of Jump. He somehow dodged every obstacle and sent the Jumpship sailing into the inner solar system.

  “Wow,” Janlin said.

  Gordon grinned. “He’s good.” He turned to face Janlin again. “You’re good too, Janlin. You deserve a call sign.” His encouraging smile turned into more of a smirk. “How about ‘Bouncer’? That’s about what your flyer did on that last run.”

  Janlin gave Gordon a smack on the arm. His laughter rang around the training room, making heads turn.

  “I like it.”

  They both turned, Gordon snapping to attention out of habit from his old military days. J
anlin did her best to copy him.

  “At ease,” Stepper said, waving them down and rolling his eyes. “I don’t expect this on mission, you two.” Janlin recognized something in the brightness of his eyes. He had news.

  “Sorry, Captain. Old habits die hard.”

  “And it looks like you’ve been training up the civilians,” Stepper said, nodding at Janlin. Then he smirked. “Bouncer.”

  Gordon roared with laughter, but Janlin didn’t want Stepper to think he could be part of this circle again. She remained at attention, staring at the opposite wall. She would’ve left, if it weren’t for the desire to know what he’d come to tell them.

  Gordon gave her such a wallop on the back she couldn’t hold her stance. She growled at him. “I’ll get you back for this, Spin.” She used Gordon’s old call sign like an insult. She continued to ignore Stepper.

  Gordon still laughed. “I’m sure you will, Bouncer. I’m sure you will.”

  The sims in progress had ended, and the crowd in the hall swelled as people emerged from different training booths. Stepper moved to the display at the head of the room. When he turned back, Janlin sucked in a breath at the hurt on his face. He caught her looking, and quickly stiffened up, his expression returning to business.

  Janlin replaced any sense of chagrin with one of haughtiness. He deserved every nasty feeling she could give him.

  “All right, folks, here’s the deal. No more sims; tomorrow we leave for the launch site. You will fly the real thing within a couple days.”

  They responded with cheers, but Janlin worried for Gordon. He would have to leave Ursula behind. The room quieted. There was more.

  “We Jump in a week, so get in what time you need, and make sure you’re ready to do your job.”

  Chapter Eight

  “LEBEN SIE WOHL, Liebchen,” Ursula whispered to Gordon. Janlin didn’t know the translation, but it could only be a farewell, one full of love and worry and hope. Janlin stepped away, embarrassed to be sharing in that moment of intimacy. She’d already said her goodbyes, impatient to be finally on the move.

 

‹ Prev