Jumpship Hope

by Adria Laycraft

  Everyone in the village cast her sullen looks, or just turned aside when she approached. The Huantag told Inaba and the rest of the leadership circle that they would review the situation in thirty days’ time, but not before. Janlin and Gordon became outcasts, rightfully blamed for their loss of freedom.

  Janlin went about her routines the best she could, avoiding everyone as much as possible, but most especially Stepper. When she couldn’t avoid him, Stepper just looked through her as if she didn’t even exist. She told herself it was for the best.

  She worked hard to comfort Gordon, not caring what anyone else thought of the time they spent together, but Gordon remained grim to the point of being unbearable to be with.

  Teardrop, of all people, became her pillar of strength through it all. The medic found Janlin at her father’s gravesite one evening, red-eyed and miserable. Being a sweet young woman with more maturity than most, she didn’t accuse or pry, just shared a basket of food and commented here and there on inane things like the weather.

  Routine took over, as it will, and raw as she felt, Janlin was grateful for something to fall back on. People began speaking to her again, though Gordon did not fare as well as she did on that front. She continued to monitor the comm-unit, but not with the same vigilance or hope.

  As Janlin and Teardrop walked from the mess hall one morning, clay mugs of flowerbud tea in hand and hair still damp from bathing, a Renegade crewmate waved them down.

  “Iphie, you’ve got a new patient,” he said. “Some cold or flu—not that you can do much for that, eh?” He grinned and went on his way, work gloves in one hand and a long-handled hoe in the other.

  “Iffie?” Janlin teased, but Teardrop didn’t rise to the bait.

  “Iphimedeia,” she said absently. “My mother was a Latin freak. You can see why I like the nickname.” She closed her eyes, her face pale.

  “You okay?” Janlin asked.

  “I’ve been worried about this.” Teardrop turned a watery blue gaze on Janlin. “I don’t have anything left to fight infection. If bronchitis or pneumonia starts spreading, many could die very quickly.” She took off in the direction of the med-hut.

  “Whoa!” Janlin had to step double-time to catch up. “Maybe it’s just one person with a cold, Teardrop. Aren’t you blowing this a bit out of proportion?”

  “Maybe. I can only hope.” Teardrop lowered her voice, and Janlin had to strain to catch the words. “We were supposed to come into new environments with every possible precaution. The Birdfolk’s version of a common cold could kill us all in a matter of days—and so could their version of a ‘cure’. I’m amazed we haven’t had a problem sooner.”

  “Why didn’t we catch anything from the Imag, then?” she said, even as she remembered the holo of Victor on his deathbed.

  “A ship environment is usually a lot cleaner place than a planet, at least in our experience.”

  “True.”

  Teardrop stopped, Janlin taking two more steps before she even realized. The woman’s eyes rounded in dismay. “At its height, bio-terrorism found ways to infect people with nano-germs that could be programmed to wait before emerging to do their damage.”

  Janlin’s heart quickened. When Anaya found Victor, he’d been in a separate part of the ship. He said something about tests they did on him.

  “Do the Imag have that kind of technology, Teardrop?”

  The young med-tech shrugged even as she resumed her half run, half walk. “I have no idea, really. That would be a question for the science types, I guess.”

  They approached the now familiar med-hut.

  “Wait outside,” Teardrop ordered.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just in case.” Teardrop slipped inside the dim coolness, and Janlin stepped into the shaded doorframe. Tyrell sat chatting with an older red-headed lady. She bore dark circles under her eyes and a pale, feverish look.

  “Sandy, right?” Teardrop said cheerfully, giving Tyrell’s shoulder a squeeze before sitting beside them.

  “Sandy Beckett,” the woman confirmed. “Ron got tired of listening to me complain and thought you might be able to help.”

  “Of course. Let’s have a look at you.” Teardrop inspected her ears, eyes, throat, and glands on her neck. She asked basic questions about eating, sleeping, soreness, and fever. Janlin admired her calm bedside manners, considering her shaky panic outside.

  “Ron . . . I can’t remember his last name,” Teardrop said.

  “Ron Westmoore. We’re bunking together.”

  Tyrell nudged Teardrop, and she absently swatted him away.

  “I’m afraid you will need to remain here,” she said, all business. “I’ll be restricting all visitors, too.” Tyrell’s flirty smile faltered. Sandy groaned.

  “She’s contagious, then?” Janlin asked from the doorway.

  Teardrop shook her head. “I can’t say for sure, but chances are good. I’d rather err on the side of caution.” She patted Sandy’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can make up to sooth your throat.”

  Before she did anything, Teardrop pushed Janlin out the door. “Go find Ron, and anyone else they’ve been hanging about with . . . but especially Ron. Have them come up here right away.”

  Tyrell came up behind her. “What can I do?”

  “Sit down,” Teardrop said, pushing him back into the hut and going to a shelf to start pulling out jars and containers. “Sorry, Tyrell, but you’re now part of my little quarantine. Janlin, see if we can use a different hut for first-aid, and look for volunteers to run it.”

  “Are you sure I should go?”

  “You didn’t come in, and you haven’t been here long.” Teardrop returned to Sandy’s side with a spoon and a bottle, but first she reached out and squeezed Sandy’s hand. “It’s probably just a cold or some common thing,” she said, “but it’s my job to take every precaution we can to keep others from getting sick.”

  Janlin nodded at the three stark faces and left at a run. Did her throat hurt? Psychosomatic, she told herself. Don’t even think about it.

  For the first time since landing she thought of Yipho’s injection, and his strange satisfaction in administering it. At the time Janlin saw it as some sadistic pleasure, but now she wondered if he’d used Victor’s blood to create an anti-viral. Isn’t that how it was done, centrifuging the blood to use a small dose to inoculate? Maybe they could do the same sort of thing once Sandy got better, although Janlin admitted she didn’t even know if you could do something like that with a bacterial infection like strep. And if it was bacterial, most should recover just fine. The trouble was complications could occur, and then only a decent antibiotic would help them.

  Janlin thought of the med stores on the Hope. If Anaya . . . . But there was no sense riding on “if” just now.

  The thought that hit her then made her stumble to a halt. What if the injection Yipho gave her was the bug?

  “Hey, what’s the hurry?” Gordon stared at her over an armload of what appeared to be tree roots. “Did you hear something?” he demanded.

  “No. Listen, do you know Ron—uh—Westmont, Westmoore, something like that?”

  “Sure. Saw him this morning. He said his mate Sandy wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Yeah, Teardrop’s worried about it spreading around. Now I’m worried it’s too late for her quarantine to work.”

  Gordon’s eyebrows shot up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It isn’t,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ve got to find Ron. If you see him, send him to the med-hut.”

  Next thing she knew, Gordon was keeping pace, his duties abandoned. “Janlin, I ate breakfast beside that guy. How serious is this?”

  Janlin shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. Did you eat from the same spoon? Drink from his drink? Then you might be fine, as far as I know. This could get dangerous, though. Teardrop’s really worried.”

  Gordon grabbed her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “We must get off this planet.”


  For the second time that morning Janlin found herself calming someone else when her own panic simmered just under the surface, ready to boil over.

  “We’ve tried.” She put her hands up, palms out, to still his immediate reaction. “I’ll also try calling again. If the comm is dead or broken, or for some reason Anaya can’t get through to us, then we have to drop those shields. We’re screwed until we either get her in, or she figures something else out.” She kept her voice steady and firm. “We’ll just have to survive this. Teardrop will do everything she can, and she has a lot of faith in the Birdfolk coming up with things to help.”

  “No. I’m done waiting around for Anaya or the Birdfolk or anyone. I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands.”

  Janlin rolled her eyes at him. “We’ve tried that too, remember? Though it would be nice if we could get our hands on the med stores of either Jumpship,” she said.

  “It would be nice if we could find a Jumpship,” he said.

  “But we can’t return home if we’re carrying some awful virus, Gordon,” Janlin said. Gordon stared at her in new horror. “That’s why we’re going to need to figure out a cure, and that means trusting in Huantag ingenuity . . . or . . .” Was Yipho’s injection a cure?

  “Or what?”

  Janlin shook her head. She hadn’t told him about the injection she’d received on the Gitane ship. “One thing at a time,” she said. “I’ve got to find Ron.”

  Just as she found Ron and instructed him to find his hut mates and report directly to Teardrop, Janlin saw Stepper striding towards her. He had Inaba, Linder, Steve, and Corvin with him.

  “Janlin, we require some assistance—”

  “Right, you’ve got perfect timing. We need to discuss the quarantine and which hut to assign to first-aid while the med-hut is off limits.”

  Stepper’s face reddened even as his eyes widened at her speech, but the others seemed to take it in stride. Inaba moved forward.

  “Please explain your use of the word ‘quarantine’, Ms. Kavanagh,” he said.

  “Well, at this point we’re not sure of anything, but Teardrop says it could be a common flu virus or a strep infection, but either could be dangerous considering our lack of antibiotics and other meds.”

  Inaba nodded. “The medic has the right idea, then. We should limit contact and wash carefully. It might also be a good idea to check the mess hall crew for sore throats.”

  Stepper passed a shaky hand over his forehead. Did he seem pale? Janlin narrowed her eyes and he straightened.

  “It’s important we act quickly on this, and keep people calm, but Teardrop also hoped the Huantag could help.”

  “The who?” Stepper asked.

  Damn! “The birdmen, bird-folk, whatever you call them,” Janlin said. Her heart tumbled along a little faster. Stepper frowned at her, but the others were already discussing the best way to explain a viral infection to the aliens.

  “I’ve got to get back,” Janlin said, hoping her flounder would be lost in the moment. She turned and walked away, back stiff, and when she couldn’t stand it anymore, she glanced back. Stepper stared after her. She hurried around a bend, putting a wall between them, and cursed her slip. Stepper knew her too well, and would not forget that she’d called the aliens by a strange name he’d never heard before.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  AS JANLIN CLIMBED up the trail to the med-hut again, she saw Gordon sitting against the wall by the entrance, head on his knees.

  “What’s going on?” Janlin asked when he looked up at the sound of her approach.

  He looked stricken. “For the moment, I’m the guard,” he said. He turned red-rimmed eyes up to look at her with desperation. “Two more sore throats have been brought in, and all of those from her hut are sick too.”

  Janlin did the math. “What about Tyrell?”

  “What about him?”

  Janlin grimaced. “He was in the med-hut when Sandy was brought in and became part of the quarantine.”

  Gordon groaned, wiping a hand over his face. “I’m scared to even stick my head in there.” He climbed to his feet. “Janlin, I want to go home. Tell me again how we’re gonna do that?”

  Janlin took a breath, let it go. “She’ll do it, Gordon. She will, and she will return for us. I have to have faith in that. I can’t imagine it’s an easy task stealing a huge space ship out from under a bunch of Imag, and the warship could be anywhere. The trip here seemed to take weeks, though I had no way to communicate time with Anaya.”

  Gordon hung his head. “I’m glad you believe in Anaya still, because I trust your judgment.”

  “It’s all we’ve got.”

  “But I still believe everyone else deserves to have the same hope. Why are you holding out with this?”

  Because of Stepper, Janlin thought. Because of everyone, and the way they’ll look at me when I try to explain it, and the way everyone loves the Huantag—or at least did. Maybe things would be different now, although she got the sense no one would understand until they met Anaya. Not even Gordon did, really.

  “Holding out on what?” Stepper came around the corner of the med-hut wearing a grim look of determination.

  Janlin swore, a rush of dismay filling her.

  “Hey, Stepper. Heard you leader types made a sort of government today,” Gordon said. Stepper never took his eyes off Janlin, but Janlin loved Gordon for trying to distract him.

  “We did. Now if you two wouldn’t mind filling me in on what you were discussing . . .”

  Heavy silence thickened the space between them, the day now so hot the air shimmered.

  Janlin knew Stepper would never forgive her for leaving him in the dark on this. She should’ve just left the settlement right off and gone in search of the Huantag’s shielding controls on her own.

  “I didn’t come here with the others,” Janlin said. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I came with a different group of aliens.”

  Stepper blinked. “Different how?”

  Janlin relaxed just a little. At least he was giving her a chance to explain.

  “They’re an opposing family group or race or something of the Imag. They look a lot like the Imag, but they are called Gitane.”

  Stepper wrinkled his nose. “How can you possibly know something like that?”

  “The captain of the ship I came here on, she had learned our language. She’d made friends with a Renegade crewmember before. They were trying to get help from us without inciting a war with the Imag, so she recruited me to gather the crew here while she steals the Hope from the Imag. All I have to do is take down the planet’s shields and she’ll come get us.” Then she showed Stepper the comm-unit. “I’ve been waiting for word.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Stepper said, and Janlin bit down on her disappointment. Why had she expected anything different?

  “It’s our only chance to get home,” Gordon said. “Whatever—”

  “Can’t you see? It’s a set-up.” Stepper grabbed the comm-unit, inspecting it with a scowl. “We take down the shields for the Imag and they can walk right in and take the planet. There is no ‘Gitane’.” He snorted in derision. “I can’t believe you fell for this.”

  “Anaya’s not like that,” Janlin said, forcing the words out. “She’s risking her own crew—”

  “How so?” Stepper demanded, overriding her. “It sounds like you face all the danger. You have to take out the Birdfolk’s only source of protection, which is of course against their will. You’re the one risking your neck, and ours, and the generous owners of this planet! And what about the Renegade crewmate, what happened to him?”

  Janlin shook her head, denying her own doubts she’d tried so hard to ignore. “He got sick . . .”

  Stepper’s eyes widened.

  “No, it’s not like that. If you could meet her, talk to her . . .” She glanced at Gordon, but how could he back her on this? “She just wants a chance for a new start, a new home planet. You built Jumpships becaus
e we couldn’t seem to fix the mistakes we’ve made on Earth. The Gitane are just like us.”

  Stepper stared at the comm-unit in his hand. “We wanted to find new worlds . . .” He seemed dazed.

  “And Anaya’s people do too. There’s no way she’s on the side of the Imag. She’s coming to rescue us!”

  Stepper stuck his face right in hers. “What if I don’t want rescued? We have what we were searching for right here.”

  Janlin snatched the comm-unit from him as Gordon pushed in between them. “How can you say that?” Gordon’s quiet tone made Janlin shiver.

  “They healed me beyond my wildest hopes,” Stepper said, exposing his spider web of scars and flexing his fingers. “They have a beautiful world, and they’re willing to share it with us, if you two would quit causing problems. They were even willing to help us reverse the nano-tech birth control. We could live free of SpaceOp and the famine and—”

  He never saw the fist coming. Blood spurted instantly from Stepper’s nose as Gordon pulled back for another go.

  “Wait! Dammit you two—!” Janlin dove between them, hanging off Gordon’s muscular arm. He shook her off, breathing hard, his grey eyes like sharp steel. Janlin spun on Stepper.

  “You thoughtless asshole!” she said. “It’s never about anyone but you, isn’t it? It doesn’t surprise me you’d ignore the plight of your own race, but how could you say that to Gordon?”

  Stepper, his hands holding his nose as blood flowed between his fingers, groaned. “Try to be reasonable. There’s no possible way back.”

  Janlin wanted to hit him herself. “My friend is out there making it possible,” she said, her voice full of warning. “And Gordon and I will not give up. I will do whatever it takes to fulfil my part of our plan so that her efforts aren’t wasted.”

  Stepper’s arm snaked out and snatched the comm-unit from her. Her wordless cry of dismay was drowned out by the crackle of breaking parts as Stepper smashed it against the wall of the med-hut.