Jumpship Hope

by Adria Laycraft

  There was no reply.

  Gordon gently took the device from her. Janlin laid her head on Stepper’s chest. His heart raced, weak and stuttering and too fast.

  “I can’t find another way,” came Fran’s voice. “I need some ideas for taking this ship out.”

  Janlin stared at the comm-unit. Gordon’s relief was palpable, even over his confusion. “Fran, what the bloody hell are you talking about?” he asked.

  “That you, Gordon? Always with the funny.” She sounded vague, distracted. “Done working for these a-holes. Worse than SpaceOp. So, I want to take out their ship. A little payback. Any ideas?”

  “Tell her to get to Anaya,” Janlin said.

  “Fran, can you get to the Hope? We’ve got a friend on board. Help her get launched and come get us.”

  Fran’s derisive laughter echoed through the room. Janlin ground her teeth.

  “You guys are delusional if you think I’ll leave now. The Imag told me—you’ll all be dead of some virus soon. I’ll probably get it too, so I might as well do some good before I go.”

  Janlin groaned. Every moment pulled at her as precious time slipped away like Huantag sand.

  “You’re right, we are sick,” Gordon said. “Except Janlin. Her friend, who’s on the Hope right now, has a cure.”

  “Janlin, of course,” Fran said, her voice deadly hard now. “She’ll be awfully lonely, then, once I blow up this alien tub of crap.”

  “No, Fran, you’re not listening. If you help her get the ship running, you can bring us some meds. I don’t know how much longer Stepper can hang on!” Gordon held his throat and let his head fall back. Janlin wanted to scream at Fran, but that’d be the worst thing to do, she knew.

  “Fran, please believe me,” Gordon said through clenched teeth. “If you blow that ship up you remove any chance of ever going home.”

  Fran laughed again, a demented sound that made Janlin shiver. “There’s . . . nothing to go . . . home to, especially if I fail.” Little gaps were coming between her phrases, as if she focused carefully or was too busy to keep track of her thoughts. “The Imag have turned this tub into a rudimentary Jumpship and will probably head Earth’s way before too long . . . as soon as they’ve taken this poor planet.” The sound of tools at work continued over her voice. “No, better that I give these bastards some payback and make sure they never leave this system. Are you going to help me or not?”

  Janlin and Gordon stared at each other. Gordon raised the comm-unit again. “Help Anaya fire the Hope first . . .”

  “No wait,” Janlin cried. She held out her hand and Gordon, with a look of uncertainty, slid the unit to her.

  “Fran, you’re right, there’s no time if you’re to succeed.” Gordon stared at her in horror.

  “Never thought I’d hear you say that, Kavanagh.”

  “Well, it’s my fault the Huantag are in danger. I can’t just leave them wide open to invasion.”

  Fran was quiet for a moment. “I’ve wracked my brain for a way to blow this sucker up. You got something?”

  Janlin looked to Gordon, like she always did for this kind of help. “I don’t bloody well think so,” he said, shaking his head. “There has to be another way.”

  Janlin sighed. “Gordon, if you can think of a way to get us the meds we need, convince the Imag to not only leave the Huantag alone but give us our ship back, and protect Earth from their eventual arrival, then I’m all ears, my friend.”

  He hung his head, and Janlin swallowed hard before calling Fran again.

  “Not really coming up with much. Give us a sec.”

  Gordon looked up, his face twisted with grief and anger. “I wish I could fry each and every Imag with their own nerve whips,” he growled.

  “Nerve whips . . . Fran, what sort of fuel do they use?”

  “A pretty common mix, nothing unexpected in there. Mostly hydrogen, like us.”

  “Nerve whip.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “Nerve whip and water? Make a spark in the fuel tank.”

  “Huh. It just might work.” Fran’s voice was thoughtful.

  “But listen, you’ve got to go help Anaya first. Maybe she’ll have a way to take them out that’s safer for you.”

  “No, the only way this will work is if I get right into a tank and set a line—you know that.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Fran said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re coming. I think they’ve noticed I’m missing from my usual post. I’ve only got so much time . . . thank you, Janlin.”

  A final click, and the unit went dead.

  “Fran!”

  Both Gordon and Janlin cried out at the same time, but there was no response.

  “We have to get that ship running for Anaya,” Janlin gasped.

  Gordon took the unit and began calling for the Gitane captain, trying different settings as he had before. Janlin checked Stepper, who looked entirely too much like a cadaver for her liking.

  “Outside,” Gordon gasped.

  “Why?”

  “If she’s successful, we’ll see it.” He hauled himself to his feet as Janlin navigated her injured knee under her. They shuffled out of the shuttle and onto the landing pad, one sick, one crippled.

  It took them some time to get into the open field. Gordon stood, ignoring Janlin’s urges to sit and rest. He tried the comm-unit a few more times, with no results. They watched the sky.

  All too soon thunder rumbled through the air, and they craned their necks to see a fireball pushing rolling clouds of blackness across the sky.

  Gordon fell to his knees. “Ursula.” The comm-unit slid from his fingers into the dirt.

  Janlin watched the destruction as if from a great distance. The threat of the Imag was gone, but the settlement and the Huantag were dying with no hope of a cure, and Anaya and the Hope were destroyed.

  There was no going home.

  Every time there seemed no hope to be had, she’d found a way to go on. Every time she dared hope, it was ripped away.

  Now she was done.

  She limped away from Gordon. He would be dead soon anyway. She would find a cliff and throw herself off it. No one could blame her, could they?

  Ten steps, twenty, thirty. Then she turned back, turned and faced what she would lose. She looked to the expanding black cloud in the sky and saw Huantag lifting to investigate. She looked back at the cliffs, where her father lay six feet under and so many that deserved more waited under white sheets. She looked at the shuttle, laid open to her wrath and hopeless hope.

  She looked at her friend crumpled in the dirt. What could she do?

  She returned to Gordon, scooping up the comm-unit from where he’d let it fall and shoving it in her pocket before guiding him back to Stepper. She would stay with them until the end, refusing to think beyond that. To do anything less would be wrong.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  AFTER A LONG, gasping, grief-stricken cry, Gordon fell asleep, a fitful fever-wrought doze full of incoherent mutterings. Janlin wished she had water to bathe his forehead.

  She moved to Stepper’s side. Here, even water seemed fruitless, although his bloody face distorted his features so she couldn’t tell just how bad he was. Janlin tore a piece of her shirt and moistened it with her own spit to carefully cleanse the blood away.

  Stepper stirred, moaning. “Shhhh,” she said, gently blowing over his face to dry and cool it.

  His eyes opened, blinked shut, opened again. “What’s happened?” he asked, still not aware of her.

  “Nothing. Just rest.”

  “Water?”

  Janlin bit her lip. “I have none.”

  Stepper rolled his head side to side in a denial. “Something’s happened, something bad. I can hear it in your voice.” His focus settled on her fully. “Jannilove,” he said, a sad admission of all they’d lost in one single word.

  She couldn’t reply. Tears sprang to her eyes, choking her, and she could
not bite her lip hard enough to make them stay put.

  “I was wrong,” he whispered, eyes closed again. “I heard the alien, heard . . .”

  Tears dropped off her chin, and she hitched in a breath. “Doesn’t matter,” she whispered back.

  His lips parted, and he made a vain attempt to moisten them. “Does,” he said. “I let you down, let you go, angry young man not so young anymore . . . too full of himself.” This took too much, and he panted for a bit. Janlin’s tears continued to flow, her sobs caught inside her in an attempt to hide them from him.

  “If I live, will you give me another chance?”

  Janlin shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. He didn’t need to know how badly her heart was broken. He’d never change. It was over anyway. Soon she’d be alone.

  “Janlin?” His voice rasped. “Please . . .”

  Choked with the grief for all that never was, and all that would never be, Janlin took up his hand.

  “We’re all out of chances, Stepper,” she said softly. She wouldn’t lie to him, even if he would die soon.

  He let his breath out in a big sigh and closed his eyes. His face relaxed, his head falling to one side. Janlin pulled him to her, lifting the wasted shell of him easily. She rocked him, cradling him to her, washing his face with her tears.

  A FAINT CRACKLE of sound brought Janlin out of a vague unconsciousness. Her throat burned, her eyes refused to function. Was she sick now, finally? She held the thought as a morbid hope of release.

  Another crackle brought her further to herself, and she pushed up to look around. Gordon lay as if dead, but then twitched, throwing his head from side to side with a cry.

  “Gordon,” she said, her voice rough.

  That crackle again, and she focused on the sound, so close, finally registering the voice coming from her pants’ pocket.

  “Jahnin?”

  Janlin gasped, practically ripping the pocket in her rush to pull the device out.

  “Anaya?”

  “Jahnin, ’ip go!” Anaya’s voice held triumph.

  Janlin stared at the comm-unit. “I thought you were dead!”

  Anaya chuffed her pleasure. “Word from man, make ’ip go.”

  Word from man—Jannilove! That was the password, his cherished nickname for her.

  “Anaya no dead. No talk—’ip no talk . . .”

  Janlin could hear her friend’s frustration with the gaps in vocabulary. “No communications after the Imag ship blew up?” she supplied.

  “Yes,” Anaya sighed. “Come get you now.”

  “How do you know where we are?” Janlin asked. The news left her somehow drained.

  Anaya explained that the device had a locator beacon. “No work before, you . . . gone. Now back. Is good.”

  Janlin looked over at the man who had repaired the device for her. “Yes, is good, but I need help fast. Medicine like Yipho gave me.”

  “Come soon.”

  Anaya signed off for re-entry, and Janlin stared at the device in her hand, knowing that if she hadn’t picked it up and kept it active, none of this would be happening.

  She looked at the two unconscious men either side of her. Janlin grit her teeth and lurched to her feet to limp outside as the sounds of a landing shuttle reached her.

  The moment the shuttle hatch opened Janlin limped and hopped inside. She found Yipho and pulled him to his medkit.

  “This, now,” she said, fumbling to try and remove it from the wall herself.

  Anaya, having followed, gently pulled Janlin’s hands away, grunting a mix of languages. She pointed with one hand and patted the medkit until Janlin realized that the entire crew, including Yipho, was carrying cases that looked suspiciously similar to the medkit.

  “Oh, sorry,” Janlin said. “This way, then. Please hurry!”

  Janlin gestured towards the shuttle and held up two fingers, then pointed towards the settlement. No one responded or even looked at her. Yipho’s mouth hung open. In fact, they all stood staring about them in what could only be complete awe.

  “Later! Later you can be amazed,” Janlin shouted. “Tell them to go!”

  Anaya barked her orders, and her crew moved.

  “What about the village?” Janlin asked.

  “See?” Anaya said, pointing. To Janlin’s surprise, a very familiar Seraph circled for landing in the distance. Anaya chuffed. “We have more crew, too,” she said. “Find Gitane with Imag, get them free.”

  “That’s fantastic, Anaya,” Janlin said. “I had moments of doubt, but you really did come through.”

  “Get human, go ’ip, find new home, yes?” Anaya looked around her, her eyes shining.

  Janlin’s gaze looked to the distant Huantag city. Anaya took her arm and turned Janlin to face her.

  “Find new home, yes?”

  Janlin pinched her lips between her teeth. Did she dare say what she was thinking?

  “Jahnin?”

  “Have you ever considered working on the planet you have?”

  The far-away sparkle dimmed, and Anaya focused a steel gaze on Janlin. “No new home?” The tone wasn’t exactly threatening, but close. Janlin could hear words like betrayal, broken deal, liar—all words Anaya didn’t know—echoing in that tone.

  Janlin flinched, looking away. “The Huantag have amazing technology, and they’ve fixed up this planet.” She dared a glance at the Gitane. Anaya stared out over the plain, so Janlin took a deep breath and continued. “If you shared your medicine, helped them recover from the sickness, they might help both of us repair our worlds.”

  Anaya’s gaze snapped to Janlin, her brow furrowed. “Why do this? Huantag no care for Gitane!” She thumped a fist on her chest for emphasis.

  “So, make friends. Give them a reason to feel grateful to you. Let them know you’re not Imag.” Anaya’s frown turned to a scowl. Janlin ploughed on. “Listen. The Imag sent this sickness among us and then traded us to the Huantag in an effort to kill them off. Then they could take their planet without having to fight for it. They even made the Huantag promise to keep us here, never letting us leave the planet, on the threat of war. Meanwhile they planned this biological war all along. Is this a Gitane way?” She took a deep breath, wondering if the next step took things too far. “If you aren’t bothered by the fact that the Huantag are dying in huge numbers and might be wiped out altogether, then I don’t want to take you out into the universe.”

  “You promise!”

  “Sure, I did. But the Huantag are dying. You can have this planet all to yourself, so I’ve kept my end of the bargain by finding you a new home planet.” Janlin dropped the flippant tone and turned to face Anaya full on. “They’re dying, Anaya! Don’t you care about that? If you don’t, I would prefer to leave you here to do just as the Imag were going to do.” Janlin opened her arms to the landscape around them. “This will be all yours, since the Huantag will soon be dead in staggering numbers without your help.”

  Was she getting through? Anaya stared at the middle distance again. Janlin let the alien sift her thoughts for a few minutes. She kept glancing at the shuttle, itching to go see Gordon and Stepper, make sure they were okay, but she couldn’t give up on this.

  “Help the Huantag, and they will likely help you in return. That’s the kind of people they are.”

  Anaya blinked and sucked in a big breath. Before she could speak, Yipho and a crewmate emerged from the Huantag shuttle carrying Gordon. Janlin hobbled over to him, pleading with every limping step for the universe to cut her a break and let him live.

  His eyes were closed, with a breathing cup over his mouth and nose. One touch to his forehead, her other hand taking his, and his eyes fluttered opened.

  “They stuck me,” he said, his words slurred.

  “Yeah,” Janlin said around a big grin. “Yeah, they did.” She patted Yipho’s arm, nodding and smiling and wishing she had some way to thank him. Did Gitane hug?

  Anaya pulled Janlin back while giving orders to her crew.

/>   “That’s going to work, right?” she said to Anaya. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

  “Yes, Yipho good. It work.”

  Janlin struggled to breathe past the overwhelming relief. “Tell them, thank you,” Janlin said to Anaya. “Thank you,” she said to them directly, hoping the tone carried the sincere meaning even if the words were foreign. Anaya added words that made the stretcher-bearers chuff and raise their chins with pride.

  They returned to the Huantag shuttle. Janlin stared at the hatch, her proposition to Anaya forgotten. Soon Yipho emerged, followed by a second stretcher. She couldn’t bring herself to ask. Anaya called out to Yipho, and he answered with a nod and a toothy grimace.

  “He okay too,” Anaya said. “But very sick.”

  Janlin nodded, not trusting her own voice.

  They boarded the Gitane ship and settled the men into their version of med-bay. Janlin had a moment of memory for her father, which led to Teardrop and Tyrell and Sandy and Ron and Victor . . . Janlin sucked in breath after breath, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of loss.

  Anaya stood at the open hatchway, staring out over the planet’s scrub plain. Janlin considered going back to her original agreement. Would it be so bad to take the Gitane to a new planet somewhere? It would be what humankind would have to do . . . unless they could get help from the Huantag.

  The Huantag were right. People are tied to their planet of origin, and they needed to make the effort to correct the mistakes they’d made instead of just running away. Human and Gitane alike. She had to hold firm. But if Anaya didn’t agree with Janlin’s new sense of honour, it might make getting the Hope away from them a bit tricky.

  Janlin straightened her back, gripped her resolve, and went to stand beside the alien she wanted to call a friend.

  “I’m glad the Imag threat is gone,” Janlin said. “Although I’m confused about how it all happened. We told our shipmate on board you were there. She could’ve gotten free!”

  Anaya faced Janlin. “Anaya see Fran. She want to die a big hero.”