Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  The other Fabri unslung his weapon, a thistlegun. "Quickly, then. Before we are seen." He bowed briefly to the others. "With your permission, I will move to another position, to offer additional protection." Without waiting for a reply, he melted into the trees.

  His companion spoke softly to the ferrcat, touching the glowing jewel hanging from its collar. Then he set the cat down. It stretched languorously for a moment, then suddenly flashed into motion, darting down through the brush in a fast zigzag, and out of the woods. It paused at the edge of the lawn, peering up into the treetops as though checking for birds; then it sauntered on toward the house.

  "I have asked N'tari to find the woman and lead her to us. Now, we shall have to wait and see..." With those words, the Fabri raised his own thistlegun to the ready.

  * * *

  Maris woke up wondering why she was suddenly hearing voices. Or imagining voices, a soft mewling in her mind...

  This way, Maris... this way to a friend...

  She shivered, wondering if her captors had reactivated her implants. They'd claimed to have saved her life by turning them off; but what was to prevent them from switching them back on to keep her under their control?

  But this hadn't felt like a controlling force; it was more like a living voice. Not hostile. Friendly.

  Come to the window. Come and you'll see me...

  There it was again.

  Come to the window.

  Like a purring in her mind. Come...

  She rubbed her forehead. Well, why not? She could make it if she moved carefully. She heard Dennis clattering in the kitchen, and Lydia down the hall. If she got up slowly, now... if anyone saw her, she was just... going to the window.

  Maris pushed herself to her feet, staggering a little. She caught her balance and stepped away from the chair. Dennis was clinking glassware. No sign of Lydia. Three more steps. She reached the living room window and gripped the sill.

  Hello... there you are...

  She peered through the curtain at an overgrown lawn, leading out to a woods. A light rain was falling.

  A small face popped up on the other side of the glass. She stifled a cry. It wasn't a human face; it was an animal. White. Like a large cat or weasel... wearing a collar with something glowing on it...

  I can show you the way out.

  Maris drew back, startled. Was the thing speaking in her mind? Maybe that glowing thing on its collar was doing it. The animal dropped out of sight. Maris leaned forward to peer out and down. The animal was on all fours on the ground. It was the size of a large house cat, with a bushy tail. It glanced up at her, then trotted toward the back door. To meet her?

  Maris drew a breath. What was this all about? Faber Eridani was apparently full of hostiles. It would be insane to trust this animal. Wouldn't it?

  She remembered her determination to run, if she could.

  The touch of the animal's mind was reassuring. She sensed an earnestness. This way. My friends sent me. Your friends. Friends of Harriet. Friends of Legroeder. You know Legroeder?

  Maris stiffened. Had she heard right? She pressed her face to the window again. The animal was standing outside the back door, staring up at it expectantly.

  "What are you doing?"

  Maris jerked back from the window, staggering a little. Lydia glared from the hallway.

  "I'm just—"

  "Well, you shouldn't be—"

  "Shouldn't be up without help," said Dennis, interrupting Lydia as he came in from the kitchen. "Still, can't blame you for being curious, I suppose."

  "We're supposed to be keeping her safe!" Lydia snarled. She pointed a finger at Maris. "Do not expose yourself like that!"

  "But I was just—"

  "Miss O'Hare," said Dennis, "please stay away from the windows. We don't know who might be out there."

  Maris allowed herself to look more confused than she felt. "But you're keeping an eye out with all these sensors, aren't you?" She shot a glance at the console.

  Dennis opened his palms. "True. There's no need to get all worked up."

  Lydia scowled. "Look—just be more careful, all right?" She hooked a thumb at Dennis. "Let's talk."

  Dennis shrugged and followed Lydia out into the kitchen.

  Maris's pulse quickened. Her chance? Was she crazy?

  Friend of Harriet and Legroeder—come quickly!

  Her heart was pounding like a drum. What the hell was she thinking? But if this was for real...

  Voices came from the kitchen:

  "She's not a goddamn house guest, you know!" Lydia sounded furious.

  "Look, the orders were just that she's to be held—"

  "Held, you moron. Held."

  "But for safety—"

  Lydia's voice dropped in volume, but the contempt was sharper than ever. "...are we going to keep her safe if she's sticking her goddamn face out the goddamn window—?"

  Maris was surprised to realize that she'd crossed half the distance to the door while listening to the exchange from the kitchen. Her hand was reaching out.

  Be quick! To safety! Before the others get here!

  An image filled her mind of people approaching in the woods, strangers even less friendly than her captors here in the house. Maris shuddered, and pulled her hand back.

  "...keep her the same way we'd keep any prisoner!"

  "But the commander said we could—"

  "What? The less she knows the better. You know that."

  "You were the one who said—"

  I sense your fear. I can lead you to help.

  Maris squeezed the door handle. What am I doing? What will happen if I stay?

  You don't want to meet the others.

  There was a bang in the kitchen. "We better not leave her alone in there."

  "Well, it's not as if she can—"

  Maris yanked the handle and staggered out of the house. Raindrops struck her face. Fragments of memory of her escape from the outpost cascaded into her mind—the confusion, the urgency and fear, the need to escape now. Blood rushed in her ears.

  Quickly... quickly...

  The animal was waving its front paws like an excited dog. The pendant on its collar was pulsing with pink light. Now, Miss Maris! Follow!

  "Okay," she whispered, surrendering all reason, except that this creature had spoken the name of Legroeder, the only friend she knew. The creature sprang to the right, away from the house. Maris followed on shaky legs.

  An alarm was trilling.

  "She's gone out!"

  "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

  There was a pounding of footsteps.

  * * *

  "Major," said the corporal, "who's that coming out of the house?"

  Talbott peered down through the woods.

  "There she is!" shouted Lieutenant Cassill. "It's her."

  Jezu. "Let's get moving! Get her!" Talbott shoved the underbrush aside with his rifle as he leaped downward toward the clearing.

  * * *

  "There she is—!" shouted an unfamiliar woman's voice.

  Maris hesitated, turning her head.

  "Get her!" called a man's voice from the same direction.

  No! cried the animal. Follow me!

  Maris ran dizzily after the scurrying creature.

  "You stupid bitch!" screamed Lydia.

  A plasma beam crackled across the wet grass behind her, and there was a muffled shriek of pain.

  * * *

  "What's the ferrcat doing—look! There's a woman coming out!" rasped Georgio, pointing a tentacle-arm.

  Morgan rose from behind the bushes, stunned. "That's her, that's Maris! She's alive. She's running!"

  "She's following the animal," Pew boomed in his foghorn voice.

  "There she is!" shouted a voice from the far side of the clearing. Morgan blinked, then realized that it was one of the Centrist Strength people. Another voice shouted, and then a door banged, and a different woman's voice: "...stupid bitch!"

  "We've got to move!" Mor
gan hissed. "Now!" She jumped up to shout to Maris, but Pew's large, horny hand shoved her back down. A shot crackled across the lawn; the flash had come from the far side of the clearing. A woman screamed in pain. Not Maris.

  "NOW!" boomed Pew, leaping out to crash downward through the bushes. A weapon had materialized in his hand. Georgio leaped after him, and Morgan scrambled to follow. Maris was running in their direction, after the ferrcat.

  More shots. From the house, from the woods; it was dizzying, and Morgan couldn't tell who was shooting at whom. But the woman she'd seen circling the house earlier was down in a heap, and the Centrist Strength trio were crashing down through the brush across the way. Morgan cupped her hands and shouted, "Maris—KEEP GOING! Stay down!"

  Pew and Georgio dropped for cover, and Pew's great hand swung up, aiming his weapon across the clearing.

  The fleeing Maris saw the movement of the gun and dove into the grass even as Pew shouted, "Get down, Miss O'Hare!"

  Morgan sucked a breath, expecting to see fire erupt from Pew's weapon. The three Centrists, bursting into the clearing, were exchanging fire not with Pew but with someone in the house. But before Pew could fire, Morgan heard the zzzip of a thistlegun. She saw the Fabri in the trees to her right taking another aim. One of the Centrist Strength men was down, and the other was staggering back. The Centrist Strength woman grabbed the second man and pulled him back toward cover.

  Another man, apparently from inside the house, came around the corner—and fell face down with a smoking hole in his back. The Centrist Strength woman swung her weapon around, looking for another target, then retreated before a hail of thistledarts.

  The Fabri who had fired gestured to Morgan and her friends, waving them forward. Morgan launched herself down through the brush, and out onto the lawn.

  Maris was crawling along the ground now. The ferrcat was leading her straight toward Morgan. "Maris!" Morgan gasped, sliding to her knees on the wet grass beside the woman. "We're here to help. To take you to safety."

  "Who are you?" whispered Maris fiercely, struggling to rise. "Are you—"

  "Friends of Legroeder. Friends of Legroeder. Come with us now, quickly."

  Maris gasped and forced herself up. "How do I know you're—"

  "You've got to trust us. Come on. Just a little farther." Pew and Georgio were at her side now. Pew lifted Maris effortlessly and carried her up into the forest at a run.

  Glancing back, Morgan saw one of the two Fabri standing watch, thistlegun at the ready. The closer one whistled in a shrill tone, and the ferrcat ran back to him, a streak of white through the brush. Morgan gasped her thanks to the Fabri. He merely nodded, catching the ferrcat. Georgio kept his weapon raised, covering her retreat.

  Morgan beat a fast path up through the woods to Pew and Maris, then fled with them across the ridge toward the waiting car.

  Chapter 36

  Return to Ivan

  "What the hell happened to you?" Glenswarg demanded.

  Legroeder was standing in front of a mirror, wondering the same thing. The face that looked back at him was thin, dark-haired, and olive-skinned. The eyes were blue. It was his face, the face he'd had all his life, until the Narseil surgeons ran their camouflage job on him. There was no hint at all of the pale skin or the umbrella-cut white hair. Which probably explained why half the bridge crew had stared at him as he'd left the rigger-station after the battle.

  Something happened during the quantum passage. Had a part of him gone back in time?

  // Our internal records are incomplete for that period. But there may have been spontaneous activity by the residual plastic-surgical agents in your bloodstream... //

  Legroeder grunted to himself and turned to the captain. "This is what I look like. What I'm supposed to look like." The three Narseil were standing behind the captain, and they appeared to be suppressing laughter—Cantha and Palagren, anyway. Ker'sell merely looked perplexed, his vertical eyes slightly crossed.

  Glenswarg was scowling, though. "Do you intend to explain?"

  Legroeder sighed. (You really don't know what happened?) he asked the implants.

  // Negative. Internal recordkeeping failed during the passage. Or rather, was crowded out by a massive influx of data concerning the structure of the flaw—which, by the way, you will find very interesting.//

  (Yeah? What kind of data?) He was aware of Glenswarg staring at him, still waiting for an answer.

  // We're still analyzing. But you saw more during that passage than you might have realized. We must consider very carefully how to use it... //

  Thoughts spinning, Legroeder forced a grin at Glenswarg and began stammering out an explanation. "What I looked like before... was a form of camouflage, you might say. It was before we were all working together..."

  Glenswarg's frown only deepened.

  * * *

  During the flight back, Legroeder thought often about what the implants had said about the quantum flaw data. He could never quite get them to elaborate clearly; they were always still analyzing. But his own memories were beginning to come back in flickering bursts. Splinters of light fracturing off in all directions, like the needles of a new-born ice crystal... quantum flaws entwined through the Flux... The visions gave him shivers of awe and fear. Just how closely had his implants traced the positions of those flaws, anyway?

  He debriefed with Glenswarg, and discussed the passage with his rigger-mates. The Narseil were absorbed in their own detailed studies of the instrumentation data. They weren't sure what to make of Legroeder's observations—they had caught intimations of the sprawling proliferation of the flaw, but few details; but then each of them had seen features no one else had seen. Legroeder found himself wondering how long it would take his implants to complete their own analysis. He missed Deutsch, who was still aboard Impris, flying in formation with the fleet. They spoke on flux-com from time to time, but that wasn't the same thing as sitting down together. Legroeder wanted to know what Deutsch had really gone though during the passage.

  He also wondered what kind of reception they were going to receive from Yankee-Zulu/Ivan. YZ/I, of course, should be delighted to see them pull in with Impris; but would he be as happy to keep his end of the bargain once Impris was parked in his dock? And what about Tracy-Ace/Alfa? His thoughts veered one way and then another as he thought about her: remembering her eyes, her touch, the flowing connection between them... and then thinking, what if she had only been used to set him up? Would she still be there for him, now that the job was done?

  And what of Maris, and Harriet—and Harriet's grandson? And now that he'd found Impris, would he succeed in clearing his name at last?

  No wonder he felt so damned anxious.

  * * *

  Watching from the bridge as Phoenix docked at Outpost Ivan, Legroeder struggled with a new set of mixed emotions. He could not believe, watching as the Kyber riggers brought the ship in to the outer docks of the Kyber fortress, how much like home Outpost Ivan looked to him. The last thing he wanted was to feel at home here. With luck, that wouldn't be a problem for long.

  Cantha appeared at his side. "Troubled?" the Narseil asked. Legroeder nodded. "Well, if you're thinking what I'm thinking... we are not entirely without resources."

  Legroeder turned and gazed at the stocky Narseil.

  Cantha scratched under the neck of his Narseil khakis; he hadn't had a decent soak in a pool since leaving H'zzarrelik, and the thick crest on the back of his neck was looking pretty flaky. "I was just thinking," Cantha said as he turned to view the fleet movement in the monitors, "that we learned an awful lot of new rigging science out there, and we haven't really even sorted it all out among ourselves." His slitted, vertical eyes shifted to catch Legroeder's gaze. "But it could be very useful—to many people. If you know what I mean."

  Legroeder glanced around at the Kyber crewmen on the bridge. Useful, indeed. "I think I do, yes," he said, drawing a deep breath. "I think I do."

  * * *

  The escor
t ships fell back to allow tugs to bring Impris into dock; Phoenix docked alongside the passenger liner. The procedure seemed to take forever, but eventually Captain Glenswarg called, "Shut down engines." Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to Legroeder and the Narseil. "Gentlemen, you've discharged your duties well. You may collect your things and go stationside." He shook each of their hands. "Good work, riggers. It's been one hell of an experience having you aboard, that's for sure." It was the closest thing to levity Legroeder had ever heard from Glenswarg.

  "It's been an experience working with you, too, sir," Legroeder said, cracking half a smile. "I suppose we might see you around the station?"

  "I suppose we might," Glenswarg agreed. With a brisk salute, he turned back to his bridge duties. Legroeder and the Narseil trooped off to the airlock.

  If Legroeder was hoping they might be greeted by Tracy-Ace in the docking bay, he was unsurprised to find a security escort instead. The leader of the escort, ears bristling with augments, bowed. "Riggers, Yankee-Zulu/Ivan welcomes you back, and requests a meeting at the earliest opportunity."

  "Um—" Legroeder said, squinting at the man's name badge. Lieutenant Zond, it looked like. "Certainly. But do you mind if we see our colleagues off Impris first? We've had quite a time of it."

  "Of course," the lieutenant said, gesturing down the platform. "That was the next thing I was going to say. We're about to have the formal opening of the Impris hatch. First time in a hundred years, I understand. Of course we want all of you to be on hand."

  Not quite the first time, Legroeder thought dryly, but confined himself to saying, "A hundred twenty-four years, actually."

  Lieutenant Zond gave no sign of having heard, but led the way around to the Impris docking platform. A clear wall afforded a breathtaking view of the ship, like a great silver whale. About a third of the way down its hull, a circle of security people surrounded the main hatch. In the middle of the circle stood Tracy-Ace/Alfa.