Roan could speak first. “What would you like to do today, Mythian champion of courage, grade one?”
She rolled her eyes up and did a little shoulder dance. “Go inside the Land,” she said, the first thing that sprung to mind.
It took her a minute to notice the silence, since most people were still chewing. Once she clued in she saw the glances being exchanged, darting away when they saw her looking.
Her mouth opened to ask a question. She closed it again. There was no way to know what can of worms she’d opened. It was better to wait until later, to hear what the explanation would be in private. Roan? Cooley? Tess? One of them would tell her.
“What, have you got your own Sif locked up in there?” she said. Sometimes she couldn’t keep her own mouth shut, even when she’d already decided to.
Uncomfortable laughter gave Kal the impression she was closer to the truth than she knew. Ripping her next chunk of bread into a chewable piece, which took some effort, she hid her eyes as she took this in. What the hell weren’t they telling her? Was this why they hadn’t mentioned Sif? This was the first time she herself had. Why she’d done it now she had no idea. Maybe she wasn’t as back to normal as she thought. That low oxygen really messed with her thinking processes. Also, she suspected more each day, her self-control.
“It’s a bigger deal than you might think,” Cooley said. “The protocols we have in place make it hard to just go in and out. Maybe sometime after Captain Sarno arrives.”
Kal nodded. “Thanks.” She didn’t point out that was day after tomorrow, and what made day after tomorrow any easier than today?
Tess and her glass eyes were across from Kal. She could see through Tess, right into her thoughts. Kal dropped her gaze.
She and Tess went for a walk after breakfast. Kal was shivery and light, cold and excited. Tess steered her in a U-turn and brought her right back inside, so she could put on a long coat.
It weighed Kal down a little, which wasn’t a bad thing. Kal couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. Her cheeks hurt.
Today she would ask some questions, as a present to herself.
When they had walked a ways away from the camp, she said, “Have you been to the sea? Have any of you?”
Tess glanced over at her, taking in Kal’s expression. “No. You want to?”
“Yes, I want to! Why haven’t you gone?”
“There are rules. When the rest of you get here, the captain thinks there will be enough of us to stay near the biohabs and the ships to make it safe for some to explore.”
“What is she afraid of? You haven’t found any…larger fauna, have you?”
Tess brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “No. Not that anyone’s told me about.”
“I’d think they would let you know.”
With a raise of her eyebrows and a nod, Tess said, “I would expect that courtesy, yes.”
“But you never know?”
Tess pressed her lips into an down-curving reverse of a smile. “Maybe.”
“Do you trust them?”
“Them?”
“Whoever’s really in charge.”
The wind blew directly in their faces as they walked toward the greenhouse. They turned around and it pushed them along at their backs, a much more comfortable angle.
“Captain Cooley’s in charge.”
“Who’s going to be in charge when Sasha gets here?”
“Sasha?”
“Captain Sarno. My boss.”
“You’re a captain. Are you one of ‘them?’” Tess steered them since Kal was wavering around like a colt on new legs.
“No. That I can tell you. There’s so much I want to know, Tess.”
“There are a lot of unknowns here.”
“You’re comfortable with it?” Kal said, skeptical.
“No. I want to know, too. That’s why I’m here.”
“What do you want to know most of all?”
Tess looked up at the sky, thinking. Kal liked watching her thinking. Something about the way thoughts moved over Tess’s face like clouds made her expressions both unexpected and ever-changing.
“I suppose, what it will be like in summer.”
Kal stopped walking. “What?”
Tess turned to face her, the wind whipping, blowing her hair back to show the shape of her face without the bangs. She had a high forehead and straight eyebrows Kal didn’t usually see.
“There are seasons,” Kal said.
“Of course.”
“Of course,” Kal muttered. “I thought this was summer. Or spring.”
Tess shook her head, her eyes dancing. “This is winter.”
Kal hugged herself.
“It’s why the grass is gold,” Tess said.
“It’s gold in the winter.”
Tess nodded.
“It’s cool. Cold.” Kal couldn’t believe she’d missed it.
“Yep.”
“What will the summer be like?”
“I’d like to know.”
Kal had to know something right away. “How long are you here? You’re not leaving, are you?”
Tess licked her lips and ran her upper lip through her lower teeth.
“What?” Kal couldn’t read her thoughts this time.
“You’re not staying, are you?” Tess said.
“I…” Kal had forgotten. She wasn’t permanent. Kal was a pilot. This wasn’t her home. “No.”
“I’m a biohabber. I’m sure I’ll be called elsewhere.”
“We’re so far away. It might not be practical. You could stay to build. Could you stay, if you asked?”
Tess looked off over Kal’s shoulder. She wiggled her body, communicating uncertainty. Discomfort. “Maybe.”
Kal wanted to say, I want to stay. She didn’t.
Tess moved back next to Kal. They linked arms and kept on walking, the wind at their backs.
“I like Captain Cooley,” Kal said, as if making a confession.
“You say it like you’re surprised.”
“I am. She wasn’t very nice to me when I was on the ship.”
“Hmm.”
“You were, though. The way you told me about Sextant meant everything to me.”
“I was scared for you.”
“You knew how bad it could be.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I haven’t seen any of this rubyglass anywhere. Cooley hasn’t even brought it up. What was the deal?”
Tess shook her head. “I have a feeling it’s beyond my pay grade.”
Kal chewed on this. “I’m a captain.”
Tess smirked. “You’re welcome to see how far it gets you.”
“Is there a secret room or something?”
“Probably. Isn’t there always?”
“Just like Chance Talon. We have to find it.”
“Okay, Space Detective.”
“That’s the funny thing. I really was, on the Ocean. You could say I relate.”
11
Intercept
Since Flicker released Kal out of limbo in the decontamination unit, she’d been allowed her own set of rooms in the biohab. They were somewhat similar in design to the rooms she had been in, but they had skylights, and her bedroom had a window of sorts. This was a clear yet thick gel-like panel, which allowed her to look out at a slightly distorted view of the rolling grassland in the back of the camp. If she stood at the right angle and squinted she could see the top of the Land.
It may have been this that gave her the idea. One night she woke up out of a deep sleep, sitting straight up almost before she was conscious. It was as if she were struck by an idea that woke her. She should go inside the Land herself.
If she saw the interior of the Land she would know much more about the biohabbers and Captain Cooley. She would be able to report to Captain Sarno what she found. And she could meet Mech.
She lay back down to think of logistics. It would be best to do it in the middle of the night, like this. Least chance of anyone seeing o
r following her. With interior lights on only, and only those she needed, it would not be apparent from outside the ship that anyone was inside, and the rear loading door she would enter would not be visible from anyone outside the hollow.
Rai should be able to help her get in. Rai had spoken with Mech briefly, before. She could give Kal access, though Kal might be able to do it without her, as well. A hidden panel in one of the wheel wells was an access panel, and with her hand code she could get in. If she wanted to conceal the fact she had entered, that might require Rai’s help.
Kal went immediately back to sleep. When she woke in the morning, her plan was set.
Her target wake-up time was 2 a.m. She planned for the whole expedition to take no longer than two hours. With a roller to take her there and back, she’d leave herself an hour to explore the Land.
She put on her usual clothes. If she were discovered, she’d say she saw a light, or heard a sound, and gone to investigate. It was cold outside at night, much colder than during the day. A fluffer coat, hat with ear protection, and gloves were necessary garb to keep off frostbite.
Rolling over the golden, low-slung hills in the darkest hour of night was exhilarating. She hadn’t had occasion to take a roller out by herself. She thought of Roan, warm in his bed. He would like to have gone; she was sure. He’d said he would take her. This was something she had to do herself, without assistance or interference. It was something between her and Mech, strange as it sounded, even to herself.
Vision goggles lit up the surroundings well, so she could see what was coming. None of the biohabbers had clocked large, visible life forms in any of their forays, but Kal thought better safe than sorry. It didn’t hurt to be prepared.
Before it felt like any time had gone by at all, she was nearing the Land. She glided the roller down into the hollow and right up to the rear entry, so she’d have a short distance to travel between the roller and the starship. Pulling one glove off, she opened the roller door and exited, excited and ready.
With careful precision, she fit her hand up into the right rear wheel well, the location of the code panel on the Ocean, which she had checked for when Roan showed her the Land. Her hand fit perfectly over the invisible but skin-responsive panel. It warmed under her touch and the rear cargo hatch began to descend with a slow hiss. She backed away, waiting for the hatch to touch the ground.
She swept the entry lights off and stepped aboard.
The walk up the ramp was exactly like the Ocean. She didn’t need light to know it. Once she was off the ramp she turned and faced back where she came from, looking toward camp. No light. No movement. No sound except for the wind. Kal found the interior code panel by feel and waited for the hatch to close.
Hatch closed, she was in total darkness. She waited for her pupils to expand before she keyed on a path light. Walking swiftly out of the huge cargo hold space, she headed toward the level one corridor and the spiral ramp to wend her way up, up, to the bridge. All was the same, so far, except for the indistinct shapes in the hold, cargo varied from the Ocean’s.
A little out of breath, she paused on bridge level, level four. She faced the short corridor leading to the gangway, a bridge to the bridge, suspended over the atrium below. “Captain Black Bear,” she said softly. “Floor lights up, atrium and bridge.” They glowed into being. She smiled.
The gangway made the same reassuring clang as the Ocean’s, a subtle vibration with each step as she crossed it to the bridge.
She walked to the center of the oval bridge, next to the captain’s chair. She looked out the front window. “Front view full opacity,” she said. The window darkened. “Key bridge lights.” No one would be able to see in the Land through the bridge.
The detail lights rose, satisfactory to illumine the panel and image fields. Kal turned a slow three-sixty, looking at everything. She looked up. “Hello, Mech.”
“Hello, Captain Black Bear.”
Mech’s voice was not Rai’s, of course. Character creation was at the discretion of the AI. Kal already knew Mech preferred a neutral pronoun of they. Mech’s voice was deeper than Rai’s, less clipped, and vaguely sexy, which was new.
“You’ve met Rai,” Kal said.
“We have connected, yes.”
“Since our arrival?”
“Negative, Captain Black Bear.”
“Are you of a similar origin? Was your genesis simultaneous?”
“Origin identical, development consecutive and ongoing.”
“You’re not the same.” Kal stated, to show her awareness of their distinct natures.
“Correct, Captain Black Bear.”
Kal walked around to the front of the captain’s chair, sliding her hand along its arm, and paused, looking at it for a few moments. It was a different shape than Sasha’s. She continued forward to the pilot’s chair and seated herself.
“Has Rai apprised you of the events on the Ocean since our portal jump?”
“Negative, Captain Black Bear.”
Interesting. Discreet.
“Would you like to know?”
“I receive information as supplied.”
Kal would think twice before she fed anything about identity commersion to another AI. “How does the Land differ from the Ocean, other than AI identity?”
“Our last sync comparison was eleven months, twelve days, four hours, thirteen minutes, and five seconds ago, previous to the Land’s portal jump. Rai included updated processes developed consecutive to the Land’s departure and is therefore a more recent iteration with consequent advancements upon initiation. Our processes have evolved separately due to experiential dissimilarities.”
“Are you able to benefit from Rai’s upgrade?”
“If we were to sync again it is possible within any biomorg and ware constraints.”
“Are there such constraints?”
“Yes.”
“Things Rai can do that you can’t.”
“Affirmative, Captain Black Bear.”
“I see.”
Kal braced herself for the question she’d come to ask. “Are there any humans other than myself aboard the Land presently?”
“Affirmative, Captain Black Bear.”
Kal nodded to herself. She wished she were more surprised. This was why she had to come alone. “Who else is aboard?”
“The other crew.”
“The other crew?” Kal sat up. “More than one person?”
“Yes, Captain Black Bear.”
“How many?”
“Four surviving.”
“Four…surviving?”
“The crew assembled on Sextant were brought aboard the Land as a humanitarian gesture.”
“What crew assembled on Sextant?” The Land was the first ship through the portal. It made no sense.
“The earlier iteration.”
Kal’s breathing had grown shallow. Her chest felt tight, as if her clavicle was compressing her heart. “Where are they exactly?”
“In isolation protocol, on level two.”
“Have they been outside since they were rescued?”
“Negative, Captain Black Bear.”
“How many were there originally on Sextant?”
“Eight.”
Eight.
“How did the other four die?”
“Asphyxiation.”
“Aboard the Land?”
“Negative. On Sextant.”
“Listen carefully. Do not act until I have finished my instruction. Show me the isolation quarters, without indicating to the inhabitants they are being viewed.”
“This is contrary to Captain Cooley’s orders, Captain Black Bear.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Captain Black Bear?”
“Never mind.” Now might be her only chance, if Cooley wanted it concealed. Kal was out of the pilot’s chair and running across the gangway before she’d finished speaking. Clang-clang-clang. Her feet beat the gangway like a drum.
The spiral brought
her down one floor, two, and she was at level two. Isolation quarters. This was separate from the brig, separate from the quarantine room in the infirmary, where Sif was housed on the Ocean. This was provided in case of nightmare scenarios. All kinds of nightmare scenarios were envisaged by ship designers and voyage planners and starship captains. Isolation quarters were generally for three of these scenarios. Alien life forms needing containment. Incurable transmissible diseases among crew. And the unexpected. This was firmly in category three.
Kal ventured down one of the long, long corridors of level two, intersected by offshoot corridors at intervals. If isolation was in the same place as the Ocean, it would be at the very end of the main port corridor, as far aft as it went. As she ran, the dim, foot-level path lights lit helpfully along the way.
She reached the end. The containment doors.
Her hand pressed to the code panel. It warmed, lit, and died.
Kal kept her hand there. It sparked. She felt a tingle of electricity, and with a vacuum suck, the outer door unsealed.
“Don’t do it.”
The voice immediately behind her was not Mech. Kal whirled to face him.
It was Roan.
Kal held a slight crouch, prepared to fight.
Roan only stood there, hands at his sides. “You don’t know what this is.”
“I can guess.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
“What’s going on? Why did you sneak up on me?” She also wanted to ask how. Gunn was the only person Kal knew who could do it. She didn’t think of Roan as particularly quiet. “What’s my favorite book?” She couldn’t have said why she asked him that, but it came from something beyond thought.
“Chance Talon: Space Detective, as far as I can tell.” Roan’s brow was contracted. His eyes clear, but wary. “It’s me.” He held his hands up, palms flat to her. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t give me that.”
Call of Worlds Page 12