The Jump Point

by Anthony James

  Chutzpah also gave the ship the once over from his perch on her shoulder. He chattered softly to himself as his tail flicked up and down with disapproval. He wasn't fond of shipboard travel at the best of times, and she could feel the discomfort beginning to radiate from him. She reached up to give him a placating stroke.

  "Well, I guess she'll do in a pinch," she said, smiling. "Whose is the artwork Timon — yours, I presume?"

  "Now, why would you think that? Not at all — I inherited her just as you see her now, from an aged religious man who rode in her solely at High Festival. Once a year for planetary pleasure jaunts you understand," he said with a mischievous grin, hands firmly planted on his hips. "Save me, I swear it on my eyes. But enough of that. Plenty enough chatter. We could stand here all day swapping pleasantries. Wouldn't you prefer to come aboard? I think you've probably seen enough of her exterior."

  Mahra answered his infectious grin and moved over to take the hand proffered to help her climb aboard. Pellis's grip was firm and his hand pleasantly warm. He helped to lift her the final distance with minimal effort and she pulled up, finding herself standing only a whisper away from his face, her hand still firmly held in his. There was an awkward pause that lasted a moment too long as they stood, face to face in the shadow of the lock. Mahra felt something stir within her.

  It was Chutzpah who broke the moment, hissing at Pellis with sharp incisors barred and ears flat back against his furry head. Timon promptly dropped Mahra's hand and stepped back a pace. Chutzpah continued hissing at him from her shoulder, obviously not satisfied that he was making his point. Timon simply stood, keeping his distance, and looked from the bristling zimonette's face to Mahra's and back again with a slightly quizzical smile.

  "Come on Chutz. That is enough! You'll have to excuse him, Timon. He doesn't like being shipboard that much at the best of times, and he gets a bit territorial when he's nervous."

  "No, no. Don't you give it another thought, Mahra. No harm done. After all, it's only his way of protecting what's his. Sure, he'll get used to it all soon enough. Now, you follow me and I'll show you the rest of The Dark Falcon,"

  He tilted his head in the direction of the inner passageway.

  "She was a bit banged up after our last excursion, but here she is now, almost as good as new," he said.

  Pellis patted the inner wall affectionately and, ducking through the inner access port, led the way to the interior. Mahra listened with half an ear to Timon's running commentary as she followed him down the inner corridor.

  As Pellis led her on the guided tour, she found to her surprise that The Dark Falcon's internals were functional without being cramped. There was a central passageway running the length of the craft, large enough to accommodate Pellis's tall frame, without wasting any of the available space. Doorways ran the length, alternating up and down each side. This was clearly a dictate of practicality. Better to step out of a doorway without the risk of colliding with someone emerging from a door directly opposite. There was no real indication of the function of the rooms lying behind them, but Mahra presumed she'd became more familiar with the layout in time. Pellis chatted on as he led her on his tour.

  Her quarters would be closest to the lock, first in the line of fire in the event of trouble. That figured. Sind and Pellis were quartered toward the front with easy access to the bridge. It all made perfect sense. Each living quarters sported its own sanitary amenities, a luxury rarely found on a ship this size. There were communal facilities, showers, and sanitary units toward the rear but she doubted they really served any useful purpose. The ship had been remodelled at some stage and these remained as an oversight of that process. The armoury was opposite her own quarters, again, obviously with easy access in mind.

  The spare cabin and her own were separated from the front by a fully stocked and convenienced galley and rec room. It was plain that very little expense had been spared in the fitting of The Dark Falcon and Mahra was suitably impressed by what she saw. Her appreciative noises only served to fuel Pellis's enthusiasm as he guided her from section to section.

  Access to both the drive rooms and the cargo hold was via the passageway's rear. Timon skirted over the details of the propulsion units, that particular area obviously being outside his expertise. He skimmed over the more technical aspects wherever possible, but did so without losing too many of the details to leave her groping for function and purpose. It was at least enough to get her started.

  Roughly an hour since her entrance and two areas of the ship remained unseen. Pellis looked her square in the face with an appraising eye before speaking again.

  "Yes, I think you'll do, you know. Well, we've neglected a couple of important things. I'll give you a choice. Either we break now and replenish our energy with a fine mug of kahveh — finest in the system even if I do say so myself — or we can continue. The decision is yours."

  "Thanks, Timon, but I'd prefer to see all of her. We can take a break afterward, before I get settled in."

  "Right you are," he said with a tilt of his head. "You had best follow me then."

  He beckoned for her to follow up the passageway, coming to a halt at a series of steps moulded into the side wall toward the front. They led upward to a small portal set into the round ceiling, just wide enough for one person to squeeze through.

  "Up there. Battle pod. You can get the feel of it a little later. No trouble about the facilities. She's state of the art. Holo links to all external sensory input. Totally shielded. Scares the hell out of me it does. But that one's your baby. You've probably not had the opportunity to see its like, but Jay assures me there's nothing to it. I'll take his word for that. If you have any questions about it, you can get him to tell you what you need to know. All right? Now come on with me and we'll show you the heart of this baby."

  He led the way forward to where the passageway swept upward in a reasonably steep curve ending in a smooth doorway with a bank of controls at one side. This was the entrance to the flight deck, the ship's nerve centre. Pellis tapped a sequence on the panel and the door slid open to reveal a cubicle large enough to hold four people standing in comfort. One wall had a set of storage lockers, the opposite wall was featureless apart from another bank of controls and a com unit built into the surface. Pellis tapped a sequence too fast for Mahra to follow and the outer door hissed shut behind them.

  She realised at once that the cubicle was, in reality, another lock. It was a funny place to have one. She decided to hold her questions until she was a little more aware of the set up. Her unspoken queries were brought to an abrupt halt as the inner door slid open to the control room beyond.

  The flight deck, like the remainder of the ship, was well appointed. Ensconced in the middle sat the squat form of Jayeer Sind surrounded by a series of colourful holos. He muttered to himself as he looked from one to the other, totally absorbed in the reeling figures and schematics. All around, view screens dominated the walls, showing the tiers of ships surrounding them in the dock. Echoes of the smaller displays scrolled across the view, superimposed on the images of the outside world. Timon strode over to the central couch and glanced at the displays before clearing his throat. Sind's gaze flickered up briefly then returned to the figures flowing past him. Timon cleared his throat again, then shook his head.

  "Jay, my friend, we have us a visitor. Could you drag your attention away from your infernal readings for a moment or two?"

  Sind's gaze flicked back up to Pellis's face then over his shoulder to Mahra, a frown etched above his thick lenses. He gave a humph of acknowledgement before turning back to stare at the flickering holos.

  "Is that it? Surely you can muster a little more civility than that, my friend," Pellis said.

  "Look Timon, some of us have work to do," muttered Sind. "If you can leave me in peace, I can get this done and that will be an end to it. If, however, you choose to keep on interrupting, it will never get finished. I will talk to you when I'm through here."

  "Uh-huh," Pe
llis answered with a resigned tone. "Come on, Mahra. Let's leave him to it. He's hopeless when he's in this frame of mind. Come and I'll make you that kahveh."

  Sind ignored them as they made their way from the flight deck and the door hissed to a seal behind them.

  "You'll have to forgive him, Mahra. He's a bit precious about his beloved systems. We've just had a refit of sorts and he wanted to be sure everything was functioning to his satisfaction. He never trusts a dock crew — ever. Not that I blame him. So, let's go and see what we can do about that kahveh."

  He led her from the lock, down and along to the galley and rec room.

  Mahra was beginning to feel more and more at ease with Pellis. She appreciated his easy-going attitude and attendant wit. Perhaps, she thought, the casual demeanour could begin to grate after a while, but to be fair, she had only really seen one aspect of the man. If the circumstances had been any different, she might be tempted. He was attractive in an odd sort of way, but in the current circumstances, she had to put that thought to one side.

  The ship was fitted to a comfort level that would make this sign-on more than tolerable. If things didn't work out, she'd at least end up with a few creds to spare and she'd have earned them without too much effort or discomfort. She was a bit concerned about the potential for trouble between Pellis and herself though. The incident in the lock was enough to set alarm bells ringing, albeit small ones, and she really didn't want to find herself in the enclosed space of a ship this size with any potential for awkward circumstances. She simply didn't want to complicate things. She'd just have to be careful and see how it worked out.

  Chutzpah's tension didn't do much to allay that feeling of caution. He always radiated his moods and sometimes it was a little difficult to distinguish between what were natural feelings within herself, and those that arose from her empathy with Chutzpah. Perhaps it wasn't always so much of an advantage being so close to him.

  Pellis busied himself making the promised kahveh as she seated herself and let her gaze wander across the comfortable facilities. Chutzpah clambered down from her shoulder and skittered off to explore on his own. She wasn't concerned about his little foray. He wouldn't stray too far, and he was clever enough not to get himself into trouble, especially on board ship.

  Pellis completed his preparations and placed a steaming mug in front of her, before sitting opposite, hands cupped around his kahveh. He blew on the contents before taking a tentative sip. Mahra lifted her own and took a swallow herself, nearly gagging as the acrid brew struck her palate. It was a few moments before her coughing subsided enough to allow her to speak.

  "Fire, but that's strong!"

  "Aye, sorry, perhaps I should have given you warning." Pellis grinned over the rim of his mug. "We like things with a bit of taste aboard the old Falcon."

  "Well, I guess I'll get used to it."

  There was an awkward silence as they each sipped at their drinks. The taste was not so bad once she became accustomed to it and anyway, as she had said, she'd probably get used to it.

  "So, tell me, Timon, how long have you had The Dark Falcon?"

  "Hmm, I suppose it would be nigh on a ten year now. She is the same ship I started with, and she's had a few modifications since I, um, acquired her. Seen a few scrapes too, she has. Still, long enough," he replied, his eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance. "We've seen us a few sights in our time."

  "Well from what I've seen, she is a fine ship, Mezzer Pellis."

  "That she is." He smiled with obvious pleasure.

  "So how did you get into this game?" she asked, genuinely interested, and hoping to flesh out the picture of the man.

  "Ah now, that's a bit of a long story. You see originally — when I was growing up — "

  He was interrupted by a cough from the doorway. Mahra turned just in time to see a frowning Sind looking sternly in Pellis's direction, shaking his head. Pellis merely shrugged, but the intrusion seemed to have had the desired effect.

  Sind passed a hand across his forehead, shook his head again and walked past the table to pour himself a mug of freshly brewed kahveh. In passing, he shot a glance through narrowed eyes at Pellis, who lowered his own gaze and started examining the backs of his hands where they lay on the smooth table surface. She didn't know whether Sind thought she was stupid or whether he just didn't care that she saw his signals.

  Sind poured himself a mug and carried it over before plumping himself down on the chair between the two of them.

  Peering through his thick lenses, he gave Mahra an appraising looked that started at the top of her head and worked its way slowly down her neck and arms, to her hands cupping her own mug in front of her. She matched the stare and managed to force herself to smile in response. No use in getting off on the wrong foot, if it wasn't already too late. Sind snorted quietly to himself, pushed the lenses up his nose, and turned to Pellis.

  "They seem to have got it right this time, would you believe? Small wonders will never cease. Haven't checked the pod yet. No doubt there's bound to be something there."

  "Hmm. There's quite a share of new kit there. It would pay to give it a thorough going over," Pellis replied thoughtfully.

  "As if I was not going to," Sind snapped back.

  "Now, did I suggest that you wouldn't?" Pellis smiled at him, Sind's testiness rolling past him as if it didn't exist. "And there you go again, ignoring the virtues of cultured intercourse, my friend. Shouldn't you be welcoming our new companion aboard?" The smile never left his face.

  Sind glanced in Mahra's direction, snorted, and turned his attention back to his kahveh.

  "Mezzer Sind," Mahra said, deciding she had to be the one to initiate interaction with the surly little man, "I'd be interested to see the battle pod's workings, if you're going there to do some tests. It wouldn't hurt to start becoming familiar with its operations. So, if you don't mind if I accompany you when you go — "

  "Look ... Mez Kaitan ... " he said, then moderated his tone to one of mere condescension. "You're here on trial only. And I might add, against my better judgement. No one will be going anywhere near that pod until it has been fully checked. I do not want anyone, and that includes you, blowing a hole in the docks because they don't know what they're doing. You, for one, will not set foot near it until I say so. And the same applies to anything on the flight deck. Understood?"

  Mahra swallowed. She obviously had some work to do.

  At that moment, Chutzpah, who had become bored with his explorations for the time being, chose to make his return and leapt up on to the table right in front of Sind. Sind flinched backward with a start, upsetting his steaming kahveh in the process. The scalding liquid slopped over the table edge and right into his lap. He leapt up with a cry of pain, his hands patting furiously at his coverall legs. Chutzpah, startled by his sudden action and the noise of his cry, immediately leapt into attack mode, and, tail bristling, jumped straight for the small man, spitting, and hissing.

  "No Chutz!" cried Mahra, realising what was about to happen.

  Sind gave a shriek of horror as he looked up to see the furry projectile contact his chest, giving him a closeup of sharp-toothed, spitting malevolence. Chutzpah, reined in by Mahra's command just in time, bounced off Sind's chest, and in one hop jumped from the table to Mahra's shoulder, curled his tail about her neck and sat peering around the edge of her face, fur still bristling.

  "Fire!" yelled Sind. "And keep that damned creature away from me as well." He spat the words at her, turned and stormed from the room.

  Pellis, who had been sitting wide-eyed biting his lip, exploded in laughter. Chutzpah merely sat on Mahra's shoulder as if nothing had happened, shaking one paw to rid it of the spilled kahveh, then proceeded to lick it clean. It was some time before Pellis regained his composure, and wiping a tear from his eye, could speak again.

  "Oh, poor Jayeer. He seemed a little upset."

  "Oh, Fire!" said Mahra. "I hope he had — "

  Pellis shook his head and sm
oothed his moustache, still chuckling.

  "Don't you worry about Jayeer. He isn't what you'd call the cheeriest of fellows at the best of times. That was not what I'd refer to as the best of starts though." He chuckled again. "Oh, the look on his face! Look, he's not the happiest of fellows, but he's good. Damned good he is. You'll just have to tread a little carefully over the next few days. He'll come around. If you're good at what you do, he'll respect you for it. That's all you need to know…."

  His voice trailed off. He was obviously thinking about something. "Anyway, I have a few things to attend to myself. You remember where your quarters are? Right. I'll leave you and your little grey friend there to get yourselves settled in. I'll look in on you a little later to see how you're getting on. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can't smooth things over with Jayeer."

  He drained the last of his mug, and with one last chuckle, headed for the door.

  "Again, welcome aboard, Mahra Kaitan," he said, as he paused in the doorway, then stepped out into the corridor.

  Chapter Five

  The Cradle

  Mahra stood, hands on hips, legs slightly apart, staring across the rolling foothills to where the peaks, ice-toothed, clawed at the pale sky. Her breath fogged in the chill afternoon air and her eyes stung with the wind. She told herself that it was the wind that brought the tears close to spilling over. She knew it was the Old One's time. She knew it, and yet she had promised herself she would not weep. Strength was important as she'd been taught, and she would not show weakness. Not now. Especially not now.

  She looked across to the large, bronze coloured bowl set into the pale-grassed hillside. Within it, burning steadily, the Flame of Life. The rising heat distorted the jagged symmetry of the mountains behind. She could smell the fragrant flames, even from here, touched with the hint of herbs, and something else, something sharper.

  Fourteen years. Fourteen revolutions of the world about the sun and this was her first time — her first experience of a passing. She wished it was someone more removed so she might at least be able to distance herself. She took several slow, deep breaths and tried to compose herself, to hold off the threatening tears. If they came, she knew she would not be able to stop them. She would have to go and see him soon and she had to be ready. She mustn't let him see. To go and sit with him. To talk for the final time. To feel the frailness of his palm against her brow. Carefully, she evened the pace of her breathing and sought the still place within her. After a moment, she felt the relaxation seep into her body and her mind. Now. Now, she was ready.