The Jump Point

by Anthony James

  "Welcome back, Mahra. How are you feeling?" It was Pellis's voice, but try as she might she still couldn't bring his image into focus.

  "How long have I been out?" she mumbled still trying to clear her head.

  "About a day and a half," Sind replied, the concern evident in his voice.

  "That long ... Fire! ... What happened?"

  It was Pellis who responded this time. "We're not really sure. You took that knife in the leg, you were getting up again, and then, well, you just went down. It didn’t look like anybody touched you."

  She tried desperately to clear some of the fog and shook her head. That turned out to be a bad move. The images of everything in front of her distorted vision spiralled off in all directions. She closed her eyes. Painstakingly, she tried to reconstruct the events of that evening in the bar. She seemed to recall everything right up to the point where she lost consciousness, so what was she missing?

  A strange hollowness nestled beneath her thoughts as if there was something gone from inside her. She had felt that feeling before and it was something she had not felt for many years, so she struggled to recognise it. Then, with a start, she realised what it was and that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

  "Where's Chutz?" she asked, her alarm growing.

  The other two looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity before they turned back to look at her. Sympathy was evident on their faces. Finally, Timon spoke.

  "You don't know then, Mahra?" he asked gently.

  Mahra felt panic well within her. "Where is he? Is he all right?"

  "No Mahra, I'm afraid he's not."

  "What do you mean? Where is he? Timon? Jayeer?"

  "I'm afraid he is pretty badly off, Mahra," Timon answered gently. "Took a sliver to the head. One that was meant for you, I'm sure. It just glanced off him but it seems he cracked his skull on the bar coming down. I'm not sure what happened, but you went down at the same time, almost as if you took it rather than him."

  Mahra couldn't believe what she was hearing. She frowned. "So where is he, Timon? Where is he now?"

  She started to push herself up from the bunk but fell back again, bells of pain tolling in her head. She had to see him, to know that he was all right. Somehow, inside her, she knew that what Timon was telling her was true. There was no other explanation for that sense of hollowness inside her. So much time had passed since she had felt anything like it, but it was the same sort of feeling, though different. She had known her link with Chutz was strong, but to leave her like this .... The fear and concern welled up to fill that empty space. Chutz was a part of her and if he was hurt, so was she. It didn't feel right not having him near. She started to cry despite herself.

  It was much later before she felt composed and well enough to join both in the rec area. The occasional lurch still ran through her chest in waves, but mostly she was in control. She took the time to splash water over her tear-stained face before stumbling out into the corridor. Her leg was hurting again. It throbbed in time to her pulse. Something was still not quite right about her perceptions. Everything she looked at lanced backward into infinity, trailing afterimages if she moved her head too suddenly. It was as if the edges of solid objects wavered and rippled in the periphery of her vision. It was as if she had lost her ability to see and interpret things properly. Was Chutzpah so much of what she experienced?

  Once or twice she made the mistake of shaking her head, but it only made matters worse. She might have cracked her head when she went down, but it didn't feel sore. There was just the pounding that went on and on.

  Underneath it all lay the great hollow of Chutzpah's absence. Her chest heaved with the thought as she felt her way along the corridor wall.

  She heard the low murmur of their voices as she neared the rec area but couldn't make out what they were talking about. As she eased her way through the doorway, supporting herself on the frame, the conversation ceased and both turn concerned faces in her direction. Pellis cleared his throat before asking how she felt.

  "As well as can be expected I suppose," she replied. She sighed heavily. "So, where is he? You still haven't told me."

  "Not far from here, Mahra. He's in good hands," said Pellis reassuringly. "The prognosis is reasonable, but he won't be out of trouble for some time yet. He can't be moved for a while. It may be up to a week or more before he regains consciousness."

  "I've got to see him, Timon."

  Pellis looked down at the table and started tracing patterns on its surface with his finger while chewing at his moustache. He seemed to be at a loss for words. It was Jayeer who spoke next.

  "Do you feel well enough to travel?" It was as if he had totally ignored the previous exchange.

  "Yes, I think so," she responded hesitantly. "But I can't leave before I've seen Chutz. I have to know that he's going to be all right."

  "Listen, Mahra, that's all well and good, but in the current circumstances I think you ought to think about what you're asking. We've undertaken to do something and already we've been delayed by over a day. We need to be out of here and away. You know that. Taking the time out to see that animal of yours would only delay us more. We need to leave and we need to leave pretty damned soon."

  Timon interrupted him before he could continue further. "Are you absolutely sure you're fit to travel, Mahra? We can't travel unless you're up to it. We've agreed on that much, but at the same time, you have to understand that Jayeer is right. Going to see the zimonette wouldn't achieve anything now. He's being looked after, rest assured."

  "So, Mahra," Jayeer interrupts again. "It's up to you. Do we leave?"

  Timon looked sideways at her from his position at the table. Jayeer had put the onus on her. She understood the implications of that expectation and she also understood that there was a lot more at stake here than her own personal trauma. It might help her to came to terms with things if she got involved. Though she felt torn, and desperately worried about the affect it was having on her, what they were saying made sense.

  She bit her lip. "Yes, yes, I'm sure," she answered after wrestling with the options for a few moments more. She had to be able to deal with this herself. She had to be able to bring these sensations under control. "Just bear with me for a little while longer. I'll be okay. I just need to come to terms with it."

  "Good. If you're sure?" Jayeer said with the hint of a question in his voice. He looked at her steadily.

  "Yeah. I'm sure."

  Mahra moved over to the bench to make herself a mug of kahveh before joining them at the table. She was conscious of both sets of eyes following her and with an effort she tried to suppress the slight limp. She hoped the hot kahveh would do something to clear the strangeness she felt in her head. Her vision was still not quite right, and something seemed to be interposing itself on her thought processes. she had no idea that Chutzpah's absence could affect her so much. She had never really realised before how strong their link had to be.

  Cupping the mug between her hands, she took her place between the two of them. Jayeer looked at her for a moment or two after she was settled and then became all business-like.

  "The repairs on the ship are virtually done. They'll be finished later this afternoon. The consignment of artwork is all aboard. The items were delivered yesterday when you were out of it. So, I believe we'll be ready to make our departure this night."

  Mahra nodded her understanding. Pellis continued to cast sidelong glances at her.

  "I've plotted a route that will take us a little longer but it should provide some extra cover," Jayeer continued. "We've logged flight plans as if heading toward Xanthe, but about two hours out, we'll made a sharp detour to take us to our real destination. Timon's feeling was that we should take the opportunity to spend a few days on Kalany after our business is complete. It'll provide us with the chance to get some recuperative relaxation and also keep our heads down for a couple of weeks. Personally, I believe it's a good idea."

  "Hm-hm," Mahra responded
, only really half concentrating on what Jayeer was telling her. Her mind was filled with images of her missing companion.

  "Now, because of recent events, we will need to be especially vigilant on our voyage out. That will require full attention from you, Mahra. Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "Yes, I told you I'll be fine," she snapped, and frowned. "I'm sorry, Jayeer. Bear with me."

  "That's okay," he said. "I understand. All right then. I suggest you use the rest of the time before this evening, relaxing and getting yourself up to form. Timon and I have some minor checks and preparations yet, but after that we should be ready to leave."

  Jayeer pushed back his chair and made his way out to attend to things on the bridge. Timon also stood but waited until Sind was well up the corridor before speaking.

  "Listen, Mahra, I'm truly sorry about what happened. I don't know what else to say to you. But I'm certain that he'll be fine. We'll be away for a couple of weeks, and after that, I'm sure he'll be as good as new."

  "Thanks, Timon." She was grateful for the sympathetic words.

  Timon stayed a moment or two longer, watching her, then also left for the flight deck, pausing at the door to give her one last look. Mahra sat where she was, hands cupped around her mug and head slightly bowed. Neither of her crewmates was there to see the tear that rolled slowly down her cheek. And she made sure that there was no trace of it when she got up and left the rec room.

  The remainder of the day passed uneventfully. Final preparations and the routines of pre-flight checks were all that occupied them. Mahra was slowly coming to terms with her anxiety about Chutzpah's health, but was still struck from time to time with waves of sadness. The hollowness within her continued unabated. She was concerned by the lack of improvement in her vision, but said nothing to the other two, not wanting to worry them any further with her troubles. Every now and again the episodes were almost hallucinatory.

  As far as she could tell, the only plausible explanation for the continued problem was her body's attempt to came to terms with the loss of her link with Chutzpah. They were probably side effects of her mind trying desperately to readjust to working on its own again. In a way, it was very like the reaction she had felt when she first lost the Old One, but different somehow. But then again, their link had been different too.

  The ship took off as planned without incident. Mahra found herself in her normal position, strapped into the couch in the battle pod, listening to the ongoing by-play between Sind and Pellis. It just didn't seem to be the same without her small companion perched upon her shoulder.

  Her vision seemed to get worse as they left the atmosphere of New Helvetica. Various geometric patterns picked out in assorted colours superimposed themselves on the vista surrounding her. They trailed off from the light sources represented by the surrounding stars and ships, confusing what she saw. This affliction was starting to become a concern. There was no way she could effectively act as a gunner if she couldn't see what she was supposed to hit.

  "Come on, Mahra, hold it together," she said to herself as the images spread. "You're no use to anyone like this. Focus. Find sharpness."

  She was talking to herself now in a way in that she'd have conversed with Chutzpah. Her muttered comments brought a response from Pellis over the com, but she brushed off his query.

  After a couple of hours, the ship performed the planned diversion, Pellis having judged that they were far enough out from New Helvetian space not to attract attention. With their course locked in, he asked her if she was going to join them in the rec, but she declined, telling him that she wanted to be alone for a while. Her excuse was not too far from the truth. What she really wanted to do was regain some sort of control over her senses.

  Three more hours she spent in the pod, tracking the images, and trying to make some sense out of them. If nothing else, she was becoming used to them. Eventually, she felt she had enough control to risk joining the others, and she unstrapped herself and clambered down toward the rec to find them. If she ignored the traceries in her sight rather than concentrating on them, it seemed to be slightly better.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ten days later, with the aid of some of the waygates, The Dark Falcon drew in to Kalany space. With ten days of practice Mahra had become reasonably immune to the distractions, but it concerned her, as they still seemed to be there. As they neared orbital velocity, they strapped themselves into their respective positions fully at the alert. They had another six hours at least to wait before the expected rendezvous, but as far as Pellis was concerned it didn't hurt to be at the ready.

  They had been sitting in orbit a little over two hours when Mahra's sight went crazy. The Dark Falcon suddenly seemed to be the focus of several distinct radiating cones. They were not there and yet they were at the same time. Concentric rings ran down their length toward the ship. Because of her perspective within the pod, she became the direct focus of that movement — as if the universe itself was aiming directly at her. Involuntarily she cried out.

  "Mahra, what was it?" came Pellis's concerned voice over the com.

  "I, uh, Timon I don't know," she said, trying desperately to maintain her grip on reality. Something seemed to be happening in the space around the ship and she couldn't tell whether it was outside the ship or in her head.

  The edges of the surrounding blackness shimmered and slowly began to form other, more solid shapes. It seemed like large bulges were pushing outward from the fabric of the blackness itself. As five large, silver globes formed in the space around her she dismissed them as further hallucinations. Each globe slotted in to one of the cones that radiated from her position, effectively blocking her sight of the pulsing rings that flowed down their length. She was on the verge of panic now. Her mind was failing her. She had virtually convinced herself that she had lost her sanity when she heard Timon's voice over the com once more.

  "What the hell are ... Fire! ... Sirona ships. Five of the buggers. Jay old friend, I think we are seriously in it. Mahra, I think you'd better get down here. Don't, I repeat don't fire on them. Just get down here."

  Working away under the haze of her confusion, an idea was beginning to take shape. She wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but it was there nonetheless, and she reached for her harness and clambered out of her restraints. The visionary images had faded. All she saw now were the huge, featureless silver ovoids that surrounded them. The magnitude of their size dwarfed The Dark Falcon.

  So, these were Sirona ships.

  Suddenly, she remembered where she'd seen those shapes before and her insides went cold. It was many years ago and it was on a world called The Cradle on the day when she was to take her place amongst the elders of her race. With the dawning of that understanding, with the replay of those memories in her mind, the years of indignity came flooding back to her.

  She gripped the edge of the couch and swallowed. Lancing beams of light struck down from the sky and a vast dome exploded into shards. She ran through undergrowth her heart pounding in her chest. She crept backward on a bunk, pressing herself against a wall. She saw the Old One's face and Aleyin's. No! They would not have her a second time.

  Gradually she managed to regain some control, and though her breathing still came quickly, she made some sense out of her thoughts. She realised in that instant that she herself had more than a personal stake in the outcome of the CoCee plans. The Sirona! They were the ones responsible! No, Pellis was right. She must not fire. Her teeth were firmly clenched as she clambered down from the pod and made her way forward to the flight deck.

  "Well Mahra, any ideas?" asked Pellis as she joined them up front. He looked up at her and immediately his face took on a look of concern. "Are you all right ...?"

  Mahra forced herself to remain calm and assess the situation. "Yes, Timon, I'm fine." Her voice didn't sound convincing to her own ears.

  Mahra scanned the various monitors clustered about them. The Dark Falcon was clearly boxed in and she doubted there was any rea
l chance of making a run for it.

  "No, I haven't got any ideas. I don't know, Timon. Have you?" She was finding it difficult to think properly.

  "No," he said. "I don't know either. We're not going to be able to shoot our way out of this one. The Dark Falcon's good, but not that good. That was why I thought you'd be just as useful down here."

  "Why the hell don't they do something?" muttered Jayeer, his eyes flitting from one image to the next. "They're just sitting there. Are they waiting for us to make a move or what?"

  "I'm not sure," Pellis replied, narrowing his eyes. "Perhaps they're waiting for our contact to show. We seem to have upset them a bit by our actions on Belshore. Now, one Sirona ship I might have expected, but, five, well that's a bit of overkill. They are obviously fairly intent on making sure that we don't get away." He stroked the ends of his moustache thoughtfully. He glanced up again at Mahra, but she avoided his gaze.

  Pieces of a pattern were tumbling into place inside her head. The Old One had taught her patterns, had taught her ways to make sense out of senseless things. He had shown her what fitted and what didn't and it all was starting to come rushing back. She had to reach the pattern and find it — find the way everything fit together. She looked at the vast silver ovoids hanging in the monitors around them and she suddenly became more certain.

  "Listen, Timon, Jayeer, I've got an idea. I've just had the answer to a question that's been bothering me for a very long time." They looked up at her, Jayeer with a frown, and Timon still looking concerned. "I'll explain it later, if there is a later. We don't have time to go into it now," Mahra said in answer to their questioning glances. "Look, I'll tell you one thing," she said, suddenly feeling anger start to burn through the fear that pounded through her. "If we can do anything to put a nail in the coffin of those bastards out there, then I'm for doing it. Jayeer, you were telling me earlier about this experimental drive."