Alliance Rising
Page 46
Jen came and went—she had him, no question: they’d see each other aplenty. It was those that weren’t going that needed to be seen, and she didn’t cling. She just showed up and promised Peg she’d be sure he behaved.
It was at once the noisiest and best-behaved undock party Ross himself had ever seen. Usually there was at least one noisy drunk and maybe a shoving match—but it was a happy crowd. It wasn’t that easy for the Galways, still—there was a lot of hurt and worry; but in the end, it was why Ross had said yes, he was going—because in them that were going with Finity’s End, the ship had hope. Hope of allies, hope of promises kept, hope of that refit, hope that out in the deep Beyond there were brothers and sisters in the trade that weren’t going to leave Alpha to die, and who would talk basic sense to the EC when it came, and to anybody who thought merchanters were disposable.
There was an optimism rising. There were expectations. And hopes.
A commotion arose from the doorway, welcoming shouts, not clear the reason at first, and Ross stood up to see. The silver-grey of Finity jackets showed in the press of bodies, around a man not so tall as most—JR Neihart, with Madison and Fletcher and a number Ross didn’t know. JR came in and mixed crews cheered—no question of these people buying their own drinks tonight. Ross stayed put—he still wasn’t up to shoving his way through; but then a hand slipped past his elbow and an arm hugged his.
He didn’t need to look to know.
“Damn, you’re sneaky,” he said.
“That’s my job,” Jen said. “How are you holding up?”
“I got a chair, is what, and I’m not leaving it.” He sat back down, and there was a chair next to his that had been Connor’s, but Jen sank into it.
“Good for you.”
“Still a little wobbly. But looking forward to this.” It was a test of his own commitment, saying that. It felt right—which was a comfort. “You sure you’re going to bring us back?”
“Promise,” Jen said soberly. “Really promise, on that one. We’ll get back here.”
“Exit going to be as splashy as your entry?”
“You’ll see. Captain’s going to have you shadow first shift. You’ll get a good view.”
Scary prospect, that. But he looked forward to it. Extremely. It began to be vivid to him. It began to be imaginable.
And at that moment came a second entry by that far door, an entry that caused a murmur that swept like a wave across the room, that cleared space for the cause of it.
A plump, grey-haired man in a business suit, holding hands with a grey-haired woman in conservative clothes. Both were neat, looking very out of place, and the man—a familiar face.
“That’s Director Abrezio,” Ross said quietly, in the general hush. “That’s actually Ben Abrezio.”
He watched as JR Neihart went to meet the pair, as JR took Abrezio’s offered hand, shook it, and then said to the hushed gathering, “This is Director Abrezio. His wife Callie Taylor. They’re here to wish us off—in many senses.”
General laughter, at that. The departing visitors had put a strain on Alpha. And changed it.
And about that time the schedule board and every screen in Rosie’s went bright blue, and on it in huge white letters: “Thank you, Captain James Robert Neihart.”
“JR,” Jen said under her breath, in a general buzz of spacer reactions.
“Thank you, sir,” JR said, “but I’m not that man.”
“A Captain James Robert founded this station,” Abrezio said, and the buzz went nearly silent. “The first-in knew him. There’s a plaque in ops, about the only part of this station that’s original. But we’re here because of one James Robert Neihart, and we’re here now because of another. As Alpha’s director, it’s an honor to say it, sir, you’re in that class on Alpha. Will be, as long as Alpha exists.”
“You’re stuck, Senior Captain!” a voice called out from the crowd. Madison lifted a beer mug. “Captain James Robert, and an honor to serve the ship with you, brother!”
“Man’s earned it,” Ross said, feeling goosebumps. It was centuries ago Gaia’s first captain had set Alpha here. It was something that he’d seen what he was seeing, hearing that name.
The man who carried it didn’t ask to carry it. He was a smallish man, looking at the moment as if a weight had come down on him, and he wasn’t that glad of it. But people cheered, all around. People saw what they’d been looking for without knowing they’d been looking at all.
There were burdens and there were burdens. Ross thought he’d had one, being left ashore, knowing so much was riding on Galway, and the first-shift crew that were the heroes. He’d just been left behind, and when Galway got back, he’d still be a nav trainee.
Captain James Robert had a different kind of weight settle on him, something that wasn’t going to get smaller. Even a nav trainee could see that coming. It was scary to think what Finity was up to, what they were doing, bringing changes to everything, fast as they could, a wavefront of change rolling in front of them.
Finity’s End was the future she was shaping. And he would sit shadow on her boards.
About the Authors
With more than seventy books to her credit, and the winner of three Hugo Awards, C. J. Cherryh is one of the most prolific and highly respected authors in the science fiction field, and has been named a Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master by the Science Fiction Writers of America. She lives in Washington state.
Born in Renton, Washington, Jane S. Fancher grew up raising and training horses, learning to fly a plane, playing piano, singing, drawing, and studying math, physics, astronomy, and anthropology. While working for WaRP Graphics (Elfquest), she joined a project to produce a graphic adaptation of C. J. Cherryh’s Gate of Ivrel. This endeavor led her to a new home in Oklahoma City, where she found her calling and began writing her own novels. She lives in Spokane, Washington with partner C. J. Cherryh.
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