Wordlessly, Khevan took Twilka by the elbow and led her down the stairs, sitting with her on the bottom step facing outward into the casino, blaster lying across his knees, ready if needed. Partially closing the door, Khevan settled in to keep watch, hidden from the view of anyone crossing through the adjacent part of the casino.
Mara wrapped her arms around Nick, holding him tightly, fiercely, as if she could somehow protect him from his own memories. Tensing at her touch, he relaxed into the embrace for a moment.
“It’s all right, you don’t have to go there,” Mara whispered, reaching one hand up to smooth a strand of his longer than regulation black hair off his forehead. “You don’t have to say anymore. I’m glad the Mellureans were there for you, at the orphanage.” She watched the silent tableau of Damais and the children, locked in the ebb and flow of their private communication. “I’m glad she’s willing to help the kids tonight.”
“I’m fine.” Done with this visit to his own distant past, and more than somewhat embarrassed by it, Nick gave her a quick hug of reassurance and then stepped away. “I need to set up the fastlink booster.”
“The fastlink won’t disturb what Damais is doing?” Mara asked.
“Not as long as we’re quiet, and as long as we don’t set it up on the damn bench with her, no.” Nick deliberately made his voice impatient, business-like.
He knew he didn’t fool Mara for a second, but rather than say anymore, she walked away to summon Khevan.
Unfastening his bag, Nick reached inside, carefully pulling out the small black box he had been so anxious to find in the chaos of the hold. He walked the length of the observatory, trying to figure out where the best spot was. Finally deciding on the exact center, Nick prepared to carry out his attempt at communication.
Kneeling, he set the box on the deck. As soon as he locked its small grav clamps in place to secure it, a cone shape morphed silently up from the center of the black square. Nick discovered he had an interested audience. Even the Lady Damais and the children were staring at him now, although he had taken great pains not to infringe upon their concentration. Damais must have finished whatever therapy she could, or would, offer the children tonight.
Compelled to say something, since they were all apparently transfixed by what he was doing, Nick cleared his throat. “Okay, in just a minute I’ll activate this and hook myself in. I gotta tell you, using fastlink with a field generator screws a guy’s nervous system up pretty badly.”
“Then don’t use it,” Mara voiced her anxiety, eyes narrowed, lips compressed in a thin line. “We’ll find another way.”
Nick shook his head. “There is no other way. Not even the Lady Damais, with all her powers, can broadcast a specific evac call across the Sectors. Am I right?”
Their heads swiveled to her. Her face serene as always, the elderly woman nodded. “You’re right, Nicholas. Even my people have our limits. I could perhaps share a sense of my own danger, of imminent peril, but nothing to solve our problem here. By the time they investigated enough to determine where I was, it would be far too late.”
Eyes wide, Twilka was staring at Lady Damais, mouth in an O of astonishment. “You weren’t with us on the bridge. How do you know how much trouble we’re in?”
Damais smiled slightly. “Obviously we’re in extraordinary difficulties, child. The crew is nowhere in evidence, has not been seen or heard from for hours now. The ship lies dead in space; not where anyone would expect to be found, is it?” She raised an eyebrow at Nick, who nodded confirmation, not the least bit surprised Damais knew as well as he did they were in Sector Seventeen. “Enemy territory, is it not?” She waved one translucent, blue-veined hand at the display of the actual stars beyond the observatory’s canopy. “No illusion of mine can disguise that fact.”
Biting her lip, Mara was walking around the fastlink generator, frowning. It wasn’t an overly impressive device.
“This isn’t going to fry my system permanently,” Nick said.
“What can I do to help?” Mara said, rubbing her hands on her hips as if getting ready for action. “There must be something?”
“Stay alert. I’ll have to sleep for an hour or two after I do this – recharge my brain synapses. I’m sorry.” What am I asking her forgiveness for? Giving her cause to worry about me? She’s gotten under my skin as no woman ever did before, but I like it. “It’s a hell of a lot easier to do this ship-enabled, but a civilian vessel like the Dream doesn’t have anything close to the right support equipment.” Since he could see Mara was puzzled by his remark, forehead wrinkled in thought as she stared from him to the box, Nick elaborated. “Some of the big military ships are equipped to facilitate fastlink, in case an SF operator has to make a report on an expedited basis.”
“Do whatever you have to do,” Mara answered quietly. “You don’t have to explain to me. I take your word for it – this is routine for you.” She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I’m hardly in a position to argue about it, am I? So I’ll keep watch.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not sure how much time we actually have,” Khevan said from his post at the bottom of the stairs, urging Nick to make haste.
Like all SF operators in the reluctant elite – men and women enhanced with the fastlink implants and other neurotech upgrades – he had a love-hate relationship with the technology. It could save a team in a crisis but was incredibly draining for the operator. Sometimes, Nick wondered if Command had deliberately designed the thing to be hard to use so a person could only rely upon the technology sparingly. If there had been any other way to call in an evac, Nick would have taken it in a heartbeat, rather than subject his body to fastlink. Scuttlebutt in the ranks was that each use shortened the operator’s life by a Terran year. Nick didn’t know what the truth was, but it sure as hell took a physical toll on a man. I can testify to that much.
Sitting cross-legged on the cold deck, Nick took his place beside the box, tapping a code across a series of barely visible inlaid controls.
“Specific evac codes are changed all the time, to avoid the enemy luring anyone into an ambush. But I’m hoping my code from last mission, plus the message I’ll send, will give credibility to the whole thing. Get us rescued.” What is it with me today, talking too much.
Mara nodded, watching him get the equipment set up. “Whoever gets this call is probably going to have a hard time believing it, given the Nebula Dream’s reputation and all the SMT publicity.”
“And the fact it emanates from Sector Seventeen will further detract from its authenticity,” Khevan predicted in a dry tone from his perch over on the stairs. “Well, I would be skeptical, were I on the receiving end of this call you are to make, Captain. We must not expect too much.”
“What is it with all of you?” Flinging her arms wide, Twilka stamped her foot on the deck. “Is it so impossible for you – any of you – to think of the positive side?” She pointed at Nick. “I believe in you, soldier.”
“Here goes.” Nick punched in one final command, taking an extra second before hitting the last key, like hesitating before a dive into cold deep water.
A low-pitched hum reverberated in the chamber, as if a hive of giant insects had invaded the observatory. The children rubbed at their ears in annoyance. Gianna whimpered and Lady Damais reached to comfort her with a hug. The sound filled the chamber, made it hard to concentrate.
Pulsing from the cone-shaped top of the device was a barely discernible violet glow. The beam ascended in a tight line through the clear shielding covering the observatory, streaming into the interstellar void, hardly diffusing as it sought a receptor.
“All right.” Feeling intense relief, Nick licked his dry lips. He’d been unsure whether the beam would be strong enough to escape the shielding, one major technical hurdle he couldn’t have done anything to resolve. Fastlink was designed to function from the surface of a planet, in the open atmosphere. It was nothing short of miraculous to Nick to be able to send the call from i
nside the confines of the ship. Maybe the Lords of Space were going to favor them after all. No harm in sending them a short plea – Watch my back? – in case they were paying attention. He told his companions, “Now for the hard part – sending a specific message.”
“Will anyone be listening?” Mara cocked her head, unsmiling. “The idea of your attempting this without knowing if you’ll succeed bothers me, for your sake.”
“Always some military sensors directed at Sector Seventeen, gathering intelligence. This’ll get picked up, never fear. But we can’t wait for an AI to cycle through its full range of assigned data gathering before passing the signal along.” Nick laughed, despite the ball of nausea in his gut. “Unless some other poor fool is currently running a mission inside Seventeen, no one’ll be searching for fastlink emissions. So, I have to send a detailed distress call, try to target it to the nearest ship.”
Quickly, before he could lose his nerve, Nick flipped open a narrow compartment on the instrument’s bottom level and took out a small, flat, black disk. This he pressed to his skull behind the left ear. Flaring out, the violet glow enclosed him.
Nick was vaguely aware of events in the observatory, as if seeing them through the wrong end of a telescope. Lady Damais left the children alone on their bench, walking to where he sat, obviously preparing to step inside the circle of violet light.
“Should you disturb him?” Mara asked. “He was so emphatic about not being interrupted once the fastlink had begun.”
Damais smiled serenely. “It does you credit, to be so concerned for him.” Her voice carried a hint of condescension. “But I can help with this, perhaps shorten the time he must spend linked, which will reduce the hours we must sit and wait, both for him to recover, and for rescue to come. The time left to us grows precious indeed, child.”
Mara probably didn’t appreciate being addressed as child. Nick grinned slightly.
Damais limped forward slowly, entering the violently blazing light. The illumination enveloped her gradually, like a physical entity, as if she were wading out into a deepening pool. Stretching out her left hand toward Nick’s own hand, which was frozen, claw-like, holding the fastlink locked to his skull, she made contact. Her right hand clutched at her cane with an unbreakable grip. Gently, delicately, Damais rested her fingers on top of Nick’s hand. Shuddering violently at her touch, which sent hot arcs of electricity coursing along his nerve endings, he closed his eyes for a second.
When he reopened them, the purple beam of light purified, became more vivid, pulsed with red lightning fires. It sparkled, as if motes of pure diamond were now floating upward from the deck of the doomed Nebula Dream to be carried out to the stars on a ribbon of purple velvet. The humming rose and intensified until it filled the head, making conscious thought difficult.
Peripherally, Nick was aware of Mara staggering away from the fastlink box, hands clamped to her ears against the grating sound, until the bench hit her in the backs of the knees and she sank down, hiding her face in her hands.
The violet beam swept rapidly from right to left across the stars before abruptly winking out. The sound stopped at the same moment, although Nick’s ears were still ringing.
Leaving the bench, Mara dashed forward, Paolo at her side, both eager to help. Lady Damais crumpled in a faint. Mara was barely in time to catch the fragile, elderly woman as she collapsed in a heap, cane clattering on the floor. Unable to stop himself, Nick toppled over in slow motion. Paolo broke his fall, making it a less violent connection with the hard deck, but still bruising. Falling from Nick’s nerveless hand, the fastlink control skittered away, sliding across the deck, fetching up under the bench.
“Gianna, can you retrieve the missing piece of the captain’s device for me, please?” Mara asked over her shoulder, as she half-carried Damais to the nearest bench and helped her sit. Vaguely, Nick heard Mara quizzing the elderly woman. “Are you all right? Your pulse is fast. Can you breathe properly?”
“I’m fine but worn out. This fastlink is an abominably harsh, artificial thing.” The Lady’s disgust rang through her voice, weak as it was. “Captain Jameson was right to be so reluctant to use it, although we had no choice. Go, see to him now. I’ll take care of myself.” Damais put both hands to her forehead, massaging the bones above her eye sockets as if she had a raging migraine. She waved Mara away firmly, giving her a small, impatient push, and reverted to rubbing her head irritably.
Walking to him, Mara sank to her knees on the deck beside Nick, who was trying to hang onto the shreds of consciousness against the pain in his head.
“Is there something you need? Anything we can do?” She helped him sit up, braced him against her shoulder.
“Is he all right?” Khevan called from the stairway, clearly torn between wanting to help and the need to remain on guard duty.
“I don’t know.” Mara rubbed Nick’s arm. “We need a medic, damn it. Or a medkit, at the least. We should have searched for one on the way in. I wish he hadn’t downplayed how hard this would be on him, been more specific about what he needed, stubborn man! If I’d had any idea what this fastlink was like, what it would do to him –”
“Damn fastlink. I’m getting too old for this.” Nick’s thick tongue made his words slur. “An adrenephix inject would help.” He felt disoriented, more than half thinking he was on a mission. “This is a bad one, hard to come down from.”
Mara hugged him. “Rest for a minute. Don’t try to get up yet.” Her voice quavered slightly.
I must look as bad as I feel. Nick tried to sit up on his own, but his muscles weren’t working yet. He felt weak as a kitten. “Okay, I got it now,” he said to Mara, enunciating clearly. “Not on some alien planet with my team, am I?”
Smiling ruefully, she shook her head once. “No, you’re stranded on a crippled space liner with a bunch of scared civilians.”
More worried about Lady Damais than himself, now he was snapped into the reality of the situation, Nick reached out a hand in her direction. “Madame, are you –?”
“I’m fine, don’t distress yourself,” she said from where she lay on the bench, curling up, careless of the potential damage to her layers of fine silk and lace. As if even the faint light was painful, Damais kept one hand over her eyes. “Such devices are not meant for use by my people.”
“But it definitely helped, having you in the loop,” Nick reassured her gratefully. “I was having trouble making specific contact, until you came online with me. I could capture the beacons, but I couldn’t get into the actual interstellar chatter –”
“Did you talk to a ship, then?” Mara asked.
“Yeah, yeah, two of them,” Nick responded, a bit distractedly. “Odd.”
“What?” Mara was ready for anything.
“Well, one was a destroyer assigned to a carrier group. She’s cruising along a few light years behind where we were, or where we’re supposed to be, if we were still in Sixteen,” Nick estimated. “Her captain’ll be getting the report about now from the com room, which should generate some excitement.” He smiled wryly. “Not your ordinary event, that’s for sure.”
“Yes, I would imagine they’re experiencing the healthy skepticism we were discussing earlier,” Khevan said.
“It’ll take them some time to verify who I am, find me listed as a passenger on the Nebula Dream, but I think they’ll change course and head this way while they’re doing the verification. I hope so.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He wished the headache would dial down. Hard to concentrate, burns like someone stuck an electric prod into my skull behind the left ear. Gingerly, he touched the spot with his fingertips. “Last I heard, Admiral Reston was in charge of the battle group. He’s a hard-charging, no-nonsense, tough guy. He’ll come into Seventeen after us and be damned to the consequences.”
Nick shut his eyes and swallowed with difficulty. “Throat’s dry. Like the hide of a Majumdan sandscraper lizard. Don’t suppose there’s a water dispenser on this deck?”
>
“No water, no medkit, nothing,” Mara said, checking the surroundings hastily. “Shall we go search the casino for some? How badly affected are you by this fastlink communication?”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it. And don’t leave the observatory,” Nick ordered emphatically. “We have to stay together.” He reached up to gently toy with a strand of her curls. “I’m tough, remember? It’ll be okay.”
“And the other ship you talked to?” Khevan prompted.
Nick frowned. “An odd thing. It was a freighter. Her captain changed course while we were talking. Said he’d park his cargo panniers at the edge of Sixteen and haul ass over here at best speed. Probably get here in twelve hours.” Nick glanced at his wrist chrono, marking the time. Breathing in her perfume, he rested his head against Mara’s shoulder for a long minute. The tangy scent helped clear his mind. “He can take us off this drifting hulk, take the LBs under tow.”
“Terrific,” Mara said. “What’s so odd about him coming to help? Aren’t all ships in the vicinity supposed to respond to a distress call?”
Gathering strength and willpower to stand up, Nick tensed his muscles. “Only military ships have capability to receive fastlink, because the technology is so highly classified. So how was I talking to the guy?”
“Oh,” Mara glanced uncertainly at Lady Damais. “Maybe because she was in the link, too?”
The Lady and Nick shook their heads at the same time. Both appeared to regret the rash gesture, grimacing in unconscious imitation of each other.
“I was only boosting the output of his own nervous system,” the Mellurean said. “I was in no way controlling or directing the device to communicate with anyone specifically. I can’t adapt my organic powers to utilize a machine.”
“So what are you saying, Nick? You don’t trust this freighter captain?” Uncurling like a cat, Mara stood up, lending Nick a hand as he slowly rose to his feet, swaying a bit.
Wreck of the Nebula Dream Page 15