Daedalus (Interstellar Cargo Book 2)

by Matt Verish

  “That’s one hell of a view, eh?”

  Chrys pressed her eyelids tightly shut. That arrogant, obnoxious—yet logical—voice of his that had saved and ruined her life. “Just say what you came to say.”

  Her helmet obstructed her view of him, but she could feel his magboots clicking against the steel floor behind her.

  “This has got to stop.”

  He’s right. It does. The edge never seemed closer...or so inviting. “I suppose the others can hear this little pep talk of yours?”

  “No. I blocked their comms. Though, they have every right to understand just who they’re dealing with. First, I have every intention of solving this dispute once and for all—without them. After that, no more secrets. We owe that much to the crew.”

  Chrys frowned, but did not face him. It sounded like Cole, but his leader-like approach was unlike anything she’d heard from him. Sure, she’d been the recipient of his rage, but never had she heard the soldier in him. It was a welcome and unexpected change.

  “And just how do you ‘plan on solving this dispute once and for all’?”

  Cole was quiet for a time, though she knew he had already chosen his words. She waited for what he would say, hoping he would fix the unfixable.

  “I should just shove you over the side and watch you drift away, allowing you the rest of your short, suffocating life to ponder the reasons behind my action.”

  Her eyes widened. He could easily lean forward, and with little effort, push her out into open space. It would be no less than she deserved. Perhaps that was why her feet had led her out to the precipice. She despised weakness, and these feelings of vulnerability were more than she could tolerate or understand.

  “Do it. I won’t fight you. I deserve a traitor’s death.”

  Cole sighed. Then grabbed her shoulders and started to push—

  “Gyah!” Chrys felt herself leaning forward, unable to negate his force. All she could see was her life slipping away, falling into infinity. The disgraced soldier in her was ready to accept this ending, but her humanity had her arm reach back, her hand gripping harder than it ever had.

  She finally met his icy gaze: the look of a killer.

  But the killer relented, straining to keep her from pitching into the dark. “Live or die?”

  Her other arm hung in the emptiness, her heels barely weighted on the floor’s edge. Just a twitch, and she would slip. Cole would let her go; of that she was certain.

  “Live!” She was startled by the terror in her voice. This was no child’s nightmare; this was her need to survive.

  For the first time in Chrysanthemum Emmerich’s life, she truly felt alive.

  What felt like floating, was actually Cole lifting her out of a pit of despair and placing her on stable ground. She collapsed to her knees and sobbed, gloves and helmet making her tears inaccessible. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Not anymore.

  “You betrayed us,” Cole said, his icy voice succumbing to emptiness. “But I forgive you.”

  He turned, leaving her to fully realize the enormity of what had just transpired. As he made his way back to the Icarus, she finally understood what it meant to be a part of something important—even if that something was hated by the whole of humanity.

  She belonged with this crew of outcasts, whether she liked it or not. No amount of denial could change that, and there were limits to how far trust could be pushed. She had just discovered that line and stared at the consequence in its ugly face. There would be no more chances, no matter how much she proved her worth. That was the price of true betrayal.

  She stood, seeing the world with fresh eyes. The safety net was gone, but still she was ready to sprint across the wire to the impossible.

  14

  SIGNALS

  Cole’s body had never felt so heavy or tired as it did right now. Not even the comfort of his leather flight chair could ease the aches that ran deep into his soul. No one had spoken of the event outside the ship, though he was certain Lin and Rig had witnessed his attempt to “murder” Emmerich. They let him pass, possibly out of respect, but more likely out of fear. He would address the issue with each of them later, once the ship was repaired.

  While he did not regret pulling Emmerich to safety, he did resent that she was the proud recipient of a newfound respect for life. All I got was this lousy t-shirt. A piece of himself had been left out there, forever lost to the universe.

  And not for the better.

  I wonder if this is how CAIN felt when he jumped into that android’s body. The Sentinel’s tattered body was lying lifeless by the server—the same server that now hosted his equally lifeless AI friend.

  He stood, a weak second wind urging his feet to carry his leaden body toward the others. What it was he intended, he had yet to decide. There was, however, the spark of an idea forming—a hypothesis of sorts. With Emmerich neutralized and Archytas assisting with the ship’s repairs, he could finally interrogate the peculiar AI without unexpected interruptions. At least, that was his hope.

  Too many questions begged to be asked. Just what had the AI been guarding down in the bowels of the Daedalus? And why? Where was the crew? What had happened to cause all the damage? Was it all an internal conflict, pertaining to a possible mass exodus? If so, then to where could so many members of Starforce flee in an uncharted universe?

  The ship’s power was mostly unaffected, Cole thought, and so he couldn’t fathom why people would abandon a stable refuge. The more he pondered, the brighter his idea spark grew.

  Cole found Rig in the cargo bay, staring down the ladder leading into the server room. “You drop your pen down there?”

  The mechanic didn’t lift his head. “Nope. Just keepin’ an eye out for your girlfriend.”

  Cole glanced down the tight, dark corridor and saw nothing. “Keeping an eye out as in protection, or for potential unwanted guests?”

  Rig shrugged. “Just doin’ what she asked, Nugget.”

  “Shouldn’t you be fixing something?” Cole asked, slightly perturbed.

  The mechanic pointed up at the floor above him. “Nah. Her babysitter has a bunch of repair drones puttin’ me outta work. Said we should be up and runnin’ in no time at all.”

  “Demoted to guard dog,” Cole said, patting Rig on his bulky shoulder. “Step aside, big guy. I relieve you of your duty.”

  Rig finally looked up, his expression one of indifference. “Whatever. I just work here.”

  “Used to,” Cole clarified, eliciting a small chuckle from the mechanic. He waited until Rig was gone before he started to climb onto the ladder, but Lin’s Rook hovered up to him.

  “There’s no need,” Lin said through the device. “We’re coming up.”

  “We?” Cole let go and stepped aside. Lin climbed up first, Archytas close behind. One more question added to the list.

  “I didn’t want to bother you after your ordeal,” Lin said, accepting his hand to step off the ladder. “I felt this would be an appropriate time to conduct some necessary research.”

  Cole cast the violet being a fleeting glance. He purposely turned Lin and him away from the eerie, white gaze, suddenly changing his stance on the interrogation. “I see you promoted Rig to personal bodyguard.”

  Lin blushed. “He seemed eager for something to do.”

  “He still is. Nothing worse than a mechanic with nothing to fix. Let’s hope he doesn’t toss a wrench into one of the engines to justify his place amongst the crew.”

  Lin smiled, though he could tell her thoughts were still preoccupied. Time for question number one. “So, whatcha doin’?”

  “Experimenting,” Lin said. “With Archytas at my disposal, I had hoped to make some headway with the CAIN dilemma.”

  Cole nodded, figuring that might be her answer. “To no effect, I assume?”

  Lin shook her head, her brow bunched in agitation. She began walking without warning, the directness of her path indicating she had a definite destination. Both her Rook and Archyta
s followed her, and Cole rushed to catch up.

  “Care to elaborate, Doc?” he asked, aching to demand. He knew she had a tendency to block out the world when she was focused. “My inquiring mind would like to know what sort of hijinx you’re up to, seeing as we’re currently on a layover. Perhaps forever.”

  “Would it be possible for me to give you an explanation after I’ve exhausted all avenues?” She was clearly telling.

  “Lin, c’mon,” Cole said, frustration mounting. “I’m still captain of this ship—for better or worse—and I need to know the goings on of all things at all times. How else can I plot us a proper course of action?”

  “There’s no need at the moment. You said it yourself: ‘we’re currently on a layover’.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  Lin slowed before the lift. “I do. But I need a bit more time. I’ll be of better assistance once I’m done.”

  The calm and collected scientist in her voice only aggravated him more. “Who knows what can happen in the meantime.”

  She stepped inside and faced him. “I’m sorry, Cole. Not right now.”

  Cole’s chest constricted, an unexpected fire waking inside him. He was unable to contain the flames that shot from his mouth. “Dammit, just wait a minute!” He slapped his hand inside the lift door so it could not close. He had also inadvertently blocked Archytas’s passage. “I’m in the dark here. All of us are. I understand you have your reasons for doing whatever it is you’re doing, but if we’re going to survive this, I need you to be on the level with me.”

  Lin’s impassive expression never changed. “When have I not been forthright?”

  During the coup, for one. “With me—up until now—always.”

  She blinked, crossing her arms behind her back. “And I will continue to be, but that requires a need to continue my research. Untested theories and half-fast conclusions will only prolong our plight. This is a delicate process, and it must be handled accordingly. Afterward, I promise I will be an open book.”

  All of that would have sounded well and good to Cole, but he was too flustered to accept her logic. The dragon opened its jaw before he could stop the inferno. “What are you hiding?”

  Lin’s brow raised ever so slightly. “Are you insinuating I’m keeping secrets from the crew?”

  Shut up, Cole! You dummy! He shrugged. “I don’t know, but something’s going on. The fact that you’re gallivanting about the ship with some dangerous android worries me. And that you have a personal connection with it gives me a great deal of pause.”

  She seemed hurt. “How so? You believe my motives are ulterior?”

  “No, but your actions are reckless. I already bring enough of that to the table. I can’t be worrying about you, along with Chrys. We all need to work together as a team, not carry out selfish science experiments in private that could compromise our lives.” Nice work, jackass.

  The hurt was replaced by an empty calm. It was the same expression she wore prior to the coup and the takeover of the ICV-71. “I understand you’ve been under an enormous amount of pressure, what with all that has transpired since our first meeting, I don’t begrudge your distrust. Your leadership has almost singlehandedly kept us alive, and it is commendable.”

  Cole felt the proverbial “but” to follow.

  “However, your ignorance and blatant disregard for the full scope of our situation is disconcerting. You of all people should understand that true teamwork requires the specialized work of its individuals to achieve a singular goal. In order for that to happen, a certain amount of freedom needs given to those who request it. How else can there be a solid foundation for trust?”

  Wow. I suck. Cole cleared his throat when she focused on the hand barring Archytas. He pulled it away without a word, embarrassment and a raised ire keeping him from attempting an apology. He wasn’t sure it would amend the damage he’d caused.

  Archytas entered the lift and stood next to Lin. The distance between her and Cole was no more than arm’s length, though the wedge he’d driven felt a mile thick. He watched them both in silence, his gaze locked with hers until the door finally slid closed.

  ~

  “I can’t believe you convinced my brother to stock this boat with beer.”

  Rig took a healthy swig from the cup he’d poured himself. Apparently it was his second refill since migrating up to the Bar. He burped. “I can’t believe you killed your brother.”

  Cole had to laugh, despite his remorse. “Touché.”

  Rig’s slammed his empty cup on the table and wiped his mouth across his sleeve. “It’s garbage, but at least it’s beer.”

  The golden beverage swirled inside Cole’s cup, and he half considered sliding toward the mechanic. Too many negative emotions stayed his hand. The bitter drink was semi-cool as it washed down his throat. The rest of the cup’s contents followed suit, and his eyes watered.

  “Atta boy, Nugget!” Rig cheered. “Drink your problems away.”

  “I doubt we have enough beer for that.”

  Rig shot Cole the stink eye. “Are you gonna get all mopey on me? ‘Cuz if you are, you can take your sorry ass to your quarters and cry like a little bitch. The Bar ain’t no place for whiny softies with hurt feelings.”

  “Gee, thanks for the pep talk. ‘Sides, I’m not sure the leak in my room’s been patched.”

  A little beer spilled over the top of Rig’s next pour. He sat down and shook his head. “All the crazy shit you’ve been through: gangsters, murder, starin’ death in the face... And you’re bent because you yelled at your girlfriend? Pathetic.”

  Ouch. Yep, no time like the present to get hammered. Cole stood up and poured his second cup. He downed it before pouring his third and sitting back down. He grimaced at the bitterness that remained in his mouth. “You’re right. This stuff is garbage.”

  Rig grunted, his attention on the entrance to the living quarters. In walked Emmerich, her gaze alternating between the occupants. “Speaking of garbage....”

  Cole turned to face her, his stomach sinking a little further. There was something different about her, something lacking from her usual rigid, imposing presence. Her shoulders were slightly slouched, head tilted forward in resignation. He thought she might make an about-face and return from whence she came.

  “You comin’ or goin’?” Rig demanded. “It’s happy hour ‘round these parts, and I ain’t got time for your shit.”

  Cole’s eyes bulged, and he expected a firm verbal thrashing. Instead he got an obedient participant. Guess our little “chat” shook her up more than I intended.

  Without a word, she headed toward the counter and collected a cup. She poured herself some beer and joined them at the table. Cole was astounded, though he was also aware that she was avoiding his gaze.

  “Good,” Rig said, knocking firmly on the table. “Now it’s a party.”

  “I should’ve brought cards,” Cole said, half-kidding.

  “Have you ever wondered why I left Military?”

  Cole blinked at Emmerich, then shared a look with Rig. Is she talking to me or both of us? “Um, was that a rhetorical question?”

  Emmerich’s lips pressed into a tight line. “No.” Her fingers tapped nervously on the sides of her cup, which had yet to be sipped.

  Holy shit! She’s really making an attempt to bond with us and come clean. “Yes. In fact, I did wonder about that. I just thought better than to press you about your career.” And I didn’t want a smoking hole through the back of my head.

  Emmerich nodded. “I admit that I’m not the most approachable person.”

  “Ha! That’s the understatement of the century,” Rig said.

  Cole cringed, though Emmerich had no sharp retort. Sensing an opening, he eased back in his chair and bit the line. “Alright. Why did you leave Military?”

  Emmerich’s gaze met Cole’s. She cleared her throat. “Your mother left me no choice.”

  Whoa! One-eighty! “My mother. Admiral Harper Musgrave. Y
our idol. The same woman whose reputation you defended though thick and thin. You’re telling me—us—that she’s the reason you left Military.”

  Emmerich offered a stiff nod, a myriad of emotion playing upon her angular face.

  “Why?”

  She sat a little straighter. “You once told me that your mother was a ruthless megalomaniac, hell-bent on commanding the entire System.”

  “Verbatim,” Cole said, impressed with her memory. “You also agreed with me.”

  “I did, and a part of me still respects the person she was.” She drew and exhaled a sharp breath through her nose, obviously struggling. “But I was wrong about her. As were you. She was a violent terrorist with deep ties to Black Dwarf.”

  “I know,” Cole said, recalling what he’d discovered under the command of Admiral Arturo Preston. “It’s why I did what I did.” He glanced around, remembering where the Icarus was currently docked. “At least, what I thought I did.”

  “Wait,” Rig interrupted, pointing his empty cup at her. “You tellin’ us you knew all along that Nugget’s psycho-bitch mother was a terrorist? Yet you defended her and gave us all shit whenever she was mentioned? That’s some nerve. The two of you must’ve been screwin’ in private for you to overlook that résumé.”

  Emmerich’s face turned beet red, and Cole thought she might flip the table despite it being bolted to the floor. What she did do was launch her cup at Rig’s grinning face, showering him in beer. The mechanic only laughed, his calloused hand slapping the tabletop with incredible force.

  I guess that proves him right, Cole mused.

  “You filthy prick!” Emmerich shouted, her calm veneer caving to the angry inspector they all knew and tolerated.

  Rig wiped a sheen of liquid from his face, still chuckling. “What? I’m the one who should be pissed. I don’t care if you’re bumping uglies with Nugget’s mom. He might, though.” He got up, still laughing, and walked to the counter to grab a towel. “I’ll pour you another round since you spilled your last one.”

  “Don’t bother,” Emmerich said, standing as well.

  “Whoa, hold on!” Cole said, hoping to stop her from abandoning the scene of the crime. “Don’t take it so personally. You know he’s touched in the head. Think of his comment as a form of inclusion. Hell, Rigsy even offered to pour you a drink. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”