by Lee, Sharon
He stroked her hair, feeling the crystal beads slide through his fingers.
"Lorith," he said, gently, oh, so very gently. "I cannot allow my ship to rest any longer in care of the Light."
She raised her head and looked down at him, eyes wide and very black.
"It said. . .six days, as we measure them here, when time is aware. Six days, and your ship will be ready." She frowned. "I have exerted my will. You will come to no harm, though I will. . .miss you."
"You need not. Come with me."
"No, who would Keep the Light? It might do anything, left to itself."
So it might.
He sat up, and she did, drawing a crimson cover over her naked shoulders.
"I must go," he said, and slid out of bed, reaching for his leathers.
* * *
He was determined and she could not--would not--influence him to wait. She showed him the way to the repair bay, hearing the voice of the Light.
Little man, you will have your ship when it is properly prepared.
Jen Sin checked, then continued toward the place where the tunnel intersected the hall.
"The pilot decides when his ship is ready," he said aloud. "I go now, and I thank you, and the Light Keeper, for your care."
She hardened her will, and pushed at the Light.
"Let him go to his duty," she said, and added, terrified for his safety, "Unless the ship is not functional."
She was an idiot; her fear for him softened her will. And in that moment, the Light struck.
The walls crackled; she felt the charge build, and simultaneously threw her will and herself between Jen Sin and the bolt.
She heard him scream, her name it was--and then heard nothing more.
* * *
He came to himself in the library, with no memory of having arrived there. He supposed that he had run--run like a hare from Lorith's murder, to save his own precious self, to survive against every odd--that was Korval's talent.
Craven, he told himself, running his hands into his hair and bending his head. He was weeping, at least he had that much heart.
But the Scout mind would not be stilled, and too soon it came to him that--he dared not leave the Light unwatched. For who knew what it might do, left alone?
He had the schematics, and his Scout-trained talents. Did he dare move against it and risk his life? Or ought he to stand guard and prevent it doing harm?
"Jen Sin?" He would swear that he felt her hand on his hair, her voice edged with concern. "Were you hurt?"
Slowly, he lifted his face, staring into hers, the pointed chin, the space-black eyes, and the crystal beads glittering in pale, curly hair.
"You were killed," he said, toneless.
She stepped away. "No."
"Yes!" He snapped to his feet, the chair clattering backward, snatched her shoulders and shook her.
A thought tantalized, then crystallized.
"How many times has it killed you?"
"I don't know," she said, shockingly calm. "Perhaps I die every time we drift back to quiet after an alert, and the Light remakes me at need. Does it matter? I am always myself, and I have my memories. The sample, you know."
He stared, speechless, feeling her fragile and real under his fingers.
"The sample, of course," he agreed. "What came of Jeneet's sample, Lorith?"
"She did not use the beads, and when I called her back, she remembered nothing."
He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the unit he had risen from, and the crystal-cold voice, offering him a choice.
"Jen Sin?"
He raised his hand and ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the cool beads slip past his skin.
"I wonder," he said, softly. "Is there a. . .sample of me?"
Her eyes flickered.
"Yes."
"And have you more beads?"
"Yes."
"Then this is what I think we should do, while I wait for my ship to be...properly prepared."
* * *
The operator sat at her board, and watched the ship tumble out of the repair bay. The scans elucidated a vessel in good repair, the hull intact, all systems green and vigorous.
She took a breath, and watched her screens, dry-eyed, until the Jump-glare faded, and the space at Tinsori Light was empty, for as far as her instruments could scan.
* * *
He brought the pinbeam online, entered the message, in Korval House code. The message that would warn the clan away, and see Tinsori Light scrubbed from the list of auto-coords in Korval courier ships. The message that would tell the delm the Jump Pilot's ring was lost, along with the good ship and pilot. The message that would tell the delm that when she needed another packet delivered, it could never again be Jen Sin who would do it.
Emergency repairs at Tinsori Light. Left my ring in earnest. The keeper's a cantra-grubbing pirate, but the ship should hold air to Lytaxin. Send one of ours and eight cantra to redeem my pledge. Send them armed. In fact send two...
The 'beam went. He waited, patiently, for the ack, looking down at his hands, folded on the board, ringless and calm.
He reviewed his plan, and found it, if not good, certainly necessary.
A ship properly prepared by an agent of the Great Enemy? How could he bring such a ship into the galaxy proper, save for one thing only?
Comm chimed; the 'beam had been acknowledged by the first relay.
* * *
She felt a hand settle on her shoulder, and looked up, finding his reflection in a darkened screen.
"He's gone?"
"Yes."
She spun the chair and came to her feet; he dropped back to give her room, the beads glittering like rain in his dark hair.
"Now, it is for us," she said. "Will we survive it?"
He smiled and held out his hand, the big ring sparkling on his finger.
"Many times, perhaps," he said.
* * *
Space is haunted.
Pilots know this; station masters and light keepers, too; though they seldom speak of it, even to each other. Why would they? Ghost or imagination; wyrd space or black hole, life--and space--is dangerous.
The usual rules apply.
* * *
About the Authors
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller are the authors of eighteen collaborative novels of science fiction and fantasy, most set in the Liaden Universe® a space opera geography of their own devising. Their latest novel is Ghost Ship, published by Baen Books in August 2011. Dragon Ship is coming from Baen, in September 2012.
In addition to her work in the Liaden Universe® Sharon has also seen published a contemporary fantasy, Carousel Tides, and two mysteries set in the town of Wimsy, Maine.
For a more-or-less-complete bibliography, as well as bios, and a list of upcoming author appearances, please drop by http://www.korval.com