by Mike Moscoe
“Her blood will,” Doc said, picking the baby up and depositing her in her father’s arms. The dad’s teeth clenched at the sight of the small needle Jerry produced to prick his daughter’s heel. The baby took the new sensation in with all the others and answered with only a slight whimper. As Jerry held up his drop of blood, the father took his daughter back to his wife.
“What’s in the blood?” Ray asked.
“I told you there were two viruses working on this planet. One caused the brain tumor and has us spooked. The other seemed to adjust our allergic reactions. I suspect it will make it possible for any human to live on any planet ever occupied by the Three. My problem was developing an inoculation against the first virus without inhibiting the second. I’ve spent the past month, while you soldiers were having so much fun running around,” Doc said dryly, “working on it. I think I have it; at least it made one virus disappear from my blood after I inoculated myself. If that little girl is clean, and stays clean for the next few days, I’ll know I have it under control.”
“You want to give me a shot, too?”
Jerry frowned as he studied the baby’s blood at his workstation. “How much do you want to mess with that map in your head? Your call.”
Ray pulled the sheet up to cover himself, taking little comfort in the added warmth as the very thoughts coursing through his mind chilled him. His people needed the knowledge in his head. No matter what his personal price, he could not let down those who had fought with him, died for him. Maybe they could go home—all except him.
The next day, Ray felt recovered enough to set up a meeting with Matt and the key crew of Second Chance. Lek worked his usual miracle of wires and nets. Closing his eyes, Ray leaned against the stone and found himself in a planetarium. Above him, now-familiar stars moved across the ceiling/sky of Santa Maria. Matt, his XO, and his jumpmaster, Sandy O’Malley, stood at his side.
“Neat setup you got here,” Matt drawled.
“Yeah, I seem to have inherited it. Hope I can figure out how it works.”
“First time we were lost,” Sandy said, “we were in a system with four suns. Can you take us there?”
Ray rummaged around in his strange memories, keeping one finger firmly on the Santa Maria system. Images flashed by his mind’s eye, some of star systems, most of other things. He shook his head. “I have no idea what kind of indexing system they use: It’s like being turned loose in a vast library full of books written in languages I don’t understand.”
“Think we can get anything from the dead computer?” the jumpmaster asked.
“We wiped out a pretty big chunk of it, physically. I don’t know what we did to it cognitively. We haven’t heard so much as a peep from it in the past few days. Me, the kids, anyone. It was running a lot of folks around like zombies. I hear that they’re fine, just haunted by the experience.”
“Enough,” Matt said, resting a supportive hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Let’s see how you work what the computer left you.”
“Yes,” Ray said. At his will, the stars moved as if they were rapidly accelerating away from Santa Maria, arrowing straight for the jump point marked with a red dot surrounded by a small green circle. Without orders from Ray, they began to rotate moments before they hit the jump.
On the other side was a barren system with three stars. “There’s the second jump in this system!” Sandy exclaimed, “and look at the huge green circle around it. Bet that describes how far it can wander.” Sandy was ready to explain at the drop of a hat how jump points orbited several star systems. From the perspective of a single system, they were very unpredictable.
Matt stepped forward to look around. “We dropped into this system on our second-to-last jump. Then the second jump was a good five hundred thousand klicks away. But the green circle from one overlaps the others’. If they were right next to each other when we blasted through, blind and dumb, we could have come in one jump and out the second without even knowing it.”
“I think that’s what we did,” Sandy agreed.
“So let’s see what’s through the other jump,” Ray grinned. Their viewpoint rushed at it as they again began to spin. On the other side was Wardhaven. “Home, sweet home.”
“We can do this,” Sandy crowed. “I’m recording this. I’ll study it, calculate how much rotation and velocity we need. We can make it back.”
“Good,” Ray agreed. “The doc is working up more of his serum to inoculate your crew against this planet.”
“We’ll be in orbit in six hours, thanks to running in at three gees,” Matt told Ray. “First shuttle down will pick up Kat and company. There’s a break in the weather over her, and after two days of freezing they could use a lift out.”
“Good. I understand they’re getting awfully hungry.”
Matt smiled but went on. “Ray, I’m only inoculating half my crew against the virus. The other half stays aboard ship. We’ll be the control group to make sure you’re not carrying anything.”
That knocked the floor from under Ray. “Say again,” he stammered.
“After just a week on this planet, you dirtside puppies tested positive for the virus. Jerry’s going to eradicate the virus from everyone on the ground team but you. If none of my uninoculated shipfolk show signs of the virus by the time we’re home, we’ll know you’re not a threat to Wardhaven.”
“We’ll have to talk about that,” Ray snapped, afraid to touch the hope bubbling up inside him. He’d been around the block enough to know that if something was too good to be true, it usually was. He and Ray and the doc would have to talk—a lot.
The dining hall was back in operation. Tables and chairs of local wood replaced shattered plastic, scenting the air with the earthy tang of four worlds, From the repaired stoves and ovens wafted the smells of a feast drawn from both the larder of Second Chance and the local market. Tables were set with linen and china, the finest the locals could give in gratitude. The hall was crowded now for a victory feast…celebrating what they’d done here…and that they were going home.
In the fields beyond the base, farmers worked from sunup to sundown, bringing in a crop that had matured and dried under ten days of incessant sun. People would eat between now and the next crop—maybe not well, but no one would starve. The starfolk and their guests had much to be thankful for.
Mary, pushed back from her place at the head table. With a sigh she surveyed those present, and the missing faces at the feast. She should have seen the change in Cassie. Maybe, if things had been slower, less desperate, she would have. That was something she’d have to learn to live with. Somehow, she doubted life would ever slow down enough to let her take things at her leisure, take all the hours she wanted to do what needed doing. Ray had paid the price in blood and pain for rushing her position. Cassie had paid the highest price for their trying to be everything and everywhere—and Mary would pay it, too.
Mary swallowed hard. Enough dark thoughts; today was a celebration.
Around her, plates were empty. Kat led a couple of middies as they filled wineglasses from a few bottles the padre had chased up. The Colonel also was leaning back in his chair, surveying what he’d done and what it had cost. Mary rose, raised her glass, and waited for quiet. It came quickly.
“To Colonel Ray Longknife, ambassador and whatever, who held us together and beat a whole damn planet.”
“To the Colonel,” they answered, and sipped.
Mary did not sit down. “I got a request from three of my marines to stay on here.” A week or two ago, she might have included her own name on that list. Not now, not after ordering Du to fire on these people, not after they’d stomped Cassie into the mud. Mary suppressed those thoughts and produced a smile.
“Seems they met the girl or boy of their life.” From the table where the marines sat, there was kidding and elbowing. “The Colonel says I can process their discharge papers.” That brought a cheer, if only from three voices.
“I’ve checked with Jeff, here.” She nodded
to where Jeff and Annie sat across from her. “He helped me incorporate you as the Santa Maria subsidiary of the ‘Ours, by Damn, Mining Consortium.’ Jeff will be our local CEO to keep you working”—groans at that—“and the padre has agreed to be chairman of our board to keep Jeff honest. Don’t any of you forget. We’ll be back.” Mary raised her glass. “To us worker bees who make it all happen.”
Another sip from glasses that could not be refilled.
Jeff was the next to rise, Annie beside him. They raised their glasses high. “To all of you, and the ones like you, no longer with us. You fought for us when we didn’t know we needed to fight. You fought for us when we sure weren’t deserving of your sweat and blood. Thank you.” Another small sip.
“Hey, Jeff,” Dumont called. “Where’s your sister?”
Jeff laughed. “Last I saw, she was trudging along a railroad track, doing zombie duty for the computer. Maybe it taught her something, but I doubt it.”
While they laughed at that, Ray got to his feet. The room went silent. “To we who serve, who stood, who waited, who fought, who won against something deadly and weird.” Heads nodded.
“We had some good friends helping us.” Ray raised his glass to the kids. Rose, David, and Jon waved their glasses, full of apple juice. “We had good advice and help from others.” He raised his glass again to the padre, Jeff, Annie.
“But first and foremost, my toast is to you, you bloody bunch who never quit. You line beasts and spacers, chiefs, officers, and midshipmen,” as each was named, Ray raised his glass to them. As he named them, they stood.
“Here’s to us who serve, who make the last stand for humanity. Who go where they don’t know enough to want us. Who do what they don’t know enough to know they need. To the questions we raise and the answers we find.”
“To those who serve,” was the toast as the glasses were drained.
Ray roamed the Second Chance as she accelerated out at one gee, slipped through one jump to exactly the system the map in his head said they’d find. He visited with every spacer, petty officer, and midshipman.
It seemed half of them had pictures of wives, sweethearts, kids, and grandkids they wanted to show him, that they couldn’t wait to get back to. Ray had a list of everyone on board and went down it meticulously. Anyone who could get what he was carrying got a full half hour in a closed room with him. If there was any way being around him could give it to them, Ray did his damn best to do it.
Every two days the doc did a blood test on the entire crew of the Second Chance. All checks came back negative. The ship’s air filters turned up no virus samples after the second day out.
Ray locked himself in his statesroom as they made the final jump into Wardhaven space. He didn’t dare be on the bridge as the stars changed. If the stars came out wrong, he couldn’t trust himself to keep the bland face the code required of an officer.
There was a long pause after the final jump. Ray stared at the blank wall of his room, hardly breathing.
“Ray, we’re insystem,” Matt finally called. “The right one.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Ray sighed. “Please patch me a call to Wardhaven.”
Ray waited as the call went through to Rita Nuu-Longknife, wherever she might be. The screen went from blank to show her face sitting behind his desk at the ministry. She recognized the message immediately as a ship’s call. “Rita Longknife accepting any incoming message. Over.”
“Rita. It’s me. I’m home,” was all Ray could get out.
For more long minutes he watched as she did her job while his message covered the distance to her and back again. Then her head snapped up. Her eyes sparkled. A smile more beautiful than sunrise touched her face.
“Of course. You said you would be.”
Coming in February 2014 from Ace Books
TO DO OR DIE
A brand-new JUMP UNIVERSE novel
written by Mike Shepherd
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mike Moscoe grew up Navy. It taught him early about change and the chain of command. He’s worked as a bartender and cabdriver, personnel advisor and labor negotiator. Now retired from building databases about the endangered critters of the Northwest, he’s looking forward to some fun reading and writing.
Mike lives in Vancouver, Washington, with his wife, Ellen, and close to his daughter and grandchildren. He enjoys reading, writing, dreaming, watching grandchildren for story ideas, and upgrading his computer—all are never-ending pursuits.
You can learn more about Mike and all his books at his website www.mikemoscoe.com, e-mail him at [email protected], or follow Kris Longknife on Facebook.