by Jason Letts
Bailor chuckled.
“That’s part of the web of protection woven around it. Everyone who touches it will die because everyone dies, not because there’s anything unusually dangerous about being in or piloting the ship,” he said.
“Reznik Igorovich,” she said. “Did you steal it from him?”
“No, she brought us on board but died in a fight against another vessel. That was a long time ago and we’ve had the ship ever since,” Rion said.
“She? Reznik Igorovich was a woman?” the young lady gasped, her blue eyes wide. After a moment she shook her head. “It sounds like the ship is a magnet for pirates. I can’t fight.”
Rion exhaled and nodded, trying to reassure her.
“The ship changes shape and heat signature. That’s how we could park it here without anyone noticing. There’s no more risk of attracting pirates than anyone has flying anything. But I’m telling you that this is for real,” he said.
The more he thought about it, the more he worried she’d alert the Alliance directly or share the news of the ship’s presence publicly, which would give them a slew of new problems. But she stared hard into his eyes, clearly tempted.
“Prove it.”
As they returned to the lower level, Rion found out the woman’s name was Miriam Delano and she was a participant in the Milky Way race and other sporting events. Although she’d never won the big cup, she had done well enough to earn a shiny new Voidjet. When she first looked at the Assailing Face, its unusual shape gave her pause. Even stepping into the cabin, she didn’t say a word.
“Not quite what you expected? I understand how you feel. Come take a look in the cockpit. This is the switch that turns on the face. I can’t do that for obvious reasons. It would attract an insane amount of attention.”
When Miriam stepped inside the cockpit, she began to display a sense that she was impressed. The console was more sophisticated than anything she’d ever seen. Rion felt strange trying to sell the thing he’d labored on and loved so much, but in the end it turned out it was just a ship and it no longer fit their needs.
“Can you provide charges to cover the repairs?” Miriam asked, the first sign that she was really considering the deal.
“We’re flat broke, but there’s a lot of equipment on the ship you could sell if you were so inclined. I know that’s not as appealing as a chip full of charges to sweeten the deal, and neither is the only other requirement I need to ask of you…”
“Keep it a secret what this ship is,” Miriam said, finishing his thought. “I get it. I can see that this baby has been through a lot. She must be some friend for you to consider giving this up.”
“You can read Reznik’s logs, and mine as well,” Bailor said, stepping forward. “This is a ship for those with solemn purpose.”
“That I don’t have, yet. But I will keep it secure and unexploited. I don’t deny that possessing this ship is any pilot’s wildest dream. You’ll have to promise me one day to meet up and show me how it all works. I’ll ping the Voidjet,” she said.
“If we’re still alive, sure. Do we have a deal? Time is running out,” Rion said.
Miriam sighed and took another look at the cramped interior that was far from luxurious, as Rion had discovered when Reznik took him on board. The young lady stuck out her hand and Rion anxiously shook it. The biggest hurdle to getting to Lena had been overcome, now all that remained were millions of kilometers.
Trading in the Assailing Face for the Voidjet Meta had its benefits, no doubt about it. As they departed from the docking station and began moving toward the chancellor’s secret hideout in the middle of nowhere, a strange sensation crept up on Rion from behind. The cushioned seat had warmers in it. The copilot even had his own plush chaise, and Bailor was currently reclining in it and taking a nap.
It felt like they’d stepped into someone else’s life.
When Rion peeked into the galley—a proper room, not a section of cupboards—he found enough food to last them a year without ever coming across a less-than-delicious meal. Soft music drifted from the bedroom, where Miriam had merely grabbed an armful of clothing before saying sayonara to the ship for good. When Rion closed the bedroom door he discovered there was so much insulation and sensitivity controls that it didn’t even seem like he was flying on a ship.
It was hard not to think that if he’d had it this good he wouldn’t have bothered trying to do anything about the state of society. Its bad parts would’ve all been sealed away. Then for all he knew he would’ve started acting just like Chancellor Yetrue if he had that kind of power.
On second thought, Rion promised himself that even if he’d had this kind of comfort in his life, he still would’ve tried to do something to help other people. To prove it, he went back to the cockpit and shook Bailor awake.
“Let’s start putting together a plan,” he said.
“Can it wait until the massage rollers are done with my lower back?” Bailor joked before sitting up. “What are we in for?”
“We’re conducting the most important raid of our lives against an elite target with near infinite resources at his disposal, and this is to be accomplished in a civilian ship without even windshield wipers to use as weapons,” he said.
Bailor nodded and looked over the elegantly designed but simple pilot’s console. There were no hidden switches or bars for launching anything. The scanners wouldn’t know the difference between a missile and a bowling ball.
“When we show up we could say we got lost and ask for directions,” Bailor shrugged.
“I’m sure that’s not the worst idea we could have,” Rion said. “Seeing anyone will be alarming to them, but there might be some advantage if we’re flying in on an innocent looking Voidjet. In two days, I might even be able to rig up some sort of defense system. Chaff or…”
“Or expelling the waste like Lena did?”
Rion chuckled.
“Unless Miriam spent years on the toilet here I don’t think we’ll have enough to pull that kind of stunt.”
“Really though, I’m not sure how much planning we’ll really be able to do. We don’t know what we’re up against or how they’ll react to us. The Vestige and other ships might beat us there and alter the mix of what we have to deal with.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rion said. “This ship is screaming fast and we didn’t lose that much time getting a hold of it. Unless Hobart and the regents were waiting with their engines ready to go, we might be in the lead.”
“Still…”
“Still, you’re right. The best we can do is get there, do whatever is possible to reach the chancellor, then find Lena and leave.”
“It doesn’t sound like much when you put it that way,” Bailor said.
Rion leaned back in his seat. After going so long at a breakneck pace, the best preparation might be to act like a lounging tourist for a little while longer. He did do some work getting the ship ready with small measures in case of an emergency, but mostly he explored all of the corners and crevasses to know what they had on hand.
Charting a path out into mostly unexplored, empty space made for a quiet trip, as they expected. Once Mercury was well behind them, it seemed pointless to even glance at the scanners. The closer they got to their destination, the more they wondered if they’d spot signs of other ships flying in the same direction, but nothing was around.
There was plenty of downtime for Rion to fantasize about rescuing Lena from certain death in the nick of time, which would compel her to shower him with affection, including but not limited to a volume of kisses that would make any casual observer wonder if both of them were simultaneously practicing their CPR techniques.
But dreaming gave way to the cold reality in front of them soon enough. They were mere hours away from arriving at their destination, and Rion felt acutely in his gut the quandary of whether or not Lena had survived this long. Considering her many talents and thirst for pain, it seemed impossible she wouldn’t. But then he thoug
ht about the chancellor killing his father and wondered how she could still be alive.
“The Meta’s scanners will be in range any moment. If I understand their capabilities correctly, there’ll be no hiding it if anyone has an onboard pool,” Bailor said.
“Roger that,” Rion said. As long as they could get a reading on the shape of the structure and the number of ships in the vicinity, he’d be happy with that.
A single beep went off from the scanners that suggested no one was around the station. When they got the first set of images, that turned out to be partly correct.
“There are a handful of ships docked here and here along these wings. And then you can see defense systems replete with launchers along the spine,” Rion said. “The station is larger than I thought it would be. And is that what I think it is? There’s a bubble at the very top for walking along the exterior of the station. But back to those docks. Maybe we’ll be able to make it to an open one before they hail us, but if we don’t, we can tell them our navigation system is off.”
“Do you really think they would buy that?” Bailor asked, cringing.
“On second thought, you’re right. We’ve left the realm of creative discourse behind.”
It was a relief when the first thing that greeted them wasn’t a warhead or blasts from a cannon. Whether it was the sheer novelty of having someone approach that held them off or not, Rion couldn’t have been more grateful.
The console lit up when they were being hailed, and Rion stared hard at the alert. A mistake here was sure to get them killed. The best solution seemed simply to say they were here to see the chancellor, but at best that would lead to thorny questions about who they were and why they had come. Rion needed something even better than that.
Breathing deeply, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the disc his father had given to him depicting a hand and shortened finger, the secret signal of the Alliance.
“Send them a scan of this,” Rion said, handing over the disc he’d lugged around most of his life. Bailor took it and held it over the ship’s recorder, transmitting the image. The alert faded and the Voidjet continued on to an empty airlock right next to an intimidating Alliance fighter.
They took a moment to collect themselves before attempting to exit the spaceship, and in that time Rion happened to take a closer look at the fighter beside them. To his surprise, it was a much older model, nearly ancient, with faded emblems. It wouldn’t have been unlikely if the insides had rusted. Whatever he’d been expecting to find upon his arrival here, it wasn’t that.
“Come on,” Rion said after appraising their neighbor.
The relic fighter continued to throw Rion off as they went to the airlock. He counted on needing to fight, sneak, or run, but none of that seemed necessary when they opened the hatch into an entirely vacant and dimly lit room that appeared more like a lounge than a docking bay. Crimson carpet, stools, and a bar with nothing on the shelves were the most prevalent features around. The station’s interior was perfectly silent.
“I’m beginning to suspect that the hail we received was part of an automated protocol for all incoming vessels. What if the chancellor is already dead and there isn’t anybody residing here?”
Rion raised his eyebrows, briefly entertaining the possibility before dismissing it.
“Then where’s Lena? She’d be sitting right at the bar here if nobody was on board telling us she was ready to go. No, the chancellor is on board, and so is Lena. That doesn’t mean there are many more people than that,” he said.
“Where should we go?” Bailor asked, taking a few steps forward to scout out three adjoining hallways running down the station’s arms. A lift in the center waited to take them along its spine.
“I need to find Chancellor Yetrue, but I don’t know what’ll happen when I reach him. In case something goes wrong, I want you to prepare a method of completing the mission. See if you can reach the station’s engineering wing or power plant, get into the computer systems and ready it to blow. If that’s not possible, maybe shutting everything down would have the same effect. No matter what, we need to get this done.”
Bailor looked at him hard but didn’t argue. This was what it all came down to, the risk that the only way to win was to make the ultimate sacrifice. For all they knew, Lena had already made it.
“I would’ve been nervous before, but now I feel calm that it might turn out that way. I’ll sabotage the station and set it to go off in an hour if I can’t find you.”
Nodding, Rion watched Bailor step into the lift and ride it down through the floor. When it came back and Rion stepped in, he pondered where exactly the chancellor might be. Considering the man’s background, a communications or broadcasting room would be the most likely choice. He thought he saw something resembling an antenna halfway to the top of the station and sent the lift there.
But the lift didn’t stop at the predetermined floor or when he hit the button to cease movement. It went up and up, threatening to burst out of the station’s ceiling before decelerating and coming to a halt at the bubbled roof.
Through the lift’s windows, Rion saw plants growing from long soil containers fixed to the floor. Looking around, he spotted something bright along one corner and decided that was where he needed to go. There wasn’t much to see after stepping out of the lift and taking in the wide view of space the station’s top terrace offered. Jupiter was roughly the size of the moon as one would see it from Earth. Countless stars cast a glow over everything, but that one bright spot ahead looked like a star blazing just out of reach.
Rion saw that it was a giant console screen when he got closer, though what it displayed was a mystery. A standing platform had been erected before it, where a man with arms stretched high appeared to be orchestrating the universe. Though Rion walked silently, the man turned his back on the console and spotted him approaching.
Being seen emboldened Rion to continue marching forward with authority. Although he couldn’t see anyone else around, he didn’t think for a second the chancellor was defenseless. A few more steps brought his features into relief against the brightness behind him. Though he was an older man, his hair was sandy brown without a speck of gray. His skin looked as youthful as Rion’s and his movements suggested he was in perfect health and strong to boot. He wore an Alliance uniform not too different than that of Hobart.
Either he was invincible or he spent a lot of time with skin and hair care products.
The man slowly raised a hand and formed the symbol on the disc. Stopping a short distance before the edge of the platform, Rion followed suit. A weak smile that really could’ve been a sneer formed on Yetrue’s lips.
“It was only a matter of time until someone found me. This solar system gets more stifling all the time,” he said.
Rion could barely keep himself from reeling at the irony.
“Many would say that’s something you’re responsible for,” Rion said, adamant but not yet angry. The accusation seemed to provoke more liveliness from the chancellor, whose eyes peered down as he bared his teeth.
“And who are you to pass judgment on me? You look like a vagabond in those dirty coveralls, coming here empty handed to grovel. Instead you hurl vile untruths with no cause,” Yetrue said, his voice rising so loud he could’ve been heard plainly back at the lift.
The message set Rion off more than the volume.
“No cause? They say I look like my father, so you might recognize me. You had him killed.”
Yetrue exhaled and blinked hard before shaking his head.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Maybe you don’t recognize me, but you’d be aware of my ship, the Assailing Face. We raided your weapons shipments, brought down the food distribution station, and knocked the Vestige offline,” Rion said with his best smile as Yetrue’s expression soured.
“Oh yes,” he said in a mocking tone. “I believe we have you scheduled for an untimely death. Let me see if I can call someone up to help
you with that.”
The man turned to the console and punched in the commands. After a few taps, one of the plant containers off to the side began to elevate to the sound of grinding gears. A case with thick glass rose from below it. Trapped inside was Lena, who pounded on the clear surface and shouted without making a sound outside. Yetrue glanced over his shoulder.
“Oops, wrong button. These pets never pop up when you want them to. I hear you’re supposed to feed and water them, but I can’t be bothered with mundane tasks like that. Besides, this stray rat turned up stuffed to the gills on my pumpernickel. Now about that help…” he said, drifting off.
Rion ran to the glass where Lena was still frantically banging on the side. Her mouth moved in what must’ve been some kind of pleading. Her face already looked gaunt and Rion had no trouble believing that she hadn’t eaten in days. He put his hand to the glass where she was tapping with a finger. It would’ve been nice to know what she was trying to say to him, but if Yetrue was calling up more help he didn’t have time to stand there and figure it out.
He had to act fast.
Giving her a last nod, he turned and ran for the platform, deciding it was his moment to take down the maniacal killer right then and there. He ascended the steps three at a time, soon reaching the platform only to discover that looking up at the chancellor hadn’t given a false but flattering impression of his size. He was a large man who seemed ready for a fight. When they faced off, Rion had trouble figuring out the best way to attack.
“Come to think of it, I do believe I recognize you enough to know who your father was. I didn’t know he had a child or I would’ve snuffed you out long ago. These kids always get absurd notions about how innocent their fathers were and will do anything to avenge them. Do you want to know what Orson Sivers was really like before you get ready to follow him into the afterlife?”
“I’m not interested in the ravings of a paranoid lunatic,” Rion said, inching forward. He knew he couldn’t waste too many more seconds talking. In the distance, the lift was already arriving at the terrace and whatever passengers it held would not be helpful.