Crossways: A Psi-Tech Novel

by Jacey Bedford

  “We need more sonic shower units.” That was Victor Lorient’s opening gambit.

  “Hello, Director, how are you doing?” Ben extended his hand and from force of habit Lorient took it, though he didn’t remove his glove.

  The man looked tired and unkempt. His dark hair flopped over one eye and he’d lost weight. His nose dominated the landscape of his face, his features turning from chiseled to gaunt, his eyes deep set. Once handsome, now Victor’s features had lost their vigor and he’d become haggard. How had he aged so much in such a short time?

  Victor snatched his hand back as soon as he could. “The players’ facilities are inadequate and this whole place is starting to stink of the unwashed.”

  Ben couldn’t deny it.

  “Let me show you.” Lorient walked a few paces, then whirled suddenly. “Are we prisoners here?”

  “You’re confined for your own protection,” Ben said. “Crossways can be dangerous for anyone not used to its ways, but Mother Ramona can arrange for anything you want to be brought in, or for small groups of you to go out, escorted, of course.”

  Lorient scowled. “We had to leave so much behind on Olyanda.”

  “But not one life lost.”

  Lorient sighed. “I’ll grant you that, Commander Benjamin. You were right about van Blaiden and his thugs.”

  Ben wondered if he could get that in writing, or maybe chiseled into tablets of stone two meters tall. He suppressed a grin. It was the closest to thanks Lorient would ever come.

  “Commander Benjamin.” Rena Lorient picked her way across some of the makeshift beds and held out both hands to him.

  “Mrs. Lorient, how are you doing?” He took her hands and she squeezed. Ben hadn’t seen Rena since she left Olyanda with the first evacuees. He’d expected her to look tired, but she looked energized. Throwing herself into work was probably her way of dealing with the loss of her son. Ben had heard that all was not well between the Lorients since Danny’s death. Losing a child, especially in such tragic circumstances, could either strengthen a marriage or tear it apart. The jury was still out on this one, but it wasn’t looking good.

  “I’m doing well, thank you. Keeping busy. There’s so much to do here, and since I arrived early, most of it has fallen to me.” She gave Victor a long look, but he didn’t respond.

  There was an awkward silence, so, thankful to have avoided a guided tour of inadequate showers, Ben moved on to practicalities, getting a list of everything they needed, noticing that during the whole conversation the Lorients only spoke to him and not to each other.

  Chapter Seven

  DEALS AND ALLIANCES

  “HEY, WAIT FOR ME.” WES CAUGHT UP WITH Kitty as she ran a second circuit of Port 22.

  “Keep up if you can. This girl waits for no man.” She smiled as he fell into step with her.

  “I thought we could maybe go somewhere together—a drink or a meal.” He delivered his invitation as a string of staccato words, snatching a breath with each one.

  “You should run with me more often, Wes. Sounds like you’re out of condition.”

  “I’ll show you out of condition. Race you to the gate. Loser buys dinner.”

  “You’re assuming we’re going out for dinner.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  He said it to her back as she lengthened her stride and pulled away. She heard his boot soles slapping on the deck as he pounded after her. Only a last-minute spurt got her to the gate half a stride before him.

  “See . . .” He gasped for breath. “Now you’ve got to come out with me because I owe you dinner.”

  “So you do.” Her own breathing wasn’t so labored.

  “When?”

  “Give me ten minutes to shower and change.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not?” She smiled at him. “Besides, if we don’t go now it will have to wait a few days. I’m shipping out to Olyanda first thing in the morning.”

  His grin touched a genuine spark and she found that her response was not altogether fabricated.

  Ten minutes later after Kitty had been through everything in her small wardrobe twice and settled on the only dress that she had, a pale green calf-length sheath with a short, practical jacket, they stepped into a tub-cab. “My place first,” Wes said.

  She raised one eyebrow.

  “Nothing funny, but I’m not taking you out to dinner in my uniform.”

  Kitty looked at Wes, the planes of his face, the way he towered above her without looming or making her uncomfortable. Maybe she wouldn’t mind a little funny stuff to wipe out the memory of Ari van Blaiden.

  “Okay, your place before dinner, but before your place I need to send another message to my mom.” This time it really was to her mom. Don’t worry, Remus had told her. He hadn’t exactly said not to try and get in touch. Her mom could send a message back via Wes. No one at the Free Company need know about it at all. What harm could it do?

  The cab dipped into Crossways’ tunnel system.

  “Where do you live?” Kitty asked. “I hear that Saturn is the best real estate.”

  Saturn was one of the two independent wheels, about as far from the core of the station as you could go.

  “Yes it is, and no, not there. Way too expensive for a grunt like me. I live on the spindle, but not on the fashionable levels, low down, just above the service levels and the power core. It’s the only way to get a bit more space for your money. Garrick owns the quarters and he gives us a good deal. Several of the single guys live there. Syke’s place is two levels above me, bigger, though, and he’s got a window.”

  “A window! That wouldn’t suit everyone.”

  “It would suit me. Great view of the stars from down there, because you’re below the main rings.”

  The tub-cab came to a halt after several twists and turns and Wes jumped out, offering Kitty his hand. She took it to be polite.

  “Regular elevators, I’m afraid. Sometimes have to wait a minute or two for one, but there are two decompression doors between here and home, so no antigrav shafts. There’s a bank of comm booths over there if you need to send your message before we go down.”

  “I do, thanks. Could I have the answer routed through you?”

  “Of course.” He fistbumped her to transfer his personal data address.

  In the comm booth she smoothed the front of her dress and ran her fingers through her hair, then pressed record.

  “Hi, Mom. How are you? I wanted to let you know not to worry. I’m on assignment and it might be a while before I can come and see you. You’ll probably be back home, fit and well before I get Earthside again, but I want you to know that I’m thinking about you, and that I love you. Here’s a code for your reply. Let me know how you’re getting on.” She blew a kiss at the camera and waved. “Love you lots.”

  As the record symbol winked out she wiped the corners of her eyes.

  “Done?” Wes asked.

  “Yeah. How long will it take?”

  “Hard to tell. Communications have been up and down for the last week or so. Word is that one of the megacorps has targeted us, but our guys keep rerouting the data packets to get around the blockages. Could be as quick as three days each way, or a lot slower.”

  “Well, you let me know as soon as you get an answer?”

  “Of course. Your mom, eh? I heard your recording. You forgot to punch the privacy baffle.”

  Had she? A fine spy she’d make.

  “My mom’s got Ren-Parry Syndrome. She’s having treatment, but I worry. You know?”

  “Yes, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know as soon as I have an answer.” He guided her toward a bank of elevators.

  Doors opened and Kitty followed Wes into the compartment. It had seats on three sides and hanging straps in the center for standing passengers. Wes and Kitty shared a strap, their
hands entwined. The elevator shot downward at a speed that made Kitty’s stomach lurch, but it decelerated smoothly before each stop. Finally Wes said, “This is ours,” and she followed him out onto a gray landing, dimly lit.

  “No expense spared, huh?”

  Wes grinned. “No expense at all, but at least it’s not attractive to the local kids. There are much more interesting places to hang out.”

  Wes went to the third door down and passed his handpad over the doorplate. “Home sweet home.”

  The room was square with a sofa and a screen. One corner had a countertop with a hotspot on it for cooking and there was a table folded flat to the wall, the kind that usually had a couple of chairs tucked away behind it. A door, half-open, led into a bedroom. Kitty could see the foot of a bed, another door into a san-unit and concealed closets. Everything was neat.

  “Are you always this tidy, or were you planning on company?” she asked.

  “I was hoping, but it’s easier to stay tidy if you clean up as you go.”

  Kitty thought of her own cast-off clothing on the floor of her cabin, dropped as she’d rushed to find something to wear. One day she’d get the hang of clearing up as she went.

  “Give me a few moments to get rid of the uniform.” Wes tapped his chest. “Feel free to call up something on the screen. I have a subscription service.”

  He disappeared into the bedroom and she heard the shower start up. Subscription service be damned. She needed a little distraction in her life right now. She pushed open the bedroom door, unclipped the shoulders on the sheath dress and let it fall to the ground along with her underwear. Quickly she slipped beneath the silky bed cover and pulled it up to her chin.

  The sound of the shower was replaced by the whoosh of the dryer. When the door opened Wes was completely naked.

  His eyes widened when he saw her in the bed.

  She took in the smooth brown skin, the muscles of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the flatness of his belly, and the definite un-flatness of what lay below as it began to respond to his thoughts.

  She let the cover drop.

  Ben tried not to let his frustration show. Everyone was doing their best, but tracking the gate records for the missing ark was proving more difficult than expected. Mother Ramona had a team of hackers on it, but the most recent potential lead had proved fruitless. It shouldn’t be this difficult unless someone had deliberately obscured the ark’s transit.

  It was a relief from the tension of waiting to make the run to Olyanda in the Solar Wind with Cara. He left Gupta in charge of security in Blue Seven, but brought along Ronan and Yan Gwenn, who mentioned Dido Kennedy twice in conversation, which was effusive for the normally quiet engineer. Either Kennedy, or her jump drive, must have made quite an impression.

  Ben had thought long and hard before adding Kitty Keely to the crew. She’d passed Ronan’s psych evaluation, so there was no real reason not to, though he suspected Cara didn’t altogether trust her. Keely had previously been on the same side as the mercenaries, so might be a help in persuading them that the Free Company was on the level.

  Also he wanted to give her another chance to try handling Solar Wind in foldspace. With Gen raising babies they’d need another pilot-Navigator who could handle a jumpship. Kitty was inexperienced, but there was a first time for everything. The principle was the same as gate navigation except you had to find the exit point without a beacon. Theoretically all Navigators should be able to do it, but in practice only a tiny percentage could. If Kitty proved to be one of those, that would be a bonus.

  Few pilot-Navigators ever got the opportunity to fly the Folds freestyle. Jumpships were rare and gave twice the opportunity for disaster because without a prescribed gate point for entry and exit it was like entering the mythical Forest of Despair without a path to follow. You couldn’t even leave a trail of breadcrumbs, since the last thing you wanted to do was to try and retrace your steps. You had to focus on your destination while avoiding all the monsters.

  Unfortunately, foldspace seemed to throw even more monsters at you when flying freestyle. One day, if he had time, he’d like to make a study of the things that inhabited the Folds. Imaginary was the official stance, but he didn’t think they all were. His imagination wasn’t that good.

  Ben’s theories were crystallizing even more since that torpedo had cut through the Solar Wind last time out. The swirling creatures of the void were way too complex to have come from his own imagination. The detail manifesting from the shadows wasn’t even something he wanted to think about. Sometimes they were small and otter-like, but last time a single creature had manifested as a long, snake-like dragon, perfect in every detail from the color of its eyes to the prehensile claws on the end of its beard. He’d asked Cara, but she hadn’t seen it. Gen, however, had muttered something about a big snaky thing, so she undoubtedly saw something similar.

  What if the creatures were real? What if nothing was real in foldspace, but at the same time, everything was?

  Ben let Kitty take Solar Wind through the gate into the Folds without using the jump drive. She managed it without a flutter using the ship’s nav systems in conjunction with her own psi-tech capabilities.

  Ronan, sitting at systems, begins the count. The quicker they get out of foldspace, the better. Ben sees the seconds begin to rack up on the forward screen.

  “All right, Kitty?” he asks.

  She’s following gate procedure correctly, but that’s not what he needs her to do. She has to learn to connect through the jump drive to the currents of foldspace. Ben remembers his own first time, working in tandem with Eve Moyo, out on the Rim. Eve acted as den mother to all the new Monitor operatives straight out of basic training. She’d thrown him in the deep end to sink or swim. He’d swum, found the line, and after that had become standby pilot for one of the two jumpships their division needed for fast-response work.

  Will sink or swim work for Kitty?

  He reaches forward and switches off the connection to the next jump gate, her safety net. She has a brief moment of panic, but he says, “Link with me. I won’t let you get lost.”

  He feels her presence in his head. No amount of theory can prepare for this kind of experience. The creatures come again. There seem to be more of them this time and they’re manifesting more strongly. They are furred and sleek, like eel-shaped otters. They swirl through the air like silk and appear, ghost-like, through the skin of the flight deck. They curl around and back on themselves, nosing into instrument panels, sliding past Cara and Ronan, who don’t seem to see them, though Ronan is talking to someone or something that Ben can’t see and Cara has her eyes closed and is sitting very still, hands squeezed into fists, her knuckles white.

  One of the otter-things passes right through Kitty, but she doesn’t flinch. Can’t she see it?

  “Okay, Kitty. Find the line,” Ben says.

  “What line? Where?”

  He feels her on the edge of panic. Her hands freeze on the control panels. She hesitates. The seconds tick past. This isn’t going to work. Why can’t she see when the line to Olyanda shines so clear to him?

  “Two minutes-thirty,” Ronan calls.

  Ben glances at the timer on the forward screen.

  “Kitty!” he says, sharply, but she doesn’t respond. Her eyes have that thousand-meter stare.

  He takes over from her, fixes his will on where he wants to be, finds the line and nudges the Solar Wind toward her destination, the space around Olyanda—not somewhere that he wants to gatecrash without permission.

  With a pop that wasn’t audible, but felt as if it should have been, the Solar Wind emerged into realspace two hours from the hot zone.

  “Elapsed time: one hour forty-one minutes,” Ronan called. “Logged.”

  Ben swallowed rising nausea and shook his head to clear it. Working out the time differential seemed to help clear his he
ad. A ratio of one to thirty-eight this time. Much lower than last time, maybe because they’d entered foldspace via a gate.

  There was always a dangerous moment of disorientation coming out of the Folds. Bursting into a newly militarized zone without identifying yourself wasn’t advisable. Oleg Staple, formerly in charge of Crossways’ hornets, the defensive fleet that was one of the station’s deterrents, had set up a blockade to protect Olyanda from the sky while Leah Nolan, formerly head of Garrick’s guard before Syke, commanded troops on the ground and managed the mining engineers.

  Once he’d established they were in no immediate danger from friendly fire and he’d heard Cara broadcast their ID, Ben turned to Kitty. “Did you follow my line?” he asked.

  She looked at him blankly. “How do you mean?”

  “You felt the way I pulled us back out into realspace, right?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t see where you were going until you got there.”

  “We’ll try it again on the way home.”

  “What if I never get it?” Her voice rose in pitch. “I’m not a Psi-1 Navigator like you.”

  “Gen’s a Psi-3. She got it first time out. Did you see the void creatures?”

  “I saw—I don’t know—something.”

  “What did they look like to you?”

  “Wisps of smoke. Blood in water.”

  “No details? No faces?”

  She shook her head. “Just shapes, appearing and disappearing. One of them looked like a teacher who used to bully me. Good thing they’re not real.”

  “What if they are?”