Crossways: A Psi-Tech Novel

by Jacey Bedford

  “Never mind. Have you tried imagining that it’s not real, that it doesn’t exist?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing’s real in foldspace. You’re not real, your shuttlecraft isn’t real. Everything’s fluid, changeable. The shadow is not real.”

  “While you’ve been talking it’s crept toward us by another ten centimeters. Does that sound like it’s not real?”

  “Okay, we’re coming to get you.”

  Ben nudges the Solar Wind ever closer to the shadow and as he does so the feeling of dread grows.

  “I’m not liking this,” Gwala says.

  “I thought it was just me.” Wenna tries to keep her voice light, but it cracks.

  “Cara?” Ben asks.

  “All of that and more.”

  As Solar Wind nudges closer, the shadow billows like a cloud.

  “That’s as close as we can get,” Wenna says. “The shuttle’s embedded too deeply.”

  “We can see you,” Garrick says. “You’re close, but not close enough.”

  “Do you trust me?” Ben asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Then all you have to do is step through the front screen of the shuttle and cross foldspace like you were taking a stroll in the park. You can step straight through Solar Wind’s skin.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s likely!”

  “Everyone doubts.”

  “Shall we suit up?” Cara asks.

  “Not necessary. They’ll never be able to trust us if we don’t trust ourselves. As soon as we break the integrity of their shuttle they’ll choke on vacuum because that’s what they believe will happen.”

  “So we just step out of the air lock?”

  “More or less, yes, but we don’t need the air lock. We just go out through the Solar Wind’s skin, pass through it like the missile did, like the void dragons do.”

  “And what happens if you don’t come back?” Wenna says.

  Ben shrugs. “Believe that we will.”

  “It’s all right, Wenna. Ben’s done this before.” Cara grabs Ben’s hand. “Let’s do it.”

  They push off together, rise to the ceiling and through it into the wonder of foldspace, momentum carrying them forward toward the shuttle.

  *The look on their faces . . .* Cara says as they float toward the small craft, still hand-in-hand.

  *Priceless,* Ben says. The skin of the shuttle gives way beneath them and they land gently in the small space.

  “Oh, gods!” Kitty collapses into the pilot’s couch. “You can’t . . . You didn’t.”

  “Can and did,” Ben says. “It’s the only way out. Or are you going to sit here and wait for that to catch up with you?”

  The aft section of the shuttle, including the hatch, is wreathed in what looks like dense black smoke.

  “I’m with you,” Garrick says.

  “I . . . can’t,” Kitty says. “Couldn’t you have brought pressure suits?”

  “There wasn’t time.” Ben eyes the tangible darkness. It’s almost touching the back of the couch Kitty has sunk into. “It’s up to you, Kitty. It’s save-yourself time.”

  “Save myself for what, an air lock accident?” She looked at Garrick. “A hundred-year sleep to wake, when and where? My mother abandoned. Alphacorp—”

  “You have to help yourself,” Ben says. “Come on. There’s still time.”

  “Why would you care after what I’ve done?”

  “Why not?”

  The darkness roils toward them.

  Ben links hands with Cara again. Cara grabs Garrick and Ben holds out his free hand for Kitty.

  She hesitates.

  “Come on, Kitty.”

  He reaches out for her, but the darkness beats him to it. A tendril swirls around her waist, draws her into its embrace.

  Her eyes widen.

  “Go!” she mouths. Without a sound, she is gone.

  “Quickly,” Ben says as the darkness boils toward them. They push off through the shuttle skin and dive for the Solar Wind, landing in a heap on the flight deck floor.

  “What the hell was that thing?” Garrick asks.

  “Nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Ben says. “The void dragon calls it other. Let’s hope we never see anything like it again.”

  Without waiting to be told, Wenna fires the thrusters and Solar Wind slides away just as the shadow swallows the nose of the shuttle and balloons outward toward them.

  “I am not going to do that again. Ever,” Cara says, dusting herself off as if some essence of shadow is clinging to her buddysuit.

  Garrick rolls onto his knees. “I’m just grateful to be here instead of there.”

  Ben changes places with Wenna. “Now you know how easy it is to slip outside accidentally, you’d better strap in for the journey home.”

  “Kitty . . .” Cara says.

  He shrugs. “She made her choice. Sometimes all you can do is hold out a hand. It’s up to them whether they take it. Let’s go home.”

  Just for old times’ sake, Ben hit realspace only twenty klicks from Crossways.

  “Welcome back, Solar Wind.”

  “Thank you, Crossways Control. Who won the bet this time?”

  “Briggs.”

  “Well, don’t bet next time. I’ll be sticking to the rules in the future.”

  “Copy that, Solar Wind.”

  “Did you get him?” Mother Ramona cut in.

  “He’s here, safe and sound,” Cara said, waving Garrick to the comm.

  “Thank the stars!” Mother Ramona was laughing and crying at the same time.

  “Hey, Mona, have I got a story for you.” Garrick’s voice trembled, but he put on a brave face.

  Ben brought Solar Wind into Port 22 and dropped her gently onto the landing pad. “Thank you, everyone. Let’s hope the next journey isn’t so unusual.”

  Gwala laughed. “With you, Benjamin? It’s always unusual. You are one crazy son of a bitch, but you’re a lucky one, and that counts for a lot.”

  “I might just stick to admin for a while,” Wenna said.

  *I’m with you wherever you go.* Cara reached out a hand.

  Ben took her hand and kissed her fingertips. *Thank you. You’re forgiven.*

  *For what?*

  *Your awful coffee habit.*

  She slapped his upper arm and he grinned at her, as happy as he’d ever been. She was here, she was staying.

  Mother Ramona ran the whole length of Port 22 in high heels to fling herself into Garrick’s arms.

  *It’s funny,* Cara said. *I thought theirs was a marriage of convenience, a joining together of two criminal organizations for mutual profit and maybe a little sex on the side, but they really do love each other.*

  *They really do.*

  Captain Syke stood alone, halfway along the hangar, neither with the gate guard nor seemingly wanting to approach.

  “Better break the bad news to Syke,” Ben said.

  “I think he knows,” Cara said as Syke turned away. “Kitty certainly got under his skin. I keep wondering if there was anything more we could have done. Now I know she was an Alphacorp plant I think back to all the times she’s been around when something was going down. How much information did she pass on? Yet when it came to getting the ark back she held off and let us retrieve Etta from Sentier-4.”

  “I think she let herself be caught rather than kill Etta.”

  “I think so, too,” Cara said. “She knew Ronan and Jussaro were Empaths. They were bound to sense her intent. She was certainly conflicted.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t save her.”

  “But this time you’re not blaming yourself.”

  “Not this time.”

  Mother Ramona and Garrick caught up with them and they were swept up in news and plans.
>
  With the extra ships from Crossways, Oleg Staple had soundly defeated the Trust fleet and sent the survivors running back for the far gate. The S-LOGs were already full of the news that Alphacorp had attacked Crossways. Some of the spin was Alphacorp’s and phrased in terms of: Criminal Gangs Evade Capture. Others were pushing the independent point of view: Alphacorp Act of Aggression on Indie Station.

  Nan had been in touch, as had Jamundi, and both had been reassured that not only was Crossways still in business, but that their position was stronger now that they were in orbit around Olyanda.

  “I’m not saying we’re home free yet,” Garrick said. “But we’ve made a start. We’ve challenged the old order and made way for the new.”

  Cara twisted her fingers with Ben’s. *To the new order, then.*

  *And whatever it brings next.*

  Crowder turned his back on the garden, relaxed into his float chair and watched reports of the Trust fleet limping home. At least the survivors were coming home, which was more than could be said for Alphacorp’s ships. Akiko Yamada must be spitting feathers over the trap Benjamin had sprung. It would take months, if not years, to get their fleet home again, depending on the resources Alphacorp was willing to commit.

  They’d tried the Benjamin Maneuver, dragging a ship through foldspace in the wake of a jump-drive vessel, but something had gone wrong and both ships had been lost, which made them reluctant to try again. They had choices, none of them good. They could build another gate, but Benjamin would be waiting for that and would surely destroy it. Or they could send in jump-drive lifeboats to lift off the crews and abandon the ships themselves, an expensive last resort, but better to lose the ships and retrieve the crews than commit them to the long, long sublight journey to the next nearest gate.

  With the situation as it was—colonies defecting, platinum supplies dwindling—there would be cutbacks. Alphacorp was losing its grip. That was not an entirely unappealing situation from the Trust’s point of view, as long as they didn’t follow down the same route.

  The Trust had taken a beating in the skies above Olyanda, but for once he wasn’t the whipping boy. In fact Tori LeBon had sent a message to say that the major shareholders were extremely upset and there had been several calls for the chairman’s resignation. Crowder smiled to himself. He’d engineered a win-win situation. If the trust had regained Olyanda he’d have revealed himself as the architect of the plan. The failure, however, was all falling on Hunt’s head. The chairman’s loss could only be his gain. Everything he’d warned them about had happened. He’d soon be back in favor. Tori LeBon had practically promised it. His way was clear.

  Time to regroup and rethink. This wasn’t over yet. Benjamin had made it personal with that third dart.

  Crowder eased his back into a better position. His right thigh had a numb patch that ached abominably. How could something be numb and painful at the same time? Permanent nerve damage, his physician said, and since he was lucky to be alive he shouldn’t grumble.

  Stefan appeared at his elbow with his pills and a tumbler of water. He popped a painkiller.

  “What do you think, Stefan?” He nodded to the holographic readout.

  “I think you’ll use the opportunity to the Trust’s best advantage, sir.”

  “Right answer, boy. Right answer.”

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