Tyche's Flight (Tyche's Journey Book 1)

by Richard Parry

  “I thought you said,” said El, “that running would make them follow us.”

  “Yeah,” said Nate. “That’s right.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” said El, “but I’m considering mutiny right now.”

  “It’ll all make sense,” said Nate. “Or we’ll be dead soon and it won’t matter.”

  “That is not how you give an inspirational speech,” she said.

  “I’ll show you inspirational,” he said, and keyed the Endless Drive controls.

  The recycled, pure air of the Tyche, like water on his face. The sword in his hand, metal forged by dead kings, now alive in his hand. The stars in the sky spoke to him, their electric whispers the chorus of angels. The rush of movement, speed beyond measure. His mind, a thousand thoughts at once. He was everything. He was the universe.

  They jumped.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Kohl stood still, a brick mortared to the floor, eyes wide, mouth open.

  Grace stood up, her bleeding fingers around the hilt of her sword. A yank, and it came free from the floor, a soft ring echoing from the steel as she held it up. She twirled it in a lazy circle, post-jump calm around her like a blanket, and cleared her throat. “These jumps aren’t your thing, are they?”

  Kohl stepped sideways, two steps, turned in place, and spoke to the wall. “Collective. The sound of rain is brittle.”

  “It kinda is,” said Grace. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” She took a step towards him, then hissed as her body lit with pain. Her back. Her side. Her arm. The hand that held her sword trembled.

  Grace Grace Grace Grace Grace.

  Grace. Together! Grace.

  “You keep saying my name,” said Grace, “like you understand what it means.” She took another step, this one a careful shuffle, easing her body into motion. “You keep talking like you know what it means to be me.”

  “Together,” said Kohl, then took a wild swing. His arm whooshed through the air, and through chance or purpose, he was facing her again. His jaw was slack. “Members are the same.” He blinked twice, then his eyes focused on her. “Gracie.”

  “Asshole,” she said.

  “Are you still having fun?” he said.

  “More than you,” she said. Her face was wet with sweat, so she ran the back of her arm across her forehead. “You sound pretty fucked up, Kohl.”

  “I do? I do.” He banged a big hand against the side of his head once, twice, three times. “It’s inside me, Grace. I can’t get it out.” He shuddered. “Collect us together.”

  “I know, Kohl,” she said. Grace was finding it hard to move. On her best day, taking October Kohl in an even fight would have been impossible. The man was built for one thing. She’d met a few like him. How Nate had got him to crew on the Tyche was anyone’s guess; men like Kohl wanted war. He wasn’t as fast as her. With her sword and a good wind at her back, she might have been able to run him through as he took her head off her shoulders. “You know, I thought I’d be able to get down here. Kill the creature on the ship. I didn’t know the creature was you.”

  TOGETHER.

  Kohl lunged at her, and she managed a quick, stumbling sidestep.

  Grace.

  She backed away, feet whisking across the metal deck, sword held low and ready.

  Grace!

  That time, she saw the fucking thing. Not with her eyes, because it was in Kohl, in his back, but she knew where it was. Exactly where. She watched his face spasm as the insect inside him burrowed. Up, a wiggle, then a centimeter surge.

  Kohl screamed, then coughed. “Help,” he said, “me.” One of his hands found the side of his face, fingers like talons, and he raked four lines of blood down his cheek. “Collective!”

  Grace took another step away. Her heel kicked against against something solid, her back a moment later. One of the supports running floor to ceiling. She edged around it, never taking her eyes of Kohl. “When we jump,” she said, “it … disconnects you, doesn’t it?”

  “Alive,” he agreed. “The structure.” Then he screamed again, a short, sharp sound, before he grunted, doubling over. She glimpsed a lump in his back, a quiver of motion before he stood upright again. “We begin?”

  “I get you,” said Grace. “Our jump tech doesn’t work for your world view.”

  If they could jump one more time, she could get close enough. While the bug was distracted. She looked at the thick line of Kohl’s neck. Felt the cutting purpose of her sword, where and how it would strike. What Nate would say when he found his headless crew member. What Nate would feel.

  “Captain,” said Kohl. “Not there!”

  These fucking things could read her mind. They could grab the thoughts from her fucking head. There was one other time when just a handful of humans with that power had destroyed everything, and they—

  The solar wind caressed her, a warm blanket of possibility. The Tyche was empty. The Tyche was full. It was a glass, brimming with amber liquid. It tasted sweet. She was everything. She was the universe.

  They jumped.

  • • •

  The blaring of an alarm, flat, grating against Grace’s ears, snapped her out of any post-jump rush. A red strobing light filled the hold, an automated voice saying Gravitational anomaly. Significant mass detected. Do not engage Endless Drive. Do not—

  They jumped.

  • • •

  October Kohl was screaming. Grace could see the source of his pain, the noise—

  GRACE GRACE GRACE GRACE GRACE.

  —coming from his mouth and that thing in his back. Now as high as his shoulder blades. Almost at his neck. And then, into his brain. It had taken over like a cranked up co-pilot, and was on to the next phase. Ejecting the real pilot.

  You need to take six steps. Those six steps will bring you to October Kohl, and then you will end his pain.

  Grace raised her sword, placing her feet on the deck with great care. Her breath was even in her chest. Grace’s sword was trembling, her knuckles white with the strain of holding it. Her sensei said tension would hold her strike back from being true, but she had no other option. She was hurt too damn bad. Kohl had hurt her so much. And now it was time to return that favor. So the thing inside him wouldn’t hurt anyone else on the ship.

  Make this your best day, Grace Gushiken.

  She ran. Towards October Kohl and his pain. Towards the thing mounting his spine, eating through his flesh. Towards the end of any together that this ship held for her.

  Kohl raised his arms to ward the strike, the thing inside him pulling his arms like a jerky puppeteer.

  Grace ignored it. She kept the movement going until she was past Kohl. Past his eyes, past his thoughts, her back facing his back.

  Remember.

  Her eyes were closed, her sword high. She turned in place, her sword — a better slashing weapon than stabbing, but good enough for the job — leading with all her will. Arm outstretched, stance canted forward, she stabbed October Kohl through the back.

  Through the creature buried there. And, with a little luck — wasn’t this a lucky ship? The Goddess of Luck? — missing his spine, avoiding puncturing his lungs, and keeping him alive.

  Kohl’s body dropped to the deck, felled like a tree. Blood ran from his back, but he wasn’t screaming, and the voice in her head was gone. Not just silent, but absent. No more together, no more Grace this, Grace that.

  She dropped her sword with a clang. Bent over, a wave of nausea hitting her, took three deep breaths, and began the slow process of dragging Kohl back to the ready room.

  Because, when all was said and done, he was family.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Absalom Delta. The planet, big and blue, sat outside the cockpit windows.

  The Ezeroc ship, that huge hunk of rock, also sat in space.

  “We jumped. Back here,” said El. “Didn’t we just leave this party?”

  “That we did,” said Nate. “We left our coats. Had to come back an
d get ’em.” He worked the console, bringing the link up to the Gladiator. What was left of the Gladiator. Main drives functioning. Nothing at Helm control worth shit, unless you only wanted to turn starboard. Weapon tubes, dry; PDCs, empty. No atmosphere, just a big engine strapped to a reactor.

  Perfect.

  “El,” said Nate, “these Ezeroc assholes can read minds.”

  “I got that part of the memo,” she said.

  “I’m going to tell you to do something, but I won’t tell you before I do it. It’s just going to pop up on the holo there.” He nodded at the holo stage between them. “It’s important you don’t question what it says, even if it looks suicidal.”

  “I don’t know if I’m okay with this,” she said.

  “It’s not a committee,” said Nate.

  “What? No, not that,” said El. “You can’t fly worth shit. You make lousy calls.”

  He gave her a brilliant smile. “That’s why I’ve got the best damn pilot in the universe,” he said. “I’ll make the lousy calls. The impossible shots. The hoops you can’t shoot. The—”

  “I get you,” she said. “I know what you’re saying. I get it. You’ll fuck something up.”

  “Great!” said Nate. “Here’s the thing. I need you to unfuck the things I fuck up. You good with that?”

  “No,” she said. “But I think we’re marginally more likely to survive this your way. Roll the dice, boss.”

  Nate blinked. “Did I … did you show a minor display of confidence in my abilities?”

  “I’m tired,” said El. “My judgement is impaired.”

  The Ezeroc ship blinked closer. No drive flare, no spatial distortion field, the thing just skipped over space like it didn’t exist. It was right outside their hull now, floating in space. Hmm. No big rocks coming at them, so what were they doing?

  “I wish I knew how they did that,” said El. “We could do with tech like that.”

  The comm chirped. “Did you guys just see the Ezeroc ship jump towards us?” Hope sounded breathless.

  El looked at Nate, then down at the comm. “Hope? Are you listening in to the bridge?”

  “What? First, it’s not a bridge, it’s a flight deck. Second, no. Of course not! I’m listening in to what’s going on in the cargo bay.” She paused. “They just … the energy readings are saying they use an Endless Drive, kinda. Sorta. But not.”

  “What’s going on in the hold, Hope?” said Nate. “What’s going on in my ship?”

  “So anyway,” said Hope, “it’s a bit weird? Because what’s going on in the cargo bay suggests they don’t react well to Endless Drives.”

  “What is going on in the cargo bay, Hope?” said Nate.

  “Fly the ship,” said Hope. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Hah.” The comm clicked off.

  Don’t react well to Endless Drives.

  Nate wondered what else they didn’t react well to. There was something going on in his cargo bay—

  They infect people through various means.

  —and that meant they were running out of time.

  “You feel like sunbathing?” said Nate. He clicked the comm, brought up the link to the Gladiator again.

  “What?” said El. Then her face paled. “Nate? No. No. Nate? Don’t—”

  He sent the commands to the Gladiator before she finished talking.

  They jumped.

  • • •

  The holo was bright red, the flight deck bathed in the color. The strobe of it hurt Nate’s head. The windows outside had gone almost black through auto tint. He’d jumped them right next to the Absalom star.

  Right next to was an exaggeration; they were parked about thirty million kilometers from the star itself. What they were right next to was Absalom’s first planet. A barren, smoldering cinder, bathed in constant radiation. It was a death zone. Walking outside down there would turn you to a pillar of ash. The Tyche was capable of withstanding the temperature here fine, thanks, as it was much less than the heat of re-entry, but the Absalom star was still a raging ball of fire at this distance.

  The Tyche was speaking to him. She was trying to warn him. He’d brought them too close to the planet. Far, far too close. They had moments before the rock swatted them out of the sky.

  Gravitational anomaly.

  “That’s right girl,” said Nate. “Gravitational anomaly is right. You bet your socks.”

  Significant mass detected.

  Back in spaceship school or whatever El had attended, they probably gave a whole semester on why using Endless technology next to a gravity well was a bad idea. Nate hadn’t been to those classes. Never even went to that school. All he knew was that using the negative space field of the Tyche this close to the gravity well would — best case — burn it out. Worst case? It’d peel the hull from the ship faster than a monkey with an orange.

  Do not engage Endless Drive.

  She was saying that because peeling the hull would be bad. But the gamble was worth it. First, because the Ezeroc weren’t here. The sky was full of planet, but it wasn’t full of the Ezeroc ship. When he’d asked El about sunbathing, she’d assumed — like he’d hoped — that he would take them to Absalom’s star. They could get pretty close before they melted to slag. She probably thought he had some crazy plan to take them on a run around the star, confuse the bugs with radiation or whatever. Nah.

  His plan was far worse than that.

  Do not—

  They jumped.

  • • •

  Absalom Delta was outside their window again. The Tyche’s red warning lights were gone. The hull had not been peeled from them.

  That was a plus.

  “Captain!” said Hope, over the comm. “What have you done?”

  “I don’t know, Hope, you’re the Engineer,” said Nate.

  “You’ve … the Drive’s down,” she said. “We can’t jump.”

  “How long until we can?” said Nate.

  “Never,” she said.

  “Never never?” he said.

  “Never as in, not today,” she said. “There’s nothing there responding to hails. There’s … no … fuck,” she finished. The comm clicked off.

  “Now I know we are all going die,” said El. “I know we will die, because Hope never swears.”

  “She’s learning,” said Nate. “This is all going according to plan.” He fed a flight plan — more of a rough guide, if he was fair on the quality of his work — into the comm, ready to send to El. He keyed the comm again. “Grace.”

  There was a long delay. Her voice, when it came back, was strained, her words clipped short. “Nate.”

  “What’s going on in the cargo bay?” he said.

  “Kohl and I,” she said. There was a pause. “We were talking. Working things out.”

  “Okay,” said Nate. “I’m going to prep for burn. Are you strapped in?”

  “Give me thirty seconds,” she said.

  “You’ve got ten,” said Nate, as the Ezeroc ship snapped into view outside the window. The asteroid was charred, pieces of it still glowing hot from its trip to the star.

  “I need thirty seconds,” said Grace, “or one of us will die.”

  “Cap,” said El, “they’re coming towards us. Some kind of conventional movement this time. No jumping.”

  “Ha! Take that, fuckers!” said Nate. Sending them close to the sun might have popped their version of an Endless Drive. Now that would be good news. Conventional thrust all the way. “El?”

  “Cap.”

  “Slow burn,” he said. “Nice and smooth. Suave.”

  “How do you even fly suave? That’s not…” She trailed off, hands on the sticks. The rumble of the Tyche’s fusion drives kicked in, the ship jerking forward with a start. She spun the ship in space, the motion smooth and controlled, to run them away from the Ezeroc.

  “Twenty seconds,” said Nate to the comm. He could hear his voice echoed over Grace’s comm as she made the ready room behind him. Clamps s
napping as either she or Kohl was belted in. “Ten seconds,” he said.

  More snapping. “God dammit!” she yelled.

  “Grace?” He craned his neck, but couldn’t see them.

  “Go!” she said. “We’re in. We’re safe.”

  Nate keyed the comm to El, and gave her the flight path.

  Her eyes widened, but she said nothing. She kicked the throttles to the stops and held on.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  El didn’t know whether to believe the whole alien-insects-that-can-read-your-mind thing. The idea was preposterous, like being told that Santa Claus was fake when you were three years old, at your own birthday party, with your face covered in cake and happiness. In this particular instance, her face wasn’t covered in anything like cake or happiness — happiness had taken the last exit, and was on its way to the casino with a pocket full of coins.

  She shook her head. Exhaustion. Too much stick time, not enough rack time. The flight path Nate had given her was coming through in drips, one set of coordinates after another. El couldn’t plan. She couldn’t make the most of the Tyche, bringing the ship in soaring swoops and arcs through space. It was all hard motions, the sticks clattering against their rests as she jerked them left, right, up, or down.

  In this case, down.

  The Ezeroc ship was big, huge in their window. The Tyche was pitching a fit, alarms all over the holo, COLLISION WARNING this or IMPACT IMMINENT that. Rocks were sprouting from the surface of the asteroid like pollen rising on the breeze, ten, a hundred, a thousand. Nate’s path took them down, down to the surface. Down to where they’d already been. Down to where El had pulled them out from before.

  The way she saw it, this was the third time she’d taken the Tyche through Absalom Delta’s sky with rocks burning around her. The first time, it had been a rush, something she could brag about. No pilots she knew were crazy enough to do it. Few had the skill. Second time, they were running, the Tyche straining for deep space and the clutch of an Endless Jump. This third time felt like it could be the last time. El had the tiger by the tail, and that tiger was angry as fuck.