Crossways

by Jacey Bedford

  Lowenbrun rolled over and sat up.

  Ben steadied him. “Crowder got van Blaiden to get rid of the highly inconvenient second ark that was in transit to Olyanda, and unless I’m very much mistaken, van Blaiden subcontracted the job out to Alexandrov, and Alexandrov hired Lowenbrun for his Navigation skills.” He took out the image of the void dragon. “Recognize this, Lowenbrun?”

  “Shit! That’s one of them.”

  “Give the man a gold star, he passed the test.”

  Jessop stared at the image, uncomprehending. “What’s that got to do with—”

  “Lowenbrun can pilot a jumpship. That right, Lowenbrun?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not going to—ever again.”

  “Tell us what happened.”

  “That bastard hired me to pilot a ship through the Folds. I was supposed to lose the cargo. Insurance claim he said. Offered a small fortune. Seemed like a good deal. The pilots were supposed to be in on it, too.

  “I didn’t figure Alexandrov for a real Monitor, but he looked like a good fake. I thought he’d pass any inspection. He did, of course. Nothing like disguising yourself as something you are. We boarded the ark at Dromgoole Hub under the pretense of a spot inspection. They took his flyer on board, no problem. I stayed hidden in the flyer while the ark transited into the Folds, then Alexandrov called me up to the flight deck.

  “It was obvious right from the start the other pilots weren’t in on it. Even more obvious when Alexandrov killed them. By that time I knew damn well what the cargo was. Cryo pods. People. I don’t know how many.”

  “Thirty thousand,” Ben said.

  Lowenbrun closed his eyes. “Just kill me now.”

  “What happened?”

  “We abandoned them. In the Folds.” His voice broke. “I tried . . . No, I didn’t try hard enough. I should have let Alexandrov shoot me right there. He wasn’t a Navigator. I was the only one who could get us out. He’d have died in foldspace with the ship. He deserved that at least.” Lowenbrun shook his head. “He forced me to fly him home, out of the Folds. I could have killed both of us. I should have, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to die. I slipped away at Rio Hub and hitched a ride on a freighter.”

  “And then you went back to where he found you? Smart move,” Ben said.

  “I was going to get Dree and run for the rim, but I lost it. Thirty thousand, you say?”

  “Thirty thousand.”

  “I can’t—” He smeared snot and tears across his face with the heel of his hand. “It’s not just numbers, is it?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “You want me to take him in?” Jess asked. “There may not be a warrant yet, but I can fix that.”

  Ben shook his head, a sick feeling in his gut. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was the last chance the settlers had. “No. We’re going back into the Folds to look for the ark.”

  “They’re gone, Ben,” Jess said. “No one has ever found a missing vessel in foldspace.”

  “No one ever had a void dragon before.”

  “Huh?”

  “Long story. There are things in foldspace, Jess. Things that are not supposed to be real, but they are. Those cryo pods are good for years. I’m not giving up on the settlers without one last try. I’ll take Lowenbrun and a Finder.”

  “No. Nonononono.” Lowenbrun began to shake his head.

  “You don’t have a choice.” Ben gripped his shoulder. “Neither of us has a choice. Let’s call it a chance for redemption.”

  “Get going, Ben,” Jess said. “I can give you thirty minutes head start.”

  “What about them?” Ben nodded toward Jess’ crew.

  “They hated Alexandrov, but that doesn’t mean they love you. I’ll talk them around. But if you’re not out of here in thirty minutes . . .”

  “That’s all we need. Thanks, Jess.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Clean him up and find him some clothes.” Ben shoved Lowenbrun up Solar Wind’s ramp behind the new pilots and handed him to Hilde and Gwala at the top. “I don’t want to see him again until he’s completely sober. I don’t care how you do it, just don’t kill him in the process.”

  “Leave him to us.” Hilde pushed the unfortunate pilot toward sick bay. “You need any more information? I can work wonders with a stiff-bristled brush.”

  “Don’t scare the man. The stiff-bristled brush was my fallback plan.”

  He heard Cara stifle a laugh behind him. “I take it that Jake Lowenbrun is not what you were expecting to find.”

  “I don’t know what I was expecting. Certainly not a shootout with Alexandrov.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not going to waste tears on Alexandrov, but . . .” He shrugged. “Killing someone . . . anyone . . . even a bastard like Alexandrov . . . does things to your insides.”

  “I know.” She put one hand to his face and he leaned into it for a moment.

  “Okay.” He kissed her palm and took a deep breath as Solar Wind rose on her antigravs.

  “Get into the mess,” he told the pilots. “Strap in. We’ll be entering foldspace from the upper atmosphere.”

  *Gen, have you got this?*

  *Got it, Boss. Crossways bound.*

  “Cara, stick with Gen and Jon Moon on the flight deck. As soon as we hit foldspace we’re going to get a visit from a void dragon.”

  “You’re so sure? Why?”

  “Because there are seven people here who can see them, including Lowenbrun and Gen. The big guy won’t miss an opportunity like this. It’s curious. And I’ve got an overdue appointment. I’ve put it off for too long already.”

  “Are you going to face the dragon or face your own fears?”

  “Both.”

  She frowned and nodded.

  “Aren’t you going to try and talk me out of it?”

  She shook her head. “If I thought that was what you wanted, I would, but you don’t. You don’t have a death wish, have you?”

  “No! Gods, no. This may sound weird because I know we’re under stress about so many things, but I’ve got a lot to be thankful for right now: my family, the Free Company . . . and you.”

  “I’m hurt. Only third on your list?”

  For a moment he thought she meant it until her mouth twitched, then she turned deadly serious. “Getting your mojo back is one thing, but you’re not really intending to go hunting the missing ark in the Folds, are you?”

  “I am.”

  “Last time . . .”

  “That’s why I need to make my peace with the void dragon. If I’m going to be any use as a Navigator and pilot I’m going to have to confront it, or at least confront my reaction to it.”

  She stared at him, her face not giving away her thoughts. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’m staying with you. If I connect to you I may be able to anchor you in some kind of reality. I’m not losing you again.”

  His jaw started to move to say no, and then her words sank in. He held her hand and leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the cheek. “Thank you. I can’t let this thing get between me and doing what needs doing. What use is a Navigator who’s too scared to fly the Folds?”

  “You’re not just a Navigator, you know.”

  She was going to give him the self-worth lecture. He’d had it before, from Nan, from Jussaro, and much as he appreciated her efforts, now was not the time.

  “I know, but being a Navigator is an important part of who I am and I don’t intend to let it slip away.”

  She gave him a sharp nod.

  “We need to keep the heat off Gen. Let’s invite the void dragon to join us all in the mess.”

  Cara looked at the five Navigators strapped to the benches against the walls of the mess—Ben, Alia Kazan with Grigor next to her, the Magena sisters, and Esterhazy,
who’d identified as gender neutral and had requested the pronoun “it.”

  The Magenas—Chilaili and Tama—were somewhere between forty and fifty, both Amerind and close enough in looks to be identical twins, though Chilaili cut her hair very short and Tama wore hers in a long braid. The Kazans were polar opposites. Grigor was short, skinny, Caucasian, and probably not as old as his balding head made him look. Alia was statuesque and black, in her mid-thirties with wiry hair pulled back into a tight knot.

  Cara gave each one a mental handshake.

  The door clicked open and the Kazan kids peered in, the girl almost as pale as her dad and the boy deep brown. Alia waved them over and they strapped in between their parents.

  Ben frowned, but Alia shrugged. “Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

  “Your kids have seen void dragons?” Cara asked. “They haven’t even tested for implants yet.”

  “It doesn’t seem to matter about the implant,” Alia said. “Either you see them or you don’t. Must run in the family. Reckon they both have Navigator potential if they find someone to sponsor their implant.”

  “The Free Company will see to it,” Ben said. “We need jumpship pilots.”

  “Obliged to you.” Grigor nodded. “Hear that, kids?”

  *Get ready,* Gen broadcast.

  The transition to foldspace takes Cara by surprise. As soon as Gen says the words, they are plunged into a darkness so absolute that she thinks she’s gone blind. She feels as though she’s floating, but when she checks her harness, she’s still strapped in.

  “Ben?”

  He doesn’t answer, so she reaches out with her mind.

  *Ben?*

  *Can you see them?* he asks.

  *See what?*

  *Otters. No, not quite otters, but long and otter-like. They undulate as if they’re in water.*

  *I can only see blackness. Show me.*

  And then she sees through his eyes. It’s still black but it’s as if black is a natural medium for vision. She sees the shapes, long and sinuous, playfully swimming through the cabin air, turning somersaults for the joy of it, twirling around each other in mad helical spins and then separating to explore something with their snouts. One bumps into her chest, backs off as if surprised, seems to sniff at her, then takes another run and passes through. She can’t feel it.

  *Oooh, that’s weird. They’re like children, exploring new things.*

  She links to all the pilots. They can all see the squirming, rolling otter-kind.

  *Childlike, yes,* Alia says as one bumps noses with her son. *But this one isn’t.*

  A creature enters the mess through the aft bulkhead. Cara can’t see it when she opens her own eyes, but when she sees it through Ben’s it’s quite clear, black on black but with an iridescence that suggests every color of the rainbow and possibly some that she’s never seen before.

  She sees the image from Kennedy’s plasfilm drawing: sea horse head, wings folded against its sinuous body. It’s beautiful, but she suddenly understands Ben’s terror. It’s too familiar where familiarity should play no part in its makeup. It’s a being from another dimension, it shouldn’t bear any resemblance to anything earth-like, yet it does. Its form can only come from human imagination, which means that somewhere, somewhen, the creature has meshed minds with humanity.

  *It’s the fact that it shouldn’t look like something we recognize that disturbs me most,* Ben said. *I keep thinking about all those souls lost in the Folds and wonder if the last thing they saw was this.*

  It swirls around the mess, taking in the Navigators. Cara almost thinks it’s smiling, but only humans treat the baring of teeth as a gesture of friendliness. Is it even possible to interpret the facial expression of such an alien creature as an indicator of its emotional state?

  Ben holds out a hand, palm up, fingers open. Cara can sense that he’s trembling inside, but his hand is steady. The dragon lowers its snout. The prehensile beard snakes out to touch. Ben twitches as the claws connect, but doesn’t jerk back.

  *What are you?* Ben asks, not in words, but in a thought, literally translated simply as *?*

  The dragon replies, again, not in words, but with a concept Ben understands simply as, *I am,* and asks the same *?* of him.

  *I am,* Ben replies, and then he reaches for Cara’s hand and says, *We are.* He tries to say Ben and Cara by putting the essence of who they are to the front of his mind, but the creature doesn’t have language. It doesn’t offer a name. I am is the closest they’re going to get.

  Then . . .

  *Know you,* it says.

  Words.

  *Learn you. Learn your mind thing.* It turns to her. *And yours.*

  Cara remembers something taking her implant. What had Jussaro said?

  *It’s learned from our implants, Ben, ours and Jussaro’s. It’s trying to communicate.*

  *Communicate.* The void dragon echoes. *What is?* The creature looks around at the interior of the flight deck.

  *Ship,* Ben says and pictures safety, air, and warmth.

  *Many.*

  *Many ships? Yes.* Ben pictures ships passing in and out of the Folds. *Must leave. Stay means die,* Ben says.

  The creature doesn’t understand. It asks *?*

  *Cease to be,* Ben says, offering the image of a person winking out to nothing.

  The creature still doesn’t understand. Death is a concept it has never dealt with. How old is this thing?

  *Cease.* The creature projects an image of a ship. Not the Solar Wind, this is smaller, a nipper class transport perhaps, or something older. It flashes into being as if it has come through a jump gate and then flashes out again.

  *Through,* Ben says. *In and out again. From outside.*

  *?*

  *Elsewhere. Beyond.*

  The creature has no concept of a place other than its own environment. It transmits curiosity.

  Ben tries to picture life on a planet. Cara recognizes it as the farm on Chenon: Nan, Rion, cattle. He adds Ricky.

  The creature doesn’t get land, daylight, or cattle, but it recognizes Ricky. *Young.*

  *Yes.*

  The otter-children crowd in, sharing the void dragon’s sensory experience. They recognize Ricky, too.

  *Ricky said he’d seen otters,* Cara says.

  The void dragon turns to her. She forces her eyes open against the blackness and this time she sees it for herself. Its snout bumps against her face gently. Very gently for something so big. One of the talons on the end of the prehensile beard snakes up to her cheekbone. She feels a slight prick and a trickle of warm blood runs down her face like a tear. The dragon takes her blood, maybe it sniffles it up, maybe it licks it, she isn’t sure.

  *Know you.* In the recognition there’s an implication that it not only knows her now, but will know her again in future. Cara wonders whether she’s putting her own interpretation on something so alien she doesn’t have a concept for it.

  *Know you, too,* she responds. *Now and always,* and tries to project goodwill.

  Ben pictures a variety of ships winking out. Then he projects an image of a ship, an ark ship, hanging in the middle of nowhere.

  *Lost,* Ben says.

  The void dragon doesn’t understand.

  *Find?* Ben projects hope.

  Still no understanding.

  “I suppose that would have been too easy,” Ben says. “Worth a try, I guess.”

  There’s an audible crash. The mess door flies open. Jake Lowenbrun, naked and wet from the shower, collides with a table, rebounds and stumbles into the lap of Chilaili Magena, or is it Tama? She grabs him by the arm and drags him down to the bench. There’s no spare safety harness there, but her sister leans over and they clasp hands across him to keep him pinned down. He reaches out for the void dragon and it swirls around toward him.

&nbs
p; Hilde appears in the open doorway. “Sorry. Too much soap, not enough grip.” She obviously doesn’t see any of the creatures. She walks through the middle of the void dragon and grabs Lowenbrun by the shoulders to haul him back. Her voice is half a second behind her mouth movement.

  The void dragon winks out of existence.

  The otter children swirl around the mess one more time and then dive out through the forward bulkhead.

  Cabin pressure changes with a pop and they emerge into realspace.

  Ben took a deep breath. His wrist ached, but he thought it was more a memory of pain rather than a flare-up. He wanted to laugh and cry, both at the same time. He didn’t know whether he felt relief or disappointment that the confrontation had been so strange. He’d felt that they were on the verge of communication, but that complete understanding had eluded them. He believed the void dragon had been curious. That was the first step.

  Pity Lowenbrun broke the moment.

  What was he going to do about the man?

  Hilde had dragged him back to sick bay and Ben and Cara had followed. Now Lowenbrun sat on a chair, dressed in nothing but a light cotton coverall, his hair still damp and tousled, nursing a bowl in case his insides got the better of him again.

  “He smells better than he did,” Cara said. “But I bet he has the mother of all hangovers.”

  Lowenbrun looked up at her without actually raising his head and swallowed hard.

  Yes, Ben knew the signs. Lowenbrun’s whole posture said: If I move I’ll be sick. “Has he had—”

  “Everything we can give him and still be conscious,” Hilde said. “But he’s close to sober.”

  “Lowenbrun . . . Jake . . .” Ben said.

  Lowenbrun grunted.

  “By rights I should shove you out of the nearest air lock.”

  “Do it, then.” It wasn’t bravado.

  “That would be too easy.”

  Another grunt.

  “Thirty thousand innocent settlers.”

  This time a groan rather than a grunt. “I’m a dead man. I’ve been a dead man since I took that bastard’s job.”

  “Do you want to die?”

  He shook his head, clutched the bowl until his knuckles whitened, then swallowed hard again. “Dree and me. All the family that’s left. Need to take care of her.”