Sunsinger

by Michelle Levigne

  Bain turned to look at Lin. Now he understood why she had collected the stellar dust. It was all planned—she hadn't gathered it ‘in case’ it might come in handy. She had known exactly what she was doing. The only thing she hadn't known was if a Mashrami ship waited.

  Then they were through the second Knaught Point.

  Lin sat back from her control panel. She rubbed at her eyes, wiped sweaty strands of hair out of her face and raised her arms straight for the ceiling. She stretched, joints cracking, ligaments complaining so loudly Bain's back ached in sympathy. Then she looked at him and she laughed.

  “Better safe than sorry, don't you know?” Lin relaxed back into her couch.

  “How did you know—?”

  “The dust would mask us? I didn't. If the Mashrami come through, my trick didn't work.”

  “No signs of pursuit,” Ganfer announced.

  “Well, keep moving anyway, Bucket of Bolts. Come on, Bain. Let's go tell our passengers we're almost home free.” Lin unbuckled her safety strap and pushed hard for the ceiling. She bounced off, giggling a little.

  Bain thought she looked silly, tumbling toward the ladder, arms waving. He knew exactly how she felt. He curled his legs under himself and pushed off, twisting a little before his feet left the couch. He executed a somersault before he hit the top of the dome and turned it into a spin as he darted for the ladder.

  “Show-off!” Lin spun off the ladder with one arm, so she flipped head over heels. She hit the dome with her feet and kept flipping, around and around the dome, always hitting with her feet, pushing off the next second with perfect control and precision.

  Bain was more than happy to hold onto the ladder, gasping a little, and watch Lin ricochet around the dome for a few more seconds. Someday, he would perform acrobatics like Lin's. For now, he let her tricks express his giddy relief and triumph.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Well, we got scorched.” Lin turned from the wall screen and leaned over the control panel to her left.

  “Bad?” Bain thought he could read her. Just like Lin growled and pretended fierceness when the situation wasn't deadly serious, she hid her worries under a mask of calm until the crisis was over.

  “Some sensor relays lost power and range. They'll work, but not for fine readings. Thank Fi'in we only have one more Knaught jump before Refuge.” She glanced up from the control panel and forced a smile onto her lips. “Finish your breakfast and get to your studies.”

  “Will you have to go outside?” He shoveled more sweet mush into his mouth, chewed twice and swallowed. It wasn't his favorite breakfast, but anything hot was welcome. He knew the hot cereal was full of vitamins and minerals he needed—didn't taste as good as chocolate—and he had to take care of his body. Growing up, Lin told him, meant doing things he didn't like.

  “No. You'd like to space-walk, wouldn't you?” She shook her head. “At the speed we're going, ten safety lines wouldn't keep you attached to the ship. Maybe when we're in orbit sometime, I'll let you practice. A good crewman needs to know every part of his ship.”

  Bain nodded. When they reached Refuge, Lin would land and only stay long enough to get rid of her passengers. She had to go back to Lenga for more orphans. Did she mean she'd let him come on board again, the next time she reached Refuge? He would like to see her again. He would like to ride Sunsinger again and talk to Ganfer.

  “No,” Lin went on. “The damage we took can't be fixed in space. We need a ground repair facility. Or just plain new parts. This is where finders fees come in handy.” She chuckled. “Although, this time all our bills are being paid by the Commonwealth since we were damaged in service. Always think ahead, Bain. Be prepared for any emergency—that's the best way to avoid them.”

  * * * *

  Sunsinger left the last Knaught Point with no trouble. Bain gripped the arms of his couch until the ship emerged into normal space. He strained his eyes until the stars appeared and the black of space wiped away the streaks of blue-white. He glanced at Lin, and she grinned back at him.

  “Well, now that it's all over...” Lin sat back in her couch in the dome and watched a tiny spot of yellow light grow larger directly in front of Sunsinger. Refuge orbited that sun. “I have to admit, I was a little worried.”

  “Why?” Bain pushed his control panel aside and turned to her. He swung his legs off the couch, holding on with both hands so he wouldn't float away. “That last jump was easy.”

  “There was a chance the Mashrami did more than scorch us.” She shrugged. “More damage than the sensors could show, maybe. Or so much damage the sensors gave opposite readings of our condition. It's happened before.”

  “You got us through.”

  “We got through. Teamwork, Bain.” Lin's face grew stern and her voice took on a growl, which made him grin. “You're a good Spacer. If anyone says otherwise, you send them to me. Including that fat sissy, Toly Gaber.”

  “What are you going to do, beat up on him?” Bain thought of Toly with his arm in a cast, cleaning the sanitary—ignored by the other children because he refused to confess.

  “No. I'll just do some fast maneuvers and leave him without anything to hold onto, in free-fall—after his arm heals.” Lin flashed him a grin, then her face fell into tired lines. “I admit, I am glad this trip is over.”

  “Do you have to go back out there?”

  “Not right away.” She pushed off the couch with tired moves and headed for the ladder. “Repairs. Double-check systems. Then back to Lenga for another load of children.” She started down the ladder, head-first. “I bet you'll be glad to get back into gravity and get your feet on solid ground again.”

  “I guess so.” Bain stayed in his place, watching Refuge's sun grow larger.

  He thought about walking upright again, unable to jump for the ceiling and turn somersaults without falling. He thought about eating food that wasn't pre-packaged and using a sanitary that didn't need a suction hose or safety straps. Showers and swimming and breathing air that hadn't been recycled three hundred times.

  No more sitting in the dome and watching the slow shift of colors and lights. No more teasing from Ganfer. No more lessons with Lin.

  But she said she would recommend him to a ship's captain who needed crew. She said she would find him a place where he could train. He would be a Spacer someday and earn his living like his ancestors had, working in space. Lin had promised. Bain knew she would stick to her promises no matter how hard.

  He just had to resign himself to learning and working and living aboard another ship, not Sunsinger.

  Bain moved to the ladder. He had to do something, find some chore to keep his mind busy. He didn't want to get Lin angry with him or disappoint her in any way. He didn't want to start crying like a baby.

  * * * *

  They landed on Refuge thirty hours later. Port officials and three empty transport carts arrived before Ganfer had shut down all engines into idle-cool. Bain watched four screens giving different views outside Sunsinger. He could almost laugh at the images shown there. It felt odd and amusing to see transport carts rolling along the ground instead of shooting through the air like birds. The first people he saw walking made him stare. How did they keep their feet stuck to the ground like that?

  Bain felt heaviness in his arms and legs. His head wanted to sink into his neck and shoulders. He wanted to laugh. Gravity felt odd. A little wrong. Space was where he belonged, not on the ground, stuck to one planet.

  “Takes a little getting used to, doesn't it?” Lin asked with a smile. She eased herself out of her seat. “Take it slow and easy this first time. Let your muscles get used to holding you up again.”

  “Is it hard for you, every time you land?” Bain asked. He unbuckled but he didn't try anything else.

  “I make sure I exercise and keep up my muscle tone ... but yes, it's a chore. It's one you should get used to, if you want to be a Spacer.” She winked and turned away to walk to the galley. Bain noticed her steps were tiny, her
legs stiff. She didn't so much lift her feet as shuffle them along the deck.

  “Couldn't you just stay in orbit all the time and send shuttles down to make deliveries or pick up supplies?”

  “I could. But it isn't healthy.” She opened a cabinet and pulled out sealed cups. Bain hoped they held chocolate. One last treat before leaving Sunsinger forever.

  “Healthy? Why?”

  “Your muscles get used to floating all the time—except when you push off something, of course.” Lin put the cups in the heater and sat down to wait. “The longer you stay in free-fall, the weaker your muscles get. Lazy. And your bones start to lose calcium. Not good at all.”

  “Bad?”

  “Worse than a half-second exposure to vacuum.” She grimaced. “Remember I said Ganfer and I were alone for years because of the damage to Sunsinger when I was little? Most of that time was spent in free-fall. Just before we got within communication distance and the regular space lanes, Ganfer made me repair the exercise wheel. He pulled lots of nasty tricks to make me exercise, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, locking doors on me, cutting off water supplies, locking me out of the school files so I couldn't read or play music or games or anything, until I exercised. Good little nanny-brain, Ganfer is.” Lin chuckled. The timer on the heater went off, and she levered herself up to take out their drinks. “It still hurt when we hit gravity. The doctors all said I would have spent the next year in a hospital bed, not just a month, if Ganfer hadn't made me exercise. Sometimes the things that are good for you aren't much fun.”

  “It's not much fun growing up at all, is it?”

  “No. There are times when it's worth it, though.” She brought the cups over to the control panel. Lin handed him his cup and lifted her own in a salute. “Sometimes you meet people who make you glad to be alive. It's been fun, teaching you.”

  A tiny smile curved one corner of her mouth, but Lin's eyes were serious. They glistened a little—tears? Bain hoped not. If Lin started crying, he knew he would too. He didn't want anyone, especially Lin, to see him with tears in his eyes. He swallowed hard and returned her salute.

  Bain wanted to say something, to thank her, to tell her how much he had enjoyed being her crew, too. He couldn't. His throat felt almost too tight to swallow his chocolate, let alone talk.

  “Let's go check on our passengers, shall we?” Lin drained her cup in two swallows and set it down on the control panel. “We have a lot of work to do. I intend to make the evacuation authorities pay for every bit of my repairs, not just the obvious damages.”

  “We?” Bain thought his heart had stopped for a few seconds. He clutched his cup so tightly the sides squeaked.

  “You're crew, aren't you?” Lin frowned, studying him like she had never seen him before. Bain wanted to laugh, but he could hardly breathe. “I need you to help with the unloading. That's part of your training. Or do you think the other children can't get to their new quarters without your help?”

  “They are kind of helpless, aren't they?” Bain grinned, set his cup down and stood—and the next moment gasped at the sudden ache that filled his muscles, just from trying to stand upright.

  “Slowly, crewman. Take it nice and easy.” Lin offered an arm to take some weight off his unprepared leg muscles. She grinned. Bain grinned back.

  * * * *

  All too soon, the unloading was over. Bain helped carry the last crate of supplies from the hold and loaded it onto the transport. The sun stood almost straight overhead, noon, though his stomach told him it was past suppertime. Mistress Valgo had passed around sandwiches while they unloaded, but it wasn't enough.

  He only had to get his bag from his cubicle on the bridge, and he would be ready to go. Bain looked around for Lin. He wanted to say good-bye properly, as an adult. He found her outside, going over some papers and a tally board with two technicians. Bain suspected she was already getting her repairs started at someone else's expense.

  She looked like she would be busy for a while. Long enough for him to get his bag and return. He hurried, pushing his aching leg muscles, concentrating on fighting the pain so he wouldn't think about leaving.

  “Where are you going, Bain?” Ganfer asked, when the boy reached the bridge.

  “I have to leave with the other kids.” He flung aside the curtain for his cubicle and snatched up his bag.

  “You do?” The ship-brain sounded surprised. “Lin said you were crew.”

  “Yeah, on this run. She said she'd find me a place on a ship where I could learn to be a Spacer.” Bain swallowed hard when his voice threatened to crack.

  “Oh. Is that what she meant?”

  “Lin keeps her promises, doesn't she?”

  “Of course she does. I raised her properly, as her parents would. But sometimes Lin doesn't say everything she means. She's sometimes too cautious.”

  “Oh.” Bain rubbed at his throat, hating how much it hurt, like he kept trying to swallow sobs. His fingers brushed against the collar link Lin had given him. He took it off and set it on the bunk. “I almost forgot to give this back.”

  “Lin gave it to you. Keep it.”

  “But somebody else—”

  “We have plenty on board.” Ganfer's voice sounded odd. Was he laughing or crying? “Lin is looking for you. Better hurry.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Ganfer. I'll see you.” He slipped the collar back around his neck. The familiar touch helped take away a little of the ache. Not all of it, but some.

  “Soon.” The bridge lights flickered, like Ganfer waved good-bye to him.

  Bain tried to smile. He ran, his bag slung over his shoulder. His footsteps echoed down the access tube to the hold. He felt the floor vibrate under his steps. No more floating and silence.

  He kept running, through the emptied hold, around the tables and benches still bolted into place, down the long cargo hatch ramp to the ground. Lin stood at the end of the ramp with the two port officials. They watched him come. Bain skidded to a stop a few steps away from them.

  “This is the boy?” the man asked. The patch on his uniform read ‘Malloy.’ His mouth puckered up and his eyes were too close together. He frowned, studying the boy like he was a new species of sting plant.

  “This is Chobainian Kern, yes.” Lin's voice had that tightness that meant either teasing or anger or both. She gestured for him to come closer.

  “Where are you going with the bag, Bain?” the woman asked. She smiled at him, black eyes sparkling, chocolate-colored skin glowing under the hot sun. Her uniform patch had the code for Child Welfare Authority, and her name was ‘Gracia.’

  “I have to go to the orphanage with the others,” Bain answered. A prickle traveled up his back. Something strange was going on.

  “You didn't tell him?” The man glared at Lin.

  “And get his hopes up high? What if you had said no?” Lin rested one hand on Bain's shoulder, squeezing a little. “Bain, these people have to give permission for you to take another trip with me.”

  “Another trip?” He let his bag drop. Bain didn't even wince when he heard the thud as it hit the ground. He turned to face Lin. She wore that lopsided grin that meant she wanted to do cartwheels.

  “It's up to you, Bain,” Gracia said. “Captain Fieran has a good record. Dr. Anyon vouches for your relationship with her. Your records are commendable, and —”

  “You've started training. We need all the trained Spacers we can get,” Malloy broke in. “Do you want to go with the captain, or don't you?”

  “Yes, sir!” Bain wanted to shout, but he didn't have the breath for it. Lin squeezed his shoulder again and that one touch was better than a hug.

  “I'm really going to make you study,” she said as the two officials walked away. “You have a lot to learn, and I have a reputation to keep up. When we're finished, captains all over this quadrant will beg you to crew for them.”

  “I'll do the best job, I promise!” he blurted.

  “Just do your best, and
we'll both be satisfied.” Lin nudged his bag with the toe of her boot. “Sorry about not telling you. Anyon was sure they would give permission, but I've dealt with Sourpuss Malloy before. Even Ganfer thought he might say no just to be mean. Pick up your gear, and let's get back to work, all right?”

  Bain sketched a salute, which earned a hearty laugh from Lin. He hurried back inside the ship and ran all the way back up to the bridge.

  END

  * * *

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