Medusa's Touch

by Emily L Byrne

  Her former employer, Vahn, was not on her suspect list and neither was TiCara, but that left several other excellent prospects. She hadn’t really met the other crewmembers, besides Erol, and she had never trusted Sammo. But that didn’t mean that he would betray Vahn. She knew what Vahn had to offer him; it was not a price that she could deny, if she wanted to return home as badly as he did.

  She let her thoughts drift back to her own home planet, imagining a different life. But there was nothing that prevented her from returning to New Chindai. She could go back and live with her crèche mates and follow a new path. All she had to do was admit that she had failed as a medusa pilot through a stupid accident brought on by a bad decision, then been discharged as a corporate rep because her employer charged her with betraying his interests.

  She shuddered just thinking about how her crèche would react, and how that would make her feel. She and her mates had been engineered to achieve success; their funders had paid to ensure that. Failure on that scale was nearly unthinkable. Returning home would mean bringing her crèche down with her in the eyes of the New Chindai corps and she couldn’t bear to do that.

  Besides, if she returned home, what would happen to TiCara and what they might be to one another? The thought of the losing that possibility sent a pang through her. This was all so new, so wonderful. She wasn’t ready to give it up yet, not unless she was forced to.

  But what if TiCara had second thoughts about her, about them? What if no one else sent a message from the ship and revealed themselves as the other contact? Would the pilot still believe her then, want to stay with her?

  Doubts tangled up her thoughts until she had trouble sorting out what to do next. Without Vahn’s protection and without TiCara, she had nothing. She wished, more than anything else, that she had a neutral friend, someone she could ask for advice. The someone that she had hoped Elia would be. She scrubbed her hands over her face and groaned.

  The easiest way to establish her innocence would be to establish someone else’s guilt. The question was: who? And how could she find out? Her gaze fell on TiCara’s monitor as she stepped out of the shower. Her hacking skills were rusty at best, but it was worth trying.

  She got dressed and activated the keyboard. The ship’s logs were secur-protected as she expected, but there was a code backdoor into them that didn’t take her very long to locate. She still couldn’t see TiCara’s captain’s logs, but she could view the ship’s standard logs and communications with Kyrin. She kept hunting, hoping to find a clue.

  Sherin wasn’t sure how long it took to find what she was looking for, but she was stiff and hungry when a communication log that wasn’t ship standard rolled past. The destination address was vaguely familiar and the more she looked at it, the more familiar it became. Sirius Transport. Vahn had her send messages to them from time to time and Elia had used something that looked like this code as well. Sherin thought about TiCara’s stories about Zig and what Elia must have told him and trembled with a newfound rage.

  She spent some time comparing shifts and what few other details that she could see to come up with a suspect until one became clear: Erol’s shifts corresponded with the communication times. Part of her quailed, wondering how TiCara would respond to an accusation against her loyal Second. Another part of her denied it at first: she liked Erol, at least what she’d seen of him.

  But she couldn’t accuse him or anyone else until she got more proof. A glance at the time on the computer told her that a full crew shift turnover hadn’t happened yet. Erol could still be in his quarters. But if he wasn’t, she might be able to get in and out before he got back. She might have just enough time to find her proof there, enough to show TiCara that there was really someone else, someone who would do what she wouldn’t.

  Sherin shut her eyes and pictured TiCara, remembering how the pilot looked at her, how happy she’d been when they woke up together. A delighted shiver went through her. That image went a long way to replacing the

  other one, the one she feared to see: TiCara angry, TiCara rejecting her and refusing to believe her.

  She saved what she had found to a drive flagged for TiCara. The pilot would realize that it was something new and investigate it accordingly when she updated her logs. It would be there just in case she wasn’t around to explain what was on that drive. Sherin shivered again, realizing that she had to go before she lost her nerve. She slipped out of the room, dropping the remains of their meal into the food dispenser as she passed.

  Then she opened one of the security consoles that she had located when she logged into TiCara’s computer and looked at the secur cam footage. TiCara had been as good as her word and she could see almost everywhere on the ship, based on what she knew of it. She checked screen after screen, looking for Erol until she found him, checking on the repairs.

  For a moment, she paused. He had been kind when she had spoken to him. With all her heart she wanted it to be someone else, someone like Sammo. But if it had to be Erol or her, then she couldn’t afford for it to be her.

  She located the crew quarters and assignments a few moments later and closed the console. Whatever happened, she hoped that TiCara would find and understand the evidence that she had left for her. If anything went wrong. With that thought, she slipped down a ladder and then walked quietly down a short corridor until she stood in front of Erol’s quarters.

  The door was, not surprisingly, locked and it took her some time to override the code. Her heart was thudding its way up her throat when the door finally slid open. What if he had come back, was inside sleeping? But, to her relief, the open door revealed an empty room. Erol’s possessions were arranged neatly on shelves and in a small chest, nothing on the floor where the cleaning bots might get tangled in it. A bright cloth covered the bed and a few trinkets decorated the shelves.

  In a way, she was disappointed. She had hoped for a mess, something that indicated a forgetful traitor, one who would be easy to expose. Sherin sighed. She would just have to look more thoroughly.

  First, she went through the shelves, finding nothing but his clothes and other necessities. On one side of the bed, there was a picture of Erol with a brown-skinned femme about his own age, arms around each other, smiling at the photobot. Sherin looked at the picture, a sinking suspicion telling her what tell Zig had to control TiCara’s Second, what he might do if Erol failed to contact him.

  But she couldn’t stop to worry about that, not now. She looked at the chest and its old lock. It wasn’t coded so it would need to be either picked or broken. She didn’t have anything to break it with, so she scrambled through Erol’s shelves until she found something thin and flexible enough to try and turn the tumbler system.

  It took longer than she wanted it to take, and her hands were beginning to ache from the strain when the lock finally clicked open. She pulled it free of the latch and opened the chest. Its contents looked innocuous enough, but she hoped that there was something buried it in. Her hands were both inside it when the door slid open.

  Sherin and Erol stared at each while entire galaxies went by outside, neither one moving or saying a word. Finally, he stepped inside. What are you doing here? His tone was neutral, calm even, but Sherin could see the muscles in his cheek twitch and his eyes narrow.

  She stood up and backed away. She had some combat training, but Erol was a tall man in his own room. If he attacked her, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to get out undamaged. Or alive. That thought sent chills through her and she wondered if TiCara was watching the camera feeds.

  Maybe there was audio. I wanted to know more about you. You’re the one sending messages to the Ears, aren’t you? She was nearly shouting her words, hoping that someone else was listening. I also wanted to know why you told TiCara that it was me, that I was the one who betrayed her.

  They were circling each other now, her standing on his bed, stepping sideways, her back to the wall. At any moment, it felt like he might lunge at her. She glanced sideways, looking for
something that could be used as a weapon. Erol took advantage of her distraction and leapt toward her. She jumped off the bed, grabbing an old-fashioned chair from the corner and holding it up in front of her like a shield.

  Erol’s nostrils flared and his eyes went all pupil. They’ll kill zir if I don’t give them what they want. I can’t let you expose me, not now. I can’t! He lunged again, and this time, she hit him with the chair.

  He grabbed the legs and snapped one off, throwing Sherin to the ground with the force of the momentum. She rolled over, narrowly avoiding a kick, and threw the broken chair at him. Erol ducked and Sherin stood back up and retreated back toward the door. TiCara, TiCara, where are you? She didn’t want to make herself more vulnerable by looking away from Erol for the shine of telltale lights, but it was tempting.

  She doesn’t know you’re in here, does she? Erol’s voice took on an edge that made her shudder. He tossed the chair aside and came toward her, hands flexing as if to loosen them up. Sherin summoned a long ago self-defense move and lashed out with her foot, striking his leg as he got closer. He didn’t leap backward fast enough and her foot grazed him.

  But in a startlingly swift move, he grabbed it before she could finish pulling away, twisting her leg so she dropped to the floor with a yell. He looked down at her, his expression turning from menacing to cold. Somehow, that was more terrifying than him holding her foot and Sherin froze.

  Then he shifted his grip slightly, digging his fingers into her leg, and the movement broke through the haze of fear that was immobilizing her. She tried to get through his shell. You don’t have to do this! We can find another way, give them false coordinates. It could give you more time to save your primary. She wondered if she was pleading in hopes of getting him to let her go or just to buy herself more time. But buy herself more time for what? Please...she sent the thought out to anyone or anything that might be listening.

  Erol reached for her, dropping to his knees on top of her legs to pin them down. She grabbed at his belt, hoping to capture either his communicator or a blaster, if he had one. A sharp crackle of static made both of them jump and she yanked her arm free of his, making him struggle to recapture it. Why are you doing this? She shouted into the crackle of his handheld as he seized her arm.

  Because I have to. His hands were reaching around her throat now and she bucked frantically against him, trying to loosen his grip. Because I think he’s following us and I can’t afford to fail. He’ll kill Arnelle. He delivered his speech in a voice gone dreamy and distant, as if he were disconnecting from everything else that he was doing.

  She managed a shrieking gurgle before he succeeded in cutting off her air. After that, the pain made her see stars as her vision darkened. She didn’t hear the telltale whoosh of the room’s door opening.

  Let her go. TiCara’s voice was ice on an outer moon. Without being able to see her, Sherin knew that she had a weapon and that it wasn’t set to stun. Erol’s grip loosened and she began coughing and choking as her body tried to pull in enough air to recover. Erol shifted off her slowly, his hands now outstretched. She’s a traitor, Captain. She’s working for the Ears. His voice took on its own pleading note. Why choose her over me?

  Because she’s not trying to strangle you, Second. I know what they offered her to betray Vahn and me. What did they offer you? TiCara stepped forward, herding him back and away from Sherin.

  Sherin sat up, still coughing, and felt her throat. There’d be bruises, at the very least. A small tremor went through her as she wondered whether or not he had damaged her vocal chords. What if she couldn’t sing again? But then, that was probably something they could fix on Electra. If she had the credits. Sherin shook her head, trying to organize the jumbled terrified mess of her thoughts and looked back up at TiCara.

  The pilot and her Second stared each other down until Erol broke. His gaze shifted to the framed vids on the shelf and Sherin could see his expression shift through longing, fear, then back to rage in the blink of an eye. Look out! She shouted as Erol lunged toward TiCara, the desperation in the set of his face driving the speed of his hands.

  The blast from TiCara’s lazer blinded her for a moment but Erol’s scream of pain filled the air, telling her what had happened just as clearly as if she had seen it. TiCara hauled her to her feet and shoved her toward the door. Blinking against the aftereffects of the weapon’s fire, she could see Erol sitting on the floor, cradling one of his arms. His uniform sleeve was burned away and his skin was turning an angry deep red.

  Sherin winced and looked away as she stepped out into the corridor. TiCara stayed in the room, gathering up her former Second’s comm devices and any obvious weapons. She jerked her head over one shoulder to Sherin and said, There’s an emergency med kit in the next corridor. I’ll understand if you don’t want to get it but...I’d thank you if you did. The pilot’s face was bleak, her eyes distant and Sherin understood a little of what it had cost her to act, to fire on someone who had once been a trusted companion.

  Or more. It occurred to her that she had never asked about their relationship. Romances amongst crewmembers were far from uncommon and she cringed away from the thought in a morass of jealous sympathy. But TiCara had come for her, had fought for her. If keeping Erol alive meant something to her, then Sherin should try and help. She nodded and dashed in the direction TiCara had pointed in.

  Behind her, the door closed on the sound of voices. Part of her wondered if Erol would talk TiCara into believing his tell. Wondered if she’d see the lazer pointed at her when she returned. She slumped against the corridor

  wall and started shaking, a rising wave of panic turning the ship’s walls red around her. Her hands tightened into fists, closed so tightly that her fingers screamed from the strain.

  Sherin lost herself in the racing drumbeat of her heart, the burning ache of her bruised throat. Her instincts took over and there was a moment, then two, where she imagined herself fleeing to the Bridge and piloting the Astra away from Electra, returning to Aliandra or New Chindai or anywhere that felt safe. But the tiny shred of self-control she still held inside wouldn’t let her. It drove her to gradually calm her breathing and unclench her hands.

  It took longer than she thought it would, but Sherin managed to return with the med kit. Then she held the lazer while TiCara dressed Erol’s wound. She was proud of how little her hand trembled, even though she wasn’t sure that the weapon was still necessary. Erol’s head was tilted back and he looked unconscious. After TiCara used the injection pen on his arm, he slumped over on the floor, apparently asleep. TiCara pulled on his legs to stretch him out on the floor. Glancing up, she caught Sherin’s gaze. He saved my life, more than once. I won’t kill him if I don’t have to.

  She straightened up and took the lazer from Sherin’s hand. Something must have startled her because her voice got very gentle. Starshine girl, you with me?

  He said that they...that he was expecting the coordinates to Electra now. That Zig would kill zir, his primary, she tilted her head at the vids before continuing, If he didn’t get them. I think we need to send Zig some coordinates. It wasn’t just about Erol. She couldn’t let the femme in the vids die, not that easily. It would haunt her and she’d had quite enough of that.

  TiCara followed the direction of her gaze and gave a grim nod. Let’s go to the Bridge then. She stepped outside, Sherin at her heels and paused to lock the door. He’ll sleep for a few cycles, then we’ll have to get food to him. I’ll let the crew know what happened after we send our message to Zig.

  Sherin stroked her shoulder sympathetically and TiCara slipped her arm around her and tilted her chin up. She inhaled sharply as she saw the bruises on Sherin’s neck. I was too soft with him, she growled. For an instant, Sherin thought she was going to go back into Erol’s room.

  There isn’t time. We should go send a message before anything blackholes. More than it already has. She remembered what Erol had said about the corp ship, about how he thought that it was Zig. B
ut how would TiCara handle that? She hesitated a moment too long and TiCara vanished up the ladder to the next level.

  She scrambled after her. Wait, we need to send the coordinates from his comms. Otherwise, they’ll get suspicious. TiCara nodded, the movement sending her medusas flying around her head. For the first time, Sherin didn’t find herself cringing inside at the sight of them. After all, she might have them herself again, sometime in the near future.

  Except that she still didn’t have the credits and she was pretty sure that simply stumbling into another lab on Electra wouldn’t get her medusas magically re-implanted. Then TiCara had her hand outstretched for the comms that Sherin was carrying, and she sent all thought of her implants, past and future, to the back of her mind. How about the middle of the asteroid belt?

  TiCara grinned at her. I do like the way you think. Together they poured over the nav screen looking for just the right spot. Then TiCara plugged in the coordinates after she saw Sherin’s nod, and hit send. Did they say there would be a response?

  Not to me, but I don’t know what they told him. I gave you Erol’s comm, just in case they’re double-checking the source code. Sherin met TiCara’s sidelong look. I hope that’s enough. What he did isn’t zir fault. She rubbed her arms to warm them from the sudden chill of her words.

  TiCara nodded and gestured toward the copilot’s seat. The array of screens above their heads shifted as the pilot ran checks all around the Astra. Sherin looked at each of them as they came up, noticing that the ship was still on minimal thrust, trying to blend in with the dwindling number of asteroids out here on the edge of the belt.

  She checked the navigation coordinates and verified that they seemed correct, at least for now. She entered a course correction for several variables, then showed it to TiCara. The pilot grinned at her, sending spacedust swirling up inside her as she grinned back. Maybe they could be a team out of bed as well as in it. The thought made her white-hot happy until she considered their chances of survival.