Call of Courage: 7 Novels of the Galactic Frontier

by C. Gockel

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Liu finished the orbital exit. He rechecked the calculations he had made only a few hours before, hoping his math wasn’t as rusty as he suspected. Without the communications array, there was no way to check the predicted course until they came within visual range of the Keseburg. He just had to hope the large ship would be in the projected position. As long as they hadn’t altered their flight path in the past weeks, he was confident they would be on target. He pressed his fingers into his eyelids and yawned. Then he unbuckled and pushed off toward the kitchen, stretching as he spiraled down the hallway. Issk’ath watched him as he floated past the equipment lock. Liu yanked himself to a stop with a sigh. The thing’s eyes were creepy but he couldn’t just let it sit there alone in the dark. Liu plastered an uneasy smile across his face and poked his head around the door frame.

  “How are you—” he paused. He’d meant to ask how it was feeling, but rejected the idea as nonsensical. This thing was just wire and sparks. It wasn’t like them. “How are you operating?” he finished awkwardly.

  “Within norms,” it said, further illustrating what Liu had thought. “Thank you for your concern,” it added.

  Liu nodded and turned to move away.

  “May I see the rest of the ship?” it asked suddenly. Liu froze.

  “I— better ask the Captain about that,” he said quickly. “It’s not— we just have several sensitive experiments in the labs,” he was sweating and Liu could only hope Issk’ath didn’t know enough about humans to notice.

  “Very well,” was all that it said.

  “I’ll go and find her,” Liu stammered, pushing away before he could make it worse.

  He was absently tapping his cup at the table when Al Jahi found him. “Do you need me to up the caffeine allowance?” asked the captain.

  Liu smiled and shook his head. “No. I got enough sleep. Drinking it more out of habit than anything else.”

  “So why are you tapping?”

  “Sorry.” He pushed the cup away, locking it into the holder. “Am I that obvious?”

  “You always tap when you’re upset. Drives me nuts when I’m trying to listen to the feed.”

  “I’d say we all have reason to be upset,” said Liu. He stared at Al Jahi, wondering if he ought to tell her about Issk’ath or not. He already knew her answer. What good would it do to ask?

  “But specifically…” Al Jahi prodded him.

  “Specifically, the robot wants a tour.”

  “It— what?”

  Liu picked up the cup again. Twisted it between his hands. “Issk’ath. It wants to get out of the equipment lock and move around. I told it we had delicate procedures going on in the labs. That seemed to satisfy it for now.”

  “It’s only a two-day trip— surely we can persuade it to stay put for that long.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. I wasn’t going to tell you, but if it decides it’s waited long enough, that cargo band wasn’t really meant to restrain anything, just hold it in place during launch. One of that thing’s pincers could probably snap it no problem.”

  Al Jahi crossed her arms. “I hate this,” she said.

  “Me too,” said Liu. “We’re hostages in our own ship. It doesn’t need air. It doesn’t need food. I don’t even think the environmentals affect it. You think we made the wrong choice?”

  “What other choice was there? Remember,” she said leaning toward him and lowering her voice, “We stick together. Forty-eight hours, we can hold these people in check that long. Just stay calm. Besides, it may not need the things we do, but it needs us . At least for now. This is our home. Space is our habitat. Without us, it would just drift forever. It needs our maps, our ships, our pilots. Especially since we watched the sunset the other night.”

  Liu nodded. “Then— what should we do? I think it’s bored.”

  “I’ll see if Emery will sit with it. They seem to have a rapport. You just worry about driving,” said Al Jahi. She pulled the cup from him. “And stop tapping. It makes my teeth ache.”

  He smiled and got up. “Yes, Captain.”

  Al Jahi groaned. “I’ll be happy to go back to being Chione in a few hours,” she said and glided away.

  Titov had already finished his report and had left the lab to see if Blick wanted to squeeze in a few more rounds of Trojan Relay before they docked. Alice had abandoned her work. It was pointless. She concentrated, instead on how to avoid detection as she eliminated the others. Al Jahi and the robot would be the most difficult. Pushing Issk’ath out after getting rid of the people that opposed her would be easiest, but the robot had somehow sensed Hackford’s death from several feet away. The Wolfinger was not large. If it was quick enough, it would stop her. If not— well, it would discover her at least, and she had more than one obstacle to remove. She needed something slow and subtle. Something neither the robot nor the victim would notice until it was too late and she was safely away.

  Dr. Cardiff wandered in. “Joan,” she said, “I need your medical report to finish Hackford’s file. I was going to do it on the Keseburg’s remote feed but it doesn’t appear to be up yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Phyllis,” murmured Leroux. She typed a few strokes into her console. “Captain Al Jahi thought it best to keep it off until we notify the families. You can use my station, I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

  “Thanks,” said Cardiff sitting at the console. Leroux nodded and yawned.

  “You want anything from the kitchen Oxwell?” she asked.

  Alice forced a smile and shook her head. Leroux left and Alice’s heart started pounding. She looked around her station. Phenol? No, too fast. Cardiff would know something was wrong as soon as she breathed in a concentrated burst. She considered an injection. Also too quick. And obvious. Ethidium Bromide? No, the concentration was too weak. Might make Cardiff sick, but Alice needed her silent and gone before she realized what was happening. Her gaze caught on the methanol. They’d run so many sequences in the past week that Leroux had complained about the slight smell just that morning and did an extra vent before they’d launched. It was slow. Too slow? The lab monitor would alarm if she made the concentration too high. It had to be slow or— Alice glided casually over to the workbench. The sensor was bolted to the top. She stood in front of it, and pulled a length of slender tubing from the equipment cabinet. She glanced over her shoulder at Cardiff. The doctor was lost in her report, oblivious. Alice shifted slightly to block the feed camera. She twisted one end of the tubing into the sniffer and the other to the rear exhaust. Thank the Core for Titov and his penchant for cosmic glug, she thought. A deep ache of remorse hit her. Titov had shown her and Spixworth how to fool the lab monitor one night at the end of training. He and Blick had been cooking up a batch of glug to celebrate.

  “Have to fool the sensors,” said Blick. “Otherwise security and lab inspectors would be down here in minutes.”

  “Why don’t you just cover it?” Spixworth had asked as he watched Titov carefully seal the tubing with biogel.

  “Failsafe. If the sensor is blocked, it alarms, just the same as when it detects a hazard. Have to create a feedback loop. So it’s always sensing the same, boring lab air.”

  The cosmic glug had made her eyes water as soon as Blick opened the container. Zachary’s had nothing like it. She’d never been more intoxicated in her life. That was the night Spixworth tried to tell her he liked her. She’d pushed him away.

  Alice rubbed the back of her lab glove over her eyes and then swore softly as she realized what she’d done. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be running any more experiments. She moved a rack of test tubes to the center of the bench, blocking the camera’s view of the sensor. The drum of methanol sat beneath her station. She strapped in to the nearby seat and pulled a small laser scalpel from the tool kit. She looked over at Dr. Cardiff. One more chance, she thought.

  “What if Issk’ath is lying?” she asked.

  “Hmm?” Dr. Cardiff looked up.


  “What if it’s lying about its people? Or it doesn’t know and there are more of them somewhere?”

  Dr. Cardiff shrugged. “Then future exploratory missions will encounter them and develop a way to work with them, I suppose. Why would a robot lie?”

  “To protect them or to hide them from us,” said Alice, thumbing the scalpel’s switch.

  The doctor shook her head. “But it showed us their nest. Even if it was empty, it still gave us information. It exposed their habits and society, their food chain— even their biological structures. If it wanted to protect them, that seems an odd strategy. Still— this is to be bothering you more than the others. You have brought it up multiple times now.” She leaned toward Alice and stared intently at her. “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say Issk’ath believes we are a danger to its people or the planet. Wouldn’t it be… redemptive to prove that we are not our ancestors? To show that we are different from what our history suggests?”

  “Perhaps. But should this new planet pay the cost if we fail? It doesn’t owe us a chance at that redemption.”

  Dr. Cardiff shook her head. “We’re never going to agree on this, are we?”

  “I guess not,” said Alice sadly. “I’m feeling a little beat. I think I’ll hit the rack, Dr. Cardiff.”

  The laser scalpel hummed softly as she clicked it on. Dr. Cardiff nodded and wished her a good night before turning back to her report. Alice made a slice in the drum of methanol at her knee, then quietly replaced the scalpel in the toolkit. She tipped the container and smashed in the side of the plastic with her foot. A quick, furtive glance at the drum showed a steady, silent stream of the liquid streaming into the area under the desk. Alice held her breath and made a show of quickly tidying her workspace. Then she floated out of the lab, exhaling slowly as the airtight doors slid shut behind her. She checked on Leroux, who was already asleep. No danger of interference there then. She set her watch for two hours and velcroed herself into the bunk thinking of what would come next. Unless she was very lucky, Titov wouldn’t wander into the lab any time soon and she’d have to vent it after Cardiff’s exposure to cover her tracks. She’d have to find another method for him. And for Al Jahi.

  She rolled onto her side to face the wall. She hadn’t enjoyed killing Stratton, but he was the captain. Their leader. If he couldn’t be depended on to do what was right, then his death was necessary. She could live with it. Spixworth was a friend, and Alice missed him. But his death had been fast, almost accidental. Almost. The ramp had been narrow, crumbling. And Cardiff— the doctor was a stranger at best. She had no business butting in. She was not aboard to make decisions about the planet. She should have kept her mouth shut. But Titov— Alice bit back a sob. He just wanted to help his kid. That was all. Just wanted a world where his kid didn’t hurt anymore. He didn’t want to build cities or clear cut or suck all the goodness out of the soil. Alice cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. Peter wasn’t going to be saved by the planet. It was too late, he was already Spindling like so many others. They’d die with the extra weight. Titov would bring his son to the colony and then watch him slowly be crushed by the very air. But Alice could stop that. She could take the agonizing decision from him. He’d never have to decide whether to watch Peter gradually wither on the Keseburg or collapse on the planet. It was kinder this way. Alice tucked the sheet over her shoulder and fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Come on, Andrei, if we play in the lock, then we keep the robot entertained and Emery can play. Maybe Liu too,” said Blick rattling the box of tokens.

  Titov gave a begrudging nod. “All right. It’s just so frigid in there.”

  Blick shrugged. “So grab an incubation cube from the lab.”

  “Nah. Liu will yell. The power relays on that side of the ship are old and faulty. Too much in that section will make the bridge consoles shut off. The whole ship is falling apart. Do you know we couldn’t get the drain suction working the other day in the lab? And Oxwell swears the water lines have something living in them. They groan and sputter constantly.”

  “Shh,” scolded Blick, patting the corridor wall, “it can hear you. Bad luck to criticize our ride.”

  “Superstitious nonsense.”

  “So, equipment lock or what?”

  Titov thought for a moment. “I guess I can make a little heater. We’ll have to sit on it, it’s not very radiant— I need to borrow your blanket.”

  Blick snorted a laugh. “Why mine? Use yours.”

  “I will , but I need two.”

  “Yeah, okay, we’re not going to need it after tomorrow anyway.”

  Titov grinned. “You get the others. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “All right, can’t wait to take your last credits.”

  “You talk big,” said Titov hurrying away, “but you play a lousy game.”

  “Hey, Andrei—” called Blick after him, “You aren’t going to blow anything up, are you?”

  “Nah,” yelled Titov, “perfectly safe. Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

  Titov could see Dr. Cardiff through the lab windows. The doors slid open and she sneezed as he slid in. “Uh-oh,” he said, “You better get Leroux to give you a check. Don’t want to bring anything home.”

  The doctor shook her head. “It isn’t a cold. It’s only in here. The air is so dry.”

  Titov sniffed but shrugged. “Must be the air cycler. We got too used to wild air.”

  “Wild air?” asked Cardiff with a smile.

  “Yeah, wild and free. Unrecycled.”

  Cardiff laughed. “You could probably market that. Titov’s wild air.”

  He piled the blankets onto his workbench, clamping them in place. He began pulling out components, shaking the container of magnesium. Enough, but just. He felt a flash of guilt at using it for something so frivolous. Whole planet now, he told himself, won’t have to rely on the printers anymore. “Where are Leroux and Oxwell?” he asked, mostly to distract himself.

  “They went to bed, oh, almost two hours ago.”

  He turned to her. “Were you waiting for Leroux?”

  Dr. Cardiff shook her head. “No, I needed her report on Hackford. And then I stayed because it was quieter here than on the bridge.”

  “Ah,” he said turning back to find the iron shavings.

  “But,” Cardiff groaned with a stretch, “I think I’m done now. I’ve started a headache and I’m getting dizzy.”

  “Time for some sleep, I’d say,” answered Titov. “We’ve still got forty hours, plenty of time for those reports.”

  “Yeah,” yawned Cardiff, sucking in a deep breath. “You’re probably right. I’ll see you later.” She wandered over to the door.

  “Good night doc,” Titov called. The door slid open and then shut again. He whipped out the bottom blanket in a fluttering billow over the floor to spread it out. Peter used to love that. He’d curl up in the center of his bed and Titov would pretend not to see him and make the bed around him, leaving a giggling lump that wriggled and untucked the corners. Titov smiled. Peter was too old for that game now. The blanket floated in front of him and Titov pushed it down toward the floor, tying the corners to the foot straps. He turned to grab the chemicals. When he returned to the blanket, he saw it darkening with moisture. Large clear bubbles of liquid hovered below his bent knees. He reached down and touched one and it splashed around his finger.

  “Ah, Flaming Core,” he sighed, “decrepit old flyer. Did you spring a leak?” Did the autocleaner malfunction? He glanced up at the misters, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Titov put his containers back on the workbench. No point mixing them now, the water would cause the reaction early. He had to dry the blanket first. An incubation cube sat near the infirmary cots. He grabbed it and connected it, spinning it on. It would take a few minutes to warm up, so he decided to find out what had leaked and followed the puddle of liquid. It stretched across the space, disappearing in the dark cubby below Oxwell’s bench. H
e swam down toward the deck to look for the source.

  “Earth’s Holy Oceans, Alice, did you burst a hose?” he swore aloud. “You’re a flaming waste of elements, Wolfinger. You hear that Blick? A flaming waste.” He wedged himself under the countertop, his knees hitting the cold liquid. He pushed the drums of chemicals aside, checking the connectors with his fingers as he did. They felt whole but he couldn’t see the water hose in the cramped dark space. He flipped on the filament but the light beam was just above where he needed it. Titov swore again and fumbled above his head with one hand for the equipment kit. The magnifier floated away from his fingers. “Soil and Rain, may the Galactic Void swallow it whole—” He fumbled with the filament pulling it left and then down before finally unwinding it from his head and angling it with his hand. The incubating cube began to hum softly as it reached temperature. A slow, comfortable warmth plumed from it and washed over Titov. He grunted and wriggled farther in, holding out the flimsy wire to light up the hoses in the back. They seemed intact. Titov sucked in a deep sigh and froze. The sharp tingle of alcohol had met his nostrils. He backed up suddenly. The incubating cube— A container beside him sloshed as his shoulder bumped it. He felt the chilly trickle of liquid on his arm just as he turned, jerking the light up to the deep slash in the drum. The light was shaking as he raised it farther to the patchy red label at the top.

  Methanol. Oh, shi—

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “You should never make a bet with a pilot, Blick. You should know that by now,” laughed Liu. “We have too much time on our hands and only gambling to occupy it.”

  “Sure, you may have had practice,” said Blick sorting the tokens on the magnetic table, “but I know two things you don’t.”

  “And what’s that?” Liu leaned his back against a stack of crates, his legs floating freely beneath the table.

  “First, Titov is terrible at Trojan Relay. He’s all yours. And second, I’ve got a secret weapon.”