“She’s his prize pony.”
Kal snorted. “Noor isn’t anyone’s pony.”
“I don’t mean in reality. I mean in his own messed-up head.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Though Kal didn’t really know what Gunn meant.
“Unless he’s so jealous he did it.”
“What?”
“Sabotaged Noor.”
Kal thought this over. “He saved her.”
Gunn shrugged.
“You think the worst of him,” Kal said. The crew members who disliked Yarick were stacking up. She got it—she’d had her own run-in—but not the extent he rubbed everyone the wrong way. Noor’s attitude, she understood. Noor had worked with him and had her own good reasons. He had saved her, which seemed a mitigating factor, though it was something any decent person would try to do. Risked his life, even. If he’d got stuck in the airlock, it might have ended badly for both of them.
“Don’t you?” Gunn darted a piercing look at Kal that told her she hadn’t missed a thing.
Kal looked away. “I guess.”
“Anyway, I don’t think you should be working that late.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not good for you. It’s not good for Captain Sarno. You both need your sleep. Especially now. You look tired. The captain looks tired.” Gunn did not sway in her chair. Her two feet were planted firmly on the ground.
For Gunn to make this observation, who was not the most perceptive of others’ needs or expressions, was unsettling.
Kal stated the obvious. “Someone needed to cover the bridge.”
“I could have done it from the start.”
“You’re right.” It didn’t hurt to admit Gunn was right about something. Much.
“I know I am.”
Kal sat for a panicky moment wondering what Gunn could know. Had she seen them? Had she been somewhere there in the darkness and seen them on their way from the bridge to the Tube? Kal got hot and uncomfortable all over just thinking about it.
With a grunt Gunn muscled herself out of the chair and went on her way.
At some point on her way back to the bridge, Kal realized she had begun to perceive things as if outside herself—what with the shocks, the sleeplessness, the disappointment—she could hardly feel her own hands and feet, let alone think straight. Maybe Gunn was even more right than Kal had given her credit for about the sleep.
On the bridge Gwendy and Sasha were in consultation over trajectories. Kal knew Sasha was concerned about the shortcut, and was doubtless more concerned now she didn’t trust Rai.
Gwendy was speaking. “It will take a while to work through the calculations.”
“Can you do it?”
“Yes.”
“On the spiral?”
The spiral, another layer of protection, the network apart from Rai. It was one of the many failsafes that were an essential feature of space travel. Now, Kal could see all too clearly why.
“If you want.”
“I do. I don’t want any surprises. Calculate mythian flares, asteroid behavior, fuel shortage, missing the slingshot, everything.”
“All right.” Gwendy must know something was up, but she presented her usual unworried demeanor. If anything, she became more even and calm when there was an air of concern, as was characteristic of most space flight veterans. Her deep golden skin, dark brown eyes, and chin-length braided hair were striking. Tall, with a ground-covering stride, she was a former athlete, like several of the travelers. Kal knew she and Chyron had become tight pre-mission. Though very different in appearance, Gwendy and Chyron shared a Creole background.
Gwendy and the captain’s way was the only way to be in an emergency. Kal reminded herself of that fact and took a breath.
Gunn worked in the astrolab every afternoon on the fifth, top level of the ship, collating data from sensor stations that had been put into action by the previous reconnaissance and biohab missions. She took in the data and compared it with previous sets, asking Rai for insight now and then.
She was projecting her data into multi-dimensional astronomic representation spheres, admiring the scatter of new points and waves from a nearby sector, when Sif came in.
“More arrays?” Sif said.
“Yes.” Gunn’s tone told Sif she was interrupting.
Sif stood there watching.
Gunn stood up straight from her position hovering over the sphere. “You need something?” she asked finally.
“The physio in the gym is broken.”
Gunn didn’t show her displeasure. “Why isn’t Inger telling me?”
As ship’s doctor, Inger was responsible for everyone’s physical well-being and had the most to do with the gym equipment, as she created routines for everyone, though it was known Gunn was the one who usually fixed anything broken.
Sif’s eyes widened a fraction. “Yarick broke it. I was the next to use it so I’m telling you.”
“You didn’t report it to Inger?”
“I thought you could fix it and I wouldn’t have to report it to Inger.”
Sif gave what Gunn imagined Sif thought was a beguiling smile.
“No chance,” Gunn muttered.
“What?”
Gunn didn’t fall for Sif’s wood sprite persona, fellow Icelander or not, though most others did. People knocked themselves out trying to aid and abet Sif. Gunn was sorry for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to like Sif anymore. Sif had shed her old life, her old people, without a backward glance. It was her right, but she couldn’t go back and act like nothing had changed, as far as Gunn was concerned. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
Sif looked bemused the conversation had lasted this long. “I don’t think he knew he’d broken it.”
Now Gunn reacted. She made of face of disbelief. “Remember who he is. He didn’t know the physio was broken?”
Sif’s voice was uninterested. “If he did, he didn’t care enough to tell someone. Or maybe he wanted a reason not to use it.”
Gunn scowled at the sphere. Her concentration was broken. “All right.” She swiped her hand over the projection, dimming it to darkness.
“You don’t have to come now,” Sif said.
“You’ve interrupted me. I’m doing what you ask.”
Sif’s expression said Gunn was not being a sister of Iceland. She followed in Gunn’s wake as Gunn took the spiraling ramp downward, downward, Sif a step behind, probably sulking, Gunn thought. Gunn increased her pace. The astrolab, with its spectacular view of the starfield around and overhead, was at the highest level, so they had two levels to descend to the gymnasium.
Once there, Gunn paused at the entrance. Sif caught up, slightly breathless.
“Should I get him?” Sif asked, trying to make amends.
“What do we need him for?” Gunn’s dripping tone made Sif smile and tilt her head at Gunn, as if she were charming.
Gunn wouldn’t fall for that. “Show me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t. It almost threw me off.”
“Impossible, if you’re strapped in suspension.”
“The harness released.”
Gunn looked at Sif for the first time since they’d left the lab. “What do you mean, released?”
“Just what I said.”
“While you were in motion?”
“No,” Sif said.
They both knew she’d probably be dead if that happened, emergency shutoff or not.
Gunn rolled her shoulders. She approached the gyrometric physio machine. Circling, she looked it all over. The two hoops that formed the floating rings of the device were in their usual default position when the machine was not in use, like two huge circular bracelets one inside the other, at ninety degree angles to each other until the user was inside and activated them. The inner hoop had a four-point attachment to secure the harness and the person within. A larger, thicker half-circle sat as the base for the hoops.
“He could have been killed,” Gunn said. “So could you. It was negligence
not to notify us.”
Sif regarded the physio, her face solemn. “Yes.”
“It must be taken out of service.”
“Can’t you fix it?”
“I can probably fix it, but I don’t know if it should be in use.”
“We could test it. It’s important, especially for someone in rehabilitation. For all of us.”
“I know.” Gunn was irritable again. Sif could be so pedantic these days. Did she think she was so much smarter, now she was a citizen of the world, not just Iceland?
“I’ll tell the captain. If you want,” Sif said.
Gunn eyed her, looking for any sly implication. Sif knew Gunn was territorial over Sasha.
“Fine,” she said, to thwart Sif’s expectation.
Sif raised her eyebrows. “I’ll go do it now.” She backed away from the machine as if it had some malevolent force that should be faced.
“Tell Inger, too,” Gunn threw over her shoulder.
“Right,” Sif said, in a more subdued tone.
Gunn smiled to herself, but it faded to a grimace as she continued to look at the physio. Sif was right. It had to be fixed.
That day at lunch, Yarick wasn’t there. It was a nice change. Some aura of tension seemed to follow him around the ship, Sasha had noticed, from person to person, group to group. Though Sasha hadn’t been able to pin down where it came from, she realized it was probably because there was more than one source of animus toward him or from him. It was concerning, something to discuss with Chyron. They couldn’t afford much antagonism on a trip like this. Sasha wanted to enjoy the silence, but she felt obliged to have someone check on him.
“Rai, could you ask Yarick if he’s coming to the midday meal, please?”
Rai said, “Yarick Cole is not visible, Captain Sarno.”
“Not visible?”
“He’s not present on imaging.”
“Where was he last?”
“Entering the park.”
“All right.” She scanned the mess, looking for someone who wouldn’t have a problem going to look for him. There were a lot of people she skipped over. Yarick had made his presence felt.
“Sif?” She didn’t know of any particular grudge there. Sif came over, holding her protein drink. “Would you please have a look for Yarick in the park, if you don’t mind.”
Sif raised an eyebrow but exited without a word.
Gwendy was cutting into her pancake morosely. Sasha knew she loved breakfast for lunch.
“What’s up, Gwen?” Sasha asked.
Gwendy put her knife down. The pancake had an arced parabola cut precisely through it. A line of syrup circled the cake like a planetary aurora.
“Having a hard time getting your mind off work?” Sasha said.
“You could say that.”
“Anything wrong?”
Gwendy pursed her mouth and shook her head.
Sasha took a bite of applesauce and thought about the vibe she got from Gwendy. They would have to talk later. But where? Would she have to kiss more members of crew to have privacy from Rai? The thought took her off guard and she choked on her applesauce as she tried not to laugh.
Gwendy patted her on the back, which made it worse, as Sasha imagined turning this moment into some kind of foreplay. What would Rai think? Did Rai have opinions about people?
As she got the applesauce down and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, she leaned back in her chair. What did Rai think about them all? Rai always seemed above opinion, in an abstract realm of facts and odds, not judgment. Did she judge Sasha for last night? Was she designed to report such irregularities? While they were in dark phase, she couldn’t.
Someone set a cup of tea down in front of her. She looked up and saw Kal walking away, another cup of tea in her own hand for herself. Gwendy noticed. Kal had never brought her tea before. Sasha pulled the tea closer and took a restoring sip.
Rapid footsteps approached behind her. Before she could look around she felt a hand on her shoulder. At first she thought it was Kal. Who else would touch her? But it wasn’t. It was Sif. Sif leaned over her shoulder, speaking in her ear. “Captain, something’s happened. I need you.”
Noor. She had never heard Sif rattled. Setting down her tea, she got out of her chair and walked out with Sif, without making a scene of it, her chest tight.
Together they strode to the lift, Sif leading. “I already got Inger, told her to go down…” she swallowed. “Oh, Sasha.”
“What is it?”
As the lift closed and brought them down she could study Sif’s face. Sif was already an otherworldly shade of pale, but now her face was bloodless, except her almost purple lips.
“Noor?” Sasha said, dreading the answer.
“It’s Yarick.” Sif stopped, looked as if she might be unable to go on for a moment. Sasha regarded her in concern. Sif was never emotional. “I think he’s dead.”
“You think he’s dead?” Sasha repeated dumbly.
“He’s dead, Sasha. He’s dead.”
“How?”
Sif shook her head.
Sasha felt the knot in her chest contract, an uncomfortable clench of dread. Yarick dead. On board her ship.
6
Interregnum
As they approached the park Sasha could see Inger standing near the circle of tallest trees, looking down. Inger did not turn to look until they were almost upon her. Sasha followed the line of where Inger had been looking, down to the ground. Yarick lay against a tree, his upper body propped against it, his legs sticking straight out in front of him on the grassy hillock around the tree. He was dressed as he usually was, in trousers, a white linen shirt, a tweed jacket. One hand was curled against his stomach, as if he were cradling something there, the other lay stretched out beside him on the ground, palm up.
His head lolled against the tree, mouth open a little. His eyes were fixed at some indeterminate point ahead, lids partly closed, one eye a little more open than the other, which gave his sightless gaze a malevolent air of one-eyed focus on an object of scorn. His lower face was slack, his forehead contracted. A dribble of drool had leaked out and was beginning to dry on his chin.
Sasha looked at Inger. Inger’s gaze was fixed on him with an expression Sasha couldn’t decipher. “What happened?” Sasha said.
Inger didn’t take her eyes off the body. “I don’t know.”
“How long has he been dead?”
“Not long.”
Sasha waited, but Inger didn’t say more. “Did he have a heart attack?”
“I suppose it’s possible.”
“Inger? Are you all right?”
She blinked and dragged her focus away from Yarick. “Yes, of course. I’m only thinking of what must be done.”
Sasha had never had someone die in flight. Yarick was on the less-fit side for interplanetary travel, but not out of the ordinary. A rigorous pre-flight check was done on every passenger. He wouldn’t have had any obvious warning signs. “A stroke?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to get him on the table.”
Sasha swung her head around to look behind her. Sif was sitting on one of the benches, her elbows on her knees, bent over looking sick. “You can go, Sif. Please keep this to yourself for now.”
“Yes, Captain.” She slipped away.
“Inger, is it natural causes?”
“I don’t know yet.” Inger’s voice was thin and impatient.
Sasha stepped away from Yarick’s body. “Come here.”
Inger dragged herself away. Her face was rigid.
“What’s wrong?” Sasha said. “Besides the obvious.”
“I have a bad feeling.”
“Since when?”
“Since I walked in here.” When she saw Sasha was about to speak again, Inger spoke sooner. “I can’t speculate.”
“Why not?”
“Either way, it’s bad.”
“The procedure here will be very different if we suspect some kind of…interferen
ce. I’ll need to cordon the area and begin an investigation. It’s not simple. I need to determine that now and I have to be on the safe side. This will need to be investigated as a suspicious death unless somehow you can be sure.”
“I can’t be sure.” Inger’s voice was curt but she had lost the bite to her tone. “Who’s qualified to investigate?”
Sasha folded her arms. “The only one with experience is Kal. She was in an investigative unit at some point during her time in the military.”
“I suppose this is very rare,” Inger said, her eyes unfocused and sightless. “On board ship. I’ve lost people, but never—”
“Yes. Very rare.” Sasha stared at the ground. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Yarick’s foot. “I’ll seal the park. We should go together. From now on we’ll observe a protocol.”
Inger snapped to. “Yes, Captain.”
Sasha walked a little closer to Yarick. She crouched down near him. She hadn’t liked him. It was terrible to see him dead. It had been under her command. She was responsible.
“Alas, poor Yarick. We knew him…not so well.”
“What?” Inger said, from behind.
“Nothing. Did you touch anything?”
“I felt for his pulse on his neck.”
“A shock wouldn’t have helped? Or a shot?”
“He’s begun to cool.”
Sasha took a last look. It was strange to have him next to her yet so silent. “Okay. After we set a crew, we’ll cordon this off. See what Kal has to say.”
They walked together out of the park. Sasha shut the large door that usually remained open between the atrium and the park. She used her fingerprint to seal it. It was a strange sensation, sealing him in alone.
“How’s Noor?”
“She’s stable. I plan to bring her round tomorrow. When can I do the postmortem?”
“As soon as Kal is done with the scene.” The scene. Scene of crime. “Go ahead to the mess. I’ll meet you and Kal outside it in a few minutes.”
Inger nodded and headed toward the mess. Sasha took the spiral up to the bridge.
The bridge was deserted. She called up the holo for the park that morning. Skimming through it, she saw Yarick amble in, sit against the tree he’d been found next to, and start reading his book. Sif entered and walked a loop, passing within hailing range of Yarick, but not stopping. Then, static. Then nothing.
Starship to Demeter (Starship Portals Book 1) Page 5