Faring Soul - Science Fiction Romance (9 page)

Lilita brushed off her hands and put
her tools away. “So you found me,” she prompted.

“We’re going to be in the Soward system
in a few days. Catherine implied…well, she didn’t even do that
much. She failed to point out how we would be able to slide Kemp
past the gatekeepers on Soward’s terminal.”

“Probably means we’re not,” Lilita said
and got to her feet.

Brant nodded. “Does that mean they’re
actually going to land this ship on the surface?”

Lilita grinned at him. “You’re a real
sod dog aren’t you? Why can’t we land on the surface?”

“Ships just don’t.”

“Federation ships don’t, but they’re
all monstrous great vessels, built in space and not meant to
withstand atmospheric maneuvers. Some of the really big ones are
more than a kilometer long, so one end would be in zero gravity
while the other is pulled down toward the surface as soon as it
hits the gravity well. It would snap like a circuit board.”

“So this ship can land?”

She leaned against the server and cross
her arms. “It was probably
built
in gravity. Once upon a
time,
all
ships landed. All the colonial ships are designed
to land because new worlds don’t have their own station yet. The
ones that can’t land dock with a ship kept in orbit until the world
gets its act together and builds a proper dock.”

She spoke with a tone of authority that
said she knew what she was talking about.

“You’ve pioneered?” he asked, confused.
Bedivere had said that Lilita was very young.

“I’m thinking about it, so I spent a
year or so researching.”

He drew in a slow breath, absorbing
once more the long-life viewpoint of most people. “To spend a whole
year just finding out….”

Her expression sobered. “I guess a year
is a long chunk out of your time, isn’t it?”

“I’m content with my lot,” he said
quickly.

“Really? Why did you leave Gry if
you’re so happy with the Staffers’ creed?”

“It’s the administration of the
doctrine that I wasn’t happy with.”

“So Cat said. But you don’t
proselytize. If you’re such a believer, why don’t you try to
convince others?”

Brant almost laughed. “I don’t have
to.”

Lilita frowned again.

“How many children have you had?”

She looked indignant.

“I’m demonstrating a point,” he said
gently.

Lilita grimaced. “Five.”

Brant hesitated. “You don’t look that
old. Not to have had so many and learned engineering, too.”

“I’m seventy-five, little one.” He
could hear the laughter in her voice.

“All your children are College-raised,
yes?”

“Of course. What children aren’t?”

Brant raised a brow.

“Staffers. Stupid me,” Lilita
muttered.

“You’re already living within the
precepts of Glave of Summanus,” he pointed out.

“I’m College-bred myself,” Lilita said
gently, as if he was particularly stupid. “Having babies goes with
the territory.”

“Exactly,” Brant agreed. “And look at
you. You’re full of flesh and life, a natural beauty.”

She smiled, accepting the compliment,
but she didn’t pursue it, which supported her age. Someone younger
and less experienced might have read more into his comment than was
there.

“Did you know that before the
Interregnum, humans were barely human anymore?”

“Ancient history.”

“But quite true. There are records and
images from those times that I have seen. Humans modified
themselves back then. They added plug-ins and enhancements, they
adapted themselves in ways that distorted the race. Humans were
unrecognizable.”

“And they stopped breeding,” she
added.

“Of course. Your college education
would not have neglected that part of it. Humans stopped breeding.
They were living longer. Rejuvenation for women, the body
regeneration for men…people put off having children because, well,
what was the rush?”

“Until the number of humans declined
nearly to the point of extinction, which was when Glave stepped up
and started preaching about saving the human race,” Lilita finished
impatiently.

“The largest danger to humans were the
modifications,” Brant said. “Many humans had modified and adapted
themselves to the point where they could no longer breed. But now,
children are plentiful and good citizens like you add yearly to
their number. The human race is unmodified and pure.”

“Just like Glave insisted…” Lilita said
slowly.

“Except for the longevity therapies,
which humans are incapable of giving up.” He gave her a small
smile. “I don’t need to proselytize. You’re already living Glave’s
ideals. Staffers just take it one step farther.”

“You let yourself die.”

He took a deep breath. “Just like
Glave, we let ourselves die.”

Keogard System. FY 10.070

“For a pilot, you do very little
piloting,” Brant said, as Cat thrust her foot into the leg of the
environment suit. Brant was struggling into a suit of his own and
had his back to her.

She stood and pushed her arms into the
sleeves. “I’ve taught Bedivere everything I know. He’s actually
better at it than me. His reactions are faster. Besides, I’m a
better fighter.”

“So he navigates
and
pilots?”

“Not for jumps.” She fastened the suit.
“There’s too much to do. Even with Lilita, it’s a stretch.”

“I have noticed the fourth station at
the back of the flight deck. Who is that designed for?”

“It’s a redundancy thing. The fourth
person does double-checks and takes some of the details off the
other three. If one of us is out of commission, they can step in.”
She picked up the hard case on the bench beside her and tethered it
to the waist of her suit, using the rings set into the suit. It
hung, banging her knees.

“So the fourth person must know all
three trades?” Brant had his head down, studying the
fastenings.

“Enough to fill in at a pinch. That’s
why we haven’t found anyone yet. No, don’t pull your hair out of
the neck,” she warned.

Brant dropped his hands away from the
back of his head. “Helmets, too?” he asked as she held out one
toward him. “We’re going…what was it you said? Twenty-five
meters?”

“With no gravity and a thin membrane to
hold in atmosphere.”

“So we could actually walk across
without either suit or helmet,” he said.

There was a solid thud that sounded on
the other side of the wall. Bedivere’s voice issued from the wall
speaker. “Umbilical attached and we’re equalizing. Give it a
minute.”

“I don’t trust molecular membranes,”
Catherine told Brant and unlocked the inner door. There was a
slight hiss as air rushed into the lock area. “A blast of the wrong
sort of radiation and it all collapses and you lose your oh-two. I
would rather breathe hose air for a few minutes than risk it.”

“I’ve heard of molecular membranes. I
understand the theory.” Brant studied the helmet for a few seconds,
then put it on the right way around and connected it without
fumbling.

Catherine pressed the button on his
chest. “You should feel cool air under your chin,” she said.

He nodded.

She put on her own helmet and adjusted
the air flow. “Hear me?”

“Yes,” Brant confirmed.

“If you’ve never seen a molecular
membrane at work, this will feel a little odd to you. Just hold
onto the guide rails and look down at your feet.” She opened the
outer door, using extra effort to crank on the handle. It didn’t
hiss because the air had been equalized on both sides. Even so, she
found she was holding her breath as she stepped out.

She moved forward along the narrow
catwalk to make room for Brant. The gravity from the ship extended
for a couple of meters beyond the hull, but she could already feel
the upward tug as her body lightened. The case next to her knees
stirred.

Brant stepped out, automatically
ducking under the doorway, which showed how new he was to suit
walking. He glanced over his shoulder. “Shut the lock?” he
asked.

“Yes.” She came up behind him as he
turned to shut the inner door and they both maneuvered the outer
door closed. “Bedivere, you can seal the airlock. It’s secure.”

There was a deep mechanical thud that
she could feel through her gloved hand on the hull. She stepped
past Brant, who was standing and staring ahead and moved along the
catwalk until just before gravity ended and looked at him. He was
gazing up overhead.

There was an unnamed planet hanging
overhead, a big angry orange ball that swirled reds and purples
over its incredibly hot surface. Beyond that was Keogard, a yellow
star that shone steadily and brightly.

Catherine pointed at it. “That’s why
you got the radiation shot when you started with us. There’s no
atmosphere here to provide a barrier. Only a meter or so of
air.”

“There’s nothing around us!” Brant’s
voice lifted higher than usual.

“There’s a molecular membrane holding
in the air. You can’t see it. But the frames are holding the
membrane in place.” She pointed to the circular frames that were
attached to the catwalk every few meters, making the skeleton of a
tunnel. “Hold the handrail and pull yourself along. C’mon.”

She didn’t give him time to absorb it
all and react. Instead, she moved ahead and gripped the rail as her
feet came off the metal walkway and lifted up behind her. She
hauled herself along the catwalk, moving hand-over-hand along the
right-hand rail.

The other end of the catwalk was
attached to another airlock, built into the side of an
irregular-shaped structure. There had been no attempt to create
symmetry. The structure had been built long after artificial
gravity was common and cheap. The only concern when designing the
exterior had been protection from space elements—radiation,
particles and debris and other matter. The walls were double-hulled
like a ships’, thick and sturdy.

“Oh….oh!” Brant muttered behind her and
Catherine glanced over her shoulder. He had stepped beyond the
gravity and was clutching both the left and right rails, his boots
lifting up high behind him and tipping him upside down.

“Pull yourself along and your feet will
level out,” Catherine told him. Her own feet, now she had stopped,
were rising very slightly.

“This is…very odd,” he said and started
pulling himself along, using both rails. His arms were long enough
for it. But he kept glancing up at the planet overhead.

“Stop looking up. Every movement you
make creates an opposite reaction. You’re making more work for
yourself. Just look at me and pull.”

“It feels like that world is going to
land on us,” he said.

“It’s been there forever. You’ll get
used to it.” She turned and pulled herself along the path.

“Membrane integrity is still good,”
Bedivere reported in her ear and she smiled. He knew how much she
hated them.

“Thank Glave for that!” Brant spoke
breathlessly.

“Have you knocked on the door yet,
Bedivere?” she asked.

“Sibéal has acknowledged and is
waiting.”

“Good,” Brant muttered.

The artificial gravity of Sibéal’s
place extended farther than the field generated by the ship.
Catherine felt herself being pulled downward and used the handrail
to flip so that her feet made contact first. The case gracefully
floated down to her side. Then she walked to the outer hull and
turned to wait for Brant.

Brant had figured out how to move with
the most efficiency and was only a meter behind her. But when he
reached the gravity field, he was unprepared. His head dipped down
toward the metal walkway and as he was still moving forward,
inertia tumbled him over. As his feet completed the cartwheel, they
moved into the field of gravity as well and thumped down onto the
plating. Brant stayed still for a moment.

“Very elegant,” Bedivere observed.

“Give him his due,” Catherine replied.
“That was his first spacewalk.”

“Thank you,” Brant said, still sounding
breathless, as she helped him up.

The outer door of the airlock rose
upward, showing a tiny lock room beyond. “It’ll be a squeeze,”
Catherine warned and stepped inside.

“After being out here, it will feel
wonderful,” Brant said.

There was just room for both of them
and the hard case between them. The outer door slid downward and
thudded closed. Then a light flashed red on the inner door and it
slid open.

Catherine stepped over the sill into
the room beyond. Sibéal was standing waiting for them and Catherine
unlocked her helmet and removed it with a sigh of relief and smiled
at the tiny woman.

Sibéal smiled back, showing her pointed
teeth. “Cat Shahrazad,” she said. Her voice was high, piping like a
child’s and despite the angled tattoos that graced most of her
body, she looked like a teenager.

Brant unhooked his helmet and removed
it.

“This is the one, the one, the one?”
Sibéal asked.

“This is Brant, a member of my crew,”
Catherine said. She touched her ear so that Sibéal and Brant would
both know she was not addressing either of them. “Bedivere, we’re
inside.”

“Good. I’ll prep for the jump while
you’re finishing up. Don’t be long.”

She frowned. “Problems?”

“Nothing I can point at right now.”

Catherine smiled at Sibéal again. “It
is so very good to see you again, Sibéal. You’ve rejuvenated since
we last met.”

Sibéal looked down at her shoulder and
grinned. “It is good. Let’s me work.”

“I’m afraid we must get right down to
the business at hand,” Catherine said. She lifted the hard case. “I
have this for you.”

Sibéal drew in a breath that whistled,
as her eyes and mouth grew very round. “You got it!”

“I said I would.” Catherine held the
case out to her. “There’s an environment bubble inside. You can
open it and inspect.”