Galaxy Blues (28 page)

“Ali wigged out when Jas said that you and Rain should've been left behind. Happened right after you docked.” Emily sighed, shook her head. “I know, I know. It's stupid, but…guess the pressure finally got to him.” I nodded, regretting the fact that I'd neglected to mention Ash's warning to anyone. Stupid of me not to have taken him more seriously. “At any rate,” she went on, “I'm just glad you made it back in time to take over the helm.”

“Yeah, well…so am I.” I looked around the med bay. “Where's Rain?”

“Don't know. Maybe in her cabin. She looked pretty beat.” She glanced at me. “How did it go down there?”

“Piece of cake.” I was too tired to talk about it; just then, all I really wanted to do was get a shirt for Ted, then have something to eat and maybe catch a few winks. I looked at Ali again. “How long do you think it'll be until he's up and about?”

“Not soon enough for him to do his job again, if that's what you're asking.” Emily smiled, patted my shoulder. “Don't fret about it. Ted and I will take turns at the helm until you've had a chance to recuperate.”

I thanked her, then left the med bay and went up to Deck Two. A quick stop by Ted's cabin to grab a shirt from his bag, then I headed for the access shaft again…but not before I stopped at Rain's quarters. The cabin door was shut. I lingered outside for a moment, considering whether or not I should knock, before deciding that I owed her a nap. I hadn't seen Ash since we'd returned, but his cabin was quiet as well. I figured that he'd probably passed out again.

Ted was still at the helm when I returned to the bridge. He was grateful for the shirt, but he said that he didn't need to have me take over again. So I went back down to Deck Two, where I went about making myself some lunch in the wardroom. I was about halfway through a tomato and cheese sandwich when the door slammed open and Morgan barged in.

“Who do you think you are, jettisoning those modules without my permission?”

I took my time swallowing what was in my mouth before answering him, “You're welcome.”

That brought him up short. “What?”

“Oh, I'm sorry…I thought you'd come to thank me.” I pushed aside the rest of my sandwich. “I asked what you'd give for me to save your life. You said anything, and I assumed that would include the cargo.” I picked up a napkin and wiped my mouth. “Silly me. Didn't know you thought
gnoshes
were more important than your skin.”

Morgan scowled at me. “That was completely unnecessary. We could've gotten away without…”

“Probably not. Once we shed the extra mass, the ship was able to reach escape velocity…but not before then.” I wadded up the napkin and pitched it at the disposal chute, and got two points for a perfect shot. “Ask the skipper if you don't believe me. It was his decision, not mine.”

Ted couldn't have picked a better moment to call. Morgan was still mustering a retort when my headset chirped.
“Jules, where are you right now?”

“Wardroom,” I replied. “Need me back up there?”

“Negatory. Stay where you are but turn on the monitors. I'm going to patch you into the aft cams…there's something you really ought to see.”

Standing up from my chair, I reached up to switch on the flatscreens above the table…and promptly forgot how to breathe. Displayed on the screens was a departure-angle view. With the cargo modules gone, the ship's stern was clearly visible, yet it wasn't that Ted wanted me to see.

Now that we'd put some distance between ourselves and Kasimasta, it once again resembled a cyclopean eye. Kha-Zann had disappeared, and a chill trickled down my back as I realized that the small world upon which I'd walked only a few hours earlier had been reduced to little more than dust and rubble. And now the Annihilator's angry glare was fixed upon Aerik.

The superjovian was no longer a distinct sphere, but rather a bauble at the end of an immense rope. Captured by the intense attraction of the rogue black hole, the planet was being pulled apart; a vast blue-white stream of gas flowed outward from what had once been its equator, curling across space to become part of Kasimasta's ever-expanding accretion belt. It was impossible to tell with the naked eye, but I didn't need the ship's sensors to know that Aerik's mass had already been reduced by half.

“Oh, my…” Morgan stared at the screens as if not quite believing the vast forces on display. “It's…it's…”

“Yup. Ain't it, though?” I pointed to the accretion belt. “See that? There's where you and I would be right now if we hadn't dumped the modules. Want to go back and look for them?”

Morgan didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes told me that he finally comprehended the fate that we'd barely avoided. “Have a sandwich,” I added, then I left the wardroom and headed for my cabin.

IX

I slept like a stone for the next twelve hours or so, stirring only when I felt the shudder of the maneuvering thrusters being fired to correct our course back to Nordash. When I finally woke up, it was to the sound of Ash's guitar coming through the air vent. I listened for a little while, letting my mind replay the events of the previous day, before deciding that I really should report back to the command center. With Ali down for the count, I'd become the
Pride
's de facto pilot; time to go back topside and take over the helm again.

So I fell out of the sack and put on a fresh change of clothes. Ash was still noodling at his guitar when I left my cabin. I thought about dropping in, but then changed my mind and instead went down the corridor to visit Rain. I hadn't seen or heard from her since we'd gotten back from Kha-Zann; she might want to talk about what we'd been through.

Her door was still shut, and there was no answer when I knocked. At first I thought she wasn't in, but when I tried the door, I found that it was locked from the inside. I knocked again, this time calling her name, but there was no reply. I was beginning to get worried, so I headed back down the corridor, intending to inform Ted that Rain…well, I'm not sure what I would've told the captain, other than express vague misgivings about one of my crewmates…when Ash abruptly stopped playing his guitar.

“She doesn't want to talk to you,” he said from behind the door of his cabin.

I started to say something, but he beat me to it. “Seriously. She doesn't want to see you right now. If I were you, I'd leave her alone.”

He already knew I was there, so I didn't bother to knock, but instead slid open his door. Ash was in his hammock, guitar lying across his chest. There were dark circles under his eyes, and I could tell from the absence of booze on his breath that he was sober.

“Been dry since yesterday,” he said, in response to my unasked question. “That little party we had the other night pretty much pissed away the last of my supply.” Ash idly strummed at his guitar. “That's why I'm staying away from you guys. Too many strong emotions right now…especially from you and her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, c'mon.” He looked at me askance. “Maybe you can hide from each other, or even from yourselves, but you can't hide from me. A lot has changed between the two of you, and…” He shook his head. “Go on, get out of here. Please. It hurts too damn much to be around you.”

Perhaps I should've left him alone, but his comfort was the least of my concerns. “Sorry, Gordon,” I said, closing the door behind me. “Can't do that. Not until you tell me what's going on.”

Ash said nothing for a moment, then he let out his breath as a long sigh. “Y'know, it almost would've been easier if you guys had failed.” Propping his guitar against the bulkhead, he sat up in his hammock, slinging his legs over the side until his bare feet almost touched the floor. “In fact, I kinda thought that was what would happen. The shuttle would crash, or you'd miss making the rendezvous…and that would've been it.”

I stared at him, not quite believing I'd heard what he'd just said. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Oh, no, no…not at all.” He winced, perhaps from the secondhand impact of my emotions. “I'm happy you made it back, really I am. But”—he hesitated—“do you remember what she told you? When you suggested that she spend the night with you, I mean.”

My face felt warm. “Ummm…”

“Right. And so does she…but the truth is, deep down inside, she really didn't think she'd have to make good on that promise.” He forced a smile. “And then you had to screw things up and…”

“Yeah, okay, I get the picture.” Then I shook my head. “No, I don't. I mean, that was something I did when I was drunk. She doesn't have to…”

“You know something, Jules? You talk too much. Just shut up and listen.” Ash waited until he was sure that I wouldn't interrupt him again, then went on. “If you think you're confused…well, so is she, and even more so. If it was just about sex, that would be easy. You guys hop in the sack and bang each other's brains out. Problem solved. But the fact of the matter is that you're in love with her, and she's falling for you, too, and neither of you know what to do about it.”

Bending forward, he clutched at his head. “God, I need a drink. Just get out of here, okay? Leave me alone.”

There was little else for me to say, so I eased out of his cabin, shutting the door behind me. For a few moments, I stood in the corridor, uncertain of what to do next, until I finally decided to head up to the bridge.

Sure, I knew how to handle a spaceship. But I didn't have a clue how to handle a woman.

X

Half a day later, the
Pride
returned to Nordash. I was back in the pilot's seat again by then, and had initiated the braking maneuver that would slow the ship down and put it on course for rendezvous with the
nord
starbridge. Through the bridge windows, Kasimasta was a distant blur a little less than half an AU away; at that distance, it looked no more threatening than a cloud of interstellar dust and gas.

Yet even if the Annihilator wasn't going to collide with Nordash, the planet was doomed. Once Kasimasta passed close enough to HD 70642 for its intense gravity to have an effect upon the star, solar flares would be kicked up that would bake the planet's surface. As the
Pride
made its primary approach to the starbridge, we saw that the vast armada that had greeted us only a couple of days earlier had disappeared. Apparently the
nord
had completed the evacuation of their world; if any of their kind had been left behind, they were helpless against the monster rapidly closing in upon them. In any event, there was no traffic around the alien starbridge, nor did we receive any radio transmissions. Nordash was an abandoned house, its former residents long gone.

Once more, I performed a one-eighty that turned the
Pride
around, then fired the maneuvering thrusters that would put us on a proper heading for the ring. Everyone was in the command center except for Ali; although he'd regained consciousness, Ted had relieved him from duty and confined him to the med bay until we returned to Coyote. So the ship was mine, and I'd be lying if I said that I minded having the stick. Perhaps I'd lost
Loose Lucy
, but being able to fly the
Pride of Cucamonga
, at least for a little while, more than made up for it.

As we closed in upon the starbridge, Jas left hisher seat and used the ceiling rails to pull himherself over to my station. I was relieved to see that the Prime Emissary no longer wore hisher weapon; at Ted's insistence, Jas had left it in hisher quarters. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but feel nervous as Jas reached past me to insert hisher key into the
hjadd
navigation system. Nor was I the only one who was on edge. From the other side of the console, Ted kept an eye on Jas as heshe entered fresh coordinates into the keypad.

“You are taking us back to
Talus qua'spah
, aren't you?” he said at last. “No surprises, right?”

Jas's head rose slightly upon hisher long neck. “There is no deception, Captain Harker. Your ship has been programmed to return to Hjarr.” The Prime Emissary turned to me. “You may now engage the control system, Mr. Truffaut.”

I looked over at Ted. He gave me a nod, so I took a deep breath and switched to autopilot. Lights flashed across my panel, telling me that the
Pride
's AI was slaved to the starbridge. Now I knew exactly how Ali felt when he'd done this; there's nothing worse than having to put your fate in someone else's hands.

The thrusters fired again, and the
Pride
began moving toward the ring. I checked my harness to make sure that it was tight, then settled back in my seat. But just before the ship crossed the event horizon, I looked across the bridge to where Rain was seated. She'd been continuing to avoid me, and although our eyes met for a moment, she hastily looked away. Once again, I wished I could talk things over with her, but for the time being that was out of the question. I was the pilot, and she was counting on me to get her home.

The wormhole opened. A blinding flash of light, and then we plunged into hyperspace.

XI

Jas kept his promise. When we came out the other side of the wormhole, we were back in the Rho Coronae Borealis system.

The second time around, though, there was nothing surprising. Jas got on the horn and spoke with someone in hisher own language, and a few minutes later the local traffic system took control of the ship and guided it the rest of the way to
Talus qua'spah
. I sat with my hands in my lap and watched while the
Pride
entered the same saucer where it had been berthed before. Once it glided to a rest within the docking cradle, the gangway arms telescoped out to mate with our airlock hatches. Ted and I shut down the main engine and put all systems on standby, then the captain turned to Jas.

“Right, then,” he said. “We're back. Now what do you want us to do?”

Morgan was already unbuckling his harness. “For one, I'd like to speak with someone about replacing my cargo. I'm not responsible for…”

“Remain seated, Mr. Goldstein.” Jas barely looked his way. “Our visit will be brief, but during this time, only one individual will be allowed to disembark.” Then hisher helmet swiveled in my direction. “Jules, please come with me.”

As startled as I was, I couldn't help but notice that the Prime Emissary had addressed me by my first name. Now that was a change; no longer was heshe calling me “Mr. Truffaut.” I was about to respond when Ted shook his head. “I'm sorry, but no. As commanding officer, I'm the person who speaks for the ship and her crew. If the High Council wants to meet with anyone…”

“It's okay, skipper. I can take care of myself.” Taking a deep breath, I unfastened my harness. “I think I know why.”

Ted hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. It only made sense that the High Council would want to see me. After all, it was my screwup that had forced us to undertake the task we'd just completed, and it was also yours truly who'd delivered the
hjadd
probe to Kha-Zann. If anyone was going to answer to the Talus, it should be me. Yet I'd just pushed myself out of my chair when Rain spoke up.

“I'm going, too.” She'd already risen from her seat and was pulling herself across the compartment. “I was with Jules, remember?” she added, looking at Jas. “If they've got a bone to pick with him, then they're going to have to pick it with me as well.”

Jas's translator must have had trouble making sense out of Rain's colloquialisms—
pick a bone? whose bones?
—because a few moments went by before the Prime Emissary made a reply. “Yes, you may join us,” heshe said at last, hisher head swinging back and forth in the
hjadd
affirmative. “However, you should be warned that, by doing so, the Council's judgment may be extended to you as well.”

“Rain, don't…”

“Hush.” Rain gave me a stubborn look, then turned to Jas. “I understand. So…let's go.”

With Jas leading the way, we floated down the access shaft to the primary hatch, then cycled through the airlock. Jas told us that we didn't need to put on spacesuits, and artificial gravity was restored as soon as we entered the gangway. I was half-expecting to have to undergo decontamination again, but instead we went straight through the reception area without having to stop, take off our clothes, and get another dart in the ass. Yet when we found ourselves at the tram station, Jas stopped and stepped back from us.

“I am leaving you now,” heshe said. “You may see me again later, but at this point you will travel in a different direction.” Heshe motioned to the waiting tube car. “This will transport you to where you are supposed to go. May fortune be with you.”

I didn't quite know how to take this; it sounded rather ominous. As heshe began to turn away, though, Rain spoke up. “Just one question…would you have really left us on Kha-Zann, if it had been your choice?'

The Prime Emissary halted, and hisher head swiveled around. “I was considering the safety of the ship. You were expendable.”

There wasn't much to say to that, really, except perhaps that I strongly disagreed with hisher assessment of the value of our lives. I doubted that would've made much difference, though, so I simply nodded, and Rain reluctantly did the same, and then we climbed into the car. Jas watched as the canopy slid shut; one last glimpse of himher, standing at the platform, and then the car shot down the tube and out into space.

Hard to believe that we were back there, and so soon. Only a few days ago, I'd thought I'd seen the last of
Talus qua'spah
. Yet as the car hurtled through the immense habitat, I found myself wondering whether I should have stayed aboard ship. Sure, we'd kept our side of the bargain—the
Pride
had deployed the probe and survived to tell the tale—yet I couldn't shake the feeling that the Talus wasn't done with us quite yet. Only this time, I wouldn't have Ted or Emily or Ash or even Morgan to pull my bacon from the fire. Only Rain…and I couldn't figure out for the life of me why she'd insisted on sharing the risk.

I didn't get a chance to ask, though, before the car took an abrupt right turn and headed toward a cylinder that we hadn't visited during our previous trip. I'd just noticed that it didn't have any windows when the car began to decelerate. It entered a portal and coasted to a halt at another tram station, and then the canopy opened.

Rain and I climbed out onto the platform, looked around. As before, a sphincter door was recessed in the nearby wall. But this time, there was no friendly voice to tell us what to do; the door irised open, revealing another copper-paneled corridor. The message was clear:
this way, and don't forget to wipe your feet.

“Y'know,” I murmured, “this is a bad time to know me.”

“Oh, hell, Jules…I've regretted knowing you from the moment we met.” I glanced at her, and she softened the blow with a wink and a smile. “Just kidding. C'mon, let's get this over with.”

The corridor took us to another door. Upon our approach, it swirled open, but beyond it lay only darkness. I stopped, reluctant to venture in. Rain was just as hesitant; her hand trembled as she took mine. Then a narrow beam of light came from a high ceiling, forming a circular spot upon a bare floor. Again, a message that was both unspoken and clear:
come in and stand here.

Still holding hands, we entered the room. The door slid shut behind, and when I looked back, I found that I couldn't see where it was. The spotlighted circle was just large enough for the two of us. The room was cold; when we exhaled, the light caught the fog of our breaths. It was as if we'd entered limbo, some netherworld between one plane of reality and the next.

“Okay.” Rain let go of my hand to rub her shoulders for warmth. “I guess this is the part where the trapdoor opens and…”

At that instant, the whole place lit up, and we were…

XII

Back on Kha-Zann.

Everything in the place was just as I had last seen it—same dark purple sky above a barren plain; same sun hanging low upon distant hills—yet somehow different. It took me a second to put my finger on it: utter silence, not even the wind. Yet it was unquestionably Kha-Zann: a ghost of a world that had recently been reduced to nothing more than debris. But how…?

“Jules?” Rain said.

I thought she was talking to me. But when I looked around, I saw that we were no longer alone. A couple of feet away, a human figure wearing EVA gear was staring straight at us. His helmet faceplate was polarized, so I didn't recognize him at first. Then he took a step back. And that's when I realized who it was.

“Good grief,” I murmured. “That's me.”

It was as if I was watching old footage of myself, scanned two days ago and reproduced as a hologram. Behind me was the crate I'd dragged from the shuttle, its lid on the ground nearby, and now I could see that it was empty. But if that were so, then where was…?

Rain laughed out loud. “Oh, now I get it,” she said. “This is what the probe saw, right after you turned it on.” She looked to the right, then pointed to the ground beside us. “See? There it is.”

She was correct. Where our shadows should have been instead lay the elliptical shadow of the
hjadd
probe. I remembered the instruments that emerged from the probe's core right after it opened; as I'd figured, one of them must have been a camera, which in turn captured ground-level images of Kha-Zann and transmitted them via hyperlink back to
Talus qua'spah
.

“And there's me.” Rain pointed to the left; about a hundred yards away stood
Loose Lucy
. A tiny figure stood within the open hatch of its cargo bay, gazing in our direction. “If I'd known what was happening,” she added, suppressing a laugh, “I would've waved.”

I was still getting over the strangeness of seeing myself. As I watched, my doppelgänger turned its back to us, and I knew exactly what he…or rather, I…was looking at. To the east, Kasimasta was coming into view over the horizon, larger than when we had seen it from space.

“Oh, look…there you go.” As Rain spoke, I saw myself begin to run away, heading for the shuttle. After the first few steps, I started to make bunny hops, trying to make up for lost time. “Okay, now,” she said, “here it comes…one, two, three…”