Heart of the Nebula (46 page)

He dreamed that he was on board one of the
rebel colony ships, though he didn’t know which one. The long,
narrow halls were unusually empty, the overhead lights dim. Eerie
shadows filled the doorways and corners where the hallway opened up
to a large concourse.

He glanced nervously in every direction,
knowing that he was running out of time, but the concourse was
empty and devoid of life—as if the rebel colonists had abandoned
ship long ago. As he ran, he sensed the presence of ghosts in the
ship, watching and following close behind him. He shivered and ran
faster.

On the far side of the room, a lone figure
slipped into an open doorway. It looked like Sara.

“
Hey!” he called out,
running after her.

The doorway led to one of the long, curved
hallways that ran around each level. The figure slipped just out of
sight ahead of him.

“
Sara! Come
back!”

As he ran after her, the lights around him
began to dim, and the air became noticeably colder. He felt as if
someone or something were chasing him, but the harder he tried to
run, the slower he went. Adrenaline flooded through him, but he
still couldn’t break the invisible bonds that held him.

“
Sara!”

The figure dashed into a side doorway as
James rounded the corner. The doors began to close, but he slipped
through just in time.

He found himself in a vast cryochamber, the
vaulted ceiling high overhead like a giant cathedral. The catacomb
walls stretched upward like a bivouac of death, and he knew that
Sara was somewhere in there. If he could reach her—if only he could
get to her in time—

“
What are you
doing?”

He jumped and turned at the sudden voice,
and saw Lars standing just inside the door. His face was old and
wrinkled, his hair white with age.

“
Lars,” said James, running
to his old friend. “Can you help me? Sara—”

“
Why did you leave me on
this godforsaken derelict?” he asked, his wrinkles sagging. “You
play with our lives as if we’re all pawns on a chess
board.”

“
Lars?”

“
We aren’t sheep,” Lars
snarled, his eyes bloodshot and wild. “None of us are sheep. We’re
free agents—free to do as we like. We aren’t afraid of dogs like
you.”

James swallowed nervously. “Lars, don’t you
remember me? It’s James. I—”

“
I told you once I’d spend
my life building the strongest democracy in the history of man, but
look at what you’ve given me! These people only love war and
bloodshed! They’ll eat each other before they learn to live
together. What can I do with such a people? How can I build a free
society out of wolves?”

Dark, partially-congealed blood began to
ooze out of the cryotanks, spilling out across the honeycombed
walls and dripping on the floor. James spun around in alarm and
glanced back to Lars, but his old friend only glared at him.

“
Stop it!” James screamed,
trying in vain to run away. His feet refused to move, even as the
blood began to fill the room. It was thick and black, and cold as
ice, with lumps floating in it like pieces of decayed flesh and
corruption. The stench of death filled his nose, and he opened his
mouth to scream, but bile spewed out instead, filling him with the
taste of vomit. He coughed and gagged, and the blood rose up his
legs to his chest, seeping through his clothes and soaking his
skin. It slowly rose to his neck, then his chin, then his mouth and
eyes, turning to corruption everything it touched.

James woke up in a cold
sweat, his clothes soaked. He coughed and tried to sit up, but hit
his head against the top of the bunk.
Damn!
he thought to himself, too
weary to swear aloud.

When he regained his strength, he slipped
his legs over the side of the bunk and crawled out. The room was
exactly as it was when he’d entered, but the clock showed that
nearly eight hours had passed. He blinked and looked again, and a
cold, sinking feeling grew inside his gut.

Eight hours!

He ran into the bridge, heart pounding in
his chest. A couple unfamiliar officers occupied some chairs, but
Carlson was gone.

“
Where’s Carlson?” he
asked, a sinking feeling growing in his stomach.

“
He took his sleeping shift
a few hours ago, but he’ll be up shortly,” said one of the
officers—a young woman with short black hair. “Don’t worry, we have
everything under control.”

“
Under control? What the
hell do you—”

“
Commander!” came a voice
behind him. He looked down and saw Carlson crawling up the floor
ladder with a broad smile on his face, dressed in a fresh set of
clothes. James stepped back as the man rose to his feet and gave
him a spontaneous embrace.

“
What the—Captain, what’s
going on?”

Carlson laughed. “You seemed so exhausted
when you went down, we didn’t bother waking you to tell you the
news.”

“
What news?”

“
That the
Good Hope Flier
has
released all the hostages. They’re en route to the
Lady of Karduna
right
now. All of them are safe and accounted for.”

James blinked. “The rebels did what?”

“
They released the
hostages,” Carlson repeated. “We’ve contacted their shuttlecraft
and confirmed that all of them are doing well. The crisis is over,
and war has been averted.”

It took James several moments to process the
news. When he did, though, he sighed and all but collapsed into the
nearest chair.

“
Thank the stars,” he
muttered.
And thank you,
Deirdre.

“
That’s not all, I’m
afraid,” said Carlson. His expression suddenly became very
serious.

“
What?” James asked,
frowning.

“
The diplomats found out
why the
Good Hope Flier
broke contact with us, as well as the other
rebels. It’s rather disturbing, and I’m not sure if—”

“
Tell me,” James said.
“That’s an order.”

Carlson took a deep breath.
“Very well, Commander. According to the diplomats’ report, when the
population of the
Good Hope Flier
grew so large that it began to put a strain on
their infrastructure, they failed to manage their resources as
effectively as we did. In order to make more living space, they
vented the cryotanks and killed everyone inside.”

The news struck James like a meteor. He was
too stunned to know what to say.

“
I sincerely hope that you
didn’t have any friends who were on those ships, Commander. There’s
nothing we could have done for them.”

A wave of nausea swept over him, threatening
to knock him out of his chair. His stomach sank through the floor,
and he felt as if he were going to throw up.

“
They—they
what?”

“
I’m sorry, Commander. The
rebels have killed all the colonists from your generation. That’s
why they saw you as a threat, and that is why they decided to
secede.”

“
No!” James cried, grabbing
his hair. His eyes burned like fire, and he couldn’t choke down the
tears.

“
Commander, are you all
right? Commander!”

How can I build a free
society out of wolves?
Lars’s voice echoed
in his ear.
Look at what you’ve given
me!

Chapter 24

Deirdre knew something was wrong the moment
she stepped through the door.

James was on the bed, lying on his side with
his back facing her. Even so, she could tell that he was awake. She
stepped inside and stood beside him.

“
James? Are you all
right?”

He turned slowly over, swinging his feet off
the side of the bunk as he sat up.

“
Do you really want to
know?” he muttered.

“
Of course I
do.”

He took a deep breath, but said nothing.

“
I heard all about the
hostages,” she said, pulling out a seat. “Everyone’s been talking
about it. I knew that if anyone could solve this crisis, you
could.”

Still no answer. He stared at the floor, his
face a mask.

“
Well, aren’t you going to
say something?”

He looked up and stared at her with tired
eyes. “Do you know why the rebel ships have kept out of
contact?”

“
Uh, no. Why?”

“
Because they vented all
their cryotanks eighty years ago, right before they cut
contact.”

Her jaw dropped. “Vented them? You mean,
everyone in cryo—”

“
They’re all dead,” he
said, clenching his fists by his side.

She gasped. A terrible sinking feeling
seized her stomach.

“
I’m so sorry.”

“
So am I.”

A long silence fell between them. On
impulse, Dierdre rose to her feet and walked across to sit down
next to him. He flinched a little as she put her hand on his
shoulder, but made no other movement.

“
Don’t blame yourself,” she
said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“
Then whose fault was it?”
he asked, shrugging her off. “How could they do something like
that? Everyone on those ships that I knew…”

She stared at him for a moment, not knowing
what to say. He shook his head in frustration and rose to his feet,
pacing back and forth across the floor.

“
The whole reason for
coming to Chira was so that we could escape this sort of thing,” he
said. “The war and killing and everything else—we wanted to get
away from it. And now, just when we’re about to arrive at our new
home, we find out that the wolves have followed us to it. Hell,
they’ve not only followed us—they
are
us.
We
are the wolves.”

Deirdre listened quietly, nodding as he
became more impassioned. It was clear that he had a lot to get off
of his chest. She didn’t blame him.

“
But why?” he repeated,
desperation in his voice. “All of those people, hoping for a better
life… now gone.”

Deirdre rose to her feet and put a hand on
his arm. “If it makes you feel better, James, you’re probably the
single greatest reason we didn’t do the same thing here.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “What?”

“
Before we switched to the
twelve-hour mainday/alterday shifts, there was some talk about
venting the cryotanks, mostly from the younger colonists. Resources
were tight, and it was an open question whether we’d run out of
living space before we got to Chira.”

“
So the same debate they
had on the rebel ships,” he said, folding his arms. “Why didn’t you
do what they did?”

“
Because of what you said
when you rescued those girls on the pirate’s station. You said that
no one gets left behind. That became our guiding mantra—no one gets
left behind,
ever.
Those who suggested that we vent the cryotanks were soundly
rejected, and you became a symbol of hope that it would all work
out if we just stuck together.”

“
So that’s my legacy,” he
muttered.

He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed,
clearly deep in thought. Deirdre sat down next to him and began to
rub his back.

“
I’m so, so sorry about
what happened,” she said softly. “We all are.”

James sighed. “You woke me up because you
wanted me to save you, but now it turns out that I’m the thing
that’s driving you apart.”

“
That’s not true, James.
You’ve done more to unify us than anyone else in our
history.”

“
As a person, perhaps, but
as a symbol? No.”

“
Don’t say that about
yourself, James. Don’t put yourself down.”

He smiled and took her hands in his own.
They felt calloused and rough, completely unlike her hands, which
were soft and delicate. Still, his touch was not unpleasant. Their
eyes met, and her breath caught in her throat.

“
Do you see me as a symbol
or a person, Deirdre?”

“
As a person, of
course.”

“
Really?”

“
Yes,” she said, squeezing
his hands. “You were a person to me from the moment I saw you climb
out of that cryotank.”

“
Thanks,” he said softly.
“I’m glad that someone on this ship sees me that way.”

For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed that
he was about to lean forward and kiss her. But then, a cloud came
over his face and he let go.

“
Lars was right,” he said,
turning to stare at the wall. “The people aren’t sheep, and there’s
not much difference between the sheepdogs and the wolves. I’m sure
the rebels felt they were doing the right thing when they vented
those cryotanks. To them, that makes me a wolf.”

What is he saying?
Deirdre thought. She wanted to stop him from
denigrating himself—it hurt her every time to hear it. He was
trapped in a self-destructive cycle, and she had to break him out
of it.

“
Let’s talk about it
later,” she said. “We’ve had enough for one dayshift.”

“
Yes,” he said, nodding.
“We certainly have.”

* * * * *

The next two weeks passed
rather uneventfully. The rebel colony ships once again fell out of
radio contact, but with the hostages safely returned and the ships
too far ahead of them to intercept, there was nothing to do but let
them continue on their way. A vigorous discussion of the rebel
atrocities all but consumed the forums of the
Chiran Spirit,
but James had no
stomach for debate—not when the victims had been his
friends.