The Last Story (12 page)

Eworl said.

"Surely you can give us a few minutes to prepare ourselves to comply with your demands?"

In response, a bright blue beam darted from the top of the Orion ship. The Crystal shook as if it had rammed one of the comets. The lights on the bridge momentarily failed. Deep in the bowels of the ship, Sarteen heard loud screeching sounds, painful wails. The emergency lights came on sober red.

"Shields?" she called out.

"They've failed!" Pareen shouted back.

"From just one shot? What are they using?"

"Their source of energy is unknown. But one thing is certain: we cannot take another hit.

Do you wish us to return fire?"

"No. How long to the cloud?"

"Sixty seconds. But we'll never make it. Release the eggs now."

"No. Are they still running with shields down?"

"Yes. They have no respect for our weapons."

"We will not release the eggs until we enter the cloud.

Hail the Orion ship again." The channel was reopened.

"Captain Eworl, we are anxious to comply with your request. How can we best surrender?"

"Veer away from the gaseous cloud that lies directly In your course," Eworl said.

"Unfortunately, your attack has disrupted our naviga tional instruments. But if you can give us one minute, we should have them repaired."

The alien paused before answering. "In one minute you will be in the cloud. That is not acceptable to us."

"Their energy beams are being recharged," Pareen warned.

"Our instruments are coming back on line now,"

Sarteen said hastily. "We are implementing a turn." She signaled to Pareen to close the hailing frequency and spoke to him, "Fire ail our retro rockets simultaneously."

"They'll cancel each other out," Pareen said. "We will still enter the cloud."

"Yes. But it will look like we're trying."

Pareen nodded. "Firing retros. Twenty-eight seconds to cloud-contact."

"Are they still preparing to fire?" Sarteen asked, hearing the roar of the retros firing.

"Yes."

"With our shields down, can we withstand the run through the cloud?"

"It's questionable," Pareen said.

"Reopen hailing frequencies." Her order was obeyed.

"Captain Eworl, in an effort to comply with your instructions, we are going to use an auxiliary power source.

Please stand by. Captain Sarteen out."

"What auxiliary power source is that?" Pareen asked.

Sarteen shrugged. "I will say anything at this point."

She gripped the arms of her chair. "Give me a countdown on entry into the cloud."

' 'Ten—nine—eight—seven—''

"Prepare to release the eggs," Sarteen said.

"Six—five— They are locking their energy beams on usl We don't have time to—"

"Wait the four seconds!" Sarteen screamed back.

The seconds passed. They would have done so even if they had been destroyed. Yet the alien beams did not strike. Sarteen was still alive and breathing when the first wisps of the cloud rocked the Crystal. Her eyes locked with Pareen's and she nodded.

"Releasing the nanoeggs," he said, pushing a button.

For a moment nothing changed. The eggs were too small to be seen over a distance of any kind. That was the beauty of them. They were virtually undetectable, especially inside the cloud. Their main viewing screen was now turned solely toward the Orion ship.

Without warning the Orion ship turned a brilliant white.

Everyone on the bridge yelled in delight.

"Did they explode?" Sarteen shouted out, not waiting for the glare of the bombs to subside. Pareen stood hunched over his instrument panels.

"Their ship hit several of the eggs" he said. "It did not explode, but the Orion vessel appears damaged. They have ceased accelerating."

The hull of the Crystal protested as they plunged deeper into the cloud. The lights flickered once more and the bridge rocked. "How are we doing?" Sarteen asked.

"Not as bad as it sounds," Pareen answered. "We'll be past it in ten seconds."

His prediction proved accurate. The pressure on the hull stopped as the glare from the bombs subsided.

Finally they were able to see the Orion ship. It had been seriously damaged; an entire fin had blown off and the

region from which the aliens fired their mysterious energy beams was a mass of charred wreckage. As Pareen had announced, their engines had cut off. As the minutes passed it became obvious they were falling back. Sarteen breathed a sigh of relief. But they were not safe yet.

"How long until we have enough velocity for a hyperjump?" she asked.

"At our current rate of acceleration," Pareen said,

"two hours, one minute."

"Does the alien vessel have shields up?"

"No."

"What if we divert all power to our disrupters?"

Sarteen asked.

"With our damage, we would be forced to cease accelerating for over an hour. I don't recommend it"

Sarteen pondered, swinging back and forth between her choices. She was tempted to finish off the Orion ship while they had the chance. Yet she was also concerned about putting as much distance between them as possible.

It was not necessary to destroy the enemy.

The Crystal only needed to escape. Logic said as much.

Pius she could divert all their power to their weapons and still not destroy the Orion vessel. Standing, she paced back and forth in front of her seat, Pareen watching her.

"If we turn off our engines," he said, "we'll drift with them, at least until we build up enough power to restart our engines."

"Can we fire one shot of our disrupters and keep the engines going?"

"No."

"Do we have definite life signs coming from their ship?"

Pareen checked his instruments. "Yes. Many of them are still alive."

Sarteen stared at the screen. "I do not trust their captain."

"For all we know, he's dead," Pareen said.

She shook her head. "He's alive. We have hurt him, but he's eager to fight again."

"You don't know that."

"I do." She closed her eyes. "I feel him watching us."

"We need only two hours at our current rate of acceleration,"

Pareen counseled. "Then we will be free of the solar system."

Sarteen took a deep breath. What she did now would determine whether a portion of humanity survived as a free people or not. Her head said to escape; her heart wanted to fight. She didn't know which was wiser.

Feeling the eyes of the crew on her, she slowly opened her own.

"Continue to accelerate," she said softly. "Let us pray that I am wrong, and that he is dead."

Once again I stopped writing because I wasn't sure what would happen next. Plus I was tired. Six in the morning would come too soon. Glancing at the clock, I saw that I had only another hour to sleep before the alarm went off. Why was I writing like this in the middle of the night? It was insane, with everything else I had to do. Yet I didn't begrudge the lost sleep. The story intrigued me.

The more time I spent with Sarteen, the more I knew her and respected the tremendous burden that had been placed on her. Her last decision, however, had been a mistake. After licking his wounds, the alien captain would come after her again. And he wasn't a nice guy.

After backing up what I had written on the hard disk onto a floppy disk, I turned off the computer and stumbled in the direction of my bedroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jacob sitting up on the couch.

"Jacob," I said softly. "It's just me. Do you need to use the bathroom? I can help you to it."

"No, thank you," he said in a sleepy voice. "I don't need to go. I just heard some noise and got nervous."

I went over and sat beside him on the couch. He wore a white T-shirt and dark sweat pants. A shaft of moonlight peeped through the curtains; his glass eyes glistened in the pale glow like large hailstones.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I said. "I was writing."

"Is it daytime?" he asked.

His question saddened me. It could be pitch black and he couldn't tell. Of course, blackness was all he knew. I reached out and took his hand.

"No," I said. "It's an hour or two before dawn.

You should go back to sleep."

"Do you like to write so late?" he asked.

"Not this late. This is unusual. But this story—it won't let me sleep."

"What's it about?"

I chuckled. "I don't know. It takes place in the future. Humanity is out exploring the stars when it's suddenly attacked by an alien race. I don't know how it's going to turn out."

"I'd like to read it when you're done."

"Peter can read it to you. Or maybe it will be translated into Braille. Do you read many books?"

"I listen to books on tape. I've listened to some of yours."

"Did you like them?"

Jacob flashed a smile. "Yeah. They were creepy.

They gave me nightmares." He paused. "Peter's going to take me to meet this yogi tomorrow. He told me all about him. I can hardly wait. Peter says that he has the power to heal people."

I squeezed Jacob's hand. "Maybe he does have the power, I don't know. But I think the healing this man gives is on the inside. If you go to him expecting to be able to see, you will be disappointed. It's important that you understand that."

Jacob shook his head. "I wasn't thinking he could fix me. I've always been blind. I don't know what's it's like to see. I don't care that much one way or the other. As long as I can play baseball. But I hope he can heal Peter. Peter used to be able to walk—he's used to walking." He added, "I know Peter wants to go walking with you."

I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. Often I

went walking along the beach in the evening. But because of his wheelchair and the sand and water, Peter was unable to accompany me. Why couldn't I just stay on the concrete sidewalk that ran along the beach?

"He told you that?" I whispered. Peter had never said anything to me. Hearing the pain in my voice, Jacob was instantly concerned.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Everything you say is right. Tell me, Jacob, and tell me the truth. How do you pitch when you can't see whom you're pitching to? I know the catcher talks the whole time to give you direction, but I still don't see how you do it."

Jacob considered. "I don't know. When I wind up to throw the ball, I just know where to throw it."

He added hastily, "I've never hit anybody. I wouldn't play if I hit people."

"But how do you know?"

Jacob paused. "I never thought about it. Maybe the yogi could tell me if I asked him.

Would that be a good question to ask him?"

I had to laugh. "I think it would be the perfect question to ask. He may or may not be able to work miracles, as I said, but you are a miracle, Jacob. I'm going to come see you play the first chance I get."

Jacob beamed. "I'd like that."

"I like you," I said. "You stay here as long as you want. I mean that."

"Thank you, Shari."

"You don't have to thank me." Standing, I kissed him on the forehead. "Now go to sleep."

I went to bed and crawled under the covers.

I felt as if I'd barely closed my eyes when the alarm went off.

God, my head was throbbing with pain.

/ need a miracle.

CHAPTER

XI

J~J UCILLE DID NOT LIKE WATER. No, actually, Lucille was terrified of water. The terror could be used in later scenes because we were, after all, making a scary movie. If only Lucille could have learned to save it, bottle it somehow. But we couldn't have her character Mary screaming as soon as the incoming water went above her knees. The water was supposed to go up to their necks before they abandoned their attempt to plug the holes. Andy shouted "Cut!" so many times that I thought he would walk the first day of shooting. Finally he threw in the towel—literally, at Lucille. All the actors had to dry themselves off between cuts.

Fortunately they were wearing bathing suits. We just had to blow-dry their legs, bikinis and trunks.

Jo took Lucille aside to comfort her while I retreated to a corner to have a private nervous breakdown with Henry.

"Has anything like this ever happened to you before?" I complained.

"I was once filming a movie about skydiving," he began.

"Don't tell me," I interrupted. "Your star was afraid of heights?"

"No. He was suicidal. He jumped out of the plane without a parachute."

I made a face. "Did he die?"

"He didn't bounce." He paused. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm supposed to ask you that question."

Henry considered. "We could cancel the day's shoot. Call some of the others on our backup lists."

I waved my hand. "Most of them couldn't act."

"Yeah, but they could probably all swim. Mary's not a crucial role. We don't need an Academy Award-winning performance."

"All the roles are crucial. Have one bad actor in the lot and they'll all look bad. Besides, I hate to fall a whole day behind at the beginning." I stopped and glanced over at Lucille, who was sobbing into a towel. She knew we were talking about her. She would have had to be brain dead not to know.

"Maybe we could give her a stiff drink."

"We could if this was a western," Henry said.

"We have to face reality. Lucille can't be in this movie. If she's nervous here, she'll be hysterical when we shoot with the sharks and out on the ocean."

Roger came over. "I know what the problem is and I know what the solution is," he said boldly.

Henry and I exchanged looks. "We're all ears,"

Henry said.

"Shari can play Mary," he said. He raised his hand as I started to protest. "I watched you read the other day. You're a wonderful actress, completely natural, very expressive. Also, you know every scene, every line of dialogue. If you bring in someone new, we'll all have to rehearse with her for a couple of days. You'll lose time and money."

Henry was staring at me. "He has a point."

"He's forgetting one small thing," I said. "I have never acted in front of a camera in my life. Besides, I can't be in my own movie. That's the height of egotism."