This Alien Shore (41 page)

“We're going into the ainniq,” he told her. His tone was crisp, curt, not unlike the sharply defined voice of a public address computer. “We've got class C vessel status, which means we can stay on our own ship—they'll tow it—but the Guild requires that all human passengers be either sedated or chilled during passage.”

“Would they know if someone wasn't?” she asked.

He seemed startled by the question. “It's rumored they have a program that will scan for beta waves on board. Maybe not. But would you want to take that chance? Considering that anyone who offends the Guild would be banned from the ainniq forever? That's a pretty harsh punishment.” He shook his head; clearly he found the mere thought of such defiance incredible. “It's not like you can see anything anyway. We'll be completely enclosed during flight.”

She tried to make her voice sound as naive as possible. “And what did you program for me, exactly?”

“Theta-sleep. It's the best choice by far, everyone but the Captain will do it. Sedation's a pain to program, and it doesn't clear out of your system all that fast.” His sharp eyes fixed on her with all the intensity of a predator. “Haven't you ever been through an ainniq before?”

“Once. From Earth to Reijik. I slept through it.”

“Best way to go. Trust me. Most of the ships, everyone just goes under, easier that way. You need a special license to do otherwise.”

“And Allo's got that license?”

He hesitated for only a fraction of an instant, then nodded. She was willing to bet the affirmation was at least half a lie. Had Allo stolen a license? Forged one? Two and two suddenly added up to four in her head, and she knew what it was that the ship's crew did for a living. She'd have guessed it sooner if they hadn't so carefully kept her away from their business, back when they were unloading their cargo. Now, lots of little small hints suddenly snowballed into a very clear, very comprehensible picture.

“Of course,” she murmured. Of course smugglers would have such a license. Of course they wouldn't trust themselves to be put to sleep during Guild transport. She was willing to bet Allo wouldn't really be sedated either, though she didn't know how he'd slip that one by the Guild authorities. They seemed to be thorough in checking everything. “He has everything covered, doesn't he?”

She regretted the edge to her voice the minute she said the words, but he didn't seem to notice it. “He tries to,” he agreed. “Anyway, it's five hours to immersion by our current clock, so figure the last warning will come through about thirty minutes before that. You'll need to have all your gear stowed for no-G by then, just for safety's sake. Then lie down, strap in, tell your wellseeker to inload ... and before you know it we'll be on Paradise.”

He turned to leave, but she still had questions. “Why do they do it?” she asked him. “Why do they make us sleep? Are they so afraid we might ... what, exactly?”

He turned back and stared at her; clearly amazed at the level of her ignorance. She could almost hear the words spoken aloud:
Didn't they teach you anything on Earth?
“There are predators in the ainniq,” he said at last. “You know that much, right? Things that will rip your soul right out of your body and eat it for lunch.” She nodded. “Well, rumor has it they're drawn to certain types of brain activity, in the same way that Terran sharks are drawn to blood. The Guild won't confirm that, of course. They're not about to tell us anything about what
really
happens out there.” For a moment hatred flashed in his eyes, undisguised by societal pleasantries. Like most Variants, he had no love for the Guild. “I've been told that the reason they put most of us in theta-sleep for passage is so that the dragons won't hear us coming. Same thing with a sedation program. It doesn't stop the brainwaves, but it skews them a bit. A kind of disguise.”

“The outpilot will be awake,” she offered. “He has to be, to steer the ship. Right?”

“Yes,” he told her. “And maybe that's why not all ships make it through.” The hostility in his eyes subsided, but it clearly took effort. “This is all just rumor, you understand. The Guild isn't about to let us share their precious secrets. All we know is that they can get a ship through the ainniq uninjured and no one else can. What else really matters? They say sleep, so we sleep.” He shut his eyes for a second, apparently to consult his timekeeper. “Immersion at 0728 Standard Time,” he told her. “Just be sure you're running the program by then, okay?”

He looked at her then—really looked at her, not past or through her like he usually did—and it seemed to hit him just how unnerving his little speech had been. His eyes unfocused for a minute as he indulged in some internal dialog, then he said, “Look, the program will rouse you within an hour after passage. There's nothing to worry about. Really.”

The words were cold comfort. Even as the door slid shut behind him, a half dozen voices inside her head were whispering warnings of where the danger in this plan might lie, describing the various things that Allo and the Guild might do to her while she was chilled and helpless. Her hand trembling slightly, she picked up the headset. Was there something else in there now, besides the program he had told her about? How would she ever know? Raven knew more programming than any of them, and even she was no expert. How could she analyze what Tam had done, much less alter it? Her fingers closed about the thin plastic band, and a cold fear began to take root in her heart. She was in over her head here. All the voices crowding inside her head couldn't give her access to impossible skills. She knew from things she'd overheard that Tam was the kind of programmer accustomed to breaking the rules. Could a normal person even figure out what he'd done to her equipment, much less undo it? The fear became a chill despair that clutched her heart like a fist, and her hand spasmed tightly about the headset as if crushing it would solve all her problems. Within her soul she could feel one of the Others rising up, consciousness reaching toward the surface like a desperate swimmer struggling for air . . . Zusu?
No,
she begged,
no, no, not now, I need to think this through, just let me do it, please.

And then there was something else. A presence like fire that exploded through the many layers of her consciousness, butting aside the Others that got in its way. Zusu took one look at it and fled in terror; Jamisia wished she could do the same. In all her time with the Others, she had never seen one in such a rage. So alien was the newcomer's fury, so mindnumbingly intense, that not until he took direct control of her senses did she even realize who it was.

“Fuck all this shit!” Derik snarled. The rage was like a whirlwind inside him, a storm of frustration and anger that was directed at all of them. “Is this what you call action? This bullshit? I'll show you action!”

In horror Jamisia watched as her own hand took the headset and threw it down onto the floor, hard. The plastic frame hit the floor with a sickening sound and then bounced some feet up, its resilient surface and the lo-G of the ship combining with the force of Derik's pitch to give it almost ludicrous flight. Then it settled back down to the floor, and he slammed his foot down on it, hard, crushing the delicate components—

No!!!
She surfaced and took control of the body again, to stop him. Or tried to. But his mental grip on it was more than secure, and he had no intention of relinquishing control. “Stay out of this!” he snarled. “I'm doing what has to be done!” He ground his foot, intending to crush the headset, but she'd pulled him off balance enough that he missed it by inches. With a muttered curse he threw her off and struck out at the instrument again. But this time Jamisia wasn't alone in her efforts to stop him. Verina was helping her, and Raven, and after a moment even Katlyn and Zusu joined in. They'd never tried to control the body together before, least of all against the might of one of their own kind. And damn, he was strong! With all that fury unleashed, he was stronger than the rest of them put together. But that was his nature, after all. He was the one who had raged in fury when the doctors fed hurtful memories into Jamisia's brain; his was the role of avenger, protector. And he had never been released to vent his indignation, not at a time when it would do any good ... until now.

Derik!
It was Verina, the voice of reason.
Don't be an idiot! If you break the headset they'll know we've caught on, don't you see?

He hesitated. In the sudden silence, Zusu whimpered,
I don't want to go into the ainniq without the headset
—

Shut up!
half a dozen voices told her.

He could scarcely see through all the wellseeker messages in his field of vision. He flashed the goddamn thing to shut down and didn't answer anyone till the last red warning was gone. “Yeah?”

He drew in a deep breath. The force of his rage still boiled inside him; Jamisia kept a careful distance between him and her, afraid that she'd get sucked into it. Zusu cowered, terrified.

Derik
...

Yeah.
God, he hated to admit when one of the others was right. Damn girls! With a growl he put his foot down on the ground, a good three inches from where the headset now lay. He could sense them all inside him, tense, ready to fight with him again if he tried to do something stupid. Damn them all!

Okay.
It was Verina, as always the voice of reason.
Now listen to me. We won't wear the headset if you're that set against it. Okay? But if you break it to pieces, they may know
—
we don't know what they have linked to it
—
and certainly they'll see it, if they stop in later. All right? So just let

it be.
When a minute went by and he didn't answer she prodded gently, Derik?

Yeah,
he growled.
I got it.

Zusu began to cry. So did one of the children, and then another. The combination of their tears and Derik's rage and her own fear was sickening, and Jamisia knew that if the body had been in her control at that moment she'd be sure to vomit.

Look,
Derik said sternly. It was clear he was struggling not to speak aloud; silence didn't come naturally to him.
I won't do anything more to the headset, okay? But we're not putting it on for transit, or for anything else. Fuck those bastards! God knows what they did to it. So screw this concept of taking a nap, we're doing the dive with eyes open and that's all there is to it! Got that, girls?

There was silence. Dissension was considered, then left unvoiced. There were doubts, of course, in all of them. He ignored them.

At last one of the children murmured,
What about the dragons, Derik?

Dragons be damned,
he retorted.
If they get us, at least we go down clean.

They eat souls
—one of the others began.

With a cry of frustration he threw the headset against the nearest wall. It rattled as it bounced off onto the bed, as if something inside it had broken loose.
Fuck the dragons, fuck this ship, fuck everyone and everything that's on it! You said you wanted to do something, right? No more sitting back and waiting for other people to take control of our lives. Right? RIGHT?

A second passed. A few voices, hesitant, whispered confirmation.

This time several seconds passed before there was confirmation. When it came, it was hesitant, tentative. It was clear the others weren't all that happy about what he had done ... and equally clear that they didn't want to take over themselves. Even Jamisia found a strange comfort in his fury, as if he were voicing emotions she herself had been keeping bottled up for too long. Yes, it was all right if he took over for a while. It was a relief, in a way. He scared the hell out of her and she didn't trust his judgment, but Verina would surely ride herd on him, and in the meantime....

In the meantime she could rest. Relax. Shut down. Wasn't that what the others did sometimes, when there was something they didn't want to be involved in? It would be nice not to have to worry for a while, or deal with anyone else's worries. How did they do it? Verina had explained once. Something about letting go, so that the sensory feed ceased and there was only mental input ... a kind of sleep, she'd said. Sometimes you needed that, when a dozen voices were in your head all the time.

Here,
a gentle voice whispered.
I'll show you.

Take her by the hand. Follow her into darkness.

Peace.