Wrath of the Void Strider (19 page)

His expression was pained as he covered his mouth with his hands.  “How much do you remember?”

Images crashed through her mind in a jumble.

That morning, she had argued with her son about his study habits. 
No
… about doing his laundry.  She shook her head, pressing her eyes closed as she gazed into her mind’s eye.  She had held her baby daughter close and tearfully kissed her husband goodbye.

He waved, and she waved back as the air taxi eased out into traffic.  She blew him a kiss when she couldn’t see him anymore and sighed.  Absently, she looked out the window as she raced by glinting skyscrapers, headed for the starport.

After checking in with the Expansion Ministry, she joined her captain on the bridge as 840 colonists finished boarding.  They kept their conversation cheerful as the pilot ran through preflight.  In time, everything was ready to go, and the bridge crew descended the starship’s gangway toward the cryo decks.  It would be three months of travel at nearly the speed of light before they reached their destination.

She shed her clothing and eased down onto the cool foam bed contained within an enclosed cryo pod.  The canopy descended and locked into place.  Warm fluids seeped in, filling the space completely, and she held her breath.  There was a moment of panic as she grew lightheaded, and her chest ached.  At last, she inhaled, and the fluids filled her lungs.  She was dizzy for only a moment before acclimating to the oxygenated gel.

Gradually, it cooled, and her world slowly faded away.

“All of it, I think.”  She said, and her body at last began to calm.  “What’s going on?”

Isaac returned, breathless.  “Afskya,” he announced.  “We’re only a few hours away at warp.”

“Ask the captain to set course.”

“Already did.”  He beamed and nodded with unabashed wonder as he regarded Zerki.  “Hey there.”  Looking to Bill, he asked, “Can she understand me?”

Regarding him sternly, Bill answered, “She’s entirely lucid.”

Glancing toward the patient monitor, Isaac whistled silently.  “That’s absolutely amazing.  Her beta waves are flat.”  Returning his attention to Zerki, he said, “Your brain must’ve rewired itself, somehow.  You’re very lucky to be alive.”

“That’s great.”  She scowled.  “Where’s my crew?”

Isaac stammered, and Bill quietly said, “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

“No,” hissed Zerki, and tears welled in her eyes.  Her throat bobbed, and she whispered, “No.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said.  “You were the only survivor we found.”

Weakly, she pushed against his chest and breathed, “No, no, you’re wrong!”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you sure?”

Bill nodded solemnly, his lips pressed thin.  “The black box was badly damaged, but we know something went terribly wrong with the gravity drive.  There was a catastrophic system failure that we think induced a gravitational singularity.  It was only around long enough to consume the colony decks and fling the command module all the way out here.”  He gently squeezed her hand.   “If it makes you feel any better, the colonists wouldn’t have felt any pain.”

“How could that possibly make me feel better?”  She wiped at her eyes and whispered, “Are you insane?”

Bill muttered, “Maybe you’d like some time alone with—”

“What about the command crew?” she interjected.

“The whole forward module was badly perforated, including the cryo decks.  By the look of it, the
Godspeed
weathered at least a dozen micrometeorite storms.”  He drew a deep breath and exhaled audibly.  “It’s a miracle you’re alive.”

“A miracle?”  Draped over her knees, she succumbed to her sorrow and wept.  Isaac excused himself after a moment, but Bill stayed by her side until she had exhausted her tears.

Sniffing, she said, “I need to call my husband and tell him I’m alive.  He’ll be worried sick by now.”

His heart raced as he considered his response.

“What?”  She sat up straighter.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Sure.  Maybe you can look him up when we get to Afskya.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a planet in the Sycorax System—it’s the ospyrean home world.”

She furrowed her brow.  “I don’t understand.  Who are the ospyreans?”

“That’s right,” he muttered.  “You wouldn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t know what?”  Had she the strength, she’d have slammed down her fist, but instead it plopped heavily against the bedrail.  “Please stop being evasive!”

“I’m not…!”  He huffed and regarded her with a mixture of patience and dread.  “Look, I’m doing the best I can.”  He got slowly to his feet.  Twisting around, he retrieved a sturdy data pad and returned to Zerki’s side.  “The ospyrean nations joined the Union almost two hundred years ago.”  He tapped text into a search field.  When the encyclopedia entry appeared, he turned it so Zerki could read.  “Back in 2720.”

Zerki’s eyes widened, and she shook her head with growing urgency.  “No, this is a joke.  You’re
lying
!”

His expression was pained.  “I wish I were.”

“But I left for Cetus-4 in... I left in…”  She tried desperately to remember.  “No, it’s 2492!”

At a loss for words, Bill stared at the tablet’s display screen, fidgeting with the protective case.

“Eli,” she breathed.  “Zeke… Ellie…  Oh my god,” Zerki wailed.

Bill set down the tablet and hesitantly rested his hand upon Zerki’s forearm.  He startled when she lunged, clutching him tightly, and he held her close as she sobbed.

Word had already been leaked by the time they landed, and Zerki was swarmed by the press the moment she disembarked.  Stories of her miraculous survival spread to every system.  Although she was sequestered for grief counseling, she could hardly gaze out a window without encountering either a journalist or the paparazzi.

The public demanded she receive restitution for her tragic loss, and the office of Afskya’s Lord Planetai sponsored a galaxy-wide fund- raiser.  It raised millions of credits on Zerki’s behalf.  In a grand public display, the Union’s Prime Minister traveled to Afskya and personally transferred the cash award to her account.

In time, the press moved on, and Zerki spent the following year alone in her newly constructed grand estate, crying herself to sleep.  Convinced her heart would never heal, her waking moments were plagued with thoughts of suicide.  She spent hours reading and rereading her family’s public record—their lives, and their deaths.

At last, she read her own obituary, as well as those of every person aboard the
MSTS Godspeed
’s doomed final flight.  She withdrew into herself, studying the centuries of galactic history she had missed.

Five years after her rescue, Zerki awoke with a start.

“That’s it,” she whispered, and she felt a surge of excitement.  Practically leaping from her bed, she raced to her data console and sat down.  With a giddy smile, she searched pages of starships for sale.  Days later, she closed escrow on a newly commissioned
Moray
-class star freighter.  She named it the
Sanguine Shadow
.

“I’ll need a crew,” she decided, and she searched for any of her living descendants who resided on Afskya.  She found three: Jackson Collins, Jane Sawyer and Jane’s daughter, Valerie.

Chapter 14

Zerki and her companions gathered in the aft hangar.  As they loaded their belongings into the shuttle’s cargo hold, Gavin caught Zerki’s attention.  Sheepishly, he asked, “Are we okay?”

“Of course we are,” she assured him.  “I just got caught off guard by how much it still hurts.”  With a determined nod, she said, “We can discuss it later.  Maybe during dinner, if you’re willing to try again, one of these days.”

He smiled slightly.  “Of course.”

They boarded the shuttle and sealed the loading ramp.  Zerki took the helm and piloted her transport into the void.  Huya spread out before them, a broad, emerald crescent.  Vast and scattered with clouds, the planet’s aura was faintly green.  The continent below appeared lush and unspoiled.

As the shuttle approached the cloud line, Zerki broke the silence.  “The Huyans have no love for the Union.  It would be easier if we all kept that affiliation to ourselves, but seeing as how it’s mostly ellogons and ghallooms down there, that might get a little tricky.  Feel free to use your real names, but if anyone presses us for a point of origin, tell them we’re visiting from the Yggdrasil system, planet Duneyrr.”

“Where is that,” asked Takeo, “Sector 4’s outer rim?  I’ve never heard of the Yggdrasil system.”

“It doesn’t exist,” replied Zerki.

Gavin looked puzzled.  “Wait…”

“Without access to the Union’s planets registry, they won’t be able to confirm or disprove our point of origin.”

He nodded in understanding as she continued, “You should know what to expect.  Last time I was here, the locals weren’t very warm toward outsiders.”

“Unless you count burning us in effigy,” interjected Valerie.  “That’s a kind of warm.”

D’Arro raised a feathered brow.  “We don’t know for sure it got that far.”

Valerie crossed her arms.  “They had scarecrows of us raised on pikes!”

He shrugged.

“There were torches.”

Zerki nodded.  “There
were
torches, D’Arro.”

With a quiet snort, he rolled his eyes.  “Anyway.”

Taking stock of Gavin’s and Takeo’s mounting dread, she hurriedly continued, “A lot can change in two years!  And the Huyans aren’t exactly famous for their recordkeeping.”  She cleared her throat and blew into her hands.  “What I mean is, try hard not to take it personally if we’re made to feel painfully unwelcome.”

“The three of us should disembark first,” suggested Taryn, “in case someone recognizes you.  We could say we bought the… this shuttle from you.”  She furrowed her brow.  “What’s the name of this shuttle?”

Zerki’s ears reddened slightly.  “It doesn’t have one.  Not yet.”

“After five years, her name is still Cargo Shuttle,” chuckled D’Arro.  “I don’t know how you get away with it.”

“It’s all this glorious celebrity,” answered Zerki.  “Keeps the red tape at bay.”  She looked to Taryn.  “Thanks for the offer, but that won’t be necessary.  I’ve been in communication with one of the higher-ups, and we’re not on any watch lists.  Furthermore, he made certain that anyone who was working the starport last time we were here got a surprise three-day weekend.  We’ll be fine.”

“I hope he’s more trustworthy than Galren,” said Valerie.  “He’s the one who turned us in.”

“Galren was assassinated six months ago.”

She looked surprised.  “Who got him?”

“No one took credit, so I’m guessing it was a family affair.”

“Captain,” began Takeo as he pivoted his tablet to face his companions.  “Are you sure about that?  According to local news feeds, his death was ruled accidental.”

Zerki chuckled.  “Maybe you should read a little more.”

Takeo paused to study the document.  With a wry smile, he leaned back and reported, “Got it.  Yeah, it seems he slipped in the tub and fell face first onto the business end of his own rail gun.”

She smiled slightly.  “Trust me, we’ll be fine.”  Facing forward, she advised, “Don’t be afraid to haggle the merchants down to something fair.  If they won’t budge, just move on.  There’s a lot of vendors in Kore.  Being shrewd carries a lot of weight with the trade guilds.”

Gavin asked, “Are we going shopping?”

Zerki regarded him with a roguish smile.  “You don’t like shopping?”

“I don’t mind it, but I thought we were here to sell off the salvage.”

“We are,” she said, “but you’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days now, and Filan doesn’t own anything that wasn’t donated or taken from the lost and found.”

Gavin nodded appreciatively.  “Good point.”

“A few more things worth noting: a day on Huya is just over 33 hours, and a lot of the plant life is semi-intelligent.  It gets freezing cold at night, and…”

Zerki trailed off.  “What’s going on?” she muttered.  Her console buzzed twice rapidly, angrily.  Kore’s landing grid overrode the shuttle’s flight controls and guided the vessel toward the starport, nestled against the coastal metropolis. “That’s new.  Maybe they’re finally getting back on their feet.”

The clouds parted before them.

Huya’s coasts and swamplands, her rolling hills and golden mountains stretched out before them as they closed on the city of Kore.  A near-constant and gentle breeze ruffled coastal forests, and a hodgepodge of structures sprawled across the land. Under her rapidly rotating binary sun, Huya’s sky was dark blue directly overhead, fading to brilliant scarlet red toward the horizon.

The shuttle’s landing struts bounced and settled on the surface of an open-air hangar bay.  Kore’s bustling starport spread far and wide, a sea of diverse and salty folk.  At its western end, it doubled as a seaport.  Old taverns and timeworn stone spires lined the perimeter.  They stood tall amongst tents, betting cages, street food vendors and shanties.  Pillowy clouds scudded by under the midday suns, casting shadows upon the roofs and streets of the harborage.

Zerki and her companions filed out the crew hatch onto patched and re-patched blacktop.  As they stretched and took in their surroundings, a ghalloom harbormaster swiftly approached.  Zerki stepped forward to greet him with a terse smile.

“
Ga karrac
, most salient starfarer,” he oozed.  “And a wildly prosperous longday.”  His skin was velvety and indigo in color.  It had the mottling of tiny cobblestones.  Two glassy eyes extended slightly from the sides of his head, and vestigial tentacles wreathed his beaklike mouth.  He stood half as tall as Gavin.  “
Ga haree
, my auspicious adventurer, this poor little bird has no name?”

“
Ha karrag
, O wondrous warden of the waves.”  The captain crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze.  “This bird roosts within the boughs of the
Sanguine Shadow
, positioned in high orbit, and she cannot fly far on her own.  As such, she has no need of a name.”

“
Alee haree
, my cavalier caller, but I must have a name for my leger.”  He squinted smugly.  “Or a fee that would generously offset the extra work involved in logging so lovely a nameless bird.”