The unbounded, p.33
The Unbounded, page 33
17-Grandeur
Drumheller, heading to the rogue planet
Terina sat with the others in the Prayer Room for the final few minutes of contemplation. The Captain had spun up for gravity and called them for prayers early. Beezan was anxiously awaiting the ID from the ship. Terina didn’t know whether to hope for a rescue or be the rescuers. Her mom had explained to her that they had already lost their outbound speed. It was too late to take the 12-year option to 8J. They were in this for 20 years now. Kelson’s life for sure. Maybe Iricana and Thunder’s and most of Beezan’s. And Katie separated from Lanezi. She thought of Azann. It was his story. And now it was their story. Except without the Chike—she hoped.
She and Jarvie would make it home, maybe alone. It was too soon to see him in a whole new light, but it was comforting to know that her gut reaction wasn’t outright horror.
For his part, Jarvie seemed completely distracted, asking several times about Quay. She’d shamelessly used the opportunity to document the whole Quay story. It had taken him three hours to tell it last night, the whole saga of his time on the Pearl. First person source. Thrilling.
Whatever missing ship that was, and there were so many possibilities, finding it would be a piece of history. Her mom was agitated. Mad at herself, impatient with Jarvie and being careful not to cross Beezan, who was in a state of forced calm.
Beezan asked them to come to the Observation Bay after prayers, where he’d had breakfast set up. No one was ready to eat, but they got their drinks and sat down.
“Drumheller, how much longer?”
“3 minutes, 10 seconds for response from the beacon.”
They sat quietly, nervously sipping.
Slowly, Beezan reached across the table and put his hand, palm up, in front of her mom. Sequoia blinked in confusion for a second, but Jarvie reached out and took Beezan’s hand. Then Sequoia took a deep breath, nodded and gripped hands with both of them. The rest of the crew reached out, like a sports team. Terina had to get out of her chair and slip in beside Jarvie to reach, setting her hand on top of Katie’s, who gave her a brave smile.
“10 seconds.”
Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. Twenty. A few seconds processing could be expected. They all turned to the screen. Twenty-five seconds.
“Beacon ID: Double-checking.”
There were small gasps of consternation.
“Beacon ID: The 81-Petals.”
Terina threw up her hands and shrieked with excitement. There were exclamations around the table. She met her mom’s eyes. Her unhappiness was tempered with amazement. Jarvie just looked more confused, but Beezan was nodding his head.
“You were right Captain,” Thunder said. “We are here for a reason.”
“And 81-Petals must have sent a light-speed distress call 15 years ago! Only 5 years to go.” Iricana added.
It was more than history, Terina realized. It was destiny.
32 NEW DIMENSIONS
1-Light Eve
Enkindler, approaching Friendship a-rings
Dear Katie, Lanezi wrote,
I hope this journal gets to you. I fear all the messages I sent from the Cheetah were deleted, or are still with the Cheetah, wherever it is.
I’m on the shuttle Enkindler at 5F, now known as Friendship. On 3-Light we are going to reach the a-rings and jump to Canyon. I have no worries about the jump. However, we’re now approaching the area where the extra gravity ball blew up, so I turned up the particle and radiation fields. Also I’m going to order full rations, starting tomorrow, to prepare for jump. I just can’t jump in this fuzzy state of mind.
The twins have been so good. Inspiring even. I am tired and hungry, and sick of wearing the vapor mask, and getting claustrophobia from being in the survival tent. But I can’t complain. It would be so low of me and I don’t want to let the twins down.
Euro and Io look almost normal-size in their layers of sweaters and blankets. They do their chores, say their prayers, fix the food, play quiet games, and don’t complain about the minimal washing. We have water, but you know, it’s really cold and we don’t want to spend the fuel to heat it and recycle it any more than necessary. I told them they could have tea once a day, but they drink it cold. They have been vigilant about conserving energy. They don’t even listen to music. They say it plays in their heads. They never fuss with each other. I suggested they spend some time apart for variety, but that made them unhappy. They help me and take care of me. After I go to the cold hold for food, they put their warm blankets around me. It’s so touching.
They keep me focused and mindful of my command. I am ridiculously excited about eating more tomorrow. We’ll have a special Feast. And soon we’ll know if we have a long run in and have to go back to rationing or can eat again. And I hope and pray that I’ll survive long enough to see you.
Lanezi saved what he wrote, fingers too cold to go on. He put his gloves back on and tightened his restraints, pulled Whisper and Summer closer, and settled down to sleep. In the dark dark of a ship in survival mode, with not even a panel light, he tried to imagine himself somewhere else. Somewhere warm and bright. The twins were murmuring together.
“Euro, do you think praying burns calories?”
“Dr. Tenshi says the brain takes a lot of energy whether you’re thinking or not. ‘So you might as well think!’”
“If our souls get energy from praying, where does it come from?”
“That’s spiritual energy, not physical.”
“So where does spiritual energy come from?”
“From God, I suppose.”
“So maybe if we pray enough, we can equalize our energy.”
Lanezi smiled to himself. He was never sure if he was in touch with his soul. Like now. He tried to let his mind go and see if there was something more, but maybe the mind and soul were so interconnected you could not tell them apart. Maybe the brain took extra power to connect to the soul. Maybe it was like jumping. It would be so nice to let the soul take over. At least it wouldn’t be hungry.
3-Light
Cheetah, preparing to jump out of the pocket
“Friendship,” Zahar whispered to Kiwi, just in case podpups had any mystic influence. After hugging and stowing him, she got in her cocoon and started on the brackets. Next to her, Thayne was complaining about being put under early.
“Don’t do it,” he insisted.
“Your doctor’s orders. And the Captain’s,” Caspia explained. “Next time maybe.”
“There may not be a next time!”
“Exactly the attitude we don’t need. I’ll give you two more minutes.” Caspia left him to say whatever prayers or make whatever peace with himself he could. But Zahar knew he was far too troubled to do that in two minutes.
Caspia set the helmet on Zahar and they tested links. “You’re good,” she said, with a light rap on the helmet.
Tenshi was already under. If there was more discussion with Thayne, she didn’t hear it. But as Zahar flicked through her helmet screens, she saw that he was under. That left Caspia to be passenger monitor. She had requested to ride this one out with Evan.
“1 minute.”
They settled in for the one hour run. Piece of cake compared to the usual six hours. Friendship, she chanted to herself. Anywhere actually. Regular space. A-rings. Something familiar. She thought of her family. I just want to go home.
She had great faith in Evan. Better to have a wanderer when you didn’t know where the path was. I must banish all doubts, oppose any thoughts of anger.
“Strive ye to banish that darkness for ever and ever . . .”1
Evan got us here. He can get us home. That’s the straight logic of it.
“Banish discord from this world and illumine it with the light of concord.”2
After 45 minutes she started to fret, did some deep breathing, and checked through her screens. She could trigger her jump drug at any time, but if they were going to die, she wanted to be awake for it.
Nkiroo was counting down the fake PAT bumps. Fake as there were no a-rings, but equally painful bursts of acceleration. “Six more,” he announced, calm as could be.
She focused on Friendship as she heard the countdown. She could not see paths, and was hesitant to imagine, so she focused on supporting Evan, as if her hand was on his back, ready to run with him.
“Two. One.”
There was a feeling of surprise and amazement, like recognizing your room upside down in nogee, and she felt a faint tug. Got it! There was a thrill from the crew. They were going somewhere, but the thrill warped into puzzlement and alarm.
Melawn had learned, in his years with Thayne, when something hurt, didn’t make sense, or was breaking up orderly data, just shut down and observe. And this made no sense. Usually there was no feeling of time or space in the path, even if you went too deep. But he felt pulled, as if on the edge of a whirlpool of time. Blank, blank. Don’t distract Evan.
There was something in the path, another ship. The Ramian! Had they been here for months? What would happen? But it was already happening. In the strangest, scariest moment of his life, he felt himself, the ship, and the space around them surge and push through the Ramian ship. People, as terrified as he was, were standing all around their ship. He glimpsed one Ramian in particular, arms up as if he were an old-fashioned preacher, calling his people to him. Why aren’t they in their jump chairs? And at the center of their ship—a black pulsing menace.
Somehow the Cheetah kept going, now with the Ramian ship bobbing behind it. And then they dropped into normal space with a horrible lurch. Alarms were blaring. His cocoon was pressurized.
“Proximity alarm.”
“Venting alarm. Arc 6.”
Melawn flicked through his screens with one finger. Evan, next to him, had taken manual control. On the tactical display, Melawn could see the tumbling Ramian ship, perilously close behind them. Blasts of acceleration in different directions were rocking him in his chair. Someone he didn’t know had taken command. A calm decisive voice was giving orders. “Cheetah, program best trajectory to avoid the ship behind us.”
“Venting alarm. Arc 7.”
“Increase particle field. Increase radiation field. Cancel venting alarms. Crew! Stand by for maneuvers!” And even as he heard it, the ship flipped end over end in a sickening roll meant for far-smaller vessels. On the tactical, Melawn could see that Evan had just turned them so as not to blast the trailing ship with their radiation.
Evan, Melawn realized, coming to his senses. Evan’s voice was somehow changed, more grounded, in command. Despite their situation, hope surged through Melawn.
“Nkiroo!” Evan said. “I feel something from the a-rings.”
“Checking.”
Evan again, “Debris field is clearing. Prepare to reorient.”
Another sickening lurch flung them around to their regular orientation.
“Robots, report to damaged areas,” Evan ordered. “Crew, stay put, please. Cheetah, scan for beacons.”
“A-ring beacon confirmed: Friendship. Ramian beacon on the ship behind us. Human and Ramian treaty beacon located. Enkindler message beacon located.”
“Enkindler live beacon located.”
There was a gasp from the crew. Everyone must be awake now. Someone was crying.
“Location of Enkindler live beacon?” Evan asked.
“In the a-rings. They are near jump velocity.”
“Jump crew, report in.”
“Nkiroo, alive and well.”
“Melawn,” he meant to say with cool efficiency, but it came out as a whisper, “alive and well.”
“Passenger monitor, report.”
The crying stopped with a great sniff. “All green in the Passenger Lounge.”
“Cheetah to Enkindler: All alive here. Godspeed to you.”
“Cheetah, condition of Ramian vessel?”
“Severe venting. Radiation leaks. Recommend avoidance.”
“Stay in range. Contact them using the Luminesse translator.”
Melawn’s heart started to calm and then realized, with tremendous joy, that they had survived, they had made it to Friendship, and that Lanezi must have survived.
“Cheetah, venting report.”
“Vents are sealed. Arcs 6 and 7 are depressurized. Cargo hold is breached. The ship is stable down to tertiary resonances. Arc 1 and its auxiliary rooms are safe.”
“All crew, you can get up now.”
There was a tremendous cheer over the s’links. Melawn pulled out of his brackets, unsealed his cocoon, and yanked off his helmet. He and Nkiroo could barely contain themselves, reaching to gently help Evan. When they pulled off his helmet, a new person looked up at them. Melawn grabbed the side of the chair, puzzled. The same easy-going smile, the same bright eyes, but someone was home. “Evan,” he whispered as they helped him out of the cocoon.
Melawn was about to hug him, when Evan looked behind them. “Caspia?” He didn’t get a meter away from his chair before she was there and they were hugging each other so tightly Melawn feared for their ribs.
Through tears of joy, Caspia laughed, “Evan, Evan, you are back.”
Then everyone but Thayne grabbed on, hugging the both of them, delirious with joy. Even Thayne was smiling and saying, “We made it!” And in the moment, Thayne seemed one of them again.
Enkindler, in the Friendship a-rings
“NAV Alert.”
“We’re in the rings!” Lanezi protested uselessly.
“Cheetah Beacon detected.”
“What?”
“Ramian Beacon detected.”
Oh my God. The Cheetah is back. They’re alive! I should have kept the twins awake to deal with this. I can’t be distracted.
“Seven laps.”
Should I abort? “Enkindler, show visual,” but it was useless. He couldn’t see more than a bright dot.
Another surge, bump. Keep breathing. Concentrate. They may need help. But he could send help from Canyon. He had every reason to jump.
“Enkindler to Cheetah: We are alive, but low on supplies and power. I’m going to jump and send help back for you. Full report on my message beacon—”
He didn’t get a breath in before the surge, and had a little panic. He couldn’t even remember what he was going to say. Breathe.
“Enkindler, send the message. Show only the jump screen.”
He didn’t live through everything in his life, through Luminesse and Harbor and this starvation run just to get distracted at the last minute. FOCUS!
He became one with the surges, every one taking him closer to the jump.
“NAV alert.”
He nearly jumped out of his seat.
“Ramian vessel has exploded.”
Good God. How horrible. “No more NAV alerts unless they’re ours!”
“NAV alert! Navigation error.” And they were kicked to the side.
But after all these years, Lanezi was getting a sense of when things were about to go wrong in the a-rings. His hand was on the manual control and he was already avoiding the misaligned-next segment. They shot out of the a-rings.
NO! He did not want to abort. He wanted out. All that practice at honesty was forcing him to be honest with himself. He did not want to go back to the Cheetah. He looked at the screen: .99JV. So close! They had a little fuel. Now that he’d broken free of the circle of a-rings, he would risk all their lives to be free of the Cheetah.
He held his finger down on the thruster. I need that .01! I need a path. Canyon was totally the other way. No close star was even in their direction. He didn’t care.
I am a long jumper!
“JV.”
Lanezi threw the power and experience of his mind behind the desperation of his heart. Yes! A very clear, strong path appeared. Blue. Where it went, he had no idea. And he didn’t care. I’m taking charge of my life. And he boosted the Enkindler into the path.
Goodbye Thayne.
Good luck everyone.
It was a deep, deep path. He and the twins were weak from their rationing. But they were strong in spirit. And the pups were strong, even Whisper. They surged along. The sentries hovered, but Lanezi willed them away. We’re going to live.
Cheetah, near Friendship a-rings
What is that knocking? Zahar looked at the tactical screen.
She didn’t see any debris coming their way from the Ramian. Maybe it was small stuff. She wished the Ramians would answer.
Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding white. Zahar gasped. The others, still hugging each other, grabbed holdbars and each other and turned to the screen. Their happiness froze on their faces as they realized that the Ramian ship had exploded.
“I think we should secure—” she tried to say, but too late. They were kicked to the side and up, everyone flailing for holds at the last second. But it was more like a big wave than a sharp smack.
“Okay? Okay? Is everyone okay?” she asked.
“Yes, yes,” they answered, sorting themselves out.
“We better strap for a bit . . .” But there was that knocking again. And her mind flashed back to being trapped and freezing in the airlock.
“Cheetah, report on Enkindler.”
“Still in the a-rings.”
Now the others heard the knocking. Subdued again from the destruction of the Ramian, they exchanged worried looks. “Let’s just check that out before we settle down,” Zahar suggested.
Evan and Caspia stayed in the Command Bay to watch over things. She and Tenshi led the others, hand over hand to Arc 2 and opened the door. They squeezed in the airlock. Zahar peeked through the window and didn’t believe her eyes. She shook her head and thought she was having a delusion. “I. You. Better just open the door.”
Tenshi did, and there, lining the rimway on both sides were at least a hundred Ramians. “How is this possible?” Thayne asked.
And the Ramians all turned toward them, waves of blue and purple people in colorful clothes and jewels. But they were tired, strained, faded. One of them floated to the center. He was younger, a teenager maybe. “I saw him,” Melawn whispered, “when we passed.”
