18


All three of the Union carriers went into stealth mode at the same time. Jelly alerted the rest of the crew, rousing them from sleep. In minutes, they were all back on the bridge.
“What happened?” Elise demanded. “I just barely nodded off.”
“You’ve been in your quarters for three hours,” I said.
She looked surprised. “Really?”
Tom and Path looked tired, but neither said anything. The long cat and mouse game with the Union was wearing on all of us.
“Yeah, really,” I said. “I knew Nebs wouldn’t give up so easily. Jelly, take us as close to the next slip tunnel as you can without crossing near the last point we detected the Union carriers.”
“Yes, Captain,” Jelly said.
“Could they be trying to hide which tunnel they are taking?” Tom asked.
“They would only do that if they thought we were still looking for them, in which case they would stay here and look for us,” I said. “Their run for the tunnel was a ruse to draw us out. Nebs probably figured out that I don’t like running at speed in stealth mode. He has a hostage and a valuable ship and probably thinks I’m stupid enough to show myself.”
“There is a possibility, Reaper Cain, that they may detect us if they get close enough,” X-37 warned me.
“That’s what I’m worried about. I didn’t think they were actually going to leave the system. There is no need for them to go into stealth mode since they just have to come out of it when they make their jump,” I said. “They may have developed a new protocol requiring them to stay concealed for as long as possible to minimize the chance they are observed, but it’s unlikely.”
Tom took his position at the weapons terminal, while Elise took over sensors and communications. I stayed in the captain’s chair and made a decision. There was no way I was going to risk my friends trying to rescue Henshaw unless the opportunity was too good to pass up.
Ship-to-ship conflict was not my area of expertise. The only way I could help Henshaw was to be patient and go after him when Nebs had his ships in drydock or something similar.
“Jelly, it’s time to apply Henshaw’s detection program to this tactical problem and find those stealth carriers,” I said.
“We will begin immediately,” Jelly promised.
“I will help,” X-37 said.
“It will be a challenge.” Jelly flashed several search grips on the main holo view. “Asking James Henshaw for the rest of his detection software will be the first thing I do if we manage to rescue him.”
Finding the three carriers was like searching an asteroid belt by hand.
“Keep us in stealth mode,” I said.
“Yes, Captain,” Jelly acknowledged.
“This is going to get serious,” I said, drawing the travel vectors I believed the three stealth carriers would follow. If I was right, it wouldn’t be long before Nebs’s ships had us from three points of navigation, just like he had taken Henshaw’s yacht.
No one spoke as my predictions slowly resolved themselves. Three icons appeared on the holographic map of the system. Smaller icons swarmed out to form a defensive sphere around each carrier. The larger ships immediately began new scans. Shuttles zipped away to explore a large asteroid that even I thought looked suspicious—just large enough for a smuggler’s vessel like the Jelly to land in one of its craters.
“I suppose now is a good time for you to gloat, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said publicly.
Elise snorted a laugh.
“If Henshaw had switched sides, they would’ve found us already. We’re not far enough away from them to escape if he went turncoat and gave us up,” I said.
“By that logic, we could attempt to rescue him. We’re close, we’re invisible, why not help out a friend who has remained loyal to us,” Elise argued. “Then we can all go to help the Bold Freedom.”
I thought about it, I really did. X-37 remained silent, which was interesting. He normally had advice to offer on any tactical problem and was programmed to hedge my emotional decisions when necessary.
“X, I need some information. What resources do we have? Give me an assessment,” I said, seriously considering acting on Elise’s argument. A nearly suicidal rescue attempt of Henshaw might actually be the safest thing we could do right now, but I wanted to be sure before I got everyone killed.
“The system is robust with opportunities,” X-37 said. “Starting with the most obvious avenue of escape is the slip tunnel only hours from our position. The next closest of the tunnels is several days away and would take us far beyond the deadline to help the Bold Freedom.”
“What about planets? Is there anything worth exploring?” I asked, an idea forming in my head that I already knew would work—as soon as I smoothed out a few wrinkles.
“Really?” Elise asked, her voice full of disgust and bewilderment.
“I’d love to explore the planet in the green zone,” Tom chimed in, “but our initial assessment suggests it does not have resources that can be easily converted into the fuel for a modern starship, or a retrofitted hunk of junk like the Bold Freedom.”
“So, what you’re saying,” I said, smiling, “is that if we took a shuttle down there, it would look like an act of desperation. Anyone pursuing us would know we were out of options and attempting some sort of last-ditch solution. X, do you think Nebs’s crew knows about the Bold Freedom’s distress call?”
“I don’t see how they can not be aware of the signal. They were looking for us at the same time we detected the distress call, and would pick up anything like that,” X-37 said.
“I agree,” Jelly added.
“Head for the planet, Jelly. Prep a shuttle,” I said, pointing at Tom.
“Aren’t you going?” Elise asked, not seeming convinced I could be so cold-blooded. The expression on her face told me that she was thinking hard and had probably figured out what I’d intended but wasn’t going to say so and risk my sarcastic response.
Tom also remained quiet.
From near the door, Path spoke for the first time in quite a while. “You are going to sacrifice a shuttle on autopilot.”
I pointed one finger at the sword saint and pretended to pull an invisible trigger. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We need to make it convincing.”
* * *
“Everyone knows their part,” I said. “We don’t have time to go through it again.”
By the time we reached the single planet in the green zone of the system, we had developed a basic script and worked out radio signals between the shuttle we were going to send down to the surface and the Jellybird.
Tom had come up with a way to send my half of the dialogue to the shuttle in a maintenance routine that was then converted into a broadcast message back to the Jellybird. The Union communication experts would probably figure that out, but hopefully not before the ruse had accomplished its purpose.
“I’m launching the shuttle now,” Elise said from the docking bay.
“You’re on,” Tom said.
“Wish me luck. We’ll conduct our survey the moment we put boots on the ground,” I said, then waited for the delay. My voice came back to the bridge sounding distorted.
“You should have brought me on the mission,” Tom replied.
I started talking into my mic before he was done with this line because I had to compensate for the delay caused by the signal bouncing back and forth between the ships. “You’re just a mechanic. Elise and I can handle it. Path will watch our back.”
“I still think I should be on the away team,” Tom said.
Again, I started talking when he was about halfway through his statement. “That’s an order, mechanic. We can handle it,” I muttered under my breath and turned away from the mic to sound like I was distracted. “I hate dealing with amateurs. Makes me almost want to go back to the Union.”
“I’m never going back! I’d rather die on the stupid planet trying to get fuel,” Elise said, using her helmet comm. She was on her way back to the bridge and sounded out of breath.
I hoped no one on the UFS Nightmare or other ships saw through our hastily thrown together drama.
The shuttle arced away from the Jellybird. Seconds later, she activated her cloak—not moving until after she disappeared, hopefully convincing the Union that Tom was untrained in fleet tactics and lacked the initiative to go anywhere without me on the ship to tell him what to do.
“We really can’t afford to lose that shuttle,” Jelly said. “We have no way to replace it.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, watching the little ship disappear beneath cloud cover as we headed away from the planet at best speed.
“It appears the UFS Black Wing was much closer to catching us than we anticipated,” Jelly said as the Black Wing’s icon appeared in orbit around the cloud-covered planet. The UFS Darklance joined her moments later.
“Watch out for the Nightmare,” I warned. “I bet Nebs is just waiting for us to show ourselves.”
I counted to ten in my head, then twenty, and finally glanced at the mission clock.
Union micro-fighters zipped away from their mother ships, plunging into the atmosphere of the planet.
“Shall we continue to accelerate?” Jelly asked. “We have never traveled at this speed while under the stealth cloak.”
Jelly, X, Tom, and Henshaw had all told me to stop worrying about moving at speed while under the cloak. My apprehension was irrational, more of an old soldier’s superstition than anything based on science.
“Continue at speed. The Bold Freedom is running out of time,” I said. “Take the most direct route to the objective they were trying to reach when they became stranded.”
“We are now en route at our best possible speed,” Jelly advised.
“I’ll stay on the bridge,” Tom volunteered.
“Thanks, Tom. Elise and Path, get some rest,” I ordered.
Elise gave me the middle finger, but I could tell she was playing it up. “Good job, Reaper. I hope you can still rescue Henshaw. He was counting on us.”
“Be patient, kid,” I said.
* * *
A medic squatted beside Grady, staring down at me in fascination rather than horror. “He lost his godsdamn arm. I can’t believe he hasn’t bled out.”
“I used my tourniquet,” Grady said. “Don’t know what happened to him. And he’s too mean and stubborn to die.”
“Maybe. Between blood loss and shock, he’s in trouble. The evacuation shuttles aren’t coming around to this sector for another twenty minutes. I’m going to have to seal it,” the medic said, removing a cauterizing tool from his kit. “It’s not meant to treat amputations and this wound is ragged as hell. Turn away if you have to, Grady. It’s going to stink.”
I wanted to talk but couldn’t. Grady and the medic were ghostlike in my memory, half imagined. The man burned the wound shut and loaded me with pain medication.
The mere mention of Carson’s World made me smell burning flesh for years afterward.
* * *
It was the third day back on the UFS Gigantic when my life changed. Grady came to visit every day, but this time, he had news. Some officer named Nebs had offered him a chance to try out for the Spector Corps, or the Reaper Corps. Apparently, there had been some arguments about the name of this new special operations group.
“Doesn’t sound very organized,” I said, focusing on Grady. Sometimes I could forget I was ruined and my career was over.
“It’s a chance to be the best of the best, the top one percent of one percent of the Union military.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’m happy for you, Grady.”
My friend didn’t look happy. He stared at his feet, leaning his elbows on his knees and rocking his weight forward from the cheap chair several times. I knew this meant he was really agitated.
“I’d have to let them cut off my arm and jack with my nervous system,” he whispered, staring me directly in my eyes. “I don’t think I can do that, Cain. I’m not a crazy fucker like you.”
“That sounds messed up,” I said, hating how doped up I sounded. “What are they, a bunch of sadistic dicks? Most units settle for a tattoo.”
“You weren’t listening. They are going to replace the arm.” He hesitated. “I suggested they recruit you, since…”
“Since I’m missing an arm,” I said. “Relax, Grady. I know it’s gone. You can talk about it. At least the shrapnel didn’t take my eye. Just half my face.”
“They take your eyes too, or maybe it’s just one eye,” Grady said. “You’re right, Cain. They are sadistic.”
“But they could replace my arm? What if I lost my eye? Could they fix that too?” I asked.
“I wasn’t allowed to ask a lot of questions, but Crank from second platoon told me he knows a guy who worked on a project who had to encrypt some top-secret files. He said the arms are top secret tech, but it’s their missions and purpose that the brass really doesn’t want to talk about.”
“Dark ops shit, probably,” I said, feeling way too hot to stay in this bed. The meds had my body temperature all over the place.
“Darker than dark.” Grady sat back, something he always did a few minutes before he left me here to stare at the ceiling. “Anyway, I guess the same guy says they only want the best soldiers in the Union, guys in their prime that are willing to make the ultimate sacrifices.”
“Well, good luck. Tell me what you decide, if you can. They’ll probably put you on a ship with a communications blackout the moment you sign on the dotted line,” I said.
“I just decided,” Grady said after he stood from the cheap medical bay chair. “I’m telling them no. Spec ops is enough for me. We have a good team, and with Clark gone, things are looking up.”
“What happened to Clark?” I asked. Maybe he’d fallen into the river.
“He got promoted,” Grady said.
“Of course.” I wanted to sleep for a long time. On the one hand, I lived for Grady’s visits, on the other, I wished he would get sent on a mission someplace far away from me. My friend was in his prime and I didn’t like feeling envious.
* * *
“There’s something showing up on the scans,” I said, examining the data from the slip tunnel. “Can you understand this?”
“I cannot, Captain,” Jelly advised.
“I’ve consulted my database as well,” X-37 said. “My information is only as good as my last update with Union servers, approximately ninety days before you were incarcerated. There is no evidence anyone has been this far from civilization, but it appears to be a marker or message.”
I leaned back in my chair, contemplating the information. Several slip tunnels beyond the Deadlands had been marked this way, but this one contained an additional message we couldn’t decipher. Our exploration was giving us a greater understanding of the network in uncharted space, and we were near our objective, the same objective the Bold Freedom had been trying to reach—probably a fuel source of some sort.
“What do you think, Tom?” I asked.
“Someone has been here,” he said. “Entrances to slip space don’t mark themselves.”
“This is not a Union marking, no matter how old or encrypted the messages,” X-37 said. “I might not be able to decipher it or be able to determine its origin.”
“What about you, Elise?” I asked. “What do you think?”
“Somebody took the time to mark an S.G point. Which means they had to map them. If we follow the marked tunnels instead of just the ones we detect, we’ll eventually arrive someplace. We might even run into someone. Hopefully, they’re not as bad as the Union or the Sarkonians.”
I spun the captain’s chair to face Path. “Give us some of that sword saint wisdom. What do you think?”
“It’s a long message, so it must be important. It’s either a warning or a promise,” he said. “Or maybe a prayer.”
I reviewed the data again, not ready to give my opinion, although I essentially agreed with all of them, but mostly with Path. I thought it was a warning.
Even without the assistance of X-37’s decryption protocols, it was recognizable as a worded message. It could be the border of a new empire, a rival to the Union, or even aliens we were prepared to understand.
“In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter what it says. We all agree this is the fastest way to the objective of the Bold Freedom. We have to go or risk failing everyone who survived Dreadmax,” I said, thinking about Bug and his friends. “Nebs won’t stop chasing us, so no matter which way we go, we will eventually have an opportunity to help Henshaw. Unless new information proves he’s a traitor.”
“He’s not a traitor,” Elise said.
“How can you know that?” I asked.
“Why are you so paranoid?” she countered.
My reasons for caution were so numerous, it was ridiculous to even answer the question. And I thought she should know better, but she was still a teenager who couldn’t resist arguing with authority.
“I’ve met Novasdaughter before,” I said, surprising myself.
Elise, Tom, and even Path stared at me in surprise.
“And you didn’t kill her?” Elise asked. “That’s impressive.”
“She was a kid on Carson’s World. I don’t kill children,” I said, regretting my lack of control. This wasn’t the time for full disclosure, no matter how cathartic it might be. How long had it been since I had anyone I trusted to talk to?
“I’m not sure why you’re bringing this up now,” X-37 said privately.
“Neither am I, X.” The thought had popped into my head and I’d spoken without thinking. That in and of itself was a red flag.
Elise and the others waited expectantly. The situation was awkward, and I wanted out of it as quickly as possible.
“We’re a long way from the Union. This slip tunnel will take us even farther,” I said.
“You want to leave them here?” Elise asked. “In what, a life pod? We’re fresh out of shuttles in case you forgot.”
“I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy,” I said. “Well, maybe I would, but that isn’t the point. We’re stuck with Randolph and Novasdaughter. The message on this marker made me think. Don’t worry about it.”
“There’s more to it and you know it,” Elise said, confronting me as only she could. “You were going to tell us how you know Novasdaughter and why it’s important.”
“I can’t talk about it and you don’t want to know. Carson’s World was the reason I became a Reaper. Leave it at that.”
“Does she remember you?” Elise asked.
I nodded.
“So, she’s probably going to kill you if she gets the chance,” Elise said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “I need to get off the bridge. There’s a glass of whiskey and a cigar with my name on them. You coming, Tom?”
“I probably better not leave you alone. Whiskey and cigar time is a hard duty, but I’ll rise to the occasion. Never leave your wingman, right?” Tom said.
“Jelly, take us into the slip tunnel,” I ordered.
Everyone took their places. Once we were safely inside the tunnel, Elise took the first watch.
“Reaper,” Elise said as I was about to leave. “Should I be worried about pursuit in here?”
“No,” I answered. “There is technology that allows ships to remain cloaked in a tunnel, but it is extremely rare.”
“Nebs would have it if anyone did,” Elise said.
The moment stretched out.
“Then stay alert. We’ll come back if needed. From now on, no one does double shifts. We need to stay sharp,” I said.
That seemed to reassure the young woman.
* * *
Tom met me on the observation deck for whiskey and cigars. We didn’t talk much, but I knew he had navigation problems and stealth cloak theories on his mind.
Elise was on the bridge. Path was wherever Path was when he wasn’t standing guard or beating one of us with a practice sword.
“Have you talked to Path recently?” I asked.
“Of course,” Tom said, looking up from something he had been reading. “The man is a pleasant conversationalist. Very attentive.”
“Sure,” I said, then blew a ragged smoke ring. “Like talking to a wall, I imagine.”
“He has some interesting stories,” Tom countered.
“Really? Like what?”
“Stuff about Henshaw. Crazy things he saw while working security at parties. Metaphysical theorizing,” Tom said.
“Interesting.” The sword saint had become almost unreal to me, a creature made from nothing but mental discipline and deadly skills. “He’s actually a real person. Who knew?”
“Do you want to talk about Carson’s World and Novasdaughter?” Tom asked.
“Not everyone in the Reaper Corps thought I was a good candidate for the job,” I said, then raised my cybernetic left arm. “You had to volunteer to have your arm replaced, but mine was already gone.”
“What kind of psychopath would let the Union cut off a limb?” Tom asked, then seemed embarrassed. “Sorry. That sounded bad.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I scowled.
“Why did they accept you if that was a requirement?” Tom asked in a quieter voice. It was like he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.
“They would never admit it, but I’m sure they only wanted people with a death wish. A man who craves death has no problem taking a life. And they took my eye while I was sedated for the nerve-ware surgery. That took eleven days. When I woke up, I was a different person,” I said. “It’s been a long time since I thought about these things.”
“Elise would be in Union custody if you weren’t…what you are, and I’d be dead from trying to stop them from taking her on Greendale,” Tom said.
“All true,” I said, then sipped my whiskey. “But I’m still just an asshole with a death wish who did a lot of bad things for the Union—and might still be doing those things if they hadn’t turned on me.”
“Don’t give me that,” Tom argued. “You saved Novasdaughter’s mother. I know you did, even if you won’t tell us how or why. You protect Elise and the rest of us like we’re your family. And you won’t stop until you find your mother and sister. You don’t have a death wish. You’re trying to save the galaxy and everyone in it.”
“Why would I want to save anything in the galaxy after all I’ve seen?” I squeezed my whiskey tumbler so hard, I almost spilled it. “Let’s agree to disagree.”
“Sure, Hal,” Tom said, “but you know I’m right.”
I didn’t respond or look at him for a long time. The holo view and the galaxy it represented soaked up my attention as I tried to ignore the mechanic.
He went back to his book and I finished my cigar. When it was done, I watched the holo view and attempted to empty my mind. We were in an uncharted slip tunnel racing toward a destination we knew nothing about—other than the assumption the Bold Freedom had been attempting to get there to refuel.
“X, can you ask Jelly to play some epic music on the observation deck?” I asked.
X-37 answered at once. “Right away, Reaper Cain.”