10


“Just let me fall,” she begged. “Protect my girls.”
Angry tears spilled down my face. Pain screamed through every joint and muscle fiber in my left arm. “I don’t know where they are.”
* * *
It was amazing how far slip tunnels could move ships. We had picked the nearest tunnel and jumped, not wanting to leave any clues for the Union that we had been in the last system, much less which direction we had chosen to travel.
Last time, I had wanted to mark their position relative to us, determine if they were gaining on us, and count their numbers. It seemed Nebs was keeping his group together and that we still had a slight speed advantage when moving from slip tunnel to slip tunnel at relativistic speeds. All of that was good information, but now I wanted to make them guess without risking they catch a glimpse of us before we could clear this strange system.
What amazed me, when we scanned for slip tunnels and also postulated the location of the Bold Freedom and its probable destination from where we currently were located, was the enormous distances we were dealing with in this flight from the Union.
At the moment, we found ourselves with a particularly troublesome nebula between where we were and where we wanted to be. The planet the Bold Freedom had been trying to reach was simple to reach from this system, but it was going to take a lot of hopping about to get where the Bold Freedom was stranded.
Basically, we were coming from the opposite direction with a whole lot of scary stuff between us.
“I thought we had established enough data from the stars we have seen since leaving the Deadlands to fix a location on the freighter,” I complained.
“That’s true, but not many of the stars are visible from where we jumped to this time. We need to triangulate those we have identified by their light spectrums and neighboring celestial objects,” X-37 said.
“But there are some we recognize, right?” I asked.
“The more points we have, the surer we can be of our navigation, but what we have should be enough,” Jelly said.
“Set a course for planet… what shall we call it?” I asked.
“I have it designated on my work terminal as the fuel source,” Tom said, barely looking up from what he was doing.
“That works,” I said. “Let’s go to the fuel planet. Jelly, please calculate a course around the nebula.”
“I’m working on it now,” Jelly advised. “I made some rough calculations on our chance of moving through that nebula but decided the odds are distinctly negative. It is massive. Even if we could detect slip tunnels while inside of it, there are just too many unknown variables. I can’t scan much through the dust cloud due to the ionization.”
“Agreed. I’d rather jump through a dozen slip tunnels than try to take a shortcut through that mess,” I said, marveling at the view on the holo display. It was mostly a computer-generated image based on what Jelly thought the nebula looked like up close, but it was amazing nonetheless. “Nothing can be easy,” I muttered.
“Of course not,” Jelly said. “All of my previous captains have shared this sentiment.”
“X, have our sensors broadcast any information indicating the Union carriers followed us through the last tunnel?” I asked.
“All seems to be quiet. I will alert you the moment the relays report anything useful,” X-37 promised.
I looked at Elise and Tom. “We need to get some rest, but from here on out, someone has to man the bridge at all times.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Elise said, standing and stretching. “I nominate you to go first.”
Tom seemed embarrassed by her snarky attitude. “I can take the first shift. It’s not a big deal.”
“Get some sleep, Tom. I’m trained to go for long periods of time without rest and I have X-37 to give me an adrenaline boost if I start to nod off,” I said in a tone that was firm but not too authoritative. That was what Tom responded to best.
“Okay, you’re right,” he agreed.
Tom and Elise disappeared to their separate cabins.
“Jelly, can you see if Henshaw and Path are getting enough rest and recuperation?” I asked.
“Lady advises me that they are taking appropriate care of themselves,” Jelly said after a moment. “Henshaw has swallowed two sleeping pills. Path is meditating in the den with a view of star fields all around him.”
“Good to know,” I said, still adapting to being responsible for more than just myself.
“Would you like to review the music selection for your shift on the bridge?” Jelly asked.
“I feel like reading,” I said, surprised at the compulsion after so much mental effort working on the various navigation problems we’d been faced with. “X, can you pull up everything you have on Nebs? His early career, at least, should be public record and that should have been downloaded the last time the Jellybird was in Union space.”
“Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Would you like me to read it to you?”
“Work on the Bold Freedom problem with Jelly,” I said as I opened the first of many documents concerning the early career of Vice Admiral Nebs.
The introductory synopsis told me a lot. The man had performed well but not brilliantly, scoring high in his class at one of the Union’s mid-level academies but not at the top. He performed well in his assignments and earned several commendatory performance reports and a few medals.
By the time he was the captain of his own ship, things became interesting. He was almost court-martialed twice for “budgetary over-reach” and had been missing in action with one of the ships for several years. When he returned, a thorough investigation of the mission convinced powerful people that Nebs had performed extraordinarily under pressure and had been able to hold together his crew even in the worst circumstances. Not only had he gone out on an impossible mission, but he came back with new technology and brought home most of his crew alive.
I settled into the captain’s chair to read on. What I expected was an abrupt end to his official career, probably some sort of honorable discharge and a footnote about how he became a farmer someplace and retired from public life.
That was the sort of thing that happened when a person left the regular service to enter dark ops.
“Jelly, I changed my mind. Can you play something orchestral? A big holo movie score maybe?”
“At once, Captain,” Jelly said, then filled the bridge with sound.
* * *
With the Jellybird making her best speed toward our objective, I left Tom at the helm and headed for the galley. The two-a-day physical training sessions with Elise had sent my appetite into overdrive. I was ready to eat my own hand if I didn’t wolf down some calories soon.
And I needed coffee.
My earbud beeped.
“Hal, this is Tom. Jelly is working on a new development.”
“I just left the bridge,” I said. “Can it wait until after breakfast? Jelly is obviously still working on whatever it is, or she would have called me herself.”
“There may be technology on the planet the Bold Freedom was heading toward,” Tom said.
“What kind of technology?” I asked.
“Radio signals,” Tom answered.
“Is someone sending a message, maybe another distress call?” I asked, wondering if the BF had already set up some sort of colony there. “Or could it be some kind of survey marker?”
“She says it’s faint and does not have a decryption key worked out. It’s a series of tones and pauses,” Tom said.
I thought about it for a second, then answered, “I’ll get back to the bridge after breakfast.”
“Probably a good decision,” Tom said. “Jelly or I will keep you updated on any changes.”
Elise was halfway through her breakfast when I entered the galley. She watched intently as I loaded my plate with reconstituted scrambled eggs, imitation bacon, and something orange to drink. I glanced at her once or twice, confirming she had neither stopped eating nor looked away.
I joined her at the small table. “Is this seat taken?”
She motioned toward it with a fork then took another bite.
“Somebody’s hungry,” I said as I sat down and dug into the food like a ravenous animal.
“I’m still growing. What’s your excuse?” she asked, looking at the mounds of food I had gathered.
“Jelly may be picking up a signal from the mystery planet,” I said, ignoring the jab. “If there’s a colony or military base there, this could get complicated.”
“There’s no way the Union has another secret base this far out,” she said.
“Agreed.” I dug into my food like I’d never eaten before.
Elise finished her meal and then started cracking jokes, trying to make me laugh hard enough to choke. She nearly got me once when my mouth was full of orange juice, but I managed not to spray it across the room.
I cleaned up my meal and checked in with Tom and Jelly. “What’s the news?”
“The signal stopped,” Tom advised. “My working theory is that there is, or was, some sort of colony that is trying to communicate with a long-range satellite. Whoever it is, the technology is too primitive to be Union made.”
I didn’t speak, and neither did Elise. We looked at each other. The implications of this news were hard to unpack.
“Are you telling me we’re about to make alien contact?” I asked.
“Unlikely,” Tom said. “Jelly hasn’t unraveled the code completely but says it has humanistic qualities.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“It’s like she recognizes a language she can’t understand yet. I doubt you speak Rugornian, but would you recognize it if someone was coughing it out? That is what I’m saying,” Tom explained. “With enough exposure, she should acquire a sufficient vocabulary to respond to whoever sent it, or what sent it, rather. It’s probably a beacon or a primitive relay like ones we have left at slip tunnel openings to spy on Union ships.”
“Make sure she contacts me before she initiates any communications with the source of the signal,” I said.
Several moments passed after the conversation was over. Elise could barely sit still. “Now we have to go to this planet. There could be people there!”
“There aren’t going to be any people,” I said, heading for the door and waving her to follow.
“There could be,” she argued, letting a long pause break her thought. “I’m tired of training.”
“You said you would never get tired of training.” In truth, I was bored with the constant repetitions it took to achieve mastery of any skill.
“Fine,” Elise said. “I’ll clear my calendar.”
Normally, at this point in such a conversation, we would be heading for the gym and the range. I stayed where I was, longingly looking at my plate like it might produce more food.
“What are you thinking about, Reaper? Can’t remember where the gym is?” Elise asked.
I thought about what we needed. “What’s a skill we haven’t trained that might save your life?”
Elise leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling as she pondered the question. “I’m not very good at brain surgery.”
Snorting a laugh, I stood up and waved her toward the door. “That’s an excellent observation. Let’s work on some battlefield first aid. Jelly, power up the infirmary.”
“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.