Second Impressions
“On a day like today especially, eventually you’ve gotta trust somebody.”
(Part 2 of the “Cypher Sigma” series)
It was a tense forty-minute jump out of Alpha-Richard. Lieutenant Shad Pozzer remained strapped in beside Denver Gennaro, the private currier ship’s captain. For Shad, the angst stemmed from a deep concern over the offensive the Trasp had successfully waged against Alpha-Richard. If they hadn’t already taken the system outright, they’d certainly turned what had been a stable system into a dangerous and chaotic place. And for Shad and his new junior officer Ellis Ames, personally, the disappearance of their ship—the Byard—indicated that the LSS was in turmoil. Either their ship had been totally destroyed in the mooring field or the command decision had been made—to flee Richard, to retreat and reassess, which meant that not only had the civilians at Richard been caught off guard, but also the LSS command structure. Shad and Ellis didn’t know much more than that. And adding to the stress of that uncertainty, was the uncertainty he still had about Denver and Kilty. These two sisters and their android were hiding something. That was certain. But it was also true that they’d gotten them out of Richard safely, at least for the moment it seemed.
Denver and Shad sat in silence up on the flight deck. Apart from a brief explanation about the statistical soundness of their initial escape jump from the sisters’ Andrew, very few words were exchanged. Kilty explained the situation to Ellis Ames at the table in the midship.
“It’s a short initial jump out of the dangerous area with a secondary trip pre-plotted. The Trasp might have situated ships in the common lanes out of Richard. Our course drops us to the middle of open space. If it’s clear there, we can sit and make an assessment. If not, we jump again right away.”
“I get it,” Ellis replied. “Shad and I are lunar rangers, you know.”
His tone was sharp, a contrast to the warmth Kilty had been accustomed to hearing from Ellis in the preceding days.
“Oh. I guess I wanted to make sure you knew. That wouldn’t be obvious to most people.”
“It’s obvious to us.”
“I think ...” Kilty looked over at Ellis and noticed the sour look that seemed to come over the young ranger’s face at the sound of her voice. She stopped talking.
“What? You think what?” he asked.
“I was just going to say that I think we’ll find your ship. They probably just jumped out as a precaution.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Well, nothing really. That’s why I didn’t finish saying it. I hope it’s true, Ellis. I want it to be true. I want everything to be all right.”
He looked back over at her with disdain. “It’s obviously not all right, Kilty.”
“I’m sorry. I just want you to know we’re going to try to get you back to your unit.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Okay,” Kilty replied, confident that she and Denver would come through on that promise. She’d have loved to try to talk through the tension, but she also knew why Denver had done what she’d done, and she also knew why she wasn’t letting the two rangers in on the secret. They’d be off their ship soon enough, and Ellis Ames and Shad Pozzer would be a memory the sisters would talk about years from then—the two LSS rangers they’d bumped into in a bar in Alpha-Richard. That time they’d met the Gamma Griffin Rangers and been mistaken for spies while picking up a quarantined Athosian cat. She was certain it would be a funny story at some point in the future. But she’d liked Ames, and in the moment, it was sad. It felt sad to her that a funny story would be all that would come of Ellis Ames in her life. It had seemed like he might become so much more.
When they finally dropped out, Shad and Denver were immediately relieved to find open space surrounding them in the interstellar void between Alpha-Richard and the three largely-vacant nearby systems. Kilty scanned her navigation panel to her right, and her eyes told her quickly what Andrew confirmed.
“Negative contacts, Captain Gennaro. We are clear for now.”
“Well done, Andrew. Thanks.” Denver turned to Shad as she unclipped from the captain’s seat. “Shall we?” She gestured toward the midship. A decision needed to be made about the rangers.
Denver led the way to the table where Kilty and Ellis were still strapped in. Andrew followed behind them, floating down the short forward corridor as Denver and Shad pulled themselves down to the lunch table in the midship.
“Lieutenant?” Ellis said in a harsh, almost scornful tone.
“We have an understanding, Ames,” Shad replied.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s simple enough. They give us a ride back to our unit and we forget about anything that might’ve happened getting us there.”
“That’s one idea.”
“Considering we could’ve just as easily left you two on Derin-13 for the Trasp to sort out, I’d say that’s a pretty decent deal,” Kilty said. “You don’t have to like us or even be grateful, Ellis. But the attitude is a bit much.”
“No. You’re right. Getting stabbed in the back by you two has been so much fun. A privilege really.”
“Ames. Just shut up, will you? That’s an order.”
Ellis glared at Shad and then shook his head.
“As I told Shad back at the mooring field, we’re going to get you two home to your unit,” Denver stated. “We needed to get clear of the shooting first, and now that it’s safe to do so, I’d like to figure out the fastest and safest way.”
“The fastest way is not going to be the safest,” Shad replied. “The Byard will be at our secondary drop coordinates if she’s still out there anywhere. Off the top of my head, that’d be about a three-hour jump if I’ve got our current position roughly correct. If we approach at a distance and ping them with the correct clearance codes, they’ll allow us to approach.”
“Doubtless, they’ll be a bit jumpy right now,” Denver said.
“It should be fine,” Shad answered. “Especially since you’re obviously a civilian vessel. They’ll be suspicious, but as long as we don’t approach without permission, they won’t fire on a Letters trade ship. It’ll be fine.”
“Sounds reassuring,” Kilty added. “Probably nothing at all will go wrong, just like everything else since we met you boys.”
“That’s the fast route,” Denver said, ignoring her sister’s commentary. “What about the safest route?”
“Presuming the strike on Alpha-Richard is an isolated incursion,” Shad suggested, “you could drop us at any LSS base in the vicinity.”
Ellis Ames turned his head toward the back of the ship as though something had caught his attention. Kilty looked over at him inquisitively.
“You hear that?”
Kilty shook her head.
“I swear I heard something.”
“It is the feline cargo,” the Andrew answered. “Vocalizing so as to catch our attention.”
Denver shook her head. “The damn cat.”
“There were very specific instructions,” Kilty replied.
“Can we figure this out first, K?”
“Well, what post is nearest, Shad?” Kilty asked.
“Kappa-Knolles would be the nearest inner LSS post with a Gamma unit stationed there. Ben or Beta-Aurelius both have significant LSS bases. They could get us back to the GG’s eventually, but it’d be my preference to try and meet up with the Byard. The sooner we get back to our ship, the sooner we can join the fight. And if we’re going to do it, we should do it fast. They won’t stay at the drop point long. They’ll regroup and likely head back into Richard to counter the Trasp offensive.”
“That’s if they’re there at all,” Ellis said, shaking his head. “And half the crew was off ship. We were spread all over the system, Lieutenant.”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there, Ames.”
They all heard a noise from the rear cargo room.
“We’re not supposed to leave him in the crate once we’re into open space, Denver,” Kilty said. “The instructions were very clear.”
“What did they say about a Trasp incursion, K?” Denver replied, shaking her head. “The cat can wait.”
Denver looked over her shoulder toward their Andrew. “Kappa-Knolles? What’s the flight time from here?”
“Thirty-one hours, Captain.”
“And in the worst damn direction possible to get that cat to Athos.”
“Correct. It would add roughly six days total flight time to a round-trip voyage to Shalinor-Zair, presuming an average lane assignment from the Athosian approach command.”
“It’ll be three hours tops to the Byard,” Shad said.
“They better be there,” Kilty replied. “Kappa- Knolles? Or a day and a half to Beta-Aurelius? I say we start charging them the same rate as the cat if we don’t find the Byard.”
“Funny,” Ellis replied.
“Who says I’m joking.”
“All right, Kilty. Any objection?”
“To going for the Byard?”
“Right,” Denver said.
“What’s the potential risk?”
“Minimal,” Shad answered. “We pick our drop points to be obscure like this one for the same reasons. Plus, we’ll approach from a safe distance, visualize, and go from there.”
“Fine,” Kilty replied. “Like Shad said, the sooner we can get them to their unit, the sooner they can get in the fight. And then we can get to Athos and get paid.”
“Agreed,” Denver stated. “Go check on the cat while Shad and I get strapped in, Kilty. Then we’ll get underway again.”
As Shad and Denver unstrapped and turned toward the flight deck, Kilty noticed a long look exchanged between the younger ranger and his commanding officer. Shad glared back at Ellis, but neither of them said a word. She gestured toward the back of the ship, as though to invite Ellis to check on the cat with her. He just shook his head angrily. Kilty shrugged, unbuckled, and headed to the cargo closet to see about their fussy little cargo.
By the time Kilty returned to the lunch table at the midship and strapped herself in across from Ellis, he already had his glasses and earset on—the sure sign of a traveler who wanted little to do with a conversation. Kilty didn’t know if she’d be able to break through that wall he’d suddenly put up in the remaining hours they had together, but it bothered her—the thought of parting with him on those ugly terms. Kilty didn’t even fully understand what had happened between Denver and Shad while she and Ellis had picked up the cat—narrowly escaping the Derin-13 cylinder together in the process. When she and Ellis had returned, Shad was locked in Cargo 3. Whether he’d gone willingly or not, she didn’t know for sure. But it seemed those two had at least found some common ground again. Why Ellis was the salty one of the bunch she couldn’t figure. Nor could she get to the bottom of it while he sat their pouting with his headset on. She debated tugging on his arm and forcing him to confront her with the issue directly. Ultimately, she figured there was a chance it could go bad, so she opted to do the same as Ellis and zone out on her headset until they arrived at the rangers’ ship. That way if their conversation turned ugly, she could let him know what she thought of his attitude before sending him on his way for good. No need to sit with it for hours. If the conversation went well, they could part on decent terms.
She thought about it for a bit while listening to music. She also reviewed the care instructions for Santos, both from his owner and the notes from the customs house on Derin-13. The cat had come with accessories. He was supposed to wear his flight gear outside the carrier, and it was vague, but the instructions from the cat’s owner, Conrad Hostet, seemed to suggest that Santos could understand spoken language a little. But Kilty couldn’t quite tell whether that was normal for a cat or not. She’d learned from comics that dogs could understand a few words and commands. Cats, though? She didn’t know that much about them. He was a good-looking animal, though. She liked him already, and they hadn’t even taken him out of the carrier yet.
She must have fallen asleep along the way. Kilty woke again to a tug on her wrist. It was Ellis waking her.
“It’s about a fifteen-minute lag, and the Byard isn’t answering,” he informed her.
Kilty took off her headset. She turned toward the floatscreen by the side wall. She didn’t see the Byard on it. Just a blank screen with a few stars in the background.
“Did we get a visual?”
Ellis shook his head.
“Could be they’re jumpy, trying to run dark. I imagine an LSS ship could make themselves scarce if they wanted to.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Ellis replied. “Could be they’re not there either.”
“We’re going to jump in closer,” Denver announced over ship’s audio. “Shad thinks they could be tough to spot from out here. It’s a pretty dim stretch of nothing out here. Everyone still strapped in?”
“Go ahead,” Kilty declared. “We’re good.”
Kilty felt the ship jump. She looked over at Ellis.
“I wanted to ask you, Ames, before you and Shad go ... I don’t know, I know you’re upset, but I guess I don’t know why. We tried to help you two with that Trasp agent, and then you accused us, and here we are bringing you back to your unit and you’re still mad at us?”
“I’d rather not say, Kilty.”
“Why not? Denver and I never meant anything bad by you two.”
“It’s fine. We’ll be off your ship just as soon as we catch up with the Byard, hopefully momentarily.”
“Yeah, but, why are you so sour on me, Ames? I thought we did pretty good back there, escaping together. I thought you liked me too.”
“Some things are better unsaid, Kilty.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Would you leave it alone, please? Gawd.”
“All we wanted to do was pick up the cat and give you two a ride.”
“I guess you’re not gonna leave it. But that’s fine. I’ve got nothing to say.”
She shook her head at him. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“I’m getting there,” Ellis replied, glaring at her.
Kilty smiled back at him. “Okay.”
He couldn’t help but grin at her. Ellis started laughing, doing his best to suppress it.
“I didn’t want you to go without telling you I think you’re all right, Ames,” Kilty said.
He looked back at her. He didn’t reply. Kilty grinned and caught his eyes with hers.
As they were transiting that short jump toward the coordinates Shad had given Denver for the Byard, Andrew projected a search grid based on the look they’d had at that area from a distance. The analysis he returned displayed an anomaly on the floatscreen. The visual was blurry, but it could’ve been a ship. It was tough to say from that quick look at such a distance, but it signaled to the both of them that they’d know pretty quickly once they jumped out whether the Byard was there lying low, hiding in the darkness.
It took a moment for the first fuzzy image to resolve.
“I’m not sure,” Ellis stated, staring at the floatscreen intently. “I can’t tell if it’s the Byard.”
“Would there be any other ship out here?” Kilty asked.
The black hull was cracked open with half the aft section of the ship blown off. A cloud of debris surrounded the ship at the tail end.
Ellis shook his head. “It has to be.”
“I’m sorry, Ames,” Kilty said.
“It’s tough to see,” Ellis replied, as his face turned toward the front of the ship. “Shad has been on the Byard for over a year. I feel bad for him.”
“How many people ...?”
“It’s thirty-six on the Byard’s crew. The fleet guys. A lot of us were on leave, but our unit had forty-eight guys in it. The B-K rangers were also on board. Same number. I don’t know, but there were probably a hundred total people on board.”
Kilty tipped her head toward the front of the ship. Ellis nodded. This was too important to allow themselves to be relegated out of the conversation. They unbuckled and floated up to the deck—Kilty, followed by Ames.
Kilty arrived as Denver, Shad, and Andrew were discussing the sensor readings. The thermal readings were inconclusive, but there were enough visible pockets of residual heat for Andrew to estimate the time of the strike—at least a full three hours prior, which, Shad noted, meant that the Byard had bailed from the fight at the Haya shipyard in the earliest stages of the engagement.
“Cut and run,” Denver mumbled under her breath.
Shad looked over at her like he resented that fact being put so bluntly. Denver noticed his reaction
“Sorry,” she said. “That was insensitive. I’m just trying to get an understanding of the situation—talk it through.”
“Those pockets,” Shad replied, “can we get an infrared image with enough resolution to gauge if there might be survivors, Andrew?”
“We’d have to get closer, Lieutenant Pozzer.”
“We’ve got to go over there,” Ellis insisted.
“One thing at a time, ranger,” Shad said.
“Lieutenant, there could be survivors, and the data core, as well as the ship’s surveillance—what happened?”
“I’m aware, ranger,” Shad replied, turning and casting a sharp look back at his junior officer.
Again, Ellis turned his head away, shaking it angrily, but he held his tongue.
“Will you take us in closer, please, Captain Gennaro?” Shad asked. “Some of our colleagues might still be alive over there, and in real trouble.”
“Andrew?” Denver stated.
“Stand by, Captain. This is a dynamic debris field, potentially containing military-grade ordinance. Permission to map it with an active strobe so I can calculate a safe flight plan to an ingress point and accurately assess the risk of approaching.”
“How long?”
“I’d like a minute of observation at five-second intervals.”
“That’s a lot of exposure,” Kilty stated.
“I am watching the shadows, Miss Kilty,” Andrew replied.
“Do it as soon as you have an emergency jump plotted, Andrew.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The first flash of the imaging started immediately, implying Andrew was already one step ahead of them. A few seconds later, the second strobe flashed off the debris surrounding the ship’s hull. There had still been no sign of survivors. What residual EM readings they could detect came from small devices. The reactor had been blown out the back, leaving all the Byard’s mainline systems dead. Still, though, a two- or three-hour window was not that long a time. If anyone had gotten a suit on, there should’ve been plenty of battery to scan for nearby comms, but nothing was singing out.
It occurred to Kilty as she thought about it that it wasn’t so strange that any potential survivors wouldn’t be broadcasting a distress notice. Any such signal would just shout out to the aggressors that they’d missed someone. And it wasn’t as though the sisters’ ship gave any indicators of their intentions. They could have been scavengers, a cleanup crew to finish off any survivors, or, as they proved to be, a well-intentioned civilian ship willing to help rescue their fellow Letters citizens in need.
When the minute-long strobe reading was over, Andrew announced it.
“Assessing. One moment. Standby. Loading flight path. I would be happy to pilot us in, presuming your ingress point will be the breach in the forward hull, Lieutenant Pozzer.”
“I’ll handle it,” Denver stated.
“Please remain within the parameters I’m loading to your navigation screen,” Andrew instructed Denver.
“Lieutenant?” Ellis said, shaking his head at his superior officer as Shad turned to address him.
The conversation implied by these exchanged glances progressed so fast, Kilty didn’t quite know what was going on.
“Not on your life,” Denver stated—the first spoken word of the ongoing debate.
“We can’t both go,” Ellis insisted.
“I wasn’t planning on it, Ames,” Shad replied.
“Wait?” Kilty stated. “What are you saying?”
“I presume you have gear that’ll fit me at least?” Shad asked Denver.
“Ellis is going in the closet if he doesn’t go over with you,” Denver insisted to Shad as she nodded.
“It is not advisable for either ranger to enter the wreck alone,” Andrew added.
“What about him?” Shad said, gesturing toward the Andrew with his head.
“Well, then Ames is definitely going in the closet.” Denver answered, and as she did, she nodded, presumably with respect to the space suit, indicating that the sisters had gear that would fit Shad.
“Lieutenant, no way,” Ellis replied. “I’m not going in no closet, not with you out on a walk. What’s to stop them from taking off the second you go in there regardless?”
“They don’t have to be here, Ames, and every second we spend here arguing the matter is a second anyone who could be alive over there has to wait for us to shut up and get on with a rescue.”
“I don’t understand. Are you implying Denver and I would leave you in that wreck, Ellis?” Kilty asked him. “You still don’t trust us?”
“Not by a long shot, I don’t,” Ellis replied. “And neither does Shad, if he were being honest.”
“Andrew,” Denver said, “you’ll accompany Lieutenant Pozzer to search the ship for survivors. Kilty and I will coordinate the walk from here. And, yes, Ellis, you’re going in the closet.”
“The hell I am,” he replied.
“Here,” Kilty said, handing Ellis her headset. “At least you can watch the whole thing.”
“I can’t believe you, Pozzer,” Ellis grumbled. “Three hours ago you thought they were spies. Now the Byard is in pieces and you’re going over there to scavenge our ship with their housebot? This is insane. They’ll have our necks!”
“Who will, Ames? The captain? The LC? Major Vonn? I’ll let you know if I find their bodies while I’m over there,” Shad glared at his junior officer. “On a day like today especially, eventually you’ve gotta trust somebody. If they backstab us at this point, what’s the difference? Now just go with Kilty, please.”
Ames shook his head.
“I’m going to stay with Ellis,” Kilty said to Denver.
“That’s a fine sentiment, Kilty, but I need you to suit up just in case we need a third for some reason.”
“Why don’t I just go then?”
“You’re not going in that ship.”
“But, Denver—”
“Listen to your sister,” Shad said. “The interior of that vessel is a maze of dangers right now, Kilty. If you don’t know the ship and what to look for, you could end up dead in a heartbeat.” He turned back toward Denver. “Do not send her in under any circumstances.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Denver replied.
Kilty shook her head, confused by the layers of distrust and the resultant reasoning behind all that bickering, but she escorted Ellis to Cargo 3 and latched the door behind him. Then she floated back up front to join her sister on the flight deck while Shad and Andrew suited up just inside the rear airlock.
The suit for Kilty was just a precaution. The only circumstance she was leaving the ship, Denver told her, was if they needed a third set of hands getting an injured party inside their airlock, or, she added, if they needed someone to send over gear in a pinch. Kilty joined her sister on the deck, zipped into her suit, her helmet still stored on its clasp outside the airlock. She tapped the dash to pull up a floatscreen in front of her and mirrored it to her eyewear.
“You on, Ellis?”
“I hear you,” the young ranger grumbled from the closet.
“They’re just at the outer hull,” Kilty reported.
“I can see good enough,” he replied. “I have eyes and ears.”
“That’s gratitude,” Kilty mumbled to her sister. “Isn’t this one fine mess?”
“We couldn’t just leave,” Denver replied. “There could be survivors over there, K.”
“I get it. But tell me it doesn’t feel like we’re getting dragged into something further and further with every choice we make.”
“How about we have this conversation after.”
“Sure. I’m certain this’ll be the last of it.”
“Just ... watch the screen, K.”
Kilty shrugged.
She did sit and watch as Shad made his way into the massive breach that ran nearly halfway down the port side of the ship, all the way from the Byard’s bridge through the midships and even further back. Kilty’s screen went from light to darkness as Shad entered the ship’s interior. Then as the camera adjusted, Shad’s lights flicked on. The deadly hazards Shad had promised didn’t seem apparent to Kilty as she observed. There were no sparks, no clouds of venting gas, no explosions or live wires. What she did see were plenty of jagged edges, and, sadly, a number of deceased LSS fleet personnel were floating in the tangled spaces. Kilty could hardly make out rooms, stations, or corridors, just dark shadows and flashes of indiscernible debris reflecting the light from Shad and Andrew’s helmet lamps. The dark specks, she realized after a moment, were blood that had frozen in the cold of space.
Shad had a hammer, and as he neared solid bulkhead walls and hatches, he would slam it down hard. Bang-bang-bang-bang ... bang-bang.
“What’s he doing?” Kilty asked. “Checking for stability?”
“It’s a melody,” Ellis answered her from the closet. “Count the syllables. ‘G-G, Rangers’ is the call ... the response is ‘G-G.’ He’s signaling they’re friendlies, if anyone’s alive over there hiding inside a sealed compartment.”
“I have a few dead spots on the infrared of the starboard side, Captain,” Andrew reported. “Permission to launch drones 1 & 3 to cover the area. I will fly them.”
“At your discretion,” Denver replied.
The trio back on the sisters’ ship heard the clicks from the hull’s outer compartment doors opening and releasing the drones.
Shad alternated between banging on the walls and trying to get a response from each of the access panels he came across. All the systems failed to respond. At a few points, he and Andrew attached a battery to a port to see if they could bring an interface online, each time without success.
Andrew and Shad made their way toward the rear of the ship methodically, clearing compartments as they went. There hadn’t been any response to Shad’s hammering. They’d yet to find a pocket of atmosphere, which, Ellis explained to the sisters meant that the first shot likely knocked out all the power to the ship’s main systems.
“It’s funny, though,” Ellis explained, “emergency closures should operate on battery backup to close bulkhead doors in the event of a hull breach. I haven’t seen one closed door yet.”
“Maybe and EMP?” Denver suggested.
“Those systems are hardened,” Ellis stated. “I don’t know. Seems odd to me.”
Shad continued to bang his way back to the rear of the ship. Kilty could see from his helmet’s video the stars poking their pinpoints of light into the background as Shad progressed. Then, suddenly, he turned a corner and could see a gigantic hole in the center of the ship where the reactor should have been, and behind that cavern, conspicuously absent was the entire engine compartment, the sublights, the bell, the ring drive—everything. The entire back of the ship was hollowed out.
Andrew alerted Shad to several warm spots from the infrared survey from the drones. Shad didn’t seem optimistic, but he confirmed his intention to leave no warm spot unexplored, lest they overlook any potential survivor clinging to life back there.
At the third of the five hotspots, Andrew needed to force open a partially closed sliding door. There was a thermal signature on Shad’s helmet the moment he got his head inside. It was obviously shaped like a human body, and on the visual, it looked in Shad’s bouncing helmet-lamp like someone had managed to get a suit on.
“He has a pulse,” Andrew declared. “He’s hypothermic. Likely unconscious.”
Shad pulled himself through the tight compartment toward the floating occupant of the cabin.
Andrew grabbed Shad by the boot. “Allow me to perform a visual assessment before you attempt to rouse him. It will be easier if you fall back for just a moment, Lieutenant.”
“He’s badly ... exposure. He’s been—”
“One moment,” Andrew replied, it seemed more for the benefit of the sisters back on the ship. “His vital signs are weak but present. He may have gotten the suit on just in time. Standby.”
After a few moments, Andrew came back again. “I am displaying a list of medical equipment to prepare as well as the location in Cargo 1 where all of the implements are located. Please pull that gear and prepare an open space for the patient. Lieutenant Pozzer and I will return with him immediately, and I will attempt to stabilize this survivor.”
“Is he a surgeon?” Ellis Ames asked, referencing the sisters’ Andrew.
“He only has standard medical skills installed,” Kilty answered. “But Andrew will take good care of him until we can get him to a surgery. We’ll do everything we can.”
Kilty got up and headed back to the cargo compartment to start collecting the medical supplies for Andrew. Then she floated back toward the rear airlock, put on her helmet and opened the door, awaiting the party’s return.
Kilty had just put out the grab bar—a rope that sprung out into a solid line when charged. She’d positioned the far end right at the chasm in the forward section of the Byard’s hull. It would make extricating the survivor far easier for Andrew and Shad. She’d got it out none too soon.
“We have a contact,” Denver declared. “Get the hell out of there now Pozzer unless you want to get left behind.”
“Shit,” Shad replied. “There are two more hotspots.”
“My analysis shows likely residual heat from battery overload. Return to the ship, please, Lieutenant. I will extricate your colleague.”
“Inside now, K,” Denver commanded.
“Aye, aye,” Kilty replied, pulling herself back along the rope and into the airlock. “I left the line out for you two.”
“I estimate three minutes,” Denver stated. “How quick can you get back, Andrew?”
“It will be close,” the android declared. “Leave the outer lock open please, Miss Kilty.”
Andrew secured the sole survivor under his left arm while he pulled himself through the Byard’s dark, jagged corridors with his free hand, following Shad, who himself sprung forward at an impressive clip, even for an LSS lunar ranger.
The vast opening at the front of the ship, as much as it cut time crossing the final stretch to open space, meant that there was almost no room for error on that final redirection as they flew back toward the sisters’ ship. Shad either had to hit the hull, grab it, stop his momentum and then redirect to the rope Kilty had put out, or he had to nail that last trajectory and catch the rope itself outright. Otherwise he’d find himself flying out into open space with an unknown vessel bearing down on them. Andrew, of course, would not miss.
“I am loading a visual aid on your visor,” Andrew told Shad. “Be sure to hit that line.”
“I got it,” Shad declared.
A glowing bar appeared on his helmet’s display at a downward angle in the hull opening. It gave Shad a sure target. That thin rope would’ve been barely visible otherwise. On the last pull, Shad redirected himself squarely toward the grab bar. It was a tenuous few seconds as he drifted toward the opening. At first, it seemed like he’d nailed the target dead square, but it was a long gap, and he could feel himself drifting, centimeter by centimeter as he flew toward the opening. He could see it was going to be a hard catch—a single arm.
“Your elbow,” Andrew instructed.
Shad didn’t think he had the length, and he knew he could get a hand on that rope.
“Elbow, Lieutenant,” Andrew insisted.
Shad threw his arm out as far as he could reach, bracing his forearm into an acute angle right at the grab bar, shouting as he caught the rope-thin grab bar in the crook of his elbow, quickly scrambling to get his other arm around and on the wire.
“Ow. Damn that hurt.”
“Well done, Lieutenant,” Andrew stated as he snatched the grab-bar with his free hand.
Shad had pulled himself around and oriented himself toward the ship. He was just about to begin to climb.
“Hold there,” Andrew declared. “And hold tight please.”
The stiff rope went limp and began to retract, pulling the retreating spacewalkers back to the airlock.
“What’s on the clock?” Shad asked.
“Never mind that,” Denver answered. “Call it zero and get your ass back in here, Pozzer.”
Inside the ship, Kilty had already pulled herself to the midship. The door to the cargo compartment opened.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” Ellis said as he saw Kilty floating by the door. “Thanks for remembering. I’m touched.”
Kilty ignored the sarcasm in the moment, pointing to the jump seats at the lunch table. “Let Andrew secure your colleague. You just get yourself strapped in.”
“I got it,” Ellis acknowledged.
As he pulled himself out of that cargo closet, he could distinctly hear the cat crying through the other cargo room’s door. Ellis thought it was strange. If he ignored the stress of the moment, the ship was almost perfectly silent, calm—impossible to tell that any situation was unfolding, never mind a potentially life-or-death race to jump out before a Trasp warship jumped in. That worst-case-scenario was the assumption everyone had been operating under.
Ellis pulled himself down to the lunch table and strapped in. Kilty had gone up to the deck with her sister, leaving space at the table for him, Shad, the survivor, and the Andrew if the bot cared to strap itself in. Ellis figured any magnetic bulkhead would do for that bot in a pinch, though. Ellis strapped himself in and waited, listening. He heard the cat in the background again. Then there were the sounds of a spacesuit clunking off the corridor, getting closer as Shad made his way into the ship, his helmet still on. Ellis turned toward the floatscreen as Shad rushed in and took the seat beside him. The approaching ship hadn’t materialized yet.
The Andrew appeared now in the midship with their suited compatriot. The android’s hand movements in securing the unconscious soldier were perfectly calculated, efficient, and shockingly fast. As Andrew was securing the buckles across the soldier’s limp torso, a large, dark shape suddenly appeared in the center of the floatscreen.
“Andrew?” came a shout from the front of the ship.
“On my signal,” the android shouted back.
Ellis looked over, registered that he heard the buckle click, and watched as the Andrew leaned back toward the floor, almost melting into it as his entire body stuck to the floor panel with an audible “thunk.”
Ellis heard the echo of the Andrew’s voice emanating from the flight deck.
“Secure for flight, Captain. Engage now, please.”
Then, with hardly a second to spare, they were gone.
The quick jump was a similar drop to open space as the Byard itself had plotted to escape the battle in Alpha-Richard—a statistically-random hop to safety so the ship could reassess. In the case of the Gennaro sisters and their growing passenger list, Andrew had kept the jump as short as a “safe” emergency dropout could be. It had to be at least far enough away that their position couldn’t be picked up by the ship they were fleeing in the time it took to plot another genuine escape. That usually would give them a few minutes at minimum before they had to jump again. There were myriad factors to consider playing such a dangerous game, of course, but one such key factor was the reality that the mysterious ship that had jumped in beside the Byard was almost certainly close enough to get a fix on their vector as Denver jumped their ship out. So for safety’s sake, whether they were pursued or not, Denver wasn’t inclined to hang around that drop point for a second longer than necessary.
The Andrew had gotten up off the floor several times over the course of that first jump to monitor the health of the survivor in the suit. The soldier’s face was so badly swollen he wasn’t immediately identifiable to Shad. The name on the spacesuit’s tape read Rossley, but given the level of exposure the soldier had suffered, both Andrew and Shad agreed it was unlikely that he had been wearing his own suit at the time of the strike; rather, they figured he’d been near enough to scramble to the gear hall and don the closest suit and helmet at hand—and barely, at that.
Nevertheless, Andrew declared that the suit was currently the best place for him under the circumstances. He’d flooded the survivor’s air mixture to saturate his blood oxygen levels, which were high enough that Andrew thought the safest plan of action was to delay care until they could plot their next jump and complete their escape. Then, once they were safely underway again, they could begin to move around the ship and render proper care to the survivor. Denver agreed.
“It’s Ben, right?” Denver asked Shad over ship’s audio. “I’m just assuming the best place to take you three is Alpha-Ben.”
“It’s hard to say,” Shad replied over his helmet comms. “Assuming the attack on Alpha-Richard is an isolated incident, I’d say yes. But I’m not sure that’s a safe assumption anymore. I can’t imagine how the Byard got hit at our drop point. Those aren’t fixed coordinates. LSS ships in port rotate drop points at least weekly, so—?”
“Shad, I need a destination, please,” Denver interrupted.
“Beta-Aurelius would be safer.”
“Aurelius it is then,” Denver returned. “Andrew, I’ll need the course plotted as soon as you have it.”
“You’ll have it the moment calculations are complete,” Andrew replied.
Ellis kept looking over at Shad, who still had his helmet on. Ellis couldn’t tell with the lights in the midship reflecting off the helmet’s visor, but as far as he could make it out, the look on Shad’s face seemed to reflect the same type of confusion and indecision his answer to Denver had. Ellis felt the same: nothing about what had happened to the Byard made sense. That quick jump and the moments that preceded it, as Kilty had let him out of the storage room—something had clicked in his thinking about the situation. And it was even bigger than that. The anger and resentment toward the girls—regardless of what sort of scheme he was certain they were up to—those feelings dissipated entirely. Maybe it was the sight of the Byard’s sole survivor, his skin swollen and brutally bloodshot, even through the refracting lens and tint of a space helmet. Maybe it was the time he’d had to reflect. But Ellis Ames started thinking about how random and lucky it was they’d come across the girls. If Shad hadn’t slapped Kilty’s ass at the nightclub that night, they’d almost certainly be dead, frozen in space with the rest of their unit. If they hadn’t bumped into the girls at the beach the following day and had the opportunity to apologize, there’s no chance Ellis would be contemplating how they’d survived in that moment.
“We should’ve been with them, Shad,” Ellis said.
He saw the Lieutenant’s helmet turn toward him and stop, but because of the glare, he couldn’t see Pozzer’s face. He also knew it wasn’t likely Shad would even bother trying to shout through the glass, and Ellis didn’t have his ears in. He also didn’t care. It wasn’t even a conversation really, just an opportunity to talk to his superior without Shad talking back.
“I don’t mean what you think, I’ll bet, Shad. I mean it was lucky. We couldn’t have done anything if we’d been with them. We should be dead right now. That’s what I mean.”
Shad turned his arms up in the only discernible gesture he could make, as though to ask with body language what difference that made.
“We need to do right by them,” Ellis continued. “Our brothers.”
Ellis Ames was quiet for a moment. Pozzer’s helmet hadn’t moved. His gaze was still fixed on his young ranger.
“Dropping out in five,” Denver’s voice announced through the midship. “I’ll have a countdown to our second jump as soon as the nav panel starts calculations. Everyone remain strapped in. Only Andrew is free to move back there. Standby, please.”
“And we need to do right by them,” Ellis said, gesturing with his head toward the flight deck.
The ship dropped out, and once again, as soon as they were settled and floating free, Andrew got up and ran through another visual assessment of the Byard’s sole survivor.
It was well past time when Kilty finally got up to let out Santos. She couldn’t blame the poor creature from getting fussy in that tiny little carrier, stranded and strapped down in a closet with no sense of where he was, where the ship was going, and who the people were taking him there. And to top it off, there’d been nothing but a steady stream of chaos going on around it since Kilty had picked up the cat’s carrier at the customs house on Derin-13.
Santos was making a lot of noise when Kilty opened the door to the cargo closet. She started talking to it, apologizing, asking questions, telling the poor thing everything was okay. It was bizarre and silly, but for some reason, she couldn’t help herself. Was that something other people did—talking to cats—or was she being weird? Kilty wondered about it, but she didn’t stop talking to him.
She’d read the instructions, and the accessories that came with the cat seemed a bit much. The bag itself was big and cumbersome with another case inside it. There was plenty of food in the accessory bag, according to the customs people. There was also a box that she understood to be some sort of specialized cat space toilet, however the hell that worked. She chuckled at the idea of someone designing and fabricating such a thing. And there were a number of other accessories that went inside what the instructions called the “cat closet,” which Kilty understood she only needed to help Santos crawl into. He would do the rest, apparently. All she had to do was set up all these cases, open the door, and occasionally refill the food and water dispensers in Santos’s closet.
She spent a few minutes setting up the two accessory crates while the cat cried out to her in a way that seemed sad to Kilty.
“Poor little thing,” she said a few times as she worked. “We’re going to get you out of there.”
Once she’d finished setting up the two crates, she opened Santos’s carrier. She reached inside slowly, wary of the sharp little teeth that were obvious each time the animal mewed.
“I hope you’ll be nice to me,” Kilty said. “I’m going to be nice to you, little friend.”
She gently undid the straps holding the cat in place within the carrier, and she was surprised by how mellow Santos seemed. This was a new experience for her, she thought, but it occurred to her that the cat was used to traveling this way, even if she was a stranger to Santos.
When the strap was undone, he seemed to pull himself into Kilty’s arms. She was shocked by the softness of his coat—not like hair, she thought. It was richer than the softest, most glorious fabric she’d ever touched. She could feel the cat’s body resonating warmly in her hands, making a noise she’d never heard before.
Kilty did as she was instructed and placed the cat at the door to his toilet, and Santos dutifully crawled inside. Kilty waited for a short time while the cat used its box. She couldn’t help but think that it must be a smart little thing. It seemed to understand what was going on far better than she expected.
When his tiny head emerged, he looked up at her and seemed to shake his head before using his forward legs to pull himself into his accessory crate. Kilty watched as he crawled inside, turned himself around, and steadied himself as the box itself seemed to spring to life, dressing the animal in a waistband that fit around the cat’s torso, as well as a helmet that wrapped around his ears and under his neck. She waited for a moment after the noises within the box stopped. Then she heard a little puff of air whir within the box itself.
Santos came floating out.
“Pretty Mama thanks. Hello. Hello. Pretty Mama. I’m Santos. Hello.”
“Well, hello to you, Santos,” she replied. “It’s good to meet you. I’m Kilty.”
“Let’s go,” he answered.
And before Kilty knew what was happening, the fans on the belt kicked on and Santos had whisked his way toward the door to the cargo room and out into the midship.
“Wait!” Kilty said, reacting too slowly to stop him. “You’re not supposed to go—”
She saw the tail vanish through the door as the sound of the drone fans zipped down the corridor.
The door to Kilty’s cabin, luckily had been shut for the privacy of the unconscious patient within. Andrew and Shad were inside with the soldier. Ellis was seated at the lunch table with his eyewear on. As Kilty entered the midship, Ellis was lifting the frame in reaction to the sound of the cat flying into the room. Ellis’s eyes got wide as Santos stopped in the middle of the room, floating as he saw the young ranger at the lunch table.
“Hello ...” Ellis said. “What are you doing out?”
“I’m Santos,” the cat seemed to respond. “I like to fly. Zoom. Zoom.”
Then the cat turned to see Kilty approaching from behind, fired up the fans again, and zipped forward toward the flight deck.
“No, no, no,” Kilty said. “Not up there, cat.”
“You let it out?” Ellis asked.
“I didn’t mean to, Ames,” Kilty replied. “I was supposed to let him out, and I did everything the instructions said, but he just flew out here.”
“Do you want me to help you grab him?”
“I don’t know what to do. Just ...” Kilty floated by toward the flight deck. “Don’t do anything. I’ll get him.”
When Kilty arrived on the flight deck, Denver and Santos were staring at each other, eyes locked, both seemingly unable to decide what to make of the other.
“Mama Pilot,” the cat said. “Zoom. Zoom. Fly. Space. Love Mama Pilot. I’m Santos.”
“Oh, my God,” Denver said. “Kilty?”
“He flew right past me.”
“Well, get him out of here. He can’t be up here.”
“Santos fly!”
Kilty looked over at the cat and then down toward her sister. “Santos?”
“Are you talking to the cat?” Denver asked.
“Talk. Talk.”
“Yes. Let’s talk, Santos.”
“Pretty Mama. Talk.”
“Will you come with me?”
“There’s no way—”
“Pretty Mama, okay.”
“Let’s go back with Ellis,” Kilty said. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go, okay.”
Kilty slowly turned and pulled herself toward the midship, looking over her shoulder as she went, and unbelievably to her as she floated away from the flight deck, she heard the little fans begin to hum and follow her down the forward corridor back into the midship.
Floris was the name on the Byard survivor’s inner flightsuit. He was a newer lieutenant who’d been transferred onto the Byard several months before the attack. Shad knew him a bit, but he wasn’t with Gamma-Griffin. He was on the other ranger unit out of Beta-Kol. His hands and face had taken the worst of the exposure, at least of the damage that was outwardly apparent. It seemed that he’d struggled to get on the suit, then the helmet, and finally gloves after he’d gotten air flowing to the helmet. He’d been smart enough to titrate the oxygen at a higher level than usual. It likely saved his life, as the drop in atmospheric pressure as he was getting suited had caused fluid to seep into his lungs. Andrew and Shad surmised that he must have been able to hold his breath for much of that exposure time—not completely, though. Similarly, he’d had to use his eyes to get the suit on. He was going to be uncomfortable and need medical support for some time, but Andrew explained that he would likely recover. Whether he would regain his natural sight was another matter. His hands, though were probably a lost cause.
It was difficult to tell when he regained consciousness, as he was moaning quite a bit before he came to. It was only when he tried to turn over and reach out that it became clear he was alert.
“Be still, sir. You are with friends,” Andrew stated as Lieutenant Floris began to flail. “You have been badly injured by exposure.”
Floris stopped reaching out but didn’t speak. Shad reached over and squeezed his arm.
“This is an Andrew rendering care,” Shad announced. “You’re on a civilian ship en route to Beta-Aurelius to get you further medical help. I’m Lieutenant Shad Pozzer, GG Rangers. Do you understand?”
Floris tried to speak, but the first few words were unintelligible, more like a cough or a bark than speech.
“Pozzer?” his gravelly voice finally managed to say. “I. Can’t. See.”
“I can help you with that shortly,” Andrew stated. “Your eyelids are swollen shut. Your corneas are badly damaged as well. Do not try to open them.”
“Boiled,” Floris almost coughed. “Had to open ... my eyes ... barely made it to the suit. How are you alive, Pozzer?”
“I wasn’t on the Byard when it was hit, Floris. I was on my way back to the ship with one of my rangers when Richard was attacked. When we saw the ship wasn’t in Haya shipyard, we jumped to the drop point to see if the Byard made it out. You were the only one left over there.”
“Sung didn’t make it?”
“No one made it, Floris. Sorry.”
“Did you know him?”
“Sung? No. I’m not familiar with the name.”
“He was a flight technician, second-class, fleet mechanic. He saw it happening, pulled me to the gear hall. Good kid. You sure he didn’t ...”
“You were the only one we found over there. The entire engine compartment got blown out the back. The bow got cracked wide open.”
“I think ... I was already out. I don’t remember the back half.”
“What the hell happened, Floris?”
The lieutenant took a long, deep, gravelly breath. “What is this ship you’re on, Pozzer?”
“It’s a currier ship.”
“Out of Richard?”
“Um ... I’m not ... I don’t even know exactly. The Kappas?” Shad looked over at the Andrew, who chose not to fill in a blank Denver herself hadn’t shared yet.
“That’s lucky for you, I guess,” Floris replied.
“It was. Very lucky.” Again, there was another long pause before Shad tried once more. “We’d like to know what happened, Floris, at least as far as you can remember. It’s pretty strange that the Byard would be hit at the drop point.”
“I agree, Pozzer. That’s strange.”
“It’s also strange that there was no sign of debris from any other vessels, like it wasn’t much of a fight out here.”
“Strange that you would pick me up afterward too.”
“I see.”
“Funny, though. I can’t see anymore, Pozzer. There’s a lot of stuff I can’t see.”
“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words.”
“My ears hurt. I have a headache.”
“That is an effect of the rapid decompression, Lieutenant,” Andrew stated. “Perhaps you should rest for now.”
Shad nodded. He squeezed Floris’s arm. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have saved more, but I’m glad we got you out, ranger.”
Floris shook his head almost imperceptibly but clearly had no intention of saying any more. Shad retreated to the midship. It was obvious that the wounded lieutenant knew far more than he was willing to say, but for now, Shad couldn’t think of a way to alleviate his suspicions, and he wondered what had happened aboard the Byard to make one ranger so deeply suspicious of another, especially a rescuer. A lot of strange things were happening. That much was clear.
Lieutenant Shad Pozzer strapped down to the lunch table for long enough to have a tea and process the conversation he’d just finished with Floris. Ellis asked a few questions, mostly about the well-being of their fellow ranger, and he gathered from Shad’s responses that Floris hadn’t been overly forthcoming about what had happened on the Byard. Kilty seemed preoccupied with the cat, which she was holding in her arms like a baby, Shad thought. She was talking to it, smiling and giggling. It didn’t seem right. He didn’t want to snap at the girl, but he couldn’t take it. He’d lost a lot of friends over there that very day. He could only hope that some of his fellow rangers had straggled back to the Byard like he and Ames had.
It was a small ship, and now that Floris was being tended to in the younger sister’s cabin, there wasn’t much of an option for solitude. He opted to float forward to the flight deck, to the older sister. She, he hoped, would at least be able to understand the gravity of the moment.
He was correct. When she looked over and saw him floating in, Denver could read it on his face.
“Please, sit,” she said, inviting him to join her in the co-pilot’s seat.
Shad clipped the lap belt over his legs, sighed, and shut his eyes. Denver didn’t say anything.
“Would you be honest with me if I asked you a question?” Shad said a few moments later.
“It would probably depend on the question,” Denver replied. “That question, for instance, I did answer honestly. If I’d said yes outright, that would’ve been a lie, most likely.”
Shad shook his head. The answer was too cute. He was in no mood for cute.
“Were you listening, Ms. Gennaro?”
She almost answered impulsively by replying “To what?” but she could see by Shad’s face he wasn’t in the mood to play games. After a moment of silence she answered honestly. “Of course I was listening. I heard every word. This is my ship, Pozzer. It’s my responsibility to know what’s happening on it.”
He turned his head toward her. “That’s an honest answer for once.”
“We’ve been honest with you two, mostly,” Denver replied. “You haven’t believed half of what we’ve told you, but we have.”
“Mostly.”
Denver shrugged.
“I suppose you think it’s real ironic,” Shad said, “one of our own not trusting us after giving you two the same kind of grief.”
“We don’t take any pleasure in any of this, Shad, if that’s what you mean. We didn’t go over there, sure, but we watched every second of your feed, and Kilty and I have never seen anything like this day. I’m very sorry for what you must be going through. I can only imagine.”
“What do you imagine, Ms. Gennaro?”
“I’m Denver, Shad. We’ve been through enough together for you to use my name.”
The faintest of smiles appeared at the corner of Shad’s mouth before he turned to face forward again, exhaling audibly as he did.
“I imagine you lost a lot of friends today, and I imagine you’re worried about the rest of your unit,” Denver answered. “I also imagine you and Ellis weren’t the only two of your unit who hadn’t made it back to the ship before it was attacked. So I also imagine you’re worried about who might still be alive and what happened to them. Everything else at Richard too.”
“It’s a lot, Denver,” he said.
“If you don’t mind my saying ...” Denver continued after a pause. “Floris?”
“Yeah?”
“I was trying to imagine his position as you were talking to him, Shad. It might help to see it from his perspective.”
“That’s what I’d like to do. It’d be a lot easier if he told us what happened back there.”
“Yeah, but ... I mean, if I were him, I’d be terrified—waking up on a strange ship, blind, helpless, grieving his lost friends the same way you are, I’m sure.”
“That’s all probably true.”
“And I bet he’s awfully suspicious. Correct me if I’m wrong, Shad, but for the Byard to be destroyed at your drop point like that? It means people in the LSS had to be in on it with the Trasp. Some people at the very least, but judging by what happened at Richard it had to be far more than just a handful of people here and there.”
“That’s all true.”
“So for Floris, I can see why it might be extremely difficult for him to know who to trust.”
Shad looked over at her again. “It’s not easy for anyone right now.”
“Yeah.”
Shad shook his head. “This is the most surreal thing that’s ever happened, Denver. This time last week Ellis and I were on that ship. Everything was working. He and five new rangers had just shipped in, and I’d just wrapped up re-qualification drills on drop prep before we were granted that unexpected leave in Richard. Now look at us.”
Denver reached over and placed a hand on Shad’s forearm. He looked over at her and put his hand on top of hers.
“I guess you saved us,” he said. “You and Kilty.”
“We didn’t know much about it,” she replied, “but I’m glad we did.”
“I’d like to know. If not to me, I hope Floris can tell someone at Beta-Aurelius what happened to the Byard. A lot of families deserve answers.”
Denver turned away and shook her head. “I think it’s possible he’s not going to know, Shad. Or at least ... I doubt he’ll know everything.”
He looked over at Denver. “What do you mean by that?”
“Like Floris was saying, a lot of strange things are happening. You probably didn’t have time to catch it as you were strapping in, but I’ve been running it through the registration and image-recognition databases—that ship, the one that jumped in as we were jumping out …”
Denver pulled up the images on the floatscreen that they’d taken right before she’d jumped away from the Byard.
“Have you ever seen anything like it, Shad?”
He looked up at the screen, examining the images with wide-eyed scrutiny and a look that bordered on disbelief.
“That’s what jumped in?” he asked.
She nodded.
“To the Byard?”
“The pictures don’t lie.”
Denver waited as he continued to examine the images in disbelief. “The ship. Have you ever?”
The sheer size of the vessel was immense, or at least seemed so by the way it was framed. There also seemed to be a thousand different acute angles, a sharpness to each black, flat surface, almost as though that one gigantic ship was a concatenation of a thousand smaller pieces all stuck together by some tight, angular, magnetic forces. It almost didn’t look like it could be a human creation.
“That’s not a Trasp ship,” Shad declared. “It’s certainly not ours. I have no idea what that is.”
“I had a thought as Andrew was enhancing the resolution on that imagery,” Denver replied. “You might think, well, that the ship which destroyed the Byard might have stuck around to see if anyone came to their rescue, maybe pick them off as well. Or maybe, I’ve heard stories about people scavenging off wrecked Trasp or Etteran ships after battles, right?”
“Does that look like a scavenger’s ship to you?” Shad asked Denver.
“No, it does not,” she answered. “And, it also occurred to me that—sorry to say, but I think it’s true—if that thing had attacked your ship, Shad, there wouldn’t have been pieces big enough left over for you to hold in your palm, much less a survivor for us to pick up.”
He shook his head as she said it. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”
“So what the hell have we stumbled onto now, Shad? That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Everything’s changed,” Shad replied, turning to meet eyes with Denver Gennaro. “I’m sorry we sucked you and Kilty into this mess, but at the same time, I’m not sorry we met you. And I’m glad to be here with you, Denver. I wish it was all different.”
“We have some time till Beta-Aurelius still. Hopefully things will have settled down by the time we get there.”
Shad nodded, and as he did, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and in his peripheral vision, he saw Denver turn at the same moment to see the head of the cat come floating up between them silently, almost as though Santos was taking some delight in sneaking up between them undetected.
“Mama Pilot. Hello. Fly. Fly. I like space.”
There was something about the animal’s sudden appearance, so out of place, so bizarre, on such a strange and awful day. The hunter’s instinct, irrepressible, and somehow, gliding in with it, unknowingly, was a precious hint of levity to lighten the weight of the moment.
“This one,” Denver stated, grinning over at Shad. “This sneaky little guy is beginning to grow on me.”