Infinity's End: Books 4-6, page 51
“Load the second wave of shuttles,” she said. “We’re going in after them. With any luck they’ve already landed and are waiting for us. But we can’t stay up here theorizing about it for another five days. Sesster and Zenfor need the air we’re about to leave behind so we need to proceed with the plan. If anyone else has a better suggestion, I’m listening.” It took all her willpower to keep her thrumming heart from bursting through her ribs. She wasn’t ready to face the possibility of what might have happened, and she was willing to stake her life on it if that’s what it meant.
“You can’t be serious,” Volf replied. “What if something in the atmosphere tore those ships to pieces? We can’t go in there not knowing what we’re facing.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Evie replied. “Sometimes you don’t get to see the rules before you start playing, you have to just jump in and go with what you have.”
“You’re talking about faith,” Zaal replied.
She nodded. “I guess I am.” She turned her attention back on Volf. A few days prior the engineer had shaved off her pink mohawk as she couldn’t keep it the way she wanted it with their supplies so low.
“If I can’t do it right, I don’t want to do it,” she’d told Evie when she asked.
Looking at her now, Evie detected a confidence within her she wasn’t sure she’d have if she’d been forced to shave her own head. It was in the way she held herself; like nothing fazed her. “You’ll be in command of wave three,” she said. Volf looked surprised at the announcement.
“You want me in charge?” she asked.
“You can coordinate with the remaining maintenance teams until it is time to leave. You’ve got plenty of experience and I know you’ll do what is right for the good of the ship. Cas and I will be busy establishing our temporary colony on the surface, as it’s going to take both of us to coordinate all that needs to be done. Can I count on you?”
Volf straightened her back, as if coming to attention. “Yes, ma’am, of course. It’s just…I didn’t expect you to choose me.”
“You’re a qualified officer,” Evie replied. “And I know you’ll do a good job. As for everyone else, I want you to begin evacuation procedures. Wave two will be leaving in one hour.”
There was a scuttle of activity. They hadn’t finished loading all the shuttles yet, and most of the crew that was due to go down with two probably wasn’t ready, but Evie’d had enough waiting around. Barring some kind of miracle they were out of options, so they might as well get on with it. And if wave one ran into trouble on their way down, she wanted to know about it as soon as possible. She turned to Cas to ask him if he had anything to add, only to find he was no longer at his post. She didn’t see him anywhere else in Engineering either.
At some point he’d slipped out and she hadn’t even noticed.
Cas trudged down the corridor, doing his best to keep his emotions off his face as he passed members of the crew. A general alert announcement blared all over the ship informing everyone the timetable for wave two had been moved up and for everyone to be in their designated areas within the hour. Normally he would have headed straight for Bay One and continued the process of loading all the equipment and supplies on the second set of shuttles. But all the fight had gone out of him and he hadn’t wanted anyone to see.
He dared not consider the possibility wave one was lost; he knew he would lose himself somewhere in the recesses of his mind and would never resurface. Because not only would it mean the loss of his oldest and best friend, but with so many of the crew lost, the ship wouldn’t be able to function. Dragon class ships required an absolute minimum of ninety to operate within regulations and with a third of the crew on the first wave of shuttles that already put them below the primary requirements to operate the ship safely. Which meant even if Sesster and Zenfor managed to get everything fixed, they were still dead in the water. There seemed to be no end to their string of bad luck, and Cas wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Dealing with the Sargans daily had been a dream compared to this.
He nodded at a group of crewmen trotting down the hallway beside him, packs on their backs and equipment in their hands as they headed toward the bays. They returned the gesture with even a few of them addressing him by “commander” or “sir”, neither of which he’d become accustomed to. Maybe Rafnkell was right, what was he doing here, playing a part on some grand theater? The thought almost made him laugh out loud. After all, he’d always wanted to be an actor, and now he’d finally landed the role of a lifetime: lieutenant commander of a starship on which he had no business.
No! He couldn’t afford to think like that again. He was dropping into the dark places of his mind faster than he’d anticipated. His feet moved faster. There was relief from all this, and he was determined to get it. If he could just block all of it out, he could function well enough to get through the next few days, weeks or whatever it took.
Look at you, headed back to the well. Just can’t help yourself.
Cas shook the thoughts away and almost turned around, despite himself. But the voice wasn’t wrong, and he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. It always came back to the same thing in the end.
It always came back down to quenching the thirst.
Chapter Seven
Zenfor stood from her terminal, having finished all the calculations necessary to begin shutdown procedures on the ship. For the first time since she’d come aboard Tempest she could describe herself as excited. Not ecstatic, or elated, but perhaps anticipating with a small amount of glee. All the lifeforms on the ship were evacuating, leaving only her and Sesster with some sweet silence for once. Being on this ship was like being within the middle of a courant’s nest, always a constant buzzing. Sometimes all the activity faded into the background and became noise and other times it grated on her nerves, causing her to lose her temper at times when it wasn’t necessary. But four weeks of nothing but silence—or very close to was cause for elation. If only a small amount.
I would dare to say you’re in a good mood. Sesster’s thoughts flowed into her mind like a stream through a riverbed. It had been jarring the first time, but she found she’d become more accustomed to it and even missed it when he didn’t speak to her.
I look forward to some time alone.
We are always alone, or we can be when we travel to the mind-place.
Yes, but it isn’t the same. Sesster’s ability to bring them both into a shared state of consciousness was nothing short of remarkable, but at the same time it had its limits. They could spend only a few minutes within, and hours could pass in the real world, which she didn’t care for. She’d always been cognizant of time, aware of its constant presence and in the mind-place time seemed to lose meaning. While there, all of her senses were activated and working, but a part of her that knew it wasn’t as real as the world she occupied the rest of the time. It was like a dream in many ways, real as it could be while they were there, but afterward she was left with a sense of longing and loss for something she couldn’t quite grasp. Her only solution seemed to be to either stay in the mind-place forever or never return. Regardless, she didn’t like either option.
I understand your concerns, and I apologize if it isn’t the experience you want it to be.
That isn’t what I think. Perhaps I am too greedy, perhaps I want too much.
There was the feeling of joy and laughter which rippled through her, though it hadn’t come from her. That’s what the humans say. Zenfor suppressed a retort because she wasn’t sure if she should take that as an insult or a compliment. Not to mention she had other matters to attend to. Leave me be, I must work. We will speak later.
I anticipate it. With glee.
She shook her head. Finding a kindred spirit on a Coalition starship had been the last thing on her mind when she boarded, but here he was and for the first time in her life she felt as if she could be honest with someone without needing to filter her words through a Sil sieve. And she knew he felt the same way. It was as if this was what she had been destined to do, despite the fact she didn’t believe in such foolish notions.
“Consul, what are you doing?” Zenfor turned to see the captain standing before her, her hands on her hips as if she were interrogating one of her junior officers.
“I have begun the shutdown procedures for non-essential areas of the ship,” Zenfor replied. It was the first in a long series of steps she’d devised to begin the repair work to the ship. They had to limit the power drain and there was no reason not to start while the second wave of ships was still preparing to leave. It wasn’t as if anyone would run out of life support before they boarded the shuttles.
“I didn’t give that order yet,” Diazal replied.
“Given the severity of the situation, I thought taking immediate action would be prudent. It shouldn’t impact the evacuation procedures.” She was surprised the captain was questioning her on this. These procedures were all Zenfor had been working on for the past two days. Shutting down a Dragon class ship wasn’t like flipping a switch or turning a dial. There were a complex set of steps needed to make sure not only the computer cores were protected, but also the ignition systems and power transfer conduits weren’t damaged. The ship wasn’t designed to be shut down, it was supposed to operate continuously and even though it was antiquated by Zenfor’s standards, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t follow the proper procedure to ensure they could start everything back up again.
“I want to make something clear; you do not have full autonomy here. While Cas and I are gone, you are working under the supervision of Commander Sesster. And while I don’t care about your personal life, I do expect you to follow the chain of command while you are on this ship. Whether I’m here or not.”
Zenfor rose up to her full height. Almost a full meter taller than Diazal. “Captain. Nothing has changed. I am still a Sil on a Coalition vessel. And I am still committed to working with you. If this ship cannot return me to Sil space, then I will be stranded out here, forever. Do not think anything I do is not in the best interests of you and your crew, because our interests are aligned. But if you wish to continue to question my loyalty, then continue and find out how far my patience goes.”
Diazal didn’t flinch. Zenfor found additional respect for the woman, despite the fact she was challenging her. Humans typically cowered in her presence, and even Cas was careful to maintain some composure when he was around her, never challenging her outright. Then again, he had felt the power of her fists on more than one occasion. Perhaps if Captain Diazal felt Zenfor’s fury, she might not be so courageous. Though she suspected that might not be true. Diazal would take the beating and return for more, just to spite Zenfor. She smiled. Were Diazal a Sil instead of human, Zenfor would have considered her for top position on her own crew.
“I am not questioning your loyalty. But I expect my orders to be followed, is that understood?” Her face was like that of a statue, unwavering. What could drive her so deeply? Zenfor felt as if there were more to this woman than just an iron resolve. She’d seen glimpses of it before, and it was only becoming more evident. She would need to investigate further.
“I understand, captain,” she finally replied. “Do you wish for me to disengage the shutdown procedures?”
“No. But notify me before taking any further action. We don’t know what we’re running into down there and we might need Tempest to help us out. She can’t do that if she’s completely powerless.”
“Do you expect wave two to fare better than its predecessor?” Zenfor asked, probing. She’d seen something in the captain, and she wanted to see how far it would go. If Zenfor was right, she wouldn’t break. A small flash of something crossed the captain’s face, but it was either too fast or too human for Zenfor to decipher what it was. Not fear, but something else.
“I don’t know. But one way or another we’ll find out. I am trusting you up here with my ship. Don’t let me down.”
“I don’t go back on my promises,” she replied. Diazal held her gaze for a moment longer before heading off in the opposite direction.
You shouldn’t goad the captain, she’s under enough pressure as it is.
I know. But that’s precisely why I must. Tell me you don’t suspect there is something about her which does not make sense. These visions she’s had, and her ability to navigate us through the maze at Omicron Terminus. She hadn’t spent an abundant amount of time with the captain, but it wasn’t hard to tell there was something…foreign about her. And she wasn’t even sure if the captain recognized it. Will you tell me about your experiences together?
I’m sorry, Sesster said. But those are for her to divulge. Not me.
I understand, though I wish I understood better. It would have to wait until the captain and the rest of the crew returned from the surface. If they returned. While Zenfor didn’t necessarily believe the first wave of shuttles had broken up in the atmosphere or been destroyed, there was always a chance. And there was a chance she and Sesster would be the only beings left on the ship. It was possible all three waves could leave and never return. Then it would just be the two of them, for the rest of their natural lives. Would that be so bad?
I think you might find it lonely after a while. I can only provide so much.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Zenfor whispered, watching the rest of the Engineering crew file out of the room.
Chapter Eight
Before Cas stood the answer to all his problems. It was a siren’s song, pulling and dragging him ever closer, damn the consequences and damn what anyone else thought. He was tired of living for someone else’s expectations. It was his life and he could do as he pleased, so why was part of him so hesitant to step forward?
The lounge had been sealed off ever since the initial attack back at Omicron Terminus, since it was considered a non-essential luxury and maintaining the socializing and drinking establishment on the ship wasn’t a high priority. Most of the furniture had been tossed around and many of the bottles were smashed, their scents permeating the air as Cas stepped through the doors. He’d only been in here once since the attack: when he’d tried to lure Diamant into revealing his true intentions. And to some degree it had worked, but it hadn’t prevented the man from taking over the ship. The day Evie had named him as first officer he’d sworn off drinking until he was a full civilian again. Not just because it would affect his performance, but because he had felt different. He had something of a purpose again and with all the repairs and minor emergencies all over the ship, it had kept him busy. He’d never had to face the real test. The one where he would find himself without his hours in the day filled. The one where he didn’t have an excuse not to come down here every evening.
But now, everything had changed.
With the potential loss of wave one and the rest of them flying into the same danger without knowing what was ahead of them, Cas figured now was as good a time as any to start back up again. It always came back to excuses. He could always find an excuse to “celebrate”. And this was no different. He pushed errant chairs aside as he made his way through the room to the bar on the far side. Many of the bottles had spilled or broken, but a few remained intact and still on the shelves; those with magnetic locks or other safeguards in place. Cas couldn’t even read half the labels as they were often in a native planet’s tongue. But did it really matter? As long as it was amber and alcoholic, did he really care?
He pulled a delicious-looking bottle, its contents the color of honey, off the middle shelf. The label looked as if it was written in Husmus-riza, the letters and shapes all flowy with accented ends. He wasn’t much of a paleographer, but he was reasonably sure the bottle was at least a couple hundred years old based on the script. And it hadn’t even been opened. He tore the paper and pulled the artificial cork away, allowing the liquid inside to breathe for the first time in centuries.
“Six-hundred bottles in here and you choose the rarest one,” a gruff voice said from the doors of the lounge. Cas glanced up to see the silhouette of a broad-shouldered man, a slight reflection coming off his bald head though the rest of him was in shadow.
“Martial? Aren’t you supposed to be in the evacuation area?” Cas asked, setting the bottle down.
“I’m sure no one’s noticed.” Martial stepped into the light. He had a light gray beard which matched his eyes perfectly, though he didn’t look old in the traditional sense. If Cas had to guess he’d say Martial was probably in his fifties, though his build suggested someone who could still be in their thirties. Especially his arms, which seemed to strain the fabric holding them in. They were probably the reason he was such an intimidating bartender. He and Cas hadn’t had much interaction other than Martial cutting him off more than once.
Martial walked around the bar, staring at Cas like a predator as he watches his next meal. “Do you have any idea how hard that stuff is to find?”
He didn’t. He hadn’t even been sure what it was. But if it was to be his last drink, he’d made a fitting choice. Cas shrugged. “It smells good.”
“I’m tired of finding you in my bar.”
Cas glanced at the bottle and sat on one of the stools. “I don’t blame you. I’m tired of being here.”
“What the hell are you doing? Get off that stool, this isn’t a therapy session. You can either leave here of your own free will or I can toss you out, it’s your choice.”
Cas tried to keep the amusement from his face. “You know you’re a civilian, right? This is military ship. You don’t have—”
