Adrift (24 page)

Thinking about that made it impossible to
concentrate. It wasn’t that Whit meant all that much to Tron. The old man was nice enough, for someone who’d been content to let him die. Except Whitman hadn’t exactly been content. The old man made sure Kivi left him a suit and Tron had seen digital proof that Whit made sure there was atmo pumped into the corridor like crazy every time the lights flickered on during their stay in the debris field. Still, it wasn’t really about Whit, Tron decided. It was about death in general, his mother’s bloated face on top of a pile of dead, the bodies they’d found in the freezer, and just the overwhelming stink of death and rot that were permeating the ship and sinking deep into Lucy’s pores. He loved so little about it, but the ship was still his home.

It was almost over now. He’d picked up Vah on the forward sensors a little more than two hours ago, which meant they only had to hold on for one more. Whit had lasted this long, Tron refused to believe the old man would quit so close to the end.

And, just because he’d started to think they were going to make it, the screen lit up with another warning.

Whitman hadn’t taught him all, or even most of the functions of the stations. Tron’s lessons had always been confined to flight and
navigation. He’d gotten by as well as he had, mostly because the set-up wasn’t too different from the pad he’d been using since the day he first set foot on Lucy. It helped that most of the programs were designed to walk the user through the basics that kept the ship some level of functional. That was how he knew that the lights were still clicking on every time one of the doors slid open, and that waste collection continued to operate at peak efficiency. But Tron had no context for the purple light he saw flashing now. He double tapped it, expecting a dialog box to open, explaining what was needed.

Instead, the small screen lit up with the image of a man’s face. It was hard to see details. The image was blurry and as colorless as all the sensor images.
But it was definitely a man. Instantly, Tron remembered Whitman’s warnings against talking to anyone but the base at Vah. “Would’ve been nice if you mentioned this part,” he muttered.

“Mentioned what?” Kivi asked in his ear.

“Mentioned?” Asked the man on the screen.

Tron swallowed a curse. “Who are you?”

“What’s going on?” Kivi asked, the cold voice she’d used with him since their kiss replaced by the fearful one he knew far too well. “Who are you talking to?”

“You will shut down your engine,” said the man on the screen.

“Oh sure.” Even with his heart pumping in his ears, Tron couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. “That sounds exactly like what I’m going to do.”

“I’m coming up,” Kivi said.

“I won’t ask again,” the man said.

“You didn’t ask a first time.” Tron pointed out. He tapped his fingers across the console, hoping
to stumble across the command to shut this down. “And stay away from here.”

“Me?” Kivi asked.

The man in the screen laughed. “Save your threats. Power down your engines and prepare to be boarded.”

“Yes you!” Tron barked into the mic. The two conversations were making his head hurt.
This must be someone from the other ship. Once again, he’d brought down catastrophe with his own stupidity. The best he could do was minimize the fallout. He had no idea what was visible to the man on the screen. It could be an image of his own face, just as small and blurry, or it could be the whole navigation room. There wasn’t a chance he was going to risk the guy seeing Kivi. Just to be sure, he got up and slid the lock closed. He needed to delay. There was no hint of the other ship in sensor range. Even if it was an act, it would take time to reach the same speed and cut the distance. If he could keep them thinking he’d do what they wanted, maybe they would put off speeding up long enough for him to get within hailing distance of the base, and call for help. Once he sat back down he pointed a finger at the screen. “And you. I asked you a question! You want my cooperation, you better think about answering!”

The man sighed and looked down. “I never get tired of dirt kisser courtesy.” Tron didn’t need the reception of the message to be of any great quality to pick up the sarcasm. He bit down on his tongue to keep from saying something nasty in response. He was supposed to be acting like there was a chance he could get won over
. If he put words to the bubbling fury then it would be another situation like the one that had driven Whit to locking himself in this very room. He couldn’t lose his temper. Not this time. This time it would be worse than a little kid with a broken arm.

“I am Duval
Hapson, head of security for the Vah Medical Research base. You’ll see that I sent you docking instructions. At the bottom, in the signature line, is our official signature. You can have your computer scan it for authenticity.”

Vah. Not the other ship. Vah. They’d run far enough, fast enough, and now at last the end was in sight. It was everything Tron could do not to sag with his relief. He very nearly shouted out the good news to Kivi. He didn’t, though. He remembered Whitman’s warning and, deciding to be smart for a change, kept his mouth shut and looked at his console.

Sure enough, there was another light blinking at him. This time it was blue, like when Whit had sent him messages from the other console. Tron double tapped and a list of instructions scrolled out in front of him. He didn’t bother scanning the signature; he didn’t know how. He hadn’t known anything like that was even possible. He also didn’t bother reading past the fifth step on the list. He knew it was beyond his skill before he got even that far.

“Most of my crew is dead,” Tron said. He hoped that it didn’t sound rehearsed. It was, of course. He’d been muttering it almost from the moment they’d sped up. It was what got him through the exhaustion or the utter loneliness
of Kivi’s thundering silences. But he didn’t want Mr. Duval Hapson knowing any of that. “My pilot is sick and needs a doctor as soon as possible. I don’t really know what I’m doing. These instructions aren’t going to help.”

“Of course they aren’t.”
The man sighed again. “Power down your engines and stand by.”

The image flickered out. Tron didn’t
waste a second. He dropped their speed down to idle, laughing the whole time. The ship shuddered and lurched, throwing him forward and nearly knocking the wind out of him, but he barely felt it.

Kivi’s cry brought him back to sanity.

“Shit! Kiv, you ok?”

“Alive,” she muttered. He knew she was mad this time. Not just closing herself off, but actually mad.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“What’s happening?”

“We made it, Kivi!” Mad at him or not, Tron couldn’t keep the pure joy surging through him tapped down for her. “It was Vah! We’re there!”

“Open the door.”

He blinked. She still sounded furious. Something was wrong. Whitman.

Tron slid the lock back and pulled open the door slowly. He wasn’t ready to face what was on the other side. He couldn’t deal with her tears, couldn’t handle another death. He was not capable of looking at Whit’s dead body, of moving one more corpse into the mess hall. Not now, not when they were so close.

It wasn’t even opened as wide as his shoulders when Kivi launched herself at him in a streak of hair and limbs. Without thinking, Tron caught her around her waist. Her arms locked around his neck and, for one very strange second, he thought she was trying to strangle him.

“You did it,” she breathed into his ear. And he heard the laughter in it. Instantly the dread was gone, and he recognized the grip she had on him for the hug it was. He returned it enthusiastically, with no thought to how small and delicate she was.

Vah

It all happened so fast. Well, not fast exactly. It was actually an hour and forty-two minutes, which wasn’t really fast at all. But the time seemed to go faster than it was supposed to, which was strange. Kivi wasn’t really sure where she spent all her minutes. They just kind of disappeared.

Before she had any time to think about it, they were approaching the great metal station.
The thing was like a castle from the stories brought to life. It was so dark that it would’ve blended in with the obsidian of space, if it weren’t for the glittering points of light scattered across its surface like imitation stars. As they got closer, Kivi could make out markings in the glow from those lights, but no matter how close she pressed against the glass of the window, she couldn’t read what was written there. She could only watch in awe as Tron guided the Lucy into the massive black doors that opened for them.

Ins
ide was so utterly unlike the foreboding exterior that Kivi wondered if she’d dreamt it all. Or maybe it was the inside that was a dream. Everything was white and brightly lit. It should’ve been overwhelming or blinding, but it wasn’t. Instead the effect was one of cleanliness and warmth. Along the walls were giant red numbers, with arrows underneath pointing in different directions. All around them was life, tiny crafts zipping about the Lucy, which felt like a great hulk of a ship in comparison. One of those tiny crafts approached them, slowing down enough for the man inside to wave as he passed the window. She was so surprised she didn’t even think to wave back.

An instant later, there was a clang from the corridor. She spun to Tron, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t been paying any attention to what he was saying since he first pointed out the tiny rock that was actually the moon of Vah. “What’s going on?”

He flashed her a wide smile. “He’s hooking up to us somehow, then he’ll take us to our dock. Apparently old Lucy’s too big for an inept pilot like myself to navigate through this place.”

She made a face, because Kivi figured he wanted her to protest his self-disparagement and it was easier than coming up with an argument. She didn’t want to miss a second telling Tron how great he was when he already knew he was the whole reason they were still alive. She never really understood flattery anyway, and there were certainly better things
to spend her time on right now. Kivi pressed her face against the window and tried to see around to the small vessel. But the Lucy was just round enough, and the vessel just far enough, that she couldn’t see anything at all. That would’ve been much more upsetting if they didn’t start moving.

They followed the arrow marked 35-70, which was to the left. She’d expected it to be slow, but
it felt like they were flying along almost as fast as they’d been traveling before. For a moment, there was nothing to see but the white wall. Then they sped around a corner, and suddenly there were ships
everywhere
. Not the small ones, like the one towing them. There were ships of every size and shape she’d ever read about, and then some. Small crafts that looked like they’d only hold a family or two were sitting next to bulks as large as the Lucy. Two that seemed to be about half the Lucy’s size were moving. One seemed to be pulling out and the other sliding in to some sort of bubble of inactivity amidst all the flurry of activity. Each ship was connected to the walls with a long metal protrusion that was large enough to walk through. Kivi realized at once that it must be hooked on to the airlocks, allowing passage to and from the base as well as holding the ships in place.

Some of the areas were empty, and in those Kivi could see more of the red letters, each one counting down to, she assumed, 35. Their little guide pulled them into 47, which was near the end of a whole section of unoccupied numbers, so there were no other ships nearby. Immediately, one of the metal protrusions started extending toward them. She couldn’t get a great look at it from her angle, but it
seemed like the end was not metal at all, but an oddly shaped gel. The result was that the whole device looked some kind of strange sucker that had only a few licks left to it.  They could hear the thunk as the thing connected with the Lucy, and Kivi could feel the vibrations of the impact through the window. A second later, the tiny ship appeared again, this time heading away with another wave from the man inside.

She glanced at Tron. He held out his elbow toward her. For a second Kivi didn’
t understand. Then she finally felt the twinge that had been constant in her leg for weeks. In her fascination, she had forgotten it, but now it was reminding her. It didn’t hurt, exactly. Or, it did. But it was an always kind of hurt, like when she woke up with headaches that stayed all day. The pain was so constant, so unchanging, that she could tune it out like the background noise that used to fill up the ship. But she was always aware of it. Until amazing things were happening just outside her only window into the black. Then she walked like it wasn’t hurt at all and the result was that it ached more than it had in days.

Her arm looped through his and he took on a good deal of her weight. It would be better for her leg if he carried her, and she knew that he thought so too.
She remembered how he had slung her over his shoulders that first day, which felt like so very long ago. She wouldn’t have fought him this time. What would be the point? But he let her stay on the ground and for that Kivi was grateful.

They made their way out of
navigation very slowly. Neither one of them knew what to expect. Kivi hadn’t really been listening, but some part of her mind must have been, because she was absolutely certain that the instructions Tron had been given only went up to the part where they were taken to their dock. Even if that part of her hadn’t been paying attention, she would’ve known by the look on his face. She hadn’t seen it much. Only once, when she first told him about her inventions that they used to catch Whitman. He was anxious and curious as she was.

Excited too. He had to be excited. Tron hated living on the Lucy, even before everything went wrong.
He’d told her so, and she believed him. He thought of the ship like his prison at least as much as his home. Maybe more. Probably more. Even though they weren’t talking about it, she knew he had to be excited to finally be let free. They didn’t talk about anything now. But she knew. She knew him.

Kivi didn’t want to feel excited. The Lucy wasn’t her prison. It was her home, the only one she remembered, and everything that was important to her was here. All her projects, her bed, the special corner in the common room where she could sit and the
other kids would leave her alone because the adults could see it too well. The people in the mess hall. Her brother. These people on this medical base were going to come inside and make everything better. It was all going to be fixed. She shouldn’t want to go anywhere. Except the thought of it did excite her. Just a little. It was confusing and she didn’t like it.

They both stared at the door. Kivi was waiting for Tron to do something, because Tron always did something. But wasn’t this time. She glanced at him again. He caught the look and turned red, the same way he did after she kissed him.

“I don’t know, okay? Shouldn’t someone be coming for Whit?”

Just as though his words were a summons, there was a hiss and the airlock door slid open. On the other side were three people, two women and a man, all much taller than most of the people who’d been on the Lucy before. One of the women was nearly as tall as Tron. They were all dressed in white, formless clothes and each of them had on a breather like Whitman’s. The woman in the lead, the tall one, looked at the two of them.

“Take us to the ill immediately, and describe their symptoms.”

This wasn’t a request. Kivi recognized the tone, even without knowing the woman at all and hearing it through the breather. This was an order, like the kind Captain Jay used to give. Someone else might have said ‘right now’ or ‘please’ but this woman didn’t bother just like the captain never did. She just expected her commands to be followed.

And they were. Whatever issues Tron had with other people giving him orders, they didn’t seem to extend to strange women in scrubs. He waved them in with gesture toward the med bay, then unlatched his arm from hers. “You going to be ok Kiv?”

The man paused as he was about to pass them, eyeing her with a look that didn’t make her feel particularly comfortable. It wasn’t the kind of look Dr. Geddes would give her. “Are you ill as well?”

Kivi shook her head.

“She hurt her leg a few weeks ago. It doesn’t seem to be healing right.”

She thought about elbowing Tron for saying anything. She wasn’t important. All that was important was that they fixed Whitman and put the Lucy back the way it was supposed to be. Her leg didn’t matter. Especially not when the one being told about it was the man with salt and pepper hair, leaning over her with that uncomfortable look in his eyes. She didn’t do it, of course, but she thought about it.

“I will take her to processing.” He moved to scoop her up.

Kivi threw her arms around Tron and held as tight as she could, resisting the man’s tugs with all the strength she’d built up. It wasn’t much, and wouldn’t have lasted long, but Tron didn’t wait for the man to get her away. He turned and put his own body between her and the older man, shielding her and holding her tight. “It’s okay,” he said with a smile she knew was fake. “I’ve got her.”

She knew that meant she would have to be carried after all. Which meant she was just a helpless little girl all over again. But being that for Tron was so much better than the scary man. So when he leaned down to get her, Kivi let go of h
im and gave him an apologetic smile of her own. He winked as he positioned her in his arms, then hurried to catch up to the first lady.

The woman glanced at the two of them, and Kivi knew they weren’t making her happy. “The symptoms please.”

“Um, right. Sorry. He’d been coughing for a while. Our ship was attacked and he… got locked in navigation. The water was down, so he didn’t have much to drink for a while. He was doing alright though, until we lost power. It got real cold, and I think that’s what did it. Since then he started coughing up blood and he got real weak.”

“He’s not from our ship.” The words came out of Kivi in a burst. All three of the strangers stopped, and she heard Tron draw in a sharp breath. It was obvious he wasn’t going to tell them, but they needed to know. How were they supposed to fix things if they didn’t know? Surely Whitman didn’t mean for them to keep lying even after they got people to help. “He came on later, and his breather got knocked off.”

Kivi expected them to ask why Whitman had come aboard or what had happened with his breather, but they didn’t. “How long ago did this happen? When was he first exposed?”

“Four weeks and six days,” she answered quickly. “Do you need hours?”

The woman’s right eyebrow lifted. “No. That is sufficient. Where was this ship launched from? How long ago?” She paused for a minute, eyeing Kivi with a look that was very different from her male companion’s. “In years, please.”

“Earth,” Tron answered before Kivi could. “
We weren’t told exactly where and I was too young to remember. The Americas, I think. About eleven years ago, now.”

There was a sharp noise, and Kivi couldn’t tell if it came from the woman or the breather. There wasn’t any reaction to this information around the woman’s eyes, but that might not mean anything. Kivi didn’t like these breathers. They covered up too much of people’s faces, and faces were already plenty hard to read. The woman lifted her head to look at the other woman. “Take enough blood to test for
Brexlers as well as the standard screening.” She turned back to the two of them. “How many have died from this?”

“None,” Tron answered.

“What symptoms do the other sick display?”

“There… there aren’t any others.”

The woman stopped walking again, her brows coming together to a point directly above her nose. “No others? You mean to tell me that the rest of the ship perished from another disease?”

“No.” Tron was slow to answer, and Kivi was afraid she was going to have to.
She couldn’t talk about that. Not that. They were here to fix it, and they couldn’t do that if she talked about it and made it real. But it would be real if Tron said it, too. She buried her face in his chest, choking on the tears she refused to shed, trying to will herself not to hear anything else.

“No,” she heard anyway. “That was… something else.”

“Oh.”

Kivi turned back out to the world at the sound of that. It didn’t sound like the same woman. At first, she though the other had spoken. But when she looked, she saw the other was still
several steps away, and the word had been far too quiet for that. It was the first woman, the tall one.

Her face, what there was to be seen of it, had softened. The pinched brow was gone. Now her eyebrows were turned down. Kivi wasn’t sure what that meant, but the woman seemed to be leaning closer to them almost like she wanted to give them a hug. It was such a dramatic change that it made Kivi’s skin crawl with
goosebumps, like this was a whole other person that had taken the place of the one they’d been talking to just a moment before.

“How long?”

Tron shifted. Kivi thought he might leave, if he weren’t holding her. She wished he would. She couldn’t talk about this, didn’t want to hear it. Why didn’t they understand? Why weren’t they fixing things?