Children of Hope (42 page)

“Aye aye, sir.” Inwardly, I kicked myself. General Quarters was no time for insubordination.

“It’ll be all right, Randy.”

“I know.” Almost, I believed it, though my stomach knotted.
Easy, joey. Fath was at the helm, and Mik was close.
I glanced out the porthole. Already the distance to the alien was widening. I willed myself calm.

Tommy Yost’s eyes were glassy. “Is this what they did … before?”

What a stupid question. No, wait: he’d been shoreside during our other encounters. I made my tone soothing, and a touch condescending. Middies weren’t so adult after all. “They appeared from nowhere, like this one. But not so close.”

“It’s throwing! Laser room, fire at will! Closing corridor hatches! All hands, all passengers to suits!”

I bent to the porthole for a last glance. While we’d bickered, the fish had grown an appendage. It swirled lazily. In a moment, it would break off, sail through our defenses, splatter the hull. Its acid would begin to eat through.

“You idiot, come
on!
” Mikhael hauled me toward the suit locker.

Feverishly, I climbed in. Legs. Torso. Arms, the hard part. Whew. Why couldn’t someone design—

“Bridge, laser bank three disabled!”
Ms Frand must be so distracted, she didn’t realize she was using shipwide circuits.

“What’s happening?” Yost’s voice was a whine. “Why won’t they tell us—”

“That’s quite enough, Thomas.” Mik’s tone of command was one I recognized. I suppressed a grin. One couldn’t live long with Fath, without learning his ways. “In fact, altogether more than enough. I’ve a mind to tell Mr Riev.”

“Oh, don’t!”

Mikhael clamped his helmet, spun me around to check mine. “If I were first middy you’d be swimming in demerits, joey. We’re all scared. Do you hear Randy carrying on?”

“No, but …” A deep breath. “Sorry, Mr Tamarov.”

“That’s better.” A reassuring clap, which nearly knocked Tommy to the deck.

“Attention, passengers and hands.”
The Captain’s voice was heavy.
“The fish is gone. When our lasers opened fire, it Fused. We’re in no immediate danger.”

I let out a breath that fogged my helmet.

“Olympiad
was attacked just before Fusion, when we were most vulnerable. We deprimed. Our concern was that our tubes might be attacked at the moment we Fused One laser turret is inoperative, but is repairable. Unless the fish reappears, in a moment we will reprime and try again to Fuse. As a precaution, do not open your cabin hatches, and remain in your suits.”

“Christ, why don’t they leave us alone?” Mikhael.

“Don’t blaspheme,” said Yost, primly.

Mik rolled his eyes. “I apologize. I meant no disrespect.”

“I ought to tell Mr Riev. In fact, I think I wi—”

I snarled, “Leave him alone, you turd!
I’ll
tell Riev you cried like a joeykid when—”

“I did not!”

“SILENCE, BOTH OF YOU! THIS INSTANT!” Mikhael’s face was red. “Mr Carr, you’re on report. No, not a word!” His warning finger was a dagger. I swallowed. “As for ourselves, Mr Yost, I’ll inform the first midshipman of our conduct, including my own intemperate language.”

Tommy Yost looked sullen.

“Clamp your helmet.” Mik’s tone was peremptory. “Mr Carr, back to your station.”

“What station? You told me to stay with—”

“The lock.” He stalked off.

I tried to hate him, but failed. I’d had no business interposing myself between midshipmen, and knew it the moment I’d opened my mouth. I sighed. The trick was to know it
before
I opened my mouth.

“Engine Room, prime.”

My heart quickened.

The corridor was deserted, except for ourselves. No doubt our passengers were still struggling with unfamiliar suit clamps.

Midshipman Yost trudged along the corridor, his suit finally secured. “Mr Tamarov …” He sounded conciliatory. “I’m sorry if—”

Alarms wailed.

“Deprime, deprime! Fish at close quarters!”

I shouldered Mik aside, squinted through the porthole. The fish loomed so close it seemed to be touching. Angry colors swirled. A blowhole opened. A fine spray shot out. The fish drifted toward our stern. An appendage grew from its side, began to swirl.

Not our fusion tubes. Please, God. We’d be stranded.

“Laser room, fire at will!”

Abruptly, a second fish. I flinched.

Alarms shrieked, a babble of orders from the bridge. Slowly, ponderously,
Olympiad
turned from the new menace.

It was the same fish that had lain off our side for so long; I could have sworn to it. It had the same reddish swirl near its dorsal bulge. The other fish had none. Neither had the other alien I’d seen.

The second fish was on a collision course with its mate. A hole appeared in its side; our lasers had found a target. It pulsed, but didn’t Fuse. It rammed our attacker amidships.

I grabbed the caller, stabbed at keys.

Mik wrestled for the caller. “Get away from that! We’re at General Quar—”

My voice was shrill. “Bridge! Tell Captain Seafort—it’s Randy, the ship’s boy—tell him that’s our old fish! The second one is helping us!”

Mik wrenched the caller from my grasp, flicked it off. “How
dare
you!” He was every inch a Naval officer.

“Laser room, hold fire!”

In slow motion, our aft portside thrusters and forward starboard thrusters turned our irreplaceable tubes from the attacker. It brought the fish in full view of our airlock porthole.

An outrider roiled through the skin of the newcomer. It launched itself.

Not at us, but at its compatriot.

It floated across the void, struck the fish’s swirling skin. It clung to the surface, blurred, disappeared within.

My breath rasped in my helmet. Easy, joey. Don’t hyperventilate. Just because you’re scared out of your wits is no reason to gasp for …

Our attacker pulsed. Suddenly it vanished.

The fish with the red swirl remained, uncomfortably near our tubes. I watched for an appendage. None appeared.

“Ship’s Boy Carr to the bridge.”
Fath was terse.
“I’ll open hatches as you reach them.”

“Mik, am I in trouble?”

“Move, or you will be.” His gloved hands urged me toward the section hatch.

“Ship’s Boy Carr reporting, sir.” I couldn’t salute through a helmet.

To my surprise, everyone was suited, even the Captain.

“How’d you know that was our original fish?”

“That red spot, sir.” I pointed.

Fath glanced at Tolliver. “You’re right. He was the first to notice.”

“How fortunate no one hanged him.” Tolliver’s tone was dry.

Andrew Ghent’s jaw dropped. It caught Tolliver’s notice; Ghent hurriedly bent to his console.

“Very well, Mr Carr.” Fath’s tone held approval. “Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. I’m on report.” It was best to tell him myself.

“That will wait. About the fish.”

The alien floated on our screen. An outrider clung to its surface. I blurted, “Where did that come from?”

“Inside. I suppose you think it’s friendly?”

If I was wrong, I’d look like an idiot. Worse, I’d endanger our ship. I took a long breath. “Yes, sir.”

“So do I. Edgar disagrees.”

“What I said, sir, was that friendly or not, we’d be crazy to trust it after what we just saw.”

“I stand corrected. Edgar thinks you and I are crazy.”

Andrew Ghent choked. His face was red from the effort of suppressing nervous laughter.

“So.” The Captain drummed his console. “What now?”

I had the sense to know he wasn’t really asking me. I pressed my lips shut.

Fath keyed the caller. “Laser room, if the outrider launches itself, fire only if it nears our tubes.”

“Frand here. Sir, once it’s on our hull, we have no angle of fire. If it moves to the tubes …”

Fath set down the caller, chewed his lip. “Lord, this once I’ll speak to You. Thousands of Your people are at risk. I beseech You: what should I do?”

I found myself straining to hear a response. I shook myself. Father’s lunacy was contagious. There was no God.

A long moment passed.

As if confirming my opinion, Fath grimaced. “Nothing. He doesn’t care, or leaves it up to me.” He lifted himself from his seat. Standing below the huge simulscreen, he folded his arms, stared upward.

“Fire now, sir. Either we kill it, or it Fuses away. Then we’ve a good chance we can prime and Fuse before—”

“I know, Edgar.”

The bridge was silent. A moment passed, which lasted hours.

“Notify the Station we’ll stay. And prepare to open the section four lock.”

Once more, passengers were evacuated from sections three and five, to either side of the containment area, as well as section four of Levels 1 and 3, above and below. By Fath’s orders, belongings were left in place, and occupants of the affected cabins herded to the Dining Hall. The galley crew was hard at work, slapping together sandwiches and salads for those displaced.

To my relief, Fath didn’t send me to help. Who cared about frazzing passengers, when an outrider was coming aboard?

Fath did make me wait, though, until Mr Janks’s security detail was fully in place. Then, together with Tad Anselm, we walked down to the arena.

At Fath’s order, the outer hatch slid open. The Pilot moved us closer to the fish.

Jess copied the view from the bridge to our small screen at the negotiating table.

The outrider quivered, still attached to the fish. A convulsion, and he was sailing through space. He landed on our hull, not far from the hatch.

“Is it the same one, Fath?”

“Hmmm. I imagine so.”

Five minutes passed. The outrider did nothing. I gnawed at a knuckle. Would a different visitor have the same attitude as his predecessor?

I’d just begun to think the vacuum had frozen the outrider solid when he skittered into our lock. We cycled. He emerged into the section four corridor.

Immediately, he raced to our end of the section, melted into a puddle. He reared, melted anew.

Fath sighed. “I have to go to him. Edgar, are you listening?”

“Right here, sir.”

“Stand down from General Quarters. We’re diplomats again.” He got to his feet.

I stood also.

“Not this time, son. Watch from here. Tell me if he—”

“A parent ought to be consistent.” The words just popped out of my mouth, but they were as good a gambit as any.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.” I sounded defiant. Well, so be it. “We decided it was a risk we’d take together. I have a right to count on you.” I couldn’t imagine speaking to Dad so, but if I didn’t set things straight with Fath, Lord knew where it would lead us. Still, I wished it weren’t in front of Tad and Mr Janks.

“Our friend can’t wait.” Fath strode toward section six; to enter four without dismantling our transplex barrier, he’d have to walk the entire length of the circular corridor. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“Now’s better.” I pushed back my chair, ran after.

“As Captain, I order you—”

“If I touch you, will I be hanged?” Uninvited contact from a crewman was a capital offense.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re my son.”

“That’s why I’m coming with you.” I matched his stride.

It was a long walk. When we were there, he said, “Put on a suit.”

“When you do, sir.”

His tone had an edge. “Understand, you’ll be punished.”

“I expect it.” And it was true. Part of me even welcomed it. I was insolent beyond all expectation, and on one level, it was wrong. But I’d already lost Dad, and I had no intention of losing Fath.

At the hatch, he handed me his pistol.

I said, “I thought you wouldn’t trust me with it.”

“I thought so too. But I don’t want you killed.”

We went in.

The alien had reconstituted to a degree, but when we approached, it puddled.

Fath sat alongside, stood, slapped the bulkhead to get the outrider’s attention.

The outrider reconstituted.

I said, “Ask him if he’s the same one.”

“How?”

“Draw … may I? Jess, draw an outrider, then—”

“Officers’ commands are valid. Nonofficers may only direct a puter by authority of—”

“Jess, this is the Captain. Draw what he asks.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

I took a deep breath. “First, an outrider. A ship nearby. Then the outrider inside the ship. Then show him Outside. That’s his first visit, Fath. Then an outrider in a fish, near a ship …”

“Slow down, son.”

“Jess can keep up. He’s almost as smart as we are.”

“Your wisdom is commensurate with your age, Ship’s Boy Carr.” The servo’s arm raced, etching a plate, while I pondered the retort.

“Now change to outrider Outside fish. Then, outrider in ship.”

The servo lowered the plate. The outrider tasted it, and wrote.

On an unused section of plate, two additions.

Outrider dead.

Outrider in ship.

“How can he be dead if he’s in our ship?” I tried to puzzle it through.

“He may be saying he’s dead, and not the same one.”

“But he knows our language.”

“Randy, we don’t know that’s what he said. Our words may mean something entirely different to him.”

“Yes, sir. Jess, draw fish-attack-ship.”

“Done, Ship’s Boy.”

The alien tasted. He added a second fish, drew fish-attack-fish. Again, he puddled, the sign of submission.

“Quick, Jess, draw a symbol for that submission.”

“What symbol?”

“Anything. Choose one.”

Jess did: a square.

The outrider tasted.

“Draw outrider-submission-human.”

A taste. A symbol:
Yes.

Twice the alien ingested nutrients we provided it. I ingested nutrients too, from a tray brought to our table. I paid no attention to what they were.

We were working on symbols for time. It was excruciating: no matter what we tried, the outrider didn’t seem to understand our representation.

In the distance, a commotion. Tad Anselm jumped up, strode off to deal with it. It was several minutes before he returned. “Sir, Level 4 had a … community meeting? I don’t know what to call it. They sent a delegation.”