Children of Hope (78 page)

I blurted, “Wait, sir!”

The outrider sailed past me, came to rest against the inner hatch. It quivered.

I waited for oblivion. At length, wondering, I turned my head.

Outside the fish, another outrider, absurdly large. No, it was wrapped about …

A suit. An ancient suit. The holos hadn’t shown that style in years. Decades.

“Not Philip Tyre, I beg you. I couldn’t stand it.” Foul bile flooded my throat.

“What, Randy?” Yost.

Desperately, I swallowed. “Nothing.”

The outrider oozed off the suit, launched himself and it. Together, they floated to our lock.

The first outrider loomed over me. It exuded my plate.

A sizzle.

After a time, it abandoned the plate, reconstituted itself at the hatch, quivered once, and launched itself home.

The second outrider propelled the suit toward our inner lock.

I didn’t dare cycle, not with him aboard. I could risk myself, but Tommy …

I peered at the plate.

A long message.

SALT IN HUMANS. SALT IN OUTRIDER. NO-WAR HUMAN / OUTRIDER.

I blinked. “What the fu—” I stopped myself at the last moment.

The outrider extended an appendage. Gray.

It touched my suit.

Not knowing why, I seized it, brought it to my helmet, kissed it through the bubble.

A moment of stillness.

With shocking speed the outrider moved to the hatch, launched itself, and was gone.

Mechanically, I cycled.

SALT IN HUMANS. SALT IN OUTRIDER. NO-WAR HUMAN / OUTRIDER.

It was almost familiar. What could it …

I rubbed my eyes. I was exhausted. If I hadn’t stayed up two nights reading the frazzing Bible, maybe I could think enough to—

“Yost, you hijacker, get him back to the Station!”

“Aye aye, sir, as soon as I get him inside.” The inner hatch slid open. Tommy stumbled over the ancient suit, hauled me past. “Sit there.” He shoved me into a seat. Forgetting we were in zero gee, I tried to balance the plate on my knees.

The arm of the suit blocked the hatch. With a muttered curse, Tommy dragged it to the tiny aisle.

As he let go, the helmet twisted to one side.

I gasped.

It was Fath.

“TOMMY!” Hands made useless by desperate frenzy, I clawed at the clamps.

“Oh, my God!” He knelt, ripped off the helmet.

Fath’s face was gray and lifeless.

Yost spun, snapped my clamps, tore off my own helmet. “Stay with him!” He threw himself at the pilot’s seat. He gunned the engine so hard we shot past our lock.

Please, Sir. I’ll never ask anything else as long as I live. Just this one miracle. Please.

Nothing.

And then Fath breathed.

P
ANDEMONIUM.

The clang of alarms. Thudding boots, med techs, a crash cart, skid marks on the deck.

Corrine, I, Janey, Yost, Colonel Kaminski, a sea of hovering faces.

“Stand back!”

Janey beat on her mothers leg. “Will Daddy get up?”

Gentle hands enwrapped my forehead in a warm bosom. I clung.

“Get the mask—”

“I’m all right. Don’t need—”

“Yes, you do, sit.”

“Mrff …”

“Nick …” Corrine’s fingers pressed me tighter. “Oh, Nick.”

“Those tanks were dead empty!” A med tech, outraged.

“Probably all they had.”

“… up. Let me up.”

SALT IN HUMANS. SALT IN OUTRIDER. NO-WAR HUMAN / OUTRIDER.

Salt in us, salt in them. Peace. The outriders had gone glitched.

I stiffened. “Oh, Lord God!” Abandoning Corrine, I pushed through the circle tending Fath.
“Have salt in yourselves, and have peace one with another.
Mark 9:50.” I’d read the testament, eyes blurring on the holovid.

Fath’s eyebrows furrowed. He tore off his mask.

“On the plate!” I ran to the bulkhead, grabbed it, held it before his face.

He seemed embarrassed. “The air got … at the end I was rambling a bit. Salt was on my mind. A covenant of salt forever, if the salt has lost his savor, that sort of thing. That’s the best I could translate.”

“Why did they write me that particular verse?”

“Perhaps they understood it. Agreed with the sentiment.”

Slowly, as if by unspoken agreement, the circle around him eased. He propped himself on one arm.

“Fath, sir, why’d you give them your thrustersuit?”

“As a gesture of submission.”

“You could have died.”

“Unless they wanted me to live.”

“Alone, in the fish, with no suit … I couldn’t imagine the torment he’d undergone.

He winced, as if recalling memories he’d avoid.
“Out of the belly of hell cried I, and Thou heardest my voice.”

I blurted,
“For Thou had cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about.”

He looked at me with astonishment.

I shrugged, shamefaced. “I had nothing else to read.”

He struggled to his feet, looked me over more closely. “Just why are you half-suited?”

I swallowed.

His eyes narrowed. “Joey, what have you been up to?”

The caller crackled. “Comm Room to Commandant. A call for Captain Seafort. Is he, ah, up to it?”

“Yes, I am.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. With any luck, Fath would overlook my escapade. A click.
“Frand here.”

Perhaps Fath was still muddled. He left the speakers on. We all heard.

“Seafort.”

“We’re about to Fuse.”
A pause.
“I wish events … I had no choice but to relieve you.”

Fath said nothing.

Ms Frand cleared her throat.
“Has Mr Kenzig given you instructions?”

“What about?”

“Whether to take the next ship in the pipeline, or to await orders from home.”

“He has not.” Fath’s tone was bleak. “Does it matter?”

“Our agreement was vague on the point. I’d like to inform Admiralty.”

“I imagine,” said Fath, “I’ll make my way home.”

“You’ll be too late, you know. Scanlen was right.”

“Ah. You heard?”

“He spoke from the bridge.”

I rolled my eyes. The day Fath would share his bridge with a fraz like Scanlen …

“You know,”
said Ms Frand,
“I’m rather surprised you didn’t sneak aboard a launch, try to seize the ship, the way you did
Galactic
.”

“I gave my word. I keep it.”

“But if you’d reached home, you might have convinced the Assembly. You’re so bloody effective with the media. With so much at stake
…
”

“Tend to your conscience,” Fath said. “I’ll tend mine.”

“Well … what, Ms Skor? All right, stand by to prime. You know, Seafort, I’m rather glad your treaty won’t stand a chance. Always hated those creatures. Farewell.”
The speaker crackled, went silent.

Fath replaced the caller.

I slammed my fist into the bulkhead. “Bastards! Why do they gloat?”

Fath didn’t seem put out. “To reassure themselves.”

“Fath …” I shook my head. Didn’t he see? Our accomplishments meant nothing? The fish would be obliterated, Hope Nation reduced to servility, Corrine Sloan rearrested and put to death. It was all a matter of time. If only she’d killed Scanlen as well as Andori; if only the Bishop hadn’t coerced Fath into exile …

“Don’t despair, son.”

My tone was dull. “What will you do now?”

“Why,” he said, “I think I’ll go home.”

My heart leaped. “We can repair the Station’s fusion drive?”

“Impossible. The core of the Station is an obsolete ship, but her drive is gone. They’ve built sections right across the remains of the old tube shaft.”

“If we cut away …”

“No, there’s no way to generate a wave. The engine itself is gone.”

“But
Olympiad
’s Fused.” She was the only starship within nineteen light-years that could get Fath home. “And you gave your word.”

“You’re dying to know, joey. Very well, tonight, in my cabin. With your mother and Janey.”

“My moth—” I gulped. It seemed there was a lot he wasn’t telling me.

“Look at them.” Mr Dakko peered through the porthole.

It was a sight to behold. Fish, six hundred of them, nosed about a cargo shuttle, careful not to damage its hull. Huge chunks of salt—I’d thought it only came as grains—floated about. Fish nuzzled the chunks, absorbing them through gaping membranes. Occasionally, an outrider assisted his craft.

In the shuttle’s cargo bay, a Station hand worked to off-load salt as quickly as possible. A volunteer; I marveled that we’d found one. I’d have gone, but Fath refused with such vehemence I dared not ask again. So I hung about, receiving an occasional pat on the shoulder. He didn’t mean to be condescending, he was just preoccupied.

“The first step.” Fath’s voice was quiet. “Who would have thought …”

Mr Dakko rested his chin on his palm. “If only Kevin could have seen it.”

I glanced at Fath, read what might be permission. “It was Kev’s doing, sir.”

“And yours, joey.” Mr Dakko was silent a long moment. “I’ve been spiteful to you, and mean. I’m sorry.”

“No more than I deser—”

“You have my respect.”

I blinked away a sudden sting.

Mr Dakko said to Fath, “This maneuver will use up a year of credits. Closer to two.”

“Think of the alternative.”

A gloomy sigh. “I know. Do it.”

Fath smiled. “I never thought you’d say otherwise.”

“Not so, Jerence. Just borrowing it for a while.” Janey sat on his lap, playing with his lapel. We were in his cabin.

While he listened, he threw an arm across my shoulder, hauled me closer. “We’d help you jury-rig a temporary. Ah, well. You know, of course, that if you refuse I’d go along with you.”

In the caller, tinny words of protest.

Fath winked.

“Very well, old friend. Thank you. We’ll start the shuttles groundside.”

When he rang off, I said to Fath, “Let me help.”

“No.”

“Why not?” My tone was petulant.

“You’re brilliant, son, but a creature of impulse. I don’t want you to—”

“That’s not fair. I’m doing what you tell—”

“And the other reason …” His tone was level. “That day, in the fish, you reminded me you were a joeykid with responsibility beyond your years. It was true. So I’ll make the decisions, and raise you as best I can.”

I wanted to hug him, and kick him. I retreated to my cabin.

Tommy dragged his duffel toward the crowded shuttle lock; he was due to report to Admiral Kenzig and the sleepy Centraltown base. I walked along for company.

As he neared the lock, Fath hurried down the corridor. “Yost!”

“Yes, sir!” The middy jumped to attention.

“As you were. I’ve been on the line to Mr Kenzig. Your orders are canceled.”

“They are?” His voice was small.

“Yes. Disappointed?”

“I … I understand why he wouldn’t …” He scuffed the deck. I frowned. Mikhael would have demerited him on the spot. “I wasn’t very … I’m sorry I …”

“Oh, it’s not that,
I
want you.”

“You do?” His voice came out a squeak. He blushed.

“Would you accept a few months duty on the Station? Under my command?”

“I … yes, sir.” His chest swelled.

“There’ll be no shore leave.”

“I understand.”

“Very well. Unpack your gear.”

“How many more, Fath?”

“Two shuttles. We have about an hour.”

And so the time came.

Minutes after Colonel Kaminski boarded the final shuttle, six hundred fish began their slow drift toward the Station.

An outrider floated into our open airlock. It twitched and quivered while the lock cycled.

Fath and I met it in the corridor.

TIME NOW
.

Fath stooped with the etching tool, but saw the plea in my eyes. Silently, he handed it to me.

I bent. “Humans / fish Fuse together home system.” And then I added, “Time now friends.”

Fath’s eyes smiled.

A woman’s voice. “Hon, we ought to be together.”

“Yes, we ought.” Fath took her hand. For the moment, I took his other. Janey trailed alongside.

Minutes later, I paced the Comm Room. My Comm Room. I was the sole tech on duty, personally appointed by Fath.

In the screen, I could barely see stars for the mass of fish.

After we’d all exchanged reassurances, I’d been to my cabin, and brought my favorite holo of Derek. I set it on the console, gazed moodily.
I understand now, Dad, why you’d follow him anywhere.

It’s not going to be easy, making him proud. You were easier to please, and more forgiving. Of course, I was younger then. But he’ll be good for me. Keep me on my toes.

Nobody but he would have thought of it, Dad. A matter of putting things together, perhaps, but he was the only one to see it.

The fish agreed to take cargo. They couldn’t take us, not inside them. The outriders of One-Arm had asked me if my suit was secure, before Fusing. Without a suit, I’d have died. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps they’d learned it was so, with some poor souls during the war. And we couldn’t possibly Fuse the many months home, suited all the way.

Yet, during the war, Fath had embedded
Challenger
’s prow in a fish, and it had Fused for weeks. No one aboard wore suits.

In the war, a squadron of fish had Fused to our upper atmosphere with an immense rock. An external object they’d somehow enveloped within their Fusion field.

Our Station had launches and gigs, but they were all too small. We could fit in, though quarters would be cramped, but we couldn’t possibly squeeze in the supplies needed for months of Fusion.

The Station itself was another matter.

I’d asked Fath, “Won’t they accuse you of breaking your word?”

“No, I’m keeping it to the letter. I promised to wait on the Station, until my banishment is lifted. And so I will. I can’t help it if Scanlen assumed the Station was, er, stationary.” His eyes danced.

I tried to imagine the uproar in home system, when Orbit Station unexpectedly appeared, surrounded by fish. And Earth itself … Dad had told me tales, and Fath too, but I’d never been to visit. I wondered if I’d like it.