Priestess of the Eggstone (3 page)

“Where are we?”

Jerimon emerged from the cockpit. “Good, you’re awake,” he said as he fished a juice container from the dispenser. “We’re on approach to Tebros.” He popped the top off the container , offering it to me.

I tried to sit. I was too weak and dizzy. Jerimon slipped his arm around my shoulders and lifted me, careful of the wad of bandages coating my shoulder. He steadied the container in my shaky grip. I hated being so helpless. I pushed the empty cup away irritably then sagged onto the bunk. Jerimon stepped back, shoving the cup into the disposal.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” I shifted, easing the itching under the bandage. Jerimon hunched his shoulders. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said you had a bad case of spacer’s flu.”

I shook my head then wished I hadn’t. The cabin faded to gray and black. I passed out before I heard his answer.

When I woke again the engines were off and Jerimon was gone. I dragged myself out of the bunk to the facilities, using walls and furniture to keep me upright. I managed to shower without passing out. It took me five tries to finally open my locker to retrieve clean clothes. I didn’t have the energy to peel the bandages off and check my shoulder. I had just enough to fall on the bunk and back asleep.

I woke again when Jerimon came in. He carried a stack of thin boxes, each sealed with the Belliff stamp. He passed me as he moved to stow them in the cargo bay.

“Did you get signatures on the other boxes?” I asked when he came back.

“Yes, I got all the signatures, I have the right papers. They seemed so happy to get the delivery that they even paid me.” He waved a plastic chit in front of my face. “The only problem is it’s in your name. I can’t touch any of it and there are people in the dock offices asking for their fees.”

I groaned. This was something I had to deal with. Fortunately I could manage it from the ship. I tried to get off the bunk. I fell on the floor.

“Help me get to the com,” I demanded irritably. My legs were rubber. I couldn’t seem to find the right orientation either. Up wavered depending on how my head was spinning.

Jerimon slung my good arm around his shoulder and helped me to the com unit. I sprawled over the chair, waiting for my head to quit insisting that up was somewhere on the wall. I thumbed the numbers into the unit, transferring half the funds into a joint account stored in the ship’s memory banks. The other half stayed on the chit which went into my private safe. Jerimon should have access to plenty of money for things we needed that Belliff didn’t provide as part of the contract.

I put a call in to their offices next.

It took me ten minutes to get past all the secretaries and talk to the person who actually had authority. The woman kept typing while she talked, not even glancing at the vidscreen.

“Captain Dace, is it? I heard you had some kind of accident. Your copilot was here with the packages. Very competent young man. What is it you needed to talk to me about?” She glanced up from her work. She frowned. “I don’t have time for prank calls. I thought I was speaking to your captain, not some junior assistant.” She reached for the cutoff switch.

“I am Captain Dace,” I said. “I’m calling about our contract.”

“What about it?” Her frown deepened.

I gripped the chair arms, I was going to fall out of the chair any moment. My head spun and I had to concentrate to find words. “Part of the arrangement was Belliff paying the docking fees. Why are they bothering me to pay them?”

“They have been paid.” She snapped off the unit. I slowly slid from the chair. Jerimon caught me just before my face hit the control panel.

He dragged me over to the bunk.

“Don’t pay for anything, except food,” I managed to say through the multicolored haze that tried to suck my brain away. Jerimon’s face loomed over me, his blue eyes bright. “Belliff is supposed to pay everything else. Am I dying?”

“You’re getting better.” He tugged at the bandages on my shoulder.

I didn’t object. I had no energy to care. My eyes slid shut.

I slept through takeoff and the jump into hyperspace. When I regained consciousness, the engines vibrated gently through the cabin walls. I made it to the facilities without having to catch myself.

Jerimon was sitting at the galley table when I came out, rolling a drink container from hand to hand. He looked tired. I collapsed into the chair across from him. He didn’t look up from the drink container.

“Is there anything to eat?” I was suddenly starving.

Jerimon punched buttons on the dispenser. We sat without speaking, waiting for the machine. We both jumped when it beeped, loud in the strained silence. Jerimon slid the tray onto the table. “How are you feeling?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Better. Do you want to explain?”

“We’re on our way to Viya with another delivery.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

He flinched and took a deep breath.

“The truth, Jerimon. Now. Spill it.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his black hair. “I was hired as a pilot for a group of xenobiologists. They wanted to explore old ruins on the frontier where some Sshoria artifacts were found. They spent hours debating whether the ruins were human in origin or not. I was interested so I listened to their arguments. That’s the only reason I know about any of it. When we landed, I didn’t have much to do so I explored. On the last world, I don’t even remember its name, I found buildings that were almost completely intact.

“I found a stone about the size of an egg and shaped like one, just lying on a table in one room. It was black, smooth and glossy. I thought it would make a good souvenir. It was just a rock, nothing important.” He crumpled the cup. “The ship started following us three days after we left the planet. They showed up wherever we went, almost as if they were tracking us through hyperspace. They kept their distance, made the captain very nervous. Then they started harassing us, demanding that we return what we had stolen.”

He stopped talking, fidgeting with the dispenser knobs instead.

“Go on.”

“They were Sessimoniss, not human. The xeno experts thought it proved the ruins were not human. The captain and everyone else assumed the Sessimoniss wanted artifacts that had been excavated, jewelry and bones and such. They offered to return them. The Sessimoniss called them garbage and kept insisting we had stolen something very important to them.

“When they called it the Eggstone I realized they were talking about the rock I’d taken. By that time, they were shooting. The captain got stubborn and went to report the whole mess to the Patrol. When we landed, my contract was up for renewal. Nobody thought anything about me leaving. I walked out and signed up on a temporary pilot job.”

“Why didn’t you just give the stone back?”

He shrugged. “I really don’t know. I figured they wouldn’t bother me anymore. I thought if I took enough jobs I could lose them. I just couldn’t seem to make myself give it up.”

“So where is it now?”

“I sold it, five planets ago. They were trying to kill me, hunting me down and showing up when I least expected them. I found some guy who dealt with stolen objects and sold it to him. I thought the Sessimoniss would quit following me then, that I was clear of them.” He looked across the table. Every pore oozed sincerity. “I’m sorry, Dace. I never thought they would attack you. I thought they were only after me.”

I rubbed my face. I could always dump him on the next planet. “Tell me everything about these Sessimoniss. And don’t leave anything out.”

“I don’t know much, just what I overheard. Nobody seems to know much about them. They come from somewhere in the Porlan Cloud, show up every year or so to trade. I swear I didn’t know about the poison.”

I shifted in my chair, trying to ease the aching itch in my shoulder.

Jerimon twisted the crumpled cup into a wad of paper. “When we land, I’m going straight to the Patrol. They’ll straighten it out somehow.”

“You have a lot of faith in the Patrol.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“You think the Sessimoniss will listen to the Patrol? Just like they listened to you at Rucal? We’re both in this, deep, whether you like it or not.” I shoved my empty tray into the disposal slot.

“But if I go, the Sessimoniss will leave you alone.”

“Do you have that in writing? What happened to the other ships they shot at?”

“But what else can we do? The Patrol is our best option.”

“Why don’t we find this Eggstone and give it back? That sounds simpler to me.”

“How do we get Belliff to send us to a planet they don’t have an office on?”

“Why do they have to send us?”

“It’s their ship. You said so yourself. You wouldn’t break contract, would you?”

“Whose hide are you trying to save now?”

“You can’t just go where you want, Dace! You’ll get locked up for pirating or worse.”

“That’s better than getting killed by a giant lizard. You didn’t give me much choice. I’ll talk to the manager of Belliff on Viya. The worst they’ll do is void the contract and leave us stranded there, looking for work.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your reputation with Belliff.”

I was more than a little annoyed at his martyred attitude, as if his apologies could fix the mess he’d tangled me in. “It wasn’t much anyway. If I get hauled up on piracy charges, I’m taking you with me.”

His eyes went wide.

I gave him a nasty grin. Tried to, anyway. The numbness came back with a vengeance. The last thing I saw was the worried look on his face as I slid off the chair.

Jerimon was in the cockpit when I woke up again, finally clear-headed and back to my normal self. He glanced my way when he heard me, face twisted in guilt.

I deliberately turned my back. I didn’t want to hear his apologies. I slammed the door to the facilities shut.

I peeled the bandages off my shoulder when I showered. Several sets of pinkish scars crossed the skin. They puckered a bit and still itched but were just about healed. I felt almost normal after I dressed in the last of my clean suits. I shoved my feet into my boots and went to find food.

While the dispenser was cycling, I gathered up my clothes, loading them into the cleaner. I sat at the table and waited. The dispenser beeped.

Jerimon stayed in the cockpit, shoulders hunched.

The frozen, processed dinner tasted too bland so I found a salt shaker. The top layer of food was white before the food tasted right.

Jerimon slouched out of the cockpit, sitting across the tiny table. He gave me a very strange look when he saw my dinner swimming in salt.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked after a moment. He winced every time I scooped up a bite.

“Other than this strange craving for salt, I’m fine,” I said through a mouthful. “Where are we?”

“Almost to Viya.” He ran a hand through his short hair. The lights in the cabin picked out blue highlights. Dark circles marked his eyes. He was still vidstar-handsome.

I realized I was staring and shifted my gaze to my plate. The sight of the thick layer of salt suddenly made me want to gag. I pushed the tray into the disposal slot.

“Do you want me to take the ship in?” I asked. “No offense, but you look beat.”

“Are you well enough?”

“I’m fine.” I was, really. The dizziness was gone. Other than an irritating itch in my shoulder, I felt better than I had for several weeks.

The warning buzzer shrilled through the tiny cabin. Jerimon jumped, knocking the salt shaker to the floor.

“You look like the one who needs to be in bed,” I said as I stood. “Go on, I’ll take care of things.”

Jerimon’s face was a battlefield for warring emotions. Guilt won. “I’m sorry about getting you into this, Dace. If I’d known they would come after you, I never would have signed on. I really thought I’d shaken the Sessimoniss.” His eyes were meltingly contrite.

My heart beat faster as he gazed at me through long, dark lashes. A cynical little voice in my mind wondered if he had that effect on all the women he looked at that way.

The alarm chirped urgently. We were about to hit normal space and the ship wanted a warm body in the pilot’s chair. I slipped past him, into the cockpit.

Jerimon heaved a sigh as he climbed into his bunk.

I spent a very busy few minutes as the ship emerged from hyperspace, shutting down the hyperdrive and booting the sublight engine. Everything came up green. I glanced at the viewscreen. The shimmering light of a gas giant glowed not far away. I checked the beacons. According to the signal, Viya Station orbited the gas giant. I pulled on a headset, then cycled through the radio channels, listening to snatches of talk.

“Viya Station,” I said into the mike after I’d set the channel to official frequencies. “This is—” I hesitated. I just couldn’t bring myself to say the name of the ship. “This is a courier flight for Belliff, Inc., requesting docking instructions.”

“What is the name of your ship, Courier?” a male voice replied through a burst of static.

“Why does it matter? Belliff should have filed flight plans.”

“I’ve got seventeen of them here. Repeat, what is your ship name?”

I swallowed hard. “Twinkle.”

“Please repeat. I thought I heard Twinkle.”

“You did.” I waited through the inevitable snickering. “Just give me the docking codes.”

“Twinkle.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “I got a ship named Twinkle here, Jerrie.”

“Yeah, tell it to Belliff,” I said. “Docking codes and a course, please?”

The proximity alarm shrilled. I muttered profanities as I shifted my ship away from the path of a huge ore tanker. “Can you stop laughing long enough to give me an approach path before I get smashed?”

“Viya Station, who is this unauthorized twit in our approach lane?” A new voice cut across the snickering.

“It’s Twinkle,” the man said, emphasizing the name of the ship. “Sorry, Brit. I’ll get her out of your way.”

“Give me the codes,” I said. Another freighter crept up behind me; I kept half an eye on the blip on my scope.

Numbers scrolled across the screen as Viya Station finally transmitted approach and docking codes. Space around the station was very crowded and busy. I cut in the autopilot and let it make sense of the twisted approach path. Another alarm went off. I was in the path of yet another tanker.