Riding on Whispers (the Wolfegang series Book 3) (7 page)

I leafed through the journal quickly. “So you just inscribe what you want the system to do with this code? And you can change it however you want?”

Wolfe shrugged. “Yes and no. These codes can be tweaked for each system—that’s how I interfaced it with the more modern systems. Crystals are very powerful. But sometimes they’re not as precise as the new technology. So I try to find ways to combine the two for the best accuracy and maximum power for this boat. My weapons system looks archaic, but the guns can blow anything out of the water up to a dreadnought.”

Another old sea term, I noted. I’d looked the term up the first time I heard the crew whisper about one. It was the largest class of ship in the galaxy, owned and manned by the Federation. It was a flying city—country, even. Whatever you wanted to call it; the dreadnought was the largest ship in space with the deadliest and nastiest guns. It vaporized anything it set its sights on, patrolling sectors of space and keeping it ‘free of lawbreakers,’ as the captain put it.

“Did you serve on one?” I asked.

The glow from the table light threw a sharp contrast against the shadows on his face. “For my first term, yes, but then I was moved to smaller, faster, and deadlier ships until I was Captain of my own destroyer.”

Wolfe leaned on the table to inspect more of his tools. “I started off as an engineer. Then with the extra combat training for the war, I became more useful to the military and was promoted quickly and efficiently.”

The way he spoke, it was as if he was reminiscing fondly. “Do you miss it?” I asked.

He looked at me appraisingly, like he was trying to see if he should actually tell me or not. “Sometimes I do. There were times I couldn’t possibly think of doing anything else with my life. But then there were times I hated everything I did.”

For him to tell me something so personal, a huge part of his life summed up in a few words, meant something to me. I understood exactly how he felt. It made Wolfe seem more like a real person and not just our leader.

I gave him the tool back and took the one in his hand to inspect it. The point was carved into a star. “Are you ever going to tell me why you don’t live that life anymore?” I asked.

That time he outright stared, probably thinking I was overstepping a line and being completely inappropriate. “Why should I tell
you
?” He sounded angry. “You never reveal anything about yourself.”

His tone shocked me, and I took a step back. “That doesn’t mean that you haven’t seen more of my weakness and pain than I care to share,” I said. I took a breath before I lost control and gave in to the anger I could feel waiting for me at the edges of my vision. I leaned against the table, my body angling away from him and his eyes.

Wolfe blinked, remembering the situation he’d helped rescue me from. He may not have known why I was tortured, except for his assumption that it was because of him. He may not know why I was depressed sometimes, or why I did certain things that made absolutely no sense to him, but he saw my vulnerability. That was enough to make me uncomfortable and distrusting.

He sighed, giving in to my query. “I was asked to do something I couldn’t live with,” he said quietly. “…Which I only realized after the mission was complete.” He turned back to the crystals.

I gently put the tool back in its box. It seemed that mission was when he lost everything. He couldn’t live with the life he’d chosen, even when it meant everything to him. I knew better than most how painful the memory of what you lost could be. “I’m sorry,” I said.

A moment passed before he spoke, and he shifted just enough that he was suddenly closer. “So here are the symbols I used to obtain maximum power from the crystal,” Wolfe said, switching the subject. “And here is an open-ended command that links to the weapon it was made for. That way, if I need to change the power level of the cannon, it can be altered as necessary.”

“Is there a manual or reference book for this code?” I asked, taking his hint.

“There is a manual. I managed to scavenge one before they got rid of them all. The book is extremely rare, so if you’re going to read it, I’d need you to be more careful with it than you are with these crystals.”

I still didn’t understand why books were so hard to come by. Yes, new books weren’t made often because of the scarcity of material, but did they burn all of the old ones? I turned away from Wolfe so he couldn’t read the expression on my face. I pretended like I was studying the drawers of crystals in the walls.

“I’ve seen paper around. We use it in notes, and I’ve printed out a few articles on it.” I wasn’t sure where the distinction between using paper, and not using it was.

“That’s true, but that’s recycled paper,” Wolfe explained. “The amount of paper required to print a book was considered obscene, so the Federation outlawed it about a hundred years ago, and cutting down a tree became a felony. It was done in an effort to preserve the quality of air. If we chopped down trees at the same rate they did in the 20
th
Century, we’d quickly lose all O
2
in the atmosphere of Earth. The only paper now is made from diseased or naturally fallen trees, and then it’s recycled. The Federation has yet to find a planet under its rule where trees can be used for the production of paper. By the time they do, I’m sure no one will want it any longer, accustomed to life without it.” He gave me an odd look. “Where have you been for the last hundred years?”

I laughed nervously. “I’ve been traveling. You know, you kind of miss things.”

Wolfe didn’t look convinced. “Sure.”

“What else is there to know about the crystals?” I asked, changing subjects again.

There was a lot more actually. Inscribing the crystals was a skill like any other, and I was going to have to spend a lot of time studying and practicing. I had months on a spaceship though, with not much else to do aside from learn something useful.

I didn’t mind. It was easy to spend time with Wolfe when he was actually being himself and not just the captain.

I watched him as we bent over the table. He studied the crystals while I studied him. I wondered again what Wolfe wanted from me. He didn’t seem to be the type to just rescue damsels in distress and then ask them to join his crew.

But then again, I didn’t know the whole story behind Celeste either.

The next day, Wolfe showed me where he kept the raw crystals, uncut and rough, as well as the crystals that were shaped, but still blank. Each type of crystal had a drawer or two built into the table, velvet-lined with slots to hold each individual piece without scratching them. Velvet cushioned the drawers to prevent static electricity; even the slightest electrical shock would initiate the crystals before all the inscriptions were in place.

A lot of backups sat ready and waiting for when we needed them. Wolfe had a case of tools also lined with the black velvet. Each tool had its own spot within the case, and they shone with care, the diamond tips glinting in the glowing light.

Briefly, I wondered what diamonds were worth now. I still had some of the jewels I’d inherited from my grandfather safely tucked away in my trunk—like my great-grandmother’s ring she managed to get out of Russia during the revolution.

I smiled sadly as I thought about her. If only she could see me now. Every once in a while my memories caught up with me, and I would get lost in them for hours. Occasionally, time was lost and in the blink of an eye a few hours had passed. I still wasn’t sure exactly why it happened, but my thoughts were almost impossible to control once something triggered a memory.

My hands clenched. It was getting harder to stay focused the more time I spent with Wolfe. I was afraid he would notice exactly how peculiar I was and worry at it like a dog with a bone. So far, I’d managed to keep my past and the truth of how I’d woken up with no identity from him. He had to be suspicious, or at the least bit, curious. How long could I hide my genetic alterations when even I didn’t know the extent of them?

Wolfe sighed, noticing I was distracted. He started putting everything away. “It’s been a few hours already. Let’s take a break and get something to eat. Maybe some java – or coffee – as you say.” He put away his tools, and the crystals went back in their drawers. “We can eat in my office if you want. I have the book stored there.”

I hoped I didn’t upset him. “Thank you. That would be nice,” I said, feeling guilty. “I appreciate your help.”

Wolfe gave me a small smile and held the door open for me. “You are very welcome. It’ll be nice not to be the only one onboard who knows this system.”

I walked out of the dark engine room into the brightly lit cargo bay, holding his leather bound journal of notes close to my chest. He headed up the metal stairs to the common area and into the galley. I noticed that I was actually hungry then, and glad we were getting something to eat.

Wolfe programmed something into the food processor; some meat, cheese, and crackers popped out. It looked delicious, simple and tasty.

“I have java in my office,” Wolfe said, picking up the large platter of food.

I nodded and followed him to his office. “Do you need help carrying that?” I asked.

“No, I got it, but if you could open the door for me…”

I pressed the keypad, and the door slid open. I watched Wolfe closely. He looked so tired; I wondered what was troubling him. I didn’t have the guts to get a straight answer.

Wolfe walked through the door, and I followed him in, sat down on the couch against the wall, and tucked my legs underneath me. He set the tray down on the small table in front of me, then walked over to the opposite wall and pressed buttons on his coffee machine. A few seconds later I smelled freshly brewing coffee.

“That smells amazing. Is it different than what’s in the galley?” I asked.

He smiled appreciatively. “It is. I’m glad you can tell the difference. Java really isn’t that common. Tea is more popular and easier to get, but it’s not my preference. If you like, you can always come in here for some.”

That surprised me. Why would he allow me that kind of access to his office? “Are you sure? I don’t want to use up your private stock.” I tucked a fallen strand of hair behind my ear.

Wolfe was being nice, but I didn’t want to be more indebted to him than I already was.

He busied himself by arranging things as he spoke. “No, I insist. Just let me know, and I’ll make it for you.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Thanks.” I didn’t quite know what to make of the offer, but I was probably just overthinking it.

Wolfe had been acting strange all afternoon. He poured me a cup of coffee with real cream and sugar and placed it in front of me. It was extravagant; a treat.

He saw me staring. “Thanks to you, we have the extra credits, so don’t worry about it.”

Wolfe swung a portrait open from the wall to reveal a very strong-looking safe. It had a code, hand recognition, and then a combination lock. The door looked to be made of double or even triple-reinforced steel as well. Whatever he kept in there, he wasn’t messing around.

I couldn’t see much inside the safe as he took out a giant book. I did manage to see a few other books, boxes, and our stacks of credits with a pistol on top of them. I was intrigued by everything, betting his life was in there. Anything I could ever want to know about him was probably locked away in that safe.

Wolfe closed the safe door, and I looked away before he could see my interest. I didn’t want him to suspect I was trying to find out his secrets for ulterior motives. I’m sure he was already somewhat suspicious of me, and he was only fighting his initial distrust because Ricky vouched for me.

He sat next to me on the couch, far enough away for once that I wasn’t tense. He placed the book on the table and carefully opened it. “Wear the leather gloves I gave you, that way skin oils don’t transfer.”

“Of course, Captain.” I leaned closer so I could get a better look at the pages.

The paper was yellowed, the type was a faded greyish-black, but the diagrams looked perfectly intact. I could read everything clearly despite how old it was. “How is it so legible?” I asked.

“Printers treat all paper products with a serum that protects the ink,” Wolfe explained. “The protectant lasts for thousands of years. Scientists developed the serum from an Egyptian recipe. It took a few hundred years to get it right, but they finally figured it out.”