Shockball (6 page)

I saved bringing out the animal carrier for last. By now Jenner knew exactly what it meant when that appeared. Fortunately for me, he’d gotten too fat and lazy to run very far or fast.

I caught him and carried his struggling body over to the platform. “Come on, come on, you know the drill.”

I put a handful of dry mackerel treats in the carrier to placate him. He immediately kicked them out through the vent slots and yowled.

Do you really think you can bribe me?

“I tried.”

I met Reever in the nearly empty launch bay, and handed him the garment case as I climbed in the shuttle with Jenner. Strapping the carrier in only made my poor pet’s yowls get louder.

“You are injured.” Reever took my hands and extended them.

“Just a couple of scratches. Jenner doesn’t like taking trips.”

He eyed my darling feline. “I will never understand your attachment to that irate creature.”

“You love me,” I pointed out.

“You do not scratch me when I transport you.”

“I don’t? You sure have a short memory.” I patted his back in a particular place. “Everyone get off the ship all right?”

“Yes.” He went to the helm, and initiated the flight shield. “Come and sit with me.”

Normally I would have sat beside Jenner and tried without success to soothe his shattered nerves, but I had the feeling Reever wanted to talk about the baby. I’d been successfully avoiding the subject since the miscarriage. But it wasn’t just my baby, and I was sure he needed to vent.

Don’t think. Don’t talk. Just listen.

Slowly I went up and strapped myself in beside him. I also put up the mental walls that would keep my husband from accessing all my thoughts. I’d been doing that since the miscarriage, too.

We flew out of the launch bay and into space before he said anything. “I regret the loss of our child, Cherijo.”

I stared through the view screen at the looming outlines of the
Truman
. Squilyp was right, I did have an obligation to tell him. “Duncan, how would you feel if we could never have any more kids?”

“I have you,” he said, as if that was all that mattered. “We made this child. We will make other children together.”

For once I hated the fact I was female, and I had the uterus. “What if I can’t? What if I can’t and you find out I’m not enough?”

I knew how difficult it was for Reever to express himself emotionally. So it didn’t surprise me that the words that came from him were slow, and drawn from a place he was still getting acquainted with.

“Cherijo, I have never loved anyone in my life before you. It was not my choice to experience these emotions, but I have them. I have come to know them very well.”

“If it’s any comfort,” I said, feeling slightly miffed, “I didn’t want to fall in love with you, either.”

“So you understand how I feel. I had greatly anticipated the birth of our daughter, and I deeply regret her loss. But your concerns are unnecessary. We are both young and healthy. There will be other children. I look forward to them.”

We were approaching the docking entrance for the
Truman’s
launch bay, which was a good thing—I was about ready to burst into tears and ruin everything.

Not now.

“Okay.” I wiped my eyes quickly and straightened my tunic. “We’d better get up to Command and take a look at Operations first.” Something strange shimmered in front of the launch bay. “What’s that weird glow out there?”

“It is produced by the vessel’s flightshield. The League apparently recently developed technology that would maintain it continuously.”

I didn’t know much about flightshields, only that they encased a ship in a bubble of power that allowed them to jump to light-speed and slip in between space. Then something he’d said registered. “Apparently? You mean you’re not sure?”

“The ship is unlike any the League has produced thus far, and represents a considerable advance in star vessel construction. Xonea’s engineers inform me they will have to disassemble the ship itself in order to ascertain the exact design specifications.”

I was all for chopping it into pieces. Maybe they’d let me watch. “Is it going to let us dock?”

“Yes. We sent a probe and an unmanned launch through first.” Without hesitation, Reever flew right through the yellow glow and into the bay. He scanned the exterior compartment and performed the routine decon procedures before opening the hull doors. Before I could disembark, he took me in his arms.

“Tell me you love me.”

That surprised me. He never asked. “I love you, Duncan.”

“I will not let you go, beloved.”

I felt terrible. Guilty as sin. Because I was going to hold him to that promise.

The
Truman
was evidently the latest and finest development in star vessels that Terra had to offer—only the best for my creator, of course—and its dimensions made it roughly about half the size of the
Perpetua
.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cleaner ship,” I said as we walked down one sterile, empty corridor. The Lok-Teel Reever had sitting on his shoulder was going to have a rough time finding something to eat. “Or a more boring-looking one.”

“You are spoiled by the Jorenians’ penchant for vivid decor,” my husband said as he swept the level ahead of us with a proximity scanner. “Gray is perfectly acceptable as an interior color scheme.”

“They could have used more than one shade of it.” I sniffed the air. All star vessels had a particular odor. The
Sunlace
smelled vaguely floral. The
Perpetua
still reeked faintly of pulse weapon discharge.

But this hulk didn’t smell like anything. Pure oxygen had more of an aroma to it. It was making me really nervous. Could it be that new?

What’s wrong with this thing?

Jenner’s yowl from inside the carrier got my attention. “Do you think it’s okay if I turn him loose now?”

He’d already put down the Lok-Teel, which started climbing up the nearest wall panel, searching in vain for some dirt to eat. “Yes, let him out. He may detect something I cannot.”

“Hey.” I glared at my husband before I bent down to release the carrier door. “He’s not a bloodhound, okay?”

On one of the other ships, Jenner normally would have taken off like a shot. Instead, he sniffed once, then arched his back. Fur bristled. He hissed and tried to climb up the side of my leg.

I’d seen him do it before. “Joe must have been on board sometime before he sent it from Terra. Jenner only acts like this around him.” I picked up my pet and winced as he dug his claws into my shoulder and chest and slammed his head against my chin, over and over. “It’s okay, pal. If nasty old Dr. Grey Veil shows up, Duncan will shoot him in the head.”

Reever reached for a hatch panel. “And if I don’t?”

I took out the syrinpress I’d taken to carrying in my pocket since leaving Catopsa. It pays to be overly prudent where Joe’s concerned. “Then I poison him.”

The panel opened to a cross section, and Reever made a slow sweep with the scanner, from right to left. He stopped about halfway into the left region and held the scanner steady. Before I stepped over the threshold, the sound of footsteps made both of us freeze.

“Who’s that?” I whispered, pressing myself up against a corridor wall.

“It does not show as a life-form on the scanner.” Reever activated his weapon. “Don’t move.”

“I don’t plan to.”

The heavy thuds got closer. Reever hid just around the edge of the hatch opening, waiting, ready to shoot whatever stepped through. I held my breath. Jenner hid his face against my neck.

“Life-forms detected.”

A small, bipedal drone stepped through the hatch and halted between me and Reever. It was about half my size, encased in bright alloy, and had innumerable sensors paving its upper chassis. Vid receptors scanned me, then Jenner, then Reever.

“Welcome to the
Truman
,” it said politely. “Maintenance Unit Nine-Six-One. programmed to assist, How may I serve you?”

“God.” I slumped against the wall and put Jenner down. Now he took off like a shot—away from Nine-Six-One.

Reever scanned the little drone, then powered down his weapon. “Nine-Six-One, are you programmed to commit harm to any life-forms?”

“Negative.”

“That’s not good enough,” I said. There were all kinds of things this drone could do to us that would not be considered harmful to any life-form, and would still incapacitate us.

Reever nodded. “Nine-Six-One, state your program parameters.”

“Caution. Fulfilling this directive will take approximately one hundred, twenty-seven minutes. Digest response is recommended.”

“Please, pick the digest response,” I told Reever. I didn’t want to stand there listening to the damn thing for two hours.

My husband addressed the drone again. “Delay digest response for one quarter stanhour. Escort us to the helm.”

The drone made an abrupt about-face. “Please follow me.”

The helm was in the very center of the vessel, behind a series of protective grids and multiple reinforced corridors.

“Why all the security?” I asked Reever as the drone deactivated yet another bioelectrical grid.

“Control of this vessel was very important to whoever designed it.”

Control. As in who was in. “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“Considering Hsktskt ship-to-ship technology, and the prospect of impending war with the Faction, it is likely a mandatory and standard design application for all new League vessels.”

I wasn’t quite so analytical. “Joe probably has it set up so it can be controlled from a remote ship. That’s the only reason he’d allow that kind of safeguard—if he had a back door in.”

“You are too suspicious.”

I scoffed. “Spend a few years being chased by Joseph Grey Veil, then come talk to me about my paranoia.”

The Command Center was compact and efficient, and acted as the brain for the entire vessel. Controls over all levels and systems were at our fingertips. Only the main computer was offline, waiting to be reinitialized.

Reever sat down at the console, but before he touched the keypad, 1 grabbed his hand.

I had the strongest urge to pull him away from the controls and run all the way back to the launch. “What if you reboot this thing and it decides to fly straight back to Terra?”

“The Jorenians have already downloaded the entire mainframe computer core via the probe we sent in, and have extensively examined the data. There is nothing in it that presents a danger to us.”

“What if they missed something?”

He squeezed my hand. “Then I will be able to see where you grew up.”

“Very funny.”

Reever tapped out the required codes, and an image popped up on the vid screen. It was my creator, Joseph Grey Veil.

“Hello, Cherijo.”

“Damn, I knew it!” I slapped the console with my hand. “He can’t even give me a present without spoiling it.”

Joe smiled. “As you know by now, my daughter, there is nothing that will harm you on this ship.”

“You lie like a floor covering,” I told the image. “And don’t call me your daughter.”

“It is prerecorded, Cherijo,” Reever said.

“I don’t care. He still doesn’t get to call me his daughter.”

Joseph continued. “The
Truman
is the latest and fastest of the new scout ships being designed and built on Terra. There are sufficient supplies and living areas to accommodate you and a maximum of two hundred additional crew members. I hope you and your friends will use it to attain the freedom you seek.”

“He’s being too nice,” I said, stepping away from the console. “There’s definitely a bomb on this ship, or something.”

He wasn’t done, either. “I have taken the liberty of entering a special signal relay program into the mainframe system.” The code appeared briefly below his image. “If you are ever in need of assistance, access the communications array, input this code and a direct relay will be sent to me here on Terra.”

He still expected me to come running to him for help. After everything he’d done to me. The man’s ego knew no bounds. “When pigs fly.”

“Good luck, my dear.” The image vanished.

I wasn’t his dear anything. I turned away from the console, feeling the familiar outrage building inside my chest. “Erase whatever code he put in the computer, Reever.”

“Cherijo—”

“Do it.
Now
.”

CHAPTER THREE

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^
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Endamaged

R
eever had to reinitialize the computers before he could locate and erase the code. I stood there watching until he did. Then he listened to the drone spout a lot of programming directives, while I paced along the length of the helm and brooded.

“I’m hungry, Reever,” I lied. “Let’s go see what kind of food this heap has to offer.” A couple of weeks on Te Abanor with the bat people were starting to look pretty good to me.

The little drone thumped over and put itself in my path. “May I escort you to the galley?”

“Go jump out an air lock,” I said.

Nine-Six-One started to head for the entrance panel, when Reever stopped it and canceled my directive. When I glared at him, he merely raised one blond eyebrow at me.

“We can use the drones,” he said, taking my arm. “And a meal interval would be welcome.”

“When did you get to be so nice?” I said as he guided me out into the corridor. “I don’t remember you being this nice on Catopsa. Or the
Sunlace
. Or K-2.”

He paused to remove the Lok-Teel from the wall panel and put it back on his shoulder. “Would you prefer I return to my previous persona?”

“Which one?”

“You accused me of having many. Corrupt, evil, traitorous, oblivious, inhuman—”

Anyone else would have thought he was serious. But I’d been with him long enough to recognize Duncan’s personal version of humor. “Cute. Very cute. No, you can stick with being nice. I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually.”