The Cold Between (40 page)

“Cut him off,” Elena said, and Valeria did.

“Valeria,” Trey asked, “how badly damaged is your ship?”

“We are not in bad shape, apart from the field generator,” she said. “But even our EMP shielding won't—”

Apart from the field generator.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Elena put in urgently, “you said your generator. What about your stabilizers? If you could get into the field, could you sustain it?”

Valeria said something muffled in dialect, and Elena heard another voice replying. “I am told there is no reason why we could not,” she said, once again in Standard. “You have an idea, Commander Shaw.”

Elena looked over at Trey. “
Galileo
can generate a field strong enough to pull
Penumbra
in with her,” she told him.
If we can get Will out of the way.
“We've got to get through to Jessica.”

“We have an incoming comm,” Trey told her. “It's . . . on a very odd ident. Encrypted.”

Immediately Elena accepted the signal. “Jess? Is that you?”

“Fucking Christ, Lanie, do you have any idea what's going on over here?”

Elena almost laughed with joy. “Absolutely not,” she said, “beyond Will not listening. What have you got?”

“He's not just not listening, he's out of his fucking mind. We've been ordered to take
Penumbra.
Commander Broadmoor sent a message to Admiral Herrod with more recent intel, and now she's in the brig. I've got people in engineering trying to hold our fire until Herrod gets back to us, but the
Demeter
crew is in charge. We won't be able to stall for long.”

“I need to get through to Ted,” Elena told her, and gave her a quick explanation of
Penumbra
's situation.

“He's holding off Limonov,” Jessica said. “I can't comm him; they'd find me.”

“Find you?” Elena frowned. “Why are you hiding?”

“Too long a story.” Elena heard footsteps; Jessica was moving. “I'm going to try to get to engineering and talk to Ted myself. How much time do we have?”

“Four minutes and fifty-three seconds,” Trey said.

“Perfect!” Jessica said. “Tons of time. I'll just sneak past every fucking guard on the ship in four minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

“Four minutes and forty-five seconds,” Trey said.

“I fucking hate countdowns,” Jessica muttered, and kept running.

Galileo

J
essica ran through the maintenance corridors toward engineering. All she knew of what was going on was that they hadn't fired. She hoped Valentis hadn't given the order yet, and that Ted hadn't had to start stalling. If Limonov had discovered
Galileo
's people were stonewalling, she would likely find the machine room full of
Demeter
's security people. For a fleeting moment she thought of comming Ted directly—if Valentis was still monitoring her, surely he had other things to worry about just now—but there was still a possibility stealth would help her. Time limits notwithstanding, she needed to evaluate the situation before she tipped her hand.

They're alive,
she thought, and in spite of her frantic pace, she felt a wave of euphoria.

She came to the access stairway under engineering and crept quietly up to the doorway, pressing herself against the shadowed walls. She saw
Galileo
's people first, calmly at their stations. Not arrested, then; that was good news. She heard Ted's voice before she saw him, and she listened before risking a glance around the corner.

Limonov stood over Ted, glowering. Despite his slighter build, his professional scowl made him seem bigger than thick-necked Ted, whose skin had gone blotchy as he lied to Limonov's face.

“We rushed out of Aleph, sir,” he was explaining. “Normally we do a full maintenance sweep, but when we picked up
Demeter
's cargo we cut that short. Commander Shaw had to cut some corners.”

Oh, Teddy, she'll get you for that,
Jessica thought.

“You expect me to believe your redundant systems are off-line as well?” Limonov snapped. Jessica didn't think the man was deceived.

“They're coming on-line,” Ted assured him. “They're just taking a little time to warm up. A few more minutes—”

Limonov straightened and turned away, dismissing Ted. “Lieutenant Toyo,” he said to one of the
Demeter
engineers, “bring up the targeting system and await orders to fire on
Penumbra.
”

Oh, hell.
She was out of time. She ran out of her hiding place, and said, “Wait!”

Limonov's head turned, and his hollow eyes widened when he saw her. “Lieutenant Lockwood. You're aware your captain is looking for you, aren't you?”

“He's not my captain,” she told him. “And he's not yours, either. Listen to me, Commander Limonov. Everything you told me, everything you said about the wormhole—you were right. It's the truth. Tune into the stream.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Toyo touch his comm and say something. Calling security, no doubt. At least the bas
tard wasn't firing. Before her, Limonov was frowning, his face still a mask of military irritation; but she thought she saw his eyes shift, and one of his fists was clenched. “We don't have time for the stream, Lieutenant. In case you missed something, we're in the middle of a war.”

“Not yet we're not,” she said decisively, “and it won't matter if we start this if we don't get out of here. You were right about the
Phoenix,
Commander. Please, tune it in. Just for a moment.”

He stared at her, and this time she was sure of it: a flash in his expression, hope, fear, desperation. For interminable seconds he stared at her, and then he said, “
Galileo,
give me the stream.”

Internal comms came on, and the priority message echoed through the machine room. When Elena's voice said
ten thousand kilometers,
everyone but Limonov began to shift nervously.
Yes, you fucking idiots,
she thought, furious,
we do need to get the fuck out of here.
Limonov stared at her, unmoving, and she saw his fist unclench.

“That's your chief,” he said.

“Yes.”

“She's a traitor.”

“I'll talk to him,” Elena said in her ear, “if it would help.”

“Just a minute,” Jessica said to her. She took a step toward Limonov. “She's not, sir,” she said, lowering her voice. “She's done all of this because she wanted to find out why Danny was killed. You were right about me, that I didn't like him. But she loved him. For a long time, she loved him, and if you talked to him you know he loved her, too.”

Limonov looked at her, and she could see him weighing her words. “Can she hear me?” he said at last.

Jessica nodded.

“Commander Shaw. You came out of the wormhole.”

Elena spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear. “We did.”

“Did you hear it? The singing?”

Jessica had no idea if Elena knew what he was talking about, but she rolled with it. “Yes, Commander. We heard it.”

“It did not destroy you.”

Jessica heard a note of desperation creep into her friend's voice. “It will destroy all of us, Commander, if we do not start moving. This war you've been tasked to start—it's a lie, Commander Limonov. It's an excuse used to hide what's happening here. But there will be no war, Commander—no war, no peace, no
nothing
—for any of us if you don't stand down.”

Behind her, Jessica heard the machine room door open, and the familiar rhythm of booted footsteps.
Shit.
She turned to see six infantry—
six, just for me?
—all aiming their weapons at her and, by extension, Limonov. The
Demeter
officer frowned at them. “You wouldn't actually fire in the engine room, would you?” he asked.

It wasn't Henare in charge. It was Bristol, older and steadier, far less likely to be swayed either by Jessica's temper or by Ted's charm. “Lieutenant Lockwood,” he said formally, ignoring Limonov, “you're under arrest. Please come with us.”

“Wait,” Limonov said. He reached out, and from the master panel he shut down the weapons banks.

The room filled with the sound of shouting and objections. Jessica, despite the pulse rifles aimed at her, closed her eyes in relief.
No war today,
she thought, but that was only half the problem.

Elena had seen the weapons go dark. “Ted, are you there? We need to—”

“Uh,” Ted said, his eyes on the infantry, “we've still got a small problem here, Elena. There seem to be some people here to arrest us.”

Which seemed to snap her friend's last nerve. “Who is it?” Elena said crisply.

“Bristol,” Jessica said, “and his usual crew.”

“Bristol, do you hear me?”

Bristol was still aiming his weapon, but Jessica could see in his eyes the conflict. Elena was supposed to be a traitor, but she was a superior officer. At last he said, “Yes, ma'am.”

“What are you doing in my machine room?”

“Captain Valentis's orders, ma'am. We're arresting Lieutenant Lockwood.”

“Rubbish,” Elena said crisply. “Valentis isn't captain. Foster is here with me.”

And damned if the nose of his gun didn't waver. “Begging your pardon, ma'am, but why isn't he telling us this?”

Jessica heard some scrambling on the other end, and then she heard a familiar voice—faint, ragged, frighteningly weak—say “Bristol. Stand down. That's an order.”

He really was alive. She wanted to shout.

Bristol seemed less enthusiastic. “You could have made that up, Chief. My orders are clear. I'm to—”

And there went Elena's temper. “Now listen here, you thickheaded, slow-witted bastard. You want to follow orders? Fine. I'm a traitor. Blow us out of the sky. But when you're done, you grab
Penumbra
and you get the fuck out of there as fast as you can, do you hear me? Because if you keep interfering and get my
ship destroyed, I swear to any and all gods you may believe in, I will find you in your sorry afterlife and I will make every instant of your existence hell and torment for fucking eternity. Have I made myself clear, soldier?”

It was almost amusing, watching it play out on Bristol's face. Valentis. Foster. The threat of hell and torment. It took him less than two seconds to drop the nose of his rifle. “Captain's orders,” he said to his team. “Stand down.”

Jessica checked the time: two minutes and three seconds left.

Interstitial

O
n some level, Greg was aware of agonizing pain, but he felt as if he were next to his body, experiencing the pain as echoes, as waves radiating from the inside out. He felt strangely alert, aware of what was happening; but there were jumps in words and actions, and he knew he was missing things. Blacking out, probably, although he had no sense of time passing. Elena had come to him—moments ago? hours?—and said, “Bristol's in engineering trying to arrest Jessica.” Greg had ordered Bristol off, and the effort of speech had knocked him out again.

He could hear Elena talking to Ted, planning to fold
Galileo
's FTL field around
Penumbra
so they could all get away together. “That's theoretical, you know,” he tried to say, but he didn't think any sound came out. Well, never mind. She knew it was theoretical. If ever there was a time for a field test, this was it.

“. . . close are we to
Penumbra
?” Elena was asking.

“We will reach her,” Zajec said, “but we will not have time to slow down.”

That, Greg knew, wouldn't stop Elena. He thought of her takeoff from Volhynia, how easily she had shaken the trackers.
She'd land them at speed, and slam on the brakes, and with a little help from the physics gods they wouldn't become paste against the hangar's back wall. Such landings were the stuff of bullshit Academy stunt flying, usually ending with someone's shuttle in very small pieces, occasionally taking the pilot with it; but when someone pulled it off, they had bragging rights for months.

He supposed she had done it dozens of times. What he would have given to know her back then.

Another blink. He heard Elena say “Twenty seconds.”

Greg heard a proximity alert; they were close to
Penumbra.
Another odd time flash, and his mind replayed the alert from the
Phoenix
recording:
Please evacuate the area.
He let the countdown continue in his head, uncertain of how accurate it was, quite sure it did not matter.

Ten seconds.
The light in the cabin began to glow red: heat from their external shielding, as they hit the overlap of
Penumbra
's.

Nine.
He felt a lurch of disorientation as the gravity field averaged and recalibrated, shifting him toward one side of the ship.

Eight.
The red light gave way to yellow artificial ship light;
Penumbra
had swallowed them.

Seven.
He suddenly felt the pull of acceleration, and he wondered how close they were to the wall.

Six.
Elena threw the engines into reverse, and he heard a groan and a snap as they almost instantly failed. He heard her curse, and his weak fingers clutched the edge of the couch, waiting for impact—

Five.
—and his stomach lurched as the ship slowed as if confined by a slingshot.

Four.
Abruptly their motion stopped, and he was thrown to the floor, and the pain that had been hitting him in distant waves became acute and immediate.

Three.
He craned his neck to look out the window, and saw the familiar glow of the field, so much weaker than he was used to. The stars began to disappear in the growing light.

Two.
No polarizer, he remembered, and turned his face away, closing his eyes.

One.
He heard the ship's stabilizers revving up, and wondered what his father would do if he died.

There was a flash that filled the cabin, bringing daylight behind his closed eyes, and everything inside him dropped into blackness.