Aftermath (15 page)

My sobs, when they tear free, wrack me from head to toe. He draws me to him, all smooth chitin, cool and hard to the touch. There should be no solace in it, but there is because he’s Vel, and he took my pain for his own. Now he must live with the knowledge he harmed someone he cares about—and that’s not lightly done for one who lives as long as he. I respect his bravery and fortitude more than ever.

For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.

But he did, and it helped, and I weep in his arms, as though all the light in the world has died.

 

I saw that you’re a free woman now. I’d congratulate you, but I expected this outcome, or I’d have never left, not even for my nephew.

Tomorrow we arrive at Nicu Tertius, but that’s only the beginning. There are seven state homes, and four are designated for Psi training. They’re all in different cities, and my problem is compounded by not knowing the boy’s name. If they left Svetlana attached to his file as birth mother, that will simplify matters, but Farwan is notorious for excising such information to prevent Psi from wondering about their pasts. I can ask for a genetic search, as his markers should be fairly similar to mine, but that will take time, and it’s hard to restrain my patience, particularly after this long haul.

I wouldn’t admit this to anyone but you, but I’m afraid of what will happen to me when we land on Nicu. It’s illogical, but I fear an instant regression to the monster I was before. The jungles on this world hold more ghosts than anyone could imagine; I killed so many men here, and they didn’t even get a proper service. We left them wherever they fell, so their bones just worked their way down into the mud.

Right now, I wish I’d stayed because I want you at my side. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t mean it that way. You just never needed me that way; I said it to you once as I was leaving—that you love me, but you don’t need me. You don’t lean. But I admire that about you, and I could use some of your strength right now.

Thinking of you. Love you still and always.

 

 

 

 

Free
is a relative term. I’m no longer incarcerated, but I’m not my own woman, either. I’m obligated to set things right before I go. I mean, it’s not a sentence or anything; though it might have been if I hadn’t volunteered. I’ve been at the training academy in Ocklind for months now. This is the longest I’ve ever been dirtside, and it’s hellish.

I used to dream of Doc and Evie, and how they died down on Venice Minor, but now I dream of grimspace. There’s an ache in my bones as if I’m dying by millimeters each day I spend on this planet. I don’t know how people live like this. I met a girl once who didn’t attend school; she spent her whole life on ships. She was educated by AIs like Constance, and that sounded like the best thing in the universe to me. Imagine the wonders she saw, every single day. But she told me she just felt trapped on that ship and unable to form lasting relationships. It’s so strange how one person’s heaven is another’s hell.

Things are progressing well enough here. Soon I’ll have a complete team of teachers, and I can go on my way. Our graduates are already making their way onto the Star Road to get the shipping lanes moving at normal speed again. I feel for the colonies that are withering because of the slow supply shipments. I did that. But I can’t help wondering when it all ends. You said I’m strong, and that I don’t lean, but if you were here, I’d tip my head against your chest. How much must I give before we can be together? I live for the day when we can fly away into uncharted space, away from the paparazzi and the rumors and speculation. I don’t want to be famous—or maybe that should be infamous—anymore.

Mary, I miss you. And don’t worry, you’re not going to fall back into old patterns. I can say that with complete certainty because you’d never do anything to hurt your nephew. You’ll do whatever it takes to find him and see him safe. I know you.

Love and miss you always.

 

Six months along, and we’ve trained the backlog of
jumpers. Now we just have raw recruits coming in from the new tier worlds. But I’ve put a crew of teachers in place, and they know what they’re doing. It’s almost time for me to move along.

Thank Mary. I don’t want to be doing this, but I believe in cleaning up my own messes, and this one is colossal.

I’ve agonized over my decision. Part of me wants to see March more than anything, but we have separate purposes. He doesn’t need me hanging around while he searches for his nephew, and I have my own agenda. So with profound regret, I decide I need to take care of my business while he does the same. Hopefully, our paths will realign soon.

To my great satisfaction, the training facility runs smoothly these days, and I don’t need to stick around forever. Ships are jumping again, which is the most important thing. I just have one more thing to do; that’s why I’m heading for a panel of doctors and scientists, none of whom I know personally, but they all have a reputation for cutting-edge developments. The room is already full when I arrive, and a sea of expectant faces turn toward me. Some are old, others young, but all bear a fascinated expression as I launch into my explanation of why we’re here.

“How many of you are familiar with NBS?”

Navigator Burnout Syndrome—the number one reason why my job is so dangerous.
But it’s not a problem for me anymore. Seventy-five percent of them raise their hands, which means I have to explain for those who don’t. That takes five minutes. Once I’m sure they’re all with me, I continue, “Before his death, Dr. Solaith devised a gene- therapy treatment that eradicates the danger of NBS. I realize you’ll want to study his method and his results before you begin trials, so I am forwarding all of his research to your handhelds . . . right now.”

As one, they turn to their devices, skimming through what Doc did to me. A murmur goes through the collected scientists as they realize I’ve been injected without all the preliminary studies. I can tell they don’t approve of his methods; they think he was something of a barbarian for taking such chances. Since he’s not around to defend himself, however, they don’t speak the condemnations aloud. Just as well for them because I’d take them all off at the knees if they dared.

“There will be Conglomerate grants for research in this area . . . and I suspect I don’t need to tell you how much money would be involved for the team that patents the NBS vaccine. Shipping companies alone would pay millions of credits for better longevity in their jumpers. Any questions?”

For ten more minutes, I field some basic queries before the scientists stream out, most eager to begin digging into Doc’s fieldwork. The knowledge is all there, waiting for the right team to develop into a universal vaccine. Right now, the only handicap is that each treatment must be tailored to the patient’s unique genetic code, which worked for Argus and me in small scale but would be utterly inefficient for every jumper in the universe. They need to refine it somehow, so that it works on whoever takes it, but I’ve given them the tools to figure it out, and in my lifetime, I fully believe we will see a cure for NBS.

“That went well,” Vel says.

I meet him in the hallway. I’m tired of this place. But by the cant of his head, I know he doesn’t bear good tidings. “What’s up?”

“The civil suits have begun.”

I can’t say I’m surprised. Ramona left me a fortune, and the families who lost children because of me want some form of recompense. They’ll ask some incredible amount, and the judges will likely pare it down before demanding I pay up. It’s not that I mind giving them the credits, but on some level, I feel as though they’re cheapening their loss. I shouldn’t be able to buy expiation as though it were an indulgence sold by a corrupt priest. They can take everything I inherited, and it won’t touch the stain on my conscience.

“How much?”

He names a sum that would’ve made me dizzy once. But since I received Ramona’s empire, my sense of scale has ratcheted up. I nod. “I don’t want to contest. Just settle with them.”

“That will encourage the others to apply for their shares.”

“I don’t care,” I say simply. “I never wanted her credits, knowing how she earned them. If I run cash poor, there are assets we can sell off.”

Vel has been acting as my business manager. Given his long life span, he has a personal fortune that rivals my mother’s, so if anyone knows what to do with extra credits, it’s him. He’s managed to squirrel away certain of my dividends into untouchable, interest-bearing accounts, so I’ll never be completely destitute even if I give away most of my wealth.

“What would you like to liquidate first?”

Right now nobody will buy the devastated land on Venice Minor, which leaves the mining colony on the asteroid Dobrinya, and part of a moon. I don’t know what mineral resources the moon might possess; as yet, it’s undeveloped.

“Dobrinya,” I decide aloud. “Uranium is worth a good deal in today’s market.”

“Noted. I’ll start seeking offers.”

By the time it’s necessary, he will have identified the most advantageous deal.

As we walk, he taps on his handheld, authorizing the civil settlement. I chafe at the obligation to wrap up all the loose ends here, but I have five more meetings today, setting up a hierarchy in the training program. Someone has to take responsibility after I’m gone, as I am damn sure not spending my life
here
.

“Have you found a ship?”

We plan to leave for Gehenna as soon as possible. Realistically speaking, it will be another week before I can break away, but I want all the pieces in place before I make my escape.

“Dina found one that the owner was ready to scrap, so we got it for a bargain.”

I nod. “She prefers to do all her own maintenance anyway.”

It’s not like she would trust a brand-new ship. She would still go over every millimeter of it, and replace half the parts with her own mods. I must admit, I rather love seeing what she can do with a vessel everyone else has given up on. In fact, maybe that’s why she sticks by me.

“I would not fly on it were anyone else doing the restoration.” He bestows the highest of compliments, there.

“How big is it?”

“It will take eight people, comfortably. Not including pilot and jumper.”

“Small crew quarters, I take it?”

“Miniscule.”

“Then it’s just as well we won’t be on it long.”

Mary, but I’m dying to jump. It feels like I’ve been grounded forever, and I am losing my mind slowly. It was bad in prison, but there, I knew I had no choice. So I sublimated my need in constant exercise. Here, I function as the school administrator, and I have no outlet for the junkie cravings boiling in my brain. I long to travel to Marakeq and try to make right the damage I’ve done. Perhaps I never can, but I will think less of myself if I don’t try, and I need every scrap of self-esteem these days.

Every day, waking up feels like I’m strapping on lead boots and daring myself not to sink beneath the dark, dark water. I run in place, and I pretend, but it’s not getting better. Only time will do that, at least according to Vel. He says it like a promise, so I live for the day, maybe fifty turns from now, when I don’t feel sick over what I’ve done.

Gehenna first, though. Vel and I have unfinished business there. He will want to visit Adele—as the last time, she said he’d see her again—and I need to hire Doc’s old friend, Ordo Carvati. There’s a certain symmetry in that. While we tend to those matters, Hit and Dina can go for the open markets and the leashed wildness of life inside the dome. Gehenna was the only place where I ever lived for myself, like a normal person, and therefore, it will always hold a special spot in my heart.

“I will see you later, Sirantha. I have many irons in the fire.”

I have to chuckle at Vel’s attempt to speak colloquially; he always does so with such formality. After watching him go, I rush through the rest of my meetings, and at night, I run instead of sleep, but the memories are always nipping at my heels. In the silence, I wonder how much longer I can continue without breaking. But escape will help; grimspace will welcome me home, no matter what.

A week later, I resign my place at the training facility and turn it over, gladly, to my successor. There is no fanfare when I walk away from New Terra, when I climb the ramp and run toward the cockpit. The stars await me with their cool auras and their nonjudgmental light. As the world falls away behind me, I settle into the nav chair, with Hit beside me. Since we have flown together before, I have no fear of her.

This feels like coming home.

This world fades into beautiful darkness, just nothing
and more nothing.

I welcome the black because it means I’m only a whisper away from my first jump in long, long months. Hit jacks in beside me, and she’s mentally disciplined as only a trained killer can be. A whisper of respect filters from her, but that’s all she gives me; everything else belongs to Dina—and that’s how it ought to be.

The phase drive powers up smoothly, hardly shaking the ship at all despite its small size, which means Dina has been hard at work. I gather she’s already installed the mod that permits direct jumps because I feel the cations firing in my veins in response to the ones in the nav com. The ship mind is brand-new, nascent and curious. I let it get to know me as we prepare to make the leap.

With a small shiver, we pass from straight space into the maelstrom. Grimspace blazes in my mind, full of lovely, chaotic colors. The stars have gone, but the ancients left beacons in their place, the ones I reprogrammed at such great cost. They echo with me now, giving a whisper of Jax to eternity, and that knowledge humbles me. Countless eons from now, I will remain, my heartbeat as part of the navigation system for societies I cannot conceive.