Dark Beneath the Moon (22 page)

“So what do you make of that? Anyone?”

“It’s got to be a security measure,” Hirin insisted. “Yuskeya, can you get a reading on that spike I thought was pointing in this direction?”

She huffed. “Like that’s necessary. You know you’re right about this, Hirin.”

He grinned. “I know, but make an old man happy and confirm it, would you?”

I rolled my eyes. All this joking around was getting on my nerves. We were in deep trouble here, couldn’t they see that?

After a few seconds, Yuskeya glanced up from the screen. “
Konfirmi
. The spike is trained on the center of the wormhole.”

“So let’s get out of the direct line of fire, shall we?” Baden asked, an uneasy edge to his voice. “Those spikes appear to mean business. Of what kind, I’m not sure, but definitely not a kind I want to intercept.”

“Another radiation signature detected, Captain. Another wormhole.”

“Of course it is,” I grumbled, wiping my palms down the sides of my jeans. “And what’s in front of this one? Let me guess. Another asteroid field?”

We circuited the system, finding in all nine wormholes to correspond with nine large spikes on the station. Every wormhole entrance was guarded by an asteroid field—the field itself seemingly contained within static boundaries, while the asteroids moved normally within it. We weren’t scanned again, and no other vessels appeared. The station remained silent except for that one solitary scan.

“Viss,” I said finally, brushing a droplet of sweat from above my lips, “is there something in this system that’s causing the heat in the ship to go so high? Or is there a problem with the environmentals?”

“I—don’t think so, Captain.” There was a pause, while he presumably checked readings. “I don’t find it unusually warm down here.”

“Me neither,” Maja said. “Mother, are you all right?”

“Fine,” I said shortly. “Maybe I’m concentrating too hard.”

“It’s probably quite possible to chart a safe course through one of those asteroid fields, provided you didn’t have to do it in a hurry,” Hirin said, from one of the unmanned bridge boards he’d commandeered to, as he put it, “work something out.” “Rei and Luta got us through one, and they had no time to prepare at all. Granted that they’re the two best pilots in Nearspace,” he added, “but even so . . .”

“Dad, you aren’t suggesting we try to go through one?” Maja asked. “We don’t have a clue where any of them go!”

“Not true,” Hirin answered. “We know that one of them goes one skip away from Nearspace. Who’s to say that more of them aren’t that close? Or possibly right into a Nearspace system? It’s not like every square kilometer of Nearspace has been explored. We could be closer to home than we think.”

“Hirin,” I said, “I think it’s pretty clear that someone or something has gone to great trouble to make it difficult to get through these wormholes. I’d at least like to know who and why before we try to go through one. Let’s not forget those spikes that make Baden so nervous.”

He, and Maja too, I noticed, turned to me with surprise evident on their faces. “What? Do you think I have to agree with every damned thing you say, just because we’re married?”

“Mother? Why are you yelling?”

“I’m not yelling!” I had to take a deep gulp of air, because it was so hot on the bridge I felt like I might suffocate.

“What do you suggest, then, Luta?” Hirin said in a deceptively mild voice. I knew he must have something planned.

“These alien
bastardos
, whoever they are, are responsible for this mess. I guess they like playing god, controlling who goes where and when.” I flung myself into the chair. “Well, I’m tired of playing their games.” The insistent, escalating pounding in my head was driving me forward. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn’t know why we’d been pussyfooting around all this time. I wanted answers.

“We’re going to go and make contact with whoever is in that station,” I said. “And we’re going to do it now. Rei, turn this thing around and take us to the station. Engage the burst drive.”

“Luta? Are you all right?” Hirin stood now from the board he’d been using and crossed to me. I jumped up from the chair and stood in front of it, arms crossed as if I were guarding it. I wondered vaguely why I’d done that. Hirin’s expression held the same question.

“I’m
fine
,” I said impatiently. “I have a headache and it feels like the inside of a supernova in here. Viss, check those temperature controls again!”

“Uh, sure, Captain,” he said. “I think they’re within normal range, though.”

“Just check the damn things.”

Rei had followed my orders and brought the ship about, turning us to head toward the dark, gelatinous-looking alien station. The ship lurched slightly as the burst drive kicked in, and I stumbled a little. Hirin reached out to catch me, and I slapped his hand away, ignoring his bewildered exclamation.

“Rei, don’t stray into the direct line of sight between any of those spikes and the wormholes. Baden’s right, they could be dangerous. Baden, when we get within five hundred clicks, send out the standard Nearspace hailing message on all frequencies. We’ll see if anyone’s home on that disgusting piece of space garbage.”

I caught a silent communication pass between Hirin and Yuskeya. I realized everyone else except Rei had also turned to stare at me.

“What? Keep your eyes on your boards! We don’t know what these
ansulos
could be planning.”

They continued to stare at me.

“Luta, you’re tired out,” Hirin said finally. “Why don’t you come down to our quarters and have a rest?” He put a hand on my arm, and his flesh felt shockingly cold.

I jerked away from his touch. “Right, so you can take over? You want to play captain? I don’t think so, old man.”

Yuskeya had left the navigation board. “Captain, is your headache worse? You should have told me, I can give you something for it. Come into First Aid, and we’ll try something else,
okej
?”

“Those shots!” I stared at her with sudden realization and hatred. “That’s what’s making me feel like this. You did something,
megero
, put something in those shots—and I suppose everyone knows about it, do you? I can feel it! You’re all against me!”

A tiny, faraway part of my brain was telling me that I was shouting, asking me why I was shouting, and why would I call Yuskeya such a horrible name? But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “And why is it so goddamned
hot in here
?”

That’s when my legs buckled. Sparks obscured my vision like stars going supernova in a distant galaxy. Arms held me, voices babbled around me, but they were all faint and far away and I felt myself slipping, slipping into a darkness where there were no alien artifacts, no mysterious wormholes, no fearsome space stations. Where it was soft, and quiet, and blessedly, blessedly cool.

MY PRISON CELL
on the
Tane Ikai
was a surprisingly comfortable room—with a well-locked door. As far as the crew knew, I was effectively cut off from the rest of the ship. Fine. If they wanted to shut me up and forget about me, that meant they wouldn’t spend too much time wondering how I spent mine.

But when I’d politely commed Captain Paixon and asked to be brought into the loop, she’d cut me off rudely and abruptly without a word of explanation.

Even before that, I’d connected my datapad (and thus, Pita) to the computer console in my room, and Pita had gone to work to reconnect to the network. They hadn’t broken a physical connection, only a digital one. I felt pretty confident that Pita would be able to crack that. They weren’t expecting me to have anything like her.

When Paixon had refused to talk to me, I asked Pita, “Can you at least bypass the comm lockout so I can listen in on the bridge?” I had minuscule earbuds and a throat touch mic so that I could subvocalize and she’d hear me, and her responses were for my ears alone.

Her answer sounded clearly inside my head. She chuckled. “We’re still locked out of full network access, but I think I can get you audio. Give me a few minutes, and we’ll be in.”

Moments later, when the bridge feed came online, I was surprised to hear Luta Paixon say in a trembling and enraged voice, “
You did something,
megero
, put something in those shots—and I suppose everyone knows about it, do you? I can feel it! You’re all against me! And why is it so goddamned
hot in here
?”

I barely had time to wonder who she’d called a bitch when all hell seemed to break loose on the bridge.

“Catch her!” That was Baden Methyr’s voice.

“Luta!” another man shouted. Her husband, I figured. I hadn’t seen him yet, but I knew all the names from the crew manifesto for the
Tane Ikai
well enough. He was in his nineties, so I decided to call him Gramps. A jumble of bumping and thumping came over the feed, so either a fight had broken out or she’d collapsed and people ran to help.

“Get her into First Aid,” a woman said. She had a commanding tone that I recognized, the Protectorate officer—Yuskeya Blue. She’d at least been polite and professional—even if she regarded me with a disapproving eye—when she installed me in my quarters.

“What’s wrong with her? Headaches again?” another female voice demanded. The pilot this time, I thought, or maybe Paixon’s daughter. “Something’s seriously wrong. Who goes crazy and passes out from a headache?”

More babble and urgent discussion bubbled into my brain from the feed, but as eager as I’d been to eavesdrop, it all faded and blurred into a wash of background noise. My mind replaced it with memories of another woman, increasingly prone to headaches, fits of inexplicable anger, sudden nosebleeds, and finding every room too hot.

“Jahelia,
por la amo de Dio,
will you open the window?” My mother rubbed at her greying temples with the knuckles of two clenched fists.

“They’re all open, Mamma.” I knew I sounded cranky and short with her, but I couldn’t help it. Every window in the cramped apartment had been thrown open to the cool night air, and I was freezing. I’d already layered on an extra long-sleeved shirt and a sweater, and slipped on my shoes. And still my mother complained.

She turned a flushed face to me, wide eyes black and dilated beneath a furrowed brow. “And you, with that sweater! I feel too hot just looking at you!”

“Then don’t look at me!”

“Such disrespect! I raised you better than that, Lia!”

I pressed my lips together, smothering more angry words. “Would you like some cold water?” I reached to pick up the half-empty glass on the scratched wooden table at my mother’s elbow.

Mamma grabbed for it. “Don’t take that! You’re always taking my things!” In her haste, she knocked the glass out of my hand. It crashed to the floor and shattered, spattering shards and water all over the floor.

“Now see what you’ve done!” Mamma jumped from the chair, heedless of the broken glass under her bare feet. Then she screamed in pain as the shards bit into her flesh. She took one step toward me and crumpled to the floor, unconscious. One outflung arm sprawled into the puddle of water and sparkling fragments.

I stood staring down at her for a long moment, pulling deep, quick breaths as I fought for the strength to control my own anger. That worried me. Were my own nanos failing? Was that the explanation for the fleeting urge, quickly suppressed, to kick the senseless woman on the floor?
No
, I told myself, blowing out a long breath.
I’m frustrated
.
Tired. Sad. Anyone would feel this way. There’s nothing wrong with me except stress.

I went to the tiny kitchen for cloths to mop up the mess and returned, kneeling beside my mother. With a guilty start, I thought to check Mamma’s pulse and breathing. Both fine. Just another fit from which she would awake in half an hour or so, feeling much better and utterly bewildered by the cuts on her feet.

Where would it end? I wondered as I mopped up the spilled water and carefully gathered the bits of broken glass. I had to roll her over to get it all cleaned up, but even that didn’t rouse her. It had seemed like the move to Jertenda would turn things around for us. Dad had sworn to quit gambling, and had managed, with a false name and forged credentials, to gain a position working for Nicadico Corp on their new anti-aging treatment, Longate. He seemed happier than he’d been in a long time, working in a lab again. The money wasn’t great yet, but if the treatment worked, the researchers had been promised a healthy share of the profits.

I finished with the broken glass and fetched the first aid kit from the washroom. Trying to be gentle even if she couldn’t feel it, I teased bits of glass from Mamma’s feet, applied ointment, and bandaged them. I briefly wished Dad would get home in time to help struggle Mamma into bed. He claimed to be working long hours at the lab, but I suspected he was gambling again. I couldn’t imagine where the money was coming from; at least he continued to turn over his pay to me so I could cover the rent and buy food. Maybe he was taking bribes at the lab. It wouldn’t be the first time.