Eternity's End (3 page)

With a shriek, the ship lurched out of control and careened sideways toward the deadly Chimney wall.

Chapter 2

Inquest

The RiggerGuild hearing room was dead silent.

Its domed ceiling was coated with a multi-optic laminate that made it glitter like stars against darkness. Legroeder let his gaze wander along the ceiling, and for an instant the stars were transformed into the luminous features of the Flux.

Skidding toward the Chimney wall, pulsing with light: pockets of quantum chaos, where images could distort without warning. The ship plummeted through, and suddenly the landscape was strobing with stark reversals of light and contour. Behind him was the sparkle of weapons fire. Before his heart could beat twice, a spread of flux-torpedoes exploded, triggering a cascade of distortions that sent his ship spinning
...

The holograms of the three panelists sat at the curved table at the front of the room. Legroeder sat with his young, Guild-appointed counsel, a Mr. Kalm-Lieu, facing the panel from a smaller curved table at the center of the room. Despite the expansive design, the room was designed to keep the inquest panel and its subjects rigidly separated. Only Legroeder and Kalm-Lieu were physically present.

From the front bench, the holo of the RiggerGuild inquest chairwoman was speaking. Her voice seemed hollow, devoid of inflection. Legroeder couldn't remember her name, had never met her in person. "Rigger Legroeder, please remember that there are no charges being considered in this hearing. Our purpose is not to determine guilt or innocence, but rather to determine if you should be represented in this matter by the Guild of Riggers. We hope you understand the distinction."

Legroeder shrugged in disbelief, staring up at the dome...

The pocket of Flux-abscess turned itself inside out with the torpedo blast, hurling him into a sudden opening that he felt rather than saw, a breach caused by the blast. Steering by an intuition that seemed almost supernatural in its accuracy, he threaded his way through... and by the time he caught his breath he was coasting free in the open Flux, well away from the Chimney, away from the raider outpost, and apparently free of pursuit
.

Spying a current leading away from that place, he rode it for a long time, until he could decide on a destination world. The choice in the end was made for him; there was only one major world within his reach that was free of pirate influence: Faber Eridani, well beyond the borders of Golen Space. Not an easy flight in a small ship; but if he wanted to be free, really free, he had no choice but to risk the distance. Checking frequently on Maris, still in near-stasis in the suppression-field, he rigged their ship toward a new life and new hope for both of them. Toward the protection of the Centrist Worlds and the RiggerGuild, their own people
...

Legroeder trembled with anger. He avoided looking at the inquest panelists. To have escaped from the raiders and gotten Maris to a hospital here, only to be put on trial for collaborating with pirates in his own capture? It was impossible! Who would have believed it?

"Counsel, may we take that as a yes?" asked the voice of the inquest chair.

Kalm-Lieu glanced uneasily at Legroeder. "Yes, Ma'am."

"In that case, Rigger Legroeder, we will put the question to you again. Please describe your actions, seven years ago, leading up to the taking of
Ciudad de los Angeles
by the Golen Space pirates."

Legroeder felt as if he were standing outside of his own skin, watching himself—a small, olive-skinned man with gloomy eyes, trying to comprehend the trap he was caught in. He sighed and rubbed his temples, forcing himself to suppress that image.

"Let me understand," he said slowly. "I've just escaped from forced servitude with interstellar pirates, and I've come to you for sanctuary and offered to tell you everything I know about the pirates' operations. But all you care about is what happened when my ship was
attacked
seven years ago—and whether you can pin something on me for it?"

"Not at all, Rigger Legroeder. But we must have the facts before us."

"Including facts about the ghost ship? About
Impris?
"

The voice of the court inclined her virtual head. "You may describe your capture in whatever way you feel is appropriate. Now, if you please..."

Legroeder closed his eyes, summoning the events of seven years before. The beginning of the nightmare...

The
Ciudad de los Angeles
was a passenger/cargo liner, a good ship carrying a modest but respectable manifest of fifty-two passengers and twenty-four crewmembers, including the rigging complement of seven. Legroeder was among the more seasoned of the riggers, three of whom were stationed in the net at any given time. Legroeder's specialty was the stern-rigger station, the anchor; he was to be the maintainer of good grounding and common sense, especially if the lead and keel riggers became carried away with the imagery of the Flux. He was known as a rigger with a dark outlook, but solid reliability.

Ciudad de los Angeles
was en route to Varinorum Prime—a little close to the edge of Golen Space, but on a route considered fairly safe from pirate attack. It was Legroeder who first sighted the other ship in the Flux, flickering into view off to the portside of the
L.A
. It appeared to be on a course parallel to theirs. The sighting of any other ship in the Flux was such a rare event that the image was branded on his memory: the ship long and pale and silver, like a whale gliding slowly through the mists of the Flux. He didn't just see it, but heard it: the soft hooting of a distress signal so thin and distant as to be nearly inaudible.

Take a look off to the left, and tell me if you see what I see,
he said, alerting his rigger-mates to the sighting. He strained to get a better reading on the distress signal. He couldn't quite make it out, or decipher where the ship was going; it seemed to be passing through a layer of the Flux that was separated from the
L.A
. by a slight phase shift, though he couldn't quite discern a boundary layer.

I see it, too,
said Jakus Bark from the keel-rigger position.
Is that a distress signal? We'd better call the captain. Bridge—Captain Hyutu—?

When Captain Hyutu checked in, he reported that he could just make it out in the bridge monitors. By now, the distress beacon had become more audible. The codes didn't match anything in the
L.A
.'s computer, but soon they could hear voices calling across the gulf: "This is
Impris... Impris
calling... please respond... we need assistance... this is
Impris
, out of Faber Eridani..."

Legroeder and the rest of the crew were stunned.

Impris
.

The legendary Flying Dutchman, the ghost ship of the stars? Impossible! Officially,
Impris
was nothing more than a legend—a ship that vanished into the Flux during a routine voyage, well over a hundred years ago.
Impris
was hardly the first, nor the last, ship to vanish during a voyage, especially in time of war. What made her the stuff of legend was the recurring rumor of ghostly sightings—not just by one ship or two, but by generations of riggers. None of the sightings was clear enough to constitute proof of her continued existence, but the number of alleged sightings was enough to keep the legend alive.

It was as though
Impris
had faded into the Flux, never to reemerge into normal-space; and yet neither had she perished. So the tale in star riggers' bars grew: that she was like the Flying Dutchman of old, the legendary haunted seagoing ship whose captain and crew were doomed to sail through eternity, lost and immortal and without hope.

Myth, said the Spacing Authority's archives.

Real, said the riggers in the bars.

In the Flux it could be hard to tell the difference.

Not this time, though. Legroeder saw the ship moving through the mists of the Flux, and his crewmates saw it, too. Captain Hyutu of the
L.A
. was no rigger, but he was an experienced captain who could read the signs in the monitors as well as any. When he heard the distress call, he gave the order to the riggers:
Make slow headway toward that ship. See if you can bring us alongside
. An announcement echoed throughout the
L.A
. They were preparing to render assistance to a vessel in distress.

The
L.A
. closed the gap between the ships.

And that was when the Flux began to light up, the misty atmospheres around the
L.A
. suddenly flashing like a psychedelic light show.
What the hell—?
muttered Legroeder.

And then the sounds...
DROOM! DROOM! DROOM!
... like booming kettle drums, drowning out the distress call. Legroeder's heart pounded as
Impris
turned toward the
L.A
., and for a few seconds he thought the sounds were coming from
Impris
herself.

Are they turning to dock?
called Jakus, from the keel.

They're on a collision course!
cried the lead rigger.
Hard to starboard! Captain, sound collision!

Legroeder's stomach was in knots as he struggled, in a Flux that had suddenly become turbulent and slippery, to bring the stern around. Captain Hyutu intoned,
Steady as she goes! Steady, now!
The riggers obeyed, Legroeder holding his breath. And then Legroeder saw what Hyutu must have seen in the monitors: the other ship was shimmering and becoming insubstantial. As she closed with the
L.A
., turning, the front of her net cut across the portside bow of the
L.A
.'s.

And for just an instant, Legroeder felt the presence of the rigger crew of the other ship, heard their cries of anguish and despair, felt their awareness of
him
... and then
Impris
and her crew became altogether transparent, and suddenly were gone.

Gone.

A heartbeat later, another ship emerged from the mist in its place: a spiky and misshapen ship with a grotesque, leering face on its bow and weaponry bristling down its side.
What—?
Legroeder breathed, along with the others in the net, and then someone cried,
Golen Space pirates!
The booming crescendoed:
DOOOOM!... DOOOM-M-M!... DOOOM-M-M!
The Flux came ablaze with light, and it was all coming from the marauder ship. It had been hiding behind
Impris
, using the doomed ship as a shield.

Away!
Legroeder cried, and they tried to turn the
L.A
. away to flee, but it was already too late. The pirate riggers had spun threads of deception and fear, and they seemed to have a command over the stuff of the Flux that the
L.A
.'s crew did not. Within minutes, the two ships were bound together in coiling, distorted currents of the Flux, and then the marauder ship was pulling them up through the layers of the Flux into the emptiness between the stars. As they emerged into normal-space, light-years from the nearest help, the emerald and crimson haze of the great Barrier Nebula obscured even the sight of the distant stars that had been the
L.A
.'s destination.

The boarding was a brief, violent affair. The liner, carrying some limited armament against the perils of Golen Space, was hopelessly outmatched. Her fighting potential lasted about ten seconds, and by then half a dozen members of the crew were dead. To Legroeder it was a blur—emerging from the net and staggering out onto the bridge, he was met by armed raiders and herded through the ship's passageways at gunpoint, through clouds of noxious gas and smoke. From the airlock, he was shoved through a passage tube to the raider ship—and then into a hold with about thirty other people; and his life as a free man came to an end.

The court panel interrupted him, stating that they would get to his "captivity period" at a later time. Legroeder fell silent, gazing at the panel. "We'd like to know," said a man sitting to the right of the chairwoman, "if you can tell us a little more about the fate of others from the
Ciudad de los Angeles
." This man represented the Spacing Authority, the enforcement agency that dealt with pirates. Why was
he
here, if Legroeder wasn't on trial? "How many would you say were taken prisoner, and how many executed by the pirates?"

Legroeder stared at the man. "That's hard to say. I didn't see it all."

The man wore a pained expression, as though he hated asking such questions. "But what would be your best estimate?"

Legroeder turned to Kalm-Lieu in frustration.

Kalm-Lieu's soft, boyish features were twisted into a frown as he rose. "My client does not have that information, if it please the panel."

"Counsel," said the chairwoman, "we're only trying to complete our picture of the situation. If your client would give his best
estimate
as to the number captured, and the number executed by the pirates—"

Kalm-Lieu glanced at Legroeder and shrugged.

Legroeder sighed. "If I had to
guess
, I'd say that maybe half to two thirds of the crew and passengers were taken prisoner, and the rest killed during the boarding. Is that what you mean by executed?"

"Wouldn't you call it an execution to kill innocent people in the process of hijacking a ship?" asked the man from the Authority.

"Sure," Legroeder said. "I would." But in his seven years, he'd seen people summarily executed who weren't doing anything at all to resist. The thought of it made him ill, even now. But as for casualties in the boarding, he had never really known the true number, because most of them he never saw again—including Captain Hyutu. But he had the oddest recollection about the captain, one that had stayed with him all these years. In his last glimpse of Hyutu, he had seen on the captain's face an expression of outrage and indignation, as the raiders stormed through the ship. This would have seemed exactly right on another man's face. But not on Hyutu's: the man had always looked stiff and expressionless when he was angry. Legroeder had always wondered about that.