One's Aspect to the Sun (13 page)

He nodded. “And you'll never guess where the other end of the pinhole is.”

“That's right, I won't. So just tell me.”

“It's in the Keridre/Gerdrice System. There's only one other reliable comm pinhole to that system and it's always overloaded, plus it comes out light years away from any of the inhabited planets, which is why messages take so long. If this one turns out to be reliable, I'll be famous! I even got readings from Nellera, so the terminal point is not very far out in the system.”

I tried not to frown. “Doesn't this mean that the crate came out in the same vicinity?”

“Well, yes, but I wouldn't worry about it. No-one's going to notice the homing beacon, and even with that, there aren't any traceable identifiers on either the crate or the body. Unless someone finds it and runs a government Nearspace database search, and what are the chances of that?”

“Not very good,” I agreed, although I had some misgivings. I smiled. “So what are you going to name it?”

“I don't know yet. I have to think about it.” He grinned evilly. “I was thinking of naming it after Rei, since it
is
a communications pinhole and no-one talks more than—”

He ducked away from the punch she swung at him.

“Well, you won't have to worry about me talking to
you
,” she said loftily. “Captain, would you ask the communications officer if he's done here now, or do we have to hold this position indefinitely while he brags about his discovery?”

“No, I won't,” I said. “Members of this crew are not permitted to stop talking to each other while on duty. Captain's orders. Rei, get us back on track as soon as Baden's finished with any other readings or scans he needs. I'm going to the galley to have some tea and talk to some grown-ups for a change.”

The only grown-up still there when I arrived was Dr. Ndasa, who was engrossed in something on the datapad propped up on the table before him. He didn't look up until I'd fetched a cup of hot chai for myself and sat down opposite him at the table.

“Oh, hello, Captain,” he said vaguely, glancing up from his screen. “I'm just looking over some of Hirin's data from my interview with him Earthside. I haven't done any physical testing on him, but his condition is markedly improved since that time, judging by my own observations.”

I nodded. “I've noticed that, too. Do you have any ideas about why?”

“Some thoughts, but nothing concrete,” he said. “The lighter gravity, and the slightly richer atmosphere inside the ship, probably have something to do with it. It's likely he's eating better—both the nature of the food itself and the effects of having more engaging companionship to share it with. But to pin down exactly what's at play is impossible. After all this time we're still not sure about all the effects deep space travel has on the body, human or Vilisian. Most of the research is looking to see how we can address the negative effects—now I'm beginning to think there may be positive things we've overlooked.”

“That would be wonderful.” I remembered how Hirin had been when he was younger—how
we
had been.

“He's told me about the virus. We talked about it Earthside and again since we embarked on this journey. I'm curious to know if space travel has had an effect on its progress in his body. That would be quite a valuable bit of information.” The excitement on his face was an alien mirror of Baden's a few minutes ago.

I sipped my tea carefully. It was almost too hot to be drinkable, and redolent with spices. The heat of both tingled down my throat. “He mentioned that you plan to run some tests.”

“Yes. You don't mind if I use the facilities in your First Aid station? I notice you have more than the usual single-function datameds and healstrips in there.”

“Please feel free. I think one of the previous owners of the
Tane Ikai
suffered health problems, and he had her outfitted to provide more than just patch-up medical needs.” It had been Hirin, but I didn't say that.

“Thank you, Captain.” He smiled sheepishly, the amber skin around his eyes puckering. “I'm finding space travel a bit more—tedious than I'd expected, to be perfectly honest.”

I laughed. “It can't be all hurtling through wormholes and marvelling at nebulae, Doctor. There'll be plenty of excitement soon. Our first skip is tomorrow and we're only a week away from our trip through the Split after that.”

He sipped at his teacup and shuddered. It had obviously gone cold long before I'd arrived. “Well, there are many different sorts of excitement, aren't there, Captain? I'm not looking forward to that part of the journey now, as intriguing as it sounded back on Earth.”

“Me, neither.” I finished my tea and pushed my chair back. “Look forward to seeing the other end of the Split, Doc. That's what I'll be doing.”

We arrived at the wormhole out of Sol system just after noon the next day, shiptime. Although there's no actual “night and day” in space, we cycled through the same hours we would have on Earth or any other planet with a similar-length day, just to keep our own rhythms as normal as possible. Humans seemed remarkably unable to adapt to six- or forty-hour days—our circadian programming was too deeply encoded in our genes to be undone in less than two brief centuries of space travel.

Rei brought the ship to a halt well away from the almost-invisible dark spot that marked the end of the wormhole. Like any wormhole, it wasn't easy to see; hell, you'd never spot it without sensors to tell you where to look. Think of a black cat on a moonless night, or a shadow on the pupil of an eye. The communications relay, parked a few hundred meters away from it, was a dead giveaway, though.

Normal wormhole runs are an unremarkable way to travel these days, although it's always interesting to watch passengers make their first one. They're welcome on the bridge, so long as they stay out of the way; it's the only place on the ship with a decent viewscreen, and even if you're a seasoned Nearspace traveller, the inside of a wormhole is something to see.

It's quite a pretty place. All the radiation pouring into the wormhole gets blueshifted to high frequencies and reacts with the thin layer of Krasnikov matter the skip drive generates to hold the wormhole open. The result is a breathtaking swirl of constantly moving colour, like a hundred rainbows spinning down a drain. As the skip starts and the ship bounces from one side of the wormhole to the next, the effect is dizzying, and not a few meals have been lost in wormhole transit. Of course, the X-rays and gamma rays would fry you in an instant if the shields failed, but we don't talk about that with the passengers.

Hirin and Dr. Ndasa had both come up to the bridge to watch. Hirin was grinning like a kid and Dr. Ndasa looked nervous, the scent of grapefruit wafting from his skin again. I was glad Hirin was there. If he were going to have any negative reactions to the skip, I wanted him close. He came and stood behind my skimchair while the others were busy making preparations.

“I never thought I'd see another wormhole,” he whispered. “Thank you, Luta.”

I swivelled my head around to smile up at him and realized that there were tears in his eyes. “You're welcome,” I whispered back. “Now go and sit with Dr. Ndasa before you make me blow our cover!” I turned back to the viewscreen.

He squeezed my shoulder and strode over to sit by the Vilisian.

“Tracer scan reports no other ships in the wormhole or near the other terminal point,” Rei said. “Initiating skip drive sequence.” She looked over for my approval and, when I nodded, launched us into the wormhole.

No matter how many skips you've done, the wild beauty inside a wormhole always takes you by surprise. I glanced over at Dr. Ndasa just after the wormhole mouth closed around us and the swirling tunnel of colour curved out ahead. He stared at the viewscreen transfixed, his mouth open slightly, nodding at something Hirin was telling him. His long-fingered hands tightened on the skimchair arms when the first skip sent us spinning to the other side of the wormhole, but that was all.

Hirin looked over and winked at me, so I stopped worrying about him, and a minute later we were in the MI 2 Eridani system, heading for its lone inhabited planet, Rei's homeworld Eri. We'd be on Eri just a day, with one cargo shipment to unload there and fuel to take on, and then we could head for GI 892.

We were just about to leave Eri when Maja caught up with us.

I know I stared stupidly at Baden when he said, “Live incoming for you, Captain. Maja Tacan.”

“What? Where is she?” It couldn't be a live message if Maja was back in Sol system. My heart thudded heavily in my chest. If Maja were here, or close enough to send a live message, something must be wrong.

“Maja Tacan, message originates from the
P. Keinen
, Dock 34.” Baden half-turned in his skimchair, sea green eyes quizzical. “Is something wrong, Captain?”

I shook my head. “No, Baden, it's all right. It's—it's Hirin's daughter. He's asleep. I'll take it in my quarters. Secure messaging.”

My knees felt watery as I scurried down the corridor to my cabin. “Maja? What's wrong?” I asked as soon as her face appeared on my screen.

“Hello, Captain,” she said. Her face was set in a serious look that I knew well. She wasn't interested in sparring with me today. Whatever had brought her here was more important, but she didn't seem upset.

“We're secure, Maja, and I'm alone in my quarters. Where are you?”

“I'm here on Eri, Mother. Nothing's wrong. How's Dad?”

I knew she hadn't come all this way, hating space travel as she did, just to ask about her father. “He's doing fine, Maja. He's actually improved since we left Earth. Please, why are you here?”

She took a deep breath, audible over the comm line. “I decided—I wanted to be with Dad. At the end. I want to come with you, if you have room.”

Her voice was harsh; it was difficult for her to ask favours of me.

“Maja, you hate space travel!”

“I know. It doesn't matter.”

“What does Taso think about this?”

Maja shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line before she spoke. “Taso and I have been separated for six months, Mother. The divorce will be final soon. He has nothing to do with this.”

I stared at her. I didn't say, “Why didn't you tell me?” because I knew why she hadn't. Instead I asked, “Does your father know?”

“I didn't want to worry him. He seemed so frail . . .” Her voice trailed off, but she kept her eyes steady on mine. There was a core of steel in my daughter that I could admire when she wasn't wielding it against me. Perhaps I hadn't done her any favours by accepting and mirroring her aloofness.

“What about work?”

“Leave of absence,” she said. “It's not a problem.”

I smiled at her, flooded with relief that the news hadn't been worse. “Well, you seem to have thought of everything. Come aboard, Maja, and we'll talk some more. There's room if you want to stay. Your father will be happy to see you, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised when you see him.” I pretended not to notice the suspicion in her eyes as I broke the connection.

Since our scheduled departure time was getting close, I stuck my head in on the bridge before I went to see Hirin and said, “Slight delay on everything, folks. Looks like we're taking on another passenger. Yuskeya, since Dr. Ndasa has both cabins on the dock side, would you run down and check out the starwise cabins and make sure they're presentable?”

“No problem, Captain. Should I go now?”

“Please.”

Rei looked at me and raised her eyebrows. She'd have to wait for an explanation, though. “Rei, would you double-check stores, make sure we have enough laid in to handle another mouth? We shouldn't be held up too long, she's already here at the port, so everyone just stay ready,
okej
?”

Then I went down the corridor to Hirin's room before anyone could ask me anything else. I eased the door open gently, expecting to see him still asleep, but he was standing in the middle of his small cabin, his arms and body twisting slowly in the fluid motions of tae-ga-chi.

He stopped when he saw my face, and grinned.

“I still remember how to do it,” he said proudly. “And now I can do it again.”

“Hirin, that's wonderful. But we've got company.”

His eyes narrowed, and he looked like a fierce, grizzled bulldog. “PrimeCorp?”

I shook my head. “Maja.”

“What the—Maja's
here
?”

“Here on Eri, yes, and on her way to the
Tane Ikai
. I just spoke to her. She followed us because she didn't want to be away from you when—at the end.”

Hirin closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Maja hates space travel.”

I crossed the few steps between us and hugged him. “But she loves you.”

Hirin sighed. “She loves you, too, Luta.”

“Maybe.” I pulled away. “Anyway, she'll be here soon. You want me to bring her here?”

He thought a moment, then said, “I don't think so. She isn't finding the same man she said goodbye to on Earth. I'm not an invalid, and I think I'll meet her in the galley. She may not even want to come along once she sees me.”