Primary Inversion (47 page)

      
Fading in…

      
Data dripped into my mind telling me we had come out of stasis. Medline had cleared the planet enough to fire the photon thrusters. The real part of our velocity was 60% of light speed…

      
…96%.

      
…99.999999%.

      
Our liquefying mass increased by a factor of 7000. The engine sucked in matter from a cosmic ray flux that extended through real and imaginary space, its density far greater than the tiny fraction we saw in the subluminal universe. The racer ate fuel like an insatiable behemoth, hurtling gods only knew where. For eighteen minutes, or maybe eighteen millennia, we poured through space, running on the rim of light speed, trying to invert—trying and failing.

      
Meeeeeeeddddliiii…subliiiight…

      
The cabin went black—

      
And the twisting stopped.

      
I gasped, shocked by my sudden solidity. My eyes snapped open. We were accelerating at more than one g, but we were solid.
Normal.
No, not quite normal. Bits of my uniform were embedded in the seat where Jaibriol had fallen across my arm, and I could see pieces mixed in with my skin too.

      
“Jaibriol!” My voice rasped. I smacked my palm against the exoskeleton and it unfolded, letting me twist around to see the cabin.

      
He lay in a heap, sliding along the deck. His legs were flat on the ground as if he were on his back, but his torso was twisted so that from the waist up he was lying on his side. One arm was caught behind him, pulling away from the rest of his body. It made him look distorted, broken in two.

      
I struggled out of the pilot’s seat. As dizziness swooped over me, I slid down to the deck. Then I crawled to Jaibriol.
Please don’t let him be dead.
I lifted his arm, the one behind him, and put it in front of his torso. With a groan, he rolled onto his back, his body relaxing into a normal position. As we slid along the deck, he stared at the bulkhead above him, his gaze unfocused.

      
I pulled myself up to lie alongside of him. “Can you see me?”

      
He squinted at my face. “Yes.”

      
“Are you all right?”

      
“I think so.”

      
“Primary Valdoria,” Medline said. “We are using up a great deal of fuel.”

      
“Stop accelerating,” I said.

      
The hum of the engines changed, and Jaibriol and I stopped sliding. As he turned his head, the motion caused him to drift up from the deck.

      
A groan came from the co-pilot’s seat. I pushed off the deck and floated to the cockpit, where my exoskeleton caught my body and pulled me down. O’Neill sat in her own seat, her face pale.

      
“We made it,” she said.

      
“I hope so.” I settled into the exoskeleton. The holomaps in front of my chair showed images of the region where we were traveling, along with graphs charting fuel consumption, trajectory, location, date—

      
I whistled. “We’ve jumped three months into the future.”

      
Jaibriol floated over and grabbed the arm of my chair. “That can’t be. We’ve only been traveling a few minutes.”

      
“We never inverted,” I said. “So we never compensated for the time dilation.” It could work to our advantage, I realized. “They’ll search for us in the wrong place. Or I should say the wrong time. They’ll be looking for us three months ago.”

      
“That means I haven’t reported to President Calloway in three months,” O’Neill said. “She must think we’re dead.”

      
“Let us hope they all think that,” Jaibriol said.

      
We had lost three months of our lives. Three months had passed since my father gave our story: a desperate Jaibriol had managed to reached the palace and capture the flyer; he tried to adapt its engines for inversion; I and “Lyra Merson” grabbed him with the racer; the backlash of his improperly inverting engines caught us—and after that no one knew what had happened.

      
“Medline,” I said. “Release the flyer.”

      
The grind of opening claws vibrated through the deck. My holomaps showed the flyer riding under us, matching our velocity. I manipulated the claws until they nudged the small vessel, changing its velocity enough that it drifted in front of the racer.

      
“Blow it up,” I told the racer.

      
The flyer exploded. Debris hurtled in all directions, some coming straight at us on the screens and deflecting away when it hit the protected hull. By the time anyone discovered the wreckage, it would be spread out over too much space for them determine that none of us had exploded with it.

      
And then it was done.

      
I leaned back and closed my eyes, overwhelmed by exhaustion as my adrenalin eased.

      
“Maybe I should take over,” O’Neill said.

      
I managed to nod. While she took the controls, I released my exoskeleton and pulled out of it. Jaibriol and I floated over to the bunk. As we maneuvered onto it, the medweb slid around us both, securing our bodies. And finally we could relax, wrapped in each other’s arms. Although I wanted to stay awake, we both slept, dozing and waking sporadically. When we inverted, my stomach rebelled, but this time the twisting lasted only an instant.

      
Some time later, I awoke to see O’Neill floating by the bunk.

      
“How are you doing?” she asked.

      
“All right.” My voice sounded raspy, but I felt steadier.

      
“I put the racer on autopilot,” she said. “It will be a few hours, ship’s time, before we reach our destination.”

      
Jaibriol stirred. “Where are we going?”

      
O’Neill took hold of a strut and drew herself down so she was eye level with us. “A planet called Gamma IV.”

      
“What constellation?” I asked.
Gamma IV
was an incomplete designation.

      
O’Neill only said, “No one knows it exists except us, President Calloway, and the robot scout that found it four standard days ago—” She paused. “Four days and three months ago. Calloway intercepted the report before anyone else saw it. By now, she will have erased that record.”

      
So. O’Neill wasn’t going to reveal its location even to us. “Are there people on the planet?” All these precautions would do no good if someone recognized us.

      
“No intelligent species,” O’Neill said. “A lot of wildlife and some beautiful areas, like the mountains where I’ll put you down. That’s all we know. We have no surveys.” She motioned at the cabin. “I brought as much gear as I could manage without drawing attention. I also got you a solar powered EI with a library. Other than that, you’ll be on your own.”

      
What an understatement. True, as a Jagernaut I had survival training. My enhanced speed and strength would help, as would Jaibriol’s strapping good health and his intelligence. But it wouldn’t be easy. I supposed that had a certain logic from Calloway’s point of view. What better way to keep the Highton and Imperial Heirs out of trouble than to set us down in an uncharted wilderness where all our energy would go into staying alive?

      
O’Neill cleared her throat. “If you wish—I can perform the ceremony.”

      
“Ceremony?” I asked.

      
“The marriage.” She hesitated. “You asked for one…?”

      
I rolled over to face Jaibriol. “Want to marry me?”

      
He smiled and pushed up on his elbow. “All right.”

      
With that vastly romantic proposal done, we went over to the cockpit and brought up the library files, looking for a ceremony. Medline had several, mostly from Skolian worlds. Then one from Earth caught my attention. It came from the Maya Indians. I noticed because it scrolled up with the image of a woman who reminded me of my grandmother, with her large, dark eyes and luxuriant braid of black hair hanging down her back. The only words we found for it were in a language called Tzotzil. Since we didn’t want an AI translating during our wedding, O’Neill made up Skolian words, keeping the spirit of the ceremony.

      
We needed three candles, a ribbon, thirteen coins, and two rings. For candles, O’Neill dug out penlights from a locker. She found a long string we could use as a ribbon, and she had a handful of coins in her pocket. The rings gave us the most difficulty. We finally took two fittings off a brace on the bunk. We were supposed to kneel at an altar, but since we had neither the altar nor the necessary g-forces, we improvised by floating near the bunk.

      
O’Neill turned on the penlights and gave us each one, keeping the third for herself. She spoke gently. “May these lights keep your future well lit.” Then she tied the ends of the string together and slipped the loop over our heads. “May this ribbon join your lives together as one.” She counted out the coins. “May your souls remain safe within you.” Handing them to Jaibriol, she said, “Tell her, ‘I give these to you, wife.’”

      
Jaibriol pressed the coins into my hands. “I give these to you, wife.” Softly, he added, “It’s all I have and I’m afraid it’s borrowed, but I give it with all my heart.”

      
I lifted his hand and pressed his knuckles against my cheek, sending us floating into a strut of the bunk. “Then you’ve made me a rich woman.”

      
O’Neill peered at her notes. “Actually, you say, ‘I receive them, husband.’ It’s the first time you call each other husband and wife.”

      
“I receive them, husband.” I glanced at O’Neill. “Don’t I give him anything?”

      
She studied her notes. “It doesn’t look like it. You give the coins to whoever marries you.”

      
That seemed rather redundant, given that they were hers to start with. But I offered them. “Thank you.”

      
She smiled. “Keep them. For a memory.” She pulled the rings out of her pocket, the motion bumping her against a brace on the bunk. Lifting Jaibriol’s hand, she slid a ring onto his fourth finger. Then she handed him the second ring. “You may give it to your bride.”

      
Jaibriol put it on my index finger, where it fit best. It felt odd; I rarely wore jewelry. But that was all right. I would get used to it.

      
“If I were a priest,” O’Neill said. “I would read Mass now. But since I’m not…”

      
“We understand,” I said.

      
“I guess that’s it, then.” She unhooked a node pad from her belt. “As Captain of this ship, I pronounce you married.” She extended the pad toward me. “You both have to sign.”

      
Jaibriol visibly tensed. “If a record exists, someone might find it.”

      
“If we don’t make this record, it’s not legal,” O’Neill said. “I’ll give it only to President Calloway.” She offered us the pad again. “Why get married if it doesn’t mean anything?”

      
“It means something to us,” Jaibriol said. “That’s what matters.”

      
“No. She’s right.” I smiled wanly. “That’s how they used to end wars, right? Marry off the children of the opposing forces. And think of our children, if we have any. Illegitimacy will weaken their position. If something happens to us, that may mean a lot more than we can imagine now.”

      
Jaibriol glanced at O’Neill. “Only President Calloway will see this document?”

      
She nodded. “Unless you ever have reason to ask her for it yourselves.”

      
He let out a breath. “Very well.”

      
So we both signed. And then we were married.

#

Jaibriol stood with me, both of us looking at the evening sky. Long after O’Neill’s ship had dwindled to a speck and disappeared, we continued to stand there, as if by not moving we didn’t have to acknowledge we were alone and cut off from the rest of humanity.

      
Finally Jaibriol sighed. He glanced at the entrance of a cave in the hill next to us. “We ought to set up some sort of defense.” He motioned at the heavy forest. “In case anything is out there.”

      
I nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

      
But after we walked inside the cave, we just looked around. The feeble light from our hand-lamps revealing a rocky cavity not much bigger than the cabin of the racer. Crates, boxes, barrels, and bundles lay in piles, as well a neutrino transmitter. We had set up an electrified screen, but we otherwise hadn’t done much with the supplies.

      
Jaibriol took a blanket from a pile. “Let’s go outside. Just for a while.”

      
The thought of escaping the dark cave appealed to me also. “All right.” I slung the laser carbine over my shoulder and clipped on its power pack.

      
Outside, we reset up the screen to guard the cave entrance. Then we looked around. A forest of soft-needled trees surrounded us, thinning out to the west into a scorched clearing where the racer had landed. To the north the trees also thinned, opening into what looked like another clearing.

      
We went north, taking in the feel of the land, and came out onto the apex of a cliff. Peaks spread out as far as we could see, towering slopes that plunged down into valleys and sheered back into the sky, all carpeted by forest. Vertical cliffs showed here and there, their nude faces making patches of white in the otherwise unbroken green. Above the mountains, the sunset burned like red fire lapping against the low clouds. Straight above us the sky had darkened, letting stars wink here and there. In the east, the ragged wedge of a broken moon hung above the peaks.