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SAREE STARED AT THE message. Certainly, savants existed everywhere; most bipedal species she’d encountered had a few. Probably non-bipedal species as well, but she didn’t spend much time conversing with them. In some ways, the Sa’sa were an entire species of savants; Saree knew the breeders, in particular, weren’t particularly intelligent, and many of the other classes of Sa’sa were the same. They focused on their tasks to the exclusion of everything else.
The question was, why and how did this savant access ^timespace^? And where on the savant spectrum did the being fall? Completely incapable of doing anything but the task or able to function in society but task-focused, or somewhere in between? Human or another species? Saree slumped. Too many questions and not enough time for answers. Since Ruhger found a solution for Bonfanti Station and the Arena, he’d want to leave the system as soon as possible. They wouldn’t have time to visit the clock. And the new leadership might not want her visiting either. She could insist, but she didn’t really want to stay here either. She wanted to rescue Hal. But... Saree messaged Ruhger. “Would they let someone from the Madras visit George? Any further information you can get about him would be really helpful. And I hope he’s being treated well?”
Ruhger sent back an acknowledgement, but nothing else.
Saree sighed. She was stuck here in this ridiculously decorated shuttle, just waiting for the Assault Team to finish up and move out. She’d love to sleep, but that wasn’t a good idea; they might need to make a quick escape. She could... Saree glanced around. There was a large open area, created when all the mercs shoved themselves in here, pushing the furniture to the sides. And in some cases—Saree noted a few pieces sitting crooked with broken legs or tops—crushing it. She could clean up the mess. Her lip curled. She’d done enough cleaning. Or she could do some y’ga. That would keep her mind active and expend some of the fight adrenaline still zooming around her body. It would be good practice to do y’ga in soft armor.
She stood still and cleared her mind, breathing deeply, and noted where her body felt tight and where it felt good. She started the routine, moving from one pose to the next, regulating her breathing and her muscles. She finished lying on the soft, deep carpet, in an area mostly clear of dirt and debris, trying to sink further into meditation, but it wasn’t coming. Saree gave up and got back to her feet feeling a little more relaxed if not refreshed. Real rest wouldn’t come until they left Bonfanti.
When she returned to the pilot’s seat, a message indicator blinked, but it seemed to be a completely independent message system, not part of the shuttle’s net. Hmm. Was this someone trying to contact the original owner of this shuttle? A tricky, nasty being? Saree focused her e-torc recorder on the message indicator and selected it. It might not work without DNA. Or it might blow up in her face. She hurriedly brought up her helmet.
A small holo popped up, a head swathed in cloth, covering everything but the eyes. Mud brown eyes, topped by slightly darker brows; possibly human, but hard to know for sure. “You failed,” said a low, female voice, clipping the words off. “I took care of the problem myself. I owe you nothing. Come after me or mine and you’re dead. All of you and every one of your assets.” The vid disappeared.
Saree tried to investigate the messaging system, but she couldn’t find a control panel or a record of the message. The system must be designed to leave no trace. Good thing she’d recorded it. She sat back and considered the message and messenger. There was a lot of anger in that voice, but also control. Cold fury might describe it best. Interesting.
“All stations, Lightwave Command. Phalanx Eagle Spear One just folded out.”
The message was even more interesting now. Did this explain why Spear One didn’t enter the fight? Was Bonfanti supposed to do something for them first? And who was the woman? Saree sent the vid she’d taken of the message to Tyron and Katryn, along with an explanation of how she’d gotten it. Maybe once the shuttle was docked and they were on their way, the two of them could dig further into the system and find some metadata on the transmission.
She looked around the shuttle. Luxury hid a lot of evil. They’d have to dig deeply into the shuttle’s systems before connecting it to Lightwave’s net. They probably shouldn’t attach it to Lightwave’s physical systems, but they’d have to connect it minimally to fold out. Or maybe they’d be better off leaving it behind. But they needed a replacement for Alpha shuttle, and if Lightwave didn’t want it, one of the other mercs would, and it would still end up attached to Lightwave. She could look through systems now, see what she could find. But what if she triggered a failsafe?
Saree snorted a laugh. Black hole or sun? Once you were sucked into the gravity well, they both destroyed you. Well, better to go out now than take Lightwave out too. She’d start by doing an inspection of the physical components, beginning in the airlock. There must be stunners, gas or lasers mounted in there—or all three. She sent a text message to Lightwave Ops, so if the shuttle blew up or she ended up dead, they’d know why. Saree brought up the shuttle’s command and control system and dug down to reach the exterior access controls. This should keep her busy long enough for the rest of them to finish up their work on Bonfanti.
#
“RUHGER, TYRON.”
Ruhger woke from his half-doze. “Go ahead.” Tyron was in another Bonfanti comms center, closer to the Arena, helping the new Bonfanti leadership prepare for the physical Arena separation.
“We’re about to wrap this Bonfanti thing up and get out of here.”
“Excellent. When you get the two stations separated, we’ll be ready to go. Goldie’s got a good handle on everything. Whether she’ll keep control I don’t know, but she’s made a good start. And I’ve seen vid of George and sent it to Saree.”
“Oh?” Tyron asked.
“Yeah, Goldie showed me the takeover they did out there. Fast and effective. The new people are experienced caretakers, so they should take care of George better than the arrogant idiots who were at the clock. Even if you hated every living being, why would you mistreat the reason you’re making credits?” The vids showing the nasty tricks those Familia scum played on poor George infuriated Ruhger. Those same scum would be dropped off at the Arena, Goldie said.
“No. Humans are stupid. And shortsighted.”
“That they are. Do you have an estimated completion time?”
“The biggest thing slowing us is notifications and selective evacuations. The new leadership is making each notification in person, so the beings involved actually believe and trust it’s going to happen. Best estimate is another four hours.”
“Okay, just let me know. I’ll set some shifts for the remaining mercs here. Half of them are asleep right now anyway.”
“Don’t forget to get some sleep yourself.”
Ruhger huffed. “Not going to happen until we fold out.”
Tyron snorted. “Yeah. Tyron out.”
Ruhger set wake-ups for the sleeping mercs, some in an hour, some in two, and assigned the awake mercs their replacements. He surveyed Goldie’s progress—she’d had someone make a task list and post it on the biggest vid screen here—and was reassured to see the number of tasks completed was starting to outpace the new tasks appearing. Goldie’s biggest problem was enforcement of the new regime. She’d initially locked the old leadership into their compartments and set remotes to watch the hatches, but some of those old leaders broke out anyway, with secret escape routes and ships. Goldie’s new security team was rounding them up, but it took time, and most of the new security people weren’t very good at it. They simply didn’t know what they were doing. The few mercs Ruhger trusted to help them were doing a great job, but there weren’t enough of them. There’d been some collateral damage and mistakes. Goldie was going to have a hard time once the initial surge of freedom joy wore off. But that wasn’t his problem—Lightwave would be long gone.
The woman in question strode over to him. “All these military-types you brought. Do you know all of them personally?”
It hadn’t taken Goldie long to get over her fear of him or to take on a commanding personality. “I used to. Most of them were part of the original Phalanx Eagle, before Wreck’s mutiny and our breakup. Some of them lost family during that action and when he destroyed my parents’ company, Secure Fold Transport. But I can’t say I really know them anymore.”
“Do you think some of them might want jobs? I need security advisors.”
Ruhger considered the thought. Many of them were older and probably tired of merc life, but not suited for much else. “You can make the offer. Some of them might take you up on it. I can’t guarantee how good any of them will be as advisors.”
Goldie half-laughed. “There are no guarantees in life, Ruhger. Haven’t you learned that?” Her ironic expression softened a little. “But thanks. I like a lot of what I’ve seen.” She smiled just a little and tilted her head. “You want a job?”
Ruhger laughed. “No, sorry. Got one. My crew and I are going back to our regular lives.”
“Ah.” Regret crossed her face. “Too bad. I could have used all of you.”
Ruhger tensed. Was she going to double-cross him?
Goldie raised both hands. “Wait!” She lowered her voice. “I could use your skills. I’m not keeping you here against your will or trying to kill you.”
“Good, because that wouldn’t end well for you.”
She snorted. “I’m very aware of that. If you could stay until I make my offers, I’d appreciate it.”
“We will.” He huffed, amused. “And we’ll try to think the best of each other while we remain, right?”
She nodded, smiling ironically. “Right. Thank you again for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” Ruhger watched her stride away, already talking to someone else on her e-torc, and was sure that she’d be successful, at least in the short-term. After the Arena separation, Goldie’s chances would be even better. Could the Arena leaders send forces over to assault the station? Sure. But the station had powerful weapons, and part of the separation protocol Tyron was working on made sure most of the Arena’s weapons didn’t survive. A little merc help would set her up for success. Hopefully, that success wouldn’t go to her head. Ruhger hoped he could visit a normally functioning Station sometime in the future, one where brutality and cruelty weren’t celebrated. But only time would tell.
#
“ALL STATIONS, FOLD in five, four, three, two, fold.” Ruhger turned to Saree, who gave him a thumbs-up. “We’ve arrived in Antlia. Run post-fold checks and report issues. Lightwave out.” He wasn’t thrilled to be back in Antlia, but as destinations went, there were worse places. The remaining mercs and merc shuttles could find transport out-system or work here. Lightwave could rest here, safe, so Chief could make repairs. Grant could restock their supplies and sell some of the ridiculous furnishings from the Arena escape shuttle. Loreli could restock as well, and use the funds from the antique sale to redecorate Lightwave, something she’d wanted to do since she came onboard. And Saree could negotiate with Gov Human. Again. Ruhger’s mouth twisted. Better her than him.
“Ruhger, Tyron.”
“Go ahead, Tyron.”
“I didn’t want to bother you during the Bonfanti thing, but something unusual happened at the end. Are you alone?”
“Saree is here.”
Tyron nodded, his face grim. “Good. While we were helping with the Bonfanti-Arena separation, Saree got an interesting communication from Phalanx Eagle’s Spear One. She was flying the Arena escape shuttle, remember? She took a vid of it, which was smart, because that comm system doesn’t keep records. Katryn tried to dig into it while we flew to the fold point, but it self-destructed. I’m sending a link. It’s coded for your eyes only. Watch it.”
“Sure.” He wasn’t doing anything else; Saree was flying and didn’t need his help.
Ruhger watched the cloth-wrapped woman accuse Bonfanti of failure and threaten them. “Interesting. It explains why Spear One didn’t join in the fight. They were expecting something from the Arena owners and they failed to do whatever it was. Take us out?”
“Or take Wreck out? Or both?” Tyron asked. “But there’s more to this than meets the eye, Ruhger. The woman’s voice sounds familiar to me. Do you recognize it?” His expression was strange, like Tyron wasn’t sure of his feelings.
Ruhger frowned at Tyron. “No. Should I?”
Tyron grimaced. “Maybe. I’m not entirely sure. I ran it through a voice analysis and it is a sixty percent match.”
“With whom?” Ruhger shivered with foreboding.
Tyron’s jaw clenched for a moment. “Ruth Jericho.”
“Ruthie?! She was killed in PE’s attack on Security Fold Transport! She died with everyone else!” Like his parents, Wilson and Rehmington, and Tyron’s parents and... Ruhger collapsed back into his seat. Saree was staring at him, surprise morphing into compassion and concern.
“That’s what we all thought,” Tyron said. “But maybe some survived.”
“By the seven suns of Saga! How is that possible?”
Tyron’s strange expression was starting to make sense. “I don’t know, Ruhger, and it may not be true. It’s only a sixty percent match. But I recommend we keep this a secret from everyone else, especially Grant.”
Ruhger dropped his head for a second. Poor Grant. He’d never been the same after Ruth was killed. If the woman really was Ruth, and she was on PE’s ship, how had she survived? What had she done to survive? How did it change her? How could this happen? He needed to think about all the ramifications, but not now. Not until they were in a fold hold orbit and all the repair and recovery tasks were underway. “You’re right there, Tyron. We can’t tell anyone else. Sixty percent isn’t good enough to raise hopes. And raising Grant’s hopes would be cruel.”
“I thought you’d agree. Don’t tell Chief or Loreli either. It’s just too big a chance, too uncertain.”
Ruhger nodded slowly. “Agreed. I don’t like keeping secrets, but in this case?” Ruhger blew out a big breath and shook his head. “We’ll reassess after we get more information. We need to find out more about PE. Before, I only cared about where we could find them and how we to get rid of Wreck. Now I want to know everything.” Could his parents have survived? Not likely. But that tiny possibility dangled... and it had to be dangling for Tyron too.
“I almost wish we hadn’t seen this,” Tyron said.
Ruhger nodded. “Yeah. After the merc-net announcement Phalanx Eagle made about a leadership change, we were all sure Wreck was done, finished. They wouldn’t bother with personal revenge against us, just whatever Galactica set them to doing. But if Ruthie survived...”
“Yeah.” Tyron nodded. “Let’s talk more later. We have work to do now.”
“We do. Thanks, I think. Let me know if you find out anything more or have any issues with our current tasks.”
“Copy that, Ruhger. Tyron out.”
Ruhger turned to Saree. Surprisingly, she was staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought. “Saree, did Tyron explain our history with Ruthie? And with you, since you were in the same rescue?”
She started and turned to him, blinking like she’d just woken up, an odd expression on her face too. “Yes, Tyron explained. I remember parts of it: running, people in armor, laser fire, being terrified and confused, but that’s it.” She shuddered.
“I’m sorry.”
Saree sighed. “As horrible as those memories are, this might be worse.” She squeezed her eyes shut so hard she looked like she’d just bitten into an Eridanus sour. “I just got a message from Hal.”
“He’s alive?” Ruhger’s brows shot so high his forehead ached. “Did he escape? Is he okay?”
Saree shook her head a tiny bit. “I’m not sure. I’m not positive the message is from him. It uses all the right codes and code words, and tells me he’s alive and well, but it doesn’t sound like him.” She shrugged. “I know that doesn’t make sense for a text message, but it’s true.”
“No, I know what you mean. The syntax isn’t right.”
She looked at him with some surprise.
Ruhger huffed. “Not just a pretty face, here.”
“No, I was just surprised you knew what I was trying to say so badly.” Her smile flickered and died. “What do we do if the Mensians captured Hal and enslaved him? Or worse, they captured him and gave him to Galactica? Or someone else?”
Ruhger’s stomach sank like a comet into a black hole. “Does he ask for contact, a pickup, a rescue, anything?”
“No. The message is just an ‘I’m alive and well’ message.”
Ruhger grimaced so hard his jaw hurt. He loosened it deliberately, giving himself time to think. “Well, then, we wait and see. No choice.”
Saree sighed and sagged into the command chair. “I guess we do.” She turned away, busying herself with navigation.
Ruhger stared at her for a few moments, and turned to his own screens. Even though wait-and-see was the only possible solution, Saree seemed terribly disappointed. Ruhger desperately wished he had a better answer.
For both of them.
#
WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT Ruthie (and Saree’s) rescue as kids? Watch for my short story Lightwave: Jericho Colony Rescue, in The Expanding Universe 5 anthology, releasing September 16th, 2019!
Folding Space Series 6.0, Lightwave: Command Decision, will release fall of 2019.