CROWELL

18 The sideways slot was like any other, now that we were inside it. The way to enter it was different with the Memor engine, but we could still get into the slot normally due to our unique position.

We programmed the two ships to match velocity, proceeding slower than normal, trying to keep the grapple line from gathering too much slack, but occasionally we endured heavy jolts. Forno continued to grumble about us being separated and having to communicate ship to ship. Since the slot was uncharted, we had no idea how long it would take to get to the other end. We also didn’t know how far we’d have to travel in regular space to the station. I was looking forward to getting off the Exeter and onto more solid ground, so to speak. We had no idea what to expect once we got there, so that tempered my enthusiasm.

Forno had been quiet about half an hour when his gruff voice came over the comm. “You still figure the Exeter was left for you?”

I still had a strong feeling about that possibility, but hell if I had an answer I believed in a hundred percent. “It seems unlikely. Two years in the slot?”

“You were the one who pointed out all the signs and portents. The little clues lining up just right.”

“Coincidence.”

“Or an intricate plan. How many we up to now?”

“Plan B. They’re all Plan B.”

“The idea of a larger scheme working because all the parts are set in motion by a single event should in itself tell you something.”

“It tells me you should stop worrying about it. Let me do the worrying.” But I couldn’t let it go. “What single event?”

“The death of Brindos. Everything turned on that moment.”

“I’m not sure that’s the moment.”

“And then the next moment,” Forno continued, “was when you were able to travel back from Rook to our universe because of the sacrifice of Vanderberg Parr, another copy of Brindos.”

I didn’t say anything back right away. Was he right? The sacrifice of my friend. Twice. And what was the next moment? Another sacrifice? Whose? Mine? Or my dad’s? Maybe my dad’s capture all those years ago had triggered everything else, and I’d witnessed a long and intricate plan that synced together just right.

“Whatever it is,” I said, the comm crackling a little due to slot interference, “I’d be quite happy for their intricate plan to be over. I’m tired of Ultras. I’m tired of Thin Men, and I’m tired of jump slots. I just want to say goodbye to all of it.”

The comm line fuzzed, then Forno’s voice came in crystal clear. “Not yet, partner. You’ve got a few more steps to take.”

A few steps to take now, and eventually, a gigantic leap across the void between universes.

We came out of the slot an hour later. Life support for the Exeter had normalized during the previous hour and I was able to strip my space suit in favor of some freedom of movement.

Out of the bubble, I saw the station right away. Not so far away from the slot at all. We maintained a little slack between the two ships, and I inched us forward, keeping in constant communication with Forno.

The station was small. I wondered if it had a name. The main stations for the planets all had names associated with birds: Heron, Egret, Swan, Osprey, Crossbill. This one wasn’t on any chart. A ghost station just like my ghost ship Exeter. I decided I’d call it Meadowlark Station, after the Montana state bird. When I was young, I learned to whistle the meadowlark’s call and had conversations with the birds on my way home from school. They’d cock their heads and look at me quizzically, as if they couldn’t believe the things I was saying in my broken meadowlark. Then they’d berate me with their own complicated calls.

The station called to me now; I hoped I could communicate with it. Understand it and reach beyond it into the void.

As we closed in, I saw two ships docked. One looked to be a small transport, and the other was a cruiser like the Exeter. What were the chances one of them had both a working drive engine and a Memor proprietary engine? If the ships were here, they had to have the Memor engine. There wasn’t any way to use the sideways slot without one—unless someone wanted to go our route: get lost and hope against all hope that the ship drifted right to the entrance.

The next question was: who was here with those ships? Friend or foe? Civilian, Authority or military? I needed the space to attempt the quantum travel, and, according to Plenko, needed to be free of any distractions. I was reminded of my home in Montana, when I would lay on the lawn at night and gaze at the stars. Away from the lights of the city. Away from anything outside of the few lights burning in the house behind me. It took your breath away, that clarity.

Perhaps that same feeling would come to me here, in the middle of nowhere.

“No movement,” Forno said through the comm. “No one’s coming to check us out.”

“Standard for most stations.”

“Standard if you have a flight plan and a scheduled, authorized arrival.”

“This isn’t a normal station. A few sideways ships, no one sticks around long. We’ll chance it. Can you get the Lucky Lawrence to a berth if I push you in the right direction and let you loose?”

“If I can get close, the automated docking system will take hold.”

“If this backwater station has a docking system.”

“There’s that pessimism again.”

“My favorite word.”

“If it doesn’t have one, I guess I go out in a blaze of glory.”

“And take out Meadowlark Station in the process.”

“Meadowlark?”

“You like it?”

“Works for me.”

“How’s it look on the actual station?” I waited while I assumed he checked his instruments.

“I’ve got life sign readings,” he said.

“Number?”

“Impossible to be exact, but not many. Between three and five.”

I gave a nod he couldn’t see. “Not bad. We could handle that if we had to. If they’re hostile.”

Forno didn’t think they’d all be hostile, and I agreed with him. “Prepare to ungrapple,” I said. I lined us up and headed straight for a berth, Forno in tow.

“Ready,” he said.

I took a deep breath. “Disengaging . . . now.”

The grapple off, I maneuvered the Exeter out of the Lucky Lawrence’s path. Forno let the ship coast in while I found another berth.

“Docking triggered,” he said, obviously relieved. “Good news for me and the . . . Meadowlark.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re docked, and keep an eye on any activity. Weapons prepped?”

“Ready as can be. You too, I hope.”

“Of course.” I scanned the station with the Exeter’s instruments. Now that they were powered up, I appreciated their sleek aesthetic. The outer hub seemed deserted. “I’m taking the next berth over. If all is well, I’ll meet you in the middle.”

We signed off and I commenced docking procedures. I hoped the station’s automated system played nice with the Lucky Lawrence. Soon enough, the Exeter docked and powered down. When it was safe, I pulled the Tarot cards from the console, left the ship, and immediately lost the signal with Forno. I pocketed the cards and pulled my blaster.

It looked increasingly as if the station was deserted, but Forno’s readouts had indicated life forms. Where were they? Whoever they were, they certainly weren’t worried about two ships suddenly coming out of the slot and docking without authorization.

I saw Forno down the hub as we worked our way to each other. I shrugged, and he did a slow turn, checking our surroundings.

“A bit strange, huh?” he asked.

“We wanted quiet, but this is weird. Too quiet.”

“You don’t know how quiet you’ll need it to be, so maybe it’s just right.”

“Maybe I should just hunker down here and get started.”

Forno shook his head. “Need to check the place out. Ascertain whether either of those ships will get me out of here after you’re in quantum flux.”

“Ascertain?”

“I’m fancy.” He grinned. “Split up and search?”

“No, we should stick together. Two against five sounds a hell of a lot better than one against five.”

“Agreed.”

We searched, working our way slowly around the hub. The other cruiser eventually came into view and we stopped to check it out. A simple flash panel granted us access. Unlocked, basically, and I thought: too easy.

Forno went to the pilot cabin and did a quick diagnostic. I did a quick search of the rest of the ship. When I finished and joined him, he beamed at me.

“Perfect order,” he said. “Main engines, Memor proprietary engine, and a standard slot engine as well. It’s fully equipped.” He looked down at me. “Anyone on board?”

“Not a soul.”

“Could you do it here?” he asked.

He’d read my mind. “Seems like I could. But then I wonder what it’ll look like from your end. Also, could the process damage the ship? You have to travel back home in this. Makes me a little nervous.”

“It might also be strange for me to see you . . . you know. Suddenly disappear.”

I nodded. “Let’s check the rest of the station. If we’re lucky and we’re truly alone, we can breathe easier. If not, I want to know where everyone is, and where they stand.”

“And if they won’t . . . stand?”

“Send them out in the Exeter.”

“Set them adrift?”

“For a bit. Quick burn, then delayed burn and return. That is, if you can figure out how to do that.”

“Probably.”

“By then, I’m out of here, and you disappear before they realize you’re gone.”

“Then you should find your quiet spot and just let me search and take care of them.”

“Not alone.”

“Dave, please. I’m a Helk, and bigger than all of them together.”

“What if one of them’s a Helk?”

He frowned. “Good point.”

“Also, how quiet can you be, scaring Meadowlark personnel?”

“Another good point.”

I started toward the inner ring, eager to find our missing station personnel. “So we agree—”

“—to disagree.” He side-stepped in front of me and put out his meaty arm.

“What’re you doing?”

“Go back to the Lucky Lawrence.”

I stared at him unbelievingly. “Not a good idea.” I tried to push past him, but there wasn’t a chance he was going to let me by.

“It’s the best idea,” he said. “The ship isn’t going anywhere after this, so who cares if it’s damaged from your trip? Besides, it’s named after your dad.”

“So?”

“It’s lucky.”

“You believe in luck all of a sudden?”

“No. But I believe in you. In your luck.”

“Whatever that means.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked up, as if accessing a memory. “Yeah, that does sound a bit squishy-feels, huh?”

“Touchy-feely—” I groaned. “God damn it, Forno. How much longer do I have to put up with that?”

He sobered. “Not much longer, it seems.”

I said nothing. The weight of his statement held me back in the same way he’d kept me from leaving the hub with his massive arm.

Not much longer.

God, I was really going to do it. I closed my eyes and saw all I knew passing in front of me like a parade. I would travel from here, leaving everything behind. But why? Why risk my life and strand myself in a hostile place for a chance to see my dad? Reunite with the dad I’d barely known and who could not possibly still be alive in an antimatter universe?

Shit, wasn’t that it? To know him? To know more about who I was? And everyone who put this plan into place wanted to know more about the Ultras and who they were.

As if reading my thoughts, Forno said, “Are you sure about this?”

I ran my hand across my brow, then let my fingers massage my temples. I shrugged. “Yes?” I heard myself say. I nodded. “Yes. Yes, damn it. I have to do it.”

“Then go back and do it. Don’t wait.” He inclined his head toward the station’s center. “I’ll take care of whatever I find in there.”

I had no reason to disagree with him anymore. “So I guess this is goodbye.”

He shuffled his big club feet, then poked at something invisible with a stubby toe. “I guess so.”

In that moment, I realized I’d never said anything to him to indicate his importance to me, never called him friend to his face, never embraced him. Of course, I wasn’t sure how to hug a Helk. I’d probably just get a close-up of his retractable penis or something.

I extended my arm and he enveloped my hand long enough for a semi-human handshake. With my other arm I reached up and patted his shoulder. I understood that much about Helks and friendship, so I knew that counted.

“Take care of Dorie for me,” I said.

He nodded.

“And Jennifer.

He smiled. “Of course.”

“Be careful.”

“I will,” he said. “Sleep well.”

He turned and bounded away. I watched him go, tracking him until he disappeared inside the inner station.

Oodgay eyebay.

I headed back toward the berth where I’d docked the Lucky Lawrence.

It was time for a Tarot reading.