Something boomed through the hull. Vibration began—that experience didn’t explain. He grabbed at Saby’s hand, felt Saby’s fingers bend around his.
He tried to keep his breaths deep and even. Dreams ran and melted color across his vision. Memories of sound. Memories of a lingering, deeply erotic kiss, a touch running over his skin.
Boom. Thump. His pulse pounded
A moment of profound hush, the air gone numb.
Hydraulics worked, somewhere in the frame. Wasn’t cargo. Couldn’t figure…
Third loud boom. He’d never heard a ship sound like that on entry.
“We are here. “ A calm voice on com. Beatrice’s, he thought, comforted by that icy competence. “Stay belted. We are in docking approach. Essential movement only. “
It didn’t seem real. “Can’t,” he muttered, thinking he must have passed out a while, lost some hours of time. “Docking? We can’t be, this soon.”
“We hit real close to the target,” Saby murmured. “Pella’s good. She always does this one. “ Her hand moved. He turned his head, making the whole universe seem to tilt. Saby had found the nutri-packs, he thought. He heard the rustling, reached to help her.
Pilot couldn’t be better off. Trying to dock. The shakes crawling up a body’s gut respected no occupation and no emergency, while Capella…
Dropping a ship straight into docking approach—couldn’t do that, damn crazy woman… at Tripoint, no less, triple, unstable mass…
Computer lockdown.
Bloody hell…
Fingers were numb, on the seal of the packet Saby gave him.
Boom. Again.
Hands shook. “What is that?” he asked.
“That’s us firing. “ Saby’s voice was faint. Scared-sounding. “We fired once as we came out. Inertial-mass ordnance goes a major fraction of light, then. Whoever we’re shooting at… for him to fire upslope, ‘s too far for his missiles, even internal propulsions. He’s got to hope we run into it. Seen this before, thanks. Don’t like it.”
Patrick, Capella had said—when had she said?—This Patrick, navigator. Like her. Another one that saw in the dark. Saw them—the way he’d seen—
Once you, you know, become aware…
Colors running. Sound coming at them… weaving back and forth, through bone and brain…
Another volley.
Couldn’t get the damn ‘pack tube free. Hands trembled. Saby was beside him, trying to get herself collected. They were lying in a nest of spent nutri-packs.
Gets cold. Gets lonely. Tommy-love.
—iv—
NOTE ON THE PRESSURE-SLATE: propped up and braced against Austin’s number one monitor, in an all-too-familiar hand: I got us here. Spook rode us all the way, entrained a third ship of some kind, likely a light-armed freighter. Check screen. Sorry—Viking try was screwed, mass far exceeding brake with spook and freighter in packet.
FYI: hulk is heavy armed and will fire if we don’t provide keycard in airlock slot as usual within one hour from our crossing her perimeter, with firing in system. Always true. Now you need to know. If, arriving in her perimeter, we move any direction but toward her—she is not our friend. Maneuver or delay of approach not advisable. Patrick wants the key-card. May try to cripple, not kill. Respectfully, sir, suggest you not bet the ship on it. PS. You want Patrick’s ass, you put card in the wreck’s cargo console slot, input code HAVOC. Absolute necessity you do this or we don’t leave. Meanwhile will lay course for next point. Must offload all cargo mass to reach. Safe port—distance 7 lights. Capella.
“Bloody hell!”
He shot a look toward Capella’s station. Capella’s back was turned. The second chief navigator was busy. Austin took a swallow, forced it down, stared at the nav screen that came up on his second monitor, first-formed data.
There wasn’t any port out of Tripoint that lay at seven lights. Not Pell. Not Viking. Loaded, they couldn’t do it. Unloaded, even, it was a stretch for Corinthian.
And where, for God’s sake? What dark spot in the universe was the woman calc’ing jump for?
Meanwhile the ship was trimming up, under Beatrice’s hands, with increasing jolts of the attitude jets.
Hard jolt. Stomach heaved. He grabbed another nutri-pack from the clip, ripped the tube out, sucked down a mouthful of copper-tasting fluid as navigation data arrived suddenly on his screen, first re-make since the drop.