Loyalties (HMCS Borealis Book 3) Page 4

  "That has been suggested."

  Her eyes went to the far doorway, where the handmaidens and acolytes were watching them through a half-open door. "So," she said at last, "what of my people? What are the humans doing? There must be enough of them to stop the Horlan."

  "There might be," said Elan. He lifted his white shoulders momentarily out of the water, in the approximation of a shrug. "If they were to work together. But not all of them even agree that there's a problem. Until the Horlan invaded human space and started harvesting colonies, most of the humans thought it was all a Palani problem, and they shouldn't get involved."

  "For fuck's sake," said Heather, shaking her head. She sat up straight in the Pool, letting the pillow slip into the water. "It's always the same with us."

  Elan gave her hand a squeeze. "There is an old Palani joke about your people: 'Once again, the humans are at war with their natural enemy: the humans'."

  Heather shifted again on the seat, making the water ripple around her. She let go of Elan's hand long enough to grab the floating pillow and toss it out onto the frost-covered floor. "Are we all going to die because we're stupid?" She glared at Elan, still relaxed in his seat, his eternally calm face watching her. "I suppose you're going to tell me to calm down, for the good of the baby."

  She cursed herself: once again, she'd gone and let her mouth get away from her. She breathed in, an apology already on her lips.

  "No," Elan said, his voice calm. "Telling you not to get upset would be like telling a bird not to fly."

  The apology dissolved as a flush of heat rose to her cheeks. "So me getting pissed off is normal? It's what I do, is that what you're saying?"

  Elan's hand was still dangling over the partition between them, and he waggled his fingers until she sighed and reached up to take his hand again. His voice was like a soft melody. "I'm saying that your passion is part of what makes you who you are, and I love it very much."

  Heather was sitting upright now, her head and shoulders out of the water. The air was cold on her wet skin as she leaned forward against the partition. She couldn't think of what to say, as she looked down at the cold white hand she held in hers. It was so difficult to stay properly pissed off when Elan was around. He could probably calm a hurricane, if he just stood near it long enough.

  His fingers slipped out of hers, his hand gently sliding up her forearm. "We've had another message from Earth today."

  Heather felt herself go tense, even as she told herself not to. "My father."

  Elan nodded. "Yes. Your father's office called, and asked that you contact them."

  "His office called?" said Heather. "Not him, but his office?"

  "Yes."

  "So for years, when I was a nobody, he wasn't interested in speaking to me. But now that I'm a somebody, he wants to be my Dad again."

  "You've always been somebody," said Elan.

  "You know what I mean." She felt herself getting angry again. "And he can't even fucking do it himself, he just gets a flunky in his office to call. He summons me, Elan." Heather noticed her grip on the partition had tightened, but didn't care. "You see? It's all about him being in charge. He wants me to play his tune. As always. Well, he can go fuck himself."

  Elan's voice was gentle, but a smile creased his lips even as Heather frowned at him. "Humans keep saying that to each other. I do not think it is possible. Is it?"

  Heather snorted a laugh, which echoed in the chamber. "What a great picture you've just put in my mind."

  He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm going to start raising my temperature again," he said. "It will take a few days to get started."

  Heather reached up her other arm, placing her hand on his. "Somehow, you knew I was going to ask."

  Elan shook his head. "No, I would not make you ask. It's what I want. I want to sneak in and spend time with you, but your suite is a furnace."

  "I know," she said. "I've got the only bedroom on this planet that isn't frozen solid. I'd ask for a fireplace, but I'd be afraid of melting the world."

  Elan's smile spread to his eyes. "That might not be all bad."

  CHAPTER 4

  Small ships like the Nova Cat didn't have engine rooms. They had no wide-open machine spaces with room to move, work, and spread out. Calling the Nova Cat's engineering space a 'room' was optimistic. It was, at best, an engineering closet, a collection of cramped spaces barely large enough to fit the machines themselves, let alone any people trying to work on them.

  The reactor space was like an elevator shaft two stories tall. The original reactor would have been cramped enough when the ship was built, but somewhere along the line a newer Collingwood reactor had been installed. The fact that it had fit at all was a marvel of ingenuity. Hundreds of pipes, cables, and conduits had been rerouted, rearranged or rebuilt to fit into the shaft. There was barely enough space left to reach a hand into the gap between the reactor and the surrounding bulkheads. It was inevitable, that the parts they needed to work on were all around at the back of the reactor, and three metres up.

  Sap was back in there, somewhere. Eric could see Sap's foot, standing on a pipe fitting, his leg disappearing into the claustrophobic maze of plumbing and wiring.

  "Excuse me," said Sap. His soft voice was muffled in the confined space. "Eric?"

  Eric leaned further through the small access hatch, trying to get a better view. "Yes, Sap?"

  "Eric, what time is it?"

  "About one-thirty in the afternoon."

  "Oh. We will soon run out of time. Please pass me the torque wrench with the blue handle."

  Eric ducked out of the access hatch, returning to the open space of the cargo hold. Two stories high and fifteen metres long from bulkhead to ramp, it was the size of one of the hangars on the Borealis. Maya and Jerry had been steadily filling the hold with crates. They were all closed, but Eric could guess what was in them: jewellery, credit chips and heirlooms; valuables abandoned among the sea of luggage left behind in the starport terminal.

  Finding the wrench, Eric leaned back into the access hatch. He fed the tool, handle first, upward through the nightmare of pipes towards Sap's waggling fingers, which were barely visible behind some tubing. "Thank you," said Sap, grasping the wrench and pulling it out of Eric’s hand.

  "Hey, Eric." Maya’s voice startled him, and he almost hit his head on the hatch.

  Quickly pulling himself back out of the hatch, Eric saw Maya standing next to him. She was wiping her hands on her battered pants. "How's it going?" she asked.

  "It's going well."

  Jerry was walking toward them. "It's taking too damn long, is what. Let me see."

  Next to the hatch was the reactor control console, and Jerry pushed past Maya to look at it. Eric put one hand in front of Jerry. "Sap's still in there." The last thing they needed was for Jerry to do something impulsive.

  "Look buddy," said Jerry, "There's no way it should take this long. How do I even know that your friend knows what he's doing? Maybe he's making shit up about being a Mechanician level whatever."

  Sap's quiet voice came from the hatch. "Please do not initialise the reactor. I have the core open."

  Eric made eye contact with Jerry, who was glaring at him. He knew the clock was ticking; the Horlan could arrive in the system at any moment. He needed Maya and Jerry to trust Sap, but they didn't know the Dosh the way he did. "Please, let Sap do his job. He kept the Borealis running when no one else could."

  "Yeah yeah," huffed Jerry, stepping up to the console. He gave a poke at the screen, and Maya watched over his shoulder as data appeared. She whistled. "I've never seen so much green before," she said. "Look at the injector status: I've had the ship for three years, and injector alignment has never been green before."

  Jerry grunted. "Huh. Fine." He leaned down, his head near the access hatch. "So, uh, Saparun… see if you can pick up the pace, huh buddy?"

  "I understand," came Sap's rumbled reply. "Time's a-wasting."

  * * *

 
The afternoon was wearing on, and Eric was trying to keep his mind occupied. Every moment was bringing the Horlan nearer, but panicking wouldn't repair the reactor any faster. He watched Jerry, who stood at the top of the ramp, surveying the hold full of crates. He had a marker in his hand, and bent over to write something on a crate lid.

  "What's in that one?" asked Eric.

  Jerry glanced at him, pausing to suck on his teeth. Probably deciding whether or not to keep them in the dark. As long as they got safely off the planet before the Horlan flattened everything, Eric was more than happy to not debate the morality of looting.

  "You and us, we're not partners," said Jerry, "just so we're clear." His voice was quieter than usual, almost conspiratorial.

  "I understand that," said Eric.

  Jerry jerked a thumb toward the marked crate. "Ever heard of Seaton Metallurgy?"

  Eric nodded. "Sure. They're a few streets west of here. Been on the colony for ages."

  "Yeah. Did you know they make parts for jump drives?"

  "No, I had no idea." That was a surprise. He would've expected all industries involved with jump drives to be controlled by the military, not subcontracted out to a quiet colony near the edge of human space.

  Jerry held his hand up, fingers a short distance apart. "They made little iridium-plated things called 'compensators'. About this big. I figured they might have some iridium lying around."

  "Why wouldn't they have taken it with them?"

  "It's not in bars. They took that." Jerry smiled as he warmed to his story. "I figured they'd have a reclamation system, to make sure none of it's wasted. Any iridium in the system wouldn't be ready for transport if they had to leave in a hurry." He had a self-satisfied smirk. "Seven kilos. It's dust, but it's very pure."

  Eric’s eyebrows went up. "Seven kilos? That's huge."

  "I know, buddy, I know. The stuff's going for ten thousand credits per kilo. More if it's pure." He nodded to himself, turning to face the pile of crates. "This trip has already paid for itself. We could damn near buy a new ship with it."

  Eric wasn't convinced. The thing about opportunists, he thought, was that they often missed the important details. "So, who are you going to sell the iridium to?"

  Maya was standing on the catwalk up above, and he saw her frown at that. She'd probably been wondering the same thing. There was a war on. More and more of humanity was becoming involved, and millions of people were on the run. Profiteering was rampant, and human governments were cracking down on it.

  Jerry hardly seemed to hesitate. "Doesn't matter. We'll find someone. Even if we wind up leaving human space, we'll find someone. All the races are trying to build jump drives now." Eric looked up at Maya on the catwalk above. She looked skeptical, maybe even uncomfortable.

  There was a beeping from the reactor space. Not the normal chirping of the human-built datapads, but the squeaky, synthetic beep of Sap's Dosh-built pad. Four loud, fast beeps, then silence, then the beeping repeated. Eric jogged over to the access hatch, and leaned in as Sap said something. "Pardon, Sap?"

  Up above, he saw Sap squirming along the pipes and wires of the cramped reactor space. Somehow, he was able to move through the narrow gap between the reactor and the bulkheads that surrounded it. The datapad went off again, the same four loud beeps before it paused. Sap must've managed to get his hand to his pocket, because the datapad gave a single beep and went silent.

  "Is everything alright, Sap?" asked Eric.

  "No, it is not. My datapad's connection to the satellite has been lost."

  Eric's stomach tightened. "Oh, shit."

  "Indeed," said Sap. His voice was still calm, but his tone took on a deeper, sharper sound, his words more carefully pronounced. Sap did that when he was stressed, though he always denied it. "Either the satellite has coincidentally taken this moment to fail, or—"

  "Or it's been blown up," said Eric. His throat tightened, making his voice crack. "The Horlan are here, aren't they—"

  "Eric," interrupted Sap. "We no longer have time to do this properly. I am switching to human-style engineering."

  Eric nodded, though Sap couldn't see it. "You want the hammer?"

  "If you would, please. Quickly."

  Ducking back out of the hatch, Eric found a hammer among the pile of tools.

  "What's going on?" asked Maya. Jerry was still near the ramp, rearranging some crates.

  "Tell you in a sec," said Eric, leaning back into the hatch. "Here," he said, passing the hammer up through the maze of plumbing. Squeezing himself further through the hatch, he was able to poke the hammer the last few inches to Sap's waggling fingers. "Thank you," said Sap. "And, Eric?"

  Eric twisted his head to one side, until he saw one green eye looking back down at him. "Yes, Sap?"

  Sap's voice was such a rough rumble that Eric could barely make it out. "We're not dying here, Eric. Not today."

  "I believe you, Sap. If there's anyone who can do this, it's you. Tell me how I can help."

  He thought he saw Sap wink, though he could only see the one eye. "Eric, remember that part I was working on earlier? The brass-coloured metal ring, the one I drilled holes in?"

  "Yeah, it's right here."

  "Please clean it up as best you can, and pass it up to me."

  "Aye aye," said Eric.

  When Eric threaded his way back out of the reactor space, Maya and Jerry were waiting for him. "What's going on?" demanded Jerry. "Are the Horlan here?"

  "Probably," said Eric. He was searching for the part Sap wanted. "The colony's relay satellite just went offline."

  Jerry jabbed a finger toward the reactor hatch. "I told you! Your buddy's taking too damn long! We're gonna—"

  They were interrupted by a loud metallic clang from inside the reactor space. Before the noise had faded, it was followed by a barrage of hammering, a sharp ringing that filled the ship.

  Even as his own ears began to ring, Eric saw a look of horror appear on Maya's wide-eyed face. "Is that Saparun?" she asked.

  Eric nodded, snatching up the metal part and quickly rubbing it with a cloth. "Yeah."

  Maya stared at him. "So, a level seventeen Dosh Mechanician is—"

  "Yeah. Beating the shit out of stuff with a hammer."

  "Oh god," said Maya, putting her hand to her mouth. "We're fucked."

  Eric was focused on cleaning the small metal ring in his hand. "Not yet," he said, tossing the cloth aside. He leaned back into the access hatch, as Jerry swore and took off at a run, headed to the ramp.

  "Sap?" called Eric, between clangs. "Part ready."

  "Good," said Sap. There was a rattle, of the hammer being lodged somewhere, and up above Eric could see Sap twisting, trying to reach his arm downward. Eric, in turn, was contorting his body around the protruding pipes and hardware, stretching upward with his right hand, the part held between his fingertips. Only a few inches separated the part's gleaming metal from Sap's waggling red fingers.

  Everything went dark. Eric couldn't see his own hand, couldn't see the plumbing right in front of his face. "Oh no," he said, his chest tightening. "Oh shit."

  The rumble of Sap's voice came from the darkness. "The ship was connected to starport power, which has failed. The part, Eric."

  Eric felt the part move at the end of his outstretched fingers. He poked the part higher, balancing it on his fingertips, feeling Sap's fingers tapping at it from above.

  "Wait," said Sap, and Eric no longer felt Sap's fingers on the metal ring. "Hold it tight, Eric. If the Horlan have blown up the power plant, there will be a shock—"

  The ship lurched around them, uncountable parts rattling and groaning inside the reactor space. Eric struck his head on a pipe, and his fingertips touched the ring for the last time. As the ship continued to shake and rattle, the darkness filled with creaks and grinding sounds. Eric heard a clanging sound above him, then another beside him, then several noises below, as the metal ring clattered down through the reactor space to the bottom. "Fuck!" he shouted. "
Lost it."

  "— a shockwave," finished Sap. "That was about ten seconds after the power failed. The power plant is seventy-five kilometres away; I expect it has been destroyed. The sound will arrive in another three minutes."

  Eric saw a dim glow below him, as daylight from outside seeped into the hatch at the bottom of the reactor space. "Sorry, Sap."

  "Shit happens, Eric. Please retrieve the part."

  A cone of brilliant light invaded the reactor space, casting complex shadows as a flashlight illuminated the plumbing. Maya's wavering voice filled the chamber. "What's going on? Has it started? Are the Horlan here?"

  Eric called over his shoulder. "I don't know, Maya. We dropped that little metal ring. Do you see it down there?"

  The light turned away from Eric, setting him and Sap back into darkness as the bottom of the chamber was illuminated. After a moment, Maya called up. "You mean the inner plasma coil?"

  "Uh," said Eric. He realised he didn't know what it should be called.

  "Yes," said Sap. "That. Please pass it up."

  The light pointed upward again, momentarily blinding Eric. "Got it. Eric, can you reach?"

  "We almost had it."

  "Get out of there," said Maya. I'm thin and scrawny, I can fit better."

  Eric overruled his natural inclination to protest, to say that no, he could do it. They were out of time, and couldn't afford to drop the damn thing again. He quickly squirmed out of the hatch, ignoring the scrapes and bumps he received on the way.

  No sooner had he pulled his head out of the hatch, then Maya was shoving past him, twisting and turning her body as she climbed up into the reactor shaft. She easily fit where he couldn't, and before long only her dirty boots were visible. Eric craned his neck to look past Maya, but could only see her legs above him. "You good?" he asked.

  There was a violent jolt as the ship lurched. Eric's head bounced off the top of the hatchway and he yelped in pain as a flurry of curses came down from Maya. The ship shook again. All around him, plumbing rattled and shook; an ominous metallic groan echoed through the hull.