Ghost Light Burn Page 2

  Satisfied that neither ey nor the others were in imminent peril, ey pulsed es normal space drive field gingerly to bring them to a stop. Ey cycled down the main drives to the bare minimum, just enough to keep emself from drifting. Relief coursed through es systems as the strain on them eased.

  Less than thirty seconds had elapsed since their return to normal space, but ey still felt logy and disoriented. I’m slowing down in my dotage, ey thought.

  Ey keyed the gentle release of the crash fields, es internal atmosphere softening slowly around the three fragile human bodies and lowering them. Ey saw them shift their positions slowly and felt, through es monitors, their muscles protesting from the sudden immobilization that had saved their lives.

  A thought brought back the damage and pain sensors from es damaged systems and ey winced at the cascade of unpleasant sensations coursing through em.

  I’m not going to die, ey thought. I am not going to die.

  A sigh coursed through em.

  No, you’re not. You’re just going to hurt for a while.

  Ey brought es repair systems online and felt a flush as the nanorepair mesh sought out and began to seal microfissures in es hull. The system catalogued larger system failures, ranking them in terms of severity, along axes of danger to em and to the humans, allowing em to adjust priorities for the Limited Intelligence repair drones to begin their heavier work. As ey studied the reams of data flowing from the damage control system, ey executed an emotional subroutine that was analogous to a frown. It was obvious that the baffles bore the crux of the damage and required the most repair work, however the nanorepair systems already felt gluey and sluggish. The correction rates were already falling far behind what the remainder of the system reported. Curious, ey sent two of the external repair LIs to investigate. Ey felt the cowlings in es hull folding back as the basket-sized drones unfolded from their niches and spread their array of manipulators and tools. Like some kind of metal parasite, they clambered out onto es hull and skittered in the direction of the damaged baffles.

  But as ey watched, the drones’ pace slowed as they approached the external drive system, becoming more erratic the closer they came. Finally, about two metres from their goal, the drones came to a quivering halt, their telemetry relaying nothing but gibberish.

  That is not good, ey thought. Not good at all.

  Lexa-Blue pulled herself up from the deck, shaking her head to clear it. Through her node, she felt the damage to Keene’s shoulder, and the auto-doc cycling to life to deal with it. Ember’s groans, she heard out loud. All around her was chaos. Despite keeping their common spaces as tidy as possible, always ensuring that loose gear was safely stowed, day-to-day living always left its mark. And while the crash fields had prevented much in the way of breakables being damaged, there was still mess strewn across the decking.

  Ember was already standing, his pants hiked down to show an already lividly purpling bruise across his buttock. “Man, will you look at my ass?” he said.

  “We’ve both seen it,” she said, sourly, as rippling aches coursed through her body.

  “What the hell happened?” Ember said, covering himself again.

  “I wish I knew,” she said. “What’s the skinny, Junkpile? Are we going to die?”

  There was a pause before Vrick answered, which was disquieting in itself. “We hit something. Or rather, something hit us.”

  She exchanged a look with both of the men. “In interspace? I thought that was impossible.”

  “So did I,” Vrick said. “At least we survived learning that we were wrong.”

  “Yeah, but still not fun,” Keene said through gritted teeth as he cradled his right arm. Which, Lexa-Blue noted, was jutting at an unnatural angle. “Okay, auto-doc first, questions later,” she said.

  “I approve of this plan,” Keene said, as both Lexa-Blue and Ember took positions at his side to help support him back to the alcove that housed their auto-doc.

  They eased him gently into the system, leaning him against the adjustable bed, which was now against the bulkhead at only a slight angle. As she gentled him into position, she felt every wince that went through him as the doc cut through his shipsuit and exposed the injured shoulder. A sidelong glance at the doc’s panel showed that the pain management system was already keying into his system and dosing him up. She turned back to look at his face and saw the tautness around his eyes ease.

  “That’s it,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Let the doc do its work.”

  As she spoke, the auto-doc’s manipulator surface shaped out from the wall panel and covered Keene’s injured shoulder. Lexa-Blue saw the readings for pain management spike, and then the snap of the manipulator as it pushed Keene’s shoulder back into place. The doc hissed as it applied a malleable dressing to the bare, bruised skin.

  “Oh, now, that’s better,” Keene said, drowsily. “Much better.”

  Lexa-Blue sagged in relief, suddenly feeling her own aches and pains catching up with her. “What about you, squib? Is that ass going to need attention?”

  “Well, not from the auto-doc, anyway,” Ember said with a grin. “It’s just a bruise. Not pretty, but it doesn’t require any urgent attention.”

  She turned to the cabinet behind her and rifled through it, coming out with a small jar of ointment. “Put this on it. Should make it go away faster. No damage to the hardware?”

  Ember patted his thigh where the jet-black cybernetic prosthesis melded with his leg. “This thing?” he said. “I bet if we’d blown up, it would have just floated on without us. Same with this chunk.” He ran a hand along his side, where another piece of the prosthetic replaced a portion of his torso.

  “Let’s not put that theory to the test anytime soon, okay?” she said. “I think we almost did,” Ember said. “What’s the story, Vrick? Any idea what happened?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say we hit a poly-resonant Q wave substring filament. The latest interspace theories say they’re possible, but incredibly rare.”

  “Of course,” Lexa-Blue said, rolling her eyes. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Don’t hate me because I can think in higher dimension interspace mathematics,” Vrick said, pitching es tone into perfect, guileless innocence. “The problem is that the residual radiation traces are interfering with my repair drones. And if the repair drones can’t fix the damage, we can’t go back into interspace.”

  “And where are we now?” Lexa-Blue said.

  “About three years short of where we were headed if we continue at normal space velocities,” Vrick said.

  “Bad,” Ember said.

  “Very bad,” Lexa-Blue agreed.

  “The good news,” Vrick said, “is that you three can affect the repairs yourselves as the residual radiation is out of the range that’s dangerous to humans. And you know what that means.”

  “Oh, goody,” Lexa-Blue said, her tone thoroughly at odds with her words. “Space-walk.”

  “The thing is,” Vrick said, “it’s going to take all three of you.”

  “Is Keene going to be up for that?” Ember asked, looking down at Keene’s now relaxed face. “How bad is his shoulder?”

  “The doc is strapping it up now, he’ll be fine. As long as he’s careful.

  Give him an hour or so of rest and he’ll be raring to go.”

  “An hour of rest and a stim pack,” Lexa-Blue said. “You know what he’s like after a nap.”

  “Right,” Ember said, shuddering. “He once yelled at me for walking too loudly.”

  “We’ll have to risk it,” Vrick said. “Without those baffles, we’re not going anywhere. And I’d rather get the problem fixed and get us moving as soon as possible. There’s only so much we can do out here. I’d like to get into a proper repair facility and that’s not going to happen unless we get moving.”

  Ember sighed. “Why hasn’t your girlfriend finished installing all the Gates yet?”

  One of Lexa-Blue’s lovers,
Sindel Kestra, was the woman behind the implementation of the network of stations that would harness stable wormhole technology to connect the worlds of the Pan Galactum and eventually render interdrives obsolete.

  “I’ll have her get right on that,” Lexa-Blue said.

  While Sindel’s progress on the project had been phenomenal since she had taken it over, it still consisted of the eventual construction and engineering of massive stations in the vicinity of every planet in the Galactum, or at least, the ones with sufficient access to the lower dimensional substrate that made the technology possible. Locating sufficient construction material alone had been a monumental task. Mining and processing operations across the Galactum were working at capacity to fulfill the need for structural stone and exotic metals.

  “Come on, squib,” Lexa-Blue said. “We have a mess to clean up.”

  Keene swam up through layers of grey and dark, his mind struggling to clear itself. Dimly, he heard the auto-doc hiss, and recognized the sound of an injection being administered. His fogged mind began to clear, the mild stim washing away the effects of his short sleep.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he leaned forward and stepped down out of the auto-doc, rotating his shoulder to test it for pain and range of motion. Only the slightest twinge deep within the joint, and there was only the slightest inhibition to his movement, though the flex-dressing felt snug and constricting, and it stood out bright white against the rich brown of his skin.

  He joined the others in the lounge, where they were just finishing their cleanup of the accident’s mess. Lexa-Blue looked up at his entrance and grinned her lopsided grin.

  “Oh, sure,” she said to Ember. “Now he’s back. Some people will do anything to get out of cleaning up.”

  “How are you feeling?” Ember said. “Do I have to watch how I walk?” “Very funny,” Keene said, though he knew all too well how grouchy he was after naps. He moved his arm again to demonstrate his healing. “See? All better.”

  “Good thing too,” Lexa-Blue said. “Because we’re all on repair duty.” “What did we break this time?” Keene said.

  “Nullification baffles,” Vrick said.

  Keene gaped. “How did we manage that?”

  Lexa-Blue waved a hand and jumped in before Vrick could explain. “Blah blah, math. Blah blah, upper dimensional transquantum something, something. I think Junkpile just forgot how to drive.”

  “That’s it,” Vrick said. “I’m going to have internal manipulators installed just so I can smack you.”

  “No need for that,” Ember said. “I’m sure the repair drones will be happy to do it for you. I saw her kick one last week.”

  “That was self-defense,” Lexa-Blue said. “It was plotting something.

  I know it.”

  “Be that as it may,” Keene said, forestalling further conversation on an incipient repair drone uprising, “do we have a repair plan in place?” “We do,” Vrick said. “I’m going to need you all to go EVA and do

  some manual clear and replace.”

  “Of course,” Keene said. “Any of those higher dimensional particles would leave too much far band radiation for the repair drones to work.” “Thank you,” Vrick said. “It’s nice to talk to someone who can

  appreciate the scientific aspects.”

  “Oh, come on,” Lexa-Blue said. “Ey must have coached you or something. There’s no way you just had that answer ready.”

  “You should see the things he reads before bed,” Ember said, rolling his eyes. “Just being in the same room with those texts puts me to sleep.” “All right, all right,” Keene said. “Maybe we can save the criticism of

  my reading habits for after we’ve gotten moving again?”

  “Yes, please,” Vrick said. “I’m getting twitchy not being able to move.” “Are you up for this?” Lexa-Blue asked. “How’s the shoulder feel?” “It’s a bit stiff,” Keene said, rolling and stretching the joint. “Twinges

  a bit, but it’s well strapped and the doc says I’m certified fit enough for suit work.”

  “Okay then,” Lexa-Blue said. “Time to suit up.”

  The three of them headed to the port side EVA airlock and began stripping down to their underwear. A palm touch from Keene and a section of the wall slid back to reveal the suit locker. Inside the recessed space, the three reinforced steelskin pressure suits hung like vividly coloured but deflated balloons: scarlet red for Lexa-Blue, bright peacock blue for Keene, and a vivid royal purple for Ember.

  They suited up with practiced ease, having drilled and drilled, like every spacer, until they could don a pressure suit half-conscious and with their eyes closed. Once the final clasps and seals were closed, and the suits themselves signalled clear and pressurized, each performed a manual check on the others for any problems. Satisfied, they lined up at the airlock, waiting as Vrick put up the atmospheric field to cut off the rest of es interior, and then depressurized the enclosed space.

  As the airlock cycled open, the widening gap showed a stunning tableau of glittering stars, and Keene’s breath caught at the sight.

  *I will never get tired of this.*

  *You and me both, meat,* Vrick said. *And I get to see it see it a lot more than you do.*

  Keene bent his knees and pushed off the deck, the momentum lifting him and taking him up and out of the Maverick Heart into the sparkling dark. Readouts flashed across the inside of his helmet visor, showing the suit’s skin field was operating perfectly. A thought sent the field pushing against Vrick’s hull, taking him out of the way of the two others waiting in the airlock to join him.

  He hung there a moment, enjoying the complete relativism that EVA allowed. With nothing more than a shift in his perceptions, he went from being upright on a plane with the level of Vrick’s deck, to floating on his back with the ship below him. Another thought and he was looking straight down, the ship on es side above him. Keene reveled a moment in the dizzying shifts in perception. Up, down, side: all were just decisions he made in how he chose to view this cruelly beautiful environment.

  *That’s it, old timer, make way,* he heard Ember say, just as he caught sight of a flash of glowing purple jetting past him, below and to the left. Keene saw Ember’s motion come to a sudden halt, then saw his lover’s body twist up into a ball to reorient towards him and come to a stop, the plane of his body perpendicular to Keene.

  *Showoff,* he said. *You’re just jealous because you can’t beat me at ZeroBall any more,* Ember said with a laugh. *Not that you ever really could.*

  Before Keene could retort, Lexa-Blue’s voice cut them both off.

  *Break it up, you two. We have work to do.*

  *Some people are no fun at all,* Ember said.

  Lexa-Blue, in her new, scarlet exo-suit, lifted out to meet them, her exit much slower and more conservative than either of the men’s had been. With no excess motion, she joined them, the shiny metal of her suit catching starlight.

  *Seriously, Blue,* Keene said. *You have the highest exo rating of anyone I’ve ever known. You ace your certification every time. If anyone could lighten up about this a bit, it would be you.*

  *I was doing exo inspections and suit drills when I was five,* she said. *I may be good at it, but that doesn’t mean I like it. And I know what can go wrong out here. Better than most. You want playtime, stick to the ZeroBall court. This is work. If we don’t get those baffles cleared out and battened down properly, we’ll be a smear of sub particles the next time we jump to interspace.*

  Keene saw her drop out of his range of vision toward the underside of Vrick’s aft section and keyed his suit’s skin field to interact with Vrick’s hull and move him in the same direction. Through his node, he felt Ember falling in line behind them.

  The burnished pewter-coloured hull plating passed them, below them in Keene’s perspective, as he once again oriented himself to think of the stars as being above his head. Ahead of him and growing as they approached, he saw the transition baffle assembly where it extruded
from Vrick’s interspace drive. He could see where the assembly had been damaged, his years of travelling with Vrick making him all too aware of the distortions in the texture of the drive unit and its attendant mechanisms. Normally, Vrick’s LI drones would have repaired or jury-rigged any damaged systems, but this particular surface injury had thrown off the baffle calibration so thoroughly that the whole area was awash with a specific bandwidth of radiation that interfered with the drones’ ability to effect repairs. It was their job to first flush the area with a null rad emitter, then fix the worst of the damage and correct the energy leakage so that the drones and nanorepair systems could complete the final work. Arriving at the damaged assembly, they took up positions as they had agreed in their planning session. To a terrestrial observer, they would have looked ridiculous. Ember floated, to Keene’s perspective, upside down, his legs out to space and his arms working at opening up a cowling to expose what was beneath. Keene knelt on the underside of Vrick’s hull, the lower surface of the drive assembly acting as a floor of sorts.

  Lexa-Blue moved around them with deft, sure motions, the angle of her body shifting in relation to theirs as her tasks demanded.

  Keene felt a pang at the state of Vrick’s hull plating, scorched and pitted above his head. It had been a one in a million chance that had sent the space debris careening through es drive fields and into the baffle assembly. His shoulder still ached where the impact had slammed him into the bulkhead. Lexa-Blue and Ember had emerged with nothing more than their pride bruised. He’d definitely taken the worst of it. Other than Vrick, of course. After the dust had settled, the Artificial Sentience had seemed almost embarrassed by the accident, as if it pointed to some weakness of character to have been caught with es metaphorical pants down.

  *It came out of nowhere!* ey had said, as they assessed the damage. *And right at the weak point of the field refresh cycle. I mean, the odds were, if you’ll forgive the expression, astronomical.*