His son dismounted from the creature, taking the cutlass pieces, still dripping with gore, out of its dead carcass. With a yell and a strain of spent muscles Kitai stared down at the beast, daring it to move.
Two more taps, and the cutlass pieces reshaped themselves into the sickle swords. Cypher felt a chill run through his body, seeing his son, now a man. A warrior.
A Ranger.
Kitai felt no joy. He also felt no fear. The threat had been dispatched, and he remained in place, studying the beast. He noted that his shredded lifesuit had shifted from black to rust, the smart fabric no longer sensing immediate danger.
Wiping the gore from the blades on the ash-covered hide, he brought the two pieces together and re-formed the cutlass into a single tool. Climbing down from the beast, he walked over to his fallen backpack and retrieved it. Once it was in place, he affixed the cutlass to it and began to walk higher up the mountain.
Still feeling in command of his surroundings, Kitai was bursting with controlled energy and used it to propel himself gracefully up the mountain. The rock and ash soon were joined by snow until his boots sank centimeters into pure white powder. The temperature dropped with each kilometer he walked, and still he climbed undeterred. Thoughts of exhaustion, hunger, and pain did not exist. Only the mission did.
He had to blink twice to clear his mind as he reached the peak. There, atop the world, he saw for a hundred kilometers or more all around. Instead of admiring the world in its natural beauty, he focused on powering up the homing beacon, and within moments it had cycled to life and signaled readiness. With one hand, he raised it high into the cool air, slamming the button that would summon help.
The beacon thrummed with power, and a bright white light raced into the starry night. He knew that the humans were wise when they left Earth. Between here and Nova Prime, the arks dropped buoy satellites. They were dubbed breadcrumbs and acted as tethers between worlds. Now the ancient satellites would act as relays, ensuring that the signal would race across the light-years home.
The signal sent, Kitai was satisfied this phase of the mission was completed. He could return to his father and care for him, keep him alive, until help arrived.
1000 AE
Somewhere in Space
Cypher Raige was not entirely sure what happened after he saw Kitai begin his final ascent to the top of the mountain. His fever was higher, and he no longer had the adrenaline surge to keep him focused. Instead, delirious, he succumbed, satisfied that help was coming.
The next thing he saw was a thin, bright vertical line. Something was cutting into the darkness. He had no idea how much time had passed or why the Hesper had grown dark.
He saw figures, two, maybe three, maybe six. All he could make out was the shapes with bright light behind them. He saw something silvery, too, but had no idea what he was looking at. People said that when you died, you sometimes saw a white light and you were to walk toward it. He never imagined heaven having Rangers waiting to greet him. Maybe being Prime Commander had its perks after all.
If I’m dying, I shouldn’t still be feeling so much pain, should I? And if I were dead, why do I feel like I’m being gripped and lifted?
He shut his eyes and drifted off.
Next thing he knew, he was being carried. It was a feeling he recognized, and that meant he was not dead. At least not yet. He was now inside the silvery space. Was it the belly of Moby Dick? Were an Ursa’s innards silver? No, it was an artificial setting, not organic. That was when his mind told him he was being carried between ships, between the wreck of the Hesper and the rescue ship.
Kitai’s signal had gotten through.
Kitai, finally feeling rested and refreshed after being rescued, wished he had something other than his tattered lifesuit to wear. He would have liked a Ranger uniform, but that would come with time. There was no way Velan could refuse him now.
He had dreamed of surpassing all the Raiges who’d preceded him, up to and including the general. After his experience on Earth, he might not be quite ready to surpass his father, but he felt that he was much farther along than he’d been a few days earlier. Amazingly, it had been just a week before that he’d been on Nova Prime, feeling like life had kicked him in the teeth. Now he had visited Earth, seen amazing things, and single-handedly killed an Ursa. Kitai still needed time to process all he had experienced and accomplished.
The rescue ship arrived as if by magic, a feat of Lightstream engineering he was curious to learn about, but for now he was just glad they had come and gotten to his father first. He was hours from death, and their emergency medical section allowed the Rangers to stanch the blood loss and repair the damage. Cypher had done much to help his own condition, but now the medics had to worry about infection and repair. It would be some time before they knew the full extent of his injuries and recovery time.
Kitai was just happy to have his dad alive.
Walking through the main corridor of the class-B ship, he watched as Rangers did their duty with precision and little chatter. Then he came across a technician studying a monitor that appeared familiar. Before the man was a silver device that was physically connected to the console. It had to be the recorder that every ship contained, filled with all pertinent data and logs for just such occurrences. On the screen he recognized the image: the unaware Ursa. Kitai slowed down and watched in fascination, barely remembering what he’d endured. The creature really had had no idea where Kitai was, had truly lost the scent.
Sensing he was no longer alone, the technician, an older man, turned and studied Kitai. He looked once at the screen, then looked back at Kitai. The teen saw a shift in the man’s expression. He was clearly impressed by Kitai’s efforts on Earth. Curiosity was replaced with something else.
Respect.
It was only after he was rescued, after some sleep and hot soup, that Kitai had a chance to reflect on all he had done. He had wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, wanted to be a Ranger. What he never had anticipated was that he would become a Ghost, too. He was the eighth, part of an elite group.
Kitai continued to move through the ship until he reached the small room where his father, the Original Ghost, rested on a cot, attended by two medics. He looked better than he had before they’d left Earth’s surface, which pleased Kitai. Still, he was paler than usual, a look of pain on his face that no drug could treat. Under the blankets, Kitai knew his mangled leg was healing but might never recover fully.
They were checking vitals and generally fussing over him, so it took Cypher a few moments before he realized his son was standing in the entrance. When he did, he interrupted them and spoke.
“Stand me up.”
The medics looked from one to another and then down to the man on the cot. It pained Kitai to see his father so helpless. So normal.
“General…” one of them said.
“I said stand me up!”
Without waiting, Cypher started to sit up, prompting the medics to swing into motion. They helped him rise, and that was when Kitai realized it was both legs that had been so badly damaged. They were encased in braces that helped administer painkillers, stimulate cellular regeneration, and provide support. The medics helped him swing the braced legs to the deck, and then each took an arm and helped Cypher rise to his feet. The effort took a lot out of his father, who winced but gritted his teeth and made it to an upright position.
Father and son studied each other for a long, silent moment.