“A celebration now, is it? Last I’d heard, you were all huddling and whispering like mice.”
Joelle nodded and adjusted her gown over her knees. It was sheer and as golden as flax. “Yes, but we soon tired of that and broke out the wine rations.”
It was Aldo’s turn to laugh. “Ah, perhaps I made a mistake by avoiding the event.”
“I believe you did.”
Aldo looked at her sharply. What was this girl hinting at now? She had made her disinterest plain…but now, here she was.
“Are you sulking in here, Aldo?” she asked him.
He took her question thoughtfully and nodded his head at last. “Maybe I am. I have to confess, this voyage has been difficult for me.”
“You’re a nomad, I know,” she said.
“So, why have you come to pester a sulking nomad?”
She stared at him and licked her lips. “Aren’t you afraid?”
“Of this passage? Not really. We’ll live or die, and I think the latter is unlikely.”
“No,” Joelle said, shaking her pretty head so her curls bobbled. “No, I don’t really mean that. I don’t think that’s it. I think the crew is afraid of the aliens. This is the closest we’ve come to them. Up until now, the mission has been long and dull. But now here we are, sliding past them. It’s all becoming more real now. That’s what they are afraid of.”
Aldo pursed his lips and nodded. “I see. I think you are right. That had not occurred to me.”
“But you’re different, aren’t you? You’ve fought them before, up close. No one else here has cut away alien limbs and lived. Only you.”
Aldo shrugged. He expected her to ask him next what it was like-what the aliens were like face-to-face. But she didn’t.
“You’ve met these terrible beings, and yet you’re not afraid now. Why is that?”
He saw she was serious, and really wanted an answer. He smiled at her slowly.
“Because, I’m not a farmer who has nervously joined this mission to guard my crops. I’m a killer, my dear. Just like the aliens themselves. They are very pure in their motives, as am I. They do not make me overly nervous, because I understand them. This is my game.”
She stared at him with wide, intense eyes of blue. “I thought it was something like that. You are different, and that has attracted me here. I’ve felt a fascination with your disinterested brooding for days. Do you know why that is?”
“It’s only natural to seek comfort in a dark moment.”
She agreed, and came to sit next to him on his bunk. Aldo set aside his sword for the time being. They drank wine together and began to lay hands upon one another, as he knew they eventually would.
They made love as Aareschlucht passed Gladius at unimaginable speeds in an endless dark sea of nothingness. No missiles, stabbing laser beams, or well-aimed rocks found them as they swept silently by.
Aldo knew a moment of peace with Joelle, as she did with him. It was sweet, but fleeting.
Eleven
Garth would never have made it across the vast ship if he hadn’t had specialized knowledge of its interior. Gladius was a vast structure, originally built over a century ago on Old Earth. Few colony worlds could hope to duplicate the technologies represented here, and even if they did, they could not have built it to last as this ship had. Garth had no inkling of the design goals or manufacturing technologies used in her construction, but he had an intimacy with her interior only a man who’d spent years aboard could. It is said no man knows a building better than its architect-save for its janitor. As a case in point, Garth knew in detail how a hundred tubes kinked and twisted in the guts of this vast ship. Pathways that would have left a shrade baffled were natural to him. He used that knowledge now to guide the Tulk who drove his body down the most rarely used sub-levels and Jefferies tubes.
At long last, they reached the lifeboat pods. A new problem presented itself at that point: most of the lifeboats had been dismantled. In shock, they viewed the situation from the darkest corners through grime-coated grates.
The aliens had taken apart a dozen vessels and built one larger shape with the parts. The ship was ungainly in appearance. Equipment had been randomly welded at various points upon the hull-but not welded in the traditional sense of melted alloys. A strange organic compound was used in most cases. It was a type of intelligent glue, as far as Garth could figure out. In any case, a glaze of it covered the ship and gave it an oddly glossed finish.
They are exiting the ship! cried Ornth inside their shared head. It is as I feared. They know this vessel is doomed and plan to flee.
I’m unconvinced, Garth said.
Your opinions are ill-conceived, and undesirable.
I managed to get us to this spot unseen, did I not? How many years have you spent studying and maintaining spacecraft?
The Tulk in his head did not answer. He often sulked like this when he didn’t like the results of one of their exchanges. Garth reflected briefly on how their relationship had changed over the preceding days. They’d started off antagonistically, but then as Garth played the role of subordinate, his opinions became steadily more acceptable to his Tulk rider. Now, they bickered like two surly roommates.
It does not matter, Garth said. Whether they are fleeing or planning to use this craft to invade Ignis Glace, it represents one of the few routes of escape.
We must board her, Ornth said.
Agreed. There is a route, but it will involve discomfort. The steam tubes under the ship are probably still connected. They are used to deice the vessel when it docks from suborbital missions.
Steam vents? We will be broiled alive.
First, we must steal a spacer’s suit. Then we will probably be able to survive the tubes.
I will shut off the sensory nerves to prevent discomfort.
Thank you, Garth said, surprised the Tulk would be so considerate.
You misunderstand. I will merely withdraw my spines from the sensory connection points, so I do not have to feel what you, my substandard mount feels. You will miss nothing.
Garth thought of a dozen angry retorts, but instead said nothing. If they escaped this deadly, terrifying environment, it would all be worth it. They would stow away, and exit when the situation warranted.
At least, that was the hope.
Aldo Moreno had been in love a dozen times, perhaps more. But this time, as he awakened beside Joelle Tolbert, he knew it wasn’t love he was feeling. His mind was filled with a heady blend of lust and triumph. It was a pleasant mixture of emotions by anyone’s measure.
He barely had time to watch her sleeping face and marvel at its smooth, carefree softness before they were rudely rousted from bed. A klaxon sounded, an irritating noise at the best of times. This morning, it was head-splitting after a night of drink and sex. Aldo rolled out of bed painfully, drew his power-sword and placed his thumb on the actuator. Joelle sat up and looked at him, blinking away her dreams.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. You’re navy, what’s that alarm?”
Joelle listened for a moment. “Proximity alarm. Something is coming nearby.”
“A meteor?”
“Perhaps. You’d best brace yourself, Aldo-”
She got no further before the ship lurched, heeled over and tossed her nude body rolling across the deck. Aldo had to twitch his blade upward to avoid skewering her by accident. Supporting himself by thrusting a hand through a loop that hung for the purpose from the curved ceiling overhead, he sheathed his sword.
The ship righted itself, then violently slewed in the opposite direction. Aldo helped Joelle get to her hands and knees.
“Evasive action,” she said. “There must be something on the detectors-something close.”
“At this speed?” Aldo asked. “We’d flash right by it. Why would we make more than one course correction, in any case? Once out of the object’s path, there should be no more maneuvers required.”