Read Online Rebel (Rebel Stars Book 0) by Edward W. Robertson - Free Book Online
Authors: Edward W. Robertson
Tags: Nightmare
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scream or to fracture her metacarpals punching the inside of the cab.
That afternoon, on break, she found herself the only one aboard the Turtle ; even Genner had gone down to the pit to assist with the vessel's excavation, exploration, and cataloguing. Rada stared at the dispenser. Sometimes, she was in the carts for hours at a time. Drying out all the while. Body and mind growing irritable. Pained. In that state, she was more likely to make a mistake than if she maintained a steady buzz. Problem was, the cart had cameras. Parson had overlooked her drinking earlier, but now that she was back on the job, he seemed to assume she had cut herself off. If he caught her, she'd be suspended. Maybe until the dig was over.
She wasn't always in the cart, though. Her task entailed delivering the detritus to a dumping ground removed from the site. Often, she had to hop out and scrape accreted ice from the cart. At those times, she was off-camera.
She filled a bottle with pig and got back to work. On her first delivery, she got out, knocked some ice from the cart, then wandered behind the ridge and poured a stiff drink into her suit's feeder. She crunched back to the cart. No one said a word.
Her routine became something that would have horrified her mere months ago. Get up, fortify herself against the hangover; head out to cart duty, maintaining her levels throughout the work day; come home to her bunk and get rip-roaring drunk.
It seemed to work. She made no major gaffes. She rarely spoke to anyone during the day, and they knew better than to bother her at night. She knew it wasn't a genuine solution —it wasn't the kind of strategy you built retirement plans around—but all she wanted was to get through Stem's aftermath. Once they were off Nereid and she was rich, she'd send herself to a spa or a tropical island. Get herself straight.
On her third day of her temporary solution, she drove the cart from the pit, rolled across the ice, and descended to the hollow where she'd been dumping the detritus. She got out, whacked ice from the cart's sensors and wheel wells. Wandered behind a shelf of ice. And sat down for a drink.
The sky looked as it always did: a black screen pierced by silver stars. Despite her familiarity with it, she'd spent a lot of time looking up at it lately. It helped to be reminded how small she was, how little of anything there was, how even stars died in their time.
She cocked her head. One of those stars was moving. At first she assumed it must be a meteor, or a comet inbound from the Oort Cloud, but then its course bent, disappearing behind the shelf of ice. Could be it was one of Benez's ships, but if Parson had expected someone, he would have let them know. She picked herself up and trudged around the protrusion, then climbed the slippery ramp to where the cart was parked.
As she neared the rise, her comm kicked in. Parson's voice was frantic, high-pitched. "…five seconds. Find somewhere stable and get down!"
Rada broke into a run, long strides sailing over the ridged ice. Straight ahead, another star grew in size, growing brighter by the instant.
"Do we have any idea who they are?" Genner said.
The falling star became a white flare.
"No," Parson said. "No response at—"
The star, which Rada now understood was a missile, speared from the sky and disappeared behind a mound of ice. A blinding half-sphere of light burst from the horizon. It swelled upwards, turning red as it burned out.
"The Turtle ," Parson said. "It's…gone."
SHIP'S LOG: 2
On the bridge, Tton whirled on me. "This is your fault. You have destroyed us!"
"Me?" I surged to my feet. "I did nothing!"
"Your doubt of our cause poisoned our pursuit of the Way."
"Doubt did not crash the whaleship. Human life persists. Fights on. Perhaps that is the Way."
"Enough," Captain Ffel declared. "It is done. All that remains is to act."
Ollot moved to gaze at the screen, the sight of the great ship smoking in the bay. "What are our
That afternoon, on break, she found herself the only one aboard the Turtle ; even Genner had gone down to the pit to assist with the vessel's excavation, exploration, and cataloguing. Rada stared at the dispenser. Sometimes, she was in the carts for hours at a time. Drying out all the while. Body and mind growing irritable. Pained. In that state, she was more likely to make a mistake than if she maintained a steady buzz. Problem was, the cart had cameras. Parson had overlooked her drinking earlier, but now that she was back on the job, he seemed to assume she had cut herself off. If he caught her, she'd be suspended. Maybe until the dig was over.
She wasn't always in the cart, though. Her task entailed delivering the detritus to a dumping ground removed from the site. Often, she had to hop out and scrape accreted ice from the cart. At those times, she was off-camera.
She filled a bottle with pig and got back to work. On her first delivery, she got out, knocked some ice from the cart, then wandered behind the ridge and poured a stiff drink into her suit's feeder. She crunched back to the cart. No one said a word.
Her routine became something that would have horrified her mere months ago. Get up, fortify herself against the hangover; head out to cart duty, maintaining her levels throughout the work day; come home to her bunk and get rip-roaring drunk.
It seemed to work. She made no major gaffes. She rarely spoke to anyone during the day, and they knew better than to bother her at night. She knew it wasn't a genuine solution —it wasn't the kind of strategy you built retirement plans around—but all she wanted was to get through Stem's aftermath. Once they were off Nereid and she was rich, she'd send herself to a spa or a tropical island. Get herself straight.
On her third day of her temporary solution, she drove the cart from the pit, rolled across the ice, and descended to the hollow where she'd been dumping the detritus. She got out, whacked ice from the cart's sensors and wheel wells. Wandered behind a shelf of ice. And sat down for a drink.
The sky looked as it always did: a black screen pierced by silver stars. Despite her familiarity with it, she'd spent a lot of time looking up at it lately. It helped to be reminded how small she was, how little of anything there was, how even stars died in their time.
She cocked her head. One of those stars was moving. At first she assumed it must be a meteor, or a comet inbound from the Oort Cloud, but then its course bent, disappearing behind the shelf of ice. Could be it was one of Benez's ships, but if Parson had expected someone, he would have let them know. She picked herself up and trudged around the protrusion, then climbed the slippery ramp to where the cart was parked.
As she neared the rise, her comm kicked in. Parson's voice was frantic, high-pitched. "…five seconds. Find somewhere stable and get down!"
Rada broke into a run, long strides sailing over the ridged ice. Straight ahead, another star grew in size, growing brighter by the instant.
"Do we have any idea who they are?" Genner said.
The falling star became a white flare.
"No," Parson said. "No response at—"
The star, which Rada now understood was a missile, speared from the sky and disappeared behind a mound of ice. A blinding half-sphere of light burst from the horizon. It swelled upwards, turning red as it burned out.
"The Turtle ," Parson said. "It's…gone."
SHIP'S LOG: 2
On the bridge, Tton whirled on me. "This is your fault. You have destroyed us!"
"Me?" I surged to my feet. "I did nothing!"
"Your doubt of our cause poisoned our pursuit of the Way."
"Doubt did not crash the whaleship. Human life persists. Fights on. Perhaps that is the Way."
"Enough," Captain Ffel declared. "It is done. All that remains is to act."
Ollot moved to gaze at the screen, the sight of the great ship smoking in the bay. "What are our
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