the middle chair of three placed strategically in front of the computer interface, the communication controls, and the gunnery controls.
“Hello, Riley,” the captain said, without turning.
“Your add-ons could get annoying,” Riley said.
“I like to unnerve people.”
“Particularly old friends.”
“Old maybe. Hardly friends.”
“We’d better get friendlier if we hope to survive,” Riley said. “This ship is a piece of junk that should have been scrapped. And the crew isn’t much better.”
The captain swung around. “We’ll have time to whip them into shape. This will be a long voyage.”
“We?”
“You’re going to have to help, Riley. And maybe Tordor, too, and the woman, Asha? You’ve all had ship-time experience, and the crew hasn’t.”
Riley was taken aback. “Asha, too?”
“So Tordor told me.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Maybe she had her reasons. You’re the X factor in this equation. Nobody knows why you’re here and what your intentions are—”
“Is that any different from anyone else?”
“—and I’m sure you’re not going to tell me,” the captain concluded. “You’re not like the rest of these pilgrims, or even like me. You aren’t a starry-eyed dreamer, longing for a grander state. You’re a pragmatist, and you’re a warrior. I’d say you were an assassin except I don’t know anybody aboard whose death would benefit anybody. We’re probably all on a one-way trip.”
That long outburst seemed to have exhausted the captain’s store of conversation. Riley stood in front of his old crewmate wondering if he should say something, if there was any way to address the captain’s accusations. There wasn’t. Not without revealing more than was wise or perhaps, considering his pedia, possible.
“For someone who couldn’t get along,” Riley said, “you and Tordor seemed to have shared a lot of confidences.”
“It was a charade, you know. Tordor knew that you were the natural choice but also that his fellow galactics wouldn’t accept you—or any human, for that matter—unless your choice became inevitable. We agreed on that.”
“I’m touched by your faith in me,” Riley said.
“Faith? No. Belief. Necessity. Tordor felt that way, too.”
“You struck it off.”
“He was the first galactic I’ve met who didn’t exhibit contempt for humans.”
“Or who concealed it best.”
“Maybe.”
“Where does the ship stand now?”
The captain waved a hand and a holographic display took shape above the control panel. At first, the absence of light made the representation seem like a black hole, and then Riley began to pick out a few dim points of light.
“That’s even more disturbing than the display in the passenger lounge,” Riley said.
“We don’t want to upset the passengers more than they already are. The display there isn’t doctored. It’s just a couple of Jumps delayed.”
“I’ll have to share this with them,” Riley said.
“I thought you would. It will help solidify your position with them.”
“Can I assure them that you know what you’re doing and where we’re going?”
“Only if you want to lie. How you handle the passengers is your problem now. You know my situation. I’m waiting for the next Jump coordinates, and there doesn’t seem like there’s much galaxy left.”
“And you want me to handle that?” Riley asked. When the captain swung back to the control panel without answering, Riley turned and went back the way he had come.
As he opened the hatchway door, his pedia said, “Duck.”
He ducked his head as he entered the passengers’ quarters and looked back at the hatchway. At neck level, he could now see, a nearly invisible line had been stretched across the entrance, at the right height to have decapitated him as he entered.
No one was around. Apparently everyone had retired to his or her or its quarters or cubicle. Riley got a pair of impervium gloves from his cubicle, carefully removed the
“Hello, Riley,” the captain said, without turning.
“Your add-ons could get annoying,” Riley said.
“I like to unnerve people.”
“Particularly old friends.”
“Old maybe. Hardly friends.”
“We’d better get friendlier if we hope to survive,” Riley said. “This ship is a piece of junk that should have been scrapped. And the crew isn’t much better.”
The captain swung around. “We’ll have time to whip them into shape. This will be a long voyage.”
“We?”
“You’re going to have to help, Riley. And maybe Tordor, too, and the woman, Asha? You’ve all had ship-time experience, and the crew hasn’t.”
Riley was taken aback. “Asha, too?”
“So Tordor told me.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Maybe she had her reasons. You’re the X factor in this equation. Nobody knows why you’re here and what your intentions are—”
“Is that any different from anyone else?”
“—and I’m sure you’re not going to tell me,” the captain concluded. “You’re not like the rest of these pilgrims, or even like me. You aren’t a starry-eyed dreamer, longing for a grander state. You’re a pragmatist, and you’re a warrior. I’d say you were an assassin except I don’t know anybody aboard whose death would benefit anybody. We’re probably all on a one-way trip.”
That long outburst seemed to have exhausted the captain’s store of conversation. Riley stood in front of his old crewmate wondering if he should say something, if there was any way to address the captain’s accusations. There wasn’t. Not without revealing more than was wise or perhaps, considering his pedia, possible.
“For someone who couldn’t get along,” Riley said, “you and Tordor seemed to have shared a lot of confidences.”
“It was a charade, you know. Tordor knew that you were the natural choice but also that his fellow galactics wouldn’t accept you—or any human, for that matter—unless your choice became inevitable. We agreed on that.”
“I’m touched by your faith in me,” Riley said.
“Faith? No. Belief. Necessity. Tordor felt that way, too.”
“You struck it off.”
“He was the first galactic I’ve met who didn’t exhibit contempt for humans.”
“Or who concealed it best.”
“Maybe.”
“Where does the ship stand now?”
The captain waved a hand and a holographic display took shape above the control panel. At first, the absence of light made the representation seem like a black hole, and then Riley began to pick out a few dim points of light.
“That’s even more disturbing than the display in the passenger lounge,” Riley said.
“We don’t want to upset the passengers more than they already are. The display there isn’t doctored. It’s just a couple of Jumps delayed.”
“I’ll have to share this with them,” Riley said.
“I thought you would. It will help solidify your position with them.”
“Can I assure them that you know what you’re doing and where we’re going?”
“Only if you want to lie. How you handle the passengers is your problem now. You know my situation. I’m waiting for the next Jump coordinates, and there doesn’t seem like there’s much galaxy left.”
“And you want me to handle that?” Riley asked. When the captain swung back to the control panel without answering, Riley turned and went back the way he had come.
As he opened the hatchway door, his pedia said, “Duck.”
He ducked his head as he entered the passengers’ quarters and looked back at the hatchway. At neck level, he could now see, a nearly invisible line had been stretched across the entrance, at the right height to have decapitated him as he entered.
No one was around. Apparently everyone had retired to his or her or its quarters or cubicle. Riley got a pair of impervium gloves from his cubicle, carefully removed the
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