Sarah Zettel - Fool's War

“Four…three…two…one.”

The torch burn doubled and gravity pressed down. Yerusha sank into her chair and labored to keep her head tilted forward so she had a clear view of the boards. Without her noticing, her hands pressed flat against the boards. Her feet tried to dig into the deck.

She took several deep breaths with her lungs sagging inside her suddenly restrictive chest, and lifted her hands with exaggerated care. Moving too fast in free fall gave you a good chance of injuring your surroundings. Moving too fast in extra gees gave you a good chance of injuring yourself. She picked up her heavy pen with clumsy fingers and wrote the order for a status update.

Green, green, and green. According to the ship’s system, everything was working fine. The silence on the intercom confirmed it. No new lines appeared on the view screen. The navigation display altered as they shot through space, but it didn’t show any new ships in their way. The view from the window and the cameras remained clear. Yerusha let her sense of urgency relax a little. It might just be that things were under control back at the port. Maybe the panic was over and they were really out of here.

Her shoulders sagged into the chair’s padding. She flicked her eyes up and checked the clock. There were four hours and fifty-six minutes of heavy acceleration left. She shifted heavily and tried to get comfortable. She had to keep her eyes on the screens for twice that long, just in case.

She was suddenly keenly aware of Cheney’s empty chair.

You said this ship’s runs were uneventful, she thought. Didn’t your mother teach you about lying?

On her main view screen, Al Shei watched the silver refraction bubble enclose the ship. Even though Ianiai was sitting right next to her, she allowed herself a long, relieved sigh. She lifted the coffee bulb off the board in front of her, stared for a moment into the stone cold dregs and put it back down.

She unfastened her straps and climbed stiffly to her feet. She’d gotten up three times in the past twelve hours to use the head, but other than that, she’d remained fastened to her station, watching the readings and hoping the intercom would stay quiet. Twice Chandra had come around with food and coffee, reporting that Baldassare and the steward Dalziel were making the rounds on the other decks.

If I had any money you’d all get a raise , she thought towards the coffee as she stood up and stretched her arms back. “Relief!”

As Ianiai took her seat, she glanced at the clock. “Javerri will be relieving you in ten. Stay sharp.”

Al Shei left engineering and climbed towards the berthing deck. The brief feeling of accomplishment that had come when the fast-time jump went off without a hitch faded away. She was left with the memory of everything she had learned on the Farther Kingdom.

She closed the cabin door and sat at the desk. “Intercom to Lipinski,” she said.

“Here, Engine.”

“I need you to tap into the bank lines,” she said. “I’ll transfer the credit for it. We’ve got to get the latest…developments to Asil so he can file a fraud charge against Amory Dane.”

“On it,” he said. “I’ll call you when we’ve got an opening.”

“Intercom to close.” She pulled her hijab off and ruffled her hair. She glanced towards the door and prayed it would stay shut long enough for her to rest just these few minutes. “System, open Asil Day Book, day ten.” Only ten days. It feels like it’s been a year.

“Hello, Beloved,” Asil’s voice was warm, but tried. “Storms are brewing on the horizon today. Uncle Ahmet says that we’ve taken on a questionable credit source, and he’s being very vocal about it. I am double checking his information, but it does not look good. We’ve got enough to cover it, but it’s going to cut into the liquid funds by about five percent.” She could see him giving his wan smile and an easy shrug. “I’ll have the numbers run tomorrow, if it comes to that.” Al Shei twisted her hijab in her hands. She’d forgotten this would be coming up. They had taken a bad source. They had lost the money. Asil had been very upset with himself about it, even when she got home months later. They had been hoping to make some of it up this run.

“There is good news though…” Asil’s voice rolled on, talking about new contracts and the details of the children’s days. She could hear his spirits lifting as he spoke, and knew he was thinking about how the news would affect her. How she would be comforted and warmed and reminded of her other home and her other life and his steady love.

“We’ll make it yet, Beloved,” she said to the wall as his voice paused.

“I love you, Katmer. Good-night.”

She sat in the silence that followed, running her hijab through her fingers. They’d be talking in a few minutes. They’d be taking steps to right this whole mess. Nothing was over yet. Nothing was sealed or signed. They’d work something out. They always had. Her memory was filled with countless scenes of Asil close beside her while they poured over a contract or projection, or studied merits of school programs for the children, or even selected an economic caterer for a family event. They could work anything out. It was something they were not only good at, but proud of.

“Intercom to Al Shei.” Lipinski’s voice interrupted her reverie. “Engine, we’ve got a problem.”

You mean another problem. Even though he couldn’t see her, Al Shei wrapped her veil back around her face and tucked it into the high collar of her tunic in an attempt to get ready for action.

“What is it, Huston?”

He was silent for a moment. “I can’t find the IBN line.”

“What?” She couldn’t stop herself from blurting the word out.

“I can’t find the IBN line,” he repeated. “It’s not on the recorded path. I’m putting through a search, but…” he coughed. “We, um, might be having trouble with our passenger. I’m getting a couple of flickers on Dobbs’ watchdogs here…”

A warning bell sounded low and heavy in the back of Al Shei’s mind. Too many things had gone wrong on this run for her to keep from thinking the worst. The Intersystem Bank Network had to be there, almost by definition. If they couldn’t reach it…was there lingering damage from the previous jump, or had Dobbs already lost control of…the passenger?

A slow chill crawled up her spine. Lipinski couldn’t find the bank network, he couldn’t find Asil.

“Intercom to Dobbs.”

“Dobbs here,” she answered. “What’s up, Boss?”

“You clear?” she asked, despite the urgency of the situation, feeling somewhat ridiculous.

“Clear,” answered Dobbs, amiably. “As I say, what’s up?”

Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve. “Dobbs, is our…passenger secure?”

“Still and steady, according to my watchdog,” she answered. “Why?”

Al Shei frowned. “Lipinski says he’s getting…flickers in here, and we can’t get a fix on the bank lines.”

Dobbs was silent. “Okay. I’ll… double check. It’ll put me out of circulation for a few hours.”

“All right. Go to it.” She shut the intercom down.

Do not let it go, Dobbs. She thought with a force that surprised her. Do not let us down. I will find a way to make you regret it if you do. She tried to stifle the thought, but could not.

The intercom closed down and Dobbs laid her hand on her silent desk. She had had the watchdog program had been running constantly and there had not been a flicker in twelve hours. She could call down to Lipinski and tell him that. She could talk herself blue in the face. She could put all her training in subtle persuasion behind her words, and he still would not completely believe her.