Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Legroeder peered out at the long, transparent tube stretched out between the two ships’ airlocks. He shivered at the thought of that frail protection between him and the naked Flux; but there was no help for it, and now the lieutenant was waving them into the airlock.

“After you,” said Deutsch, telescoping an arm forward. Legroeder grunted, then realized that Deutsch was probably ushering him ahead out of genuine consideration. After all, he had been looking for Impris far longer than Deutsch had. He nodded and stepped into the airlock.

Ship’s gravity ended at the outer airlock door, and they floated out into the tube with a lurch. Two Kyber crewmen were waiting in the tube to escort them through. Legroeder was embarrassed but grateful. The weightlessness was disconcerting enough—but that became incidental when he looked out through the clear wall of the tube.

It was like gazing into another reality. They were the same swirling mists he saw in the rigger-net; but here, viewed with the human eye, they looked far more perilous, as though at any moment they might engulf him in their churning energies. What would happen if the ships moved apart and the boarding tube came loose, spilling him and Deutsch into the Flux? What horrifying death would they encounter?

Legroeder shuddered and headed for the far airlock. But Deutsch seemed fixated by the Flux; he was floating at the tube wall, peering out, his head a Christmas tree of flickering augments. “Freem’n, c’mon!” Legroeder shouted.

Deutsch followed reluctantly.

Legroeder sighed with relief as they floated into the Impris airlock. He grabbed a handhold, but stumbled nonetheless as the Impris gravity-field brought him to the deck with a lurch. Deutsch, effortless on his levitators, reached out to steady his friend. The Kyber crewmen checked to see they were secure, then launched themselves back toward Phoenix .

The airlock closed, and the inner hatch opened. Standing before them were two more Kyber, plus a pair of unfamiliar crewmen wearing rumpled Impris uniforms. The starliner crewmen looked haggard, but eager. “Sirs!” cried one. “Welcome aboard!”

“Thank you,” said Legroeder. “We’d like to see your riggers and captain as soon as possible.”

“He said to bring you right away,” said the crewman in a strangely halting voice.

Legroeder started. Had that crewman just winked out for an instant, like a faulty holo? He wasn’t a holo, though; Legroeder’s nose told him that the crewman was overdue for a mist-shower.

“This way,” said the other.

Legroeder glanced at Deutsch. A tickle from his implants told him that Freem’n had seen it, too. Not good, he thought, as he turned to follow the crewmen down the ship’s corridor and—he hoped—toward the bridge.

Voices clamored as the bulkhead door opened. “Tiegs! Did you tell Poppy and Jamal to come out of there?”

“I told them, Captain.”

“Tell them again! Tell them I said now .”

As Deutsch and Legroeder stepped onto the bridge, they saw crew members scattered among various posts. The bridge itself looked different enough from modern designs to be noticeable—it had more silver and chrome, for one thing—and yet, it bore more similarities than differences. Apparently, ship design had been stable awhile. A tallish, white-haired man turned to greet them. He wore a tattered uniform jacket over rumpled leisure pants. His bright blue eyes looked more than a little wild. “You’re the riggers from Phoenix? ” he demanded. It was more a shout than a greeting.

“Uh—yes—” began Legroeder.

The escorting crewman cleared his throat. “This is Captain Friedman—Noel Friedman. Captain, Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch.”

“Welcome aboard!” the captain roared. “We’re sure as hell happy to see you people! How the hell did you find us, out here?”

“That’s a long story, Captain. I’d like to tell you about it when we have more—” Legroeder faltered, as he realized that Friedman was staring at Deutsch and not listening to a word. “Captain,” he said hastily, “Rigger Deutsch is from the Free Kyber worlds.”

“Free Kyber!”

“Yes, and I’m—well, from several worlds, I guess. Most recently, Faber Eridani.”

“Faber Eri?” Friedman barked. “ We’re out of Faber Eri. Is that where Phoenix is from? I thought they said someplace named Ivan.”

“Yessir. Phoenix is a Free Kyber ship, from Outpost Ivan. We’ve a mixed crew, including myself of the Centrist Worlds, and several Narseil members.”

“Narseil! Kyber!” Friedman exclaimed. “Are you all working together? Is the war over?”

“Yes—for more than a hundred years.”

“A hundred years!” Friedman looked from one to the other in astonishment. “Good Christ! Your captain said you’d been looking for us a long time, but… a hundred years? ”

“A hundred twenty-four, actually. I’m afraid a lot has happened since you left Faber Eridani.”

Friedman looked stunned. “I’m surprised anyone still remembers us,” he said softly.

“Well, that’s—”

“And yet, you came looking for us. Incredible.” Friedman frowned. “What about Fandrang? Gloris Fandrang. Is he still working?”

Legroeder shook his head. “No, sir, I’m afraid he died many years ago. But it was his report that got me started in my search. There have been—” he hesitated, not wanting to get sidetracked by complicated explanations “—searches for you before. You have been seen by other ships. But no one has ever figured out how to get to you .”

“Fandrang dead?” Friedman said thoughtfully. “Sweet Jesus. Pen Lee will be distressed to hear that. He’s already pretty shaky. He was Fandrang’s assistant, you know.” Friedman shook his head. “Has it really been—what did you say?—a hundred twenty years?”

“A hundred twenty-four,” said Deutsch, speaking for the first time.

Friedman gazed around his bridge, frowning. In one corner of the center monitor, Phoenix was visible, large against the Flux. Legroeder tried to imagine what the captain was thinking. How many friends, family members, loved ones had he left behind when he’d set out on his journey? None were left to greet him at home.

“So.” Friedman drew himself up and turned back to Legroeder and Deutsch. “Well, let me introduce you to my crew.” He brushed at his rumpled uniform. “I’m afraid our hospitality has gotten a little rusty. If you’d like to see the ship, we can arrange—”

Legroeder raised a hand to cut him off. “If we could do that later—right now, we want to talk to your riggers, to see if we can find out what happened to strand you here. We’re still working on the best way to get out of here—we’re in a fold in the underflux, you know, in a layer of the Deep Flux.”

“Deep Flux?” Friedman blinked. “Let me get my riggers. Tiegs! Have those men come out yet?”

“Coming now, skipper.”

“Good.” Friedman turned back to Legroeder and Deutsch. “We are more grateful then I can tell you. There are four hundred eighty-six men, women, and children passengers aboard, plus seventy-four crew.”

“Yes, we—”

“It means a lot to know that we weren’t forgotten.”

Legroeder swallowed as he thought about the lies told about the ship over the years. “You have an almost… legendary status,” he said finally.

The captain’s eyes widened. “Is that so? Well, what now, then? Can you get us out? Lead us back to civilization?” His gaze was filled with sudden intensity. “You should know that this ship is still fully functional.” For an instant, the message blazed unmistakable in his eyes: Don’t make me abandon my command .