Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Deutsch made a soft clicking sound. “Captain, we’re compiling information about the quantum structure of the Flux here. We have experts with us from the Narseil Rigging Institute. And people from Phoenix to go over your ship with a fine-toothed comb for any evidence of what happened.”

“You can try—but we went over the ship with a fine-toothed comb a hundred years ago and it didn’t help.” Friedman’s eyes flashed. “Do you know the way out, or don’t you?”

“We won’t know until we try,” said Legroeder. “That’s why we really need to talk to your riggers.”

Friedman spun around. “Where are those two?”

Across the bridge, a panel slid open on a rigger-station. “Did you want me, skipper?” said a bearded, black-skinned man as he rolled out slowly, shaking his head. On the next station, another panel creaked open and a thin, pale, blond-haired man climbed out, blinking in the bright light.

“We’ve been calling you for half an hour,” said Friedman. “Come say hello to the riggers from Phoenix . They came a long way to find us.”

“That’s an understatement, I guess,” said the first rigger. “Let me tell you—for a while there, I thought you guys were ghosts or something. But ghosts don’t pull like that.”

“Rigger Jamal,” said Captain Friedman, and then gestured to the blond “—and Rigger Poppy. Meet Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch.”

Legroeder stuck out a hand in greeting.

Poppy peered at him. “You the one from the Los Angeles? ”

Legroeder nodded, memories cascading in his skull.

“And you—” Poppy cocked his head at Deutsch “—you look just like a guy I saw in the net of some ship—jeez, it was like a damn pirate ship or something. It came out of nowhere and started shooting up another ship that looked like they were trying to help us.”

Deutsch was silent a moment. “That was not me. But I think I know the people you mean.”

Poppy frowned in puzzlement.

“We came to try to help you,” Deutsch said softly.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Jamal. “Can you lead us out of here? I’m ready when you are.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” said Legroeder.

“These two gentlemen need to sit down and talk to you,” Friedman said. “Riggers Legroeder and Deutsch want to know about your experience.”

“That’s right,” Legroeder said. “Everything you can tell us about how you got here. Anything that might help us avoid blind alleys or mistakes getting out again.”

Deutsch interjected, “If you don’t mind my asking, how have you managed to survive all this time?”

Friedman’s brows went up. “We’ve done all right. We’ve… taken good care of the passengers, all things considered. We had to expand our hydroponics and recyclers and so on, of course.” He pressed his lips together; he was trembling a little. “But you know—this time thing. It sure hasn’t—well, it hasn’t been any hundred and twenty-four years, here.”

“More like an eternity,” muttered Jamal.

Legroeder nodded, sensing the strain they were all under. “Is there someplace we can talk?” he asked gently.

The corridors of the passenger liner were starting to fill up with crewmen from Phoenix , working with Impris officers to interview the passengers and crew, and see to any immediate needs or medical problems. The captain emptied a nearby conference room for the riggers to confer.

They had barely gotten settled around the table, however, when a call came to Legroeder on his collar-com from Phoenix , via relays set up through the boarding tube. It was Captain Glenswarg, wondering why the hell he hadn’t reported in.

“We just got here,” Legroeder said, surprised. “We’ve only just sat down to talk.”

“Just sat down? You’ve been over there for six hours,” said Glenswarg.

Legroeder’s heart froze. “Excuse me, Captain? It’s been less than half an hour, our time.”

There was silence on the com. Then: “ Christ . All right—look. Stay there absolutely not a minute longer than you have to. And report back to me in ten minutes, your time. Understood?”

“Understood,” Legroeder echoed. He exchanged troubled glances with Deutsch, then turned to the Impris officers. “It looks like we’re having some problems— Captain, are you all right? ”

Friedman looked startled. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You seemed to blink out for a moment.”

Friedman winced. “That sort of thing happens. We don’t really know why. But the whole ship is riddled with time distortions. It seems to affect some of us more than others.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Legroeder shifted his gaze from the captain to the riggers and back again. He was afraid to take his eyes off any of them.

“From one part of the ship to the next?” Friedman looked puzzled, as if unsure what should be obvious and what not. “As if the time seems to flow in these ripples and eddies, you know. Fast one place, slow another. Depending on where you are in the ship, you’re aging faster, or more slowly.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’ve got one couple spending their time in a damn closet together, because time is slow there. They’ve been gambling on being rescued. But who knows if they’re right? Because if we weren’t rescued, they’d just be prolonging their lives so they’d be left behind when the rest of us finally die.”

Legroeder shivered.

“Not to mention,” Poppy interjected, “that boy who tried to kill hims—”

“ Here now—no need to talk of that,” Friedman chided. “We’re here to think constructively.”

Legroeder drew a deep breath. “We’d better concentrate on the rigging issues. Let’s start by finding out what you know about how you got here. How much do you remember?”

Jamal snorted. “What’s to remember? We were rigging along just fine, and when the time came to get out, we couldn’t.”

Legroeder glanced at Deutsch. “You didn’t notice anything along the way? Any hint of problems?”

Poppy waved his hand in agitation. “Jamal, you’re forgetting—there was that whole business of when we went through a sort of funnel . It wasn’t such a big deal—except we all thought the Flux felt different afterward.”

“Oh yeah,” said Jamal, scratching his head. “But it’s not like we thought anything was wrong , then.”

“Not wrong. But different.”

“Different, how?” Legroeder asked.

Poppy grimaced, as though trying to recall something from very long ago. “Different, like it was harder to get a grip. A purchase. We were still flying, but there was some slippage , if you know what I mean. Not enough to clue us that something was really wrong. But then, later, when we tried to come out…”

“What happened then?” Legroeder asked, wondering, was the funnel just another image of the raindrop Phoenix had gone through?

“ Nothing happened!” Poppy and Jamal cried together.

“Do you mean, there was no response from the net?”

“It was as if it had gone dead,” said Poppy. “I don’t mean dead: it still worked. But we couldn’t do anything, couldn’t change our position or speed… couldn’t even change the image much. And that’s more or less how it’s been ever since.”

“Did you check the reactor? Try increasing the output?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jamal chuckled grimly. “Of course. We gave it a real good goosing.”

“And?”

Poppy gestured around the room. “That’s when this time business started—”