Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

The local airbus left a cloud of dust as it disappeared around the bend of the old road. Adaria, watching the bus vanish, gave a whistling sigh of relief. She stretched her flightless wings, picked up her bag, and started down the path into the woods.

It had been a long journey, but Adaria was nearly home now, back with her own people, the Fabri. In the end, there was nothing like the company of the homefolk. Especially after the last few months of life among humans. Adaria still shivered at the memories of the coolness and fear that had insinuated their way into her life at the library, and that late-night visit by Centrist Strength, with their half-veiled threats. Centrist Strength made her extremely uneasy, even at a distance—with their known caching of weapons on Fabri land, their proclamations of Destiny Manifest…

Better to leave all that behind, if one could.

The path was not long, but it wound in serpentine fashion through the woods. She felt her own inner tensions unwinding as she followed the path’s twisty course among the penalders and fragrant ellum trees to the village. Someone called out to her as she approached, and she whistled a greeting in return. She didn’t go straight to the village center, though; instead she detoured to a cabin at the edge of the village. She had someone to visit, an old friend.

Adaria paused, gazing with a shake of her feathers at her friend’s house, a low wooden structure. It seemed in poorer repair than she remembered, the bark clapboard cracked and desiccated. “Telessst?” she called through the bead curtain that hung over the front door. She ducked her head and entered, the beads brushing back over her wings. The room was dim; the only light came from two small windows with curtains drawn. It was a modest den, with a raised wooden floor, cushions, and a low table. Adaria whistled.

“Adaria? Is that you?” cried a voice from the shadows of the back room. An old female Fabri stepped out to greet her with a feathery embrace. “ Iiiirrrrrrlllll ,” Telest sighed, squeezing her with pent-up affection. “It is good to see you, my friend!”

Adaria didn’t answer for a moment, but just held the old Fabri’s arms. So much to think about, so much to say. “I am back,” she said finally.

“So you are. And how are you?”

Adaria gazed at her old mentor before answering. Telest’s curving neck, which the humans might have called swanlike, was a little more bent, a little frailer than when she’d last seen her. Telest’s eyes were bright, though the fine feathers covering her cheeks looked thin and worn. It was so good to be back. But there was no time for sentiment just yet.

Adaria drew a breath. “There is trouble, Telest. Word from Vegas and the Mahoney people. They need our help if we can give it. They need it now…”

I am Maris O’Hare. I may be a prisoner, but I am not without control.

Maris opened her eyes and leaned forward in the living room recliner. With a glance at her two captors, she raised her cup of tea from the side stand and took a tiny sip. The pain in her shoulder and neck was lessening; she could manage a teacup now. She set it down with trembling hands and rested her head back. “You still haven’t told me who you’re working for,” she murmured. Moving only her eyes, she glanced around the living room. She was still getting used to the idea of being planetside, in a house. But in the hands of pirates. Right where she’d started.

The woman turned from the security console she was always checking. “We told you. Ivan. That’s all you need to know.”

“Who is Ivan? ”

“A friend,” the woman grunted, and walked out of the room.

The man put down a beam rifle he’d been cleaning and peered out the window. “Don’t worry about it. Just work on getting better.”

Maris pressed her lips together. For perhaps the twentieth time, she surveyed what she could see of the house: Living room. Kitchen. Short hallway with bedrooms. And two captors. Dennis and Lydia. Dennis, who hardly talked. And Lydia, the bitch. They didn’t seem like lovers, just partners—though Maris could have sworn she’d heard grunting and moaning in the other room last night. Why the hell wouldn’t they tell her what was going on? Maris sighed and closed her eyes against a rush of lingering dizziness. Coma. She’d been in a coma. She’d woken, what—three days ago? Four? She could walk a little now, from room to room, or into the shower—but always with help. She thought she could probably walk unassisted if she had to. But maybe she didn’t need to advertise that—at least until she knew more.

Dennis had promised to fill her in when she was stronger. Right now he was rubbing at his temples, as though waiting for some instruction. He didn’t have visible implants, but Maris was pretty sure he had them. Lydia, too. Maris closed her eyes, picturing the back of her neck where her own implants were mercifully silent. Dennis claimed to have deactivated them. Crude things they were, used only for sadistic control by her captors at DeNoble.

But they have implants, these two. They’re pirates. What more do I need to know about them?

She couldn’t stop the hatred from welling up; couldn’t stop the memories. The slavery, the rapes and attempted rapes, the degradation. She couldn’t stop any of it from coming back. But she could keep it inside. Her hand shook on the teacup, and she put her hand in her lap and held one fist clenched tightly together with the other. She waited until the wash of nausea subsided and she could breathe again.

She grunted softly, looking over at the window. She wondered if she had any chance of running away. Hah. She’d be lucky to make the door. Or maybe the backyard. She had no idea where she was, other than the planet Faber Eridani. But why would pirates hold her here? If she’d been recaptured, why didn’t they just take her back? Were they waiting for a ship? That was probably it; they were awaiting transport, and when it came, they’d whisk her away. All this anguish for nothing. Where was Legroeder? Everything after their escape was a blank. Her only friend; she barely knew him; but as far as she was concerned, he was her best friend in the world. If he was alive.

If I get a chance, I must… must…

She drew a slow breath. She had to make a break if the opportunity arose. But she needed to know more. “It might help me recover faster,” she said to Dennis, “if you told me what was going on.”

Lydia walked in with sandwiches and a carafe of tea. “Christ, doesn’t she ever give up?”

“Sign of recovery,” Dennis said with a shrug.

“Great. So glad you’re feeling better,” Lydia said sarcastically. She handed Maris a sandwich and slid back onto the bench in front of her security console.

Maris frowned and took a bite. The sandwich had a pungent, unidentifiable taste. She swallowed the first bite with difficulty and washed it down with some tea. To Dennis she said, “You’re with the Kyber. Are you planning to take me back?” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them.

If Dennis was surprised, he didn’t show it. He looked noncommittal and said simply, “We’re just keeping you out of the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s for your own good ,” Lydia said, with her back still turned.

“For my own good?” That’s why you took me out of a hospital?

“Yes.” Dennis propped his beam rifle against the wall. As if reading her thoughts, he added, “It was necessary. Before others got to you.”

“What—others—?” Maris whispered, trying not to tremble. She’d escaped, fair and square. She shouldn’t have to be going through this. Where am I, damn you? Where is Legroeder? “What others?” she repeated.