Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Glenswarg was scowling, though. “Do you intend to explain?”

Legroeder sighed. (You really don’t know what happened?) he asked the implants.

// Negative. Internal recordkeeping failed during the passage. Or rather, was crowded out by a massive influx of data concerning the structure of the flaw—which, by the way, you will find very interesting. //

(Yeah? What kind of data?) He was aware of Glenswarg staring at him, still waiting for an answer.

// We’re still analyzing. But you saw more during that passage than you might have realized. We must consider very carefully how to use it… //

Thoughts spinning, Legroeder forced a grin at Glenswarg and began stammering out an explanation. “What I looked like before… was a form of camouflage, you might say. It was before we were all working together…”

Glenswarg’s frown only deepened.

During the flight back, Legroeder thought often about what the implants had said about the quantum flaw data. He could never quite get them to elaborate clearly; they were always still analyzing. But his own memories were beginning to come back in flickering bursts. Splinters of light fracturing off in all directions, like the needles of a new-born ice crystal… quantum flaws entwined through the Flux … The visions gave him shivers of awe and fear. Just how closely had his implants traced the positions of those flaws, anyway?

He debriefed with Glenswarg, and discussed the passage with his rigger-mates. The Narseil were absorbed in their own detailed studies of the instrumentation data. They weren’t sure what to make of Legroeder’s observations—they had caught intimations of the sprawling proliferation of the flaw, but few details; but then each of them had seen features no one else had seen. Legroeder found himself wondering how long it would take his implants to complete their own analysis. He missed Deutsch, who was still aboard Impris , flying in formation with the fleet. They spoke on flux-com from time to time, but that wasn’t the same thing as sitting down together. Legroeder wanted to know what Deutsch had really gone though during the passage.

He also wondered what kind of reception they were going to receive from Yankee-Zulu/Ivan. YZ/I, of course, should be delighted to see them pull in with Impris ; but would he be as happy to keep his end of the bargain once Impris was parked in his dock? And what about Tracy-Ace/Alfa? His thoughts veered one way and then another as he thought about her: remembering her eyes, her touch, the flowing connection between them… and then thinking, what if she had only been used to set him up? Would she still be there for him, now that the job was done?

And what of Maris, and Harriet—and Harriet’s grandson? And now that he’d found Impris , would he succeed in clearing his name at last?

No wonder he felt so damned anxious.

Watching from the bridge as Phoenix docked at Outpost Ivan, Legroeder struggled with a new set of mixed emotions. He could not believe, watching as the Kyber riggers brought the ship in to the outer docks of the Kyber fortress, how much like home Outpost Ivan looked to him. The last thing he wanted was to feel at home here. With luck, that wouldn’t be a problem for long.

Cantha appeared at his side. “Troubled?” the Narseil asked. Legroeder nodded. “Well, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking… we are not entirely without resources.”

Legroeder turned and gazed at the stocky Narseil.

Cantha scratched under the neck of his Narseil khakis; he hadn’t had a decent soak in a pool since leaving H’zzarrelik , and the thick crest on the back of his neck was looking pretty flaky. “I was just thinking,” Cantha said as he turned to view the fleet movement in the monitors, “that we learned an awful lot of new rigging science out there, and we haven’t really even sorted it all out among ourselves.” His slitted, vertical eyes shifted to catch Legroeder’s gaze. “But it could be very useful—to many people. If you know what I mean.”

Legroeder glanced around at the Kyber crewmen on the bridge. Useful, indeed . “I think I do, yes,” he said, drawing a deep breath. “I think I do.”

The escort ships fell back to allow tugs to bring Impris into dock; Phoenix docked alongside the passenger liner. The procedure seemed to take forever, but eventually Captain Glenswarg called, “Shut down engines.” Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to Legroeder and the Narseil. “Gentlemen, you’ve discharged your duties well. You may collect your things and go stationside.” He shook each of their hands. “Good work, riggers. It’s been one hell of an experience having you aboard, that’s for sure.” It was the closest thing to levity Legroeder had ever heard from Glenswarg.

“It’s been an experience working with you, too, sir,” Legroeder said, cracking half a smile. “I suppose we might see you around the station?”

“I suppose we might,” Glenswarg agreed. With a brisk salute, he turned back to his bridge duties. Legroeder and the Narseil trooped off to the airlock.

If Legroeder was hoping they might be greeted by Tracy-Ace in the docking bay, he was unsurprised to find a security escort instead. The leader of the escort, ears bristling with augments, bowed. “Riggers, Yankee-Zulu/Ivan welcomes you back, and requests a meeting at the earliest opportunity.”

“Um—” Legroeder said, squinting at the man’s name badge. Lieutenant Zond, it looked like. “Certainly. But do you mind if we see our colleagues off Impris first? We’ve had quite a time of it.”

“Of course,” the lieutenant said, gesturing down the platform. “That was the next thing I was going to say. We’re about to have the formal opening of the Impris hatch. First time in a hundred years, I understand. Of course we want all of you to be on hand.”

Not quite the first time, Legroeder thought dryly, but confined himself to saying, “A hundred twenty-four years, actually.”

Lieutenant Zond gave no sign of having heard, but led the way around to the Impris docking platform. A clear wall afforded a breathtaking view of the ship, like a great silver whale. About a third of the way down its hull, a circle of security people surrounded the main hatch. In the middle of the circle stood Tracy-Ace/Alfa.

Legroeder’s heartbeat quickened as he saw her gesturing and giving orders. Lieutenant Zond brought them through the circle. It took Tracy-Ace a few moments to notice them; she turned with a big grin, her eyes shining—and did a double take when she saw Legroeder’s hair. She didn’t say a word about it, but strode forward with an outstretched hand to greet him. “Rigger Legroeder! Welcome back to Outpost Ivan!”

Legroeder had been wondering how he should greet her. Taking her cue, he clasped her hand in an official welcome. He felt an electric tingle at her touch, and her beaming if slightly unfocused smile. For a moment, he felt a giddy desire to enfold her in his arms; but then the tingle fled, and her smile and hand moved on, leaving him empty as she turned to his Narseil friends. “Welcome back, all of you! And congratulations! You’ve accomplished an astounding feat!” Tracy-Ace made a sweeping gesture to the starliner. “ Impris! You brought her back safely! Who would have believed it?”

As she marveled, Legroeder found himself feeling ignored by Tracy-Ace. Is it because we’re in public? Or is something going on? He cleared his throat. Don’t be a fool; she could hardly hug you in front of everyone, could she? I don’t care; I don’t like being ignored. He cleared his throat again. “Did you get our preliminary report?”