Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“Indeed, we did,” boomed a voice beside him, and Legroeder turned to see a larger-than-life holo of Yankee-Zulu/Ivan floating beside him. “It’s an incredible story. Simply incredible. We want to hear every detail.”

Legroeder inclined his head in acknowledgment, wondering why YZ/I had chosen to appear in holo, rather than in person.

“We’re expecting the Impris officers to emerge momentarily,” Tracy-Ace said, her temple implants racing with activity. For an instant Legroeder thought he caught the familiar twinkle in her eye, and he suppressed a flutter of excitement. “We have people standing by to give Impris a royal welcome. We’ve got medical teams, engineering teams, hospitality teams…”

Hospitality teams? Legroeder suddenly saw a new holo—a large brass ensemble poised just outside the circle. Okay … He let out a long, slow breath, waiting for the hatch to open. Trying to ignore Tracy-Ace. Focus on Impris … on the mysteries of the ghost ship, the Flying Dutchman of space. It would soon be crawling with Kyber techs. He felt a sudden surge of resentment. Damn it, these were his mysteries to reveal, his and the others who had gone through it with him.

A shout went up. A dark opening appeared in the airlock. The brass ensemble played a triumphant fanfare. And now, emerging ahead of the other officers and crew, were Captain Noel Friedman and Rigger Freem’n Deutsch. The captain’s face looked as if it were about to crack, straining between joy and solemnity; but Deutsch, though his facial expressions were concealed behind metal skin, appeared to Legroeder to be grinning from ear to ear.

“Welcome back to civilization!” boomed the voice of YZ/I.

“Thank you,” Friedman whispered, looking around.

Legroeder could not contain himself. He strode forward to greet Friedman and Deutsch. “Captain!” he cried. “Freem’n! Am I glad to see you!”

The solemnity on Captain Friedman’s face finally cracked. “ Halleluiah!” he cried, raising his hands joyfully. “ Landfall! By God, I never thought I’d see the day again!” He cocked his head in puzzlement, as he pumped Legroeder’s hand. “Is that you, Legroeder? What the hell’s happened to your hair, man?”

“Well, it’s, uh—” Legroeder gestured helplessly “—I’ll have to explain later.” He suddenly realized he wasn’t observing any kind of protocol here. “Captain Friedman, may I introduce you to the leader of the Outpost, Yankee-Zulu/Ivan?” He gestured to the holo of YZ/I, who was lit up like a Christmas tree. “And Tracy-Ace/Alfa, YZ/I’s right-hand assistant.”

“Welcome to Outpost Ivan of the Free Kyber Republics,” Tracy-Ace said smoothly, stepping forward. “We’re delighted to see Impris , and to extend our hospitality to you, to your crew, and to all of your passengers.”

The brass ensemble struck up another welcoming tune.

Friedman bowed with obvious relief. “Thank you. Thank you all for coming to the aid of my ship and crew. We are honored to accept your hospitality.” He gestured to the emerging officers. “Needless to say, we are eager to get back to our home port. But we would be most grateful for your assistance with repairs and supplies and so on.”

Freem’n Deutsch stood just behind Friedman, looking inscrutable. Legroeder held his breath, watching Tracy-Ace.

Tracy-Ace bowed. “Captain, we will assist you with medical treatment and whatever else you need.”

“Indeed,” said YZ/I’s holo. “And after all the time you’ve been away, we hope you might enjoy a look at our modest outpost. I think you’ll find it rather different from Faber Eridani.”

“Yes, of course,” Friedman said. But a shadow had crept over his face. “We certainly appreciate the offer of help. Including the medical—though I’m afraid for many of our people, the needs are more psychological than medical. It has been… a difficult ordeal.”

“We understand—and we’ll do our best,” Tracy-Ace promised.

“Some of them,” Friedman continued, “might be reluctant to leave the ship. It is difficult to explain…”

“Then our people will go to them,” Tracy-Ace said. “Captain, we would very much like to study your ship. We hope to find some explanation for what you and your crew have gone through.”

“Certainly, you may look,” Friedman said. “But I think you’ll learn more from the riggers who brought us out. Rigger Deutsch here. Rigger Legroeder. The Narseil.”

Legroeder suddenly knew why he felt a slowly tightening knot in his stomach. Yes, it was the riggers who knew; the ship would tell them nothing. And it was he and the Narseil who knew most of all. And that made them a valuable—perhaps dangerously valuable—commodity. Was it his imagination, or was Deutsch peering at him with eyes that seemed to reflect his own thoughts?

He spoke suddenly, to release the tension. “I believe you’re right, Captain. It’s not the ship we need to understand; it’s the Flux. My Narseil colleagues and I have been working very hard to formulate answers—for all of us.” He turned to YZ/I and Tracy-Ace. “We’ll be happy to go over it all with you at your earliest convenience.” But I don’t know how you’re going to take what we have to say .

“The sooner the better,” rumbled the image of YZ/I. “Why don’t you come on down now?”

Tracy-Ace’s implants flickered with intense activity. She cocked her head and raised a hand. “Excellent idea. Lieutenant Zond, would you care to escort—?”

It was probably just as well that Tracy-Ace wasn’t with them, Legroeder thought as they approached YZ/I’s operations center. He had enough to think about right now without wondering what was going on in her mind. Freem’n was at his side, but they’d had no chance to talk privately. Behind them walked all of the Narseil except Agamem, who’d been sent to report back to Commander Fre’geel. Legroeder’s thoughts were starting to percolate with memories of the passage, and a flood of further questions, many of them coming from the implants in his skull. It was going to be hard to keep his head clear for this meeting.

A man was just leaving YZ/I’s command platform as they approached—a dark-haired, red-skinned man. It took Legroeder a moment to place him; he was the one who’d argued with YZ/I and Tracy-Ace during their previous meeting. He searched his memory for the man’s name. Lanyard/GC. Old boyfriend of Tracy-Ace’s or something. A pain in the ass. Legroeder was glad he was leaving, not arriving.

“Thank you for sharing your concerns with me,” YZ/I called after Lanyard, who seemed to give a silent snort. As he passed, Lanyard glanced at Legroeder and the Narseil with what seemed a mix of curiosity and derision.

Legroeder forgot Lanyard as YZ/I boomed out, “Wonderful to see you! All of you! Come in, come in!” The glowing man greeted Legroeder with a hearty handshake. “I was afraid I’d never see you again. And here you are! Incredible mission—just fantastic!” YZ/I’s face rippled with light as he waved them all into the command section of his operations center. He sealed the section off with an opaque force-screen. “So, Legroeder. How’s it feel to be back?”

Legroeder laughed, in spite of himself. “Glad to be here. Glad to be alive.”

“I can imagine,” said YZ/I. He studied Legroeder for a moment. “Nice haircut, by the way. Did you do that yourself?”

Legroeder sighed deeply. He thought he heard the Narseil chuckling behind him. “You could say that, I suppose.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway—we’re here, and we’re ready to report.”

“Excellent.” YZ/I rubbed his hands together expectantly. “I wish I could have been there at the docks in person. But I’m afraid that… well, certain political concerns precluded that. I do apologize. Now, tell me everything. Everything that happened. Everything you learned.” His face and body shimmered with moving patches of color. YZ/I spread his hands and looked piercingly at Legroeder.