Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

As they gathered to board the ship, Legroeder stood off to one side of the crowd. His head hurt, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

// Your condition can be self-correcting. //

Legroeder blinked and looked around, just to be sure the voice had come from within. It was one of the implants.

(All right, I give. How do I correct it?)

The answer appeared silently, and he realized that he could use the same technique he had applied to the control of the implants themselves. He closed his eyes and focused inward, and cast a golden cloud around himself, which slowly penetrated him with its ghostly glow. After a moment, he let it evaporate. When he opened his eyes, the headache was gone.

(I’ll be damned,) he said to the voice.

He turned and saw Com’peer watching him. “What?” Legroeder asked.

“You’re learning, aren’t you—and you will continue to learn,” said the surgeon. “Rigger Legroeder, you will be a formidable member of this crew. And I believe you will find your implants useful for more things than you can imagine.”

“Well, they worked pretty well on my hangover,” Legroeder conceded.

Com’peer rested a long-fingered hand on his shoulder. “May God go with you, Legroeder. And who knows? Maybe even your desire for a safe return will come true.” She laughed, a sound like a saw cutting wood. “I look forward to hearing your report.”

“Too bad you’re not coming,” Legroeder said. “You could remake everyone on the ship.”

“I almost wish I could. I almost really do,” Com’peer said, none too convincingly. “But my orders keep me here.”

The boarding began then, and Legroeder got in line.

The ship’s name was H’zzarrelik , which roughly translated meant “Javelin.” But Legroeder found himself referring to it mentally in the Narseil tongue; it seemed more appropriate somehow. She looked like a luxury liner, at least on the outside—long, silver, and sleek as a shark. Her departure was silent and unheralded, marked by little more than a vibration in the deck in the middle of the night. The celebration was a fading memory now, and the official mode of operation was stealth and efficiency, even in departing from Narseil Naval Command.

Legroeder’s cabin was, to his surprise, more pleasantly appointed than the one he’d had at the naval base. The ship looked like a passenger liner on the inside, too. His cabin had smoothly curved walls, like those back at the base, in a cool off-white, with charcoal-gray trim. It was fitted with a respectable bunk and a small bath alcove. He wondered what class he was traveling in—business class, maybe?—not perfect luxury, but far better than steerage.

Soon enough, he grew weary of being alone with his thoughts, and went out for a walk around the ship. Everything seemed to convey the illusion of this being an innocent passenger vessel. But surely it was not so innocent, if one probed beneath the surface. It wasn’t long before he encountered Cantha in the corridor. “Are you unable to sleep?” asked the Narseil.

“Who can sleep, when we’re just getting underway?”

“I think there are many of us who feel that way,” said Cantha. “That’s why I’m up. I’m not on duty right now, either.”

“How about showing me around, then?”

“Happily. What would you like to see first? Shall I show you where the weapons are hidden?”

“Well—”

“We’re not as harmless as we look, you know,” Cantha said, blinking his elongated Narseil eyes. “Come on. You might as well see where everything is.”

They were near the midships exercise room and pool, so Cantha took him there first. It was an impressive facility, and already in use by several of the crew. Cantha took him past the pool to the equipment lockers. He released a catch and the backs of the lockers opened to reveal numerous rows of small arms. “Enough for half the crew right here. If you count up all the different storage locations, we have several weapons for everyone on board, including you.”

“So this isn’t the only stash?” Legroeder briefly examined one of the Narseil neutrasers. A week ago, he would not have known which end to hold. Now it felt almost comfortable in his hand.

“Hardly. I’ll show you the other stores as we come to them.” Cantha closed up the lockers and led him back out past the pool. “Oh—by the way, there are antipersonnel weapons sealed into the bottom of the pool. They’re remotely controlled, so if you get involved in a fight in this area, beware.”

“Terrific. I’ll remember that the next time I go for a late night swim.”

Cantha peered at him, as though trying to decide how to interpret the remark. “A sense of humor is a good thing to have,” he said finally.

Legroeder followed Cantha out of the room and up the corridor toward the bow of the ship. Three more times, Cantha pointed out locations of concealed antipersonnel weapons. The Narseil really did not want the pirates taking control of this ship. They stopped just aft of the bridge, at the access portal to a large, round compartment. “Flux reactor?” Legroeder asked in surprise. “This close to the bridge?”

“Standard on our ships,” Cantha said. “This is also where the external armaments are concealed.”

Legroeder peered around, but saw nothing remotely resembling weapons. “Where? Inside the power room?”

“Almost. You won’t find them without tearing the ship apart. They’re embedded in the walls, inside the shielding.”

“That’s handy. How do you load them?”

“They were loaded when the ship was built. Reloading could be a problem, though.” Cantha gave a whistling chuckle. “No, if they’re used at all, it’s one shot per tube.” The Narseil raised a hand and traced the slight cylindrical bulge of ventilation ducts near the ceiling. “Those go radially out toward the skin of the ship. They really are ventilation ducts. But they have special linings, waveguides, and shunts. If we need to fire torpedoes, that’s where they go out, through concealed openings in the hull. And the internal power couplings—” he pointed to smaller bulges “—carry high capacity op-fiber barrels, for the beam weapons.”

Legroeder frowned, following it with his eye. All very clever, he thought. But would it work? It wasn’t as if they’d be able to keep this stuff hidden from the pirates for long. “Interesting,” he said finally. “But Cantha—isn’t this overkill, for a stealth mission? I mean—maybe we can blow a pirate ship out of the sky with all of this, but that’s not what we want to do, is it?”

“Indeed not,” said Cantha. “If all goes well, most of this weaponry will never be used. We hope that stealth will be our greatest weapon. But pretending to be vulnerable carries obvious risks. Hence our preparations for defeating the enemy right here on our own decks, if necessary.”

“But what about these supposed contacts in the raider underground? What if they meet us, looking for a parlay?”

Cantha looked uncomfortable. “We were hoping for a confirmation message from the underground, some indication that a nonhostile contact could be made. Unfortunately, it never came. Therefore we must assume—” Cantha spread his hands wide, in the Narseil equivalent of a shrug.

“In other words, we really don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”

“That is an exaggeration,” Cantha said.

Legroeder grunted. “So, look—have you got anything to show me that isn’t a hidden weapon?”

“Indeed, I—” Cantha paused and raised a finger. “Listen.”

To what? The tessa’chron?

An instant later there came a call on the intercom: “ Rigger Legroeder, please make your presence felt on the bridge.”