Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“Should we transmit?” Fre’geel asked, his voice suddenly iron. His hand, much larger than Legroeder remembered it, was reaching out as though to seize Legroeder by the throat. “Did we get information worth transmitting?”

Meaning, if they had, this was the time to make themselves expendable. But if not, their next best hope was…

Legroeder shook his head, his stomach knotting. “I don’t think so. We were just on the verge. Dammit .”

“The verge of what, Rigger?”

Legroeder peered anxiously up at the Narseil commander. “Just before we tripped the alarm, we’d found a thread connected to the Kyber underground. There were also references to Impris . It could have been a trap, I suppose—but why? Unless there really is an underground out there.”

Fre’geel’s expression stopped him. He was squinting in the odd sort of way only a Narseil could squint, working at a decision. An army of Kyber troops was about to descend on them. But if they sent what they had, or boarded the ship and tried to flee…

No. Legroeder didn’t want to die for the sake of a bunch of planning commission reports. “I think there’s still a chance we could get what we came for. Impris . Maybe contacts that could make a difference if…” If they could hook up with a Kyber underground. But as captives?

“Are you prepared to take on your role, then?” Fre’geel said with a sharp glance upward. Footsteps could be heard through the ceiling. Fast and hard. “ Rigger Legroeder—”

Legroeder could barely draw a breath; the thought filled him with dread. Yes, he said, then realized it hadn’t come out. He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Fre’geel’s gaze snapped around to check the positions of his people, then back to Legroeder. “Very well. Begin your role now. And Rigger Legroeder, I hardly need to say—”

“Yes.”

“This radically alters the mission. I will do what I can to protect my people. But you must leave us to whatever happens. The next step is yours.” The Narseil’s gaze held him like a steel pin. “Deutsch. Will he help you?”

“I think so,” Legroeder said softly. He picked up his headset and put it back on. “Dear God, I hope so.” And with great deliberation he turned away from Fre’geel.

Fre’geel watched with terrible unease as Legroeder returned to the intelnet connection. He had just dropped an enormous responsibility on Legroeder’s shoulders. Would the human botch the job and bring the entire mission to an end? Would the pirate rigger betray them all?

It was out of the Narseil’s hands now.

Fre’geel turned, touching his com-implant. “Cantha,” he said, calling to Flechette .

“Here,” said Cantha.

“Inform the crew to prepare for boarding and capture. Do not resist. We have turned primary control of the mission over to Rigger Legroeder. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Cantha, and Fre’geel knew that in that simple word were many emotions that Cantha would not reveal. The officer had developed a great fondness for the human, and was well aware of the risks. “Will there be a transmission to H’zzarrelik ?”

“No,” said Fre’geel. “Store what you can in your augments. Erase the rest.” Risk all that they had gained so far, in hopes of gaining more later.

“Understood,” said Cantha.

Fre’geel broke the connection. The Kyber troops were in the corridors outside. His voice tightened involuntarily he called to his crew of commandos, “Lower your weapons and prepare to surrender!”

Fre’geel’s voice echoed in Legroeder’s thoughts even after he was immersed in the net. The next step is yours …

In the data-matrix, everything was so confused that he had trouble even finding Deutsch. Before, the station had been a tech shop stinking of oil and smoke; now there were jets of steam everywhere, and lights flashing behind the billowing clouds of mist. (Freem’n!) he called, need overcoming caution.

There was no direct answer from Deutsch, but he heard a tap tap tap somewhere on the other side of the dataspace, beyond the clouds of steam. He tried to move that way, and called out again, but there was still no answer from Deutsch. Tap tap tap .

(Freem’n?)

A blast of steam shot out in front of him, sending him staggering backward. He cursed, steadying himself. It felt so real, he almost forgot it was just a rush of data, probably a security-sweep protocol. He hesitated, crouching, then launched himself past the dissipating billow, searching for Deutsch. (Freem’n, where are you?)

He passed by several darkened pillars. The whole chamber looked different now, and yet was recognizably the same. He came upon a collection of large steel drums, grimy and covered with illegible warning signs. God knew what was in them, or what they represented. He squinted and tried in vain to read one of the inscriptions. As he straightened and moved on, he suddenly saw Deutsch. The man was sitting on a crate, on the far side of the collection, leaning back against one of the drums.

Legroeder hurried to him.

Tap tap tap.

The sound was coming from Deutsch. It was his metal arm, shorn of the garment that had covered it, twitching and vibrating as if trying to move, stuck in a half-extended position. At first Legroeder thought it was tapping against the drum; then he realized that it was the arm jerking against itself in some kind of internal jam.

(Freem’n, do you need help?)

Deutsch seemed to gaze directly at Legroeder, but showed no sign of recognition, or any awareness at all. His eyes glowed like tiny light bulbs behind dusty, dark-colored glass.

Jesus, Legroeder thought.

What the hell could have happened?

The implants stirred.

// Likelihood: he may be trapped in an electrocution-web matrix. Any attempt to free him could result in injury to him or to you. //

(I can’t just leave him here. How will he get free?)

// Likelihood: he will be freed when he is freed. Likelihood: whatever intelnet agent detected and trapped him will release him again when it chooses. There is probably nothing you can do. //

Legroeder circled around, studying Deutsch from various angles. (Freem’n, if you can hear me—if I knew how to free you, I would. If you can speak, now is the time.)

Deutsch, unblinking, appeared to drool.

Legroeder made his decision grimly. (I have to go ahead with the job, then—as we’d planned, in case of problems.) He hesitated, afraid to say too much. He started to turn, then swung back. (I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment back there, Freem’n. If I can find a way to help you—inside the intelnet or out—) He ran out of words. What more could he say?

With a final wave, he rose on the clouds of steam and looked for a place to hide himself while he sorted out what to do next.

The plan, at this point, was of necessity vague. But he could feel, welling up through the augments, a series of datapacks intended to help him.

// We have prepared all the elements of a working ID for you. Are you ready to assume your new identity? //

(As ready as I’ll ever be. Do you think it will work?)

// We analyzed the situation while you were exploring. Recommended action: create the impression that you set off the alarm against the Narseil. We can plant tracking indicators in the intelnet to convey this. Shall we do so now? //

He swallowed hard. It was one of the options in the plan—but it was difficult. (All right.)