Steven Brust - My Own Kind of Freedom

Oh, right: one thing that was always necessary when you were unlucky enough to be going into mortal danger, but lucky enough to have advance warning.

He got back from the toilet and sat down again. This pilot’s chair was fine, but it didn’t feel the same as his. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Now, what? Was he really out of ways to kill time?

No, he could look over the plans again, and re-check the route, especially the final approach. He’d only been over it four times so far, and only once cross-checking it with the weather report.

He checked the time, and found that it was less than five minutes until launch. His palms were suddenly moist, and his mouth dry. That was all right, though; he’d be fine when it was time to launch.

The pilot was already in place, but no one else was, so he could choose his seat.

“Welcome aboard, welcome aboard,” said the one called Wash, turning in his chair. “Passengers are advised to strap down for their own safety, and, as always, we remind you that Washburn Passenger Service is not responsible for lost luggage, air-sickness, or suddenly exploding into fiery ruin.”

The first mate was in next; she kissed the pilot, squeezed his shoulder, and sat down next to him. The captain and the mercenary came in last; the captain took a position near the door.

“Is it time?” he asked.

“About a minute,” said the pilot. “And, not to be painfully obvious, but you should all make sure you’re strapped in good.” Then he stabbed a button. “Kaylee, open us up.”

“Copy,” came her voice.

A moment later, the pilot spoke again. “Kaylee?”

“Still here.”

“Open us up, Kaylee.”

“But… oh. That was the other one. There you go.”

“Thank you, Kaylee.”

“Good luck, all of you.”

“Disengaging in three… two… one… free.”

There was a mild jolt, a drop, and Kit was shoved back into his chair.

Okay, Kit, my boy. You’re in it now.

There was a faint whirring sound as the wings deployed, and they settled into the flight. He wiped his hands on his pants. The flight was scheduled to last just over twenty-six minutes. And end very abruptly.

He put his hand on the buckle that would release his restraints.

I’ll bet I’d have made a really good school teacher.

Serenity gave a little sigh and expressed a desire to list to starboard when the shuttle separated, but her gyros whirred, and she settled in. Kaylee sat in the pilot’s chair and watched the clock, as well as the screen that Wash had set up. It was seventeen minutes after thirteen hundred.

The screen was clear.

She tried to relax. It wasn’t easy up here on the bridge, in this chair, but she tried.

It was still seventeen minutes after.

The screen was still clear.

She noticed that her eyes hurt, and realized that it was because she hadn’t been letting herself blink. She blinked several times, rapidly, then, in sudden panic, looked at the screen. It was still clear.

And it was still seventeen minutes after.

A long, long time later it was eighteen minutes after.

And the screen was still clear.

She heard herself make a little mewing sound.

And the screen was still clear.

And then the screen wasn’t clear any more.

She heard a sound, midway between a sigh and a squeak, and realized it came from her.

Her hand was shaking as she reached for the green switch marked with the bright orange tape.

The “click” as she flipped it seemed very loud.

So was the next click as she started the timer for the jamming signal Wash had set up; a counter appeared in the upper right corner of the front screen. It started at nineteen minutes and began counting down.

Two lights far to the right turned green. In a moment, they were joined by a third one, flashing. Information began to fill the upper-most monitor, and then the blip on the screen she’d been watching moved across the top, stopped, and began to approach the center. Slowly, but still much too fast.

She remained in the pilot’s chair, shaking and waiting and trying to watch three screens at once, because a new blip was going to appear on one of them, and then she’d have to move quickly.

Miss Wuhan’s voice came over the intercom. “Filo.”

He tore himself away from the projections he was trying to run. The worst thing that backstabbing fed had done, he’d been thinking, was deprive him of someone who knew how to do those. He’d have to hire someone soon; and this time do a thorough background check on the gorram bastard.

“What is it?”

“Serenity has been found, landed, about twenty miles out of town.”

“Get me security.”

“They’re waiting, Filo. I’ll switch you over now.”

“Security here. This is—”

“You have a lock on Serenity?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good work. Send a Catfish. No messing around. Leave a crater there.”

“Yes, sir. We’re on it.”

He started to switch off, but suddenly, for no reason he was conscious of, he said, “Wait. How’d the break happen?”

“Sir?”

“How did you find her?”

“She started transmitting an ident beacon.”

He looked out at his duck pond. An ident beacon? Suddenly started transmitting an ident beacon? Why in the gorram hell would they do that? “ Hold a moment,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

His mind worked quickly. “Okay, dispatch the Catfish, but scan them first. If there is no one aboard, then hold off on attacking and get hold of me. Repeat your orders.”

The other did so, without flaw.

“Okay, move,” said Sakarya.

He didn’t know what was happening, but he was pretty sure that whatever it was would happen soon.

He glanced at the clock: it was 13:28.

She felt the shuttle level out, and from what she could tell, they were about eighty or ninety meters off the deck. She wasn’t worried about it; if something was going to go wrong (and something was almost sure to go wrong) it wouldn’t be with the flying. She had seen the route they planned to take, curving around a twisting terrain to stay off radar, and she never for a moment doubted that, just about ten minutes from now, they’d arrive amid crashing and splintering of wood, and they’d arrive intact.

It was the part after that she worried about, and she worried about it on several levels. The Captain had something in mind. The fed had something in mind. And she had the uncomfortable feeling that her husband had something in mind, or, at least, that there was something he knew that he wasn’t talking about.

Yes, she was worried. But she was also very much aware that, at this moment, there was nothing she could do about that worry; nothing at all until the next stage of the operation began.

And when that happened, in addition to everything else, she intended to keep a close eye on that fed.

The shuttle made a soft, gentle turn and a smooth rise.

No, she didn’t know what was going on with her man, but he could certainly fly. Yes, indeed, he could fly.

She leaned over a little so she could read the clock around his left arm. It was 13:32.

He sat with his sister in the dining room, trying to be patient. It became harder after she suddenly said, “They’re here.”

“Who?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted an answer. Instead of answer, however, River stood up.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Where?”

Kaylee’s voice came over the intercom. “Simon! River! Into shuttle one, now!”