Эрик Браун - Starship Winter

Instantly we were enveloped by a sensation of being removed from the here and now, quickly followed by what I could only describe as an impression of enlightenment◦– intellectual enlightenment, that is, not some beatific spiritual dawning of realisation. It was as if I were a scientist who had happened upon some fundamental truth underpinning the reality of the universe. What that truth was, exactly, was beyond my intellect to comprehend: I merely sensed the excitement of curiosity fulfilled, of knowledge gained…

And then I saw the figures in the ruby mist before us. They were Elan, a small gathering of the alien beings◦– and I knew that they were the dead ancestors ‘abducted’, as it were, by Darius Dortmund’s desecration.

A second later, shockingly, I saw the tall figure of Dortmund himself in their midst, looming above them like some kind of patriarch.

And, at the sight of him, it was as if I were granted some intimation of his joy at being united at last with what he had sought for so long… or at least that’s the sensation I gained at the time.

I was aware of Hannah’s hand in mine, gripping me tightly. Beside us I made out Hawk and Kee, Matt and Maddie.

Dortmund approached, seeming to drift into greater focus. He paused before us, smiling at us◦– genuinely smiling, something I had never seen him do while alive.

His thin, pale face turned in the direction of Matt, and he mouthed something to him.

Later, we debated his words. I was convinced he said, “Thank you…” while Hannah thought he shaped the words, “The wonder…” Hawk was convinced he heard a soft, “Unity… The answer, at last…”

Seconds later the image faded; Dortmund receded along with the Elan, and we stepped, dazed, from the nimbus of ruby light.

We stood in stunned silence for a long minute. I held Hannah to me, her solidity reassuring after the abstract reality we had experienced.

A little later, Matt looked across at Hannah and said softly, “You can arrest me, Hannah, and I’ll make a full confession. I’ll willingly go on trial and defend what I did, for the sake of the Elan and their ancestors.”

I looked at Hannah, stricken, and realised that I was gripping her hand as if in desperation. She was open-mouthed, wide-eyed, and slowly shook her head back and forth. At last she said, “How could I do that, when…?” and she gestured towards the Epiphany Stone.

I glanced across at Matt; he was holding Maddie and she was weeping against his chest.

Heanor was removing the Epiphany Stone from its plinth and slipping it into the case. He smiled at us, “And now, my friends, perhaps it is time to repair to the shipyard?”

Together we moved from the exhibition centre and emerged into the dazzling winter sunlight.

Hawk’s starship sat proudly amidst the junked remains of less fortunate space-going vessels. Golden in the winter sunlight, it squatted on the haunches of its ram-jets as if eager to take off.

We stood at the foot of the steps that rose steeply into the bulbous body of the ship. I held Hannah. “Can’t wait to see you again,” I murmured.

The truth to tell, I was still in a state of shock following what Matt had just shown us… and the implications of his revelation… and now Hannah was leaving me.

“Just five days, David, and then I’ll be back. I’m looking forward to it more than anything in the universe…” She laughed. “Listen to me, I’m sounding like a love-sick teenager.”

Matt approached. He held out his hand. “David. I’ll be back in a week. Let’s talk about everything that happened over a beer at the Jackeral, okay?”

I gripped his hand, looked into his eyes. “We’ll do that,” I said.

I kissed Hannah one last time before she, Matt and the Ambassador climbed the steps into the starship. At the top, Hannah turned and waved down at me. Then she disappeared from sight as the thick hatch sealed itself with a pressurised hiss.

Maddie, Kee and I backed off to a safe distance and stood and watched as, five minutes later, the ship powered up with a thunderous roar of its ram-jets, rose, turned on its axis and moved, slowly at first, towards the distant, shining filament of the golden column. Then it engaged its main drive and leaped forward so that, seconds later, it was a rapidly diminishing speck in the distance.

I blinked away the tears and realised that I could do with a drink.

Maddie was of a like mind. “C’mon, Mr Conway, Kee. I think a stiff one at the Jackeral is in order…”

Then, considering the events of the morning and wishing away the days until Hannah’s return, I returned to my roadster and drove slowly up the coast road to Magenta Bay.

ERIC BROWNbegan writing when he was fifteen and sold his first short story to Interzone in 1986. He has won the British Science Fiction Award twice for his short stories and has published over thirty books. His latest include the novel Xenopath and the children’s book Guilty . He writes a monthly science fiction review column for the Guardian .

He is married to the mediaevalist Finn Sinclair, and has a daughter, Freya. His website can be found at: www.ericbrown.co.uk.

Starship Winter

Copyright © 2012 by Eric Brown

The right of Eric Brown to be identified as Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. Originally published in printed book form by PS Publishing Ltd in February 2012. This electronic version published in March 2012 by PS by arrangement with the author. All rights reserved by the author.

FIRST EBOOK EDITION

ISBN 978-1-848632-49-6

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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