Molly Fyde and the Land of Light

Parsona rose up through the atmosphere, out toward the colorful horizon. Before breaking the ionosphere, the twin Drenard suns popped into view, bathing the cockpit in a warmth that seemed gentle, innocuous even.

While they waited for the hyperdrive to spin up, Molly navigated through the outbound buoys, waiting for an attack that never came, flying past menacing ships that spun in place, not even radioing her, just watching.

She tried to concentrate on the gauges—then saw the fusion fuel at one hundred percent, which gave her some tenuous sensation of freedom.

They were back on the run, but at least they had fresh legs.

She began visualizing the half-dozen jumps it would take to get to Dakura, but she did so in her head, leaving the nav screen free to check in with her mother. She pulled the keyboard out and typed:

MOM?_

“Mollie?”

The voice came out through the radio speakers, scaring the hyperspace out of her and Cole both. Cole reached for the mic as a reflex, obviously thinking they were being hailed. Molly jerked her hands away from the computer; the Wadi scurried to the back of her seat.

“Mollie?” the voice said again.

“Hello?” Cole asked.

“Is that Cole?”

Cole turned to Molly. “I told you she could hear us!’

“I can now,” the ship said—her mom said. It was a pleasant voice, not chipped and halting the way her old reader used to spit out text. It sounded natural, as a computer might if it could generate sounds from scratch.

“Is this what Anlyn did?”

“Yes. And more. I can see now.”

“What do you mean?” Molly asked.

“They tied me into the SADAR unit. And the cargo camera. Oh, Molly, it was all I could do not to say something when you guys boarded, but I knew it was best to explain on the way.”

“You can see through the cargo bay cam?”

“Yes. And you are so beautiful, Molly. Just as I imagined you.”

Molly reached forward to turn the volume down and power the cockpit door shut. She pulled up the cargo cam and saw Walter strapped to his seat, playing his videogame contentedly.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can we keep these upgrades between the three of us for now?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but may I ask why?”

“You can. And I’ll tell you later.”

“Take your time. Speaking of time, having something to look at paces it for me, like a little clock. The agonizing wait between sentences is gone. And I can read the old ship’s logs from the nav computer, the entries your father and I wrote—”

“That’s great, Mom. After we jump out of here, I’m gonna need to ask you some questions.”

“Of course. And I’ll be happy to tell you what I can.”

 “Can?” Molly glanced at Cole. “Because of what you know or because of what you’re allowed to say?”

“Some of both,” her mother said, the worry in her voice not sounding artificial at all.

21

The stars shifted positions, and Parsona exited hyperspace.

Molly looked down at the Wadi in her lap, wondering if it was going to throw up on her flightsuit as it experienced its first bout of hyperspace. The curious creature just flicked its tongue and looked at the dash as if it were already bored of space travel.

“Ninety four percent,” Cole advised Molly.

“Plenty. Should be enough to get to Dakura and then back to Lok. We’ll fill up in Bekkie.”

Cole leaned forward and peered at the star charts. “Keep in mind that we aren’t going in a straight shot, though. We can’t risk leaving the Drenard arm of the Milky Way anywhere along the center. The Navy’ll be looking for us.”

“It should still be enough. If we jump out to here, we can make a really long jump across the arm divide to here; there’s not much mass out there to throw us off.” Molly marked rough waypoints on her screen so Cole could see them on his.

The cockpit door slid open, and Walter stuck his head inside. “What are you guyss doing?” he asked.

Cole turned. “Just planning out our run to Dakura, buddy.” He said it with sincerity, impressing Molly once more with how hard he kept trying to make friends with Walter.

His reward, she noted, was the boy’s familiar sneer.

He turned to Molly. “Can I hold the Wadi?” he asked.

“Why don’t you get a juice pouch and see if she’s thirsty?”

He scampered back to the galley, and Cole and Molly exchanged a look. The Wadi flicked a tongue out at the dashboard.

“You really need to name her,” Cole said, nodding at the Wadi.

“I know, but the pressure’s killing me. Anlyn and Dani seem to think she’s important somehow.” Molly thought for a second. “Do I have to give her a last name with a bunch of o’s? Just for tradition?”

“How about Collette?”

“How about not.”

Walter ran back in with a juice pouch and peeled the suction tube straight. He leaned over the flight controls and waved it in front of the Wadi. The creature sniffed the air and crawled up Molly’s flightsuit, wrapping itself around her neck.

“I guesss sshe issn’t thirssty,” Walter hissed sullenly.

“It’s okay,” Molly told the Wadi, peeling its tail off and handing it to Walter. The boy took the thing at arm’s length and hissed playfully at it.

“Be very gentle with her.”

“I will,” Walter promised. He walked out of the cockpit, the Wadi’s arms pawing at the air.

Molly tapped Cole on the elbow. “Can you take the next shift?”

“Yeah, sure. You gonna get some sleep?”

“I wish.” Molly grabbed her helmet off the rack above her head. “I need to have a talk with Mom. Keep an eye on the cargo cam, would you?”

“Sure thing. You okay?”

Molly leaned over Cole’s chair and kissed his cheek. “I’m fine. I promise. I just have some questions I want answered.”

“Take your time. I’ll radio you before our next jump. I’m doing a slow spool—I’m worried we might’ve damaged the drive with so many emergency cycles earlier. So it’ll be a few hours before we can jump again.”

“Perfect. You get some rest up here. If you can.” Molly entered the cargo bay and saw Walter holding a juice pouch over his head, the Wadi swinging its claws at it.

“Don’t tease the Wadi, Walter.”

“Yesss, Captain.”

She glanced up at the camera in the corner of the cargo bay and gave Cole a stern look. Just in case he was watching.

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