Ana-Zhi had witnessed the exchange and smirked at me.
The next hour went by in a blur, and I honestly didn’t think we’d be able to make it. Especially since the Shimese representatives decided to pay us a last-minute visit to inspect our preparations. I had to do some improvising around the choice of the Freya as our ship, but they seemed satisfied. We almost lost Chiraine again, when they took her to the conference room for what I assumed was a private last-minute meeting.
But then the klaxon sounded, and she hurried on board and I turned to follow her.
“Sean,” my uncle called.
I turned.
“Godspeed, brother!” And then he silently mouthed the words thank you.
As the hatch closed beyond me, I got my first good look at the interior of the Freya. The main hold area was a hodgepodge of metal panels, pipes, ducting, cables, and displays. It looked like it had been scavenged from a dozen other ships and then thrown together in a weekend.
“What a dump,” I muttered.
“Agreed,” Chiraine said. “I’d be surprised if it doesn’t fall apart the second it hits open space.”
“Don’t you worry. The Freya has stood the test of time.” Ana-Zhi patted an oversized junction box. Someone with zero artistic talent had painted a grinning clown face on it—along with the words ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?
Ana-Zhi said, “She may not be the most comfortable ride in the fleet, but we’re not going far. And, besides, she’s sturdy enough to hold up for three days.”
“Is she?” Obarral asked. “Is she really? Because, pardon me, I didn’t really have enough time to check her out thoroughly.”
A moment later the starway track kicked in and I felt the ship moving. The towing mechanism pulled us through the launch bays and then began to rotate the Freya into takeoff position.
Ana-Zhi barked orders into a comm unit and Galish confirmed that they were almost ready for takeoff.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Chiraine said.
“You may want to sit down and strap in, missy,” Ana-Zhi said to Chiraine. “If I recall correctly, the inertial dampening on this rig tends to cycle a bit during liftoff. I wouldn’t want you to lose an eyelash.”
Xooth, Yates, and Obarral were already reclining in stained old high-backed flight seats, hooked into acceleration straps. Chiraine looked at one of the remaining seats dubiously. “I’m really afraid I’ll stick to it and won’t be able to get out.”
Ana-Zhi strode over, and in one quick motion jabbed her finger at the other woman’s chest, knocking Chiraine back into the seat. “I said, sit down!”
Then she shot me a look. “Captain, this way please.”
She marched me down the access corridor towards the bridge. There Galish sat in the pilot’s seat, running through the final launch sequence. “Everything looks good.”
“Really?” she asked. “Because I hear the thermal dispersers rattling like a banshee. Don’t you hear that?”
Ana-Zhi sighed and eased herself onto the bench behind him and patted the seat next to her. As I sat down beside her, she asked “You fly?”
“Nothing like this. I’ve got a Swallow hover-jet.”
“Of course you do,” she smirked. “What year?”
“’57. The XK.”
“Respectable.”
“And sometimes me and my friends go out on quad-jumpers and skimmers. Just messing around.”
“Well, let’s just hope you never have to fly this thing. It’s a damn sight less maneuverable than a skimmer. Pushing around a hundred and sixty thousand k’s through atmosphere with an old Kiyoshi R-drive is not for the faint of heart.”
“Believe me, I have no desire to take the wheel. I’m just doing this for my uncle. If it was up to me, I’d be back in New Torino right now.”
She fixed me with a hard look, but didn’t say anything.
“Okay, clear!” Galish announced.
“Take us out,” Ana-Zhi said.
He keyed the thrusters and we slowly eased away from the space station, running on interval power. As Ana-Zhi had warned, there was a brief lurch and hiccup in the IDS and I was pressed against my seat. But then the wonky component kicked in and everything went back to normal.
It took a good hour to get over to the Fountain and get in position. The Rhya had very specific instructions and navigation vectors which they transmitted directly to us.
Up close, the Fountain didn’t look anything like a fountain at all. It was a massive ringed structure, kind of like a Kreider-Johnston torus—bristling with solar mirrors, sensor arrays, and navigational beam turrets. The center of it was an open space crackling with blue energy and a miasma of light.
We joined a small flotilla of craft waiting to enter. Most of them were the odd, organically-shaped vessels of the Rhya. These were research vessels, freighters, and wardships that the Rhya used to provide aid to the Obaswoon. But in front of us was the crimson-colored Lamprey-class scout of the Mayir, with its sharp angles and bat-like stabilizers. Beyond it was the Faiurae cutter, glossy and swooped in appearance. They must be looking over at our floating junk pile and laughing their asses off.
“It might be another couple of hours until we get through this queue,” Ana-Zhi. “You might want to get Dr. Port-a-Potty set up with her gear so we can get to work once we get through.”
I was about to tell her to do it herself, but I decided not to. It would help with the pretense if I were to order the crew about.
Back in the main hold area I found Chiraine struggling with some equipment crates. The other crew members seemed to be ignoring her.
“Need some help?”
“Does it look like I need help?” she huffed. “I don’t even know where I’m supposed to set up.”
I had spotted an engineering bay on the way to the bridge. It seemed as good a place as any. I grabbed a crate and called to Yates, “Help us get set up. On the double. We won’t have much time once we break atmosphere.”
He raised
