Catalyst

  “A while.” Andira looked far too innocent. “Oh, and I forgot to mention something. Tesseron brought a guest. Come on out!” she called in a louder voice.

  Before Ekatya could ask, an unmistakably short silhouette appeared at the tail of the fighter. She was moving without even being aware of it, her heart leaping at the sight of her old friend.

  “Chief!” she cried. “Shippers, it’s been too long!”

  “About time you made it back.” Chief Kameha grinned up at her. “I thought you’d never escape Tashartarus.”

  It was their private name for Tashar, a combination of the planet’s name and Tartarus, and hearing it broke open something inside her. As a flood of happiness welled up, she barely stopped herself from grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. Instead she held out a hand to his, only to find him holding up a palm in the Alsean way. Quickly she raised her palm, just as he held out his hand for a shake. With a laugh, she gave up and went with her first impulse. They had never embraced before, but she had not seen him since leaving Alsea, and in the meantime she had lost her crew and spent over sixteen months trapped in the paranoid cesspool of Gov Dome. To Hades with expectations; she was too glad to see a real friend.

  He went stiff for a moment, then laughed as well and squeezed her tightly. “You have no idea how much I miss this,” he said. “The Alseans have been wonderful, but nobody hugs me.”

  “That’s your own fault. All you had to do was find a lover, and from what I hear, you’ve had your pick.”

  He blushed. “My pick, sure, but who had the time?”

  “It’s true; we’ve been keeping him rather busy.” Andira had joined them, along with Tesseron.

  “Then if it’s hugs you need, come back to the Phoenix with me. I’m still trying to teach my chief engineer to speak in normal sentences.”

  “Do not try to poach the man I poached from you, Captain.”

  Kameha looked back and forth between them. “So if I came back with you, I’d be in charge of that lovely Pulsar-class ship that just fell out of the dock?”

  Ekatya nodded. “She still smells new. The plantings haven’t overcome that yet.”

  “I see.” Kameha leaned in. “Did you know that I’m building a space elevator?”

  “Are you trying to tell me that tweaking the power flow of a surf engine isn’t the same?”

  “Not even close.” He leaned back again, hooking his thumbs into the decorative chest chain that held his light blue half-cape in place. “Not to mention the fact that your crew wouldn’t worship me the way the Alseans do. I’ve gotten used to that.”

  “And yet you still can’t find time for a lover. I don’t think you have a proper grasp of being worshipped.”

  Andira made a soft sound of amusement. “Since it seems my Chief of Advanced Technology is beyond temptation, I’ll take advantage of Tesseron and get a tour of that fighter. Join us when you’re ready, Ekatya.”

  She and Tesseron climbed into opposite sides of the fighter, leaving Ekatya alone with a smiling Kameha.

  “That was polite of her,” he said. “I do love it here, but sometimes I want to scream at the idea of spending one more hantick being careful about what I think and feel. She left us alone together so we can pretend that she can’t sense us.”

  Ekatya glanced at the fighter’s cockpit to see Andira in the copilot’s seat, her gaze on the control panel as Tesseron explained something from the pilot’s seat next to her. “I thought she left us alone so we could speak freely.”

  “That too, but to the Alseans, it’s all a kind of hearing. They talk about listening to emotions.”

  “How do you deal with that?” she asked. “It makes my skin crawl sometimes, knowing that I have no privacy. Especially around people I don’t trust.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I learned to trust. They might know everything I’m feeling, but that’s in my head, yes? So they see it as private. It would be rude for them to mention what they sense if I haven’t said or done anything to bring it out of my head and into the open. It’s like…” He paused, tapping his forefinger against his chin in a familiar motion. “Say we have a section chief briefing on the Caphenon right after you get off the quantum com with some torquat back at Command Dome. Everyone knows you’re so angry you could chew through the hull, but you don’t say a word about it. Nobody else will, either.”

  “Nobody would say a word because I’m the captain,” she said.

  “Bad example. Rephrasing. I’m the one grumping and you don’t say anything.”

  “But I would, if we weren’t in a briefing. I’d say something in private.”

  “Ah!” He pointed at her. “Exactly. If they’re a friend, they might say something. But a coworker? A builder touring me around the latest output from the seed cable manufacturing? They won’t.”

  “So you’re saying it’s not much different in the end. In terms of actions.”

  “No, not really. What made it different was how I felt knowing they knew. Once I realized they wouldn’t embarrass me, I relaxed.”

  “But what about the Alseans you don’t like? How can you stand knowing they know?”

  “I don’t have much choice, do I?” He smiled at her expression. “It might be harder for a captain than for a chief of engineering. I never bothered to keep my feelings off my face.”

  “Shipper shit,” she said. “You may not have cared as much as I do, but there were always things you kept off your face. Shall I list them?”

  “You should emulate the Alseans and not be rude. I take your point.”

  “I thought being rude was something I was entitled to. As a friend.” It felt so good, so easy, to fall into this familiar routine with him.

  His grin said he felt the same way. “I missed this. It’s not the same over the quantum com.”

  “No, it’s not.” She looked him up and down, taking a moment of joy in his physical presence. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

  “I know.” He sobered. “I’m sorry about Lhyn. Is she better?”

  Ekatya shot another glance at the fighter, where Andira was now gesturing at something as Tesseron watched. “She is. Thank you for asking. We…haven’t told anyone else. Here, I mean.”

  “Do you plan to?”

  “Yes, and I’m dreading it. I think I’m dreading it more than she is.”

  “She might look thin and fragile, but that woman is strong,” he said. “And she has you looking out for her.”

  “Not when I should have been.” She tried to ignore the twinge of guilt, but he looked at her knowingly.

  “When it counted.” His voice was quiet but firm. “When she needed you the most.”

  She ran a hand through her hair, glancing back once more at the fighter. Andira looked away, but not quickly enough.

  “A topic for another time,” she said. “Apparently, I’m supposed to be relaxing by taking this thing of beauty up for a flight.”

  “It is a thing of beauty, isn’t it?” He led her toward the fighter and gave the gleaming white exterior a loving pat. “The builders really are a caste after my own heart. When I told them what it would take to make these fly, they didn’t moan about cost and materials and labor. They talked about the vast potential of hands-on learning and how they could use the opportunity to train an entire labor force for producing more. I told them how much work it would be, and they acted like it was a Shipper-damned gift. Couldn’t wait to tear them apart and put them back together again. And they did fine work.”

  She put her hand next to his. It was odd, not feeling the soft texture of hullskin. This exterior was cool and smooth to the touch, and she had a sudden vision of Kameha in a factory somewhere, humming over blueprints and material samples and having the time of his life.

  “We’re never getting you back, are we?” she asked.

  He paused, then slowly sh
ook his head. “Who knows what might happen ten cycles from now, but what I’m doing here—it’s a life labor. And I’m helping to change an entire civilization. Can’t really ask for more than that.”

  “You could ask for a lover.”

  He gave her a look of exasperated affection, then began to speak of the friends he had made, some she had already heard about and others whose names she did not recognize. She leaned a shoulder against the fighter, watching his expression grow more animated as he talked about a life he no longer shared with her, people they did not have in common, and goals they no longer worked toward together. The tang of loss was sharp in her throat.

  “Can you stay?” she asked suddenly, interrupting him in mid-sentence. “There have to be other resorts around here. We could find you something if you have the time. It’s just so good to see you, and I don’t—”

  “Lancer Tal already invited me.”

  “She did? On her bonding break?”

  “She called yesterday. Said there are a couple of empty cabins in your ring. I’ll be here tonight and tomorrow.”

  “That woman.” She exhaled, feeling the tension leaving her shoulders, and was not surprised to find Andira’s eyes on her when she looked up. Ekatya smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, enjoying the way Andira’s face lit up, then turned back to Kameha. “In that case, I have a fighter to fly while you go find your cabin. Be sure to check out the bathroom; it’s spectacular. Or at least I assume it is, given what ours looks like.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. But first I have to make sure you remember how to get this off the ground. Sixteen months in Gov Dome…” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I’m surprised you could find your bridge chair after that.”

  “Which is why they made me requalify on all of the shuttle and fighter models before I took the Phoenix out of the dock. So if you want to let me blow what little hair you have left off the top of your head, stay right here.”

  As he huffed in pretended offense, she pushed off the hull and stepped around him. The sun was barely up, and this was already a great day. Now she was going to make it even better.

  CHAPTER 16:

  Taking it for a twirl

  Tesseron climbed down from the cockpit at Ekatya’s approach and held up a flat, padded object, rectangular on the outside with an open ring in the center. “Put this over your head, please. This side in front.”

  She tugged it on and stood still as he arranged it to rest comfortably on her chest and upper back. “What is it?”

  “A crash collar.” He strapped it into place.

  “Which we’d better not need,” Andira called from the copilot’s seat. She was already wearing one.

  Ekatya rubbed her fingertips on the collar. It looked like cloth but felt like flexible metal. “Does it inflate on impact?”

  “Half a piptick before that.” Tesseron finished with her straps and stepped back. “It’s really just insurance, given the pressure seats in these fighters. We’re already incorporating those in our transports. That is some shiny technology.” He gestured toward the pilot’s seat. “Climb in, Captain.”

  She scrambled up the short ladder on the pilot’s side, which was still in its landing position while the copilot’s ladder was already resealed into the fighter’s belly. As she settled into the familiar seat, a quick scan of the control panel proved that not everything was the same.

  “Alsean script,” she said, tracing her finger over the slender, curving characters. “Suddenly that part of the qualifying test seems far more practical.”

  “I didn’t think about that.” Andira’s tone was worried. “Will you—”

  “If you finish that sentence, I’m going to be insulted.”

  Andira snapped her mouth shut, amusement on her narrow features. “I sense a certain confidence.”

  “Fleet piloting certification is very thorough. Part of the test involves flying in a simulated cockpit without any labels on the controls, because in a combat situation we can’t be reading labels to find the right one.”

  “And how often have you flown a fighter in a combat situation?”

  “Never,” Ekatya said, certain that Andira already knew that. “Which is why all captains complain vociferously about that part of the test. And a few other parts, too.”

  “Then I’m glad your instructors are so thorough. Tesseron tells me that nothing has changed from the fighter you’re familiar with, except that the new exterior means it flies faster in atmospheric conditions without shielding.”

  “Faster, really?”

  “Smoother airflow,” Tesseron said from his position on the top step of the ladder. “Hullskin isn’t as slick. So the controls will respond a little differently. Not much, but a little.”

  “And that’s the only difference?”

  “That, and ours is more beautiful.” His enthusiasm was infectious.

  “I can’t argue with that,” Ekatya said. “I can’t even take offense.” She flicked on the nav screen and blinked at the lack of information. “All right, first issue. Where is my flight path?”

  “That way.” Andira pointed east, toward the ocean.

  “Er…we’re usually slightly more specific than that.”

  Tesseron chuckled. “Not here. The only things in that direction are a few fishing boats and the Crooked Ridge port platform. There’s a cargo flight and a passenger flight twice per nineday between Crooked Ridge and the mainland, and they’re not today.”

  “There won’t be anything out there but us,” Andira added. “And the airspace over this part of the island is closed this morning.”

  Ekatya could not hold back the smile. They were handing her freedom on a plate, with a gorgeous fighter to get her there.

  “What about communication?” She tapped the quantum com. “Is this in general use now?”

  “Not yet,” Andira said. “Mass production is on the list, but we’ve had other priorities. For now, we’re still using headsets.” She picked up a small collapsible headset from her lap, opened it with a few deft twists, and held it out. Ekatya marveled at the light weight as she set it over her ears. Andira quickly unfolded and donned a second one, tapped the side of it, then reached over and tapped Ekatya’s.

  “We’re on a private channel at the moment,” she said, her voice sounding as if it were coming from inside Ekatya’s head. “These are operated by voice command, so if you need to contact anyone else, just say it, starting with the fighter’s identification. Blue Seventeen to Whitemoon Base, com check.”

  “This is Whitemoon Base,” said a male voice. “Blue Seventeen confirmed at Mahaite Island, altitude sixteen paces. Do you want coordinates?”

  “Not necessary, thank you. Com, switch.” She met Ekatya’s eyes and added, “Saying ‘switch’ automatically changes this to your previously set channel.”

  “Short and easy; I like it. And the sound is impressive. It’s no different from my com implant.”

  “With the advantage that it also blocks external noise.”

  “Not that there’s much of that in these fighters,” Tesseron added. “It’s one of the best things about them, the quiet.”

  Ekatya could hear him clearly despite the headset covering her ears. “I assume this accounts for voices and doesn’t block them?”

  “Yes,” they said simultaneously.

  She shook her head at the sensation of two voices coming into her brain through different pathways.

  “Let’s not do that, please,” she said. “One of you at a time. So I have coms, I know where I’m going, and all of the other controls are the same. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Just how to put on your harness,” Andira said with a grin.

  “I am going to wipe that off your face,” she told the infuriating woman, then turned to catch Tesseron sporting a matching expression. “Thank you for your ass
istance, First Pilot. Am I clear to depart?”

  “As soon as I drag the chief to a safe distance.” He nodded at her, saluted Andira, and jumped down.

  Ekatya went through her startup checks, snapped on her restraint harness, and fired the engines. A thrill fluttered through her stomach at the familiar sound. It took less than a minute to finish the preflight checks, and when she looked up through the cockpit bubble, Tesseron and Kameha were standing at the foot of the bridge.

  A quick glance verified that Tesseron had shown Andira how to put on her own harness. “Ready?” she asked.

  “For ages.”

  Ekatya shook her head. “You only invited Kameha yesterday. Are all Lancers this impatient?”

  “Why are we still on the ground?”

  Without bothering to reply, Ekatya pulled back the control stick. The fighter jumped straight up at a rate of speed guaranteed to leave a newbie’s stomach on the landing pad.

  Andira merely looked interested.

  Ekatya brought the craft to a hover and reminded herself that Andira piloted her own transports, even if they were slow cruisers compared to this. It would take a little more to shake her up.

  Perhaps she would start with a nice, high-speed turn.

  “Shall we fly a tour around Pica Mahal?” she asked.

  “I was hoping we would.”

  The massive volcano was too close for her to open up the fighter’s engines. But when they reached it, naked of clouds this early in the morning, she flipped them into a forty-five-degree bank and flew a circuit so rapid and tight that the seats engaged their pressure form, flowing into a new shape to support her head and the parts of her body that were being flattened by the acceleration forces.

  “Yes!” Andira sounded delighted as she peered up through the cockpit bubble at the volcano’s rugged flanks. “Now this is flying!”

  Smiling ruefully, Ekatya rolled out of the bank to level flight once more. She would have to try harder. “Can we go inside the caldera? Any emissions?”

  “It’s dead and perfectly safe. They fly tour groups into it in the high season.”