Every day, waking up feels like I’m strapping on lead boots and daring myself not to sink beneath the dark, dark water. I run in place, and I pretend, but it’s not getting better. Only time will do that, at least according to Vel. He says it like a promise, so I live for the day, maybe fifty turns from now, when I don’t feel sick over what I’ve done.
Gehenna first, though. Vel and I have unfinished business there. He will want to visit Adele—as the last time, she said he’d see her again—and I need to hire Doc’s old friend, Ordo Carvati. There’s a certain symmetry in that. While we tend to those matters, Hit and Dina can go for the open markets and the leashed wildness of life inside the dome. Gehenna was the only place where I ever lived for myself, like a normal person, and therefore, it will always hold a special spot in my heart.
“I will see you later, Sirantha. I have many irons in the fire.”
I have to chuckle at Vel’s attempt to speak colloquially; he always does so with such formality. After watching him go, I rush through the rest of my meetings, and at night, I run instead of sleep, but the memories are always nipping at my heels. In the silence, I wonder how much longer I can continue without breaking. But escape will help; grimspace will welcome me home, no matter what.
A week later, I resign my place at the training facility and turn it over, gladly, to my successor. There is no fanfare when I walk away from New Terra, when I climb the ramp and run toward the cockpit. The stars await me with their cool auras and their nonjudgmental light. As the world falls away behind me, I settle into the nav chair, with Hit beside me. Since we have flown together before, I have no fear of her.
This feels like coming home.
CHAPTER 16
This world fades into beautiful darkness, just nothing and more nothing.
I welcome the black because it means I’m only a whisper away from my first jump in long, long months. Hit jacks in beside me, and she’s mentally disciplined as only a trained killer can be. A whisper of respect filters from her, but that’s all she gives me; everything else belongs to Dina—and that’s how it ought to be.
The phase drive powers up smoothly, hardly shaking the ship at all despite its small size, which means Dina has been hard at work. I gather she’s already installed the mod that permits direct jumps because I feel the cations firing in my veins in response to the ones in the nav com. The ship mind is brand-new, nascent and curious. I let it get to know me as we prepare to make the leap.
With a small shiver, we pass from straight space into the maelstrom. Grimspace blazes in my mind, full of lovely, chaotic colors. The stars have gone, but the ancients left beacons in their place, the ones I reprogrammed at such great cost. They echo with me now, giving a whisper of Jax to eternity, and that knowledge humbles me. Countless eons from now, I will remain, my heartbeat as part of the navigation system for societies I cannot conceive.
Here, I feel whole. But I cannot stay; I would die. As with any living creature, grimspace would drain me and cast me adrift as one of its infinite ghosts. I care too much about those I carry on this ship to let that happen, though I imagine making the jump alone someday . . . and never coming back. I used to dream of retiring on Venice Minor, but I am far past such innocent hopes. The best I can imagine now is dying here, where none can know to mourn me.
Hit gives no sign she’s aware of these thoughts as we prep for the return. I use the new pulses to find Gehenna, then make the fold that permits us to pass through. Hit responds to my mental directions, following with seamless skill. We return smoothly, emerging a few thousand klicks from Gehenna.
Even at this remove, I see the streaks of gold and orange, flashes of red that make it so spectacular from the ground. I can’t imagine what led them to build here, where there isn’t even a breathable atmosphere, but it’s a rich man’s paradise, artificial and full of glamour. They say you can buy any extravagance on Gehenna, provided you have the contacts and the credits. I know from my time with Adele that there are lords of vice who have built their kingdoms on the sins of strangers.
Adele gave me shelter when I needed it most. She awakened a hint of spirituality in a soul that had previously lived only for pleasure. In short, she was the mother I always wanted, and I treasure my memory of my short time with her. I learned so much about human kindness.
Hit taps the comm. “Gehenna authority, this is the Big Bad Sue, requesting clearance and coordinates.”
I grin and mouth at her, The Big Bad Sue?
She shrugs and mutes the mic for a second. “It came with the moniker, and Dina liked it. Like I’m gonna tell her no.”
“I like it, too.” It just strikes me as funny because this little ship clearly isn’t a big bad anything. Sounds to me like the prior owner had a sense of humor.
“Big Bad Sue, what’s your purpose in port?”
“We plan to visit friends and relatives, enjoy your fine hospitality, and spend a few credits.”
“Big Bad Sue, you said the magic words. Are you carrying cargo today?”
Hit shakes her head though only I can see her, as they haven’t engaged the vid—no need and it distracts the pilot. Too many crash landings by those of lesser skill, and they learned better. “Negative, authority. Personnel only.”
“Stand by for docking bay number and trajectory for your arrival. We will, of course, need to scan for contraband.”
“And then tax us on it,” Hit mutters.
I stifle a laugh because that’s so true. They don’t much care what you bring into the dome, unless it’s Morgut, but you damn well better expect to pay the powers that be a cut of the profits. They won’t find anything interesting on us, however; we truly are here to see old friends . . . and trade in information.