Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [35]
“Those are transports if I ever saw one!” Creighton said, shivering with excitement. “Bet there’s a thousand people on every one!”
The crew rose in a singular cheer that charged Shucorion to the depths of his being, but he could not react himself except to stare with a daring anticipation at the oncoming ships.
“Should we hail them?” Quinones asked.
“No,” Shucorion countered. “We’ll give them”
A dot of light appeared on the port side.
“Stand back!” he snapped to Quinones at the helm, then wasn’t satisfied and physically pulled her out of the way.
From the dot of light, a micro-gate spun itself into presence, a hole in the air that led to heavily draped surroundings of silver and brass curtains.
“No, stay put.”
It was Keller’s voice! Nick Keller’s voice speaking inside the micro-gate!
Shucorion almost stepped through, so magnetic was the sound of that voice. Only the greatest self-control prevented such action.
And to the good a hand appeared on the edge of the micro-gate. A moment later, Nick Keller himself appeared or a frazzled version of Nick Keller.
His hair, once sand-brown and casually tidy, now was beaten to a crispy shag about his shoulders, blackened at the ends as if burned. His friendly face was leathery from exposure, his clothing a perfect nightmare. He wore his regular trousers and burgundy crew sweater, but they were gaudily patched with interwoven segments of chain mail where some catastrophe or other had torn them. The left sleeve was entirely mail now, and it had brass patches on the silverwork. More than one catastrophe, apparently. What must it be like through the gateway?
Fighting thoughts of his father’s last years, Shucorion’s heart hammered as he forced himself to stand still, to let their prodigal regain his bearings.
Keller seemed to be having trouble with his eyes. He blinked around, put out a hand to steady himself, and stepped onto the bridge. Shucorion reached out to him, to offer help if he needed it. Now Keller stepped more confidently forward. He seemed to know who had him.
The micro-gate withered and winked away behind him. He didn’t give it so much as a glance.
“That you up there, she-devil?” He peered up to where he knew the sci-deck was. Perhaps he recognized the shape of Savannah Ring, or could see the dark red of her hair.
“Right here, sheriff,” she managed, controlling herself valiantly.
“Tell Riutta to stop powering the gateway. There’s nobody left on the other side. We’ll need the grave ship’s system to move these freighters. There’s no more power coming from the other side. Just let the damned hole close up for good.”
“Sure,” she rasped. Relief poured out. “Good idea. I can cure interstellar post-nasal drip why not?”
“That’s the spirit.” Keller inhaled deeply and seemed to be tasting the air. He shielded his eyes with one hand for a moment, then focused on Shucorion.
“Hey, shadow,” he greeted.
On a ragged breath Shucorion asked, “Where are… the… others?”
“They’re all over on those ships, pretty much panicking.” Keller pressed a hand over his eyes to block out the blaze. “And I don’t blame ‘em…”
Shucorion grasped his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Uh-huh, but you wouldn’t believe what I’m seeing! What senses forget in a few months… I’m just… dazzled!”
“I understand. I once went to the mountains on my planet to search for ore vanes. When I returned, the land looked so flat… I could scarcely breathe.”
Keller held up a finger. “That’s it, you got it.”
He lowered his hand to Shucorion’s arm and they held on to each other as if they might stumble without support. He looked around, adjusting, and reveled in what he saw the quatrefoil-cut spark shield on the sci-deck, the cobalt-obsidian dome overhead, the multitude of flickering data screens, the carpet, the rail.
“This bridge is… beautiful!” Now he turned