Security - Keith R. A. DeCandido [21]
“You’re wasting your time,” the Kharzh’ullan said, and only then did Tev realize that his fellow passenger was Eevraith, the one who took credit for Tev’s own study of the orbital ring.
Ignoring Eevraith, Tev continued down the ladder.
“Why allow everyone to believe the paper was his and not yours?”
By the time he got to the conductor’s level, alarms were blaring. “What’s happening?”
The Kharzh’ullan conductor turned around—this was also Eevraith. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am,” he said impatiently. “Tell me what’s happening, Eevraith.”
“The brakes appear to have failed. We’re in free fall.”
Tev asked, “What of the emergency brakes?”
Eevraith shook his head.
“There must be something we can do,” said Tev.
“There is nothing you can do, Mor glasch Tev. You know nothing about the Ring.”
“I’d say you were right about everything except about its being unoccupied. There, you’re dead wrong.”
Ignoring Eevraith’s words, Tev said, “I think if we restart the computer system, we might be able to restore the electromagnetic polarity.” He went to the nearest console and began the shutdown sequence.
Then the station went dark. As it did, the shuttle rocked as it bounced off the guide rails, out of control. “Can you restart that console?” he asked Eevraith, who looked ridiculous in the conductor’s uniform.
“Of course, I can. I know everything about the Ring, thanks to my stealing your work.”
“The next time you step out of line with me, I’ll have your ass in front of a court-martial at warp ten.”
“Tev? Tev, I don’t want to die.”
At first, the voice was Eevraith’s. Then Tev realized it was a woman’s voice.
“Mother?”
“That was the last straw, Tev. That was the last time you disobey my orders or flaunt my authority.”
“Tev?” she repeated, but it wasn’t his mother this time.
It was Commander Gomez.
“We’re not going to stop, are we? And that’s because you screwed up. Just like you did on Kharzh’ulla. Just like you did at Avril.”
“She’s right,” Eevraith said. “And now we’re all going to die because of you.”
The shuttle crashed into the surface of the planet.
And Tev awoke with a start, sweat matting down the hair on his body and soaking through the sheets of his bunk.
That dream had been a gift from an ancient species known as the Furies, whom Tev encountered while serving on the Madison. It was years before the dream stopped recurring every night, and he hadn’t had it for months—until the da Vinci’s mission to Kharzh’ulla and his reunion with Eevraith.
This time, though, was different. Neither Eevraith nor Commander Gomez had ever been part of the dream before.
“Computer, time.”
“The time is 0950 hours.”
Tev snuffled. Not even two hours’ sleep. “Computer, locate Specialist Faulwell.”
“Crewperson Faulwell is in the mess hall.”
Tev got up from his bunk and changed into uniform. Bartholomew is probably still working on his Syclarian article. Tev needed someone to talk to, and Bartholomew was the only person on the ship he’d even consider a personal conversation with.
A scattering of crew members were in the mess hall when Tev arrived. Several engineers—Hammett, Lankford, Bennett, and Phelps—were drinking coffee along with a woman Tev did not recognize, but whom he presumed to be Lise Irastorza, the replacement for the late Theodore Deverick. The gamma-shift bridge crew were also just getting up to leave after what appeared to be a large post-shift meal.
Tev went straight for Bartholomew, who had a table to himself, his padds spread out as they had been in the observation lounge. “Excuse me, Bartholomew, may I join you?”
The thin linguist looked up and smiled when he saw Tev. “Sure, have a seat.” The smile grew and he added, “I’m afraid I don’t have any apple rancher candies.”
“It is a bit early for those.” Tev found himself returning the smile. He wasn’t sure why he felt so much at ease around Bartholomew. Perhaps it was because he did not seem intimidated by Tev