Into the Void (Beyond Humanity Book 1) Page 4

  "Look," Gwynn finally said, probably unable to keep her mouth shut for even a moment longer. Oliver was surprised she lasted even as long as she had. "Do we want to be getting involved in Casseract business? This could be some sort of corporate espionage. Weren't we supposed to be doing supply runs this month?"

  "The job was interesting and the paycheck was too good to ignore," Oliver said. His entire crew was well aware of the fact that he wanted to see more of the system, and not one of them had been surprised when he'd taken this job. But Gwynn did have a point. He didn't want his crew getting pulled into anything that could potentially harm them, physically or otherwise. Or even just letting Gwynn risk pissing off the daughter of someone far more powerful than she'd ever been up against before. And Gwynn could piss off just about anyone.

  "I don't work for my father's company," Evie said. "I never have. I just needed a ride."

  "You needed a ride out to somewhere where there's nothing for thousands of kilometers?" Gwynn asked. "Sure. There's nothing to see out there, so I really don't get what's in this for us."

  Sprocket laughed. "The point isn't to see anomalies or phenomenon. The point is to go. Soon my idea of a good time will be building blocks and baby bottles, so I’m happy to stretch my space legs for a few more days. And really, I don't see the harm so long as we’re back right on schedule."

  Gwynn took a few long seconds to glower before responding. "And what if we don't see the harm until it's right on top of us?"

  Oliver scratched at his now clean-shaven jaw, trying to see all sides at once. Gwynn wasn't usually the type to worry about trouble. At least Sprocket seemed to be on board.

  "Look, you signed a contract. And my money is still good. That's what's in it for you."

  Nodding, Oliver had to admit that the points Evie offered were good ones. Everyone had good points. Which was part of his confusion, but ultimately, the decision was his. "Can you give us a few minutes?" he finally asked.

  Evie looked like she wanted to argue, but instead only shrugged. "I'll be in my room. But we had a deal about getting out of here on time if you want your bonus. And I hate to be the type to hold that over your heads, but I just want to get going."

  "What are you running from?" Gwynn asked.

  "Stop," Oliver said, quiet but clearly enough that everyone heard him.

  Gwynn did manage to stop herself from finding another retort, at least until Evie had left the room and they'd all heard the secondary bridge door shut behind her. But as soon as she was gone, the Lexiconis' youngest crewmember started up all over again. For everything Gwynn lacked in age, she made up for in attitude. And talent. And temper. But she was as much a part of their crew as anyone else, and her voice deserved to be heard, even if Oliver did suspect she was only angry because she'd been blindsided.

  They all had been.

  As Gwynn finished her ramble, Oliver looked to his pilot who hadn't chimed in yet. "Any thoughts", he asked, signing the question.

  Lincoln answered back through a series of rapid hand movements, his preferred method of speaking over using the digital voice that Gwynn had set up for him last year. "A job is a job, like you said. And I think it would be nice to let the Lexiconis stretch her wings a little bit. I was looking forward to this, and still am."

  While Lincoln liked to stay out of the way and out of the drama, more than anyone else, Oliver wasn't exactly surprised by his answer. Once his pilot got it in his head that he was going to do something, it was hard to change his path.

  "Sprocket?"

  "I'm fine with this. I mean, she should have been more upfront. But she's hiring us for a job and whatever her reasons are, when did we start asking for justifications for any of the jobs we take? Besides, it's hard to hide anything in open space, so it's not like there's some military base there or something. Someone would've found it already. I don't know, rich people can be weird. Eccentric. So, if she wants to go, I'm all for us being the ones to take her. And let's face it, we all know I could use the money. And I'm not the only one."

  Oliver had been expecting another argument, but instead Gwynn quieted.

  "Well?" Oliver said when she still hadn't answered.

  "Oh, now you want my opinion?" But the edge was gone from Gwynn's voice. She was teasing him. Already, just taking the newcomer out of the room had made her more herself. "I'm all for taking this girl’s money. This is going to be the easiest job we've ever done. Boring, but easy. And it'll give me a chance to catch up on repairs to the central environmental systems. We are still getting repeating sensor data from every room on the second deck."

  "Okay," Oliver said, taking it all in. "It seems like we're all on board. But it would be nice if Safa had managed to make an appearance to let us know what she thinks."

  "She probably won't even notice that we left the station until we get back," Gwynn said, teasing again as no one on board would ever say a mean word about Safa Khouri. She was odd, but she was theirs.

  "That’s settled then. We're doing this. Which means now we can get down to final checks and get out of here. So, did anyone actually have anything to report?"

  ***

  There was only so much time that Oliver could spend sitting on the bridge, staring out at the space beyond him before reality sunk back in. He still had a ship to run, he still had a job to do.

  The Lexiconis was about two days outside of Centuri, and a few hours away from being farther into the system than Oliver had been since he was a child. Sitting in the captain's chair and watching the system fly by, Oliver had to admit that it did kind of all look the same. Stars, stars, and more stars. At least until he looked over at Jupiter, which was coming up fast.

  The trio of space stations orbiting Jupiter made up one of the last truly inhabited parts of the system. This area wasn't as impressive as the Mars orbit, and still it was incredible. And once, it had been home. It had been two decades since his family had left the far reaches of the system for the promise of more, which made seeing the massive planet now, on his way to go further than he ever had before, feel that much more important.

  Lincoln had promised that he'd let Oliver know before the Lexiconis flew past the system's largest planet. The captain took this as a hint to stop, quite literally, staring into space and get back to work.

  However, Oliver didn't know what else to do with himself. He didn't have any cargo to check on or communications to coordinate. In theory, he still had all of the regular paperwork and supply manifests to go over, but there was still more than a week to get that done.

  For now, he got to do something that so rarely popped up in the schedule anymore – to simply enjoy his ship.

  When Oliver had first saved up enough to buy a ship of his own, after working countless overtime hours on a freighter fleet that operated solely between Mars and the Lunar colonies, he planned to get something much smaller. He wanted a ship that would hold him and maybe a couple of friends. But it had quickly been obvious that the idea wouldn't be practical in the long run. There was no way to make money with fast ships that made up in speed what they lacked in cargo room. Instead, he'd purchased the Lexiconis, giving both himself and his new ship the chance to start over.

  It was a practical ship, and if he was honest with himself, it had taken Oliver a while to fall in love with it. But now it was his. Now, it was home.

  Quickly making his way down to the lowest level of the ship, Oliver found the floor of the engineering room covered with what had to be every single piece of equipment on board. Or at least everything mechanical that could possibly be used to keep the Lexiconis flying. And his engineer was nowhere to be found.

  "Anyone home?" he shouted. The Lexiconis' engine was large and not exactly sleek, and once combined with all of the other systems that kept the ship habitable and functioning, there were countless places for a grown man, even one as big as Sprocket, to hide. More than once Oliver found his friend sleeping in the strange places tucked between bulkheads and pipelines.

 
"Hey, boss." Oliver spun around to find Sprocket climbing down from the ceiling.

  "Do I even want to know?"

  "I've been stashing spare parts in the ceiling so the girls can't find them and incorporate them into whatever insanity they've started in on this week."

  "Inventory time, I take it."

  "It's been a while. And I figure we should work out what we have now, so we don't waste any time. Once we get back I can start restocking and getting everything we need to finish the upgrades. Then I'll have an easier system in place for whoever replaces me."

  "Supports," Oliver said with a smile. "We're not replacing you."

  Sprocket only shrugged, returning to what he'd been doing like he was still alone in the engine room.

  "At least you found a way to keep busy," Oliver said with a forced chuckle, not wanting to face what Sprocket hadn't quite been willing to say. And it was a little unusual to see his best friend working so frantically, not needing to be nudged into getting something vital done on a deadline.

  "I'm trying to make the most of this time. Things have been so quiet …"

  "Well, space is big. You know how it is. But we're coming up on Jupiter pretty soon, if you want to see it."

  "Absolutely." Sprocket’s dark head bobbed up and down, but it lacked so much of his usual enthusiasm.

  "Is everything alright?" Oliver had thought his friend had been looking forward to this as much as he was.

  "Sure. It's just hard to wonder if you really needed me for this one. I mean, I wanted to come," Sprocket said quickly, “but Elise wanted me to stay. And you probably could have made do."

  "Let's face it, I don't think the ships ever going to be able to make do without you. Not really. If I'd known you wanted to stay home …" There was no end that sentence. Oliver had known that Sprocket had promised to stay with Elise, and that he had a kid on the way. But he had also needed him. "It's a long trip, and we don't know exactly how this old girl’s going to behave. I didn't want to risk getting out in the middle of nowhere, where no one would even know to look for us, and getting into trouble. Not without someone competent to help dig us out of whatever mess I get us into." Sprocket’s already worried expression seemed to blanch a little. "It's going to be fine. It's going to be boring. But you know me, I'd rather play it safe, even if we’re doing something kind of insane. If it was the wrong call … I'm sorry."

  At last, Sprocket looked up, really looking at Oliver, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hey. Nothing to worry about. I'm here now, and we'll make the most of it. One last hurrah before I'm the one that has to start playing it safe. And you get a well-organized ship for your trouble."

  Oliver would choose the usual chaos and having Sprocket around over organization without him any time, but that wouldn't be his choice to make for much longer.

  Chapter Five – Lincoln

  Some people are not built for space travel.

  Some of those people are also stupid enough to commit themselves to a life among the stars anyway.

  Lincoln had survived far worse than boredom with a touch of claustrophobia, but that didn't mean this job wasn't getting to him.

  After a week cooped up on the Lexiconis, the ship's pilot was convinced this trip was going to take a real bite out of his sanity. At first, he'd been able to convince himself he was having a good time. It was a chance to catch up on his reading, and to spend more time in the Lexiconis' underused gym. Gwynn had even given him a few lessons in helping him tweaking the code for the program that integrated all the ship's systems on the bridge.

  It was only after five days or so that his skin had begun to itch and his mind had started to play tricks on him. He'd never liked being cooped up and while the Lexiconis wasn't tiny, he could still always feel the walls around him as much as see them. But he'd needed the work and Oliver had been the only person willing to take a chance on a deaf pilot. And Lincoln had agreed to this job as much as every other, knowing how much time it meant spending on board despite just having gotten back from a week among the stars. Also knowing how much the bonus money would help in getting him enough money to buy a place down on the surface of a planet … Mars, Earth, it didn't really matter. His parents were on Earth, but they hadn't exactly been banging down his door for him to come visit.

  At least now, as Lincoln took inventory of the ship's food supplies just for something to do, they were less than an hour away from reaching the halfway point, then they could turn around and go home, and Lincoln would get some time off.

  Despite eating all of her meals with the crew, Evelyn Casseract still hadn't given any hints about what she expected to find at the coordinates the ship was currently pointed toward. Almost everyone else had given up on caring, accepting that Evie would be off their ship soon and no longer their problem. Lincoln only cared so much in that he was rooting for there to be a whole lot of nothing where they were headed so there was no point loitering around in even more empty space.

  But every time the topic had come up, Evie's relaxed and confident demeanor had changed. Only slightly, maybe even so little that no one who wasn't paying attention would notice. But Lincoln had stopped paying attention to whatever it was Evie was saying, counting on his readouts to get him caught up later. Instead, when Evie spoke, Lincoln had taken to watching the way she moved. Whatever words she was speaking, her body was screaming with nerves. She was constantly fidgeting with her jewelry, and tended to project her certainty in whatever she was saying just a little too hard. Almost like she was selling something. A story, a lie. How much of it she believed herself, he couldn't say.

  But he'd find out soon enough.

  After finishing up counting all the canned vegetables that sat on one of the lower counters, Lincoln logged himself into the touch screen display above the sink. Immediately, his own personal interface came up, showing him where each member of the crew was on one side of the screen in case he needed to find anyone. The other side displayed any information he might need from the helm, making it accessible anywhere on board so he could stay apprised of the Lexiconis' status even when his job as pilot felt like little more than point and shoot.

  They were still on track, still headed toward the region of space Evie had paid to get to, and still picking up absolutely nothing on sensors.

  More curious than anything, he clicked through to Evie, though she still showed up merely as guest in their system. This was where Lincoln's version of the Lexiconis’ interactive system varied a little from everyone else's.

  15:03

  Guest: Shit.

  17:55

  Guest: Nope, nope, nope. Bad idea. Damnit!

  Evie was in her room, talking to herself every once in a while, and by the sounds of the last readout, playing Commander & Conqueror again. It wasn't like he'd been expecting her to monologue her entire plan or scheme or whatever, but at least he could breathe a little more easily knowing whatever she was up to in there, it wasn't all that interesting.

  In theory, he could click through to anyone else on board and read everything that had been said in whichever room they were in, going as far back as when they'd left Centuri Station. But unless there was actually something important going on, Lincoln did his best to limit how much he betrayed the privacy of the people he worked with.

  At first, Gwynn had just set the bridge up for him, making it so anything that was said in that one small space would show up on a display beside him. After a few months, once it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, she'd expanded the system to almost every room on board, setting things up so the mic and transcription program activated any time Lincoln entered a room.

  He'd been the one to figure out how to tweak the code so anything being said in any room was being recorded at all times. Just in case. He'd only screwed up once, leaving himself all but deaf for nearly a full day while he had to pretend everything was working perfectly while actually dusting off his lip-reading skills.

  Out of habit as much as of fear of getting c
aught, Lincoln hit the logout button before leaving the galley. They'd be approaching their destination soon and for this part at least, the pilot of the Lexiconis should probably actually be sitting on the bridge.

  The route from where all the food was stored to the bridge was one Lincoln could make in the dark if he had to, not needing his eyes any more than his ears to get him around the ship he'd been working on for three years already. He was a little surprised not to pass anyone else in the corridors, but there was a good chance they hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to the Lexiconis' location and timeline over the past eight days. Oliver in particular tended toward a “we get there when we get there” kind of attitude, something he was constantly fighting against when it came to ensuring that clients got their deliveries when they were supposed to rather than when was easiest.

  It was right as Lincoln passed Evie's room, imagining her inside, hunched over a gamepad while fighting off Martian hordes, that the Lexiconis shuddered. The difference in the ship's stability was subtle, but there was no denying the new vibration that traveled up through Lincoln's body from his feet.

  There was another interface right outside Safa's room, but the bridge would be able to tell him so much more. He moved his feet a little faster. It was probably nothing—Sprocket running some kind of purge on the engine, or some other mechanical nonsense Lincoln didn't understand. But whatever it was, he had never felt it before.

  Unfortunately, that slight vibration was nothing compared to the undeniable lurch he felt before Lincoln had even made it to the stairway that would lead him upstairs. The ship had moved, or been pushed. Only for a moment, but it was enough to force Lincoln into a double step to regain his balance before charging up to the bridge, two steps at a time.