The Second Run: A Sorri Lyrax Delivery (Part Four)
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Writer’s Note: The Second Run: A Sorri Lyrax Delivery (Part Four) was published originally in Jump Point 4.4. You can read Part One here, Part Two here, and Part Three here.
Part 4: Sometimes You Just Lose
[ 18:06:18 ]
Vengeance Valkyrie headed towards the Helios-Tyrol jump point, while Captain Satchel and I stared in quiet desperation at the piles of orange pieces in his lap. He had the sorting virus, which he’d probably gotten from the fruit vendor, which meant I had it too.
Not making the delivery was the least of my worries. We were in mortal danger if we couldn’t protect the ship from ourselves.
“How long ago did you purchase that fruit?” I asked.
He looked like he was visibly trying not to pick up his orange pieces. His jaw pulsed.
“About two hours ago,” he said with considerable effort.
“That means we’ve got about two hours until I start showing signs, maybe less depending if body weight matters,” I said, tapping my fingers against my chin.
Captain Satchel started to reach out towards the controls. I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“That depends on what you’re doing,” I replied. “I watched some guy tip over a vending machine and start ripping out its guts. If you do that, we’re screwed.”
“Setting the quantum to get us to the jump point,” he said.
“Okay, set the course, then I’ll tie you up in the take-off chair,” I said, eyeing his movements carefully.
As he input our destination, he said, “There’s some straps in the back, in the side compartment under the emergency rations.”
I went into the secondary cabin and found some familiar looking black straps. “If we get through this, there’s a Sojourner I met who I think you’d like.”
Satchel finished setting coordinates and moved to the take-off chair. He put the straps around his broad chest and clicked in. I wrapped the rope around his arms, while he watched me with his brown-with-gold-flecked eyes.
“I know this is a serious situation, but I’ve got to say I’m sort of enjoying this part,” he said with a wink.
“Is this the part where I take advantage of you?” I asked, and before he could answer, I leaned down and gave him a deep kiss.
We stared at each other until I broke eye contact. “Never get distracted,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got to figure out what to do before the virus hits me.”
Satchel looked forlorn. He was twitching against his ropes. His fingers were picking at the seat leather. “Do you know how long this will last? If I keep having to notice how much my ship is a disgusting, disorganized mess, not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable aboard again.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “It could be hours or days. But maybe I can set the system to get us to Tyrol IV, so at least we can be moving while we do that.”
He was straining at the ropes. His face was hard with distress. He spoke through gritted teeth.
“That won’t work. You have to set the destination after a jump. That wonky space between throws off the coordinates. And the shield power light is blinking wrong,” he said.
“Wrong?” I turned to look in a panic.
“Wrong. It should be every half second. Its timing’s off. Should be blinking now . . . now . . . now! See! I have to fix it!”
I watched him struggle, realizing that we’d barely gotten him tied down before the virus really hit. Had we waited a few more minutes, he’d be ripping into the ship and I would have had a hard time trying to stop him since he was twice my size.
“Crite,” I said, back at the side panel, “there’s no more rope. Not that it matters. If I’m tied when we hit Tyrol, I won’t be able to reset the ship. But if I don’t tie myself up somehow, I’ll tear apart the ship and we’ll likely die.”
Satchel couldn’t speak. His neck strained like steel cords as he tried to get out of the chair.
I said, “We can’t ask for help from Tangaroa either, since we broke quarantine, and no one will want to touch us.”
I kicked the side panel and put my head in my hands. “Why this time? Why does it always have to be so hard? I struggle and struggle and do everything I can, and now, even if I can find a way to tie myself up, we won’t reach Tyrol IV in time. Which means after all the fees I’ve paid, I’ll be back at day zero at FTL. Everything I’ve done for the last year will have been for nothing. Maybe Betrix was right. My rules are stupid. All they’ve done is convinced me that I could make this happen. Never travel empty handed. Nothing illegal. Official routes are for suckers. Never get distracted! Never stop thinking. Act like you know. We’ll now I’m adding a seventh rule: Sometimes you just lose.”
It ached like there was a solar flare in my chest. It ached because it was true. Sometimes you did just lose. It was a lesson I’d learned playing cards with my father after hours in the bar. Sometimes it didn’t matter how you played them or in what sequence. Sometimes the cards stacked up in a way that left you with no outs.
That’s how I felt. A girl with no outs.
Poor Captain Satchel was frothing at the mouth. That was going to be me soon enough. I grabbed a rag and wiped his cheek. He thanked me with his eyes, though they were ringed with pain.
Since the captain couldn’t speak anymore, I started searching the ship for something I could use as rope. In his cargo bay, I found netting, which I liberated with a slice of a knife. If I rolled it up, it would make do as a way to subdue me. But how does one tie up oneself?
I found the answer in a little metal box with a hook sticking out the end. It had a magnet base and was used for pulling things into the cargo bay.
I took my netting and auto-pulley back into the main cabin. I had planned on tying myself to the foldout bed, but I’d have no leverage with the pulley. I wanted to avoid the captain’s chair, but had no choice since there were no other seats in the ship.
After an hour and a half of modification, I had everything set up and was sitting in the captain’s chair with a long pole in my hand. The netting was loose around my body. I had to be careful that when it tightened that it didn’t strangle me. Once I hit the auto-pulley, I’d have no way to stop it.
I gave the captain a wipe down before I returned to my seat. He looked drained from his efforts. I think a few times he’d gotten cramps from his muscles being so tight, but it was hard to hear the screaming through the clenched teeth.
Before I returned to the chair, I realized something about the captain. His arms were straining as if he were trying to lift a truck, but his legs were almost perfectly still.
While I still had my faculties, I modified my netting to give my right leg some motion and took off my boot and sock. Sitting in the chair, with the netting loose around my body, I leaned back and hit the button on the auto-pulley.
Immediately, the net started to collapse around me. I threw the pole away and carefully arranged my arms so they couldn’t get loose. The strings pulled tight against my body, almost painfully so, and I worried that I’d set it up wrong, that I’d cut off the blood circulation like a tourniquet and would come out of this a quadriplegic. But then the motor stopped humming and the net was tight, but not overly painfully.
I checked the motion of my right leg. I had enough room to reach the controls. Once we hit Tyrol system, I could type in the new destination, assuming the captain was capable of speaking at that time. Or that I was for that matter.
[ 15:13:59 ]
As the minutes ticked by and the sorting virus symptoms I was expecting were nowhere in sight, I worried that I had tied myself up needlessly. Another minute rolled past. I sighed, releasing the tension I had been holding. We were going to be fine.
My hands began to work at the closest knot in the net. If I could maybe just free enough space, then I could reach the release. As I pulled at the nylon strands the distance between the knot I was working on and the next shrank, throwing the net’s grid out alignment. I dropped my knot to try to even out the ones around it, but the imbalance just spread. I was making it worse.
I would have to take the whole net apart and retie the entire thing. It was the only way to ensure it was perfect. Then I could finally focus on putting the rest of the cabin to order and place everything into their proper groups. Why hadn’t we put them in their places before? The world was madness in this state! That anything existed so mixed up and confused threw my thoughts into disarray.
But when I couldn’t get to them — tear into them with my hands, rip them apart and get them back to where they should be, I started to convulse. I’m not sure when the first spasms happened, but when they did I thought I would pass out. Wished I would pass out, since that would give me relief from the pain.
My whole upper body strained and pulled. I pushed at the netting, desiring with every bit of my being to use my hands to destroy the ship. Why was I being denied!
When I couldn’t change the chaos around me, my mind began to focus in on itself. I saw the mess I had made out of my life. All the pieces that didn’t fit. All the things I had done wrong. How my love of adventure had been replaced by a ruthless drive. I turned every decision I ever made over and over, the virus forcing me to dive deeper and deeper into myself.
The next minutes, hours, days? — I couldn’t tell — went on as one rolling ball of misery. At some point, I realized Vengeance Valkyrie had passed into Tyrol space, but I could not find the focus to set the coordinates.
Some time later, I heard someone speaking to me, which was either Captain Satchel, or a hallucination. At other times, I thought I was back at the Golden Horde, or on Dodecahedron with Senet Mehen, or on Night Stalker with Burnett. Hundreds of ship names filled my mind, and I wanted to sort them too.
Eventually, I became aware that Captain Satchel was speaking to me in a hoarse voice.
“Sorri. Sorri. Are you awake?” he asked.
He sounded like he’d been gargling razors.
“Yeah,” I said, though it came out as a whisper. Every muscle in my body ached. I still had the urge to sort, but it wasn’t as strong as before. More like the itch of infection, rather than the madness of insanity.
“We’ve been sitting outside the Tyrol-Helios jump point for about eight hours,” he said.
“Eight hours?” I repeated, and after a quick calculation, I figured there was still time to make it to Tyrol IV. Maybe. “Tell me what the coordinates are and I’ll type them in with my foot.”
[ 07:19:44 ]
After a brief back and forth, Satchel explained what to do, and the ship lurched into motion. We were moving again.
“That’ll get us to Tyrol IV,” he said.
I tried to relax, but I had a painful pressure on my bladder. “I have to pee.”
“Go ahead,” said Satchel.
“Oh. Is that . . . okay?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a little cold now, but better than the alternative. Unless you can get us out of these bindings,” he said.
“I’m not sure that’s wise yet, even if I did know how,” I said. “I’ll just have to add peeing the captain’s chair to the long list of horrible new experiences I’ve had on this run.”
“What’s so important about this delivery?” asked the captain.
“I have no idea. Just that it’s not illegal,” I said.
“Oh yeah, your rules. You talked about them a bit while you were out of it. I liked them. But I don’t mean the case. I mean for you and Betrix?” he asked.
“Betrix,” I said, in a half-laugh.
“You’re not really partners are you?” he asked.
At this point, I didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially after we’d gone through so much.
“No,” I said. “Though I did offer to partner with her. She declined, of course.”
“You still haven’t explained why the delivery is so important,” he said, asking me the same question I had asked Betrix what seemed like ages ago.
“Freedom. See the galaxy. Prove to my father that I can make it on my own,” I said.
“All that from this delivery?” he asked.
“I want to buy a ship. This will get me a little closer,” I said.
“Will it?” he asked, which took me aback.
“Don’t you feel free with your own ship?” I asked.
Captain Satchel was quiet for a bit before he spoke. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade Vengeance Valkyrie for anything, but I still have problems with bills, fuel charges, customs fees, crazy deliveries that tie me up and make me pee myself,” — we shared a laugh — “finding new work, dealing with maintenance. Sometimes, I miss the days when I was just a fresh-faced courier with only the delivery itself to worry about.”
“You were a courier?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I worked for a few different companies. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Deliveries. Though they went belly-up about a decade ago, but I’d gotten my ship by then. Picked up some of the contracts they dropped, which helped me out of the gate.”
“I still want my own ship,” I said softly.
He said, “Just remember that you always trade up for problems, so don’t forget to enjoy the ride while you’re on it.”
“Thanks,” I said, but I didn’t really mean it.
“So are we going to make it?” he asked.
“It’s going to be tight,” I said.
He chuckled. “Well, we can’t let you miss it. I can squeeze some more speed out of this beast if you’re willing to do some fancy footwork.”
My chest filled with hope. “Instruct away!”
It didn’t take long to make Vengeance Valkyrie increase her speed by twenty percent, which would get us to Tyrol IV with an hour to spare. The delivery was at the floating starport, which made getting it to its destination easier.
With another six hours of travel ahead of us, we spent the time talking about our experiences as couriers. Satchel did the majority of the talking, since he was older, but I impressed him with the tales of my first run.
We even figured out a way to get out of the bindings when we arrived at Tyrol IV. I typed in a message to the ship maintenance service on the station, requesting some in-cabin support once we arrived. We knew we’d get funny looks once they came through the airlock and found us tied up and soaking wet, but it was better than being stuck.
The final few hours were excruciating, until we neared enough that I was too busy running the ship with the big toe on my right foot to worry about if I was going to make it or not. Docking was tricky, but Satchel was an excellent instructor and he talked me through the procedure like a pro.
Once the maintenance team arrived and cut us out of the bindings, I was going to grab the case and sprint to the delivery point. I couldn’t believe that I was going to make it.
[ 1:05:21 ]
As the airlock squealed open, I could barely hold myself together. I felt like a sprinter at the beginning of a race, waiting for the starting gun to fire.
I heard Satchel greet the maintenance team. “Hi, fellas. This might look a little weird but . . .” When his voice trailed off to nothing, I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t turn my head enough, but when I saw the yellow reflection on the interior glass I knew what had happened.
A modulated voice came through a bio-suit, “We were notified of Vengeance Valkyrie breaking quarantine at Tangaroa. We will be taking you into custody until the virus has run its course and the ship has been cleaned.”
“No! No! I can’t. I have a delivery to make. It’s right here in the station. It’s that case beneath the take-off chair,” I said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Nothing will leave this ship until it’s been cleaned. We have strict orders,” said the man in the bio-suit. “Please cooperate and you won’t face any additional punishments.”
It was finished. I’d lost. I was at the station, probably a few hundred feet from my goal, and I wouldn’t make it. I could conceive of no way to break this quarantine without risking the UEE’s wrath.
[ 00:00:00 ]
I don’t remember being taken off the ship in a bio-bubble, except that Satchel told me. The station didn’t have a bio-confinement area, so they cleared out a hangar and draped it in plastic. After they confirmed we weren’t carrying the virus any more, I imagine they put the plastic into an incinerator.
At least they’d let us keep our mobiGlas, as long as we promised not to cause trouble. We’d also been given light blue jumpsuits after they put us through an enviro-shower. My skin was still raw from the scrubbing.
Once we’d gotten settled, I contacted the delivery location in hopes that I could still make it, but they said the Banu trader that had been waiting for it had already left. I was to leave the case with them. During the waiting, Satchel contacted some old friends of his in FTL that had risen in the ranks after he left. He cashed in a few favors to get my jobs transferred so I wouldn’t get fired.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him after he told me what he’d done.
“I was rooting for you,” he said. “I really thought we’d get you to your delivery on time.”
“But this has been a huge inconvenience for you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I got paid a tidy sum for the job. And luckily I was able to persuade them that the virus was to blame for us breaking quarantine, so they won’t be pressing charges.”
“Things could be worse,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“I have one question for you, Sorri. What should I do about Betrix?” he asked as he studied me closely.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Betrix is the one that hired me. It’s in the logs. If word got out to FTL that she was doing independent contracts, she’d probably lose her job,” he said.
A chill formed at the back of my neck. With a few simple words, I could remove a thorn from my side, banishing Betrix LaGrange from FTL and probably the courier ranks forever. I’d also be crushing her dreams.
“No,” I said, thinking of what Betrix had told me about why she wanted a ship of her own. “No. We’re rivals, not enemies. I don’t hate her.”
“Even after what she tried to do to you? I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think you deserved your revenge,” he said.
“No. I’m sure. She clearly has some issues, but I don’t want to do that to her,” I said. “Plus, there’s something not right about getting her fired for doing almost the same thing I am.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Fair enough.”
After another day of waiting in the make-shift room, we were cleaned again and allowed to leave with an official warning. I counted myself lucky that was all they’d done.
I collected my things from Vengeance Valkyrie, including the troublesome case. Before I left, Satchel handed me a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it whenever you finally get your first ship,” he said with a wink.
I sighed. “That’s going to be a long time from now.”
“Probably,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it happen sooner than you think. You got really unlucky on this delivery.”
Not one for long goodbyes, I left Satchel at his ship. Plus there was a small chance I might see him again in the near future. He’d promised to give me a deal on rides with him if I needed a ship for a freelance job. I knew it was unlikely, given the size of the galaxy, but it was a nice gesture.
Before I left Tyrol IV, I delivered the silvery case with the Banu symbols. I was awarded a pittance for my efforts, which barely paid for the ride back to Sol so I could deliver Maria Gorane’s divorce papers.
Relieved of my burden, I felt strangely at peace. The accelerated deadline had been a weight around my neck. Now that it was over, I felt a little weightless.
I picked up a few FTL jobs on the way back. I’d practically zeroed out my balance trying to get to Tyrol, so it was nice to be working in the positive direction again.
Sitting on a commercial transport heading through the Kilian system on my way to Davien jump point, I pressed my nose against the cool viewport. The brilliant swath of stars outside made me feel like I was looking at them for the first time again.
As I watched the tiny sun at the center of the system grow in the distance, I relived the journey of the past few days in my mind and the harsh truths I had seen while consumed by the sorting virus. The words of the Banu on Vita Perry came back to me: Journey within yourself and you will reach your destination.
I didn’t understand what the Banu had meant then, but after the crazy delivery I had a little more understanding. As Satchel had said, you always trade up for problems. I was so busy trying to earn enough credits for my Aurora LX, that I’d forgotten why I’d become a courier in the first place — to see the galaxy.
If I kept going down that path, I’d end up like Senet Mehen, so focused on my goals that I missed the whole reason I was making the journey.
By the time I reached the Sol system, I’d become at peace with the setback. In retrospect, it had been an amazing, if harrowing, experience that was in some ways worth the lost credits.
Sometimes you just lose. That was the way of the Universe. But I wouldn’t let it hold me back. Despite the final verdict, I’d proved a lot to myself.
The delivery of the Gorane divorce papers in Sol was a little bittersweet. It wrapped up the journey. Once it was over, I pulled up my mobiGlas and toggled my availability into the ‘On’ position. I had a lot of credits to make up.
It wasn’t until a few months later after the botched Tyrol IV delivery that things finally and truly wrapped up. I had just landed on Ferron when I received a message from Alara Bonaire.
At first the name confused me until I realized it was the former wife of Abel Gorane, the cretin businessman I’d rescued her from.
Greetings Sorri,
I dearly hope things are well for you. I can never truly repay you for what you did. Had Abel gotten Maria into the ship, I would have never seen her again.
My life before divorce was very complicated, so I’m glad to be rid of my husband. I’m trying to simplify, which in turn, made me think of you and your generosity. I’ve decided to bequeath you Abel’s old ship Black Queen. He said he named it after me, but I hope she treats you better than he ever treated me. She’s pretty worn down, but can still tread the deep skies. You’ll find the entry codes at the bottom of this message, along with the hangar number. Be well and good luck.
Warmest regards,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. The whole way I was certain that it was a dream and that I would wake up, covered in a cold sweat.
But then it was there, the hangar. It was a sealed bay, so I went through the airlock. Sitting at number fifteen was an early model Aurora ES. It had heavy burn marks on the nose, pitting along the sides, and the color was faded.
It wasn’t a ship, but a flying ball of fixer’s tape. But if the letter I’d just received was true, then it was mine.
I let out a whoop and went running for Black Queen. There were a few workers in red jumpsuits doing maintenance on a Caterpillar on the other side of the hangar. They glanced up at my sprint across the hard flooring. I heard a few chuckles when I hugged the nose section.
My fingers trembled as I punched in the access codes. When the door whooshed open, I could barely stand still.
The inside was a wreck. There was barely enough room to stand. The pilot’s chair was bare metal. Some of the controls were chipped and the guts of something important were hanging from the ceiling.
I touched each and every surface of Black Queen, inside and out, trying to prove to myself that it was real. I mean, getting it flight worthy was going to take some serious credits, but nothing like what a new ship would cost. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to send a message to my father and tell him that I finally had my own ship. He wouldn’t believe it.
But then I remembered the note that Captain Satchel had left me. I went running back outside to grab my knapsack. The letter was jammed into the bottom, the corner practically ripped off.
The paper inside was thick. You could see the chunks from when it was made. It was a glimpse into the soul of Captain Satchel. He’d written my name on the front using an antique pen. I could tell by the way the thickness of the letters changed with the stroke.
I was about to read the letter when I decided the proper location was in the captain’s chair. My first note, captain to captain.
I flipped it open, admiring the way the paper scraped against itself. Then I read his message out loud, into the sanctity of my own ship: Black Queen.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Congratulations! I hope this day is sooner rather than later but either way it’s here. Just remember that before you can claim this ship as yours, you must christen it in the only way you know how.
Your friend,
Satchel
I didn’t catch his meaning until I remembered what had happened on Vengeance Valkyrie when we’d had the sorting virus and were trapped in our chairs. I laughed for a full minute before I tucked the folded note into a crack between the instrument panels.
It struck me again what it would take to get Black Queen into flying shape. Thankfully I’d been working hard the last few months and had almost enough to pay for the repairs. Soon enough I’d be able to take the jobs I wanted, since I wouldn’t be tied to ship schedules and predetermined courier routes.
A stab of regret hit me in the gut as I thought about it. While I’d be in my own ship, I’d no longer be traveling through the populated star ports and floating stations. Instead, I’d be locked in a steel can, just like Senet Mehen. I mean, wasn’t that the reason that I’d become a courier in the first place? To meet people?
Suddenly, Black Queen seemed like a lonely place. What the heck was I thinking? This is what I had worked so hard for and now I was full of doubt?
I sat for a half hour considering my options before I finally came up with a solution that solved a couple of problems at once. A quick tap on my mobi brought up the message link.
Dear Betrix, I started typing, I realize this offer might seem rather strange, but I have my own ship now. Certain aspects of the operation would run smoother with a second person. Are you interested in being my First Mate?
The End
Part 4: Sometimes You Just Lose
[ 18:06:18 ]
Vengeance Valkyrie headed towards the Helios-Tyrol jump point, while Captain Satchel and I stared in quiet desperation at the piles of orange pieces in his lap. He had the sorting virus, which he’d probably gotten from the fruit vendor, which meant I had it too.
Not making the delivery was the least of my worries. We were in mortal danger if we couldn’t protect the ship from ourselves.
“How long ago did you purchase that fruit?” I asked.
He looked like he was visibly trying not to pick up his orange pieces. His jaw pulsed.
“About two hours ago,” he said with considerable effort.
“That means we’ve got about two hours until I start showing signs, maybe less depending if body weight matters,” I said, tapping my fingers against my chin.
Captain Satchel started to reach out towards the controls. I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“That depends on what you’re doing,” I replied. “I watched some guy tip over a vending machine and start ripping out its guts. If you do that, we’re screwed.”
“Setting the quantum to get us to the jump point,” he said.
“Okay, set the course, then I’ll tie you up in the take-off chair,” I said, eyeing his movements carefully.
As he input our destination, he said, “There’s some straps in the back, in the side compartment under the emergency rations.”
I went into the secondary cabin and found some familiar looking black straps. “If we get through this, there’s a Sojourner I met who I think you’d like.”
Satchel finished setting coordinates and moved to the take-off chair. He put the straps around his broad chest and clicked in. I wrapped the rope around his arms, while he watched me with his brown-with-gold-flecked eyes.
“I know this is a serious situation, but I’ve got to say I’m sort of enjoying this part,” he said with a wink.
“Is this the part where I take advantage of you?” I asked, and before he could answer, I leaned down and gave him a deep kiss.
We stared at each other until I broke eye contact. “Never get distracted,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got to figure out what to do before the virus hits me.”
Satchel looked forlorn. He was twitching against his ropes. His fingers were picking at the seat leather. “Do you know how long this will last? If I keep having to notice how much my ship is a disgusting, disorganized mess, not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable aboard again.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “It could be hours or days. But maybe I can set the system to get us to Tyrol IV, so at least we can be moving while we do that.”
He was straining at the ropes. His face was hard with distress. He spoke through gritted teeth.
“That won’t work. You have to set the destination after a jump. That wonky space between throws off the coordinates. And the shield power light is blinking wrong,” he said.
“Wrong?” I turned to look in a panic.
“Wrong. It should be every half second. Its timing’s off. Should be blinking now . . . now . . . now! See! I have to fix it!”
I watched him struggle, realizing that we’d barely gotten him tied down before the virus really hit. Had we waited a few more minutes, he’d be ripping into the ship and I would have had a hard time trying to stop him since he was twice my size.
“Crite,” I said, back at the side panel, “there’s no more rope. Not that it matters. If I’m tied when we hit Tyrol, I won’t be able to reset the ship. But if I don’t tie myself up somehow, I’ll tear apart the ship and we’ll likely die.”
Satchel couldn’t speak. His neck strained like steel cords as he tried to get out of the chair.
I said, “We can’t ask for help from Tangaroa either, since we broke quarantine, and no one will want to touch us.”
I kicked the side panel and put my head in my hands. “Why this time? Why does it always have to be so hard? I struggle and struggle and do everything I can, and now, even if I can find a way to tie myself up, we won’t reach Tyrol IV in time. Which means after all the fees I’ve paid, I’ll be back at day zero at FTL. Everything I’ve done for the last year will have been for nothing. Maybe Betrix was right. My rules are stupid. All they’ve done is convinced me that I could make this happen. Never travel empty handed. Nothing illegal. Official routes are for suckers. Never get distracted! Never stop thinking. Act like you know. We’ll now I’m adding a seventh rule: Sometimes you just lose.”
It ached like there was a solar flare in my chest. It ached because it was true. Sometimes you did just lose. It was a lesson I’d learned playing cards with my father after hours in the bar. Sometimes it didn’t matter how you played them or in what sequence. Sometimes the cards stacked up in a way that left you with no outs.
That’s how I felt. A girl with no outs.
Poor Captain Satchel was frothing at the mouth. That was going to be me soon enough. I grabbed a rag and wiped his cheek. He thanked me with his eyes, though they were ringed with pain.
Since the captain couldn’t speak anymore, I started searching the ship for something I could use as rope. In his cargo bay, I found netting, which I liberated with a slice of a knife. If I rolled it up, it would make do as a way to subdue me. But how does one tie up oneself?
I found the answer in a little metal box with a hook sticking out the end. It had a magnet base and was used for pulling things into the cargo bay.
I took my netting and auto-pulley back into the main cabin. I had planned on tying myself to the foldout bed, but I’d have no leverage with the pulley. I wanted to avoid the captain’s chair, but had no choice since there were no other seats in the ship.
After an hour and a half of modification, I had everything set up and was sitting in the captain’s chair with a long pole in my hand. The netting was loose around my body. I had to be careful that when it tightened that it didn’t strangle me. Once I hit the auto-pulley, I’d have no way to stop it.
I gave the captain a wipe down before I returned to my seat. He looked drained from his efforts. I think a few times he’d gotten cramps from his muscles being so tight, but it was hard to hear the screaming through the clenched teeth.
Before I returned to the chair, I realized something about the captain. His arms were straining as if he were trying to lift a truck, but his legs were almost perfectly still.
While I still had my faculties, I modified my netting to give my right leg some motion and took off my boot and sock. Sitting in the chair, with the netting loose around my body, I leaned back and hit the button on the auto-pulley.
Immediately, the net started to collapse around me. I threw the pole away and carefully arranged my arms so they couldn’t get loose. The strings pulled tight against my body, almost painfully so, and I worried that I’d set it up wrong, that I’d cut off the blood circulation like a tourniquet and would come out of this a quadriplegic. But then the motor stopped humming and the net was tight, but not overly painfully.
I checked the motion of my right leg. I had enough room to reach the controls. Once we hit Tyrol system, I could type in the new destination, assuming the captain was capable of speaking at that time. Or that I was for that matter.
[ 15:13:59 ]
As the minutes ticked by and the sorting virus symptoms I was expecting were nowhere in sight, I worried that I had tied myself up needlessly. Another minute rolled past. I sighed, releasing the tension I had been holding. We were going to be fine.
My hands began to work at the closest knot in the net. If I could maybe just free enough space, then I could reach the release. As I pulled at the nylon strands the distance between the knot I was working on and the next shrank, throwing the net’s grid out alignment. I dropped my knot to try to even out the ones around it, but the imbalance just spread. I was making it worse.
I would have to take the whole net apart and retie the entire thing. It was the only way to ensure it was perfect. Then I could finally focus on putting the rest of the cabin to order and place everything into their proper groups. Why hadn’t we put them in their places before? The world was madness in this state! That anything existed so mixed up and confused threw my thoughts into disarray.
But when I couldn’t get to them — tear into them with my hands, rip them apart and get them back to where they should be, I started to convulse. I’m not sure when the first spasms happened, but when they did I thought I would pass out. Wished I would pass out, since that would give me relief from the pain.
My whole upper body strained and pulled. I pushed at the netting, desiring with every bit of my being to use my hands to destroy the ship. Why was I being denied!
When I couldn’t change the chaos around me, my mind began to focus in on itself. I saw the mess I had made out of my life. All the pieces that didn’t fit. All the things I had done wrong. How my love of adventure had been replaced by a ruthless drive. I turned every decision I ever made over and over, the virus forcing me to dive deeper and deeper into myself.
The next minutes, hours, days? — I couldn’t tell — went on as one rolling ball of misery. At some point, I realized Vengeance Valkyrie had passed into Tyrol space, but I could not find the focus to set the coordinates.
Some time later, I heard someone speaking to me, which was either Captain Satchel, or a hallucination. At other times, I thought I was back at the Golden Horde, or on Dodecahedron with Senet Mehen, or on Night Stalker with Burnett. Hundreds of ship names filled my mind, and I wanted to sort them too.
Eventually, I became aware that Captain Satchel was speaking to me in a hoarse voice.
“Sorri. Sorri. Are you awake?” he asked.
He sounded like he’d been gargling razors.
“Yeah,” I said, though it came out as a whisper. Every muscle in my body ached. I still had the urge to sort, but it wasn’t as strong as before. More like the itch of infection, rather than the madness of insanity.
“We’ve been sitting outside the Tyrol-Helios jump point for about eight hours,” he said.
“Eight hours?” I repeated, and after a quick calculation, I figured there was still time to make it to Tyrol IV. Maybe. “Tell me what the coordinates are and I’ll type them in with my foot.”
[ 07:19:44 ]
After a brief back and forth, Satchel explained what to do, and the ship lurched into motion. We were moving again.
“That’ll get us to Tyrol IV,” he said.
I tried to relax, but I had a painful pressure on my bladder. “I have to pee.”
“Go ahead,” said Satchel.
“Oh. Is that . . . okay?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a little cold now, but better than the alternative. Unless you can get us out of these bindings,” he said.
“I’m not sure that’s wise yet, even if I did know how,” I said. “I’ll just have to add peeing the captain’s chair to the long list of horrible new experiences I’ve had on this run.”
“What’s so important about this delivery?” asked the captain.
“I have no idea. Just that it’s not illegal,” I said.
“Oh yeah, your rules. You talked about them a bit while you were out of it. I liked them. But I don’t mean the case. I mean for you and Betrix?” he asked.
“Betrix,” I said, in a half-laugh.
“You’re not really partners are you?” he asked.
At this point, I didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially after we’d gone through so much.
“No,” I said. “Though I did offer to partner with her. She declined, of course.”
“You still haven’t explained why the delivery is so important,” he said, asking me the same question I had asked Betrix what seemed like ages ago.
“Freedom. See the galaxy. Prove to my father that I can make it on my own,” I said.
“All that from this delivery?” he asked.
“I want to buy a ship. This will get me a little closer,” I said.
“Will it?” he asked, which took me aback.
“Don’t you feel free with your own ship?” I asked.
Captain Satchel was quiet for a bit before he spoke. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade Vengeance Valkyrie for anything, but I still have problems with bills, fuel charges, customs fees, crazy deliveries that tie me up and make me pee myself,” — we shared a laugh — “finding new work, dealing with maintenance. Sometimes, I miss the days when I was just a fresh-faced courier with only the delivery itself to worry about.”
“You were a courier?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I worked for a few different companies. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Deliveries. Though they went belly-up about a decade ago, but I’d gotten my ship by then. Picked up some of the contracts they dropped, which helped me out of the gate.”
“I still want my own ship,” I said softly.
He said, “Just remember that you always trade up for problems, so don’t forget to enjoy the ride while you’re on it.”
“Thanks,” I said, but I didn’t really mean it.
“So are we going to make it?” he asked.
“It’s going to be tight,” I said.
He chuckled. “Well, we can’t let you miss it. I can squeeze some more speed out of this beast if you’re willing to do some fancy footwork.”
My chest filled with hope. “Instruct away!”
It didn’t take long to make Vengeance Valkyrie increase her speed by twenty percent, which would get us to Tyrol IV with an hour to spare. The delivery was at the floating starport, which made getting it to its destination easier.
With another six hours of travel ahead of us, we spent the time talking about our experiences as couriers. Satchel did the majority of the talking, since he was older, but I impressed him with the tales of my first run.
We even figured out a way to get out of the bindings when we arrived at Tyrol IV. I typed in a message to the ship maintenance service on the station, requesting some in-cabin support once we arrived. We knew we’d get funny looks once they came through the airlock and found us tied up and soaking wet, but it was better than being stuck.
The final few hours were excruciating, until we neared enough that I was too busy running the ship with the big toe on my right foot to worry about if I was going to make it or not. Docking was tricky, but Satchel was an excellent instructor and he talked me through the procedure like a pro.
Once the maintenance team arrived and cut us out of the bindings, I was going to grab the case and sprint to the delivery point. I couldn’t believe that I was going to make it.
[ 1:05:21 ]
As the airlock squealed open, I could barely hold myself together. I felt like a sprinter at the beginning of a race, waiting for the starting gun to fire.
I heard Satchel greet the maintenance team. “Hi, fellas. This might look a little weird but . . .” When his voice trailed off to nothing, I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t turn my head enough, but when I saw the yellow reflection on the interior glass I knew what had happened.
A modulated voice came through a bio-suit, “We were notified of Vengeance Valkyrie breaking quarantine at Tangaroa. We will be taking you into custody until the virus has run its course and the ship has been cleaned.”
“No! No! I can’t. I have a delivery to make. It’s right here in the station. It’s that case beneath the take-off chair,” I said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Nothing will leave this ship until it’s been cleaned. We have strict orders,” said the man in the bio-suit. “Please cooperate and you won’t face any additional punishments.”
It was finished. I’d lost. I was at the station, probably a few hundred feet from my goal, and I wouldn’t make it. I could conceive of no way to break this quarantine without risking the UEE’s wrath.
[ 00:00:00 ]
I don’t remember being taken off the ship in a bio-bubble, except that Satchel told me. The station didn’t have a bio-confinement area, so they cleared out a hangar and draped it in plastic. After they confirmed we weren’t carrying the virus any more, I imagine they put the plastic into an incinerator.
At least they’d let us keep our mobiGlas, as long as we promised not to cause trouble. We’d also been given light blue jumpsuits after they put us through an enviro-shower. My skin was still raw from the scrubbing.
Once we’d gotten settled, I contacted the delivery location in hopes that I could still make it, but they said the Banu trader that had been waiting for it had already left. I was to leave the case with them. During the waiting, Satchel contacted some old friends of his in FTL that had risen in the ranks after he left. He cashed in a few favors to get my jobs transferred so I wouldn’t get fired.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him after he told me what he’d done.
“I was rooting for you,” he said. “I really thought we’d get you to your delivery on time.”
“But this has been a huge inconvenience for you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I got paid a tidy sum for the job. And luckily I was able to persuade them that the virus was to blame for us breaking quarantine, so they won’t be pressing charges.”
“Things could be worse,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“I have one question for you, Sorri. What should I do about Betrix?” he asked as he studied me closely.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Betrix is the one that hired me. It’s in the logs. If word got out to FTL that she was doing independent contracts, she’d probably lose her job,” he said.
A chill formed at the back of my neck. With a few simple words, I could remove a thorn from my side, banishing Betrix LaGrange from FTL and probably the courier ranks forever. I’d also be crushing her dreams.
“No,” I said, thinking of what Betrix had told me about why she wanted a ship of her own. “No. We’re rivals, not enemies. I don’t hate her.”
“Even after what she tried to do to you? I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think you deserved your revenge,” he said.
“No. I’m sure. She clearly has some issues, but I don’t want to do that to her,” I said. “Plus, there’s something not right about getting her fired for doing almost the same thing I am.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Fair enough.”
After another day of waiting in the make-shift room, we were cleaned again and allowed to leave with an official warning. I counted myself lucky that was all they’d done.
I collected my things from Vengeance Valkyrie, including the troublesome case. Before I left, Satchel handed me a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it whenever you finally get your first ship,” he said with a wink.
I sighed. “That’s going to be a long time from now.”
“Probably,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it happen sooner than you think. You got really unlucky on this delivery.”
Not one for long goodbyes, I left Satchel at his ship. Plus there was a small chance I might see him again in the near future. He’d promised to give me a deal on rides with him if I needed a ship for a freelance job. I knew it was unlikely, given the size of the galaxy, but it was a nice gesture.
Before I left Tyrol IV, I delivered the silvery case with the Banu symbols. I was awarded a pittance for my efforts, which barely paid for the ride back to Sol so I could deliver Maria Gorane’s divorce papers.
Relieved of my burden, I felt strangely at peace. The accelerated deadline had been a weight around my neck. Now that it was over, I felt a little weightless.
I picked up a few FTL jobs on the way back. I’d practically zeroed out my balance trying to get to Tyrol, so it was nice to be working in the positive direction again.
Sitting on a commercial transport heading through the Kilian system on my way to Davien jump point, I pressed my nose against the cool viewport. The brilliant swath of stars outside made me feel like I was looking at them for the first time again.
As I watched the tiny sun at the center of the system grow in the distance, I relived the journey of the past few days in my mind and the harsh truths I had seen while consumed by the sorting virus. The words of the Banu on Vita Perry came back to me: Journey within yourself and you will reach your destination.
I didn’t understand what the Banu had meant then, but after the crazy delivery I had a little more understanding. As Satchel had said, you always trade up for problems. I was so busy trying to earn enough credits for my Aurora LX, that I’d forgotten why I’d become a courier in the first place — to see the galaxy.
If I kept going down that path, I’d end up like Senet Mehen, so focused on my goals that I missed the whole reason I was making the journey.
By the time I reached the Sol system, I’d become at peace with the setback. In retrospect, it had been an amazing, if harrowing, experience that was in some ways worth the lost credits.
Sometimes you just lose. That was the way of the Universe. But I wouldn’t let it hold me back. Despite the final verdict, I’d proved a lot to myself.
The delivery of the Gorane divorce papers in Sol was a little bittersweet. It wrapped up the journey. Once it was over, I pulled up my mobiGlas and toggled my availability into the ‘On’ position. I had a lot of credits to make up.
It wasn’t until a few months later after the botched Tyrol IV delivery that things finally and truly wrapped up. I had just landed on Ferron when I received a message from Alara Bonaire.
At first the name confused me until I realized it was the former wife of Abel Gorane, the cretin businessman I’d rescued her from.
Greetings Sorri,
I dearly hope things are well for you. I can never truly repay you for what you did. Had Abel gotten Maria into the ship, I would have never seen her again.
My life before divorce was very complicated, so I’m glad to be rid of my husband. I’m trying to simplify, which in turn, made me think of you and your generosity. I’ve decided to bequeath you Abel’s old ship Black Queen. He said he named it after me, but I hope she treats you better than he ever treated me. She’s pretty worn down, but can still tread the deep skies. You’ll find the entry codes at the bottom of this message, along with the hangar number. Be well and good luck.
Warmest regards,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. The whole way I was certain that it was a dream and that I would wake up, covered in a cold sweat.
But then it was there, the hangar. It was a sealed bay, so I went through the airlock. Sitting at number fifteen was an early model Aurora ES. It had heavy burn marks on the nose, pitting along the sides, and the color was faded.
It wasn’t a ship, but a flying ball of fixer’s tape. But if the letter I’d just received was true, then it was mine.
I let out a whoop and went running for Black Queen. There were a few workers in red jumpsuits doing maintenance on a Caterpillar on the other side of the hangar. They glanced up at my sprint across the hard flooring. I heard a few chuckles when I hugged the nose section.
My fingers trembled as I punched in the access codes. When the door whooshed open, I could barely stand still.
The inside was a wreck. There was barely enough room to stand. The pilot’s chair was bare metal. Some of the controls were chipped and the guts of something important were hanging from the ceiling.
I touched each and every surface of Black Queen, inside and out, trying to prove to myself that it was real. I mean, getting it flight worthy was going to take some serious credits, but nothing like what a new ship would cost. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to send a message to my father and tell him that I finally had my own ship. He wouldn’t believe it.
But then I remembered the note that Captain Satchel had left me. I went running back outside to grab my knapsack. The letter was jammed into the bottom, the corner practically ripped off.
The paper inside was thick. You could see the chunks from when it was made. It was a glimpse into the soul of Captain Satchel. He’d written my name on the front using an antique pen. I could tell by the way the thickness of the letters changed with the stroke.
I was about to read the letter when I decided the proper location was in the captain’s chair. My first note, captain to captain.
I flipped it open, admiring the way the paper scraped against itself. Then I read his message out loud, into the sanctity of my own ship: Black Queen.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Congratulations! I hope this day is sooner rather than later but either way it’s here. Just remember that before you can claim this ship as yours, you must christen it in the only way you know how.
Your friend,
Satchel
I didn’t catch his meaning until I remembered what had happened on Vengeance Valkyrie when we’d had the sorting virus and were trapped in our chairs. I laughed for a full minute before I tucked the folded note into a crack between the instrument panels.
It struck me again what it would take to get Black Queen into flying shape. Thankfully I’d been working hard the last few months and had almost enough to pay for the repairs. Soon enough I’d be able to take the jobs I wanted, since I wouldn’t be tied to ship schedules and predetermined courier routes.
A stab of regret hit me in the gut as I thought about it. While I’d be in my own ship, I’d no longer be traveling through the populated star ports and floating stations. Instead, I’d be locked in a steel can, just like Senet Mehen. I mean, wasn’t that the reason that I’d become a courier in the first place? To meet people?
Suddenly, Black Queen seemed like a lonely place. What the heck was I thinking? This is what I had worked so hard for and now I was full of doubt?
I sat for a half hour considering my options before I finally came up with a solution that solved a couple of problems at once. A quick tap on my mobi brought up the message link.
Dear Betrix, I started typing, I realize this offer might seem rather strange, but I have my own ship now. Certain aspects of the operation would run smoother with a second person. Are you interested in being my First Mate?
The End
German
Anmerkung des Autors: Der zweite Lauf: Eine Sorri-Lyrax-Lieferung (Teil vier) wurde ursprünglich in Jump Point 4.4 veröffentlicht. Sie können den ersten Teil hier, den zweiten Teil hier und den dritten Teil hier lesen.
Teil 4: Manchmal verlierst du einfach
[ 18:06:18 ]
Die Rache Walküre steuerte auf den Helios-Tirol Absprungpunkt zu, während Captain Satchel und ich in stiller Verzweiflung auf die orangefarbenen Schrotthaufen in seinem Schoß starrten. Er hatte den Sortiervirus, den er wahrscheinlich vom Obsthändler bekommen hatte, was bedeutete, dass ich ihn auch hatte.
Die Lieferung nicht zu machen, war meine geringste Sorge. Wir waren in Lebensgefahr, wenn wir das Schiff nicht vor uns selbst schützen konnten.
"Wie lange ist es her, dass Sie diese Frucht gekauft haben?" Ich habe gefragt.
Er sah aus, als ob er sichtlich versuchte, seine orangefarbenen Stücke nicht aufzuheben. Sein Kiefer hat gepulst.
"Vor etwa zwei Stunden", sagte er mit beträchtlicher Anstrengung.
"Das bedeutet, dass wir etwa zwei Stunden haben, bis ich anfange, Anzeichen zu zeigen, vielleicht weniger abhängig davon, ob das Körpergewicht eine Rolle spielt", sagte ich und klopfte mit den Fingern gegen mein Kinn.
Captain Satchel fing an, nach den Kontrollen zu greifen. Ich habe seinen Arm gepackt.
"Was machst du da?", fragte er.
"Das hängt davon ab, was du tust", antwortete ich. "Ich sah, wie ein Typ einen Automaten umkippte und anfing, ihm die Eingeweide rauszureißen. Wenn du das tust, sind wir am Arsch."
"Die Einstellung des Quantums, um uns zum Sprungpunkt zu bringen", sagte er.
"Okay, stell den Kurs ein, dann fessle ich dich im Startstuhl", sagte ich und beobachtete seine Bewegungen genau.
Bei der Eingabe unseres Zieles sagte er: "Hinten im Seitenfach unter der Notration sind ein paar Gurte."
Ich ging in die zweite Kabine und fand einige vertraut aussehende schwarze Riemen. "Wenn wir das durchstehen, gibt es einen Sojourner, den ich kennen gelernt habe, der dir gefallen würde."
Satchel beendete die Einstellung der Koordinaten und bewegte sich zum Abflugstuhl. Er legte die Gurte um seine breite Brust und klickte ein. Ich wickelte das Seil um seine Arme, während er mich mit seinen braun-mit-Goldflecken versehenen Augen beobachtete.
"Ich weiß, das ist eine ernste Situation, aber ich muss sagen, dass ich diesen Teil irgendwie genieße", sagte er mit einem Augenzwinkern.
"Ist das der Teil, wo ich dich ausnutze?" fragte ich, und bevor er antworten konnte, beugte ich mich vor und gab ihm einen tiefen Kuss.
Wir starrten uns an, bis ich den Blickkontakt abbrach. "Lass dich nie ablenken", sagte ich und schüttelte den Kopf. "Ich muss herausfinden, was zu tun ist, bevor der Virus mich trifft."
Satchel sah verloren aus. Er zuckte gegen seine Seile. Seine Finger zupften am Sitzleder. "Weißt du, wie lange das noch dauern wird? Wenn ich immer wieder feststellen muss, wie sehr mein Schiff ein ekelhaftes, unorganisiertes Chaos ist, bin ich nicht sicher, ob ich mich jemals wieder an Bord wohlfühlen werde."
"Ich habe keine Ahnung", sagte ich. "Es könnten Stunden oder Tage sein. Aber vielleicht kann ich das System so einstellen, dass es uns nach Tirol IV bringt, damit wir zumindest während der Fahrt weiterfahren können."
Er hat sich in den Seilen gezerrt. Sein Gesicht war hart vor Kummer. Er sprach mit bissigen Zähnen.
"Das wird nicht funktionieren. Nach einem Sprung müssen Sie das Ziel festlegen. Der wackelige Abstand zwischen den beiden wirft die Koordinaten durcheinander. Und das Schildpower-Licht blinkt falsch", sagte er.
"Falsch?" Ich drehte mich um, um in Panik zu schauen.
"Falsch". Es sollte jede halbe Sekunde sein. Der Zeitpunkt ist schlecht gewählt. Sollte jetzt blinken . . . . jetzt . . . jetzt! Siehst du! Ich muss es reparieren!"
Ich sah zu, wie er sich wehrte und merkte, dass wir ihn kaum gefesselt hatten, bevor der Virus wirklich zuschlug. Hätten wir noch ein paar Minuten gewartet, wäre er in das Schiff gerast und ich hätte es schwer gehabt, ihn aufzuhalten, da er doppelt so groß war wie ich.
"Crite", sagte ich, hinten an der Seitenwand, "es gibt kein Seil mehr. Nicht, dass es wichtig wäre. Wenn ich gefesselt bin, wenn wir Tyrol treffen, kann ich das Schiff nicht zurücksetzen. Aber wenn ich mich nicht irgendwie fessle, zerreiße ich das Schiff und wir werden wahrscheinlich sterben."
Satchel konnte nicht sprechen. Sein Nacken verkrampfte sich wie Stahlseile, als er versuchte, aus dem Stuhl zu kommen.
Ich sagte: "Wir können auch nicht um Hilfe von Tangaroa bitten, da wir die Quarantäne gebrochen haben und niemand wird uns anfassen wollen."
Ich trat gegen die Seitenwand und legte meinen Kopf in die Hände. "Warum dieses Mal? Warum muss es immer so schwer sein? Ich kämpfe und kämpfe und tue alles, was ich kann, und jetzt, selbst wenn ich einen Weg finde, mich zu fesseln, werden wir Tirol IV nicht rechtzeitig erreichen. Was bedeutet, nach all den Gebühren, die ich bezahlt habe, werde ich am Tag Null bei FTL zurück sein. Alles, was ich im letzten Jahr getan habe, wird umsonst gewesen sein. Vielleicht hatte Betrix Recht. Meine Regeln sind blöd. Sie haben mich nur davon überzeugt, dass ich das schaffen kann. Niemals mit leeren Händen reisen. Nichts Illegales. Offizielle Routen sind für Trottel. Lassen Sie sich nicht ablenken! Hören Sie nie auf zu denken. Tu so, als wüsstest du es. Wir fügen jetzt eine siebte Regel hinzu: Manchmal verliert man einfach."
Es schmerzte, als hätte ich eine Sonneneruption in der Brust. Es schmerzte, weil es wahr war. Manchmal hast du einfach verloren. Es war eine Lektion, die ich beim Kartenspielen mit meinem Vater nach den Stunden in der Bar gelernt hatte. Manchmal war es egal, wie man sie spielte oder in welcher Reihenfolge. Manchmal haben sich die Karten so gestapelt, dass es keine Outs gibt.
So habe ich mich auch gefühlt. Ein Mädchen ohne Ausreden.
Der arme Kapitän Satchel hatte Schaum vor dem Mund. Das hätte ich schon bald sein können. Ich schnappte mir einen Lappen und wischte ihm die Wange ab. Er bedankte sich mit seinen Augen, obwohl sie von Schmerz beringt waren.
Da der Kapitän nicht mehr sprechen konnte, fing ich an, das Schiff nach etwas zu durchsuchen, das ich als Seil benutzen konnte. In seinem Laderaum fand ich ein Netz, das ich mit einer Messerscheibe befreite. Wenn ich es zusammenrollen würde, würde es reichen, um mich zu überwältigen. Aber wie fesselt man sich selbst?
Ich fand die Antwort in einer kleinen Metallbox mit einem Haken, der am Ende herausragt. Er hatte einen Magnetfuß und wurde zum Einziehen von Gegenständen in den Laderaum verwendet.
Ich nahm mein Netz und die automatische Seilrolle mit in die Hauptkabine. Ich hatte geplant, mich an das ausklappbare Bett zu fesseln, aber mit dem Flaschenzug hätte ich keinen Einfluss. Ich wollte dem Kapitänsstuhl ausweichen, hatte aber keine Wahl, da es keine anderen Plätze im Schiff gab.
Nach anderthalb Stunden Umbau hatte ich alles aufgebaut und saß auf dem Kapitänsstuhl mit einer langen Stange in der Hand. Das Netz war locker um meinen Körper. Ich musste aufpassen, dass es mich beim Anziehen nicht erwürgt. Sobald ich die automatische Seilscheibe getroffen habe, kann ich es nicht mehr aufhalten.
Ich wischte dem Captain die Nase ab, bevor ich zu meinem Platz zurückkehrte. Er wirkte wie ausgelaugt von seinen Bemühungen. Ich glaube, er hatte ein paar Mal Krämpfe bekommen, weil seine Muskeln so angespannt waren, aber es war schwer, das Schreien durch die zusammengebissenen Zähne zu hören.
Bevor ich auf den Stuhl zurückkam, wurde mir etwas über den Captain klar. Seine Arme verkrampften sich, als wollte er einen Lastwagen anheben, aber seine Beine waren fast vollkommen ruhig.
Während ich noch meine Fähigkeiten hatte, modifizierte ich mein Netz, um meinem rechten Bein etwas Bewegung zu geben und zog meinen Stiefel und Socken aus. Im Stuhl sitzend, das Netz um meinen Körper locker, lehnte ich mich zurück und drückte den Knopf am Auto-Pulley.
Sofort begann das Netz um mich herum zusammenzubrechen. Ich warf die Stange weg und ordnete meine Arme sorgfältig so an, dass sie sich nicht lösen konnten. Die Fäden zogen sich an meinem Körper fest, fast schmerzhaft, und ich hatte Angst, dass ich es falsch aufbaute, dass ich die Blutzirkulation wie einen Druckverband abschneide und als Tetraplegiker herauskommen würde. Aber dann hörte der Motor auf zu brummen und das Netz war zwar eng, aber nicht übermäßig schmerzhaft.
Ich habe die Bewegung meines rechten Beines überprüft. Ich hatte genug Platz, um die Steuerung zu erreichen. Sobald wir auf das Tyrol-System trafen, konnte ich das neue Ziel eingeben, vorausgesetzt, der Kapitän war zu diesem Zeitpunkt in der Lage zu sprechen. Oder dass ich es war.
[ 15:13:59 ]
Als die Minuten verstrichen und die zu erwartenden Sortier-Virussymptome nirgends in Sicht waren, machte ich mir Sorgen, dass ich mich unnötig gefesselt hatte. Eine weitere Minute rollte vorbei. Ich seufzte und löste die Spannung, die ich gehalten hatte. Wir hätten es gut hingekriegt.
Meine Hände begannen am engsten Knoten im Netz zu arbeiten. Wenn ich vielleicht gerade genug Platz freimachen könnte, dann könnte ich den Auslöser erreichen. Als ich an den Nylonsträngen zog, schrumpfte der Abstand zwischen dem Knoten, an dem ich arbeitete, und dem nächsten, wodurch die Ausrichtung des Netzes aus dem Netz geworfen wurde. Ich habe meinen Knoten fallen lassen, um zu versuchen, die um ihn herum auszugleichen, aber das Ungleichgewicht hat sich einfach ausgebreitet. Ich habe es verschlimmert.
Ich müsste das ganze Netz zerlegen und neu binden. Nur so konnte man sicherstellen, dass es perfekt ist. Dann konnte ich mich endlich darauf konzentrieren, den Rest der Hütte in Ordnung zu bringen und alles in die richtigen Gruppen einzuteilen. Warum hatten wir sie nicht schon vorher in ihre Plätze gesetzt? Die Welt war Wahnsinn in diesem Zustand! Dass irgendetwas so durcheinander und verwirrt existierte, brachte meine Gedanken in Unordnung.
Aber als ich sie nicht erreichen konnte - mit meinen Händen in sie hineinreißen, sie auseinanderreißen und sie wieder dorthin bringen konnte, wo sie sein sollten, begann ich zu krampfen. Ich bin nicht sicher, wann die ersten Krämpfe auftraten, aber als sie auftraten, dachte ich, ich würde ohnmächtig werden. Ich wünschte, ich würde ohnmächtig werden, denn das würde mich von den Schmerzen befreien.
Mein ganzer Oberkörper wurde angespannt und gezogen. Ich drückte auf das Netz und wünschte mit jedem Stück meines Seins, meine Hände zu benutzen, um das Schiff zu zerstören. Warum wurde mir das verweigert?
Als ich das Chaos um mich herum nicht mehr ändern konnte, begann mein Verstand sich auf sich selbst zu konzentrieren. Ich sah das Chaos, das ich in meinem Leben angerichtet hatte. All die Teile, die nicht passten. All die Dinge, die ich falsch gemacht hatte. Wie meine Abenteuerlust durch einen rücksichtslosen Antrieb ersetzt wurde. Ich drehte jede Entscheidung, die ich jemals traf, immer und immer wieder um, der Virus zwang mich, immer tiefer in mich selbst einzutauchen.
Die nächsten Minuten, Stunden, Tage? - Ich konnte es nicht erkennen - ging als ein rollender Ball des Elends weiter. Irgendwann wurde mir klar, dass die Rache-Walkyrie in den Tiroler Raum übergegangen war, aber ich konnte den Fokus nicht finden, um die Koordinaten festzulegen.
Einige Zeit später hörte ich jemanden zu mir sprechen, der entweder Captain Satchel oder eine Halluzination war. Zu anderen Zeiten dachte ich, ich wäre wieder bei der Goldenen Horde, oder auf dem Dodekaeder mit Senet Mehen, oder bei Night Stalker mit Burnett. Hunderte von Schiffsnamen erfüllten meinen Geist, und ich wollte sie auch sortieren.
Irgendwann wurde mir bewusst, dass Captain Satchel mit heiserer Stimme zu mir sprach.
"Sorri". Tut mir leid. Bist du wach?" fragte er.
Er klang, als hätte er Rasierklingen gegurgelt.
"Ja", sagte ich, obwohl es nur geflüstert war. Jeder Muskel in meinem Körper tat mir weh. Ich hatte immer noch den Drang zu sortieren, aber es war nicht mehr so stark wie früher. Eher der Juckreiz der Infektion, als der Wahnsinn des Wahnsinns.
"Wir sitzen seit etwa acht Stunden vor dem Sprungplatz der Tyrol-Helios", sagte er.
"Acht Stunden?" Ich wiederholte, und nach einer schnellen Berechnung dachte ich mir, dass noch Zeit bleibt, um nach Tirol IV zu kommen. Vielleicht. "Sag mir die Koordinaten und ich tippe sie mit meinem Fuß ein."
[ 07:19:44 ]
Nach einem kurzen Hin und Her erklärte Satchel, was zu tun sei, und das Schiff taumelte in Bewegung. Wir waren wieder unterwegs.
"Damit kommen wir nach Tyrol IV", sagte er.
Ich versuchte, mich zu entspannen, aber ich hatte einen schmerzhaften Druck auf meine Blase. "Ich muss pinkeln."
"Nur zu", sagte Satchel.
"Oh. Ist das... okay?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Nun, es ist jetzt ein wenig kalt, aber besser als die Alternative. Es sei denn, Sie können uns aus diesen Fesseln befreien", sagte er.
"Ich weiß nicht, ob das klug ist, auch wenn ich wüsste, wie das geht", sagte ich. "Ich muss das Pinkeln des Kapitänsstuhls zu der langen Liste von schrecklichen neuen Erfahrungen hinzufügen, die ich bei diesem Lauf gemacht habe."
"Was ist so wichtig an dieser Lieferung?" fragte der Captain.
"Ich habe keine Ahnung. Nur, dass es nicht illegal ist", sagte ich.
"Oh ja, deine Regeln. Du hast ein bisschen über sie geredet, als du nicht mehr dabei warst. Ich mochte sie. Aber ich meine nicht den Fall. Ich meine für dich und Betrix?" fragte er.
"Betrix", sagte ich, in einem halbherzigen Lachen.
"Ihr seid doch nicht wirklich Partner, oder?" fragte er.
Zu diesem Zeitpunkt fand ich es nicht fair, ihn anzulügen, besonders nachdem wir so viel durchgemacht hatten.
"Nein", sagte ich. "Obwohl ich ihr anbot, sich mit ihr zusammen zu tun. Sie hat natürlich abgelehnt."
"Du hast noch immer nicht erklärt, warum die Lieferung so wichtig ist", sagte er und stellte mir dieselbe Frage, die ich Betrix schon vor Ewigkeiten gestellt hatte.
"Freiheit. Die Galaxie sehen. Beweisen Sie meinem Vater, dass ich es alleine schaffen kann", sagte ich.
"Das alles von dieser Lieferung?" fragte er.
"Ich möchte ein Schiff kaufen. Das wird mich ein wenig näher bringen", sagte ich.
"Wird es?" fragte er, was mich verblüfft hat.
"Fühlst du dich nicht frei mit deinem eigenen Schiff?" Ich habe gefragt.
Captain Satchel war für eine Weile still, bevor er sprach. "Verstehen Sie mich nicht falsch. Ich würde Rache Walküre gegen nichts tauschen, aber ich habe immer noch Probleme mit Rechnungen, Treibstoffkosten, Zollgebühren, verrückten Lieferungen, die mich fesseln und mich dazu bringen, selbst zu pinkeln", - wir haben gelacht - "neue Arbeit zu finden, mit der Wartung fertig zu werden. Manchmal vermisse ich die Tage, an denen ich nur ein frischer Kurier war, der sich nur um die Lieferung selbst kümmern musste".
"Sie waren ein Kurier?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Ja", sagte er. "Ich habe für verschiedene Firmen gearbeitet. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Lieferungen. Sie gingen zwar vor etwa zehn Jahren bankrott, aber da hatte ich schon mein Schiff bekommen. Habe einige der Verträge, die sie fallen ließen, aufgefangen, was mir aus der Pforte geholfen hat."
"Ich will immer noch mein eigenes Schiff", sagte ich leise.
Er sagte: "Denk daran, dass du immer gegen Probleme eintauschst, also vergiss nicht, die Fahrt zu genießen."
"Danke", sagte ich, aber ich meinte es nicht wirklich so.
"Werden wir es also schaffen?" fragte er.
"Es wird eng", sagte ich.
Er hat gekichert. "Nun, wir können nicht zulassen, dass du es verpasst. Ich kann noch etwas mehr Geschwindigkeit aus diesem Biest herausquetschen, wenn du bereit bist, ein paar ausgefallene Fußübungen zu machen."
Meine Brust ist voller Hoffnung. "Weisen Sie sie ein!"
Es dauerte nicht lange, bis Vengeance Valkyrie ihre Geschwindigkeit um zwanzig Prozent erhöhte, was uns mit einer Stunde Vorsprung nach Tirol IV bringen würde. Die Lieferung erfolgte am schwimmenden Sternenhafen, was den Transport zum Zielort erleichterte.
Mit weiteren sechs Stunden Reise vor uns, verbrachten wir die Zeit damit, über unsere Erfahrungen als Kuriere zu sprechen. Satchel hat den Großteil der Gespräche geführt, da er älter war, aber ich habe ihn mit den Geschichten meines ersten Laufs beeindruckt.
Wir haben sogar einen Weg gefunden, wie wir aus den Fesseln herauskommen können, als wir in Tirol IV ankamen. Ich gab eine Nachricht an den Schiffsdienst auf der Station ein und bat um Unterstützung in der Kabine, sobald wir angekommen waren. Wir wussten, dass wir komische Blicke bekommen würden, wenn sie durch die Luftschleuse kommen und uns gefesselt und klitschnass vorfinden würden, aber es war besser als festzusitzen.
Die letzten Stunden waren qualvoll, bis wir uns so weit angenähert haben, dass ich zu sehr damit beschäftigt war, das Schiff mit dem großen Zeh am rechten Fuß zu führen, als dass ich mir Sorgen machen konnte, ob ich es schaffen würde oder nicht. Das Andocken war knifflig, aber Satchel war ein ausgezeichneter Ausbilder und er hat mich wie ein Profi durch die Prozedur geführt.
Als das Wartungsteam ankam und uns aus den Fesseln schnitt, wollte ich mir den Koffer schnappen und zum Übergabepunkt sprinten. Ich konnte nicht glauben, dass ich es schaffen würde.
[ 1:05:21 ]
Als die Luftschleuse aufschrie, konnte ich mich kaum noch zusammenreißen. Ich fühlte mich wie ein Sprinter zu Beginn eines Rennens, der darauf wartet, dass der Startschuss fällt.
Ich hörte, wie Satchel das Wartungsteam begrüßte. "Hallo, Leute. Das sieht vielleicht etwas komisch aus, aber..." Als seine Stimme ins Leere lief, wusste ich, dass etwas nicht stimmt. Ich konnte meinen Kopf nicht genug drehen, aber als ich die gelbe Reflexion auf dem inneren Glas sah, wusste ich, was passiert war.
Eine modulierte Stimme kam durch einen Bio-Anzug: "Wir wurden benachrichtigt, dass Vengeance Valkyrie die Quarantäne auf Tangaroa gebrochen hat. Wir nehmen Sie in Gewahrsam, bis das Virus seinen Lauf genommen hat und das Schiff gesäubert wurde."
"Nein! Nein! Ich kann nicht. Ich muss eine Lieferung machen. Es ist gleich hier im Bahnhof. Es ist die Kiste unter dem Abflugstuhl", sagte ich.
"Es tut mir leid, Ma'am. Nichts verlässt das Schiff, bevor es nicht gesäubert wurde. Wir haben strikte Anweisungen", sagte der Mann im Bio-Anzug. "Bitte kooperieren Sie und es wird keine weiteren Strafen geben."
Es war zu Ende. Ich hatte verloren. Ich war am Bahnhof, wahrscheinlich ein paar hundert Meter von meinem Ziel entfernt, und ich würde es nicht schaffen. Ich könnte mir nicht vorstellen, diese Quarantäne zu durchbrechen, ohne den Zorn der UEE zu riskieren.
[ 00:00:00 ]
Ich erinnere mich nicht, dass ich in einer Bioblase vom Schiff geholt wurde, außer, dass Satchel es mir gesagt hat. Die Station hatte keinen Bioeinschlussbereich, also räumten sie einen Hangar aus und drapierten ihn mit Plastik. Nachdem sie bestätigt hatten, dass wir das Virus nicht mehr in uns tragen, haben sie das Plastik wohl in eine Verbrennungsanlage gesteckt.
Wenigstens durften wir unser mobiGlas behalten, solange wir versprachen, keinen Ärger zu machen. Wir hatten auch hellblaue Overalls bekommen, nachdem sie uns durch eine Enviro-Dusche geschickt hatten. Meine Haut war noch roh vom Schrubben.
Nachdem wir uns eingelebt hatten, kontaktierte ich den Lieferort in der Hoffnung, dass ich es noch schaffen würde, aber sie sagten, dass der Banu-Händler, der darauf gewartet hatte, bereits gegangen war. Ich sollte den Koffer bei ihnen lassen. Während des Wartens nahm Satchel Kontakt zu einigen alten Freunden von ihm in der FTL auf, die nach seiner Abreise in die Ränge aufgestiegen waren. Er hat ein paar Gefallen eingelöst, damit ich nicht gefeuert werde.
"Warum hast du das getan?" Ich fragte ihn, nachdem er mir gesagt hatte, was er getan hatte.
"Ich habe dir die Daumen gedrückt", sagte er. "Ich dachte wirklich, dass wir Sie pünktlich zu Ihrer Lieferung bringen würden."
"Aber das war eine große Unannehmlichkeit für Sie", sagte ich.
Er hob eine Augenbraue. "Ich bekam eine ordentliche Summe für den Job bezahlt. Und zum Glück konnte ich sie davon überzeugen, dass das Virus die Schuld für die Verletzung der Quarantäne ist, so dass sie keine Anklage erheben werden.
"Es könnte schlimmer sein", sagte ich und versuchte, mich selbst zu überzeugen.
"Ich habe eine Frage an Sie, Sorri. Was soll ich mit Betrix machen?" fragte er, während er mich genau studierte.
"Was meinst du?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Betrix ist diejenige, die mich angeheuert hat. Es steht in den Protokollen. Wenn es sich bei FTL herumspricht, dass sie unabhängige Verträge macht, würde sie wahrscheinlich ihren Job verlieren", sagte er.
Ein Schüttelfrost bildete sich in meinem Nacken. Mit ein paar einfachen Worten konnte ich einen Dorn von meiner Seite entfernen und Betrix LaGrange aus der FTL verbannen, und wahrscheinlich wird der Kurier für immer in den Reihen stehen. Ich würde auch ihre Träume zerstören.
"Nein", sagte ich und dachte daran, was Betrix mir gesagt hatte, warum sie ein eigenes Schiff wollte. "Nein. Wir sind Rivalen, keine Feinde. Ich hasse sie nicht."
"Selbst nach dem, was sie dir antun wollte? Ich hätte es nicht angeboten, wenn ich nicht der Meinung wäre, dass du deine Rache verdienst", sagte er.
"Nein. Ich bin mir sicher. Sie hat eindeutig einige Probleme, aber das will ich ihr nicht antun", sagte ich. "Außerdem ist es nicht richtig, dass sie gefeuert wird, weil sie fast dasselbe macht wie ich."
Er zuckte die Achseln. "Na gut."
Nach einem weiteren Tag des Wartens im Behelfsraum wurden wir wieder gereinigt und mit einer offiziellen Verwarnung entlassen. Ich schätzte mich glücklich, dass das alles war, was sie getan hatten.
Ich habe meine Sachen aus der Rache-Walkyrie gesammelt, einschließlich des lästigen Koffers. Bevor ich ging, übergab mir Satchel einen versiegelten Umschlag.
"Was ist das?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Mach es auf, wenn du endlich dein erstes Schiff bekommst", sagte er augenzwinkernd.
Ich seufzte. "Das wird noch lange dauern."
"Wahrscheinlich", sagte er. "Aber ich bin mir sicher, dass du einen Weg findest, es früher als du denkst, zu verwirklichen. Du hattest wirklich Pech mit dieser Lieferung."
Kein langer Abschied, ich habe Satchel auf seinem Schiff zurückgelassen. Außerdem gab es eine kleine Chance, dass ich ihn in naher Zukunft wieder sehen könnte. Er versprach mir einen Deal für Fahrten mit ihm, wenn ich ein Schiff für eine freiberufliche Arbeit brauche. Ich wusste, dass es angesichts der Größe der Galaxie unwahrscheinlich ist, aber es war eine nette Geste.
Bevor ich Tirol IV verließ, lieferte ich den silbernen Koffer mit den Banu-Symbolen aus. Ich erhielt einen Hungerlohn für meine Bemühungen, der kaum die Fahrt zurück nach Sol bezahlte, damit ich Maria Goranes Scheidungspapiere ausliefern konnte.
Von meiner Last befreit, fühlte ich mich seltsam ruhig. Die beschleunigte Frist war mir ein Klotz am Bein gewesen. Jetzt, wo es vorbei war, fühlte ich mich ein wenig schwerelos.
Ich habe auf dem Rückweg ein paar FTL-Jobs übernommen. Ich hatte meine Bilanz praktisch auf Null gestellt, als ich versuchte, nach Tirol zu kommen, also war es schön, wieder in die positive Richtung zu arbeiten.
Auf dem Weg zum Davien-Sprungpunkt saß ich auf einem Nutzfahrzeug, das durch das Kilian-System fuhr, und drückte meine Nase gegen das coole Aussichtsfenster. Die leuchtenden Sternenschwaden draußen gaben mir das Gefühl, sie zum ersten Mal wieder anzuschauen.
Als ich die winzige Sonne im Zentrum des Systems in der Ferne wachsen sah, erlebte ich die Reise der letzten Tage in meinem Kopf und die harten Wahrheiten, die ich gesehen hatte, während ich vom Sortiervirus verzehrt wurde. Die Worte des Banu über Vita Perry kamen zu mir zurück: Reisen Sie in sich selbst und Sie werden Ihr Ziel erreichen.
Damals verstand ich nicht, was die Banu gemeint hatten, aber nach der verrückten Lieferung hatte ich ein wenig mehr Verständnis. Wie Satchel gesagt hatte, man tauscht immer gegen Probleme. Ich war so damit beschäftigt, genug Credits für mein Aurora LX zu sammeln, dass ich vergessen hatte, warum ich überhaupt Kurier geworden war - um die Galaxie zu sehen.
Wenn ich diesen Weg weitergehen würde, würde ich wie Senet Mehen enden, so konzentriert auf meine Ziele, dass ich den ganzen Grund meiner Reise verpasst habe.
Als ich das Sol-System erreichte, hatte ich mit dem Rückschlag Frieden gefunden. Im Rückblick war es eine erstaunliche, wenn auch erschütternde Erfahrung gewesen, die in gewisser Weise die verlorenen Credits wert war.
Manchmal verliert man einfach. Das war der Weg des Universums. Aber ich würde mich nicht davon abhalten lassen. Trotz des endgültigen Urteils hatte ich mir viel bewiesen.
Die Zustellung der Scheidungspapiere der Gorane in Sol war ein wenig bittersüß. Damit war die Reise zu Ende. Als es vorbei war, zog ich mein mobiGlas hoch und schaltete meine Verfügbarkeit in die 'On'-Position. Ich hatte eine Menge Kreditpunkte nachzuholen.
Erst einige Monate später, nach der verpfuschten Tirol IV-Lieferung, wurde die Sache endgültig abgeschlossen. Ich war gerade auf Ferron gelandet, als ich eine Nachricht von Alara Bonaire erhielt.
Zuerst verwirrte mich der Name, bis ich erkannte, dass es die ehemalige Frau von Abel Gorane war, dem schwachsinnigen Geschäftsmann, vor dem ich sie gerettet hatte.
Grüße Sorri,
Ich hoffe sehr, dass es Ihnen gut geht. Ich kann dir nie wirklich vergelten, was du getan hast. Hätte Abel Maria in das Schiff gebracht, hätte ich sie nie wieder gesehen.
Mein Leben vor der Scheidung war sehr kompliziert, deshalb bin ich froh, meinen Mann los zu sein. Ich versuche, es zu vereinfachen, was mich wiederum an Sie und Ihre Großzügigkeit denken ließ. Ich habe beschlossen, dir Abels altes Schiff "Black Queen" zu vermachen. Er sagte, er hat sie nach mir benannt, aber ich hoffe, sie behandelt dich besser, als er mich je behandelt hat. Sie ist ziemlich erschöpft, kann aber immer noch in die Tiefe gehen. Die Zugangscodes finden Sie am Ende dieser Nachricht, zusammen mit der Hangarnummer. Alles Gute und viel Glück.
Mit freundlichen Grüßen,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. Die ganze Zeit war ich sicher, dass es ein Traum war und dass ich mit kaltem Schweiß bedeckt aufwachen würde.
Aber dann war er da, der Hangar. Es war eine versiegelte Bucht, also ging ich durch die Luftschleuse. Auf Nummer fünfzehn saß ein frühes Modell Aurora ES. Es hatte starke Brandflecken auf der Nase, Lochfraß an den Seiten und die Farbe war verblasst.
Es war kein Schiff, sondern ein fliegender Ball aus Fixierband. Aber wenn der Brief, den ich gerade erhalten habe, wahr ist, dann war es meiner.
Ich ließ einen Schrei los und rannte zur schwarzen Königin. Ein paar Arbeiter in roten Overalls machten Wartungsarbeiten an einer Caterpillar auf der anderen Seite des Hangars. Sie schauten auf meinen Sprint über den harten Bodenbelag. Ich hörte ein paar Lacher, als ich die Nasenpartie umarmte.
Meine Finger zitterten, als ich die Zugangscodes eintippte. Als die Tür aufzischte, konnte ich kaum noch stehen.
Das Innere war ein Wrack. Es gab kaum genug Platz zum Stehen. Der Stuhl des Piloten war aus blankem Metall. Einige der Bedienelemente waren abgeknickt und die Eingeweide von etwas Wichtigem hingen von der Decke.
Ich berührte jede einzelne Oberfläche der schwarzen Königin, innen und außen, und versuchte mir zu beweisen, dass sie echt war. Ich meine, es flugfähig zu machen, würde einige ernsthafte Kredite erfordern, aber nichts im Vergleich zu dem, was ein neues Schiff kosten würde. Ich konnte es nicht glauben. Ich wollte meinem Vater eine Nachricht schicken und ihm sagen, dass ich endlich mein eigenes Schiff habe. Er würde es nicht glauben.
Aber dann erinnerte ich mich an den Zettel, den mir Captain Satchel hinterlassen hatte. Ich bin wieder nach draußen gelaufen, um meinen Rucksack zu holen. Der Brief wurde unten eingeklemmt, die Ecke praktisch abgerissen.
Das Papier im Inneren war dick. Man konnte die Stücke aus der Zeit der Herstellung sehen. Es war ein Blick in die Seele von Captain Satchel. Er hatte meinen Namen mit einem antiken Stift auf die Vorderseite geschrieben. Ich konnte an der Art und Weise erkennen, wie sich die Dicke der Buchstaben mit dem Strich veränderte.
Ich war gerade dabei, den Brief zu lesen, als ich beschloss, dass der richtige Platz auf dem Kapitänsstuhl ist. Meine erste Notiz, von Captain zu Captain.
Ich klappte es auf und bewunderte die Art und Weise, wie das Papier gegen sich selbst kratzte. Dann las ich seine Botschaft laut vor, in die Heiligkeit meines eigenen Schiffes: Schwarze Königin.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Herzlichen Glückwunsch! Ich hoffe, dieser Tag ist eher früher als später, aber so oder so ist er hier. Denkt einfach daran, dass ihr dieses Schiff erst auf die einzige Art und Weise taufen müsst, die ihr kennt, bevor ihr es als euer Schiff beanspruchen könnt.
Dein Freund,
Schulranzen
Ich begriff seine Bedeutung nicht, bis ich mich daran erinnerte, was auf Vengeance Valkyrie passiert war, als wir den Sortier-Virus hatten und in unseren Stühlen gefangen waren. Ich lachte eine ganze Minute lang, bevor ich den gefalteten Ton in einen Riss zwischen den Instrumententafeln steckte.
Es fiel mir wieder auf, was es braucht, um die schwarze Königin in Flugform zu bringen. Zum Glück hatte ich die letzten Monate hart gearbeitet und hatte fast genug, um die Reparaturen zu bezahlen. Schon bald würde ich die gewünschten Aufträge annehmen können, da ich nicht an Schiffsfahrpläne und vorgegebene Kurierrouten gebunden wäre.
Ein Stich des Bedauerns traf mich in den Bauch, als ich darüber nachdachte. Während ich in meinem eigenen Schiff wäre, würde ich nicht mehr durch die besiedelten Sternenhäfen und schwimmenden Stationen reisen. Stattdessen wäre ich in einer Stahldose eingesperrt, genau wie Senet Mehen. Ich meine, war das nicht der Grund, warum ich überhaupt Kurierdienst gemacht habe? Um Leute zu treffen?
Plötzlich schien die schwarze Königin ein einsamer Ort zu sein. Was zum Teufel habe ich mir dabei gedacht? Dafür hatte ich so hart gearbeitet und war nun voller Zweifel?
Ich saß eine halbe Stunde lang und überlegte mir meine Optionen, bevor ich endlich eine Lösung fand, die mehrere Probleme auf einmal löste. Ein kurzes Antippen meines Mobis brachte den Nachrichten-Link zum Vorschein.
Liebe Betrix, ich habe angefangen zu tippen, mir ist klar, dass dieses Angebot etwas seltsam erscheinen mag, aber ich habe jetzt mein eigenes Schiff. Bestimmte Aspekte der Operation würden mit einer zweiten Person reibungsloser ablaufen. Sind Sie daran interessiert, mein Erster Offizier zu werden?
Das Ende
Teil 4: Manchmal verlierst du einfach
[ 18:06:18 ]
Die Rache Walküre steuerte auf den Helios-Tirol Absprungpunkt zu, während Captain Satchel und ich in stiller Verzweiflung auf die orangefarbenen Schrotthaufen in seinem Schoß starrten. Er hatte den Sortiervirus, den er wahrscheinlich vom Obsthändler bekommen hatte, was bedeutete, dass ich ihn auch hatte.
Die Lieferung nicht zu machen, war meine geringste Sorge. Wir waren in Lebensgefahr, wenn wir das Schiff nicht vor uns selbst schützen konnten.
"Wie lange ist es her, dass Sie diese Frucht gekauft haben?" Ich habe gefragt.
Er sah aus, als ob er sichtlich versuchte, seine orangefarbenen Stücke nicht aufzuheben. Sein Kiefer hat gepulst.
"Vor etwa zwei Stunden", sagte er mit beträchtlicher Anstrengung.
"Das bedeutet, dass wir etwa zwei Stunden haben, bis ich anfange, Anzeichen zu zeigen, vielleicht weniger abhängig davon, ob das Körpergewicht eine Rolle spielt", sagte ich und klopfte mit den Fingern gegen mein Kinn.
Captain Satchel fing an, nach den Kontrollen zu greifen. Ich habe seinen Arm gepackt.
"Was machst du da?", fragte er.
"Das hängt davon ab, was du tust", antwortete ich. "Ich sah, wie ein Typ einen Automaten umkippte und anfing, ihm die Eingeweide rauszureißen. Wenn du das tust, sind wir am Arsch."
"Die Einstellung des Quantums, um uns zum Sprungpunkt zu bringen", sagte er.
"Okay, stell den Kurs ein, dann fessle ich dich im Startstuhl", sagte ich und beobachtete seine Bewegungen genau.
Bei der Eingabe unseres Zieles sagte er: "Hinten im Seitenfach unter der Notration sind ein paar Gurte."
Ich ging in die zweite Kabine und fand einige vertraut aussehende schwarze Riemen. "Wenn wir das durchstehen, gibt es einen Sojourner, den ich kennen gelernt habe, der dir gefallen würde."
Satchel beendete die Einstellung der Koordinaten und bewegte sich zum Abflugstuhl. Er legte die Gurte um seine breite Brust und klickte ein. Ich wickelte das Seil um seine Arme, während er mich mit seinen braun-mit-Goldflecken versehenen Augen beobachtete.
"Ich weiß, das ist eine ernste Situation, aber ich muss sagen, dass ich diesen Teil irgendwie genieße", sagte er mit einem Augenzwinkern.
"Ist das der Teil, wo ich dich ausnutze?" fragte ich, und bevor er antworten konnte, beugte ich mich vor und gab ihm einen tiefen Kuss.
Wir starrten uns an, bis ich den Blickkontakt abbrach. "Lass dich nie ablenken", sagte ich und schüttelte den Kopf. "Ich muss herausfinden, was zu tun ist, bevor der Virus mich trifft."
Satchel sah verloren aus. Er zuckte gegen seine Seile. Seine Finger zupften am Sitzleder. "Weißt du, wie lange das noch dauern wird? Wenn ich immer wieder feststellen muss, wie sehr mein Schiff ein ekelhaftes, unorganisiertes Chaos ist, bin ich nicht sicher, ob ich mich jemals wieder an Bord wohlfühlen werde."
"Ich habe keine Ahnung", sagte ich. "Es könnten Stunden oder Tage sein. Aber vielleicht kann ich das System so einstellen, dass es uns nach Tirol IV bringt, damit wir zumindest während der Fahrt weiterfahren können."
Er hat sich in den Seilen gezerrt. Sein Gesicht war hart vor Kummer. Er sprach mit bissigen Zähnen.
"Das wird nicht funktionieren. Nach einem Sprung müssen Sie das Ziel festlegen. Der wackelige Abstand zwischen den beiden wirft die Koordinaten durcheinander. Und das Schildpower-Licht blinkt falsch", sagte er.
"Falsch?" Ich drehte mich um, um in Panik zu schauen.
"Falsch". Es sollte jede halbe Sekunde sein. Der Zeitpunkt ist schlecht gewählt. Sollte jetzt blinken . . . . jetzt . . . jetzt! Siehst du! Ich muss es reparieren!"
Ich sah zu, wie er sich wehrte und merkte, dass wir ihn kaum gefesselt hatten, bevor der Virus wirklich zuschlug. Hätten wir noch ein paar Minuten gewartet, wäre er in das Schiff gerast und ich hätte es schwer gehabt, ihn aufzuhalten, da er doppelt so groß war wie ich.
"Crite", sagte ich, hinten an der Seitenwand, "es gibt kein Seil mehr. Nicht, dass es wichtig wäre. Wenn ich gefesselt bin, wenn wir Tyrol treffen, kann ich das Schiff nicht zurücksetzen. Aber wenn ich mich nicht irgendwie fessle, zerreiße ich das Schiff und wir werden wahrscheinlich sterben."
Satchel konnte nicht sprechen. Sein Nacken verkrampfte sich wie Stahlseile, als er versuchte, aus dem Stuhl zu kommen.
Ich sagte: "Wir können auch nicht um Hilfe von Tangaroa bitten, da wir die Quarantäne gebrochen haben und niemand wird uns anfassen wollen."
Ich trat gegen die Seitenwand und legte meinen Kopf in die Hände. "Warum dieses Mal? Warum muss es immer so schwer sein? Ich kämpfe und kämpfe und tue alles, was ich kann, und jetzt, selbst wenn ich einen Weg finde, mich zu fesseln, werden wir Tirol IV nicht rechtzeitig erreichen. Was bedeutet, nach all den Gebühren, die ich bezahlt habe, werde ich am Tag Null bei FTL zurück sein. Alles, was ich im letzten Jahr getan habe, wird umsonst gewesen sein. Vielleicht hatte Betrix Recht. Meine Regeln sind blöd. Sie haben mich nur davon überzeugt, dass ich das schaffen kann. Niemals mit leeren Händen reisen. Nichts Illegales. Offizielle Routen sind für Trottel. Lassen Sie sich nicht ablenken! Hören Sie nie auf zu denken. Tu so, als wüsstest du es. Wir fügen jetzt eine siebte Regel hinzu: Manchmal verliert man einfach."
Es schmerzte, als hätte ich eine Sonneneruption in der Brust. Es schmerzte, weil es wahr war. Manchmal hast du einfach verloren. Es war eine Lektion, die ich beim Kartenspielen mit meinem Vater nach den Stunden in der Bar gelernt hatte. Manchmal war es egal, wie man sie spielte oder in welcher Reihenfolge. Manchmal haben sich die Karten so gestapelt, dass es keine Outs gibt.
So habe ich mich auch gefühlt. Ein Mädchen ohne Ausreden.
Der arme Kapitän Satchel hatte Schaum vor dem Mund. Das hätte ich schon bald sein können. Ich schnappte mir einen Lappen und wischte ihm die Wange ab. Er bedankte sich mit seinen Augen, obwohl sie von Schmerz beringt waren.
Da der Kapitän nicht mehr sprechen konnte, fing ich an, das Schiff nach etwas zu durchsuchen, das ich als Seil benutzen konnte. In seinem Laderaum fand ich ein Netz, das ich mit einer Messerscheibe befreite. Wenn ich es zusammenrollen würde, würde es reichen, um mich zu überwältigen. Aber wie fesselt man sich selbst?
Ich fand die Antwort in einer kleinen Metallbox mit einem Haken, der am Ende herausragt. Er hatte einen Magnetfuß und wurde zum Einziehen von Gegenständen in den Laderaum verwendet.
Ich nahm mein Netz und die automatische Seilrolle mit in die Hauptkabine. Ich hatte geplant, mich an das ausklappbare Bett zu fesseln, aber mit dem Flaschenzug hätte ich keinen Einfluss. Ich wollte dem Kapitänsstuhl ausweichen, hatte aber keine Wahl, da es keine anderen Plätze im Schiff gab.
Nach anderthalb Stunden Umbau hatte ich alles aufgebaut und saß auf dem Kapitänsstuhl mit einer langen Stange in der Hand. Das Netz war locker um meinen Körper. Ich musste aufpassen, dass es mich beim Anziehen nicht erwürgt. Sobald ich die automatische Seilscheibe getroffen habe, kann ich es nicht mehr aufhalten.
Ich wischte dem Captain die Nase ab, bevor ich zu meinem Platz zurückkehrte. Er wirkte wie ausgelaugt von seinen Bemühungen. Ich glaube, er hatte ein paar Mal Krämpfe bekommen, weil seine Muskeln so angespannt waren, aber es war schwer, das Schreien durch die zusammengebissenen Zähne zu hören.
Bevor ich auf den Stuhl zurückkam, wurde mir etwas über den Captain klar. Seine Arme verkrampften sich, als wollte er einen Lastwagen anheben, aber seine Beine waren fast vollkommen ruhig.
Während ich noch meine Fähigkeiten hatte, modifizierte ich mein Netz, um meinem rechten Bein etwas Bewegung zu geben und zog meinen Stiefel und Socken aus. Im Stuhl sitzend, das Netz um meinen Körper locker, lehnte ich mich zurück und drückte den Knopf am Auto-Pulley.
Sofort begann das Netz um mich herum zusammenzubrechen. Ich warf die Stange weg und ordnete meine Arme sorgfältig so an, dass sie sich nicht lösen konnten. Die Fäden zogen sich an meinem Körper fest, fast schmerzhaft, und ich hatte Angst, dass ich es falsch aufbaute, dass ich die Blutzirkulation wie einen Druckverband abschneide und als Tetraplegiker herauskommen würde. Aber dann hörte der Motor auf zu brummen und das Netz war zwar eng, aber nicht übermäßig schmerzhaft.
Ich habe die Bewegung meines rechten Beines überprüft. Ich hatte genug Platz, um die Steuerung zu erreichen. Sobald wir auf das Tyrol-System trafen, konnte ich das neue Ziel eingeben, vorausgesetzt, der Kapitän war zu diesem Zeitpunkt in der Lage zu sprechen. Oder dass ich es war.
[ 15:13:59 ]
Als die Minuten verstrichen und die zu erwartenden Sortier-Virussymptome nirgends in Sicht waren, machte ich mir Sorgen, dass ich mich unnötig gefesselt hatte. Eine weitere Minute rollte vorbei. Ich seufzte und löste die Spannung, die ich gehalten hatte. Wir hätten es gut hingekriegt.
Meine Hände begannen am engsten Knoten im Netz zu arbeiten. Wenn ich vielleicht gerade genug Platz freimachen könnte, dann könnte ich den Auslöser erreichen. Als ich an den Nylonsträngen zog, schrumpfte der Abstand zwischen dem Knoten, an dem ich arbeitete, und dem nächsten, wodurch die Ausrichtung des Netzes aus dem Netz geworfen wurde. Ich habe meinen Knoten fallen lassen, um zu versuchen, die um ihn herum auszugleichen, aber das Ungleichgewicht hat sich einfach ausgebreitet. Ich habe es verschlimmert.
Ich müsste das ganze Netz zerlegen und neu binden. Nur so konnte man sicherstellen, dass es perfekt ist. Dann konnte ich mich endlich darauf konzentrieren, den Rest der Hütte in Ordnung zu bringen und alles in die richtigen Gruppen einzuteilen. Warum hatten wir sie nicht schon vorher in ihre Plätze gesetzt? Die Welt war Wahnsinn in diesem Zustand! Dass irgendetwas so durcheinander und verwirrt existierte, brachte meine Gedanken in Unordnung.
Aber als ich sie nicht erreichen konnte - mit meinen Händen in sie hineinreißen, sie auseinanderreißen und sie wieder dorthin bringen konnte, wo sie sein sollten, begann ich zu krampfen. Ich bin nicht sicher, wann die ersten Krämpfe auftraten, aber als sie auftraten, dachte ich, ich würde ohnmächtig werden. Ich wünschte, ich würde ohnmächtig werden, denn das würde mich von den Schmerzen befreien.
Mein ganzer Oberkörper wurde angespannt und gezogen. Ich drückte auf das Netz und wünschte mit jedem Stück meines Seins, meine Hände zu benutzen, um das Schiff zu zerstören. Warum wurde mir das verweigert?
Als ich das Chaos um mich herum nicht mehr ändern konnte, begann mein Verstand sich auf sich selbst zu konzentrieren. Ich sah das Chaos, das ich in meinem Leben angerichtet hatte. All die Teile, die nicht passten. All die Dinge, die ich falsch gemacht hatte. Wie meine Abenteuerlust durch einen rücksichtslosen Antrieb ersetzt wurde. Ich drehte jede Entscheidung, die ich jemals traf, immer und immer wieder um, der Virus zwang mich, immer tiefer in mich selbst einzutauchen.
Die nächsten Minuten, Stunden, Tage? - Ich konnte es nicht erkennen - ging als ein rollender Ball des Elends weiter. Irgendwann wurde mir klar, dass die Rache-Walkyrie in den Tiroler Raum übergegangen war, aber ich konnte den Fokus nicht finden, um die Koordinaten festzulegen.
Einige Zeit später hörte ich jemanden zu mir sprechen, der entweder Captain Satchel oder eine Halluzination war. Zu anderen Zeiten dachte ich, ich wäre wieder bei der Goldenen Horde, oder auf dem Dodekaeder mit Senet Mehen, oder bei Night Stalker mit Burnett. Hunderte von Schiffsnamen erfüllten meinen Geist, und ich wollte sie auch sortieren.
Irgendwann wurde mir bewusst, dass Captain Satchel mit heiserer Stimme zu mir sprach.
"Sorri". Tut mir leid. Bist du wach?" fragte er.
Er klang, als hätte er Rasierklingen gegurgelt.
"Ja", sagte ich, obwohl es nur geflüstert war. Jeder Muskel in meinem Körper tat mir weh. Ich hatte immer noch den Drang zu sortieren, aber es war nicht mehr so stark wie früher. Eher der Juckreiz der Infektion, als der Wahnsinn des Wahnsinns.
"Wir sitzen seit etwa acht Stunden vor dem Sprungplatz der Tyrol-Helios", sagte er.
"Acht Stunden?" Ich wiederholte, und nach einer schnellen Berechnung dachte ich mir, dass noch Zeit bleibt, um nach Tirol IV zu kommen. Vielleicht. "Sag mir die Koordinaten und ich tippe sie mit meinem Fuß ein."
[ 07:19:44 ]
Nach einem kurzen Hin und Her erklärte Satchel, was zu tun sei, und das Schiff taumelte in Bewegung. Wir waren wieder unterwegs.
"Damit kommen wir nach Tyrol IV", sagte er.
Ich versuchte, mich zu entspannen, aber ich hatte einen schmerzhaften Druck auf meine Blase. "Ich muss pinkeln."
"Nur zu", sagte Satchel.
"Oh. Ist das... okay?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Nun, es ist jetzt ein wenig kalt, aber besser als die Alternative. Es sei denn, Sie können uns aus diesen Fesseln befreien", sagte er.
"Ich weiß nicht, ob das klug ist, auch wenn ich wüsste, wie das geht", sagte ich. "Ich muss das Pinkeln des Kapitänsstuhls zu der langen Liste von schrecklichen neuen Erfahrungen hinzufügen, die ich bei diesem Lauf gemacht habe."
"Was ist so wichtig an dieser Lieferung?" fragte der Captain.
"Ich habe keine Ahnung. Nur, dass es nicht illegal ist", sagte ich.
"Oh ja, deine Regeln. Du hast ein bisschen über sie geredet, als du nicht mehr dabei warst. Ich mochte sie. Aber ich meine nicht den Fall. Ich meine für dich und Betrix?" fragte er.
"Betrix", sagte ich, in einem halbherzigen Lachen.
"Ihr seid doch nicht wirklich Partner, oder?" fragte er.
Zu diesem Zeitpunkt fand ich es nicht fair, ihn anzulügen, besonders nachdem wir so viel durchgemacht hatten.
"Nein", sagte ich. "Obwohl ich ihr anbot, sich mit ihr zusammen zu tun. Sie hat natürlich abgelehnt."
"Du hast noch immer nicht erklärt, warum die Lieferung so wichtig ist", sagte er und stellte mir dieselbe Frage, die ich Betrix schon vor Ewigkeiten gestellt hatte.
"Freiheit. Die Galaxie sehen. Beweisen Sie meinem Vater, dass ich es alleine schaffen kann", sagte ich.
"Das alles von dieser Lieferung?" fragte er.
"Ich möchte ein Schiff kaufen. Das wird mich ein wenig näher bringen", sagte ich.
"Wird es?" fragte er, was mich verblüfft hat.
"Fühlst du dich nicht frei mit deinem eigenen Schiff?" Ich habe gefragt.
Captain Satchel war für eine Weile still, bevor er sprach. "Verstehen Sie mich nicht falsch. Ich würde Rache Walküre gegen nichts tauschen, aber ich habe immer noch Probleme mit Rechnungen, Treibstoffkosten, Zollgebühren, verrückten Lieferungen, die mich fesseln und mich dazu bringen, selbst zu pinkeln", - wir haben gelacht - "neue Arbeit zu finden, mit der Wartung fertig zu werden. Manchmal vermisse ich die Tage, an denen ich nur ein frischer Kurier war, der sich nur um die Lieferung selbst kümmern musste".
"Sie waren ein Kurier?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Ja", sagte er. "Ich habe für verschiedene Firmen gearbeitet. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Lieferungen. Sie gingen zwar vor etwa zehn Jahren bankrott, aber da hatte ich schon mein Schiff bekommen. Habe einige der Verträge, die sie fallen ließen, aufgefangen, was mir aus der Pforte geholfen hat."
"Ich will immer noch mein eigenes Schiff", sagte ich leise.
Er sagte: "Denk daran, dass du immer gegen Probleme eintauschst, also vergiss nicht, die Fahrt zu genießen."
"Danke", sagte ich, aber ich meinte es nicht wirklich so.
"Werden wir es also schaffen?" fragte er.
"Es wird eng", sagte ich.
Er hat gekichert. "Nun, wir können nicht zulassen, dass du es verpasst. Ich kann noch etwas mehr Geschwindigkeit aus diesem Biest herausquetschen, wenn du bereit bist, ein paar ausgefallene Fußübungen zu machen."
Meine Brust ist voller Hoffnung. "Weisen Sie sie ein!"
Es dauerte nicht lange, bis Vengeance Valkyrie ihre Geschwindigkeit um zwanzig Prozent erhöhte, was uns mit einer Stunde Vorsprung nach Tirol IV bringen würde. Die Lieferung erfolgte am schwimmenden Sternenhafen, was den Transport zum Zielort erleichterte.
Mit weiteren sechs Stunden Reise vor uns, verbrachten wir die Zeit damit, über unsere Erfahrungen als Kuriere zu sprechen. Satchel hat den Großteil der Gespräche geführt, da er älter war, aber ich habe ihn mit den Geschichten meines ersten Laufs beeindruckt.
Wir haben sogar einen Weg gefunden, wie wir aus den Fesseln herauskommen können, als wir in Tirol IV ankamen. Ich gab eine Nachricht an den Schiffsdienst auf der Station ein und bat um Unterstützung in der Kabine, sobald wir angekommen waren. Wir wussten, dass wir komische Blicke bekommen würden, wenn sie durch die Luftschleuse kommen und uns gefesselt und klitschnass vorfinden würden, aber es war besser als festzusitzen.
Die letzten Stunden waren qualvoll, bis wir uns so weit angenähert haben, dass ich zu sehr damit beschäftigt war, das Schiff mit dem großen Zeh am rechten Fuß zu führen, als dass ich mir Sorgen machen konnte, ob ich es schaffen würde oder nicht. Das Andocken war knifflig, aber Satchel war ein ausgezeichneter Ausbilder und er hat mich wie ein Profi durch die Prozedur geführt.
Als das Wartungsteam ankam und uns aus den Fesseln schnitt, wollte ich mir den Koffer schnappen und zum Übergabepunkt sprinten. Ich konnte nicht glauben, dass ich es schaffen würde.
[ 1:05:21 ]
Als die Luftschleuse aufschrie, konnte ich mich kaum noch zusammenreißen. Ich fühlte mich wie ein Sprinter zu Beginn eines Rennens, der darauf wartet, dass der Startschuss fällt.
Ich hörte, wie Satchel das Wartungsteam begrüßte. "Hallo, Leute. Das sieht vielleicht etwas komisch aus, aber..." Als seine Stimme ins Leere lief, wusste ich, dass etwas nicht stimmt. Ich konnte meinen Kopf nicht genug drehen, aber als ich die gelbe Reflexion auf dem inneren Glas sah, wusste ich, was passiert war.
Eine modulierte Stimme kam durch einen Bio-Anzug: "Wir wurden benachrichtigt, dass Vengeance Valkyrie die Quarantäne auf Tangaroa gebrochen hat. Wir nehmen Sie in Gewahrsam, bis das Virus seinen Lauf genommen hat und das Schiff gesäubert wurde."
"Nein! Nein! Ich kann nicht. Ich muss eine Lieferung machen. Es ist gleich hier im Bahnhof. Es ist die Kiste unter dem Abflugstuhl", sagte ich.
"Es tut mir leid, Ma'am. Nichts verlässt das Schiff, bevor es nicht gesäubert wurde. Wir haben strikte Anweisungen", sagte der Mann im Bio-Anzug. "Bitte kooperieren Sie und es wird keine weiteren Strafen geben."
Es war zu Ende. Ich hatte verloren. Ich war am Bahnhof, wahrscheinlich ein paar hundert Meter von meinem Ziel entfernt, und ich würde es nicht schaffen. Ich könnte mir nicht vorstellen, diese Quarantäne zu durchbrechen, ohne den Zorn der UEE zu riskieren.
[ 00:00:00 ]
Ich erinnere mich nicht, dass ich in einer Bioblase vom Schiff geholt wurde, außer, dass Satchel es mir gesagt hat. Die Station hatte keinen Bioeinschlussbereich, also räumten sie einen Hangar aus und drapierten ihn mit Plastik. Nachdem sie bestätigt hatten, dass wir das Virus nicht mehr in uns tragen, haben sie das Plastik wohl in eine Verbrennungsanlage gesteckt.
Wenigstens durften wir unser mobiGlas behalten, solange wir versprachen, keinen Ärger zu machen. Wir hatten auch hellblaue Overalls bekommen, nachdem sie uns durch eine Enviro-Dusche geschickt hatten. Meine Haut war noch roh vom Schrubben.
Nachdem wir uns eingelebt hatten, kontaktierte ich den Lieferort in der Hoffnung, dass ich es noch schaffen würde, aber sie sagten, dass der Banu-Händler, der darauf gewartet hatte, bereits gegangen war. Ich sollte den Koffer bei ihnen lassen. Während des Wartens nahm Satchel Kontakt zu einigen alten Freunden von ihm in der FTL auf, die nach seiner Abreise in die Ränge aufgestiegen waren. Er hat ein paar Gefallen eingelöst, damit ich nicht gefeuert werde.
"Warum hast du das getan?" Ich fragte ihn, nachdem er mir gesagt hatte, was er getan hatte.
"Ich habe dir die Daumen gedrückt", sagte er. "Ich dachte wirklich, dass wir Sie pünktlich zu Ihrer Lieferung bringen würden."
"Aber das war eine große Unannehmlichkeit für Sie", sagte ich.
Er hob eine Augenbraue. "Ich bekam eine ordentliche Summe für den Job bezahlt. Und zum Glück konnte ich sie davon überzeugen, dass das Virus die Schuld für die Verletzung der Quarantäne ist, so dass sie keine Anklage erheben werden.
"Es könnte schlimmer sein", sagte ich und versuchte, mich selbst zu überzeugen.
"Ich habe eine Frage an Sie, Sorri. Was soll ich mit Betrix machen?" fragte er, während er mich genau studierte.
"Was meinst du?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Betrix ist diejenige, die mich angeheuert hat. Es steht in den Protokollen. Wenn es sich bei FTL herumspricht, dass sie unabhängige Verträge macht, würde sie wahrscheinlich ihren Job verlieren", sagte er.
Ein Schüttelfrost bildete sich in meinem Nacken. Mit ein paar einfachen Worten konnte ich einen Dorn von meiner Seite entfernen und Betrix LaGrange aus der FTL verbannen, und wahrscheinlich wird der Kurier für immer in den Reihen stehen. Ich würde auch ihre Träume zerstören.
"Nein", sagte ich und dachte daran, was Betrix mir gesagt hatte, warum sie ein eigenes Schiff wollte. "Nein. Wir sind Rivalen, keine Feinde. Ich hasse sie nicht."
"Selbst nach dem, was sie dir antun wollte? Ich hätte es nicht angeboten, wenn ich nicht der Meinung wäre, dass du deine Rache verdienst", sagte er.
"Nein. Ich bin mir sicher. Sie hat eindeutig einige Probleme, aber das will ich ihr nicht antun", sagte ich. "Außerdem ist es nicht richtig, dass sie gefeuert wird, weil sie fast dasselbe macht wie ich."
Er zuckte die Achseln. "Na gut."
Nach einem weiteren Tag des Wartens im Behelfsraum wurden wir wieder gereinigt und mit einer offiziellen Verwarnung entlassen. Ich schätzte mich glücklich, dass das alles war, was sie getan hatten.
Ich habe meine Sachen aus der Rache-Walkyrie gesammelt, einschließlich des lästigen Koffers. Bevor ich ging, übergab mir Satchel einen versiegelten Umschlag.
"Was ist das?" Ich habe gefragt.
"Mach es auf, wenn du endlich dein erstes Schiff bekommst", sagte er augenzwinkernd.
Ich seufzte. "Das wird noch lange dauern."
"Wahrscheinlich", sagte er. "Aber ich bin mir sicher, dass du einen Weg findest, es früher als du denkst, zu verwirklichen. Du hattest wirklich Pech mit dieser Lieferung."
Kein langer Abschied, ich habe Satchel auf seinem Schiff zurückgelassen. Außerdem gab es eine kleine Chance, dass ich ihn in naher Zukunft wieder sehen könnte. Er versprach mir einen Deal für Fahrten mit ihm, wenn ich ein Schiff für eine freiberufliche Arbeit brauche. Ich wusste, dass es angesichts der Größe der Galaxie unwahrscheinlich ist, aber es war eine nette Geste.
Bevor ich Tirol IV verließ, lieferte ich den silbernen Koffer mit den Banu-Symbolen aus. Ich erhielt einen Hungerlohn für meine Bemühungen, der kaum die Fahrt zurück nach Sol bezahlte, damit ich Maria Goranes Scheidungspapiere ausliefern konnte.
Von meiner Last befreit, fühlte ich mich seltsam ruhig. Die beschleunigte Frist war mir ein Klotz am Bein gewesen. Jetzt, wo es vorbei war, fühlte ich mich ein wenig schwerelos.
Ich habe auf dem Rückweg ein paar FTL-Jobs übernommen. Ich hatte meine Bilanz praktisch auf Null gestellt, als ich versuchte, nach Tirol zu kommen, also war es schön, wieder in die positive Richtung zu arbeiten.
Auf dem Weg zum Davien-Sprungpunkt saß ich auf einem Nutzfahrzeug, das durch das Kilian-System fuhr, und drückte meine Nase gegen das coole Aussichtsfenster. Die leuchtenden Sternenschwaden draußen gaben mir das Gefühl, sie zum ersten Mal wieder anzuschauen.
Als ich die winzige Sonne im Zentrum des Systems in der Ferne wachsen sah, erlebte ich die Reise der letzten Tage in meinem Kopf und die harten Wahrheiten, die ich gesehen hatte, während ich vom Sortiervirus verzehrt wurde. Die Worte des Banu über Vita Perry kamen zu mir zurück: Reisen Sie in sich selbst und Sie werden Ihr Ziel erreichen.
Damals verstand ich nicht, was die Banu gemeint hatten, aber nach der verrückten Lieferung hatte ich ein wenig mehr Verständnis. Wie Satchel gesagt hatte, man tauscht immer gegen Probleme. Ich war so damit beschäftigt, genug Credits für mein Aurora LX zu sammeln, dass ich vergessen hatte, warum ich überhaupt Kurier geworden war - um die Galaxie zu sehen.
Wenn ich diesen Weg weitergehen würde, würde ich wie Senet Mehen enden, so konzentriert auf meine Ziele, dass ich den ganzen Grund meiner Reise verpasst habe.
Als ich das Sol-System erreichte, hatte ich mit dem Rückschlag Frieden gefunden. Im Rückblick war es eine erstaunliche, wenn auch erschütternde Erfahrung gewesen, die in gewisser Weise die verlorenen Credits wert war.
Manchmal verliert man einfach. Das war der Weg des Universums. Aber ich würde mich nicht davon abhalten lassen. Trotz des endgültigen Urteils hatte ich mir viel bewiesen.
Die Zustellung der Scheidungspapiere der Gorane in Sol war ein wenig bittersüß. Damit war die Reise zu Ende. Als es vorbei war, zog ich mein mobiGlas hoch und schaltete meine Verfügbarkeit in die 'On'-Position. Ich hatte eine Menge Kreditpunkte nachzuholen.
Erst einige Monate später, nach der verpfuschten Tirol IV-Lieferung, wurde die Sache endgültig abgeschlossen. Ich war gerade auf Ferron gelandet, als ich eine Nachricht von Alara Bonaire erhielt.
Zuerst verwirrte mich der Name, bis ich erkannte, dass es die ehemalige Frau von Abel Gorane war, dem schwachsinnigen Geschäftsmann, vor dem ich sie gerettet hatte.
Grüße Sorri,
Ich hoffe sehr, dass es Ihnen gut geht. Ich kann dir nie wirklich vergelten, was du getan hast. Hätte Abel Maria in das Schiff gebracht, hätte ich sie nie wieder gesehen.
Mein Leben vor der Scheidung war sehr kompliziert, deshalb bin ich froh, meinen Mann los zu sein. Ich versuche, es zu vereinfachen, was mich wiederum an Sie und Ihre Großzügigkeit denken ließ. Ich habe beschlossen, dir Abels altes Schiff "Black Queen" zu vermachen. Er sagte, er hat sie nach mir benannt, aber ich hoffe, sie behandelt dich besser, als er mich je behandelt hat. Sie ist ziemlich erschöpft, kann aber immer noch in die Tiefe gehen. Die Zugangscodes finden Sie am Ende dieser Nachricht, zusammen mit der Hangarnummer. Alles Gute und viel Glück.
Mit freundlichen Grüßen,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. Die ganze Zeit war ich sicher, dass es ein Traum war und dass ich mit kaltem Schweiß bedeckt aufwachen würde.
Aber dann war er da, der Hangar. Es war eine versiegelte Bucht, also ging ich durch die Luftschleuse. Auf Nummer fünfzehn saß ein frühes Modell Aurora ES. Es hatte starke Brandflecken auf der Nase, Lochfraß an den Seiten und die Farbe war verblasst.
Es war kein Schiff, sondern ein fliegender Ball aus Fixierband. Aber wenn der Brief, den ich gerade erhalten habe, wahr ist, dann war es meiner.
Ich ließ einen Schrei los und rannte zur schwarzen Königin. Ein paar Arbeiter in roten Overalls machten Wartungsarbeiten an einer Caterpillar auf der anderen Seite des Hangars. Sie schauten auf meinen Sprint über den harten Bodenbelag. Ich hörte ein paar Lacher, als ich die Nasenpartie umarmte.
Meine Finger zitterten, als ich die Zugangscodes eintippte. Als die Tür aufzischte, konnte ich kaum noch stehen.
Das Innere war ein Wrack. Es gab kaum genug Platz zum Stehen. Der Stuhl des Piloten war aus blankem Metall. Einige der Bedienelemente waren abgeknickt und die Eingeweide von etwas Wichtigem hingen von der Decke.
Ich berührte jede einzelne Oberfläche der schwarzen Königin, innen und außen, und versuchte mir zu beweisen, dass sie echt war. Ich meine, es flugfähig zu machen, würde einige ernsthafte Kredite erfordern, aber nichts im Vergleich zu dem, was ein neues Schiff kosten würde. Ich konnte es nicht glauben. Ich wollte meinem Vater eine Nachricht schicken und ihm sagen, dass ich endlich mein eigenes Schiff habe. Er würde es nicht glauben.
Aber dann erinnerte ich mich an den Zettel, den mir Captain Satchel hinterlassen hatte. Ich bin wieder nach draußen gelaufen, um meinen Rucksack zu holen. Der Brief wurde unten eingeklemmt, die Ecke praktisch abgerissen.
Das Papier im Inneren war dick. Man konnte die Stücke aus der Zeit der Herstellung sehen. Es war ein Blick in die Seele von Captain Satchel. Er hatte meinen Namen mit einem antiken Stift auf die Vorderseite geschrieben. Ich konnte an der Art und Weise erkennen, wie sich die Dicke der Buchstaben mit dem Strich veränderte.
Ich war gerade dabei, den Brief zu lesen, als ich beschloss, dass der richtige Platz auf dem Kapitänsstuhl ist. Meine erste Notiz, von Captain zu Captain.
Ich klappte es auf und bewunderte die Art und Weise, wie das Papier gegen sich selbst kratzte. Dann las ich seine Botschaft laut vor, in die Heiligkeit meines eigenen Schiffes: Schwarze Königin.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Herzlichen Glückwunsch! Ich hoffe, dieser Tag ist eher früher als später, aber so oder so ist er hier. Denkt einfach daran, dass ihr dieses Schiff erst auf die einzige Art und Weise taufen müsst, die ihr kennt, bevor ihr es als euer Schiff beanspruchen könnt.
Dein Freund,
Schulranzen
Ich begriff seine Bedeutung nicht, bis ich mich daran erinnerte, was auf Vengeance Valkyrie passiert war, als wir den Sortier-Virus hatten und in unseren Stühlen gefangen waren. Ich lachte eine ganze Minute lang, bevor ich den gefalteten Ton in einen Riss zwischen den Instrumententafeln steckte.
Es fiel mir wieder auf, was es braucht, um die schwarze Königin in Flugform zu bringen. Zum Glück hatte ich die letzten Monate hart gearbeitet und hatte fast genug, um die Reparaturen zu bezahlen. Schon bald würde ich die gewünschten Aufträge annehmen können, da ich nicht an Schiffsfahrpläne und vorgegebene Kurierrouten gebunden wäre.
Ein Stich des Bedauerns traf mich in den Bauch, als ich darüber nachdachte. Während ich in meinem eigenen Schiff wäre, würde ich nicht mehr durch die besiedelten Sternenhäfen und schwimmenden Stationen reisen. Stattdessen wäre ich in einer Stahldose eingesperrt, genau wie Senet Mehen. Ich meine, war das nicht der Grund, warum ich überhaupt Kurierdienst gemacht habe? Um Leute zu treffen?
Plötzlich schien die schwarze Königin ein einsamer Ort zu sein. Was zum Teufel habe ich mir dabei gedacht? Dafür hatte ich so hart gearbeitet und war nun voller Zweifel?
Ich saß eine halbe Stunde lang und überlegte mir meine Optionen, bevor ich endlich eine Lösung fand, die mehrere Probleme auf einmal löste. Ein kurzes Antippen meines Mobis brachte den Nachrichten-Link zum Vorschein.
Liebe Betrix, ich habe angefangen zu tippen, mir ist klar, dass dieses Angebot etwas seltsam erscheinen mag, aber ich habe jetzt mein eigenes Schiff. Bestimmte Aspekte der Operation würden mit einer zweiten Person reibungsloser ablaufen. Sind Sie daran interessiert, mein Erster Offizier zu werden?
Das Ende
Chinese
Writer’s Note: The Second Run: A Sorri Lyrax Delivery (Part Four) was published originally in Jump Point 4.4. You can read Part One here, Part Two here, and Part Three here.
Part 4: Sometimes You Just Lose
[ 18:06:18 ]
Vengeance Valkyrie headed towards the Helios-Tyrol jump point, while Captain Satchel and I stared in quiet desperation at the piles of orange pieces in his lap. He had the sorting virus, which he’d probably gotten from the fruit vendor, which meant I had it too.
Not making the delivery was the least of my worries. We were in mortal danger if we couldn’t protect the ship from ourselves.
“How long ago did you purchase that fruit?” I asked.
He looked like he was visibly trying not to pick up his orange pieces. His jaw pulsed.
“About two hours ago,” he said with considerable effort.
“That means we’ve got about two hours until I start showing signs, maybe less depending if body weight matters,” I said, tapping my fingers against my chin.
Captain Satchel started to reach out towards the controls. I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“That depends on what you’re doing,” I replied. “I watched some guy tip over a vending machine and start ripping out its guts. If you do that, we’re screwed.”
“Setting the quantum to get us to the jump point,” he said.
“Okay, set the course, then I’ll tie you up in the take-off chair,” I said, eyeing his movements carefully.
As he input our destination, he said, “There’s some straps in the back, in the side compartment under the emergency rations.”
I went into the secondary cabin and found some familiar looking black straps. “If we get through this, there’s a Sojourner I met who I think you’d like.”
Satchel finished setting coordinates and moved to the take-off chair. He put the straps around his broad chest and clicked in. I wrapped the rope around his arms, while he watched me with his brown-with-gold-flecked eyes.
“I know this is a serious situation, but I’ve got to say I’m sort of enjoying this part,” he said with a wink.
“Is this the part where I take advantage of you?” I asked, and before he could answer, I leaned down and gave him a deep kiss.
We stared at each other until I broke eye contact. “Never get distracted,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got to figure out what to do before the virus hits me.”
Satchel looked forlorn. He was twitching against his ropes. His fingers were picking at the seat leather. “Do you know how long this will last? If I keep having to notice how much my ship is a disgusting, disorganized mess, not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable aboard again.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “It could be hours or days. But maybe I can set the system to get us to Tyrol IV, so at least we can be moving while we do that.”
He was straining at the ropes. His face was hard with distress. He spoke through gritted teeth.
“That won’t work. You have to set the destination after a jump. That wonky space between throws off the coordinates. And the shield power light is blinking wrong,” he said.
“Wrong?” I turned to look in a panic.
“Wrong. It should be every half second. Its timing’s off. Should be blinking now . . . now . . . now! See! I have to fix it!”
I watched him struggle, realizing that we’d barely gotten him tied down before the virus really hit. Had we waited a few more minutes, he’d be ripping into the ship and I would have had a hard time trying to stop him since he was twice my size.
“Crite,” I said, back at the side panel, “there’s no more rope. Not that it matters. If I’m tied when we hit Tyrol, I won’t be able to reset the ship. But if I don’t tie myself up somehow, I’ll tear apart the ship and we’ll likely die.”
Satchel couldn’t speak. His neck strained like steel cords as he tried to get out of the chair.
I said, “We can’t ask for help from Tangaroa either, since we broke quarantine, and no one will want to touch us.”
I kicked the side panel and put my head in my hands. “Why this time? Why does it always have to be so hard? I struggle and struggle and do everything I can, and now, even if I can find a way to tie myself up, we won’t reach Tyrol IV in time. Which means after all the fees I’ve paid, I’ll be back at day zero at FTL. Everything I’ve done for the last year will have been for nothing. Maybe Betrix was right. My rules are stupid. All they’ve done is convinced me that I could make this happen. Never travel empty handed. Nothing illegal. Official routes are for suckers. Never get distracted! Never stop thinking. Act like you know. We’ll now I’m adding a seventh rule: Sometimes you just lose.”
It ached like there was a solar flare in my chest. It ached because it was true. Sometimes you did just lose. It was a lesson I’d learned playing cards with my father after hours in the bar. Sometimes it didn’t matter how you played them or in what sequence. Sometimes the cards stacked up in a way that left you with no outs.
That’s how I felt. A girl with no outs.
Poor Captain Satchel was frothing at the mouth. That was going to be me soon enough. I grabbed a rag and wiped his cheek. He thanked me with his eyes, though they were ringed with pain.
Since the captain couldn’t speak anymore, I started searching the ship for something I could use as rope. In his cargo bay, I found netting, which I liberated with a slice of a knife. If I rolled it up, it would make do as a way to subdue me. But how does one tie up oneself?
I found the answer in a little metal box with a hook sticking out the end. It had a magnet base and was used for pulling things into the cargo bay.
I took my netting and auto-pulley back into the main cabin. I had planned on tying myself to the foldout bed, but I’d have no leverage with the pulley. I wanted to avoid the captain’s chair, but had no choice since there were no other seats in the ship.
After an hour and a half of modification, I had everything set up and was sitting in the captain’s chair with a long pole in my hand. The netting was loose around my body. I had to be careful that when it tightened that it didn’t strangle me. Once I hit the auto-pulley, I’d have no way to stop it.
I gave the captain a wipe down before I returned to my seat. He looked drained from his efforts. I think a few times he’d gotten cramps from his muscles being so tight, but it was hard to hear the screaming through the clenched teeth.
Before I returned to the chair, I realized something about the captain. His arms were straining as if he were trying to lift a truck, but his legs were almost perfectly still.
While I still had my faculties, I modified my netting to give my right leg some motion and took off my boot and sock. Sitting in the chair, with the netting loose around my body, I leaned back and hit the button on the auto-pulley.
Immediately, the net started to collapse around me. I threw the pole away and carefully arranged my arms so they couldn’t get loose. The strings pulled tight against my body, almost painfully so, and I worried that I’d set it up wrong, that I’d cut off the blood circulation like a tourniquet and would come out of this a quadriplegic. But then the motor stopped humming and the net was tight, but not overly painfully.
I checked the motion of my right leg. I had enough room to reach the controls. Once we hit Tyrol system, I could type in the new destination, assuming the captain was capable of speaking at that time. Or that I was for that matter.
[ 15:13:59 ]
As the minutes ticked by and the sorting virus symptoms I was expecting were nowhere in sight, I worried that I had tied myself up needlessly. Another minute rolled past. I sighed, releasing the tension I had been holding. We were going to be fine.
My hands began to work at the closest knot in the net. If I could maybe just free enough space, then I could reach the release. As I pulled at the nylon strands the distance between the knot I was working on and the next shrank, throwing the net’s grid out alignment. I dropped my knot to try to even out the ones around it, but the imbalance just spread. I was making it worse.
I would have to take the whole net apart and retie the entire thing. It was the only way to ensure it was perfect. Then I could finally focus on putting the rest of the cabin to order and place everything into their proper groups. Why hadn’t we put them in their places before? The world was madness in this state! That anything existed so mixed up and confused threw my thoughts into disarray.
But when I couldn’t get to them — tear into them with my hands, rip them apart and get them back to where they should be, I started to convulse. I’m not sure when the first spasms happened, but when they did I thought I would pass out. Wished I would pass out, since that would give me relief from the pain.
My whole upper body strained and pulled. I pushed at the netting, desiring with every bit of my being to use my hands to destroy the ship. Why was I being denied!
When I couldn’t change the chaos around me, my mind began to focus in on itself. I saw the mess I had made out of my life. All the pieces that didn’t fit. All the things I had done wrong. How my love of adventure had been replaced by a ruthless drive. I turned every decision I ever made over and over, the virus forcing me to dive deeper and deeper into myself.
The next minutes, hours, days? — I couldn’t tell — went on as one rolling ball of misery. At some point, I realized Vengeance Valkyrie had passed into Tyrol space, but I could not find the focus to set the coordinates.
Some time later, I heard someone speaking to me, which was either Captain Satchel, or a hallucination. At other times, I thought I was back at the Golden Horde, or on Dodecahedron with Senet Mehen, or on Night Stalker with Burnett. Hundreds of ship names filled my mind, and I wanted to sort them too.
Eventually, I became aware that Captain Satchel was speaking to me in a hoarse voice.
“Sorri. Sorri. Are you awake?” he asked.
He sounded like he’d been gargling razors.
“Yeah,” I said, though it came out as a whisper. Every muscle in my body ached. I still had the urge to sort, but it wasn’t as strong as before. More like the itch of infection, rather than the madness of insanity.
“We’ve been sitting outside the Tyrol-Helios jump point for about eight hours,” he said.
“Eight hours?” I repeated, and after a quick calculation, I figured there was still time to make it to Tyrol IV. Maybe. “Tell me what the coordinates are and I’ll type them in with my foot.”
[ 07:19:44 ]
After a brief back and forth, Satchel explained what to do, and the ship lurched into motion. We were moving again.
“That’ll get us to Tyrol IV,” he said.
I tried to relax, but I had a painful pressure on my bladder. “I have to pee.”
“Go ahead,” said Satchel.
“Oh. Is that . . . okay?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a little cold now, but better than the alternative. Unless you can get us out of these bindings,” he said.
“I’m not sure that’s wise yet, even if I did know how,” I said. “I’ll just have to add peeing the captain’s chair to the long list of horrible new experiences I’ve had on this run.”
“What’s so important about this delivery?” asked the captain.
“I have no idea. Just that it’s not illegal,” I said.
“Oh yeah, your rules. You talked about them a bit while you were out of it. I liked them. But I don’t mean the case. I mean for you and Betrix?” he asked.
“Betrix,” I said, in a half-laugh.
“You’re not really partners are you?” he asked.
At this point, I didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially after we’d gone through so much.
“No,” I said. “Though I did offer to partner with her. She declined, of course.”
“You still haven’t explained why the delivery is so important,” he said, asking me the same question I had asked Betrix what seemed like ages ago.
“Freedom. See the galaxy. Prove to my father that I can make it on my own,” I said.
“All that from this delivery?” he asked.
“I want to buy a ship. This will get me a little closer,” I said.
“Will it?” he asked, which took me aback.
“Don’t you feel free with your own ship?” I asked.
Captain Satchel was quiet for a bit before he spoke. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade Vengeance Valkyrie for anything, but I still have problems with bills, fuel charges, customs fees, crazy deliveries that tie me up and make me pee myself,” — we shared a laugh — “finding new work, dealing with maintenance. Sometimes, I miss the days when I was just a fresh-faced courier with only the delivery itself to worry about.”
“You were a courier?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I worked for a few different companies. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Deliveries. Though they went belly-up about a decade ago, but I’d gotten my ship by then. Picked up some of the contracts they dropped, which helped me out of the gate.”
“I still want my own ship,” I said softly.
He said, “Just remember that you always trade up for problems, so don’t forget to enjoy the ride while you’re on it.”
“Thanks,” I said, but I didn’t really mean it.
“So are we going to make it?” he asked.
“It’s going to be tight,” I said.
He chuckled. “Well, we can’t let you miss it. I can squeeze some more speed out of this beast if you’re willing to do some fancy footwork.”
My chest filled with hope. “Instruct away!”
It didn’t take long to make Vengeance Valkyrie increase her speed by twenty percent, which would get us to Tyrol IV with an hour to spare. The delivery was at the floating starport, which made getting it to its destination easier.
With another six hours of travel ahead of us, we spent the time talking about our experiences as couriers. Satchel did the majority of the talking, since he was older, but I impressed him with the tales of my first run.
We even figured out a way to get out of the bindings when we arrived at Tyrol IV. I typed in a message to the ship maintenance service on the station, requesting some in-cabin support once we arrived. We knew we’d get funny looks once they came through the airlock and found us tied up and soaking wet, but it was better than being stuck.
The final few hours were excruciating, until we neared enough that I was too busy running the ship with the big toe on my right foot to worry about if I was going to make it or not. Docking was tricky, but Satchel was an excellent instructor and he talked me through the procedure like a pro.
Once the maintenance team arrived and cut us out of the bindings, I was going to grab the case and sprint to the delivery point. I couldn’t believe that I was going to make it.
[ 1:05:21 ]
As the airlock squealed open, I could barely hold myself together. I felt like a sprinter at the beginning of a race, waiting for the starting gun to fire.
I heard Satchel greet the maintenance team. “Hi, fellas. This might look a little weird but . . .” When his voice trailed off to nothing, I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t turn my head enough, but when I saw the yellow reflection on the interior glass I knew what had happened.
A modulated voice came through a bio-suit, “We were notified of Vengeance Valkyrie breaking quarantine at Tangaroa. We will be taking you into custody until the virus has run its course and the ship has been cleaned.”
“No! No! I can’t. I have a delivery to make. It’s right here in the station. It’s that case beneath the take-off chair,” I said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Nothing will leave this ship until it’s been cleaned. We have strict orders,” said the man in the bio-suit. “Please cooperate and you won’t face any additional punishments.”
It was finished. I’d lost. I was at the station, probably a few hundred feet from my goal, and I wouldn’t make it. I could conceive of no way to break this quarantine without risking the UEE’s wrath.
[ 00:00:00 ]
I don’t remember being taken off the ship in a bio-bubble, except that Satchel told me. The station didn’t have a bio-confinement area, so they cleared out a hangar and draped it in plastic. After they confirmed we weren’t carrying the virus any more, I imagine they put the plastic into an incinerator.
At least they’d let us keep our mobiGlas, as long as we promised not to cause trouble. We’d also been given light blue jumpsuits after they put us through an enviro-shower. My skin was still raw from the scrubbing.
Once we’d gotten settled, I contacted the delivery location in hopes that I could still make it, but they said the Banu trader that had been waiting for it had already left. I was to leave the case with them. During the waiting, Satchel contacted some old friends of his in FTL that had risen in the ranks after he left. He cashed in a few favors to get my jobs transferred so I wouldn’t get fired.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him after he told me what he’d done.
“I was rooting for you,” he said. “I really thought we’d get you to your delivery on time.”
“But this has been a huge inconvenience for you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I got paid a tidy sum for the job. And luckily I was able to persuade them that the virus was to blame for us breaking quarantine, so they won’t be pressing charges.”
“Things could be worse,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“I have one question for you, Sorri. What should I do about Betrix?” he asked as he studied me closely.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Betrix is the one that hired me. It’s in the logs. If word got out to FTL that she was doing independent contracts, she’d probably lose her job,” he said.
A chill formed at the back of my neck. With a few simple words, I could remove a thorn from my side, banishing Betrix LaGrange from FTL and probably the courier ranks forever. I’d also be crushing her dreams.
“No,” I said, thinking of what Betrix had told me about why she wanted a ship of her own. “No. We’re rivals, not enemies. I don’t hate her.”
“Even after what she tried to do to you? I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think you deserved your revenge,” he said.
“No. I’m sure. She clearly has some issues, but I don’t want to do that to her,” I said. “Plus, there’s something not right about getting her fired for doing almost the same thing I am.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Fair enough.”
After another day of waiting in the make-shift room, we were cleaned again and allowed to leave with an official warning. I counted myself lucky that was all they’d done.
I collected my things from Vengeance Valkyrie, including the troublesome case. Before I left, Satchel handed me a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it whenever you finally get your first ship,” he said with a wink.
I sighed. “That’s going to be a long time from now.”
“Probably,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it happen sooner than you think. You got really unlucky on this delivery.”
Not one for long goodbyes, I left Satchel at his ship. Plus there was a small chance I might see him again in the near future. He’d promised to give me a deal on rides with him if I needed a ship for a freelance job. I knew it was unlikely, given the size of the galaxy, but it was a nice gesture.
Before I left Tyrol IV, I delivered the silvery case with the Banu symbols. I was awarded a pittance for my efforts, which barely paid for the ride back to Sol so I could deliver Maria Gorane’s divorce papers.
Relieved of my burden, I felt strangely at peace. The accelerated deadline had been a weight around my neck. Now that it was over, I felt a little weightless.
I picked up a few FTL jobs on the way back. I’d practically zeroed out my balance trying to get to Tyrol, so it was nice to be working in the positive direction again.
Sitting on a commercial transport heading through the Kilian system on my way to Davien jump point, I pressed my nose against the cool viewport. The brilliant swath of stars outside made me feel like I was looking at them for the first time again.
As I watched the tiny sun at the center of the system grow in the distance, I relived the journey of the past few days in my mind and the harsh truths I had seen while consumed by the sorting virus. The words of the Banu on Vita Perry came back to me: Journey within yourself and you will reach your destination.
I didn’t understand what the Banu had meant then, but after the crazy delivery I had a little more understanding. As Satchel had said, you always trade up for problems. I was so busy trying to earn enough credits for my Aurora LX, that I’d forgotten why I’d become a courier in the first place — to see the galaxy.
If I kept going down that path, I’d end up like Senet Mehen, so focused on my goals that I missed the whole reason I was making the journey.
By the time I reached the Sol system, I’d become at peace with the setback. In retrospect, it had been an amazing, if harrowing, experience that was in some ways worth the lost credits.
Sometimes you just lose. That was the way of the Universe. But I wouldn’t let it hold me back. Despite the final verdict, I’d proved a lot to myself.
The delivery of the Gorane divorce papers in Sol was a little bittersweet. It wrapped up the journey. Once it was over, I pulled up my mobiGlas and toggled my availability into the ‘On’ position. I had a lot of credits to make up.
It wasn’t until a few months later after the botched Tyrol IV delivery that things finally and truly wrapped up. I had just landed on Ferron when I received a message from Alara Bonaire.
At first the name confused me until I realized it was the former wife of Abel Gorane, the cretin businessman I’d rescued her from.
Greetings Sorri,
I dearly hope things are well for you. I can never truly repay you for what you did. Had Abel gotten Maria into the ship, I would have never seen her again.
My life before divorce was very complicated, so I’m glad to be rid of my husband. I’m trying to simplify, which in turn, made me think of you and your generosity. I’ve decided to bequeath you Abel’s old ship Black Queen. He said he named it after me, but I hope she treats you better than he ever treated me. She’s pretty worn down, but can still tread the deep skies. You’ll find the entry codes at the bottom of this message, along with the hangar number. Be well and good luck.
Warmest regards,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. The whole way I was certain that it was a dream and that I would wake up, covered in a cold sweat.
But then it was there, the hangar. It was a sealed bay, so I went through the airlock. Sitting at number fifteen was an early model Aurora ES. It had heavy burn marks on the nose, pitting along the sides, and the color was faded.
It wasn’t a ship, but a flying ball of fixer’s tape. But if the letter I’d just received was true, then it was mine.
I let out a whoop and went running for Black Queen. There were a few workers in red jumpsuits doing maintenance on a Caterpillar on the other side of the hangar. They glanced up at my sprint across the hard flooring. I heard a few chuckles when I hugged the nose section.
My fingers trembled as I punched in the access codes. When the door whooshed open, I could barely stand still.
The inside was a wreck. There was barely enough room to stand. The pilot’s chair was bare metal. Some of the controls were chipped and the guts of something important were hanging from the ceiling.
I touched each and every surface of Black Queen, inside and out, trying to prove to myself that it was real. I mean, getting it flight worthy was going to take some serious credits, but nothing like what a new ship would cost. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to send a message to my father and tell him that I finally had my own ship. He wouldn’t believe it.
But then I remembered the note that Captain Satchel had left me. I went running back outside to grab my knapsack. The letter was jammed into the bottom, the corner practically ripped off.
The paper inside was thick. You could see the chunks from when it was made. It was a glimpse into the soul of Captain Satchel. He’d written my name on the front using an antique pen. I could tell by the way the thickness of the letters changed with the stroke.
I was about to read the letter when I decided the proper location was in the captain’s chair. My first note, captain to captain.
I flipped it open, admiring the way the paper scraped against itself. Then I read his message out loud, into the sanctity of my own ship: Black Queen.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Congratulations! I hope this day is sooner rather than later but either way it’s here. Just remember that before you can claim this ship as yours, you must christen it in the only way you know how.
Your friend,
Satchel
I didn’t catch his meaning until I remembered what had happened on Vengeance Valkyrie when we’d had the sorting virus and were trapped in our chairs. I laughed for a full minute before I tucked the folded note into a crack between the instrument panels.
It struck me again what it would take to get Black Queen into flying shape. Thankfully I’d been working hard the last few months and had almost enough to pay for the repairs. Soon enough I’d be able to take the jobs I wanted, since I wouldn’t be tied to ship schedules and predetermined courier routes.
A stab of regret hit me in the gut as I thought about it. While I’d be in my own ship, I’d no longer be traveling through the populated star ports and floating stations. Instead, I’d be locked in a steel can, just like Senet Mehen. I mean, wasn’t that the reason that I’d become a courier in the first place? To meet people?
Suddenly, Black Queen seemed like a lonely place. What the heck was I thinking? This is what I had worked so hard for and now I was full of doubt?
I sat for a half hour considering my options before I finally came up with a solution that solved a couple of problems at once. A quick tap on my mobi brought up the message link.
Dear Betrix, I started typing, I realize this offer might seem rather strange, but I have my own ship now. Certain aspects of the operation would run smoother with a second person. Are you interested in being my First Mate?
The End
Part 4: Sometimes You Just Lose
[ 18:06:18 ]
Vengeance Valkyrie headed towards the Helios-Tyrol jump point, while Captain Satchel and I stared in quiet desperation at the piles of orange pieces in his lap. He had the sorting virus, which he’d probably gotten from the fruit vendor, which meant I had it too.
Not making the delivery was the least of my worries. We were in mortal danger if we couldn’t protect the ship from ourselves.
“How long ago did you purchase that fruit?” I asked.
He looked like he was visibly trying not to pick up his orange pieces. His jaw pulsed.
“About two hours ago,” he said with considerable effort.
“That means we’ve got about two hours until I start showing signs, maybe less depending if body weight matters,” I said, tapping my fingers against my chin.
Captain Satchel started to reach out towards the controls. I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“That depends on what you’re doing,” I replied. “I watched some guy tip over a vending machine and start ripping out its guts. If you do that, we’re screwed.”
“Setting the quantum to get us to the jump point,” he said.
“Okay, set the course, then I’ll tie you up in the take-off chair,” I said, eyeing his movements carefully.
As he input our destination, he said, “There’s some straps in the back, in the side compartment under the emergency rations.”
I went into the secondary cabin and found some familiar looking black straps. “If we get through this, there’s a Sojourner I met who I think you’d like.”
Satchel finished setting coordinates and moved to the take-off chair. He put the straps around his broad chest and clicked in. I wrapped the rope around his arms, while he watched me with his brown-with-gold-flecked eyes.
“I know this is a serious situation, but I’ve got to say I’m sort of enjoying this part,” he said with a wink.
“Is this the part where I take advantage of you?” I asked, and before he could answer, I leaned down and gave him a deep kiss.
We stared at each other until I broke eye contact. “Never get distracted,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got to figure out what to do before the virus hits me.”
Satchel looked forlorn. He was twitching against his ropes. His fingers were picking at the seat leather. “Do you know how long this will last? If I keep having to notice how much my ship is a disgusting, disorganized mess, not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable aboard again.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “It could be hours or days. But maybe I can set the system to get us to Tyrol IV, so at least we can be moving while we do that.”
He was straining at the ropes. His face was hard with distress. He spoke through gritted teeth.
“That won’t work. You have to set the destination after a jump. That wonky space between throws off the coordinates. And the shield power light is blinking wrong,” he said.
“Wrong?” I turned to look in a panic.
“Wrong. It should be every half second. Its timing’s off. Should be blinking now . . . now . . . now! See! I have to fix it!”
I watched him struggle, realizing that we’d barely gotten him tied down before the virus really hit. Had we waited a few more minutes, he’d be ripping into the ship and I would have had a hard time trying to stop him since he was twice my size.
“Crite,” I said, back at the side panel, “there’s no more rope. Not that it matters. If I’m tied when we hit Tyrol, I won’t be able to reset the ship. But if I don’t tie myself up somehow, I’ll tear apart the ship and we’ll likely die.”
Satchel couldn’t speak. His neck strained like steel cords as he tried to get out of the chair.
I said, “We can’t ask for help from Tangaroa either, since we broke quarantine, and no one will want to touch us.”
I kicked the side panel and put my head in my hands. “Why this time? Why does it always have to be so hard? I struggle and struggle and do everything I can, and now, even if I can find a way to tie myself up, we won’t reach Tyrol IV in time. Which means after all the fees I’ve paid, I’ll be back at day zero at FTL. Everything I’ve done for the last year will have been for nothing. Maybe Betrix was right. My rules are stupid. All they’ve done is convinced me that I could make this happen. Never travel empty handed. Nothing illegal. Official routes are for suckers. Never get distracted! Never stop thinking. Act like you know. We’ll now I’m adding a seventh rule: Sometimes you just lose.”
It ached like there was a solar flare in my chest. It ached because it was true. Sometimes you did just lose. It was a lesson I’d learned playing cards with my father after hours in the bar. Sometimes it didn’t matter how you played them or in what sequence. Sometimes the cards stacked up in a way that left you with no outs.
That’s how I felt. A girl with no outs.
Poor Captain Satchel was frothing at the mouth. That was going to be me soon enough. I grabbed a rag and wiped his cheek. He thanked me with his eyes, though they were ringed with pain.
Since the captain couldn’t speak anymore, I started searching the ship for something I could use as rope. In his cargo bay, I found netting, which I liberated with a slice of a knife. If I rolled it up, it would make do as a way to subdue me. But how does one tie up oneself?
I found the answer in a little metal box with a hook sticking out the end. It had a magnet base and was used for pulling things into the cargo bay.
I took my netting and auto-pulley back into the main cabin. I had planned on tying myself to the foldout bed, but I’d have no leverage with the pulley. I wanted to avoid the captain’s chair, but had no choice since there were no other seats in the ship.
After an hour and a half of modification, I had everything set up and was sitting in the captain’s chair with a long pole in my hand. The netting was loose around my body. I had to be careful that when it tightened that it didn’t strangle me. Once I hit the auto-pulley, I’d have no way to stop it.
I gave the captain a wipe down before I returned to my seat. He looked drained from his efforts. I think a few times he’d gotten cramps from his muscles being so tight, but it was hard to hear the screaming through the clenched teeth.
Before I returned to the chair, I realized something about the captain. His arms were straining as if he were trying to lift a truck, but his legs were almost perfectly still.
While I still had my faculties, I modified my netting to give my right leg some motion and took off my boot and sock. Sitting in the chair, with the netting loose around my body, I leaned back and hit the button on the auto-pulley.
Immediately, the net started to collapse around me. I threw the pole away and carefully arranged my arms so they couldn’t get loose. The strings pulled tight against my body, almost painfully so, and I worried that I’d set it up wrong, that I’d cut off the blood circulation like a tourniquet and would come out of this a quadriplegic. But then the motor stopped humming and the net was tight, but not overly painfully.
I checked the motion of my right leg. I had enough room to reach the controls. Once we hit Tyrol system, I could type in the new destination, assuming the captain was capable of speaking at that time. Or that I was for that matter.
[ 15:13:59 ]
As the minutes ticked by and the sorting virus symptoms I was expecting were nowhere in sight, I worried that I had tied myself up needlessly. Another minute rolled past. I sighed, releasing the tension I had been holding. We were going to be fine.
My hands began to work at the closest knot in the net. If I could maybe just free enough space, then I could reach the release. As I pulled at the nylon strands the distance between the knot I was working on and the next shrank, throwing the net’s grid out alignment. I dropped my knot to try to even out the ones around it, but the imbalance just spread. I was making it worse.
I would have to take the whole net apart and retie the entire thing. It was the only way to ensure it was perfect. Then I could finally focus on putting the rest of the cabin to order and place everything into their proper groups. Why hadn’t we put them in their places before? The world was madness in this state! That anything existed so mixed up and confused threw my thoughts into disarray.
But when I couldn’t get to them — tear into them with my hands, rip them apart and get them back to where they should be, I started to convulse. I’m not sure when the first spasms happened, but when they did I thought I would pass out. Wished I would pass out, since that would give me relief from the pain.
My whole upper body strained and pulled. I pushed at the netting, desiring with every bit of my being to use my hands to destroy the ship. Why was I being denied!
When I couldn’t change the chaos around me, my mind began to focus in on itself. I saw the mess I had made out of my life. All the pieces that didn’t fit. All the things I had done wrong. How my love of adventure had been replaced by a ruthless drive. I turned every decision I ever made over and over, the virus forcing me to dive deeper and deeper into myself.
The next minutes, hours, days? — I couldn’t tell — went on as one rolling ball of misery. At some point, I realized Vengeance Valkyrie had passed into Tyrol space, but I could not find the focus to set the coordinates.
Some time later, I heard someone speaking to me, which was either Captain Satchel, or a hallucination. At other times, I thought I was back at the Golden Horde, or on Dodecahedron with Senet Mehen, or on Night Stalker with Burnett. Hundreds of ship names filled my mind, and I wanted to sort them too.
Eventually, I became aware that Captain Satchel was speaking to me in a hoarse voice.
“Sorri. Sorri. Are you awake?” he asked.
He sounded like he’d been gargling razors.
“Yeah,” I said, though it came out as a whisper. Every muscle in my body ached. I still had the urge to sort, but it wasn’t as strong as before. More like the itch of infection, rather than the madness of insanity.
“We’ve been sitting outside the Tyrol-Helios jump point for about eight hours,” he said.
“Eight hours?” I repeated, and after a quick calculation, I figured there was still time to make it to Tyrol IV. Maybe. “Tell me what the coordinates are and I’ll type them in with my foot.”
[ 07:19:44 ]
After a brief back and forth, Satchel explained what to do, and the ship lurched into motion. We were moving again.
“That’ll get us to Tyrol IV,” he said.
I tried to relax, but I had a painful pressure on my bladder. “I have to pee.”
“Go ahead,” said Satchel.
“Oh. Is that . . . okay?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a little cold now, but better than the alternative. Unless you can get us out of these bindings,” he said.
“I’m not sure that’s wise yet, even if I did know how,” I said. “I’ll just have to add peeing the captain’s chair to the long list of horrible new experiences I’ve had on this run.”
“What’s so important about this delivery?” asked the captain.
“I have no idea. Just that it’s not illegal,” I said.
“Oh yeah, your rules. You talked about them a bit while you were out of it. I liked them. But I don’t mean the case. I mean for you and Betrix?” he asked.
“Betrix,” I said, in a half-laugh.
“You’re not really partners are you?” he asked.
At this point, I didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially after we’d gone through so much.
“No,” I said. “Though I did offer to partner with her. She declined, of course.”
“You still haven’t explained why the delivery is so important,” he said, asking me the same question I had asked Betrix what seemed like ages ago.
“Freedom. See the galaxy. Prove to my father that I can make it on my own,” I said.
“All that from this delivery?” he asked.
“I want to buy a ship. This will get me a little closer,” I said.
“Will it?” he asked, which took me aback.
“Don’t you feel free with your own ship?” I asked.
Captain Satchel was quiet for a bit before he spoke. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade Vengeance Valkyrie for anything, but I still have problems with bills, fuel charges, customs fees, crazy deliveries that tie me up and make me pee myself,” — we shared a laugh — “finding new work, dealing with maintenance. Sometimes, I miss the days when I was just a fresh-faced courier with only the delivery itself to worry about.”
“You were a courier?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I worked for a few different companies. FTL. United Couriers. Blue Streak Deliveries. Though they went belly-up about a decade ago, but I’d gotten my ship by then. Picked up some of the contracts they dropped, which helped me out of the gate.”
“I still want my own ship,” I said softly.
He said, “Just remember that you always trade up for problems, so don’t forget to enjoy the ride while you’re on it.”
“Thanks,” I said, but I didn’t really mean it.
“So are we going to make it?” he asked.
“It’s going to be tight,” I said.
He chuckled. “Well, we can’t let you miss it. I can squeeze some more speed out of this beast if you’re willing to do some fancy footwork.”
My chest filled with hope. “Instruct away!”
It didn’t take long to make Vengeance Valkyrie increase her speed by twenty percent, which would get us to Tyrol IV with an hour to spare. The delivery was at the floating starport, which made getting it to its destination easier.
With another six hours of travel ahead of us, we spent the time talking about our experiences as couriers. Satchel did the majority of the talking, since he was older, but I impressed him with the tales of my first run.
We even figured out a way to get out of the bindings when we arrived at Tyrol IV. I typed in a message to the ship maintenance service on the station, requesting some in-cabin support once we arrived. We knew we’d get funny looks once they came through the airlock and found us tied up and soaking wet, but it was better than being stuck.
The final few hours were excruciating, until we neared enough that I was too busy running the ship with the big toe on my right foot to worry about if I was going to make it or not. Docking was tricky, but Satchel was an excellent instructor and he talked me through the procedure like a pro.
Once the maintenance team arrived and cut us out of the bindings, I was going to grab the case and sprint to the delivery point. I couldn’t believe that I was going to make it.
[ 1:05:21 ]
As the airlock squealed open, I could barely hold myself together. I felt like a sprinter at the beginning of a race, waiting for the starting gun to fire.
I heard Satchel greet the maintenance team. “Hi, fellas. This might look a little weird but . . .” When his voice trailed off to nothing, I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t turn my head enough, but when I saw the yellow reflection on the interior glass I knew what had happened.
A modulated voice came through a bio-suit, “We were notified of Vengeance Valkyrie breaking quarantine at Tangaroa. We will be taking you into custody until the virus has run its course and the ship has been cleaned.”
“No! No! I can’t. I have a delivery to make. It’s right here in the station. It’s that case beneath the take-off chair,” I said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Nothing will leave this ship until it’s been cleaned. We have strict orders,” said the man in the bio-suit. “Please cooperate and you won’t face any additional punishments.”
It was finished. I’d lost. I was at the station, probably a few hundred feet from my goal, and I wouldn’t make it. I could conceive of no way to break this quarantine without risking the UEE’s wrath.
[ 00:00:00 ]
I don’t remember being taken off the ship in a bio-bubble, except that Satchel told me. The station didn’t have a bio-confinement area, so they cleared out a hangar and draped it in plastic. After they confirmed we weren’t carrying the virus any more, I imagine they put the plastic into an incinerator.
At least they’d let us keep our mobiGlas, as long as we promised not to cause trouble. We’d also been given light blue jumpsuits after they put us through an enviro-shower. My skin was still raw from the scrubbing.
Once we’d gotten settled, I contacted the delivery location in hopes that I could still make it, but they said the Banu trader that had been waiting for it had already left. I was to leave the case with them. During the waiting, Satchel contacted some old friends of his in FTL that had risen in the ranks after he left. He cashed in a few favors to get my jobs transferred so I wouldn’t get fired.
“Why did you do that?” I asked him after he told me what he’d done.
“I was rooting for you,” he said. “I really thought we’d get you to your delivery on time.”
“But this has been a huge inconvenience for you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I got paid a tidy sum for the job. And luckily I was able to persuade them that the virus was to blame for us breaking quarantine, so they won’t be pressing charges.”
“Things could be worse,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“I have one question for you, Sorri. What should I do about Betrix?” he asked as he studied me closely.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Betrix is the one that hired me. It’s in the logs. If word got out to FTL that she was doing independent contracts, she’d probably lose her job,” he said.
A chill formed at the back of my neck. With a few simple words, I could remove a thorn from my side, banishing Betrix LaGrange from FTL and probably the courier ranks forever. I’d also be crushing her dreams.
“No,” I said, thinking of what Betrix had told me about why she wanted a ship of her own. “No. We’re rivals, not enemies. I don’t hate her.”
“Even after what she tried to do to you? I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think you deserved your revenge,” he said.
“No. I’m sure. She clearly has some issues, but I don’t want to do that to her,” I said. “Plus, there’s something not right about getting her fired for doing almost the same thing I am.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “Fair enough.”
After another day of waiting in the make-shift room, we were cleaned again and allowed to leave with an official warning. I counted myself lucky that was all they’d done.
I collected my things from Vengeance Valkyrie, including the troublesome case. Before I left, Satchel handed me a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it whenever you finally get your first ship,” he said with a wink.
I sighed. “That’s going to be a long time from now.”
“Probably,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it happen sooner than you think. You got really unlucky on this delivery.”
Not one for long goodbyes, I left Satchel at his ship. Plus there was a small chance I might see him again in the near future. He’d promised to give me a deal on rides with him if I needed a ship for a freelance job. I knew it was unlikely, given the size of the galaxy, but it was a nice gesture.
Before I left Tyrol IV, I delivered the silvery case with the Banu symbols. I was awarded a pittance for my efforts, which barely paid for the ride back to Sol so I could deliver Maria Gorane’s divorce papers.
Relieved of my burden, I felt strangely at peace. The accelerated deadline had been a weight around my neck. Now that it was over, I felt a little weightless.
I picked up a few FTL jobs on the way back. I’d practically zeroed out my balance trying to get to Tyrol, so it was nice to be working in the positive direction again.
Sitting on a commercial transport heading through the Kilian system on my way to Davien jump point, I pressed my nose against the cool viewport. The brilliant swath of stars outside made me feel like I was looking at them for the first time again.
As I watched the tiny sun at the center of the system grow in the distance, I relived the journey of the past few days in my mind and the harsh truths I had seen while consumed by the sorting virus. The words of the Banu on Vita Perry came back to me: Journey within yourself and you will reach your destination.
I didn’t understand what the Banu had meant then, but after the crazy delivery I had a little more understanding. As Satchel had said, you always trade up for problems. I was so busy trying to earn enough credits for my Aurora LX, that I’d forgotten why I’d become a courier in the first place — to see the galaxy.
If I kept going down that path, I’d end up like Senet Mehen, so focused on my goals that I missed the whole reason I was making the journey.
By the time I reached the Sol system, I’d become at peace with the setback. In retrospect, it had been an amazing, if harrowing, experience that was in some ways worth the lost credits.
Sometimes you just lose. That was the way of the Universe. But I wouldn’t let it hold me back. Despite the final verdict, I’d proved a lot to myself.
The delivery of the Gorane divorce papers in Sol was a little bittersweet. It wrapped up the journey. Once it was over, I pulled up my mobiGlas and toggled my availability into the ‘On’ position. I had a lot of credits to make up.
It wasn’t until a few months later after the botched Tyrol IV delivery that things finally and truly wrapped up. I had just landed on Ferron when I received a message from Alara Bonaire.
At first the name confused me until I realized it was the former wife of Abel Gorane, the cretin businessman I’d rescued her from.
Greetings Sorri,
I dearly hope things are well for you. I can never truly repay you for what you did. Had Abel gotten Maria into the ship, I would have never seen her again.
My life before divorce was very complicated, so I’m glad to be rid of my husband. I’m trying to simplify, which in turn, made me think of you and your generosity. I’ve decided to bequeath you Abel’s old ship Black Queen. He said he named it after me, but I hope she treats you better than he ever treated me. She’s pretty worn down, but can still tread the deep skies. You’ll find the entry codes at the bottom of this message, along with the hangar number. Be well and good luck.
Warmest regards,
Alara Bonaire
Maria Bonaire
Hangar Fifteen. The whole way I was certain that it was a dream and that I would wake up, covered in a cold sweat.
But then it was there, the hangar. It was a sealed bay, so I went through the airlock. Sitting at number fifteen was an early model Aurora ES. It had heavy burn marks on the nose, pitting along the sides, and the color was faded.
It wasn’t a ship, but a flying ball of fixer’s tape. But if the letter I’d just received was true, then it was mine.
I let out a whoop and went running for Black Queen. There were a few workers in red jumpsuits doing maintenance on a Caterpillar on the other side of the hangar. They glanced up at my sprint across the hard flooring. I heard a few chuckles when I hugged the nose section.
My fingers trembled as I punched in the access codes. When the door whooshed open, I could barely stand still.
The inside was a wreck. There was barely enough room to stand. The pilot’s chair was bare metal. Some of the controls were chipped and the guts of something important were hanging from the ceiling.
I touched each and every surface of Black Queen, inside and out, trying to prove to myself that it was real. I mean, getting it flight worthy was going to take some serious credits, but nothing like what a new ship would cost. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to send a message to my father and tell him that I finally had my own ship. He wouldn’t believe it.
But then I remembered the note that Captain Satchel had left me. I went running back outside to grab my knapsack. The letter was jammed into the bottom, the corner practically ripped off.
The paper inside was thick. You could see the chunks from when it was made. It was a glimpse into the soul of Captain Satchel. He’d written my name on the front using an antique pen. I could tell by the way the thickness of the letters changed with the stroke.
I was about to read the letter when I decided the proper location was in the captain’s chair. My first note, captain to captain.
I flipped it open, admiring the way the paper scraped against itself. Then I read his message out loud, into the sanctity of my own ship: Black Queen.
Captain Sorri Lyrax.
Congratulations! I hope this day is sooner rather than later but either way it’s here. Just remember that before you can claim this ship as yours, you must christen it in the only way you know how.
Your friend,
Satchel
I didn’t catch his meaning until I remembered what had happened on Vengeance Valkyrie when we’d had the sorting virus and were trapped in our chairs. I laughed for a full minute before I tucked the folded note into a crack between the instrument panels.
It struck me again what it would take to get Black Queen into flying shape. Thankfully I’d been working hard the last few months and had almost enough to pay for the repairs. Soon enough I’d be able to take the jobs I wanted, since I wouldn’t be tied to ship schedules and predetermined courier routes.
A stab of regret hit me in the gut as I thought about it. While I’d be in my own ship, I’d no longer be traveling through the populated star ports and floating stations. Instead, I’d be locked in a steel can, just like Senet Mehen. I mean, wasn’t that the reason that I’d become a courier in the first place? To meet people?
Suddenly, Black Queen seemed like a lonely place. What the heck was I thinking? This is what I had worked so hard for and now I was full of doubt?
I sat for a half hour considering my options before I finally came up with a solution that solved a couple of problems at once. A quick tap on my mobi brought up the message link.
Dear Betrix, I started typing, I realize this offer might seem rather strange, but I have my own ship now. Certain aspects of the operation would run smoother with a second person. Are you interested in being my First Mate?
The End
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- CIG ID
- 17408
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- Undefined
- Category
- Undefined
- Series
- Second Run
- Comments
- 31
- Published
- 6 years ago (2019-12-25T00:00:00+00:00)