“I have seen a ship like this one,” he finally said, a metal digit pointing to the ugly ship. “It is not logical for it to be what I think it is, or for it to be in this location. But if it is, then it is the source of the signal.”
Halliwell didn’t ask what he thought it was. If he’d wanted to tell him, Tim would have.
Halliwell took a step back, trying to get a sense of how hard it would be to get to it from here. The whole set up looked like one of those mazes they put on the back of cereal boxes for kids to do while they ate.
“It’s not going to be easy to get there,” Halliwell murmured.
“Logic says you, Riina and Naxe return to the Vycorth and wait at a safe distance while I explore.” His head swiveled around to meet Halliwell’s gaze.
He didn’t sound confident, just matter of fact. Riina shifted, probably in protest. Halliwell felt the same instinctive protest. Yeah, Tim was good. All the robots were, or had been, almost unstoppable. It was that “almost” that was the problem. They didn’t know what was on any of those ships.
“I believe we should stick together,” Naxe said.
Halliwell glanced at her, noted how still she was as she looked at the display.
“Does something there remind you of…anything?” he asked. He felt frustrated by not knowing what to ask her.
Her lips parted, then she shifted. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”
“I have the same feeling,” Riina said, reaching out to touch Naxe’s arm.
Naxe seemed almost startled by the touch, then lifted her gloved hand to cover Riina’s briefly.
Halliwell had no idea what it meant or why Naxe smiled, though he did like her smile. He might wish it was for him.
“So how do we get to that ugly sucker?” Halliwell asked. They—he needed to focus.
“There is only one way,” Tim said.
A path appeared on the display. It didn’t look too bad. It went right through the heart of the fleet. If Halliwell weren’t a suspicious SOB, he’d think it looked almost easy. A pity he was.
“It is very direct,” Tim said.
Of course, Tim already knew. He had faster processors.
“I don’t like it,” Halliwell admitted. That path would be harder for Blooban to get to them, too.
It seemed Blooban was monitoring them somehow, because he spoke again.
“I can retrieve you no matter which ship you are on.”
“He is a very good pilot,” Naxe said. “But getting the airlocks to activate would need to be done from this side.” She looked at Tim, who didn’t speak, probably because to him it was obvious he could handle this side.
In the short silence, Riina spoke. “I’m certain that won’t be a problem for Tim.”
“Have you been on any of these ships?” Halliwell asked.
Naxe stepped closer and with one finger, air-traced the Hope.
“Have you been on the Hope?”
“I…” She dropped her arm. “How do I know? I have memories, but…”
The memories seemed to be about the people, with the ships as real places, but he couldn’t assume anything except that she was compromised.
“Well, let’s see how well your memory matches reality,” he said. Her wide gaze met his and he added, “We’ll figure this out.”
This time her smile was for him. “Thank you.”
Back out in the corridor, it was not a surprise when Tim indicated that he would take the lead. Riina opted to walk behind Tim, though Naxe suspected she’d rather walk next to him. But Tim was in what Naxe was sure he would call intimidation mode. He had deployed weapons and his posture was menacing.
Naxe was pleased when John chose to walk next to her, though she suspected it was partly protective and partly defensive. How could she expect them to trust her when she didn’t trust herself?
John and Riina were also armed and Naxe wanted to be as well, but was uncertain if she should. Did she trust herself? What if whoever had compromised her memory, had altered what she could see, could also control her and where she directed her fire? What if she were forced to fire on her friends? The thought horrified her so much, she said, “You should secure my weapons.”
John glanced at her thoughtfully. “The thought had occurred to me, but I hate to leave you defenseless.”
“I do not like being defenseless,” she admitted. “But if my memory, my mind can be altered…how do I know you and I see the same things, will see the same things when it matters?”
“It’s a fair point. How about, when we reach each ship, we do a reality check?”
Naxe nodded, relieved.
“In the meantime, if you’d feel better, I’m sure Tim would secure your weapons for you.”
It felt awful, worse, it felt wrong to hand them over. The inner shadow rose and writhed and twisted inside her head. That it was so difficult, made her more determined to do it. She wished to be master of herself. Until she was certain she could trust her own thoughts, until she could trust what her eyes saw, she would do this. She chose to do this. And she wasn’t completely helpless. She could fight with her hands and feet if she needed. The shadow faded to flat, leaving an echo of fear because she was less lethal, less dangerous this way. It didn’t want her to trust John, she realized, or Tim or Riina.
When she took her place next to John once again, it felt as if the silence throbbed with anger and increased menace. When Tim began to move, it took all of her will to follow him, to keep pace with John.
“Someone or something is unhappy,” Riina murmured.
For some reason knowing that Riina felt it too helped. Air began to move in and out of Naxe’s lungs more easily, though every cell in her body felt hyper-aware and alert.
The bridge wasn’t far from the airlock and transit tube to the next ship. The next ship in the complicated puzzle, she mentally added. How had she not noticed this before? Because her mind had been manipulated, she reminded herself bitterly. Did she even know her real name? If the ships had been dark for so long, how did she know she belonged here?
For the first time she let herself see past her so-called duty to the deep longing that had led her to seek out John.
Free. She wanted to be free of this life, of these…ghost ships. She’d called them that to John at their first meeting. Had some part of her known she was trapped in an illusion?
The airlock presented no problem to Tim. The transit tube lacked gravity. They had to propel themselves forward using the handholds strung along both sides.
It was a vulnerable place to be, drifting forward with the emptiness of space all around them, though she noticed John and Riina paused to study the ships they could see through the translucent tube. Tim had the next airlock open by the time she and John reached it. The airlock closed and their feet were pulled down to metal in the low gravity of the airlock. The door to the tube closed and the airlock cycled.
“Interesting,” Riina said.
“How so?” John asked, as Tim worked on the ship’s other door now.
“That some systems still work.”
“Just enough to entice someone to keep going, in fact,” John said, his tone grim even over the comm.
“It’s a trap,” Naxe said. Something bitter shuddered through her with the realization that they’d recognized it for what it was. Flickers of realization hovered just out of sight. This was familiar, but she couldn’t remember why or even how. It was like an itch she was unable to scratch. And when she tried, the shadow pushed back.