“So you’re a writer, an author, that’s what we call a storyteller. How did you end up here?”
“It’s so crazy. But with the peace, other Tale Speakers, our readers and listeners, wanted to meet us. At first, it was terrifying, but I found peace and connection in the gatherings. I found I wasn’t alone.”
And perhaps she hoped to find out about her parents, he guessed.
“When we came here, that is what we thought it was: a gathering of others. And so many ships! We had no idea…”
She withdrew her hands from his. He didn’t think it was a rejection of him but the memory of what had happened next. She gave a shake of her shoulders, as if shaking it off, then turned and activated the airlock. A wry smile edged her mouth. She indicated the airlock.
“I wasn’t going to go through one ever again and here I am. Caught by curiosity.”
“It’s not just a cat,” Halliwell agreed. At her look of inquiry, he added, “It’s a very curious species on my planet.”
“Sentient?”
He grinned. “Depends on who you ask.”
They stepped inside and the hatch closed. He wasn’t usually a fan of airlocks either, but he didn’t mind this one. It let him stand close to Naxe for a little longer. He noticed her gaze was on the Scoyfol’s ship, visible through the porthole.
“Maybe you can finally tell the real story of the Scoyfols,” he said.
“I don’t understand how he made it feel so real.” She glanced at him wryly. “Even now they are shadows in my mind.” And then she gave a half laugh, “But not a story. They were never a story. They were, they are a history.”
Halliwell laughed. “All right, maybe you, or someone, can finally tell the history of the Scoyfols.”
They lowered their faceplates and checked their suits, then activated the pressure equalization in the airlock. Halliwell activated the outer hatch and there it was. This would have been a great moment for a song. But he didn’t know which one. He hated to admit it, but he needed Bangle for that.
The transit tube stretched out with the same handholds waiting for them. This didn’t seem like a “ladies first” moment, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“Would you like me to go first?”
Naxe’s smile did some very unsettling things to his insides and her nod felt like more than permission to go first. She was grateful and relieved.
They had just boarded the Hope and were waiting for the airlock to cycle when Tim contacted both Naxe and John over their comms.
“Kismir has released all prisoners and some are making their way toward their ships which were integrated into this array,” he said. “I’m assisting in getting them space worthy once again.”
“I guess it isn’t our job to screen them,” John said, a crease of worry between his strong brows.
Naxe tried not to feel resentful of this intrusion into their moment. It was an unwelcome reminder that they would be going different directions before long. Had she asked to come here to postpone that? It was possible. Hadn’t she had her fill of the Scoyfols?
“I examined their ships’ logs,” Tim said.
The amused look in John’s eyes restored some of the connection Tim had broken.
“I’m concerned that the word will get out. The remaining array is pretty vulnerable.”
Was her ship—her parents’ ship—still out there? It must be. Odon wouldn’t have risked sending her out on her own ship, so full of memories. It was still there. She felt a jolt. And her crew.
“Is my crew all right?” she asked, guilt stabbing at her mind and heart. They should have been her first concern—but they were a couple, older and loyal to her parents. Now with the hindsight of this experience, she realized they’d wanted to be free too. Not so much of her, but of the roaming life. They’d wanted to go home and she hadn’t realized it. Or had she? The emotions she’d felt had to come from real places to have so much power over her during her…captivity. On some level she had known. More guilt, but also relief. They were all free now. She glanced at John. Was she? Did the pull she felt for him come from fear or from something more?
She’d written heroes into her stories, and she’d written heroines. The adventures were fun and she’d enjoyed having them save each other. Save each other. Did John need saving? Substitute “save” for love. She kept her sigh silent. It was possible that the only way she could save him was to leave, to free him from the burden of her problems and her feelings. With a jolt, she realized Riina was speaking to her, answering her question.
“Your crew are fine and relieved to learn you are as well,” Riina said. “They are making their way to your ship to assess it for damage.” She paused, then added, “If you see anything exciting on the Hope, can you send me a feed?”
Was she sorry not to be with them? Naxe wasn’t sure. She seemed to be sticking close to Tim. How would it feel to be part of a couple, she wondered? She’d been alone for longer than she’d realized.
“Roger that,” John said.
He glanced at this last airlock control between them and answers. She hoped so. He moved to one side so she could reach them easily. She liked that about him. He treated her with an equality that she hadn’t always run into during her adventures in securing pointless supplies. What had happened to it all, she wondered? And how many times had she actually gone on her trips?
The memory—not a true one—of being here, of doing this, jostled with reality, as she touched the hatch control. It opened onto an antechamber that was larger than the other ships they’d passed through while getting to the Ugly Sucker ship. This one could have accommodated at least six crew members fairly comfortably. In fact, there were six egress suits hanging limply on hooks on either side. There were a couple of lockers and some storage also. There were crew patches on the suits. She fingered the suit, studying the patch with the intertwined “s” and “f.” For the original name, she decided. Scoyfol’s Future. There wouldn’t have been resources for changing their patches and such—if they’d actually changed the name. That change could have been part of Odon’s story.
She had no sense of recognition for the patch, which was interesting. Her flight suit had been devoid of a crew patch, but that had been a security issue. It was hard to believe she’d made it this far, but she did wonder, would she ever be able to filter out the real from the planted memories? Her relationship with Blooban anchored the memories to some extent, she decided. She couldn’t excise the memories without erasing him, too. She owed him too much to do that. He’d kept her from being alone in the nightmare.
They crossed this hatch and entered a dim corridor that was wider than the others they’d traversed so far. Naxe supposed it made sense. This was a much bigger ship and, if what they knew was true, had been designed to carry both passengers and cargo. The emergency lighting was barely enough to see a few feet. Minimal life support, according to her suit’s readings. She lifted on her toes, testing the gravity settings. These were also minimal.
She tried her headlamp, but it must have been broken in the altercation with Odon, so she extracted her hand lamp and turned it on. It was a relief and a surprise when it worked. They headed down the long, curving corridor. Unlike the other ship, any doors leading off this corridor were locked.