Выбрать главу

“That is what you had with you,” Yanna explained. “I felt you should have it, but you can play the recording back on our device so the…” Another search for the word. “The batteries in your device, the power source, it is not compatible with our systems. I did not wish to ruin it trying to charge it.”

“Thank you.” She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

He looked concerned. A matching wave of emotion flowed from him to her. “Are you all right, Erin Cafford?”

On her left hand she wore two rings. She touched them. “Was that my husband’s voice?” she whispered.

Concern shifted to sorrow on her behalf. “I do not know, lost one. All I know is what you heard. Did you remember anything?”

Aaroncaphford.”

He slowly nodded. “In the recording, I believe the woman speaking is you. And you called the man ‘Ford.’”

She finally looked at him. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded as he slid his tall body behind his desk. “Our race is currently in negotiations to sign treaties to be recognized by other treaty races. While we have never been hostile, we still must follow the ISTC protocols. We do not have communication privileges, except to declare emergencies with our ship, while in this territory. We are under orders to proceed to our initial rendezvous point at a space station, where we will pick up a diplomatic escort to take us to Mars.”

Mars! It felt like her heart raced a little, in pleasant anticipation, perhaps, at that.

He studied her reaction. “Is that familiar?”

Erin, as she was already thinking of herself, struggled to remember. “I…think so.”

“Then perhaps it is best you remain with us until then. As I said, we had originally thought to leave you at our first stop—”

“I’d rather stay here.”

He sat back and studied her. “Why?”

She had no reason to say anything but the truth. She shrugged. “Because I feel safe here.”

Chapter Sixteen

If this were play’d upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

—William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

On board the Tamora Bight, nine days passed like nine torturous centuries. The men barely spoke to each other outside of necessary command functions to keep the ship running. They withdrew from each other, all of them feeling guilty and grief-stricken.

Caph refused to let go of Bucky, keeping it with him at all times.

As soon as they emerged from their jump, they sent an emergency message to the DSMC and ISNC. Without waiting for a reply they turned around and immediately set a return jump to their point of origin. When they reached it, they received a message from the DSMC that backup and search assistance was en route, including the Kendall Kant and Braynow Gaston.

Their scanners showed nothing. Based on the trajectory of the aft pod, Ford plotted out the most likely search area and they started scanning for her, for anything. Any sign.

Three days after their return, they received notice from the ISNC that the data buoy signal had been retrieved. The men huddled around the command station, listening as they played the audio and log recordings.

All three cried.

A week later, the K-2 found the pod.

Empty.

Caph shook his head as he listened to the message they received from Rob, tears streaming down his cheeks and Bucky tightly clenched in his fist.

Ford, however, felt encouraged. “Guys, that means she’s not dead!”

Aaron’s brown eyes looked dead, lifeless. “No. It means she wasn’t inside the pod when it was found. It doesn’t mean she’s alive. Rob said they didn’t even find supplies.”

He stood to leave the bridge.

“Aar, goddammit, can’t you think positively?” Ford desperately screamed.

Aaron turned. In a quiet voice he said, “This sector is notorious for raiders, Ford. She didn’t stand a chance.” He nodded toward Caph. “Quit getting his hopes up when you know the truth. She’s gone. And it’s all our fault for not protecting her.”

He walked off the bridge.

Caph sobbed. Ford hugged him, comforting him as the large man sank to his knees and cried.

“She’s not dead, big guy,” Ford insisted with his arms tightly wrapped around his lover. “Aaron’s wrong. I feel it. If raiders got her, they would have kept and stripped the pod, not turned it loose. Or left a ransom note. She’s a DSMC fleet officer. They wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to ransom her, or at the very least pretend she’s alive and leave a note. She’s not dead!”

It didn’t comfort him. Ford stroked Caph’s hair, rocking him as the force of Caph’s grief overwhelmed him, too.

* * *

Donna sat in the K-2’s cargo bay and stared at the empty lifepod. When Rob tried to get her to come back up to their quarters, she angrily slapped his hand away.

He knelt next to her. “Hon, there’s nothing you can do but torture yourself sitting here.”

“Maybe I’ll feel something.”

“You’re not a trained empath.”

She turned and sent him a “fuck you” look.

“We went over every inch of it.” His voice softened. “We found nothing.”

She clenched and unclenched her fists to keep from slugging him. “That’s right. Nothing. No blood, no signs of a struggle, no signs of her being injured or killed. Do you think Emi would go without a fight?”

She refused to give voice to the common sense answer, that perhaps Emi had died before someone else found the pod.

“Raiders would have kept the pod,” she rationalized. “Or scavenged it. Or tried to ransom her.” She returned her gaze to the pod. “I’ll come up when I’m ready to come up and not a second earlier, Captain.”

He held up his hands in supplication. “Okay, babe. You win. Just remember, me and the guys, we love you and we only want to help you. To be there for you when you decide to let us back in.” He stood and left the cargo bay.

She jumped when she heard the door slam.

Wiping at the tears now streaming down her face, she stared at the pod.

We’ll find you, Emi. I promise. I know you’re not dead.

* * *

With the help of Yanna, Pachya, and Pabo, Erin soon found herself learning the Beyant language. Idioms were hardest for her to grasp, but at least by the end of her first week she could navigate her way through the ship without getting lost and could ask for basic directions. She started learning the names of the crewmen, who all acted helpful and friendly. The ambassador took special interest in her and also helped with her language studies.

By the second week, she and Pachya discovered she had a knack for science and experimentation. With Yanna carefully translating, Erin was able to help Pachya test and discover not only more safe foods, but identify ones potentially harmful to her.

“Perhaps you are a scientist?” Yanna helpfully suggested.

“I don’t know.” She thought about it. “That sort of feels right, but not quite.” She played with the rings on her hands. She’d cut her hair short, to just above her shoulders, when the water made it frizzy and weird and she realized it was starting to change color at the roots. Most likely an effect of the Beyant water, but she would feel better when it was all a similar blond color as her shipmates’ hair. She would feel even more at home then, like she belonged.

Like they were family.