“What do the Jellies want?” Kira asked, feeling overwhelmed. Underneath her jumpsuit, the Soft Blade stirred again. She struggled to calm herself. Somehow she had to find a way to contact her family, figure out if they were safe and let them know she was still alive, consequences be damned. “Are they trying to conquer us, or…?”
“Wish I could tell you. They don’t seem to be trying to wipe us out, but that’s about all we know. They attack here, they attack there … If I had to guess, I’d say they’re softening us up for something more serious. You didn’t answer my question, though.”
“Huh?”
“About Sigma Draconis.”
“Ah.” Kira gathered her thoughts. “We were attacked,” she said. “I guess by the Jellies.”
“We?” said Falconi.
“The Extenuating Circumstances. We were on patrol, and Captain Henriksen stopped by Adrasteia to check on the survey team there. That night we got ambushed. My boyfriend, he, uh—” Kira’s voice broke slightly, and then she continued. “He didn’t make it. Most of the crew didn’t. A few of us managed to get to the shuttle before the Extenuating Circumstances lost containment. When it went, it took out the aliens as well. The five of us drew straws to see who would go into cryo, and I got the short end.”
That did it; Kira could tell Falconi believed her. But he didn’t relax, not entirely. With his middle finger he tapped the grip of his blaster; the movement seemed more habit than conscious gesture.
“Did you see any of the Jellies?” Trig asked, sounding excited. The kid pulled another ration bar from his pocket and tore open the wrapper. “What shape were they? How big? Big-big or just … big?” He took several quick bites, stuffing his mouth until his cheeks bulged.
Kira didn’t feel like making up another story. “Yeah, I saw one. It was big enough, and it had too many tentacles.”
“Those are not the only kind,” said Vishal.
“Oh?”
“No one knows if they are the same species, a close relation, or something else entirely, but the Jellies come in different flavors.”
Speaking past the food in his mouth, Trig said, “Some have tentacles. Some have arms. Some crawl. Some slither. Some only seem to function in zero-g. Others only get deployed in gravity wells. Some appear in both. A half-dozen different kinds have been spotted so far, but there could be lots more. I’ve collected all the reports from the League. If you’re interested, I could—”
“Alright, Trig,” said Falconi. “That can wait.”
The kid nodded and fell quiet, although he seemed slightly disappointed.
Falconi scratched his chin with his free hand, his eyes uncomfortably sharp. “You must have been one of the first ones the Jellies attacked. You left Sigma Draconis, what, back in mid-August?”
“Yeah.”
“Were you able to get a warning off to the League beforehand?”
“Only via slower-than-light. Why?”
Falconi made a noncommittal sound. “I was just wondering if the League knew about the Jellies before they started appearing everywhere. Guess not, but—”
A short, loud tone sounded overhead, and the captain’s eyes grew vague as he shifted his attention to his overlays. The same occurred with both Trig and Vishal.
“What is it?” Kira asked, noting the concern on their faces.
“More Jellies,” said Falconi.
3.
A tall, straight-backed woman hurried up to Falconi and tapped him on the shoulder. She looked older than him, old enough that most people would begin to consider their first round of STEM shots. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and the sleeves of her tan work shirt were rolled up. Like Falconi, she wore a blaster strapped to her leg.
She said, “Captain—”
“I see them. That makes two … no, three new Jellies.” Falconi’s glacial-blue eyes cleared as he pointed at Trig and snapped his fingers. “Get Ms. Kaminski down to the hold and make sure everyone is secure. We might have to make an emergency burn.”
“Yessir.”
The captain and the woman disappeared down the corridor together. Trig stared after them until well after they were gone.
“Who was that?” Kira asked.
“Ms. Nielsen,” said Trig. “She’s our first officer.” He hopped off the counter. “Come on, then.”
“One minute,” said Vishal, opening a drawer. He handed a small container to Kira. Inside it, she found a pair of contact lenses floating in liquid-filled capsules. “You can use these to go online while you wait for your implants to be repaired.”
After so long without any overlays, Kira could hardly wait. She pocketed the container. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
The doctor bobbed his head and smiled. “My pleasure, Ms. Kaminski.”
Trig bounced on his heels. “Alright, now can we go?”
“Yes, go, go!” said the doctor.
4.
Trying to ignore her sense of foreboding, Kira followed Trig into the narrow, brown-sided corridor. It curved in a gentle arc, forming a ring around what was, no doubt, the midline of the Wallfish. The deck looked as if it had once rotated to provide artificial gravity when the ship wasn’t accelerating, but no more; the orientation of the rooms and furniture—as she had seen in the sickbay—was strictly stern to aft, in line with the engine’s thrust.
“How much did that skinsuit cost?” Trig asked, pointing at her hand.
“You like it?” said Kira.
“Yeah. It’s got a cool texture.”
“Thanks. It was made for survival in extreme environments, like Eidolon.”
The kid brightened up. “Really? That’s awesome.”
She smiled without meaning to. “I don’t know how much it cost, though. Like I said, it was a gift.”
They came to an open doorway on the inner wall of the corridor, and Trig turned. Through it was a second corridor, this one leading toward the middle of the ship.
“So does the Wallfish usually carry passengers?” Kira asked.
“Nah,” said Trig. “But a lotta people are willing to pay us to take ’em to Ruslan, where it’s safer. We’ve also been picking up survivors from ships the Jellies have damaged.”
“Really? That sounds pretty dangerous.”
The kid shrugged. “Beats sitting around waiting to get shot. ’Sides, we need the money.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. We used the last of our antimatter getting to Sixty-One Cygni, and then the guy who was supposed to pay us stiffed us, so we ended up stuck out here. We’re just trying to earn enough bits so we can buy the antimatter to get back to Sol or Alpha Centauri.”
As he was talking, they arrived at a pressure door. “Uh, just ignore that,” said Trig, waving at a patch of wall. He seemed embarrassed. “Old joke.”
The wall looked blank to Kira. “What?”
The kid was confused for a moment. “Oh, right. Your implants.” He tipped a finger toward her. “I forgot. Never mind. Just an overlay we’ve had for a while. The captain thinks it’s funny.”
“Does he now?” What sort of thing would make a man like Falconi laugh? Kira wished she was wearing the contacts.
Trig pulled open the pressure door and ushered her into a long, dark shaft that pierced multiple levels of the ship. A ladder ran through the center, and thin metal grating marked off each deck, although the holes in the grating were so wide, she could see all the way to the bottom of the shaft, four decks below.