Nexus - Robert Boyczuk (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📗

was constantly doing the same calculation in his head, arriving at the number of days allotted him. So, less than ten days after he’d tossed it aside, he capitulated and retrieved it, strapping it on his wrist. Strangely, this seemed to alleviate his anxiety, for though he checked it constantly the first few days-almost to the point of preoccupation-within a week he was looking at it no more often than he would have an ordinary watch. The fact of his own demise had taken on the patina of the commonplace.

Their focus shifted to prepping the Ea.

Fifteen more days passed. Liis drifted through the hallways, wrapped in her own disconsolate thoughts. Yet, it was plain she still watched Josua intently whenever they were together, her expression betraying the extremes of a pathetic hope and miserable resignation. Josua seemed insensible to her attentions; but he seemed insensible to anything other than the preparations. Sav found himself going rigid whenever Josua approached, remembering the marks on Liis’ wrists, wanting to do something, but never sure quite what. His impotence infuriated and shamed him. He avoided them both.

Their work progressed.

Binlosson was now running his own scavenging missions in The Viracosa‘s dropship. Yilda had insisted they split up, citing ‘security reasons’, presumably because he sent Binlosson to gather material pertinent to their mission to the relay station. Material he didn’t want Sav to see. Which was fine with Sav, who was only too happy to be shut of Binlosson’s unending stream of vitriol.

By the end of the thirty-first day (Sav’s watch now reported 72 days remaining), the Ea had been fully prepped, new cryo cells installed to hold its larger crew, the extra fuel transferred from The Viracosa, the food stores replenished, and new navigational data uploaded to its AI. It happened faster than Sav had expected. But there was still plenty of work left to do on The Viracosa. He had expected the others to pitch in with him, to help prepare the other ship, but the moment they’d finished with the Ea, Yilda had given them all new orders. They dispersed, bent on their own tasks. It served to remind Sav that in a few shorts weeks they’d be going their own separate ways, and he’d likely never see any of them again.

By himself, Sav began the arduous task of prepping for The Viracosa for a mission longer than any she’d ever flown.

“If we don’t run into any, um, difficulties, we anticipate breaking orbit in sixty days.” Yilda tapped his index finger pensively against his lips. He looked around the table, then dropped his hand.

They had all gathered in the boardroom. Sav had been the last one to arrive, taking the only seat left, sandwiched between Josua on one side and Ruen on the other, a chain of data cards dangling loosely from his knobby, rheumatic fingers.

“Which leaves us only twelve days,” Binlosson muttered sourly, staring at his watch.

“Sixty days?” Sav shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not sure I can get The Viracosa ready by then. If you could release Liis for a few days….”

“No. We need her in the lab, hey? You and Josua will have to do your best.”

“But-”

“You, Josua and Ruen are more than adequate for the job. Yes? And as of now, the two crews should stay as far apart from one. Security issues.”

“Security issues?”

“It is, ah, imperative, that Two Crew know as little as possible about the other mission.” Two Crew. It was how Yilda had taken to identifying the missions: Two Crew-Sav, Josua and Ruen-running The Viracosa to the heart of the Nexus Polyarchy; One Crew would be taking the Ea to the repeater station. “In case Two Crew is, um, compromised.”

“You mean intercepted by Nexus.”

“Ah, yes.”

Sav crossed his arms. He hated to admit it, but Yilda was right-even though he didn’t see much hope for either mission.

“There’s more.” Hebuiza’s voice boomed, startlingly loud after Yilda’s soft, lisping speech. He was sitting opposite Sav, and now he leaned forward, his long frame bent over the table. “From now on you’re not to go near the lab. You’re not to ask any questions. Either will be considered a breach of security and dealt with swiftly.”

“Let me guess,” Sav said. “You’re in charge of security.”

Hebuiza’s thin lips crooked up into a mirthless grin.

“Yes,” Yilda said. “It is, um, critical, that the members of Two Crew stay away from the lab.”

“I’ve implemented special measures,” Hebuiza said with obvious relish. “To deal with any unauthorized attempts to enter the lab.” Looking directly at Sav, he said, “You’re free to test the system if you wish.”

“No thanks,” Sav said, determined not to give the Facilitator the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Hebuiza laughed aloud, a fleering, raucous sound.

Something twitched inside Sav, and before he knew what he was doing he was up, rocking on the balls of his feet, glaring at the lanky Facilitator. The smile had vanished from Hebuiza’s face and he jerked back in his seat out of Sav’s striking range. Sav felt a hand grasp his arm, restrain him.

“If there’s nothing else,” Josua said calmly from his seat, his grip tight on Sav’s forearm, “We have lots of work left. Don’t we Sav?”

Sav stared at Josua’s fingers pressing into his flesh; he thought of the now-faded bruises that ringed Liis’ wrists. “Whatever,” Sav said, jerking his arm from Josua’s grip. The smile reappeared on Hebuiza’s face, but this time it was an uncertain, fearful thing, more bravado than sneer. Sav turned and strode out into the corridor. He stepped into the elevator and punched the button for his floor.

Before the doors sealed, Josua blocked them, forced them back. He stepped halfway into the car, keeping his hand over the light sensor so the door remained open. Sav stared at Josua’s fingers resting on the burnished metal of the door. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Josua wouldn’t hurt me, Liis had said. Would he? “Nothing,” Sav muttered and punched the button again.

“Don’t let Hebuiza get under your skin,” he said. “He’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it?” Sav curled his hands into fists. “Just what the hell is anymore?”

For a moment Josua looked surprised at the question. “Why nothing, of course.” Letting his hand fall, he took a step back; the elevator doors began to close. “Except maybe what we’re doing.”

The car started its descent. “Yeah,” Sav said. But the word, once uttered, didn’t sound as sarcastic as Sav had intended.

The work on The Viracosa fell mostly to Sav. Ruen was useless in anything requiring technical aptitude or physical strength; and Josua had fallen into the habit of going off on his own. Frequently he would take one of the dropships out. Where he went or what he did, he’d never volunteered, and Sav never bothered to ask. Sometimes he’d be gone for most of the day. No one seemed concerned. They all seemed to have their own preoccupations.

And Ruen was not at a loss to fill his time either: he busied himself with preparations for the Dissolution. Often strains of his murmured prayers and homilies were audible up and down the main hallway as the patrix paced the corridor, hands clasped behind his back, his fingers twined in his chain of data cards. His blessed database grew.

Time crawled by, Sav’s life slipping away with each passing moment. It had a finality that scared and sickened him, that made his hands shake whenever they weren’t occupied with his work. He dragged himself from task to task, trying to think of nothing but the job at hand. Occasionally he’d see Liis; and each time he’d stare at her, a strange thought growing like a tumour in his mind: what would have happened if Liis had felt about him the way she did about Josua? He knew he would not have spurned her as Josua had. He would have welcomed the warmth of her body in his bed.

But could he have loved her the way she wanted to be loved?

He wasn’t sure he had the capacity. Love had always been what other people experienced. Not him. He was too cynical, too detached. That he could now love a woman out of necessity, and the only woman left to love, seemed hopelessly pathetic. No, he decided, he couldn’t love her. Like so many of the other lost chances in his life, the possibility of love now seemed as remote to Sav as his chances of surviving the plague.

45 Days Left

The end came abruptly.

Waking on the 57th day after their preparations began (his watch now showed 45 days remaining to the onset of the first symptoms), Sav discovered Liis’ door open and her room empty. Nothing was obviously amiss. Staring at the dusty interior, the scattering of clothes and equipment, he tried to identify the source of his disquiet. Then, with a start, he understood. The few personal items Liis had accumulated were no where to be seen. Sav rushed to the elevator.

Emerging on the main level, he found the door to Hebuiza’s lab open. Racks of equipment lay dormant; bits of wire and discarded circuit boards littered the floor. Three long tables, from which numerous cables dangled, were empty, whatever had been on them gone. His heart thumped quickly in his chest. Half-running, half-walking down the corridor, he emerged from the facility. Large, lazy flakes of snow descended around him; a shroud of white covered the ground. The breath of winter had settled over the country like a pall. Hip high drifts now lined either side of the path. A hundred meters away, at the far side of the landing pad, sat the Ea‘s dropship, it’s hatch open. Squeezed in next to it was the dropship from The Viracosa. Sav saw Yilda, dressed in his EVA suit, standing just inside the Ea‘s hatch; on the ground next to the ship was Josua, wrapped in his bulky jacket, passing boxes to Yilda. Sav trotted down the path toward them. When he was twenty meters away, Yilda caught sight of him, spoke to Josua. The two men stopped work. They waited for him.

Sav slowed to a walk as he approached. Despite the temperature, his forehead was lightly filmed with sweat. “What’s going on?”

“Preparations completed,” Yilda said. “Final load, hey? Shuttling it up to The Ea in a few moments. Breaking orbit in six hours.”

“Breaking orbit? At the meeting you said we’d be leaving when we only had twelve days remaining.” Sav glanced at his watch. “There’s still forty-seven days left!”

“Yes and, um, no,” Yilda answered. “Two Crew will be departing when there are twelve days remaining as, ah, I said.”

“The others,” Sav said hesitantly. “Binlosson, Mira, Penirdth,” he paused. “Liis…”

“One Crew has already boarded the Ea, running the pre-flight checks,” Josua said.

“They’re coming back?”

“No.” Josua sounded impatient. “This is the last load. When it’s gone, it’ll just be the three of us.”

So that’s it, Sav thought._ Liis is gone_. In a few hours her crew would immerse themselves in baths of liquid nitrogen, the creep of the plague halted until they woke again, centuries from now, on a long-dead, frozen world.

Josua turned his attention back to the pile of boxes and began struggling to dislodge a bulky crate. It’s wasn’t supposed to end like this, Sav thought. Craning his neck, he looked up but could see nothing except undifferentiated white, as smooth and impenetrable as a wall. A thousand times he had played over in his mind what he might say and do at the moment