collision with a rock, he said. An explosion took one whole damn tank out. The other one’s got a bash you could park a skimmer in. You want to see the videotape, man? I can show you the tape.”
“Didn’t hit a rock,” he said, shaking his head. He had no idea where this was going. He had no idea what they were accusing him of, whether this was going on record or what they wanted from him.
“Why would it explode?”
“The ‘driver clipped us.”
“Facing
away
from the Well? Whose Zone were you in?”
“Rl.”
“ ‘Driver, hell. You ran it into a rock, didn’t you? Just plain ran it onto a rock.”
“No.”
“Ben,” Bird said, “take it easy. The guy’s confused.”
“ ‘Take it easy.’—Some people with trouble deserve it, you know.”
“We don’t know anything,” Bird said. “His memory isn’t going to be all that good, with what he’s been through.”
“Looks healthy enough. Looks damned well healthy enough on our air and our food. Looks like he’s making real good progress.”
Ben talked about claiming the ship, he recollected that—they were after the ship and they claimed they were taking him to R2, not home; now they were talking about other debts—
They talked as if they wanted to put him to work for them. He had heard about Nouri. It had happened before in the Belt. Guys with all sorts of kinks went out in ships… and when they were ready to come in to Base, they might not want to take the evidence with them.
God, he thought, and looked off toward nowhere. The only thing in the vicinity was that ‘driver ship. If they had never reported finding Cory—
The instruments… something coming at him over the horizon—
Explosion like a fist hit them.
G
-force. He reached after the fire controls.
No power. Nothing…
Ben left him. Bird left him. He saw Bird talking with Ben, holding on to Ben’s arm, he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Then Ben shouted, “We own that ship!” and Bird: “Just shut it down, Ben, shut it down, for God’s
sake
, Ben!”
They started arguing again, yelling at each other about money, about what they were spending on him, and Bird took his part, saying, over and over again, “It’s not your damn decision, Ben!”
He watched, turning so he could see, phasing in and out of clear awareness, the fan-sound going in his ears, the soup he had drunk lying queasy on his stomach. He was afraid at one point Ben was going to hit the old man, and that Ben was going to end up in control of the ship.
The argument broke up. He grayed out a while. He came to with something near him and looked into a cyclopic glass lens, a camera pointed at his face, Ben’s face behind it. That scared him. He stared back, wondering whether Ben had a real kink or whether Ben was just a hobbyist. He was afraid to object. He just stared back and tried not to throw up.
Then Ben cut the camera off and said, “Got you, you son of a bitch,” and drifted off.
He thought, This guy’s crazy, he’s absolutely crazy… Ben wanted his ship. Ben wanted him dead. He had this cable around his neck, that Ben had put there. He was afraid to sleep after that, afraid Ben was going to do something stranger still, and adrenaline kept him focused for a while. But things started going away from him again, he was back in the dark with the tumbling and the pressure building in his head, and then he was back again with that lens in his face and Ben going crazier and crazier…
He had no idea how long those times were or whether he had dreamed the business with the camera. When he looked, Bird was sleeping in a makeshift net rigged down toward the bow, and Ben was back at the workstation keyboard as if he had never moved, never had done anything in the least odd. He watched Ben for a while, wondering if he had hallucinated, wondering if it was safe to move with Bird asleep, because he was beginning to feel an acute need of going down to the head, and he was scared to do anything
“Didn’t hit a rock,” he said, shaking his head. He had no idea where this was going. He had no idea what they were accusing him of, whether this was going on record or what they wanted from him.
“Why would it explode?”
“The ‘driver clipped us.”
“Facing
away
from the Well? Whose Zone were you in?”
“Rl.”
“ ‘Driver, hell. You ran it into a rock, didn’t you? Just plain ran it onto a rock.”
“No.”
“Ben,” Bird said, “take it easy. The guy’s confused.”
“ ‘Take it easy.’—Some people with trouble deserve it, you know.”
“We don’t know anything,” Bird said. “His memory isn’t going to be all that good, with what he’s been through.”
“Looks healthy enough. Looks damned well healthy enough on our air and our food. Looks like he’s making real good progress.”
Ben talked about claiming the ship, he recollected that—they were after the ship and they claimed they were taking him to R2, not home; now they were talking about other debts—
They talked as if they wanted to put him to work for them. He had heard about Nouri. It had happened before in the Belt. Guys with all sorts of kinks went out in ships… and when they were ready to come in to Base, they might not want to take the evidence with them.
God, he thought, and looked off toward nowhere. The only thing in the vicinity was that ‘driver ship. If they had never reported finding Cory—
The instruments… something coming at him over the horizon—
Explosion like a fist hit them.
G
-force. He reached after the fire controls.
No power. Nothing…
Ben left him. Bird left him. He saw Bird talking with Ben, holding on to Ben’s arm, he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Then Ben shouted, “We own that ship!” and Bird: “Just shut it down, Ben, shut it down, for God’s
sake
, Ben!”
They started arguing again, yelling at each other about money, about what they were spending on him, and Bird took his part, saying, over and over again, “It’s not your damn decision, Ben!”
He watched, turning so he could see, phasing in and out of clear awareness, the fan-sound going in his ears, the soup he had drunk lying queasy on his stomach. He was afraid at one point Ben was going to hit the old man, and that Ben was going to end up in control of the ship.
The argument broke up. He grayed out a while. He came to with something near him and looked into a cyclopic glass lens, a camera pointed at his face, Ben’s face behind it. That scared him. He stared back, wondering whether Ben had a real kink or whether Ben was just a hobbyist. He was afraid to object. He just stared back and tried not to throw up.
Then Ben cut the camera off and said, “Got you, you son of a bitch,” and drifted off.
He thought, This guy’s crazy, he’s absolutely crazy… Ben wanted his ship. Ben wanted him dead. He had this cable around his neck, that Ben had put there. He was afraid to sleep after that, afraid Ben was going to do something stranger still, and adrenaline kept him focused for a while. But things started going away from him again, he was back in the dark with the tumbling and the pressure building in his head, and then he was back again with that lens in his face and Ben going crazier and crazier…
He had no idea how long those times were or whether he had dreamed the business with the camera. When he looked, Bird was sleeping in a makeshift net rigged down toward the bow, and Ben was back at the workstation keyboard as if he had never moved, never had done anything in the least odd. He watched Ben for a while, wondering if he had hallucinated, wondering if it was safe to move with Bird asleep, because he was beginning to feel an acute need of going down to the head, and he was scared to do anything
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