The sky was splayed out around us, while Realmspace lurked above the horizon.
I sat in the front seat of the Secrecy, the battered control ring nestled against my temples, my hands resting on the carved handles in the dash.
Through the faint distortion of the environmental bubble, I could see past the nose of the craft and down at the swiftly retreating planet, the capital now a smear of shadow. This high the landscape lost all substance; uncountable leagues of land looked as fleeting as the shadow of the Secrecy.
I relaxed against the smooth wooden seat, and focused on the Secrecy. Years of flying, and the feeling still threatened to overwhelm me. I was me, and I was in the Secrecy, and I was urging her on and I was the Secrecy; my mind both in my head and stretching to the core buried in the nose of the craft.
I flexed my arms and I felt, more than heard, the wings adjust.
We had reached high enough that the Secrecy didn't require constant monitoring, so I set a smooth pace towards the Dark Sister, still hanging gracefully in the sky.
Noboro spoke, "Jax. Contact Maysilee."
I roll my eyes, safe behind my goggles, "Roger." He could have done it himself, bith seats were equipped with communication consoles, but Noboro hated the feeling more then I did. So I slipped a hand up to rest on the smooth grey stone embedded in the dash. "Contact Silent Sister" I said carefully, my throat rough. With the ease of repetition my mind unspooled out of the Secrecy like candy floss and stretched for a dizzy moment across open space. Then with a click like an opened lock I connect.
"Jax, I hear you." Maysilee's voice is dry and subdued, like its coming out of a withered old gourd.
I smile, "Maysilee, good to hear a voice other than Noboro. We are coming up on the Sister, be there in a cyle or less."
She laughed, a quick, soft burble. "I am glad to give even a meagre comfort such as this. Approach, and the Sister will accept you." She paused, then, "Were there any issues with pickup?"
''You're doubting me?" I grinned, "That Hurts."
"Mmh."
She closed the connection then, and I was back in the smallness of the Secrecy. Maysilee was a woman of as few words that could do the job, I was surprised she had kept on for as long as she had.
The Sister was close now, a solid curved outline expanding in the viewport. I bit my lip, I wanted to keep talking, but Noboro wasn't in the best of moods. That wasn't my fault though, I decided.
“What do you think’s in the package?” I ask.
Noboro huffed like he had a hairball jammed in his throat. “We cannot look.”
“Of course.” I knew I couldn’t look. Rule number one in the smugglers handbook; Don’t go snooping where you’re paid not to snoop. Or, second after the bit about money, and how having more should really be your goal. But I was still curious, and there was nothing in the handbook about theorycrafting.
“I mean, what could possibly be worth shipping off of that Dustball? I said, “did you see how much Captain will be raking in from this job. I mean, any price is a lot for a bag of sand but…” I trail off and wait for Noboro to respond.
He huffed again, this time deeper, closer to a growl. “No, I have not looked at the ledgers. And I will not look in the package!” Here, a deep note of pride entered his voice, despite his anger. “I am Noboro Ajijn, head of security for the Silent Sister, fifty-third in line to the-”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
I tune him out-a difficult task in as small of a space as the Secrecy.
The Sister filled the viewport now. I braced myself and slowed the craft, her dark hull gleaming as we drifted to a stop along the stern, the bay door opening wide.
The Bay doors closed behind us.
I set the Secrecy down next her twin, the Seclusion. I fold away the wings, and resist the doubled urge to wrap my arms around myself. I turn off the bubble- it wicks away as I pull off the control ring. I disconnect with a jolt, pins and needles racing across my scalp. The experience leaving me feeling too-large for my body, like I had woken from a dream.
The Bay was empty, the lights embedded in the walls at half strength. Sneezer must be taking advantage of being parked to run some tests on the engine. I climb from the cockpit to the smooth floors below. Noboro hands me down the package, I take it, wincing at the weight. He clambers down beside me.
"I will report success to the captain," Said Noboro, "You will take the package to the hold."
I nod, trying to look sincere. I knew what to do. I had been working for Captain since I was a child-long before Noboro had come aboard.
Seemingly satisfied, Noboro left my side to hunt down the captain, feline eyes well adjusted for the dim glow of the wall lights.
Loudly, I say, "Maysilee, light please." The nape of my neck prickled, and the lights brightened, sharpening the edges of the room and revealing the mess overflowing from Sneezer's toolbench. I sigh, "Maysilee, can you set a notification for Sneezer, remind him to clean up his station." She didn't respond but the lights pulsed for a moment.
Not having to rely on the darkvision provided by my goggles was nice. I took a set of stairs down to the Sister's belly. adjusting the package across my back until it was as comfortable as possible for what I confidently thought of as a bag of rocks.
I stashed the package among others in a wide drawer in the cargo hold. With how much cargo we had, our next stop would likely be an outpost.
My PIC chimed, I read the message.
Perfect, I couldn't wait to taste something other than sand.
Kon waved me over with a scarred scaly hand the size of a shovelhead. I said hi and he clicked his beak in a rough approximation of a greeting. Then he handed over a tray with two bowls of a thick orange stew and a stack of small oblong loaves.
I raised an eyebrow, "Feeling generous today, Kon?"
His long neck bobbed as he spoke, dragging out each word, "No… Bring a bowl up to… Beala… Working late tonight…"
"Sure thing," That I could do. It had been a while since I had shared a meal with her.
I took the stairs slowly, careful to balance my tray, I wasn't hungry enough to lick it up off the floor. Beala's room was the highest floor, just above the Bridge. It was also rather nice and spacious- a far cry from my own bunk deep in the bowels of the Sister.
Her door was plain, the same dark wood as the rest of the sister, with a small tag affixed above the handle reading: Navigator
I knocked twice. I go unanswered, so I open the door.
Beala's room is wide, the walls, ceiling and floor and all the surfaces but her cot are covered in an assortment of maps, compasses, astrolabes, Realm graphs, Innerspace mana charts, Wyvern migratory charts and more that I don't recognise.
"Beala." I call out, but I don't expect an answer. I know where she is. I walk around the table that takes up half the room- the top flexing under the weight of Beala's notes. At the back of the room is a pair of double doors, held open to a small balcony. There, I find Beala seated at a small table in a simple blue tunic and slacks, leaning against the railing, a small bronze device held to her eye. I join her, setting her bowl at the table.
I dig into my own meal. the bread is fresh and warm, and the stew is rich, the meat tearing apart easily under my spoon. It disappeared swiftly. I piled my dishes onto the tray and relaxed, letting the tension of the day soak away.
Below us the deck is empty, the crew waiting for the order to launch. The cage on the prow an empty, angry tangle of metal.
Beala sets down her instrument and types out a quick message on her PIC. Then she thanks me for the meal, and, tucking her salt and pepper braids behind her shoulders, digs in.
She was tearing a loaf into small into bite sized pieces before dropping them in her stew when we got the message.
I was surprised it had taken this long. Package picked up, everyone on board; Captain must have been waiting for Beala's message before launch.
Technically I was supposed to report to my quarters during a trip through Realmspace, but I wasn't bothered to leave. Beala's balcony had the best view.
Faintly, I felt a thrum run through the Sister. Then the ship was moving beneath us, tilting up then shooting higher.
Realmspace enveloped us, the Sister's environmental bubble the only thing between us and the cold empty black stretches. I felt a phantom hush in my ears, like going through a wind tunnel. Pressure without any force settling around my shoulders.
Then we were at the barrier. The pressure increased, then Realmspace was shrinking away to a point, and Innerspace unfolded around us.

