Brittle Vision

A trail of sweat was working its way between my shoulder blades. Trying not to knock myself or my load off balance, I squirmed within the pressure suit. I reached over and gently tugged on my safety line before moving further across the surface of the asteroid. When I reached the next sample point, I slid the hydraulic corer into the surface and peered at the tiny display. Almost completely pure and without a trace of oxides, M-37-Z was a promising new source of nickel, platinum and iridium for Thurman Consolidated. I pressed the stud on the analyzer and popped the newly labeled core out of the tool. I snagged it where it drifted, shoved it into the box I carried on my shoulder and tugged on the safety line again.

I glanced over my shoulder to see where Shea was. He was in mid-leap over a craggy projection approximately a meter high. His safety line floated slack behind him.

"Hey, slag-boy!" I scolded after keying the radio with my chin. "Did you even check your safety line? Or were you planning on launching yourself into orbit?"

I saw him jerk the line taut while he said, "Yes, Fedya. Why don't you smother Skip instead. He misses his mommy."

"Heaven knows she wouldn't miss you, Shea," Skip radioed from the TC scoutship hovering nearby.

I chuckled and called back. "Shut up, boys. I'm getting tired of lugging around these cores. Have you found a good spot yet, Shea?"

"I think so," he told me while he drifted about a quarter meter off the asteroid surface. He pointed to a small flat area on his right. "If you agree that the surface is stable, I thought I'd put a thruster there, another one about ten meters behind me and two steering units near to where you are now."

I nodded while eyeballing his sites. "That sounds good; I've sampled all around those areas and haven't come across any anomalies. Skip, does this ship's scan tell you anything?"

"Looks solid, Fedya, although the iridium is surprisingly pretty dense. You haven't seen any stress signs have you?"

"Nope," I replied. "I can see the main fracture plane where it must have broken off of its momma and a few impact craters, but no other catastrophic propagation. Have you had any word from TC? Do they want us to mark it theirs?" I pulled on my safety line again and moved another few meters to my right, keeping Shea in sight.

"They want you to ex'mit them the results so the docs can see it first."

"All right, all right. Let me take another sample and I'll come on in."

"I'm going to poke around a bit more and come in with you," Shea told me and turned away.

"Watch your safety line!" I barked at his back.

He gave me a mock salute and took a bounding leap, using his line to bring him back to the surface.

"Slackwit," I muttered under my breath as I moved more cautiously over the surface. Shea had taken to call me "Grandma" even though he was a good ten years older than me. It was easy enough for him to lope around; he didn't have a load of samples that massed as much as he did on his back. M-37-Z was only a few hundred meters across at its widest point; its gravity was negligible, which meant my samples weren't heavy, but our combined mass was enough that a wrong move would have launched me and samples into deep space. At the best, I would be embarrassed beyond measure. Superstition prevented me from even contemplating the worst and I made a warding gesture.

As I placed the corer against the surface for hopefully the last time, a reflective glint caught my eye less than a meter away.

"What the hell?" I mumbled as I crawled over to it. Embedded within a plane of nickel was a crystalline structure that refracted the light from my headlamp. I tapped the screen of the corer's scanning unit and pointed it at the object. I tapped a module on the display and saw a two-dimensional spinning pictograph that showed carbon-based polymer chains running through a ceramide matrix of silicon, carbon and boron.

I actually thought twice before I touched the object anyway. It slipped easily into my gauntleted hand and I could feel it vibrating slightly through the pressure suit's glove. I reflexively dropped it and watched while it drifted centimeters from my hand.

I keyed my radio again. "Skip, does the ship scan anything unusual near me?"

"Why?" he asked me. "What do you want me to look for? I thought you were coming in."

"Just scan for me, please. Look for any material or spectral anomalies"

"What's going on?" Shea asked.

"You have to see this, Shea," I told him. "Get over here."

"Fedya? We're still scanning only the base metals, lots of nickel. And I don't see any unusual spectrally either. Did you find something?" Skip radioed to us.

"I've definitely found something, but I have no idea what it is." Shea arrived and half-drifted facedown next to me. I pointed at the crystalline object and watched as he instantly reached out and grabbed it.

"Dag, Fedya, it's vibrating. What the hell is it?"

I shook my head again and keyed my radio. "It's some type of polymer fibers embedded in a silica matrix. I have no clue what's making it vibrate. I'll tell you one thing, though. This wasn't here when this asteroid formed."

Shea's helmet turned towards mine. The combination of his headlamp and faceplate polarizers blocked his expression, but I was fairly sure that it matched mine. He pressed his helmet to mine and spoke without keying the radio. The distant, tinny sound of his voice reached me.

"Do you think it's an artifact?"

"It must be," I told him with my helmet still pressed to his. "We're supposed to notify the Federation. I hope Thurman's got contingency plans for this sort of thing."

"They might not want to tell them until they've finished the mining."

"Let's 'mit them the details. We'll leave it up to them to report to the Feds."

Shea nodded and pulled his helmet away from mine. He handed the object to me and I placed it carefully into an inflatable sample container. Although not the first artifact to be found on the Belt, I had never heard of anything of such complex construction. If they spun the story correctly, the object could bring Thurman Consolidated Mining considerable revenues, however my guess was that they'd wait until the asteroid was mined out before turning M-37-Z over to the Federation's archaeological team.

"Guys! Guys! Get back to the ship! We've got a bogey on the horizon line!" Skip's bark caused me to startle so hard I left the surface. I grabbed the safety line and double-checked that I hadn't left any of my supplies behind.

"Whose ship?" demanded Shea over the radio.

"I can't tell. Shut up and get aboard!" Skip was yelling even as Shea and I bounded across the surface and began to pull ourselves towards the Rocky Lady. We both squeezed into the one-man airlock and I feared that Shea could feel my heart pounding through our suits. As the lock pressurized, I stifled a laugh as Shea squirmed with his hands in the air. On the all-clear light, we burst into the cargo cabin and I pried my helmet off while working my jaw to equalize the pressure in my ears. Shea groaned in relief and grabbed both helmets. I stashed away the asteroid samples and pulled the mysterious artifact out of the pouch. I held it up the interior lights and gazed at the swirling strands within.

"You guys in yet?" Skip asked through the intercom while I replaced the crystal in its pouch. "I'm bugging out before they get here."

I glanced at the lock to make sure both doors were sealed and gave Skip the go-ahead. "Are the transponders sending?" I asked him, checking to be sure that Thurman's mark was on the asteroid.

"All set, now hold on!"

Shea and I scuttled over to the bulkhead and clipped ourselves into the jump seats there.

"I'm dying to get this suit, off," I told him. "I wish we had a few more minutes."

Shea rolled his eyes and I felt the surging of the Lady's engines. After a moment, Skip spoke again. "We're stable. Come on up if you want."

We performed a quick-change and hung the suits on their hooks. I gently transferred the crystalline artifact to a belt case on my jumpsuit. I felt a tug on my braid and turned to face Shea, hanging upside down relative to my position.

"Ready? Let's go see who are visitors are."

Shea let me precede him into the cockpit where Skip waited. I planted a kiss on Skip's bald skull, I thanked him for getting us out.

"Any idea who's on that ship?" I asked, pointing to the outline of what appeared to be an Abrams light-ship on the display.

"I hate to say it Fedya, but it looks like freeboaters."

"Pirates?" Shea demanded. "Dag. There's not that much platinum on that rock. Thurman hasn't even started mining yet."

"Do they know we're here yet?" I asked.

"Don't be stupid, Fedya. If we can see them, they can certainly see us," Shea frowned while he tried to get a closer look at the display.

I smacked the back of his head. "Don't be smart. Are they pursuing us?" I asked Skip.

"Uh, can't tell. They're behind the rock right now. Oh, frags! Here they come! Passengers, please return to your seats and fasten your safety harnesses. We're headin' out!"

Shea and I leapt to our seats, situated slightly behind Skip's. I tried futilely to look behind us through the forward-facing port.

"Do you want us to do anything?" Shea asked.

"Just shut up and let me drive. That's what they pay me for," Skip snapped back. The Rocky Lady wasn't as powerful as the Abrams in pursuit, but as a retrofitted scoutship, she was far more maneuverable through the asteroid field, which unfortunately for us, was not particularly dense in this region. I pressed my lips together and hoped we weren't carrying anything the pirates were eager to have.

Suddenly the cabin lit up with an artificial light and the ship jerked to starboard.

"Are they firing on us?" Shea demanded of me.

"Felt like proto-cannon fire to me. Probably a warning shot."

"You hope," he retorted. He was right, I was hoping desperately. Compared to their armament, we were probably carrying toys. I found myself longing for the heavy gravity and swimming pools of Earth.

"Crap," Skip announced. "Listen to this." He tapped one of the screens and the boom of a transmitted voice filled the cabin. "Rocky Lady, this is the free-ship Condor 5. We are monitoring you. You have twenty seconds to stand by for boarding."

I leaned forward as far as the straps would allow. "Can we outrun them?"

Skip glanced at the display, then quickly at Shea before grinning. "We can sure as hell try. Hang on ladies!" I was pressed back as Skip began evasive maneuvers.

I would swear that Skip was waiting his entire life for the opportunity to outrun real-life space pirates. Frankly, I was content with my experiences when I first started working for Thurman. An inadvertent squeak slipped past my lips as Skip skimmed the Lady close enough to a rock that I thought we'd bounce of the surface. Shea gave me a dark look and mouthed, "Backseat driver."

I stuck my tongue out at him and nearly bit through it as another blast from the Condor rocked the ship.

"Damn," Skip said. "They've knocked out our comms. Hold on!" Our little ship bucked as we dove, reversed and swooped under the Condor upside down relative to the other ship. I had to cover my mouth to keep quiet and gave Shea a dark look while he whooped.

"There's a field of smaller rocks ahead!" Skip shouted and maneuvered the Lady towards them. "They're densely packed. That Abrams won't be able to keep up."

We entered the field, which I could tell from a glance consisted mostly of non-metallic asteroids. That meant that there wasn't likely to be too many other ships about, which could be good news or bad. When the Abrams had slipped far enough behind to be out of visual range, Skip cut the main engines and maneuvered us into position between two relatively small rocks. The Condor could probably locate us, but wouldn't be able to come close enough to do us any real harm.

I sighed with relief and unbuckled. "Now we wait them out," I said and pushed away from the chair and stretched.

"Anyone hungry?" Shea asked.

"I'll have whatever you're fixing," I told him and moved back into the cargo bay. I was pleased that nothing was disturbed during our wild ride. I checked several of the crates that were fastened to the deckplates and examined the samples I had brought back from M-37-Z. The rock's relatively high platinum and iridium concentration could bring a fortune to Thurman and as the crew who had claimed it, we would be well compensated. That is, if the Federated Archaeological Survey didn't lay claim to it first. I drifted cross-legged and pulled the artifact from my belt and looked at it again, trying to divine its purpose. Was it a work of art? Or did it serve some mundane purpose? I peered into its depths again and then on impulse I held it to my forehead.

"What are you doing?" Shea asked as he tossed a procarb bar in my direction. I snagged it with my left hand and replaced the crystal into the pouch.

"Hmm, nothing, I was just trying to figure out what that artifact is for."

He shrugged. "Beats me. I'm just hoping that we can outlast that Abrams."

"Well, if they're really pirates, there's no need for them to stick around." I unwrapped the bar and took a big bite . "Still," I muttered around a mouthful of food. "We don't exactly have anything valuable on board and the asteroid isn't going to do them much good until after Thurman starts processing and refining."

Shea gestured with the remains of his snack. "Do you think they're after that thing you found?"

"The artifact? I sincerely hope not. I don't know how they'd know about it, but if they do, the Condor's crew, they're probably not too likely to go away anytime soon."

Skip came back to join us. "They haven't moved yet," he told us. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Why do you think the Condor is after us?" I asked him.

"Whatever it is, we can outwait them," Skip said with his usual confidence. "They'll never get their ship out here."

I stared at him for a moment while he rubbed at his skull. "Well," I said. "I'm sure there's something to do around here while we wait them out." Both men rolled their eyes in unison, but quickly set to work.

After an inspection of our cargo of asteroid samples, Shea and Skip retired to the bridge to perform an analysis of the surrounding asteroids. I was fairly certain that the "analysis" would probably degenerate into a friendly game of no-dice.

I settled into one of the bunks and pulled out the artifact again. The faceted thing fit comfortably in my hand and still hummed like a kitten. I stared again into its depths, trying to follow the track of one of the swirling chains within. A yellow strand snaked and wound through the crystal and I tried to locate its terminus. The cursed thing was tightly bound with other strands of bright fluorescent colors all mingling with more muted fibers. I was sure I was close to locating the end when I felt drawn by the feather touches of an echoing strand I hadn't noticed. My vision tugged me away into a mass of fibers so dense as to resemble a solid seething mass. At first very faint, a light appeared that must indicate the fiber's end. It grew in brightness, taking on a spherical form with the beckoning strand leading to its very center. I followed with abandon until my vision filled with its entirety. Every nerve in my body hummed in sync with the crystal and an almost physical sensation of light and movement filled me.

I balked

"Fedya! Dag, Fedya! The proximity alarms are sounding. The Condor's on its way. Fedya!" I blinked blearily at Skip's face, my eyes continually catching on the lamp's reflection off of his head.

I grabbed his arm with my free hand. "Skip, I can take us out of here."

"Fedya, are you alright? What happened?"

I pocketed the purring artifact into its pouch and bounced off the bunk. "Shea!" I yelled as I pushed Skip aside and pulled my way out of the room. "Shea! I can take us out of here," I repeated for his benefit. "This damn thing is a transporter. I can take us anywhere!"

Shea turned around in the seat and gave me a worried look. "Fedya, we don't have time for this. The Condor's here. Skip, get in gear!"

"Sure thing," Skip said while he squirmed past me and pulled himself into the pilot's chair. "Belt up, Fedya, we're moving out."

I barely had time to fasten myself to the seat next to Shea when the ship lurched into sudden motion. I gasped as I was pressed against the chair's restraints during the ship's sudden acceleration. I leaned forward and glanced at the display.

"We're not going to make it," I told them. "I'm telling you, I can use the artifact to get us out of here."

Shea suddenly reached over and snatched the pouch off of my belt. "Hey!" I yelled at him. "We need that if we're going to make it out of here."

He gripped my arm and squeezed tight. "Shut up Fedya. I'm only telling you this once, but if you don't keep quiet and let Skip jockey this ship, I will be forced to physically restrain you." He let go of me and clipped the pouch to his own belt. "I don't know what this thing is, but it's scrambled your circuits."

I had a particularly sharp reply ready, but the Condor fired upon us, spoiling my opportunity.

"Shards!" Skip yelled. "Hold on, we've been hit." He leaned forward and tapped the code to cut the fuel to the main engines. "We've only got maneuvering engines." They were the low power engines used for docking and other actions requiring delicate control. Our momentum continued to carry us at a good clip, but the Condor loomed large in the display.

I began to worry that in such a dense field, the Rocky Lady could easily smash into one of the drifting bits of debris.

"Stop the ship," I leaned forward and told Skip. My lip twitched as he looked back at Shea for his tiny nod of confirmation. Skip immediately began engaging the maneuvering engines, reversing our momentum and bringing us to a relative stop. I sighed and nodded at the little plastic hula girl jiggling on top of the blank comms display.

"Lady," I whispered. "I hope you're watching us." I pressed my fist to my forehead in a quick gesture of protection and turned to Shea. "I wasn't lying, I think I can use that artifact to take us away from here." I was desperately afraid of the thought of pirates when we were isolated without comms or engines.

Shea clutched protectively at the pouch at his waist. "No way, Fedya. I'd rather face a known hazard." He looked to Skip, who nodded in agreement.

We'd always handled things in a relatively democratic fashion, but I was surprised they'd so quickly squelched my idea. Still, I wasn't one to pout when the nickel cracked, so I simply nodded my own agreement.

Shea and Skip unbuckled and we pulled ourselves into the cargo bay. "Blasters?" Skip asked me. I think he was trying to show that me that there were no lingering hard feelings.

I thought for a moment. We could probably take out a couple of them as they entered the lock, but then an Abrams that size could easily hold a crew of twenty. I shook my head, "I've never heard of the Condor, but I hope that they'll leave us in peace once they realize we're not carrying anything. No point in dying pointlessly."

The boys frowned at my refusal to let them go out fighting and I felt a little bit smug at foiling their plans. I surveyed the cargo bay while we waited in silence for the Condor to sync with us. The lock itself was all the way aft on the port side of the ship. Strapped to the walls and floor were crates of various sizes, most of which contained samples from rocks we had surveyed in the region. The rest contained food and other supplies designed to keep three people on a small scoutship from eating or shooting each other. We felt a slight bump as the Condor matched their momentum with ours and finally synced with us. Skip looked for my nod and then triggered the manual control to open the inner door when the pressure across the ships equalized.

Five crewmembers from the significantly larger Condor pulled their way through the lock into our cargo bay. Two men and two women filed in first. The one I assumed to be their leader followed, and as he closed the inner lock and turned towards us I was suddenly grateful for weightlessness, for otherwise I might have fallen to the floor at the sight of him.

"Jenson?" I whispered.

"Ah, Fedya, I thought that was your voice across the ether."

I tugged at the seals of my jumpsuit. "Jenson, I saw you die. You and the remainder of the crew of the Falmouth."

He grinned at me. "It will take a lot more than the Feds to bring me down, Fedya. You have no faith."

To say that Jenson Baines was filled with roguish charm would be to only scar the surface of the truth. We had worked together on Thurman's rocks for three years before his untimely supposed death. I still had sweat dreams where I watched the Falmouth explosively decompress. Obviously, he at least had escaped from the Federation fire. He had chafed under their authority then and probably exulted in thwarting them now. He was all buckle and swash from boot-tips to the top of his dark head.

Shea and Skip gaped at me while I barked at Jenson. I was burned that he hadn't contacted me after escaping the Falmouth and I didn't care if he could hear it in my voice. "Jenson, what do you want that was important enough to fire on us?" I quickly calculated the estimated worth of M-37-Z and while it was considerable, even for a pirate like Jenson, raw metals were extremely hard to refine and sell and unless he was running an underground smelting operation, I doubt it would be worth the effort. Not that Thurman wouldn't fight like hell to keep the rock in any event. I waited with my arms crossed for Jenson's explanation.

Jenson glanced quickly at his silent crew, who stood expressionless. "We're hunting alien artifacts, Fedya. They're portable and are in fashion with the movers on Earth."

"And I should care?" I demanded, suddenly realizing what he had come here for. I hoped Shea and Skip could keep as steady as Jenson's crew, but I didn't risk glancing at them. A tiny crack of an idea was propagating within my head and I would need their cooperation.

"We've gathered several interesting alien tools in this vicinity and have reason to believe that there may be one or more objects on your asteroid. It would be a shame for those greedy frogs on the Federation Archaeological Survey to get their hands on them and keep them from the deprived public." Jenson narrowed his eyebrows and put on a sincere expression.

Shea spat, "Such a noble cause. We're not children here, Jenson. You can save the vacuum talk for the parole board."

Jenson smiled slowly and continued. "In any case, whatever our motives, we believe that you have located one of the objects. We'd like it, please. Now."

Shea and Skip were a credit to our company, for they didn't flinch and I was fairly certain I kept my own expression neutral. I gazed at both of them as though asking an unexpressed question.

"We haven't found anything like that," I finally told Jenson. "That hunk of rock should bring in quite a bit of cash for Thurman. Maybe you should come back then and prey on the miners."

One of Jenson's crew snorted and earned a glare from his mates.

"Please Fedya. Look at it this way: we know you haven't notified Thurman of the find. We'll liberate it from you and save them the trouble of notifying the Federation. They'll be able to mine their rock instead of turning it over to the Feds and I'll be able to sell it to an eager buyer earthside. What could be simpler?"

I shook my head. "You should have resorted to peddling moon rocks to tourist types, it would suit you better. We don't have any artifacts, Jenson." I pointed at him, "You look at it this way: if you leave now, we won't report you to Thurman or to the Federales." I decided not to mention that if they left us here, we'd be effectively marooned. Besides, I had ideas of my own.

Jenson stood silently for a moment and then said, "Fedya, all of the artifacts that we have located to date have had certain materials and structure in common. I have a member on board the Condor who can bring on a hand-held scanner and more of my crew to locate the object, but I would prefer that you save us all the effort and time and hand the object over." He pressed his lips together. "I'm through playing games, Fedya," he said in a barely audible tone.

My mouth suddenly dried and again I was glad for the lack of betraying gravity. "Why does it mean so much to you? It's more than the money, isn't it?"

Jenson suddenly grinned at me and clapped his hands together, sending him drifting slowly towards the bulkhead. "It's a piece of a tremendous puzzle. Each piece we've found has been increasingly sophisticated. Between us," he gestured to include everyone in the room, "I cannot prove it yet, but each artifact has led me to the next. I believe they're powerful tools, not just common artifacts."

Shea spoke up, "Jenson, if that line of yours is true, you really should talk to the Federation. They have the resources for stuff like this."

"Yeah," Skip interrupted. "They'd probably be willing to forgive any charges, uh, if there are any." He trailed off with a sheepish grin.

"Are you two finished?" I asked them. I surveyed his crew. The two women hovering to Jenson's left looked to be sisters. They both stood almost a handbreadth taller than Jenson and glared in our direction with narrowed eyes and thinned lips, although I could have sworn that one of them was trying to restrain a twitchy grin. The other two men could have been plucked from the same rogue's gallery as Jenson, although Jenson was not one to normally select personnel lightly. They all appeared to be well-armed and clearly overmatched us.

I glanced at my own men and steeled my shoulders. "I'll fetch the thing for you, Jenson." I held up a warning finger as he opened his mouth to interrupt. "If you promise to let us go in peace. We can make things very difficult for you."

The eyebrow rose again as I continued, "Before you boarded us, Skip activated the ship's self-destruct voice command. If one of us doesn't disarm the order in," I glanced at my wrist, "approximately four minutes, both ships will be blown out of existence, including the artifacts." I crossed my arms and met his gaze.

Jenson looked at each of us and snorted. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" I held his gaze, letting him chew on the logic. I was sure I had him. I contained my excitement as his eyes dimmed in doubt, when Skip burst into sudden laughter. I snapped my head to watch the betraying little cretin as he drifted towards the ceiling, bent double. Shea just looked at me and we both frowned in unison.

"I had to try," I told Jenson, hoping I didn't sound too apologetic. I was no longer afraid for our lives as an urgent plan literally crystallized within me. "Wait a moment, I'll go get the artifact." I forced a wan smile.

He grinned back at me as I turned to Shea and nodded. He eyed me with pinched eyebrows as he pulled the pouch from his belt. He handed it to Shea with a warning. "Don't touch it with your bare hands. I think it has some strange side effects."

Jenson nodded and held up a gloved hand. "I know," he told Shea. "I've had to lock up one of my crew, who was studying one of the artifacts."

I barely heard him while we watched Jenson pull the artifact out of the pouch and held it up to the bay's lights for inspection. It caught the light and I could see the yellow tendril that I knew could take us away. In a single smooth motion I pushed off of the bulkhead beside me and launched myself at Jenson. Shea was moving to intercept me, but I was easily able to knock him aside. Now shoved off course, however, I crashed into Jenson, slamming us both against the inner lock door. As we ricocheted, I planted an elbow in his stomach and lurched again for the stone, which was arcing away from us.

Jenson's crew was in my way and I wasted precious moments and momentum in shoving the two women aside while I reached for the stone, which had inconveniently bounced off of the solid cranium of one of Jenson's men. I twisted in mid-air, and pushed against the back of one of the women and was able to change my direction towards the artifact.

I couldn't suppress a bark of triumph as my hand closed about the artifact even as I caught sight of Shea hurtling towards me. He was too late, as I touched the stone, I became entwined within the yellow threads and let them draw me and the entire ship along them.

Time and motion froze while we moved in a direction no human had before named. I was able to see our path, clear and luminous within the crystal as I moved my body amongst the stiffened crewmembers. I took a moment to stare at their frozen faces and forms. I knew where we traveled and knew we would not stray from the path. I wormed my way out of Shea's immobile grip and pushed past Skip to where an inert Jenson huddled against the bulkhead. I studied his static features, tightened into a fierce grimace, steel blue eyes staring past me. I wondered what they gazed at now, in this moment between moments.

I felt for the path within the crystal and realized that we neared its end. When we reached the waypoint, life and motion returned to the cargo hold. I watched the erupting chaos in silence until Skip's shout caused everyone to notice me sitting cross-legged above one of our storage crates. The artifact drifted idly just in front of me still humming, but no longer seething with internal motion. Shea shot over and snatched it away from me using a freshly gloved hand while I smiled at him and nodded.

"Enough games, Fedya!" He shouted at me. "I don't know what has gotten to you, but you are not to touch this thing again."

I sighed and nodded and felt an almost psychic tugging towards the thing as he returned it to its pouch and handed it to Jenson.

"Captain, I hope you don't hold her actions against us," Shea told Jenson solemnly while I smiled placidly. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Skip moving to the bridge.

Jenson watched me with his icy gaze while he nodded to Shea.

"Don't worry," Jenson said. "I have what I want now." He turned around and gathered his crewmates by eye. "It's time to go," he told them. "We've spent too much time here as it is."

He turned back to me. "Move aside, Fedya. We're leaving."

"Where are you going to go?" Skip called from entrance to the bridge.

His tone stopped Jenson at the entrance to the airlock. He turned back and looked to Skip.

"What do you mean, boy?" Jenson asked while one his male crewmembers began to fidget. Jenson tossed his head to one of the women, the taller one. She nodded.

"Caty? You readin' Caty?" she asked into her wrist and waited for the reply that I knew wasn't coming. "Caty?" she called again and shot a dark look at me where I hadn't moved.

"Don't bother," Skip told them. "The Condor is gone."

"We're gone," I corrected him. "I left the Condor behind You're with us now, Jenson." I unkinked my legs and pulled my way over to Skip. I could feel their gazes on me, but I pointedly ignored them and went to the bridge to check the displays. The ship's computer was busy calculating our location based on the spectral readings and relative positions of visible stars. I watched the busy wheel spin on the display and reviewed the possibilities as they popped up, sorted in the order of probability. The numbers changed and shifted with one of the locations moving from likely to certain. We were more than fifty light-years from our solar system. I wondered idly where the other threads would take us.

"Where are we?" Jenson asked as he slid into the chair next to me.

I jabbed a figure at the display. I'd say we're about here," I pointed at Tau Bootes on the two-dimensional star map.

Jenson turned and gaped at me. "What the hell have you done?" he demanded.

I grinned at him. "I took us away. I wanted to do it earlier, before you arrived, but Shea and Skip vetoed the idea." I shrugged. "It's really your fault, if you hadn't jumped us, you wouldn't be stuck here with us now."

Shea poked his head into the bridge where we were sitting. "Did you guys figure out where we are?"

I nodded. "We're near Tau Boo; isn't that great?"

Shea's eyes widened. "Dag, Fedya that's over fifty light years from the Belt."

I bounced up and grabbed his hands. "Isn't it wonderful? The aliens could teleport. We teleported here."

He gripped my hands and peered into my eyes. "That's great Fedya," he said slowly. "Do you think you can teleport us back?"

I looked down at his hands. "Maybe," I told him. "I don't know, I just wanted to get away." I looked up and met his gaze, finally giving him a slow wink. An almost blissful state of isolation and distance filled me and my thoughts danced with possibility.

Shea didn't release my hands as Skip cleared his throat from the entrance to the bridge. "Systems look good. Air circulation and life support are running fine. Power supplies are adequate." He shrugged. "Unless we run out of food, we should be all right for a few days." He looked over at Jenson. "I say we eat the Captain here first."

I looked back at Jenson. "We might just do that, although I bet he's a bit stringy."

Jenson only frowned at me and poked at several of the displays, cursing. I watched him for a moment and then nodded to Shea and Skip. We left Jenson on the bridge and moved back into the cargo bay where Jenson's crew waited, huddled near the airlock.

One of the women looked up. "Where's Jenson?" she asked.

I gestured with my head. "He's back on the bridge," I told her. "I think he's trying to figure out how a bit of gum and a micro-torch can get the ship's engines working again."

She smiled briefly, then asked, "What's our situation?"

"Not good," Shea said. "We've lost comms and engine control."

She pointed at one of Jenson's men. "Chym here is a pretty good comms tech; he might be able to get you up and running again.

The young man in question bounced up and grinned. "I might have to go EVA, but I bet I can get it going. You'll be calling your mom in no time."

"That's great," Skip said. "But it'll take a while to get to her. We're fifty-one light years from home."

"What?" she asked. "What the hell happened?" She turned and turned hotly narrowed eyes at me.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "I took us away."

"Away from what?" She threw her hands into the air. "Civilization? All of our troubles?"

"Shut up, Dean," said Jenson from behind me. "Fedya can take us back, she just lost it for a minute there. Alien artifacts are not something to be trifled with, eh?"

"I'm standing right here, Jenson," I snapped at him. The bastard was really ruining my mood. "I've neither died nor gone deaf."

"This is just great, Jenson," said the other man who hadn't budged from his position by the lock. "This was supposed to be a quick run. You said they'd roll right over, we'd pick up the artifact and leave. Well, the leaving part hasn't gone so good." He pulled at the cuffs of his jumpsuit and I would have sworn that he was pouting.

"Penn, this isn't the end of the universe," Jenson said. "Like I said, Fedya can take us back to the Condor. Nothing's changed." He turned to Shea. "Give Fedya the stone, so we can get going."

I snorted. "Don't move a muscle, Shea." He looked at me briefly and nodded his head a tiny fraction, mimicking my pose by crossing his own arms. I turned on Jenson and smiled at him again. "I kind of like Tau Boo," I told him. I reached over and put my arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "Why should I leave here, Jenson? My friends and my enemies are with me. If we went back to the Condor, I'd only be watching my friends die. What fun is that?" I pulled back and kissed his cheek. I shoved him then, sending us both sailing through the cargo bay. A quick somersault and halted my progress and I grabbed one of the packing straps and turned in time to see Jenson rebounding off the bulkhead.

I laughed aloud, letting a wild edge come into my voice. Skip was staring at me with wide eyes, while Shea placed a careful hand over his mouth. Jenson's crew studied us all, unsure of what to do next.

"You crazy rock queen," Jenson snarled at me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jenson. Neither are you. Unless...."

Jenson rolled his eyes. "You're wasting time, Fedya. What do you want?" He moved over to where his crew stood stone-faced. Dean played idly with her blaster, turning it end over end.

"If I decide to take us all back to the Condor, I have a few conditions."

"Conditions? Hah!" said the woman who stood next to Dean.

"Shut up, Melsa," Penn said. He looked to me, "What are your conditions?"

"You help us either repair our comms or call Thurman Consolidated for us."

Jenson nodded. "And?" he went on.

"And you leave the artifact with us."

"No way, Fedya. You've caused us enough trouble as it is. I'm certainly not leaving empty-handed with you able to identify us."

I shrugged. "Well, you've made your choice then. Maybe we'll get to eat you after all." I turned back to Shea and Skip. "Come on, guys. Let's grab a bite to eat out from the galley. We'll save Captain Baines for later."

Jenson stammered while my crew and I laughed and moved towards the galley. I knew Jenson was going to cave. He wasn't one for cold-blooded murder or he probably would have already shot one of the guys to get me to cooperate. I realized, too, that he probably knew that I'd probably let him get away with the artifact. At least I'd get to use it one more time.

"Hold it right there," came a deep voice from behind us. We turned and faced Penn who was pointing his armed blaster towards us.

"Penn..." began Melsa.

"I'm only telling you this one more time, Melsa. Shut. Up." He turned to Jenson. "You too, Captain. You've botched this operation from the beginning. I'm relieving you of command."

"What are you talking about, Penn?" Jenson asked him. He maintained an aggressive stance, but a tiny twitch above his left eye was betraying him. I pushed aside painful thoughts of the last time I had seen that twitch aboard the doomed Falmouth.

Penn turned his blaster on him. "I won't hesitate to burn a hole in any of you."

"Neither will I," said Melsa, whose own gun was now pointed at Penn. "Give me the blaster, Penn."

"I don't think so, Melsa. You'll have to take it from me."

Melsa's eyes narrowed and she moved without hesitation to blast Penn into his core molecules. It might have worked, too. Might have, if her weapon had any power. Chortling, Penn shot the useless weapon away from her hand and turned the gun back on us. I had to pry my fingers from my zipper again.

"Jenson, you, Chym, Dean and Melsa move to those crates. I apologize, but I disarmed the guns before we came over. Except mine, of course." He gestured with the gun in question and Jenson and the remains of his crew moved to where he pointed.

"I'll deal with you in a moment," Penn told them and turned to where Shea, Skip and I waited. "You," he pointed the blaster at my middle. "You are taking us back to the Condor or I will begin by shooting your crew."

"That's an empty threat," I told him. "They're dead anyway, because you'll have to shoot them. At least it will be faster than starving to death here."

He shrugged. "I don't really need you Fedya. You're not special. I could shoot you all and figure it out myself."

"You wouldn't," I told him. I could handle Jenson Baines. I was fairly certain I knew his limits, but Penn I knew nothing at all about.

"I don't want to," he said. "But I am sure that I would be forgiven. I have the authority to use whatever force is justified to remedy the situation."

Jenson could keep quiet no longer. "Authority? Whose authority?" he demanded while Dean placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"By the authority of the Federation," Penn stated smugly. "I am an employee of the Federation Archaeological Survey. When we return, if we all return, I am placing you and your crew under arrest for acts of piracy, trafficking in alien artifacts, the unlawful concealment of artifacts from the Federation and whatever other charges I come up with between now and then."

I sighed. As a Federation agent, he was committed to preserving life. If I could overcome his apparent panic, we could all make it back alive. "If I agree to take us back, will you let us go?" I asked him.

Penn looked at me and smiled. "Now you're being a bit more reasonable."

I nodded and turned to Shea. "The stone, please."

"Are you sure, Fedya? Do you know how this thing works?" he asked while he withdrew the artifact's protective pouch off of his belt. I had to fight to keep my hands still and not reach for it.

"I'm sure," I told him and held out my hand. He released the pouch and I snatched it out of the air and withdrew the object. I could see Penn watching me from the corner of my eye. He wiped away sweat with his forearm and scowled at me.

I held the artifact up to the light and peered into it. I could feel myself sinking into its interior, but I fought the sensation and instead hurled the artifact at Penn's head.

Penn let out a cry and held up his hands to ward off the artifact. I had suspected that he was terrified of touching it, and sure enough he contorted his body trying to avoid the hurtling stone.

I launched myself off of the bulkhead towards Penn before the artifact bounced harmlessly off of his covered chest. I grabbed the stone on the bounce and struck Penn high on the shoulder with a balled fist in the next moment. Jenson was already there and wrestled the blaster away from Penn.

Gasping, Penn pushed me away and lunged towards Jenson, but Chym and I were able to restrain him even as Jenson pointed the blaster at Penn.

"Fedya," he ordered. "Take us back. Now."

I nodded and immediately began to study the crystalline artifact, looking for the yellow thread that I somehow knew would take us back to the Condor. The thing eluded me, however, and I would catch sight of the sinuous form only to have it drift behind another thread. As I pursued it within the matrix, I began to see it less and less often. Near panicked, convinced that I wouldn't see it again if I missed it, I lurched for it and grabbed.

Suddenly, I was back in the ship again, in the strange suspended animation that we felt before during transport. Heartened, I moved away from Penn and Jenson and back to where Skip and Shea hovered motionless. I pushed past them and went into the galley. I pocketed the stone and grabbed a procarb bar while I waited for us to arrive. In the back of my mind I could still feel the artifact's presence and maintained a subconscious grip on the thread.

I had just finished my snack when motion returned to the cargo bay. Everyone collectively sighed and looked around for me. I waved and said, "I guess we're here." I grinned at their cheers and went over to where Chym and Melsa were now restraining the struggling Penn. Shea bolted for the bridge to confirm our position.

I wasn't worried. I knew we were home.

I turned back to a squirming Penn. "What do you want to do with him?" I asked Jenson.

"I should just space him, here and now," Jenson growled and smiled wickedly at Penn's panicked reaction. "But that would be murder."

I nodded. "Murdering a Federation agent is a serious charge, Jenson. More serious than simple acts of piracy."

"Or dealing in alien artifacts."

"Maybe you can work something out," I added, but we got no further in our banter. In a blur, Penn broke away from Chym and Melsa and launched himself at Jenson, knocking me aside in the process. Chym caught me on the rebound and helped steady me.

"What is it with this trip?" he grumbled in my ear while we watched Jenson and Penn wrestle. In a blink it was over with Penn kneeling over Jenson, pressing the blaster against the back of Jenson's neck.

"Don't anyone move!" he shouted at all of us, even though we weren't going anywhere. He eyes darted wildly through the bay while he continued to shout "don't move" with every breath.

"Man, he's whacked," Chym whispered to me again.

I only nodded, not taking my eyes off of Penn. "It's okay, Penn," I finally addressed him. "You're in charge, here. Now relax and tell us what you have in mind." I tried to keep my voice soft and even, hoping he'd buy my sincerity, while I wondered if I'd be able to concentrate enough to see the threads twitching within the artifact.

"This is your fault," he told me. "You had to touch that, that thing. You've completely destroyed my investigation."

"This is about a bloody investigation?" Jenson demanded from where Penn had him wedged on the floor. He grunted as Penn ground his knee deeper into his back while I took advantage of the opportunity to mentally focus on the stone. I had hoped my attunement was strong enough to contact it without using my visual senses. I closed my eyes to help me focus and within a moment I could feel the glowing threads, but I couldn't find the one I needed.

Something else caught my attention. A tiny star of light was winking at me from within the stone and with a rush it filled my vision and nearly overwhelmed me. I fought it down, captured it and brought myself back to the ship. I could hardly hear; my ears echoed with the presence of the bright fragment. I felt on the brink of breathtaking revelation.

Penn was still leaning over Jenson, mumbling into his ear, still pressing the blaster against the space on the back of Jenson's skull. From the corner of my eye, I saw Melsa move and raise one of the Lady's blasters, probably pulled from the rack behind her and Dean. A tight grimace crossed her face.

"No, wait!" I yelled at her. Her eyes moved to mine and Penn fired a single shot. Melsa instantly crumpled. Distantly, I heard Dean scream her name.

I let loose the light from within the crystal before Penn could regain control of Jenson and shoot us all. I directed the burst with my hands and fingers and a wave of heat distorted my vision.

Penn bloomed into a pyrotechnic pillar of sparks and fire; my eyes immediately began to water. Jenson scrabbled away from Penn and the only sound was a roaring that came from everywhere at once. When I couldn't bear the sensations a moment longer, I looked away and lowered my arms. The noise and light suddenly stilled, but green and purple afterimages continued to assault my vision. Blinking around the lights, I turned back to see Jenson was pulling himself up. I realized Chym was gripping my upper arm hard enough to bruise and Dean was holding Melsa's limp form. I assumed Shea was still on the bridge.

"Chym," I pleaded. "Let me go." He nodded, but didn't take his gaze off of Dean and Melsa.

"Is she dead?" he asked me.

I shrugged and we both moved over to Dean. We knew before we reached them that Melsa was definitely not dead for she was squalling and squirming in her sisters arms.

"Hold still, idiot," Dean scolded while not releasing her grip. "You, Chym, fetch me a medkit."

Chym nodded and took off while I leaned over them and tried to examine Melsa's wounds.

"How is she?" I asked Dean while Melsa panted.

"She's suffered worse; she always makes this much noise," Dean told me while Melsa let out a grunt I assumed was in protest. I winced as I saw the burn that cut through her jumpsuit and across her ribs. My nose wrinkled with the stink of charred flesh, but I was profoundly relieved that she was still alive.

"Where's Penn?" Melsa asked me through clenched teeth.

"Uh, he's gone now. Don't worry." I backed out of the way while Chym handed the medkit to Dean.

I backed right into Jenson who turned me around to face him. I saw Shea looming behind him.

"Where's Penn?" Jenson asked, echoing Melsa.

"I don't know," I told them while studying the zipper on my jumpsuit. "He's not here anymore. I sent him away."

Jenson stared at me and his eyes suddenly narrowed into their characteristic scheming gleam. His notion was so transparent and so preposterous that I immediately balked.

"Oh no," I told him, shaking my head and crossing my hands at the wrists. "I don't approve at all."

"Approve of what?" Shea demanded. "What the hell happened here?"

"Nothing happened," Jenson said. "Except for an accidental blaster discharge," he added at Melsa's "Hey!"

"No way, Jenson, there's too many people here," I protested.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about? We've murdered a federal agent."

"We did?" Jenson asked him. "I didn't see anyone murdered. Did you, Shea?"

While I listened to those two banter, I felt caught between drill and rock. I was forced to admit that I didn't regret banishing Penn to whatever hell he now resided in, but I've always been one to believe we all got what we rated eventually. I didn't want to drag my crewmates and friends whatever torment my own actions warranted.

"I guess I didn't," Shea went on, completely heedless of my tumbled thoughts, a slow smile growing on his face. "Did anyone else see anything?"

"Just a bright light," said Dean. "My poor dear sister must have accidentally shot herself in the confusion."

"Chym?" Shea asked.

"Huh," Chym said while scratching his head. "Sorry, I just woke up. What are we talking about?"

"Well that settles it then," said Jenson while he clasped Shea's hand to seal the gentlemen's agreement.

"Hey!" I interrupted. "Don't I have any say in this? What about Penn?"

Jenson draped a hand on my shoulder in mock sympathy. "Now Fedya, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you've been acting odd ever since you picked up that strange stone back at M-37-Z. We dropped Penn at Ceres-8 last time we were there; you must have heard one of us talking about him and concocted some sort of fantasy in your silly head."

"Yeah," said Dean. "Hallucinations, very bad, maybe you should get therapy."

"Delusions," said Shea

"Apparitions," whispered Melsa, who was immediately hushed by her sister.

"Don't look at me," shrugged Chym. "It's not like I knew the guy."

My jaw dropped as I looked at each one of them. "Slackwits, I'm surrounded by slackwits," I said. I couldn't help but bask a little bit in their support, strange and misguided perhaps. I belonged with them. Just as the artifact technically belonged to Thurman.

My future snapped into bright and brittle focus. My time digging rocks to fill Thurman Consolidated's coffers had come to a sudden end. New technologies and a new life beckoned.

I turned to Jenson "Have any vacancies?"

He frowned for only a moment. "It just so happens I just lost a crewmember back at Ceres-8. What do you know about asteroids?"

"More than you'll ever learn, fly-boy." I smiled at him.

Dean left Melsa's side and came over to Jenson. "You know, Caty's going to want to see that artifact."

Jenson tossed his head back and laughed. "If you let Caty at it, you'll be lucky to see it again," he told me. "He's the best though. You still willing?"

"Are you kidding? If he can help me figure out how the thing works, I'll have his pups," I said. And if we figure out how to get it out of my head all the better, I added to myself. I could see Jenson's face contort as he concocted strategies to turn a profit from the artifact without handing it to the authorities. In the meantime, I simply couldn't pass up a chance to spend more time with it.

"Oh," I remembered when I caught him loitering in the corner of my eye. "Shea? Are we really back? Did you contact the Condor?"

He nodded. "They've repaired their lock and are ready to re-dock whenever we're ready." He wore a slight worried frown and his words finally penetrated.

"I'm so sorry," I breathed. "I haven't thought at all. What are you going to tell Thurman about me?"

"Why nothing," he said and locked eyes with Jenson. "You don't think Skip and I would just watch you waltz away? Unless you've decided you don't need us anymore." He crossed his arms and tried to glare at me until Skip dissolved into guffaws. Again.

"You ruin everything," Shea reached across my shoulder and knocked Skip across the head. "You really have to learn some self-control."

I pushed Shea's arm out of my face and sent his entire body a few feet away. "What about the Lady?" I asked him while he grabbed onto a pipe.

He looked around the cargo bay with the crates and boxes bolted to every surface. "She belongs to Thurman. They won't waste her."

"C'mon Jenson, whaddya say?" Skip asked.

We were all staring at Jenson as he threw his hands into the air. "What's in it for me?"

"Jenson!" Dean scolded. "For crying out loud, of course you're all welcome. There's plenty of room in the Condor." She planted a booted foot against Jenson's butt and pushed him out of her way. "Caty will be thrilled to have a new toy to play with and something tells me you'll all earn your pay."

"I've got to pack," Skip yelped and bounced off. Shea began talking earnestly with Chym, Melsa and Dean.

The artifact lurked at the back of all of my senses and I fought to still it. I stepped back and watched the chaos for a moment.

Every rockhound knows there's always chaos in the Belt.

And always rocks.

I'd stuck with the rocks. I shouldn't be surprised that one was now stuck to me.

Copyright © 1999 by Jennifer Handforth

Jennifer "Jif" Handforth lives and works in the Virginia suburbs of Washington DC known as "Telco Valley."

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