The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,99

best way Denver had of describing it was alien, which felt too obvious.

But the differences between humans and the Li’Vin had never seemed more stark. A human ship—anything big enough to have a bridge, at least—would have stations for different tasks, usually all linked to a central command chair from which the captain issued orders and oversaw all functions as necessary. In smaller ships like the Jiminy, everything was condensed to be handled by one or two people in a cockpit. Regardless, there was sitting involved.

Here, there were no chairs. No separate stations. No obvious methods for controlling the ship at all. The room was spherical, roughly three meters in diameter, with smooth, featureless walls.

“Any ideas?” Dusty asked.

“Well, it’s a safe bet we have to go in,” Denver muttered.

His attempt at a graceful entry failed. Denver bit back a curse as he slipped with his first step inside. The surface obligingly roughened under his foot, but that didn’t help much with the angle, and Denver half walked, half stumbled to the bottom of the sphere. Laramie, proceeding more carefully, joined him a few seconds later. No one else elected to follow. Denver tested the floor beneath them. It seemed harder here, less inclined to adjust to suit their human needs. “So how does this thing work?”

“Haven’t really figured that out yet,” Laramie said. “This was as far as I got.”

“Hmm.” Well, when in doubt, go to the expert. “OPAL, you there?”

“I am, in fact, everywhere, Denver.”

“That’s a violation of privacy!” Zahn snapped.

“I am well versed in the laws of humanoid privacy, Captain Zahn. Rest assured, I won’t be spying on you in the toilet.”

“How do I know you’ll abide by that?”

“Are you implying there’s a compelling reason I’d want to spy on you in the toilet?”

Laramie laughed. “She has a point.”

“Haven’t you ever lived with a bot before, my good man?” It was Tonlet sounding reasonable again. Denver could hardly credit it. “They follow their directives to the letter. Human privacy is an ingrained directive for all bots.”

“My people have lived without interference from bots for over a generation. We settled in the dead zone of Titan X willingly.”

“It takes all types,” Denver murmured. Then louder, to the room in general: “OPAL, how is this ship controlled?”

“The primary living functions of this ship can be controlled by me.”

“But what about the propulsion system? Or defense system?”

Her voice paused. “I have access to an operations port that should open a means of physical interaction, but I have no way of telling what that means. The system is closed to me.”

“So you won’t be able to help fly the ship.”

“No, Denver. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, OPAL.” Laramie rubbed his hands together. “Open the port and let’s see what Denver and I can pull together.”

“Initiating access in three… two… one…”

Denver jolted as the floor began to move, spreading from the center into a flat disc that stopped once it hit about a meter across. For a moment he could barely breathe, waiting for something to pop out of the floor. A console, a headset, anything that would let them connect to the ship’s control system.

Thirty seconds, a minute…

Nothing.

“Maybe you need to ask for it?” Dusty suggested from the doorway, midway up the round wall. “Voice commands?”

“Worth a shot.” A lot of modern ships had voice-control options for their operations. They’d never had the money for the upgrade with the Jiminy, and OPAL’s presence hadn’t made it necessary, but…

If that was modern for humanity, what could he expect from a Li’Vin ship, even one that had been sitting around empty for a century? “Ship, provide external controls.” Nothing. “Authorize external controls.” Still nothing.

“Get your damn bot to help,” Zahn snapped. “You’re wasting time!”

Denver reminded himself that it was too late to take Gru up on his offer to help misdirect people back into space. He sighed. “OPAL, any idea about appropriate commands?”

“No, Denver. Perhaps you should try speaking in Li’Vin.”

“Very funny.”

Laramie sighed and took a step forward. “Maybe if we—” As soon as he reached the center of the disc, a beam of light flared upward from the floor, so bright it almost blinded Denver, who had to look away. The spectators in the doorway all cried out in alarm and surprise.

“Laramie!” Denver didn’t stop to think, just thrust his hand into the light, searching for his brother. It took a moment to register that it didn’t hurt. The brilliance cleared, and after a moment he could see