Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

sacrificing herself to save me - just as Captain Teid, in
the last moments of the Brightly, had given herself to save Pael. And
my duty was to complete the job. So I stabbed and threaded, over and
over, as the flimsy hides came tumbling out of that hole, slowly
dying.
    At last no more hides came.
    I looked up, blinking to get the salt sweat out of my eyes. A few
hides were still tumbling around the interior of the pod, but they
were inert and out of my reach. Others had evaded us and gotten stuck
in the tangle of the ship’s structure, too far and too scattered to
make them worth pursuing further. What I had would have to suffice. I
started to make my way out of there, back through the tangle, to the
location of our wrecked yacht, where I hoped Pael would be
waiting.
    I looked back once. I couldn’t help it. The Ghosts were still
clustered over the ripped pod roof. Somewhere in there, whatever was
left of Jeru was still fighting. I had an impulse, almost
overpowering, to go back to her. No human being should die alone. But
I knew I had to get out of there, to complete the mission, to make
her sacrifice worthwhile.
    So I got.
     
    Pael and I finished the job at the outer hull of the Ghost
cruiser.
    Stripping the hides turned out to be as easy as Jeru had
described. Fitting together the Planck-zero sheets was simple too -
you just line them up and seal them with a thumb. I got on with that,
sewing the hides together into a sail, while Pael worked on a rigging
of lengths of rope, all fixed to a deck panel from the wreck of the
yacht. He was fast and efficient: Pael, after all, came from a world
where everybody goes solar-sailing on their vacations.
    We worked steadily, for hours.
    I ignored the varying aches and chafes, the increasing pain in my
head and chest and stomach, the throbbing of a broken arm that hadn’t
healed, the agony of cracked bones in my foot. And we didn’t talk
about anything but the task in hand. Pael didn’t ask what had become
of Jeru, not once; it was as if he had anticipated the Commissary’s
fate.
    We were undisturbed by the Ghosts through all of this.
    I tried not to think about whatever emotions churned within those
silvered carapaces, what despairing debates might chatter on
invisible wavelengths. I was, after all, trying to complete a
mission. And I had been exhausted even before I got back to Pael. I
just kept going, ignoring my fatigue, focusing on the task.
    I was surprised to find it was done.
    We had made a sail hundreds of metres across, stitched together
from the invisibly thin immature Ghost hide. It was roughly circular,
and it was connected by a dozen lengths of fine rope to struts on the
panel we had wrenched out of the wreck of the yacht. The sail lay
across space, languid ripples crossing its glimmering surface.
    Pael showed me how to work the thing. ’Pull this rope, or this
one…’ The great patchwork sail twitched in response to his
commands. ’I’ve set it so you shouldn’t have to try anything fancy,
like tacking. The boat will just sail out, hopefully, to the cordon
perimeter. If you need to lose the sail, just cut the ropes.’
    I was taking in all this automatically. It made sense for both of
us to know how to operate our little yacht. But then I started to
pick up the subtext of what he was saying. You, not us.
    He shoved me onto the deck panel, and pushed it away from the
Ghost ship. His strength was surprising. He was left behind. It was
over before I understood what he was doing.
    I watched him recede. He clung wistfully to a bit of tangle.
    The sail above me slowly billowed, filling up with the light of
the brightening sun. Pael had designed his improvised craft well; the
rigging lines were all taut, and I could see no rips or creases in
the silvery fabric.
    ’Where I grew up, the sky was full of sails…’ My suit could read
Pael’s, as clear as day.
    ’Why did you stay behind, Academician?’
    ’You will go further and faster without my mass to haul. And
besides - our lives are short enough; we should preserve the young.
Don’t you think?’
    I had no idea what he was talking about. Pael was much more
valuable than I was; I was the one who should have been left behind.
He had shamed himself.
    Complex glyphs crisscrossed his suit. ’Keep out of the direct
sunlight. It is growing more intense, of course. That will help
you…’ And then he ducked out of sight, back into the tangle.
    I never saw him again.
    The Ghost ship soon receded, closing