by M D Cooper
The crowd fell silent, curious what would prompt such secrecy.
Terry addressed her audience. “Thank you for delaying your lunch to hear me out. I see many friends here, but many of you have probably never seen me, though I grew up here and worked in the pits for most of my life. My name is Terry, and until a couple of months ago, I was a mechanic like many of you, and I had never traveled farther than one town over for a parts run.
“In the brief time since I left, I’ve seen how differently Serenity operates compared to other systems and worlds. The leaders of the Ordus have perpetuated a vast inequality between us workers and the ruling elite because it suits them. I have come here today to tell you that this isn’t how it has to be. We can make a different future for ourselves.
“Imagine your children growing up with a choice about what profession to pursue. Imagine having the freedom to learn new skills, and change your own lot in life. I know that’s not how things are done here now, and while the traditions of apprenticeship and family legacy are important, it’s a problem when people feel trapped.
“Speaking for myself, I was proud to follow my parents’ profession, but I had always hoped I could rise out of the pits. Yet those thoughts couldn’t ever be spoken aloud. Why shouldn’t the daughter of mechanics be able to dream about being a starship captain? Didn’t our ancestors leave humanity’s homeworld to explore?
“Serenity’s heritage has been twisted from the founders’ original intent. We are descendants of the system-builders. This place was kept isolated from the wars in the galaxy beyond so that we could prosper, but instead, a select few have risen above while everyone else toils away to serve masters who inherited their roles rather than earning their right to govern at the people’s pleasure.”
“We have our ways!” someone in the audience shouted.
“Traditions evolve,” Terry countered. “Wouldn’t you rather have a choice about how you live your life? For that matter, don’t you want more than eighty years?”
“Someone has to do what we do,” Suze chimed in.
Terry had suspected that she’d side with the rulers, always being eager to please.
“That’s right, what we do is necessary and important,” she agreed. “And that’s why we’re in a position to make things better for us and everyone else on Serenity’s moons. There’s a reason I came to you—you, we, control the commerce and the military through our ports. Rise up, and the rulers will be forced to listen.”
“To what end?” another unseen person in the audience asked.
“For starters, what about getting access to the rejuv tech like the highborn? Nothing separates their long lives from ours except technology that practically every other human in the galaxy has access to. It’s been intentionally withheld from us to keep Serenity’s population in line.”
This gave the crowd pause, and they murmured amongst themselves.
“Time is almost up,” Dylan told her.
“Look, I know you’ll have a lot of questions, but just think about it. What if our lives could be long and full of the freedom to become who we want? There’s no reason to be bound to the circumstances of one’s birth.”
A few in the crowd nodded their agreement, but others—too many for Terry’s liking—were frowning.
Dylan raised his hand. “She’s had her time, and you’re all entitled to your opinions. As far as anyone is concerned, this meeting never happened. We only act if there’s unanimous agreement. That’s how we do things, and our word is bond.”
Everyone murmured their agreement. Tradition did have its usefulness in some respects.
The doors to the outer corridors opened, and people began moving about their room in accordance with their typical lunch routines. Terry took a seat at one of the tables, her optimism fading.
Dylan was the first to sit across from her. “You spoke well. It’s difficult for people to hear thoughts so contrary to how they’ve been raised.”
“I never thought I’d buck authority, either. Stars, they have all of us so thoroughly programmed, we don’t question why they deem our hands unfit to shake.”
“I see it as you do,” he agreed.
Terry sighed and shook her head. “I need more than five minutes and an impersonal setting like this to make a case.”
“These things take time. You’ve gotten some people thinking, and that’s a start.”
“But it’s not enough, and there’s an urgent need.”
“What could possibly be so urgent that you want to undo a millennium of tradition overnight?”
“Okay, ‘overnight’ is a little ambitious,” Terry replied, even though that wasn’t far off from her aspirations. “Remember what we discussed when I was here last time?” He nodded. “Well, the houses are preparing to move, and we can either get caught up in the crossfire, or we can take actions of our own.”
Dylan wilted, looking out at the crowd of people sitting down to their bland lunches around them. “Such a war would not go well for Gallas.”
“That is my fear. I hope to make Serenity better for everyone, but my first loyalty is to this moon—it always will be.”
“Home has a way of making a person think in those terms.”
“I guess, more than anything else, I want the difficult lives my friends and family have led to have meaning. If this war goes the way I fear it might, what will have been the point of working our hands to the bone, of working tirelessly to serve others, with no thought of our own futures?”
He smiled wearily. “How ever did you make it so many years without these thoughts bursting out?”
“I had my work to keep me busy, I guess.”
Dylan looked thoughtful. He spotted one of his friends, a middle-aged man Terry recognized as Calvin, sitting two tables away and called out to him. “Hey, Cal, how would you spend a full day off?”
“What? A day off?” the other man replied.
“Yeah. No work to make up. No budget limits. What would you do?” Dylan elaborated.
Calvin considered the question. “I don’t know… I guess I’ve always wanted to see the beaches on Teros.”
“The beach?” a woman sitting next to Calvin questioned. “Stars, I’d go to Acadia to see one of their magnificent cities. I’ve heard you can barely see the top of some of those buildings.”
“I’d want to go into the forest and get some damned solitude for once,” another woman at the table grumbled.
Others soon joined in their discussion of how to spend a free day without restrictions. It didn’t take long for most of the room to be buzzing with the conversation.
“Start small,” Dylan said quietly to Terry. “You were trying to sell them on a lifestyle change. Instead, start with a single day off, and work from there.”
She smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time since her speech. “How did you know that would get them?”
“Because that’s what got me thinking. You talked of children getting to choose their own career, but all I could think about is how I’d like a day to myself to watch mindless vids and drink cold beer.” He paused, returning her smile. “They really should have given us holiday time. This singular idea may be the start of that revolution you want.”
“Nurture it,” Terry urged. “I’ll hurry to get more pieces in place to move it forward.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dylan agreed.
She stood to go.
He caught her arm. “And, Terry, thank you for reminding us what it’s like to dream.”
“Hopefully soon, it will be much more than that.”
MORE FUEL FOR THE FIRE
STELLAR DATE: 12.22.8938 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Gallas, Serenity System
REGION: Orion Freedom Alliance, Perseus Arm
The news wasn’t what Cyrus had hoped Terry would bring back after her presentation to the workers on Gallas.
“This might be more difficult than I’d anticipated,” he admitted.
“I didn’t realize
how much my time away had changed me. It hasn’t been that long!” she replied.
“Dylan can keep the conversation going. In the meantime, I think we need to try a different tactic.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking about talking to my contacts in the black-market ports. I didn’t want to start there because I don’t want the movement to be viewed as something driven by criminals, but I think they might be an easier sell.”
Terry nodded. “Already on the outskirts of the law, used to thinking outside the established system.”
“Exactly.”
“May I go with you?”
“You don’t want to stay and work with Dylan?” Cyrus asked.
“I trust him to persuade the people stationed around Gallas’s ports. After how things went today, I think we’re going to need something else to jumpstart the movement, and I’d like to be there for that.”
“Fair warning: it’s a different crowd than you might be used to.”
“I think you might be underestimating the kind of people I’ve met.”
“At any rate, you’re welcome to come along,” Cyrus invited. “Someone presenting a perspective other than mine might help.”
“I was very mistaken to think that the two of us would be able to get this going on our own.”
“It’s not just the two of us anymore,” he pointed out. “Dylan sounds like he’s a true believer.”
“Now you’re making it sound like we started a cult.”
He shrugged. “We kinda did. The cult of Rebels Against the Houses.”
“Oh boy.”
“Okay, so maybe saying it’s against the houses isn’t good branding, since that’s my family.”
“Pharis can’t remain silent for long,” Terry said. “You bring up a good point that people are going to turn this into a generic ‘us versus them’ argument without a lot of consideration toward those in the houses who are on the side of the people.”
“That’s true. We’ll need to be intentional with the timing for Kristina and Pharis to call out specific people in power who need to step down.”
“Speaking of which, have you given any more thought about how to handle your mother?”
“That’s one of the reasons I’d like to meet with my contacts. It would make matters much easier for Pharis if we can point to tangible evidence about Mother being involved in unfavorable dealings.”
“All common practices for the houses, I’m sure.”
“Oh, certainly. But as with any facts, it’s all about how you present them.”
“It won’t take much to look unfavorable with the house’s dealings with Nebracken.”
“Thank the stars Pharis has a history of public-facing initiatives. Without that, I don’t think we’d be able to keep her shielded from the other fallout that’s sure to come.”
“What about you?” Terry asked.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t care if my name is dragged through the mud.”
“It’s not your name I’m worried about.”
“We’ve already weathered a battle on that ship of yours. If you’ll have me again, I think we can stay a step or two ahead of serious danger.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “I intend to make sure you make it through this alive.”
He grinned. “Oh good.”
Terry rolled her eyes. “Seriously though, I want to make sure the right people are shielded from the worst of it. We can’t implement a democracy overnight. Certain house leaders are more equipped to helm the system’s government until an equitable long-term solution can be put in place. Pharis and Kristina are the best positioned to do that. We need people to see them as being a part of the solution, not the problem.”
“I share your concern, and we’ll manage the messaging accordingly.”
“All right. I’ll leave it to you.”
He took her hands. “Your concerns are noted and appreciated, especially about me.”
She smiled and gave him a light kiss. “Now, let’s see what those acquaintances of yours think about overthrowing the oligarchs.”
* * * * *
After a short hop to the other side of the moon to visit Cyrus’s favorite port for unsavory dealings, he and Terry wandered to one of the bars he’d frequented for past smuggling runs.
The establishment was hidden in a side alley that got very little foot traffic, though the entrance itself was easily identified thanks to bright holographic signage advertising the drink specials.
The bar front was a legitimate operation, from what Cyrus could tell. However, he knew that, behind the closed doors in the back rooms, ship captains and their prospective customers worked out deals for arms trade, drugs, and unlicensed labor. He didn’t like being a part of that scene, but it went with the territory.
For years, he’d been telling himself that he’d be free after only a few more jobs. Now, he was out from under Cam’s thumb, and didn’t need black-market dealings to pay off his debts. Perhaps the good to come out of this final mission would help level his ethical debts from everything else he’d done.
“Nice place,” Terry commented with obvious sarcasm as they approached the bar entrance for the Sideaway Tavern. “What’s with the name?”
“It’s a play on being down a side alley and a hideaway. So, the Sideaway.”
Terry didn’t look convinced. “I hope their drinks are better than their name.”
“Actually, they made a really good Tropic Breeze.”
“I’ve never seen you drink anything except whiskey.”
“Out of sheer laziness and efficiency, my dear. But when someone can make a proper blended cocktail, there’s no reason a person shouldn’t enjoy the process of getting drunk.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
The door chimed when Cyrus pushed open the door, and the barkeeper poked her head around the corner.
“Cyrus? I thought you’d gotten out of the business!”
“Hi, Roz,” he replied. “I’m, uh, transitioning.”
“Cam was pretty pissed you’d found a way around her system, from what I heard.”
“Wow, word travels fast.” Cyrus took a seat at the worn bar, gesturing for Terry to sit next to him. “This is my friend, Terry.”
“Hello,” Terry greeted.
“Hey.” Roz dried a glass that had been sitting on the drying rack. “What’s your pleasure?”
“I hear you make a mean Tropic Breeze.”
“I do. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Terry bristled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Roz smiled and passed a knowing look to Cyrus. “Just checking, hon. Coming right up.” She set about preparing the beverage.
“Make it two,” Cyrus told her.
“Already on it.” She winked at him over her shoulder.
“So, Roz, have you seen Toni around?” he asked, trying to get down to business as casually as possible.
“I saw her a few nights ago, but I’m not sure if she’s still around or not.”
“Do you have any way of getting in touch with her?”
“I don’t, but Roger might.”
Cyrus nodded thoughtfully.
He hadn’t thought about many of these people for years, since he’d started doing runs almost exclusively outside of Serenity, but names and faces came flooding back from memory. Roger was one of the older smuggler ship captains, and had worked with almost everyone in Cyrus’s extended social circle at one point or another.
Even if he couldn’t get in touch with Toni, Roger might be just as helpful. Truthfully, Cyrus hadn’t realized he was still in the game, or he would have considered talking with him before.
“Who are these people?” Terry whispered.
“Respected captains in their line of work,” he replied in a hushed voice, trusting her to catch his meaning.
Her nod indicated that she had.
“Roger should be by in an hour or so,” Roz said. “You can wait here or in the bac
k room, if you’d like to speak with him.”
Cyrus patted the bartop. “Here is good. I’d like to catch up with other old friends if they’re around.”
“You might see a few. A number of people have gotten back into it recently.”
The statement supported the research Cyrus and Terry had done the week prior, when they were looking into the movements of the houses and their covert military operations. Though the official stance was against smugglers, houses often employed such individuals on the side to transport weapons and other technology they didn’t want rivals to know they possessed. The result was a clandestine alliance, of sorts, with a significant portion of the houses’ armaments being supplied through backchannel means.
Much like Terry’s plan to spark a revolt among the dockworkers, the smuggler network held a good deal of power to disrupt house supply lines.
“Have you heard who’s drawing the most business?” Cyrus asked Roz.
“A lot of contracts take people to Mesophis,” the barkeeper replied. “But you know a person can travel all over.”
Everything always leads back to Nebracken.
Cyrus had never traveled to the house’s estate on Mesophis, but Pharis had told him about her experience at the Dance, and how much of the property had been off-limits. For an event where most houses were eager to show off their assets, it was suspect that Nebracken had played theirs so close to the chest.
“What about Yucana and Teros?” he asked.
Roz shrugged one shoulder while she finished serving up the two Tropic Breezes. “Surprisingly quiet.”
Terry gave a shrug of her own. They hadn’t been able to get a good read on either the Mepholec or Paladis Houses before, so it wasn’t unexpected that information was sparse now.
Granted, asking one barkeeper in a particular bar in one of hundreds of cities on one of the five moons in the Ordus was hardly a sufficient sample size for reliable information. All the same, there were certain bits of information that served as indicators for much larger issues, and Cyrus knew from experience that the goings on at the Sideaway Tavern were one such barometer. Short of surveying the entire system, this was the best intel they’d be able to gather on short notice.