by S M Wright
"I believe I have everything." He scratched his furry chin.
"Are you having regrets?" she asked.
"No. I'm going home."
Whereego reached into his pocket and removed a registration chip. Katya did likewise with The Maelstrom's doctored chip, handing it to him. Several screens popped up after he used a special scanner on his slate to read both of them. Whereego completed several questions about the transaction before he signed a digital document.
"Your turn." He handed the slate to Katya.
She signed with her assumed name. Her jaw tensed when the transfer went for certification. As minutes passed, her stomach clenched.
It's normal, she soothed. They'd need at least two reviews, probably more. Yet with each minute, their fraud could be uncovered. The Magistrate cog pushers, as they were fondly called, could dig too far, past what she'd been able to forge—
"These things take a while," Whereego said. "Transfers always take the most time. The Magistrate and its paperwork, eh? There's a form for everything."
A loud beeping brought their attention back to the slate and the chips. "The transfer has been confirmed. She's all yours." His teeth poked out around his lips as he offered her The Wandering Trader's registration chip. "Best of luck to you, your child, and crew. May she serve you as well as she has me."
"Thank you." Katya shook his hand one more time before Whereego tipped his head to her and left the vessel, one last bag in his hand.
Left alone, Katya entered her new quarters and set Aquila down on the bed. He rolled himself onto his belly, his eyes following her as she went to the door.
"I'll be back before you know it." He might not understand a single word coming out of her mouth, but Katya hoped the sound would be reassuring. Then his head lulled to the side, connecting with the mattress. Her lips parting, Katya crossed the room and placed the child on his back while her fingers sought a pulse. It beat steadily, and her own heart quieted slightly from its accelerated pace.
"Something's very wrong with you," Katya whispered. She draped her jacket over him before adjusting the room's temperature and making it cooler.
Katya lingered a little longer before leaving to help the others load their belongings. The task proved challenging with only the three of them; however, the equipment Rein had rented helped. The hovercart, in particular, was money well spent, easing what would have been backbreaking work. As the last boxes were secured in the hold for them to sort through later, Katya headed to the cockpit to acquaint herself with the controls while they waited for the supplies to come, if they ever did.
No codes were needed to enter the cockpit, a major plus. It's interior, though, presented another challenge, featuring new technology that would require practice to gain familiarity with. She powered on her slate, and for the next few minutes, she studied the Badger's schematics, which had been downloaded upon the registration transfer.
"Should be easy enough." Katya coordinated the features highlighted in the schematics with the ones in front of her. A half hour had passed, according to the time displayed on the slate. What's taking them so long?
"Such interesting eyes."
Katya clicked her tongue against her front teeth and flicked one of her looped braids back.
Hours dragged by, leaving her to reread the approval notice that allowed their departure and approved their submitted flight plan. They wouldn't go to Horgi—the risk was too great. They would be diverted to somewhere else, continue moving cargo, eventually fading into the Fringe like so many crews before them. The backwaters of Magistrate space would be their salvation.
She tapped the metal portion of the pilot's console. There was no ticking—it was hard to find a clock that did nowadays—but she could feel it, the steady progression of time; it ingrained itself in her head. The shopkeeper's words, his facial expression . . . they all—
"Katya!" Mina burst into the cockpit. "A Magistrate ship's landed next to us!"
"Its name?"
"The Bogwharf."
Katya wrote the name into her slate, and the sight of a small peacekeeping vessel with no posted mission greeted her. Color drained from her face. Standing, she walked to the cargo hold and ramp.
"Got anything on it?" Rein asked in a hushed tone when she paused next to him on the ramp.
"Small peacekeeper." What they were doing in the port's trade section remained to be seen.
On the outside, the crew of The Bogwharf disembarked, several carrying duffle bags. They, largely officers by their insignias, sauntered toward the shopping district, or maybe to the city itself. Regular crew remained behind, unloading crates from the cargo hold. Their languid motions demonstrated no signs of haste.
"They seem harmless," she said. "Just docking at the next port." She straightened as a Neravah hover carrier, complete with open bed, rambled toward them. "Ah! Here come our supplies. Not a moment too soon."
Katya and Rein stepped down the ramp and waited for vehicle to stop. Once it did and its driver stepped out, Katya completed the transaction. The supplies were then quickly loaded. Mina joined in at one point, streamlining the process; however, they focused on loading, not storing their purchases. That'd wait until they were en route to whatever L Class planet—capable of sustaining oxygen breathers—their navigation console produced. As soon as they had finished, Katya locked up shop. Several clinks followed as the ramp's locking mechanisms fastened into place.
"Let's get off-world. Rein, give the engine room a watch and familiarize yourself with it."
He stiffened at the order, lines hardening on his face. He opened his mouth while Katya tensed. Nothing was said, and Rein left.
Katya remained rooted. "Mina, check on Aquila and make sure you give him some of the RMP; we'll make the jump once we clear the planet's atmosphere, so take care of yours as well."
"Sure."
While Katya went to the cockpit, the teen vanished into her quarters. She sat in the captain's chair, relishing the cushioning. Still enough fluff. She would be able to leave her own imprint, unlike the seat on The Maelstrom. Katya flipped several buttons on the control panel, and the ship breathed to life.
"This is The Wandering Trader," Katya spoke into the communications system attached to the pilot console, "requesting permission to leave."
"Permission granted."
Katya activated the thrusters after popping her own RMP pill. The ship shot upward, following the beacons that directed it past the atmosphere. The grayish sky of Gilga bled to black, with stars coming to surround them. Once clear of the planet's atmosphere, Katya brought the craft farther out.
"Prepare for jump in three . . . two . . . one . . ." Katya said over the ship's intercom. "Punching it now."
There were no calls for more time, so the jump continued. Her stomach churned before the effects of the sudden celerity lessened, the pill taking effect. "And off we go." She programmed in a course to a metro Fringe world and set the autopilot before leaving for her quarters.
It was a novelty to walk through a hallway rather than on a loud catwalk to get there. Civilians knew how to travel. She put in the code to the doorway and entered.
Inside, Mina sat hunched with a blanket wrapped around her body.
"How's our littlest traveler?" Katya asked.
She leaned over him. With the climate change, Aquila, while still pallid, no longer bore stress lines or a layer of sweat. "I'll have to keep this room chillier," she said. "Apparently, Oneiroi can't handle heat. I'll have to make do with warmer clothing and blankets."
Mina got her body under control and stood raggedly. "I'll be in my room with the heat cranked all the way up."
"Don't roast yourself." Katya slumped on the bed next to Aquila. "I'll worry about getting his bed together after a nap." She lifted her jacket off him and flung on a light blanket that Mina had pulled from one of the boxes that had made its way to her room. "Mina, get some rest. I have the ship on auto, and it's set to alert us to any problems."
"Go
od." Mina clenched her blanket tighter. "I'm going to nap like a pro."
She shuffled from the room, leaving Katya alone with the boy.
Humming, Katya tucked the blanket under his sides. Could he even feel cold? She carded his hair. He was a mammal, so likely there was a threshold. Trial and error. "Not how I like to do things," she told him. "I . . . prefer things to be more precise." A wave of fatigue and nausea cascaded over her.
Katya slumped over and waited for it to pass. Grabbing her head, she steadied her breaths, willing herself not to throw up. After several moments, the urge departed. It took longer to pry herself off the bed and to the collection of boxes that littered her floor. She opened them one by one until she found a pair of non-constricting pants and a loose shirt. She put them on before staggering back to the bed, which she crawled into. Twisting around, she found it lumpy with a dipping center.
"It's my turn next for a new bed . . ." Sheer tiredness struck again, and something resembling a needle penetrated her head. Groaning, she rolled onto her side, vertigo following the motion. The boy remained asleep, his head tilted toward her.
Grunting, Katya massaged her forehead as several more prickles formed behind her skull, like little ants burrowing in. It spread outward from the temples, proving all-encompassing. Her limbs grew lighter, almost foreign to her. She grimaced. Next to her, Aquila's eyelids moved rapidly. She reached out and brushed aside a stray lock of hair; some of the prickles lessened.
"I don't know much about your people, but I think whatever their ability is . . . you're using it." She opened her mouth to say something further, but instead her head slumped against the pillow.
CHAPTER SIX
-Three years prior-
A breeze brushed against Akakios's cheek, rustling his short black hair. Gripping the balcony's heavy metal railing, he inhaled Demos Oneiroi's frigid air. Crisp, untainted. Not a single planet he'd been on could make such a claim. Below, snow rolled along the dips and craggy face of the mountains and valley floor as the wind pushed it. Warmth radiated throughout his body as he bathed in the moment. Oh, to finally be home.
Still, the planet's unforgiving environment would kill him given an extended length of exposure. Already, its chill cut through to his clothes and body, especially at this hour of the evening when what little sun they received was cloaked by Demos Oneiroi's ever-present umbra. After so many dry, hot, bright, or otherwise inclement planets, he relished the life-endangering cold and darkness. He'd been gone too long, and none of the planets he'd been forced to live on had come close to rivaling his homeworld.
Exhaling, he sought to allay the turning of his stomach with the steady cadence of his breath. His hands clenched the railing. Any other matter. Any other matter . . . he would have rather returned for anything but this. The wind gusted while overhead the skies darkened further, promising an impending snowstorm. His hands ached. Why did Sotiris have to be born with the defect? As the breeze shifted to a swift burst, Akakios knew he couldn't dally longer, not unless he wanted to freeze to death.
"Why are you out here?"
Akakios released the rail and faced his younger brother, Amyntas. "I missed this." His hand swept outward toward the scenery behind him. "We all haven't had a wife on maternity leave."
Amyntas pressed his lips together. "Are you upset for that reason?"
Little tendrils wormed into Akakios's mind. He chuckled and pushed back against his brother's intrusion. It reminded him of their childhood, the constant prying and overshare that came from their mental abilities, the primary means of communication until age eight when verbal language supplemented it.
His brother smiled, though there was tightness to it, and Akakios could still catch the tingle of him snooping.
"Are you done reacquainting yourself with the scenery?" Upon receiving a nod, Amyntas continued, "Then the ceremony can begin."
Akakios's throat clenched, and he dropped his gaze, prompting Amyntas to check the invisible link between them again, his mouth turning downward. His brother's shoulders slumped while melancholy etched itself onto his features. Akakios swallowed against the knot in his throat.
"Don't look at me like that." Akakios closed the distance between them, gripping his brother's upper arm and squeezing it. "I'm not afraid of him, per se. But the defect—"
A muscle in his brother's neck twitched. "Kallistrate has the defect under control. Sotiris isn't a danger to himself or others." He strode toward the door, not casting a glance back. "She thinks she can help him control it."
Akakios's lips chilled. There'd be no teaching him control. He buried the thought before it could be read. Turmoil, however, rippled across their familial bond, originating from Amyntas. It had been one of the reasons Akakios had not wanted to return home: the bittersweet nature of such a ceremony. They would be forming a connection with a child who, upon reaching the age of three, would be handed over to the Magistrate's care. Their technology. He'd be another key toward isolating the variance in their species' DNA and eliminating it.
"Please don't say it, not today," Amyntas said.
"I won't."
Together, they entered their family's home, nestled in one mountain. On the inside, the only light came from deposits of a special mineral, purple in hue, that glowed in the cavernous walls. Some rooms had additional lighting—brought to them by the Magistrate—but not much more. His people couldn't stand the abrasive lights that scorched their retinas.
This main artery in, like every other aspect of the home, had been molded by forces of natures. Only minor modifications had been chiseled into the rock face of the massive cavern network by his ancestors, and that had been to split it into different wings, introducing order and privacy to various lines of the family. Nowadays, their section sat largely empty, with much of its would-be inhabitants spread throughout the galaxy, serving the Magistrate in different capacities.
In many ways, they'd been scooped up from the back of the tech race and plopped to the very front. It showed in the most recent alterations: tech woven in. Not to the extent that the Magistrate had wanted, but Demos Oneiroi was an unforgiving planet not only for sentient beings but also for electric devices. Consoles and communication relays had been modified to survive, though they still had shortened life spans.
As they walked in the hallway's purplish light, Amyntas's lead increased, even though Akakios tried not to drag his feet. He only caught up when they entered their line's private wing.
It was smaller than others, but at this point, they required little space. Amyntas and Akakios's parents were long gone, killed in service to the Magistrate, along with uncles and aunts. Sotiris had been meant to breathe life back into their line. Kallistrate had come from a family with no notches while their own line had only held one child born with the defect two generations ago. Despite efforts taken to make a good coupling, the defect had reared its head again. A numbness settled within Akakios. And now, their family's odds of future union contracts dwindled. They'd disappear like the others.
Amyntas opened a door, and they entered the communal living area where three fur-covered chairs had been positioned at its center facing each other. The space had been softened with tapestries and intricate designs chiseled into the rock—some centuries old. In the dimly lit space, Kallistrate sat in one of the chairs with Sotiris nestled in her lap. She played with the infant's little arms, occasionally jostling him by lifting her leg. The boy, for once, was awake and peering at the newcomers. He blinked his far-too-large eyes, a common Oneiroi feature in their young. Akakios
restrained his first instinct to break off any eye contact. Sotiris, after all, didn't require it to pull him under.
Kallistrate's grin to Amyntas morphed into a smirk by the time it reached Akakios. "We thought you might've run away like the rest."
"Never. I was just enjoying the scenery. You wouldn't believe the places I've been." He refused to admit he'd tried to find excuses not to return, though he suspected that Amyntas had shared his less-than-exuberant response when invited to the bonding ceremony with his wife. He had tried hard to conceal it over the call, but he had paused too much in all the wrong places, trying to think of assignments that might prevent his return. Who knows what expression flitted onto his face. In the end, all it had taken was Amyntas's tone when he'd said: "It'd mean everything to Kallistrate and me."
Akakios sank into the chair to Kallistrate's left, leaving Amyntas the other, which befitted his position as husband and father. Absent from the affair were several cousins from their line and Kallistrate's, along with her parents and grandfather. The most glaring absence was that of an Oneiroi official. It loomed over their proceedings.
Kallistrate lifted Sotiris, kissing the crown of his head before handing him to Amyntas. After doing so, she squeezed Amyntas's hand, gaining a small smile from him.
Akakios's jaw clenched, knowledge boring into him. Together his brother and sister-in-law would weather the loss. He intoned this thought, wrapped himself in its solace, even if he understood it was too simplistic, too wrong. Still, he remained grateful his brother would have Kallistrate. Of all the potential contracts, she had and continued to be the best for his brother.
Amyntas peered into Sotiris's eyes, utilizing their evolutionary feature to cultivate a mental connection. A milestone. Once that connection was formed, eye contact would no longer be necessary, allowing typical Oneiroi children to communicate until oral language was acquired. For Sotiris, Kallistrate hoped these channels would cultivate control.