Heritage Lost

by S M Wright

  "Are we going to die?"

  Katya growled in response and transferred more juice to the working thrusters. The ride got smoother by a slim margin. "Everything's under control."

  She maneuvered their crippled ship downward, and the city’s marble buildings became closer with each passing second. It was well manicured, and Katya couldn't comprehend why Zakhar called it rough.

  She sent more power to the thrusters, curbing their descent as they neared the spaceport, which amounted to a cleared space several meters to the south of the city. No walls separated them, just green space. In fact, there were no structures near the port. A sinking feeling emerged in the pit of her stomach. They wouldn't find a ship here. Rough. His actual meaning made more sense now. Hovering over the port and the now-parked freighter, Katya eased her vessel down and cut the engine before turning off the other systems.

  "Get ready to disembark." She patted Mina's shoulder and left to retrieve Sotiris. This time as she left her quarters with him, she made sure the blanket was secure over his face. The boy did not fuss, sleeping on. By the ladder, Mina waited for her.

  "Let's get this over with," Katya said. "We owe a man a drink."

  Rein entered the cargo hold at the same time they did. "I didn't see any Magistrate forces on our way down," Katya told him. "The world looks too peaceful for the Magistrate to have a large presence here."

  "Looks can be deceiving."

  She agreed even as she opened the ramp. At first it didn't budge, but after repeated hits on the button, it jeeringly obeyed. Katya counted it a miracle that the ship had even been able to still gradually shift the interior's gravity to a close enough match of their destination's.

  "Do you have to bring the boy?" Rein asked before they disembarked.

  "With the extent of the damage, I'm not leaving him behind." She headed down the ramp.

  Placing her free hand against her forehead, she blocked out Barsaa's bright sun. It'd been too long since she'd been under a real sun. Not since Ereago, come to think of it. She paused on the ramp to bask in the rays' warmth. Mina had the same idea.

  "Is this a spa planet?" she asked.

  "Probably parts of it."

  In front of them, a tram came to idle. A humanoid stepped from it while his driver remained seated. He approached them but changed his direction when a man from the Varyag—recognizable by his voice as Zakhar—called him over. As Zakhar greeted the man, his rotund belly bobbed, seeming as excited as its owner. He clapped the Barsaa representative's back and spoke with his deep baritone voice. Then he waved over Katya.

  "Ah, so this is the intrepid crew of the Minerva." Zakhar smiled, a deep laughter bubbling in his chest. "It is good to meet you, my dear, face-to-face." His eyes roamed over Katya. "You are much younger than I had hoped. Much too young . . . too removed from home, huh?"

  Her cheeks burned. "I don't remember the homeworld."

  Zahkar bowed his head. "It is a story I hear too often. There are too many lost children across this universe." His tone changed as he switched the conversation. "My friend here"—he rested his arm around the representative's shoulders—"will see us to the city. Unfortunately, I will have to get rain check on that drink. He has reminded me of previous engagement—old age, it sneaks up on us all—but I'm certain we will meet again, and then we will get that drink. I will hold you to it. Mark my words! Now come, I will escort you to city with a few of my crew."

  They filled all the cars attached to tram, with Katya and her crew sticking together. Rein remained rigid throughout the ride, though Katya wasn't much better. She hadn't been looking forward to drinking with Zakhar, but his sudden remembered business disconcerted her. Zakhar exhibited no signs of stress or alternative motives; rather, he talked quite boisterously to his men and the Barsaa representative as they sped along. Occasionally, he would say something congenial to Katya and her crew—often little tidbits of Mramor, largely its food or to encourage Katya to visit. He'd been adamant about it.

  And as they passed under arch after arch, Mina, who sat next to her, forgot any misgivings she held, leaning up against the tram's ledge, absorbed by her surroundings. Even Katya found herself pulled into the architecture of the white buildings, their green roofs, and the manicured trees and shrubbery. More and more "rough" reflected on the state of technology. Scenery-wise in the "rough" category, Barsaa had nothing on Reznic.

  The tram stopped in a heavily populated area of the city. "This is your stop, my dear," Zakhar said as they shuffled from the vehicle. "You should be able to find deals to help repair your vessel, if possible, or whatever you intend to do with it. Until next time . . . when we get that drink."

  "Next time then," Katya said. "Thank you for your kindness toward strangers."

  "Ah, some of the best people I've ever met have been strangers." A smile spread across Zakhar's face. "They have tendency to teach you more than you could ever imagine." He winked at her before tapping the driver's shoulder, and then he waved farewell as the tram hastened on.

  "I don't trust him," Rein said.

  "I don't know what to think of him." Katya watched the tram disappear in the distance. "You should come home, da?" Turning away, she circled to gather her bearings. "Either way, it's more reason to continue with our plan. Though"—she reflected on the small shops and the dated tech they'd passed while on the tram—"I don't think success will be in our future. Barsaa doesn't strike me as a planet that was on the leading edge of the space race."

  "It does appear that the tech was imported." Rein placed his hands on his hips.

  They shuffled along the street together, reading signs as they went. The natives were much smaller than most humanoids, their complexions an olive green hue and their eyes completely black; if they had irises, they were indistinguishable from their pupils. Occasionally, one of the children would point at them, usually getting their hand batted down by an adult. The adults, on the other hand, ignored the off-worlders.

  "Katya, there's a scrap metal dealer." Rein headed toward an isolated shop with a tall fence surrounding what appeared to be a salvage yard. Even it was nicely polished compared to similar establishments Katya had seen in her lifetime. They usually didn’t bother with landscaping and fine architectural flourishes, let alone matching the architecture of nearby structures.

  Katya followed him into the store. All things metal, from random parts to patches, lined the store, but given its small size, Katya doubted salvaging a ship would be in the proprietors' repertoire.

  A couple of Barsaa natives greeted them, a man and a woman. Both wore oil-stained aprons and long, thick gloves.

  "Can we help you?" the man asked.

  "We're looking to sell our ship for scrap," Katya said, stepping past Rein. "It's a D-Class Garni freighter."

  "Ah." The woman strode to a desk and browsed on a large, outdated console. "Gregey, this is the ship."

  The man whistled. "We've never taken in a ship this big. And it's a relatively new model." He quirked one of his eyebrows.

  "We ran into problems with pirates." Katya maintained an unaffected face, despite a sudden absurd thought: How many pirate attacks were just that and not a pilot's go-to excuse for the state of their ship? "Unfortunately, the damage is quite extensive. The repairs would cost more than getting a new ship."

  "You won't find anything like this." The man, Gregey, tapped on the screen. "Not on Barsaa. Supply is small on our world. What's available isn't cheap, and it isn't located here in Zilar. You'd have to take the train to Zeetmor, our province's capital." The man stroked his smooth chin. "Still want to proceed with this transaction, or move on to a more advanced planet?"

  "Let's proceed." Without a navigation system or FTL drive, they weren't going anywhere. "Let's talk a price, but first, payment type. We need hard currency; no wired transfers."

  The man and the woman exchanged glances before the man spoke. "Given the type of ship and the estimated worth, to get that large of an amount in hard currency will be impossible. A
re you sure a partial wired transaction wouldn't be a possibility?"

  If she held any confidence that her accounts hadn't been compromised or frozen, maybe. As far as a new account, she doubted she'd pass the application process. Outwardly, she shook her head. "I'm afraid our accounts were compromised during the pirate's attack. They realized we were without cargo and instead uploaded a virus into our computer systems; they managed to get away with some important information."

  "So the computer chips will not be feasible for resale," the woman said. "Of course, we would need to examine the ship before agreeing to a price, but this information will lower what we're willing to pay."

  "Understandably." Katya grinned, despite Sotiris adjusting his head against her shoulder. "Let us take you to it. We can decide on a price after you've inspected the ship, plus work out a payment plan if necessary."

  "Lilian?" Gregey turned to the woman.

  "I'll stay here."

  Together with the proprietor, they caught a tram back to the Minerva, where Gregey examined every inch of it. Katya followed him through the process, rocking Sotiris. The boy stirred more, far too warm—he'd be acting out more before long. She adjusted the carrier when his little hand goosed her in an attempt to get the blankets off.

  "Shh." Katya stroked his back before addressing Gregey. "What do you think?"

  "It's definitely scrap at this point, but it’s still better quality material than we normally get. There's no way I'll be able to pay the full amount in hard currency, not even with a digital transfer." Gregey stepped away from the panel he'd been surveying. "Our bank wouldn't have that kind of currency available. It'd also raise questions, requiring a stay while they made a decision."

  Sotiris, now full-out rebelling against the blanket, kicked his feet into her hips while his hands flayed.

  "Ah, the child looks ready to stretch his legs."

  If he could stand. She dodged his statement. "Perhaps we can work out a deal. You give me all the currency you safely can, and we then set up an IOU contract. It can be a temporary investment on my part in your business, because I won't be back for some time."

  "I can give you a little over half upfront," Gregey said, "and I'll give you a certain percentage of interest for your investment."

  Sotiris sobbed, high in pitch and volume. She caught the blanket as it fell. Gregrey didn't flinch or shirk as the toddler's face came into view. No, he remained amicable.

  "A very lovely boy," he said, even coming closer to admire Sotiris, who turned away from the odd man and hid his face in Katya's shoulder. However, he still tried to kick away the rest of the blanket. "Is he all right? Does he have a fever?"

  "No, just warm. He gets warm very easily."

  "Ah, each kind to its own." He walked to the door. "Shall we make our way back to the shop?"

  "We'll meet you there," Katya said. "We're going to collect what we need so we can catch one of those trains."

  "We'll want to hurry then," Gregey said, heading toward the ramp. "It's already almost four, and the trains stop at seven when they take workers back and forth between the cities."

  "They don't operate for long, do they?" Katya commented as she followed him.

  "Why waste energy?" Gregey shrugged. "We don't need them to be running after dark, disturbing everyone's rest. Do you think it'll take you long to gather everything?"

  "We travel light." Katya ignored Rein's pointed, flushed expression when he spotted Sotiris out in the open, uncovered. "We'll be at the shop in a half hour. Any personal effects we leave onboard, you are more than welcome to sell."

  Gregey hopped on a tram, leaving Katya and her crew to stuff as much as they could into what bags they could carry on their own. There hadn't been much extra, besides articles of clothing, to argue about. Katya chuckled at the cropping of remorse that sprang forth when she left the salt lamp behind, especially since it'd been a pointless purchase to get information. But she had found herself drawing pleasure from it, as had Sotiris—when he was awake, that is. He would stare at it for prolonged periods in the days she'd had it, drawn to it even. Despite their fondness for it, she couldn't justify the oddly shaped and bulky object. Surely someone on Barsaa would cherish it like they had.

  Having picked over their possessions, they met outside, burdened with duffle bags and backpacks, and caught a tram. The Varyag remained parked beside their old ship. It left her to wonder how Zakhar's business had gone. No activity occurred in or around the ship, suggesting he had yet to return. Perhaps she should have left a note, thanking him further, but now it was too late. They had to hurry. Constant movement offered their best chance of survival.

  "Is it wise to have him uncovered?" Rein whispered into her ear.

  "It fell and he was screaming. That was going to draw attention, some of which might have gone beyond judgmental glares. We don't need local authorities involved. That man didn't recognize Sotiris for what he is. He may be a kid, but everyone who knows what an Oneiroi looks like reacts." Katya lifted her shoulder, causing Sotiris, who had been eyeing the scenery as they went, to glare at her. Chuckling, she pecked him on the forehead. "I don't think the Oneiroi have been on this planet."

  "Still."

  Indeed, spacers on the world could have had run-ins with Sotiris's people, but . . . "The planet's too warm for him, and the blanket's only going to make it worse. He'll fuss and draw attention to us."

  Rein snorted and shifted his face toward the scenery. "I liked him better when he wasn't so vocal, and I didn't even like him then."

  Katya didn't bother responding. It gained nothing to stoke the pot. They arrived at the salvage shop, and Katya filled out the paperwork and collected the hard currency, adding it to the sum she'd held onto from past jobs. As they had filled out the paperwork, the couple had not once asked for a ship registry; either they had suspected the Minerva's legality or had never dealt in that many ships-for-scrap deals. With the paperwork and deal wrapped up, they raced to the train station, where they caught the last train to the capital.

  By the time they arrived, the sun had long since vanished, and much of the city, except for the night district as a local had called it, had given in to slumber. The district paled in comparison to those on Reznic and the other worlds she'd been stationed on. Tame. Extremely tame with its legit late-night restaurants and bars, liquor stores, organized brothels, a few recreational hookah dens, and the spaceport, to which those still walking the street courteously directed them. Katya, at one point, pulled the blanket out of her bag and draped it over Sotiris, who, in the depth of slumber, failed to notice its dreaded return.

  They trekked several blocks before their destination came into view: a small port that was more of a transit hub than a real spaceport. In it, they discovered exactly two merchants selling ships, all of which outstripped their budget.

  Mina slumped against one the port's walls and tugged off her shoes one at a time to massage her feet. "What's the new plan?"

  "Take a transport somewhere that has more junk ships," Rein answered.

  Katya grunted her assent from where she already stood in front of the lists of flights. Her finger stopped on one. "There's one headed to Jordah. It's a metro planet; it'll definitely have ships within our price range. Hmm. There's a layover at Station R-20." A layover presented a danger, but it meant a cheaper flight, and they needed to save what money they could.

  Rein read through the other options for several seconds before he muttered a noncommittal utterance. Katya took it as an agreement and procured the tickets. They then lounged in a waiting area with Mina taking the time to nap; Katya would have, too, if she trusted Rein. Three hours passed before they boarded the medium-sized passenger vessel. Katya breathed a sigh of relief; with the small number of fellow passengers, they should be able to corral themselves away and receive privacy.

  The passenger freighter's interior had open spaces with limited seating, a true Fringe transport. Katya ran the fingers of her free hand between her sweat-lined neck and h
er shirt's collar. As she walked around the clumps of fellow passengers that formed along the floor, her stomach churned, submerged in a sense of déjà vu.

  Past the masses, Katya piled her bags in an isolated corner like pillows and sank into them, laying Sotiris to her side, where her body would obscure him. The vibration that, on another ship, would set her at ease made getting comfortable a challenge, even as Mina began to lightly talk in her sleep. Even Rein snored, comfortably settled on his bag a foot or so away.

  She hated transports.

  "Take him please." Katya handed Sotiris to Mina. Her head pounded to the point she staggered as she walked, her body trying to take her into the corridor wall beside her. They'd arrived on R-20 at a late hour, according to the station's local time.

  The corridors they passed through lay almost deserted except for a smattering of other travelers, many of whom had taken to the benches to catch some sleep. Their group proceeded alone, with Rein having stopped to use the men's restroom. Katya took in the sleeping travelers, tempted to join them. What sleep she'd been able to get on the transport would have to do, no matter how little. She couldn't recall her dreams, but they'd been unsettling.

  When Katya spotted a cleared bench surrounded by beds of plants, she motioned for Mina to follow her. "Set up shop here for now and wait for Rein."

  "Where are you going?"

  "There's a bar up ahead, and I need something to dull my headache. I'll be back in a half hour. If I'm not, send Rein to get me." Katya reached over and patted Mina on the head, earning a glare. "Do you think you can handle him?"

  "We'll be fine." Mina readjusted Sotiris so his head rested on her shoulder.