Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  “We’ll be moving at a different time from our folks back home, won’t we?” said the female engineering student who Noa now knew as Kara. Her tone was mournful.

  “Yes,” Noa responded. Unlike ships that passed through time gates, the Ark with its timefield generators would experience the time paradoxes of light speed travel theorized by early physicists. Two months aboard the Ark at light speed would be approximately four months planetside. The difference would fluctuate with the efficiency of the ship’s timefield bands, but even at optimal efficiency, if they had to make it all the way to Time Gate 7 … she banished the thought.

  She heard a few gulps among the assembled team.

  Noa took a step toward the hologram. “Rotate it,” Noa said. The portion of the craft that would be top-side during landing appeared. This side was flattened. There were doors set into it, but the view of those was blocked by an elevator shaft. The elevator was not native to the craft; it had been built to take tourists to the various decks of the vessel. The Ark’s original grav generators had depended on acceleration. Those had since been replaced so that the vessel could have gravity even while stationary; however, the design of the vessel still hadn’t changed. Instead of having decks set longitudinally in the long vessel, they were set horizontally. On board, “down” would be the tail, and “up” would be the nose.

  Noa pointed to the first door, twenty meters above the ground. “This is the door that leads to the main engineering deck. We’ll get out of the elevator here. It’s possible we’ll be receiving fire at this point, and it would be best if we took cover.”

  “The Ark’s hull should be more than sufficient to protect us from ordinary laser fire and bullets,” Gunny said.

  “Agreed,” said Noa. Even the more delicate timefield generating bands had been designed to survive for decades in deep space. The forward guns could prevent collision with large asteroids—the hull was designed to withstand the impact of asteroid fragments, should the forward guns be used.

  Pointing at the vessel, Noa said, “Gunny, Chavez, James, and I will head to the bridge. Manuel, you’ll lead the team including Ghost to the engineering deck.”

  Ghost snorted and the hairs on the back of Noa’s neck prickled. Of course, he expected to be the “leader.” Keeping her voice level, she said, “Ghost, show them what they’ll be dealing with while you’re busy shutting down the defense grid.”

  No snort followed that command. Instead, he projected the engineering room. Noa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was such a genius that he couldn’t foresee the need for Manuel to lead the team while his brain was busy with the much bigger task of keeping them from being shot out of the sky.

  She followed along as the engineers went over exactly what they’d need to do to get the engines ready for lift-off, and then to gear up for light speed. Then she walked the bridge team through their tasks.

  At the very end of the meeting, Gunny said, “You know, I think this just might work.”

  Noa felt muscles that she hadn’t even realized were tight loosen in her back and neck. Gunny’s opinion meant more to her than Manuel’s, Ghost’s, or James’s. Gunny was the only one in the room with extensive ground combat experience.

  “After we get to light speed, it should be a piece of cake,” Noa agreed.

  The older man nodded. “The time paradox will make their weapons useless, and we’ll be nearly untraceable.”

  Noa actually smiled. If Gunny believed it, she could believe it. She felt her hopes rise and saw several tentative smiles around the hologram.

  Scratching his stubble, Gunny said, “And no one will expect us to try to steal this old hunk of junk.”

  Chavez made the sign of the cross, and Kara echoed it. Noa’s smile dropped. That hadn’t been the most encouraging way to put it.

  Oliver chose that moment to raise his head and cry, “Spaceshit!”

  Gunny choked. “Sort of.”

  Hisha ran through the holo toward Oliver. “He can’t say ship,” she said apologetically.

  Hopping from the bed, Oliver dashed toward the holographic controls. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  Sitting up suddenly in her chair, Eliza shouted, “I just remembered. Sometimes when the timefield generators stalled, engineer Rodriguez would hit the transformer box with a hammer!”

  Ghost snorted, “Crazy old woman.”

  James said, “It could be true … every ship has eccentricities. Even I know that.”

  Jun, one of the engineering students, said, “In our case, all the eccentricities will be aboard.”

  Bo laughed as all eyes in the room shifted to Jun. Jun shrugged. “You gotta admit, we’re all pretty crazy to be planning this.” Noa raised an eyebrow at him. Rocking back on his feet, he held up his hands. “Not that it’s worse than staying here and waiting to be picked up by the Guard.”

  “Well, as long as we’re clear on that,” said Noa, sensing a chance to repair the mood of optimism.

  “Hey, get away from that!” Ghost shouted as Oliver, evading his mother, activated one of Ghost’s holographic necklaces.

  The hologram of the Ark dissipated, and Ghost ripped the necklace from Oliver’s hands, prompting the child to wail. Hisha picked him up and began consoling him. Oliver still screamed.

  “I think we need more fire power,” Gunny said to Noa, somehow ignoring Oliver’s screams.

  James, evidently hearing the comment over the screaming Oliver, said, “Ghost has some empty bottles here—maybe we could scrounge together the makings of Molotov cocktails, maybe even IEDs.”

  “How did you come up with that idea?” Ghost said, his tone oddly accusatory.

  Noa blinked. It was true that Molotovs were an ancient technology normally only encountered in military history classes, but … “He’s a history professor.”

  Ghost’s eyes narrowed at James. “Huh,” was all he said. Noa found herself biting her lower lip. Her fingers bit into her palms. Ghost’s distrust almost made her trust James more, as illogical as that was, maybe because Ghost’s judgment of character was about as reliable as a lizzar’s.

  “Molotov cocktails sound like a good idea to me,” said Gunny, nodding his head at James.

  Noa almost sighed with relief at the slight sign of cooperation … and the dropping decibel level of Oliver’s cries.

  Ghost muttered, “Next we’ll be using flint arrows.”

  “Well, you seem to think we aren’t capable of understanding more sophisticated technologies,” James snipped back. Noa glared at him and Ghost. She took a deep breath, prepared to scold them both—and felt a sting in her lungs.

  On cue, Hisha said, “Commander, you need to take your treatment.”

  Before Noa could get a word in edgewise, a plastic mask was slapped over her face.

  A few minutes later she sat in a corner, plastic mask still on, the acrid smell of treatment in her nose. Her eyes were on James’s back as he began assembling Molotov cocktails next to Gunny. The two men were working companionably, which gave her some hope. This might work; this really might work.

  Her eyes slid down James’s back. He’d stripped down to only a short-sleeved undershirt, and his tattoos were standing out in sharp relief on the pale skin of his well-muscled arms. She shook her head and reminded herself that those shapely muscles were probably bought. She tilted her head—they didn’t look oversized, though—some augmented men looked as though they’d stuffed balloons in their biceps.

  Chavez sat down next to Noa abruptly. “I think something came loose in my left leg’s connectors,” the other woman muttered. The ensign began ripping duct tape off her left limb. “How did this get in here?” Chavez wondered aloud. Noa’s eyes flitted over briefly, and she saw the ensign holding up a single pebble. The ensign tossed it aside, grabbed another roll of tape, and began re-taping the joint of her artificial limb. Noa looked away.

  “Errr … ” said Chavez. “Ummmm … Commander … so I didn’t realize that you and Professor Sinclair were a thing
.”

  It was at that moment that Noa realized her eyes had roamed back to James’s back. Averting her gaze quickly, Noa blinked over her mask at the young woman. She almost pulled the mask off—but there was Hisha again. “Oh, no you don’t,” Hisha said, putting her hand over the plastic.

  The ensign continued, “I never would have flirted with him if I’d known.”

  Noa took another deep breath of acrid vapors. She’d missed that flirtation and felt a bit annoyed. She told herself it was because they didn’t need that sort of drama this early in the game. Her brows drew together … and what made the ensign think that discussing this right now was a good idea? Or discussing it ever? Although it didn’t break any rules per se, it was just not done. The young woman had no sense of proprietary and … Noa’s shoulders fell. This woman was part of her crew.

  Jun said, “Why don’t we just walk through the gates of the museum like normal tourists?” He was assembling ‘bots to go into the decoy hovers that would crash inside the Tri-Center.

  “Because we were in Manuel’s hovers and they have a visual ID on us,” Bo answered in a voice that said, idiot.

  “Mr. Ghost says he doesn’t have enough holographic necklaces for all of us, either,” said Kara softly. “And we should all probably stick together.”

  Kuin, one of the engineering students, said, “What is this?”

  6T9 replied, “You asked for a woman’s arm. It is a woman’s arm.”

  “The skin tone is too dark and it’s too large, you stupid ‘bot.”

  “Would you like me to get a smaller one that is more appropriate in complexion?”

  “I’ll get it myself, you useless hunk of silicone.”

  “Don’t say that to him!” said Eliza.

  “Useless hunk of silicone,” said the student, and Noa’s skin heated in anger. It might not be hurtful to 6T9 to say such things, but it was hurtful to Eliza.

  Noa nearly pulled the mask away to correct the boy, but Hisha’s hand was suddenly on the mask again. “You can’t miss any of this dose, Noa.” Her brow was furrowed with concern. Noa scowled, but didn’t argue.

  “Don’t touch that!” Noa’s eyes went to where Ghost stood over Oliver. Ghost raised his hand as though he might strike the toddler.

  “Don’t touch him!” shouted Manuel, grabbing Ghost’s arm.

  Kara gasped. All the attention in the room went to Ghost and Manuel. The engineer growled. Hisha darted over and picked up the little boy, snatching him away from Ghost’s reach. The timer on the treatment dinged. Noa ripped the plastic from her face, but before she could say a word, beside her Chavez said, “He’s pretty to look at though, ain’t he?” Noa’s head whipped in the girl’s direction and followed her gaze. She was staring unabashedly at James.

  A scream ripped through the small space from the far corner. Noa’s head whipped again, this time to see Kara standing with her hand over her mouth. Kara’s eyes were riveted on Carl Sagan. Darting past her, the werfle was carrying cybernetic eyeballs in his mouth and with the tiny hands of his midsection.

  “Stupid girl,” muttered Ghost, before resuming his quarrel with Manuel.

  Kara quickly shuffled away, hand still on her mouth.

  Noa felt her stomach turn. This was never going to work.

  James looked from side to side in the intersection in the sewers. His hearing caught the sound of footsteps—it was impossible to tell how far—his tech didn’t adjust for the echo. But they sounded too close. The water in the tunnel had increased exponentially, but he could avoid splashing in the stream that ran down the center of the tunnel if he skirted the walls. He turned a corner, listened and verified that the Guard was coming in his direction. He heard someone say, “Jericho group will head down the tunnel beneath Liberty Avenue.”

  Turning, James rapidly signaled the team some 405 meters away. Gunny’s augmented vision caught the signal, and he halted the others. They immediately began crawling into an accessory tunnel located about two meters from the ground.

  James approached them slowly, carefully checking side tunnels before he crossed. By the time he reached them, everyone but Gunny and Noa were in the accessory tunnel. James kneeled down by Gunny, and offered a “leg up.”

  Slipping his boot into James’s hands, the older man nodded and murmured a barely audible thanks. James didn’t respond, just lifted the man up into the small tunnel. He heard scuffling inside, and a hiss from Carl Sagan. He nodded to Noa, and she put her boot in his hand, and he lifted her in a fluid motion. He followed her up into the tunnel and there was more scuffling as the team moved farther back.

  Outside James heard a Guard say, “I heard something!” and he felt Noa stiffen beside him.

  There was some light from a grate in the tiny space, and James saw one of the engineering students touch his forehead, his stomach and his shoulders. It took a moment, but James realized he was making the sign of the cross. For some reason, James felt as though someone had doused the lights within his mind with a cold pail of water. Leaning against the tunnel wall, he tried to make himself small.

  The sound of footsteps outside the access tunnel got louder. “I definitely heard something!” a Guard said.

  “Check that accessory tunnel!” someone in the main tunnel commanded. In the dim light, he saw Noa raise her pistol, and Gunny and Manuel did the same. James was so close to the opening of the tunnel he was afraid to move, afraid that any motion he made might be seen from below. A flashlight beam jumped along the wall in front of his nose.

  “I don’t hear anything,” someone outside his line of vision said.

  Deeper down the tiny accessory tunnel came a sleepy cry from Oliver.

  “I heard it!” someone said. “Give me a lift!”

  James reached for his pistol. Beside him, silent as a snake, Noa shifted so she was sitting on her heels, pistol raised at the tunnel opening. Before the Guard was lifted, Carl Sagan’s body went hurtling past Noa and over James’s lap. The werfle hissed and poked its head out into the main tunnel.

  Noa’s chin dipped. She readjusted her finger on the trigger of the pistol.

  In the main tunnel line, someone said, “Oh, look. It’s just a werfle.”

  “Someone’s escaped pet by the look of it.”

  “Probably down here looking for rats.”

  A hand from one of the Guards shot up so it was in view of James, but the owner’s face was not in view. Carl Sagan hissed.

  “Easy, Mister,” said the owner of the hand, giving Carl Sagan’s chin a scratch. “We’re not taking you in.”

  “We’re not?”

  “Hot cores, no. These guys eat rats. Let him stay down here and clear the rest of ‘em out.”

  The hand retreated, and then the light. James sat motionless. Noa lowered her pistol, but touched a finger to her port, and met James’s gaze. James pulled a few lengths of cable and a square port box from his pocket as quietly as he could, and he handed all but one cable to Noa. Plugging one end of the cable into his port, he saw Noa do the same, and then her avatar flickered in his mind’s eye. “The ‘bot controlled hovers should be ten minutes from the crash site.” There was no segue, no, “that was close” or “thank the stars for Carl Sagan.” The werfle settled onto James’s lap in the physical world, and James idly scratched the creature behind the ears.

  Another avatar flickered to life in the shared space between their minds. It was a young man in the camis of the Fleet: loose shirt and trousers speckled drab gray. “Who are you?” James’s avatar asked.

  Noa’s avatar’s lips pursed. The new avatar also looked at him curiously.

  “It’s Gunny,” said Noa.

  “Old avatar,” said the mental projection. “But I didn’t think I looked that different.”

  James studied the new avatar. He had trouble reconciling it with Gunny. The face was younger, clean shaven, and there was no gray hair or beer gut. However, the avatar did carry the same firearms and other assorted weapons as Gunny carried in the real
world, and the eyes were the right color, James supposed.

  Chavez and Manuel’s avatars came online. James had less trouble identifying Manuel—though the avatar was slightly more fit, he looked about the same age. Chavez’s avatar was indistinguishable from her person—minus cybernetic limbs. Ghost’s avatar appeared, too. It didn’t look military issue—it wasn’t in his Fleet grays, and it had the same sculpted face as the holographic necklace.

  “We’re close to the Tri-Center now,” Gunny’s avatar said. “’proximately a kilometer.”

  Noa’s avatar, bearing the same arms she did in the real world—an extension of the Fleet avatar programming, James decided—holstered her pistol and swung her rifle around. “Remember, we are bound to encounter resistance in the tunnels below the museum. They may fall back to protect the more sensitive areas of Central Authority, but we can’t count on that.”

  “Aye, Commander,” said Chavez and Manuel.

  Ghost’s avatar also bore a weapon—a rifle from his personal armory. Back in his lair, the engineering student, Bo, had asked if he could have one of the rifles, but Ghost had snorted and said, “I’d give it to the girl first.”

  The engineering students weren’t in the shared mental space. They didn’t have avatars. They were commonplace things on Earth, but on Luddeccea, apparently, they were considered an extravagance. In the physical world, Bo was petting a Molotov cocktail. The other students were more subdued. Kara sat next to Noa, and James was certain he could hear the girl’s heart beating too rapidly.

  “You all know your roles,” Noa’s avatar said. She nodded at James’s avatar. “Let’s go.” And then her avatar reached up and motioned pulling the data cord from its socket. All the avatars copied the motion, and James was suddenly completely alone in his own mind. The break in the connection felt like a cold slap. He yanked the cord out of his own port. Noa motioned for it, and he let her gather up the length of the cable. It kept his hands free as he slipped into the main sewer line. As soon as he was down, he swung his rifle around and focused his hearing. He couldn’t see anyone, but he could hear voices approximately 100 meters away. Catching Noa’s gaze, he reached up and touched her hand, the signal that the team could follow. As soon as they touched down, he touched one ear and then the other—the sign that they could be overheard. Everyone nodded—except for the drugged Oliver and 6T9. The ‘bot was blindfolded. Eliza had given him the exact route they were taking and told him they were playing an exciting new “game,” that “only he could play with her.” The ‘bot was smiling blissfully beneath the blindfold. There was no doubt that there would be resistance—and 6T9 couldn’t be allowed to see, lest he seek to render assistance—or report the team.