Discovery

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Discovery Page 2

by Craig Martelle


  A panoramic view greeted them through the two-hundred-and-seventy-degree windows lining the walls of the round room. Two fireplaces burned, and overstuffed seating abounded. A large bedroom took up the last quarter of the room, and the bed was massive, with posts, curtains, and mirrors.

  “No one can see in,” Char read a notification by the windows.

  “Nice penthouse, but still limited privacy, when the android is right here.” Terry went to the bar. “One shot of each of your single malts. And do you have the All Guns Blazing beer called Your Dark Soul?”

  “We have seventeen different single malts,” the android warned. “And of course we have one of the most popular brews in the Etheric Federation. A stout with a hint of chocolate.”

  “The order stands. Line ‘em up and let’s see which ones are worth drinking.”

  “Our vacation, and you’re doing shots?”

  “We’re doing shots. Tequila for the loveliest woman in all the galaxy, my robotic friend, and yes, I know androids aren’t robots. If you’re offended by that, you can go fuck yourself.”

  “You can call me whatever you wish. I was created to make Venus more pleasurable for you.”

  “For us,” Terry corrected. Reluctantly, Char joined him at the bar.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable looking out the window?” the android asked.

  “We would,” Char said, but Terry pointed to the bar. Char pointed to the window, so they compromised and sat by the window.

  The android delivered their spirits and Terry made faces at the first six, waving them away after just a sip. On tasting the seventh, he hummed with delight, then went through the rest, just a sip each, and motioned for the android to take them all away. He saluted with the remaining shot glass. “Bring the bottle of...”

  “Balvenie, sir. May I compliment your palette?”

  “You may, and if I remember my history correctly, Balvenie was Gary Gygax’s drink of choice. A double cask, oak and sherry for a smooth finish.”

  “Not that GaryCon thing again.” Char smiled as she shook her head.

  “Yes, that, but look at this view!”

  The android took everything away, returning quickly with two bottles, one of Gran Patrón Platinum and the other, twelve-year-old Balvenie. The android disappeared into an alcove behind the bar to leave the couple in peace.

  They clinked glasses and held hands as they observed the trees and gardens of the Cygnus VI pleasure moon, which disappeared into the distance on all sides. Small private shuttles moved people from the main building to outlying cabins, surrounded by dense hedges for maximum privacy.

  There was no extreme to which Venus wouldn’t go for their clients. Terry threw back his shot glass as Char matched him. “Bethany Anne would go to the ruins,” Terry remarked.

  “What is with your crush?” Char leaned back to get a better look at her husband.

  “Not a crush,” he shot back, holding his hands out defensively. “Just wondering, and I don’t know why she’s been on my mind. I think something must be happening somewhere.”

  Char closed her eyes and reached into the Etheric dimension. After a few moments, she blinked and looked at Terry. “I think you’re right.”

  Chapter Two

  War Axe, the Bad Company’s Heavy Destroyer and Mobile Command Center

  “Holy shit!” Christina shouted, jumping up and starting to dance. The RFP that had gotten Terry’s attention got hers, too. “We’re going to a major party!”

  She sat down and read it again to make sure.

  Flayse Conglomerate, Efluyez Homeworld, Alganor Sector

  We request the presence of the Bad Company, in dress uniform, for a parade in the Flayse Magnate’s honor. Flayse Conglomerate will pay half a million credits for this four-hour event. There will be no combat, although weapons will be carried as part of the parade.

  Our sole purpose is to make the Homeworld’s citizens proud of our abilities to conduct war, although we ourselves are always noncombatants. We wish our neighbor, the Frikanda Homeworld, to believe that we are not to be trifled with.

  “Short and to the point,” she said aloud. “Kai!”

  “Yes, grandma?”

  She did a backflip over the couch and shot like an arrow across their quarters. Kai dove to the side, but too late; Christina grabbed a handful of his shirt and yanked him down. She twisted to get on top of him, and pinned his arms to his side, then bit his neck hard enough to draw blood.

  “I’m not a grandma,” she whispered into his ear before biting it.

  “I give!” he called into the carpet before he started to chuckle. “That tickles.”

  She licked the drip of blood from his neck and climbed off. Christina didn’t help him stand. She simply waited with her arms crossed.

  Kai looked at her skeptically, and she flipped her hands out in the universal gesture for “Why?”

  “Because I like the way you fight. You might be faster than me, and I find that titillating.”

  “’Might be?’ If you aren’t careful, you’ll find yourself in here with a bistok as your roommate.”

  “A bistok. You know that video of you trying to wrestle that bistok is on the open net, right?”

  “I have contracts out on the lives of those responsible,” Christina deadpanned.

  “You also know it was my mom.”

  “I know. If you ever break up with me, you will jeopardize the peace and well-being of your entire family.”

  Kai pulled at his collar and made a face. “I’m feeling a lot of pressure in our relationship, like one of us is needier than the other and it’s sucking the air out of the room and making it hard to breathe and I feel like I’m swimming for the surface but can’t quite get there and...”

  Christina stopped him by holding a single finger in front of his face. “Shall we break the good news to the others?”

  “News of our impending marriage?”

  “Hang on, Mister Clingy!” Christina shook her head. “The RFP. We need to make sure that everyone has a uniform. I know Terry Henry taught them how to march, but do they remember?”

  “What’s the delivery date?” Kai asked, turning serious.

  “Oh, shit. Seven days.”

  Kai grimaced. “Transmit the acceptance, and I’ll check our production facility to see if we have enough raw material to make dress uniforms. Would you know what that is? Do we have a pattern for a formal look?”

  “Oh, shit,” Christina repeated.

  Kai gave her a stunned-carp look.

  “Don’t put this on me. Channel your inner grandpa and figure it out!” she declared triumphantly.

  “Grandma,” he whispered.

  “So I’m a little bit older than you!” She pulled him close for a fierce kiss before spinning him around and slapping his backside. “You have work to do. Get on it. I’ll be down in a bit. I need to research this place and make sure they aren’t lying.”

  “Everyone lies, but about what?” Kai offered with a slight nod and made his way out.

  Christina watched him go before turning back to the computer and digging up everything that General Smedley Butler, the War Axe’s AI, knew about the Flayse Conglomerate.

  Venus Pleasure Moon orbiting Cygnus VI

  “Sun’s up on Okkoto,” Terry noted. Late morning greeted them with a flawless sunrise, followed by a substantial brunch served by their attendant android while they lounged before the windows, a crackling fireplace at their back. “I could get used to this.”

  “I’ll take that as you getting used to vacations. I think we should take a week off every month.”

  “That’s insane!” Terry tapped a pad with direct access to the Venus support team. “Please have our shuttle pick us up in thirty minutes.”

  The system acknowledged thirty minutes, followed by a one hour trip to Okkoto.

  “What does a weekend look like on the War Axe?” Char asked pointedly.

  “Two more work days until Monday.” Terry’s voi
ce rose on the final word, making it sound like a question.

  Char mumbled a reply before standing and dropping her robe as she strode boldly toward the magnificent bathroom with the shower that Terry had designated the “rain room” because of the way the water fell from the ceiling. Terry thought about it for a moment before tapping the pad.

  “Make it an hour,” he told the support team.

  Terry wore his combat fatigues, a uniform he always had with him. What he didn’t have were weapons other than his Ka-bar.

  The Bad Company had the ability to produce any type of edged weapon. Christina had designed a combination axe and pry bar to help when boarding an enemy ship. Some members carried kukris, a long and heavy curved knife. Terry had returned to the Ka-bar fighting knife of his Marine Corps days. He kept that with him at all times.

  Char usually carried twin nine-millimeter pistols, but those, too, had been left on the War Axe. As a werewolf, she could always change into a fanged and deadly beast, so she never considered herself unarmed.

  She wore a stylish khaki outfit with rugged hiking boots and a floppy safari hat.

  Terry looked at the clothes as if he’d never seen them before. “Where’d you get those?”

  “At a store. With my money.” Her retort made Terry shake his head. “I refuse to dress like the only store I frequent is cash sales.”

  Cash sales. From the old U.S. military, where leftovers and turned-in uniforms could be purchased at a discount.

  “I don’t care about any of that, but it’s almost like you knew we’d go hiking instead of spending the entire time in our swimsuits milling about private ponds.”

  Char shrugged noncommittally.

  “Subterfuge!” Terry declared in a moment of inspiration. “You set this all up.”

  She pointed to the balcony where the shuttle was hovering, a short stair extended from an open hatch.

  He winked. “And I love you that much more for it. If only I had my dog...”

  “He’s not your dog,” Char clarified. “He’s not anyone’s dog. Well, maybe Cory’s.” Their daughter had lost her husband in the operation against the Skrima on Benitus Seven. Dokken, the sentient German Shepherd, had done his best to fill the void and was now a constant companion.

  “How about my wombat?”

  “Floyd is all yours. She adores you.”

  Terry almost said it, but he refrained when Char gave him the side eye.

  “After you,” Terry said, motioning.

  “Don’t think that I don’t know why you always ask me to go first up stairways.”

  “I know you know, but that doesn’t change anything,” Terry countered.

  “I’m good with that,” Char replied. She took three steps up and turned quickly to catch Terry staring at her ass. He blinked, smiled innocently, and followed her into the shuttle.

  The flight attendant, another young female from Torregidor, offered them champagne, but they both deferred. Char asked for a glass of red wine, while Terry went with a bottle of Your Dark Soul. They sipped in silence as the shuttle left the atmosphere of the pleasure moon, skipped off the atmosphere of the planet around which the moons orbited, and assumed a measured approach to the fourth moon. Terry and Char pressed their faces against the windows to get the best view.

  The shuttle flew slowly and silently over the ruins. Terry had expected an android to narrate like a tour guide, but they were given a blank slate upon which to draw their own conclusions. They had to see it for themselves.

  Okkoto had probably been green once like Venus, but the Kurtherian ruins had come about because of a long-ago battle. The gleaming towers and city sprawl had been blasted by heavy weaponry, and little remained. Upstart weeds had taken root, but until the moon received a terraforming makeover, it would remain barely able to support life.

  Before the shuttle landed, the attendant handed them each a heavy coat. Within, the pockets were filled with survival basics—water, food bars, high-strength rope, gloves, and more.

  “Who were the Kurtherians at war with?” Terry asked, taking his coat and shrugging into it.

  “Themselves,” the attendant answered. “Here. Call when you’re ready to be picked up. If you don’t call, we’ll be right here at dusk. You don’t want to be on Okkoto when it’s dark.”

  Terry took the device from her hand. “When is dusk?”

  “The days are very long on Okkoto and the nights short. Dusk will be about forty hours from now.”

  Char put her jacket on when the shuttle landed, and the door opened. Cool air blasted through. She shivered and headed out with Terry right behind her.

  They weren’t on the moon more than a few heartbeats when the shuttle buttoned up and took off. Terry breathed deeply, having to work harder to pull less oxygen into his lungs. The lack of greenery kept the oxygen low.

  “It wouldn’t take much to get this place back up to speed where it would support life. There are a lot of settlers out there who would like to have a place of their own,” Terry pondered.

  The shuttle had dropped them in an open space that had once been near the center of the Kurtherian city. He slowly turned in a circle to take in what was left.

  The silence of the breeze was unnerving. Without wildlife, nothing moved besides the weeds that fought the perpetual winds. No sounds reached them. When they talked, their voices were muffled.

  “Not for the hearing impaired,” Char noted.

  “Which way shall we go, lover?” Terry asked happily. “I’ve heard that we’re on vacation and it makes no difference how far or how fast we go as long as we enjoy the journey.”

  Char chuckled and pointed. “Now you’re getting into the spirit, TH. You are the absolute worst person to buy a present for.”

  “Because I’m a man, baby!”

  “I’ll go with man-child,” Char replied. She pointed in one direction for no better reason than it was the way she was facing.

  “Anything screaming Etheric?” Terry asked while they walked at a leisurely pace. “The Kurtherians’ stuff was long-lived. There has to be some residual energy.”

  Char stopped and relaxed, stretching out with her feelings to see if anything resonated, but there wasn’t the slightest hint of anything pulling energy from the Etheric besides her and Terry Henry Walton.

  “Zilch.”

  “I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel relief at that or abject terror.” Terry scratched his chin, as he did when he was deep in thought. “Shall we?”

  He motioned toward the largest remains of a nearby structure.

  “What do you think this was?” he asked.

  “Whatever we want it to be.” Char stopped and took in the destroyed building along with those around it. “I see the city’s council debating nonsensical issues as they postured to improve their own influence. I see harried clerks and bots managing the nuts and bolts of running the town. This used to be a beautiful place with caretakers lovingly nurturing the growth. Couples strolled hand in hand, enjoying life.”

  “I don’t think the Kurtherians were like that at all. Besides the posturing bit, that is.” Terry glanced left and right, expecting to see furtive movements, but there was nothing. They were the only living creatures on Okkoto.

  “A Kurtherian civil war, where nothing is civil. It’s just war.”

  “When politics fail,” Terry scowled. “Enough of that! Where do you think they hid their cafeteria?”

  “The ground floor? The basement? Higher?”

  “That’s no help at all.” Terry tipped his head toward the once-broad set of stairs that led into the structure. “Definitely a government building.”

  “Maybe an art gallery?” Char stopped when she reached the last stair without rubble and looked for a way inside.

  “I’ve never heard of an archaeological dig here, or that this place even existed. Is it such routine news that there are Kurtherian ruins?”

  “That is a good question,” Char conceded. “I didn’t know about this place un
til I started digging. It seems to be nothing more than a footnote to the Venus love shack.”

  Terry chuckled. He walked back and forth in front of what used to be the building’s entrance. On the far right side, the fallen stone-like masonry had a gap that wasn’t as high or as loose as the rest of it.

  He clambered up and stood at the top of the depression. “No matter where it started, the cafeteria is now in the basement. Just like the penthouse.”

  Char scrambled up the loose stone. Terry wasn’t kidding.

  “Looks like a missile hit it from this side and blew out a huge section of the supporting structure. The rest of it collapsed.”

  “How many floors?”

  Terry shrugged before holding up two fingers, followed by five. “I know nothing about Kurtherian architecture, but we’re about to find out. It doesn’t look like any formal excavations took place here. Let’s see what there is to see.”

  Char removed her rope from her jacket and tied it around the remains of a stanchion. They used it to back down a loose pile and into the rubble below. At the bottom, they found the ground to be stable. Various remnants of broken furniture stuck out from nooks and crevices, but they didn’t find any technology.

  “You’d think there would be something.”

  Char pulled Terry to her. “There doesn’t have to be anything. The thought of what was here is enough. We are on a journey of discovery, are we not? One foot on sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never.”

  “Much Ado About Nothing, but here there is something to do.”

  Terry ducked to look beneath a massive slab. He found a flashlight in his jacket that held all things, as if the resort had known, and shined it into a small hole.

  “There’s empty space.” He pointed into the opening.

  “As in, anything that fell in there may have survived the wreckage and the violence of time,” Char said.

  Terry stood and flexed his biceps in the Mister Universe pose. “Think we can move this, lover mine?”

 

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