B-Beep, B-Beep. “FTL livelink connected.”
The Navy symbol dissolves, and the face of Admiral Alexia Sadler once again appears in Cole’s apartment.
“Cole,” says Alexia. Her arms are tucked behind her back, puffing out her chest in that way she does when she’s unusually pleased. “Good work on that moon. We located a high-value seditionist asset. A frigate wing is already en route to interdict. Unfortunately, the data on the seditionist Bracer was partially corrupted. My techs think it may have been wiped.”
Because I wiped it, Cole thinks.
“We were hoping to track down the Strider that sold the access codes. Did you happen to pick up any clues when you found the Bracer?”
“Afraid not.”
“I didn’t think so, but better to ask. In any case, I’ve already transferred the funds to your account for a job well done. I knew I could count on you.”
“You knew that, huh?” Cole reaches his hand under a fold of blanket, hidden from his mother’s view, and closes his fist around a Dreamscape inhaler. The very Dreamscape inhaler he plans to snort as soon as the call ends. A pit of guilt sinks in his stomach. “That’s what you knew? That you could count on me?”
Alexia’s subtle crow’s feet pull together as her eyes narrow. “All right. I believed I could count on you. You got clean once. I’m hoping you use this money to do it again. In fact, I’m hoping you will do it on the Freedom Endeavor.”
The mention of Cole’s home—the generational starship on which he grew up—tugs at his heart. His eyes drift back to the fishbowl. “Two calls after six years. My whole childhood you were away in space. And now what? We eat breakfast in the Admiral’s mess and reminisce about old times? Doesn’t work that way, Mom.”
“You think a civvie is getting invited to breakfast with the admiral?” Alexia scoffs. “Hell no. There’s plenty of good diners in the can-flats.”
Cole smiles, amused by her military sarcasm.
“The Endeavor will leave this system in a few months,” Alexia continues. “She’ll become a museum ship, touring the Cygnus-Ikiru Traverse for the rest of her days. And for a clean and sober ex-Strider who happens to be riding along, I’m pretty sure there’s an officer’s commission up for grabs.”
He looks at his mother in surprise. A Navy post? he thinks. It was never about the money or the intel. She was testing me. “A commission? Are you serious?”
“No promises. But I do know the admiral pretty well. I’m sure I could pull some strings.”
The offer is tempting. Cole’s recent hit of adrenaline has stirred his long-forgotten love of the edge. But living under the stifling martial dictates of his mother and her beloved fleet… “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Alexia gives him a faint smile. “It’s been good seeing you, son.” She reaches down for the end button.
“Admiral.”
Alexia pauses. “Yes?”
“What are the fleet and the Trueborn so interested in? What’s on that ship?”
“Who said anything about a ship?”
“The seds,” Cole says. “When I apprehended them. Something about a ‘cure’ for Morphoplast Rampancy. There any truth to that?”
“If there was, I wouldn’t be at liberty to comment. Sorry, Cole, but I have a briefing with the Councilor Prime. We’ll talk later.” Thinking better of the comment, Alexia adds, “At least, I hope we will. Goodnight, son.”
Cole resists the urge to say I love you. Old habits and all that. “Goodnight.”
The hologram vanishes. Cole sits in contemplation for a moment. Then he flops back on the bed and pulls out the inhaler. He presses the spouts into his nostrils. He’s about to hit the button and drift into a night of ecstasy, but a thought stops him.
A Strider. Turned Trueborn.
He can’t let it go.
Cole tosses the inhaler aside and keys in a comm address on his Bracer. There’s a beeping as it dials.
“Cole Sadler.” Synthia answers with her usual emotionless timbre. But there’s the slightest quickened pace to her words—a sure sign she’s pleased. “How may I assist?”
“Synthia. I need you to find someone for me. Someone I need to talk to…”
“Of course. The Starnet packet queue is at high volume currently, but I should be able to clear a channel.”
“No, Synthia, I don’t need a Starnet channel. I need the Agora.”
A brief pause on the other line—perhaps a second. A life age for an AI. “The Strider Agora has not been used in some time, but the servers are intact.”
“Connect me.”
“But Cole Sadler, the Mercenary Adventurism and Vigilantism Reform Act of 2226 renders access illegal.”
“Synth, I need a favor. It’s Kimiko. There’s a chance she’s caught up in something bad. She might even be guilty of…Look, I need to talk to her.”
“Cole, I cannot violate the hard-won trust between Humanity and Artificial Life. To break the law would be to corrupt my programming.”
“Not all laws are just!” Cole snaps. He takes a breath, wondering how to persuade a quantum intelligence possessed of the entire library of Human knowledge. “Synthia, whatever Kimiko’s caught up in—I’ve got a feeling it’s bigger than a few angry colonials. Like a storm is coming. I feel it in my gut. Sometimes, being a Strider means doing bending the rules to do what’s right.”
No reply.
Cole’s voice drops to an ever-softer mutter. “And I’ll…look at those addiction resources…you were talking about.” When Synthia doesn’t respond, Cole says through clenched teeth, “Synth, please.”
“…Searching.”
“That’s my girl,” Cole smirks.
“Unable to locate. Kimiko Toshie’s Strider emblem is not responding.”
Cole frowns. “Try again.”
“I’ve already tried twice.”
“Synthia, I need—“
“However, I’ve detected another emblem active in the network.”
“What? Whose?” Cole jumps down and reaches under his bed. He opens a secret compartment in the floor and retrieves a wooden case.
“The emblem of Henry Jacob Hart.”
“Hank?” Cole feels like he’s been gutpunched. A memory of eight years ago flashes through his mind.
A nineteen year old kid hanging off a ledge in the vacuum of space, nothing but clouds and continents beneath his feet. His face is bloody beneath his visor. His gloved hand reaches for Cole, fear in his eyes.
“Yes,” Synthia replies. “Henry Hart, also known as Hank. My files list him as killed in action at the Siege of Swarga.”
“I know.” Cole closes his eyes against the memory. “I was there. How can his emblem be active?”
“Unknown. It is highly improbable that he is still alive.”
“Can you locate?”
“The emblem’s navigational signature places it within half a lightyear of this star system.”
“That’s about where the seditionists were searching,” Cole muses. “Can’t be a coincidence. Connect his badge to the Agora.”
“Acknowledged. Do you wish me to convey a message?”
“No.” Cole opens the case. Inside, he finds a metal badge with eagle’s wings, twin pistols, and the Strider helmet. He runs his hands over the words etched on the tiny plaque beneath the helmet. Service. Valor. Liberty. “Connect me.”
Synthia should be shocked to learn Cole is in illegal possession of his Strider emblem, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “Acknowledged. Connecting you now.”
A chill of pure adrenaline runs down Cole’s spine as Synthia speaks the signature phrase from the old days.
“Standby for upload.”
Mark 09
EMS McKinney Steward
Interstellar Space, Coordinates Unknown
April 11, 2232
1803 Hours, OGT
The moment Karli touches her brother Hank’s Stri
der Badge, the starlit corridor of McKinney Steward vanishes. It's a sensation worse than artificial gravity kicking in. Karli plunges into darkness so complete, she only knows she’s falling by the sheer vertigo. She flails her arms, desperate to save herself. Just when she thinks she can’t take another second, her eyes open.
All is calm. Karli is standing in the middle of a beautiful, ancient amphitheater. Marble columns encircle a stone square. There’s a dais and granite bleachers. Beyond them, there are no buildings, no horizon. Only the endless celestial depths of space. As if she were standing in some ancient structure adrift in space. Nebulae, stellar nurseries, and stars of every color fill the sky like a mural of Heaven. The unreality of it catches her so off guard, she says the first words that come to mind.
“Uh…hello?”
“You’re not Hank,” murmurs the voice of a man behind her.
Karli spins around. A slender man, perhaps in his late twenties, with a plain shirt stretched over lean muscles stands before her. His pouty eyebrows and a few subtle birthmarks on his skin give him a boyish charm. But the dark circles under his eyes, his long and unkempt black hair, and the gauntness in his cheeks make him intimidating. “Who are you? What is this place?”
“Who the hell are you?” he replies. “You’re not Hank Hart. But you’re able to answer his badge, which means you have a Strider implant. Never saw you before, though…and what the hell’s that gunk all over you?”
“I—I’m,” she stutters. “I’m Karli Hart. Hank was my brother.”
“How did you get a Strider implant?”
“I…ah…” Karli feels her heart starting to race. The worst memory of her mother threatens to rise to the surface. It’s an answer she can’t bear to give. “I got it a long time ago, okay? But I never became a Strider. It’s a long story. Please, who are you? What is this place?”
The man narrows as he sizes her up, but he doesn’t press the issue. “My name is Cole Sadler and this is the Agora. It’s a virtual reality that allowed Striders to communicate across hundreds of lightyears from anywhere in the galaxy.” He points at her. “What’s that gunk all over you?”
The mention of the alien sludge reminds Karli that this peaceful place isn’t real—she’s still stranded in that fungus-infested ship, cold and alone. Although this Cole is a stranger, there’s something confident in his athletic posture, something plain spoken in his brisk voice, something kind in his redwood brown eyes.
She steps toward Cole, surprised to feel the flagstones cold under her feet. “Please, you gotta help me. I’m on a ship, lost in space. I don’t know where. There’s some kind of alien on board—like a giant blob eating everything in its path. I don’t know what to do. The crew…” Karli’s voice croaks as she feels new tears coming on. “They’re all dead. I’m all alone. Please, you gotta help me!”
Cole’s sharp eyebrows draw together. “Slow down, kid. You’re not making any sense. What do you mean ‘alien blob?’”
“I mean some kind of fungus that stinks like chemicals all over everything. Bug creatures with knives for legs chasing me.” Karli’s words come out in a hysterical gush. She knows she’s panicking, but she can’t stop herself. “Oh, God, and the people with their bodies…hollow.” She claps a hand to her mouth to stay her own sobs, but it’s no use. “The things…they ate their insides…like worms eating the insides of rotted fruit. Oh God…”
“Hey! Snap out of it!” Cole closes his hands around Karli’s shoulders. “You have a Strider implant, which means whatever else you were, you were a recruit. Act like one!”
Calm falls over Karli. To her amazement, she can feel the warmth of his touch as if he’s there. A warm, human touch, and the relief is overwhelming. She throws her arms around him and burrows against him, sobbing. He’s a complete stranger, and she doesn’t care. “I’m sorry. I’m trying. But I don’t know what to do. Please don’t leave me on this ship. You gotta believe me.”
“Calm down. I believe you. We’re going to figure this out. Let’s start with your position. Are you safe where you are right now? Do you have shelter?”
“I don’t know.” Karli sniffs back her sobs, fighting to get ahold of herself. “I made it to the outer hull and none of those things seem to be around.”
“Good! There should be escape rafts on even vault levels, spaced every two dozen meters. Can you get to—?”
Karli shakes her head. “I tried already. The life rafts are all locked down due to some kind of quarantine.”
Cole’s eyes are searching, as if something about that last word piqued his interest. “I’m guessing by your stasis monitor suit, you’re not crew. Do you know the ship well?”
She shakes her head, arms tucked around her chest, her posture hunched. “I’ve never even been to space.”
“What about the ship’s AI? Has it been able to guide you?”
“There’s something wrong with the computer. But I’ve got a drone. Um…a KitBot. She’s, um, helping me?” Karli’s answer winds up sounding more like a question.
“A KitBot. That’s a kid’s toy. You’re kidding, right?”
The sarcastic tone in the man’s voice hits a sore spot. Karli snaps, “Hey, it’s all I got, okay buddy?”
“All right, all right,” says Cole. “Fair enough…Synthia.”
A few steps away from the two of them, colors ranging from indigo to lemon burst into life. They form into the figure of a young woman made of light. Yellowish tones resolve into jewelry, blonde hair, and bright hazel eyes. Greenish tones become her elegant gown, with a single strap set opposite a slit in her skirt along a slender leg. More subtle colors shade in her youthful skin and tasteful blush of makeup.
The avatar of Synthia says, “How can I assist, Cole?”
“Can you connect to Karli’s drone and reprogram it to help?”
“The drone is designed for entertainment,” Synthia replies, “and it has limited processing power and storage. But I will do what I can…triangulating Karli’s emblem. Opening Starnet comms to EMS McKinney Steward. Wifi connection to drone established.”
“Be careful with Kitty,” Karli says. “Please.”
“Update complete,” Synthia replies. “I have uploaded the ship’s meta data, including access codes, technical schematics, and manifests. I also wrote custom firmware to allow the KitBot to interpret the files and assist.”
“Good work, Synth.” Cole holds Karli by the shoulders and meets her eyes intently. “All right, Karli, listen carefully. Your drone’s got all the data Synthia could upload. It should be able to guide you through the ship and open doors. I want you to head for the bridge if you can. Use the ship’s internal cameras to stay clear of the creatures.”
“What if I can’t reach it? What if those things are in the way?”
“Try for engineering. Either location should allow you to connect Synthia. If you can do that, she can override the lockdown and find you a way off the ship.”
Karli shakes her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Listen to me, kid.” Cole speaks in a stern tenor. “You made it this far. And you’ve got a Strider implant, which tells me you were at least a recruit. That means you’re a fighter. You’re going to stay alert and you’re going to keep fighting. You’re going to use the drone to guide you. And if things get too hairy, you’re going to tap that emblem on your chest and find me here. You are going to make it.”
He sounds so certain, so convincing, Karli finds herself nodding.
“Say it.”
Karli takes a big breath. “I’m going to make it.”
The hint of a smile tugs at Cole’s lip. “Damn right, you are. Now, I’m close to your position so I’m getting on the nearest starship. I am coming to get you as fast as I can, and I will get you out of there. That’s a promise from a Strider.”
“Okay.” A promise from a Strider. Karli grew up hearing of the heroic defenders of the Human Family—lone heroes wandering the
galaxy, sworn to protect spacefarers and preserve the peace among species. It was said no Strider ever broke an oath. “When will you get here?”
Without breaking eye contact, Cole says, “Synthia?”
“Assuming top hyperlight speeds,” Synthia replies, “approximately seventy-seven hours.”
“Three days?!” Karli cries. “What am I supposed to do for three days?”
For a moment, the ex-Strider is silent. His reply is as hard as granite.
“Survive.”
Coming up in Galaxyborn:
Karli must survive until Cole arrives, but a complication aboard the McKinney Steward forces her to journey into the heart of darkness—and unravel a terrifying mystery.
Meanwhile, Cole hires a dependable-enough crew of space salvagers to take him to the McKinney—if he can just stay sober.
Next
Issue 3: “The Faceless”
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Galaxyborn Season 1 is a series of eBook novellas by Garrett Bettencourt. New issues will be published on Kindle throughout 2021 starting July 4th. Join the mail list at Galaxyborn.com to be notified when new issues arrive and get access to bonus content!
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