Omnigalactic

  I let out a whoop of victory and reengaged the Lady Luna's Interspace beacon. Up ahead, the Wyn Gate swirled, until the white and black of Interspace appeared. I accelerated to full throttle and blasted through.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Top of the World

  The day we arrived on Anura and secured a temporary dock in Ritan City, I received an instamail from my mother. She wondered how I was doing and hoped that everything was going smoothly. I chuckled when I read that. If she’d known what I’d gone through, she'd probably have killed me. I opted to leave all that out.

  At the very end of the message, she mentioned that whenever I was back in town, she and my father would have liked to have me over for dinner. I did miss her cooking, and I'd have loved to dive into a wedge of bog cheese.

  I had an impromptu staff meeting with Jord and Glennsworth. We discussed our budget and what supplies we needed. A payment of ten-thousand bitcreds was transferred to Valo at the junkyard, to which his response was, “That's it? Hope there's more where that came from!” The nerve of that crusty old bastard. Anyway, I brought up the meeting with my parents, and Jord said I deserved a little rest and recreation.

  So, we split up, and I took a taxi to the more upscale part of the residential district. When I say “upscale”, I mean the rich part of town. The part where all the bankers, financial tycoons, athletes, celebrities, and the like lived. Domed mansions — some wide, some tall, some wide and tall — sparsely dotted one section of natural wetland and bogs. Nunu birds perched on the algae-encrusted trees and kept watch for predators. I didn't know what predators, because all the long-necked vanar lived outside the city limits. But, natural instinct never dies, I guessed.

  The taxi pulled up to the Cadel Estate. I paid the fifty-two bitcred fare and stepped out. Insects chattered from unknown areas, and teal-spotted arnai lizards scurried along the edges of the narrow walkway leading up to the house. I made it to the driveway, where my dad's dirt-brown luxury truck and my mom's swamp-green sports car were parked.

  I turned, hopped up the set of weathered stone stairs, and opened the finely-carved, wooden door into the mansion. The foyer was laden with rich, varnished, marshwood flooring, and a tall oil painting of my grandparents, Nylla and Sarno, stared at all who set foot in the Cadel Estate.

  I’d never met my grandfather. He’d apparently died of a massive stroke the year before I’d been hatched. My grandmother, however — whew! She was a mean old crone. What my grandfather had seen in her, I'd never know. She’d kept me and my siblings alive and fed while my parents were away on business trips, so I was thankful for that, at least.

  In another room — most likely, his office — I could hear my dad talking to someone on his PCD. Must have been a conference call with company shareholders, because they were talking about stock prices and the quarterly profit reports. The old man was a stickler, but he was a hard worker.

  My mom came from around the corner and startled me. “Sai!” she cried and swarmed me with hugs and kisses. “My little amoeba has come home!”

  “Hey, Mom, I got your instamail,” I said, my face pressed hard against her bony shoulder.

  “Oh, I'm so glad you're okay. I know it's only been a couple weeks, but I got so worried sick, with you being out there on your own.”

  “Mom, I've been on my own for a decade now,” I said. “C'mon, let me go. You're crushing me.”

  She gave me one last peck on the cheek. “I know, but after the crash, your father and I couldn't stop thinking about you. It may not seem like it when you're together, but your father deeply cares about you. Speaking of your father - Sar! Sai is here!”

  My dad came out of his office with his PCD glued to his earhole. He told whoever it was that he would have to call them back and hung up. “Son, good to see you.”

  “Curb your excitement, Pops,” I said.

  Mom slapped my arm. “You two play nice. You hungry? You must be famished. Let me cook you something.” She hurried into the kitchen, muttering ingredients.

  My dad nodded his head over to the deck out back. “Let's talk outside. I need some fresh air after talking to those bloodthirsty vanar.”

  I followed him through the expansive living room, past the digivision with a bunch of talking heads discussing the economy. The moss-covered, stone deck overlooked a vast swathe of green-and-yellow reeds. The sun hung high above the horizon, just past midday. My dad opened a see-through compartment and pulled out a short, wooden pipe, and a bag labeled “Chill Moss”. I joined him at the marble-topped table while he stuffed his pipe.

  I wasn't sure how to start the conversation, so I brought up what was on the digivision. “How have things been since the crash?”

  He took a few puffs of the pipe. “The economists say it's going to be a long one. People are hurting for work. I've since had to cut staffing in the employment department and cease hiring, just to keep prices affordable for customers. Can't let them go without power — especially with so many power companies going under. While other companies jacked up their prices to maintain a bloated staff, I did the opposite. It may be a good thing in the long run. We have an untapped sector of the market looking for cheap power, which means we stay afloat through this thing.”

  “I remember reading something about that in the book,” I said. “‘Capitalizing on the Crisis’, I think it was called.”

  I could see my dad's eyes becoming bloodshot as he took a few more puffs. “Ah, so you actually read my book. A part of me thought you'd just throw it out into space.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I wasn't lying to you when I said it was a bestseller. Did you finish it?”

  I remembered hanging over Shen'roth's toothy mouth, and the book falling into it. “Uh, well, I lost it before I read the last chapter. What was it?”

  “You might think it's ridiculous,” he said. “The last chapter was about how you don't need a dumb book to tell you how to run a business and be successful. Sure, it helps as a guide for the small intricacies of it all. You just need to have the guts to do it. To believe in yourself. Go for your dreams. That's what I was trying to tell you all those times. Instead of sitting around, drinking beer, and wondering if you were capable of anything greater, you had to go for it.”

  Of course, I had been too stupid and stubborn to see that. Everything that had happened on Melville made that clear. Who knew what I could have been if I had listened to him earlier? Regardless, I might have been a late bloomer, but I’d taken a step in the right direction — the first step of a thousand more.

  “As much as it hurts to say this,” I began, “You were right, Pops. I was too thickheaded to understand that.”

  “I know you were, son. But, I refused to give up on you. This begs another question: How's my investment doing?”

  “Well, Jord and I bought a starship,” I said. “She's old, but she gets the job done. We're doing freelance work here and there, but I think we've found our market. We actually just finished up a contract for fifty-thousand bitcreds. We're resupplying for the next one.”

  For the first time in years, I saw my dad smile. Was it the pipe easing his nerves? Perhaps. A part of me thought it was pride in his screw-up son.

  “That's excellent news,” he said. “Freelancing is a tough line of business, so don't get too confident that you'll always find work. That being said, if you think you've found a niche, pursue it.”

  My mom came out onto the deck, bearing a steaming plate of pan-seared reedfish, crusted in bog cheese - one of my many favorite dishes of hers. She gave me a little kiss on the head and walked over to my dad. She took the pipe from his hand and reminded him of the time he’d said he would quit.

  For the next few hours, the three of us sat there and made small talk, reminiscing about the old days and watching the sun fall toward the horizon. It was nice. A part of me had missed that. Sure, my parents had been away often, grinding and sweating at their busi
nesses, but they’d always made time for us.

  My PCD pinged, interrupting one of my mom's stories. It was Jord on instachat.

  Jord: Got everything we need. New contracts 4 review. U ready?

  Me: If you guys are ready, I'm ready.

  Jord: Ready 2 shoot these new guns!

  Me: Keep the safeties on, you psycho.

  Glennsworth: Sai, please return as soon as possible. The ogre is threatening to test the new firearms on me.

  Jord: Glennsworth this is a secure line between Sai n me. Ur on a need 2 know basis.

  Me: I'm about to leave. Jord, stop threatening employees.

  I stood up from my chair and stretched. “Well, I’d better get going. Have to start working on the next contract.”

  “Oh, no, already?” my mom asked. “You just got here.”

  “Come now, Yulina,” my dad said. “The boy has to get back to work. We both know how that is.”

  My mom stood up to hug me. “Please be safe, Sai. Don't do anything dangerous.”

  I laughed internally. If she’d only known. “Don't worry, Mom. I'll try to come back between jobs. And if I can't make it back, I'll instamail you. Okay?”

  She let me go and lightly pinched my cheek. Tears trickled from her shimmery, golden eyes. “You’d better.”

  I turned to my dad, and he shook my hand. “Hang in there, son. Take care.”

  I pulled him in for a hug. “Will do, Pops.” The hug went on for longer than I think either of us had anticipated. I gripped him harder, tighter, as if I really wanted to ask if I had made him proud. He hugged me harder in response. I think it was a “yes”.

  I left the Cadel Estate with a full belly and a reinforced sense that I was on the right path. I had no idea what was ahead of me, but something just clicked inside my head and in my heart. Who knew where it would lead me? But as long as I believed in myself, then nothing could stop me now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  My Own Boss

  We paid the temporary docking fee and left Ritan City. I burned through the atmosphere and put the Lady Luna in a low orbit around Anura for the time being. Once I was comfortable with her position, I flicked the autopilot switch, allowing the on-board computer to make any slight adjustments needed to maintain orbit.

  I hopped down from my chair and walked through the corridor into the crew cabin, where Jord and Glennsworth were busy scrolling through jobs on the Underweb.

  “What do we got, gentlemen?” I asked and plopped down on the bench next to them.

  “So far, there's two jobs that look right up our alley,” Jord said. “But, the Professor here doesn't seem to agree with me and thinks they'd be a waste of time. He thinks we ought to keep looking.”

  “It's not that I believe these contracts would be ‘a waste of time’,” Glennsworth said. “I simply believe our time should be spent on something more akin to, say, ‘Shen'roth-like incidents’.”

  “Basically, you don't think these jobs have anything to do with daemons,” I said and leaned back on the bench, putting my hands behind my head.

  “Precisely,” Glennsworth said. “Neither of these appear to have any signs of daemonic activity.”

  “Well let me hear your case, Jord.”

  “Okay.” Jord pulled up the two contracts side by side on the screen. “One of them is a Celyrian colony on Oputano, and they are willing to pay twenty-thousand to anyone who can get emergency supplies and armaments to them. The catch is there's a sizable Hanzan warband blockading the planet. The colony is pretty big, too — about three-thousand colonists. But, they say its only a matter of time before they're overrun with current provisions.”

  “While I think Glennsworth is right,” I said, “twenty-thousand bitcreds is nothing to blow off. What else is there?”

  “The other job — and you might laugh at this,” Jord started, giggling a little. “Is on Chloran. The Chlorani are having trouble getting rid of a ‘large, insectoid, xylophagusitic organism’.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

  Jord chuckled. “I didn't know, either. So, I looked it up - it means something that eats wood.”

  My guts busted with laughter. “The tree people can't get rid of a termite infestation?! That's gold, man. How much are they offering?”

  “Less than the Celyrian contract. Fifteen-thousand, five-hundred.”

  Glennsworth pointed at the screen. “Understand my point, now? These are a complete waste of our time and resources.”

  “Listen here,” Jord said. “Remember your rank. We are your bosses. What do you think, Sai? Which one should we go for?”

  I rubbed my chin. “Hmmm. The Celyrian contract is a nice chunk of money, but it seems like more of a risk. Hanzans are vicious. Even if we managed to get past the blockade, who's to say we can make it out again? Hanzan ships are some of the fastest in the galaxy. The Lady Luna couldn't even outrun a few harpies. They would make short work of us. I think the Chloran job is the better choice.”

  “I agree,” Jord said. “It's settled, then. I'll apply to the bug job.”

  Glennsworth sighed. I could tell by his pursed lips and raised eyebrows that he was frustrated. As much as I agreed with him - and honestly, I still had the nagging desire to explore deeper into the paranormal, as well - the bottom line was the most important factor. Paying off Valo was the first step toward our enterprise's success — and my mental health.

  I'd have a pep-talk with him later. For now, he'd have to deal with it.

  I looked over at Jord. “By the way, what'd you pick up from Marshall?”

  Jord finished the application and led me down the short corridor leading to the engine room. We stopped just shy of it and turned left to face a blank, metal wall.

  “What am I looking at?” I said as I stared at the wall.

  He pressed his organic hand against the wall, and it opened vertically. Our entire arsenal of weapons hung from a brightly-lit, magnetic surface.

  Jord held his hands out in mock showmanship. “Ta-daa!” he sang. “Secret weapons compartment. I came across it by accident while mopping the floors. Hit the wall with my elbow, and it opened up.”

  “Nice,” I said. “Not everyday you find one of these.”

  Jord waved a hand at the weapons closer to the floor. “Everything that's yours is down here. I replaced your plasma pistol and added the same modifications, and I picked up a sweet-ass suppressor for it.”

  I nodded. “Awesome. Now, we can be all stealthy like in those spy movies.”

  “I also picked up a new slug shotgun for you. It has a bit less punch, but what you trade off for in power, you make up for in accuracy.”

  “What else did you get?” I asked.

  “Well, I replaced the Mark V and the plasma pistols, but he was all out of cryoflayers, so I couldn't get a replacement for that,” Jord answered. Then, he picked up a silvery-metallic weapon with glowing, red lights. It was almost as long as I was tall. “But, Marshall hooked me up with one of these babies - the T-34 plasma cannon.”

  “You bought a plasma cannon? Really?”

  He grinned like a madman. “You've never seen one of these in action, have you? Tsk-tsk. Two-hundred high-powered, toroid rounds per minute. This thing even makes the Icto shit their pants.”

  “Should we really have something that powerful aboard?” I asked, keeping my distance. I didn't want to accidentally blow a hole through the ship's hull and get sucked out into space.

  “Do you trust your Director of Ordnance or not?” he asked. I nodded. He opened a case of twelve six-inch-long, metal tubes, each with a blue vial inside. “Last thing I have to show you are these glue grenades. As their name implies, they're filled with a highly-adhesive substance. Tap the red button on the side to arm it, then throw. You have exactly five seconds to either throw it or disarm it before it explodes.”

  “How do you disarm it?”

  “Same thing. Just tap the red butto
n again. Got it?”

  “A hundred percent.”

  He smirked. “Should be fun taking out those bugs. It'll be like our hunting trips. Humping through the woods, lying in wait, then springing the trap.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Other than surviving, we need to make sure we complete whatever contract we set our eyes on. Paying off this damn ship is Priority Number One.”

  Jord put a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. We'll get it done. We have a good thing going for us. As much as Glennsworth pisses me off, I know a good fighter when I see one. Yeah, he's weird and a little too proper for my tastes, but if he helped you take out Shen'roth, I'm more than happy to have a guy like him standing next to me in a fight.”