Up ahead, he could see his team had started passing through the transmat. He dug deep to force his tiring legs to carry him just that little bit further. His ears began to agonize over the pressure build up. His lungs found exhaling more and more difficult as the air became thicker. He was slowing. He held his breath. Kaig gambled on being able to cover the remaining five yan without needing air not already inside him. He saw the last of his men disappear through the transmat. They were safe, that was a good thing. They’d quickly learned that these terrifying creatures were nothing like the Lavan species his ancestors had domesticated, although it could move through solid rock in a manner akin to a fish moving through water. Three yan remained. If he didn’t make it to the transmat, he wouldn’t have to have that awkward discussion with his wife, but he would never see his unborn daughter. Kaig realized he wasn’t running for his life, he was running for something much more important.
One yan to go…
* * * *
Hoz was at the transmat terminal, panting heavily. It was the fastest he had ran in a long time. He had been one of the first back to the hab-dome transmat and was operating the transmat pad in the tunnel remotely. With each Boromite that came through, there was a lifting of a dreaded burden. Twelve had passed through safely from below. Five more remained unaccounted for, including Kaig. One after another, more bodies translated from deep below. Two Boromites were now left in danger. Hoz was vaguely aware of the comm-chime being activated by Ergeer, another one of the team that was safely out of the tunnel. He caught Grita’s voice on the other side of the transmission, the mission debrief would happen quickly. Another Boromite appeared on the transmat. Only Kaig remained. Hoz was not aware he was holding his breath as his eyes were fixed on the control station, hand firmly pressed to maintain the integrity of the two linked transmat devices. The other Boromites had managed to muster themselves together and began checking each other for wounds. Other than slight bruising and exhaustion, they were fine.
“No,” gasped Tark. Hoz’s eyes darted over to what had the other man’s attention – the trans-link indicator flicker out. Connection with the tunnel transmat had been lost. Silently, all eyes darted toward Tark and then at the control array he was monitoring. The link was lost.
A pained gasp for air emanated from the center of the transmat in the room. “That… was... close…” the prostrate form of Kaig groaned.
Relief washed over the Boromites as a cheer rang out from the excited gang. Hoz scanned the transmat log. The translation from the tunnel pad was severed by power loss, probably by the destruction of the transmat as the devouring colossus smashed through it, robbed of a Boromite- shaped meal.
“You stupid brute!” A delighted Grita exclaimed as she waddled into the room and rushed to her husband’s side. She carefully knelt down to embrace him. “You stupid, lucky, rock-headed, arrogant, brute!” Her words were lost to sobs as she nuzzled into her husband’s shoulder.
Realizing that perhaps the mission debrief may not occur as soon as he thought, Hoz organized the rest of the team out of the room. A short visit to the med-bay was in order for them all.
* * * *
Kaig’s feet tingled. The instant the shuttle had taken off, the discomfort kicked in. He didn’t dare ask any of the other Boromites in the cramped transport space about their feet. He glanced around the compartment; much of the room was taken up by specialist surveying equipment and cumbersome Boromite bodies. Kaig’s heart was not in this prospecting mission, which was visible by his demeanor to his fellow guildmates. He wanted to be back with his wife, she was due to give birth very soon. Grita had managed to persuade him that this was an important mission, worth a lot to the guild. That was not the reason he had relented to lead the crew. Grita had also stated that her sister was to visit to discuss the ceremony of her marriage. Considering his options, Kaig had resolved that the nausea and discomfort in his feet was the lesser of two evils. His eyes continued to review the interior of the transport craft; it was gaudy, much unlike the humility of his humble abode, but such was how the Freeborn were. They were due to rendezvous with the main Freeborn vessel that was currently accelerating toward the system’s gate. It had been deeper in-system and would collect them on the way back to the system-gate before translating through to Antares and onto the gates beyond.
One of the Freeborn shuttle pilots entered the cramped space. “There has been a minor change to the docking plan. We’re going to be remotely picked up by the Gilded Starlight’s transmats.”
There was a minor muttering around the Boromites as they looked around each other before settling on the resolute face of the rock father. “Sure.” He said dismissively.
“Excellent, we should be within range shortly.” The pilot headed back through into the cockpit as an outbreak of muttering relating to how Freeborn could never stick to plans broke out around the Boromites.
A few moments later some of the equipment vanished, providing the Boromites with a bit more room. After a few further moments, Kaig found himself on the transmat pad of the Guilded Starlight.
* * * *
“Greetings,” a flamboyantly dressed Freeborn was ready to greet his new Boromite guests. His tall, yet slight stature was hidden beneath layer upon layer of robes, with each garment more vividly patterned than the next. “Apologies for the last minute change of plans. Means we can get going quicker. Seluban, we have our precious cargo with us, please take us to the gate.” He glanced at each of the Boromites in turn. “I am Doma Rix, welcome to my ship. I trust you will find this journey a pleasant one. If there is anything you require, please let one of the crew know,” he said as he raised his arm with a flourish, the long sleeves billowing with the movement. “And now gentlemen, please allow me to escort you to your quarters.” He announced as he made his way out of the room.
Kaig nodded to his kinsmen and they filed out silently behind him. The rock father could not make up his mind if this Rix person was wearing what passed as the most cutting edge of what many would consider fashion, or if he were the worst dressed panhuman he had ever met. Such attire was beneath a practical Boromite. As they walked, Kaig had noted that the few crew-members that passed by showed immense respect for their doma. He considered that perhaps Rix wore the flowing robes and tassels to hide concealed weapons or to project an aloofness to mislead a thoughtless assailant. Kaig barely noticed that Rix had not ceased talking as they entered into the dormitory.
“I understand that you are comfortable maintaining your own privacy. You have this whole area to yourselves. There are communication tools around if required. Please excuse me for now, I have some pressing matters to attend to before we leave the system.” Without pausing for breath or leaving a moment to engage in conversation, Rix was traveling back along the corridor, the door sliding shut behind him.
“It’ll do.” Hoz gruffly exclaimed as he tentatively perched upon a bunk. There were murmurs of general dissatisfaction all around. Not quite up to Boromite expectations, but few places outside the guild were. The Boromites allocated the remaining bunks between themselves. There was plenty of space in the dormitory. Kaig could see there were nutrition dispensers and hygiene pods. As much as he hated to admit to himself, it was probably better than spending time with his sister-in-law.
* * * *
Weeks had gone by since the Gilded Starlight had transitioned through the system gate, orbiting Antares, which linked an untold number of systems together. At no point had the Boromites had need to call upon their hosts. At no point in the journey had Doma Rix or any of the Freeborn disturbed the Boromites. Until now.
“Doma Rix requests your presence.” An unrecognized voice through the intraship comm system interrupted the Boromites’ usual routine. “Please prepare to be greeted and escorted shortly.” The comm fell silent.
“It’ll be good to get out of this box for a while, I guess.” Tark stretched as he stood up; echoes of agreement sprang up around the others. Their line of work included spending la
rge amounts of downtime in close proximity to each other. The secret was not to irritate the other members of the group; of course there was the usual teasing between the Boromites, but it was all good-natured. They had a tight bond born from this camaraderie that kept them together. Many of the self-proclaimed advanced societies completely ignored their kind. To which the Boromites considered best for all concerned.
The door slid open revealing a panhuman crew-member. “This way if you please.” She did not pause to wait as she made her way down the corridor. The Boromites filed though behind her, a quick pace ensured they had caught her up at the destination. “Which one is Kaig?” inquired the crew-member, blankly looking at each of the faces that were clearly foreign to her. The Boromites instinctively allowed Kaig to move to the front. “Please follow me. The rest of you are to dine with the team that will be accompanying the survey mission. I appreciate that much of the work performed will be to your specialties, but Rix believes this team integration will benefit both landing parties.”
Hoz flashed a concerned glance at Kaig, who in turn placed a hand on his colleague’s shoulder, whispering with a smile. “Least you don’t have the honor of our host’s company.”
Kaig watched the Boromites shuffle into the elaborate dining area, but the Freeborn team had not yet arrived. His attention turned to the crew-member. The Freeborn nodded and she guided Kaig through several more corridors before arriving at the doma’s personal quarters.
Had anyone else been seated in the chair at the far side of Rix’s quarters, they would look completely out of place. Almost as out of place as Kaig felt being in this room. The chair, the consoles, the whole room, appeared to be an extension of Rix’s attire. Material flowed along the walls, around the furniture, and across the floor. The lighting was such that it seemed to make the tawdry colors glow. The solitary figure of Rix in his nonconformist garb remained seated. He nodded dismissively at the guide that had brought Kaig.
“Please,” Rix pointed at a large vid-slate embedded in the wall surrounded by lace, “tell me what you see.” An image of a shuttle against a backdrop of empty space appeared. Inexplicably the shuttle exploded in a silent fireball.
Kaig’s brow narrowed thoughtfully, wondering what Rix was alluding to. “The shuttle we were to be brought aboard on had been sabotaged by an unknown agent.” Kaig articulated theoretically. “You had become aware of the threat and had us transported here directly.”
“Almost.” The reply came calmly as Rix pressed his hands together. He sat quietly, watching the Boromite. “However, the agent was known. It was us.” Rix leaned forward. “You are a dead man.” The words hung in the air between them. Eyes silently fixed upon each other, both trying figure the other one out.
Kaig heard the words, but instantly thinking through the moment again, he could not detect any threat or malice. From what Kaig could discern, Rix had purely stated a fact. The Boromite’s eyes keenly studied the doma; he did not anticipate any immediate threat to his life. Kaig felt like he was being tested, but not on his prospecting skills. In the few moments of stillness, Kaig had appraised the situation and crafted a response. “Yet you considered that my men and I were worth saving.”
Rix waved a dismissive hand toward his guest. “Goodness, no. I could not care if you were alive or not. My problem was I could not understand the motivation of the sponsor who had requested an elaborate plot, just to have you killed. Some enhanced trading rights were exchanged for your demise. But in my line of work, I have come to understand that nothing happens without reason.” Rix paused. Kaig felt the Freeborn’s eyes study him, in the same way Kaig himself would survey a rock face. “Fortunately for you, another sponsor provided us with details about Concord exploration ships gathering animatedly near a gate. There is word that an ancient underground civilization left artifacts. Artifacts that I can swoop in and take from under the dithering Concord’s noses, before trading them back to them for profit.” Rix broke off momentarily and let the Boromite mull over the information, an eerie smile creeping over the doma’s face. “I request your assistance. Seeing as you’re now dead to the universe, I’d heartily recommend you agree.”
Kaig’s mind was a wealth of emotion and commotion. Who wanted him dead? Was there a scheme to have him killed? Had Rix made all this up and was it part of a test? What could he unearth from an ancient civilization? “What if I refuse?” A gruff threat of denial issued from between clenched Boromite teeth.
“Catch.” The Freeborn said as he gracefully revealed a digislate from beneath one of the many layers of material adorning his throne. Kaig caught it, images appeared, and the Boromite watched them intently. “It’s yours to keep.” Rix added as he leaned back in the chair. “It’s only a recording. But so long as we keep getting signals from our source, we’ll keep it updated when we can.”
Kaig’s eyes were fixated on the digislate. He could see his quarters where he had left Grita. It looked unusual. The angle appeared to be from near the floor. The camera moved to gain more height, wobbling as if it were climbing something. The focus of the image changed. There was a tiny Boromite baby sleeping in a crib wrapped in the swaddling he had made for his daughter. Kaig looked up at Rix, his mouth open, but for the first time in many a long year, no words came out.
“Yes, she is beautiful. You should be a proud father of one as cute as that.” Rix grinned. “Although, I like to think of her as insurance. You cooperate and your daughter gets to live a reasonably happy life. She’ll never know her father, but you understand now that you are dead, you can never go back there. If you make any attempt to contact your previous guild, the consequences would be dire. Those modified micromites pack an almighty bang when they are detonated remotely. You’d be surprised how freely some of your kind give these critters away. One client offered me as many of those things as I wanted.” The grin across Rix’s face widened, his eyes beamed maniacally. “Then a little application of my own visual recording technology after having their brains scooped out, before a delicate addition of a small charge for every eventuality.” He clapped his hands together loudly, imitating and reinforcing the threat. The quiet of the room returned, Rix’s voice again a gentle tone as his grin faded. “I’m sure you could probably try and kill me. That would be an interesting duel. Even if somehow you survived that contest, you could try and fight your way through the entire crew. But you’d have to make sure that not a single one of us survived and got back to that system to detonate the critter.” The Freeborn’s voice began to tail off. “I wouldn’t like to chance those odds if it were me...” Rix eased back into his throne and buried his arms into the folds of the flowing fabric.
Kaig pushed his lips together in frustration. “So we’re your slaves then? Here to do as you please, shackled by the hostages you’ve taken both here and in my home?” Kaig understood how dire his situation was, entangled by the desire for his daughter to live a full life.
“You are permanent additions to my crew.” Rix countered. “The word ‘slave’ seems so dramatic and obsolete.” Rix removed his arms from between the fabric pockets, leaving whatever weapons that could have been held within, and took to his feet. “And as a member of my crew, we need to discuss your mission.”
* * * *
The view from the disembarkation ramp of the transport ship was magnificent. The rich blue sky was a stark contrast to the buff-yellow rocky ground. A ridge in the surface cut through a reasonably flat area to the south, gently easing into a set of hills that became mountains to the east. Continuing around, the distant area to the north was blocked by a tall sprawling cave entrance, until completing the panoramic back to distant flatlands to the west. The air had a dryness to it, reflected by the lack of any meaningful vegetation growing. There were scatterings of small greenery in the shadier areas, the hot sun having scorched any hope of something growing in the exposed ground. Many millennia ago, the planet may have had running water and a host of life. Since that time, the star had expanded, having consumed most of
its hydrogen. Given a few more hundred thousand years, the star would probably start consuming the planet.
The solar disk was heading down toward the horizon. They intended to land in the local afternoon, ready to prepare mainly for overnight working. They did not anticipate being here for all that long.
It was a race to complete the mission between the unforgiving geography, the imminent arrival of Concord troops, and reports of conflict that had registered on sensors as the Gilded Starlight moved through the system. The ship had taken up a stationary orbit around the pole of the planet to ensure it was not detected. The transport ship indicated that the likelihood of being detected by the forces engaged in the far off conflict was minimal.
“We’re not here for a rest.” Shim’s voice cracked over the comm as she stepped out of the transport ship. “Let’s see what’s there for the taking and get out.”
She strode down the disembarkation ramp, her armored form almost indistinguishable to that of her male counterparts. She had been assigned as the leader of this mission by Rix and had completed several missions such as this, all very successfully to the delight of her employer. Kaig noted that she had been eyeing the Boromites for the entirety of the decent in the transport ship.
Beyond Antares Dimensional Gates Page 18