The Chronicles of Clyde: Unafilliated

by F. E. Arliss

  “Hope to see you again, ma’am. It’s been a pleasure,” he added with a big smile. Then sobering, “No need to worry that I’ll mention this to a soul, ma’am. I won’t. Whispers get folks killed. I reckon that’s how Jessup got snatched. Someone said something they shouldn't have about the dare. I made twenty credits off the bet. Gave it all to his family. Couldn’t stomach anything else. A poor replacement for having him back,” he added gloomily, his shoulders slumping in dejection.

  “Thank you, Alfie,” Arc said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “This was very, very valuable information that you’ve helped me uncover. It may help a lot of people,” she added grimly.

  Alfie’s countenance lightened at that. “I hope so, ma’am. I hope so,” he said earnestly.

  With that, Arc turned and entered the coffee shop once more. No sense walking straight back to her shuttle and tipping off anyone watching about which ship was hers. Slithering through the service exit at the back of the cafe, Arc paused at a small window in the service hall to see if any movement gave away a person observing her. Nothing moved.

  Slipping through the teeming bay towards her shuttle, Arc employed every sneaky movement and deceptive play she’d learned as a child to avoid interactions with her family.

  She didn’t heave a sigh of relief until she was back onboard the Centurion and well out of sensor range for anyone. Even the Evelsons didn’t have sensors that could range out this far. She’d had General Monsav run a full diagnostic on the shuttle before allowing it to glide into the landing bay. No sense taking chances and bringing aboard a listening or tracking device. Or even something as awful as a genetic tracker. This family was capable of anything.

  Practically falling into General Monsav’s arms. Arc drew a deep breath and let out all she’d seen. After she’d explained what Alfie had seen in earlier days and her past connection to the man she’d seen enter the mountain fortress, Arc slumped with exhaustion.

  Quietly, the General had shushed her, carried her to her quarters and laid her gently on her bed. Six hours later when she woke, they were in a deep, fold-space jump. Well away from Uzi. Arc fell deeply asleep once again as the Idolum mite, Tilson, the Idolum clone-soldier that General Monsav had appointed as her guardian, assured her they were safe and away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Blood Isn’t Thicker Than Water

  When Arc stumbled from her bed a full sixteen hours after having been placed there by General Monsav, Tilson led her quickly to the view screen. They’d landed on Renegar and the Centurion was docked well into the rear of the huge concealed cavern on top of the burning, red desert plateau.

  “A bath first, Tilson. Then I’ll be ready to face them,” she said to the unresponsive mite. So far, Tilson had never said a peep to her, though some how she knew he understood her.

  “While I’m in the bath, would you please let my father and sister know that I need to speak to them privately,” Arc asked Tilson. “Commander Quirke is my father,” she added for safe measure. Tilson gave her a rather haughty look. Of course, he knew her father was Commander Quirke. “I apologize, Tilson. I should have known you would be completely informed as to all aspects of my life,” Arc said with a kindly pat on Tilson’s arm. He bowed his head in silent acceptance of her apology. Then dematerialized around a corner and was gone.

  Arc trudged with relief into the bathroom, stripped off her layers of weapons and armor that General Monsav had been too gentlemanly to remove, then sat propped against the wall of the shower cubicle for a good half an hour. Small green tendrils danced out of the moss-lined walls and caressed her gently. Several slightly thicker vines began massaging the shampoo into her scalp and another two giving her a fabulous foot massage. “I’m beginning to really love you guys,” she whispered to the gently moving vines. “You are awesome!”

  The small green shoots seemed to dance in pleasure. Raising and rinsing off one final time, Arc stepped out to a newly cleaned and polished set of armor. Ah, the wonders of an Idolum nest ship, she thought to herself. I need to get some of this stuff for the Clyde.

  Slipping on the last of the two dozen weapons she had secreted around her person. Arc leaned her head gently against the door to her quarters, took a deep breath and went to face her family. Her real family. Not her birth family. Tilson was there at her side. Somehow, an alien clone was far more reassuring than any of her birth family had ever been.

  When Arc stepped out of the Centurion and into the atmosphere of Renegar, its heat hit her in a warm wave of welcome. Sometimes it would be nice to take off her armor and really get some actual sun, she thought to herself. Renegar had real sun.

  At that thought a wave of sadness washed over her, causing her shoulders to slump. A gentle hand on the small of her back from Tilson, had her straightening her shoulders and casting him a grateful smile.

  Spotting the Clyde sitting to one side, Arc grinned and waved at both Coates and Cole as they moved around the exterior of the ship making repairs and checking components. They hurried over to give her quick hugs and ‘welcome backs’ before hurrying off once more gently squabbling over which item to check first.

  Arc saw Izzy, Dag’s pet hippolyte, gently dozing on a bed of hay in a nook against the craggy wall. It relieved Arc to know that all the crew was here and apparently safe.

  Tilson motioned for her to follow him and after proceeding across the great echoing cavern, they descended a set of stairs set into the side of the great red plateau. It was carved directly into the rock of the cliffs and with a roof the same size as the passage, about five feet she supposed, it kept the heat of the day at bay. Every twelve or fifteen feet a randomly shaped column with rough-hewn sides supported the rock overhead.

  The view out the side of the passage was exceptional. It reminded her of standing in the small interior of the Treasury at Petra on Earth and looking out into the baking sun of the desert. This view, however, was high up and encompassed mile upon mile of desert mountains falling away into the distance. It was as truly astonishing as Geboren had been, but in an entirely different way.

  Eventually the passage twisted back to the left and they entered a room carved into the mountain. It had high ceilings and was furnished with a mishmash of discarded furnishings from all over the galaxies. Arc loved it. It was warm and welcoming, and it held an array of comfortable chairs, chaise lounges and divans that held the people she loved the most.

  Her hostess, Captain Sasha Kelty, also the Queen of Renegar -- Arc realized that the title seemed more of a joke to Sasha than anything else -- rose to greet her. Quickly shaking hands, Sasha stepped aside to let her father take her in his arms for a brief hug. Birdie flew to her side, along with Dag, to enfold them both in an enormous group hug.

  “Please sit down and help yourself to something to drink and eat. You must be starved!” Sasha Kelty exclaimed. “We understand that you’ve found some very important information but wish to talk to your father privately first. I’m fine with that, and for now Dag and I will leave you alone to chat. Tilson will be right outside the chamber if you need to send for us,” Sasha said with a gentle smile. Then herding a disappointed Dag, left Arc alone with her father and sister.

  Arc slumped into the nearest chair. Its old, soft cushions a comfort after the grueling nature of her discoveries. “What’s up, girl?” her father asked. “You seem to have had some sort of shock,” he added, concern causing his wrinkled face to seem even more aged. “Tell us everything,” he demanded.

  Arc did. Starting with the history of her birth family on Earth, the Evelsons. Arc told Quirke and Birdie all about her disgustingly vulgar, greedy and cruel family. She’d escaped them at the tender age of twelve by running away to her maternal great-great grandmother.

  Everyone in the family believed her great-great grandmother had died, but Olivia Evelson had simply changed her name, faked a house fire, and disappeared into the ‘wilderness’ of rural Georgia. A place so heathen, as her cousins used to say, that it had no pur
pose except as a dumping ground for nuclear waste.

  Once a year Olivia sent a small missive to Calista Evelson, Arc’s real name, in the form of a invite to a children’s birthday party. It was a code her gran had taught her as soon as she learned to read. “Folks needed a way to stay private from this bunch of flesh-eating loons,” was how Olivia had put it, while teaching her the code.

  Party invitations were common for the family. Everyone wanted to be their friends, according to Primrose Evelson, Calista’s birth mother. Arc knew that that was definitely NOT the case. Everyone hated them and feared them. They sent invitations out of fear, not hope of friendship.

  Olivia’s missives were always just a cover for a set of coordinates. Finally, when she was old enough, and clever enough, Arc had done it. She’d run. By then, knowing every way to evade her cruel family and abusive siblings came in handy.

  She’d sneaked into the office of her father, Gustav Evelson, and stolen a package of ‘dark’ money chips out of his desk. The Evelsons were nothing but criminals as far as Arc could tell and ‘dark’ money chips were often in plain sight. No one stole them of course, because Gustav Evelson would simply track them down and kill them for doing it.

  Arc supposed he might track her down, but she was banking on knowing the ins and outs of this pack of jackals that was her family well enough to know how they’d go about the search, and how to avoid it.

  They hadn’t found her, much to her father’s consternation, she was sure. Since she’d told no one, the news reported that she’d been kidnapped. After seven years she’d been claimed as dead and her share of the Evelson empire, which would have come to her on her eighteenth birthday, was divided among her remaining siblings, Germaine, Todd, and Elora Evelson. Arc couldn’t have cared less.

  Her great-great grandmother had welcomed her with open arms, then hustled her far away from the coordinates she’d given Arc with which to meet her.

  They moved frequently until her grandmother Olivia’s health became too fragile to endure it. By then she was one hundred twenty-two years old and though that wasn’t an unusual age for people to live to, it did come with certain frailties.

  Olivia had tried to teach Arc everything she possibly could. When it appeared that Earth was about to go up in nuclear war, she’d sent her off to the recruiting station, told her to pick a name, any name, just not to tell anyone what that name would be. Olivia had excellent papers forged for Arc at a slyly concealed way-station across from the hiring hub.

  Not even the forger knew the name she’d picked as he had it put in by an android that was then automatically wiped after each set of papers was forged.

  She’d hugged her grandmother one last time and with tears in her eyes, knowing she’d never see her again, walked into the hiring hub.

  On the first day, she’d been hired by Ewan Quirke. It had seemed the longest few hours of her life had been the ones standing in line awaiting each ‘boss’ who came to look over their qualifications. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Arc thought she’d escaped the pack of wild dogs that had been her family, but now it seemed they’d turned up to haunt her new-found happiness.

  Continuing on with what she’d found on Uzi, Arc grimly recounted her recognition of her uncle and the madcap venture of following him with the help of young Alfie.

  Her explanation of the hidden entrance where they brought chained humans into the bowels of the fortress sent Ewan Quirke into a cursing rage. Pacing back and forth, he encouraged her to continue the rest of the story.

  Finally, ending with Alfie’s story of the disappearance of his friend, Jessup, Arc concluded her recitation and slumped back into her seat, drained of emotion and feeling exhaustion take her over.

  Kneeling in front of her, Ewan Quirke gently took both her hands in his and said, “Don’t worry, girl, I’m yer dad. Nothing is going to change that or change the way I feel about you.”

  “Me too!” Birdie piped up, laying her head on Arc’s shoulder. “We’re Quirkes now. A whole different species!”

  Arc leaned into Ewan Quirke’s shoulder for a good fifteen minutes, while clasping Birdie against her side. Eventually, a drained Arc drifted into a gentle doze. Putting a finger to his lips for Birdie, Quirke motioned for Tilson to help him. The mite-clone gently lifted his mistress and carried her from the room and back to her quarters aboard the Clyde.

  Under the watchful eye of Commander Quirke, Tilson removed all the weapons she had secreted about her person and gently drew a thin cover up over her now sleeping body. Silently, both men turned and left the room.

  As Arc slept the sleep of the emotionally drained, Ewan Quirke brought the entire Alliance up to date on the movements of the slaver circle. It had become clear from Arc’s account of events on Uzi that the main base for holding the slaves was not on that planet. It had to be somewhere out further and not on any frequented space route.

  Queen Altum Juls believed she knew one place that was a possibility and Sasha Kelty knew of a couple more locations where the Dreasing had once had camps for slaves.

  The crews would break up and search each of these locations. If any movement was observed, a watch would be instituted to discover who was using the possible bases.

  The Centurion would watch the asteroid complex Alcatraz. It was once a Vanguardian outpost for the re-homing of ‘flawed’ Vanguardians who didn’t live up to the strict guidelines for perfection their society held in reverence. An enormous snort of derision erupted from Birdie’s tiny body and surprised everyone into laughter.

  The asteroid had been repurposed by the Intergalactic Guard as a prison complex where they held highly dangerous alien prisoners. It was also the same prison complex where Queen Altum Juls had been held against her will to feed energy into the now dead Idolum traitor, General Shale, the murderer of Queen Altum Vis, the queen that Altum Juls had succeeded.

  The Labrys, under the command of General Savauge, would check out the other two asteroids where Sasha Kelty had discovered camps when she was still with the Intergalactic Guard.

  In those days she’d been seconded as a Specialized Security Officer to an exploratory mission funded by the Roux and Donji Corporations. One of those bases she’d pretty much destroyed with her ancestral energy magic. The other remained, as far as she knew, mostly intact.

  When Arc awakened, she dreaded facing the rest of the crew and their allies here on Renegar. Much to her relief, no one even bothered to mention her past to her. Only congratulations from Caja and Sasha on her excellent sleuthing skills were in evidence around the evening bonfire in the center of the covered cavern. Arc relaxed, realizing she was among friends and her real family now. Her birth family meant nothing to her or them.

  Over the cheery campfire, Arc learned that all of Commander Quirke’s brothers and families had been met on the asteroid base, Zabados 9, by Captain Kelty and her crew. The whole clan had passed muster with the ‘honor’ scan and were now in movement delivering different loads of cargo to expectant clients. Quirke was almost downright jolly over this turn of events.

  When her dad sat down next to her, Arc looked up with worry in her eyes. “Now don’t go givin’ me those worried looks, girl. All is well. I admire yer spunk in gettin’ away from those wolves as were yer birth clan. I knew you had the makings of a Quirke from almost the first moment I laid eyes on you. You’re one of us now. You’re my daughter. Ease yer mind over that,” he said with his characteristically taciturn speech.

  Arc nodded, then leaned her head on his shoulder. Birdie came and curled up at her knee. “What is our role now?” she asked Quirke after a few minutes. “Is it safe to start runs again with the Clyde?”

  “I don’t think so. That Idolum cruiser that went limping back to Uzi most likely had our ident codes and will have alerted the Evelsons about us. After talking it over, it seems the best course of action is to stay hidden until we can get this thing contained. Otherwise, we might lose the Clyde to a foe we can’t match even with all these fancy new cloaks and
cannons,” Quirke said regretfully. “I think most of us will be staying here or heading to Geboren.”

  “What do you mean, most of us?” Arc asked, a worried look in her eyes. It would be weird to be broken up now, after having formed such a tight bond with her family and crew.

  “Well, it turns out that since you speak Idolum now, you may have a very dangerous and important role to play in the coming days,” the Commander said quietly.

  “How good was the ident your Aunt had made for you when she smuggled you off Earth?” her father asked her gently.

  “As good as money could buy, I believe,” Arc said sadly. “Olivia knew she didn’t have much else to live for and had no intention of wasting money sending herself into space. She spent it all on the ident to get me out of there. If you showed you had any money at all, the ship owners would take you for everything you had, and you’d just end up an indentured servant. She didn’t want that for me. ‘Better to work for an honest wage,’ she said,” Arc whispered sadly. “So, I suspect it’s pretty damn good.”