Star Warrior

by Isaac Hooke

  “You can’t bring all that,” Dad said. “It’ll never fit aboard a transport ship. You know how small the compartments are!”

  “I’m sure our captain can find me a spare storage space,” Mom said, sniffing slightly.

  “No,” Dad said. “Whatever Julius is carrying stays behind.”

  “Uh-uh,” Mom said. “Some of my best dresses and perfumes are in those.”

  Tane glanced at Lyra, who simply raised an eyebrow.

  “Fine, then that one then,” Dad said, pointing at a big suitcase Mom was wheeling across the floor. “That stays!”

  “No!” Mom said. “It has heirlooms! Plus my coin collection. It’s—”

  “Been passed down your family for generations,” Dad finished for her. “Yes I know.”

  After some arguing, Mom finally transferred belongings back and forth between the suitcases until she was able to bring herself to part with some of the luggage.

  On the way out, Mom turned to Dad and said: “Wait, I forgot my anniversary rings! I can’t—”

  “Leave them!” Dad said, hurrying out the door.

  A speeder was already waiting for them outside the landing. Lyra had apparently chartered the entire shuttle, because according to the farm’s arrival log, the craft had been sitting there for about an hour.

  The passengers loaded up, the doors sealed, and the self-driving system flew off into the desert.

  During the flight, Lyra gave Tane and his parents a set of encryption keys in case any of them needed to communicate with her over the Galnet.

  “I thought all communications over the Galnet were encrypted already?” Tane asked.

  “Oh they are,” Lyra said. “But the tech companies have back doors in place for the government and law enforcement. If you want absolute privacy—which we do—you have to use your own encryption.”

  Some time later Tane found himself in a hotel room. Earlier there had been an argument between Mom and Dad over whether they should stay at a short term rental or a hotel, with Mom preferring the short termer because “the rooms are nicer,” but since Lyra was paying she sided with Dad and went with the hotel.

  Tane was hanging up some of his clothes in the provided rack. There was a small service bot supplied to the guests with each room to help with tasks like that, but Mom was using it to help with her baggage.

  While Mom was busy with the robot, Tane sat down beside Dad, who was resting on his bed.

  Dad was starting at the far wall, where Tane had placed the towel-wrapped energy launcher.

  “You should get rid of that soon.” Dad nodded toward the alien weapon.

  “Greg put me in touch with a weapons dealer in Runner’s Market,” Tane said. “He should be able to help me unload the thing.”

  “Runner’s Market,” Dad said, his expression turning sour. “You shouldn’t be going there. Someone might rob you of the weapon before you even reach this dealer. The dealer himself will probably rob you. It’s a seedy part of town.”

  “I’ve been to the market before,” Tane said. “Its reputation is undeserving. Sure, there are a couple of thieves dens, and maybe some of the shop owners employ a murderer or two, but as long as you go there during daylight hours, you’re completely safe.”

  Dad chuckled softly at that. “The overconfidence of the naive.”

  “Seriously, the place has really cleaned up in recent years,” Tane said. “The police raids have made a big difference. Anyway, I can’t just walk up to a reconstitution stall in the mall and hand over the weapon now, can I?”

  “No, I suppose not,” Dad said. “Not for something like that.”

  Tane stared at the veiled weapon, feeling a sudden surge of guilt. “Maybe I shouldn’t be selling it on the black market. Maybe I should give it up to the authorities. They might need to study it. See what we’re up against. There might be some technology in it we can reverse engineer. I could give it to Lyra.”

  Dad shrugged. “It’ll eventually make its way into the hands of the TSN no matter what you do, don’t you worry about that. Might as well make some creds on it in the meantime.”

  Tane sighed, then sat back in his chair. He studied his hands for a moment, then looked up.

  “What was that you said earlier about being in a war?” Tane asked.

  His father sighed deeply. “I knew one day I’d have to tell you. Yes, I was in a war. The war. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  “When was it fought?” Tane said. “I checked my chip, and also online. There’s nothing about any alien wars fought in recent times. And I never learned anything about a war in school.”

  “Your virtual teachers don’t teach it. The ruling council of Galtede Serpentis, under pressure from the TSN, decided to expunge the war from our history databases, and block all search results from the GalNet.”

  “But they can’t do that!” Tane said.

  “They can, and they did,” Dad said.

  “But that’s the same as lying about the past!” Tane said.

  “Maybe so, but to be honest, I actually prefer it that way.”

  “Why would the council, and the TSN, do this to our generation?” Tane said. “Hide the truth?”

  “Various reasons. Mostly it was out of shame, I think. What we did to the dwellers...” He trailed off, and his face darkened. “It wasn’t humanity’s proudest moment.”

  “My generation doesn’t need to be coddled,” Tane said.

  “Tell that to the government,” Dad said. “But in truth, you also don’t need to hate what you are. They didn’t want you growing up feeling that humanity was evil. I didn’t want that, either.”

  Tane thought for a moment. “I seem to remember demonstrations when I was a kid. Online, broadcast from other planets.”

  “Yes,” Dad said. “They were calling for the dismantling of the TSN.”

  “Why?”

  “This was before the majority of planets fell under the rule of the TSN. These planets hadn’t yet hidden the truth from their citizens. And every year, a new generation graduated, well aware of what the TSN did. And aware of how powerful the star navy was becoming.”

  “What happened?”

  “What do you think? Eventually all human worlds had to cede their sovereignty over to the TSN. We had no choice, not after what we had seen the navy do to the dwellers. The planets still have some autonomy, but we pay a huge chunk of taxes to the TSN, and let them draft our best men and women.”

  “When was the last time the TSN drafted from our world?” Tane asked.

  “Twelve years ago,” Dad said.

  Mom was done with the service bot, and sat down on the bed beside Dad to listen attentively.

  “The government can’t shut everyone up, of course,” Dad said. “Parents sometimes slip up, talk about the dwellers in front of their kids. Rumors spread. It’s how you and your friends learned about the dwellers in the first place. And why you thought they were a myth.”

  “So every planet under TSN rule keeps the truth hidden away like we do?” Tane said. “By actively blocking all searches related to the war?”

  “No, there are still a few that don’t,” Dad said. “There are no riots on any of those worlds, though. The TSN doesn’t allow them.”

  “Anteres really has a hundred battleships watching this Rift you mentioned?” Tane said. “There’s no radiation contamination? My chip is wrong?”

  “You will learn someday not to trust everything your chip tells you,” Dad said. “Nor even what your eyes and ears reveal to you. Perhaps especially not those.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten chipped,” Tane said.

  Dad pursed his lips. “The benefits outweigh the disadvantages, I think.”

  “What was your role in the war?” Tane asked.

  Dad lay down his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “Now that, son, is not something I’ll willing to talk about. Not to anyone. Not even you. I’m sorry.”

  “But why not?” Tane asked.

>   When Dad lifted his head to look at him, his eyes were moist. He only shook his head and lay back once more.

  “Sorry,” Tane said, looking away. He hated seeing his dad vulnerable like that. Hated it. Especially knowing that Tane himself was the cause.

  Mom rested a hand on Tane’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this to him. You’re the one who healed him, in fact. He and I both.”

  “You were in the war, too?” Tane asked.

  “No,” Mom said, smiling sadly. Her eyes seemed wet, too. “I stayed home. But every day that passed, knowing he might not return, was a living hell for me. I dreaded every communication notice I received. Every single one. I thought I’d be reading about his demise. Don’t you ever leave us to go to war. Don’t you do that to us.”

  “But there aren’t any wars to fight,” Tane said.

  “Not now,” Mom said. “But with the dwellers back, it won’t be long until the TSN sends out a draft call to all the planets under its domain. Mark my words, it’ll come.”

  “But if that’s true,” Tane said. “I’ll have to go to war. I’m of draft age. I won’t be able to avoid it…”

  Mom’s lower lip quivered and she blinked rapidly before turning away.

  And so I’ve gone and hurt her, too.

  6

  Tane made his way through the tightly packed stalls of the Runner’s Market. Vendors shouted his way, trying to attract his attention. Hawkers lifted up long cuts of meat, knock-off clothes, cheap selfie drones, AR goggles, you name it, whatever they thought he might be interested in.

  The digital augmentations were even worse. Though translucent as required by the 3rd Party Advertising Law, those augmentations got right in his face and crowded his vision: scantily clad girls flaunted games and apps; neon signs covered in bare breasts indicated flesh parlors in side alleyways; animated emoticons promised cheep booze and a wide assortment of drugs in upstairs apartments. Some of the augmentations even broke the translucent law: solid girls would pass right through the makeshift stands to accost him, and opaque signage floated in front of him, blotting out a significant portion of his vision.

  It got so bad that Tane had to turn off environmental interactions on his chip entirely, since nearly all of his visual real estate was being eaten up by some ad or another.

  He often had to squeeze past other patrons. Hands sometimes groped his person in the more crowded areas, and he kept the towel-wrapped bundle held tight to his body. He was glad he didn’t have anything in his pockets, and especially grateful he hadn’t come here with a backpack.

  Another reason why virtual belongings are better than physical… no one can steal them!

  He pulled his hood close, remembering what Lyra had told him before dropping off his family at the hotel room.

  “Stay in your room,” Lyra had said. “But if you must leave, be sure to obscure your face.” The implication was: hide from the city’s cameras and their facial recognition algorithms.

  Other than those cameras, there was no other way for the city’s security personnel to track him. Kalindor privacy laws outlawed spying on the packets produced by his connection to the city’s data feed; those packets were anonymized anyway by the wireless adhoc mixnet formed between the different AR goggles and chips of residents throughout the city. Then again, Tane had heard stories about workarounds that could trace those packets… all the more reason to make this quick.

  Shortly before coming to Runner’s Market he had decided to make a quick check-in with Headphone Jack. He wanted to confront the synthetic and see what kind of explanation it could come up with for why aliens suddenly had the hots for him, considering that they had decided to show up only two days after he got chipped. But Jack had all too conveniently closed up shop. It seemed obvious to Tane that the synthetic was involved somehow. He’d given Jack’s retail address to Lyra earlier: hopefully she’d be able to track down the synthetic for him.

  Using the overhead map, Tane made his way through the crowded square until he reached the coordinates he was looking for.

  There, a man sat hunched behind a table that overflowed with miscellaneous hardware, most of it in various states of disrepair: busted robot heads, partially crushed circuit boards, cracked shuttle electroactuators, and so forth. The man had cleared a small area near the center of the table to serve as his work area, and a small drone currently had the honor of his attention. He poked at the electronics with a tiny metal probe.

  Earlier, Tane had searched for reviews on the tiny shop via the Galnet. The place didn’t have a name, so Tane had looked up the coordinates on his map. Nothing was listed. No stalls, no reviews. Usually a lack of reviews was a bad sign, but given the transient nature of most stalls in the Runner’s Market it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Then again, a lot of the shadier purveyors purposely didn’t name their stalls to avoid any negative reviews.

  Tane had done a search on the seller’s alias as well, but again got nothing.

  “Are you Roadroller?” Tane asked.

  The man didn’t look up, continuing his probing.

  “I have something to sell,” Tane said. “A weapon.”

  The man finally glanced at Tane. His face was vaguely simian. He wore a pilot’s leather cap and a pair of telescopic AR goggles that seemed to be permanently attached to his head. Those long lenses exaggerated the size of his eyes almost comically, but the sly, shady cast to them certainly dispelled any notions of humor Tane might have felt.

  “You Greg’s friend?” the shady man asked.

  “How’d you guess?” Tane replied.

  “Easy, you look like a loser,” Roadroller said.

  Tane frowned. You should talk, Bug Eyes.

  Roadroller nodded toward the bundle Tane carried. “So what do you got for me?”

  Tane slid the heavy bundle onto the table, crushing a portion of the electronics.

  “Careful!” Roadroller said. “What do you think this is, a dump?”

  Yes.

  Roadroller glanced both ways as if worried someone was watching the transaction, then he accepted the bundle. He set the large item down in his lap behind the table and unwrapped the towel. He looked up suddenly: his exaggerated eyes were very wide behind those lenses.

  “Where did you get this?” Roadroller hissed.

  “Found it in a dumpster,” Tane lied.

  Roadroller leaned forward in his chair and looked both ways again before sitting back. “I could get in a lot of trouble for dealing in this. Sorry, can’t help you.”

  Roadroller wrapped up the bundle and slid the long object back onto the table. He crushed some of the junk on top in the process, but didn’t comment this time.

  “Fine.” Tane grabbed the bundle, but Roadroller’s hand darted forward in a blur, far faster than Tane could react, and caught his wrist in a vise-like grip.

  “Actually, changed my mind,” Roadroller said.

  “Really…” Tane said. “You sure you weren’t trying to make me lower my asking price by saying that?”

  “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Listen, for a fellow grease monkey, I’ll make you a deal.”

  “How did you know I’m a grease monkey?” Tane asked.

  “I got skillz,” the shady man said. The “z” in skillz was audible. “Look at you. Mechanics. Level 1.”

  “You’re just guessing,” Tane said.

  “Am I?”

  “Then how do you know?” Tane pressed.

  “Let’s just say, all the information you can read on your skill screens, I can, too. There are certain hacks and workarounds.”

  Tane glanced at the man’s hand, which still gripped his wrist. “Like installing a reader into your fingers?”

  Roadroller removed his hand and sat back, crossing his arms and grinning. “Two thousand.”

  “Two thousand?”

  “I’ll give you two thousand creds,” Roadroller said.

  “Forget it.” Tane jerked the bundle off the table and turned to go.
r />   “Wait!” Roadroller said. “Three thousand.”

  Tane started to walk away.

  “Five!” Roadroller shouted to his back.

  Tane paused, then turned around. “Ten thousand,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Seven,” Roadroller said. “No more.”

  “It’s worth more than that.”

  “Take it or leave it,” Roadroller said. “I somehow doubt you’ll find any takers who’ll offer as much as me among this sorry lot.”

  Tane hesitated.

  “Tell you what,” Roadroller continued. “I’ll give you either seven thousand creds, or two nanotech injections. Take your pick.”

  The two nanotech injections were a much better deal than the seven thousand credits, since Tane wouldn’t even be able to buy one legitimate injection to increase his attributes at that price. But he suspected there was a catch: these micro machines were likely clones of official Reconstruct Systems product, dumped to the unregulated black market by the nanotech drug lords.

  Tane almost agreed to the injections, but thought of all the damage to the farm caused by the aliens, and the sand. Rather than selfishly exchanging the weapon for augmentations, it was probably better to accept the money so he could put it toward the farm.

  “Just a second, I need to talk to someone,” Tane said.

  “Take as long as you need,” Roadroller replied.

  Tane carried the bundle to a quiet area between two stalls and then made a call. In moments Dad’s translucent head appeared in front of him.

  “So did you sell it yet?” Dad asked.

  “No,” Tane said. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve got an offer for seven thousand credits. What do you think?”

  Dad nodded. “Seems like the best price we can expect, given the nature of the item.” He was careful not to use the word weapon, Tane noted. That showed him how much his dad trusted the “encrypted” network.

  “Okay then,” Tane said. “I need approval to access your account.”

  “Mine?” Dad said.

  “Yes, I want to deposit the creds into your account.”

  “No, son,” Dad said. “You worked hard to acquire that item. The proceeds from the sale are yours alone.”