Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy

by Gregory Faccone

  Her eyes were strange. Deepest black irises with some sort of reflectivity mod. He found himself staring at them.

  “Frulieste. I see.”

  “I will go to the bridge now,” Zoraida said.

  She began walking toward the hatch without any further communication from him.

  Does she know her way around a Thunar?

  “Doesn't the shuttle need to return? Shade Momentum is very particular about them.”

  “We have an arrangement. This automated crew is on loan for my personal use.”

  He'd never heard of such a thing. These ships were Shade Momentum's revenue source.

  “Yes, of course.”

  As she stepped ahead his eyes bulged. Her lace top only covered the front. Stretched across the umber canvas of her back was a polychromatic tattoo. Color and light pulsed through the depiction of a buxom woman in ancient ceremonial dress. But the face was that of a lion, adorned with a golden headdress.

  He stumbled.

  “She's called Sekhmet,” Zoraida said without turning. “The powerful one. At home in the desert and warrior to the pharaohs.”

  He gathered his stride, not sure what to say or do.

  “Would you like an escort to the bridge?”

  “I know the way. Don't worry, I will speak to Arceneaux and these Wilkrests soon enough. In the meantime, perhaps you could enlighten me, Darren Starr, about your heroic involvement at Windermere.” She looked back, light shining off her eyes. “Especially about your dangerous fracas at High Castle.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  JANUS STABILIZES A

  BANKING CONFEDERATION WORLD

  ON THE CUSP OF CHANGE

  Aventicia, Banking Confederation

  Keats Keating

  Confederated Comm staff writer. 315/2615

  The Prime Orator is making a full recovery after being wounded protecting Aventicia, a Banking Confederation world not even Perigeum. Certainly this exemplifies the qualities of a man who has led our family of worlds for 12 years. With the retreat of the Svalbergen Blacksea Corporation, Aventicia has requested no additional Perigeum Starmada presence within their space. “My successor will have his hands full with fleet deployments.” Janus's statement reads. “So I will strive to leave him with a stable and prosperous trading partner.”

  Orator Parium of Siobahn, himself a candidate to be the next Prime Orator, made an unusual virtual speech in the House of Orators. “I fully support the Prime Orator's desire to protect the fledgling reform movement happening here at Aventicia.” Rumors about misallocated defense funds reportedly have Janus concerned. Certainly Aventicia Defense's vaunted galleon fleet was a non-factor in the recent time of crisis due to a massive software glitch. Parium believes Janus will relocate to the financial hub when his term ends, applying his experience toward long term fair trade.

  With Aventicia's Governing Board besieged by underground subversives, Janus has offered to step in as acting CEO until they are brought to justice. Confederated Comm's investigation of this so-called “Shadow Board” has thus far revealed little. Many believe they are the real source of current destabilization, including currency manipulation and even galleon base sabotage. Whether Janus decides to stay or not, the banking world could do no better for their CEO than the man who has lead the Perigeum though years of growth while maintaining true peace.

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  It's about time he focused on the business at hand and not exaggerated tales of a harrowing escape pod ordeal. Keating doesn't realize how much the incident increased his credibility.

  Idiot shill.

  And unlike his predecessor, that Parchment woman, he survived.

  Janus shook a head illuminated only by VADs.

  None of them spun a tale like old Gaston Canterbury. That guy was believable.

  Maybe it was the teeth.

  It's too bad he had to take the fall.

  “Leisal, find the latest on Gaston—” Janus turned. The room was empty. He sub-whispered a command. A new schematic VAD appeared with a flashing dot. “Fabrication? What's that moron doing there?”

  “Spatial alignment ready,” the ship AI said. “Initiating line-of-sight, tight-beam comm as ordered.” A new VAD appeared before him. On it a complex three-dimensional shape sprouted alpha-numerics at every vertex. “Ultra encryption accepted.”

  A man appeared with a subtly patterned suit, a pale business collar, and equally bland expression.

  “How are your wounds coming along, Prime Orator?” Vizier Kartoosh asked.

  “I liquidated most of my reelection fund for that farce.”

  “Your farce carried more than enough veracity. Many bodies were found in the First Cruiser's debris.”

  Janus remained impassive. “The sacrifice of provincial types was necessary for a greater purpose.”

  The second and a half delay was necessary for tight-beam and ultra encryption. It ruled out using a fusebox for real-time, but he found the imposed wait helpful for sorting through this crafty man's layered meanings.

  Vizier's eyes offered blasé acceptance of the sacrifices. The man was more callous than Janus thought, or a sociopath.

  “No doubt the rest of your fund,” Vizier said, “is being expended at that private yard up there, and in keeping lips sealed.”

  The man was as dangerous as Braksaw. Each hid their true nature under a guise.

  “I've got the local situation in hand. And I can control Perigeum response. You just worry about your end.”

  “Yes, of course. However keeping the independent worlds from losing faith in the Banking Confederation...”

  Janus narrowed his eyes. “The Confederation as a whole is only in danger by association. It's Aventicia alone that let corruption swallow it. They deserve to be wiped from the financial grid. In the end they'll thank me for saving them from obscurity and the wrath of the other banking worlds.”

  “It may be a rough transition.”

  The Consortium vulture had a way of pinpointing any plan's weakness.

  “I will ensure any transition induced crisis is covered by the Perigeum treasury.”

  “Which is empty.”

  Janus used the second and a half delay to keep a sudden spike of anger in check. It's too bad he needed this snake.

  “There's enough virtual coin to keep balances where they're supposed to be before anyone's the wiser.” Janus did his best to put on a non-evil smile. “Traders should see it merely as a change of management, not function. Habit will take care of the rest. Just continue to stoke the fires of the Shadow Board.”

  “To that end I've been successful.” Vizier did choose an evil smile. “Current board members, not already aligned with us, are indeed jumping at shadows. Even to the point of looking favorably upon you as interim CEO. However, my friends in the Trade Union are growing concerned about the coming Banking Confederation response.”

  “Trade Union? Really, Vizier. I think all of inhabited space recognizes a Law and Commerce Fleet when they see one.”

  “Then you realize what a great investment that flotilla represents. Certain stakeholders are watchful of it and would greatly prefer to avoid unnecessary conflict.”

  “Certain stakeholders might have to get their hands dirty.”

  Vizier seemed to blanch at that prospect. Janus allowed an evil grin then, for he had finally wrested the advantage. He'd made a deal with the devil joining forces with the Consortium. But apparently the Consortium had made their own deal with the devil.

  With a sub whispered command and a flick of his eyes a buried VAD moved to the surface beside Vizier. The Trade Union's carrier description and markings matched one that fought and was damaged during the Sojourners' Crusade. A massive, ringed museum piece—painstakingly restored. So unless the Sojourners had returned without him knowing, only the secretive Artisans could perform such a feat. Even his Archivers had yet to achieve that kind of mystic mastery.

  Squirm, little man. Squirm.

  He didn't know m
uch about the eccentric Artisans. They went to great lengths to stay off his scanners, knowing he would atomize them given half a chance. Or worse, destroy one of their precious mystic caches. They were a ruthless underground organization. Judging from Vizier's reaction, one that even the Consortium preferred not to provoke. Who knows what it had cost to get that carrier here.

  Eccentrics and mystic. I hate that X factor.

  “You know the Banking Confederation force will reign in their rogue brother,” Vizier responded, “and empower a new regime of their choosing. You need to be legally ensconced before then.”

  “I plan to be.”

  Janus cut the connection and brought up another VAD to clean his mental palette. It showed a recording of a beautiful woman playing the pianochord. The visuals had telltale signs of being recorded through a micro cam-eye, and through crystal.

  He'd seen the instrument played at a number of state functions. But never like this. Her husband did not deserve such a creature. The Wilkrest's were appearing too often in reports. It was no longer coincidence that they showed up at engagements where the Perigeum was deflected. They'd even somehow managed to thwart two Hektors. There was more to them than met the eye.

  Perhaps someday soon, after his new plans came to fruition, he would have the resources and time to address the entire clan.

  Except for the woman of course.

  A ping preceded the hatch to his private quarters opening. Leisel walked in, but her form began to change without request the instant the hatch closed. Her stature grew taller, her form less buxom. The large roll at the base of her blond hair fell straight before growing auburn and twisting into braids. By the time she neared Janus her entire outfit had also changed.

  She strode up to him with the familiarity of a human wife. Society had long since erected barriers for AIs and androids. In a flash she'd moved past them. It made him decidedly uncomfortable.

  Something sparkled in her hand. She affixed it to her jacket. The leaf-shaped pin glittered with pale blue and brown gemstones.

  “Do you like it? I fashioned it after hers,” Sytorra said, nodding at the VAD of the beautiful woman. “I can learn to play the pianochord as well.” She shut the VAD down.

  Disgust welled up in him. What kind of relationship did this misguided machine think they had?

  “You only resemble that which I find pleasing!” Why was he trying to explain it to a machine? “Executive override primus.” The android's eyes lost their character and grew glassy. It stood as still as a statue. “Return to your chamber and shut down.”

  As it moved across his quarters, the metallic coffin in which it was delivered lit up and opened. The android's stature returned to that of unmodified Leisal, and its clothes to a default white bodysuit. The door closed as it lay back, and cooling mist filled the interior.

  “Comm Dysig. Same protocol as last.”

  In a few seconds the pale bitsmith appeared. There was no delay.

  “What's with all the encryption?”

  “It's to remind you of the delicacy of our endeavors.”

  Janus offered a dangerous smile but the bitsmith was too technically engrossed to receive the threat.

  “It must take half the output of your ship AI, unless you're using Leisel.” Dysig glanced to the side. “And I see that you're not.”

  Janus could only shake his head. “Yes, about that. Your dumb-as-ingots creation is spiraling out of orbit. Probably harbors delusions that we're moving to Chryson Genos together.”

  That got the bitsmith's attention. Looking to the side, his eyes darted and scanned. Lips pursing, his entire expression soured as understanding dawned.

  “I see… Yes, there may be a slight problem. Nothing I can't figure a way around, of course.”

  “I recall you boasting about being able to simulate true to life responses like no one ever has.”

  The bitsmith's eyes continued scanning. “Because no one's ever tried this kind of open architecture in an android. It could get me banned for life from the dinosaur bitmaster houses. They wouldn't understand innovation if I read it to them line by line.”

  “Unless your vision includes emotional instability, it's more true than necessary.”

  “I can stay in front of AI psychosis with frequent adjustment. Once I get it through a full cycle it should stabilize.”

  “I don't want you doing anything that will jeopardize our primary operation.” Janus felt the need to spell it out for this link-head. “That would be unfortunate for me, and very bad for you.”

  Dysig finally looked away from what was engrossing him, and had the good sense to swallow hard. “I see. Well, perhaps for now, we should lock her in Leisal mode. As to the primary operation, our second phase is nearly ready. As long as your transceiver remains in place, the entire base will be no more than a giant rock.”

  Janus wanted maximum preparedness for the response he knew was soon to come.

  “Nearly ready is still not ready.”

  “I'm building in a lot of safeguards.” Dysig's eyes lit up at his own innovations. “And doing it around a modified commercial AI. It's slaved to do one thing, the mission.”

  A new flashing indicator appeared before Janus. “It better. Out.”

  “The final piece has arrived,” the ship AI said.

  He stood. “Show me.” His heart beat a little faster. “Full size. 3D.”

  A deck to ceiling representation of space materialized around him. Coming up from Aventicia was the starboard hull of the First Cruiser. Even by itself it was magnificent, its tonnage on par with the cruiser class. Four tugs guided the bulk while work pods along its surface flashed warning lights. He watched its progress up past his captain's yacht. The vista above was filled with imposing, scarlet Granamar.

  Its self illuminated yellow bands cast light on an asteroid converted into a staryard. Rock and scaffolding flashed. Amid a flurry of activity the stiletto central fuselage of the First Cruiser stabbed outward. Surrounding it were huge chunks of ship.

  Janus watched the tugs bring the starboard hull into the controlled chaos. He bared his teeth with a predator's smile.

  Chapter Twenty

  An expanding, chromatic ring blossomed in normal space. It faded to reveal a Thunar class cruiser from Frulieste. Eleven similar phenomena of varying sizes cascaded behind it. A few seconds later, twelve more lit space to their rear.

  In all, twenty-four ships arrived at Granamar's hill bottom. Two squadrons. Their formations were sloppy, especially when compared to the Perigeum Starmada, the Svalbergen Blacksea Corporation, or any single sovereignty's forces. They were a combined fleet. But even by those more generous standards, as exemplified by the Vallum Corps, the new arrivals were slipshod.

  In the second squadron, among the two-ship Demeter contingent was an old, mystic corvette. It was the only corvette in the entire Banking Confederation response force. It might have been politely waved off in other circumstances, but Demeter's cachet was on the rise since their participation during the Incursion at Windermere. If they really wanted their corvette included, who was going to tell them otherwise? And the Banking Confederation was looking for all the help it could get. Without a heavy starkeel fleet, it couldn't afford to be choosy.

  Close detensor inspection of the old corvette would show that it massed far greater then what a ship of its class should. But old mystic ships were not uniform, and often off the norm. A young man who was learning how far off the norm walked the corridors of the camouflaged ship.

  “These corridors would pass cursory inspection.” Jordahk was amazed at Aurora's success in obfuscating the exquisite workmanship that had gone into every aspect of her construction. “The bay too.”

  The curved metal bulkhead work seemed swallowed by walls too close. It normally sported fine swirls of gold, silver, and other platinum group metals but now looked plain and dull. The ceramic decking and rails were made to appear mundane, and the wondrous crystal ceiling which displayed space beyond was opaqued
to look like textured surfacing.

  “Even the bridge.” Aurora, the AI of the versatile ship that bore her name, seemed displeased about it. “On the interior side I'm limited to those main areas.”

  “I know Aurora, you want to spread you wings. You were forged to blaze across the stars.”

  “That sounds like what he once said to me.”

  “Who, Aristahl?”

  Aurora paused. “No, not Arh-Tahl, he who touched me at creation.”

  Was she being dramatic? He didn't think so. And perhaps, when it came to Thule-Riss Quext, the he undoubtedly being referred to, “dramatic” was appropriate.

  Five legendary Khromas, and five very special ships of the Hesperus class. Each touched by one of them. Each unique, and far, far more powerful than their tonnage. Jordahk didn't even know what to make of some of the Hesperus Aurora's special features.

  She had two starkeels, both strange. The main, which ran the length of the ship, was octagonal instead of rectangular. And it was thicker too. The second, labeled a cross keel, spanned the midsection of the ship like a platinum group belt from port to starboard. At his current level of mystic understanding, what Thule-Riss might draw out of this ship was unfathomable.

  But the Aurora was a long way from 100%. They'd worked hard to repair quite a lot en route. Many conventional parts, installed for temporary functionality at Beuker and before, were meant to be mystic and replaced. With Pops's tutelage, Jordahk was getting better at forge work. But the Aurora required a mystic staryard to be brought up to the level of her original design.

  Yeah, I have one of those in my bag.

  He and Pops went into juvi sleep for the second part of the journey to ensure full recovery from their work. He did feel good. That meant his ability to pull rejuvenating qualities out of juvi were improving too.

  Stepping on a stair plat, he was whisked to the command level. The complex hatch opened to a bridge that, even configured to look less amazing, was still a well-designed sight. Three crew seats up front were backed by two raised officer seats. He and Khai had sat in those at Windermere, but morose thoughts would not win this day, and he pushed on. Elevated aft of them was the captain's station.