Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10)
Page 6
For a change, Sato didn’t complain. Instead he carefully detailed each piece of equipment Rick would need to retrieve, where it was stored, then gave him a key sequence to enter into the smuggling module’s integrated computer.
“The code will initiate a scrubbing sequence,” Sato told him. “Fifteen minutes after you enter it, the computer will burn itself out, destroying all data stored there and purging all systems, including releasing low level plasma, which will remove any biological evidence. When the port bots eventually find it and investigate, it will clearly be a smuggling module, but they’ll have no way of knowing what was inside, or who moved it there.”
“Pretty slick,” Rick noted.
“Should be; I designed it.”
They found a place for Sato to wait a short distance from the docking area. It was a tiny space with programmable life support intended as a location for aliens to be in a safe environment. For five credits, Sato had an hour in a safe place where nobody could observe him.
“You have the compact laser pistol?” Rick asked. Sato nodded and patted the holstered weapon under his uniform jacket. “Good. You won’t need it, but better safe than sorry.”
“Roger that,” Sato agreed. “See you in a few minutes.”
Rick closed the door on the isolation module, gave the area a final sweep with his sensors to be sure nobody was skulking nearby, then floated toward the cargo docks.
A bored Lumar was manning the security check station. When Rick came up, the alien held out a hand, and Rick passed him his fraudulent Yack. The Lumar stuffed it into a slate, which beeped, and he handed it back. “Next.” Rick passed into the cargo area.
He shook his head as he floated down the corridor, retracing the path from when they’d first arrived. He passed a few aliens going about their business. Some looked at him curiously; most just ignored him. There were more than a hundred roughly Human-shaped aliens in the Galactic Union. Covered by the robes he’d found lying in an alley on their first day, there was scarce evidence to suggest he was an actual Human. Of course, he did nothing to dissuade them from the idea.
As soon as he reached the warehouse where their module was stored, he immediately entered and quickly located it.
Sato stopped talking, and Rick entered the code on the hidden lock. It immediately released and slid open. As soon as he had his head inside, Rick knew something was wrong. Bits and pieces of equipment floated out, and his sensors picked up ozone. He activated one of his arm lasers and held the safety.
“Whoever you are, don’t move,” he said, his voice amplified by the armor’s external speakers. Instead of a voice, a wash of strange colors flowed from roughly the center. They were both pleasing, and familiar. “Nemo?”
Rick used one of his low-power arm lasers as illumination, bathing the container interior with pure light. The creature looked just like Nemo, only about 1/8th the size. It was using multiple arms to take apart one of Sato’s apparatus, and a big blob of water undulated in the microgravity, leading to a now open case in the farthest corner of the module. One of its big blue eyes regarded him.
“You’re not Nemo,” Rick said. “Who are you?”
This time he was looking directly at the Wrogul as it flashed complicated patterns of light in its language. His pinplants’ translator rendered it into English.
“I was Nemo. I am Nemo’s bud. Hello, Rick, where is Sato?”
Rick sighed as the Wrogul let out a spurt of water and sailed across the module to land on his shoulder. Once there, it gave off gorgeous blueish-green scintillating light rays, which his translator said was ‘happy humming.’ Rick checked his database, and saw that the Wrogul reproduced via budding, and that the ‘new Wrogul’ was born with all the memories of those before them. Eventually the bud would generate its own name, and its personality would diverge.
Rick sighed.
* * * * *
Chapter Four
Stuffing the—what, baby?—Wrogul into a case big enough to both hold it and the water inside proved difficult. Sato was struck speechless by the development, something that seemed to be a rare occurrence with the scientist. So he was of no help. Rick insisted Sato stay put, and he’d handle the issue himself.
The baby was happy to hang onto Rick’s shoulder and watch as he gathered all the gear Sato had asked for. Naturally, one of the items, a complex and portable materials analyzer, had been disassembled by the baby. He left the remains. Once he had a duffel full of the remaining gear, he turned his full attention to the new member of their team.
“You need water to breathe, right?” A little section of his armor was capable of both thermal and optical emission, so he would be able to communicate with nearly every race in the Union. It was a good thing, too, or he’d only be able to listen to the baby Wrogul, and not reply.
“Yes,” was the simple reply.
“But you’re not in water now?”
“Correct.”
Rick sighed. Nemo was, if anything, garrulous compared to the new version. It reminded him of talking with a Jeha. “How are you breathing, and how long can you be out of water?”
“I hold highly oxygenated water in my mantle; it acts as a reserve for breathing. Depending on the type of water, an hour is possible. My skin can last longer if I am able to prepare. As I mature, the time will diminish due to the increased surface area of my skin.”
“Oh,” Rick said. There were painfully few details on the Wrogul in the GalNet. In fact, they seemed to have only one colony; Azure, which they shared with Humans, just as Sato had said. Interesting.
Rick examined the case the baby had traveled in. It was pretty simple, with its own power supply and everything. It appeared to be scratch built, and probably was. To think the little bugger had ridden with them all the way from New Warsaw, and they hadn’t even had a clue. Sato was a perfect example of the absent-minded professor. You’d think he’d spot something the size of a miniature refrigerator in the module, especially if he hadn’t put it in there himself!
“Does that still work?” he asked the baby, pointing at the module it had stowed away inside.
“Yes. As long as there is an atmosphere outside, it can operate for years. Though it will run out of power and food for me within six months.”
“Good enough, would you get back inside?”
“Why?”
Rick sighed again, a quickly developing habit. “Because we need to meet Sato, and having a Wrogul on my shoulder might draw unwanted attention.” It regarded him with big blue eyes. “Please get in?”
“Oh, sure.” With another phuuuut of expelled air, the baby flew over to and into the container. Then, amazingly, it seemed to vacuum up the water it had expelled back inside, then the door closed.
“Okay, then,” Rick said, and investigated how to release the container. It turned out to be held in place by a pair of plastic zip ties. He easily cut them and maneuvered the baby’s container out. It wasn’t very big, but with a huge duffel bag and shepherding a mini-fridge, he was considerably more out of place.
When he reached the exit, the Lumar who’d checked his counterfeit Yack looked up from his slate, then did a double take. “Hey, you authorized to take stuff?”
“Sure,” Rick said. “Just retrieving this for Wathayat.”
“Oh, you work Wathayat? They big money syndicate. You like?”
“Yeah, it’s a good job.”
“Maybe you mention me?” The Lumar took out his own Yack, touched it to his slate, and pointed the device at Rick.
Rick held out an armored hand, palm down, and it flashed green. The Lumar looked even more amazed.
“Built in slate? How that work?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Oh, sure. Kooba keep
secrets real good.” He crossed all four arms and winked at Rick in the most over-exaggerated way possible. Rick couldn’t wink back, so he just nodded and pushed away down the hall. The Lumar watched him for a time, then went back to his slate.
“They just aren’t very smart,” he mumbled to himself.
Rick took the case and duffel to the ship they’d hired, then retrieved Sato, whom he found in the privacy chamber, floating in lotus position, eyes closed. “Mr. Sato?”
Sato’s eyes opened. They were so dilated it looked like he didn’t have irises. Rick moved back fractionally, completely caught off guard.
* * *
“It’s stupid keeping me in this thing,” Sato growled, annoyed at being treated like a liability. If it hadn’t been for him, Rick would be one of a dozen samples in a jar back in Nemo’s lab. Yeah, sure, Rick’s life had been irrevocably changed. Death had a way of doing that. He wasn’t what he’d been—he was much, much more. A fucking juggernaut. And he treats me like a helpless child.
He floated and used his pinplants, accessing the GalNet to gather as much intel on Earth as possible. The Athal had a point; going to Earth seemed like a bad decision. Only…something in him insisted they go. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch. A compulsion he couldn’t ignore.
Rick gave a little halfhearted laugh.
Son of a bitch! Sato silently cursed. Nemo had never budded in all the years they’d known each other. Why now? Because Sato had been leaving, and the damned Wrogul knew what it was doing! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Rick was asking for guidance, but Sato had none to offer. After a minute, Rick stopped talking, and Sato was left alone, fuming. His mind was a hurricane of thoughts and angles. I need to calm down, he thought, then reached out and turned off the light, plunging himself into absolute, all-consuming darkness.
It didn’t work. If anything, his thoughts spun even faster. After a second, he gasped and reached for the switch. It was utterly dark, and he was now spinning. He had no idea where the switch was. No, he whimpered, and felt himself falling into a black hole of thoughts and memories, plunging past the event horizon.
He fell though levels of hell, feeling like Dante. He was a starship departing as he screamed and reached out, as if he could stop it.
He held a woman in his arms, vainly attempting to stop the flow of bright red arterial blood from a gaping chest wound. “Ichika, no!” he screamed over and over.
“Do your duty, Proctor.” He looked down at the detonator in his hand. Slowly his thumb pushed down on the button until it went click, while tears poured from his eyes.
He was being escorted into a medical lab with a single chair. A mobile water tank rolled into view, flashing pleasing lights. “Hello, I am Nemo, and I will be taking care of you.”
“You disappoint me,” a voice echoed from all around him. He struggled against the restraints, with no success. Metallic probes came out of the chair and connected to his pinplants. “Now learn the price of failure.” His being exploded in unimaginable agony, shattering his self into a million parts.
“No,” Sato gasped, fighting it.
He was lying in a gutter, covered in filth, as rain pelted his face. It was all he could do to breathe and remember his name. Taiki Sato. It was all he had. A mechanical whirring made him turn his head to see a big, startling blue eye looking at him. The eye was attached to an aquatic species with tentacles. What are they called? The being floated inside a fish tank on treads. It blinked once, and robotic manipulators reached for him. Sato had no ability to resist.
Slowly, from deep in his psyche, Sato found his center, and his mind slowed. A million images still collided and swirled in his brain, but ever so slowly he began to regain his center.
A new, yet familiar, voice echoed deep into his consciousness, and Sato opened his eyes. Rick floated a meter outside the chamber, staring at him with glowing blue eyes. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Fine,” Sato replied, his voice raspy. Had he been screaming? The memories were already fading, like dreams come the dawn. He looked past Rick to the case floating just behind him. “Is that the bud?”
“Yes,” Rick said, shaking his head. “The bugger is friendly, at least.”
“It should be identical to Nemo, at least for a while.” Sato checked his pinplants’ clock. “We better get moving.”
A short time later, the two arrived at the docks. It didn’t require long to find their specific ship, even though there were currently 14 free traders docked, either looking for work or transferring goods. The ship they were looking for was Tu-Plik, a free trader licensed through the Wathayat Syndicate. As they floated down the increasingly crowded companionway, an Athal wearing an equipment harness at the ship’s access hatch turned to regard them with compound eyes.
“You are the passengers Captain Ullp mentioned?”
“Yes,” Rick said.
“Yack?” the guard asked.
“Cash,” he replied and let five 10,000 credit chits float from his hand. You couldn’t see exactly where a fly was looking, because of the design of their eyes, but a hand reached out and deftly scooped the five chits from the air.
“Welcome aboard Tu-Plik,” the Athal said.
* * *
It was the second trip Rick had taken on a free trader, though the first on an alien version. When he first left Earth, he’d signed on Coronado under Captain Holland. The ship was one of the very first ever made by Humans, a Comal-class tramp freighter. Really just a free trader, but Humans always had to do things their own way, so they called it a tramp freighter.
Coronado, as the first Human designed and built starship, had reminded Rick of a poorly assembled kid’s toy. It didn’t quite look right. Later classes were better, of course. However, despite improvements, ultimately all the Human ship manufacturers went out of business, leaving customers to buy alien made ships. Tu-Plik showed why.
The ship was smoothly manufactured, efficient, and worked perfectly. Despite being the size of a small cruiser, it had a crew of only 23, including the captain and his mate. Coronado had nearly the same size crew for a ship maybe half the size.
They were given a single stateroom measuring 3 by 5 by 10 meters. About 150 cubic meters in size seemed like a lot until you factored in sleeping space, eating space, zero-gravity restroom, and a universal, programmable autochef.
“What a dump,” Sato said, looking around and frowning. “200,000 credits for a dumpster.”
“I’ve been in worse,” Rick said, glancing back at the hatch. Luckily, the crewfly had left before Sato had started spouting off about their ship.
“Did you pay almost a quarter of a million credits for it?” Sato asked mulishly.
“No, it only cost me part of my brain.”
Sato turned and looked at him, his sneer slowly changing to a frown. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be callous.”
“No problem, sir. Just try to remember we’re both here.”
“I’ll try,” Sato said, and he seemed genuine. “Let’s get our little companion’s home in place somewhere out of the way, shall we?”
They found a blank section of hull with a power receptacle. It took Sato less than a minute to configure a plug, examine and understand the system on the aquatic support module, and integrate it into the ship’s power. “It’s got its own hybrid cell, which is why I never noticed a power draw on our module,” he explained. “Should still work if the ship loses power.”
Rick nodded as Sato worked. No sooner was it plugged in and locked to the wall than the door popped open. Water spurted out, making Sato push back in surprise.
“Was that normal?” he asked Rick.
“I wasn’t there when it opened,” Rick explained.
A tiny little light display rode
the water out as the jet slowed to a stop. Tentacles waved about, and vivid blue eyes took in the new surroundings. Again Rick’s translator caught the colorful flashes and translated them into English for him.
“Sato! How are you?”
Sato took a second to adjust his own translator, which was a pendant he wore attached to his now unitless black coveralls. “I’m fine,” he replied. “Why didn’t Nemo tell me about you?”
The miniature Wrogul oscillated colors in rolling groups, almost like the scales of music. Rick’s translator rendered it as a kind of shrug. “Are you surprised?”
“I could wake up with my head nailed to the bulkhead and not be more surprised,” Sato grumbled. “You’ve never budded before, right?”
“Correct.”
“Then why did you wait so many years?”
The bud let out a phut of expelled air and sailed over to the stateroom’s autochef. Rick moved to the side, taking a handhold to observe as Sato followed the little Wrogul.
“Nemo?” Sato persisted.
“I’m not Nemo,” the bud replied, pulsating green and yellow as it examined the autochef.
“Then what is your name?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” An eye looked at Sato. “You named me originally.”
“What?” Sato asked, caught off guard. “I…I don’t remember…”
As Rick watched, once again Sato’s eyes seemed to drift out of focus. He was left with little doubt that Sato had a problem. A bad one. What could he do about it now on an alien starship? However, the next stop was Earth. Slowly, as Sato tried in vain to coax more information out of the young version of Nemo, Rick began to formulate a plan for when they got to Earth.
* * * * *
Chapter Five
Tu-Plik undocked from Karma Station two hours after Rick and Sato boarded. Departure took as long as the wait to depart owing to the station’s busy schedule around the docking bays. Station computers controlled ships while they were flying in and out of the central hub. Some things were just too dangerous to trust to a biological pilot.