Starcrasher (Shades Space Opera Book 1)

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Starcrasher (Shades Space Opera Book 1) Page 10

by Rock Forsberg


  By Evie’s side, Bells stared at the view, mesmerised. She held her breath to the point that her face started turning red. Evie tugged her on the shoulder and she took in a deep breath like she had just surfaced from water.

  Then the twirling streaks of colours slowed down, the stars settled in place, and everything started to fade back to black. In a moment the view was back to normal.

  Bells blew out and looked around. ‘That was something. Where are we?’

  Eddie pointed at the navigation interface. ‘Look to the right. See that star? That’s Vegasos. We’ll dock in Five Ways in an hour.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE ROTATING SPACE station was first named the Centurion, but because of the five-spoke design, everyone started calling it Five Ways, and after a few hundred years it was officially renamed. It had been built to orbit around the icy planet of Humuhumu; a beautiful white ball of ice, especially when it reflected the light from the nearest star. Humuhumu was quite unique, as it was covered by thick ice, which only melted around its equator, producing a blue ribbon of sea that stretched around the planet. There was native life underwater – species that could withstand the cold climate and life under the ice – and the most famous of them was the white pufferfish, which could grow into a circumference of over two metres. In order to preserve its natural state, the planet was restricted for commercial activity, including fishing and tourism. This was thanks to the financial clout of the owners of Five Ways, but it was not just for goodwill: beautiful Humuhumu was a key attraction for drawing in affluent clients.

  The spaceport in the middle of Five Ways served all of the five spokes. As they approached, the port control directed Eddie to land close to the spoke that hosted Star Bar. Despite its name, it was more than just any bar; it was a massive entertainment centre, especially known for its vast array of adult-oriented options, ranging from casinos to nightclubs to personal services. Tredd had been there as a young officer on many a holiday, and while those fun times had a place in his heart, he was glad not to live them again.

  Tredd went with Berossus to order the recharging service for the quantum pinch engine. Berossus’s mother was on another spoke, one that was a full-service retirement city, and while he wanted to visit her as soon as possible, he had to wait until she woke up – it was still night-time in the station – and so tagged along with Tredd.

  As they were going to have a few hours to kill, Evie, who had also visited the Star Bar before, took Bells with her to show her around. Eddie had gone his own way, Tredd was not sure where.

  Tredd stood with Berossus outside the service office, waiting for a free robot to take their order. The billboard above them showed an advertisement where an attractive couple entered a Jacuzzi hand in hand, apparently on a small luxury star-cruiser.

  Berossus stood out from the crowd like an emergency button with his bright red T-shirt, which for many others would have been loose like a tent, but on him it was on the tighter side. Under the shirt, his muscle-bound arms had veins like a map had routes.

  Looking at the people on the billboard, the folks going past them to the entertainment quarter, and even Berossus beside him, made Tredd feel weak and small. ‘Look at me,’ he said, and pointed at his own chest. ‘I was a tough soldier with a solid body. Now I look like bag of space goo.’

  Berossus turned his gaze from the billboard down at Tredd. ‘That’s a bit harsh, Captain. To me you look like a solid fella. No space goo, sir.’

  People kept saying this to him. Perhaps it was relative – compared to a typical guy his age he was solid, but he also remembered the days when he had been strong and lean. ‘Thanks. And how do you maintain a body like that?’

  ‘I was big already as a child, always stood out among the stumpy Andron youngsters,’ Berossus said with a chuckle. ‘A freak of nature if you will, but there are taller Androns too. Maintaining my body is easy: lift heavy, eat big, sleep long.’ He counted those three things with his thick fingers as he spoke. Then he lowered his voice and leaned closer to Tredd. ‘You know, anyone can become big and strong. I know many guys who have gotten size-enhancing treatments.’

  Tredd knew about the treatments and the drugs – a quadrillion teradollar business. It was one way of going about it, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. ‘Are they safe?’

  ‘I would never touch that stuff.’

  Tredd laughed. It was so easy to enhance yourself with a pill, injection or a biomechanical hack. It was the way of the world. Everything had its cost though, and for Tredd it would have been too high. Sometimes Tredd felt like he was the only natural organism in the whole galaxy, but when he thought of the time-lapse, the feeling passed.

  ‘I’m thinking of getting back in shape… but it’s difficult when you’re in ships, spaceports and closed quarters all the time.’

  Berossus took a step back and looked Tredd from head to toe. ‘You honestly don’t look too bad.’

  Even so, Tredd couldn’t help feeling sluggish. ‘Perhaps it doesn’t show yet, but I can certainly feel it.’

  Berossus shrugged. ‘Make time, you can do it anywhere. Get a virtual coach. It’s just stupid not to,’ Berossus said, and became suddenly flustered. ‘Sorry, sir, I don’t mean to say you’re stupid—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Tredd said, and waved a hand to brush it off. Behind Berossus a crowd was gathering, and they both turned to see what was going on.

  A human lady sat on the floor holding a baby, trying to cover her breast with a zipper that seemed stuck. An elderly Dresnean man lay down on the floor, an elderly woman and a few onlookers helping him up. A few metres away a hover-pad floated just a few centimetres in the air. Apparently the woman had been breastfeeding on the go and bumped into the elderly couple. As the security officers arrived on the scene, the Dresnean man was already upright, dusting his blue jacket while the elderly Dresnean woman walked the hover-pad back to the nursing mother. The elderly couple were all smiles, and even helped the human mother back on the hover-pad while the security officers stepped back.

  ‘Those old Dresneans sure are sturdy folk,’ Tredd said, and as always, brought up a memory of the one Dresnean he would like to run over.

  ‘Pays to stay fit,’ Berossus said, and chuckled. ‘While we are here, why not take advantage of what they have to offer?’

  ‘Perhaps, if you’re talking about exercise.’ Tredd tensed the muscles in his chest and stomach; they were still there, but could sure benefit from a bit of targeted natural stimulus. ‘All the same, I’m not going to get any bod-mods. What if they have nanobots I don’t know about? Someone could hack my brain. Besides, I don’t want to introduce anything unstable on the mission.’

  Berossus grunted. ‘Look, there. Perhaps he got Skeletech.’

  The video billboard above them showed a grey man running up a mountain at breakneck speed. The camera zoomed in, and as the film froze it started panning around to reveal various modifications and add-ons in the old man’s body. After highlighting the upgraded heart, lungs, eyes, muscles and brain, the image of the man made space for the brand: ‘Skeletech – the power inside you.’

  The video made it all feel good and sexy. It was an advertisement after all, but Tredd could not shake the worry of having too many implements within him, connected to corporations whose sole purpose was to make money.

  ‘Maybe when I’m actually old,’ Tredd said, as the human mother and baby swooshed past the queue on their hover-pad. The baby held a ball with rainbow-coloured lights. That reminded Tredd about the thing he wanted to ask. ‘So is it true you’ve never gone down to a planet?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Berossus said. ‘Or, to be honest, I have once, but I will never go again.’

  A Jindalar man in front of them got his service and Tredd stepped forward. ‘Why, what happened?’

  ‘I saw the fields, the blue sky, and I got dizzy and had to lie down, face to the ground, and close my eyes. I was in that state until they brought me back up on a lander.’ />
  ‘That doesn’t sound good.’ Tredd thought about the mission, and potential need to go down on a planet, but he also felt for Berossus. It must be awful, not being able to go down on a planet, being confined to artificial man-made stations of steel and chrystallium, not being able to experience the planetary nature as humans were meant to. ‘Do you know the cause of it?’

  ‘They say it’s agoraphobia, but standing here,’ Berossus said, turning around in the middle of the vast port, ‘or on the deck of a station, or looking out into the endless infinity of space… they do nothing to me. Even a planetary simulation is fine; only a real planet does it to me.’

  ‘But you’ve been down only once—’

  ‘I’m not going to do it again,’ Berossus said, his tone confrontational. Then, as if realising it, he turned away for a second. ‘I’m sorry, Captain.’

  Tredd replied with a nod. To him this sounded like Berossus was just afraid of going to a planet after a bad experience years ago. If there really was an issue with him, surely the doctors would have found it. ‘Have you had Bells check you out?’

  Berossus shook his head. ‘I don’t like doctors that much. Just seeing them makes me feel ill.’

  Tredd chuckled. Another childhood trauma, perhaps? At least Berossus seemed to be the real deal. He couldn’t rid him of his quirks, but knowing about them would help if a situation arose.

  The service counter buzzed with robots scuttling around, carrying out orders for their customers. Tredd found the crowd diverse: Androns, Dresneans, Baars, Jindalars and humans – all five races in perfect harmony of Dawn, all queuing up for service.

  It had taken unusually long, but just as Tredd looked up at the clock, a free service robot approached them.

  Unlike the ones at Gemma Central, the service robots in Five Ways had no legs, but hovered a few centimetres above the floor on inbuilt hover-boards. To compensate for their lack of legs, they had six precision arms. Apparently they could have moved faster, and even climb up the walls on their hands, but because people preferred the standing position, and the spaceport floors were smooth, the customer-facing robots had been turned upright and made to hover few centimetres above the floor. Still, whenever Tredd interacted with one, it made him feel like he was talking to a large mechanical insect.

  Tredd asked for a recharge service and Berossus discussed the possibilities for expanding the capacity of the quantum pinch engine. He asked a few insightful questions that Tredd would never have thought of, demonstrating his depth of knowledge. However, getting a proper multi-pinch capability fitted on a Rutger was like installing a third eye on your forehead – it could be done, but it made no sense. With only recharging the double drive, they were still looking at an eight-hour maintenance break. That had to do.

  After the deal was done, and the maintenance work was underway, Tredd and Berossus started wandering back towards the ship.

  ‘What do you have in mind, Captain?’ Berossus asked as they walked.

  ‘You had a good point back there about keeping fit, so I’m going to check out the options for exercise, it’s been—’ Tredd stopped when a group of five soldiers approached them.

  The soldiers all wore the black and grey uniform of the Dawn Alliance Navy. The man in the front had the shiny mark of a lieutenant on his chest, one was a corporal and three were privates.

  The lieutenant spoke. ‘Are you Mr Tredd Bounty, former captain of the DAN, currently self-employed as a bounty hunter, of Unit 3532, Block 32, Quadrant 4, Spit City?’

  This could be trouble, Tredd thought. His authorisation through FIST should have been good, as he had been granted access to land. ‘Uh-huh. What do you boys want?’

  ‘We have the orders to retain you for questioning,’ the lieutenant said, standing stiff and emotionless, his team behind him with hands on weapons. ‘You have to come with us, sir.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘It’s classified. You must come with us now.’

  ‘You can’t take the captain,’ Berossus said, and stepped between the soldiers and Tredd. ‘We’re on an urgent mission—’

  Tredd hit Berossus in his ribs from behind. He was talking too much for his own good.

  ‘Step out of the way, Mr Dengo,’ the lieutenant said, motioning for Berossus to move aside. ‘We have read your file as well. Should you start making a scene, we will not hesitate to electrocute either of you. Your identities have been locked until further notice.’

  Berossus growled, but did not move. Two of the privates raised their weapons.

  Damn, Tredd thought. If they’ve locked my identity, I can’t even leave the port. How am I going to make it to Yedda and find Tommy in time? He didn’t even know what the navy wanted. He had an inkling of an idea, and there was only one way to find out.

  ‘Fine. I’ll come with you,’ Tredd said, and pushed Berossus to the side.

  ‘Captain?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’ Tredd placed his hand on the big man’s shoulder. ‘Just prepare the ship and the rest of the crew so that we’re ready to leave as soon as I’m clear.’

  ‘Aye aye, Cap,’ Berossus said, and raised his hand to his brow, as if in salute. It was awkward – he was not a soldier, and nor was Tredd a captain of the navy, not anymore – but Tredd had to admit it was quite amusing in front of the stuffed shirts.

  Two soldiers took Tredd by the arms. The lieutenant grinned. ‘It might take a while, Private, before your captain comes back.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  IT HAD BEEN a while since Eddie had visited the Star Bar, or anywhere he could gamble. After they landed, he felt he had to get away from the crew, breathe some healthy air, and walk around as an anonymous person. Ever since he had met Cassandra, he hadn’t gambled, and hadn’t touched the bottle – he hadn’t even been away from Baleor without her.

  It had been different when he was a fighter pilot. Manoeuvring past asteroids and the rogue cruisers, and seeing his blasts blow up their fighters, had made him feel invincible. But it was always fleeting. Deep down, he had felt terrible. When thoughts of death surfaced from within his subconscious, he used alcohol to push them back down. Then came gambling. As a substitute to the thrill of the battle, Jester was the only thing that had made him feel alive.

  Without thinking, he stumbled into the entertainment sector. The central walkway buzzed with intergalactic tourists, thrill seekers, hustlers and freaks. On either side the familiar chains of gambling dens flashed their warm, enticing lights, large screens playing videos of money, beautiful people and fast crafts. There was the Hothouse, Wellagio, Platinum and the likes, but his favourite had always been the Ace of Spades. It was at the end of the walkway, unmistakable with its black and white decor. To Eddie, it felt like home.

  Jester, the true gentlemen’s game, Eddie thought. The all-nighter cash games against Konen, Erfani, Jundaman, and the sweet victory from Ric Fando in the final jump in the pan-galactic series. It’s been so long; wonder if those guys are still around?

  He wanted to go in. He was already walking towards the red carpet that took people in and up to the games areas, but he stopped. What am I doing? I should turn around and walk away. These joints got me into the trouble in the first place.

  He watched a group of short, chubby, red-skinned Andron Grenadot boys laughing and prancing onto the red carpet. They looked so happy and cheerful – perfect prey for a pro like Eddie.

  Perhaps just a quick game?

  Why not?

  What’s there to lose?

  He decided to go in.

  In less than five minutes, he had found a free seat on a table with nine other players battling each other, hunting for Jester. He logged in to the system and made a transfer of a thousand teradollars, the table maximum. While waiting to join the next ‘jump’, he glanced around and evaluated the other players. First observation: there was no one he knew, which was good. This was a small-stakes table.

  Second observation: the most money on the table was with a fat fello
w almost opposite him. It was over ten times what you could place on the table when you joined. He had been winning.

  Third observation: the fat fellow was loud and annoying, and deserved to part with his currency.

  The round screen, which covered the whole table, faded to black and lit up again to announce the next jump. Eddie was in the game with the blind bet. The random generator distributed the pieces among the players, and everyone started to organise theirs.

  Eddie got an excellent set to start with, but once he bet, everyone threw their pieces away and Eddie got the Jester, and with it, everyone’s blind bets. It was a win – a tiny one – but a win nevertheless. Because of the apparent complexity of pieces and land formations in the game, many thought of Jester as a battle game, whereas it really was a betting game. While winning battles and capturing Jester mattered, there was little skill involved, mostly luck. You made money by placing smart bets.

  As the next jump came about, Eddie felt more relaxed. It was great to be back at the tables. Playing was like riding a hover bike, and winning felt good, just like in the good old days.

  Someone brought him a tall blue drink. Eddie looked up: a waitress, dressed in a tight top that accentuated her bust and a skirt that barely covered her buttocks. Eddie was baffled.

  ‘It’s on the house, sir,’ the waitress, pouting her full red lips. ‘Thank you for being a loyal lifetime supernova member.’

  Eddie hesitated at first – he was clear of alcohol – but then he thought why not, one drink would do no harm. He smiled back to the waitress, and raised the glass to his lips.

  He had tasted the vintage bubbly on their wedding anniversary and it had been no problem – and besides, he was enjoying himself. He wanted to show everyone on the table who was boss, especially the fat guy.

 

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