Chaos Quarter

by Welch, David

  Flynn handed the device to the primitive man. The injured primitive grasped it woozily, staring at it.

  “Show what you recorded!” Flynn demanded. A Warrior stepped behind the primitive man, twice the poor animal’s size. A throaty growl filled the cavity.

  The primitive punched something on the mechanical device. An image appeared in thin air, a projection of some sort.

  “Eye!” Blair shouted.

  From a recess in the ceiling, a strand of muscle descended, snaking down toward the projection. A compound eye the size of a fist waited at one end. It stared at the projection, unblinking.

  “Observe for later recall,” Blair ordered.

  The holographic projection began to play. It showed a landing pad, dominated by a large metal ship. The mere sight of it grated on Blair. Sharp angles and static hulls; useless, dead things. Approaching the ship was some sort of mechanical device, a wheeled thing clearly made for ground travel. The back of the device held a large, shallow bay. In it was the unmistakable, if crushed, body of the ambassador. His second huddled beside him. The vehicle drove into the ship, which then took off. The image flickered and vanished.

  “Can we trace the excretions of the vessel?” asked Blair.

  Flynn thought for a moment before replying. “If we compared the engine exhaust from the image to the particle paths surrounding this world, we might be able to pick it up.”

  “Have the sifters do so,” Blair spoke. He moved to leave, stopping only to kiss Flynn. As he walked away, he shouted back, “Deliver our response to the world, and dispose of that animal!”

  The primitive’s tortured cries echoed down the passage as the Warriors tossed him into the acid pit.

  Unable even to control their own pain, he thought clinically. It seemed to be a common trait amongst their kind. He’d have to run more experiments on that when this was over.

  Outside, the ship turned, bringing its front around to face the planet. Without warning, a dozen large metal spheres shot from within, two at a time. They streaked into the atmosphere, straight for the city, trailing fire behind them. The Cordelian fighters broke to attack, only to find smaller spheres lobbed at them, tearing through them. The larger spheres tore into the city of Khors with incredible force. The city erupted, engulfed by massive explosions. Curtains of dirt and chunks of ruined buildings flew through towers of fire, flying for miles through the atmosphere before plunging to the rain forest. The earth shook from the force of the impact.

  Several days later, when the fires died down and the dust cleared from the air, nothing remained of the Cordelian capital but charred steel and a half-dozen overlapping craters.

  If humans are naturally evolved creatures, then what their minds come up with is, logically, also natural. Nobody would question the natural nature of a termite mound or a beaver dam. It’s what they do. So it doesn’t really matter if you’re building a robot dog or engineering cold-resistant wheat, because that’s what humans do. They reason, build, and experiment. They come up with ways to solve problems like any other animal. They just do it much, much better.

  Self-awareness has taken the biological aspects of evolution out of the process. Perhaps the fact that no other species has evolved beyond the standard evolutional process makes us seem odd by comparison, but ultimately when it comes to the ability to alter the world around us, it is a question of degrees. The deer strips young trees of leaves and bark. The beaver floods forests to make ponds. The bee builds a hive. The man straps on a rocket and mines asteroids.’

  -Joseph Davidson, Excerpt from ‘All That Is Natural,’ Collected Essays, 2071

  Illarien System, Chaos Quarter

  Standard Date 12/07/2506

  “I told you, we are en route to Boundary carrying fucking wheat!” Rex seethed.

  “How are we to know you’re not carrying weapons? The Aruthins are known to hide weapons in food shipments,” a voice replied over his comms.

  “Who the hell are the Aruthins?!” Rex demanded.

  “Slow your ship for boarding,” the voice replied, ignoring his question.

  “I told you already. I’ll pay your damn tolls but you’re not getting on my ship,” he replied.

  “We will take it by force if you do not slow and prepare for inspection. Our price for passage has just doubled—”

  A single blast of white light streaked from Long Haul’s pulse cannon. The channel went dead. The two fighters in his view screen, one an actual fighter designed as such (if beaten up a bit), the other a life-boat with electromagnetic machine guns welded to the side, slowly pulled back from his ship. Rex glanced over to Lucius, who shrugged, the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

  “Still want to inspect?” Rex asked.

  “Eject the toll and get out of our space,” a much surlier voice replied.

  Rex tossed a gold coin to Lucius.

  “Throw that out the observation blister,” he spoke.

  Lucius disappeared back into the hallway. Second, standing in her normal spot at the back of the bridge, watched him go.

  “Coin ejected,” the computer informed him.

  “Current position?”

  “Nine hundred thirty five million miles from system’s star. Red star. Gas giants, four in number, close to the star. Large asteroid belts between them, dominating the inner system.”

  “Stay away from the inner system, alert me when the jump drives have recharged,” Rex spoke. He pressed down on the accelerator, pushing the ship up to .09C. He leaned back in his chair and watched the two fighters disappear from his radar sphere.

  Lucius reappeared, retaking his seat.

  “Back to boring,” Rex spoke.

  “Those fighter craft posed no serious threat, even with the damage to our forward armor,” Lucius pointed out.

  “They may have friends, no use picking a fight when a bribe will do,” Rex replied.

  Lucius nodded his understanding, but still looked a bit upset by the thought. He turned back to the screen.

  “This planet we’re going to, Boundary, what is its importance? I’ve heard the name before,” Lucius asked.

  “Computer, project information on Boundary,” Rex replied.

  A large three-dimensional planet hovered above them. Stats and figures floated in the air around it. It looked like most terraformed worlds, predominantly blue due to its large oceans. Three Africa-sized continents, give or take a few hundred square miles, sat isolated amidst the waters. Countless rugged islands seemed to radiate away from the continents in ray-like archipelagos, the tops of what had been great mountain chains before humanity had transformed the world. Ice-caps, smaller than Earth’s, rested at each pole. Both poles were surrounded by open water.

  “Boundary is a protectorate of the Terran Commonwealth,” Rex explained. “We provide a defense capable of handling any threat you’re likely to find in the Quarter in exchange for several islands and a trading station in orbit. Every trade good coming from the Quarter into the Commonwealth goes through here,” Rex said, his voice souring toward the end.

  “You don’t approve?” Lucius asked, noting the tone.

  “It’s mercantilist. Trade would be much more efficient and cost-effective if you could travel direct paths. But the government makes a killing off taxing trade through Boundary, and the military is worried about thousands of ships crossing our borders without inspection,” Rex explained.

  “I can understand their concern,” Lucius spoke.

  “Paranoia,” Rex grumbled. “Plus the ruling elite on Boundary are known to give huge campaign contributions to our congressmen, so it’s not likely things will change any time soon. Both sides are getting too rich off the status quo!”

  Rex sighed and ordered, “Focus on Tharej.”

  The image zoomed in, closing on an island just north of the planet’s equator. A sizeable military installation dominated the island’s eastern shore, surrounded by a suburb.

  “Only sovereign Commonwealth ground in the Quarter,” Rex
explained, “There’s a base there the EID uses. We should be able to drop our dead guy.”

  “EID?” Lucius asked.

  “External Intelligence Division, the people that the fleet so generously loaned me out to,” Rex said, voice thick with sarcasm.

  Lucius looked back to Second.

  “Should you speak of such things in front of her? If she were to be recaptured and they asked—”

  “Don’t worry,” Rex said. “Half the people in the Quarter know we’re there. Her people probably know already. Your people certainly do.”

  “Former people,” Lucius noted.

  “A large ship has been detected,” the computer stated.

  “How large?” Rex asked, perking up.

  The island disappeared, replaced by the rough outline of a ship.

  “It looks like a whale with arms,” Rex remarked, cocking his head numerous times to see it from different angles. Lucius raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “Does this match any known design?” Rex asked.

  “No nation known to the Commonwealth has ships of this shape,” the computer replied.

  “Can you get a better picture?”

  “The scopes are at maximum magnification,” the machine replied.

  “Keep an eye on—”

  Rex paused and spun his chair around. Second remained in her customary spot, staring blankly at the projection.

  “Do you recognize this ship?” Rex asked.

  “I do. It is not a ship. It is a War-beast,” she replied.

  “What is a War-beast?” Lucius asked.

  “A line created for combat and long-distance travel in a vacuum,” she replied.

  “It’s alive?” Rex asked.

  “Yes. It is a semi-conscious organism,” she spoke.

  “If it’s only semi-conscious, why is it moving through space and making jumps?” spoke Rex.

  “It follows the commands of the Masters assigned to fly it. Non-organic components are surgically implanted into the War-beast’s body to replicate gravitational pull and facilitate travel through hyperspace,” she spoke.

  “And why is it here?” Lucius asked, his dark look revealing that he already knew the answer.

  “Most likely to regain the body of the ambassador,” she replied. “The Hegemony does not allow its dead to—”

  “Hegemony?” Lucius interrupted.

  “Is that your homeland?” Rex asked. “The people that created you?”

  “Yes,” she replied simply. “The Perfected Hegemony.”

  Rex swiveled back toward the viewscreen, Lucius doing the same. Rex rubbed at his forehead. Well Rex, you wanted to find them and now you have. He had no idea how an organic ship was even possible, but that didn’t matter right now. There were nearly three hundred light-years between himself and Boundary. That wasn’t a distance he could travel without stopping. They’d need to stop and buy food and new rounds for the cannons. He’d wanted to get patch-steel for the armor and see if there was a doctor skilled enough to make sense of Second’s brain.

  And now he had to do it with a warship following him. His mind tried to juggle his mess of thoughts. Any examination or operation on Second would take time, time they now didn’t have. Bringing her back as she was meant not knowing if she’d become the person she should have always been or a mere intelligence resource to be utilized then tossed away. Stopping for repairs wouldn’t be a short break, either.

  He exhaled heavily. How the hell did they find us?

  The answer came to him quickly. It was right out of basic tactical maneuvers: engine trace. Somehow, probably at Cordelia, they’d discovered that his ship had something to do with their man’s disappearance, if the body in back could even be called a man. From then on it was just a matter of examining the color of his engine exhaust. A good engineer could run that through a computer, or whatever it was this ‘War-beast’ used, and identify the proton patterns his anti-matter drive belched out behind him. Find that pattern, and you could trace a course.

  It wasn’t a problem he’d expected to run into out here. Half the ships he met were held together with duct tape and staples. He’d even found a few that didn’t even use anti-matter outside of atmosphere, just agonizingly slow nuclear thermal rockets. He silently chastised himself for getting complacent and dropping his guard. Then he turned back to the image of the whale-shaped projection.

  “Focus rear scopes on the image,” Rex said. “Try to derive a speed from the apparent change in size as it moves. Make sure to take our velocity into account.”

  The computer didn’t respond, but he knew it was working. A moment passed.

  “The vessel is estimated to be travelling at .11C,” it spoke.

  Rex immediately stomped on the accelerator panel. Long Haul pressed forward through the void, creeping upward toward its maximum speed. When the viewscreen flashed .1C, he removed his foot.

  “They’re faster than us,” Rex spoke.

  “Not by all that much,” Lucius replied. “We should be ready to jump before they get close enough to fire.”

  “They’ll trace the distortion in space and follow us wherever we go. It’s what I would do,” Rex spoke.

  Lucius nodded, saying, “I probably would as well.”

  “My jump drive recharges in six hours. That’s good, but military models can beat it. If this ship is a warship—”

  “War-beast,” Second interrupted.

  “Whatever—it probably can top mine. They’ll catch us eventually, well before we get to Boundary,” Rex spoke.

  “Second spoke of how the ship’s jump drives were mechanical additions, not consistent with its organic nature. This might indicate that they do not have advanced mechanical technologies. Their jump capabilities may not match those of our homelands,” said Lucius.

  “Possible, but too great of an unknown for us to gamble on,” Rex replied.

  “So what do we do?” Lucius asked.

  Rex rubbed his jaw. Stubble brushed against his fingers. He thought of his engines, his reactor and fuel especially. An idea came, also straight out of basic tactical manoeuvres.

  “We hide,” he replied, “In plain sight.”

  “What?” Lucius asked.

  “Computer, what was the name of that refinery that the Cordelians did business with?”

  “Helvetia,” the machine replied.

  “How far are we from it?”

  “Five point eight light-years. It is in a neighboring system.”

  “Continue on course until the jump drive has recharged, then change our course. We’re making for Helvetia.”

  * * *

  The War-beast made a chirping noise. Blair’s consciousness barely registered it at first. But it didn’t go away, slowly dragging him from sleep.

  He arose from the bed-platform, the warm undulations of the giant muscle cradling his form as he shifted. He pulled his arms from Flynn’s body, letting him sleep on.

  “What is it?” Blair grumbled.

  “A jump has occurred,” a raspy voice wheezed through a nictitating membrane on the ceiling of their sleeping cavity.

  “Detect their path and jump after them. Continue doing so unless given further orders. Do not wake me again,” Blair snapped.

  He slumped down on the bed, idly trailing his fingers over Flynn’s breast. Flynn’s body fit up against Blair’s more masculine form nicely, its smooth curves as comforting as they were enticing.

  “I’m trying to sleep,” Flynn said with a sleepy smile.

  His fingers ran down Flynn’s stomach, past his stiffening member and then into the warm juncture behind it. A contented moan escaped Flynn’s lips.

  “Sleep later,” Blair whispered.

  Primitives do to space what they did to Earth. They infest it. They spread everywhere, live everywhere, build everywhere! They exist only to enforce their flawed and archaic will on a universe that was perfect long before their arrival. On Earth itself, the only living world that managed to arise naturally in a u
niverse of gas and rock, they beat down all that was different from them. They rebuilt it in their image.

  They build machines that can transform entire planets, and then do it again and again, a thousand times over. They lack the knowledge to know better or do better. They lack the will to take the steps necessary to take advantage of life’s perfection. They revel in their imperfections, dooming life and this galaxy to a violent and chaotic existence.

  -Master Alexus of Rapanui, at the founding of The Perfected Hegemony

  What, have you been living under a rock?

  -Common remark to people living in remote asteroid settlements; etymology of term traced to pre-space civilizations of Old Earth

  Helvetia Refinery, Akiris System, Chaos Quarter

  Standard Date 12/08/2506

  Helvetia was not a planet. It was a fusion of metal and stone. The asteroid that made the bulk of it was a potato-shaped lump of brown rock eighteen miles long, covered in craters and lumpy protrusions. Mined out decades ago, the abandoned tunnels had been taken over, pressurized, and then crammed of with machinery and people. Over the decades it had expanded in both directions. More and more of the rock was hollowed out of the asteroid, while at the same time vast scaffolds of metal protruded farther and farther into space.

  It was also busy. If the information from Cordelia’s computers had been correct, this industrial rock smelted and cured all metals for twenty light-years. A half-dozen systems sent ores here for sale, and a half-dozen outfits furiously bid for the metals as they came in. Helvetia’s refineries would in turn clear it of impurities, smelt it into useful alloys, then sell it again to whoever wanted it. Out here demand for quality material never ceased.