I punched in the code to my quarters and the door opened to a small, rectangular-shaped room. There was an old fashioned oak dresser attached to the left wall and a full sized bed in the middle. The right wall was bare, but with the touch of a camouflaged panel it would open a secret compartment which held my tactical gear and rifle. I had to give the designers credit, the secret compartment was awesome.
I pulled open the top drawer of the dresser, retrieved a small canister, and twisted the cap open to reveal a number of white pills. I took one and swallowed it, hoping it would do its job and keep unwanted images and memories from invading my mind while I slept. If I didn’t take one of these, I wouldn’t sleep, plain and simple.
The mattress groaned and squeaked as I sank into it. Maybe it wasn’t happy to see me but I was more than happy to see it. Reaching back behind me, I hit the panel on the wall that controlled the lighting, lowering it several levels until I was satisfied. The hum of the engine, the rattling of the deck plates, and the vibration of the ship acted as a lullaby to me. Before I could think a single thought about my next step, my eyes were closed and I was asleep.
“Captain Quinn to the bridge!” A voice roared over the intercom, my arms and legs flew up and my heart jumped into hyperactive.
“Flux!” I cursed. My head felt like something was sloshing around inside and my eyelids didn’t want to open.
“Al,” I croaked out. “You realize since we’re the only ones onboard that you don’t have to follow regulation right?”
“I did not consider that sir. Shall I relay the information to you presently?”
“I just got to sleep, but what the hell? Go ahead.”
“Actually you have been sleeping for forty-seven minutes.”
Seriously? It didn’t feel like it. I massaged my face with my hands, smacking my cheeks to try and coax myself awake.
“Captain,” Al continued. “After successfully reorganizing and combining the collective databases, I now have a full analysis of the most common word in the collection. Empyreus.”
“Should I know what that is?” I asked him.
“It is not surprising, actually. I searched every database I could link up to from our current position and found what you would call ‘only a handful’ of submissions of the word.”
“Okay, I’m with you so far. So what is it?”
Al paused for a moment. I realized what I did shortly after and cursed myself for doing it.
“Captain . . . you are not with me. You are in your quarters.”
Al was great, but sometimes he took things a bit too literally. I rolled my eyes and waited, hoping he would get the point and continue.
“In the few articles I managed to access, empyreus is a mythological energy source, vastly superior to anything known to any alien race associated to man. The power of empyreus is even greater than that of Earth’s sun, producing at least twice as much energy, and unusually stable.”
“What do you mean unusually stable?” I asked him.
“Consider the types of energy that humankind has used over their existence. Fossil fuels, fusion, plasma, and antimatter all have the potential to be toxic or largely unstable and can create chaotic devastation if not properly handled. Empyreus is neither toxic nor unstable.”
Stars above, I thought. If this stuff was real, it would be the most sought after and valuable source of energy in the known galaxy.
“But it’s only a myth?”
“Correct sir. While there are multiple reports on the energy itself, I cannot trace any of the information back to its point of origin. Without a source, or evidence of its existence, the power has been labeled as a myth and legend.”
“So then why is Sarah King after it?” I shuddered as I said the name out loud.
“That is unknown sir, however from a large number of logs encrypted in the data I analyzed, it seems they were searching for something. Probes were sent out to various corners of the galaxy, programmed to only look for certain energy signatures.”
“So they received a positive signature from a probe searching for this empyreus stuff?” If the Echelon had already found a positive signature from an energy source they thought to be empyreus, then this was most likely a waste.
“Technically, no. They began to receive data from all probes at regular intervals. All of the data was stored in the directory you collected in order to be examined and decoded. I would estimate at this current time that they would not find anything useful for a matter of months. However, I found something. While all probes have been sending back data, one in particular has been doing so erratically.”
I tried to wrap my head around everything Al was telling me. If this empyreus really existed, it could change the playing field on so many levels, but for whom and for what? I could only imagine what Sarah King and her tainted crew on the Echelon had in mind, but to the right bidder this secret could be worth an enormous amount of money. If I could sell this information, I could live comfortably for a long time and potentially even right a few wrongs from my past.
The probe. Al said one of them was sending back data erratically. My head juggled the information around. Maybe it was damaged by a meteor or other space debris, or something as simple as a defective unit. We didn’t exactly live in an age where our machines worked at 100% efficiency 100% of the time. Something told me this was different, that someone had found this probe and was doing their best to stop its transmission. Al came to the same conclusion when I told him my theory, which meant that we not only discovered empyreus, but also a possible range of coordinates where it might be located.
The question now was how to put the word out. The ESA already infiltrated the Starcade. Placing my own post of the information would be like telling them, ‘Hey! I’m over here and I’ve got your data!’ so that was out of the question. This time I was going to have to shop around the old fashioned way, face to face.
“Alright,” I said, my mind a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. “Let me know when we reach Galaxy One.”
“Acknowledged,” Al said.
The room stayed silent after that. I laid there on my back for some time and closed my eyes only to find it impossible to keep them shut. My mind was racing too fast to sleep. I turned to my side, then my stomach, stretching out my arms and legs. Eventually I think I won the battle for sleep because when Al announced we were approaching Galaxy One Alpha, my eyes were crusted shut and my left leg hung off the bed with no feeling past the knee. I knew that would feel uncomfortable in a few minutes.
I stood up and walked out of my quarters towards the bridge. With every left step I took, hundreds of imaginary needles stabbed me in the leg. I grabbed the banister attached to the corridor and used it reach the door. I didn’t even try to reach my command chair, but dropped into the tactical station chair behind it.
“Captain,” Al said as I approached my chair. “Have you injured your leg?”
“Pins and needles,” I groaned. “Don’t say anything. Don’t ask. Just pins and needles.”
Al didn’t make a sound after that. As the intense sensation subsided, I moved to my chair and leaned over to look at the display screen. The command, navigation, and tactical stations were all a similar layout. Each had a display screen that was about twenty inches from corner to corner. Surrounding it were smaller touch screens with multiple tiles of programs and controls. The command station actually had two of these stations on each side of my chair. Directly in front of me was a sphere, which I used to manually control the ship. Above that was the main viewing shield. In broader terms it was just a window transparent enough to see what was in front of me, but the material was constructed to be durable enough to handle debris and some weapon fire. The ship had dropped out of slingspace and was directly on route with the station.
As we passed into visual range I switched my right view to the live camera feed. Galaxy One Alpha was a space station, the central hub of human and alien activity in this corner of the galaxy. A large dome sat on t
op of a saucer-shaped platform big enough to fit multiple cities inside of it. Attached to the dome were multiple spheres, each one corresponding to a different operation such as manufacturing, science and research, and my current destination, the star port.
“Attention vessel,” A low voice growled over the intercom. “This is Galaxy One Alpha Tower Command. We have you on our scanners and require identification.”
“Daniel Quinn, Captain of the Kestrel Belle, registry FAL0812.”
Every time I gave my name openly over communication channels my heart would beat faster and my sweat glands quickened their production. Sarah King never made the accusations against me public and in doing so couldn’t outwardly put a price on my head. I thought I knew the reason why she did this; a combination of information I held that she needed and her own personal pride. She loved to play the game of cat and mouse and wanted the pleasure of hunting me alone so she could take out her vengeance on me. No one would rob her of that as far as she was concerned.
“Kestrel Belle,” tower command said. “You are confirmed for docking. Proceed to platform nine.”
THREE
The inside of the docking bay resembled the inside of a hollow metal planet, which itself was tucked inside a bigger metal planet. The station was designed this way so that the outer station’s doors could open and let ships in and out. Once those were closed, the inner doors opened to the dock itself. If the doors were ever opened at the same time the entire dock area would decompress, sucking ships and people out into space. This hasn’t happened yet as far as I knew, but I stayed aware of it when I visited the station.
Over a hundred platforms were connected to a handful of staging areas where shipments and cargo were checked over by control tower security. Once cleared past the staging area, you would then continue down a long walkway that led to the main elevator, which provided access to the main port terminal of Galaxia City.
Once the Belle was inside the dock, I let Al maneuver her to platform nine. The Belle slowly lowered onto the empty platform and trembled slightly as she met the floor. The landing gear groaned under the weight before finally locking into position. When my display read that we were on the ground, I cut power to the engines.
“Optimal landing Al,” I said.
“Why would it not be sir?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.
The port was busy today. Every platform I could see outside the front shield had a ship on it, their crews all waiting in line to have their cargo inspected and cleared. Luckily for me I had no cargo so I could walk past that traffic jam. I took a deep breath going over my plan one more time in my head, then stood up.
“Al, keep the ship on conservative power. Remain online and attempt to access those coordinates from the faulty probe. I should be back within a couple of hours.”
“Acknowledged Captain,” Al said. I left the bridge and walked toward the rear of the ship, climbing down a set of stairs and stepping onto my cargo bay. This was the primary entrance and exit to the Belle. The bay was the largest room, resembling a mini warehouse with scaffolding on each wall and nets and ties for any cargo I might bring aboard. Next to the door was a lever, which I wrapped my hand around and pulled down. The door squealed and creaked as it lowered to the floor.
The temperature was cool and the sounds were plentiful as I stepped out onto the platform. Humans and aliens alike were arguing with each other or aiming their aggression towards security for holding up their delivery. I eased my way past them and walked toward the elevator.
“Good evening,” a computerized female voice announced. I pushed the button and the pod dropped at a quick and controlled speed. “Welcome to Galaxy One Alpha. Proceeding to Grand Central Station. The temperature on the main floor is currently a comfortable 68 degrees Fahrenheit. Wind speed is 7 miles per hour.”
As the mechanical operator finished her welcome speech, the pod stopped and the doors parted to reveal the Grand Central Station. A large archway stood overhead. Underneath were passenger terminals, tram stations and service desks. From here you could arrange transport to any section of the station or charter a passenger starship to another station or planet in the galaxy.
The skyline of Galaxia City was in view over the trams. As you stepped out of the archway of the station brilliant, warm, artificial sunlight illuminates the city. One of the most appealing aspects of the station was the total sense of realism. The city itself was designed to represent the pinnacle of our technological prowess on Earth, with structures of unimaginable beauty, gleaming skyscrapers, and abstract art running along the streets. I knew the city was inspired by New York City, one of Earth’s biggest and most popular cities in the United States.
The artificial atmosphere designed for this station was unlike any other. When I looked up at the sky I saw numerous clouds pass overhead. The “sun” created a warm sensation on my face. When I took a deep breath, the air didn’t give off the same artificial smell that was on most starships or the external hubs of the station. When I closed my eyes I felt the sun and the wind, smelled the various aromas from the people walking by, and heard real birds chirping. I could be convinced I was on Earth.
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened and the calm moment passed. I turned to look behind me. I had an odd feeling that someone was watching me. There weren’t that many people nearby and those who were close looked focused on their own lives, not mine. I turned my head from left to right slowly, trying to determine if anyone in sight was looking in my direction. Nothing.
To most people paranoia is a nasty trait to have. At times it can be a curse. A few years ago mine was so bad I thought every shadow was someone waiting to attack me. However, with time and discipline I learned to turn it into a strength and a skill that I would be able to use to survive. I learned to trust my instincts.
Instead of taking the long way to my destination, which I originally intended, I used what little money I had to buy a tram ticket. The ‘thank you!’ the clerk nearly sang was dripping with an abundance of enthusiasm.
The tram itself was a long multi-car transport. It hovered in the air above its track, which was designed with some kind of magnetic device to keep the tram from derailing. Inside each car were a large number of cushioned seats and long benches. I sat on one of the benches closest to the window and watched to see if anyone who got onboard looked suspicious. Nothing. Maybe this time it was simply a case of the aforementioned paranoia.
“Please state destination,” said the same voice I heard in the elevator. All at once everyone in my car spoke. It sounded like gibberish when we all said it in unison. Not everyone was going to the same place, but the microphone installed on each car was able to determine all of the individual stopping points and direct each to the navigational computer, which was pretty impressive. The cars lifted a few inches into the air and with a short jolt the tram shot forward.
The Galaxia marketplace was located in the middle of the city and it was the one place you could find anything in the galaxy; from food and drink to ship parts and armor. You could also find a variety of illegal items if you knew where to look. A lot of business transactions on the Starcade ended in the marketplace to acquire payment or items. In order to start or finalize your contract, you would meet in one of the establishments that surrounded the marketplace. These establishments were very reminiscent of clubs, bars, and taverns back on Earth. One of these places was my destination.
When the tram stopped I made sure to be one of the first people off. I jogged a few feet ahead and turned to face the cars letting people off. I wanted to be sure no one followed me. I even went as far as to activate my bionic eye, which sent the familiar surge of pain through my head when I turned it on. I fought back the need to wince and curse as it powered up, and I immediately scanned people. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. My eye scanned over items and found nothing more than manifest and shipment documents, and sale purchase receipts. Some people had sidearms tucked under their coats, but none of them gave me the
light of day. I shrugged and turned my eye off, feeling a great sense of relief. I turned and walked down the stairs into the marketplace.
A wide open, stone covered area was littered with carts and booths. The plaza was surrounded by shops and taverns. Saying the noise was loud would be a major understatement. Merchants shouted at the top of their lungs saying whatever was necessary to draw attention to their assortment of goodies. ‘We take all forms of payment!’, ‘Trades allowed here!’, ‘Shop here and let’s work together to mutually benefit!’ were some of the things I could pick out. At the same time potential or previous customers were shouting right back at them. Some people were shouting out bids for popular items, while others were complaining about the service or low quality item they received.
Needless to say, I tried to keep out of marketplace business unless I desperately needed something that couldn’t be found elsewhere. Every rare item ever heard of somehow ended up here. I was shocked that people weren’t selling the empyreus Al told me about. That’s how in-depth the retail is here.
The place I was looking for was down an alley which led in and out of the marketplace. Sitting comfortably in-between a weapons depot store and a consulting firm was Neptune’s Tavern. I often wondered if the bar’s placement was intentional, so that when a consultation went sour people could go to the weapons store, shoot at each other, then finish off with a drink. The entrance was down a set of stairs and before you entered there was a large sign that read ‘Weapons belong next door, not here’ with an arrow pointing toward the weapons shop. It continued by saying ‘All are welcomed, but leave weapons outside’. The owner of the tavern didn’t take well to people shooting it out in his establishment. He also welcomed all races, human and alien alike. Neptune’s Tavern was known to be a popular neutral location.
Energize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 1) Page 3