Sons of the Starfarers: Omnibus I-III

by Joe Vasicek

  The display screen flickered, then showed a new menu with dozens of option sets. Most of them had labels like SECURITY DECK 2A and brought up a password field when Isaac tried to select them. At the top, though, he found an icon labeled PUBLIC ACCESS. He selected it, and a new menu opened up, this one not unlike the main screen on the Medea.

  “… four doors. Arrows end here. It looks like someone left it open. Stepping inside …”

  Isaac scrolled down to where the ship’s log would usually be. Of course, there wasn’t one for the station, but there was a document file labeled TO WHOEVER COMES. He selected it.

  “… It’s the station master’s office, all right. There’s an official looking desk with its own terminal and dual displays. There’s a wallscreen, too, but it’s dead, with a crack down the center.”

  To whoever comes, the document read. I am write this station master Nova Alnilam. Datestamp 1.8.1192, New Pleiades reckoning. We are very tsavadet, food medical supplies are tvilo adamansvi since two year, no can we contact outside star …

  Damn Outworld language databases, Isaac thought to himself. Obviously, the document had been written in the colonist’s native language and translated to Gaian by some sort of automated translator. Either this colony had been isolated for a lot longer than anyone had realized, or the person who wrote this document had been in too much of a hurry to do a proper job at it.

  “Looks like there’s a side room. Door is open, just like the main one. There’s a lot more dust here for some reason, not sure why. Stepping inside right now, and—holy shit!”

  Isaac’s blood ran cold.

  “Aaron? Aaron, what do you see?”

  “You’ve got to come see this, Isaac. You’ve got to come right now.”

  Isaac leaped to his feet and hurried out the door as fast as his heavy EVA suit would allow.

  * * * * *

  “I’m here,” Isaac said, painting as he stepped into the station master’s office.

  “This way,” said Aaron, waving him urgently into a side room. Isaac entered the doorway and froze.

  A mostly decayed body lay curled up beside a small cylindrical storage tank in the middle of the floor. The body itself wasn’t much different from any of the others, but the tank was something else entirely. It was built like a coffin, with the upward-facing part made almost entirely of glass. And inside of that glass was the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young woman.

  Chills ran down the back of Isaac’s neck as he stared at her. In this mausoleum, she stood out like a brilliant young star in the midst of a dense, obscuring cloud of gas and dust. She was a little shorter than Aaron and probably not much older, with long black hair and dark olive skin. Her face was round, with dark eyebrows, a flat nose, and full lips. As with anyone under cryo, she was naked, though she had a full-body henna tattoo that almost made her look otherwise. It ran from her wrists and arms across her chest and down past her navel, which was obviously the center of the design. The dark brown ink seemed to form a set of intricate parallel fractals, reflected across an axis that ran down the center of her body. The fine attention to detail was almost religious in its precision.

  “She’s gorgeous,” said Aaron. “Have you ever seen anything like her?”

  “No,” Isaac admitted. He ran his gloved fingers over the glass as if to reach out to her. The henna designs accentuated the natural curves of her body, emphasizing every feature while imbuing her with a sense of poise and dignity. Instead of feeling like a voyeur for staring at her, Isaac felt as if he stood before a shrine.

  “Do you think she’s still alive?”

  “If she is, she’s obviously frozen in cryo. I don’t see any controls, though, so I’m not sure how we’d go about waking her.”

  “Wake her? Stars of Earth—you think we really can?”

  Why else would they have put her in stasis? No doubt the colonists had hoped to save the girl’s life. The fact that she was tucked away here instead of in a more prominent place on the station probably meant that she was the only survivor—clearly, someone had kept the existence of the cryotank a secret right to the very end.

  He took a moment to examine the cryotank itself. The metal casing was discolored in places, the welds and soldering surprisingly crude. It had no external controls, and the systems seemed too crude to be designed for thawing as well as freezing. Clearly, the tank had been constructed by hand—or if the parts had been fabricated from some half-forgotten schematic, they’d been assembled by someone who barely understood how it worked. It was possible that the girl hadn’t even survived the cryofreeze.

  “What do you think?” said Aaron, breaking the silence that had inadvertently fallen between them.

  “The design for the cryotank is crude. I don’t think we can thaw her with any of the equipment here.”

  “We’ve got to take her with us, then, and find someone who can.”

  Isaac frowned. Something about that idea made his stomach turn.

  “We’ve already gone further here than we ever should have,” he said. “Besides, for all we know, she’s already dead.”

  “Dead? What are you talking about, man? If there’s even a chance that she’s alive, we should do all we can to save her.”

  He’s right, Isaac thought to himself. Still, something held him back: a sense of foreboding that screamed at him to go back to the Medea and forget that they’d ever come to this place.

  “Someone else will come eventually. If she’s still alive, she’s frozen in stasis, so it won’t matter how long it takes for someone else to find her.”

  “And what if those people are slavers?” Aaron asked. “You really want to take that chance—to have that on your conscience?”

  “No,” Isaac admitted.

  “Then let’s bring her out. There’s a freight airlock not too far from here—it won’t be difficult to load her up with the rest of the cargo.”

  “Do we have the space, though? Our hold is still full from Nova Minitak.”

  “If we don’t, we’ll just dump enough to make room. It won’t be much, and saving this girl is a lot more important than our next trade anyway. Besides, we’ve built up enough credit in this sector that the loss shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Isaac nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “Right. I’ll get a maglift from the maintenance room, then.”

  “No need—she’s already loaded up on one. All we’ve got to do is take her out.”

  Right again, he thought, checking the underside of the cryotank. They really did want someone to take her. It was as if the girl was the last hope of a long-forgotten people, a precious artifact lost across space and time. How long had she lain here, waiting to be brought back to the realm of the living? He traced the intricate henna patterns with his eyes and wondered why she’d had them done. Perhaps someday he’d be able to ask her.

  That certainly wasn’t the only question about this place that begged for answers, though. Not by all the hidden stars of Earth.

  Rumors of War

  “Greetings Medea,” came the voice over the radio, cackling a little from the long distance. “Your signal we have. Trajectory good. Flight plans we transmit.”

  “Copy, orbital control,” said Isaac. “Maintaining course. We look forward to seeing you on station.”

  “Is good. Welcome to Esperanzia.”

  Isaac ended the transmission while his brother leaned back and rested an arm behind his head. “I take it they’re sending us the flight plans?”

  “That’s right,” said Isaac. His brother’s Gaian was spotty, and the creole in the south second quadrant was nothing like the dialects back home in the Oriana Cluster. Isaac still had trouble from time to time, though Gaian was more common toward the New Pleiades. The empire had a lot more interest in maintaining trade ties with that region of the Outworlds.

  The orange-yellow sun shone dimly through the Medea’s forward cockpit window, even without the autotint turned on. The station to which they were bound was locate
d at the trailing Lagrange point of the eighth planet, a major gas giant with thousands of asteroids in tow. Further in toward the habitable zone of the system, a rocky super-Earth boasted a thick atmosphere of mostly carbon dioxide and water vapor, but the surface was rocky and lifeless, though a complex alien ecosystem thrived in the higher altitudes. Most of the system’s colonists made their home on floating platforms, but Isaac had never seen them in person. The asteroid regions were much richer in valuable resources. For that reason, most of Esperanzia’s interstellar trade went through Alahambara Station at the eighth planet.

  “Sure is damn good to hear another voice on the radio,” Aaron muttered. “It feels like we’ve been followed by ghosts ever since Nova Alnilam. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Isaac agreed. He knew exactly what his brother was talking about—he’d felt it, too.

  “Well, hopefully that’ll change soon. You want to check out Elienta this time? I’ll bet we can find a hauling company willing to outsource a load.”

  “I don’t know. It depends how much we can get for our Minitakan grain.”

  “I’ll bet we can sell it for more in the inner system than at Alahambara. Besides, there’s more to starfaring than trade routes and interstellar economics. You’ve got to live a little—meet new people and see the sights. When was the last time you had a girl waiting for you?”

  Isaac chuckled. “You mean besides the girl we’ve got in cryo in our hold? She’s waiting, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”

  An indicator at Isaac’s control panel blinked, cutting the conversation short.

  “Looks like they just transmitted those flight plans. Plug them into the nav-computer and let’s be out of here.”

  “Right,” said Aaron, leaning forward. “But Isaac, you really think they can revive her?”

  “If they can’t, I’m sure they can tell us where to find someone who can. You know what they say: The Outworlds may be vast, but it’s a small universe outside the Coreward Stars.”

  “Yeah. A small universe.”

  Small enough for two boys from Delta Oriana to make it out this far, Isaac thought. As for the people of Nova Alnilam, perhaps the vastness had been too much for them.

  * * * * *

  “Isaac! Aaron! It’s so good to see you. Come here!”

  The short, rotund man with a black beard and long, stringy hair embraced each of them in turn, kissing them on the cheek. Isaac returned the greeting warmly. Even though it had only been a few months since they’d seen each other, the sight of a familiar face had a profound effect on him, especially after the horrors of their last voyage.

  “Hello, Mathusael,” said Aaron, speaking in Deltan. “It sure is good to see you again.”

  “What’s the matter, boys? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Maybe we have,” Isaac muttered. “Maybe we have.”

  A cloud fell across Mathusael’s face, and he squinted his beady eyes at them. “Well, let’s get some refreshments then—my treat. You can tell me all about it over a good stiff round of tonberry cocktails.”

  He led them through the drab, utilitarian corridors of Alahambara Station’s tiny spaceport, past the loading docks for the sublight freighters and the bustling markets that had sprung up like mold in the unfrequented passageways. Asteroid miners wandered in groups of two and three, their faces haggard and their bodies gaunt from long exposure to microgravity. No doubt they were looking for some of the station’s overworked prostitutes or some other form of entertainment to make the most of their time off. He accidently bumped shoulders with one of them and nearly choked from the stench of alcohol on his breath.

  We’d better be careful to keep the girl a secret, Isaac thought to himself. Places like this weren’t safe for young women, especially ones without a home.

  “How’s Esperanzia treating you?” Aaron asked, his eyes wandering as they passed a crowded bar.

  “Not bad,” said Mathusael. “Not bad at all. My wife’s expecting another child—our fourth. Found out she was pregnant just a month after my last leave, so the chances are pretty good it’s mine.” He chuckled good-naturedly.

  “How often do you see her?” Isaac asked.

  “About six months out of every two standard years. It isn’t cheap getting passage sunward, what with all the freight our boys are hauling these days. They’re expanding down on Elienta and need all the raw material they can get. Turning the planet into a proper homeworld.”

  He turned down a narrow side passage and palmed the first door. It hissed open, revealing a small room that was bare except for a tiny kitchenette and a mattress in the corner. Mathusael ushered them in and pulled out three woven mats from one of the wall compartments. After spreading them out on the bare tile floor, he took out a folding table and set it down in the center of the room. Isaac and Aaron took their seats and waited as Mathusael went into the kitchenette.

  “How would you like your drinks?” he asked.

  “I’ll take mine virgin,” said Isaac.

  “Make mine thick and fiery,” said Aaron. “It’s been too long since I had a good Deltan beverage.”

  Mathusael chuckled, while Isaac sighed. Well, at least they weren’t anywhere Aaron could make a fool of himself. At stations like this, Isaac sometimes wondered if it wouldn’t be better to keep his brother on a leash.

  “Have you heard anything from the homeworld?” he asked.

  “Actually, yes,” said Mathusael as the food synthesizer began to hum. “A starfarer by the name of Samson came through not long ago. Said he met a friend at Alpha Oriana who had just come off a trade run to Megiddo Station.”

  “Really?” said Aaron, perking up at once. “What did he say? What’s the news?”

  The look on Mathusael’s face said more than words ever could. In spite of the inevitable, Isaac felt his stomach sink.

  “Not good, I’m afraid. By now, the famine’s no doubt run its course.”

  Aaron’s face reddened, and he clenched his fists. “How do you know that? They’ve been saying that for years. Even before our family left, people were saying it was the end, that everyone was doomed. How do you know it’s true?”

  “Aaron, please—”

  “No, I mean it. How do we know what happened to them? For all we know, the Thetans finally came through and helped them, or one of the other neighboring systems. What’s that we always say about it being a small universe or whatever? And yet everyone just assumes that they’re all—they’re all—”

  Isaac put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. A moment of silence fell over all three of them as Aaron quietly broke down. His eyes red, his lip quivering, he took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands.

  “At least our family got away before the worst happened,” Isaac said softly. “Father, mother, Mariya—they’re safe at Alpha Oriana right now.”

  “I wouldn’t speak so soon,” said Mathusael. He put their glasses on a tray and carried it over, setting it carefully down on the table before them.

  Isaac frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Their old friend sighed and shook his shaggy head. “Nothing but bad news coming out of the Oriana Cluster, I’m afraid. I’ve never known a more bigoted people. That’s why I came out here, where the Outworlds are still free of petty planetism. Even if I have to spend more than a year slaving away at Alahambara just to see my wife for a few months, it’s better than the life I’d have had back there.”

  He leaned forward and took his glass of the thick white juice, lifting it in the air for a toast. Aaron quietly took his, and Isaac did the same. The clinking of their glasses seemed to almost resonate through the cozy little room.

  “To the hidden stars of Earth,” said Mathusael. “May the God of our fathers forever watch over us, strangers wandering far from our celestial home.”

  The news must be really bad, Isaac thought as he took a sip of the pungent cocktail. Mathusael had never been particularly religi
ous, even when they were all still living on Megiddo Station. Growing up, Isaac had always known him as the shaggy-haired bachelor that everyone always whispered about. Their mothers had been close friends, but Mathusael had evaded every attempt to marry him off. When he finally left on a passing starship in his early thirties, Isaac had always assumed it was because he’d gotten fed up with the emphasis on faith and family life at home. Perhaps there’d been some truth in that, but clearly he’d held onto some shred of spirituality to get him through the hard times.

  Which made it all the more troubling to see him invoke that spirituality now.

  “So what’s going on back home?” Isaac asked.

  “Bad news. Very bad news. The Gaian Imperials sent a full battle group out there, and are in the process of annexing Alpha Oriana to the empire.”

  “So?” said Aaron. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s bad about it,” Mathusael said, swinging his heavy frame around to face him. “The Gaians just got through with one of the worst interstellar wars of their history. Rogue AIs, vector viruses, colonies dropped from orbit—it was horrific. And now that it’s over, rumor has it that they’ve set their sights on the Outworlds.”

  Isaac frowned. “What do you mean, ‘set their sights on the Outworlds’?”

  “I mean they’re looking to expand the empire, push the boundaries as far into the Outworlds as they can. What’s happening in the Oriana Cluster is just the beginning. The real prize is the New Pleiades, here in the south second quadrant. Just you wait—before long, their fleets will be headed our way.”

  “That’s—that’s horrible,” said Aaron, his face paling. “Can’t we do something to stop it? Like, warn somebody?”

  Mathusael snorted. “You think the outworlders will pull together to unite against a common enemy? Fat chance of that. If the Thetans and the Alphans wouldn’t do a thing—a damn thing—to save our people from the famine, how do you expect them to unite against the strongest interstellar military force the galaxy has ever seen?” Mathusael sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, boys. Maybe the people of the New Pleiades have the will to stand up to this threat, but the rest of us …”