Interstellar Starpilots

by F Stephan

  A loudspeaker began a call to prayer, the sound ringing in the street. “We shall return to our Origin time after time. Here the Ancient fell, and our most sacred temple is their last testimony. When the Federation falls again, when the nanites eat you as they did before, when the world falls around you, this is where we will gather against the tide.” People began to change as the man continued preaching. More and more, they ignored Emily and Leandra entirely, absorbed by the call to prayer. “Come and pray. Come and repent the sins of your ancestors. Come and think of what you’re doing today to avoid them.”

  After a few minutes of anxious trekking, they reached the edge of the water, an ancient port dominated by a truly huge industrial building. It was three floors up and could open its outward-facing door to let a medium-size boat come inside. Its facade was decrepit, and it would have seemed abandoned if not for the light illuminating the different floors. In front of it, a crowd sat, listening to a priest. Emily and her small group went around the gathering, moving determinedly toward the harbor. People were looking at them again. A spark and they turn on us. Don’t look at them, just walk. Don’t defy, don’t threaten. She had had to face such crowds before her father rescued her. Hand in hand with the security officer on her left, she could do it again.

  At last, they reached her boat, and relief washed over Emily. Her bodyguard turned toward her. “Please, your boat is on the first wharf, my lady. We wouldn’t want you to miss it. We apologize for our fellow citizens and would like to caution you to be more careful next time.”

  She bowed in return. “Thank you, sir. My apologies.”

  “No worries, Pilot. It happens from time to time. This is why we have security here.”

  Leandra, still out of breath, inquired, “Why does the Origin have such a hold here?”

  “You’ve crossed the suburbs where all our sea farm crews live. Hard lot, hard life, and easy access to weed and alcohol. The Origin Cult is a good influence by day and we’re working with them closely. But at night, things are . . .” The man’s voice trailed off before he concluded, “complicated. Now, young Pilot, if we may, we will take the ambassador back to her own boat.” He smiled at her, not as condescendingly as she had feared. Then a thought struck her. They had brought the pilot back first. Not the ambassador . . .

  Lapren

  Ullem, 2140 AD, December

  Archbishop Lapren sat nervously at his desk, in the basement of the Origin compound. He had moved his office there after his last encounter with the Other’s agent. He was sweating as well, something unusual for him, something he thoroughly hated. In front of him, the young priest who had been working silently for the last five minutes looked up at last from his mobile console and spoke in the Adheeken dialect they used on those occasions. It was seldom spoken and not recorded in the Core Data Sphere. Their conversation would remain private, at least for a while.

  “No electromagnetic transmission originating from here, no electronic devices, no nanites in the air. Your office is clean, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Neht.” His secretary was one of the very few people with whom Lapren spoke in his normal voice. No solemnity. No sweet syrupy tone. He had never been able to have a child, never had time to raise one, and his close staff had become important for him over the years. “I appreciate your efforts. We shall be on our way back home within a few days.”

  “We aren’t going to Baol?” Surprise made Neht look up from his console again.

  “Not this time. Please take all the time until then as vacation.” Then, he added, with empathy showing, “Is there a place you wanted to visit?”

  “Your Grace, yes.” Neht was always very restrained, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed both his youth and his curiosity. “I’ve been most moved by your sermon on the failure of the Ullemite resurrection. I’d like to see more of it, the elevator especially, for concrete examples of their prophet and his failure.”

  Lapren thought for a moment. A thousand klicks from the temple rose the remnants of the star elevator, twin to the one on Alkath. During the rebellion, atomic charges had destroyed its base and some of the cables had crashed, creating an immense canyon. He took a deeper voice, reflecting on the size of the place. “It’s impressive enough, but once you’ve seen it, I’d suggest you go one hundred klicks north in the Resurrection Desert. Ask our prelates here for the exact coordinates of the memorial, I’ve forgotten them.” Lapren took a piece of paper from the stack of scrap paper and wrote a few sentences before handing it to his assistant. “I saw it years ago, and I remember it still. The Prophet was researching nanites there. But, they began creating horrors. To stop it, the Prophet and his followers vitrified the desert with a small fusion bomb. This is where all the trouble with the nanites began in Ullem. This is what makes it the best planet for us in this sector. You’ll understand when you reach the place. Tell me when we meet again in a few days.”

  Neht took the paper, bowed his head, and left the office, giving the archbishop time to regain his composure before his next meeting. Ten minutes to go. He took some time to tune up the mechanical clock on the side of the small room. Then, he tidied up his desk, checking the stack of papers and trying to read some of his newspaper. Last, at the convened hour, he went to the door and opened it.

  “Come in, sister Shadow, come in,” he greeted his newcomer with false good humor. She was petite, with her sunburned face barely visible under her gray cloak. She moved swiftly inside, and he closed the door behind her. Sweat was forming again on his forehead. It had been a long time since he had exposed himself so directly. Go, Lapren, he mumbled to himself. It’s your last chance. He took a few steps to return to the side of his desk. “You’re from our Action Branch?”

  She nodded, her face a stone mask. Lapren remained standing. If I sit, I’ll shiver. Keep moving.

  “The Origin needs you for a sacred mission. Utmost secrecy will be required.” He tried to put all his charisma into those words. She only nodded, showing no emotion in reaction. Lapren moved to the side and opened a hidden safe, removing the small sealed briefcase from it.

  “We’ve arranged a passage for you to Dupner, a planet of liars. They say they live a low-tech life while doing secret research on the worst nanites ever found. This information has cost a life among our Faithful.” She continued to nod, taking in the information. “Once you arrive, you’ll take the train to the research facility in the city of Nozap in the jungle. You’ll not contact any of our churches to avoid endangering them. They’re already too exposed. As soon as you can, you’ll detonate this briefcase close to a grain silo close by. For this, you need a small discharge; you can build it with agricultural fertilizer. Nothing more powerful than that. All the wrongness of their research will become visible when reacting with the content of this box. This will allow us to warn everyone about their deception.”

  For the first time since her arrival, she spoke, her voice a surprising light soprano. “How dangerous is it?”

  He would be honest. “Some. It will create some havoc for a while, and we will use it to highlight those dangers. But nothing more than that, I assure you. And it will save so many lives.” Reassure her. She doesn’t look convinced. “Sister Shadow? You were a student at the Madoul Academy on Neuroscience, weren’t you? You saw what horror they released? The same thing is brewing on Dupner. We need you to do this to save citizens.”

  She reflected for a few long minutes, looking intently at him. Her past made a compelling case for her to accept this job without too many questions.

  “You have a flight ready in a few weeks. You’ll mingle with the traders until then to become one of them. You’ll take the next return flight and you’ll report to Volpre station thereafter. You’ll have all you want at that time.”

  At last, she accepted his words, took the briefcase, and quickly left the room. He had received the device a week before through an anonymous courier who had disappeared as soon as he had delivered his package. That’s it, I’ve dammed myself again
. He spent the remainder of the night praying for the souls of all on Dupner and for his own.

  Brian

  Alkath orbit, 2140 AD, December

  It was late, and the sun was setting over the horizon. Brian discreetly left his room to move up to the rooftop. After his failure from the previous week, he didn’t want to run into any of the east wing students. He hurried in the empty corridor while everyone was in the cafeteria.

  “There, I found you.” Brian turned, hearing Poulem’s voice. In the evening light, her skin took on a copper shine. She looked slender and beautiful in her uniform. She arrived from the main stairs, carrying a small box in her hands. “Alvam was worried, not seeing you again tonight. Regular meals are important, you know. He picked everything for you and asked me to bring it to you. He thought it would be less conspicuous.” Her care was obvious. “I’m sorry again for how they behave.” Brian heard her sincerity. He had chickened out of trying to walk through the fire again and he was ashamed of it. Yet, he couldn’t forgive the nicknames that had fused since then.

  “Thank you,” he said quickly, grabbing the box.

  She bowed her head. “Eat in peace. I won’t trouble you any more.”

  A few minutes later, Brian reached the rooftop and greeted the giant gulzari and his family. The birds were all eating and barely looked at him exiting the roof trap. He took out a fork and opened his box, humming to the weeds. Alvam always found a way to send him food, which he usually ate quietly in his room. Tonight, he wanted a bit of fresh air. He had gotten used to the iodine odor that perfumed every dish on this planet and alarmed his nostrils. He showed the food to the bird. “Not really appetizing, don’t you think?”

  The bird looked at the food and brusquely got berserk. He attacked Brian in a flash of wings, yanking the box from his grasp and sending it flying. Brian fell backward, closed his eyes and, in a reflex, activated his nanites.

  The gulzaris blaze with nanites in them. How could I have missed this? I move back, and he doesn’t follow. He’s attacking the box, not me. What’s the . . . ?

  Brian was stunned back out of his trance. A red cloud of nanorobots was moving all around the box. The male gulzari was attacking it, destroying the nanites piece by piece. Once he had cleaned most of the air, he flung the box far away from the building in a single stroke of his long beak before retreating to protect his youngsters. Brian flew to the trap door and left the rooftop in a rush. He climbed down a different flight of stairs and ran outside. He briefly activated his nanites again, tracked where the box had landed, and rushed to grab it. A few red nanites were still present, and he quickly closed it to capture them.

  Got you, he thought while taking deep breaths. Where to? Headmistress? Not trusting anyone with this, he headed for the solitary observatory and his mentor and rushed inside.

  “Brian, what’s the matter, boy? You don’t dash into an old man’s house like that. You could give me a heart attack.” Master Loupiac, floating in large yellow pajama, was on his couch looking at the stars in a gigantic 3-D.

  “Sir, I need your help. This is serious.” Brian held the box out to his teacher, panting. “You need to look at what’s inside with your nanite vision and tell me what this is.”

  “You know, I must restrict . . .”

  “Loupiac, sir, please, this is vital!” Brian was so upset his mentor took a step back and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his movements were more precise, his posture more assured. He had ceased trembling. He took the box firmly in his hands, opened it, and in shock dropped it. Brian quickly grabbed it and closed it again.

  Loupiac had fallen to the floor and was now shaking uncontrollably. Brian cradled him in his arms until the older man quieted down. “Where does this horror come from?”

  Brian quickly recounted how the box was delivered and the gulzari’s reaction. The old man struggled to his couch and closed his eyes for a minute before speaking again.

  “When the Ancient civilization fell here, they left mad nanites. The gulzaris fought them and won, with great pains. They have a deeper knowledge of these nanites than we do. That’s why the gulzari reacted that way. You’ve heard of the nanites on Ullem. The ones in this box are remarkably like them but seem more refined, more evolved.”

  “What do they do?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Loupiac’s voice was getting clearer by the minute. “You did tell me your ambassador had planned a trip to the station for you, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because you’re going there tomorrow at dawn. You’ll stay up in the sky until I call you back down here. I’ve got some inquiries to make. Don’t move unless you’re cleared to by me.”

  “But, I can’t leave like this. What will Mistress Roul’al’namer say?”

  “She’ll be delighted to send you on an errand for me. She owes me a service or two, after all these years. You’ll fetch me some medicine I’m expecting from Madoul. There’s also a small university compound where you can finish your exams.”

  “And Emily?”

  “She’ll join you in a week. You can live without her until then and she doesn’t seem to be in danger yet. Just don’t tell her about this until she’s up there. No communication of any kind by electronics. Assume your communications are monitored.”

  “Aren’t you getting a bit paranoid, Loupiac?” Brian was worried.

  “No. But you should be. You’ve been attacked, Brian, poisoned. Those nanites were making you unstable and dangerous. When in space, you were out of reach and that’s why you could use your own nanites. Of that, I’m fairly sure.” Loupiac poured himself a drink and swallowed it quickly. “Boy, you’ve built a good resistance, for whatever reasons of your own. Your planet, your adventure last year. Most would have died already or been rendered mad.”

  “What do I do now?” Understanding was beginning to dawn on him.

  Loupiac took his arm and led him to the couch. “Close your eyes and rest. I’m taking over, boy. I’m old but I can still do at least that.”

  Brian was snoring on the couch a few minutes later. Loupiac didn’t bother with his landline. Against all prohibitions, he activated his nanites again and sent a message to the spymistress into the night through the network with the heaviest encryption he was capable of. She would take care of the rest. Silently, he laughed. “Heikert, where do you find them?” He had lied to the boy, had seen those nanites before, in the wreckage of a ship. He brought up old images from his console and quickly confirmed the ship was the one that had attacked Nellym, Master Heikert’s wife. Weird, weird, too weird.

  Leandra

  Alkath, 2140 AD, December

  For the appointment, planned for weeks now, Leandra had been invited close to the top of the cliff. The little café was close to the Federation council chamber and overlooked the entire archipelago. It was still early, but the rising sun bathed the place in a surreal greenish light. Below, the gulzaris were taking off one after another, spreading their giant wings and calling to each other. Each circled the island two times before taking off for the deep sea where they fished. Leandra had stopped when she reached the vistas to watch them in fascination. Today, she wore a traditional blue and red Indian sari. It was early enough that she didn’t need to wear a hat but had chosen to leave her curly hair loose, enjoying the light breeze. She took in the sights one last time, and then moved inside the café, passing two burly men who guarded the entrance. Surprisingly, the whole rear had large windows. The attaché sat in front of one of them. She wore a long white gown, which contrasted starkly with her dark hair in the morning sun. This is a Greek goddess, thought Leandra before shaking off the absurd notion. They were hundreds of light years away from Earth.

  “Good morning, Ambassador. Will you join me?” Even indicated the chair opposite hers. Her voice was gentle and caring. Leandra shook herself and stepped in.

  “Thank you, Attaché, for agreeing to meet me. I know your agenda is a nightmare.” Leandra had been fighting for weeks t
o get the appointment.

  “Please. My apologies for not meeting you earlier. But this meeting will prove worthy indeed. Would you like to share your concerns with me?”

  “My lady, I’m not making any progress. I’m meeting nice people, but they say no to every request, suggestion, or idea. I’m not sending any help home to Earth. The Federation isn’t helping. How can I improve the situation?”

  Even looked at her like a sad mother. “I’m afraid you can’t do much more than what you’re doing. You need more bargaining power. Only pilots or Ancient artifacts will grant you some. You don’t have a single artifact yet, and there are doubts about your pilot’s abilities.”

  “But this is worse than that. I can’t connect with the people I meet.”

  Even continued her explanation. “You yourself do not have any nanites, while most of the other ambassadors have some. Did you know that more than half of them are former pilots? No wonder you can’t connect. You’ll need a pilot to help you with this.”

  After months of rebukes and failures, a dam broke inside Leandra. “Sure, one is an unstable genius who will soon be excluded. And the other, more stable one is clearly doing this only out of obligation and doesn’t want to be a pilot.”

  Even looked at her for a long moment before answering. “Interesting that we should meet at this date and time. Please, Mistress Ambassador, share a pastry and a weed juice with me.” A waiter placed before Leandra a greenish glass along with a dish of sweets. The color was absurd, but the drink tasted excellent. Leandra sipped it to regain composure. “There are new elements I’ve learned this very night that I need to disclose to you. But our conversation will need to remain secret for now.”