Tethered Worlds: Unwelcome Star

by Gregory Faccone

"I should've known that move wouldn't go off without some hitch." Breathing heavily, he left "against you" unsaid, but the meaning was obvious.

  "Never had it tried on me before," she said. "But I don't see the staff much." She slipped the stick out from under him.

  Her hunter green eyes were larger than ever, or maybe Jordahk was finally seeing them without having to worry about defending himself. He became aware that his staff was still pressed across her body—that he was still pressed across her body. He rolled off, trying to be Kelvin instead of flustered. Seeing her grin widen, he suspected only partial success.

  He rose to one knee, took a deep breath, and stood. All the while his eyes never left hers. She, of all people, didn't need help getting up, but out of respect for the match and the hope of getting along, he reached a hand down like he would for a sempai at a dojo. A flicker of disdain crossed Glick's face before she schooled it. Then, before anything else could transpire, a sensation went through them, a sort of resonant vibration sensed more than felt.

  They turned instinctively to the window VAD. The cooler blues and purples of manifold space fast became the warmer reds and yellows of entry and exit. The color scape went translucent, and faint distant suns flared. A burst of white streaks scientists had yet to explain filled the view. When they cleared, only the star-strewn black of space remained.

  They had arrived.

  "Drakking hell! Doesn't innocent bystander mean anything to you two?" The data rider was rubbing his scalp with one hand and holding Glick's lost stick in the other.

  All of their heads, only one of which didn't have a growing lump, turned as the stone gym hatch pulled open, framing Aristahl. Performing a springy maneuver that said she had enough energy for another round, Glick was on her feet. She moved smoothly toward the hatch. Scowling at her brother with an air of annoyance, she held out her empty hand. Cranium threw the stick right at her. If flipped end over end before she snagged it out of the air with casual ease.

  She locked hard eyes with Jordahk, who tried to banish any sign of weakness. Still, he wondered where he'd misstepped. While her boring gaze continued, a beep sounded, and both sticks shrank. She crossed her arms, placing one over each wrist.

  Something wet hit Jordahk's hand. He broke the laserlike eye contact to see what it was. Blood. The towel bandage was soaked through.

  "Great."

  "All crew to duty stations," a tired voice announced. Capt. Luck didn't exactly inspire an attitude still described occasionally by the ancient phrase "gung ho."

  Glick still stared at Jordahk in a way he couldn't identify. He took solace in that it wasn't anger. Aristahl moved into the gym, observing in an unobtrusive way honed over centuries. Glick finally broke eye contact and gave Aristahl a slight but respectful nod.

  "Mr. Wilkrest," she said formally, as was the culturally appropriate way to address someone passed vigere. Then she swept out.

  The tableau must have been quite a sight: Glick's laser vision, the data rider's pained namesake, and Jordahk's bloody wrap.

  "Nice to see you're making inroads amongst the crew," Aristahl said.

  His dehydrated delivery left Jordahk wondering if it was humor. Torious trundled in as the buffeted maintenance bot skulked out. The nurse rotated its head to follow the machine through the hatch. Coming around 360 degrees to face forward, it fixed on Jordahk's bloodletting.

  "Laceration with possible concussion," Torious said in a cheery drone. "My day is looking up."

  Immediate action was rarely required when arriving at hill bottom. While the phenomenon of mass distorting space was useful for detection, as far as MDHD drive was concerned, ships had to drop out of manifold space hours from planetary bodies. The larger the ship, the bigger the MDHD field, and the farther out they dropped.

  The key to downhill drive was the starkeel, a thick beam of metal running the length of any spaceship wanting to be a starship. Its noble metal composition was more than half platinum group. On civilian ships, it was almost always the most expensive component. The cost of a quality starkeel outstripped even the teslanium fission reactor that powered it. The best starkeels used liberal amounts of the newest and rarest platinum group metal, numenium.

  While Sojourners didn't invent the starkeel, ones made in their mystic foundries were superior in every regard. Any Sojourner-laid starkeel had value beyond the life of its original ship. Often, new ships were built around salvaged Sojourner starkeels. One laid for a prewar freighter would be valued for warship use by any current starmada.

  The Monte Crest's starkeel wasn't Sojourner-laid, nor even constructed with the aid of an imprimatur. It was straight scientum technology, and not the best at that. The in-system patroller was a lowest bid asset. Although Capt. Luck and his crew modified the ship, no one messed with a starkeel. The metal beam did well if it brought them within five hours of an average sized planet.

  So unless their stop was a space station or low mass body, Jordahk couldn't understand the apparent haste in everyone's actions. He stepped out of his cabin freshened and ready to go. Only a slight headache and a fading ridge along his head bore witness to his recent contusion. He rubbed it. As annoying as Torious was, he was an exceptionally good nurse.

  Down the corridor, Aristahl approached with measured gait and predictably impeccable timing. Cranium trotted to intercept them.

  "Thought we'd have hours of approach," Jordahk said.

  "This is an empty system." Cranium shrugged. "That's if it even qualifies as one."

  "Not quite empty," Aristahl said. His statement was matter-of-fact and gave little away.

  "A stop to muddy the waters or throw off pursuit?" Jordahk asked.

  The three walked toward the bridge in silence. Even Cranium listened. The old man seemed to weigh more than just the answer. The burden melted into the imprimatur's implacable façade. He reached absently into one of his coat's many inner pockets and pulled out a ring. He tossed it nonchalantly to Jordahk.

  "No, this is our first stop."

  Jordahk exchanged looks with Cranium as he inspected the ring. "Max, how are you doing?"

  Barrister answered, "The thresh cylinder was unsalvageable, but I managed to save most of the match histories. Although Maximilian lost a few cycles off the top, I have rerouted to compensate, but there is a small amount of permanent damage due to his thresh stunt."

  "Forget that noise, kid. Gives me character," Max said in his usual gruff tone. "Something Mr. Prim-and-perfect wouldn't understand."

  Apparently Max passed his final checkup. Between Torious for the body and Barrister for computers, there was little for which Aristahl was unprepared. Jordahk thought if he just added a famed grease monkey maintenance bot to his entourage for machines, he would have every angle covered. It would also make a great cast for a comedic epiVAD. They could call it, "Mr. Sempai and his Mechanical Retinue."

  "I leave you alone for a few hours, and you get your brain concussed?" Max admonished.

  "I kind of envy that," Cranium said. "Your Max has a rich, old personality you've built upon. The mods I made to Ralston left him with little personality, and Razor has none."

  "Max, why can't you be more like Ralston?"

  "Shaddup."

  Jordahk smirked. Culturally, people didn't countenance subordination from their AIs, but he did set that one up for Max. He slipped the compy back on his finger.

  The three approached the hatch to the bridge, the most secure on a spaceship. Since leaving manifold space, the ship was on alert status, and Cranium sub-whispered security protocols for entry. Before he finished the hatch slid open as if it was to the crewroom, and the three crossed without breaking stride. Cranium spied the betraying portal as they passed and scrunched his eyes in consternation.

  "Do try to not embarrass the crew, Barrister," Aristahl said. "The data rider is just seeking to do his job."

  "Of course, sir," the AI answered halfheartedly.

  The bridge of a warship was often buried well within. All pano
ramas necessary for the psychological well-being of humans were simulated flawlessly with viewports. The Monte Crest was laid a police ship. Its bridge was near the surface, although armored. Meter tall panes of transparent crystal ran three-quarters of the way around. An additional meter below the panes augmented the field of vision with active surface viewports, so most of the bulkhead's height showed starry space.

  A few misguided shipwrights designed military vessels uncomfortable on purpose. Their reasoning was that an uncomfortable crew stayed more alert. Many—usually those who served on such ships—found that reasoning flawed. The Monte Crest's bridge was not of that school. It was designed to house law enforcement officers comfortably as they wiled away countless boring hours. The oversized crew chairs were self-adjusting and fully variable. Cranium took his at the data rider's station.

  "Working today?" Chaetan said.

  The big man sat at engineering, the largest emplacement. Despite its numerous VADs, it had twice the physical controls. Hard controls had a real and sure quality.

  Capt. Luck reclined at the darkened rear area of the bridge. Slightly raised, it was clearly the place for the person in charge, but the malaise of that person infected the atmosphere of the entire chamber.

  Glick glided past Jordahk in a fresh smelling breeze. The woman was eerily silent. That was the second time today one of the siblings had sneaked up on him. She was back in a tight-fitting tank top and loose military pants. She wore a bracer and two armored wrist guards housing the painfully familiar metal rods.

  The fearsome grister on her hip reminded Jordahk of his father. Best not to dwell on that. The mysterious metal bird also hung on her belt. He liked everything about mystic technology except using it. He wanted to examine that old device.

  Chaetan offered no snarky comment as Glick manned the security station. In fact, he found something to do in the opposite direction.

  "Okay, what's out there?" Capt. Luck said to her.

  Readouts were repeated at the captain's station, but specialists who knew their job were able to tweak systems and interpret more relevant information. On some missions that could make the difference between success and failure, profit or loss, life or death.

  Glick projected competency as she touched a few physical controls, but interacted primarily with VADs. She glistened with that "just swirled" phenomena, accenting her muscle tone. The VAD light, Jordahk noticed, also accented the myriad of points of her sharp, feathered hair.

  "Nothing. No one... for light years," she said.

  A detensor observed real-time distortions in the fabric of space caused by mass and energy. The fabric was like a taut spiderweb. Put a finger on it, and disturbances could be detected immediately. The detensor was that finger.

  Movement through manifold space was easy to detect, as were teslanium fission reactors. Greater disturbances could be detected from greater distances. Fusion reactors lit detensors up like a beacon, and suns could be detected even within the haze of manifold space.

  "Literally nothing," the data rider said. "No traffic at all. This place is nowhere."

  No nebula or gas clouds colored this region of space. It was as dull as the dim star at the center of a system whose only features were a few asteroid belts.

  "A weak, pulsating dwarf on its last legs," Cranium said. "Hardly a rock out there better than an asteroid."

  Glick ran through all the checks with diligence. "I need more penetration on the nearby belt."

  "There's nothing there to see." Cranium tuned controls. "That's about all I can get."

  "Come on, Clutch, give me more metals at least."

  The data rider's station was the most customized. More VADs floated around Cranium than Jordahk thought strictly necessary. Without a local civilization's ships, stations, or information nexus, most of the VADs were empty. Cranium's hands danced anew. He checked the crew locations.

  "Chaetan, depower the grav weaves on deck three."

  "What? It's just rocks," the engineer grumbled.

  Jordahk looked at Aristahl who stood impassively, but with eyes sharp. He undoubtedly knew what was out there, but for whatever reason let this play out. Apparently, everyone was being tested, perhaps even whomever they were there to find.

  "Bring the rest on starboard to half power," the data rider continued.

  It would be a bit of a hassle for the engineer, and he glared across the bridge rather stubbornly. Both siblings met his gaze simultaneously.

  "Just do it," Cranium said.

  The captain said nothing, and the engineer made reluctant adjustments. He opened a comm to those whose gravity was about to change. "Going half-G for a few minutes."

  Jordahk sat at an unoccupied station and palmed it to initiate with resonance transmission. "Max, bring up their scans."

  A VAD appeared showing everything they saw in-system: the slightly strange dwarf star and a bunch of rocks whose metal content was trickling in as Cranium modified systems. More details blinked on where Glick focused. It would take a while to find anything significant, and that was assuming anything significant was there to be found.

  "If I may, captain," Aristahl said. Longwei Luck nodded, and the imprimatur said, "Barrister."

  A trickle of activity came alive at everyone's station. The ship reoriented crisply to focus on a distant rocky area. The data rider threw up his hands and shook his head. He glanced back at his two clients.

  "Is that really necessary?"

  Jordahk couldn't suppress a smirk. Activity switched to comm systems. Frequencies close to background radiation were displayed. Nothing of significance showed.

  "You can go audible, Barrister," Aristahl said.

  "I cannot detect the facility with this equipment and position."

  "And nothing on the background freqs?"

  "Nothing, sir."

  "Hmm, went completely dark," Aristahl mused. "Well, it has been a while. But I think we have the timing just about right."

  Sounding a bit like a timid schoolchild reluctant to correct an old teacher, Cranium spoke. "If there's something out there, Mr. Wilkrest, perhaps a rough vector?"

  Aristahl seemed distracted. "Hmm, yes." He closed his eyes.

  Jordahk was about to become a little embarrassed for him. Then a strange feeling tingled his consciousness. It was unexplainable, yet familiar. And just as fast, it was gone. Aristahl opened his eyes and pointed to a spot on the bulkhead near the hatch.

  The response around the bridge was silence, and a few exchanged glances.

  Aristahl ignored them. "A window please, Barrister."

  A large VAD appeared before Aristahl's outstretched finger. Barrister used the ship's external eyes to create a view into the space beyond as if the ship wasn't there. It showed black bisected by an asteroid belt. Aristahl pushed the VAD, and it responded to his touch as if a physical thing. He centered it on a clump of rocks and swung his hand in a vague circle.

  "For expediency, take a closer look in this area. Send some vectors over, Barrister."

  "No need," Cranium said. He slaved the VAD to his station and was already working. Octals, even former octals, hated being shown up.

  The ship re-angled the temporarily enhanced scanning arrays. The crew assumed they were searching for something, or someone, hidden. As scrutiny closed the distance, hiding was increasingly difficult.

  "Might be something there," Glick said. "I don't know. A rock out there insists it's nothing special, yet I'm having a hard time penetrating."

  She observed Aristahl. He was displaying an academic interest. She glanced down to the metal avian at her belt.

  "Clutch, just give me the platinum group metals."

  "We're not a smelting mining scout. I can't just configure that way."

  The bridge was silent for a moment while Glick knit her brows at the mystery.

  "Space nuts," Chaetan mumbled.

  During the war one didn't go about mumbling such things if a Sojourner might hear. Since they strode in circumstances that s
tretched the mind, a certain sensitivity to "mental stability" remarks occasionally surfaced. Unthinking types like Chaetan found themselves sorely regretting a derogatory tongue. But those days were 200 years past. Aristahl was the only one present who remembered, and he showed no reaction.

  A strange dynamic was developing. Jordahk was no expert, but he knew dysfunction when he saw it. This was usually where a captain stepped in and reprimanded his unruly yet talented crew. At least that was the way it happened in epiVADs. Capt. Luck remained quiet.

  Glick leaned toward Cranium. "Just give me palladium. I've got an idea."

  Palladium was the chief platinum group metal Sojourners used in areas of medical technology. It was also instrumental for mystic suspension methods like juvi sleep.

  A spark lit in Cranium's eye as he worked. The request was a challenge. Octals were masters of jury-rigging and cobbled contraptions. Only fools took such devices lightly. VADs blinked on. He fine-tuned grav weave controls to interfere least with resonance frequencies associated with palladium.

  As the ship edged closer, Aristahl walked to the front of the bridge and stared at the area in question. He didn't move as the moments ticked by. Jordahk thought it strange even for Aristahl, and that was saying something.

  The man had lived in the prewar era of enlightenment. He later saw the trials and heroics of the Sojourners' Crusade, where a system's fate could rest on the outcome of one battle. But his interest here was more personal.

  Jordahk wondered not for the first time about his role. Why am I here?

  Aristahl turned to stare straight into his eyes, startling him. Aristahl had an incredible ability to peer through someone's surface. It was disconcerting. Jordahk approached to the crystal panes and stood beside his grandfather.

  Aristahl gazed upon empty space. "Things change. Even this place was different when I first saw it."

  Jordahk surveyed skeptically. It may have been different, but he doubted it ever amounted to much.

  "You have questions," Aristahl said.

  "Are my thoughts that transparent?"

  Aristahl gave him a wan smile, but one without joy. Finally on the doorstep of some revelations, Jordahk found himself apprehensive and dry-mouthed. He knew so little about his paternal family line despite requests. Up to now he only wanted to know. Circumstances made him suspect he now needed to know.