Tethered Worlds: Unwelcome Star

by Gregory Faccone

  They spent weeks together, but Jordahk hardly remembered them. As was typical when receiving a link, memory from about a week before through a couple after was scrambled. He knew the mystic link was specially made for his family line. Likely the one his father would have used had things turned out differently.

  As the mission progressed, Jordahk recalled more flashes of memory from that trip. The asteroids sparked one of an peculiar old man. What was his name? And the silhouette of a girl with flowing black hair suspended in water. He thought it best not to ask Aristahl about these things. Was he supposed to remember? Were the memories even real?

  Barrister backed off. Glick worked the hard-panel, and the AI floated additional helpful controls.

  "This field's oddly turbulent." Glick shook her head. "I hope this trip's worth it."

  A series of pressure-sensitive controls elevated off the panel. She pressed down hard. Everyone but her lurched forward as the ship slowed dramatically.

  The approaching tangle of asteroids grew large in the canopy. It was Barrister's VAD come to life in all its dangerous reality. Beneath the earthy blondes and browns of Glick's pointy bob ran a glistening bead of perspiration.

  They traversed the largest of the system's belts, its center more chaotic than calculated. Asteroids streaked by as the Roulette yawed to port. Jordahk felt his stomach surge again. He felt queasy and started sweating. Fully functional grav weaves overrode most inertial forces. These grav weaves were far from their peak days.

  Jordahk took deep breaths. "Smelting space sickness," he grumbled. Only Aristahl and Torious noticed. They knew of his condition, and for now, were unable to do anything about it.

  The genetic removal of the tendency toward motion sickness was common to every genewash package. It was in the one Jordahk received not long after birth, but with some people, certain tendencies "grew back." The world of proto-genetics was an incomplete science, and the quantum fields of the brain were hardly understood. The Sojourners journeyed into those areas with some success and a few notable failures. That knowledge was now scattered among disparate cords of Sojourner culture.

  For Jordahk it meant every couple of years his tendency to get variable G sick returned. His father was also susceptible. Kord joked once that it was a "lesser price" attached to their family line. Jordahk didn't want to know what a greater price might be. Without a genewash booster, or a partial ravelen Aristahl called "a realignment," the best that could be done was pharma.

  Jordahk reached for his bag. "The LuciDram, Max."

  His AI raised a small ceramic cylinder. Touch revealed three doses remaining. He put it to his neck, leaving behind a small blue circle that faded into his skin. LuciDram was getting harder to find. The genewash made it more or less unnecessary, so demand was minimal.

  "Max, keep an eye out for a supplier at next planetfall."

  If Aristahl suffered from the same condition, he never showed any evidence. Jordahk's symptoms eased, and not a moment too soon.

  Moving forward with bow pointed port, the Roulette waited for two large asteroids to cross. Then it put on a burst of speed, maneuvering an "S" trajectory. They passed near one of the largest asteroids. Their presence interrupted some delicate balance. A chain reaction of smaller impacts led to a flash on Barrister's display. They spied the corresponding spot in space.

  An oblong asteroid, larger than their ship, tumbled silently into the behemoth above. Chunks scattered. A collision alarm sounded as Barrister brought course change options before Glick.

  "No. No! Yes, that one," she said. "This field sucks hydrogen!"

  The Roulette rolled 90 degrees before plasma jetted out its thrust rings. Jordahk heard capacity flow. It wasn't the most insulated ship. His restraints flexed, but did little to keep his stomach in place. If not for the LuciDram, its contents would have been embarrassingly dislodged.

  A loud clanking crunch accompanied a shutter felt through the deck. Glick mumbled fiercely.

  Jordahk brought up a shield schematic as a cacophony of lesser clanks continued. "Max, those temperature readouts right?"

  "Yep. Shields about as cool as you can get and still be called 'warm plasma.' Especially engine two side."

  Like the conforming cold plasma field of a bracer, warm plasma shields blocked radiation, a necessity for space. The higher temperature also made it viscous enough to absorb physical impacts. Warships used hot plasma and wouldn't even have felt the collision. However, the temperature range considered "warm" was broad, and the Roulette was at its bottom. Magnetic shield controllers shaped the plasma to the hull to maximize strength and efficiency. Jordahk was grateful for that as they careened past a large rock close enough to touch.

  Multiple alarms sounded. A flashing iris was closing along their VAD flight path.

  "I see it, I see it. Space me to the Ajurian Realm!" Glick said. "Roll us another ninety and adjust that damn entry vector."

  Plasma jetted into space as the conduits roared. The ship lumbered through a complex maneuver. Glick watched the VAD carefully. The instant their vector lined up with the collapsing iris, she pressed down hard on the main engine control.

  Jordahk was pushed back into his seat as the Roulette lurched forward, then continued to accelerate. They reached a speed that made him uncomfortable in the maelstrom.

  Smaller impacts couldn't be avoided as they raced toward the closing iris. The Roulette felt hollow and thin-skinned. With one last groan along the hull, they burst through to a comparatively quiet section of the field.

  Glick tapped a control, and the Roulette slowed. She stood and ran a hand through her damp hair.

  "Thanks for the alternates," she said grudgingly to the mystic AI. "You get the next one." She turned to leave.

  Her eyes met Jordahk's, and her brows rose skeptically. He must be quite a sight colored with the unmistakable pallor of nausea. He expected a wisecrack. Instead, an unreadable expression crossed her face similar to the one he'd seen in the stone gym. Then it was gone, and she was at the slow grinding hatch. She palm struck the the frame. The grinding reduced, and the door's speed increased fractionally. When it was open just enough, she slipped through.

  The Roulette was in close formation with an asteroid many times its size. In the grand scheme of the belt, that still made the rock quite average. It was pocked like its neighbors, but none were fresh, a fact easily overlooked unless the last few hours were spent scanning every inch.

  Aristahl was convinced he had found the main entrance, but it was unresponsive to signal or physical manipulation by bot. As a last resort, and over the objections of everyone, Aristahl went out in the rickety spacesuit and palmed the area to initiate resonance transmission. After many moments of nothing, he returned. Aristahl did not show much emotion, but Jordahk was sure he spotted a trace of annoyance or worry on his face.

  On the opposite side of the asteroid Aristahl ordered a maintenance bot to drill.

  "There should be a back door. It is good to have an escape plan."

  Such a statement engendered questions. Jordahk had a growing list. He had experienced even more déjà vu since arriving at this unassuming speck of space.

  "Who needs to escape?"

  "And from what?" Glick added.

  The questions were treated as rhetorical by the old man. Glick bore the non-answer with a combination of professionalism and discipline. She exuded her usual uncaring confidence and readiness for anything, or nothing.

  Aristahl's presence encouraged patience. It was rewarded when the bot struck concealed metal. In another hour it revealed a small hatch and the corner of a much larger one. Repeated attempts to activate the small hatch failed. Everything on the rock was insistently inert. While they could have forced a seal, Aristahl became increasingly convinced they would have to blow the hatch. It was best to be clear.

  The hatch was longchain reinforced; high level work, too. Glick ran her hand along it appraisingly. She and Aristahl set explosives. What Glick had brought wasn't suited
to penetrate, so Aristahl supplemented with a seeker drone pulled from his bag. If it was like the little iridium gems used on Adams Rush, even this hatch wouldn't be able to hold up.

  Aristahl maintained resonance contact with the hatch during set-up to ensure nothing unexpected occurred. Jordahk could imagine many unfortunate possibilities, but not the why's.

  In a few moments they all returned to the bridge to observe the detonation area from a safe distance. Curiosity had overtaken Glick. She was no longer on some onerous duty. Interest softened the defensive spikes of her personality. Jordahk liked it, turning away more than once when she noticed his glances. First-hand experience had already confirmed her toughness. He respected that, along with her competence. But as her shields lowered, he found more to appreciate.

  She caught him looking again. "Something wrong?"

  "Ah." Jordahk was at a loss for words. "No?"

  She did not chew him out. "Then you better keep eyes forward. This may require more than a fancy staff twirl." She broke out the subtle half grin before gazing back outward.

  Jordahk wondered whether she actually enjoyed his attention. After that, he did need to concentrate on the mission.

  "Max," he sub-whispered, "can you turn the suit cooling up a bit?"

  "Sure, kid."

  Was it possible for an AI to snicker?

  Barrister counted down, and an explosion lit the bridge. Glick's conventional explosives shattered the nearby rock while a sphere of superheated iridium plasma stayed centered on the hatch. A second later, the entire area blew outward, launching shards of metal and rock with destructive force.

  "Sir," Barrister pleaded, "I implore you to use caution in this so-called spacesuit."

  The mystic AI probably thought it generous even using that term. Jordahk listened through Max while approaching the newly created breach. His simple maneuver pack fired. He knew how to spacewalk; it was one of the many skills his parents instilled. The silence, though, punctuated only by the pack's spurts, required more getting used to. It heightened the vastness of space, even within the asteroid belt.

  The maintenance bot dehorned sharp protrusions to protect their suits. Still, Jordahk would feel better when they were behind one—make that two—airlocks. In front of him, light and shadow danced around Glick as she slipped through. Performing the maneuver without even putting hands out, she landed on the deck with a graceful half turn. A clumsier minute, later Jordahk touched down.

  It was a long airlock, more like an alternate entrance than an escape hatch. Jordahk's suit lights activated. Farther down, illumination from Aristahl and the maintenance bot showed a hatch. Suit lights were poor illumination in a vacuum. Without diffusion, light and dark cut sharp lines with little scatter.

  Jordahk's mag boots managed a tenuous grip on the deck plating. Like everything else about this place, the grav weaves were depowered. New light from behind cast his shadow forward. Torious made an exceedingly ungraceful landing through the entrance.

  "Certainly this goes beyond my specifications," the nurse grumbled. "Now I make house calls to abandoned lumps in distant space?" Jordahk thought it another plausible plot for an epiVAD.

  To their left, through a long crystal pane that ran the length of the airlock, a docking bay attached to the larger outer hatch was just visible. Suit lights weren't up to illuminating the dark interior. Jordahk made out the silhouette of an old ship clamped in stony silence. It was larger than a courier, perhaps scout class. No more details were forthcoming.

  Aristahl navigated unerringly past an inert mining bot despite poor lighting. "Watch its arms."

  Rock dust indicated the bot was probably used for camouflaging stonework outside. Jordahk paid careful attention, not wanting to risk his suit in any way on the industrial limbs.

  Aristahl was aware of everything around him regardless of illumination. He used no extra lighting aids, no full-spectrum VADs.

  Jordahk commed him on a private channel. "Are you wearing infrarets?"

  Aristahl paused before giving a terse, "No."

  At the far end, Aristahl placed his hand on the hatch controls as if it were his front door.

  "The power caps have been drained, and the action protocols wiped," Barrister transmitted.

  "Nothing's working in this place," Jordahk said.

  Glick touched her pistol to make resonance contact, checking its readiness. "I don't like it." That wasn't unusual, but in this case, fitting.

  "I have written and inserted new action protocols," Barrister said, "but I need to charge one of the caps."

  Aristahl addressed Glick as her hand brushed the metal avian. "May I see that, young lady?"

  A flash of reluctance crossed her face before it was schooled with mercenary discipline. She pulled the folded bird out and handed it over.

  "Do you know about this kind of stuff?" she asked.

  Jordahk had concluded recently that his grandfather was an expert with every personal remote item. For an imprimatur, he knew an awful lot about weapons.

  Surprisingly un-cryptic, Aristahl said, "I have some familiarity, yes."

  The folded avian sat lifeless in Aristahl's palm. Then light-filled seams split its surface. Glick's eyes grew wide in disbelief. The drone stood promptly with head, wings, and tail unfolded. Glowing veins coursed through every part.

  "What?" Glick exclaimed. She didn't know Aristahl. "How the—"

  "I knew a woman once," Aristahl reminisced, "who thought the best designs came from the Creator's own hand as expressed in nature."

  The glowing veins pulsed with luminosity, lighting the airlock. The bird rotated in Aristahl's hand, only the smallest point maintaining contact with the palm resonance pad. A score of nozzles formed along its surface. Tiny opposing flames made brief spurts from successive pairs, scattering sparkling particles. More seams cut glistening paths, and light shone from within. Its surface undulated like waves passing through dislodged piano keys. With each undulation, a dark band grew more prominent along its lustrous gray surface. It formed into a sharp, dark ridge along the wings' leading edge and across the arrow-like head.

  When the undulating stopped, the rotating bird raised its beak in a silent, roaring screech. Had they been in air, Jordahk was sure the sound would have been deafening. The avian's angles became sharper, the blue-black edge more dangerous.

  Jordahk recognized the dark metal. "Osmium?"

  Aristahl nodded.

  Osmium was the second-rarest platinum group metal after numenium and was most closely associated with the darker aspects of mystic. Still, it was the best metal for certain functions, though the bulk of the bird remained dense, multi-purpose platinum.

  Glick stood mesmerized. Light glittered across her face. The avian slowed as its reconfiguration finished, and seams along its surface disappeared, taking with them cracks of light. Somehow, Jordahk sensed internalized energy that needed expression. His suspicions manifested when the blue-black osmium edge glowed. It had a familiar quality.

  "A monomer edge," Glick nodded in understanding. "I always knew there were more functions. Just couldn't access them."

  The cobalt glow of osmium faded. The avian turned its head as if giving everyone a once over, then folded up into a new, more angular shape. The airlock became a lot darker when Aristahl passed the dormant device back to Glick. She took it appreciatively. The reflection in her eye could have been a trick of the fading light.

  The end of her throat clearing came across the comm before she said a surprisingly heartfelt, "Thank you."

  Mystic things created by Sojourners were old and uncommon, and in the right hands, powerful. Jordahk's autobuss resonated strongly, apparently triggered by that thought. The sensation passed after a few seconds, and he relaxed. He was in no rush to delve once again into the quantics of legacy artifacts.

  "I have unlocked power." Aristahl paused. "Use it with wisdom."

  Glick stood motionless. The last statement hung between them. "Who are you?"

 
That was a sentiment Jordahk also found himself considering, not for the first time. Aristahl smiled innocently and turned back to the airlock controls. "Just an old man who has met a lot of interesting people."

  He placed his palm against the now glowing controls. They felt a clank through their boots, and Aristahl motioned the maintenance bot forward to start jacking the door open.

  A tiny puff of residual air went past suit sensors as a sliver of opening grew wide enough to pass. The black chamber before them was also devoid of atmosphere and gravity. They slipped in and closed the hatch behind. Like an extension of the one before, a pane continued to look down into the docking bay. Jordahk had a lumie in his bag that could shed light on things, but without atmosphere, its fans would be useless. He wanted his hands free.

  When they reached the far side, Aristahl put his palm to the control panel. Jordahk figured they would do the same routine again, but what he heard next sent a tingle up his spine.

  "These controls are hardwired to something up the line," Barrister said, "and I—am being pushed back?"

  If it was possible for an AI to be astonished, they just heard it. Jordahk has known Barrister all his life and had never heard that tone. In the world of computers, nothing "short of the Bitlord," as the saying went, could stop a mystic AI of Barrister's caliber.

  Glick responded by drawing her pistol. Jordahk felt movement in his bag. Max brought up the autobuss.

  "And just what am I supposed to shoot?" Jordahk sub-whispered.

  "Who knows the capabilities of something that can push back the old elitist," Max link-said.

  It sounded harsh, but Jordahk knew the respect Max had for Barrister's abilities. Aristahl spoke privately for a moment. When he turned back to them, his face was a little whiter. Jordahk gulped recycled air, remembering suddenly that his suit had no plumbing package.