by Jay Allan
But the real question I raise in this work is a starker one, concerned not with soaring advancement or glorious futures, but grim prediction. Is our reality truly the early stage of a recovery from humanity’s fall? Or merely a brief upswing on an otherwise relentless descent into a true dark age, one that will last for untold eons?
Free Trader Pegasus
System Z-111 (Chrysallis)
Deep Inside the Quarantined Zone (“The Badlands”)
309 AC
“We’re getting strange readings from planet four. Definitely some kind of energy output.” Vig Merrick glanced up from his workstation, a startled look on his face. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen, Captain. The pattern doesn’t match anything in the database. I checked it against every known form of fission or fusion generation, even chemical sources. But it’s…different.”
“Different how?” Captain Andromeda Lafarge sat in the center of Pegasus’s tiny bridge. She was clad in her usual costume, black leather from head to toe. A heavy pistol and a small knife hung from a belt strung over the back of her chair. Pegasus’s crew had an inside joke that their captain took her weapons into the shower with her. It wasn’t true, but it was closer to the mark than she was prepared to admit to any of them. The hook on the wall in her small bathroom was within easy reach of the shower stall, and Lafarge’s reflexes were lightning quick.
She leaned back in her chair, taking a quiet breath, trying to keep herself calm. Her people had come a long way…and just maybe this was what they were looking for. Her pale blond hair was tied tightly behind her head, and her ice blue eyes focused intently on Pegasus’s small main display, watching as the meager data trickled in from her ship’s scanners.
“Stronger, for one thing. It’s very intense. Unless I’m missing something, we’re talking about output vastly stronger than even a military reactor.”
Lafarge felt a flutter of excitement. Could they really have found what they’d been seeking for so long? “Bring us into orbit, Vig.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Merrick was Lafarge’s first officer, and her oldest friend. The two were usually informal, but in tense moments, Merrick reverted to calling her “captain” instead of using her name as most of Pegasus’s crew did. Lafarge’s parents were long dead, and the only legacy she carried from the mother and father so long gone was the name “Andromeda,” a mouthful that was mercifully shortened to “Andi” by those who knew her.
Merrick was the only other person in the cramped control room. There was a third station off to the side, one that would have been manned in a crisis situation, but she’d sent the other seven occupants of her ship to their bunks to catch some sleep. Pegasus had been on its hunt for a long time, and nothing would be served by having her crew collapse from exhaustion.
Most of her people had been with her for years, and she knew she had their loyalty. But they’d been chasing shadows for months now, burning through much of the profit they’d earned on earlier expeditions pursuing what she suspected most of those aboard Pegasus had come to view as a phantom, an obsession the captain refused to accept was a mirage. But Lafarge’s gut had never led her astray before, and she wasn’t about to start disregarding it now. She’d been called every synonym for stubborn she could think of—and she saw no reason to shy away from any of those characterizations, not now. Not when she was so close.
Lafarge called herself a free trader, even an archeologist of sorts in her more cerebral moments, but other names had been targeted at her as well. Adventurer, rogue, pirate…though she’d always insisted “pirate” was unfair. Perhaps she paid less attention than the authorities liked to rules and laws she felt were ill-conceived or unreasonable, but she’d never fought any ship that hadn’t attacked her first nor taken a cargo by force. She was no thief, no cutthroat. In a weak moment, she might even cop to “rogue,” but never “pirate.”
The governments might lay claim to the artifacts and relics in the Badlands, but she saw no reason to adhere to such restrictions. Governments were always a bit grabby in her estimation, and as far as she was concerned, none of the relics out in the vastness of ancient, Cataclysmic space belonged to anyone save those with the skill and courage to find them. The Badlands—or Quarantined Zone or Abandoned Zone, as the area was variably designated by international accord—was not part of any nation. By treaty, any artifacts found in the zone were to be shared by all humanity, perhaps the most violated rule in the history of international relations. If the governments were going to ignore their own agreements, she saw no reason to turn over her own hard-won treasures to what she could only see as a glorified tax gatherer.
Lafarge didn’t object to any ancient tech she found being shared, of course, not as long as she was paid first. She was no collector, and running a ship like Pegasus was expensive. She wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere risking her life for nothing. Andi Lafarge had tasted poverty and deprivation at its bitterest and most soul-killing.
She remembered the crime-ridden streets of Hephaeseus’s slums, the pain of an empty stomach and the destitution of her orphaned childhood. Never again, she had long ago promised herself, and her career since had been dedicated to ensuring her wealth and comfort. When she retired one day it would be to a planet with crystal clear seas and vibrant blue skies, not the polluted, garbage-filled oceans, dense gray haze, and acid rains of her homeworld. And if the black market was the way she made that happen, so be it. She would let no one interfere. If her wits would serve, that was fine, but she carried that pistol and blade with her everywhere for a reason, and she was ready to use them when necessary.
She’d spent a lot of time prowling these long-abandoned systems, and that had taken a toll on her psyche, and on what little faith she’d ever had in mankind as a species. The Badlands were a constant reminder of the shadow that stalked mankind, of humanity’s propensity for self-destruction. Lafarge’s outlook was a grim one. She saw corrupt governments everywhere, masses of people willing to believe whatever they were told as they were led to ruin. The wreckage of the ancient empire was a look into the past, of course, but to Lafarge it was also a glimpse of a potential future, one she was far from certain the Confederation and the nations surrounding it would avoid.
There was nothing she could do about that, however, and she had no intention of wasting her time trying. She looked to her own needs, and those of her crew. That was all that mattered to her. The fools inhabiting the worlds of the Confederation, and the sheep enslaved by the Union…they created their own reality. She would live on the fringes, in the shadows, and when she was done with her explorations, she would enjoy the comfort her efforts had provided her. She wished no harm on those who did not act against her, but neither did she accept responsibility for people’s folly.
“Entering orbit, Captain.”
“Very well, bring…”
“Captain, we’re picking up something in orbit. It’s big…damned big, just coming around into view. And it’s the source of the energy readings.” Merrick spun around and stared at Lafarge. “It’s huge, Andi…bigger than a battleship.”
Lafarge stared at the screen, unable to look away. She and her people were searching for an extraordinary find…but the thing her scanners were picking up was beyond her wildest expectations.
Her mind was racing, and she knew she was getting way ahead of herself. How could she even get this thing back to normal space? And what was it? Some kind of weapon? That would be bad. She wasn’t shy about selling trinkets on the black market, even bits and pieces of information tech, but the vast construct looming in front of her ship was something else entirely. Her stomach twisted into a knot, as worries crept in, right on the heels of her excitement.
There was ancient technology to be found out in the Badlands—she’d known that a long time, even before she’d been one of the treasure hunters herself—and fortunes to be gained by those willing to take the risks to discover it, but most of the artifacts retrieved had been small items, o
r bits and pieces of larger systems.
Until now…
“Bring us in closer, Vig. Slow.” She couldn’t imagine the thing was fully operational, but the energy readings made her nervous. She’d equipped Pegasus well for an adventurer’s ship, but if the monstrous thing on her scanners was operational and armed, she didn’t doubt it could vaporize her little craft with a single shot.
She tapped the small comm unit next to her chair. “Ross…”
“Yes?” Ross Tarren’s voice was soft, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
“Time to get up. Rouse the whole crew. I think we’ve just found something…well, you’ll have to decide for yourself what it is. But I think we need everybody up and alert right now.”
“On the way, Andi.”
She turned and flashed a glance toward Merrick. “I want the scanners on full power, Vig. Don’t take your eyes off the screen, not for a second. If there’s any kind of energy spike, any signs at all that this thing is active—and maybe preparing to fire—get us the hell out of here.”
“Will do, Captain.” Merrick’s voice suggested he was as doubtful as Lafarge that Pegasus could escape if the artifact turned out to be hostile. “We’ve got the energy readings—more power than I’ve ever seen any physical construct generate—but no changes, no increases. It’s still just sitting there.”
“What the hell is that?” Ross Tarren had just stepped onto the bridge…and frozen in place. He stared at the screen in something that looked like pure shock.
“Well, for one thing, it’s proof we weren’t chasing shadows. This is by far the greatest discovery made in the Badlands.” Lafarge tried to hide her conflicting emotions. She was thrilled to find something so extraordinary, but she was already beginning to realize it would be a difficult thing to monetize. There was no way to sell something like this in a clandestine manner, even assuming she could get it back to Confederation space somehow. And, while she had less respect than the authorities liked for overreaching rules and restrictions, she wasn’t about to sell out the Confederation by allowing something of this importance to fall into foreign hands.
“What the…” Dolph Messer stopped at the hatch and stared onto the bridge.
“What’s the problem, you big oaf?” Rina Strand’s voice was terse, her annoyance clear in her tone.
Messer moved forward as Strand pushed Pegasus’s resident giant onto the bridge. The small woman squeezed between Messer and the wall…and then she too stopped. “Shit,” she muttered softly.
“Alright, enough gawking.” Lafarge turned and glared at her crew members. “We’ve found something…something big. I need you at your stations, not cramming onto the bridge, taking up space.” She gestured toward the single vacant seat on the bridge. “Ross, at your station. Rina, down in engineering…now.” She slapped her hand down on the comm controls, activating the shipwide PA. “Everybody, get to your stations. I don’t think we’ve got a fight on our hands, but we’re definitely venturing into the unknown, and we’re damned well going to be ready for whatever happens.”
She leaned back, her gaze returning to the display. She liked to consider herself a pure mercenary, and she’d often said she would haul loads of grain if it paid as well as ancient artifacts. But that was all show. Lafarge was fascinated by old tech, and now she could feel the rumblings in her mind, the curiosity that, upon occasion, earned her that informal archeologist’s designation.
What is this thing?
“Still no change, Captain.” Merrick’s voice was edgy, but it was clear he was as intrigued by the ancient device as Lafarge. “It’s just orbiting.”
“Then bring us alongside, Vig.” Lafarge didn’t move, didn’t let an eye wander from the incredible image in front of her. “And see if you can find a place to dock. If this thing lets us get close enough, we’re going aboard to have a look around.”
Chapter Four
Inside Abandoned Spacecraft
System Z-111 (Chrysallis)
Deep Inside the Quarantined Zone (“The Badlands”)
309 AC
“Vig, are you seeing this?” Lafarge moved forward, slowly angling her head back and forth. She still held the portable lamp in her hand, but now she flipped the switch, turning it off. The corridor had been dark when she and Merrick had first entered, but then the ceiling had begun to glow, some kind of lighting units activating in response to their presence. It was dim at first, but the illumination grew until the area around them was as bright as Pegasus’s bridge. She felt a tightness in her gut, a combination of excitement and fear. Whatever it was her people had found, it was still operational, at least to some extent.
“I am…” Merrick turned, reaching out and touching the nearest wall, running his hand over the smooth metal. “It’s spotless. No dust, no debris. What kind of material is this?”
“I have no idea.” She stepped over to the side of the corridor and put her hand on the wall, following his lead. “It’s warm. Some kind of heating system?” She looked over at Merrick, aware as she did that her number two didn’t have any more answers than she did.
“Could be.” Pegasus’s first officer moved his hand along the smooth gray surface. “How can this be in such good condition? It looks like whoever was here left an hour ago.”
Lafarge nodded. “I know.” She’d spent the last eight years scouring the Badlands. One of her earlier finds had been so substantial it had funded her purchase of Pegasus, but even that cache had been nothing but broken bits of advanced circuit boards…certainly nothing functional. Not to mention so large. She’d never even allowed herself to imagine finding an intact ship, much less one that made a Confederation battleship look like a lifeboat.
“Let’s see what there is this way.” She gestured down what looked like an endless corridor. She’d brought Pegasus in at what looked like a docking portal, but she’d still been surprised how easily she’d managed to adapt her ship’s own umbilical to the artifact’s port. It hadn’t been a perfect fit, of course, but as much as Lafarge eschewed the occasional designation as a pirate, her ship bore many marks of a past serving one or more buccaneer captains. The extremely adaptable docking portal was just one of those.
The two walked slowly, cautiously, peering ahead as additional sections of the strange overhead lighting activated at their approach. It was the same everywhere—no visible lighting panels, just a strange glow from the ceiling material itself. She’d never seen anything like it, and she didn’t have the slightest idea how it worked.
There were a number of hatches and doors along the way, but they were all locked. Lafarge had paused at the first few, trying to figure out to open them, but she’d given up. There were no apparent locks, just smooth doors almost imperceptible from the walls surrounding them.
She pushed ahead, walking down the corridor, alert, her eyes fixed forward. The hall had to lead somewhere, and that was as likely to be important as whatever lay behind the doors.
“This corridor doesn’t end,” Merrick said softly.
“Well, the ship’s a little over fifteen kilometers long, which is big but still definitely finite, so I’m thinking it will end at some point.” Lafarge’s voice was light, an abortive attempt at humor. She was trying to control her anxiety, with some at least some superficial success. But inside she was scared to death. About what lay ahead. About what this ancient wonder actually was. And about what she was going to do with the discovery. Her mind had been working around various schemes for selling the find, but she’d discounted each one as unrealistic almost immediately. She was beginning to realize she was in over her head. Deeply.
But if I report this to the authorities, they won’t pay me…they’ll just take it. And they’ll probably harass me about why I was here to boot…
She kept walking, trying vainly to push aside the worries. There would be time enough later to decide what to do. Perhaps she could find some portable items, small artifacts she could remove from the ship, unimportant relative to the massive ves
sel, but with enough value for all her people to retire on. Then she could make an anonymous report to the naval authorities, and let them worry about what to do with the hulking artifact.
“There’s something up ahead, Andi.” Merrick stopped, reaching out instinctively, pointing. But Lafarge had seen it already. The corridor ended up ahead at a doorway. An open doorway.
“Let’s go, Vig. This is no time to stop.” She quickened her pace. She liked to think that she was out in the Badlands chasing after bits of ancient technology solely for the money, driven by nothing more complex than the dedication to remain free of the poverty she’d once known. But she was driven by an intense curiosity as well, and she’d studied every artifact she had found before turning them over to her shadowy buyers. That inquisitiveness drove her on now. She was standing inside the greatest discovery in Confederation history, and the immensity of that fact was beginning to crystalize in her mind. She’d always operated in the shadows, and she liked it that way. But now she was at the center of something that would change history. It was more than she could easily comprehend, and she tried to ignore the implications, focusing instead on what was around her now…and how to proceed.
She stepped up to the door, her hand dropping instinctively to her pistol. The weapon was old, its grip worn smooth from use, but it was in perfect condition. She took it apart once a month with solemn regularity, replacing any parts that showed signs of wear. It had saved her ass more than once, and if she needed it again, she knew it would be there for her.
She peered through the doorway into a vast chamber. The ceiling was close to a hundred meters above the deck, and she could barely see the other side in the gloomy distance. It was the largest room she had ever seen, certainly on any kind of space vessel.