by Scott Rhine
“I promised to teach you the ropes, give you a little seasoning, and keep you alive, but I can’t do that if you keep evading. Now, how many ewes are we talking about here?”
“None,” the teenager replied in a whisper. “I mean, there was a lot of kissing and stuff, but every time I’d get close, the ewe would … I don’t know how to explain it.”
Max listened to stories of fumbled love affairs, ending when the girl received an unexpected promotion or decided she didn’t need to demean herself this way. He learned in graphic detail how much Reuben liked big butts and Reubenesque women—hence his chosen call sign. Max honestly preferred hearing the Saurians talk sex because he had nothing in common with them. Sharing any impulses with this teen made him want to see a psychologist.
Finally, Max figured out the secret and couldn’t help smiling. “It’s reversed.”
“You mean I’m cursed or perverse?”
“I may be able to help you with this little problem with two caveats. First, you may need to find a better class of ewe. Your bodyguards will probably need to screen candidates. Second, no more ewes, period, until you’re done with training. You need to control your abilities so you don’t empower some terrorists.”
“No women?” Reuben whimpered.
Max mailed an encrypted message to the intelligence agency, outlining the twist in the ability and the steps he was taking. “This trip is only going to be six months one way. I’m used to stasis or high-end accommodations, but I’ll work out with you every day. We’ll practice running, martial arts, sensory perception, kidnapping prevention, and meditation.”
As the shuttle lurched forward into the launch, Reuben said, “I’m going to be sick.” Evidently six months, in horny teen Goat years, was practically forever. Only when they were arcing toward the orbiting starship at escape velocity did the Goat recover enough to ask, “Why me?”
Max turned on the scrambler in his watch and set it by the cabin door. “The Magi introduced many of the same psi talents into the Goats as they did into the Humans. Most adopted the Collective Unconscious gift.” For Goats, this provided the constant comfort of knowing others of the herd were present. It also enabled them to signal distress in cases of emergency. “Only about 3 percent of Humans have other psionic abilities, like the Llewellyn dynasty, while for Goats, that number is less than 1 percent. In my xenobiology classes, they claimed that was because the herd mind doesn’t like individuals to be too different.”
“But I am?” guessed Reuben.
“You’re descended from the Black Ram himself.”
“The Great One? The politician who changed our world forever?” The Black Ram changed nearly every aspect of Mnamnabonian society in an attempt to pull their herd of planets out of its debt and consumption spiral. He founded a political party that was always led by one of his descendants. “The party’s been out of favor since the leader died in a den of excess on Shangri-La over a hundred years ago. He didn’t leave an heir.”
“MI had to form a special branch to track all his illegitimate children. Black Ram Xerxes foresaw the Phib war. Hell, he installed the failsafe device that stopped their armada.”
“So he was some kind of genius?”
“Any kind he wanted to be, but he had difficulty relating to sheep. Hated the mentality. Hated that he couldn’t stop his people from making the mistakes that were coming. He coped.”
“Black sheep who don’t follow herd-think are usually shipped to the frontiers as explorers, researchers, or ambassadors. They interface well with Humans,” Reuben explained blithely, until he realized he was describing himself. He had earned a computer science degree on scholarship from Anodyne University, their first ever issued to a Goat. In gratitude for their sacrifices in the recent war, Mnamnabonians were offered scholarships at any Union school they desired. Few ever left the safety of their region of space, though.
Continuing, Max grasped his companion’s shoulder. “Black Rams are kept at the fringes until your people need their special abilities. They give up whatever life they’ve cobbled together and answer the call.”
“What’s our ability?” Reuben demanded.
“Well … I’m supposed to evaluate you as a candidate before you get the full explanation, but I’m sharing because you need to know why you have to keep it in your pants.” Max struggled to keep the smile off his face. “You can’t tell anyone about this, even under torture. Agreed?”
Reuben held up his right hand. “May I never eat pepperoni again.”
“The original Black Ram mutation was a simple Quantum Computing variation. He borrowed large numbers of IQ points from the planetary herd mind to solve problems threatening the herd. The original group-think.”
“Cool. Superintelligence.”
“Some of his children, however, could only achieve this boost effect while touching the specialists they needed. I suspect you’re in this category. You probably need bare skin-to-skin contact.”
Reuben shrugged. “Still decent. Instant expert on whatever society needs, and the best secret agent ever. I could even touch several people at once.”
“Your power has a twist. You boost the other person’s IQ, which has amazing potential.” Breakthroughs in almost any field of science at a touch.
“Huh?”
“Whenever you got naked with a ewe, she was bombarded with genius ideas, and suddenly you’re no longer interesting.”
Reuben’s face fell. “I’m never getting laid.”
Tears leaked out of the corners of Max’s eyes as he struggled to hold in mirth. “I don’t know. We might be able to locate some lonely rocket scientist who gets really excited by solving math problems.”
The Goat glowered as he scooped up Max’s scrambler. “I hope we’re going to spar on this ship because I really want to hit you.”
“We’ll work on your control together and find a loophole.” Otherwise you’re an evolutionary dead end.
Chapter 5 – The Inner Eye
Reuben pointedly ignored him, so Max stared out the porthole as they approached the starship. The Inner Eye resembled a diagram of an atomic weapon or an ancient bathysphere. Over two hundred fifty drives pointed outward toward the universe. If they all fired at once, they might crush the soccer-ball shape in the center to critical mass, triggering God-knows-what reaction. Some of the support struts could have been Human implementation, but the workmanship of the large, spherical core bore the distinctive traces of the Magi—the mysterious patrons who introduced ideas into Human culture in order to lift them to the next level of civilization. The shuttle docked in the cargo bay a third of the way down.
When the Saurian pilot came out of the cockpit, Max complimented him on the smooth landing and then asked, “On a run this long, how much of our load is fuel?”
The pilot grunted. “Let’s see. We have this floor of cargo and air-recycling plants. We also have two floors at the top for the bridge and crew quarters. Fuel would be the rest of it.” He led the two passengers to the airlock, waiting for them to close the cabin door behind them.
Because of his back injury from the alley incident, Max moved more slowly than normal in the low gravity.
“Where are we heading?” asked Reuben, eager to chat with someone other than Max while the pressure in the airlock equalized.
“Eden.” The Saurian’s skin had a brownish, pebbled appearance, and his spines were thin and sharp.
Reuben smiled. “That sounds pretty.”
“It’s all public relations,” grumbled the pilot.
Max nodded. “If they called it ass-end of nowhere with no metal of its own and too many earthquakes for two-story buildings, no one would ever go there. We’re already a long way from Saurian space.” The Saurians had long ago taken over administration of the drier parts of the closer Phib empire, coexisting in peace with their distant cousins.
“Indeed. My brother is going to pay for making me travel all this way.”
“Captain Zrulkesh?” Max deduced. �
��I didn’t expect you to ferry us yourself.”
“I run a tight ship. No sense paying my copilot extra for something I could do myself.” The moment the controls dinged, the captain pushed opened the door into the docking ring. The tunnels and airlocks were all round, with perfect symmetry and padding, so that no one could be injured and no suits punctured. This was the luxury sports car of ships. One hallway ran along the entire rim of the ship, intersected by vertical tubes every 60 degrees around the circle. Each of the six pie wedges had a separate large door into the cargo area.
Definitely Magi-built; everything is a multiple of three.
Zrulkesh opened the door to the cargo area and called to the ship’s AI, “Minder, add these two guests to the access list for this zone only.”
Their pie wedge contained a grassy area with a silver sidewalk, lined with birch trees. In the nearest corner, a koi pond was covered by an elegant, domed gazebo. Given Magi safety standards, the dome might provide containment for the water if gravity failed. Walls on each side were formed of featureless, gray cargo containers of standard dimensions but non-human origin. Human shipping always had logos and ads. The ceiling was covered with sunlight panels and sky-blue paint. The spherical walls behind them curved inward, making that side suitable for the gardens.
Zrulkesh strode down the sidewalk toward the door at the point of the pie wedge. “You have access to this exercise yard only. The rest are for my crew.”
Tiny birds fluttered through the branches. Max estimated the total distance from the outer hull to the inner ring at 175 meters. So much space dedicated to nature was lavish.
At the core, another hall circled the mess hall and a central elevator. Inside that hall, the captain led them past the door to another microenvironment—drifting sand dunes dotted with cactus, aloe, and a Joshua tree. The pie wedges seemed to alternate cargo and life-support systems to keep the weight balanced. The third biozone held a tropical rainforest where the sunlight didn’t reach. Presumably, the sunlight rotated between the microenvironments.
Six modular living spaces had been attached to the inner ring. “This is your room. The others are all filled with short-term cargo for our next stop. Minder, take his biometrics.”
“Max Culp.” He palmed the access panel, and the door swished open. The bed, desk, closet, and bathroom door were all white, made of ultra-light materials. Not bad accommodations for such a tight space. It even had an emergency vacuum suit hanging in the closet. He nodded. “What about my apprentice? I’m open-minded, but I won’t share a bed this thrashing small with another man.”
The captain slapped his stomach in amusement. “What do you recommend? We have to break orbit to make our jump window in four hours.” With jumps between binary star systems, departures had to be timed very carefully to get the right angle and destination. Missing a delicate stellar alignment could mean months of delay. “All the other staterooms are full of short-range cargo already. As it stands, your heavy pod and the extra food I had to buy for the Goat have already eaten into my profits for this voyage. Let him sleep in the woods.”
“Extra?” asked Reuben.
Zrulkesh explained, “Before today, Parro only told me to expect one killer.”
The Goat sat on a bench in the common dining area as the realization sunk in. Regardless of any bruised feelings involved, Max had bargained for his life. “I can live out of our storage pod.”
The captain put his tail down firmly. “Too dangerous.”
“All our clothing is in there,” Reuben said.
“You might use something else from in there to attack me.”
Deadpan, Max replied, “That’s absurd. I wasn’t paid to kill you, and I’m a professional.”
Zrulkesh laughed. “I like you. We purchased tents for the expedition on Eden. It wouldn’t hurt to open one early. Maybe we could come to an agreement, one professional to another.”
Dipping two fingers into a bag at his waist, Max pulled out a couple loose diamonds that his team had confiscated from the Phibs. “Is this enough understanding? I also want our personal belongings and some basic equipment to train my apprentice.”
The Saurian admired the glittering stones. “One more, and I will extend your privileges to the upper decks. You can even be a dinner guest at my table once we have entered subspace.”
“Those are your survivor prize,” Reuben objected. The survivors used the spoils of war as a retirement fund, once the farewell party for the dead had been arranged. “You can’t spend them like this.”
“Speak out of turn again, and I will blade you.” Max handed three stones to the captain.
“A stevedore will accompany you to the pod. He’ll let you take a few items after checking them for contraband.” The captain vanished into the elevator.
“A pleasure doing business.”
Then Max turned to Reuben, speaking English for the first time, the official language of the university they had both attended. The Goat spoke it fluently, but these Saurians would not. Interspecies communication in anything other than Banker was considered rude because excluding others usually meant the speaker was insulting them. “Never question me in front of the Saurians. It makes me look weak. If we show weakness to this captain, we’ll never make it to our destination. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Reuben said with a swallow. “And, thank you.”
“Any other questions while we’re alone?”
“I just need a little time to adjust to all this, boss.”
****
When the Goat crewman arrived, he dropped the tent bundle and a sleeping bag on the lawn beside the entrance to the common area.
“This will be like camping,” Max said.
On the way to the storage pod, Reuben milked the other member of his race for information. Joining at Vegas, Hans hadn’t worked for the seedy captain for long. “I live on this level with the provisions, do heavy lifting, and manage some of the live cargo.”
“Meal rats?” Reuben guessed.
“And a few more clever mammals for better hunts.” Hans shuddered. “I intended to work toward my journeyman card, but after meeting Zrulkesh, I might switch ships at the next port.”
“Why’s that?” Reuben asked.
Hans refused to make eye contact. “The Saurians are a pretty tight group.” He remained silent through the airlock.
While Max entered the pod’s door codes and checked for damage, Reuben noted, “The mess hall only has one table. Will we need to eat in shifts?”
“No. The captain eats in his suite. The astrogator never comes out of hiding.” Astrogators were interstellar navigators who specialized in astrophysics and higher mathematics. “The other seven Saurians and I are spread over three sleep shifts. There might be as many as four of us on this level during a normal meal, but for the main evening meal, the senior crew likes to hunt fresh.” He also discussed the fact that each of the three environments was on a different light cycle to match the planet modeled. The Saurian desert zone had a period of about thirty-two hours and the birch wood zone was close to Earth’s twenty-four.
Inside, the storage pod resembled an RV without a driver’s seat or windows, unless one counted the security camera display. Max hauled the suitcases out first. Hans wrinkled his nose and rummaged through them in moments. “These clothes smell awful.”
“I was kidnapped before laundry day,” Reuben complained. “Sue me. Besides, there are some good memories in that jacket.”
Hans pulled a pizza crust from a pocket, nibbled a bite, and nodded.
From his vantage point at the door, Reuben said, “That computer hardware looks a hundred years old.”
“It’s slow but reliable. I also scrubbed it completely clean except the libraries,” Max replied. “I’ll bring out your personal computer as well as the case of entertainment and textbook cubes.”
When Max emerged with his choices, only a few items raised an eyebrow. Rummaging through the clothes and the box, Hans held up a Human-e
ngineered holo cube. “The rest are read-only. This one is high resolution, with enough room for all our star charts. It could be used for information smuggling.”
Indeed, it had several missions’ worth of data encrypted on it, but the primary purpose had been around far longer. Max showed him the movie-studio markings on the bottom and hit the display button for the last frame.
A pale, beautiful brunette with wavy hair and a short, slinky kimono appeared in the air. Her eyes were lowered shyly as if she had never worn this garment in front of a man before. Both the Goats stared in awe for a moment. When Reuben glanced at his boss, he felt that he had intruded on something personal.
Hans said, “Nice, but I thought guys like you didn’t carry mementos. People like Sageworthy could take advantage of any weakness to extort you.”
“She’s already long dead.” Max pocketed the cube.
“Not a problem then.” Hans opened a gym bag. “This staff looks dangerous. Neural shock wand?”
“For training Reuben with swords. It’s safer than a blade, and the battery only has enough bite to sting, not knock someone out.”
Hans cranked the dial to 10 and touched the staff to the other Goat’s behind.
Reuben jumped a foot from the jolt and rubbed his butt, glowering.
Braying in amusement, Hans said, “I think everyone will enjoy watching those training sessions.” Lastly, he pulled the dart gun out of Max’s medical bag.
Max explained, “Immunization supplies.” The Magi referred to any destructive non-sentient as a virus, so he had technically been a virus killer for years.
“Prove it,” Hans demanded.
Max held the dart gun to his own left arm and squeezed off a round. Then he placed the gun back in its holster. Reuben knew about the paralytic loads and raised both eyebrows.
When the crewman departed, Reuben whispered, “How the blazes did you manage that?”
Switching to English, Max said, “Well, the hand will be stiff for a while, but I chose this particular toxin because it comes from the poison-arrow frogs of my homeland. I’ve handled it so often that I’ve developed an immunity to the drug. Comes in handy when someone uses my own weapon against me.”