Creation

by Greg Chase

  2

  The prospect of a pirate enemy intercepting their shuttle, already hell bent on self-destruction, put every one of Sam’s nerves on edge. His eyes darted from view screen to view screen, each time certain he’d caught a glimpse of something moving among the asteroids. The smell of burning electronics stung his eyes and nose. If they were attacked, it wouldn’t be a long fight.

  His gaze narrowed to the view screen in front of him. Something wasn’t right about one of the largest rocks to the right of their ship. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t moving in the same direction as all its neighbors.

  Before Sam had a chance to warn the captain of the enemy, Xavier let out a loud war cry. Instead of turning to avoid the confrontation, the battered shuttle swung into a direct path toward the ominous black ship.

  Lud yelled out to their employer, “You sure this is a good idea, Xav? Don’t we have some work to do?”

  The gray-haired mass of insanity at the helm laughed as he leaned into the controls. “Just trying to round up some spare parts for your precious engines.”

  Sam had never seen Lud exhibit anything but an aura of confident power. Attacking a hostile ship in little more than a tin can, however, brought out his more cautious side. His hands gripped the view screen as he glared at the captain. “You know those engines work a whole lot better if they’re not turned into scrap metal across some asteroid?”

  The black ship grew large in the view screen. But before a confrontation could be engaged, Xavier swung the shuttle down hard toward a grouping of unavoidable rocks. Because of the lack of gravity and corresponding physical sensation, Sam’s stomach floated up into his mouth.

  Lud pressed a survival mask into Sam’s hand. “Better put it on. Once he gets in one of these moods, it’s either us or them.”

  The mask clipped around the collar of his space-travel jacket and over his head. Following Lud’s lead, Sam secured a series of snaps and latches that converted the full-length heavy garment into a space-survival suit. The smell of burnt electronics mixed with the well-worn rubber of the mask and his own body odor. His adrenaline-fueled rapid breathing forced too much of the noxious mixture into his lungs. Even if they survived the assault, the suit meant to keep him alive would likely suffocate him with its stench.

  The battle commenced in slow motion. For a moment, Sam wondered if his impression was the result of fear, but then one large, shuttle-crushing rock drifted off to the left and another appeared dead center in the view screen. Sam found he could count his breaths to establish the pace of events.

  Lud’s muffled voice crackled from the speakers in Sam’s mask. “Not like your adventure stories? There’s no pew-pew of laser fire out here. Costs too much. Energy is everything out this far. A good blast from a laser gun could power us all the way back to Leviathan. Battle out here is more like a life-or-death game of billiards. Honestly, I’d take a good firefight. It’s far less nerve-wracking. But Xavier likes to cannibalize as much of his enemy’s ship as possible, so he’ll do all he can to wound, but not destroy, an adversary.”

  A moment later, Sam got a firsthand example of Lud’s explanation. Xavier plowed the reinforced nose of the shuttle into an asteroid. The shuttle shook violently, sending Sam face-first into a view screen. The heavy space garment cushioned the blow. To his amazement, the rock—much larger than their shuttle—shot out in front of them.

  As the asteroid shrank in the view screen, the larger black ship darted out from behind it. But Sam only got a glimpse of Xavier’s adversary as the black ship spun to the left and ducked behind a rock not much bigger than their shuttle.

  The view screen at the lower edge of Sam’s line of sight displayed a boulder passing with unnerving speed below their ship. Xavier sent a blast of engine power out the front of the shuttle and spun the craft into a slap shot against the rock that hid them. Again, the boulder moved away with surprising speed. But the move positioned the nose of the shuttle directly into the path of their adversary’s next shot. An asteroid the size of a ten-story building clipped the front of the ship. View screens exploded with light as wiring shorted out in the front of the craft.

  Nothing around them, however, appeared damaged.

  Lud smiled knowingly at him and nodded toward a schematic screen of the ship. “We’re buried deep in the shuttle. All those stories of yours had us positioned right at the front, I’ll bet. Probably even with a big glass window to look out at the stars. Stupid. We’re in the safest place possible. This ship can take a lot of abuse before we’ll be affected.”

  Sam found that little consolation as another asteroid sent the shuttle into a dizzying spin. His stomach wasn’t going to stand for much more of this abuse.

  Lud’s voice penetrated the sound of ripping metal. “Here comes the money shot, Sam. Hold tight to those harnesses.”

  Instead of issuing a crushing blow that would end the shuttle, Xavier used the spinning momentum to flip a relatively small boulder around the ominous rock in front of them and directly into the leading scar in the nose cone of their adversary.

  Even without large glass windows, Sam could see that their enemy had been gravely wounded. One bank of engines at the back of the ship sputtered to a halt. Then the other. The large black ship spun slowly until a passing asteroid gently bumped it to a stop.

  The front view screen crackled back to life. The view of rocks, space, and a disabled enemy transitioned to a thin, angry face behind a survival mask. “You win, Xavier. What do you expect to steal from me this time?”

  The gray, thin man stretched his body upright, away from the shuttle’s controls. “Just your engines. You can keep whatever you’ve got in your holds. Hell, I’ll even send out a distress call if you want.”

  Their adversary’s face looked skeptical. “You’re leaving me my energy pods?”

  Xavier’s laugh shook the shuttle worse than some of the asteroid impacts. “Good Lord, no. I’m taking everything but your life support. Figured that was a given. You can eject the engine and power pods willingly, or I’ll have Lud come and rip them from your shuttle. Of course, whatever else he finds is also fair game.”

  The image of the enemy captain transitioned back to that of the disabled black ship. Two large cylinders containing the ship’s powerful engines discharged out the back of the craft, followed by two smaller cylinders Sam guessed to be the energy pods.

  Lud breathed deep as he removed the survival mask. “Not a bad negotiation. For a moment there, I thought we’d be floating.”

  Xavier turned with an evil temper. “When have I ever fought to the point of losing a ship? Have you ever found your miserable hulk swimming with the asteroids?”

  Lud backed away from the man not even half his weight. “No offense, Captain. I’m just saying you looked pretty intent.”

  Xavier’s demeanor softened only slightly as he growled in response. “You said you needed engines.”

  Lud laughed, making Sam wonder if that was the best way to deal with the captain’s volatile mood. “Those things won’t even push Leviathan out of that space dock.”

  The captain scratched at his scruffy beard. “No, I expect not. But they’ll sure as hell give this tin can some unexpected thrust. How many times do I have to tell you: it’s all about trading up.”

  Lud settled back into the harness as Xavier maneuvered the shuttle to latch onto the floating engine and power pods. “One day, that man is either going to run this section of the solar system or get us all killed, Sam. There’s no in-between.”

  3

  Muscles ached as Sam pulled his body from the battered shuttle. The gravity in Leviathan’s landing bay was one-tenth that of Earth, and Sam thought his body should be more appreciative of that. Total blackness ebbed to dark shadows against a gray background then slowly resolved to definable shapes. The cold receiving bay reminded him of his grandfather’s garage: mysterious, dirty, with tools scattered about and spare parts indistinguishable from the partially finished projects they we
re meant to complete.

  As the silhouettes stretched out the kinks from the shuttle’s run-in with the black ship, Xavier’s thin figure dominated the main hatch of the antique space freighter. In all of Sam’s research, there hadn’t been a speck of information on the man in charge.

  “Nice to see you didn’t suffer too much damage,” Xavier said. “Let’s get started.”

  The gravity boots helped with the weightless feeling but made Sam’s feet ache. He squinted, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light of the spaceship, as he entered the main cabin. The heavy leather jacket he wore reached to his feet and combated the cold. As his eyes further adjusted, he counted an additional six workers who’d beat them to the far end of nowhere. Dankness filled the air; not all of the ancient filters were performing as intended. And he’d thought Earth was miserable.

  Lud waved his hand toward the back of the ship. “What’s with the terraforming pods, Xav?”

  Xavier looked back along the ship to the four monster tubes that occupied the majority of the spacecraft. “There’s a crazy bunch of utopian idealists living in that transparent agro pod. They own the Leviathan, at least until we complete the contract. Then she’s ours. The crew they hired to deliver them to their new planet went rogue and dumped the ship out here, stripping her of what they could easily cart off. But the people in those pods aren’t stupid. They managed to lock down the ship once the original flight crew left. Most spaceships that are dumped out here end up unable to support life. Scavengers wait a couple years then come back to cut up the remains. These people have managed to keep Leviathan alive, however. It’s why I wanted her: she’s a survivor. We’ll keep the terraforming tube that’s used for housing, food, and the basic necessities. The other three pods get delivered to Chariklo along with the tribe living in the agro tube.”

  Sam wondered how it was even possible to live in a weightless agricultural terrarium so far from the sun. It was one thing to know he was on a rescue mission and another thing entirely to see the dark, cold tubes connected to a dead ship at the edge of the solar system.

  Xavier stretched, nearly hitting the ceiling. “They’ve created their own little biosphere. Air, water—everything gets recycled. How they’re collecting or creating energy is a mystery. I had a hell of a time just making contact with them.”

  “So they’re on board with this? They’re okay with us taking their ship?” Lud’s hands on his hips, the accusatory tone of his voice, and the sideways glare he shot at Xavier left Sam wondering about their past association.

  The captain looked exasperated. “They requested it. I don’t like it, but they’re our first customers. The deal is we get them to their planet safe and sound. Once that’s done, this ship is ours. Kitchen, sleeping quarters, entertainment—that lot is for our use. They just want the remaining three pods: agriculture pod, which is where they live, terraforming-elements pod, and solar arrays.”

  “So they owned this ship free and clear?” Lud sounded unconvinced.

  Xavier’s long, thin fingers gripped the console as his whip-like anger escaped his control. “Do you want me to show you the fucking bill of sale? Out here, ships are the property of whoever can claim them.”

  Even with Sam’s complete lack of knowledge regarding such things, he was pretty sure the word pirate was just about to come out of Lud’s mouth. Sam was discovering that every pirate had a different code of conduct.

  “You’re talking about running this ship back to the inner planets, Xav. There’s bound to be questions about where she came from,” Lud said.

  Xavier balled his fingers into fists against the ship’s console. “Look, that’s the deal. Once she’s fixed up, you’re all free to do what you want. But the only way we’re getting back is to get this junk moving. Since when did you ever worry about the legalities?”

  Having delivered his pep talk, Xavier left the crew to their duties. Only Sam and Lud remained on the bridge. Dust from the decaying chairs, wiring, and carpet mixed with smells of people, some present, some only ghosts. The ship had originally supported a crew of ten, but that number had been cut in half as improved technology was crammed in next to the old. The computer consoles looked like some kid’s attempt at building an interface to hack game systems. Joysticks, knobs, and levers no one used even a hundred years ago had been grafted onto the workstations.

  Lud tried out the captain’s chair. “How do you suppose they flew this thing? Just point it at a coordinate and hit the engines?”

  Sam threw one of the levers to full speed. Nothing happened. “Probably not far off. There was a belief computers could do a more accurate job than humans back then.”

  Lud, too, played with the controls and received a similar lack of response. “My dad had an antique automobile in his garage. He kept futzing with it. Eventually got it to run. Then destroyed some part by not pushing the correct pedal while throwing the joystick into the wrong position. I suppose this is on you—getting these controls to do something.”

  “You know all those old space-adventure stories?” Sam asked. “The ones where the ship is damaged and the crew needs to get home? They always separate the bridge, which magically has its own source of propulsion.”

  Lud shook his head in disgust. “Hate those stories. So wildly inaccurate. You know, it’s not just the engines. For an escape vehicle, the crew would need fuel too—fuel that ship designers conveniently kept as far from the bridge as possible.”

  “Exactly,” Sam said. “But you need the operating system, which was always assumed to be on the bridge. This was never really the case, not even in the earliest oceangoing ships. The bridge would tell the engine room what to do, then someone would operate the real controls in the engine bay.”

  Lud’s confident smile put him at ease. “I knew I liked you.”

  “Yeah, well, if you can’t separate the bridge into a lifeboat, separate the engines.” Sam rubbed at his neck, knowing what he was in for.

  “You mean the real ship computer is back there?” Lud hitched his thumb back along the mile-long delicate cord that connected the bridge to his precious engines.

  Sam bobbed his head from side to side. “More like a spinal-cord computer. Think of it like a simplified human body. The long, hollow cord that runs the length of the ship is the brain and nervous system.”

  Sam held the fingers of his two hands together to form a tube then spread them a little wider. “Around that first tube is a second layer that works like a blood-circulating system delivering energy throughout the ship.”

  His fingers spread once again. “And around that is the life-support system. Like the human body, branches stretch off that main line out to the organs and extremities.”

  “Makes sense, but where do those branches go if the pods are removable?” Lud asked.

  Sam formed a circle with his open fist and ran a finger from his other hand into it. “The pods have connector ports. Some pods are simple storage containers needing only the most basic ship support, and some, like the life pod where people live, need tens of thousands of connections along that cord. Since the builders of the ship didn’t know what it’d be used for, they figured the more connections, the better.”

  “And that’s what you’ll be working on—fixing that central nervous system?” Lud asked.

  Sam ran his hand through his dark-red hair. “Well, there’s still life support all along the ship. So we know the spinal cord hasn’t been cut from the outside. If it had, all the systems would stop working somewhere along the line.”

  “Using your analogy, it’s like a spinal injury where the person has lost control of their limbs but their organs still work?” Lud’s question gave Sam a new insight into the big man’s intelligence.

  “Exactly. We can’t make contact with the engines, can’t communicate with the people in the agro pod, can’t do much of anything, but all the basics are still working.”

  Lud squeezed his eyes shut. “How does that happen?”

  Sam bit his lip a
s the pieces of the puzzle came together. “You remember Leviathan was taken over by the military? The pods they built weren’t meant for sustaining life.”

  “I would guess not. More like launch pads for fighters or remote-controlled-weapons platforms.”

  In the cold, dark bridge, Sam found it hard to envision the ship as an active military weapon. “That’s my thinking. Now, look at it from Leviathan’s perspective. Somewhere on the bridge, she’s told to pump more air into pod number two, for example. The life system does as it’s told. But the feedback loop, the nervous system, responds that the guns have been fired. Enemy destroyed.”

  Lud controlled his laugh to one single burst. “You’re personifying the ship too much.”

  “Am I? My hypothesis is that the ship did work as a person would. The brain would conclude that it had made a mistake. It would reroute its systems, try other connections.”

  Lud grimaced. “It’d go insane.”

  Slowly Sam nodded. “She’d become unpredictable. Push a button on the bridge, and you’d have no idea what would happen. So the military overrode the computer software, tried to lobotomize the poor girl.”

  Lud let out a whistle from between his teeth. “Amazing she performed at all.”

  “As Xavier said, she’s a survivor. That mile-long tube of connections figured out some way around all the obstacles.” Sam had a growing admiration for the ship filled with so much history.

  “But she did work,” Lud said. “And now she doesn’t. The military finished with her long ago. What’s changed recently to make her nonfunctional?”

  That was the real question, the one Sam had struggled with during the long trip out to the Kuiper Belt. “I have to get into that computer core, the inside of the spinal cord, to find the answer to that.”

  “And that’s what we’re doing up here on the bridge?”