by JN Chaney
At the same time, the Union cruiser was on its way to our location, flying in the opposite direction through slipspace. We would pass each other soon, unaware of the other’s presence.
Entering Union space wasn’t the most ideal scenario, I had to admit, but it was better than waiting three days to return to Taurus Station. Aside from Abigail’s health, there was also the matter of our cargo, which had to be sold so I could pay Fratley back before the end of the week.
The deadline was fast approaching, and I couldn’t risk bringing Fratley’s wrath down on me. One way or the other, I had to get that bastard his money.
Fifteen
I made it a point to avoid Union space, whenever possible. I’d crossed the border when I had to, depending on the job, but there were always certain risks involved. Risks that generally outweighed the dangers of operating within the Deadlands.
Sure, the Deadlands had ravagers, thieves, pirates, and Sarkonians, but at least I never had to deal with Union checkpoints or military envoys. I could always handle a few small pirate ships, but the Union controlled the largest and most powerful armada in the galaxy. That was the kind of trouble you just didn’t want.
Union space also had several long-range buoys to monitor border activity. If one of them caught a glimpse of you, there was a chance you’d end up having a rough time. Hell, I even had to watch where and how I used my cloak, since the technology was illegal here.
And now I was back, perhaps to my own detriment. But Fratley needed his money, and I needed to live, which meant I didn’t have the luxury of being cautious.
“We will arrive at Taurus Station in approximately six hours,” Sigmond told me as we raised the cloak and set out from the slip tunnel.
“Keep your eyes out for any sign of Union activity,” I said. “I don’t want us anywhere near one of their ships.”
“I will adjust our route, should the situation call for it.”
“Good man,” I said, sitting in my bed.
I hadn’t bothered telling the others about the cruiser we spotted near the tunnel. There was no need for them to know that the Union was inside the Deadlands. Maybe I’d inform them later, but with everything that had happened to the church, to Abigail, and to all of us, I knew they didn’t need to know. Not right now.
My head swirled in a fog as I sat on the bed. I’d been increasingly exhausted these last few days, a testament to how overworked I was, most likely.
I leaned back in my bunk and felt the soft embrace of my pillow, falling straight to sleep as soon as my eyes closed.
When I opened my eyes, I felt a stiffness in my jaw, and sat up. Glancing at my pad, I saw we were nearly at our destination. Half an hour more. Five and a half hours had gone by in a blink.
I yawned. “Siggy, put me through to our guests, would you?”
“Right away, sir,” he confirmed. “Speak when you’re ready.”
I cleared my throat, wiping the grime from my eyes. “Everyone, we’ll be at Taurus in a few,” I announced, and I heard my voice over the coms outside my room. “Pack your shit and standby.”
Elegantly put,” remarked Sigmond.
I threw a shirt on and cracked my back, then took a drink from my water jug. As I stood, I heard something against my door. It wasn’t quite a knock. More like a light tap.
I opened it and looked down to see Lex standing alone in front of me.
“Mr. Hughes, you sleep too much,” said the little albino.
“What do you want, kid?”
“I’m hungry, but there’s no more food.”
“We’re out already?”
I went to the food dispenser and opened all the cabinets, finding most of it empty. There were a few pieces of jerky, but not much else to speak of. “Damn, you people cleaned me out.”
“Can I have something, please?” asked Lex. “My stomach hurts.”
I offered her a piece of jerky. “Eat up.”
She smelled it and, twisting her nose, quickly shoved it back in my hand. “Gross!”
I bit into it, munching on the processed meat. “What’s wrong? Not a fan of jerky?”
“It smells like butt.”
“What? You don’t like butts?” I asked, taking a whiff of the meat.
She giggled at my joke. “Ew.”
“Tell you what,” I said, taking a piece of candy from my side pocket. “Eat half a stick of jerky and you can have a sweet. What do you say, kid?”
Her eyes widened at the sight of the treat. “I can have that?”
“Sure, but you gotta eat the other thing first.”
She looked at the meat, then back at the candy. “Um.”
I stuck out my hand with the jerky. “Here.”
She took it, a little reluctantly. With her eyes on the candy, she bit into the meat, chewing slowly.
“Well?” I asked, watching her make what I was certain was the ultimate sacrifice.
She seemed to relax as she continued to eat. “It’s okay,” she said, swallowing and taking another bite. She looked up at me. “Still not good, though.”
I laughed. “Here you go, kid.” I tossed the candy and she caught it, the jerky hanging out of her mouth.
“Wow!” she exclaimed.
“Eat the jerky first, then you can have the candy. Got it?”
She nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Hughes!”
I left with the second piece of jerky, eating it while I made my way to the hangar bay. Lex followed after me, munching on her own food as fast as she could. By the time we reached the end of the hall, she was unwrapping the candy, a giddy expression on her face.
Hitchens had been spending a fair amount of time in the cargo bay since we left the asteroid belt. I had, before now, left him to do his work in peace, but we were drawing close to the station now and I wanted to make sure our cargo was fully intact.
“Ah, Captain Hughes,” said the doctor as I made my way down the steps. He had several of the relics we’d found in the mine placed neatly around the floor. Each one had an piece of paper attached to it with an identification number written on it, most likely to help keep track of the inventory.
“Looks like you’re staying busy,” I said, looking at one of the machines. Its tag read 021.
“I’ve been organizing our collection,” he explained.
“Which of these are you keeping and which are we selling?”
“Items one through eight are to remain in my possession.”
“How high does the list go?”
“Forty-six,” he said. “Not quite the catalog we once had, but still a respectable collection.”
I did the math in my head. “So we’re selling…thirty-seven?”
“Thirty-eight,” he corrected, an always-respectful tone in his voice.
“I kept meaning to ask, but why did you have all this shit stored in that mine in the first place?”
“The Council saw the need to keep our findings hidden, should the Union or another party such as that Fratley fellow ever see fit to invade Arcadia. I was opposed to the notion originally, but it seems the Council was correct to insist upon it. Loralin, specifically, if memory serves.” He wiped some sweat from his brow with a small, red handkerchief, then paused for several seconds, like he was lost in thought.
“Doc, are you okay?” I asked, snapping my fingers.
He blinked. “Oh, I apologize, Captain. I was thinking about them again. Our friends in the Church. They’re still heavy on my mind, it seems.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, as I was saying, the technology itself was something of a mystery when we first discovered it. We had little information about what each of these machines actually did.”
“And now?” I asked, looking at the dozens of devices scattered neatly across my ship’s floor.
“Sadly, most are inactive,” he explained. “The only exceptions are the eight I mentioned before.”
“That one’s my favorite,” said Lex. Her voice caught me off guard. I’d forgotten she was even there. She pointed to
a small box in the corner, near Hitchens.
“Ah, yes. Such an exquisite find,” he said.
Lex ran to it and picked it up. As she touched it, I was surprised to see it brighten, a small light emanating from its surface, followed by a soft, melodic series of tones.
Lex smiled, giggling at the sounds. “Isn’t it pretty?”
I listened, intently, but couldn’t recognize the song, if that’s what it truly was.
“Lex has been assisting me,” said Hitchens.
I put out my hand to Lex. “Can I see that?”
She smiled and gave me the box. The second it left her hand, the music stopped and the light grew dim and empty.
“As you can see, Lex’s mark allows her to interact with each of these objects. It’s quite remarkable.”
“You’re talking about her tattoo,” I said, glancing at the blue lines on her neck. An image of Lex sitting in the mysterious chair inside the cave swept through my mind.
“Exactly right, Captain. The mark gives her the ability to activate each and every one of these machines. Why that is, I don’t fully understand, but her very proximity is often enough to bring them online.”
I still had trouble believing that the girl could do what he was suggesting. Since when did a tattoo give someone the ability to activate anything? Most of the time, they were just an eyesore.
Even if it was true, who would give such a valuable thing to a little kid?
“Some don’t work, though,” said Lex, frowning. She pointed to the other machines.
“Indeed. Only the eight are operational, and I had to replace several parts in each to get them working.”
“You fixed them?” I asked, handing the box back to Lex.
She took it and the music started up again, and she smiled.
“Thankfully, yes,” said Hitchens. “I was able to salvage pieces from a few of them to fix these eight. This technology is nearly two thousand years old, so most of them had at least one broken part. I’m actually surprised I was able to get any of them to work in the first place.”
“What about the map you found? How did you know it would work if it was so old? Did you know it would work before we went all the way out there?”
He let out a short laugh. “Heavens no, Captain. I wasn’t even certain Lex existed until Sister Abigail brought her back. For that matter, putting her in that chair was only a theory.”
“A theory?” I asked.
He nodded. “I didn’t have time to perform any tests on her before we left. The only information we had came from the notes we stole from that Union lab. When you and Ms. Pryar arrived, the rest of us had to move quickly.”
I looked at Lex, who was humming along with the machine, bouncing from one foot to the other. She walked to the stairs at the back of the bay and sat down. “That’s quite a gamble you took,” I said, turning back to him.
“You have to understand. Lex is unique. Part of her tattoo resembles the emblem on the Cartographer, so we knew there had to be a connection.”
“You had to know they’d come after her,” I said.
“We did,” said Hitchens. “Frankly, we were fortunate to get the child home when we did.”
“And you really think that map you found leads to Earth?”
“I wouldn’t be risking my life and career if I didn’t.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, Doc, I hope you’re right.”
“Thank you, Captain. That means a great deal, considering your doubts.”
“I may find the whole thing ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be true.”
“I appreciate your skepticism,” said the doctor, a slight smile on his face. Perhaps one day you’ll have the proof you need to believe.”
I laughed. “Now, wouldn’t that be something?”
* * *
We arrived at Taurus, but had to wait in line over an hour before they let us dock. A bit unusual in my experience.
Sigmond brought the ship in once we got the go-ahead, and I felt a sweeping relief wash over me as the station locked its docking clamp around The Renegade Star’s airlock.
I met everyone in the hall. They each had their bags in hand and ready to disembark. I could see the eagerness on a few of their faces. After days in a cramped ship, they had to be ready for something with a little more area to it. Maybe a room with a raised ceiling, such as the promenade.
“Everyone ready?” I asked, tapping in my access code to open the airlock.
Abigail stood next to Lex and Octavia. She looked better than before, much less dazed, but still tired.
I gave her a nod and she returned it.
The door slid up and a cold breeze hit us, sweeping through the inner hall of my ship. It felt refreshing, just like every other visit. The fresh air conditioning reminded me that I needed to replace the one on The Star.
Freddie reached out his hand. “Thank you for the safe journey, Captain.”
I shook it. “Not a problem.”
“We’ll be at the hotel on deck 4. I’ll be using my name, so ask for Tabernacle.”
“Taber-what?”
“Tabernacle. That’s my last name.”
I raised my eye at him. “Since when?”
He laughed and shook his head, like I’d said a joke, then walked through the door and into the station.
Everyone followed, disembarking the ship. As most of them continued toward the promenade, Hitchens paused at my side, along with Octavia. “Captain, shall we accompany you to see your man?”
“My man?” I asked.
He looked around, even though no one was there, and leaned in. He covered the side of his mouth and whispered, “You know…the dealer.”
I pushed his hand away. “His name is Ollie, and sure, you can come if you want. Try to relax, though. This isn’t a spy movie.”
He clasped his hands together. “Oh, wonderful!” he exclaimed as we began to walk down the platform. “This will be so exciting.”
The promenade was less congested than I expected, especially during this time of day. Typically, there was a decent-sized crowd gathering around the shops and bars. Travelers, mostly, and tourists. It made it easy for people like myself to blend in.
Ollie’s shop wasn’t far from where we pulled in. I knew he’d be there, too, since the poor schmuck never took a day off. Whatever he was, Ollie was reliable.
“Jace!” he yelled when he saw me coming.
I nodded at him. “Ollie. Good to see you.”
“You’ve been gone a bit longer than I expected. What happened with that job? You know, the one with the nun. I’m still waiting on my cut, by the way. When are you gonna pay me?”
“It got complicated,” I said, approaching the counter. “Haven’t had time to send the money yet, but I’ll take care of it after this.”
“Yeah, you better, pal,” he said. Ollie had one of his suits on today. Turquoise blue with a little gold trim. Not exactly my kind of thing, but somehow it worked for him. “You ought to bring me something nice when you stay away for so long.”
“You’re the one who sells cheap souvenirs. I figured you had enough to last a lifetime.”
“I’ll have you know, my goods make the best gifts on the station. Ask anyone who shops here. Anyway, who are your friends?” asked Ollie.
“His name is Hitchens,” I explained. “He’s a professor. This is his assistant, Octavia”
“A doctor of archaeology, actually. Not a professor,” corrected Hitchens.
I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. He’s here to help explain the cargo I need to sell, in case you have questions.”
“Cargo?” asked Ollie.
“We picked up some old tech. I think it’s pre-Union. Since you’re in the market of selling useless shit to rich idiots, I thought you’d be the guy to talk to.”
“Damn, and this whole time I thought you were stopping by because you missed my face.”
“The catalogue includes over three dozen items,” said Hitch
ens.
“I’ll have to take a look before I say for sure. Did you bring anything with you?”
Hitchens opened his satchel and set a small metallic object on the countertop. It was bronze and circular, interwoven with beautiful designs. The carvings, I noticed, were remarkably similar to Lex’s tattoo.
Ollie’s eyes widened at the sight of the machine. “Oh, well, look at that.”
“This particular artifact is, by my estimates, 1300 years old,” said Hitchens.
Ollie took out a small device, which could only be a scanner, and waved it along the relic. A light blinked, and Ollie grinned. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.” He looked up at me. “Jace, you always bring me the best stuff.”
“Glad you like it,” I said.
“Higgins, is the rest of your supply like this?” asked Ollie.
“It’s Hitchens,” corrected the doctor. “But to answer your question, it most certainly is.”
Ollie’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah, Jace. I can sell this for sure. Let’s go get the rest and I’ll set up a meeting with some buyers first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be needing the usual 10% to cover my fee, naturally.”
“How much do you think you can get?” I asked.
“If the rest of the merchandise is like this? I’d say you could be looking at a hundred thousand, easy.”
I blinked. “Seriously? A hundred thousand for a bunch of machines?”
Ollie laughed. “Look around this shop,” he said, waving his hand at the array of tiny trinkets, made primarily with discarded junk. “You should know by now that people will buy just about anything if you tell them it’s worth something.”
“But these machines are valuable,” insisted Hitchens.
“It’s garbage,” said Ollie. “But it’s old as shit, and that means it’s valuable.”
Hitchens dropped his mouth like he was insulted. “But—”
“Let it go, Doc,” I said, touching his shoulder. “Ollie can call our cargo garbage all he wants, so long as he delivers the right payment.”
“Trust me,” said Ollie with the same bravado I’d witnessed so many times before. “No one knows this business better than me.”
* * *
Ollie, Octavia, and I moved the thirty-eight artifacts from my cargo bay and unloaded them into the back room of the shop. He was eager to start making calls to his associates, so the rest of us agreed to give him some space.