Architects of Destiny

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by Amy DuBoff


  Thom had watched him closely at every step. A navigation system was a sensitive piece of equipment for a stranger to access, but there was no other way to vet a new Navigator. “That looks right to me. Except add a few days to the time estimate to account for longer stops so we can sleep.”

  “I’m happy to change the stopovers if you’d prefer—”

  “No, the locations are fine. You did everything correctly.” Thom crossed his arms. “I’m just surprised someone your age has experience with course plotting. You can’t be much older than what, sixteen?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  The captain looked pensive. “I suppose not. That’s legal age for crew work.”

  “Does that mean I have the job?”

  The captain smiled amiably. “Shite, why not? Some company would be better than none. You can be my Navigation Officer for the trip to Gallos—for starters—in exchange for room and board. If it works out, we can negotiate a salary for the next run.”

  It’s more than a little ironic I’d end up working as a Navigator after being groomed as an heir to SiNavTech. “That’s a reasonable offer. I accept.”

  Thom nodded. “Good.” He looked Cris over again. “I have three rules. First, no stealing from me or other members of the crew. Second, no picking fights. And lastly, I won’t ask you prying questions if you don’t ask them of me.”

  That last one works to my advantage. “Agreed.”

  The captain turned the palm of his right hand upward in greeting, the Taran custom for new acquaintances who had not yet earned the trust of physical contact. “Welcome to the Exler.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Amazed by his good fortune, Cris accompanied Thom from the flight deck into the belly of the Exler. The captain introduced him to the two other crew members, Dom and Neal—both thick, muscled men in their thirties who were responsible for the cargo hold—and gave him a tour of the ship. There was little to see beyond the cargo area, workout room, kitchen and common washroom. Though it was simply appointed and lacked many of the comforts Cris had grown up with on Tararia, the Exler was clean enough and mechanically well-maintained from what he could tell.

  The last stop in the tour was Cris’ new quarters. It was a tiny room with only a bunk, toilet, sink and storage locker. Cris smiled politely when he saw the space, and Thom left him to get settled in. When he was alone, Cris set down his bag and looked around the modest accommodations. I need to reset my expectations.

  He sat down on the bunk to test it. The mattress was firmer than he would prefer, but it was sufficient. I wanted to see what life was really like outside the Sietinen estate. It doesn’t get more authentic than this. He took a deep breath. My entire life is changing.

  He gave himself a few minutes to clear his head and then made his way up to the flight deck. Thom was waiting for him. “Ready to head out?” Cris asked.

  “Yes. All stocked and ready to get underway,” Thom confirmed.

  Cris brought up the saved beacon sequence he had plotted during his interview and set it as the active course in the navigation computer. He locked in the first segment of the trip, a series of five beacons. “All set.”

  Thom smiled. “Let’s go.” He strapped into his chair and triggered buttons and switches at the front of the flight deck. A holographic control interface illuminated over the front panels. Using a combination of the holographic display and buttons beneath, Thom undocked the Exler and used thrusters to direct the ship away from the space station.

  Anticipation swelled in Cris’ chest. I’m leaving for real.

  When the space station orbiting Tararia was a distant speck, Thom activated the jump drive.

  A hum filled the air as the drive charged. The entire ship began to vibrate, rattling every rivet. It felt like the ship was going to fall apart, but Cris tried to hide his worry. As the vibration crescendoed, a shifting blue-green aura formed around the ship. It grew steadily brighter and more solid, drawing the ship inward. For a moment, time elongated. The ship slipped into subspace.

  Cris let out a slow breath as the rattling subsided. The view through the front window was nothing but shifting blue-green light.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Thom said.

  “It really is.” Cris had taken previous trips via subspace, but the mode of travel was still a novel experience. Even more rarely had he been able to look outside while in transit. I could get used to this.

  The first sequence of beacons would take several hours to traverse. Cris and Thom settled in for the journey, keeping a casual eye on the navigation beacon locks to make sure they stayed on course. It was uncomfortably quiet.

  As much as Cris wanted to be social, he knew his background was very different from Thom’s. He had little way of knowing what might give him away as High Dynasty. What’s a safe topic?

  Silence was the safest option, but Cris’ lack of sleep from his midnight escape began to catch up with him. He knew he needed some conversation or he wouldn’t make it through the rest of the jump.

  “So, Thom,” Cris said, breaking the silence, “what’s the craziest cargo you’ve ever had to transport? If it’s not something confidential.”

  Thom smiled. “A herd of horses.”

  “Horses, really?”

  The captain nodded. “I imagine you haven’t been out to the far colonies. Some worlds that have taken a more agrarian approach to life. They prefer horses to hoverscooters.”

  “Go figure.”

  Thom chuckled. “It was messy business. Sweet animals, but I’ll take a depleted power cell over a pile of manure any day.”

  Cris laughed. “I’m with you.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Thom leaned back in his chair. “I now make it a point to steer away from any cargo that isn’t inanimate and doesn’t fit neatly into a crate.”

  Thank the stars! I think I would have needed to find another ship. “A valid approach.”

  “I’ve been doing lots of textiles transportation for Baellas recently.”

  Clothing and home furnishings weren’t the most grand of the High Dynastic ventures, but important nonetheless. “Is that what we have onboard now?”

  “Yes, but I’m ready to switch things up after completing this delivery.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Cris asked.

  “I heard about some new food distribution contracts with Makaris Corp in the outer colonies. It’d be steady work for several months at a time. I don’t particularly love it out there, but can’t argue with the pay.”

  Cris nodded. “That does sound like good, steady work.” Food and water filters were a necessity everywhere. Makaris’ rank as the third most powerful Dynasty was only constrained by the reliance on SiNavTech’s navigation network and VComm for communications.

  “I’ve learned that it all comes down to the specific contract terms. It doesn’t really matter what the cargo is when it’s all packaged up. In the end, all of the Big 6 are pretty much the same to work for.”

  Cris’ brow furrowed in spite of himself.

  Thom must have noticed Cris’ confusion. “The six High Dynasties,” he clarified.

  “Oh, thanks,” Cris said as casually as he could. “Haven’t heard that before.” So they call us “the Big 6,” huh?

  “I had already pegged you for the inner colonies, but that confirms it.”

  “Tararia itself, actually.” Cris regretted the statement the moment he spoke.

  The captain nodded. “I’m not surprised. Well, out here, you’ll hear a lot of different opinions about the Big 6. Generally speaking, the farther out you go, the less favorable they will become.”

  “Interesting.” I’ll have to watch what I say.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Thom continued. “Tarans in aggregate recognize the importance of the core services the Big 6 provide, but most worlds try to have their own identity. The descendants of the older colonies even look and sound different—an entirely divergent race from a native Tararian like yourself. To
them, the High Dynasties and the Priesthood feel like very distant, disconnected, and often inconvenient overlords.”

  But without those services fulfilled by the High Dynasties’ companies, everything would fall apart. “I could see that.”

  “Since the outer colonies try to make it on their own as much as possible, they sometimes get neglected by the central oligarchy. It’s one of the reasons I was looking to pick up those Makaris contracts.”

  “That’s good of you.” My instruction always made it sound like it was equal access and opportunity for all the colonies. Maybe that’s not the case.

  “Well, first we have to offload this Baellas shipment. Need to take it one contract at a time.”

  Cris smiled. “Of course.”

  Thom sat up straight. “Hey, do you know how to play Fastara?”

  Cris hesitated. What in the stars is Fastara? “I can’t say I do.”

  “Hold on.” Thom searched through a cabinet near his seat and produced a deck of plastic playing cards. He removed them from their clear box and fanned them out. There were a series of symbols in different colors on the cards. “I’ll teach you. There’s no better way to pass the time out here.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Thom deactivated the holographic course projection from the navigation console and moved the most vital information to a heads-up display over the front window. The touchscreen top of the console became a perfect tabletop for laying out the game.

  “The objective is to win,” Thom said with a toothy grin.

  Thom went over a series of rules that Cris tried his best to follow. There were a lot of contingencies based on the specific cards in play. After a few confusing explanation attempts, Thom dealt out the first game and walked Cris through an open-hand demonstration. Even with the coaching, Thom won by a ridiculous margin. They played three more rounds in the same manner before switching over to private hands. Cris was still terrible at the game, but he started to understand the mechanics.

  The time indeed passed quickly with the game. Cris was startled when the navigation system flashed, indicating their approach to the exit beacon in the sequence. They cleared the game and moved the display back to the center console.

  With a shudder, the ship dropped back into normal space. The swirling blue-green dissipated and they were once again surrounded by blackness and stars.

  Cris looked at the map. It was officially the farthest he had ever been from home. “Jump complete.” They’ll have a hard time finding me now.

  “Now we take a break,” Thom said as he got up from his chair. “The jump drive only needs four hours to cool down, but we’ll stay here for eight so we can get some sleep. After this, we’ll do two jumps in a day.”

  “That works for me.” Cris got up from his seat, feeling stiff after remaining stationary for so long. “Hey… Thank you for the job.”

  “Everyone deserves the chance to start a new life,” Thom said. “Get some rest.”

  Cris went to his room and got into bed. The ship’s engines produced the perfect background hum to lull Cris to sleep. I’m free.

  *

  An alarm sounded, echoing through the tiny metal room. Cris’ eyes shot open. A red light strobed above his door. Stars! What’s going on?

  He rolled off his bed, clutching his ears to muffle the alarm. Are we under attack? The metal deck plates felt like ice under his bare feet. Wearing only pajama pants and a t-shirt, he stumbled toward the door. Something didn’t feel right.

  Cris’ stomach turned over. He tried to take a step and couldn’t get traction. Slowly, he lifted off the ground. The artificial gravity is shut off! Shite! He continued to drift upward as he struggled. A acidic burn filled the back of his throat, a combination of nerves and the weightlessness. I’m going to be sick. He grasped at the walls and managed to propel himself toward the toilet in the corner. No sooner had he raised the lid then his stomach emptied. He coughed and spat for a moment, only to be horrified to see the vomit rising upward without gravity to hold it down. He slammed the lid down to trap the contents in the toilet bowl.

  Still feeling queasy, he gripped the wall and shimmied himself back toward the door. He hit the release to slide it open.

  Red light strobed in the hallway, casting eerie shadows across the riveted planes. Cris’ heart raced. Where is everyone? Are we going to die? His heart pounded in his ears. The taste of sick still in his mouth made him want to hurl again. He tried to suppress the feeling as he gripped the bulkhead outside his door to move toward the flight deck.

  “Thom!” No reply. Cris inched along the wall, afraid to let go. He couldn’t hear anything over the deafening alarm and the pounding in his ears. “Thom, where are you?”

  Cris made it to the gym and opened the door. Empty. He knocked on the doors to Dom and Neal’s rooms, but there was no reply. He kept pushing forward. As he approached the kitchen, the door slid open.

  Inside, the three other members of the crew were floating comfortably in midair. Thom was grinning and Dom and Neal were laughing hysterically.

  Cris stared at them in shock. “What…?”

  Thom laughed at Cris’ bewildered expression. “You didn’t think you could come onboard without a little hazing, did you?”

  Cris felt his face flush. “So there isn’t an emergency.”

  “Not at all.” Thom hit a button on the wall and the alarm silenced, though the red flashing light remained. “However, I am pleased to report that all emergency systems are functioning perfectly.”

  Bomax. Cris steadied himself against the doorframe, his ears still ringing from the alarm. “Well played.”

  “So sullen! It was all in good fun,” Thom said.

  Right. “Now can you restore the gravity? I feel like I’m going to puke again.”

  Dom and Neal burst into another round of laughter.

  Thom looked slightly apologetic. “Again? You planet-lovers never fair so well at first. Cleaning supplies are in the cabinet over here, if you need anything.”

  No more servants to pick up after me. “Thanks. I think most of it was… contained.”

  “Well, let’s get you back on your feet.” The captain glided toward the door.

  Cris eased out of the way so Thom could get by, and then followed him through the hall toward the darkened flight deck.

  Thom pulled himself into the pilot’s seat. Even in the challenging light of the red strobe, he easily manipulated the buttons and switches on the control panel. “This is why we have physical buttons rather than exclusively touchscreen interfaces,” he said. “You can run on backup batteries for days this way. Holographics are a massive power drain. And difficult to control in zero-G.”

  “Ah, I was wondering.” I can’t believe they messed with me like that.

  The red light was replaced by the normal soft yellow ambiance. Simultaneously, Cris felt himself drawn toward the floor, and he repositioned accordingly. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as his bare feet made contact with the ground once more. His stomach settled. “That’s better.” I hope I’m cut out for life in space.

  Thom beamed. “Congratulations. You’ve been officially inducted.”

  Yay. “I’m going back to bed.” He heard Thom chuckling in the flight deck all the way back to his room.

  CHAPTER 4

  Over the next several days, Cris embraced his place in the Exler’s crew and set aside thoughts of his old life. By sheer will, he fell into the ways of space and vowed to leave behind his former existence. He spent long hours in the flight deck with Thom, hanging on every word of the captain’s stories. As Thom promised, Cris was never asked intrusive questions and he never pressed Thom.

  His daily activities were nothing like his schooling on Tararia, and Cris relished the change. By ship’s day, he kept Thom company in the flight deck while they traversed the vast network connecting the star systems. It was the first real contact Cris had ever had with the impressive SiNavTech infrastructure, and he couldn’t help but feel pride f
or what his family had built over the generations.

  As the days stretched on, Cris incrementally improved his skills with Fastara. He could only win one in twenty games against Thom—if the captain got a particularly bad draw—but it was progress. Ultimately, the win rate didn’t matter; life was good if the biggest decision he had to make was regarding which card to play.

  The jumps toward Gallos grew monotonous. By the end, Cris was ready to see more than the four rooms where he’d spent the majority of his time for the last two weeks. Though some of their stopovers were near space stations, Thom insisted it wasn’t worth the docking fees to berth. They were confined to the Exler until they reached their destination.

  The final jumps went by quickly, knowing they were nearing the end. When they dropped out of subspace after the last jump, Cris’ heart leaped with excitement as he glimpsed the distant outline of a sprawling space station. Gallos. Finally.

  He had learned from Thom that the Gallos System was a commercial hub for the surrounding colonies. Its central space station dwarfed even the massive port at Tararia. There were rambling offshoots in every direction, seemingly constructed to meet ad hoc demands for expansion over the years. The result was a daunting labyrinth of corridors and gangways where Cris imagined a person could get lost and never be seen again. He gulped.

  “We have a docking reservation where our client is meeting us,” Thom stated. “I’ll go to the Makaris field office later today to talk about a distribution contract.”

  “What should I do?” Cris asked.

  Thom rubbed his chin. “Are you interested in staying on with me?”

  He’s been good to me, even if it’s been a little boring at times. I can’t imagine a much better setup. Cris nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

  “I can offer you continued room and board, plus five percent of my profits.”

  That’s probably a terrible deal, but I don’t need the money. “That works.”

  Thom seemed surprised. “Okay, well good. You’ve been great company. It’ll be nice having you around.”

 

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