Mission Pack 3: Missions 9-12 (Black Ocean Mission Pack)

by J. S. Morin

  “I didn’t hurt her. She was stopping me from destroying an AI that thinks it’s a wizard.”

  “I was a wizard before your father wore his first diaper!” Archie shouted from the door he was still struggling to open.

  Cedric pointed. “See? Now help me finish him off. It’ll look good for the council if I can tell them you’re still following the tenets.” He clenched a fist in Archie’s direction, but all Esper could feel was the smothering blanket of Mort’s presence.

  “None of that. This is Professor Archimedes Antonopoulos, formerly of Harvard.”

  “You’re as daft as he is. And why isn’t my magic doing anything all of a sudden? You couldn’t stop my darts at the pub.”

  Mort shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve lost at anything magic-related. I wrestled a creature that’d convinced a world it was god. You’re not in that weight class yet. Maybe someday. For a lad, you’ve got some spunk in you.”

  “Spunk? How dare you!”

  Mort made a rude noise. “Enough with the self-importance. Hell, half the reason the Convocation puts up with the Order of Prometheus is so there’s someone to look out for you hapless landscapers when you’re outside secure space. And I’ve had more than my share of practice putting the kibosh on angry wizards these past twenty-three years.”

  Esper couldn’t help her pedantry. “I thought you left Earth twenty-one years ago.”

  “Yes, but the last two back home were a bit contentious. Guardians of the Plundered Tomes aren’t popular, as a rule. Everyone thinks their personal research project is the exception to the rules. But that’s neither here nor there. Now, let’s ease off the attempts to turn Professor Antonopoulos into a piece of modern art and turn in for the night.”

  Cedric climbed to his feet, not taking his eyes off Archie. “No. I can’t be a part of this. You may be able to thwart my magic, but you’re not going to stop me. I’ll contact the Convocation. They’ll send a team out to find this thing that thinks it’s a wizard. They’ll stop it before it builds more like it and destroys us all. I can only hope you see the truth before it’s too late.”

  With that, Cedric forced his way past his father. Esper reached out to grab him on the way by, but Mort stopped her with an upraised hand. “Let him go. Some things aren’t meant to be.”

  Archie crept toward the entrance to the alley, using Mort to shield himself from view in case Cedric looked back. “Thanks, Mordecai. Nice to meet someone with an open mind.”

  Mort replied with a tight smile. “Well, if you two wouldn’t mind getting a head start back to the Mobius, I’ve got a little business to handle. Ran a bit too far on a full bladder, and there’s a fine tradition involving alleys.”

  # # #

  Carl, Roddy, and Juggler were in the middle of a game of Omnithrust Racer when Esper returned with Archie. Pausing the game, Carl held out a hand and waited as the laaku tossed him a five-terra coin. “He didn’t think Archie was going to make it.”

  One of the robot’s eyes went dark as the other stared Roddy’s way. “Nice to know who’s concerned for my well-being around here.”

  “It was five small, chief. I wasn’t wishing you dead or anything, just making the wait more interesting.”

  Carl watched the cargo bay door. No one else came in. “Where’s Mort?”

  “Relieving himself in public, last we left him,” Archie replied.

  Esper sighed. “After he chased off Cedric, it seemed a little rude to remind him about public decency laws.”

  The door to Yomin’s quarters swung open. “Archie! You’re alive!” She bounded over and wrapped the robot in a hug that would have crushed the air from his lungs if he’d had any.

  With obvious hesitation, Archie wrapped an arm around her in return and patted her back. “Well, no thanks to that boy of Mordecai’s. I don’t fancy you’ll be seeing any more of him so long as you’re associated with me.”

  Carl cleared his throat. There was time enough down the road for debriefings, but for now it was time to do some captaining. “Just to be clear, are we escaping from anything at the moment? Did Junior run off to the planetary authorities? Anything like that? Amy’s up in the cockpit, ready to lay a trail of ions if we need to leave in a hurry.”

  “You can have her stand down. Mort’s lagging behind, but he’ll be along soon enough.”

  “Anything keeping us here? Not exactly a hot-spot for supplies.”

  Roddy grunted. “Can say that again.”

  Carl obliged. “Not exactly a hot-spot for supplies. Plus, we’ve got some ideas for our next job, and it’d be nice to get back outside ARGO space.”

  Esper glanced at the closed door to her quarters. “Well, I’ve got one errand to run, but then I’m good to leave.”

  Carl clapped his hands. “Great.”

  Just as he was about to resume the race on the holo-projector, Archie interposed himself. “I don’t have any belongings to speak of, but I ought to take quarters of some sort, even if it’s just a space in a supply closet.”

  “Supply closet?” Yomin scoffed. “You can share quarters with me. I’m used to having all the A-tech around, and my room’s a little better shielded from Mort.”

  Carl perked up. “You know… we can really up the crew count if everyone starts doubling up. Me and Amy already do it. Now we’ve got Yomin and Archie hooking up. We can pick up Rach for you, Juggler. Roddy, how’d you like to have Shoni around more?”

  Juggler scratched at the back of his neck. “Not sure I want the kids along permanently, and I don’t want some stranger raising them.”

  Roddy belched. “Not sure I’m exactly cohabiting material.”

  Something about the look in Esper’s eyes warned Carl off from suggesting Esper and Mort make their occasional co-sleeping arrangement more official. “Just a thought.” He cleared his throat. “Well, once Esper and Mort are both back, we’ll get out of here. Good luck with your little errand. Have fun.”

  If there was one thing Carl knew about young lovers, it was that they thought they were being oh so clever. Sneaking around. Covert “errands” to meet up. It was cute in a way that she thought anyone would be fooled. All she really needed, though, was to keep Mort off the scent long enough for the Mobius to get off world. Best of luck to her.

  # # #

  When Archie returned from Yomin’s quarters, there was a spring in his pistons. He bounded across the common room and grabbed the holo-projector with both hands. Miniature holographic Zheen fighter ships swarmed around his head and upper chest as Last Stand at Starbase Odin continued to play.

  Roddy motioned with the remote. “Hey, move it, Professor Datapad. We’re watching this.”

  “No time for that. No time at all. Yomin, switch this contraption to data display.” Yomin had followed in Archie’s wake with less ebullience but still wore a grin. She tapped on her datalens and the holo paused, then swapped over to a view of a starship—which still impaled Archie through the chest as he continued to encroach on the holo-field.

  Carl stretched and waited to see where this was going before he got too bent out of shape. Starbase Odin wasn’t going to fall to Zheen forces while it was paused or anything. “What, we’re doing documentaries now?”

  “This is the Harmony Bay ship Bradbury.”

  “We’re… uh, familiar with them,” Carl said, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

  Archie stepped back, out of the image. “Of course, you are. You and they operate on roughly the same principle: pecuniam iniustis.”

  “Huh? We do?” Juggler asked. He hadn’t taken to the habit of wearing the translator earring Mort had made him.

  Roddy shot Juggler a glare. “It means making money without worrying about whether it’s legal, in the strictest sense. Why do I have to keep track of your dead languages for you?”

  Carl shrugged. “Because Mort and Esper aren’t here. I mean, magic translation is nice and all, but I wasn’t getting all Roddy’s spiel from just ‘money lawless.’”


  Manipulating the holo-projector from her datalens, Yomin continued. “But that’s the gist of it. We’re out in the wilderness scraping at the edges of society for easy money, and so are they. Except they’re more proactive. Harmony Bay’s got a whole off-the-books research division, and the Bradbury is their cleaner. They mop up messes and provide security for black-book projects.”

  Amy walked over to the holo-projector and studied floating lists of what looked like dates and navigational coordinates. “And you know this all… how?”

  “I gathered it piecemeal,” Archie said. “Contractors, sub-contractors, brokers and the like. Harmony Bay’s data security is too tight for casual perusal, but their known associates aren’t all so vigilant. Yomin was showing me my accommodations, and we got to… talking. Anyway, the long and the short of it is: she realized that my ancillary knowledge of Harmony Bay’s co-conspirators had more use than I imagined. We’ve put together the framework of an itinerary for the Bradbury. It still has holes, but the initial work shows promise.”

  “More than promise,” Yomin added. The image shifted to show a planetside facility. “We already know enough, thanks to Archie, to put holes in their supply chain anywhere we want. Well, anywhere out in border space, at least. There are a lot of people out here doing a lot of shady things.”

  “Or worse than shady, in many cases.”

  Yomin gave Archie’s point a quick nod, barely pausing her own pitch. “This is the sort of thing people want to keep quiet. We can stomp toes around here like a mosh pit and not draw official attention. Worst we’d have to deal with is the Bradbury.”

  Carl raised a finger. “And I’d like to point out, we don’t have a great history with that working out for us.”

  Archie’s mouth parted in what could only be an attempt at a smile. “This time will be different. Now, you’ve got me.”

  Amy circled the holo-projector, inspecting the displayed facility like a museum guest trying to look knowledgeable about a piece of art that baffled her. “Well… it would be nice to hit actual Harmony Bay associates and not just hapless middlemen.”

  “Those hapless middle-men almost wiped us off the star charts,” Juggler pointed out. “I’m just as happy going farther down the food chain, maybe robbing some widows and orphans.” Carl knew Juggler didn’t mean that literally, but he got the point.

  It was time to assert some authority. Carl got up and leaned close to the holo-projector. There was something empowering about seeing a tormentor reduced to an insubstantial image smaller than he was. What could they do to get back at the Bradbury with Archie’s inside knowledge of the organization? Carl had a few ideas, but he planned to keep them to himself for the time being. No point trying to steer a boulder as it started an avalanche. “Nah. We can use this. Let’s head back to Ithaca and hammer together something BIG.”

  # # #

  The next morning, with the Mobius safely in the astral en route to the EADZ, Carl had some cohabiting of his own to attend to. Amy was just waking up. One of her braids was tickling his nose.

  “Good morning, starshine.”

  Amy smiled before she said a word. Stretching out, Carl felt her skin against his body. “No stars out. Just gray.”

  “Good dreams?”

  “Don’t remember any. Usually better that way. Besides, real world’s doing just fine around us, for once.”

  “How’s that? We got back a worthless cargo that we can only sell to other scammers. We still have my dad turning into Al Capone back on Ithaca. And I’m pretty sure I picked up a vibe from Yomin that her intentions toward that robot aren’t entirely platonic.”

  “But for once we’re taking aim at a big, nasty, transgalactic corporation instead of running jobs stealing from people like us.”

  Carl pushed himself up onto one elbow. “People like us? Is that how you see the guys we rob and scam?”

  Amy put a hand on Carl’s cheek. “Baby, you don’t see it because you’re too close. Compared to guys like Roddy and Mort, I’m a raw recruit. But some of the stuff you’ve pulled… it’s as bad as any of the guys we’ve profited from. I just like this new direction, taking on the big fish for once.”

  She had a point. It was always easier robbing thieves. They didn’t run to ARGO when they lost their cargo or found out they bought knock-off salvage. “Well, you can thank Archie for that. Maybe I oughta make a habit of recruiting anyone who tries to fuck us over. Maybe I can get that Gologlex guy and Jordan Myles… oh, and maybe the Poet Fleet. They can all work with us and make us rich while we get back at Harmony Bay.”

  “Probably not. I think a wizard in a robot’s body is one of those struck-by-a-comet chances. Not going to come along every day.”

  “While I’m at it, why’s it always have to be Harmony Bay? Doesn’t Yamato Systems have any black-market dealings we can get mixed up in? I’d love to have a pipeline to stealing Typhoons. Or what about Friendli Foods? An outfit that big must have some backwater labs outside ARGO space doing God-knows-what. We could feed the whole syndicate raiding them for supplies.”

  “Let’s just stick to pissing off one Sol-based megacorp that could swat us like a fly.”

  “Fine. But whisper all the words of wisdom you want, I can’t let them be.”

  # # #

  Hangovers. Three years removed from college life, he’d nearly forgotten what they were like. Cedric rolled out of bed and took a hot shower. The controls were blessedly simple: one knob for hot, another for cold, and fiddle until the two came to a pleasant compromise. Nothing last night held any answers so simple.

  Mordecai The Brown was an AI sympathizer. The dangers were taught in primary school. Even scientists knew they couldn’t be trusted with computers that could think on their own. How could a wizard of all people—his father, no less—fail to see the inherent danger?

  As he was exiting the shower, there was a knock at the door. Still dressed in just a towel, he answered, only to find a room service trolley and a bellhop. “Good morning, sir.”

  “I didn’t order breakfast.”

  The bellhop ignored Cedric’s protest and pushed the trolley into his room. “This was paid for last night with instructions to bring it to you when you finished showering. It came with a package to be delivered.”

  Cedric scowled. How was the hotel to know when his shower began and ended? Were they watching? Was the shower in league with them? No, it wouldn’t have cleansed him so well if it had ulterior motives. He was allowing his suspicions to run amok. But more than that, he puzzled out instantly who had sent his breakfast. His instinct was to reject Esper’s attempt at an apology—if that’s what this was. But the hangover clung stubbornly to the inside of Cedric’s skull, and the aroma of coffee reminded him of the Taste of Sol. She would think of that detail, wouldn’t she?

  “Very well. Now begone.”

  The bellhop opened his mouth but thought better of reminding Cedric about a tip. This was on the Convocation’s tab. The man could put in for whatever tip he liked, as far as Cedric was concerned. That’s how wizards got such excellent service while abroad.

  Once Cedric was alone, he sipped from the coffee and found it to be the exact brew he’d shared with his father’s apprentice. It paired well with a scone from the pastry tray. As he bargained with his headache over caffeine and food rations, he stared at the package that accompanied his meal. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with twine. It had a nineteenth century feel, which soothed his annoyance at having received it at all.

  “The trouble you’ve caused me,” he muttered to the book.

  Wiping his hands on his towel, Cedric teased loose the knot that held the package closed. He unwrapped the paper with the help of a pair of sugar tongs, careful not to touch the leather binding.

  There it sat. Untitled. New as a seedling tree and blacker than the heart of a geneticist. The Tome of Bleeding Thoughts. His grandfather had tried to explain once what it contained, but he hadn’t known for sure. No one knew. At least, n
o one except his father. Perhaps Esper, if his father had been so reckless as to leave a copy for her.

  What was he thinking? Of course Esper had seen a copy of it. Even if she hadn’t read it, here it was, and through no action of Mordecai The Brown. That much was certain.

  Cedric’s room was appointed in traditional fashion. It had a four-poster bed, overstuffed pillows, and a stone fireplace. It cost treble what most rooms its size should have, but it catered to a particular niche in modern-averse travelers. And since Convocation visitors were a sizable chunk of that niche, hotels never objected to their guests actually starting a fire. There was some sort of arrangement that kept the smoke from being problematic. Science. Further explanation wasn’t necessary.

  With a flick of his fingers, Cedric lit a fire among the logs left there by housekeeping. He stared into the flames, eyes glossing over. It had been a struggle, battling his natural inclinations toward the Order of Prometheus. Terramancy had run in the family, so it was a convenient escape from his father’s footsteps. But could he escape one step farther and consign the Tome of Bleeding Thoughts to the flame when it was calling out, begging to be read?

  Stowaway to Heaven

  Mission 12 of the Black Ocean Series

  by J.S. Morin

  Stowaway to Heaven

  Mission 12 of: Black Ocean

  Copyright © 2016 Magical Scrivener Press

  The Mobius landed amid a contingent of guards. This struck Carl as odd, because he didn’t remember employing any black-clad soldiers with tactical helms last time he’d been on Ithaca. But as he made his way down the cargo ramp, there they were. Two lines of six, making an even dozen, flanked the ship’s exit at military attention. At the end of the double-line, forming the end of a box that had Carl and the crew hemmed in, was a woman in a security uniform with a short-brimmed hat shading her eyes.

  “Mr. Ramsey, welcome home,” the woman said with a curt, respectful nod. Her hands were clasped behind her back. Midnight blue, tailored fabric encased her like a second skin, making it clear the body beneath was carved like a statue. Though Carl made a point of knowing all his female underlings, he had a nagging feeling about that voice without being able to match it to anyone in the syndicate.