by G. P. Hudson
“Mrs. Bast, open the door,” said an angry voice from outside.
Her eyes narrowed and she gestured for him to go into the other room. She turned and cautiously approached the front door. Toby stood in the doorway between the two rooms, curious to see who was making all the noise. The man had a loud, mean voice. He thought it must belong to a giant.
“Who is it?” said his mother. “Do you know what time it is?”
“We’re from the Governor’s office. On official business. Now open the door.”
His mother stood at the closed door staring back at him. Scared. It was the same expression she would get when the food started to run out.
“Hide,” she whispered, pointing her finger toward the back room.
He backed away into the dark, until he couldn’t see her anymore.
“Mrs. Bast! Either you open this door, or we will kick it open.”
“No, for heaven’s sake, don’t break my door. I’m opening it.”
He heard the snap of the dead bolt and the moan of the swinging door.
“What’s this about?” said his mother.
“We’re here for your son, Mrs. Bast.”
“Toby? He’s only five. There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake, Mrs. Bast. He’s been selected for the Chaanisar.”
“But my husband just passed away. Toby’s all I have left. You can’t take him.”
“We don’t need your permission, Mrs. Bast. Where’s the boy?”
“Toby! Run!”
He bolted. There was a crash at the front and his mother went silent. Fear took hold and his eyes started to water, but he fought back the urge to break down and cry. Why did these men want to take him?
He reached the back door and struggled with the doorknob. Why did it have to be so big? He squeezed his trembling little hands around it and turned. There was a click and it opened.
“He’s going out the back!”
Toby ran through the back yard toward the gate. In the distance a dog barked. He stretched his arms in front of him, groping in the darkness until he found the gate. Thankfully it wasn’t closed. There would be no way for him to reach the latch if it was. He slipped through the open gate and out into the back lane. Racing into the night, he heard heavy footsteps behind him.
The blackness scared him, but he kept running, relying on his memory to guide him. If he could just get to his special hiding place he’d be okay. He was good at hide and seek, and that was his best spot. None of the neighborhood kids found him when he hid there. It was just a little farther.
“There he is.”
A large hand seized him by the back of the neck and threw him down. He fell hard, hitting his head on the pavement, causing bright lights to flash in his before his eyes. The same powerful hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up to his feet.
“Come here you little shit.” It was the same mean voice as before.
The lights in his head vanished and he looked up at the man. He was no giant. His father was bigger than this man. Where was his father? He wouldn’t let anyone treat him this way. He lashed out at the man, punching and kicking him with all his strength. A meaty hand crashed into Toby’s face causing him to see the lights again.
“Are you going to behave yourself, or do I have to give you another smack?” said the man, with his hand raised for another strike.
Toby struggled to stay on his feet. If it hadn’t been for the man holding him by the arm, he would have hit the concrete again.
“Take it easy on the kid,” said the other man. “You might give him brain damage, or break a bone, then it will be our asses on the line.”
The man holding Toby grunted. He bent down close to Toby’s face. His breath stank of liquor and onions. The man showed Toby a long, nasty looking knife. “Listen to me, you little shit. You give me any more trouble and I will gut your mother and make you watch. Am I clear?”
The thought was too much for Toby, and he finally broke down and began to wail.
“That’s better,” said the man. He stood up and to Toby’s relief re-sheathed his knife.
The man turned Toby around and forced him to walk back through the gate and into his house. He pushed Toby through toward the front door. His mother was on the floor crying, the side of her face already swollen. When she saw him she reached for him and caught his free arm.
“No! You can’t take him!” she screamed. “You can’t-”
The second man kicked her in the stomach, and she doubled over, gasping desperately for air.
“Mommy!” Toby yelled, as the men pulled him into the waiting darkness.
Colonel Bast woke up screaming. Filled with panic he tried to get up, but couldn’t. He tried again, still screaming, but his arms and legs wouldn’t move. He looked down to see restraints holding him in place. He fought with all his strength to break free, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Let me go!” he pleaded. “They’re coming!”
A woman approached him. He recognized her. Dr. Ellerbeck. She held something in her hand. “This will help you calm down,” she said.
It pinched his shoulder. He fought with the restraints again to no avail. Then he began to lose his strength. Drowsiness filled him and he knew he would soon be asleep. He looked back at Dr. Ellerbeck and whispered, “No.”
Chapter 7
Franz Stumpf, CEO of Amboss Corporation, warily eyed the hideous creature seated before him, and questioned the wisdom of this meeting. There was a strong possibility that he would die here today. He could be tortured, or beaten, which at his age would likely lead to the same result. These creatures, these Kemmar, had a savage reputation, yet he had no choice but to try and come to terms with them, because the alternative was unthinkable. The one speaking to him was unbelievably terrifying to look at. Every time it spoke, he caught a glimpse of the rows of razor sharp teeth. When it locked eyes with him he felt like he might lose control of his bowels. He managed to maintain his composure, barely keeping his emotions under control. Still, with every twitch of its nose, he wondered if it smelled the terror permeating through his pores.
“Why should the Kemmar Empire trade with such a weak species?” said Lord Koft, the Kemmar liaison. “Why shouldn’t we just invade your territory and take what we wish? You are too old to make a good slave, but I am sure there are many younger, stronger members of your species who would fetch a decent price.”
Stumpf laced his fingers together to prevent them from shaking. “The Kemmar Empire is indeed mighty, Lord Koft. Of that there is no doubt. But why waste resources invading human space, when we are willing to trade? I’m sure your forces are busy pacifying Otan space.”
“You presume much, Mr. Stumpf. The Otan situation is well in hand. Human space is divided. Nothing prevents the Empire from invading.”
So why are you talking to me? thought Stumpf. “Lord Koft, as I’m sure you already know, human space is governed by corporations. We are not a nation to be conquered. We are a marketplace.”
“Why should the Empire care about your marketplace?” Koft said with the hint of a growl.
“Not only are we prepared to freely trade with the Empire, but we are also willing to become tributaries of the Empire.”
“And what do you deem worthy to offer the great Kemmar Empire as tribute?”
“We are resource rich. We can provide the Empire with regular shipments of whatever resource the Empire desires.”
“We are not interested in your resources,” said Koft, flashing his teeth at Stumpf like a shark stalking its dinner.
“Surely there must be something we can pay you in tribute,” Stumpf said nervously. “We are determined to make this work.”
“Is that why you have repeatedly attacked our forces, Mr. Stumpf? Because you want to pay tribute to the Empire?”
“Attacked your forces?” Stumpf said in shocked disbelief. “Lord Koft, surely there must be some mistake.”
“There is no mistake. A human warship has repeatedl
y violated Kemmar space, and engaged Kemmar warships.”
“Lord Koft, I can assure you that this ship does not belong to any of our corporations. We would never dream of taking any aggressive actions against the Empire.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Because, we are interested in profit, not conflict,” pleaded Stumpf. “Why would we seek to provoke the Kemmar Empire? How would we benefit?”
“Perhaps you believe your propulsion technology gives you an advantage.” Koft smashed a fist onto the table. “Fools! Your technology will not save you. The Empire will lay waste to your planets. Your species will be eliminated.”
Stumpf forced himself to remain seated and not try to run away. “Forgive me, Lord Koft, but what propulsion technology are you referring to?”
“Do not insult me, Mr. Stumpf,” said Koft, pointing a long talon at Stumpf. “You know exactly what I am talking about.”
“No, Sir, I do not,” Stumpf lied. In reality, he had heard about the strange warship and its ability to disappear from one location and reappear in another. He had seen the reports of how it had helped Sallas defeat the coup. Now the same warship had provoked the Kemmar. Something had to be done.
Koft snarled, giving Stumpf a better look at his teeth. “Mr. Stumpf, I am not interested in playing games. This warship and its crew are criminals. We demand the warship, its crew, and the secret of its propulsion technology. Deliver them to the Empire and we can talk about payment of tribute.”
A cold chill ran up Stumpf’s spine. “But Lord Koft, as I’ve already explained, we do not possess this warship, or its technology.”
“That is not my concern. These are our demands. Comply, or face the full wrath of the Kemmar Empire.”
***
The sinister looking ship engaged its engines and steadily accelerated, heading back across the border into the decimated remnant of what had once been Otan space. Franz Stumpf watched it leave from the console in his office, thankful that the encounter had ended. When the Kemmar had responded to his request for a meeting, he did not think he would have to personally travel to the edges of human space to meet them in person. When the Kemmar insisted, he was in no position to decline. Not if he wanted to maintain any hope of putting together some sort of treaty. What he thought would be a simple arrangement, had now turned into an ominous burden. Their only hope for survival lay in appeasement, and that meant the capture of the mysterious ship.
A message flashed on his screen informing him that his conference was about to begin, and requesting his attendance. As he accepted the request, the Kemmar ship disappeared from his display, replaced by the stern faces of the other corporate CEOs.
“Do we have an agreement?” said Linda Wilhelm, CEO of Rainer Corporation. Never one for formalities, she favored the direct approach.
“In principle,” said Stumpf.
“What does that mean?” said Jacob Weiss, CEO of Meisser Corporation.
“It means that we are not finished with New Byzantium.”
Chapter 8
“Why does Sallas want you to release the Diakans?” said Kevin St. Clair, Jon’s burly security chief.
Jon stared at the endless blue water stretching out before him. “He thinks it is a smart move diplomatically. We can’t claim political asylum if we’re holding Diakan prisoners.”
“Shit,” said Kevin.
“Yeah.”
The sound of laughter rang out below them. Jon smiled as he watched Breeah’s daughter, Anki, running around with Seiben’s two girls, Otka and Alina. The three were running through the shallow water splashing each other. The sight cheered him up. This was how childhood should be spent, laughing and playing, not fighting and watching people die. On the beach near the girls sat Breeah and Darla, deep in conversation. Jon could see a few other people in the distance, but other than that the beach was empty.
“Are you going to do it?” said Kevin.
“If we agree to Sallas’s offer we’ll have to. But the Chaanisar and Reivers need to be on board with the idea. That means we wait for the Doctor to put Colonel Bast back together.”
“The sooner that happens, the better.”
“Won’t be long now. Dr. Ellerbeck said she would be reinserting the brain chip tomorrow.”
“Say Bast agrees with Sallas’s proposition, how do we build new jump ships?”
“We don’t build them. We retrofit existing ships.”
“How do we do that?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I see no way around it. We’re going to need Singh.”
“How did I know you were going to say that? Captain, we can’t trust that traitor.”
“I know, but we might not have a choice. He’s the only jump system expert within a thousand light years.”
“What about the Chaanisar? Don’t they have their own expert?”
“No. The Juttari kept the information to themselves. The Chaanisar killed their jump system expert when they revolted.”
“Damn. First the Diakans, and now Singh. What’s next, a lunch date with the Kemmar?”
“What the hell are you two doing standing over here?” said Seiben, walking over to Jon and Kevin with three beers in his hands. “Have a beer. Loosen up. The food’s almost ready.”
“Thanks,” said Jon, taking one of the beers from Seiben. “We were just admiring your view.”
“It’s a thing of beauty, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Darla so happy,” said Seiben, nodding at his wife on the beach.
“Beats the hell out of that damn space station you were living on,” said Kevin. “I grew up on an island. Nothing better than living by the water.”
“Hey, I’m a convert,” said Seiben, clinking his bottle with Kevin’s. “This is the good life.” He looked at Jon, “What do you think about it?”
“It’s great,” said Jon.
“Yeah right,” said Seiben, smiling. “I bet your wondering how many people you can drown out there.”
“Funny,” said Jon with a smirk.
“Thanks. Now why don’t you two stop being so damn anti-social and come join the rest of us.”
“What’s cooking?” said Kevin.
“Salmon.”
“Salmon? How the hell did you find salmon a thousand light years away from Earth?”
“The ocean is full of them. According to Prime Minister Sallas, the early colonists brought many different species through the jump gate. Fish, seafood, even livestock and pets. Most of the fish and seafood thrived in New Byzantium’s oceans. The other day I tried something called lobster. It was delicious.”
“Lobster? Are you joking?” said Kevin. “Shit, I’d eat lobster every day if I could. I think I could get used to living on this planet.”
“What’s holding you back?” said Seiben. “Didn’t Sallas offer all of you the same deal?”
“Yeah, we’re still sorting all that out,” said Jon.
Seiben nodded. “Well come over here and help me take some food down to the beach. You can sort it out while you eat something. I’m sure that little bugger inside of you is hungry too.”
Returning to the grill, Seiben began piling fish and sides onto platters. The three men took the food down the wooden steps onto the beach. A long table stood near Darla and Breeah, already setup with appetizers, plates and cutlery. They set down their platters and strolled over to where Breeah and Darla were seated. Breeah looked up at Jon and smiled. “I was just telling Darla how beautiful her new home is.”
“It’s very nice, Darla,” said Jon.
“The girls love it,” said Darla. “They’ve been swimming every day since we got here.”
“Is the beach always this quiet?” asked Kevin, glancing around at the serene landscape.
“It’s been that way so far.”
“Amazing. Where I grew up the beaches were always full of people.”
“Try growing up on an asteroid,” said Breeah. “See how much swimming you get to do there.”
<
br /> “I can’t even imagine,” said Kevin.
Breeah looked over at her daughter, splashing water and laughing. “At least Anki won’t have to do that anymore.”
Jon thought about Sallas’s offer again. He cared for Anki and wanted the best for her. Breeah had a tough childhood. It was true that she had been raised on an asteroid colony, just like the rest of the Reivers. Now they lived on a warship. But Anki could have a good childhood on this planet. They could all have good lives here. He looked over at Seiben, who laughed at one of his own jokes again. He looked genuinely happy. Could I ever be that happy? thought Jon. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to try.
Yet this planet was about to fight for its very survival, and if it failed, all this would disappear. He suddenly knew he had to accept Sallas’s offer. New Byzantium had to be saved.
“I assume you never got to eat any fish on that asteroid of yours,” said Seiben, handing Breeah a plate of grilled salmon and vegetables.
“No,” said Breeah. “We ate the vegetables that we grew ourselves. The rest of the food was engineered with nutrients in mind, similar to what you would find on a spaceship.”
“Well try the salmon. Let me know what you think.”
Breeah broke off a forkful of pink meat from her fillet and tentatively bit into it. She chewed and swallowed it with a perplexed look on her face.
“Well?” said Seiben. “What do you think?”
“It tastes…”
“Fishy?” said Kevin.
“Yes,” said Breeah, to a chorus of laughter. “It tastes fishy.”
Seiben shook his head. “You mean you don’t like it?”
“No, it’s very good. I have just never tasted anything like it before.”
“Don’t worry about hurting this crusty old freighter captain’s feelings, Breeah,” said Jon, with a grin. “Tell him the truth.”
“Tell me the truth?” Seiben scowled. “You want to know the truth? You’re not getting any. Enjoy your spaceship paste.”
“Come on, old man,” said Kevin. “Stop being so grouchy.”