Tethered Worlds: Blue Star Setting

by Gregory Faccone

  Situated in the populous band of planets behind the Palisades, Frulieste had no excuse but to contribute ships to the Vallum Corps. The Frulieste Defense Agency wasn't a big starmada. In fact, it was the smallest amongst its neighbors.

  But the profitability from their luxury products allowed Frulieste to contract outside starmadas to provide ships in their name to the Vallum Corps. That way they still contributed to the common defense, still had their Cohortium representatives, but didn't have to muck around with extensive military projects and staryards.

  They bought a limited number of high quality military ships for the limited role of protecting their solar system. This Vallum Corps term they didn't rehire the Svalbergen Blacksea Corporation to contribute for them, instead sending three of their own brand new cruisers in need of a shakedown. They were large and luxurious.

  Arceneaux went with them, and his seniority led to command of a combined Vallum Corps heavy squadron that included three additional cruisers and a dozen tough ward frigates. The squadron had about as much firepower as the entire Frulieste Defense Agency back home.

  Serving a Vallum Corps hitch was turning into a sweet gig. He had made his political consideration and attached himself to the rising star of incoming Magistrate-elect Lilburn Van Buren. When the Cohortium leader-to-be wanted to bump up the transition sooner than was traditional, Arceneaux saw opportunity.

  His clout as squadron commander, and the Vallum Corps's deployment flexibility, was enough to get him listed as a major component of Van Buren's early transition scheme. He had no loyalty to the outgoing administration or to the lame duck Polemarkh, Havenaur. The man would have had to personally contravene the magistrate-elect's early transition request to stop it. He didn't have the stomach or political will for that. Now Arceneaux and his entire squadron were enjoying the activities, revelry, and excess coin flowing into Castellum. Naturally, no one would be inclined to leave it.

  That was one reason he was avoiding contact with pesky Cohortium transition inspectors. The ones from Adams Rush were particularly relentless. He didn't go anywhere off-ship without at least two burly enlisted men to intimidate any messengers. It was putting a crimp in his transition time enjoyment, but he wasn't going to stay on the bridge of a warship when he could be testing every new restaurant on High Castle with Van Buren or his circle.

  The lunch he just finished was quite good, although the wine and coffee were not up to Frulieste standards. He made it off "street level" without incident and was overlooking the amazing terrestrial interior of High Castle from above. The central road curved up and away, and there was no sign of the ongoing construction in this posh quadrant. The overlooks at "sky" level received the lifts. From there they traveled up the spokes to the hub, where High Castle's large bay accommodated ships and shuttles.

  "One's coming now, sir," Armand said. "Less than a minute."

  "Thank you, chief."

  Armand was the largest man on his ship, and longchain tough. He relished getting off ship, eating well, and receiving extra pay. He also had the right temperament to keep pests away, and so did the crewman he chose to go along.

  "Senior Captain Arceneaux," a man's voice called from nearby.

  They turned, startled, and Arceneaux stepped behind Armand.

  "My name is Kord Wilkrest," the man continued. "My wife, Vittora, and I," the man gestured to a beautiful woman who also appeared, "represent Adams Rush as appointed transition inspectors."

  The man looked solid, and there was something about him that said "competence." He wasn't particularly keen on that type of individual, nor did he run into many in the Frulieste Defense Agency. But he admired the man for his taste in women. Vittora was dressed completely in shades of red and moved as if blown by the wind. Something in her eyes disagreed with him though. Perhaps too much controlled fire.

  "We need a moment of your time to discuss transition matters," Kord said.

  Armand and the crewmen had taken up blocking positions.

  "Yes, yes," Arceneaux said. "You can call up my adjutant and set up an appointment for—"

  "With respect, captain, that has not worked out."

  "We are legally entitled," Vittora said, "open access to all officials and decisions during and related to the transition."

  Her voice was quiet yet came through clear and strong. Arceneaux toyed with the idea of just escaping up the lift. It was better than dealing with the subject they were likely to bring up, and he was developing enough friendships with the incoming administration to cover over the breach in protocol. He glanced over, but there was still no sign of the lift.

  "Though I see you'd rather not talk with us," Kord said, "it would be in your best interest to do so. And to further encourage you, I brought along another inspector." A man wearing multiple layers of cream-colored clothing stepped out. Something about him was strange, and meeting his eyes was uncomfortable. "This is Zephyrean D, from Demeter."

  Ugh. Another crazed mystic type. Where's that lift?

  Escaping now would be difficult. He didn't know too much about Demeter, but he knew enough not to mess with those who called it home. Rarely did they get involved, but when they did, they meant business. Armand wasn't intimidated, probably due to lack of knowledge, and maintained his aggressive positioning. Arceneaux was only slightly surprised to see he intimidated none of the three, even a little.

  "There is a hole in the Palisades," Kord began. The man jumped right into it without preamble or permission. The subject was indeed the dire rumors he had heard. "A short window of opportunity through which an enemy fleet can pounce."

  Kord moved to the lift entrance, not blocking it but certainly staking out the position. Armand wasn't pleased and walked right up to him, their chests almost touching. His crewman was a head taller than the inspector. The other two moved in response. The strange man from Demeter intercepted Armand's picked crewman, standing casually in his way. The woman placed herself to the side of Armand. Something about her in that position made Arceneaux nervous.

  "Squadrons are always shifted to ensure any Palisades planet is protected from egress-launched attack," Arceneaux said. "We've analyzed their sync schedules. Any world they can ambush is already fortified or can be reinforced." Arceneaux said it by rote, the way they were always told. "Now if you'll excuse me."

  Arceneaux moved closer to the lift entrance, and Armand tried to box Kord out.

  "That's usually the case, but this time the priorities were different, weren't they?" Kord glanced past Armand adopting the faintest look of a boy observing the results of his prank. "Uh, I think your lift has been delayed." Zephyrean D raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it'll be here as soon as we conclude our conversation."

  Armand became more belligerent and purposely blocked Kord's line of sight. He was tempted to tell the big crewmen to stand down but found he wanted the insulation.

  "You've no right to delay me," Arceneaux said.

  "We've assembled a significantly detailed picture over the last couple of weeks," Kord said. "If you'd please just spend thirty seconds looking at it, I think you'd be convinced." The man made an effort to peer around Armand's oversized body. He spoke as if the large man wasn't there. "Also, might I suggest you ask your crewmen to back off?"

  "Why?" Armand said. "What're you going to do, shorty?"

  "You do know as inspectors we're granted temporary diplomatic status, don't you? And it's not what I might do. My wife is showing admirable restraint. She doesn't like me to soil my hands, especially when I'm on official business. It would just be in everyone's best interest if a little more civility could be injected into this meeting."

  Arceneaux was gripped with doubt. His indecision made matters worse. It would be easy to go back to his ship, bury his head in the sand, and let the chips fall where they may. He had political cover and was enjoying the splendor of government spending.

  Though the inspector had Armand breathing down his head, he tried to look conciliatory and glanced over at the Demeter
representative. "Let it down, please." Suddenly, the lift doors opened, and the tempting way of escape was clear. "I'm sorry our meeting had to be like this, but you've been avoiding us. We're out of time and I need to make other plans if you're not going to help. Leave if you choose, or take a look at this."

  He nodded to his wife, and she held out a trimensional VAD projector about the size of a thick coin. A volume of space blossomed above, clearly showing the Palisades line and planets a few layers deep into Perigeum territory. Egress icons flashed white when activated, a line forming between those synced. Squadrons large and small, estimated and certain, moved in sped-up time on both sides of the border.

  "Where did you possibly get this?" Arceneaux said.

  "Come on, Arceneaux. This is the Asterfraeo. We don't rely on others, or even the Vallum Corps, to keep us safe. A hard lesson learned at Adams Rush."

  "Let's get out of here, Captain." Armand said.

  He was only half-listening to the chief now and suspected his eyes were bulging at so much information painstakingly assembled. It was beginning to dawn on him that perhaps he had made a mistake.

  Armand reached for the projector in Vittora's hand, but she was by far faster and pulled it away without interrupting the projection. The big crewmen, frustrated, stepped toward her.

  Kord grabbed Armand's arm. "Give the captain a second to decide."

  Armand turned, pulled his arm away, and grabbed the observer's jacket. Suddenly, the projector arced gently through the air directly into Arceneaux's hand. At the same moment, the woman was next to her husband. Her hand darted and pulled back, grasping one of Armand's fingers. He squinted with strain, forced to release Kord.

  Arceneaux had to call off his man before this escalated, but he was paralyzed with indecision. The hypnotizing star map still shone down on him. Armand reached with his other giant arm to grasp the woman and free his finger. Kord stepped back instead of engaging the chief. He knew the man was no coward, which probably meant Armand was the one in trouble.

  Vittora's long leg was off the floor and over the top of Armand's arm before he could free his finger. Her weight pushed it down while she lifted up. They all heard his finger snap. He groaned once and went down on one knee as she moved off but held his hand captive.

  "Armand!" Arceneaux said. "That's enough."

  The woman released his crewman while he was still confused. There was a certain confidence among this group of inspectors. It was contagious.

  "I know you've hitched your ship to Van Buren," Kord said. He continued quietly, almost conspiratorially. "If I'm right, his ship's going to sink, and you have to decide whether you want to go down with him."

  Arceneaux continued to stare at the star map as it replayed the events again. He saw his own squadron leaving Windermere for Castellum. He saw numbers and projections.

  "You've been given a rare opportunity," the Demeter observer said. It was the only words he had uttered. "A chance to fix a mistake after events are already in motion."

  "That was too much excitement for me," Humberto said.

  "I surmise it was just the warm-up," Torious said. "Perhaps tranquilizers are in order."

  The bridge of the scout was on a war footing. All but the rear bulkhead displayed Beuker space. Surprisingly, it didn't induce nausea. But perhaps there was more to it. Jordahk had not felt nauseated since his mission last year aboard the Monte Crest.

  Another change. Not against my will, but without my consent.

  They had zoomed away from HAB rock as fast as possible without drawing attention. Now the nearly-as-large khromathyst mine loomed. It still took up the same amount of space but now scanned at half its original mass. It was riddled with over 200 years worth of tunnels, many large enough to fit the Scout.

  The back of the bridge was configured as a meeting area. A table, unfolded from the deck, set them in a semicircle facing forward.

  "This wasn't the escape I had in mind," Humberto said. He glanced at a VAD showing Nuria and Sosimo in a cabin. The boy had finally fallen asleep after his traumatic experience.

  "They were on to us faster than anticipated," Aristahl said.

  "It's not Sosimo's fault. All the children are inculcated to inform on their parents. Anything strange, anyone new. He couldn't know what he was revealing."

  "Hopefully one day he will grow to a man whose memories of occupied Beuker will be distant and faint." Aristahl pointed to a trimensional VAD of the mine floating above the table, and Barrister highlighted the spot. "According to Gaspar's information, old Prep Area One seems our best bet. It is rarely used, and practically a back door."

  "I don't like that all digging has stopped," Alb-Sone said.

  "Neither do I. A local khromathyst supplier, and a so-called 'academic' group both ceased operations within the last few hours. The locals are already headed back to Beuker. The academics have a research ship out on the other side."

  "It's obvious the bad guy's are onto us," Jordahk said. "Why don't they go for an intercept?"

  Humberto looked pained. "Why don't we turn around and hightail it for the Asterfraeo?"

  "The exact nature of those against us is a concern," Aristahl said. "And what we seek is no ordinary mystic ship. It was touched by the Khromas. As to your question, Jordahk, when they saw we did not leave immediately, they knew there was more to our presence."

  "And they'd love for us to show them what it is."

  "No doubt.

  "We will be vulnerable when we disembark," Khai said.

  "It's been slow going trying to crack Vanquo's information," Max said. "He has extensive dossiers on all things mystic. We just unlocked two more visual fragments under what appears to be his associates' highest classification of Sojourner."

  Aristahl nodded, and VADs popped into existence. One played a blurry, low resolution snippet taken at extreme range. It showed an immense, spherical object, much larger than an old-style dreadnought if the data overlay was to be believed. It was composed of metal, and though it was difficult to tell, its surface appeared to be comprised of rotating parts like rings or wheels. It was a fascinating machine, inasmuch as a few seconds of low-res visuals could illuminate.

  The other fragment was even less descriptive, but certainly mysterious. A body akin to the dimensions of the khromathyst mine showed on someone's detensor logs. The readings of the distant object showed unusual mass as it passed by in manifold space. Stranger still was this "planetoid" traveled at speeds beyond even double-keeled robotic ships, and left a considerable distortion wake.

  "Here are approximate time codes Wixom just calculated," Max said. "He's acting a little strange regarding these recordings."

  Rough dates showed both passages had occured a handful of decades earlier. Aristahl's brows furrowed. These recordings meant something more than Jordahk knew. But more unsettling was Vanquo having them.

  "His group's also keeping track, rather extensively, of P-Star deployments," Max said. A VAD scrolled squadrons and locations. "This recent information adds considerably to what we estimated."

  Aristahl examined the information and compressed his lips. "They are going through with it. We must get my ship and get back, although I fear it is too late for a warning."

  A knot formed in Jordahk's stomach. A manifestation of all their suspicions becoming reality. "What is it?"

  "Show them, Barrister."

  The trimensional VAD expanded into a star map showing the history of the P-Star movements. It highlighted the trend moving outward from the Six Sisters toward the Asterfraeo. But the movement didn't complete. Instead, small groupings consolidated into large ones at nonstrategic, apparently random stars.

  A strange clarity penetrated Jordahk, and inspiration followed. "All of those places have egresses." Aristahl nodded as Jordahk spoke. "And all of them can lead someplace... the same place."

  His grandfather's countenance relayed subtle approval. "Barrister, is there a planet to which all those egresses can sync? One which would not hav
e been possible outside of this anomalous season?"

  A single system bordering the Palisades highlighted. Reality dawned. Since the unofficial Sojourners' Crusade cease-fire two centuries past, occasional Perigeum versus Asterfraeo fleet engagements had occurred. But not since Utica Cyr had anyone seen the raw scale like what the displays portended.

  "The Perigeum frigate has changed course unexpectedly," Barrister said. An indicator circle contracted on the bulkhead display. "Arrival in just over four hours."

  Jordahk grimaced. "That's a point for the Archiver theory."

  Aristahl looked on thoughtfully.

  "We hear stories about the bosses who stay for a time," Humberto said. "Like I've said, it's better not to ask questions. It's why I'm still around to help you."

  "To use an old phrase, there are 'wheels within wheels' at work," Aristahl said. Perhaps he was inspired by the strange visual snippet. "We cannot be sure who is vying for power here, although we can agree it is better if they do not succeed."

  "We're only a few hours ahead of the trouble that guy can bring," Jordahk said.

  "Maybe less than that," Max said. A warning tone punctuated the statement. A ship highlighted, appearing behind the crescent of the khromathyst mine. It looked to be a modern, streamlined version of the Monte Crest, with less space dedicated to cargo and more to arms and armor. "The research ship is a law enforcement patroller."

  "I hate spacewalking," Torious said.

  It was the usual spiel about how if his enlightened designers thought spacewalking necessary, they would have designed him for it. The nurse was surprisingly ungainly in the strapped-on maneuver pack.

  They floated gently down toward Prep Area One. The distant gas giant shed yellowish light when it peeked through the belt. Jordahk enjoyed spacewalking in a suit with grav weaves, but considering the last time he did it, he could do without the asteroids.

  At least the immediate area around the mine was clear of rocks. The scout pulled back after drop-off, its shields hovering on the upper edge of warm. Not far away, the armored patroller, a "research ship" in name only, was doing the same. But the differences between the two were stark and numerous. The scout was mystic, and the patroller was not, at least not that they could tell. The scout was a warship, even if designed for support, and the patroller was not. When shots were fired, such differences dominated.