by Scott Rhine
Reuben helped to pull Kesh from the freezer unit. The Saurian’s pebbled skin was tinged blue, and his neck frills drooped limply. He looked like a stuffed velociraptor from a Human museum diorama. The captain’s lungs heaved as Max injected him with heated adrenalin.
Reuben clamped a heat lamp to one of the fresh batteries. Gradually, through the Collective Unconscious, Reuben became aware of his living presence in the room. He sensed the captain the way he might detect someone walking past an open door, through the shadow and muffling of ambient sound. Kesh’s aura wasn’t the warm soothing of another Goat or even the brilliant glow of Ivy, but any intelligent contact was comforting. As nulls, Roz and Max radiated less emotion than statues. Max had used this invisibility inherited from his !Kung ancestors to sneak up on Reuben numerous times during training.
Max shouted to Kesh, “The freezer unit failed during the jump, leading to an uncontrolled thaw.”
Kesh’s gravelly voice replied, “I’m blind, not squeezing deaf.” Saurian curses didn’t translate well into the common language of Banker. From their time in Turtle Special Forces, the others knew he was referring to the slow and intimate process of pushing the eggs from a female.
“Blind?” asked Max, shining a penlight in his round eyes.
“I can see rainbows when you do that.”
In his calm tenor, Max said, “Halo vision is usually temporary. If the freezer burn lasts more than a day, we’ll throw you in the regen tank.”
If only Humans could be fixed that easily. Reuben worked hard to analyze the failure of the equipment. “Dude, what monkey wired this unit?”
“The Blue Claw miners who pirated the ship.” Kesh flexed his tail experimentally the way an opera singer would warm up before a concert. Tails were more important than facial expressions for Saurian nonverbal communication.
“We had a backup power supply, but it came from the same breaker box. Useless. The reactor went down when we reached the deepest point of the subbasement. The grid is still rebooting. I’m guessing the designers charged the quantum capacitors so we’d have enough energy for reentry to normal space.” The jump had taken nine calendar days to travel an amazing fifteen parsecs, but no one in the vessel had noticed the passage of time.
Max massaged Kesh’s limbs to encourage blood flow. “Reuben, check Ivy’s stasis unit. If the others woke suddenly, they might be disoriented, but she could bleed to death.”
****
Bobbing in the low gravity, Reuben reached the stasis chambers for warm-bloods in the cargo area. Holding a flashlight between his teeth, he checked the power levels. Original to the ship’s design, these units had Mahdra crystal backups. Magi knew how to build safeties. However, the power gems were over a century old and low on charge. He couldn’t swap out Ivy’s old crystal for a new one without risking her life. Just gazing at the wounded blonde through the window twisted the metaphorical knife in his gut.
Scooping the empty liquor bulb off the floor, Reuben hid the evidence of his blackout drinking in his repair kit. Then he woke Grady, the technician. His mental presence was faint but as familiar as the scent of a worn, leather catcher’s mitt. Although not as astute as Reuben and his partners in the trading company, the retired naval officer was reliable and friendly. Unlike many twenty-one-year-olds, Reuben respected a veteran with decades of experience, especially someone who’d survived amphibious combat with the Phibs.
In English, Reuben told him the same lie they had to the Bat media. “We followed a transient star lane out of the prison system, one we found on the Magi star charts.”
In reality, the dead-end supergiant prison system had no faster-than-light exit without their prototype star drive. The Bankers would kill to keep this drive technology suppressed because account updates were only transmitted by ansible every eight days. A ship that could reach the nearest star system before that could withdraw the same money twice. Widespread use of the subbasement could destroy their economic system. Let it. The Bankers had been profiting too long from the blood and sweat of the Goat people.
Grady sniffed and glanced down at the pool of Reuben’s bodily fluids on the floor. “Did you have a rough wake up?”
“Yeah. I’ll clean that up in a minute. Prolonged stasis can make people queasy. I thawed you next because we need help with repairs.”
“What’s wrong? Did it take longer than we planned?”
“We had a power fluctuation. We’ll need to patch a second battery-backup line into Ivy’s unit.”
Grady looked over the analyzer. “That crystal should last another year, easy.”
“Roz wants the unit to be portable … for transport to a shuttle.” The only place immune to the effects of the subbasement seemed to be inside the Magi navigation chamber. Maybe all the suspended-animation chambers should be transferred down there.
“Shouldn’t we wake the others first?” Grady asked.
Reuben felt sweat on his brow and in his armpits. “They want the Bat prisoner on ice for now. That just leaves Herb and Alyssa Greenberg. Since Herb is ailing, we’ll want Max present to examine him.”
“Just the boss’s Mom then.”
“Once the reactor is up and lights are on, sure.” Reuben was afraid that any delay could harm Ivy. He dumped the remaining batteries from his pocket onto the floor.
Grady sighed and scratched his facial stubble. “Might as well do something useful while we wait.”
While Reuben mopped, Grady built a redundant power array and mounted it to the stasis unit. Once Ivy was safe, Reuben replaced the depleted gem with a fresh one. He had only been staring at her for a few moments when Max arrived. “What the hell are you doing?”
The overhead lights were back on. Grady was gone, off to repair mini bots and other liquid circuits that had been exposed to the subbasement effect. “Checking the repairs, sir.” Too late, Reuben realized he was clenching the empty drinking bulb instead of a tool.
Max lowered his voice. “Do you know why Roz ordered you to scrape the hull?”
“Punishment. Look, I know I screwed —”
In a blink, Max slapped the bulb out of his hand. Anger flared, but Reuben clenched his jaw to remain silent. He was stronger and faster than his mentor, able to beat him soundly at hand-to-hand. Fifteen years his senior, Max could barely move on days when his back flared up.
“Look at your hand,” Max ordered. The hand in question had a minor tremor from Reuben’s earlier binge. “She wanted you to save face in front of the others. If your hand shakes at the meeting later, people will assume it’s from the scraping. Soldier, get washed up while I release the others.”
The commanding tone saved him in the end, snapping Reuben into an involuntary salute. As he went slinking back to his quarters, he realized Max was probably the closest thing to a real father he had ever experienced. He had visited with his biological father for less than a hundred hours. The famous Diogenes had died young in battle after cracking the cyber defenses of the final Phib space station at Therikmar.
He wallowed in hot, running water and self-pity for far too long. The smell of his bender was purged by Ivy’s lavender shower gel. The memories the floral scent conjured of his lover were too painful, but no amount of scrubbing would rid him of the lingering aroma. Even the sculpted shape of his frizzy hair bore her signature as a hairdresser. He couldn’t look in a mirror without seeing her impish, pale perfection. The traces of red in his golden eyes made him look weak. I’m a descendent of the great Black Ram Xerxes!
Spotting Max’s razor in the locker room, Reuben knew what he had to do. He turned on the vibrating blades and moved a path down the center of his scalp. Okay, that was a little shorter and more crooked than he had intended. Maybe the boss had been right about the shaking hand. Still, decisive action felt good for a change. He spent the next fifteen minutes shaving the rest of his scalp down to the same level.
Reuben looked like an escapee from the prison camp, but it was an improvement. He had asserted control.
>
His sudden hunger was the drawback of a fast metabolism. The constant eating, herd behavior, randy disposition, and slotted pupils had earned his species the label Goats. Originally referred to as Satyrs, they fought the loaded stereotype on the grounds that Satyrica was merely the closest Mnamnabonian planet to Earth, not the capital. Therefore, Human diplomats selected Goat as the less offensive and shorter English name.
In the dining hall, Reuben scavenged a few berry muffins. He decided to do something useful for a change. Using the dining-room wall as his computer display, he crafted a new identity for the ship as a deep-space explorer back from an expedition.
Roz’s mother, Alyssa, handed him an actual mug of coffee topped with whipped cream.
“Thanks.” When he sipped it, he tasted the hazelnut. She always remembered what people liked. “You might be a feared criminal elsewhere, but you’re the best ship’s cook I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t fill in the vessel’s name on the paperwork until you have it written on the hull.” To be polite, Alyssa spoke in Banker, the designated way people of different species communicated.
Irritated by the reminder of his pervasive enemy, Reuben replied in English, “I’ve forged things like this a dozen times. I know what I’m doing.”
She shrugged. “When you want to change a report card in a hurry, sometimes it’s easier to tweak the old letters than eradicate them completely. You know, make a D into a B.”
He saluted her with the mug. “I learn something from your family every day.”
“Why are you being so snide?”
“When I was in school, everybody told me what a frilling genius I was. Nobody told me how fragile life was or how quickly everything could come crashing down.”
Alyssa sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Roz likes you, so I’ll make the effort. The fantasy you have in your head was never going to happen.”
“Once Ivy’s better, they’ll assign her back to us.”
“Her cover is blown, and those scars make her too recognizable. If she survives, Ivy will be assigned to breed and train better spies for Llewellyn Industries. She’ll never see an outsider again.” Reuben’s coffee went down the wrong pipe, causing him to cough. “The longer you cling to the impossible lure, the more you’re going to hurt yourself and everyone close to you.”
“Excuse me?”
Rolling her eyes, the ex-con said, “Nobody lives the fantasy. Put on your big-boy pants and build a future the hard way like the rest of us.”
Reuben put down the mug and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I think I’m going on a space walk out where it’s warmer.”
****
With his magnetic boots and a safety line, Reuben shuffled along the spherical hull. A forest of support poles sprouted from the surface, keeping at least twelve meters between living creatures and the ornate, blue-and-silver Icarus drives at the tips. This buffer was important because Icarus fields generated thrust by accelerating hydrogen away at light speed, and living matter contained mostly hydrogen compounds. Studded with a network of hundreds of these dangerous devices, the ship could move instantly in any direction.
Only a few drives on the other side of Sphere of Influence glowed active as Roz piloted away from the star known as Salizar B. The body of the ship shielded him from the intense glare of sunlight. He had to stretch a foil canopy between the beams over his work area to protect against micrometeorites or a sudden shift in trajectory. Having checked off all the safety precautions, he cranked his raucous music as high as the earphones would allow. To remove the old lettering, he grabbed an electric putty knife, a ridiculously primitive tool.
Through the hours of tedious labor, one horrible thought churned in Reuben’s brain. What if that despicable cook was right? Even if he saved Ivy’s life, the experts on Laurelin might never let them be together again. Unless he could find some leverage against the biggest terraforming and biotech company in the galaxy, she was gone for good.
Instead of wallowing, Reuben planned. The task wasn’t impossible. After all, his ancestors had defeated the Phib Empire. At a minimum, he would need to hack into Ivy’s personal computer and search for any documents she might have from her family’s intelligence agency. The bitter, old tramp was right about one thing, the P in Sphere had been baked on by radiation over seventeen months of hard travel. The old letter would need to be incorporated into the new identity. He had a few extra decals from the last name change. Shorter would be better if he needed to scour the hull again. Deep 6 sounded catchy, as only six partners remained.
Chapter 3 – Meeting
When Reuben climbed back inside the renamed ship, he reeked of sweat and his back was screaming from hunching over for hours. He needed another shower. The silence of the bathroom rang in his ears after hours of rebellion rhythms. After he toweled off, he relaxed for just a moment on the bench.
With no warning, Max tapped on his shoulder. “Hey, we’re all waiting for you in the cafeteria.”
Reuben put a hand over his heart. “Would you stop doing that!”
“Regular cardiovascular exercise might do you some good. You’re looking a little out of shape.”
“Bite me, old man.” After putting on clean underwear, Reuben regained his sense of humor. “Thanks for blowing up the guy who shot Ivy at the prison.”
“Wasn’t me. Once we convicted Yenang of crimes against sentience, Echo triggered an overload mechanism in the laser turret’s power pack. About the same time, Roz plugged his gun barrel. We’re not sure which caused the explosion, but I don’t want to find out. I don’t want either of my wives suffering with that guilt. I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention the deaths around them.”
Reuben zipped up his jumpsuit, careful of his copious body hair. “Sure. I hear you, boss.”
Max escorted him to the dining hall where the other partners gathered. Kesh sat on a bench and adjusted his sunglasses. Roz and her mother offered snacks. “Echo will attend by intercom.” No surprise. The Magi rarely felt well enough to leave her inner sanctum, and the stress of navigating jumps seemed to leave her drained.
When Reuben yawned, Alyssa shoved another cup of coffee his way. He wasn’t in the mood to be civil to her yet, so he grunted instead of saying, “Thanks.”
Chipper as ever, Roz stood at the head of the table. “Our first order of business is to vote on a new heading. During the jump, Jeeves showed signs of advanced intelligence. Five of the six partners have already decided to present this fact to the proper Convocation committee on Giragog. How do you feel about that, Kesh?”
The captain rubbed his face. “Any smart mammals seem like an oxymoron to the cold-bloods. I’ve never even seen the creature.”
“She’s afraid of Saurians,” Roz said apologetically.
“I trust the rest of you, but I won’t testify about sentience. It would draw too much attention to me.” Kesh didn’t specify whether he feared exposure for embezzling from the mob, assuming his dead brother’s identity, or his homosexuality.
Roz smiled. “Understood.”
“Isn’t Giragog a Phib world?” Kesh asked.
Reuben explained, “We won it in the war. I guess the leadership wanted to show off the prize and how much we’ve improved the planet.”
“That’s an ill-advised expense,” the Saurian accountant said. “You’ve converted a windfall into a loss for the next century. How are you Goats ever going to repay your debts if you burn money like this?”
The last thing Reuben wanted to do was defend the spending spirals of foolish herd leaders. They regularly promised ridiculous benefits at public expense, but when the consequences came due, they came running to the Black Ram to save them.
Max raised his hand to prevent Reuben’s angry retort. “Speaking of Phib worlds, has anyone heard of someplace called Glory Point? The last Phib vessel to leave the prison system went there, and I was curious.”
Shaken by the reference, Reuben panicked inside. First, he was afraid his friend
s would think less of him if they heard the truth. Then he worried learning about the cold-blooded conspiracy might endanger their lives. I wish that old Phib had never told me the secret. In the end he kept silent because a part of him wanted the plot to succeed. “We’re drifting off topic. Given this long-term goal, I thought we were going to vote on our route to Giragog.”
“Right.” Roz nodded and took command of the meeting. “As you can tell from our arrival in Salizar B, the new star drive works!”
Alyssa applauded, and everyone but Kesh followed suit.
In her excitement, Roz babbled for a few moments about the underlying math. “We can feed the error from this trial into the equations we found in the professor’s notes, and with several iterations find a new value for the—”
“Why do you keep calling the star B?” Max interrupted.
Echo appeared as a hologram of a deceased actress, Gina Millhouse Graham, dressed in a usual sarong. Though she could appear as anyone, the Magi neutral had been trapped in this perfectly-symmetrical form since meeting Max. Today, her black hair was pinned up Japanese style. “These binary stars are farther apart than normal, so there are two space stations for the separate star lanes.” Normal ships could only travel along a lane to a nearby star of greater mass, like a zip line.
Roz glared at her spouses and continued as if no one had spoken. “The limitations of this new drive will shape our policies going forward. All of our technical feedback indicates a jump of fifteen parsecs is unsafe without further design changes.”
“How do we find the maximum jump length without incurring permanent damage?” asked Kesh.
“I’m so sorry about your vision,” she replied. “In future hops, we’ll move all the suspended-animation gear inside the shielded zone as Reuben has suggested. He’s already ordered extra backup systems installed to prevent a repeat failure.”
“All pioneers accept the risk,” Kesh said. “Tell me the distance.”
“Normally, when an engineer searches for a value, he would cut the second trial distance in half, in this case to a 7.5 parsecs hop. However, at that rate we couldn’t travel the forty-four parsecs to the Convocation in time.”