On the Shores of a Dark Sea (Dark Seas Series Book 2)

by Damon Alan

  Merik Sur’batti turned and walked into the black marble palace.

  Alarin stood alone and wondered what further payment the gods would demand of him for loving her.

  Chapter 3 - A God is Born

  Sometime just before Shortnight

  Eislen lay alone in a field of purple swathgrass, face up toward a darkening sky.

  Em’Jalai hung overhead, in her spot. The massive goddess shed heat on his face as orange hot breath burst from within her. Her breath gave life to Nula Armana. She was the second greatest thing in the sky. Where Heaven is, or so Elder Miker says. All the time.

  He rested on a large fur, in case Shortnight brought a chill. Em' Faroo entered his wife, Em' Jalai, and darkness deepened across the fields as the Mother slowly enveloped the Father. Next to Eislen lay a small bag, full of sweet pastries. A soft skin of mildwine rested on his pack.

  A goat crept closer, trying to sneak up on his bag of goodies. Eislen turned his head to look at her and she realized she was caught.

  “Naaaa.”

  Eislen shooed her away. “Go on Mattie, you have tender grass everywhere.”

  “Nyeaa,” Mattie bleated at him before walking a short distance away. She skulked, waiting for a chance to sneak back when he wasn't looking. He'd seen it before.

  “Watching the sky tonight should be comfortable and tasty.” Eislen liked to pretend he was talking to Mattie as he spoke to himself. A goatherd rarely had anybody human to share such moments with.

  This Shortnight was one of the longest of the year, Em’ Faroo was entering his wife in her fat middle. The Tapestry was nowhere to be seen. Eislen was eager to see burning souls, the only direct evidence of the existence of the gods. They’d streak across the sky, a flaming finger in the darkness, only be to gone a moment later.

  He wondered what the souls did to offend the gods, to be cast down from Heaven. The gods were mysterious, and he hoped he’d meet their unknown standards when he died.

  Em' Faroo, in his fiery glory, was finally behind Em' Jalai and gone from view. His brilliance would not be contained. Em’Jalai wore a ring of light around her as a symbol of her part in the consummation. With Faroo distracted men had nobody to protect them. It was said that Jalai took these moments to judge the value of men, but Eislen didn’t feel the goddess staring into his soul.

  Lightning played on her skin, and she showed her jewelry. Yellows, greens, and reds flared as she raged.

  Eislen listened to goats bleating in the darkness and felt small.

  Across the sky only a few dozen lights sparkled. The lights were places mortals never visited, and although hidden at the moment Em' Faroo was the overwhelming light that brought life to everything. Jalai was Faroo’s wife, and like many wives was often angry and red. Sometimes the fire burning within her welled up for all to see.

  Eislen was eager to see burning souls. He tried to ignore the judging immensity of Jalai as he pondered the significance of any signs the sky revealed. He wasn't sure how much he believed, although he was afraid to tell that to anyone but his goats. He had a lot of time to contemplate the philosophical issues, and in his contemplation doubts were birthed.

  He'd never seen any proof that the gods cared one bit about anything people did.

  It was quiet laying in the grass. The sounds of his flock faded away as they grew quiet to wait out the few hours of shortnight. Even Mattie lay down to rest. In the distance a wild dog howled, but it too surrendered to the darkness in short order.

  Chancho bugs darted from swathgrass blade to rock outcropping looking for mates. A few burning souls streaked across the sky, blazing orange for a moment. Quickly bored, Eislen looked at Fandama, Jalai's oldest daughter. The Goddess of Love.

  Fandama blazed a brilliant yellow in the sky, far brighter than any other object above him. Although much smaller, she was brilliant next to her dark, angry mother. Fandama was not married, although Yoro the Hunter chased her. Sometimes he raced past her, missing his target. Fandama was nearly always in the sky, one side of Jalai or another. Miker said Yoro’s goal was to surprise Fandama and have his way with her maidenhood, but it never worked.

  “You'd be better off giving up,” Eislen said to the God of Hunters.

  Mattie startled at Eislen's voice, which in turn startled Eislen.

  “Mattie, you scared me. Go over with the others and sleep or eat grass.”

  “Nyaaaa,” Mattie complained, but rose and wandered off.

  Eislen wondered what it would be like on Fandama, with the Goddess. Would it be like being surrounded by beautiful sex? That was what he hoped, but he didn't know. The closest thing he'd seen to gods were the cruel and avaricious adepts. If that's how gods were, he wanted no part of it.

  The villagers said the adepts were the agents of Tsungte, put here to keep us on the correct path so our souls would not be lost to the abyss. If so, Tsungte was cruel and avaricious as well.

  * * *

  A chancho mating pair landed on his nose, splaying their legs across his face. The hooks of their spiny legs held the creatures in place during their amorous embrace, and dug into his nose. Eislen was jolted from a stupor by the insects.

  “Pfffft. Go away, chanchos. I'm not a bed. Pffffft.” He brushed at his face, and the chanchos departed for less unstable mating grounds.

  He pulled the fur tighter around himself, but noticed something strange in the sky as he snuggled back into warmth. His eyes snapped wide in shock. A new light burned near Fandama, a light brighter than some of Jalai's smaller children. Not the streak of a burning soul, but a solid point. It glittered with the color of fire.

  “Jalai, were you pregnant? Has Faroo entered you and caused you to birth a new god?”

  Jalai was silent on the issue, but Eislen's eyes didn't lie. A new light was in the sky. A new god.

  His skin crawled. He had an inkling that he was seeing proof of the supernatural for the first time in his life.

  Eislen threw off his fur, jumped up and ran toward the village. Goats fled before him, bleating. In the near darkness he jumped over a small stone wall that separated town from pasture, then another as he moved straight toward his destination. Miker's house. He ran up to the house and hit the door with his fists.

  “Miker! Miker, come out.”

  A dim light came on inside. Miker was the local scribe, the man who saw to legal matters such as recording births and deaths, a learned man. He would know what this meant. After an eternity, the older man opened the door.

  “What is it, Eislen? Why aren't you with the goats?”

  “Elder Miker, come with me. Come now.” Although Miker was wearing only a sleeping smock, Eislen grabbed the older man by the arm and pulled him into the street. At the same time he licked his fingers then pinched the wick on Miker's oil lamp, putting it out.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Miker hissed.

  “Just look. I haven't lost anything. I've found something.” Eislen pointed at the sky toward Fandama, and Miker gasped.

  Miker looked at the new light for a moment. Eislen watched Miker, hoping the Elder would have an answer. Instead Miker looked down at the ground and stroked his beard. He looked back up at the light, then back down several times, annoying Eislen. The boy danced impatiently waiting for the elder.

  The old man finally looked Eislen in the face. “What in the gods...?”

  “A new god Miker?”

  Miker apologized for doubting Eislen, in Miker's way. “You were wise to wake me, thank you. Return to your herd and make sure they're safe. We will talk later, during Secondday.”

  “But—”

  “No buts tonight. Bring in the flock before Longnight and we'll talk before you sleep. The animals are alone, and may be wandering off. Go.”

  Eislen nodded and ran back to his herd.

  Chapter 4 - Unexpected Squatters

  24 JUNI 15327

  Sarah struggled to sort through the monstrous data stream coming in from probes scattered around the Oasis system. The hou
nds reported minerals, atmospheric volatiles, and most importantly, water. Oasis was a rich system overall, except for the heavier elements. But even those were present on the inner two terrestrials and in some asteroids.

  She sent the Yascurra and Fyurigan to mine asteroids, with four other ships for support. The Stennis and the Schein entered orbit around Oasis III. The Stennis dropped to a low orbit and collected hydrogen from the planet while the Schein orbited overhead defensively.

  “Look at that,” Corriea said. Giant clouds of sodium gas billowed up toward space before cooling and falling back toward the planet as sodium rain.

  “You've never seen that before?” Gilbert prodded.

  Corriea looked stunned. “You have sir?”

  “No, of course not,” Gilbert replied. “But since you're the pilot and we're this close I'd feel better if you had.”

  The Stennis shuddered as it hit a small pocket of gas billowing into space.

  Sarah looked at Gilbert, whose face showed his apprehension. “What’s wrong, Commander?”

  Gilbert grabbed his safety harness and hung on for dear life. “Turbulence. The Stennis is pretty beat up. I’d hate to see him come apart this way.”

  “The stress of this is nothing compared to what happens when we jump. We’ve survived that twice since Hamor. We’ll be okay.”

  Gilbert didn’t look comforted.

  Sarah laughed before offering Gilbert an indirect distraction. “Lieutenant Corriea, I named the star, you name the gas giant. You're the navigator and pilot, you flew us here, so you get the honor.”

  “It looks like burning coal. Like an ember.” Corriea thought a moment. “Ember is good, if you like it Captain.”

  The name wasn’t what she’d expected. “Ember. Seems a bit too nice when you're looking at it now... but I suppose it's more inviting than Inferno, which is what I was thinking. Ember it is.”

  Lieutenant Harmeen interrupted the discussion. “Fuel scoop fully deployed, Captain.”

  Vents opened on the scoop, increasing drag on the Stennis. The ship jolted hard.

  Gilbert tightened the buckles on his harness, and Sarah tried not to let him see her smile.

  More distraction was in order. “Very good, Mr. Harmeen. What's the score?”

  “Deuterium, Tritium, Helium three, it’s all here.” Harmeen tossed his display onto the main screen. “We'll dump everything else we scoop.”

  “Excellent. Fill the tanks.”

  Sarah watched the main viewscreen as the Stennis fed. Massive black cloud banks passed below, lightning flashed among them, the spaces between the rising banks of sodium were filled with the colors of a bed of molten lava. Moons rose into view then passed overhead as the Stennis raced on.

  A call from their escort ship broke her reverie. “Stennis, Schein.”

  “I got it, Lieutenant Seto,” Sarah said, hitting the comm. “Captain Dayson.”

  “Captain Dayson, Captain Lorre. You have to see the visual we’re getting from here.”

  “You've never done one of these ops either, Brian?”

  “Who does? This is why tankers were invented. I'm sending the video now. Radio is too jammed up, it’s on laser.”

  “Please,” Sarah replied. “I never tire of seeing my ship in action.”

  Lorre laughed. “Every captain says that. Here it comes.”

  The main screen switched to the view of the Stennis from the Schein. Sarah's ship raced along just above the atmosphere, the nose glowing red from contact with the occasional atmospheric geyser. When the air in front of them was dense enough a visible compression wave formed as the superheated gas turned to plasma. More impressive, however, were the giant ponytails of expelled gas stretching behind. As massive amounts of hydrogen and helium raced up the fuel scoop to the vessel, the sorters on board the Stennis discarded most of the hydrogen and helium after sifting out the tritium and deuterium. The ejected gasses were superheated from friction and created a rooster tail a thousand kilometers long.

  Sounds of awe broke out among the bridge crew.

  “Pipe this to every holoscreen on the ship,” Sarah said. She tapped the comm connection to their escort, “Brian, make sure your crew sees this. Sights like this don't come along too often.”

  Agreed,” he answered. “That’s why I already shared it with them.”

  Sarah tapped the ship wide comm. “This is the Captain. Unless you're conducting a mission critical task, take a moment to look at a holoscreen near your position. This is a first for all of us, except those of you who've served on tankers. All that power below us, and we're taking the slightest nibble for ourselves. Spend a few minutes and realize that this ship and your teamwork can master the most severe circumstances. Together, we will overcome any obstacle. Dayson out.”

  “That's incredible,” Harmeen said. “I'm glad we don't have to do it every day, though.” He grinned an evil grin. “I’d hate to think of what it does to our structural integrity over time.”

  “Stow it, Lieutenant,” Gilbert growled.

  “Captain Lorre, thanks. We’ll keep a recording and pipe it out to the other ships later,” Sarah said, ignoring the banter of her officers.

  “My pleasure. Tell your crew to hang on, it looks like Stennis is taking a few jolts. We've got a nice smooth ride up here.”

  She looked at Gilbert and shrugged. “Great. Dayson out.”

  Ahead, above the sodium and potassium clouds, a blue moon rose.

  “That's where I want to be,” Seto said.

  Gilbert chuckled. “You and me both. Who's naming the moon, Captain?”

  “I think home should be named by a woman. Is that sexist?” Sarah laughed. “Ensign Dantora will do the honors, she was first to lay eyes on it.” Sarah punched in the comm code for Science.

  “Ensign Dantora.”

  “Ensign, this is the Captain. I'd like you to name the planet... well, moon that we will be calling home. You discovered it.”

  “Me? I just do the science, Captain, I'm not poetic or anything.”

  Sarah insisted. “That's okay, Ensign. One word isn't a poem.”

  “I... like Refuge. That's what it is. I've been thinking about how lucky we are to have found this place, and each discovery seems to improve our chances. Even if the Hive gets the whole galaxy, they'll never come way out here.”

  “Never say never, but not likely,” Sarah agreed.

  “Refuge then. I'll enter it in the log,” Gilbert offered. “Anything for a distraction.”

  “Give me a full rundown on the system, Ensign Dantora. Push the visual to the bridge,” Sarah ordered.

  The main screen changed to a display of the Oasis system, and Dantora started her briefing. “A K4 class orange dwarf is in the center of the screen. The two small rocky bodies orbiting in close are tidally locked, baking on the sunward side, forever frozen on their dark sides. They orbit at seven and fourteen million kilometers from the star. A sparse asteroid belt orbits at twenty-five to forty million kilometers. Oasis III, now Ember, orbits at seventy million.”

  “Tell us about the Ember system,” Gilbert requested.

  Dantora changed the screen image to illustrate the moon system of the planet currently rattling their ship. “Ember is massive, eleven Jovian masses. Jupiter, the origin of the term Jovian, is a gas giant in the Sol system which provides the baseline we measure gas giants by. Ember is a Class IV gas giant, with a surface temperate between nine hundred and twelve hundred Celsius. Ember orbits Oasis in eleven and one half days less than the Galactic Standard Year.”

  “And Refuge? What do we know?” Sarah asked.

  “Not a lot of up close detail yet. At twenty-eight thousand kilometers in diameter, it’s a large terrestrial. The moon orbits with little eccentricity relative to Ember. It tilts relative to the star with Ember’s axial tilt, which is just over thirty degrees.”

  “And that means?” Gilbert asked.

  “It means seasons, sir. It also means that the Ember facing side of Refuge has a day
broken in the middle by a few hours of darkness as it passes through Ember’s shadow. After the second day, if you will, the Ember facing side has about twenty-seven hours of night. On the side facing away from Ember, the day is twenty-seven hours, the night is the same. No break in the middle of the day.”

  “It’s going to be interesting creating a local calender for us then,” Seto observed.

  “Very much so,” Dantora agreed. As for the surface of Refuge, this is all I know so far. The ratio of ocean eighty-five percent, land fifteen. Even with that low amount of land relative to ocean, it has three times the inhabitable surface area of the Earth.”

  “Wow,” Gilbert said, looking at Sarah. “It will take a few years for us to fill up that much space.”

  Sarah blushed unexpectedly.

  Get your mind out of the gutter, Sarah. He didn’t mean you and him personally.

  Dantora continued, inadvertently rescuing Sarah from her own thoughts. “It has a density of a bit under four grams per cubic centimeter, compared to Earth’s five and a half grams. That means the surface gravity of Refuge is only sixteen percent higher than Earth’s, despite the massive size. It also means that Refuge must be very metal poor. We’ll have to get our metals from space.”

  Sarah shrugged that off. “We can do that. Lots of worlds are metal poor in their crusts. We’ll adapt.”

  Dantora was silent, the visuals on the main screen didn’t change.

  “Ensign? Still there?” Gilbert asked.

  “Captain, I have exabytes of data coming in from the probes, I need to give it a once over if you’ll excuse me.” Dantora was abrupt, with urgency in her voice.

  Something about Dantora’s tone didn’t sit well with Sarah. She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. “Of course. Let us know if you find something. Bridge out.” Sarah cut the comm and looked at Gilbert, who raised one eyebrow.

  “I'm glad I don't lack in social skills,” Gilbert said.

  “If you're saying that Eris does, Commander, I disagree,” Corriea said.

  Sarah arched her eyebrow. “Eris?”