by J. S. Morin
No even for Savior Carl, it seemed. No, especially not for Carl. He’d never given much thought to his reputation on the other side of the war. He didn’t know much about any particular Eyndar, and he’d always assumed that the ambivalence worked both ways. Then again, if one of them was a pilot who’d dusted hundreds of humans, maybe he’d have bothered to learn the guy’s name.
“Yeah. They can ride with us. Things are a little cramped these days, but we’ll—”
“They can have my quarters,” Rai Kub said.
Carl blinked. “You plan on sleeping in the cargo bay or something?”
Tuu Nau held out a hand, and Rai Kub stepped closer. The high councilor’s hand settled on Rai Kub’s shoulder. “Rai Kub has been elevated to the council. His experience in the wider world has made him an ideal fit for the post of Minister of Galactic Affairs. He was instrumental in putting together this defensive and trade pact in record time.”
“I learned from a master,” Rai Kub said, hanging his head humbly. When Tuu Nau wasn’t looking, he shot Carl a glare that said not to contradict him on this point. Since losing his security officer now looked like a done deal, he didn’t spoil Rai Kub’s parade by telling Tuu Nau what a naive optimist his new minister really was.
On-the-job training would do the big fella some good.
He stepped around the high councilor’s desk to offer an awkward hug. “Well, Rai Kub. It’s a shame to lose you, but I can’t offer the kind of life you’ve earned down here. Best of luck, and if the Eyndar ever decide to bail on you, lemme know.”
“Go with our blessings, Savior Carl. The treaty doesn’t take effect until morning. Enjoy the rest of the celebration.”
# # #
It was weeks later. Carousel had been packed up with everything the Rucker Syndicate could uproot. A fleet of cargo ships and personnel transports was set to make astral. The orbital space around Carousel was littered with the ships of both the Rucker Syndicate and Poet Fleet during the transition of ownership.
Tanny took the incoming comm in her quarters.
Admiral Chisholm’s face appeared. “I trust you’ll be leaving orbit shortly,” she said in that phony voice that tried to imitate a refined childhood.
Tanny had seen the syndicate’s files on Chisholm. Her father had been a pirate. Her grandmother had been a pirate. The woman had been around sleazy, blasters-first ship plunderers her whole life. She’d been born in space, never attended school, and any refinement she’d acquired had been taught the same as grammar and arithmetic—not absorbed culturally as part of her upbringing.
“Yeah. We’re heading off for greener pastures. Won’t claim I’ll miss that ball of soot you won.”
“Far better to reek of soot and stink of filthy hardcoin than to while away the days separating coins from wheat chaff,” Chisholm replied. The conversation reminded Tanny how much she wished she could punch someone through a comm feed. The longer she spoke with the pirate, the greater the urge to peel that fake, condescending smile off her face and cram it up her ass.
“We’re under way within the hour. I don’t expect to speak with you again,” Tanny said with as much steel as she could put to her words. There was just something about being a 150 kilos with a bass voice that her father had and she’d never duplicate.
“Agreed,” Chisholm said. “Should our paths cross once more, it shall be an unhappy day—for both of us.”
Tanny flicked off the comm, fuming silently at the blank screen. She needed to break the sharp edges off her mood. The cargo hold was where she needed to be.
Of all the ships in the Rucker convoy, this was the emptiest. And of all the cargo ships, it was the only one acting as a transport. While the main cargo hold was scattered around the periphery with pre-fab building components, crates of food, furniture, and equipment, the central area was spread with artificial grass.
“Mommy!” Kubu shouted as Tanny entered. “Are we going soon? Will we be back on the jungle moon soon? How soon can Kubu eat those hunting things from the big ship?”
Kubu towered over her, dripping slobber just centimeters from her feet. His rough fur brushed her face in a nuzzle that was just barely safe considering how excited he was.
“Calm down, Kubu,” Tanny told him. “It’s going to be a couple weeks getting there. Ithaca’s a long way off, and we need to keep the convoy together in case there’s trouble.”
“Will we see Carl there?” Kubu asked. “And Esper? And Mr. Roddy and Mort?”
Tanny shook her head. “They don’t live there anymore. There are still people, but you won’t know most of them.” Seeing his ears droop, she felt the need to cheer him up. “But all the yummy animals are still there. They might even be able to keep up their population despite you eating them. It’s a big moon.”
“Oh boy! I can’t wait!”
The door to the main corridor of the ship opened, and Enzio strode in. “Aha! Thought I might find you down here. Kubu, can I have a word with Tanny? Alone?”
Kubu nodded. “OK.” He bounded off.
Tanny watched him go. Making Ithaca pay off on the promise of those rich profits would be a lot more work than sitting back in the Freeride system and taking a cut of the local commerce. But knowing how happy Kubu would be made the coming efforts all seem worthwhile.
“What do you want?” Tanny asked. Things hadn’t been the same between them since New Garrelon. Under the stress of the planetary stakes, neither had shown their finest colors. But Tanny would be damned if she apologized before he did. There were plenty of men in the syndicate who could warm half a bed and weren’t nearly the trouble Enzio could be.
“We’re heading out soon.”
“Yeah.”
“We should warn Chuck Ramsey that we’re coming,” Enzio said.
Tanny shook her head. “My father advised against it. They might be friends, but he knows Chuck’s an astral gate salesman. With advanced warning, who knows what he might pull to keep us from taking possession?”
“Ramsey might have told him already,” Enzio said. “We’d look neighborly instead of like thieves skulking in under cover of darkness.”
“Carl wouldn’t have told him. They don’t talk.”
“Let me make the call,” Enzio said.
Tanny barked a laugh. “Chuck would twist you up in knots. No offense, but there’s a reason Carl’s a compulsive liar—it’s genetic.”
Enzio harrumphed. “You think so, huh? Listen, maybe you think I’m just a spell peddler your father bought for twice the Convocation’s going rate, but I argue with the universe on a daily basis. You let me handle the likes of Charles Chaplin Ramsey.” He spun on his heel to depart.
“Why do you know his full name?” Tanny asked.
“Huh?” Enzio replied.
“You study up on him or something?” Tanny asked, head cocked. “Usually anything that requires the omni is too much effort for you.”
“Just hold up,” Enzio said. “That whole ‘let me handle it’ spiel was my walking-out line. You can’t go messing with a man’s walking-out line, not when he’s got a reputation to maintain with the universe at large…”
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Books by J.S. Morin
Black Ocean
Black Ocean is a fast-paced fantasy space opera series about the small crew of the Mobius trying to squeeze out a living. If you lo
ve fantasy and sci-fi, and still lament over the cancellation of Firefly, Black Ocean is the series for you!
Read about the Black Ocean series and discover where to buy at: blackoceanmissions.com
Twinborn Chronicles: Awakening
Experience the journey of mundane scribe Kyrus Hinterdale who discovers what it means to be Twinborn—and the dangers of getting caught using magic in a world that thinks it exists only in children’s stories.
Twinborn Chronicles: War of 3 Worlds
Then continue on into the world of Korr, where the Mad Tinker and his daughter try to save the humans from the oppressive race of Kuduks. When their war spills over into both Tellurak and Veydrus, what alliances will they need to forge to make sure the right side wins?
Read about the Mad Tinker Chronicles and discover where to buy at: twinbornchronicles.com
Robot Geneticists
Robot Geneticists brings genetic engineering into a post-apocalyptic Earth, 1000 years aliens obliterated all life.
Explore the ruins of the Human Age. Witness the glory of a world reclaimed from the apocalypse.
Charlie7 is the oldest robot alive. He’s seen everything from the fall of mankind at the hands of alien invaders to the rebuilding of a living world from the algae up. But what he hasn’t seen in over a thousand years is a healthy, intelligent human. When Eve stumbles into his life, the old robot finally has something worth coming out of retirement for: someone to protect.
Read about all of the Robot Geneticists books and discover where to buy at: robotgeneticists.com
About the Author
I am a creator of worlds and a destroyer of words. As a fantasy writer, my works range from traditional epics to futuristic fantasy with starships. I have worked as an unpaid Little League pitcher, a cashier, a student library aide, a factory grunt, a cubicle drone, and an engineer—there is some overlap in the last two.
Through it all, though, I was always a storyteller. Eventually I started writing books based on the stray stories in my head, and people kept telling me to write more of them. Now, that’s all I do for a living.
I enjoy strategy, worldbuilding, and the fantasy author’s privilege to make up words. I am a gamer, a joker, and a thinker of sideways thoughts. But I don’t dance, can’t sing, and my best artistic efforts fall short of your average notebook doodle. When you read my books, you are seeing me at my best.
My ultimate goal is to be both clever and right at the same time. I have it on good authority that I have yet to achieve it.
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