Colossus grated something mechanical at Balta, and the captain grunted in response.
“No patrols,” she called out. “They never saw us. We’re in!”
As if that was supposed to make her passengers feel any better as she took the ship into another incredibly steep turn, corkscrewing between two rocks, each three times the size of the Red Robert. They squeezed through, and although Petrick was unable to see the giant rocks actually collide behind them, the shockwave that jolted them forward and the rain of smaller debris that was shot after them gave him an idea of why there was so much dust inside the Wall.
Again, there was no rotating gravity well at the Wall. Rotation is what spreads everything out on the same plane in space, keeps everything moving in the same direction. The Wall, therefore, was completely unlike any asteroid field orbiting a star. The only attractions that created movement among these giant pieces of rock were between the rocks themselves. It made sense to Petrick, then, that the Wall was so much more dense toward its center than it was at the edges. Attracted to each other by their mass, the rocks crushed in upon each other more and more toward the center. Over millennia upon millennia, the Wall was contracting, ever so slowly, one collision at a time. The Wall was pulverizing itself from the inside out.
Barry and Dedrin each looked like they were about to hurl by the time the rocks finally began to clear ever so slightly, and the ship stopped its pitching and rolling. Balta eased up on their speed as well. Petrick regained his footing and peered outside the cockpit. Everything was still completely bathed in brown dust, murky and impenetrable. But the cockpit display was brightly telling them that a corner of the massive Gateway Station was dead ahead. Balta pointed to where their orange course line disappeared.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Liberatia.” She shook her head with an odd smile. “It’s the armpit of the galaxy, but it’s home.”
“I thought you said that this station was under Authority control,” Petrick said.
“Sure,” she said. “The portion of it surrounding the Central Gateway. But these far edge sections haven’t been used regularly for almost two hundred years. With the meager amount of interstellar travel these days, why would they need any more than the one gateway?”
She pointed, and a new section of the display lit up, showing them another large opening in the ancient alien structure: another massive gateway. Or, at least, what was left of one. It was jagged, woefully incomplete, and its domes and corridors were cracked and broken. Like Aaron’s Landing, it was clearly abandoned.
Except . . . except they could see some lights on as they moved closer through the dusty brown haze. A tiny section of the massive relic showed telltale signs of life. It was precisely where the Red Robert was heading. Liberatia.
“How is it that the Authority doesn’t just come here and shut it down?” Arris asked. “If this is where all the people are smuggled through?”
“We move locations every few months,” Balta said as she tapped on a few controls and a hangar bay lit up the display. “This old station is way too big for them to keep an eye on all the time. Raids are rare.”
The closer the ship moved, the more apparent it became just how decrepit and run-down this area of the giant structure actually was. It looked like a fallen tree on the forest floor, rotting out from the inside as debris piled upon its exterior.
“You live there?” Suzy said, screwing her face up in disapproval and disbelief.
“I live on my ship,” Balta replied, not taking her eyes off her destination. “But for any woman or man without a home, Liberatia is as close as you can get.”
31
“REMEMBER WHAT WE DISCUSSED,” Haber said as the children stuffed their few belongings, food rations, water, and the like into their travel packs.
“Don’t tell anyone who we are,” Barry repeated from his middle bunk.
“Or what we’re doing here,” Suzy added.
“Haber, then how are we going to figure out when my dad came through?” Petrick asked.
“You children will let me do the inquiring,” Haber said. “Once we’ve determined how to access the travel records, we can look the information up ourselves. Nobody has to know.”
“Won’t they be suspicious anyway?” Suzy asked.
“I’m sure everyone here will be suspicious,” Haber said, stopping his movements and looking at each of them. “Up to a price, at least. Everything has its price.”
“Yeah, about price,” said Barry, “we don’t have anything to sell.”
“We do,” Haber replied, and Petrick looked at him in surprise, but Haber didn’t elaborate.
His body language, however, spoke for him when he clutched the pack that Petrick knew held several of his father’s inventions. Clever android, Petrick thought. He’d planned ahead.
“Until we find someone willing to trade,” Haber continued, “we are a family traveling to the Outer Rim to escape the draft. Just like everyone else. Understood?”
The children nodded. Haber looked directly at Petrick, and Suzy socked him in the shoulder for good measure.
“Got it,” Petrick said ruefully.
They hoisted their packs, which were much heavier now that they were laden with more provisions than they’d initially left with. Haber had plundered the mess hall stores the night before, whipping up several dehydrated meals that wouldn’t spoil and then vacuum-sealing them. Suzy had asked whether or not the captain would be upset if she found out, and Haber replied with a refrain similar to the one he was currently singing: What someone doesn’t know won’t hurt them . . . or, more importantly, us.
They were outside the ship moments later, and they took in the landing bay that surrounded them. It was empty, except for their ship, and it echoed the slovenly look of the outside of the station. Behind them was a rectangle open to space beyond, and an energy field could be seen cracking and flickering every few seconds—the only thing holding in the atmosphere the band of travelers was breathing. With each flicker, Petrick could have sworn he saw wisps of air get sucked out and instantly freeze solid. It was not a reassuring sight.
One might also expect that there would be attendants from the station servicing the Red Robert, refueling and the like. But the landing deck was empty—except for Balta, who’d opened up the cargo hold and could be heard barking some orders at Colossus about unloading Dedrin and Arris’s belongings. The couple was still inside, Petrick guessed, but as soon as he had done so, he saw the two of them peek their heads out from the hold. Barry smiled and waved to them. Arris was holding something in her hands.
“We wanted to wish you well,” Dedrin said as they reached the group, “before we left for our transport.”
“We don’t have much to offer you,” said Arris, “but this is a kuna gem from our home . . . well, old province.” She uncovered a beautiful, albeit small, gold-flaked, round jade-colored stone. “It is meant to bring good luck.”
“We thought perhaps you could use it to find the information you’re looking for,” Dedrin said. “It should be quite valuable.”
Barry reached for the stone, and Arris plopped it into his round fingers with a large smile.
Barry grinned and showed it to Haber, who was already shaking his head.
“We cannot accept this,” Haber said. “It is very kind—”
“Please,” said Dedrin. “It is exceptionally bad form to let traveling guests leave without some sort of gift to aid them in their journey.”
“We have our own items for trade,” Haber replied, again refusing the gift. “But thank you for the thought.”
“Why can’t we keep it?” Barry asked, looking unpleasantly confused.
“It’s obviously something quite valuable to them,” Haber answered, sounding strained. “And we’ve done nothing to deserve such a gift.”
“You heard them,” Barry said back. “And it’s so pretty.”
“Barry!” Suzy stomped her feet. “It’d be rude!”
“Nuh-u
h, they said it would be rude not to keep it.”
“Barry, please return the stone to them,” Haber commanded.
“You’re supposed to do what I say,” Barry said, challenging him. “Remember, that’s what you said. You have to do what your master says.”
“No, he has to do what Petrick says,” Suzy said, correcting him.
Haber, Barry, and Suzy all turned to Petrick. Petrick looked back at them, and then at Dedrin and Arris, who were looking equally uncomfortable. It took him a moment to realize that they were waiting for him to make the decision. For him to decide what should happen.
“Well?” said Suzy.
Petrick sucked in a breath. What to do?
“I think . . . ,” he started, and then the words tumbled out. “I think that it’s a lovely gift and we are honored to be a part of your province’s tradition. Thank you.”
Dedrin and Arris beamed.
“You are welcome,” Arris said, and gave Petrick a hug. She then proceeded to hug Suzy and Barry, and then Haber, which was one of the most hilariously awkward comings together of two bodies that Petrick had ever witnessed. Of all Haber’s impressively programmed abilities, hugging was not one of them. Once it was all done, an idea occurred to Petrick.
“Perhaps we can return the favor,” he said, reaching into his pack. “We don’t have much, but a meal, maybe, cooked and dehydrated last night by—”
“No no no,” said Dedrin, getting the uncomfortable look on his face again. “It would be equally rude of us to accept a gift from travelers such as yourselves.”
“But you’re travelers too,” Barry said, starting to reach into his pack as well. He looked inside and rummaged around for a moment. What came out was a juice box.
Barry looked at the juice box for a long time. Petrick realized he hadn’t seen Barry sucking on one of those since they’d left Indacar. It was obviously the last one, and he’d obviously been saving it for a long time. Barry looked up at the couple and then back at the juice box, torn. His hesitation underscored just how precious it was to him.
“We can’t,” Arris said to him, holding up a hand.
“You can,” said Barry after another long moment, and then he plopped his precious juice into her other hand. “It’s not much, but we give it to you for your hospitality, and to nourish you on your own journey.”
It was as serious as Petrick had ever seen Barry about anything, and Arris apparently picked up on that, because she dropped her hand of refusal and smiled at him.
“We are honored,” she said.
“Where’s my juice box?”
The voice came from the direction of the cargo hold, and Balta stepped out grimy and sweaty, full of sass.
“It wasn’t their hospitality, now, was it?” she said in a decidedly mocking tone. “It was my ship you stowed away on. Shouldn’t that be my juice box?”
The group stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with Balta’s question. It wasn’t clear if she was serious, and she was butting into a conversation that hadn’t planned on her presence. Barry, after a moment, went to grab the small box from Arris’s hand with the intention of bringing it over to the captain.
“Oh stop,” Balta said. “I’m only kidding. What am I going to do with a juice box? It’s a stupid kid’s present.”
And then she walked off.
Petrick frowned, trying to figure out why Balta had even said anything in the first place then. Of course it was a kid’s present. Barry was a kid. Why point that out, unless for some unbelievable reason she actually did want a present? Or maybe she was just trying to make them all feel sorry for stealing onto her ship like they had? One last jab? Eventually, he shook his head and gave up.
Barry went in for a hug with Arris, and she hugged him back. The rest of the group was content to nod and smile at each other. Then Dedrin and Arris walked back into the hold with a small wave.
“They are so nice,” Barry said with a deep sigh.
That left Haber, Petrick, Barry, Suzy, and Clarke all alone again. They looked once more at the hangar bay around them. A single exit lay across the way. Everyone re-shouldered their packs and set off toward it.
They reached the hallway that led from the hangar bay, and the Red Robert receded from view as they entered. Petrick could see an immediate problem: the hall ran in two directions. Neither was marked, neither showed any activity of any kind to indicate what lay in that direction, and both stank of mildew and neglect.
“Which way?” Petrick asked.
“I . . .” Haber trailed off, looking at the walls around them for some indication of where they were. “I do not know.”
Behind them, a clanging sound came rumbling toward them. They turned and saw Balta approaching in front of a rattling cart full of small metal containers, Colossus pushing it from behind. Petrick immediately recognized the cart’s contents as starstuff pods. Empty ones, it looked like. They must be kept in that fuel storage room I saw, he thought, remembering the only tour he’d been able to take of the Red Robert’s core room.
“Lost already?” Balta said in a not-so-subtly mocking tone. “I’d have figured the son of Fenton the Seeker would know his way around a measly space station.”
Petrick gritted his teeth.
“We’re looking for the marketplace facilities in Liberatia,” Haber said. “They don’t seem to be marked.”
“It doesn’t pay to mark things down when you’re a station on the run from the Authority,” Balta grunted, and she wheeled past them, taking the corridor to the right-hand side.
“Are you going to the marketplace?” Haber asked her as she rumbled away.
The round captain didn’t answer them; she just kept on walking with Colossus in tow.
“She’s so rude,” Suzy snorted in disgust.
“Indeed,” said Haber, using his response of choice. “However, I would think she should lead us right to the marketplace if we were to follow her.”
“What makes you say that?” Barry asked.
“Those are fuel pods,” Petrick answered. “She’s going to buy starstuff.”
The marketplace was a sea of Baltas. In all shapes and sizes, granted, but it overflowed with men and women with the same scowling faces, squinting glares, receding hairlines, and ruddy, oily-looking skin. They were an uncouth group of life-weary criminals, at least according to the Authority, who said nobody could travel among the stars except those they gave their permission and collected their dues from. Our foursome stood out from the group dramatically.
As the throngs of people strode past them, giving them glances, Petrick realized that his clothes were painfully simple. He’d never really noticed his clothing before now: a simple hand-woven tan tunic with long sleeves that he wore up or down, thick gray trousers with telltale brown dirt spots on the knees and cuffs, and a pair of plain leather shoes from the lab. What some of these other people were wearing, though . . . they were by no means any less worn or dirty, but they comparatively shone like the colors of the rainbow. Golds and greens and reds and blues, all mixed with dirt, sweat, and grime.
The longer our four stood at one of the many entranceways to the large-chambered marketplace, the more they then began to see other wide-eyed people milling about inside, some with similarly simple clothing. Petrick realized those fellow plain-clothed people must be travelers such as Dedrin and Arris, and such as himself to some extent, adrift among this rough crowd trying to reach the other side of the Wall and start a new life, or find a long lost one.
“Stay close,” said Haber, and they waded into the throngs of people.
The marketplace was haphazardly organized, to say the least. There were very few clearly delineated walkways, and proprietors were set up in little more than tents of varying size and sophistication. As the children walked tightly together behind their tall android companion, they passed by people buying and selling and haggling over trinkets, powders, food, engine parts, charts, drink—there were several makeshift bars, in fac
t—and anything else you could conceive of.
Barry nearly jumped out of his shirt when a holographic firework exploded right above his head. Suzy did the same when a passing man smiled a toothless smile at her and mumbled something about her being “very pretty.” She linked arms with Petrick and Barry so that now all three of them were physically connected to each other.
Clarke, meanwhile, was being very distractible, weaving among the people around them and sniffing interesting smells everywhere they went. It made Petrick nervous enough to snatch him up from the ground and hold him for the remainder of their search.
They’d been walking aimlessly for some time when Haber finally stopped, and the children bumped into him from behind. They’d reached the center of the large room. It was hard to tell from the edges of the room what it had once been, but now, standing in the middle of it, Petrick realized that it had clearly been a shipyard of some kind. He could see cranes folded up or broken along the walls, and on one far wall was a huge closed hangar door that conceivably led to space. The floor sloped gently toward that door, where a completed ship would have been rolled out into the vacuum beyond to take flight.
The place ached with history. Its past was long forgotten in the hustle and bustle of this rowdy community as they jockeyed for financial gain, supplies, and pleasures before taking their leave of this temporary place. How grand the Gateway Station must have been in its heyday. Giant ships being built to ferry the millions of people that would need such a large ship to be built, to travel through one of the original gateways in the Wall, of which there was now only one . . . well, two, if you counted the one Liberatia had resurrected.
The room was a silent monument to an age that had crumbled, and walking over those ruins, Petrick felt like an insect crawling over a colossal fallen corpse. Life doesn’t simply end when a Titan falls. It goes on, scurrying at its feet, waiting for another giant to rise someday.
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