The Eye of Orion_Book 1_Gearjackers

by Mitch Michaelson

  “Light manipulation,” Steo said.

  There were no instructions to go with the red disc. Steo played with it and didn’t find it intuitive. He got unexpected results. The man went away and a starship appeared. It wasn’t like any Steo recognized. The ship starting spinning and he couldn’t stop it, so he tried to dismiss it. Another man appeared. Then the ship and the man popped away. Steo tried to bring the image back but got Renosha instead. The robot was new and shiny and had no robes on.

  Glaikis dropped in with Yuina in tow. The women looked at Steo and the nude robot.

  “What is wrong with you?” Yuina said.

  “What? No, I was just experimenting. It’s not what you think. I can’t control it,” Steo stumbled.

  He smacked the disc with his palm twice and the image of Renosha winked out.

  With a concerned look, Glaikis said, “Steo this is your ship. I think we should talk about some things. Not that. We will never speak of that again.”

  “Okay,” he said. He really had no idea where this was going.

  Glaikis continued. “We appreciate the latitude you give us, but we’re your bridge crew and we want more direction.”

  Yuina complained louder. “What in space are we doing out here? I need to know what I’m supposed to do! You can’t think I would have signed up if I knew you were going to put us in this much danger!”

  Glaikis said, “We’re not robots, and thank you for not treating us like that, but are we making decisions by committee?”

  He tried to understand what they meant. From the looks on their faces, he could tell this was important to them and he wanted to do what it took to work together. Normally, his independent streak made him think others didn’t want to be told what to do. Steo said what he felt. “You’re all smart. I trust and respect you.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Yuina said.

  Glaikis gave her a you’re-not-being-helpful look. “Please just consider being more clear about what you want, okay Steo? It’s your ship, so we look to you for decisions. That’s all we ask.”

  “Okay,” Steo said. “I can do that.” It sounded reasonable to him. He decided to be more active and vocal.

  The women left his room. Yuina parted with, “Shut your door next time.”

  On the way to the bridge, Glaikis wondered if Steo understood what they were asking. She had worked with green captains before, but they had some military experience. Glaikis decided she wasn’t the one to teach him. She could make decisions when he was away. But if he began to waver, or to fail, she would have to make another decision: whether to stay or leave.

  Once they arrived back in the bridge, Glaikis said, “Hawking, is the information on Kurzia Station current?”

  “Relatively, Pilot Yuina. We have some information from Foi, the contact on Zivang. Kurzia Station survives by people being able to navigate to it. It’s an amalgamated free station. Modules were added until it grew into a city. It’s better planned than others I’ve studied.”

  “What’s its protection like?” Glaikis asked.

  “They maintain balance with the many lawless factions of marauders in this sector. Kurzia Station has been attacked, but not recently. A powerful knight-mercenary vessel named the Basilica tried to attack but was destroyed. No one else has dared since then.”

  When they came out of FTL, Glaikis put a rendering of the station on the main panel. It looked like a haphazard 3D spider web. Metal blobs connected to other chunks in a chaotic jumble.

  “That’s not pretty,” Yuina said. “It must be miles and miles wide. How does it stay together?”

  Glaikis explained, “Most free stations are built in so-called deep space. Open areas light years from stars. There’s no spin, no solar wind. Since there’s no gravity to pull or push the station, it doesn’t have to be built strong.”

  Another panel showed Kurzia Station in the middle and dots of moving ships around. There were dozens of ships arriving, leaving or stopped nearby.

  Steo announced he only needed one person to join him and requested Glaikis. They wore their comfort harnesses and brought breath masks just in case.

  Where you docked determined how people treated you and where you were allowed to go in the city. If you docked at a module owned by a knight-mercenary company, it was assumed you were a pirate hunter. The Eye of Orion was clearly a new military ship, so Steo had Yuina dock at a merchant’s module. It cost a little more, but it made it look like they were seeking work. It was also near their destination inside the web.

  As Steo and Glaikis readied to disembark, Tully found them. “We should refresh, so I’ll connect to the station and get new gases.”

  One of the limiting factors of space flight was the need for oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen and other gases. Aboard ship they were reclaimed and recycled but they didn’t last forever. “Refreshing” was purging the ship’s internal atmosphere and replacing it, plus topping off stores.

  Glaikis said, “Also when you do that, download as much navigational information from public networks as you can find, T-mek, if you don’t mind.”

  Steo gave Hawking some instructions.

  Steo and Glaikis walked down the docking tunnel into Kurzia Station. He hadn’t served with her before, but they had met. Having a knight-mercenary with him made him feel safer. She was already giving valuable advice on running the ship, and he would never find a better navigator. She was an asset on board the ship and off, as far as he was concerned. He looked forward to a long relationship.

  When they entered the station proper, they met packed crowds. People of all species mingled, though everyone wore a grim expression. No one lingered in a free station. Few people lived there permanently. The metal walls and dangerous inhabitants drove civil people away.

  The primary purpose of a free station was business. There were the usual armorers, gunsmiths and stimulant vendors common in the Percaic arm. They passed an algae merchant, whose stall emitted a pleasant smell. Algae were used to produce oxygen aboard ships, and the fresh air was a welcome change to the stale atmosphere of the station. They walked through the arcade section, which had all sorts of holographic entertainment. Glaikis knew not to look in the windows. Steo looked and blanched at what he saw. He turned away, sickened by what some people called fun.

  Glaikis maintained a severe look, an uninviting glare and firm jaw that kept people away. She muscled through the crowd when necessary. As short as she was, they couldn’t see her coming anyway, so she was used to it.

  “I never asked,” Steo said to her. “Do you have any cyber-enhancements?”

  “A few,” she replied over the surrounding noise. “Communicator, wallet, stimulant injector, false toenail, the usual.”

  “False toenail?” He tried to sound amused, though it sounded weird to him.

  “It’s my big toe. It got crushed by a heavy crate, a long time ago, so when I had it regrown the med-techs regrew it around a metal capsule. The lid is the toenail.”

  Steo didn’t grasp the purpose and his expression showed it.

  “You can store tiny objects in it,” she said. “Usually a suicide pill or an electronic tracker. When you’re out on patrol, those are things a mercenary might find useful.”

  “Oh, ok. Is that all?” Steo asked.

  Glaikis didn’t mind being open with him, but she wasn’t sure how much truth he could handle. In her experience, trust was earned. “Well, if you must know, no. Since I was born on a heavy world at high altitude, I’m denser and my blood can carry more oxygen. Staying in your light gravity and weak air for long periods, I would suffer bone atrophy and shallow lung capacity. So I have a biogenetic implant that synthesizes drugs in tiny amounts and releases them when I sleep. They build bone mass and thicken my blood. That’s about it.”

  She had another biological modification that she chose not to reveal at this time. It was a bundle of nerve fibers at the base of the brain, a weakness she wasn’t ready to share with non-mercenaries.

  The two made thei
r way through packed crowds, down constricted corridors and through bulkheads. They were aided by Slank’s instructions.

  The strangest thing inside amalgamated stations was the changes in gravity. Not only was it higher and lower in different areas, but the direction changed. When a module was added or a ship permanently attached, it wasn’t oriented to match any standard. Signs over doors advised travelers of the direction of gravity. Steo and Glaikis had to use handholds through a few bulkheads to avoid falling.

  There were always open markets in free stations because everything was imported. The benefits of being far from asteroids and planets were offset by the absence of food, water and energy. There were ghost stations scattered across the galaxy. The original occupants left when they ran out of resources, though occasionally stations were found with frozen corpses. Few ghost stations were ever reoccupied. The cost was tremendous and empty planets were plentiful.

  They found their way to a market of stalls, where it seemed like chaos reigned. Besides the noise and sweaty bodies, there seemed to be a dispute brewing. Crews of knight-mercenaries were surrounding a small group of pirates. Whatever instincts she had, Slank knew her business and her instructions. She pushed around the mob.

  Steo found a big, rust-orange door that led to a hallway. Even though it smelled stale, he turned into it. It was quiet here, except for a skittering sound from ahead. Glaikis looked a bit nervous behind him. Privately she wondered about this skinny, short young man’s strange self-confidence. To her it bordered on foolhardy.

  Steo walked down the hallway, stepped through a doorway at the end and entered a big room. The sounds from the market were gone. Only a faint clicking sound could be heard.

  When Glaikis followed, she caught her breath and froze. Like the rest of Kurzia Station the tall, airy room was poorly lit, but they could see the walls were covered in shelves. Sitting on the shelves, by the hundreds, were dead human babies. Their glassy eyes stared ahead in mute horror.

  A hunched creature with brassy armor scuttled in. The insectoid’s back legs were short and stumpy, and its front legs barely touched the ground. Its head was triangular, with two large, smooth eyes. The rest of its face was covered in soft fur.

  It stood on its fat hind legs and said, “Hi!”

  Glaikis was noticeably shaking now. She had a pistol but resisted drawing it. She wasn’t entirely sure what Steo had gotten her into.

  It was a foaz, an eight-foot tall insect with armor so dense it could deflect bullets and so shiny it could reflect lasers.

  Steo said, “Greetings?” His posture was relaxed.

  “Glish isn’t my best language. Is that a question?” the foaz asked.

  “Ahem, greetings,” Steo said. “A friend of mine named Slank sent me.”

  “Oh, I remember Slank!” The tall alien seemed to pat its hands together.

  “What is this?” Glaikis said, dreading the answer.

  “How do you like my doll collection? I made them myself. Human babies are so adorable. I hope you could give me pointers. The dimensions are sometimes wrong. I’m told some look, how do you say, cross-eyed.”

  “These … are … dolls?” Glaikis asked. Now she saw the glassy eyes and stiff limbs. The hair was too perfect; they must have been wigs.

  “Yes. Say, is she all right?” the foaz asked Steo.

  “Um, yes. My name is Steo. This is Glaikis.”

  “Extraplanetary life forms have difficulty with my name. It’s Gkn-tgn. You can call me Curio.”

  Curio touched a pad on his wrist and slabs of plastic floated out of the walls. Steo and Glaikis accepted the seats. Curio settled back on his haunches facing them.

  Neither of the humans knew much about the insectoid race the foaz (pronounced “pho-ahz”). They were otherwise known as “kites” or “shells”. They called other species extraplanetary life forms, even when not on the foaz home world. Only foaz were allowed to travel there. They were intensely protective of their home system. They had removed technology from their home world and returned it to a mostly undeveloped space. Holovids of their home world were popular entertainment, because the world was so brightly colored.

  “Drink?” Curio asked.

  Small robots floated through the door. Some had footstools, and one had a tray of drinks. Curio made a clicking noise when he got his drink.

  “Filabee nectar wine, quite rare!” he said.

  Seeing the humans hesitantly take the clear flutes with golden liquid, Curio said, “It’s a myth that insectoids and humanoids eat different things. Try the wine, you’ll like it!”

  They both sipped and found it tasty. Curio extended a long, tube-like tongue into his flute and drank. Glaikis’s back was still rigid and she eyed the doll collection. She had to admit, they were excellent replications.

  “Approachable, fruity, but not too sweet. Hard to come by, this,” Curio said as he tapped his flute. “Though I should warn you, we’re immune to alcohol and drugs unlike extraplanetary life forms.”

  One of Curio’s small floating robots moved over and combed Glaikis’s hair. She leaned away from it.

  “I don’t think they like that,” Curio said to the robot, making it stop. “Down to business, Mr. Steorathan Liet.”

  Steo wondered how many people in the galaxy, even this far out, knew his name. He sized up the big alien. The way Curio spoke revealed he knew a lot.

  Curio continued. “I have information on the Vadyanika, a science vessel that briefly stopped here. A full and complete scan including dimensions, identifying characteristics, electromagnetic and thermal signatures. Lists of what they loaded, and most importantly, where they went. Precise coordinates with safe approach vectors.”

  “Name a price then, Curio,” Steo said.

  Negotiations kicked off in a hurry. Curio wanted some credits along with water and plants. Steo didn’t have water to spare. The Eye of Orion’s only plant life was a small chamber of moss-mats that added oxygen to the internal air. Curio and Steo politely haggled.

  Glaikis tried to pay attention but was distracted by the robots constantly offering her things to eat or ways to relax.

  She was brought back to the conversation when Steo drew a gun.

  With that, the deal was done. Steo traded Curio a Morg pistol with a transparent barrel, plus some credits. In exchange Steo got the password to log into an encrypted computer system. Soon they would have everything they needed to chase down the Vadyanika and steal the superweapon being developed there.

  “Now about my dolls,” Curio said. He scuttled a little closer to Glaikis and waved his limbs. She didn’t understand what he was on about. “Please, come and see my collection. You are a female extraplanetary life form, I believe. You should be a good judge of my workmanship.”

  She stood and he herded her over to a shelf. On closer inspection, the figures were clearly toys. It unnerved her a little that an insectoid alien made replicas of human babies. The dimensions were sometimes off, which was unsettling. Arms slightly too long made them look ape-like. Heads slightly too small made them look deformed.

  “The limbs of our young have different proportions to the body than adults,” Glaikis said. “And they should have more fat. It’s called baby fat.”

  “Oh yes, fat! I’ve heard of it before. Our species doesn’t store energy in unproductive layers. Thank you. I’ll review the proper files on limb length. Thank you. This is so delightful.” He wiggled his forearms in what might have been excitement.

  Glaikis continued pointing out minor inconsistencies to the giant armored alien. She had no children of her own, but could tell Curio where he went wrong as well as anybody.

  She asked him, “Why do you do this? This hobby I mean?”

  “That’s a bit of a long story. Our ancestors conquered our world thousands of years ago. We foaz almost destroyed our home. The planet was nearly covered with cities and metal. As a species, we felt lost. We developed the technology to live elsewhere in our solar system. Few of us wanted to lea
ve our home world. Then we reverse-engineered our world.”

  “Reverse-engineered?” Steo said, thinking of his experience with software applications.

  “By that I mean we removed the cities and technology from our home world, turning it back to its natural state. Extraplanetary life forms can’t visit there, but you can watch the vids and experience its beauty.”

  “Why can’t we visit?” Steo said.

  “Because you could not find it. We have never revealed its coordinates. We are custodians of our world – its plants, its animals and our people. Now, we foaz have a natural protective reaction to small creatures, particularly humanoid young. The innocence of their two big eyes draws that protectiveness out, as well as their defenseless nature,” Curio explained. “I mean no offense. You are not pets to us. And we found that humanoid babies have a … fearful reaction to us. It’s sad, really. We mean you no harm. We are a peaceful people.”

  “No offense taken,” Glaikis said. She was starting to warm to this giant insect. The foaz were truly alien to her, but no matter how cold they were, she thought they had a certain spiritual warmth. Glaikis decided to buy one of the foaz holovids, to see what it was like. She was sure it was designed to provide no clue to the planet’s location, which made it even more mysterious to her.

  “We foaz nurture our world. It is the center of our philosophy and what you would call religion. The foaz are few in number, at least in comparison to humans. Scarcely any have left our solar system, but those of us who do, do so for the benefit of the foaz. I trade, for example.”

  Thinking back over her reactions, Glaikis said, “I hope you didn’t take my criticisms of your work the wrong way. I was just advising.”

  “Oh no, no, I appreciate it! You can understand that I have to maintain a certain strangeness here on Kurzia Station. I can’t go about asking people what the proper length of babies’ fingernails should be,” Curio said.

  “No, I guess not. That would not be received well,” Glaikis said.