Sonata in Orionis (Earth Song Cycle Book 2)

by Mark Wandrey

  “Not much forest on this rock,” Cherise noted, “I think they like it to look pristine.”

  Minu steered the craft nimbly through the low rolling hills around the industrial park, then out over the endless plains. They saw small villages and the wide avenues connecting them. The Beezer didn’t enjoy flying very much. They preferred large slow-moving transports with tracks or huge wheels that could navigate equally well on land, road, or water. There were no deep oceans on Serengeti, just numerous shallow lakes and seas.

  Before long, the capital city, with dense concentration of tall buildings, appeared in the distance. It was as if the Beezer grudgingly allowed this intrusion on their pristine grasslands for the sake of dealing with outsiders. In the center of the city was the tallest building on the planet. It was a sight common to nearly every inhabited world in the galaxy, a tall spire twisted like a drill bit, dotted with landing platforms resembling upturned flower petals. It thrust a kilometer and a half into the sky and was visible from a hundred kilometers away. Inside were hundreds of portals. Bellatrix didn’t rate one of the magnificent spires. Not yet, anyway.

  They passed over the edge of the city and joined the dense air traffic. Small personal fliers resembling Broomsticks mingled with hundred-meter long bulk liquid carriers. Minu gritted her teeth and looked for openings. Though the Beezer preferred to keep their hooves on the ground, they didn’t spurn air traffic entirely. Besides, the city was a temporary home to more than a million off-worlders, and many of them had as strong a dislike of ground transport as the Beezer had of air transport.

  “You’re nuts,” Cherise hissed as they just missed a hulking barge full of refuse.

  “It hones my skills,” Minu said. “Besides, what can possibly—Ah!” She screamed as another flier cut in front of her. She wrenched the controls as hard as she could. The impellers screamed, and she turned the transport upside down to avoid the other craft. They caught a quick glimpse of a surprised T’Chillen, resplendent in its brilliant body paint, shaking a tentacle and bearing fangs at them as they rocketed over. Minu finished the roll and set them back on course. “Don’t you think he was surprised?” Minu said with a slight shake in her voice.

  “He was surprised?” Cherise demanded. “I think I soiled myself!”

  “Terrific,” Minu replied. “At least we won’t have to smell snake ass anymore.” Cherise gestured rudely and laughed, relieving the tension.

  The Portal Spire loomed just ahead. Minu relinquished control of her craft to the traffic computers and requested a landing spot. The transport adjusted course and began a precipitous, gut-wrenching climb.

  “Damn it!” Cherise cried. “And I thought you were bad!”

  “Looks like we get a good view today.” They’d spent three days on low-level landing pads, waiting for the hermit-like warehouse master to deliver the promised goods. There was almost no pollution in the city, but the noise was unrelenting. Even through the dualloy walls of the transport, the city rumbled like a constant low-frequency earthquake. This time, the computer whisked them three quarters of the way up the spire before landing the craft gracefully on one of the gossamer pylons. Once down, the engines shut off, and Minu and Cherise popped the doors to enjoy the fresh air.

  “I can’t smell the shaggy beasts up here,” Cherise rejoiced. Minu got out and walked to the very edge of the landing pad, a couple of inches away from a thousand-meter fall. “I do wish you wouldn’t do that…” Cherise moaned. The wind caught Minu’s shoulder-length hair, blowing it back in waves, and Serengeti’s afternoon sun accented the red highlights. Cherise smiled at Minu’s daredevil attitude; her lack of fear and graceful strength were inspiring.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” she reminded her friend.

  “I know. I just don’t trust hover-fields.”

  Minu looked at her and smiled. “Trust the technology,” she said, and with arms outstretched, she fell backwards. Cherise screamed as Minu went over the edge. Then with infinite gentleness, an invisible force caught her and nudged her back onto the platform, setting her down half a meter from the edge in case she ‘accidentally’ fell again.

  “Damn you!” Cherise shouted and punched the dashboard. She grimaced and massaged her knuckles.

  Minu laughed and shook her head when she saw her friend’s hurt. “Cherise, don’t be that way. I was just trying—”

  “To get yourself killed?”

  “No. I was trying to show you how safe this technology is. Would you trust a steel bridge on Bellatrix?”

  “Of course I would. It’s strong, and we’ve been using them forever.”

  “These hover-fields were around before humans crawled out of the cave, and the Concordia use them for everything from cargo elevators to playground safety nets.” Cherise looked dubious. “All right, I won’t mess around like that anymore.”

  “You’d better not. What if a circuit blew or something?”

  “There are probably a dozen backups.”

  “A dozen possible things that could go wrong,” Cherise mumbled and pouted.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Minu said and climbed back into the transport. “So, what’s for dinner?”

  “Leftovers, same as usual,” Cherise laughed. One of the things Minu liked about her friend was that she didn’t hold grudges. They dug into their dwindling supplies.

  “Some more sparring later?” Minu asked as they munched stale mutton sandwiches.

  “Sure.”

  “Going to be a nice afternoon.” Outside, the Beezer city hummed and churned.

  * * *

  “I do not understand why they are so eager for this shipment,” Kl’kl’taan’s translator said in English. It was a little difficult to understand over the bellowing huffs and chuffs of the simultaneously-spoken Beezer language.

  “I do not question our Concordian masters in these matters,” Minu replied, then braced herself as her translator began bellowing in Beezer. The alien looked down at the computer tablet and grumbled. Minu thought that might be the equivalent of a human scratching his head in confusion.

  “But we do not have the goods here,” it complained. Trying to assign sex to the Beezer was a waste of time. There were males and females, but Minu had no idea how to tell them apart. For all any of them knew, only the males went out in public. Or maybe the females conducted business.

  “What do you mean, you don’t have the goods?”

  “You must understand, we hold the goods the Tog send to us.”

  “That much I know. What I don’t understand is why this consignment isn’t here.”

  “As I say, we store a great many things for the Tog, and sometimes they never come for them.” The Beezer lacked facial expressions. This one had several piercings through his massive nostril, each one filled with an ornate golden ring. The rings twitched as it searched for words. Minu got the feeling it was either embarrassed or afraid of her.

  “You sold it, didn’t you?” Cherise asked.

  The Beezer stomped one hoofed foot and dragged it across the dualloy floor, creating a shower of sparks. The act startled Minu, but the downcast look of Kl’kl’taan said it was an act of nervousness or resignation. “You have found me in a difficult place to graze.”

  “What can I do?” Minu asked and spread her hands. “We must report this to the Tog who sent us to retrieve the goods. Hse will surely want an explanation.” More sparks flew from the Beezer’s hooves, and he refused to meet her gaze, which was most unusual. “Maybe we can tell them we encountered difficulties?”

  The Beezer looked up, its eyes wide and startled. “You would do this for me, a Beezer?”

  “Are we not both in the service of the Tog?” It nodded its head, which was not an easy thing for a being without a neck. “They can be challenging and demanding masters.”

  “You are a young species, new to the Concordia, I could tell you stories—” suddenly he stopped and looked around nervously. “But now is not the time.”

  Stories? Minu
wondered. Maybe later. “We will explain that we were unable to provide a suitable transport to return the merchandise. That should give you several weeks to make arrangements.”

  “But how am I to cover up their permanent disappearance?”

  “That is not our concern.” The Beezer chuffed and nodded.

  “It’s a shame to fly home empty-handed,” Cherise said, casually glancing at the inventory computer dutifully scrolling the contents of the massive warehouses.

  “There are no other goods pending shipment to the Tog,” Kl’kl’taan said.

  Minu glanced at Cherise, who gave her a conspiratorial wink. Minu understood. “No shipments? Are you sure there isn’t something you forgot to manifest? Maybe a shipment like the one you ‘misplaced’? How about something we’d find useful, or that another species might find useful. It’s hard to imagine how much stuff is lying around a place this big.” As Minu talked, Kl’kl’taan went from confused, to curious, to uncomfortable. Minu knew he’d catch on eventually. It wasn’t like a payoff was new to the disreputable warehouse master. After all, he’d sold the goods they were there for.

  “There might be a few things here that need shipping,” he said, his translator conveying a cool tone of dissatisfaction. “How large would the shipment need to be?”

  “No more than a couple of tons.” Minu and Cherise grinned. The dejected Beezer tapped the massive keys of a nearby computer. It flashed and displayed an inventory, conveniently written in English. Minu watched it scroll for a time, unimpressed with what she saw. She sighed, making her translator sound like it was leaking steam. Kl’kl’taan made a sound like crunching gravel and worked the computer again. A wide variety of more desirable selections appeared. Suddenly, Cherise jabbed Minu with an elbow and mouthed ‘number eighty-two.’

  “I see it,” she whispered back. Then she spoke loud enough for the translator to catch her words. “Item number eighty-two is of interest,” she said.

  “You have excellent taste,” Kl’kl’taan said and slumped onto a couch specifically designed for his incredible bulk. It creaked in protest, and he moaned in resignation.

  The transport lifted smoothly off the loading dock, utility robots scuttling out of the way as the hatch closed. The door almost caught one robot, and would have, if not for its mechanical reflexes. The robot reproachfully watched the transport fly away.

  “I hate those robots,” Cherise said, watching the ground fall away. “Why do the Beezer use them?”

  “The cockroach bots?” Minu asked. Cherise nodded. “Different tastes, I guess. We like the crabs and, occasionally, the centipedes. It’s all we can afford.”

  “Be nice if we could get some turtles. Those are really good bots.”

  “Half the higher-order species use them for combat. They’re way out of our price range.”

  “We have some dragonflies,” Cherise reminded her.

  “Yeah. My dad said we paid an arm and a leg for them. I’ve never seen one, but they’re supposed to be the best recon tool there is.”

  “I wonder why so many of the Concordian bots are bugs?”

  “Three out of five designs,” Minu agreed. “I don’t know.” Then a smile slipped across her face as she thought about their cargo.

  “What are we going to do with this thing?” Cherise asked and gestured at the cargo hold.

  “I have no idea,” Minu admitted, “but I’m sure something will come to mind.”

  Minu dropped the transport into Serengeti’s traffic pattern. Since they were now several tons heavier, she willingly relinquished control to the traffic computer as they flew toward the Portal Spire. This time, they weren’t heading for a landing pad. They orbited the spire while Minu worked on the computer.

  She entered their destination, priority, Tog-supplied access code, and cargo. The bill of lading provided by Kl’kl’taan was electronic and a complete fabrication. Minu transmitted it with the other data and crossed her fingers. If the Beezer had played them dirty, she’d have a lot of explaining to do. The computer quickly displayed the reply from the Portal Spire control center.

  “Please continue to orbit while you are cleared through customs.”

  “Is that good?” Cherise asked.

  “I wish I knew. This is my first time smuggling.”

  They flew slowly around the tower and waited. Eventually, they spied a tiny squadron of dragonfly robots swooping toward them. Flying in careful formation, the robots buzzed along the transport’s hull from rear to front, scanning them. Their job completed, they shot away to their next task, and the computer came to life again.

  “You are cleared through customs. Portal Number Three is your departure point, and you are eleventh in line. Please do not engage manual controls. Deviating from procedure will cause you to sacrifice your queue position and may cause further customs delays. Thank you for visiting Serengeti.”

  “Excellent,” Minu clapped. Who knew being a smuggler would be that easy? They orbited the tower twice, then it was their turn. The computer told them to prepare for portal travel and altered their course. Smoothly and easily, they glided toward the shimmering portal and lined up with computer-controlled precision. The transport was large, leaving only a few centimeters of space on each side. Minu couldn’t imagine doing it manually. As they approached, both girls unconsciously tensed. It always felt like they were going to crash into the pearly portal.

  The subdued afternoon lighting of Serengeti gave way to blazing whiteness. It was midday on Bellatrix, as the transport slid through the portal and landed gently on the ground. Steven’s Pass’s business buildings surrounded it, and it was impossible to come through without the proper code. The Chosen kept it for their exclusive use.

  “Welcome back, Chosen,” a human voice said over the radio.

  “We need to unload our cargo,” she told the controller, a civilian employee, working on a handheld tablet. “Make sure we have a lot of space, this is big.”

  “Yes, Chosen, I am opening warehouse eleven. Please follow the marker lights.” Strobes on poles began flashing, indicating the route. Minu took manual control and guided the transport over the road. After a few hundred meters, she flew through the cavernous doors of a mostly empty warehouse.

  “Why did you say it was big?” Cherise asked and glanced over her shoulder into the cargo area. The crates were fairly large, though not nearly as large as the transport was capable of holding.

  “I wanted him to send us out here, away from prying eyes. We need to figure out what to do with this thing.”

  “We’re going to get in trouble,” Cherise complained. As the transport landed and they got out, a trio of common crab-shaped robots standing on spindly legs awaited orders. They were big cargo-handling robots that nearly came up to the girls’ waists.

  “Unload this transport,” she ordered them. “Place the crates together in the back of the warehouse.” She held out the computer chip containing the Beezer bill of lading. One of the crabs took it, slid it into an interface slot in its side, then handed it back.

  The machine blinked a soft light, and the two girls stood aside as the robots scuttled inside to get the first crate.

  * * *

  An hour later, Minu and Cherise returned to their quarters in the central housing structure of Steven’s Pass. Minu dropped her duffel and flopped onto her springy bunk with a sigh. After five days in the transport, it was good to finally stretch out flat again. Cherise and Minu shared a room with two female Chosen, older women with many years of service. In a month of living there, they’d only seen their roommates a couple times. Minu was quickly realizing how much work there was for the few thousand Chosen currently serving. Now it made sense that Jovich had remained in service way past the age when many other Chosen retired.

  Four bunks with two beds each took up most of one wall of the eight-meter-long room. However, as there were only four female Chosen living in Steven’s Pass, they got to spread out a little. Minu knew there were twenty-seven Chosen women,
but she didn’t know where they were all stationed. She was more concerned with doing her job.

  Minu looked around the room; it felt like an auditorium compared to the transport cockpit. There were eight slide-out desks along another wall, some chairs, a tiny entertainment center, a door leading to a two-seater restroom, and a window with a relaxing view of the mountains. She tried to imagine eight men crammed into the space and shuddered. Having visited Pip one morning in the Cell, the boys’ nickname for the quarters he shared with Gregg, Aaron and five others, she didn’t have to guess how rowdy it got. With Chosen coming and going 23/7, there always seemed to be too many people doing too many things in too small a space.

  Pip was unsurprisingly fastidious and hated his living situation, so he spent as much of his free time as possible in the research labs. Aaron and Gregg kept each other company, so they had no real complaints.

  Cherise, who was sitting at a computer, spoke, “We missed a lot of class work.”

  Minu groaned. “Ugh, can’t we take a break?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Right,” Minu moaned, then stood up and stretched.

  Completion of basic training didn’t mean the end of school work for a Chosen. The six months of basic training covered what it was to be Chosen, the obligations and such. There was also some physical and mental conditioning. At the end, you took a grueling battery of tests, and they placed you in one of the five Chosen branches of service: Scout, Science, Logistics, Training or Command. No one was surprised that Pip ended up in Science, or that both Gregg and Aaron were tapped to be scouts. Cherise was taken by Logistics, to her stunned amazement. “I guess I had a high score in paper pushing,” she’d said glumly upon seeing the results. And Minu, along with only three others from their class, were taken for Command. All previous Firsts Among the Chosen came from the Command branch. The announcement sent a chill up her spine, especially since they took an extra couple of days to make up their minds. That was the second time a decision about her fate seemed to take an inordinate amount of deliberation, and Minu couldn’t help wondering why. Was her father’s legacy having some unexpected effect on her career?