Star Marque Rising

by Shami Stovall

  “What's with all that?” I asked, motioning to my own neck and chest. “Are those holes? Are you ill?”

  Ontwenty and Endellion shared a laugh. I waited, wondering if they would answer, but I knew Sawyer could always tell me if I remembered to ask when I got back to the company town.

  “Members of Homo superior were designed,” Ontwenty said with a smile. “Most human flaws were removed—when possible—while maintaining an overall humanoid appearance. For example, it's a design flaw that Homo sapiens can die when eating. A single piece of food lodged in the windpipe could be your undoing. Homo superior doesn't share its esophagus with its trachea. As a matter of fact, Homo superior breathes more oxygen than Homo sapiens, and our blood is richer for it.” She motioned to the tiny holes.

  “You breathe from them?” I asked.

  “Yes. They also sense much of the atmosphere, and the airways are lined with filters that prevent most deadly gases from taking effect.”

  “What if someone strangled you?”

  Endellion shot me a stern glare—like I should have shut the fuck up—but Ontwenty chuckled.

  She turned her head and pulled back her white hair enough for me to see the backside of her ears. More breathing holes in a crescent line, like they were decoration.

  “Homo superior have reworked vein structures, and our spines have been modified to protect two additional arteries. With plenty of blood and oxygen, strangulation is a near-impossibility.”

  “Is that so?”

  “These additional airways also allow for Homo superior to make use of our ampullae of Lorenzini.”

  What? It took me a second to mull over the words. “What the fuck is an ampullae of Lorenzini?” I asked, knowing I was being uncouth, but there was no easy way to ask without showcasing my ignorance.

  Ontwenty didn't seem to mind—she actually seemed prepared for the reaction, like she'd assumed I wouldn't know even before she said it. “The ampullae of Lorenzini is an organ found in some fish. It's an electroreceptor that senses the flow of electricity, even weak signals produced by muscle movement. Sharks use this organ when hunting their prey to great effect. Homo superior uses it to better craft technology and regulate power flow. Our electronics are unrivaled, and it's due, in part, to being able to see these electrical currents with ease.”

  That must have been a superhuman's “sixth sense” that everyone always spoke about. Everything clicked into place. I glanced over at Endellion and narrowed my eyes. She had always been able to sense things around her. Things outside of her vision. People on the other side of a door.

  Endellion matched my gaze and nodded. “I have a cybernetic ampullae of Lorenzini. But we didn't come here to get a lecture from the minister.” Endellion returned her attention to the superhuman. “I was wondering if I could use your medical facility in Nogiwa. I've arranged to meet a doctor there.”

  “My medical facility?” Ontwenty asked.

  “The one with genetic-defect research, yes.”

  Ontwenty mulled over the request before nodding. “You've already been so helpful in my research, I don't see why not. Let me make sure everything goes smoothly—I'll send a note right away.” She got off her lounge and exited the room in a few quick strides.

  Once Endellion and I were alone, I stared out the window. We were eight stories up, and the view took my breath away. Sawyer had said humans raised planetside had a fear of heights, which was an interesting contrast to humans raised in space, fearing the sky. One feared what was below, the other feared what was above.

  Sawyer must have been right because the distance to the planet's surface didn't faze me. It was all so captivating.

  “You've already done things for Ontwenty?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  Endellion leaned back in her chair. “I gave her blood samples from the genetically-defective criminals I've apprehended over the past seven years.”

  “Why?”

  “She wanted defect samples from all over the Vectin Quadrant, and this way she didn't have to pay.”

  “She didn't want to pay the defects, you mean.”

  “Them, or the couriers, or the processing fees, or the taxes, or the licenses, or the containment costs. It may be minor, but now she has a resource her competitors don't.”

  I shifted in my seat and gave Endellion a half-smile. “You're not supposed to be selling that kind of stuff, I take it.”

  She returned my reserved smile. “I didn't sell it.”

  “But you got favors.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And, for some reason, you dug up my mother's information.”

  The follow-up left Endellion quiet. Her expression changed to something neutral—almost melancholy—but she kept her gaze fixed on mine. “And you think I plan to do something nefarious with it?” she asked.

  “I think you plan to do something with it.”

  “Perhaps it was for your sole benefit.”

  “You're too cunning for altruism.”

  Endellion chuckled, but the melancholy remained. “Clevon, don't disappoint me. Not now.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “Whenever individuals start to learn of my tenacity, they get anxious. Suspicious. Fearful. It's hard to find someone whom I can trust with my plans. Whom I can trust to be myself with. I figured with your skills and history, you wouldn't be so unnerved by my power plays and methods.”

  Learned of her tenacity, huh? That was one way to put it.

  “I'm not afraid of you,” I stated, a cold edge to my voice. “But I don't want lies, either. Tell me, straight up—why did you inquire about my family?”

  “To show you my influence can be to your benefit. And because I want to ingratiate myself with you.”

  My smile returned. “I'm already your starfighter.”

  “I told you,” Endellion said as she crossed her legs and leaned back. “It's hard to find individuals who aren't wary of me. You're one of the few whom I believe when you say you're not afraid. I want your company.”

  “Heh.” I turned away and stared out the window. The gleam reflected off the spectacular architecture, causing me to squint. “I don't mind your secrets and games. Just don't use them on me, and we'll be fine.”

  “Is that so?”

  Minister Ontwenty walked back into the room, the flow of her loose gown catching my attention over the scenery. She was alluring in every way, even if her aesthetics were something I had never considered. I wondered what it would be like to roll between the sheets with a superhuman. Were they really better at everything? It would have been fun to conduct some research.

  “It's done,” Ontwenty said. “Schedule an appointment with a doctor, if you need to.”

  “Thank you,” Endellion said.

  I scooted forward in my chair. “Hey, are there any places with modified animals around here?”

  Ontwenty nodded. “We have museums, a safari park, and a menagerie.”

  “If we're handing out passes to places, can I get one to that menagerie?”

  “Of course. I love to treat station humans to the wonders of Vectin-14.”

  * * *

  I stepped off the mag-lev train and onto the station platform. The damn magnetic, levitating vehicle could reach some impressive land speeds. I knew the Star Marque traveled faster than light once it reached its top acceleration, but it wasn't the same as watching scenery zip by the windows. Everything felt fast.

  Endellion, dressed in her casual cargo pants and tank top, walked straight from the station and onto the footpath. I followed at her side, taking in the sights. Every part of Vectin-14 seemed to have been designed long before construction. The roads were set in grid patterns, the trains were perfectly spaced for maximum efficiency between stations, and the trees were evenly spread along the walkways.

  We passed through a security gate, and I eyed the mounted plasma guns and the modified guards. Endellion didn't give them the time of day. Our destination sat in the center of the enclo
sed compound, and she headed right for it.

  The indigo sky reflected off the windows of Ontwenty's medical facility. Nogiwa Med-Fac 284—R&D was etched into the metal beside the front door, and I wondered just how many of these research facilities must have existed. Shuttle ships landed on the roof, four stories into the sky, unloading supplies by the crate.

  To my surprise, Lysander, Yuan, Mara, Quinn, and Sawyer all stood outside the facility, waiting on the walkway to the front door. Everyone but Sawyer sported an enviro-suit, helmets down, and each carried a plasma rifle. I was in the same get-up, but I hadn't thought they would be there.

  Endellion and I reached the group, and she acknowledged them with a curt nod.

  “What're you doing here?” I asked Lysander.

  He narrowed his eyes. “In case you forgot, I am Endellion's Subcommander of Ground Forces. The real question is: why are you here?”

  “Oh, this is awkward. I thought you already knew, but… I'm the superior marksman and fighter.”

  Mara stifled a laugh.

  “I have business here,” Endellion said, ignoring our conversation. “And I want you all to stand guard while I'm with the doctor.”

  I turned to her. “And?”

  “And while I'm in the middle of an operation, I don't want anything to happen.”

  “Operation? You never said anything about an operation.”

  Endellion smoothed her casual attire. “Occasionally, recalibration of cybernetic implants is required. In addition, I need another implant inserted into my spinal column, into the C6 and C7 spinal segment. It's a delicate procedure, one I would only trust to be done at a facility such as this.”

  I glanced around. The entire compound had its own security, and the place had a tranquil aura. No loud noises. No bustling crowds. It wasn't an environment I was familiar with. On Capital Station, I knew what the thugs looked like. Was Endellion worried one of the guards would attack her? One of the resident researchers?

  Endellion led the others into the medical facility, and I followed. Advik's plea rung in my ears. She didn't want Endellion to die, and more and more, I understood why. Everyone on the Star Marque had shaped their lives around Endellion's promise. They planned to live planetside—that was the end goal, the dream—and nobody else on the ship had the drive to make it happen.

  A piece of me wondered if I could ever rival Endellion's scheming. Maybe I would never need to find out, but I hated to come in second.

  Once inside, I was greeted with windowless halls and plain gray walls. The building had all the charm of a space station, and already I yearned for the outside. Each door we passed through, Endellion scanned the identification chip buried in her arm. A few guards gave her questioning glances, but they didn't speak to her.

  We rode the elevator up to the fourth floor.

  “Lysander, take Yuan, Mara, and Quinn to secure the floor,” Endellion said. “Clevon and Sawyer, you're with me.”

  The others did as they were commanded.

  “Are we meeting our doctor?” I asked.

  Endellion nodded. “That's right.”

  Heh. That would be awkward. “Is there something I should do?”

  “You're my bodyguard. All I need you to do is stand watch.”

  I traveled with Endellion to a room labeled, Operations 4/4. She opened the door, and we stepped into a wonderland of technology and medicine. A capsule bed was mounted to the back wall, the cover glass and a few robotic tools were built into the headboard and footboard. The counters around the room displayed various types of medication, each set separated by a computer terminal. A single table held two cybernetic implants, each on a stand to keep them from touching the cold, metal surface.

  It took me a second to notice the man by the capsule bed. He calibrated the robotic tools, adjusting them with a touchscreen readout. Then he turned around, scowling.

  Everything about the man screamed “stiff” and “serious.” He stood straight, had a quick gait, and his black hair was slicked back and held in place with enough product to keep it looking wet.

  I assumed he was a nurse. So, where was Dr. Rhodes?

  “You must be Commodore Voight,” the man said. “I'm Dr. Clay. You requested I meet you for an evaluation?”

  Endellion walked up to the man and returned the nod. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

  Doctor? Him? But I'd thought…

  Dr. Clay crossed his arms. “I'm sorry to say, but I won't be with this facility much longer. I would recommend you wait until another doctor can see you. That way, when you return, you'll be able to meet with the same team members.”

  “Don't worry,” Endellion said with a smile. “I know your work contract was denied renewal.”

  The statement left the doctor speechless. He stared for a moment, and then took a deep breath. “I wasn't aware private professional information was shared so flippantly.”

  “I assure you, it isn't. I just so happen to know a great many researchers, including Ontwenty herself. They talk, you see.”

  Dr. Clay glared. “Of course they do.” He turned on his heel and motioned to the capsule bed. “This rejuv-cell will run a complete scan of your body, mapping out bones, muscles, blood flow, cybernetic implants, organ structure, and key markers in your DNA. Once I have the scan, we can discuss your options from there.”

  He tapped the capsule's computer terminal, and the glass lid opened. Endellion stepped up to the side of the machine and ran her fingers along the edge.

  “Assuming you find nothing out of place,” Endellion said, “I intend to go through with a recalibration and insertion of the regulator into the spine.”

  “I think it best you have another doctor perform the surgery. Like I said, I won't be here much longer.”

  “And you want more time to apply to other facilities and laboratories,” Endellion said. Not as a question, but as a statement.

  By the look on Dr. Clay's face, she was right.

  But why were we talking to him? Why had Endellion asked me to speak with Dr. Rhodes?

  “You must know the other facilities won't take you,” Endellion continued. “Not here on Vectin-14. At least, not any facility you would consider worthy.”

  “I have work to do,” Dr. Clay said through clenched teeth. “Perhaps you should be on your way, rather than offering me insults.”

  “Hear me out, Dr. Clay. I think what's happened to you is a crime.”

  “And what do you know of it?”

  “I know the entire Rhodes family is clan-like and obsessed with their own successes, never once reaching out to help mankind. They're infantile for turning away talent, especially for something as petty as the cancellation of an engagement. Even if you and Dr. Rhodes are no longer on good terms, they shouldn't have attempted to exclude you from much-needed research.”

  I caught my breath.

  Endellion never wanted Dr. Rhodes. She'd wanted Dr. Rhodes's fiancé.

  It changed everything I'd thought was happening back on Midway Station. My insistence that Dr. Rhodes leave her significant other haunted me for a prolonged moment as Dr. Clay digested Endellion's words.

  “You know an awful lot,” Dr. Clay said, slow and careful.

  “Like I said, I'm good friends with Ontwenty herself.”

  Dr. Clay laughed, but he kept his stiff posture. “I see all those rumors about you are true. You really do keep high company. Now the question is: should I be worried or elated? Are you telling me all this because you can get me a position straight through Ontwenty?”

  “I have a better deal for you.”

  “Oh?”

  Endellion smiled, so sure of herself, like she was cornering the man in a trap he didn't even know he was in. “How about you join me on the Star Marque as the medical officer my crew so desperately needs?”

  Dr. Clay laughed even harder, and then turned away. “On an enforcer ship? That's worse than working in a tiny, commercial lab. At least then I would still be in the communit
y.”

  “Is that really what you want? Seeing your old associates at social gatherings and explaining your situation to them? How you've failed to achieve anything, like so many of them predicted? I've already heard some of the rumors. You were nothing without Dr. Rhodes—or so they'll say.”

  Dr. Clay whipped around. He waited a minute, taking calming breaths, before he said, “An enforcer ship has nothing for me.”

  “Sawyer,” Endellion said with a motion of her hand. “Show the doctor all the research Ontwenty has given us.”

  Sawyer shuffled forward and held up her left arm, her PAD on display. The screen showed research, all right. Research stolen from Ontwenty's cargo ship. The same research Endellion had stolen herself.

  I couldn't believe Endellion was getting away with this. She'd painted her relationship with Ontwenty as something more than it was. And Dr. Clay stared at the information with rapt interest, his eyes scanning the lines of text and examining each diagram. He ate it up.

  I had to hold back a laugh. Endellion lied like a pro. No hesitation. No qualms. Damn, if I didn't know what was going on, I wouldn't have even suspected.

  “Ontwenty gave this to you?” Dr. Clay asked. “An enforcer captain?”

  “Future governor,” Endellion corrected. “Ontwenty is helping me achieve greatness. And, once I'm appointed, everyone in my crew will be rewarded with a parcel of planetside property. While others intend to live on theirs, I'm sure a savvy individual could sell their allotment and make enough credits to publish their own research and start their own facility.” Endellion let that sit before adding, “Can you imagine the look on your associates' faces if you came back from this to a man in charge of his own work and future?”

  Holy shit. She was giving him a pitch, like she'd given me a pitch back on the ship. “Work on the Star Marque, and I'll make all your dreams come true.” It might as well have been her fucking slogan.

  “That's how much you need a doctor for your crew?” Dr. Clay asked, his eyebrows knit tight together.

  Sawyer pulled her PAD away, and Dr. Clay almost reached out to hold her arm, but he stopped halfway.

  “Maintaining my cybernetic enhancements is important to my success,” Endellion said. Then she gave me a sideways glance before adding, “And a handful of my crew members are defects. I've seen your articles and research. With Ontwenty's notes, I'm sure you could help them immensely.”