by KT Belt
“They can’t really be policed, and they are too useful to be worth doing so,” Inertia answered her question.
“Kind of like how they don’t stop the Rogue Wolves. They employ them from time to time,” she cut in.
He gave a sharp nod. “Exactly.”
“Umm, different question… It might be a stupid one, but it’s been bothering me since I came here. Don’t people see you fly out of the volcano all the time? Don’t they get curious?”
“If anyone lived out here, they might, if the ship wasn’t cloaked,” he said. “The Lady doesn’t have much in the way of armament, but she does have some of the best stealth systems money can buy.”
“Okay,” Carmen said.
“Anyway,” Inertia continued, “our destination is a ship that goes by the roughly translated name Last Resort. She is currently deep in vellian space. Thankfully, Widget was able to get us an invitation.”
“We need an invitation?”
“No, but it does affect the greeting we’ll receive. We’ll probably be ignored, mostly.”
“What if we weren’t invited?”
Inertia glanced at her, smiled dryly, and tipped his head in her direction as he looked back at his console. “You’d probably need that sword sooner rather than later,” he said simply.
After a few seconds of quiet reflection, Carmen said, “I don’t like your world.”
Inertia nodded several times. His reaction seemed like she’d just told him water was wet. “All you need to do is follow my lead. We’ll have to figure it out as we go,” he said. There was a slight change in the tone of his voice. It sounded almost…comforting. She nodded slowly. “Ghosting now,” he said after pressing something on his console.
She looked at her own console. Her display was still set to external view and captured the breach of the lightspeed barrier in perfect detail. The first sensation, however, was being pressed hard enough into her seat that Carmen wondered if there would be a permanent indentation. She knew little about starships and had no idea that the ship’s main engine was belching fire for hundreds of miles in their wake. The inertial inhibitor eventually trimmed the force till she just felt a weight on her chest.
On her display screen, an ethereal light built on the edges. Then, all at once, it was gone—the light, the G forces, everything. Her display showed nothing but solid black. She did know enough about starships to know that was all normal, even if she didn’t know how any of it worked. They were still accelerating.
“Going fast,” Inertia announced after a couple minutes.
A second passed. He took a deep breath. Carmen noticed her display now showed a star field. She glanced at him.
“We’re here,” he said.
Carmen took a deep breath herself. “Now what?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Last Resort, this is incoming Corvette squawking 77535,” he said.
Carmen didn’t know how to control the view cameras. She wished she could have seen what the freighter looked like.
“To incoming Corvette, squawk code recognized. Invitation confirmed. Standby for tractor beam,” came the reply.
“Ready,” Inertia said in turn.
“Tractor beam engaged. Welcome. You have an unlimited pass. Give no trouble, expect none.”
“Thank you,” Inertia said.
Carmen looked at him. “Well, that was easy.”
He looked back and smirked. “Day isn’t over yet,” he pointed out. “Come on, it will only take a couple minutes till we’re docked.”
She nodded and stood with him. They were halfway to the door when she stopped.
“Should I take my sword?” she asked. It still sat on the floor next to her chair. “Give no trouble, expect none,” she added with a questioning tone.
“Yes, you should.”
“Are we here to give trouble?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “Despite the pleasantry, there is no reason to expect we’ll receive none. In places like this, even the janitors wouldn’t have qualms about challenging a pair of Clairvoyants.”
Carmen nodded. “Okay.”
On that cue, her sword telekinetically flew to her hand, and she tied it on her back as they made their way out of The Lady.
13
Last Resort
Carmen stood just before the exit hatch of The Lady and frowned. “The deck is vibrating,” she said.
“It’s the music,” Inertia casually replied.
She looked at him and smiled hesitantly. “You’re joking.”
He stared at her for a moment, his face serious and determined. It was quite obvious that the vibrating deck wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. Yet, after a second or so, he gave a knowing smirk and then turned to open the hatch. He has to be joking, she thought. She couldn’t hear any music. There was no way they could be playing music that loud. All the same, she was at a loss for any other explanation.
Inertia walked out of the ship, and she followed a half step behind. She’d never been in a starship hangar before, let alone one this large. The sheer inconceivable scale of it all made her lightheaded.
What is this place? she thought.
The Lady didn’t rest alone. Starships were lined as far as she could see in both directions. The seemingly endless rows simply faded into blurry nothingness. The Lady was one of the smaller vessels and also the least colorful. Carmen had heard of people decorating starships, though she never really understood the reason for doing so. In any case, they had parked next to a shuttle painted in bright red and orange flames. Another ship, maybe twice the size of The Lady, was more tastefully covered in logos for some security company she’d never heard of.
Overhead, a pair of starfighters cruised past to their landing spots. A freighter that was maybe a quarter mile long was being loaded with a line of goods and what she guessed were slaves or prisoners. She had no interest in reading any of them to find out, but their hands were bound, and they were prodded forward in an…ungentle manner.
She turned away and looked at the people all around her who were just as elaborate and varied as the starships they crewed. Most were not terran. She didn’t know many alien species. It had never been something she had any interest in studying. Now, with the bizarre and exotic right in front of her, it was hard not to stare. She even stopped in place to look at one group.
The tallest stood no higher than her knee. Their lanky gait made their heads sway from side to side with each step they took. A sack on the top of their heads bulged outward when they breathed, like the throat of a frog. She looked away sharply when they eventually noticed her interest. It was then, before she could catch up to Inertia, that a group of sortens passed in front of her. She figured that was a good sign.
“Look at that,” she whispered to him when she was close enough, motioning at the sortens with her head.
Inertia nodded slowly. “Sortens in places like this aren’t out of the ordinary, but I guess it’s better to see some than none,” he said.
Carmen nodded as she watched them walk away. “Now what?”
“Nothing,” he said simply. “This place is too busy to do any business here.”
Carmen guessed she could agree with that. The sort of extralegal work they were seeking undoubtedly took place in the more shadowy realms of the ship. Here, there were people—all types of people—all over the place. It was tempting to take to the air just to not have to deal with them.
“Come on,” Inertia said, joining a crowd that was leaving the hangar. “From now on, if you have anything to say about our mission, say it telepathically,” he added.
“Of course,” she replied after a quick nod.
Half the universe wanted to exit the hangar along with them it seemed. The number of individuals present reminded her of blades of grass in a meadow. Eventually, the lot of them entered the next corridor, and Carmen’s eyes grew wide. The only thing they found was the other half of the universe. The corridor was as wide as a highway. Despite that, there
was so much and so many people that the traffic flowed like frozen molasses. She’d never seen anything like it.
Someone bumped into her in that moment. She couldn’t prevent it. He cried out in pain and then glared at her. He wasn’t terran. His widely spaced eyes, which were mounted on stalks that protruded from his thin head, fixed on her. She was surprised when the color of his skin changed from a dull brown to a milky pale white.
“Damn Clairvoyant,” he muttered before continuing.
She moved quickly to Inertia, grabbed his hand, and held tight. She was shocked just as the alien, whatever he was, had been, but she gritted her teeth and tolerated it till Inertia lowered his static charge.
He glanced at her, and she said, “You’re crazy if you think I’m losing you in this.” It would be her luck. He gave an amused smile, and they continued on.
They reached a large grand foyer. Several corridors like the one they were just in came together here. The traffic turned into an almost solid mass of people. Carmen looked around when she could. No real business or much of anything was happening here. The room seemed to be designed to steer and direct people to wherever they wanted to go. They peeled off into another corridor, and the number of people thinned to no more than would be on an average city street. She was vastly more comfortable now than before, but she held onto Inertia regardless. It was only now, relatively comfortable and not having to think about where she was going, that she noticed the subtle details in the long tunnel they were walking down.
The walls, such as they were, were…such as they were. Their construction seemed hasty and weak yet deliberate. If she breathed on them hard, they’d probably come tumbling down. She remembered what Inertia had said about how a freighter’s decks could be converted. It only took a glance to realize this would simply be an open space if but for the conversion. And it didn’t take long after for her that to realize that individual spaces and corridors could be easily and quickly changed if required.
Her curiosity had her looking down each corridor whenever they branched off to who-knew-where. Occasionally, she even heard some of the fabled music, though distantly. The vibrations through the deck were certainly getting stronger. Her feet were vibrating at this point.
They left the main corridor, and Carmen knew they had to be getting close. She could feel the music in her gut now. Her fingers were practically tuning forks. Even considering that, it was getting a bit odd. She had expected the people that were traveling in their general direction to be, well…less savory by this point. She thought they’d be armed at least. But few were. There weren’t many terrans, but that was no longer a surprise. Neither was the exotic and, at times, bizarre alien life that she still sometimes stared at, though she was getting better at not being so obvious whenever she gawked.
Everything seemed so…casual. The conversations she heard were light and fun, even by the people who were actually armed. If anything, her body armor and sword seemed horribly inappropriate. It was like she’d been invited to a costume party but she was the only one who actually dressed up. Yet, for all that, she and Inertia didn’t draw any more than the usual Clairvoyant attention, and even that was muted. She didn’t know what that meant. The odd and profane was a matter of course here. She’d always wondered what it must be like to be normal, to not have people cower, scream, or run away just because she was there. She just didn’t want to be considered normal in a place like this.
Just then, the movement in the corridor slowed but didn’t stop. It seemed to Carmen that they had joined the end of a long line. Others joined behind them as Inertia squeezed her hand just a touch tighter.
“Is this it?” she asked. He glanced at her and nodded, which prompted her to take a deep breath.
Just before they entered the room, they passed two terrasaur guards. They were maybe twice as tall as she was, and it was all too obvious that they were meant to intimidate. They did a good job of that. Terrasaurs weren’t known for being violent, but their imposing size was backed up by teeth almost as long as one of her fingers and claws that could slice through her bones like butter. Only in the back of her mind did she know she could crush them into small balls with just a thought. The idea of terrasaurs had always made her nervous when she was a kid. It was easy to remember why, now that she was face to face with one.
For all that, the terrasaurs didn’t even give her and Inertia a passing glance. Carmen watched them over her shoulder. She’d never formally met a terrasaur before. She’d only seen them rarely. Earth was their favorite terran tourist spot. New Earth didn’t have much history with non-terran visitors.
She looked forward again, wherein her brain exploded. The lights were bright enough to sear their image into her retinas. The thundering music hit her like waves on a beach. Every sense screamed like it was on fire. The ludicrous overwhelming stupefaction of it all made her wonder if they cooked with nuclear weapons. It wasn’t just the raw sights and sounds of the club, either. The atmosphere was easily their equal.
Women of all manner of species danced on multilevel poles in various stages of undress. Carmen stepped aside to allow a terrasaur to throw out an alien that had been beaten to a pulp. Tables throughout the room were piled high with food she’d never even heard of. Large groups ravaged their meals with all the delicacy of fishing with dynamite while servers tried their best to refill the table without getting their arms ripped off.
This had to be the most unbelievable place she’d ever heard of. She looked at Inertia. He couldn’t be serious about wanting to come here. They’d have better luck finding sorten recruiters at an elementary school.
“So…” she said telepathically. She didn’t think he’d hear her speak out loud even if she screamed in his ear.
Inertia let her hand go. “You know what we’re looking for,” he said.
Carmen thought about it for a moment. “Umm…no, I don’t. I thought this would be more…formal.”
“This is,” he remarked after taking a second to look around the room.
She noted that they had very different ideas of what the word formal meant. “What are we looking for exactly?” she asked. “How do we even know it’s here?” she added.
“I don’t really know. At this point, we have to figure it out as we go along,” he responded. Carmen frowned, which prompted him to smile. “You’re a Clairvoyant, aren’t you?” She didn’t say anything but unknowingly furrowed her eyebrows as she nodded slowly. “That has to be worth something,” he spoke, walking away.
“I’m still not sure about that,” she said to herself as he disappeared into the crowd.
She entered the raging storm herself with no real direction. It was a bit annoying that people didn’t get out of her way as she was used to. Sure, they moved, but only just enough to avoid being shocked by touching her. If there were sortens here, it was impossible for her to tell in the crowd. She glanced around the room quickly and then spotted an easy solution. The VIP section on the third floor overlooked the entire establishment. The curving, serpentine stairway to get to that level, however, prompted a quiet groan from her. It would be too much of a bother to walk through it all. Besides, it might help, she thought. A little advertisement couldn’t hurt.
A thought telekinetically whisked her straight to the third floor. She made a show of flipping over the guardrail onto her feet. Once again, the advertisement couldn’t hurt. It was certainly effective. Attention flew at her in such volleys that she may as well have been a dartboard. Outwardly, at least, she paid it no mind. She instead turned to survey the floor. She hadn’t sensed anything of any interest anyway.
All she could use for the moment were her eyes. There was too much noise to really understand anything else she was sensing. It was like trying to read Widget. Too much was going on in the foreground to know if there was anything relevant in the background. She had never been one for places like this. She didn’t think any Clairvoyant was fond of the overstimulation. What would be the point? In any case, she allowed her e
yes to drift with no active thought on her part.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t see much of anything, even from this perch. The darkness colored the plainly visible below. Smoke billowed in from machines she couldn’t see, making the foggy soup altogether worse. Her new perspective was simply a broader view of what she’d been in the midst of mere moments before. There was no real making sense of it. Even the random flashes from the lights overhead, while giving a few seconds of insight, were too unpredictable to be useful.
She couldn’t help a small sigh. “No one can figure it out,” she said, her words instantly lost in the din of her surroundings.
She turned around before she was called. As always, what prompted her Clairvoyant intuition was beyond her. In this instance, it was a terrasaur guard running toward her. He was out of breath, and she guessed he’d run up the stairs.
“I don’t care what you are. Everyone pays for VIP!” he yelled.
She didn’t have any money, nor did she know how much the privilege cost. “I won’t be long,” she said, testing how much reason was worth.
Not much, apparently, because his claws swiped at her. A casual step back and slight turn of her head was all it took to make him miss. She didn’t even consciously think about it. His jaws then snapped open to bite her in half, and all she could do was wonder how it was that she was looking down a terrasaur’s throat on a freighter in the middle of nowhere when all she had wanted to do was look off a balcony. The thought came and went. She grabbed his mouth by reflex to hold him off, turned her body, and with her greater leverage threw him over the guardrail. It was as easy as taking a breath.
She watched him fall in the dark while a quiet thought whispered in her ear. The seconds stretched out almost comically as she weighed whether to let him die or not. Clairvoyants weren’t exactly known for showing mercy, outside of a quick and clean death, to those who challenged them. She doubted, however, that the sortens were interested in gentle Clairvoyant mercenaries. But… She slowed his fall enough that, on impact, he broke his arm and a few ribs but nothing more. Several graceful steps later, she disappeared into the dark and out of sight. There was no reason to go through a needless fight again. That kind of advertising did hurt—if not her directly then certainly someone else.