by KT Belt
She considered what she’d do next and then stopped. It was obvious by now that her search couldn’t be logically reasoned. Not in this place. Pure reason wasn’t supposed to exist here. It couldn’t. The numbing, ethereal haze of it all made sure of that.
She started walking with no aim or direction. The pulsing music guided her as much as anything. Ghosts in the dark, illuminated by the flashing lights, caught and then lost her attention. Everything seemed like an interesting lead when it could only be seen for a split second, which was frustrating. She even thought she saw Inertia for a moment, but she guessed that didn’t matter. Despite all the effort of getting into the VIP section, Carmen casually walked back down the stairs. It just felt better to be in the midst of everyone. And then it didn’t, and she flitted into a mostly empty corridor. There, shrouded in the darkest of the dark, she stopped and thought again.
What do I do now? she wondered. She’d done this more times than she cared to remember. Probably every Clairvoyant had. Her thoughts shifted rapidly through…nothing. It was like she’d stepped out of herself. She perceived everything, yet the immediate was no more than a dim haze. Oddly, the only thing that stood out in particular was her games of chess with Phaethon, mixed with some of Janus’s sermons. Despite what she had said to her charge and despite what Janus had said, or Kali, or Gungnir, she had to admit that, at times, even Clairvoyants had to rely on nothing more than pure serendipity. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Such things could never be forced.
As she leaned against the wall, the feeling of her sword resting in its scabbard and pressing against her back took almost the whole of her attention. There was no real reason; it just did, as did a few strands of hair covering her face. A passerby glanced at the motionless Clairvoyant with her eyes closed, paused a moment, and then continued on. There was no rhyme or reason to how Carmen knew of the event; she just did. And then a new feeling came slowly. It was difficult to give words to. The best way she could describe it was anxiety, yet it was different from the conscious anxiety she felt about getting a job or finding Phaethon. That feeling was well worn company. This she’d experienced only once or twice before, and for some reason it made her think of ice cream.
Her eyes snapped open when the moment to act came. She didn’t know why it had to be that instant, but she felt prompted just as surely as if someone rang a bell. Purpose, focus, and economy, the Clairvoyant hallmarks, returned almost naturally. A few quick steps brought her back into the open. She was in no way surprised when Inertia appeared next to her. She glanced at him, and his face mirrored hers.
“Come on,” he said.
Carmen neither needed to nod nor give verbal affirmation. She simply became his shadow. The two followed far enough away behind a sorten that they wouldn’t be noticed. To their Clairvoyant senses, however, the sorten stood out like a giraffe at a dog show. There was just something different about him.
She’d only seen a sorten a few times before today. The people weren’t the epitome of grace or poise. She’d describe them as gangly if she were being charitable. She guessed their form could be considered sleek if she were being even more polite. Their shaggy white fur hid much of their bodies, giving mass that actually wasn’t there. But their lean, thin proportions always seemed to suggest they’d be far taller than the foot and a half advantage they held on her when they stood upright. They rarely stood upright, though, preferring to walk on all four of their legs. In such instances, they typically wrapped their two arms around their neck. There was something frail or sickly about them, like a stiff breeze could blow them apart.
But this sorten was all that and, well…not. He looked around the room with the same nervous anticipation of a deer. Carmen wouldn’t say he was scared, per se. She certainly wasn’t going to read him to find out for certain. By her guess, though, he seemed anxiously expectant, which was odd for a denizen of this place. There was a tense readiness about his movements. He wasn’t wearing a uniform of any kind, for what that was worth. In fact, there was nothing official about him. She’d always assumed that the sortens they were seeking would be representatives from some central sorten authority. Perhaps she was just being naïve? The Rogue Wolves weren’t officially part of anything themselves. But, all the same, it was obvious that this sorten’s purpose for being here, like hers and Inertia’s, wasn’t rest and entertainment.
They followed the sorten to the other end of the room, where he sat next to another sorten at a table. The second gave her much the same feel as the first. She figured that was a good sign. She glanced at Inertia, who neither slowed nor stopped till they were standing right in front of the sortens.
What now? she thought again.
There were no rules on how to go about this, as far as she knew. She couldn’t even be exactly sure that these sortens would be of help. For now, the two sides simply stared at each other. The sortens stiffened noticeably before one of them spoke.
“Would you like direction, terrans?” he asked.
“Yes,” Carmen blurted out by reflex.
She caught Inertia smile and then shake his head out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help but blush as they sat down. It was only a minor humiliation, though. He telekinetically grabbed two chairs from another table. The sortens noticeably stiffened again as the confirmed Clairvoyants joined them, yet they also wilted, even under her gaze. She did her best to soften it, but it was a futile effort. She turned her attention to Inertia. There was no reason to make their prospective employers nervous.
“I’ve never worked with sortens before. Do they always ask stupid questions?” Inertia asked. There was no anger in his voice, but there was arrogance and noticeable contempt.
She didn’t know enough about Inertia to tell if that was an act; she did, however, roll her eyes and groan at her previous desire to be polite. It was a wonder sometimes if she did anything right.
“And what is your work? Gardening, perhaps?” the sorten asked.
Inertia’s eyes narrowed for a moment on the sorten who had spoken, who wilted again. “Don’t waste my time,” Inertia said. The authority barked out of his mouth as strong as a punch.
Carmen flashed him a look. She didn’t think the aggression was necessary, but she held her peace. What did she know?
“I apologize, terran. You catch us at a disadvantage,” the other sorten began. “It appears you take us for something we are not.”
“So, what are you?” Carmen asked, following Inertia’s rather direct style. He even gave an approving nod.
The sortens glanced at each other before one of them answered. “Merchants.”
Inertia stood almost immediately and walked away. Carmen was caught off guard, but she was just a step behind.
“What are you doing?” she asked telepathically.
“Playing along. I hoped you didn’t think this would be straight forward,” he spoke.
“No, I didn’t,” she replied.
“Good. Actually, we are doing rather well,” he continued. “If they are merchants, they’ll let us go and count their blessings that they emerged from encountering two Clairvoyants unscathed. If they are what we are seeking, they’ll realize they overplayed their hand and call us back.”
He turned to her and smirked. She smirked as well a half second before it came.
“Terrans!” one of the sortens called. “Please excuse us, and don’t be hasty.” Carmen and Inertia turned around. She was about to walk back, but he stayed put, so she did as well. “We would like it if you could join us.”
Carmen and Inertia glanced at each other again and then returned to the table and sat down. Inertia said nothing. Neither did she. The music pulsed and pounded. The lights flashed all around them. The scantily clad and profane vied for everyone’s attention. Quite frankly, she was used to the chaotic, grimy mess by this point.
“If you could forgive us, it turns out that we might have use for your services,” one of the sortens said.
“Not finding m
any gardeners who are willing to work for you?” Carmen asked.
“Don’t play too hard,” Inertia warned.
She gave a quick nod, and the sortens offered no reply, which was enough of an answer for her. Kali was right that Clairvoyants didn’t work with or even really consort with sortens. It made her wonder what motivated Charon to do so.
“What do you need us to garden?” Inertia asked.
“We don’t know,” one of the sortens answered. Carmen looked at Inertia, ready to get up and leave again, but he remained unfazed. The sorten continued. “We’re only looking for…good gardeners.”
“Where?” Inertia asked.
“Do you have your own ship?” the sorten questioned. Inertia answered with a nod. “Where? I don’t know that either. But I happen to have some coordinates—deep space. Perhaps someone there can tell you more?”
Carmen gave a satisfied nod and leaned back in her chair.
Inertia was more focused. “That will do,” he said.
14
Submerged
The dark was all encompassing and ever present, as always. Nothing could be seen in any direction. In this forsaken hell, breaths reverberated out in echoing pants. Their only company was the slowly quickening beat of the heart. All thought that wasn’t transfixed on the immediately worthwhile faded away to barely remembered dreams. By contrast, fears, worries, hopes, pleasures, and the like, morphed into a sublime, ethereally distant yet all-pervading veil. This state was blind and deaf but not dumb. No, there was too much awareness to call the stupefaction dumb. The active will, always seeking and forever unsatisfied, meant that they weren’t lost, at least not completely.
The Lady dispelled her ghost field after going fast. Carmen removed a few strands of hair from her face and took a deep breath. The exhale joined the various hums and whirrs ever present on the bridge of The Lady. She’d never get used to ghost drives; it was such a disorienting means of travel. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that they had just travelled hundreds, if not thousands, of light-years in a mere moment. It didn’t feel like they’d even gone anywhere. At least now she’d finally be able to see what they had been searching for. She turned on the external view camera, which had fast become her favorite button, and then sighed. The screen reported nothing, other than a completely black image.
“We did go fast, right?” she asked Inertia. It seemed like they were still in the ghost field.
“Yes,” he replied without pause. “We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
Carmen frowned and looked back at the screen. “I don’t see anything.”
Though, upon a more detailed look, she could see stars dotted amongst the dark. The pathetically small pinpoints of light only served as a reminder of just how alone they truly were.
“You’re not supposed to see anything,” Inertia said casually as he glanced at her. Then he slowly shook his head. “Sons of bitches…” he muttered. “No one would ever find this.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. Inertia answered by hitting a few buttons on the console in front of him. He then motioned for Carmen to look at her external view screen. “I still don’t see anything,” she replied after a few seconds.
“Press the button marked infrared,” he said, pointing.
Carmen dutifully complied, and it became quite obvious now that something was out there. The object was roughly spherical in shape and several hundred miles in diameter. The infrared camera also showed several areas that were noticeably, though not especially, hotter than the others. The color display made the thing look like a horribly painted Easter egg.
“It’s a rogue planetoid,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but…so what?”
Inertia shook his head again. “We’re nowhere near any systems or anything else, really. This anonymous rock is just floating free in deep space, dim as a speck of dirt in a dark well. It’s a wonder the sortens even found it. Unless they towed it out here…” he added after a second thought.
“So, no one else will be able to find it either?” Carmen more stated than asked.
“Yes, exactly,” Inertia replied anyway.
“Why do this?”
“I don’t know. Could be anything. That’s what we’re here to find out.”
“So, what now?” she asked without missing a beat.
Inertia opened his mouth but closed it a moment later. Then he turned to her, after slowly rolling his eyes. She looked at him expectantly, wondering what the problem was. His face was serious and meditative.
“You really do like asking that question, don’t you?” he asked casually. Carmen gave a guilty smile. She had never thought about it before. Inertia also smiled for a moment before becoming more serious again. “Well, it’s a good one. We were given a destination but no real instructions after that.”
“Could they have just been leading us on?” Carmen wondered out loud.
Inertia shook his head again. “No,” he said simply. “Not like this. Random coordinates wouldn’t drop us right in front of a planetoid in the middle of nowhere.”
“So—”
“So,” Inertia interrupted, aping her tone. “I’m at a loss.” He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. “Let’s try hailing them, at least.”
He made his hail and there was no response. Carmen looked at him, and he looked at her. She opened her mouth as a certain question came to the fore. Then she thought better of it. I really do ask that question a lot, she reflected. She turned her attention to her external view screen and figured she’d try to be more productive. She didn’t know much about anything in this realm, but perhaps some common sense would suffice? This was just a rock lost in the dark, no doubt about that. She looked at the screen over and over again and could come up with no other conclusion. Maybe the obvious was too much so. The little spots of extra heat on the screen caught her attention.
“Inertia, why would a planetoid have hot spots like that?” she asked, pointing at her screen.
“Any number of reasons,” he said. “But if I were to guess, I’d say a heat source like that is coming from some sort of artificial device on or just beneath the surface.”
Carmen nodded slowly. She had assumed as much. “So—” Inertia glanced at her, and she sheepishly closed her mouth. “Excuse me,” she muttered, choosing different wording. “But is there anything on the surface?”
Inertia turned to his console and pressed a few buttons. “No.”
“What about under the surface?”
“There’s no way to tell definitively with the sensors we have,” he answered.
She still couldn’t accept the situation as presented. Inertia had to be right. There was no way the sortens had given them random coordinates that just happened to lead to a random planetoid in the middle of nowhere.
After a minute or so of quiet thought, she asked, “How did you hail them?”
“There is a standard agreed upon interstellar greeting when encountering unknown vessels. I transmitted it on all channels.”
Carmen nodded again. “There was a little boy who used to come to my apartment,” she began, thinking of Theodore. “He’d tease me by knocking on the door and then running away. It got to the point that I never answered the door when he knocked. He’d make such a racket. Used to drive my neighbors crazy,” she added with a smile. “I’d catch him by sensing him before he knocked or by looking down the hall through the peephole to see him coming.”
“What are you suggesting?” Inertia asked.
“That we should walk up to the door,” Carmen replied after a shrug. “If they’re not listening, maybe someone’s watching.”
He looked around the room as he mulled it over and then threw up his hands after a sigh. “As good a plan as any,” he uttered as he started maneuvering The Lady closer.
Nothing happened, at least not at first. Carmen watched her screen, since there was nothing else for her to do. Then there was a change—a distinct hot spot on h
er screen. It grew steadily till it peaked and then died off to its previous level.
Inertia sat still for a moment. “They opened the door,” he said simply.
Carmen wasn’t sure what he was referring to, so she switched the cameras on her external view screen back to the visible light spectrum. The dark mass of the planetoid now had a lighted hole cut into its depths. Her victories in life being what they were, she couldn’t help a small smile of triumph.
“Well, there it is,” Inertia said. “It helps that some partners are better than others,” he added, glancing at her. She smiled again, this time more fully.
The mood decidedly changed after that. There was no more smiling, and all casual banter ceased. Carmen even glanced down at her sword resting next to her.
“I’m taking her in,” Inertia said. After a moment, he asked nonchalantly, “What happened to that boy?”
Carmen swallowed hard. “He’s dead,” she said evenly.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“So am I.”
A brief blast from the thrusters glided The Lady steadily, if cautiously, into the planetoid. From Carmen’s view screen, the approaching black mass appeared to swallow them whole. The small tunnel of light that was their unambiguous welcome was the only hedge against crashing into the dark bare rock. The stars were slowly ripped away as the lights guided them deeper. It reminded Carmen of the long elevator ride down into the facility. She was quite happy when the ship eventually settled on a landing platform at the bottom. At least now they wouldn’t hit anything—just one worry among her thousands.
Inertia studied his console. “There’s breathable atmosphere here,” he said.