The Dark Between the Stars

by Kevin J. Anderson

  “Still, I wanted you to know that this place is always here. You have to be experiencing culture shock with all these new things. I’m the daughter of a Mage-Imperator, and you’re the son of the King and Queen. We understand the need to have a special place. Your father must have had the same need when he was a Prince.”

  Reyn smiled to remember the stories he’d been told. “My father lived on the streets of Earth. His real name was Raymond Aguerra, and he had three brothers, a mother who worked several jobs.” He glanced at Osira’h. “The Hansa thought he would be a perfect candidate to replace old King Frederick, so . . . they kidnapped him, staged an accident that killed the rest of his family, and then altered his appearance. They indoctrinated him so he’d be a good little King.” Reyn gave a harder smile. “That didn’t turn out exactly as they planned.”

  Osira’h was surprised by the story, but she had one of her own. “And I was raised in a breeding camp where my mother was held prisoner. They trained me to be the savior of our race.” The two stood together, staring at the worldtrees. “I guess neither of us is exactly what we appear to be.”

  Reyn hesitated, feeling the ever-present tremors inside him, but at least the twinges of pain had left him alone for now. “Then it’s good to know you.”

  EIGHTY-FIVE

  XANDER BRINDLE

  The Verne arrived back at the Ulio transfer station a day before their scheduled meeting. Xander had intentionally pushed the date, because Terry enjoyed the place and loved meeting with old friends; Terry was also pleased to show his former coworkers how successful he’d become, how his life’s path had improved. He had a happy relationship, a good ship and an exciting career, and had seen much of the Spiral Arm. (Thanks to Xander’s obsessive list-ticking, he was going to see a lot more of it, too.)

  Since they had agreed to the ekti-X business venture with Elisa Enturi, the two young traders had gained a great deal of clout, not to mention profits. If this meeting with Xander’s parents went as well as he hoped, the distribution operations could increase fivefold through Kett Shipping, and Iswander Industries seemed ready to expand even more.

  After the Verne docked—in a much less convenient berth this time—he and Terry worked their way through the connected ships. Terry propelled himself along in the vessels that courteously kept their gravity off; in other ships where his useless legs were a problem, he held on to OK’s shoulder and used his antigrav belt to keep himself weightless.

  Terry bought drinks for some of his old comrades on the engineering and repair crews. They were glad to see their former coworker, and even more enthusiastic when Terry bought them a second round. Xander indulged his friend. Thanks to the ekti-X runs, their accounts were flush and likely to be even more profitable. They played games, told bad jokes and tall tales. Xander and Terry regaled them with descriptions of Fireheart Station, Rhejak, and the now-destroyed Kellum skymine on Golgen.

  Xander was glad to see his partner so happy, but when two former coworkers tried to borrow substantial sums, Xander interceded and said it was time to get back to the Verne, where they would be spending the night rather than paying for a rented cabin. They preferred to sleep in their own bunk anyway.

  During the next day shift, they had breakfast at Terry’s favorite galley café and checked the board to see that the Voracious Curiosity had just arrived. While Xander signaled his parents, Terry scanned the eating establishments and picked a new restaurant that served “Ildiran-human fusion cuisine,” including beverages such as kirae (which Ildirans found intoxicating and humans found disgusting) as well as new kelp and plankton brews from Kellum’s distillery. Xander dared himself to try a pint of “Primordial Ooze.”

  Tasia Tamblyn and Robb Brindle joined them, with embraces all around. Even though Xander worked for his parents, and the Verne was still a Kett Shipping vessel, their travels rarely took the two young men back to company headquarters. With so much potential business hinging on this deal, though, Xander insisted that Tasia and Robb could justify a trip out to Ulio.

  In the Ildiran-human fusion restaurant, Terry suggested that they eat family style so he could try the different dishes. Tasia and Robb had both spent years eating military rations, and Robb had even endured bland textured nutrients provided by his hydrogue captors while he was held as a prisoner of war. His parents weren’t picky, and Xander was happy to eat whatever Terry liked.

  As they settled in to the meal, Tasia said through a mouthful of noodles, “We’ve been impressed with your shipments. The profits from all that stardrive fuel are really helping our bottom line—but where is it coming from? That’s enough output for a couple of top-level skymines. And Golgen’s gone.”

  Robb reached over with a napkin to wipe some brown sauce from his wife’s mouth. “We’re also concerned about the connection with Iswander Industries. I’m all for giving the guy a second chance, but I’d like reassurances that we’re not asking for another disaster. What is his new ekti source? Nobody knows.”

  Terry said, “We understand you have questions, and we thought you’d like to ask them directly.” He glanced at Xander, and then in a comically simultaneous gesture both of them looked at their watches.

  Elisa Enturi was punctual and businesslike, as always. OK led her to their table, and Xander introduced everyone. Elisa gave them a cool smile. “Good to see the pilots of the Verne decided to bring my proposal to the highest levels of Kett Shipping.” She sat, but didn’t bother to clip herself in place; she seemed comfortable with or without gravity. “We’ll all benefit greatly from this.”

  Tasia held up a hand and shot a sidelong look at her son. “Not so fast. We don’t know about your proposal. And we do have questions.”

  Elisa raised her eyebrows. “Questions? Hasn’t the ekti-X been selling well?”

  “Wonderfully well,” Robb said in a conciliatory tone. “But it’s not all about profit.”

  “Really? I was hoping to expand our agreement to provide regular loads of stardrive fuel for at least five more Kett Shipping vessels. Our output is still increasing, and there’s a consistent demand. It’s business—it is about profit.”

  “But where does your ekti-X come from?” Tasia asked. “I’m familiar with ekti-harvesting operations, old Ildiran skymines, nebula skimmers, hydrogen extraction from cometary clouds. I know how cost-intensive it is and how difficult. But . . . Iswander Industries—by the Guiding Star, where is it all coming from?”

  “We have alternative methods of production,” Elisa said.

  A waiter appeared, but Elisa gave him a slight shake of her head, and he backed away. She returned her gaze to Tasia and Robb, and Xander felt as if she were ignoring him entirely.

  “Ekti-X is our proprietary discovery, our industry, and our profits. Lee Iswander just recovered from a severe setback that would have ended most careers, but he is resilient and innovative. Let him keep his secrets and don’t begrudge him his success.”

  Robb raised his hands. “We didn’t say we begrudged it, but if we’re going to be distributing ekti-X, we want to know its source.”

  “And I cannot tell you. Those are the terms. Iswander Industries has a growing supply of stardrive fuel to distribute. Do you want to be part of it, or should I contact other shipping companies?” Her expression was completely bland, as if she didn’t care a whit which option Tasia and Robb chose.

  Xander interjected, “Ekti-X is a high-quality product, and it practically sells itself.”

  Terry added, “Not to mention, we’re getting a good reputation as trade pilots. You should see your son in action—he’s getting to be a pretty good negotiator!”

  Tasia and Robb looked at each other, weighing options. Elisa sat motionless, as if counting down seconds in her mind. Xander felt anxious, and when his mother saw his pleading expression, that was enough to tip the scale in their favor.

  “All right,” Tasia said. “Draw up the paperwork, and we’ll look it over—but I think we have a deal.” Of course there were logical and
commercial reasons to accept the contract, but she made her choice because she knew it would benefit her son. “From now on, Kett Shipping will be your ekti-X distributor.”

  EIGHTY-SIX

  GARRISON REEVES

  As he flew the Prodigal Son at the end of another debris-mapping mission, Garrison was delayed outside the Lunar Orbital Complex because CDF ships were engaged in maneuvers. Newly commissioned Manta cruisers flitted through an obstacle course in the space rubble in a shakedown exercise.

  After one of the rookie Manta pilots collided with a spinning rock fragment and tumbled off course, the pilot had to anchor the damaged cruiser to an asteroid and call for repair teams. The shutdown of the obstacle course and the mounting of emergency response crews delayed all traffic around the LOC.

  Garrison had to park the Prodigal Son in a distant orbit, out of the way. And wait.

  Finishing this run had earned Garrison two days of R&R, but he was banking his time so he could take a longer trip to Academ to see his son. He missed Seth, but the boy loved his school, and Garrison realized this was what life should have been for a normal Roamer boy. He wished Dale had kept his two sons at Academ, so Seth could have gotten to know his cousins.

  Finally, when the space traffic was released again and the delayed ships could dock, Garrison parked the Prodigal Son in its assigned slot and then requisitioned fuel and a standard maintenance check. He got to his station quarters three hours later than expected, and was taken aback to discover a message tacked to his door. It was a handwritten note from Lubai, the green priest who did freelance work in the LOC’s exchange. “Garrison Reeves: I received an urgent message for you through the worldforest network. See me immediately.”

  A chill poured through his bloodstream. Seth! Something must have happened to Seth. He should have gotten this message three hours earlier.

  He raced into the exchange marketplace just in time for a new lunch crowd. He jostled his way past the entertainment kiosks and the clashing smells of different food stalls until he reached the green priest, only to find Lubai occupied with another customer. Lubai was bent over his treeling, eyes closed, while a young CDF soldier dictated a letter to her husband who was stationed on Theroc.

  Garrison fidgeted, trying to catch the attention of the green priest. Countless scenarios played through his imagination. After rescuing Seth from Sheol and the bloater explosion, it would be an unbearable irony if the boy had suffered an accident in the supposedly safe environment of the Roamer school.

  The female soldier continued talking to the green priest, an intimate, romantic message for the husband she missed so much. As he eavesdropped, Garrison felt a pang, knowing that Elisa had never felt that way about him. Finally, the soldier noticed him and looked embarrassed at what he must have heard; she left quickly.

  Lubai looked up. “Garrison Reeves—I expected you’d come sooner.”

  “There was a delay. What’s your urgent message? Is it my son?”

  “No, not your son . . .” He paused, looked at Garrison with a deep and intense gaze. “It’s the rest of your clan.”

  Garrison couldn’t understand what he meant. Lubai gestured for him to take a seat on the hard metal bench across from the treeling. “There was a deadly plague on the space city where clan Reeves made their new home. Their green priest, Shelud, sent messages of their explorations, the discoveries of an alien race. Then Roamers began to get sick. They started to die. Your brother Dale, his family, your cousins . . . such a tragedy.”

  Garrison stared, unable to believe what he was hearing. “A plague? How many are dead? And what about my father?”

  “All dead.” Lubai hesitated. “As they fell ill, Shelud went from deathbed to deathbed, interviewing them, speaking their words into the worldforest network. Many had a chance to pass along final messages. A woman named Sendra wished to say goodbye to you. And Olaf Reeves . . . he was still alive when Shelud sent his last message. But he too was already sick.” The green priest shook his head.

  “When did this happen?”

  “We lost contact with Shelud more than a day ago. Even then, he was one of the last ones left alive.”

  Garrison felt weak. His arms were trembling as he rested them on the table.

  In a compassionate voice, Lubai said, “Here, let me tell you everything.” He touched his treeling, dipped his mind into the forest database, and repeated the messages Shelud had delivered, told the whole story, the spread of the disease, Dale and his family dying, Sendra’s farewell. . . .

  Garrison’s eyes refused to focus, and he felt light-headed. It was too much to take in at once—his brother and Sendra, their two boys . . . all dead now because Olaf Reeves had dragged them away from civilization, away from everything.

  His anger toward his father for doing such a foolish thing could not push aside the sorrow. He couldn’t imagine anything as small as a virus defeating the blustery, inflexible clan leader. Of the Retroamers who followed him out into empty space, how many had really wanted to exile themselves? How much had they even known about where they were going?

  He could hear his father’s booming voice as he railed at Garrison for letting himself be seduced by That Woman. When he was young and determined, Garrison had been so sure his father was wrong about everything, but Olaf’s assessment of Elisa, at least, had been correct.

  Garrison had been dead to his father for a long time. He wished they could have reconciled, but now he knew that if he’d rejoined his family and gone along as Olaf wanted—and taken Seth there!—then he and his son would be dead too.

  Sitting across from the green priest, he realized he had been silent for a long moment. Though Seth had barely known his uncle, his grandfather, or his cousins, the boy needed to hear this news. He said to Lubai, “Please send a message to Academ for me.”

  EIGHTY-SEVEN

  ORLI COVITZ

  In a very short time, the Proud Mary felt like home to Orli. The worn upholstery in the cockpit chair was soft, warm, and comfortable, conforming to her body. Even the lingering sweet smell of Mary Coven’s tobacco pipe smoke seemed natural.

  According to records the Proud Mary’s previous captain had been a curmudgeonly woman, a loner by her own choice (and because people didn’t much like her company). Orli had a sense, though, that Mary Coven would have approved of the ship’s new steward.

  DD proved to be an excellent copilot as well as a companion. He was, after all, a Friendly compy, originally designed to be a best friend, and DD was definitely Orli’s best friend. Oddly enough, when she’d been married to Matthew, even during the good times, DD had always been a closer confidant. She hadn’t realized that until now.

  “I’m glad you’re with me, DD,” she said as they flew toward their destination.

  “And I am very happy to accompany you, Orli.” The compy turned back to the ship’s screens, taking his navigation duties seriously. “We have thirty-one minutes before we disengage the stardrive and arrive at the space city.”

  She leaned back in the pilot chair. “I hope the people of clan Reeves welcome us—or at least don’t get upset with us for checking on them.”

  “I am a Friendly compy, Orli. People don’t normally get upset when I visit.”

  “That’s because you’re charming.”

  “And I find you quite pleasant as well, Orli.”

  She had enjoyed the solitude during the long flight, the chance to get her thoughts together. DD often chattered to keep her company, but when she told him she wanted some quiet time to think, his feelings weren’t hurt.

  Everything felt so different since leaving Relleker, as if she’d become a different person. Her life had changed in extraordinary ways, many of them reactive, many of them self-inflicted. By asking Rlinda Kett if she could fly a trade ship, Orli had taken control of her own life again. This was Orli Covitz version 3.0.

  She had no idea if this was what she’d do for the rest of her life. She was still intelligent and attractive—at least she thought so.
She had plenty to offer, whether or not Matthew realized it. And after her days alone in the quiet of the ship, with time to assess who she was and what she’d accomplished, Orli realized she wasn’t bitter toward her husband, just disappointed. She didn’t want to turn into a curmudgeonly old woman like Mary Coven—but she didn’t have to think about the rest of her life now, just the next step. She had no way of knowing who Orli 4.0 might be.

  Wanting to make a good first impression for clan Reeves, Orli put on a clean captain’s jacket, washed her face, practiced her smile, and rehearsed a greeting. She had heard stories about Olaf Reeves, and when she’d asked for advice on how to handle the Retroamers, Rlinda just chuckled in her deep heartwarming way. “Orli, girl, be yourself—that’s all you need. Chances are, Olaf will tell you to go away and leave them alone. That’s fine—no harm done. You can use the practice, and I’m paying for the ekti to make your run. Xander and Terry have some sort of sweet deal, so we get the fuel cheap.”

  The coordinates Olaf Reeves had discreetly given Rlinda were not at any planet, not even in an interesting star system. Orli wondered what could possibly be all the way out here. Then she saw the large station, an artificial structure that looked like a barbed-wire snowflake, with a central hub and five angled spokes.

  Orli had been to dozens of planets, but she had never seen anything like this. “How did that city get here? And who built it?”

  “I do not know, Orli. Let me check the ship’s databases for an answer.”

  “I doubt you’ll find any information on it, but clan Reeves discovered it somehow. It looks . . . ancient.” She activated the comm. “This is Kett Shipping vessel Proud Mary contacting the station, or city, or whatever it is. I’m looking for clan Reeves. Please respond.”

  DD continued to scan the area. “Orli, I found seventeen Roamer ships. They match the vessels owned by clan Reeves, according to records.”