Micah Trace and the Shattered Gate

by Eric Swanson

  Wes threw the ball in Aquis’ direction and the seven-foot-tall Ceran shuffled his feet and stopped the ball with his chest, leaned back a bit. The ball dropped to his feet and Aquis trapped it to the floor with one foot. For a moment, Aquis’ face shifted in faux disgust. “Actually, Wes… I think I’m going to go wash my hands.” Aquis held both massive hands up. “Like, forever.”

  All three exploded in laughter that filled the quarter-court.

  Outside a small window above the court, the black of space contrasted with the light gray metal

  surfaces inside, the quiet outside with the life within the ship.

  Six Months Later

  Chapter Fourteen

  Playing the Hand That’s Dealt

  9,040,354 Interstellar Units from Ceres

  “Deal, Tobiah.” Po said to the Barrister across the table. A bright smile spread across Po’s face as a few cards slid toward his hands that rested on the gray brushed steel table. “I’m getting ready to beat everyone at this table, take all of your money and shame you all into never playing again!”

  “We’ll see, Po…” Tobiah’s deep baritone voice wasn’t as loud as usual. He stared intently at his cards then moved a few cards into different positions in his hand. “I’m rather attached to my caps, I’ll have you know.”

  With that, Tobiah anteed by tossing a pair of red bottle caps into a growing pile in the center of table. The caps came from beverage and food containers. Their food supply was vacuum sealed on pouches, all topped by these bright caps.

  Over the course of their year-plus-long voyage, the team had gathered hundreds of the caps and came to use them as currency, gambling props and a way to buy one’s way out of an unpalatable task. Sanballat refused to participate in their bottle cap economy from the beginning.

  “Those worthless chunks of metal will mean nothing once we’re off this ship.” Usually, that was followed by a whisper of something along the lines of: “If we ever leave the ship…”

  While Sanballat became substantially more jaded as their trip progressed, the rest of the crew found Tobiah’s increasing warmth and attempts to bond with Remy and the pair of explorers to be pleasant surprises. Tobiah’s keen intellect afforded him a clearer approach to his task than anyone onboard expected, and their water supply remained plentiful, clean and uninterrupted throughout as a result.

  “Are you…” Tobiah gestured lightly toward the small pile of red caps in the middle of the table.

  Aquis, distracted for a moment by the consideration of his hand, started and tossed a pair of caps toward the pile. “In.”

  “Not exactly rife with confidence, my friend?” Wes looked at the massive Ceran over his cards with a smirk.

  Aquis chuckled lightly and shrugged while he continued to stare at his cards. “I don’t really…” Aquis’s face twisted with sheepish shame. “Play much…”

  “Good.” Tobiah said with a dark laugh. “More caps for me.”

  Aquis tensed a bit and the rise of his oddly large shoulders nearly made his neck disappear completely. Meremoth padded softly into the room and approached the table while Aquis’s shoulders began to relax bit by bit. She smiled warmly to Aquis from behind Tobiah, then glanced down at the Barrister’s cards.

  Her eyebrows rose a little and she continued around the table.

  “You want in on the next hand, Remy?” Wes asked with a wink and smile.

  Meremoth laughed and patted bulging pocket in her gray pants at the right hip. “No, Wes…” She pulled a cap out of the pocket and held it up. “I don’t think it’s smart to carry more caps than I already have on me…” She twirled the cap in the air near her head for a beat. “Magnets everywhere on this ship, you know…”

  “Oh!” Tobiah laughed. “So your retirement from our little gambling club is an exercise in mission preservation?”

  “Something like that…” She said slowly as she rounded the table further and paused behind Aquis. She put a hand on his shoulder and patted lightly once.

  Aquis straightened in his chair and laid his cards on the table, face down. “Up five.” Aquis said before he dropped a small pile of caps into the mound on the gray tabletop.

  Five caps halfway through a hand… that was a committed bet. Wes and Pollai (who was uncharacteristically quiet during their card games) tossed chips into the heap but Tobiah hesitated.

  “Out.” Po said. He tossed his cards onto the table face down.

  The Barrister’s eyes narrowed a bit as he surveyed Aquis’s face. The massive Ceran averted his eyes from Tobiah’s and stared at the caps for a beat. Meremoth’s hand left Aquis’s shoulder as she stepped away from the table.

  “New rule.” Tobiah laughed and pointed past Aquis at Meremoth. “Remy’s not allowed near the table if she’s not playing.”

  From the far corner of the common room, Sanballat sat with a data pad and stylus. He looked up at the sound of Tobiah’s voice, confused by the warmth of it. For a moment, Sanballat stared at Tobiah from a distance and waited for his cohort to meet his gaze.

  A peel of warm laughter rung from around the table and Remy, her back to Sanballat, simply shrugged. “Baseless accusations of conduct unbecoming a member of this crew…” She smiled at the Barrister anew. “Dangerous, Toby.”

  Sanballat bristled and his face contorted in confusion once more.

  No one ever referred to Ceres’s most gifted legal mind by anything other than his given name. His stoic demeanor and cool personal manner didn’t lend themselves to many deep personal connections… Certainly very few (if any) nicknames.

  “Are you suggesting I need help to beat you, Tobiah?”

  “Why insinuate when I can just say so, Aquis?” Tobiah replied.

  More laughter from the table, this time louder and from everyone.

  The laughter stopped when the sharp click of the ship’s PA preceded Micah’s voice.

  “Remy, to Command. ASAP.” Micah’s voice shook a bit, clear even over the crackle of the PA. “Remy. Command.”

  The game broke up as Remy rushed from the room. A call for Remy to the Command Center meant some form of emergency was in progress and the rest of the crew scattered to the other parts of the ship to do their jobs.

  Once everyone else left, Sanballat, Virgalis’s resident farmer, turned his attention back to his data pad. His plants would grow while everyone hustled about the ship, busied by panic, whether he was in the green room or not.

  Left to his own devices in the common room, Sanballat continued to refine his plan of action he intended to execute once the Virgalis arrived in the Solar system.

  A Small Crack, Big Problem

  9,045,543 Interstellar Units from Ceres

  Meremoth, Garreous and Micah stood before the primary control module at the front of the Command Center. A dark, blank screen took up most of the wall at the front of the room over the control module. Most of the lights on the control panel were glowing green, a small number yellow and one single, blinking light was red.

  That light was tied to the oxygen recycling system. It was the one light on the panel which need to remain green always.

  “Can we see it yet?” Garreous asked, his focus on the red light.

  Meremoth pushed a few buttons and a diagram of the ship popped onto the screen before them.

  A lightly blinking orb moved around the ship’s diagram. “The drone is almost in place… The power of the magnets required to keep it attached to the ship means that it isn’t moving all that quickly…” Meremoth shrugged in apology, which Garreous waived off then went right back to staring at the light and the ship’s diagram in turn.

  Several quiet moments passed as the blinking light moved toward what the Virgalis’s diagnostic system identified as a problem.

  “Drone is in place.” ANDI announced after a soft series of beeps.

  “Onscreen.” All three said simultaneously.

  The screen flickered for a moment then displayed the outside of the ship. Several silver tubes protrud
ed from the ship in ‘U’ shapes and one, cracked quite a bit, spewed what looked like steam out into space.

  “We’re losing more than I thought…” Garreous spoke slowly. He leaned closer to the monitor then punched a few buttons on the keyboard below the blinking lights. The screen flickered again and an infrared display colored the screen in red, yellow and orange streaks. “…can we…” Garreous pressed more buttons then stared intently at nothing on the ceiling for a moment.

  “ANDI…” Garreous became lost in thought and said nothing more. After a period of silence, the machine replied.

  “Yes, Garreous?”

  “What are the functional capabilities of the drone that’s already out there?” Garreous stepped away from the keyboard and paced around the Command Center mumbling to himself about the drone.

  After a few familiar tones, ANDI responded.

  “The drone’s functions are primarily observational in nature. Several types of cameras are equipped on the drone itself and I—”

  “Does it have a magnifying glass or lens of any kind?”

  A few beeps later: “There is a 2000 times power lens, yes.”

  “Could we detach the lens and use it to solder the opening in the line?”

  “The machine likely lacks the dexterity to maneuver the line back into place…” Remy said before ANDI could reply.

  “That is correct.” ANDI intoned.

  “So—” Garreous began before ANDI spoke again.

  “In add—” ANDI stopped. “I apologize, Garreous. I didn’t mean to… Please don’t be upset with me…”

  “ANDI, it’s fine.” Micah stepped toward the panel and shared a bemused glance with both Meremoth and Garreous. Garreous’s edits to ANDI personality subroutines sometimes made the machine less efficient due to the interruptions which were soaked in cyber-sensitivity.

  “What were you going to say, ANDI?” Garreous asked.

  “We lack a source of light proximal enough to use the lens for your suggested purpose.” ANDI said a little faster than usual.

  “Great…” Garreous turned away from the controls again and paced for a few more quiet moments. Garreous sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose for a beat. His breathing slowed then stopped. “How long do we have?”

  “Approximately twelve hours.” ANDI said after the familiar tones.

  “Well…” Micah walked toward Garreous and put a hand on his shoulder. “Good thing we’ve got a genius on the ship.”

  One Step at a Time

  9,047,659 Interstellar Units from Ceres

  About an hour later, the entire crew of the Virgalis gathered in the common space. Sat next to each other, Aquis and Wes both faced one of the larger reinforced windows and bounced an Antisar ball back and forth to each other off wall above the window.

  With each reverberating strike of the ball against the ship’s wall, Sanballat became more and more frustrated. The Courtier started each time the ball hit the triple walled metal and at each occurrence, became angrier.

  Garreous, Micah and Meremoth walked into the common room through the Command Center doorway and each wore the same serious expression. The trio took folded chairs from the rack on the wall to their right and set them up in turn.

  For a moment, the entire crew of the ship sat in silence.

  THUD

  Sanballat turned toward the pair and their ball with an infuriated twist. Aquis held the ball in his massive hand and shrugged apologetically at the angered Ceran. A flustered sigh later, Sanballat turned back toward the center of the room.

  THUD

  “You-“ Sanballat began as he swung his body back toward the wall, the noise and the ball. The Antisar implement in question now rested in Wes’s hand, whose face wore a similarly apologetic expression to Aquis’s a moment before.

  “Sorry.” Wes shrugged and held the ball out toward Sanballat. “Do you want to…”

  “Of course not, you clod…” Sanballat spat. The Courtier squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and slowed his breathing…

  THUD

  Sanballat’s eyes snapped open and widened. Rage twisted his face as he sought the offensive Antisar ball. He looked from Wes to Aquis and couldn’t find the ball… Slowly, he turned back toward the middle of the room and the rest of the quiet crew.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to play?” A familiar voice asked. Across the common space, Tobiah stood, black Antisar ball in hand and an impish grin on his face.

  Laughter rolled across the rest of the crew as Tobiah lofted the ball underhand to Po who in turn threw it lightly to Wes.

  As Sanballat continued to stew, Micah stood and addressed the rest of the crew.

  “Alright…” Micah sighed deeply and bought himself a moment to choose his first words. “Glad everybody had a laugh, we definitely need moments like that on a trip this long…” Micah’s gaze swept across the gathered group as he spoke. “Remy, Garreous and I have been working on a serious issue with the ship, one that could compromise the mission… almost entirely.”

  The airy levity in the room disappeared in the span of a drawn breath and everyone straightened and came to attention.

  “What’s happening, Mike?” Wes broke the brief silence and asked.

  “Our oxygen line cracked and broke through the outer hull of the ship.” Micah said. He locked eyes with an uncertain Wes and resolve returned to his voice. He knew someone on the ship needed to be firm and clear as to their plight and Micah immediately chose to be that sure person. “We’re losing oxygen at an alarming pace and don’t have much more than a handful of hours before the ship blows all our air into space.”

  “Oh.” Gale held back a frightened sob. Her time in the field during the Third Filan War was mostly spent planet-side in artillery-riddled battles. Loud noises, blood, viscera… None of that got to her. The cold vacuum of space was another matter entirely. Her bright hazel eyes briefly welled with tears before Gale sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes.

  Lahm stepped to her side and laid a hand on Gale’s shoulder. The older woman relaxed a bit and lightly squeezed Lahm’s hand with a small smile.

  “I know this is a scary set of circumstances…” Micah said before he looked to Garreous and Remy. Both nodded to him and Micah pressed forward after he held then released a deep breath. “But we have a plan. We’ve explored all possible automated options for repair of the oxygen line and nothing practical occurred to any of us.”

  The reality of where Micah was headed began to settle in on the group and a somber air fell over the room.

  “We’ll need someone to go for a walk…” Micah said. The spacewalk portion of their training was a challenge for nearly everyone, especially when the simulations involved a repair of any complex system. “Repair the break in the line and patch the hull after you shove her guts back inside the ship. We believe the entire process will require the repairer to be outside the ship for about thirty minutes.”

  Another gasp came from the crew, this time from Aquis. He recalled their spacewalk training and the toll walks longer than fifteen minutes took on everyone else on the ship. Aquis was able to last much longer outside the ship than most, upwards of twenty-five minutes before he lost consciousness.

  “I can do it.” Aquis pushed off the wall and stepped toward the middle of the room. “I’ll do it, Mike.”

  “Aquis, you were our first choice.” Micah met the giant Ceran in the center of the room and reached up to place a hand on his shoulder. Micah squeezed lightly as a sad look befell his face. “Show me your hands.”

  “They—” Aquis held up his massive hands, unsure of Micah’s intent. Surely, they were strong enough for whatever task this repair mission required.

  “They’re perfect for many tasks, my friend.” Micah said as he dropped his hand from Aquis’s shoulder. “But in the gloves of your suit, they’re too big for the more intricate work the repair requires…”

  “I can…” Aquis said quickly. Without really thinking through his words, he
struggled to justify taking the risk of the spacewalk on himself… “I—”

  “A, you can have the next life-threatening mission…” Wes said as he came to Aquis’s side. “I’ll take this one.”

  “Wes…” Micah looked at his closest friend as he had looked at Aquis earlier. “Can’t be you either…” Micah held his hands up and Wes briefly did the same before disappointment made him fall silent.

  Both Aquis and Wes stepped back to their place near the wall and briefly exchanged saddened but encouraging looks. A quick fist-bump later, both waited for Micah’s next words.

  Sanballat spoke instead.

  “So, Copy…” Sanballat lazily gestured to Wes and Aquis. “Both your goons are out as this flying can’s repairman. Do we draw straws now?”

  Micah stepped toward the Courtier and took a deep breath before he replied. Micah met Sanballat’s eyes and stared into them until the Ceran broke away. “No.” He said with complete conviction. “Doing something like this… It has to be a choice.”

  Sanballat laughed with cool cruelty.

  “Surely, you can’t expect anyone on this ship to—“

  “I’ll do it.” A deep voice spoke from the opposite side of the room and cut Sanballat off. Tobiah stepped to the middle of the room and stood beside Micah. “My hands are nowhere near the size of theirs,” Tobiah gestured to Wes and Aquis with a teasing smile. “Additionally, last I knew, the oxygen recycling system falls under my purview, does it not?”

  Micah nodded to the Barrister, slowly. “It does.”

  “Tobiah, this is madness… You’re—”

  “I’m what, Sanballat? The ship’s only lawyer?” Tobiah laughed. He held both arms out wide and lifted his eyes to the steel ceiling. “Of course! Ahma, preserve the life of the litigator!” Tobiah’s deep voice danced a little in a rare display of self-deprecating humor. “I wasn’t aware a career as a jurist insulated me from dangerous tasks on an interstellar mission to better the lives of everyone involved.”