Refuge in the Stars

by Tim Marquitz

  “I have information regarding another contact on the planet Bolot, but it is several days’ journey from here. This contact will have what I need.”

  Taj groaned. “You mean, as opposed to the last one who sold you out and nearly got us all killed.” She poked a thumb in the general direction of the ship’s aft. “For that matter, might still get us killed seeing how we have three pirate ships on our tail. It’s not like we’re gonna lose them any time soon.”

  “I apologize for the previous snafu, but I hullabaloo this next effort will turn out differently.”

  “I’m having a hard time believing that, Dent,” Taj answered. “And why didn’t we just travel to Bolot to begin with? Wouldn’t that have saved us all a lot of grief?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head. “My first mistake was informing Pandu of what I hold inside my head, believing I could trust the being who held the key to the whole of Dandrinite existence. My second was letting him know where I resided and then, after I was chased off Speritu, that I was on my way to Kulora to see him.” The mechanoid groaned, which sounded more like a leaky pipe giving way. “I see now that Pandu was the reason the Terants found me in the first place, and he was how they knew where to find me in space.”

  “All that’s good to know in hindsight, but how does that apply to your contact on Bolot?”

  “It is relevant because this other contact I’m referring to has no knowledge of what my mind contains, does not understand the key he holds, and he does not know to expect us,” Dent said. “Thus, he will not know to prepare an ambush for us, if he were to be so inclined. The key has no value to him that he comprehends.”

  Taj sat there a moment, saying nothing. As much as they needed the supplies and money, assisting Dent again was going to put them in even more danger. She shook her head. The crew wouldn’t like it.

  With three pirate ships shadowing them, there was no chance they’d reach Bolot without all of Rath’s men knowing where the pirate boss was. There was no doubt in her mind that they would come running to rescue him the first chance they got.

  Worse still, whoever he was working with was an unknown. Taj had no clue what force they could muster, or how or when it would present itself.

  Still, given their lack of options, she found herself in the same situation they’d been in ever since leaving Krawlas behind.

  Even if she dumped the pirate boss and Dent out an airlock, she couldn’t picture Rath’s men stopping their vendetta against Taj and her people. In fact, that would only make things worse seeing how the pirates would no longer need to hold back. And with the ship so overcrowded, there was no chance they could outrun the pirates forever if they were determined to catch up.

  Not that they had to wait long for their retribution. Another couple of weeks and all the Discordant’s passengers would be dead of starvation anyway, whether the Terants caught up to them or not.

  “Gack it,” she mumbled under her breath, “We have nothing to lose but everything. Why not?” She clambered to her feet, dragging Dent with her. “Come on,” she told him. “You need to provide Lina with coordinates so we can find this Bolot planet of yours. Can you do that?”

  “I can indeed,” he replied, letting her pull him to his feet. “Such information is stored independently of the rest, allowing me perfect recall of it.”

  Torbon, who’d been quiet the entire conversation, asked, “Hey, can I have his ration? He doesn’t really need it, right?”

  Taj chuckled as she and Dent started off toward the bridge. “He doesn’t get one, Torbon, but you can have mine,” she said.

  Truth was, if that one ration meant all that much, then they were already in too deep to come back. What did one meal matter at that point?

  Besides, just the thought of that chewy protein bar made her sick to her stomach. If she never ate one again, it’d be too soon.

  On the bridge, Taj took Dent over to Lina and S’thlor. The engineer stared uncertainly at the mechanoid. The seeds of mistrust had already been sown.

  “What’s this?” Lina asked.

  “I need you to plot a new course,” Taj told her, “with Dent’s help.”

  “One ambush isn’t enough?” Lina asked. “Maybe we can work in a few more before the day’s over.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have the same problem this time around,” Taj answered.

  “No, probably not.” Lina tapped a button on the console and the view screen lit up with an image of the three pirate ships following them. “I’m sure it’s gonna be worse.”

  “Set the course,” she ordered. “It really doesn’t matter if we make our final stand here or on Bolot, does it?”

  Lina grunted. “Guess not.” She shifted her gaze to the mechanoid. “So, why are we carting you all over the galaxy again?”

  “I need to claim the device my masters provided these particular contacts,” he answered.

  “And that device is?” Lina, ever-excited by new bits and baubles of technology, leaned in close to hear Dent’s answer.

  “A proto-stimdrive,” he told her. “Its purpose is to reorganize my databases and assimilate memory access by realigning my synapses into their correct order.”

  Lina stared at the mechanoid for a few silent moments, making Taj think the queen had slipped away mentally, when she slapped the console and burst into raucous laughter. “Wait!” Tears streamed down her face. “Are you kidding me?”

  Oblivious to what was so funny, Taj raised her hands in question. “What are you going on about?”

  Lina pointed at Dent. “The `droid needs a gacking defrag,” she said, barely able to get the words out between fits of laughter.

  “I assure you,” Dent said, stiffening, “it is far more complicated than that.”

  “If you say so,” Lina replied, still chuckling as she wiped her eyes away with the back of her hand. “We’re flying across the universe, pirates shooting at us, lizard aliens hunting us down, all for a defragmentation program.” She shook her head but couldn’t stop the giggles spilling loose. “We better not die doing this or I’m gonna be so very pissed.” Taj couldn’t even picture Lina being angry while spurts of laughter were bursting from her.

  Taj sighed. “Set the coordinates, Lina. We can worry about the specifics of what he needs later.”

  “He needs a defrag,” she said. “I already told you.”

  Taj glared at Lina until she finally managed to pull herself together. “Fine, keep laughing if you have to, but set the gacking course.”

  Lina offered a lazy salute, which did nothing to distract from the toothy grin on her face, a muffled chuckle continuing to spill from her.

  Unwilling to listen to Lina any longer, Taj marched off the bridge and weaved her way down the hall the best she could, avoiding the camped-out Furlorians huddled everywhere.

  Before she made it down and around a few corridors, she heard her name being called. She stopped and turned, catching sight of Gran Em and Grady coming toward her, purpose in their elderly steps.

  She groaned under her breath. On the long list of things she didn’t want to deal with, seeing either of those two were near the top.

  “Taj,” Em called out again. “We need to speak with you.”

  Of course you do. “What can I do for you, Gran Em? Grady?” she asked, forcing herself to be conciliatory.

  “We’d like to speak to you about what you have planned for our people,” Gran Em started, stepping up close to Taj, leaving her no room to escape.

  “You nearly got them killed on that last planet,” Grady said, not bothering to sugarcoat his approach like Em had. “Pirates and lizards shooting all over the place, gack near taking us all out.” He shook his head, his cheek swelling as he poked his wad of nip with his tongue. “Now, we got three of them pirates ships on our tail. No matter where we end up, they’re going to follow us right along. How do you think that’s going to work out, huh?”

  “What Grady is trying to say—” Gran Em started to say before
Grady cut her off, clearly not willing to allow Em to soften their stance.

  “Don’t be going and putting words in my mouth, woman,” he cursed. “I said what I meant.”

  “Look, Grady, Em, I understand your concern, but—”

  “Do you now, girl?” Grady told her, stepping forward to be right in her face. “Just `cause Beaux and Merr had a soft spot for ya, it sure as gack don’t mean we need to follow orders from you.”

  He poked a thick finger at her chest. Taj bit back the urge to break it.

  “Their blessing sure don’t mean you know a gacking thing about leading our people. You got us running all over creation, putting us at risk at every turn. That ain’t how you lead, girl. That’s how you get us killed.”

  “Grady!” Gran Em warned, but Grady waved her off.

  “No, this little girl needs to know what she’s getting us into,” he went on. “Right now, she ain’t done nothing but—”

  Unable to restrain herself, Taj batted his stubby hand away from her and leaned into his face, breathing out hard to keep from smelling the foul stink of old nip.

  “No,” she shouted, setting his gray whiskers to wiggling. “You listen to me, Grady. I don’t care how old you are or what kind of experience you think you have that makes you better than me, but if Gran Beaux and Mama felt you were the best choice for leader, they sure as gacking well would have chosen you then.”

  Grinning while she did it, she poked her own finger into his chest, driving him back a step.

  “But since they didn’t choose you, it’s my responsibility to take care of everyone as I see fit. And right now, us running across the universe is our only chance of surviving, not that you would know since I haven’t once seen you on the bridge trying to learn the details of our situation or what we’re facing.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “And if it turns out I’m wrong then, well, I guess you can swoop in and pick up the pieces and look like the hero you want to be.” She snorted, waving the old Tom away. “Until then, stay out of my way, and stay out of my face.”

  Taj spun on her heel and marched off, a low, warning hiss trailing from her.

  “Taj, please,” Gran Em called out to her, but Taj didn’t so much as acknowledge the queen’s attempt.

  It irked her that Em let Grady get in her face, that she let him demand answers when he hadn’t done anything more than antagonize her and her crew ever since the Wyyvans arrived on Krawlas. He hadn’t put any effort into helping their cause, but he sure seemed to know what was needed.

  Too bad he couldn’t be bothered to do it.

  No, Taj and her crew and the others were the ones on the front line, making the decisions no one else had stepped up to make. Not the remaining Grans or Grady.

  Yeah, maybe Taj was inexperienced, green in a lot of ways. She could admit that, not only to them but, more importantly, to herself. Yet, despite it all, even if her every decision hadn’t been the perfect one, they’d worked out in the end because she’d fought to make them work. She had friends and family supporting her. That’s what made good leaders. Not those who took pot shots from the cheap seats.

  Their life wasn’t black and white as Grady had implied. It was colored with more shades of gray than Taj could contemplate. And it would remain so as long as they were on the run and forced to make the hard choices only a few of her people had ever had to make.

  At the end of the day, her models for success were the Beauxs and Mamas of the world, not the Gradys. The latter had sacrificed everything for their people, pulled them from the fires of Felinus 4 and dragged them across the universe to what they’d believed was a safe haven for Furlorians.

  And it had been…for a while.

  But that was life. It happened whether you were ready or not. Mama and Beaux had stood up when they’d needed to, and they’d passed the torch when they couldn’t any longer.

  Now it was Taj’s time to walk in their footsteps, and she sure as gack would do her best, rising to meet the challenges to come and conquering them as Beaux and Mama hoped she would.

  She would shine and make them proud.

  Dent, the strange little AI trapped in a broken body, was the answer to their problems. No matter the baggage that came with him, the trouble, the danger, he held the key to their immediate future.

  They could worry about the distant future later, when there was time to sit down and deliberate and discuss and question. But right now, there was only one option before them that made any sense.

  And if anyone asked her if she was sure, her answer would be: “You’re gacking right I’m sure.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Three days later, the Discordant approached the planet Bolot.

  An ice planet, the surface gleamed with reflected light, so much so that Taj had to dim the view screen to keep her from being blinded.

  Icy continents appeared to merge with frigid oceans, very little standing out to identify which was which save for a slightly ragged edge of lighter colors. If it wasn’t for the ship’s scanners, Lina poring over the details with a sharp eye and reporting them, Taj would have struggled to define much of anything along the planet’s surface.

  “It’s kind of pretty, in a frosty sort of way,” Lina noted. “Must be gacking cold, though. Would hate to live here.”

  “It’s an excellent place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to die here,” Torbon muttered in reply.

  Taj grinned, but she knew, just like Kulora, there was always the chance they would get stuck on Bolot’s icy surface if things didn’t work out.

  To Taj, that was simply more motivation to make sure things did.

  She pulled her gaze from the shimmering view screen and glanced over at Dent. “Hope your contact is still here,” she stated.

  “As do I,” he muttered in reply, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I suppose we will find out soon enough.” She was certain she’d spied a glistening moisture at his eyes as he cast a furtive glance in her direction.

  As she had been a number of times, Taj was surprised by how sentient Dent acted. She wondered how much of that was the real him shining through as compared to what his masters had programmed into him.

  Is there even a difference at this point?

  She suspected there wasn’t, experience having had as much an impact on Dent’s personality as his original programming. He’d lived a real life and learned that not everything was so simple as running a program and determining an outcome.

  Life came with variables even the greatest of programmers couldn’t foresee.

  “Coordinates plugged in,” Lina called out, interrupting Taj’s thoughts. “We’re aimed at the city of Wole, near the northern hemisphere, where Dent has directed us. It looks…remote.”

  “What about our followers?” Taj asked.

  “They’re still a distance back, but like you said, there’s no real way to shake them in open space. They’ll know we’ve alighted on the planet soon, seeing how there isn’t anything else out this way. Won’t take long after that to pinpoint our exact location.”

  “Can’t be helped,” Taj told the engineer. “Though, this time, we’re gonna be smart about this.”

  “As opposed to every other time, huh?” Lina asked, a smirk brightening her lips.

  “Had to start eventually, right?”

  Cabe chuckled in his seat, wisely not offering a reply to Taj’s rhetorical question. Torbon, however…

  “Why ruin a perfect streak now?” he asked. “I say we stumble through everything like usual and hope gack will work out for the best. Change is confusing.”

  Taj groaned, causing Cabe to laugh even harder.

  “Then it’s decided,” Lina announced. “We’re sending Torbon out first to see if we can survive the frigid weather and solve all our problems with pure, dumb luck. Emphasis on dumb.”

  He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Sounds…cold.”

  “Both in reality and intent,” Cabe confirmed, still laughing.

  “Why don’t
we send Dent out there first?” Torbon asked. “He’s a mechanoid. It’s not as if the cold bothers him. I have delicate fur.”

  Taj kept her mouth shut regarding Torbon’s suggestion and hoped the others did as well. While Dent seemed friendly, and they’d gotten used to him being around, there was still an uncertainty regarding him. Right now, he needed them. But when he fixed his head, would he still need them? Would he stick around to offer them the return assistance they needed?

  She had to believe he would. She had to have faith, though not in Rowl or the world or some supposed belief in the good winning out in the end, but herself. She believed in herself.

  That would lead them through.

  “How about we not throw anyone out in the cold, huh?” she said, derailing Torbon’s loaded question before it could build momentum inside people’s heads. “How much longer until we’re there?” she asked Lina.

  “Few more minutes.”

  “Okay, then let’s get ready to move. With those pirates on our tail, likely to show up sooner than expected, we need to make this quick.”

  “What about Rath?” Cabe asked. “We leaving him onboard?”

  Taj nodded. “Probably best to keep him locked up and out of sight. We drag him with us, it makes us more of a target. With him on the ship, we can still use him as leverage if we run into trouble, his crew having no clear certainty as to where he’s at or what his situation is.”

  “Only if the pirates can’t jam our comms like the Wyyvans have been doing,” Cabe complained. “If they can, we’re gacked.”

  Lina grinned. “Not exactly,” she said. “I’ve got something worked up for exactly that scenario, Cabe.”

  She fiddled around with her console, tapping away at the keys and asking questions of S’thlor for clarification. The alien sat at her side, calling out symbols, but Taj noted how smooth Lina’s work was. She was getting a handle on the controls.

  “There! All set, the program’s running.” She tapped the side of her head. “From now on, the comms will alternate frequencies, skipping across the spectrum in bursts to make it harder for anyone to identify or block them.”