Ghosts of the Vale

by Paul Grover

  You see her in everyone Thorn. You really have fallen this time.

  “What happened?” Shannon asked, wiping blood from her hands.

  “Just after you left that ugly bastard showed up. He was walking around the bay like he was some kind of Billy Big Bollocks. He fought with Vic and cut him up really bad. I blew his fucking head off,” she said, smugly.

  She sounds like me at that age. Mira thought as she taped the dressing in place.

  Rybov groaned and opened his organic eye. He gave a lop-sided smile. “You look like shit, Thorn.”

  “Good to see you, Vic. I thought we could have that drink.”

  He tried to stagger to his feet. Mira made him sit while she finished dressing his arm wound.

  “He cut you to kill you,” she said.

  Rybov grunted.

  “Ever the professional. I couldn’t hurt him. It took the Plasma cannon to floor him.”

  “He healed himself?”

  Rybov snorted.

  “Never seen shit like that before,” Rybov said. He reached for the rolled cigarette and gestured to his armour. Shannon followed his gaze, pulled out a lighter and lit his smoke.

  Mira checked her hands. They were almost fully healed, then she glanced at Manson’s body. Was he host to a Pharn entity as she was?

  At least I can still die, she thought and shivered, thinking of how she had leapt into the conveyor chute. There was a perverse comfort in knowing she was still mortal.

  “Vic, our ship is on the far side of the station. Can you give us a lift over when you’re ready?” Shannon asked.

  “Sure thing, Superstar. You want to travel inside or outside this time?” His voice was weak, but carried good humour.

  “Inside is fine with me,” Shannon replied.

  Rybov indicated his intent to stand. Mira and Shannon helped him to his feet. He turned to Sofi.

  “I told you to stay in the life pod,” he said. “And where did you find that cannon?”

  “In the armoury. I memorised the code when I saw you use it. You could at least say thank you,” she replied

  “Yeah, thanks kid, I guess.”

  Sofi gave him a satisfied smile.

  “How did you learn to use it?” Mira asked.

  “I read the manual. I’m a quick learner,” the kid replied with a grin. Sofi was cocky and smart enough to back it up. “You need to take things easy, Vic. I won’t always be around to save your arse.”

  Rybov turned away. There was a certain affection in his eye as his ravaged face tried to hold back a smile.

  “Tidy this stuff up and get aboard.” He turned to Mira. “You up to flying this crate, Space Cadet?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get us into the black.”

  He gave her the unlocking card. “Get her started while Superstar straps me in. Never tell anyone about this. I have a reputation to keep.”

  Mira ran up the ramp and onto the flight deck, slipped into the pilot’s seat and powered up the ship. She wrinkled her nose. The flight deck had curious stale and sweaty smell. She laughed when she realised it was her rather than the ship.

  She called up Traffic and despite the congested departure pattern was granted permission to depart almost immediately. The controller was eager to tell her the station was open for business as usual.

  Just another day on the Frontier…

  Manson coughed the last of the fluid from his lungs and shivered in the cold air of the chamber. The lights came up and forced him to blink. His body was a temple of pain. He continued to shake as he re-lived his death.

  As his life ended he had floated free to become one with something bigger than the world he knew. The peace of the void had been denied to him as death released its cold grip and spat his consciousness back into a body of flesh and blood. His birth had been a traumatic rush of sensation into a body cursed with raw, unchecked emotion. Cold, pain and fear became his reality; rage pulled him through it.

  He cried out. All he heard was laughter.

  Manson calmed himself. The room was featureless, with dark walls and concealed lighting. Legion stood in front of him, resting on his cane, an amused expression on his face.

  “Where am I?” Manson rasped. Bile burned in his throat.

  “Welcome to the Vale, Mr Manson. I would like to tell you the first death is always the worst, but that would be a lie. Death and birth are painful bookends to our lives. They are meant to be so.”

  Manson stood. He found a one piece coverall and dressed.

  “You see Karl, death can only be a learning experience if you first learn how painful the re-creation process is. If we make it easy and painless, you will no longer fear it. Fear is a strong motivator for the living. All life is fear. We seek security because we fear the unknown. We seek faith because we fear death. The emotion we call love is just the fear of loneliness.”

  Manson snorted.

  “You are creepy as shit,” he said. “No offence.”

  “None taken, Karl,” Legion replied. His tone was good natured.

  “So what is this place… where is this place.”

  “You are somewhere no human has ever seen: a place of immense power. We will explain in time.”

  “And until then?”

  “Take a break, Karl. You failed in your mission; so we have other plans.”

  Karl Manson did not do failure.

  “Let me get back at Rybov. I’ll get you what you want.”

  Legion sighed. He snapped his fingers and Manson’s body lit up with electrical energy.

  “This is not about your vendetta with Vic Rybov, Karl. You let it cloud your judgement and you failed because of it.”

  Manson bit down and roared through gritted teeth. He fell to his knees and glared defiantly at Legion until the pain stopped.

  A silence fell between them.

  “Karl, rest. We have work for you, just not yet. Vic Rybov is irrelevant. Your time will come. Meyer will be in possession of the information Rybov is carrying by the end of the day. That battle has been fought and lost. We move on. The wheel is turning. Thorn is coming. I need you to ensure she arrives intact.”

  Manson glared at him.

  “Come with me, Karl.”

  The old man led him through a tunnel formed from black interwoven fronds of a material he did not recognise. Dim light came from behind the weave.

  “Where are we?”

  “This place is called a node. It is a source of power for… others like me only… different.”

  Manson snorted. “Your enemies?”

  Legion paused in thought. “Our brethren. Now is not the time for explanation. We have to prepare for guests.”

  Legion led him to a wide circular room. In the centre was a raised platform with a heavy plinth. It was formed with black tendrils and reminded Manson of a pillar wrapped in snakes.

  Legion tapped his cane twice and the domed ceiling shook and opened like the iris of a giant eye.

  A yellow white star occupied the centre of the dome.

  “A main sequence dwarf? What’s so special about that?”

  Legion continued to look up, his face bathed in starlight. “Our home.”

  Legion turned and walked to a bench; he beckoned for Manson to join him.

  “We are inside a facility built around 12,000 of your years ago. It was built by a species called the Pharn. They constructed it to harvest energy from that star. In doing so they trapped the last of my people here.” He paused. “Some of us escaped from a similar facility around the star humans call KIC 8462852. You may know it as Tabby’s Star.”

  “This is a Dyson Sphere?”

  “That is the human description. The Pharn use the energy they harvest to sustain their cloud of consciousness. For my people it is their prison; we - you and I - are working to free them. Thorn will play her part in that endeavour.”

  As he watched two vessels streaked past the viewing window, too distant to make out details.

  “Your people are here? How can they su
rvive? The radiation should fry them.”

  “We adapted. When The Pharn left this galaxy we inherited their technology.” He paused and changed the subject. “Earlier I was harsh. Your mission was not a total failure. There is one person who can open this facility… your friend Thorn. She knows of it and has reason to come here.”

  “You're sure of that?”

  “We planned it. From the moment she was reborn on Arethon she had the ability to activate this facility. She thinks the cube will destroy us, but it will be her undoing.”

  Manson shrugged.

  “So what now?”

  “We wait Karl and we take the time to enjoy this place. Even I find objects of marvel here. For you it is a time to rest.”

  Legion gestured for him to follow and led him through a maze of dark corridors. A seamless door opened into a room containing basic furniture and a bed.

  “Please.” Legion motioned for Manson to enter.

  “Wait,” Manson said. “I have questions.”

  Legion cast his gaze over him. His eyes were grey, the whites tinged with yellow. Manson could detect a faint odour coming off the old man, barely detectable but putrid.

  “I will indulge you.”

  Manson mentally prioritised his questions.

  “How did I get here? What happens when I die?”

  Legion sighed.

  “I will keep this as simple as I can. After your death your consciousness passed through a…ah… portal is the best word. It was downloaded to our pattern buffer. Our machinery created a new body and your mind entered it.”

  “Will it happen every time I die?”

  “So long as we have a use for you.”

  “And Thorn?”

  “She is of no consequence. She is the pawn of our rivals. She is not the same as you. She is a clone of her old self; you are something different. She can die, you cannot.”

  “Why do I only see you?”

  Legion’s face shimmered, as if Manson were flicking through a book of mugshots. Legion’s shape shifted into alien faces Manson had never seen. Sometimes a human face would flicker for a nanosecond; Legion staggered as if worn out by the process.

  “I am one and I am all. We have become Blackened.” His voice was a reverent whisper.

  The door slid closed. Manson stood for a moment.

  None of this makes any fucking sense.

  He lay on the bed, gripped by tiredness. Karl Manson closed his eyes; darkness and nightmares became his companions.

  Eden’s Revenge left the bay and joined the departure queue. The short-range sensor display lit up with debris alerts. Most of it was small but the anti-collision system still flagged three large pieces moving chaotically in the station’s microgravity field.

  Mira opened a secure channel to the Second Chance.

  “Tish, we are on board a ship called Eden’s Revenge; Vic Rybov is with us. Can you depart and meet us in a low orbit around the gas giant?”

  “Read you Mira. We’ll see you there. I missed you. We are being refuelled and re-aired. Jay, the parts guy, pulled some strings. I paid him double. I’ve not fixed the engines. I can do that later.”

  Mira acknowledged and was about to sign off when a thought occurred to her.

  “Tish, how much damage was there to the station?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  “The explosion wiped out 12 decks of a secondary commercial sector,” Tish replied. “No additional casualties reported. The station authorities had a good evacuation plan in place. I hacked the comms chatter. Their insurance claim has already been approved.”

  Mira breathed a sigh of relief and closed the link. She put the events of the past few hours out of her mind as she flew the Revenge to the rendezvous point.

  Shannon came onto the deck and stood behind her.

  The unnamed gas giant grew until it filled the upper half of the viewport with its oceans of cloud. Streaks of red raced across the yellow cloud tops, giant storm systems raged within them. It reminded her of Jupiter. She trimmed the Revenge for a parking orbit and set the autopilot to maintain it.

  Shannon moved closer and gazed at the giant world as one of the system’s stars rose over the horizon, flooding the flight deck with warm yellow light.

  “I see why you do this,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful out here. There is a certain peace you can’t find on Earth. Us planet dwellers don’t understand it… until we experience it.”

  Shannon was right yet it did little to diminish the isolation of these far-flung reaches of the galaxy. Mira thought of all the years she had spent cutting herself off from humanity and now all she wanted was to be surrounded by the chaotic beauty of other humans.

  Or one beautiful, chaotic human.

  They completed three orbits. Shannon slipped into the copilot’s chair and watched each sunrise with wonder in her eyes. On the fourth orbit the NaviComp pinged.

  Ahead of them the Second Chance came into visual range; Mira fought back a tear as she approached the stern of the freighter. As the ships closed, she took over from the autopilot and brought Eden’s Revenge in on the starboard airlock. She extended the docking tube and, once the ships were mated, she pressurised the connection.

  A faint smile ghosted across Mira's pale, grime-streaked face.

  “I’m home,” she whispered.

  She stood as casually as she could and headed aft. Sofi was already waiting by the airlock.

  “You go first Mira,” Shannon said as the door slid up.

  The door on the other side of the corridor opened and Tish stood silhouetted against the airlock’s lights; they glistened off her black synth leather jeans.

  Mira ran to her and kissed her. It was passionate and unselfconscious.

  “I’m sorry, Tish.”

  Tish held her. “I love you, Thorn, even if you stink,” she whispered.

  “I don’t… yeah I kinda do.”

  Mira went quiet as the others joined them. Shannon introduced Sofi. Barnes hovered in the corridor. He tipped a Corps salute; a vestige of his personality shone through.

  “Rich, can you take Vic to med-bay, get him comfortable?” Tish said. Mira loved the quiet authority in her voice, her easy way of managing people.

  She’s the one who will win this war… not me, she thought.

  Shannon was last through the airlock.

  Fatigue caught up with Mira. Her limbs were tired and heavy. Pain pounded like a sledgehammer in her head.

  “Tish, I have seen a lot weird shit today. Right now I need to get cleaned up.” She remembered the visor and tossed it to Tish.

  “That may have recorded some of it.”

  Tish twirled the visor.

  “Shannon, I can see you’re hiding an injury so head down to medbay. See Rich, he can do the basics. If not there is an expert system that can do everything up to basic surgery.”

  Tish would have been a good Naval officer if she had been dealt a better hand.

  “I’ll make sure this stinky creature gets cleaned up,” Tish added.

  Shannon smirked. “And the rest.”

  Tish blushed and dragged Mira away, pausing long enough to tip Shannon a wink.

  Tish tiptoed along the corridor. The deck cold beneath her bare feet. She pulled her robe around her, it was short, transparent and brought little warmth.

  She opened the door to the galley and stepped in, then promptly stepped back.

  “Sorry!” she said. Ben and Sofi sat on stools next to the counter. Her cheeks burned. She hated it when that happened as it turned her skin blotchy pink. Ben jokingly covered the kid’s eyes; she shook him off and he covered his own. Tish pulled the robe tighter, making it ride up further.

  “I just came to…” She grabbed two bottles of Belt King from the cooler. “Get these, sorry.”

  “Don’t mind me,” the girl said, through a mouthful of fries. “I lived in a whore house. You’re a little overdressed. I like your hair. You look like Marie.”

  The gene fo
r red hair and pale skin had all but died out on Earth. Although more common on the Frontier it was considered a rare and distinctive characteristic in humans.

  “Is Marie your friend?” Tish asked.

  “She ran the place where I lived on Corso. You could be sisters. She was kind. I miss her.”

  “I’ve never been to Corso…”

  “You ain’t missing much, Ginge,” the girl replied, turning back to her fries.

  “I hope you are not feeding Sofi too much junk food, Ben Jones,” Tish said, in a very passable imitation of Monica Garret's stern voice.

  “No Ma’am,” he replied from behind his palms. “Can you go back to your cabin now? I want to uncover my eyes.”

  Tish backed out of the galley, heading toward the stateroom. It was the most relaxed she had seen the young man since she met him in the stadium.

  We're all healing, becoming new people because of what we saw and who we met. Thank you Zoe, for saving me.

  “Ginge… no one has called me that in a long time,” she said to no one.

  The door slid open. Mira was removing a data core from the pocket of her soiled jeans.

  She was dressed in a towel robe. She tossed her jeans into the waste chute.

  “What’s that?” Tish asked.

  “It’s the data core. I took it from the Torrence. It’s encrypted; can you break into it?”

  “Is Xander full of shit?” Tish asked “Of course I can. Leave it on the side; I’ll bust it open tomorrow.”

  Tish gave Mira a bottle.

  “Thanks Tish,” Mira held her bottle out and Tish clinked hers against it.

  “So…” Tish said. “How tired are you? Are we talking bed for sleep or bed for fun?”

  Mira blushed. Tish knew how to throw her off guard, break through and see the real Mira Thorn.

  “You have such a way with words…”

  “I do. While you were off the ship, I got a taste for authority; so tonight it’s Tish in charge.”

  Mira stuck her tongue out.

  Tish slipped off her robe.

  “Don’t point that thing at me unless you intend to use it,” she giggled, unable to keep the act up, and pulled Mira to the bed.

  “You should have seen the look on Ben’s face when I walked into the galley. He went the same colour you just did.”