New Horizon (The Survivors Book Nine)

by Nathan Hystad

  The massive exploration ship smoothly transferred to the hyperdrive, and stars stretched all around us through the viewer.

  “Very good. Dubs, how long until we reach our destination?” Magnus asked. I was fully confident he already had this information, and that he was asking for the benefit of everyone else on board.

  “Eight days, twelve hours…”

  “Very good,” Magnus said, and he crossed the bridge, heading for Mary and me with Natalia beside him. His voice lost its bluster, and he whispered now. “What did you think?”

  I chuckled. “I think this is pretty amazing. It’s like being on a TV show. You’ve picked a good crew here,” I told him, and he puffed up slightly.

  Natalia patted her husband’s arm. “Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has. He’s struggling to fit through our bedroom door.”

  Magnus’ smile disappeared. “We’ll talk later?”

  “Sure. We’ll talk later,” I told him, and Natalia left with us. I tapped Slate’s shoulder on the way out, and soon the three of us were heading for the school.

  It was on the top level, with a balcony overlooking the garden courtyard. Even from there, you could smell the fresh greenery. It was a lot nicer than the decrepit Ohio country grade school I’d gone to, and I’d told Jules so the day before when she complained about taking classes.

  We entered the classroom, and kids sat at their desks, each with a built-in screen and keypad. Books were mostly a thing of the past out here in space, and I was a little sad Jules wasn’t going to grow up reading paperbacks and having physical textbooks. There were benefits to the new technology, and they far outweighed the old, but I was nostalgic about the things I had as a child.

  The final manifest said the Horizon held three hundred and seventy people, and forty-three of them were children of varying ages. It was so strange to see, but there were small Padlogs, one of them still in larval stages. I was told it would become something akin to a butterfly humanoid one day, but not for the first six years.

  Now it was a green caterpillar creature with a squished face and two skinny arms. Jules sat beside the Padlog, and she was talking with him, each of them needing a translator. She was pointing to something on his desk screen, and my heart melted at my daughter’s interactions with the alien child.

  Little Dean was at the other side of the room with the older kids. An energy barrier separated the two parts of the class, one that would allow them to pass through but would restrict sound. Suma stood at the front of that class, and she was pointing to complex mathematical equations on a wall screen. Dean appeared bored.

  “I hope he can grasp these lessons,” Natalia said.

  “He’s smart. He’ll be fine. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that you know the teacher. Suma will help him, I’m sure of it,” Mary assured her friend.

  Patty was on the other side of Jules: a year older, but they were in the same lessons for the time being. A Bhlat child raised her hand at the front of the class, and she asked something in English. “Why do we have to talk in your language?” She looked about five years old, if she were human, and she had short braids. She glanced over at us, and her eyes danced like the Empress’. Not all of the Bhlat had those galaxy eyes, but this one did; molten lava telling me she might be related to the Bhlat leader.

  The instructor was a rail-thin man around my age. His name was Wade Truman, and he used to be a teacher on Earth. He’d been the most qualified person that had volunteered for the position, so he’d been selected.

  “Well, Onud, we’ll be speaking all of our Alliance languages throughout the course of the school year. This month, it’s English, and next we’re speaking Shimmali,” Mr. Truman told the student.

  A petite Shimmali kid let out a squawk I understood to mean something like “awesome.” He was so tiny, a miniature version of Sarlun, with his bald head and thin snout hanging over his mouth. His legs didn’t reach the floor from his seat, and he kicked them repeatedly.

  Suma caught my eye from across the barrier, and I gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled and continued teaching. As much as it looked like she was enjoying herself, I knew she had bigger aspirations than teaching our children onboard the ship. She’d have every opportunity in life; that much was clear.

  “Shall we?” I asked, motioning to the door. We’d only wanted to stop by and wish the kids luck on their first day, but they seem to have acclimated just fine. We waved to Wade and crept out the door. I didn’t think Jules even noticed we’d been there.

  Natalia crossed the balcony, leaning against the railing. We joined her, and I took in the view. Above were the wide-spread glass ceiling panes, exposing the distant streaming stars as we cruised through space at unbelievable speeds. Below, we had the courtyard where off-duty crew members hung out.

  “Are you glad you’re doing this?” Mary asked her.

  “Da. Magnus loves it, and honestly, the kids do too,” Nat said.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  She turned, a sad expression on her face. “You remember my story, Dean. I’m happy to be alive. I’m glad to have a loving husband and two amazing children. Each day is a blessing.”

  I did remember, and it was hard to imagine Nat was even the same traumatized woman, refusing to speak when we’d first met her.

  “You’re right about that,” I said. I could smell coffee from here, and my stomach grumbled. “Anyone up for a cup of joe and a bagel?” I asked.

  “That sounds perfect,” Nat said. “Since I’m not really part of the crew, I’m unsure what I’m going to be doing most days. The kids are growing older, and they’re in school for five hours a day.”

  We took the elevator to the lower level of the courtyard and exited, stepping onto the hard stone floor. A few uniformed crew members nodded at us as we passed through, making for the café at the end of the huge room.

  “I hear you. Our accommodations are great, but we’re going to have to find something to fill our time,” Mary said.

  I hadn’t really considered that a problem. “When have we been able to relax since the Event? We’re always on the go, living from home to home, running around on missions we aren’t sure we’ll survive. Here, we have the chance to take it slower and be ourselves for a while. I, for one, will be doing some reading,” I told them.

  “Reading? Fiction?” Natalia asked as we stopped at the café. There were about ten tables set around the coffee bar, each with four seats, and we took one closest to the greenery.

  “Is that so surprising?” I asked.

  “I didn’t know anyone was still writing,” she admitted.

  We ordered coffees, and I noted there were at least five beverage options I’d never heard of, along with the Keppe version of bean water, which we’d been forced to endure for a short time. I elected to stay with the good old Earth blend.

  “There are lots of writers on New Spero these days and countless books from other worlds. Did you think humans were the only ones interested in escaping their humdrum reality on occasion?” I asked.

  Mary took over. “You’ll have to excuse Dean. He’s passionate about some things, and apparently, this is one of them.”

  Nat took a sip then blew on the top of her drink. “I guess I hadn’t really thought of it. Are you going to peruse some sweeping Kraski romance novels, then?”

  She meant it as a joke, but I still had a sore spot when it came to our old enemy’s name. Magnus and I had basically destroyed most of them, and Lom of Pleva had finished the job when he blew up the colony planet they’d settled on.

  “Dean, I didn’t mean anything…” Nat started, and I smiled at her.

  “Nat, don’t worry. And no, I like to think the Kraski were more into cookbooks,” I said, receiving a light laugh from the two ladies. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the little boys’ room.”

  Mary looked worried, but I met her gaze, letting her know I was fine.

  The bathrooms were across the courtyard, conveniently near the water feature.
A couple minutes later, I was heading out when I heard a hissing sound, and realized someone was trying to obtain my attention.

  “Psssst. Dean… pssst,” it said.

  I spun in a circle, searching for the source, and noticed movement behind the flowing waterfall. I marched toward it, wishing I was armed. But who would be on this ship that wanted to harm me?

  “Come out,” I said. The water rushing was loud here, drowning out my words. “Come out!” I said, louder now, and a figure emerged ten yards away.

  I squinted, trying to see who was coming toward me. It was dark over here, and water hung in the air like fat raindrops. “Keep coming,” I said.

  “No. They’re after me,” he said. The voice was vaguely familiar.

  “Who? Who’s after you?” I took a step forward and saw who it was.

  “The guards. I don’t know what gave me away, but they’re after me,” Sergo said.

  “Sergo, what are you doing here?” I couldn’t believe the Padlog thief was on Horizon.

  We met in the middle now, and I shook my head at him, frustrated with the man. His bulbous black eyes reflected a hundred versions of me, and I wondered how he saw things through them.

  “I… I needed a place to cool down. Things are hot out there, Dean,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

  “That’s because you keep stealing things, and that makes other people angry with you.” I said this slowly so he could comprehend each word.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t take what they can’t afford to lose,” he said.

  “Sure. You’re a real Robin Hood,” I told him.

  “Robin who?”

  “Never mind. How did you make it here?” I asked.

  “You know the Supreme visited, right?”

  I did. I’d met with him on the surface of Haven, but I didn’t tell Sergo that. “Go on.”

  “He came for a tour of Horizon, and I managed to sneak aboard his vessel. It really wasn’t that hard. I think the old guy has lost his edge…”

  “Sergo! Why are you on board, hiding behind a waterfall?” I was losing my patience, and my coffee was getting cold.

  “Right. After you sent me off to Volim, which, I have to say, was not a very nice thing to do… I thought we were friends,” Sergo said, trying to sound hurt.

  “Who ever said we were friends?” I asked.

  “Well… there was the time… okay, I guess we’re more like business partners,” he said.

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. Sergo was clearly delusional. “What did you do?”

  “What makes you think I did anything?”

  “You just said you needed things to cool down.” Talking with Sergo was frying my nerves.

  “I may have convinced the Supreme’s granddaughter to go out with me, and after a few dates, I borrowed some things from her,” Sergo said, innocently raising his hands.

  “What kind of things?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

  “You know… a jewel-encrusted crown, a few knickknacks… her maidenhood.” He said the last out of the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.

  “You borrowed her maidenhood?” I asked, raising my voice. Sergo was incredulous.

  His eyes darted around. “That one I didn’t borrow. She gave it to me most willingly, but it was also the same time old Gramps came over for a visit. It didn’t end well,” he said.

  “And somehow you escaped and snuck onto his ship, ending up on our exploratory vessel?”

  “Exactly. I was doing okay for the first week, but someone noticed I was sleeping in the cargo hold on floor eleven. And here I thought I was being cunning. They’re searching the ship as we speak, asking the other Padlog if they’ve seen me. It’s outrageous,” Sergo said.

  I’d thought, by ignoring his pleas to give him sanctuary after he’d stolen those Inlorian bars, that I’d never have to see him again. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Hide me. You’re Dean Parker. Aren’t you in charge of these… humans?” He said humans like the word was sour on his tongue.

  I did laugh now. “I’m not in charge of anyone. I can introduce you to the actual leader, though. Big guy, goes by the name Magnus, you may remember him,” I said, and his eyes went wide.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll take my chances here,” he said.

  “And why would I let you do that?” I asked.

  “Because we’re friends. Haven’t we been over this?”

  I was over it. “Fine. You stay in your hidey hole, and I’ll return to my life. Great seeing you. Hope we can catch up in another two years,” I said, not meaning it at all.

  “But, Parker, you can’t leave me. What am I going to eat? I’ll be a pitiful scavenger,” Sergo said, his voice imploring.

  “Let me think about it.” I turned and walked away, leaving him desperately whispering my name.

  I returned to the table, and Mary raised an eyebrow at me. I’d been gone a long time. I sat down and took a swallow of my now cooled coffee. “See that waterfall?”

  They nodded.

  “Sergo is behind it.”

  Five

  “What are we supposed to do with him?” Magnus asked me. We were in the belly of the ship, at a secure brig that only high-level crew members could access. Slate, Magnus, Loweck, and I stood down the hall from the cell that held Sergo.

  He was moaning from his new home, beseeching our compassion. “I can’t live like this. I’ll die down here!” he was shouting.

  “This guy’s giving me a headache, Dean,” Magnus said.

  “Remember, without him, we couldn’t have found Mary,” Slate said.

  “We could have. Plus, he tried to scam us. I don’t trust him,” I told them.

  “I thought the Padlog were our allies. Alliance of Worlds and all that stuff,” Loweck said. Her orange skin seemed brighter under the lighting.

  “They are, but that doesn’t mean the scummy thieves like Sergo are. They’re a great race, but we’ve been to the seedy underbelly of their capital. It’s not pretty. Drugs, drink, and fighting, and that was in our first ten minutes,” Magnus said. “But they do have that nectar…”

  “Magnus, focus. What are we doing with him?” I asked, hoping we could leave him there for a while to teach him a lesson.

  “We leave him here. Teach him a lesson,” Loweck said, mirroring my exact thoughts. She was part android, and I met her gaze, wondering if she’d somehow read my mind.

  “Good plan. Dean, want to give him the news?” Magnus asked.

  “I’d rather not,” I said, raising my hands in front of me.

  “I’ll do it. I’m in charge of security, after all, and he doesn’t know me.” Loweck left us, her boots clanging, echoing through the hallway floor toward the cell.

  “You guys really went all out. This is one hell of a brig. Expecting trouble?” I asked them.

  “I wasn’t taking any chances. Mutinies are real, as are altercations on board, especially for such a long mission, with races from around the universe working so intimately. We figured better safe than sorry,” Magnus said.

  “We’ve been gone from Haven for six hours, and we already have a tenant in the dungeon. Seems like it was a good idea,” Slate said.

  “No! You can’t leave me here!” Sergo yelled in anguish.

  “I guess she gave him the news.” Slate looked proud and beamed as Loweck returned.

  She wiped her hands in the air, signifying the task was done. “I’ve never seen a Padlog cry before. It’s not a pretty sight.”

  We turned and headed out of the brig, one less thing to concern ourselves with.

  ____________

  “Papa, where’s Patty?” Jules asked.

  “They’ll be here soon, honey. How was class today?” I asked my daughter.

  “Good. They taught us about the lifecycle of the Padlog. Roopi was embarrassed,” she told me. I assumed Roopi was the larval kid I’d seen.

  Jules and I were alone in the suite, and I was st
arting to relax. The idea of having an actual home on a starship was foreign to me, and to most of the crew, but it was growing on me. We had everything we could need, and it was as comfortable as our house on Earth, with one exception. We couldn’t go outside for fresh air.

  “Are you having fun here?” I asked her. We were sitting at the kitchen island, Jules drawing on her tablet. I set my reader on the counter and turned to Jules. The book was good, a young author from New Spero writing a spy thriller set in Terran Ten. A hybrid was pretending to be one of us, pulling information for a mysterious race of aliens, one wanting to take over our newly constructed cities. It was well-written, but the material might have been a little close to home for me.

  “I love it, Papa.” Jules smiled at me and returned to her tablet.

  “What are you drawing?” I asked her.

  “A planet,” she said, showing me.

  It was indeed a planet, with continents and bodies of water. She was starting to paint in space behind it, and she used her pinky finger to dot bright stars around the backdrop.

  “What world is that?” I asked.

  She shrugged her little shoulders. “I don’t know. I had a dream of it.”

  “A dream. Do you remember your dreams?” I asked her, and she met my gaze. Her green eyes danced in the light, and she tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  “Some of them. Not all.” She continued with the picture.

  “Don’t forget to save that one. Mom will want to see it,” I said.

  “She likes anything I do.”

  “That’s because you’re her daughter,” I told her.

  “I can tell when you really like them,” she said.

  “You can?” I asked. Jules was special, and I still didn’t know what kind of powers she held in that mind of hers. We saw glimpses every now and then, but I was afraid of the repercussions, so we tried to stifle the gifts. It was the only way to protect her.

  “Yep. I can feel it,” she said, and before I could ask any more questions, the doorbell rang.

  “Hold that thought.” I kissed her on the top of the head and wound my way to the front door, finding Magnus, Dean, and Patty. An android accompanied them. Maggie followed me, barking at the sight of the newcomers.