Star Relic

by Clara Woods

  The movement brought Lenah’s attention back to those scars on her forehead where the antennas were supposed to be. How must Uz feel without them? Possibly comparable to being blind or deaf?

  “Let’s go, then. I don’t want to spend one extra minute on this stinking ship.”

  Everyone’s attention turned to Lenah, as if expecting her to make the first move. Great. Did they consider her their captain now? When offering transport, she hadn’t considered that she’d now have people breathing over her shoulder when she flew a ship for the first time. No, that wasn’t true, she told herself. It was simply her first time flying a real ship outside of a pilot simulation game. She’d spent countless hours playing the hacked simulations as a teenager. Getting her hands on the programs real pilots used in their education had cost her months of pocket money, and some serious hiding it from her father, but had been totally worth it. Ever since, she’d dreamed of real flying. Since those simulations were realistic, what she was about to do should be no different. Easy peasy. Still, she was tense.

  Feigning relaxation, she climbed back up the stairs and through the cargo hold to where she suspected the cockpit was located. She found it quickly, walking down a short corridor and passing several doors, presumably cabins, on both sides. A quick peek behind each hatch revealed several dirty cabins, each with a bunk and a messy-looking common room that seemed to also function as the ship’s kitchen. The cockpit was smaller than on any ship she’d ever been on. Just two seats, one for the pilot and the other for a copilot, fit into the cramped space. All four walls were filled with screens and controls, some of which, she had no idea what their function was. They all looked archaic. Her gaze went to the large control area in front of the pilot’s seat, and she was relieved to find it somewhat familiar. At least she knew which buttons to press to get them away from this place.

  She let herself slide into the seat. Everyone else had followed, and was crowding the narrow corridor behind her.

  Lenah flicked her hand over the black main computer screen. Nothing happened. Once more she cursed her bad luck. This had all been set up on the other ship, the nice cruiser she was supposed to take. “Damn it.”

  “What is it?” Persia asked from the hatch.

  “The computer’s locked and only accessed with fingerprints. Without access, I can’t start the engine.”

  “I can go back out and get one of those sleeping drunks.” Persia didn’t sound happy about it, but in their current situation they didn’t seem to have any other alternative. Just when Lenah was about to give Persia the affirmative, the Cassidian woman murmured something that sounded a lot like, “I can get into that computer.”

  “What?” both Lenah and Persia said at the same time.

  “I can get your prints into that computer,” the woman repeated, only the slightest notch louder.

  And no wonder. Not that Lenah had met a lot of Cassidians in her 27 years of life, but never had she ever heard of one who wouldn’t crinkle her nose at human technology. Easy for them, as they could use their warp magic to practically teleport across the galaxy. That just wasn’t possible for humans. But a Cassidian who could hack into a human computer system was unheard of.

  Maybe she was talking about some kind of magic she had, or she hadn’t realized Lenah was talking about the computer, and not some organic being of flesh and blood. Though she had said computer, hadn’t she?

  “You can?” Lenah asked into the long silence.

  The tall woman nodded and squeezed by Doctor Lund into the cockpit. Sitting down in the copilot’s seat, she started lifting off the control panel that covered the access port. After a few moments, and after the cloud of dust had settled, she exposed the cables. Judging by her nimble movements, she wasn’t doing this for the first time.

  “I’ll go guard the hatch, Captain. Just yell if you need my help.”

  Before she could correct Persia about calling her ‘captain,’ Lenah heard her retreating footsteps. At least Persia didn’t sound drunk any longer.

  Meanwhile, Uz had removed the front panel and seemed to be looking for some specific cable. Her big hands were holding onto multiple strings of wire with surprising dexterity. Then she seemed to find what she needed. With a grunt, she held a large string of cables together and pressed the start button on the screen. Green text began rapidly scrolling. After tapping the screen a few more times, Uz looked up and motioned to Lenah. “You can try it now.”

  Lenah inched closer and saw that the computer was indeed waiting for a new set of fingerprints to be entered. She rolled her finger several times across the screen, until no more lines were added. With a satisfying beep, they were accepted.

  “That was amazing!” Lenah looked at Uz, who seemed highly pleased with herself. She didn’t know the proper way to thank a Cassidian, but remembered at the last moment that they didn’t like to be touched, and pulled back the hand that had been on its way to pat Uz on the shoulder. Maybe freeing these prisoners hadn’t been a mistake after all. She really hoped that was the case.

  “Okay, everyone. We are ready for takeoff.”

  4 Port Dumas

  The ship shuddered under Lenah’s control. Compared to this, taking off from the mansion’s parking lot had been a piece of cake. The Star Rambler didn’t feel responsive to her steering as she tried to set it down in Port Dumas, and it didn’t help that she was already ten minutes late for her meeting. Hopefully, the spy was interested enough in her money to wait.

  Next to her, in the copilot’s seat, Persia stirred from her nap. “Oh, blazing stars, I need some Tuya leaves,” she groaned, pressing both hands against her temples.

  “Maybe our freed prisoners found some in their search,” Lenah said.

  Doctor Lund and Uzara had spent the hour and half of the journey searching the ship for the personal items their kidnappers had taken from them. The doctor seemed to be missing what he called his scientific equipment.

  The ship jerked sideways, almost colliding into the other ship parked next to them. Lenah moved the control stick as little as she could to regain control, and almost crashed into a tree on the other side. “Stupid ship.”

  “It wasn’t my headache making me think we almost crashed. Twice.” Persia looked her up and down. “Have you even ever flown a ship before?”

  “Yes. I mean, technically, no,” Lenah muttered, finally dropping the ship into the narrow parking space. “Just in simulations from flight academy, and they don’t have fifty-year-old pieces of rust.”

  “You went to the flight academy? A family member?”

  “Er, no. Not exactly.”

  When she didn’t continue, Persia prodded her again. “So?”

  “So I obtained training copies and taught myself how to fly,” Lenah finally answered, finishing up the landing sequence.

  “You got pirated copies of the academy’s flying simulations?” Persia threw her head back to laugh, but jerked it forward again immediately, clutching her temples. “You’re hilarious, and I wish I could witness your growth as a pilot, but this headache is definitely going to kill me.”

  “Come on.” Lenah turned the ship off and got up. “Maybe we can find you some Tuya leaves in town. Then I’ll drop you off back in Astura I.”

  She found the others rummaging in the cabins, looking for their stuff. Each of the ship’s six cabins was equipped with one small bunk, a storage unit, and a chair. A ledge next to the bunk served as a table. Uz turned around, wide-eyed, and held up a metal bat when Lenah entered.

  “Whoa, chill. I just wanted to let you know that we’ve landed in Port Dumas,” Lenah said. “It’s not known to be a pleasant place, but you’ll be able to find a cheap ride off-planet from here.”

  Then it occurred to her that they wouldn’t have any money to get any such ride. Lenah reached into her pocket and pulled out her back-up chips. She’d brought the extra credits in case the informant asked for more money. After all, that was the one thing she could bring to the table in this situation; she
had deep pockets. Since she worked as her father’s assistant in Starwide Research, he paid her a generous monthly salary. Unfortunately, that money was tied up in Lenah’s bank accounts, and the family investors had access to it, and none of Lenah’s so-called friends had wanted to help out. So she’d spent the past few months making clothes purchases from a tailor in Astura I who didn’t mind charging extra on the bill. For a fee, she’d handed Lenah the rest in cash chips. Lenah pulled out her 500 extra CGC and handed it to the Cassidian. After a moment’s hesitation, the woman lowered the club and took the money.

  “That’s all I can spare, but it will hopefully give you a start.” Lenah turned when she didn’t get an answer, but Uz caught her by the arm.

  “Thank you.” The simple words and gesture rang deep. She probably didn’t receive a lot of friendly treatment. Lenah couldn’t see how a mutilated Cassidian would be well-received by her magical comrades, given how superior they felt over weak magic users like humans. And humans, most likely, were creeped out. It was hard to look at her and not look directly at the scars. Lenah forced her gaze down to the green eyes with their large pupils.

  “You’re welcome.” Then she remembered how late she was for her meeting and hurried back toward the ship’s only hatch.

  Persia caught up with her. “Where are you going?”

  Lenah didn’t answer. She just wanted to get to the meeting now.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “I’m meeting someone. Alone. Once I’m done, we fly back to Astura I. I get you a place for the night, park the ship behind the drunk guards again, and it’ll all be as if nothing ever happened.”

  They were outside now, and the night air stank almost as badly as the inside of the ship. Didn’t anyone clean anymore?

  “This is where you’re meeting a lover?” Persia asked. “Or are you trying to run away from your fancy life?”

  “What? No. I’m not meeting a lover.”

  “Who, then?”

  “None of your business. And put that hammer away.” People were looking at them. Lenah wasn’t sure if it was because Persia was still wearing her sexy gladiator outfit and carrying her hammer, or because Lenah herself was dressed in a business suit which, by the looks of it, had cost three times a month’s rent in this place. She’d thought she was dressed for the occasion. She quickened her pace again, mostly to avoid the stares of the bulky doormen lining the establishments nearby.

  The narrow street which, according to her wristpiece’s navigation, led directly to the meeting place must be the town’s bar district. She wasn’t sure if their looks were those of disapproval because someone dared walk by in clean clothes, or of invitation to get her and Persia to enter their bar. She shuddered. Maybe Persia had been right to bring her hammer along.

  She peered at her wristpiece again. The navigation told her that the shop she was heading for was located to her right. She took the next turn, with Persia still on her heels. “Just entertain yourself, will you? I need some privacy here.”

  “Ah, totally a lover,” Persia said and grinned at her, while Lenah couldn’t keep herself from rolling her eyes. She’d preferred the woman drunk rather than making any assumptions about Lenah. Almost too late, she realized that she’d reached her destination.

  ‘Clothing & Equipment for the Miner’ was written on a neon sign outside a small storefront, though several letters were no longer illuminated. Lenah stopped, her heart beating frantically. She was glad to get off the street, certainly, but she also hadn’t been prepared to have this meeting without her abilities. It couldn’t be helped, though. Everyone else did these things without being able to influence who they interacted with, so she could do it too.

  “Look, you can stay here,” Lenah said to the gladiator. “But if you come within listening range, I swear I won’t take you back to Astura I, at least not in one piece.”

  Persia lifted her one free hand in defense. “Sure, sure. He’s ugly, is he?”

  Lenah glared at her.

  “Fine. Whatever you say, Captain.”

  Lenah held herself back from losing even more time on the banter and made her way through the store. Thankfully, Persia had gotten the message and stayed put by the entrance.

  The inside was dimly lit—or, rather, so crammed with tall shelves that they were blocking out most of the light. She didn’t see anyone around, and an icy chill traveled up her spine as she thought that the informant might have already left. Circumventing a display of giant drills and hammers, she reached the back of the shop.

  A middle-aged man, tiny in size but otherwise unremarkable, stepped up from behind a shelf, scaring her to a stop.

  Was this her informant? He certainly looked like he could be one. Lenah scanned his features, but from the brown hair to brown eyes and medium thick lips, nothing jumped out at her. He almost looked blurry. She was pretty sure she’d forget his features as soon as she walked out of here. She’d heard about this effect before: low magic users creating friction around their features. This must be him. He looked her up and down once, and then nodded.

  “Lenah Callo. You look like your father. And you’re late.” Lenah nodded in return, not knowing what to answer. Being reminded of her similarities to her father when she was going behind his back to get information on his business didn’t give her a good feeling. Then she remembered that her father wasn’t precisely honest with her either, and the discomfort eased. She was just being creative in understanding what was going on around her. Plus, flying a ship, even one as old as the Star Rambler, had been really fun.

  “I was held up,” she answered.

  “It’s not good practice to let us wait. Or to come in with unannounced company.” His gaze shifted toward the door, where Lenah figured Persia was still waiting.

  Lenah shrugged. “I’m here and still want any information you can provide.”

  “Did you bring my funds?”

  She nodded, pulling the chips out of her pocket. “Here it is. Two thousand Common Galactic Units.”

  He held out his hand, and she dropped the chips into his palm. He pocketed the money with calm movements.

  “Aren’t you going to check it?”

  He looked up, his features still blurry; but his eyes became clear and intense, as if he was willing his magic to not cover that specific part of his face anymore. “Were you going to cheat me?”

  Lenah shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so. Newbies never do.”

  Asshole, she thought, but held her tongue. Let him feel above her. As long as she got some information out of him, that was fine. “You have your payment. What can you tell me about Starwide Research’s new avenues of business?”

  “An interesting way to put it.” He smiled weakly through the haze. “You might be surprised by the depth of this. Starwide Research is dabbling with things forbidden.” He paused.

  “The mage farms? They’re revolutionary, but not forbidden.” Ever since Starwide Research had branched out into the production of rechargeable magic disks, their profits had skyrocketed. Their scientists were busy finding more efficient ways to extract magic out of humans with magical abilities, while the farm grew every year. For the humans they employed, it was much like donating blood, but with their magic abilities. Besides, it allowed mages to earn a living without spending a lifetime guiding ships through space in warp bubbles, a boring and dangerous job at the same time. The mages didn’t need to do anything but keep controlling the warp bubble that surrounded a ship with a portion of their mind. That wasn’t a problem until the day they fell asleep on the job and killed themselves and the whole ship. Warp bubbles led in a straight line through space, and a dropped warp bubble would cause the ship to return to normal space right where it was – for instance, in the middle of a planet’s core. Disks, on the other hand, didn’t fall asleep.

  “So you are told. But there are other sources, ancient powers that forbid this. And the queen, she now knows.”

  “The queen?” Lenah as
ked.

  “I don’t know the details, but they got it from humanity’s oldest knowledge terminal on Lunara Station. There’s a secret server there–” Abruptly he stopped. Lenah stared at him, about to reach out with her abilities to make him continue, when suddenly she felt a hard touch on her shoulder. A really cold and hard touch.

  She turned, taking in the huge man standing before her. Muscled, standing over a head taller than her, he was pointing a gun at Lenah while holding Persia in a death grip with his other arm.

  His metal arm.

  Bloody galaxy.

  5 The Cyborg

  He was a cyborg: an angry-looking, overgrown cyborg holding her at gunpoint.

  Lenah jerked her head around to see that the informant had vanished. Internally cursing the cyborg for interrupting the conversation right before the crucial bit of information, she turned back and slowly let her gaze take him in. Since he was shoving Persia in front of him, his body was only partially visible, but nothing could cover up the fact that he was physically out of their league.

  A shiver gripped her.

  Apart from his arm, he looked human enough, but that didn’t mean he was. His green eyes pierced through her as if they could see more than was there on the surface. A straight nose and strong jaw were overpowered by a mat of long blond dreads that hung unevenly across his head and seemed in bad need of a washing. He looked really determined.

  “Heard you just landed a space-worthy ship.” His voice was raspy. Probably from not using it much, since cyborgs were known for beating people up, not making small talk.

  “None of your business,” Lenah said, determined not to show fear. Besides, she honestly didn’t know if the Star Rambler would qualify as space-worthy. Was there a test that spaceships had to pass? And why would he want to go off-planet? He looked like the perfect fit for a disreputable place such as Port Dumas.

  “Pretty sure it is my business.” He shot her a smile full of white teeth that clashed with the rest of him. She shook her head at herself. That was just her stupid upbringing talking. Her maids had always called out the outer qualities of other people first. Lifelong indoctrination was hard to shake.