The Star-Keeper Imperative

by C N Samson

  After each of them verified that their module links were working, they split up into pairs. Valicia and Hurgompo strode away to the station’s northeast side, where the casino was situated; Rheinborne and Kassyrinx headed to the central passenger lifts.

  The sidhreen politely fended off the various peddlers, vendors, and souvenir-hawkers that competed for their attention, while Rheinborne pretended not to see them.

  “You don’t have to be so nice to everyone, Kass,” Rheinborne said.

  “Civility to one and all is a requirement in my profession. And I would prefer to be called by my full name, if you please.”

  “Well, you can call me Blake. Or even Rhein, if you want.”

  Kassyrinx chirped. “I will address you as is appropriate.”

  They came to the central shaft and waited for a lift that was traveling down. When it arrived, they rushed inside with dozens of others. More people shoved in behind them; Rheinborne felt like he was going be crushed, but thankfully the lift soon opened on the second level and everyone spilled out.

  “Still feel like being civil?” Rheinborne asked Kassyrinx.

  “The more trying the situation, the more polite one must be,” the sidhreen replied, wheezing.

  This level of Widgner Station was newer and better-maintained than the one above, Rheinborne noted. The brown floor tiles were clean and smooth, the air smelled fresher, and there were no noisy vendors about. Indeed, it was more like a traditional mall, with four tiers of shopping space rising to the ceiling. The central lift had deposited them on the ground floor, but escalators and smaller lifts in the walls provided access to the upper tiers.

  Rheinborne consulted a nearby map kiosk. Nadia’s Bod Mods was on the third tier, and soon he and Kassyrinx had found the place, tucked away in a poorly-lit corridor between a used-electronics store and a parasite-removal clinic.

  They entered the body modification shop, found it barely wide enough for two humans to walk side-by-side. Sheets of live-paper were stuck to the bare metal walls, displaying animated art samples. A larger sign on the back wall proclaimed “Tex Tats by Tahla.”

  Down at the end of the shop sat Petala, who looked just like her image from the mission briefing. She was applying a textured tattoo to the right forearm of a middle-aged woman, who reclined in a long padded chair.

  “Be right with you,” Petala said as Rheinborne and Kassyrinx came up to her. “Almost done here.”

  The customer’s tattoo was that of a flowing, complex feather design. The red, gold, and green ink subtly shifted colors under the lights.

  Kassyrinx emitted a long trill and said, “Such a beauteous work of art, my dear.”

  Petala looked up for a moment and smiled. She was a petite girl, a little over five feet in height. Her burgundy-colored hair was cut in a short layered style, and she wore a sleeveless orange top and black shorts. Interestingly, her pale skin was unmarked.

  She finished about a minute later and set aside the stylus. After spraying a disinfectant mist on the tattoo and wiping off the excess, she straightened up on the stool.

  “That’s it’s, then,” said Petala, “What do you think?”

  The woman lifted her forearm, inspected the newly-applied tattoo. “I love it! Positively sterling.” She stroked the tattoo, gasped in delight, then raised her arm up to Rheinborne and Kassyrinx, asking if they wanted to touch it as well.

  “Sure,” Rheinborne said. He lightly ran his fingers over the design; the fine texture really did feel like a feather.

  After the woman paid and left, Rheinborne asked the girl if she preferred to be called Tahla or Petala.

  “Just Tahla. And not Tallie, or Petty, or anything like that. Straight up Tahla.” She pointed at the sign.

  Kassyrinx said, “A pleasure to meet someone as talented and lovely as yourself.”

  “Aw, thanks!” said Tahla, grinning broadly. “I’ll give you a discount for that. I don’t usually do sidhreen, but—”

  “We’re not here for mods,” Rheinborne broke in. “We’re the prospecting team. You’re supposed to be expecting us?”

  Tahla picked up her dataslate and held it out. Rheinborne and Kassyrinx scanned their inter-passes on the surface of the device, which displayed their cover identities.

  “Okay, that’s who she said you’d be,” Tahla murmured, turning the slate to face her. “But who are you really?” She tapped and swiped on the screen, nodded after a few moments. “Right, so, it’s Blake Rheinborne and Kassyrinx Ven Tynkadda. Good to meet you folks! Let me close up first and I’ll see you outside.”

  Rheinborne and Kassyrinx exited the shop, stood in the dim hallway.

  “Ven Tynkadda?” Rheinborne asked.

  “If you’re truly burning with curiosity, my full name is Kassyrinx Ven Tynkadda of the Banded Spire Unity.”

  “Ah. Good luck getting that tattooed on yourself.”

  Tahla came out of the shop, locked the door. She carried a small backpack-purse, and now wore a black half-jacket that was festooned with buttons and pins.

  Rheinborne noticed one particular pin, a gear merged with the letter G.

  “Girls’ Engineering Guild, I see,” he remarked.

  “Oh, yeah, yeah,” Tahla said. “Graduated near the top of my class.”

  A whistle sounded from the far end of the corridor. Rheinborne looked in that direction, saw a young man hurrying toward them. He was mid-twenties, clean-shaven, and wore a bright orange shirt under a gray flight jacket.

  “Tahla, hey!” he said when he reached them. “You closing already?”

  “Oh, sorry!” Tahla said. “Just got a new booking. I have to go.”

  “You do?” the young man said, disappointment in his voice. “I thought we were going to have the rest of the day together.”

  Tahla sighed. “It’s an open-ended gig. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She turned to Rheinborne and Kassyrinx. “This is ZT, my future-husband. We got engaged a few months ago.”

  “ZT,” Rheinborne said, shaking hands with him. “That short for something?”

  “ZT Corvo, actually,” the young man said. “It’s more of a professional name.”

  “Well, we’ll have your future-wife back in one piece, I hope,” Rheinborne joked.

  “I’m counting on it,” ZT said. “But hey, if you ever need a fast courier, I’m your man.” He brought out a business card.

  “I’m sure you are.” Rheinborne scanned the DR code but saved the card text to his module without reading it.

  ZT and Tahla whispered something to each other, kissed, then the youth sauntered away.

  “Blake,” came Valicia’s voice over Rheinborne’s ECM. “Are you with the engineer?”

  “Yes,” Rheinborne answered. “We’re on our way.”

  “We have the captain,” said Valicia, “but there’s been some trouble. We can’t get to the lift.”

  Tahla put a hand to her mouth, gazed off to the side. She was no doubt receiving a similar call from her uncle.

  Rheinborne listened to Valicia’s report. “All right,” he said. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Kassyrinx’s head crest rose and fell, a sign of anxiety. It had been a group transmission, and he had heard the same report.

  Tahla made a sound of frustration. “I told you to stay out of there!” she said. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be with them. Just—oh!”

  “Your uncle is with my friends,” Rheinborne said.

  Tahla rolled her eyes, heaved a sigh. “He won a game of Karudu and wanted to cash out, but the pit boss said there was some sort of problem with the casino’s banking access, so they couldn’t pay up right away. Your friend Hurgompo got impatient, started throwing things around, and the casino enforcer went after them. They’re holed up in the art gallery next door.”

  Valicia had told Rheinborne the same thing and had said that the enforcer—a large, over-muscled man—was outside, watching the entrance.

  “Isn’t the station’s security force supposed to ge
t involved at some point?” asked Kassyrinx.

  “They’re worse than useless,” said Tahla. “Most of them work off-shift as enforcers themselves.”

  “Guard bots?” Rheinborne suggested.

  “They won’t be called out unless things get out of control.”

  Rheinborne summoned a map of the station and overlaid it onto his visual field. The casino and art gallery were located beside each other in Section One, to the station’s northeast. As far as he could tell, the entry tunnel was the only way in or out of that area. He dismissed the map and asked, “Are there any back ways they can use to leave the gallery?”

  Tahla shook her head. “It’s totally secure. Lots of valuable stuff in there.”

  Kassyrinx asked, “What of this enforcer person, what’s his name?”

  “Sovidaan. He’s part cyber, all crazy.”

  “What prevents this man from just walking into the gallery himself?”

  “He got banned, a long time ago.”

  Rheinborne called Valicia and asked her if she could have the gallery’s security personnel escort them out. She replied that they refused to get involved.

  “All right,” Rheinborne said. “We’ll just have to get him out of the way.”

  Tahla emphatically shook her head. “I told you, he’s cyber-crazy! He once fought three hurlies at the same time, and won!”

  “Not a problem,” said Rheinborne. “Kass and I will draw his attention, lead him off, and—”

  “No!” Tahla interjected. “If he catches you, he’ll pulp your faces. But I have a better idea.” Without another word, she raced away down the corridor.

  When Rheinborne and Kassyrinx caught up to the girl, they heard the tail end of a call she had just made.

  “Okay, good, thanks!” Tahla said to the person on the other side of the call.

  “Who was that?” Rheinborne asked.

  Tahla winked at him. “You’ll see!”

  INSIDE THE CENTRAL lift, Tahla continued making calls on her module. Rheinborne wasn’t able to hear what she was saying; a rowdy troop of lecrashe fans commenced singing their team’s fight song as soon as the doors closed.

  He called Valicia and informed her that Tahla was implementing some kind of exfiltration plan. She replied that he should go with it, and only get involved if necessary.

  When the lift doors opened, Rheinborne and Tahla were swept along in the crowd and deposited out onto the main commercial floor. Station security guards appeared and shadowed the fans as they marched away.

  “Wait, where’s Kassyrinx?” Rheinborne said, realizing that the sidhreen hadn’t gotten off the lift.

  A transmission came in over Rheinborne’s module. It was Kassyrinx, who said that he was going ahead up to the landing platform to secure their luggage, and also to “smooth the way.”

  Rheinborne was about to ask what that meant, but Tahla tugged insistently on his arm. Rheinborne ended the call and let her lead him to Section One’s tunnel entrance, shaped like a slightly flattened hexagon.

  A dozen young women were gathered by the entrance. Each of them wore some variation of a mechanic or engineer’s outfit, and all were armed with a tool or makeshift weapon. Tahla introduced Rheinborne to a girl named Lorribee, who wore a long brown coat and carried an unshielded plasma-fuser rod.

  “What’s the situation?” Tahla asked Lorribee.

  “Sovie’s still there,” said the other girl, “but now his chick-friend Mava’s with him.”

  “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  “Shouldn’t be. They both know the consequences.”

  “Good, yeah,” said Tahla. “All right, go ahead; let me know when you’re set.”

  Lorribee whistled loudly and waved the rod above her head. She headed down the Section One corridor, followed by the other young women.

  “Let me guess. Guildie friends of yours?” Rheinborne said.

  “Every one of ‘em,” Tahla confirmed.

  Rheinborne now had an inkling of what was going on, but what exactly were they planning?

  Half a minute later, Tahla tapped her ear and said that they could go in. She and Rheinborne hurried along the corridor and entered Section One, a spacious rectangular chamber whose ceiling rose two stories above the ground.

  The wall directly across from the entrance housed the Sorvandra Grand Casino—whose name flashed in a multitude of eye-blistering colors—and the Sorvandra Gallery of Galactic Art, with a considerably more elegant exterior. Rheinborne found it bizarre how the two could co-exist beside each other.

  Off to the left side of the gallery’s entrance were the Guild girls, who surrounded two people that towered over them. One was a solid hulk of a man, shirtless, with muscles like mountains and circuit tracery on his skin. The other was a woman with a similar physique; she wore a tight-fitting sleeveless top, and her black hair was tied back into a number of thin, whip-like braids.

  “Sovidaan and Mava?” asked Rheinborne as he and Tahla approached.

  The girl nodded. “Okay, you stay here while I go in and get everyone out.”

  “Hold on. What am I supposed to do out here?”

  “Let me know if they break the circle. Then run.” Tahla dashed away to the gallery entrance before he could reply.

  A bestial bellow made Rheinborne turn his attention to the circle of Guildies. Sovidaan punched the air and surged at the girls, but was seemingly driven back as they brandished their improvised weapons. Likewise, Mava lashed out with powerful kicks that came very close, but didn’t actually connect with anyone. The girls maintained the circle, ignoring the threats and curses that Mava screamed. Rheinborne clearly heard the terms “foozwackers” and “straddletarts” bandied about.

  A crowd began to gather by the circle. Rheinborne moved closer, curious as to why the two fighters didn’t simply knock the girls aside. Then it occurred to him: it had something to do with the rules of the GEG.

  Someone called his name. It was Valicia, hurrying out from the art gallery entrance. Behind her came Hurgompo, Tahla, and an older man wearing a dark green pilot’s uniform.

  Sovidaan saw them and stabbed a thick finger in their direction. “Drummond! Hurlie! I’m gonna smash you all up, I swear!” He roared at the ring of Guild girls, who shrank back but held their ground.

  Rheinborne joined Valicia and the others. The older man held out a hand and said, “Ah, you must be Mr. Rheinborne. My name is—”

  “Introductions later!” yelled Tahla. “Let’s leave!” She urged him into motion, led the group down the tunnel and over to the central lift shaft.

  “Oh, Great Lord!” Tahla exclaimed, seeing the throng of people waiting for the next lift. “Come on, come on!”

  Several heads turned in her direction. She made a face, turned aside and slapped a hand to her ear.

  Rheinborne asked Valicia and Hurgompo if they were all right. After they confirmed their well-being, the man in the pilot’s uniform told Rheinborne that he was Captain Angus Drummond, owner and skipper of the Libertine.

  “Oh, fercock!” Tahla said, her voice rising to a shriek. She spun around to the others. “Lorribee said that station security just arrived. They’re breaking things up, letting Sovidaan and Mava escape!”

  At that moment, the lift arrived. Hurgompo made a blatting noise and began thrusting people aside with his trunk. Rheinborne’s group swiftly moved in his wake, ignoring outraged protests, and made it inside. More people packed in, filled the space to capacity. The doors shut just as a voice rumbled, “This isn’t over! No band of pixies are gonna save you next time!”

  CHAPTER 19

  RHEINBORNE EXHALED a pent-up breath as the lift ascended. He was glad that Tahla’s plan worked, and that he didn’t have to go up against a cyber-enhanced man.

  “What a singularly unpleasant fellow,” said Captain Drummond. “I’ll be registering a complaint about him, that’s for certain.”

  “You shouldn’t have even been gambling!” Tahla scolded. “You knew we�
�d been booked, and...”

  Rheinborne tuned out the conversation to receive a team-wide call from Kassyrinx, who said that he was waiting at the Libertine with all of their luggage and that he had bribed one of the controllers to give them a priority departure for the ship. However, it was only valid for the next twelve minutes.

  “That’s not much time!” Rheinborne replied.

  “Go straight to the gold line,” Kassyrinx said. “You’ll be scanned through right away.”

  As Valicia told Drummond and Tahla what Kassyrinx had said, the lift stopped with a slight jolt. When the doors opened, the crowd flooded onto the landing platform. Rheinborne heard Tahla call Lorribee and thank her for her help.

  The group made it through the terminal and onto the landing platform. Drummond and Tahla led the way to the Libertine, which was parked in a reserved area of the platform. Although the ship looked to be a standard midsize transport, the bulkiness of the stardrive section told Rheinborne that the vessel had some custom modifications done.

  “Hurry!” cheeped Kassyrinx. He stood at the rear of the spacecraft, the group’s luggage at his feet. “Six minutes!”

  The captain slapped an access plate on the hull, causing the cargo ramp to come down. Tahla bounded into the ship, while Hurgompo scooped up the luggage and followed.

  “All aboard, please,” Drummond said, allowing Rheinborne, Valicia, and Kassyrinx to go in ahead of him.

  Dim red lighting illuminated the cargo bay. They passed through to the hatch on the far side and into the central corridor. Rheinborne proceeded forward until he came to an open door on the starboard side. Hurgompo was already in the room beyond, seated upon an L-shaped couch.

  “Into the lounge, if you would,” said the captain. After Rheinborne and the others had entered, Drummond remained in the corridor and queried Valicia as to their destination.

  “Arctareen, Hatagur system,” she said. “Make one random jump first.”

  “Right, good,” Drummond said, and closed the lounge door.