Brynin 3

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Brynin 3 Page 2

by Thadd Evans


  I spoke into my tablet. “Vren, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Jason.” I repeated the same instructions.

  He said he would arrive soon.

  A man just over six feet tall—a cyborg with a wide chest, thick neck, broad shoulders and a semi-transparent head—entered the room. From the waist down his robotic body, Standard Protocol, was silver—covered by thousands of small octagons, carbon nanotube-titanium shields, barriers designed to protect nanomotors, wireless receivers and polymer muscles, devices that made it possible for him to walk, stoop or run.

  He sat down. “I’m Vren. By the way, are you the C that brought Ambassador Yar to Icir?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you do it?” He blinked, amazed. “Only four starships managed to escape Brynin.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I’ll provide details later. At any rate, I’m going to Danig. Are you interested?”

  He clenched his fist, nervous. “Yes.”

  “I assume you’ve heard about it.”

  Vren scrunched up his face, tense. “Yes, I have. When do we leave?”

  “In a few days. First, you need to find one hundred milligrams of tritium at a low price and bring it to me.”

  Vren leaned forward. “I know quite a few merchants.”

  “Good. Second, I have to find passengers with enough money to pay for the trip.”

  Vren rubbed his chin. “I saw the ticket prices in your email. I don’t know anybody with that much money. Good luck finding wealthy passengers.”

  I glanced at my screen. “I just received several emails from several potential ones.”

  Vren remained silent, a surprised expression on his face.

  “You’re hired,” I went on. “I just exported enough money into your tablet to pay for the fuel and your time.”

  Vren smiled. “Thanks.”

  “By the way, before we leave Icir, I want to visit a woman named Nianda. Earlier today, she underwent surgery.” I told him about my conversation with the doctor.

  “That sounds like private business.”

  “I want to help her any way I can. She’s never been to Icir before. She doesn’t have any family or friends here.”

  Vren nodded and stood. “The minute I find that tritium, I’ll send you an email.”

  “Good,” I said. “By the way, you don’t look like most Amboa men. Why is that?” Many Amboa men and women vaguely resembled amoebas.

  Vren replied proudly in an upbeat tone, “My father was Amboa, a scholar. My mother was a Ulthe warrior.”

  I raised an eyebrow, astonished by his answer. “You have interesting parents.”

  “Very interesting. Some day I’ll tell you about them.” He hurried away.

  In the corner of my screen, an email from a Dseo Geologist, a man named Sone Nien, magnified. I spoke into my tablet. “Is this Sone?”

  “Yes.”

  I told him where Yuiin’s was.

  “That’s fine. Can we meet in thirty minutes?”

  “Yes.”

  Below his email, a photograph of Sone emerged from the background. At the top of his forehead, not far above vertical grooves, I noticed a long scar.

  Chapter Six

  Sone plopped down in a seat.

  “You’re right on time.”

  He raised his chin, a proud expression on his face. “I’ve studied the Agols, a sixty mile long mountain range, sedimentary rocks that are near Icir’s equator, for the last nine years. After I reach Danig, I’m going to inspect Toit, Zomi and Qin, three craters. According to Obno executives, Mr. Lyso and Mr. Raui, there are just over two tons of gold half a mile beneath all three craters.

  “Unfortunately, they don’t know if the ground is firm enough to support mine shafts. If Geologists and their teams start digging and all the shafts cave in, they can’t extract the gold. They hired me because I know a great deal about sedimentary rock.”

  His ID was authentic. He sent payment into my tablet. I exported the ticket into his database.

  I said, “I’ll call you an hour before we leave Icir.”

  “Okay. I need to pack my suitcase.” He walked away.

  Near the top of the screen, Doctor Tayt Arno—a Mlaan woman, a gorgeous female with a copper-colored face—magnified. Her specialty was neurotoxic peptides, anti-venom serums, amino acids that attached to the nicotinic acetylcholine receptor.

  For eight years, Dr. Arno had worked at Fauur Hospital, a medical center in the Drok Jungle, over two thousand miles from Wcip. During that time she’d helped two other physicians develop serums, antidotes that saved hundreds of lives. Obno hired her because their small hospital was understaffed.

  I spoke into my tablet, telling her where I was. She said she would arrive soon.

  A slender Mlaan woman in a lavender pantsuit, a lady with chiseled features, Dr. Arno sat down and offered a brief smile. “I’m already packed. When do we leave?”

  Moments later, I sent the ticket into her database and mentioned the departure date.

  “Thanks. See you then.” She hurried away.

  In the corner of my screen, an email from Mr. Stio Guizz, an Etite programmer who specialized in wireless TCP-like networks, scrolled down. Obno had hired him because every tablet on Danig was difficult to use. If you were more than a quarter of a mile from anyone and spoke into the wireless device, static along with a distorted voice came out of it.

  Although Obno executives, Mr. Lyso and Mr. Raui, assumed that Danig’s magnetosphere was affecting tablet reception, neither of them knew enough about microwaves that carried voice, text, image, database and video information to alleviate the problem.

  Stio, a short Etite man with bulging eyes, sat at my table. “I’m really broke,” he admitted. “When do we leave? I need to start working soon.”

  Near the corner of my screen, his ID enlarged. He was the real Stio.

  “You’ve heard about Danig?” My tablet exported his ticket.

  “Yes! It’s a fucking bloody awful place, but I need a job. Nobody on Icir will hire me because of my…uh, bad temper.”

  I rubbed my face, miffed. I didn’t want to spend time with him. “We leave in a few days. I’ll call you just before we take off.”

  “Good. I need to finish packing.” He rose and left.

  Well, this was going fast. Near the edge of my screen, next, Dr. Buar Tria scrolled down. He was a male Aito plasma physicist from Xuis, a city several thousand miles from Icir’s north pole. His specialty was erecting Tokamaks, fusion reactors that provided vast amounts of electrical power for towns and cities by converting hydrogen to helium.

  Building a stable Tokamak would be difficult. The machine’s internal plasma, a hot gas that reached a temperature of one million degrees Fahrenheit, would destroy the reactor’s outer walls in a few months if it was designed and built incorrectly.

  Chapter Seven

  A thin gaunt-faced Aito man in a sepia business suit took a seat. “I’m in a big hurry,” he announced. “When do we leave?”

  Moments later, we finished the ticketing procedure.

  I said, “I assume you know about Danig’s reputation.”

  Buar grimaced. “Yes. Although Obno’s going to pay me well, I have a bad feeling about Rougt.”

  Information came out of my earplugs. “Rougt, a small mining camp sixteen miles from Danig’s only hangar and airstrip, only has a few geodesic domes.”

  Buar, a perplexed expression on his countenance, murmured, “By the way, I don’t know if this means anything, but Neaa, the Obno Human Resources employee who hired me, said there’s something more valuable than gold on Danig.”

  “Did he say what it was?” I hesitated, astonished and intrigued by this new information.

  “No. The thing is, I couldn’t tell if Neaa was teasing me.”

  “I don’t know what to think.” I shrugged. Was Neaa exaggerating, making up stories that were based on rumors? I couldn’t tell.

  “Neaa might h
ave based his story on lies. Anyway, see you at take off.”

  Near the bottom of my screen, Youn Lyoo, a thirteen-year Ulthe girl’s name, emerged from a group of emails. According to the document, Youn and her mother argued every day. Her parents were divorced. Eight months ago, her father, a giag driver—a truck operator—had moved to Rougt because he needed money. Youn missed her dad. She wanted to live with him.

  I raised the tablet to my lips, “Is Youn there?”

  A friendly voice replied, talking fast, “That’s me. Is this Jason?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have enough money. When do we leave?”

  “First of all, don’t you have any aunts or uncles you can stay with? Danig is no place for someone your age.”

  “I’m living with my Uncle Hoi. After telling me about the snakes on Danig, he said it was up to me. I told him that I want to be with my dad.”

  “Does your father agree with your decision?”

  “Sort of. I’ll read his email.

  Dear Youn,

  “It’s best that you stay with Uncle Hoi. However, if you must, it’s okay to come to Rougt and stay with me. Just send me a confirmation email so I can pick you up.

  “Love, Dad

  My stomach muscles tightened, a nervous reaction. Nonetheless, it was her choice. I sent her a map and information with the coffee shop’s address on it.

  A petite Ulthe girl with light purple skin, a child with a pleased expression on her face, plopped down in the chair.

  After the ticket transaction was completed, I frowned. “You won’t like Danig.”

  “We’ll see.” She jumped up and skipped away.

  Youn was stubborn, unaware. In my mind’s eye, a Tiel crawled over her leg. She howled, frightened.

  Near the top of my screen scrolled an email from Dr. Ieeb Pree, a Dseo female computer programmer. Her specialty was using photonic languages, K Script, RXL, ORL, and YX, to create massive cross platform databases.

  I gave her the standard message.

  A slender, beautiful Dseo woman in a pearl-colored jacket, Ieeb—a somewhat tall female with thick lips and silver hair—sat down, stony faced. In a matter-of-fact tone, Dr. Pree talked about being assigned to Building 3, a dome that was part of the Rougt building complex. Her ID was valid. After she paid me, I sent her the ticket.

  She grinned faintly, a forced gesture that lasted for less than a second. “See you soon,” Ieeb said, and left.

  Was she unhappy about going to Danig, or something else? Well, it was none of my business.

  Now I had enough money to repair ST7. I spoke into my tablet, telling a customer service representative where my ship was.

  His voice came out of my earplugs. My order would arrive at ST7 in less than one hour.

  Chapter Eight

  After paying a deliveryman for my package, I entered the passenger compartment.

  Yeliv peered at me, a sad look in his eyes.

  “Did you find a job?” I asked.

  “Possibly. During the face-to-face interview, Friw told me that Adiis Incorporated needs a residential architect, an experienced professional who knows a great deal about building apartments, dwellings that float above the Noq Ocean.

  “Unfortunately, they want someone who speaks Aito fluently. If I knew more about that language, I could grasp the entire Frie and Arem Agreement, a six-year-old pact that the Aito and the Ulthe signed, and Adiis would hire me.”

  “What does the pact say?”

  “The Ulthe, an argumentative race, must compromise. The problem is that I don’t understand the rest of the agreement because it refers to Teiz and Eir, two Ulthe words that my software can’t translate.”

  “You’ll figure out something. I think they’ll hire you. When are you going to hear from them?”

  “In four days.”

  “Do you have a place to live?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you have any family or friends on Icir?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll be leaving Icir in a few days. You can sleep on ST Seven until then.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. Anyway, I have to leave for another job interview.” He started down the ramp.

  “Best of luck,” I called after him.

  “Thanks.”

  I entered the hospital elevator.

  Near the top of my screen, text popped up. Nianda. The short message indicated that she hadn’t sent me any emails or called since our last visit.

  I went inside a room, and paused next to Nianda’s bed. I grinned. “You’re awake.”

  “Yes. My chest hurts like hell, but I’m alive.” She smiled weakly.

  I took her hand and squeezed it,.

  “Thanks for coming by. I don’t know anybody on Icir. I feel so lonely. Seeing you makes me feel better.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “You saved my life. That’s enough.”

  I told her why I had to leave Icir.

  “I’m sorry to see you go, but I understand.”

  A nurse entered the room. “Jason, she must rest now.”

  “No problem.” I left.

  Two days later, I returned to Nianda’s room. She was asleep.

  A nurse entered and whispered, “She’s getting better. However, you should come back in about a week.”

  I nodded and walked out, joyful that Nianda had beaten the odds, but sad because I might not ever return to Icir.

  Chapter Nine

  ST7 took off, and we flew over a six-hundred-foot diameter Glemal starship on our way out.

  “Vren, I’m still worried about Youn.” I scowled.

  He rubbed his neck, a tense look on his face. “So am I. I don’t think Youn knows what she’s doing.”

  “I agree, but if we don’t take her to Danig, somebody else will.”

  He shook his head, disgusted. “You’re right.

  “By the way, did Yeliv ever find a job?” Vren asked.

  “A temporary position. If Adiis likes him, he’ll go full time.”

  “How is Nianda doing?”

  I told him about my conversation with her.

  “Are you going to keep in touch with Nianda?”

  “I gave her my email address. Hopefully, Obno’s wireless networks are functional.”

  Vren nodded.

  Two days later, we passed a comet. Vren tapped the accelerometer, emphasizing his statement. “This is the fastest spacecraft I’ve ever been on!”

  I grinned. “In twenty hours, we’ll reach six hundred thousand miles per hour, ninety-eight point six percent C.”

  His eyes widened, impressed. “Yes.”

  And right then a harsh unknown Ulthe male voice came out of my earplugs. “My name is Hast. Prepare to be boarded or else we’ll shoot a hole in your port side with a laser cannon.”

  I flinched. “Understood.”

  Were these pirates, somebody’s police, an invading army, or what? If they had laser cannons and could catch up to the ST7, I was in no position to argue with them.

  At the top of a tan screen, the sixty-foot long Ulthe ship, a vessel with two delta-shaped wings, attached to a cylindrical hull, docked on my ship’s belly.

  Near the top of a turquoise screen, my vessel’s passenger compartment hatch opened. A couple of Ulthe men in platinum-colored space suits stepped inside ST7, and pointed their guns at the passengers.

  I stuck my hand over text. Au.pil.on( ). Autopilot switched on.

  Vren and I left the bridge, hurrying toward the passenger compartment. As we reached it, one of the men in platinum suits aimed his pistol at my face.

  He barked, “I’m Hast! Everyone must go inside my ship!”

  I climbed inside the vessel, the first one in, and studied the dimly lit small room, the forward quarters, and I broke into a cold sweat, waiting for Hast to shoot me in the back. This didn’t look like any police vessel I knew.

  I glanced over my shoulder as the passengers entered.

  Behind everyone, in
the back of the room, a hatch opened.

  Another Ulthe, a stocky man with a scarred blue face, entered, his laser pistol raised. He squeezed the trigger—an orange beam hit Ieeb’s face.

  She screamed and collapsed.

  Blue-face pushed the barrel against Ieeb’s neck. He blurted, “You’re a beautiful woman. I’m going to shoot once and wait while you beg for mercy. Then I’ll rob you.” He smiled as his gun clicked. He pulled it away, then shot her in the jaw.

  “Aooowwwww!” She dropped to her knees. A beam struck her neck. “Aoo! Please stop!”

  Blue-face chuckled.

  “Leave her alone!” Stio advanced, but blue-face pivoted. There was a flash of light, and Stio slapped his hand over his eye, falling to floor with a moan.

  “A.opfive,” Blue-face snapped. A compartment door hatch slid open on the edge of the floor and he kicked Stio so that he rolled in. Along the edge of the floor, a compartment hatch slid open. He kicked Stio into the compartment.

  “Somebody help me!” Stio wallowed there as the hatch closed.

  On a wall-mounted screen, the bottom of the compartment opened. Stio reached out, trying to grab a handle. He was sucked outside, kicking frantically.

  I clenched my fists, silently cursing the interplanetary conventions that kept civilians unarmed.

  The other Ulthe, a man with sunken cheeks, started laughing. “Too bad.”

  Hast aimed a gun at my chest. “I want your tablet. I’m going to withdraw all the money, then blast a hole in your skull.”

  I glowered, then stuck one hand in my pocket, trying to get the device.

  Blue-face shouted, “Everyone, give me your tablets!”

  Vren flinched, but he didn’t say a word.

  Chapter Ten

  Another Ulthe male with auburn hair entered the room shouting, “Hast, did you get all the tablets?”

  “Getting them.”

  Youn started crying, “Please, don’t hurt me!”

 

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