by F. E. Arliss
Arc was overcome by how brave that had been for the young man. A huge chance and grasping at a lifeline, but brave nonetheless. “It was very brave of you to volunteer,” Arc said. “I’m not sure I would have been able to do it. Even for a chance to live again. Pretty darn brave,” she added again, receiving nods from the crew.
“Thank you, Arc Copperfield. It did not feel brave at the time. I felt so unwilling to leave my mother and my family. I wanted to be here to see them recover and live. Rather than be a ship and explore the stars as my ancestors have done in service to the Queen, I wished to remain here on Geboren and so I became this habitat. I am rather proud of myself, if you must know,” the voice said, a bit of laughter sounding now in the young tenor.
“Well, I still think it was brave,” Arc insisted. “Thank you for having us. May I ask you a question?” she asked.
“Of course,” Aasha replied quickly, clearly delighted to have interaction with the new guests.
“When we came in the door at the entrance, I got the feeling that the vine around the door was sensing me somehow. Was that true?” Arc asked curiously.
The Queen threw back her head and laughed, as did Aasha over the comms. “Yes, I’m delighted you guessed,” Queen Altum Juls said. “Aasha explain it to them, please.”
The young voice broke in enthusiastically, “Yes, my Queen,” and then continued, “It is a vine that is rooted in my skin membranes. I can sense things through the tendrils of the vine and scan people as they enter. Isn’t that totally awesome?” the comm system enthused. “I’m having so much fun as this habitat! My life is way more interesting than it was before!”
Arc laughed, as did the rest of crew. The young habitat’s enthusiasm was contagious. “Pretty impressive,” Arc agreed, grinning hugely. “What about all the plants, and the table and chairs?” she asked.
“Yes, the table and chairs, and the walls I can feel. The plants in the pockets are simply there. Though I can monitor their growth and make sure they have the right nutrients to flourish. Those are the plants that we will remove and sell to traders,” Aasha continued. “For now, I must go and tend to other matters. Welcome guests.”
Queen Altum Juls smiled at them and sat on the stool at the head of the table. “I know it’s a lot to take in. For now, simply enjoy the foods and let me know what you think. These fruits and vegetables are the items that you will be returning to Renegar with. From there they will be shipped onwards to different, highly vetted buyers.”
The next three hours flew by as the crew tucked into the different items with enthusiasm, helped occasionally by the Queen, who demonstrated ways to peel and eat the exotic fruits.
“How do you protect the source of these shipments from the buyers?” Quirke asked the Queen thoughtfully. “After a bombardment by the Intergalactic Guard, I’d think the safety of this planet was a high priority.”
“You’re very astute, Commander,” the Queen said, eyeing him intently. “It is indeed our highest priority. The planet is heavily fortified, as is the entrance to the system. Though it’s masked by cloaking devices and not visible to the naked eye or close-range scanners, we have a network of large energy cannons situated on several of the more stable pieces of orbiting space junk.”
Commander Quirke broke out with a rasping laugh.
“Ah, so you could have easily killed us before we even found your moon.”
“Yes,” the Queen said, smiling at him. “We’ve learned the hard way not to trust people,” she added, a dark cloud passing over her elegant features.
“I’m sorry for the experiences you’ve had,” Quirke added quietly, ignoring the shocked glances of his astonished crew. “We’ve all had our trust singed. That is why it’s important for all of us to pull together. Trust is a hard thing to earn and easily thrown away for money or to avoid pain. Once found, it should be treasured,” he added gruffly.
Arc raised her glass, turned to her Commander and said, “Here, here, Sir!” Everyone raised their glasses and clinked them together. It was as solemn an occasion as any of them had had together.
After that, the interesting food brought bursts of laughter and a load of questions from the curious crew. Aasha and Queen Altum Juls answered the questions easily and seemed to delight in their interest and reactions. There was a lot of laughter and sticky hands at the end of the exploration. Damp towels provided by an Idolum mite, helped return the crew to some semblance of order.
As the meal of strange and impossible textures came to an end, the Queen once more grew pensive. “It has been wonderful to have strangers enjoy the fruits of our planet in an atmosphere where we can participate. I don’t think you realize how isolated we are from events like this, where we can speak freely and enjoy the camaraderie of others. The Idolum are feared and as Osmir, General Freux and I, and our children, are shunned by all species except our allies. Fear has been a boon to us, but it has also set us apart,” she added, searching their faces for reactions.
“I can understand that,” Arc said quietly. “Power has a way of being coveted and usually not for the right reasons. Our crew wants to be free to make our own choices. It’s why we’re together. Each of us has had some sort of experience that has made us leery of others. None of us even know the others’ stories. They don’t really matter. What matters is that we’re here together now. This is our family that we’ve made, and we trust each other. I believe you’ve found a like-minded crew to help you,” she added, glancing at Commander Quirke to assure herself she was on the right track. He merely nodded at her.
“You can be assured that your cargos are safe with us, or we’ll die trying to make it so,” Arc said, holding the Queen’s amber gaze. “We’ve lost two crew members before, keeping a cargo from the Dreasing. We mourn their loss. On the other hand, we could not give in to an evil such as theirs.”
Queen Altum Juls held her gaze. “I see Sasha Kelty was right. As usual. You are a trustworthy crew.” She paused as though thinking things through for a few moments. Straightening to her full height, she said, “The contract is yours. The reality is that we ship the orchids and produce from here, but we fix the contracts to appear as though all the items are procured on General Monsav’s home planet. We’ve heavily fortified that planet to make it appear as though all the greenhouses and nurseries are there. Ships are routed through Renegar, which is highly fortified and clearly unable to support live plants such as these.”
Quirke nodded his head. “Clever, if I do say so myself,” he smiled slightly at the Queen.
“Now that you know this secret, you will be honor bound to keep it. Each of you will give a blood sample to Aasha and we will keep it as a blood oath to your secrecy. That is non-negotiable,” the Queen added grimly. None of the crew protested.
Twelve hours later, the Clyde departed Geboren, heavy with cargo and sporting a new cloaking system installed by the Idolum mechanics on the surface. Quirke was fit to burst with goodwill. A cloaking system! By George, he never would have thought he’d be able to get one. They cost an arm and a leg! And this one was free!
On the other hand, he was now hauling one hell of a dangerous cargo. Though, oddly, he and his crew couldn’t have been happier. Maybe they were all a crazy bunch of sons of bitches, but they were his crazies! He was the happiest he’d ever been. Maybe now was the time to have that talk he’d been wanting to have with Arc. She was a great kid. He was proud of her. Time to make it official, he reckoned.
Chapter Ten
Two Quirkes in the Clyde
They were several days into the return trip to Renegar when Quirke asked Arc to come to his cabin. Arc worried about that for a few minutes. The Captain hardly ever let anyone into his private sanctum. She’d only been there twice, and Dag and the rest of the crew, never. It meant something was up. She wasn’t sure what.
Just like the last two times, Arc had a hard time concentrating once she was in Quirke’s quarters. The walls were so full of all types of interesting artifacts and old vid s
tills, that she just wanted to stare at them and was prone to not listening to what the Captain was saying. This time, he let her look. Instead of talking, he simply handed her a glass of Zabadian brandy and let her take her time perusing the walls. It felt like a social call to Arc.
One vid-still of a group of people in front of an older model cargo ship caught her eye. The man in the center looked a lot like the Captain. A small woman stood next to him, tucked tightly against the man’s side. “This gentleman looks a lot like you, Sir,” Arc said, gesturing towards the photo. “Are you related?”
“Those are my parents,” Quirke stated quietly. “Both gone now. The five others are my brothers. I’m the sixth. The skinny one at the end.”
Arc looked closely and could now see the resemblance. “Yes, I see that now, Sir. I’m sorry about your parents,” Arc added quietly. “Do you get to see your brothers often?” she asked.
“Occasionally we try to get together. But these days it can be dangerous for us to all be together at once. Though we may have a safer place to meet now that we’ve got this alliance with the Idolum. I’ll be see’n if Captain Kelty will allow my brothers and their families to meet up with us there. I’m hoping she will. They are all trustworthy and may be just what she needs to help the alliance. Whether or not they’ll be interested in working with the Idolum, I cannot say fer sure,” he added, scratching one wizened cheek. “We’ll see, I reckon.”
“So, your brothers all have families?” Arc asked curiously. This was the first time she’d heard about any of his family.
“Yep. All five brothers have wives and kids. Diarmid and a coupla the wives and a coupla the kids are gone. Killed on runs and such. My brothers are Angus and Alban, they’re the twins on the far left. Then comes Birch, Calum, Diarmid - the one killed by Dreasing - and then me, Ewan. The youngest and smartest, ‘course,” he added with a laugh, then sobered quickly. “My folks weren’t much for pondering on our names. They just went down the alphabet. Had a business to run, I guess.”
“I had a wife once. She died after we’d been married only ‘bout a year. Dreasing again,” he added simply. As though that was sufficient explanation. Which, of course, to Arc it was. “Us Quirkes are hard to kill. That’s a fact,” he said solemnly. “I’m the only one with no family. No one to leave the Clyde to when I’m gone. That doesn’t sit good with me,” Quirke said with a grimace. “Not that I’m plannin’ on kickin’ the bucket anytime soon, mind you,” he said with a wink.
“I hope not, Sir. You’ve been a lifesaver for me and I’m happy here onboard Clyde. A far better life than I’d ever hoped for,” Arc added quietly, thinking back on her Earth years.
She shook her head to clear those thoughts away and turned to face him. “I had a bad family on Earth, Sir. Not physically cruel or anything like that. But bad people. Rich, powerful. Prone to do anything that got them more power. Bad people,” she added again, meaningfully. “I ran from them as soon as I was old enough to figure a way out,” Arc stated grimly. “My family, Sir, they’re human Dreasing. If you get my meaning.”
“I get yer meaning, girl,” Quirke said quietly. “I do.”
There was a long silence as Arc continued to sip her brandy and look at the museum-like walls of his quarters. Quirke seemed to be ruminating on something.
On one wall a placard that looked like a coat of arms hung above a collection of old-time photos of various types of transportation, including, to Arc’s disbelief, a faded photo of an old horse and wagon combo. The picture had to be around three centuries old.
“Wow! Is this the first Clyde, Sir?” she asked excitedly. “This is fantastic! What a history!”
“Yep, that’s the first Clyde. Not that that was the beginning of the business mind you,” Quirke said, a gleam coming to his eye. “In the early days the Quirkes were sailors. They traveled far and wide, learned many languages, and gathered a fearsome reputation as bein’ good Captains and fearless sailors.”
“That Clyde came into being after one of my great-great-grandpappies lost a leg and a hand at sea. So, his brothers set him up with that horse and wagon and used him as a new venture to sell the goods they was smugglin’ in. It added a whole new dimension to the business,” he added with satisfaction. “No one back then thought a person without some limbs could be up to no good.” Quirke grinned cheekily. “Ha, little did they know the things Clyde, the horse, was a haulin’!”
“What does the coat of arms mean, Sir?” Arc asked, gazing at the shield-shaped plaque that adorned the wall above the photo. The white background held a large anchor done in grey. A red arrow pointed down the main shaft of the anchor, ending with its point at the tip of the mid-point of the anchor and its fletched and notched end ran up to the eye-hole on the anchor. On the two curved grapple-ends of the anchor, black bears reared out from the curves with claws bared. It was a starkly profound shield and sent little shivers down Arc’s spine.
“The white background means honor, I’m told,” the Captain said quietly. “The anchor is ‘cause we’re sea-farin’, or were anyway. Now we’re space-farin’. The red arrow means that we’ll take up arms if need be, and the bears mean we’ll protect our family from all sides. It’s a right ferocious looking coat of arms, don’t ya think?” he asked, studying Arc’s face.
“Yes, Sir, I do,” she said simply. “It’s easy to see, too. Why isn’t it on the Clyde’s hull, Sir?” Arc asked.
“Too easily identified. Wouldn’t keep us as safe as being anonymous in this age.” Quirke stated grimly, then turned and sat his glass on one of the small tables fastened to the wall. “I want to talk to you about family,” he added, watching her expression closely.
“I don’t have any, Sir,” Arc said stubbornly. “Only this crew.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” the Captain said, grinning at her. “I’ve got no kids. I think it’s ‘bout time I got one, don’t you?” he asked, pinning her with a gimlet-eyed stare.
Arc wasn’t sure if she understood his meaning, but if he was saying what she thought he was saying...she was, for once in her life, speechless. Her mouth seemed to be moving, but nothing was coming out.
“Do you mean…,” she trailed off doubtfully, then shook her head, as though to clear her thoughts.
“Yes, I do mean that if you’ve got no family you want hold of, then I’d be honored if you’d be a Quirke. You said your name was made-up. So why not get a real one?” the Captain asked her, his face tight with some unknown emotion. A small muscle jerked in his grizzled jaw. “It’s got a lot of attachments, by the way. Gotta swear to this and that, and upholding the family honor and all that kinda thing,” he added, then grinned at her. “Go down fightin’ and the whole bit!” He added, laughing outright now.
Arc gaped at him. “Seriously, Sir?” she asked in amazement.
“Don’t be idiotic,” Quirke snapped. “‘Course I’m serious!”
Arc thought for a moment. Then said, “I’d be honored, Sir. The time on the Clyde is the happiest I’ve ever been,” she added quietly. “Not necessarily when we were getting shot at by Dreasing, but aside from that...I pretty much love the Clyde and all…” she trailed off, not feeling comfortable saying that he was way better than her real father. Then decided to hell with it and said so anyway.
Quirke’s face turned beet-red and then he reached out and clasped her gently to him in the first display of affection she’d ever seen from him, except for the occasional pat on ol’ Rex’s leathery hide.
“Well then. You sleep on it girl and tell me for sure in the morning. If you’re right with it. We’ll do the paperwork on Renegar and I’ll do the whole swearing in to secrecy and all that bit there as well.” He squinted at her and then said, “I’m serious about the whole swearing in thing and the going down fighting thing. It’s best you think on it all hard before agreeing,” he added grimly.
“Bein’ a Quirke can be darn hard work sometimes, and it’s no picnic keeping the family business goin’ either. I’ll see you in
the morning,” he said, then waved her out the door.
Once she was back in her room, Arc realized she was still holding the brandy glass. She swigged the rest down in one long burning gulp. Slammed the glass upside down on the side table and fell onto her bunk. Dag was nowhere to be seen, thank heaven. She had stuff to think about!
Well...things were stranger and stranger. Arc Quirke. A strange name for a strange new world of possibilities. She’d sleep on it and see what the morning brought.
Chapter Eleven
Acceptance
Arc woke the next morning with the feeling that something wasn’t quite normal. Then it all came back to her. She could be a Quirke. One in a long line of rum running, brandy smuggling, semi-outlaws who swore to protect family at all costs. Since her own family was nothing but a pack of wild hyenas, ready to rip their own apart for an extra speck of power or money, the idea appealed to her.
