by Isaac Hooke
“You really don’t know how starships work, do you? Doesn’t that chip in your head contain any information? At least I’m assuming you’re chipped, judging from your buzzcut.” She reached for his scalp, which was still covered in little more than stubble at that point.
“No don’t!” Tane said. Too late. Her hand ran across the stubble. “Ahh. Now it’s going to itch for the next ten minutes.”
She shrugged, smiling innocently, then took a sip of her meal replacement. She wiped away the mustache. “So have you figured out how I was able to open a distortion tunnel or not?”
As she spoke, Tane accessed his memories. Those who were weak in the Essence were picked up by the TSN for training to become minor Essence warriors and jump specialists, while those with the real skills were shipped off to the Volur, as per treaty agreements.
His mind went off on a tangent as he continued deeper into those memories: the Volur of Talendir, though swearing allegiance to the TSN, operated almost with complete autonomy. They still heeded the call when the TSN summoned them to fight in their wars, but otherwise were left alone to do as they pleased. They didn’t even have to pay any taxes like most of the other worlds. They often sent their members out to serve as advisers to the different planetary governments under TSN rule, and several sat on the board of the TSN itself.
As for why Sinive could open a distortion tunnel, she explained it while the thoughts came into his head.
“You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” Sinive said. “It’s because of the Chrysalium in the hull. The massive amounts of Essence I can Siphon through it more than makes up for the relatively small amount I can Siphon through my own body. Not even a Volur can Siphon this much naturally. Sure, some Volur can create small distortion tunnels on their own to transport people, or even small shuttles, a short way. Usually with the help of Chrysalium jewelry. But a ship? No jewelry will help them with that.”
“You also use the Chrysalium to Siphon enough to power the ship’s Essence lance,” Tane said.
“That’s right,” Sinive said. “The lance goes right through ordinary energy shields. Battles in space can get interesting. One side throws an Essence lance. The other side diverts it with a hastily formed Essence deflector, if available—unlike this ship. Back and forth like that the fighting goes until one side makes a mistake, or grows tired and can’t keep up. It’s all about who can fire the fastest, and who has the most Endurance. Almost a war of attrition. Let’s just say, when it comes to nanotech upgrades, the most important attributes for a jump specialist to possess are Dexterity and Endurance. Intelligence helps as well, if only on the strategy side, but that’s what we have ship AIs for, right Grizz?”
“Yes ma’am,” the Red Grizzly’s AI responded.
“Well, I’m about done,” Nebb said, shoving aside the bones of the chicken carcass. “Sin, I need you to look at the recoupler on engine two before the next jump. It’s been acting up lately. El Bee can’t find anything wrong but I know there’s gotta be something. I’d hate to arrive in a new system only to have the engine flip out on me.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” Sinive said, not meeting his eyes. She sounded like she was still pissed at him.
“See that El Bee cleans this up,” Nebb nodded toward the chicken bones.
“Sure thing,” Sinive said.
Nebb bent over and pointed an accusing finger at Tane. “And don’t you be hitting on her when I’m gone, you hear?”
“No, of course not,” Tane said hurriedly.
Nebb scowled at him and then left.
“A bit protective about you, isn’t he?” Tane said.
“Yeah, and now I know why.” Sinive shook her head. “Cheating me out of my due pay.”
“Have you ever transported a Volur and her retinue before?” Tane asked.
“No,” Sinive said. “You guys are the first.”
“Have you met Lyra yet?”
“I met her and her Bander while I was leaving the jump chamber,” Sinive said. “Yes, I know what you’re thinking. How come I was still in the jump chamber half an hour later? I guess you haven’t figured out yet that drawing massive amounts of Essence through Chrysalium is draining. I stumbled back to my quarters after they woke me lying there in the chamber.”
“Ah,” Tane said.
“How did you get mixed up with her in the first place?” Sinive asked.
“Long story,” Tane said. “Let’s just say, it’s important that I get to Talendir as soon as possible.”
“The TSN want you, too…” Sinive said. She tapped her lips. “Volur politics. Sometimes I’m glad I never got tangled up with them. They’ve got their tentacles spread throughout the galaxy, in the form of the ‘advisers’ they lend to the different governments. Sometimes I wonder if it’s truly the TSN in control, or the Volur.”
“Why are their classes unknown when I view their public profiles?” Tane asked.
Sinive seemed confused. “The Volur and her companion you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Well of course they’ll show up as unknown to you,” Sinive said. “First of all you’re using an Outrimmer chip. Second of all the chip isn’t military grade. A Volur and her Bander? They don’t like to broadcast that information to civilians. Though to the trained eye, it’s obvious what they are anyway. I knew the moment I saw them.”
“So their data isn’t forged…” Tane said.
“No.” Sinive finished her glass in one final long gulp, and wiped her lips. “Speaking of which, I’m supposed to hook you up with a forged ID. Apparently your Volur paid extra for that. Though as usual Nebb doesn’t want to admit by how much.”
“Oh,” Tane said. “Okay. Though I’m not sure I need a forged ID anymore.”
“You do if you hope to get past customs without any problems in Talendir,” Sinive said.
“Customs?” Tane said.
“Yes,” Sinive said. “Haven’t you ever been off world? Since we’re flying private, a TSN customs robots will come aboard to stamp our digital passports when we arrive. Can’t have that robot making a positive ID. Unless you want the droid to haul you off to the brig, where you’ll stay until the next TSN ship arrives to pick you up.”
“But I thought Talendir was the Volur homeworld?” Tane remembered then how Lyra had told him she wasn’t sure what kind of a welcome they’d receive in Talendir.
“Even their homeworld is under TSN rule, as you know,” Sinive said. “As such, their customs ports are all manned by TSN personnel. One of the conditions of Volur autonomy.”
“They’re not so autonomous after all are they?” Tane said. “But then again, if the Volur really have their tentacles spread throughout the galaxy, with some of their members even sitting on the board of the TSN, then I have nothing to worry about.”
“If you want to take that risk, the choice is yours,” Sinive said. “Nebb will be happy to accept your Volur’s money without the service being provided. He better make good on his promise to share some of that profit with me, though, or I swear I’m through.” She stood. “Come on, let’s get your forged ID ready now while I still have some energy in me. After I make our next distortion jump, I’ll be out for a while.”
“But I thought you just told me the choice was mine?” Tane protested. By then he felt comfortable enough around her to joke like that. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d finally grown a pair, or that she was just good with people.
“Funny,” Sinive said.
Tane forced down the last of his meal replacement drink. When he stood, he burped involuntarily and some of the terrible liquid came up. He swallowed it back down.
“Classy,” Sinive said.
“Sorry,” Tane said. “You know, it doesn’t taste much better the second time around.”
Sinive grimaced. “Thanks for that image. Like I said, classy.”
11
Tane followed her through the cramped corridors to a small compartment nearby. His HUD labeled it sickbay.
/> Inside was a single bed that took up almost all the room. Sinive squeezed in past a robotic arm equipped with telescoping limbs that protruded from the bulkhead.
Tane barely fit in between the bulkhead and the bed beside her.
“Well one thing I can say about this ship,” he told her, “is that it’s certainly roomy.”
“Ha,” Sinive said. “You might as well lie down. Since there’s basically nowhere else to stand in here.”
Tane scooted onto the hard bed and lay back. “Man, I’d hate to have to be treated here. It’s almost as claustrophobic as my quarters.”
Sinive shrugged. “When you’re injured, trust me, you hardly notice.” She removed a tiny vial of yellow liquid and set it down on a tray next to a sonic injection unit. “I’m going to have to inject a small amount of nanotech. But first.” She rested a cold metal device, shaped as a quarter circle, against his forehead. “I’m going to give you a localized brain scan. Just relax for a few minutes, because even though it’s only a partial scan, it’ll take a while—we don’t have all the expensive equipment full-blown microchipping vendors have access to.”
Tane thought of when Roadrunner had injected him with third-party nanotech. “You know, last time I got a nanotech injection, I didn’t get a scan.”
“Some black market chippers skip that step,” Sinive said. “It’s a dangerous practice. You’re lucky you didn’t become a vegetable.”
Sheesh. Note to self: don’t buy nanotech on the black market again. Unless they perform a brain scan first.
Sinive turned away slightly and placed the vial into a slot on a nearby console. Her eyes defocused: she was coding the micro machines with the help of the ship’s AI, no doubt.
“I’m not the best coder out there,” Sinive said. “So this is going to take me some time. I should have the basics done when the scan completes though, and then I can make the necessary updates rather quickly after that.”
Tane took advantage of the opportunity to study her face. Yes, she was definitely a cutie.
“Stop looking at me,” Sinive said.
Tane quickly averted his gaze. “You’d think you have eyes at the back of your head or something.”
“It’s called peripheral vision,” Sinive said.
Tane felt a little uncomfortable in the quietude that followed, and he couldn’t suppress the urge to make small talk. But if he was going to chitchat, he figured he might as well learn something along the way.
“So how did you get access to tech that lets you forge an ID?” Tane asked.
“We’re smugglers, remember?” Sinive replied.
“I’m guessing Nebb taught you how to do it...” Tane said.
Sinive nodded. “In lieu of pay, unfortunately. But you heard all about that.”
“Yes.” Tane said. There were so many questions he had, now that he was face-to-face with an Essence worker willing to answer his queries, someone far more approachable than a full-blown Volur like Lyra. What to start with? Well, there was nothing in his chip about distortion tunnels. At least in regards to their creation and targeting.
“How does distortion jumping work?” Tane said. “How do you ensure you jump to the right system?”
“You know, talking to me will only make the coding process take longer,” Sinive said. “I told you, I’m not the best at this.”
“That’s fine,” Tane said.
She sighed, sitting back. Her eyes focused on him. “We use gravity wells to guide our tunnels. Stars and planets, they’re like signposts. We reach out with the Essence while forming the tunnel… the endpoint is drawn to the closest star thanks to the effects of gravity. Each star produces a distinct vibrational pattern, and with the help of the AI we can determine precisely what star we’re dealing with. We keep moving the endpoint until we’ve hit upon the desired system. It’s sort a trial and error process…
“Imagine the endpoint as an untethered water hose, with the end whipping about. When we move the endpoint, sometimes it’ll latch onto an entirely different star than intended, so we have to keep fiddling until we get it. In the meantime, we’re holding this massive amount of Essence inside us, which is tearing our bodies apart from the inside out. When we finally hit the system we want, we make minor adjustments to ensure the tunnel doesn’t open into the heart of the star. The planets in a target system also introduce known vibrational signals into the tunnel, and we use that to help guide us to an approximate final destination. It’s a bit like trying to steer a whipping water hose through a particular hole in a wall that’s covered in holes. While blindfolded.”
“Good analogy,” Tane said. “But what about planet-side distortion tunnels then?”
“I’ve heard it’s a little easier,” Sinive said. “Considering that you’re dealing with a lot less Essence.”
“Heard?” Tane asked.
“That’s right,” Sinive said. “The TSN never trained me to open planet-side tunnels. That’s reserved for Essence warriors and the like: people expected to participate in ground combat. I’m too weak to open a planet-side tunnel without a full battle suit built out of Chrysalium anyway. It can be tricky. I’ve seen trainees accidentally open tunnels inside solid rock. Usually they can only open to an area that’s in their line of sight, because otherwise it’s impossible to aim.”
“What about distortion gates?”
“The government-run gates people use to teleport around planets? They work a bit differently. All the available endpoints are preprogrammed ahead of time, so that a traveler only needs to enter a known destination, and off he goes. The genetically-engineered sponges Siphon the necessary Essence, while an AI in the gate creates the appropriate designs—we call them Branches—to induce the distortion, and steers the resultant endpoint to its target. It’s a bit different because tunnels are actually opened from both gates at the same time, and they terminate in the center, joining to form a single cohesive tunnel.”
“Crazy,” Tane said. “It’s too bad... we can create non-sentient organics—sponges—to Siphon the Essence, and yet we can’t bestow the power to the have-nots among us humans.”
“No, you have to be born with the ability to Siphon,” Sinive agreed. “It’s definitely not something that can be added later.”
“Gate scientists individually bind the sponge cells to the Essence while the organism is still in the zygote stage, I think,” Tane said. “That much is in my chip.”
“Yes, they do,” Sinive said.
“There has to be a way to do that in humans,” Tane said.
Sinive nodded. “I’ve heard the Volur have developed a technique to achieve Essence binding with newly fertilized human zygotes in test tube environments. But the resulting fetus always dies before maturation. They’ve never really isolated whatever genes allow the binding in humans. Some say it involves more than genes.”
“What they really need to do is inject us all with the DNA of sponges,” Tane said.
“Yeah,” Sinive said with a laugh. Her eyes defocused. “Your partial brain scan is almost done.”
Tane sighed. “You know, I envy you.”
Her eyes had remained defocused, probably so that she could continue coding in the “basics” as she called them, but then she glanced at him as his words registered. “Why’s that?”
“I envy the power you have,” Tane said. He shook his head. “I’ve always dreamed of it. For as long as I could remember, I’ve wanted to be an Essenceworker. As a child, I was convinced I was one of those who could, even though the chances are one in a billion. But as I grew older, and realized how stacked against me the odds were, I began to dread getting chipped, because I didn’t want to see the brain scan and be disappointed. For the past three years I avoided it, in fact. And sure enough, when I got a full scan, I learned I wasn’t one of those with the Ability.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Sinive said. “Like you said, the chances are one in a billion. The Ability is rare.”
Tane nodded. “In the past ten year
s, only five people capable of using the Essence were born on Galtede Serpentis. I remember them all, because there would always be a big announcement on the planet-wide mixnet. I think only one of those five became a Volur, and the others were shipped off to the TSN.” He paused. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like. To Siphon the Essence…”
“It’s both the most amazing feeling in the world, and also the worst,” Sinive said. “In that you feel such great joy, such sheer power, like you can do anything, but also you can feel the terrible drain it has on your body, and you know if you let up your concentration, even for a moment, you’ll allow the Essence to tear through you and rip you apart. More than a few jump specialists have stepped into a jump chamber, never to emerge.”
“What happened to them?” Tane asked.
“They atomized themselves,” Sinive said. “Or rather, the Essence did.”
“Nice,” Tane said. “I never imagined it was so dangerous.”
“When you’re Siphoning the huge amount of Essence a Chrysalium-based starship gives you, then yes it’s extremely dangerous,” Sinive said.
“How do you actually create something with that power?” Tane asked.
“You mean a Branchwork?”
“Sure,” Tane said, having no idea what she was talking about. That the word didn’t immediately make sense to him told him his chip didn’t have anything on it.
She looked off into space. “Creating with the Essence is like growing a sapling into a many-branched tree over the span of a second or two. For some works, like the Essence Push, the resultant Branchwork is tiny. For others, like a distortion tunnel, the sapling blossoms into a great tree, its branches intertwining, its leaves all different shapes and sizes. Those leaves can be thought of as nucleic acids, the building blocks of DNA: when ‘proteins’ in those building blocks interlock with matching ‘proteins’ in the universe, creation takes place. And that’s really the wonder of the Essence: the creation of something tangible from the intangible. It’s like 3D printing with the aether.” She sighed, then focused on him. “Between you and me, I’m just glad we have nanotech to learn the different works, otherwise it would take literally lifetimes to train. That’s one of the nice things about the collective human consciousness we’ve built up over the years, that, and the ability to transfer knowledge from said consciousness into individuals via fast and easy mind dumps, allows us to pack lifetimes of learning into the time it takes to make a brain scan and an injection.”
