Leviathan

by Erik Schubach

  LEVIATHAN

  THE WORLDSHIP FILES

  (Volume One)

  By

  Erik Schubach

  Copyright © 2019 by Erik Schubach

  Self publishing

  P.O. Box 523

  Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026

  Cover Photo © 2019 TsuneoMP / Digitalstorm / Intueri / Dreamstime.com licenses

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  FIRST EDITION

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – Irontown

  Chapter 2 – Organ Harvest

  Chapter 3 – Remnants

  Chapter 4 – Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

  Chapter 5 – Here I Go Again

  Chapter 6 – Bohemian Rhapsody

  Chapter 7 – Another Brick In The Wall

  Chapter 8 – Rebel Yell

  Chapter 9 – Wake Me Up Inside

  Chapter 10 – When Doves Cry

  Chapter 11 – We Will Rock You

  Chapter 12 – Stairway to Heaven

  Chapter 13 – Another One Bites The Dust

  Chapter 14 – Man In The Mirror

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1 – Irontown

  I navigated my hovering Tac-Bike through the streets of Irontown on C-Ring, Beta-Stack. Another disturbance was reported in the bulkhead corridors. People moved out of the way as my warning beacon strobed. Air traffic was light and I considered heading above street level. This inner ring, like most of the inner rings, was inhabited mostly by Humans and a few unsavories like Sprites, witches, and a few shifters. Which is why I get dispatched here.

  I usually get the shit calls, since I was Human too. Why should the Enforcers Brigade be any different than anyone else on the Worldship? Equal opportunity bigotry is the one thing leftover from the old world, that old home called Earth that is just a legend to most of us here on the Leviathan.

  I've always thought the stories were just old folktales to keep us lower races in line, that idea that there ever was a place of Open Air, where machines and the ship's oxygen processing systems were not needed to keep us breathing, to keep us alive. But I have questioned it a few times when I've met a couple of the Old Earth Fae who say they were there on the day five thousand years ago when the Leviathan left the orbit of that dying planet.

  And Fae... well everyone knows that the Fae cannot lie. Which makes them the best deceivers of all the races, they can spin the truth to make you believe anything they wish and not tell a single lie while doing it. And being in the Brigade, I've seen the outer rings, the lush forests and villages, and rivers that they modeled after Earth. I can almost imagine what it would be like if those forests went on forever instead of being constrained to just a mile wide strip in the fifty-mile diameter torus of the A-Rings.

  It is hard to believe that each of the four A-Rings has almost two thousand square miles of space, four times that of the crowded C-Rings. Even more than the surface of the seven-mile diameter asteroid encased in the Heart sphere located... well located in the heart of the Leviathan. The workers and ore extractors there have virtually no gravity, so they can't even come farther out than the small D-Rings without requiring exoskeleton support or magic buffs to support their brittle bone structure in the higher gravity of the spinning rings.

  I went past the outer markets then parked and mag-locked my Tactical Bike at one of the many entrances to the labyrinth of corridors, living, and working units of the slums in the bulkhead spaces, assigned to the people who couldn't afford to live outside in the cities and villages crowding the ring's environmental envelope.

  An advertisement for cybernetic eye implants was playing across the door, damn taggers with their interactive graffiti were getting so commercial lately. Whatever happened to simple gang tagging or art expressionism? Now it was all about making an extra token chit or two.

  I tapped a code on my wrist panel, to inform engineering to come out and strip the programmable paint from the structure as I just shook my head. It's no wonder us humans have such a bad reputation for being slacker trash that's only good for reclamation for fertilizer for the farms, or sucking hard vacuum in space.

  It wasn't worth reviewing the surveillance footage to track down the tagger, it was a minor offense and wasn't worth having his or her meal cards set to rationing mode for a month. That sort of thing just promotes the rash of homeless in the lower rings when they can't eat properly to stay healthy enough to work. Not everyone had jobs that made enough chit to supplement their meal cards with fresh food if needed.

  Sometimes as an Enforcer, we have to choose our battles. The others from Beta Squad, either call me soft because I let minor infractions like that slide, or null because, like all humans who weren't witches or shifters, had no magic of my own. Ahhh there's that Leviathan bigotry in action again.

  Speaking of... a large tiger saw me step into the bulkhead corridors and it hissed and backed off as it changed to human and slipped into a living unit. Ok, maybe the Brigade isn't as popular here in the lower rings as elsewhere on the ship, or 'on the world' as we locals say.

  I checked my wrist unit again, and muttered, “Oh go suck vacuum, Bulkhead J?” Of course, it would be the maintenance corridors out by the Skin. I sighed and started jogging through the semi-crowded corridors, people moving aside as I started the quarter-mile journey. I should have just taken my Tac-Bike like the entitled asses of the other squads do, siren wailing and forcing people out of the way.

  The deeper I went, the fewer people I passed, until it was only the back hall vagrants. I kicked the hoof of a Satyr just to make sure he was still breathing. What the hells was he doing down here? When he groaned and opened his eyes, he started cursing me in Old Fairy. Who used Old Fairy anymore?

  I snapped at him in the same tongue, “Get up, get out, and get sober.”

  He staggered to his hooves and took the bottle of spirits with him, muttering, “Fuckin' null.” Ok, apparently he spoke Ship Common too.

  I snorted and sighed, then started jogging toward the reported disturbance. Could they at least have classified it? Was it just someone shitting in the corridor or someone threatening to open a breach in the Skin?

  On that thought, I paused at one of the massive breach seal blast doors as I passed from the section, at a sound. I saw flickering lights around the door seams of the emergency manual door release. I stepped over, shook my head then pulled the small door open and growled out, “Hey, get out of there, now! I'll pin your wings and haul your little asses in right now if you don't make yourselves scarce. And hey! Put that linkage back! We'd all be sucking vacuum if there was a meteoroid strike and this section decompressed without us being able to operate the door.”

  One of the glowing, five-inch tall humanoids with large moth-like wings hissed at me and waved me off. “Get lost, null.”

  I muttered to myself, “Sprites.” Then I said as I pointed back toward the exit, “Out now, you filthy scavengers.”

  Two of the trio looked up from where they were trying to pull a linkage free, their eyes shooting from my face to my scatter armor to the
badge and guns at my waist. They looked at their companion then took flight, leaving a trail of that damn itchy wing dust in their wake.

  The third called after them in his... or her... or its squeaky voice; I always got pronoun headache with a three sex-species like Sprites, “Cowards! We can get ten chit for this!” Then it looked at me, harrumphed, then slammed the little access door in my face. The cheeky little shit.

  I yanked it open again and the Sprite had the balls to cast at me. I didn't even bother dropping my talisman reinforced visor on my helmet with a thought. The spell sparked from its finger and dissipated against my scatter armor as it lived up to its namesake.

  I reached into the box and grabbed the little ass by the wings, pinching them together as I hauled it out to hold up in front of my face. What had it been thinking, even without my armor, Sprites were the bottom of the magic community food chain, right below Faeries. The most it could accomplish against a human is to sting or make a slightly uncomfortable rash with its magic.

  I asked as I cocked an eyebrow, “You want me to add assaulting an Enforcer to the list of charges? If you're lucky, they'll have you cleaning out grease traps in the food districts instead of the urinals in the D-Ring.”

  It swung little fists at my fingers uselessly as it dangled from its wings. “You're like all the other Bigs. If I were your size you'd be quaking in your fancy-schmancy boots like every other man.”

  “I'm a woman, are you visually impaired as well as stupid?”

  It growled, “Man, woman? All you nulls look the same to me.”

  I sighed and said, “You aren't winning any points here.” I scanned it with my wrist unit and an ID popped up. Ah, a third gender, a pollinator, I would have mistaken it for a girl, but I could see the feminine androgyny in it now. “Graz. No surname? You're not that old are you?”

  The Fae and other preternatural races became known to the humans of Old Earth when they stepped forward to help construct the Leviathan so that all the races could escape the slowly expanding sun. In those days most preternatural people had only a single name. They didn't start taking surnames until a few hundred years after the Exodus launch to Eridani Prime, the new world our people will call home at the end of our ten thousand year journey.

  We were only halfway there, and I and every Human on board would never see it, only the Fae and the Vampires had the chance of seeing the end of our voyage. Us Humans were not blessed with long lives, we burned bright for just around two centuries, then died. So it would still be thirty or forty generations before a human would set foot on the Ground, under Open Air.

  It harrumphed and crossed its arms over its chest, and gods be damned if it wasn't cute as hell. “My parents were traditionalists, living on a farm, and couldn't pronounce grass right.”

  Answered like a true Fae, it wasn't exactly a yes or a no, why were they always so evasive? The lesser Fae could lie, unlike the Greater Fae.

  I sighed and said, “I tell you what Graz, I'll overlook your little indiscretions if you just make yourself scarce and promise not to scavenge from critical emergency systems again. I'm on a disturbance call right now back at Bulkhead J, and don't have the time or desire to deal with you too, besides the paperwork is a bitch.”

  The purplish-pink color drained from Graz's face and it said, “Bulkhead J? The screaming? You don't want to go back there, it's...” The Sprite trailed off, shook its head and asked, “Just... it's better to walk away officer...”

  I offered, “Shade, Knith Shade.”

  “Shade.”

  Letting the Sprite go, it buzzed its wings to stay in my face and asked, “You're going back there anyway, aren't you?” It actually looked scared... even though it was virtually immortal... well as long as nobody killed it.

  I nodded. “It's my job.”

  The Sprite looked back the way I came as it licked its lips, contemplating my offer. Then it did the last thing I would expect a Sprite, which were flighty annoyances who looked out for only themselves, to do, and said, “I can show you where the screams came from.”

  Then it added quickly, “Not that I care what happens to another Big. Just if something happens to you, I'm stealing those MMGs you're carrying.”

  I snorted and patted my stunners, or Magic Mitigating Guns, as I pointed out, “Like you could even lift one, you flying rat.”

  It buzzed up and sat on my shoulder grabbing the edge of my helmet. “You've got a smart mouth for a Big.” Then before I could retort Graz pointed, “That way.” Then it muttered, “Shade means nobody.” I knew that, but like everyone else, we don't pick our own names.

  I sighed then started jogging in the direction it pointed. Gods... I hope nobody from the squad finds out I was taking directions from a Sprite.

  Chapter 2 – Organ Harvest

  A few twists and turns later, always heading toward the outer Skin, we came upon a darkened corridor. I could see the emergency lighting had been not just disabled, but torn from their mounts in the ceiling.

  Mother Fairy humper, that usually meant one thing. I didn't know there were any of 'them' in Beta, I thought they mostly stayed in the D-Rings of the Gamma and Delta Stacks. Away from the starshine that seems to pain them. I don't know how someone could choose a life in darkness for semi-immortality like that.

  I've always had sharper night vision than most of the other Human Enforcers, and the lights from the various consoles and equipment indicators were enough for me to see by, but in this near-total darkness, things were still in dark shadow in places.

  Then I almost jumped as I navigated around some of the huge life support pipes going down to the crossover levels under the surface of the ring, to a small, squeaky voice asking, “You can see down here?” I had almost forgotten Graz was with me, it had been pretty silent the moment we entered the back corridor next to the Skin.

  I took a deep calming breath and whispered, “For the most part, there's still some pretty dark areas.” Then I was blurting the curse I had just thought earlier, “Mother Fairy humper!” As the corridor brightened to daylight levels when the Sprite flared, dust sifting from its luminescent wings.

  Blinking the spots out of my vision I growled, “Give a girl some warning first, Graz, you just about burned out my retinas.”

  I glanced at the living glow stick, to see the Sprite looking at me with suspicion. “I'm barely lit up, Shade.”

  Whatever. It was just that going from virtually no light to some light just seemed like the winged pain in the butt had sent up a flare in my vision. Graz supplied, “The screams came from the next cross corridor just there.” After a hesitation, it asked, “You... you do know what lives back here don't you?”

  I nodded. “I'm pretty sure I can guess, the disabled lighting is a dead giveaway.”

  Its wings buzzed in amusement as it giggled out, “Dead giveaway. Good pun, you're funny for a Big.”

  I rolled my eyes at its droll sense of humor and asked, “So, you're trinary, what pronouns am I supposed to be using? I can't keep thinking of you as it.”

  Graz blinked its oversize eyes that helped project that femininity to the otherwise androgynous mini thief. “It is fine, but I don't mind he or she either. We don't have the hangups you lesser races have with labels.”

  I snerked, “Lesser races? No labels just a little bigotry instead?”

  “Hey! Did you call me little?” The Sprite flared purple and pink in warning, which decided things for me.

  “Hey there, lady, don't get so defensive, I didn't call your tiny ass little.”

  “Go space yourself.”

  “You should be a little more grateful I'm not hauling your butt in right now.”

  “Well you should be grateful I'm showing you where the screams came from. And do you have some sort of fixation with my posterior or something? You humans are so strange.”

  I sighed, knowing it was idiotic to argue with a Sprite, but I'm a glutton for punishment it seems because I tapped my
wrist console and it bloomed to life and I pointed at it. “I've got a map, genius.”

  She snorted then whispered, “It's right there.”

  I nodded and listened. My hearing was pretty good, but couldn't hear any movement or breathing around the corner. I pulled a MMG in one hand and a telescoping cold iron baton in the other and snicked it out as quietly as I could with a flick of my wrist. Graz hissed and shied away from the cold iron as I said, “Stay behind me, the last thing I need is for a civilian to get hurt while I'm on a call.”

  The diminutive person extinguished the glow from her wings and body and buzzed up into the pipes and conduits in the overhead space. I stopped breathing to listen again, I could just make out a lapping sound. I stepped around the corner calling out, “Enforcer!”

  The sight in front of me on the deck plates had me diving to my knees to place two of my gloved fingers on the unmoving person, who was bleeding out onto the deck from a clean but deep looking cut in his bare abdomen. My glove feedback didn't detect a heartbeat as I tried to determine the race of the victim.

  I scanned them with my wrist console and furrowed my brow in confusion, what was a Woodling? I know there were countless races of preternatural onboard, and I have only met a few dozen at most since I rarely ventured into the A or B-Rings where the older species and Fae lived. I noted the dust on the floor by his head and the stumps sticking out of his coarse brown fur.

  Someone had sawed off his horns or antlers, and the incision in his abdomen looked too clean like possibly a laser scalpel had done it. I felt the blood drain from my face. I knew what this was... I got on my coms and said, “Control, this is Shade, badge alpha three four eight niner. We need crime techs at my location. There's been an unauthorized organ harvest here. Victim is deceased.” I looked at my console and read off the man's identity. “Mother has identified the victim as Reiner Katan, approximate time of death...” I scrolled the info from my scan, “Sixteen twenty-three ship time.”