Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy

by Gregory Faccone

  It careened through the planetary disk, coming to a stop at Granamar's hill bottom. He ordered the ship's tech-eyes to examine that location. Battle debris was no help, but it didn't matter. Space itself seemed to ripple like disturbed water in front of... whatever it was. A large, spherical, something. Colorful, like a planet, but smaller.

  Arh-Tahl jerked, surprising everyone, even Torious. His face pulled back in a painful grimace and his arms and legs bent in spasm.

  “Unknown stimulus,” Torious said.

  “Nurse!” Barrister exclaimed.

  “I told you it's unknown! Blood temperature increasing, nerve activity—” Arh-Tahl sat up suddenly and took a deep breath. “And respiration!”

  The man stilled, blinking away the fog. “He still lacks the hang of it.” His relaxed mouth turned up just a hair. “It has been some time.”

  “Please Arh-Tahl,” Torious said, “I feel like enough of a failure when you die. When you come back, try not to sound delusional.”

  “Welcome back, sir,” Barrister said. “I am grateful my useful days have not come to an end.”

  “So dramatic, you two,” the man said.

  The nurse bot detached the rest of his equipment and stood. “It's the heroes behind the heroes that history forgets. Not that my ministrations won the final battle.” The bot moved off. “I can run the rest of the micro treatments remotely.”

  Arh-Tahl looked up to the flag station. “I heard your orders from far away.”

  The Iron Commander gave him an old fashioned salute. “It seems my help is still needed.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “The Jetty is gone, but the galleons are free and Aventicia Security is forming up.”

  “It's an imposing force,” Benziger said. He couldn't keep the grin off his face. “Our opponents have pulled back.”

  “Yes.” Arh-Tahl grasped it all in stride. “You seem rather happy captain.”

  “It's good to be back out in space.” An indicator caught his attention. “Incoming fleetnet.”

  “This is Kord Wilkrest representing the Banking Confederation Confidence Fleet aboard the Frulieste Defense Agency cruiser, Verdant. Requesting a combined force transfer of command.”

  Arh-Tahl seemed slightly amused. “Let him have it, Ferric. He's always been good at putting all his little ships in a row.”

  “Iron Commander to all Aventicia Security ships: We're creating a combined force. Coded authorizations coming across now. Form new formation as ordered, and show them how free people fight!”

  Benziger was inspired, ready to go out and kick a few ships in the thruster assembly—if only he had a few minutes to get rid of the ball and chain clinging to his ship!

  “It's like Utica Cyr all over again, Arh-Tahl,” the Iron Commander said.

  The Sojourner smiled. “Yes.”

  “But this time without the aid of your father.”

  Arh-Tahl looked afar off, then raised an eyebrow. “Actually...”

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  The Verdant was becoming the flagship of a much larger combined force, and the bridge reflected it. Kord never thought he'd receive a transfer of command from the Iron Commander.

  “It'll be enough to vanquish the Perigeum, Svals, or Trade Union,” Arceneaux said.

  “As long as they don't combine.”

  But whatever collection of motivations had brought those eclectic fleets to the battle, it was dissolved. Their opponents were going separate ways.

  Arceneaux was busy wrestling with the sensibilities of differing stamadas. He was detail oriented, officious, and up to the job. Vittora had gone to their cabin for some quiet time and no doubt to offer thanks to God that they had all come through this alive. It did seem miraculous.

  Kord sat back getting a little perspective, without dread, for the first time in a while. The Drexalis and the mystic cruiser took a hit on the chin when the Jetty blew, but they still looked formidable within their mighty rings. They really didn't build them like that any more.

  But leaders of the Trade Union were not mystic ship captains of old. They were busy recovering their damaged ships and maintaining a defensive position.

  “Shall we inhibit the Trade Union?” Arceneaux asked.

  “No, let's not convince the Drexalis that it needs to launch fighters or coax that mystic cruiser into engaging in earnest.”

  “The Svals are making best speed to hilltop,” the tac officer said.

  “I wonder what they were hoping to get out of this deal,” Arceneaux said. “I don't think they got whatever it was.”

  “Maybe not all of it,” Kord said, “But there's no way they went this far without some compensation up front. And they did score a galleon.”

  “At a cost.”

  “Yes. This stripe was earned in a battle like no other.”

  The Banking Confederation was going to have a hard time getting Aventicia back on track. It had become too mired in the muck. A swamp that needed a cultural revolution to drain, without which they might just fall for the next big power grab.

  Kord was nagged by the impression that Aventicia had not totally escaped the power grab this time.

  “Do you think Janus is gone for good?” Arceneaux asked.

  “Probably. But I don't have high hopes for his replacement. We may have just swapped out scheming for brutality.”

  Kord stared out at the scene. Granamar was mostly shadowed, a reddish bow holding Aventicia in space. Its self-illuminated yellow bands shone on sparkling debris.

  Yes, his father had survived, according to Barrister's transmission, but it had been a close thing. Aristahl was not one to stand by. He had to act even when the outcome was far from certain. Kord saw that in himself now, too. He smiled. They did have something in common.

  Jordahk was also a little too cavalier when it came to putting it all on the line, unlike his brother. How could his two sons be so different?

  The Aurora was beyond their ability to fully repair. It needed a mystic staryard of a type not seen since the post-war era. But Jordahk had saved Beta Squadron, and dealt the First Cruiser a fatal blow. Lives came first, and that was a trade-off Jordahk would always make.

  “It's moving again,” the data rider said.

  A portion of their viewport was monitoring the strange phenomenon, or ship, or something at hill bottom. The distortion made it a less than informative experience.

  “Anything more from the scans?” Kord asked.

  “Nothing definitive. It masses much greater than a ship. It's heading back out.”

  “Space me to the Ajurian Realm,” Arceneaux said, his eyes wide, “Look at that.”

  The thing lit with intense colors that played kaleidoscopically on the distortion. Space expanded brighter behind it, and contracted darker before it. But that's where the resemblance to downhill drive stopped. Multicolored energy arced off the spherical object, moving beyond the bright and dark poles, forming a giant, energetic tunnel. Then the sphere flashed through the newly formed passage and it all streaked away in a light show.

  “Ingots,” the data rider said, “that's fast. It's too fast!”

  “What was that thing?” the tac officer asked.

  What indeed.

  Kord had a strange feeling of familiarity with the phenomenon, or more likely the person within. He didn't know for sure, but he wasn't worried either.

  Epilogue

  THE PRICE OF FINANCIAL

  STABILITY WAS TOO HIGH

  Aventicia, Banking Confederation

  Helena Pindar,

  Confederated Comm staff writer. 358/2614

  The body of what some are calling the greatest Prime Orator in a generation is assumed lost in the terrible fires that wrecked the mighty First Cruiser. Mourners have gathered at Earth, Oppius, and the rest of the Six Sisters. Janus gave his life for our civilized way of life. Let us never forget the price paid for the financial well being of billions. Orator Braksaw, already running for the next Prime Oratorship, has asked that
the election be moved up for continuity of governance. “It's a time of great sadness, but Janus would have wanted us to soldier on as best we can.”

  Orator Parium, also running for the Prime Oratorship, was at a loss to explain the battle at Aventicia. “I don't understand why all this violence erupted. It was so unnecessary. The motivations of those usurpers, those so-called Shadow Board members, were inexplicable.” The negotiations assigned to him by Janus included prevention of default by any Perigeum member world. They were successful despite the tragic events. Exchange rates between the Perigeum Uni and the Banking Confederation UnC have stabilized, and trade is expected to resume in earnest.

  The Trade Union, a player in the unfortunate battle, has graciously taken responsibility to clear local space of debris. Vizier Kartoosh, their representative during the negotiations, has been appointed to Aventicia's new Governing Board. “I plan to make it my personal goal to root out corruption and prevent anything like the Shadow Board from ever rising again. The Banking Confederation's influence spans civilization, and it must be protected so all can partake.” Aventica's aging defense fleet is rumored to be the first major improvement initiative for the new board.

  Editor's Note: Keats Keating, assigned to the First Cruiser, was grievously injured during the final battle and has taken a leave of absence from Confederated Comm. We wish him a speedy recovery.

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  “You must have impressed him to have been left that bracer,” Aristahl said.

  Jordahk examined it again, as it lie over his NoSuit. Did he do anything to impress... that man? He didn't think so, but perhaps he hadn't failed either. It was interesting, though, how neither Aristahl nor he invoked the man's name unless it was necessary. As if just saying it would make the starchair appear with its occupant leaping forth to crush a moon or something.

  Like the Bitlord's, some monikers were perhaps best left out of common conversation.

  “I don't know what I did aside from maintaining level one manifestation—and not dying.”

  “Perhaps this time that was enough.”

  Despite the Aurora's need for major work, her starkeel was intact enough to make manifold space. But the where of their final destination, beyond the coordinates provided by the bracer, was a mystery. And perhaps “provided” was inaccurate. It had taken even Wixom some time to decrypt them. A challenge he didn't enjoy as much as first expected. The tech of that man, and that of the AI's master, are incompatible.

  Aristahl spent the trip in mystic juvi sleep, and at the highest level thanks to a Hesperus. Even so, he wasn't fully recovered. No doubt he would disappear for a few months to who knows where for a more complete restoration. Jordahk wouldn't allow any other option to enter his mind.

  They floated in space above the Aurora at the exact spot specified, waiting for... what? Thirteen hours had elapsed since their arrival, filled with scans of all sorts, including the spatial distortion sensing detensor. Twin quark stars burned deep blue before them, gradating randomly to supersaturated purple hues. They were not to be observed for long periods. Not because they were brighter than they looked, which was true, but because they played tricks on the senses.

  “Quark stars are strange,” Jordahk said.

  “They touch space in ways not fully understood, and you are seeing more of that with your new eyes.”

  It was true he had seen things around the stars... Faint waves, arcs, and ghost images that disappeared when he reactivated his concealment rets.

  “And floating out here in NoSuits will help us understand them better?”

  Aristahl's still bore signs of what must have been a horrendous wound across the midsection and arm. He had traveled around with his eccentric little circus for a long time, accumulating invaluable experience. Jordahk was still new to the game, but garnering a bit of enlightenment along the way.

  “There is nothing between you and the bending of space,” his grandfather said. “Perceiving it better is helpful.”

  He didn't know how that was possible, but thinking Sojourner was also about not limiting yourself. But some distortion was easy to see. Gravitational lensing of light from behind the twin stars bent it into a halo around them. According to the charts the illumination originated from a distant trinary. Its white and pink light, magnified into multiple crescents comprising two overlapping circles, was quite a sight.

  There was something about just being out there in a suit. It was about as close to space as one could get. Jordahk suddenly felt like he was looking at the whole universe at once. Did that even make sense?

  “Space is big...” Jordahk mused the classic cliche.

  “Do you want me to transmit that, or are you just ruminating?” Max asked.

  “The latter.”

  “Yes,” Aristahl said, “it is vast and beautiful.”

  “I thought I told you not to transmit,” Jordahk said.

  “I didn't,” Max answered.

  Jordahk dropped his incredulity, resigning himself again to transparency before his grandfather.

  “Sojourners muddle about in the deep places of the Creator for their power,” Aristahl said. “But we must resist growing proud, never forgetting whose places they are, and whose power we borrow.”

  “Janus grew proud.”

  “Yes. We have begun to push the darkness back in ways not seen since the war. But we can only be in one place at a time. We must inspire others.”

  That sunk onto Jordahk's shoulders like a weight. “Sometimes the inspired pay a great price...”

  “Everyone chooses sides, Jordahk, even those who believe themselves on the sidelines. Better an opportunity to enact great good than a life of meaninglessness.”

  Suddenly he sensed a change amid the twin stars. He could almost see it. A phenomenon like two mirrors reflecting back on themselves, creating the illusion of an endless shrinking tunnel. In this case it stretched from between the stars into the space beyond.”

  “Whoa, I think I'm sensing what we're waiting for.”

  “Yes, our pathway.”

  Jordahk shook his head, the gesture hidden in his suit helmet. “But to where?”

  “That is the question.”

  They returned to the bridge where data indicated the tunnel had a time limit.

  “How long?” Jordahk asked. He got no responses. “Come on, Wixom. Isn't this a great chance to show off your calcing prowess?”

  “Too many variables exist without observing the other side,” the AI answered.

  “The machines cannot sense the course line as clearly as you and I.” Aristahl laid it in from the command station. “Trim for downhill drive.”

  “You're going to fly us straight into the gravity well of twin quark stars?” Jordahk asked.

  “No. Straight through the exact center-point of the combined gravity.”

  “Won't our downhill field break?”

  “I think not, otherwise why would we have been given these coordinates? I surmise the pressure will increase evenly. Our field will compress but not break.” He offered a subtle smile which bore a hint of Kord's boyish grin. “Rest assured, I will have you home in time for Investiture.”

  The description was not reassuring. “MDHD field compression? You don't hear about it.”

  “Yes. An expensive and dangerous thing to study. But we should be fine as long as we do not deviate.”

  Jordahk tried to keep disbelief at bay. “Is anyone aside from me concerned?”

  “I am,” Max said.

  “At least someone is showing a little sense.”

  Joking aside, he activated the passive restraints, just in case. If the field did break, and they survived it, who knows where they'd end up?

  Aristahl activated the drive without preamble since time was of the essence. The dark region of contracting space formed in front of them, and behind he knew a light region of expanding space was also growing. Just before the dipole phenomena reached sufficient strength, the dark region stretched farther away in a
typical fashion, and then the Aurora bolted forward into the manifold space tunnel.

  They were surrounded by colors signifying high-end speeds. Blues, purples, and ultramarines, plus, of course, the ever present white streaks. But this lasted for less than a second before the tunnel contracted into something narrow. It became a moving blur of the previous colors.

  Jordahk's head felt squeezed and breathing was difficult, yet the interior pressure of the ship read unchanged. It was not physical, and yet he felt it. A sound hit his ears. A sort of distant screeching. Metal tearing. But that too didn't register on the bridge's audio pick-ups.

  The ship began a rhythmic jostle that increased in severity.

  “What's happening?”

  “I'm experiencing unknown forces pressing against my hull, bulkheads, everything,” Aurora said. “It seems distributed across all my matter.”

  “Aurora, in her damaged state, is off balance,” Aristahl said. “Gasket, can we pull in the starboard nacelle?”

  They had left it out, trying to avoid structural changes in the ship's damaged state.

  “I don't recommend it in downhill,” the bot said, “but it's fixed enough to retract. Probably.”

  “Probably?” Jordahk noted.

  “Retract,” Aristahl ordered.

  The nacelle grudgingly pulled in. The bumping increased in frequency, but reduced in severity until it became a constant wiggle. Alarms sounded.

  “Outside stress increasing rapidly,” Aurora said.

  “We're drifting off-center!” Jordahk said.

  Aristahl gripped the control stalks and they realigned down the middle of the bright channel.

  “The AI's cant perceive it like us,” Aristahl said. “One of us has to steer along the subtle deformations of this conduit.”

  Aristahl wasn't looking too comfortable under the stresses they were experiencing.

  “For how long?”

  “At the rate this compressed passage is deteriorating, I would say under an hour.”