The Apex Book of World SF

by Mahvesh Murad

  Horns nodded. “They didn’t even bother to hide the records.”

  They were silent for a minute or two. “Well, no one’s killing anyone on my ship,” said Bruno. “It’ll raise the insurance premiums.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll figure out something, don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried,” she said, and reached out to touch his cheek. He had forgotten how calloused her fingers were from gripping the navigation console. He closed his eyes and turned to brush his lips against them, but she withdrew her hand too quickly. Her touch lingered for long afterward as if he had been burned.

  “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Marley said.

  “It’s your eternal soul,” growled Ronk.

  “I know,” she said quickly. “I just don’t see why it matters. I mean, if I were an ant or a dog or a chimpanzee, nobody would care what my soul was up to. But just because I’m a person, suddenly my soul is important? I don’t get it.”

  They had gathered at the dining table, all except the girl; Ana said she was ill and would be eating in her cabin. Tonight’s dinner was a special treat, Ana and Drake had brought meat-dried strips of real meat. Between that and the greens and tomatoes—Horns grew them in a small hydroponic garden on the ship’s abandoned leisure deck—it was almost a true meal. Almost.

  Bruno had tried to ignore the increasingly heated conversation between Marley and Ronk, but in spite of himself, he found he was listening with growing interest. Besides, this was the most he’d heard Ronk say in one sitting in all the time he had known him.

  “But we are better than animals or insects,” Ronk snapped. “We are made in the image of the Creator himself.”

  “See, that’s the thing, how do you know that? How do you know what the Creator looks like? No one’s seen him. It’s like we looked around and thought, ‘Hey no one else looks like us, we must be special.’ But what if we’re not?”

  “We are special. We have reason and compassion,” Ronk said in a low voice. His voice seemed calm, but Bruno noticed the engineer was gripping his knife tightly, as if to keep his fist from shaking. “It does not matter that no one has seen the Creator’s face. We have seen the works of his hands. You have never seen the wind, yet you feel its power. Do you doubt its existence?”

  “Oh, come on, I’m not arguing about whether the Creator exists. I can’t prove that and neither can you. What I’m saying is you can’t know anything about what the Creator is thinking or what he wants just by looking at the universe. Just like you can’t look at my fork and guess what I had for lunch.”

  “We do not need to guess. The Creator has told us what he wants of us through the words of his Prophet.” Ronk’s voice broke slightly at the mention of the Prophet. “Those who heed his words, follow in the path of truth.”

  “Oh! And that’s another thing, how do you know the Prophesies are right? I mean, we’re talking about a book collected from a bunch of other books, like, five thousand years ago. It’s been translated and retranslated so many times that I’m pretty sure stuff’s been lost. How do you know that what you’re reading is even what was written in the first place? And why choose this book over any other ancient book? All you have is your belief. I’m sorry, man, that’s just not enough for me.”

  Suddenly, Ronk stood up, knocking his chair over and juddering the table. He stared at Marley for a moment, his face unreadable. Then, without another word, he stalked off. Bruno watched him go, bemused.

  “Oh no! Did I say something wrong?” Marley was immediately distraught and turned to each person at the table. “I didn’t mean to offend him; I was just making a point.”

  “I’m sure he’s okay.” Bruno took the opportunity to look over at Ana at the opposite end of the table. “What about you? Do you think everything the Prophesies say are the ‘unvarnished’ words of the Creator?”

  The older woman wiped her mouth deliberately before she spoke.

  “Oh, I never discuss religion,” she said. “Especially not over dumplings.” She gestured at the young man beside her who produced an insulated food flask filled with dumplings—whose pork might possibly have even come from actual pigs. Amazingly, they were still hot. Bruno’s mouth watered at the sight of them. Now, it was a real meal.

  “He hates me,” said Marley.

  “He doesn’t hate you,” said Bruno.

  “Yes, he does. I insulted his religion.” She fingered the strap of the large gun she carried on her back. Bruno had asked her to keep it on her at all times.

  “It’s a big religion; it can take a little criticism,” Bruno said, distractedly. He had not seen the girl since she arrived on the ship the day before. Their destination on the small moon formerly known as Ganymede—before it was terraformed for human habitation and renamed Osiris—was only two days away. He had to draw the girl out and get her away from her captors before then. Once they landed, they’d be in hands of the Mehen and there was no telling what would happen to them after that. A plan had started forming in his head. It was vague and dangerous, but it just might work.

  They rounded a corner and Marley almost collided with Ronk as he emerged from the engine room. She ducked her head, unsure of what to do. They hadn’t seen each other since the disastrous dinner the night before. The big engineer frowned and looked at his hands. He started to speak, but Marley spoke first.

  “I’m sorry if I said anything blasphemous last night,” she said. “It’s just…I never think about that stuff—I mean, religion and all that—and you know me, sometimes when I open my mouth I don’t know what comes out.”

  Ronk’s frown deepened and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I am not insulted,” he said. He spoke in his characteristic short, clipped sentences. Apparently, only religion brought out his loquacious side, Bruno observed wryly. “What you said last night made me think. I have never truly thought about my faith. When I left the colony, I wanted the freedom to do as I pleased. Now, you have given me the freedom to think as I please. For that, I thank you.”

  Marley blinked at him, owl-eyed. Ronk nodded curtly and retreated back into the gloom of the engine room. She stared after him for a moment, and then broke into a smile that made her beautiful.

  “Did you hear that?” She turned to Bruno, beaming. “He thanked me. I think I’m going to die of happiness.”

  “We all have to die of something,” Bruno said dryly. He continued on to the cargo hold, Marley skipped after him like a little girl. In the depths of the hold, he began moving boxes and crates.

  “He said I freed his mind, can you believe that?” Marley chattered as she helped him move the detritus of past adventures. She stopped. “Hey, if we get married, will I have to convert?”

  Bruno’s cry cut her short. “Found it!”

  “Wait, that’s—”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You still have that? You can’t be serious, Bruno. You use that and we’ll be flagged for sure. Captain Moran warned us.”

  “We’ll be fine. There’s a lot more going on in this ship than some illegal smuggling.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, fearless leader.”

  “Me too,” said Bruno under his breath as he headed back to the bridge. “And stop calling me that!”

  The young man called Drake was sitting alone in the small lounge in the cabin bay. It was less a lounge than two armchairs and a tiny table in the middle of a rounded cul-de-sac just off from the mess hall. From there one could see all the doors of every cabin in the bay. It was the perfect place to keep watch—if that was one’s intention. He was examining his hands as if they belonged to someone else and looked up as Bruno stepped in.

  For all his size, he was much younger than Bruno had initially thought. No more than fifteen, if that. “Drake, right? How’s your sister?” he asked. “We haven’t seen her since you all came aboard.”

  “She…she prefers to be alone.”

  “Oh? Is she sick?” Bruno moved tow
ard the door, but the boy—for that was what he was, really—stood up to block his way.

  “No! I mean, well, she’s just resting.”

  Bruno nodded sceptically. He had expected a hardboiled veteran and had come prepared for a fight. This was not going as he had planned. He studied Drake a moment. “Is this your first time off-world?”

  He nodded.

  “How old are you?”

  The boy blinked in confusion. It was clear he wasn’t often asked personal questions. “Sixteen,” he answered slowly, as if afraid of getting it wrong.

  “That’s a good age. You know, Marley and I were about that old when we first went off-planet, too.”

  “Yeah?” The boy was impressed, and Bruno could see he struggled not to show it. “How did you leave?” He asked too casually.

  “We stowed away on a trade ship not much bigger than this one.” Bruno chuckled at the memory. The captain had been so angry he threatened to put them both in an airlock and flush them out to space. Instead, he had put the two orphans to work, caring for them like a father for three years. It was tough, but they had been lucky. They could have been sold to slavers.

  “What about your parents?” Drake asked.

  “Never had any.” That wasn’t exactly true. Bruno and Marley had never known their father, but their mother had been a dockside runner on Moonlight Bay. She’d sold charms and trinkets to sailors and spacers when the work was good and sold other things when it wasn’t. One day, when the twins were ten, she’d told them she had found work on a smuggler’s scow. She had Bruno and Marley wait for her on the deck of the ship while she went to see a man about some money he owed her. She never returned.

  “But we survived, Marley and me. We had each other. It’s important for family to stick together, isn’t it?”

  The boy shifted his weight at that, his eyes darting quickly to the door of their cabin. “That’s important,” he agreed reluctantly.

  “Then tell me the truth, what’s wrong with your sister? What’s she got?”

  “What? No, she’s not sick.”

  “Look, she’s been holed up in there since we’ve been space borne. You’re the only one who ever goes in there, so whatever she’s got, you can’t catch it. If it’s the shakes, we’ve got ways to deal with it—”

  “No, you don’t understand, it’s not like that, she’s fine.”

  “Then let me see for myself.” Bruno made to shoulder past, but Drake remained firmly in his path.

  “You can’t go in there!” There was a note of desperation in his voice and a look on his face almost like fear. Otherwise, the rest of him was steel.

  “You don’t tell me where I can and cannot go on my ship.” Bruno’s voice was dangerously low. “Do you understand?”

  “Is everything all right, Captain?” It was Ana.

  “I want to see your daughter.”

  “Has she done something wrong?” The crackle of the overhead speakers interrupted his response.

  “Boss, we’ve got company.” Horn’s voice was steady, but Bruno could hear the note of fear in it. “Big Brother is here.” He cursed softly. It was too soon.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have any brothers,” Drake said accusingly. The boy seemed hurt. He was so young, Bruno realised—younger than Bruno had ever been, even at that age.

  “It’s a literary reference, child, from a classic of Old Earth,” Ana said. There was amusement in her eyes. “I didn’t know you could read, Captain.”

  “You’d be surprised what I can do.” And with that, Bruno stalked off to the bridge.

  Captain Alistair Moran was a grizzled veteran of half a hundred battles and you could see every one of them on his body. He wore smoked glasses to hide the cybernetic implants that had replaced his eyes and one of his hands was robotic, though it was impossible to tell which because he wore black gloves all the time. He was a small man, bald—whether by choice or from another accident, no one could say—with a clean-shaven face crisscrossed with scars from laser blades, and a jaw that seemed permanently clenched. He stood rod straight in his grey Army Ranger uniform, black boots polished to a high shine. Bruno suspected that if anyone cared to measure, they would find that Moran stood at a precise 90 degree angle from the floor.

  His ship, the S.S. Gilgamesh had overtaken The Lady’s Gift easily and locked onto them with traction hooks. Twenty of his men had forced their airlock open and stormed the ship through an airtight bridge connecting the vessels. They rounded up the crew in the main hanger bay. Horns and Ronk both had looks of controlled fear, but Marley looked ready to beat someone’s head in. They had confiscated her gun and her lip was bleeding, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. Bruno noted that they had not found his guests yet, but knew it was only a matter of time.

  “Bruno Tertian.” Moran’s voice was hard as a leather whip. “What did I tell you about trawling contraband through my sky?”

  Bruno chose his words carefully. He was in very dangerous territory; Moran did not like wrong answers. “We don’t want trouble, we’re just on a routine run to Osiris.”

  “Oh? And if I search this ship I won’t find anything…untoward?”

  “We don’t—”

  But before he could finish, Moran’s hand flashed out and pain bloomed across Bruno’s face. Bruno fell to one knee in agony, blood pouring from his nose. He heard someone gasp—Marley or Horns, he could not tell whom. Moran had broken his nose with a casual flick of his wrist.

  “Don’t lie to me, Tertian,” he said quietly. “You know how much I hate being lied to.” He turned to his lieutenant, a big, pale-skinned man with a shock of red hair. “Search the ship.”

  It could not have been more than a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. Soon the big man returned carrying a sealed metal chest. It was very heavy, Bruno knew, but the lieutenant carried it with ease. Behind him, Ana and Drake followed. There was no sign of the girl. Ana showed no trace of fear; in fact, she had a small smile on her face. It grew larger when she saw Bruno on his knees trying to stanch the blood from his broken nose.

  “I hope there is no problem Captain…” She hesitated to get his name and the captain supplied it. “Captain Moran,” she finished.

  “No problem, ma’am. Did you know this ship was carrying contraband goods?” He nodded to the sealed chest. “A serious violation of the law.”

  “I had no idea, captain. We are just humble farmers on our way to a homestead on Osiris.”

  “Of course, ma’am. But we’re going to have to take you in for questioning. Just to be sure, you understand.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there’ll be any need for that. If you just confiscate the contraband, you can let us go on our way.”

  “That won’t be possible ma’am.”

  “I’m sure your command will understand,” Ana said, and produced an ID disk that Bruno had never seen before. It was a dull metal grey with no holographs on it except for a strange symbol in one corner. She flashed it at the captain, smiling broadly.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but rules are rules.”

  Ana’s smile died. “Who are you?” she demanded, but the truth had begun to dawn on her. “Where are your badges? What command do you belong to?”

  Moran smiled thinly. He still wore his Ranger uniform and still flew his military-class schooner. He made sure all his men wore their uniforms and that they carried standard-issue ranger rifles, but it was all a ruse. Alistair Moran hadn’t been an employee of the empire for a very long time.

  He turned to Bruno. “I’ve warned you, Tertian. Don’t let me catch you in my sky again. Next time, it won’t be your nose I’ll break.” He nodded to his lieutenant. The big man tucked the chest under one arm and grabbed Ana with the other. She squealed in pain as he twisted her arm, marching her off toward the airlock.

  Bruno almost felt sorry for her. “What are you going to do with her?” he asked.

  “Whatever I want,” Moran smirked. “The Red Priests are the reason I had to leave the
army. They owe me.”

  “What about the boy?”

  Moran examined Drake closely. The boy was expressionless, but the old pirate seemed to see something in his face.

  “He’s yours. Not my type anyway.” With that, he marched off. His soldiers filed silently after him. They still retained their military discipline, Bruno noted.

  He sighed with relief as the last of them walked through the airlock, sealing it shut behind him. He heard the metallic thonk as the traction hooks disengaged. Horns rushed to his side, helping him to his feet. The pain in his nose was now a dull throbbing. It was no longer bleeding, but he knew he had to tend to it soon.

  “Everyone all right?” Bruno asked his crew.

  “A bit roughed up, but fine,” said Horns. Marley gave him a thumbs up, grinning. A bruise was forming on her jaw, he saw. Ronk noticed it, too. He touched it gingerly; she winced in pain but did not turn away.

  “Good, let’s get out of here.” Horns nodded. Reluctantly, she let him go and headed to the bridge. Ronk headed to the engine room while Marley went down to the hold to check to see how much of their supplies Moran had taken.

  It was just him and the boy left. Drake looked lost and scared, but there was a determined cast in his jaw. He would be fine, Bruno knew.

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” Bruno said.

  “She was not my mother.” Drake’s voice was hard.

  “What happened to your sister? How come Moran didn’t find her?”

  Just as Drake opened his mouth to answer, the ship was rocked by a violent blast that sent them both stumbling. High above them, the skimmers swayed dangerously in their harnesses.

  Horn’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Bruno, they’re firing on us!” she cried.

  “Get us out of here!”

  “I can’t,” she said. “I can get the shields up, but nothing else is responding—”

  Ronk’s voice cut in.

  “Captain, they disabled the engine systems. They destroyed every control bank down here.”

  Bruno cursed under his breath. He knew it had been too easy. “Can you fix it?”