Darkspace Calamity

by Christopher Bodan

  Mr. Tomn looked at her and cocked his head, as if waiting for her to continue, and she realized that she could not have honestly said if she was talking to her cypher or not.

  “And there’s nothing we can do about it,” she muttered.

  “That’s not true,” Mr. Tomn said.

  Malya blinked, startled by the firmness in his voice, but Rin glanced over before she could say anything.

  “What did you say?” the sniper asked. Malya saw Rin regarding her through the riflescope.

  “I didn’t say anything. What are you doing?”

  “I can see every pore on your nose.”

  Malya laughed sharply. “Great. Thanks. That makes me feel better.” Rin turned back to studying lower deck.

  “I heard you,” Betty said. Malya started. She turned to see that the mechanic had not lowered her dog-eared copy of Crew Boss Monthly. She had leaned over the table, though, and pitched her voice low. “And I heard him, too.”

  “What?” Malya felt suddenly much more nervous than she should have. “I didn’t—” Betty lowered her magazine and frowned lopsidedly. “Who do you think you’re kidding? Look, I’ve been thinking about what you said when we left. No, hear me out. I think you’re talking a lot to us, and to your fuzzy friend there, but you’re really trying to kid yourself.” She nodded at Mr. Tomn. “You know what comes with him, right? And I don’t just mean a shot of esper now and again or someone to eat your muffins. It comes with having that glorious machine down in the hold, too.”

  Malya shook her head and looked away, but Betty leaned closer to press her point.

  “You keep saying you don’t know what’s next, but I think you do. I think you know and you just won’t admit it.” She sighed and softened a little. “You’re not just a simple racer, princess, for all that you wish you were. You’re not just royalty on the run or the biggest celebrity on the Speed Circuit for a generation, either. You’re a Knight—a Relic Knight, what’s more—and you’ve never squared with that and all the baggage that comes with it.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask for it,” Malya hissed. “There’s a responsibility with being Crown Princess of Ulyxis, too, and you see how well I’m living up to that. I don’t want anything I didn’t choose.”

  “We don’t get to pick most of what we get in life,” Rin said laconically. “We just get to deal with it.”

  “When did you get so philosophical?” Malya snapped.

  “When you spend as much time looking through one of these as I do, you get to reflecting on people, motivation, and life in general.” Rin replied without moving. “It strips away most of the little, unimportant things. Life looks clearer through a scope.”

  “So you’re a deep thinker now?” Betty asked with a teasing note in her voice. “I didn’t think they paid you for that as a—what’s the term these days? Racing Circuit Regulation Enforcement Professional?”

  “That’s right,” Rin said indignantly. “That’s exactly what I am. We just prefer being called spotters.”

  “You’re a sniper. You shoot people.”

  Rin turned her head to give Betty a baleful stare. “I’m a fully accredited and bonded Racing Circuit employee tasked with preventing race interference by outside elements.”

  “You shoot people.”

  “Yes. Before they can interfere with the races and hurt or kill the racers.” She waved toward Malya. “I’ve saved her life three times at least.” She leveled a finger at Betty. “And yours twice.”

  “Once, for sure,” Betty said quickly, raising one finger. She could not hide her smile. “That time on the Blackwood 50 doesn’t count.”

  “Says you,” Rin said, stuck her tongue out, and returned to her scope and staring.

  “Look, gussy it up however you want,” Betty went on, “but it doesn’t change who you are or what you do. You. Shoot. People.” She kept looking at Rin but turned her finger toward Malya. “And she is a Relic Knight, no matter if she’s also a racer, crown princess, and just passable cook.”

  “Hey!”

  Betty ignored the outburst. “Nothing’s going to change that basic fact.”

  “People are a lot of things; we’re complicated,” Rin said. “But you’re right. When you get down to it, there are some things that we are, whether we like it or not, and we have to deal with that sooner or later. That’s part of what I get to see through the scope.”

  “If that’s true, then you should have seen it for everyone down there,” Malya said, miffed at the conversation and getting cut out of it. “You’ve nearly stared through the hull. What in all the empty stars are you looking at, anyway?”

  Rin pursed her lips but did not lower the scope. “Funny you should ask. It seems like you’ve done a pretty good job at staying low profile. I’d guess almost nobody on this boat knows who you are.”

  “That’s the idea,” Betty said. “What’s your point?”

  “Well, I’ve noticed this chee—smooth and shiny chassis, kinda shaped like a pin-up chambermaid, awful lot of blue-white hair for a robot. She looks like a menial, but she’s clearly a passenger. I’ve seen her near us every day for the last six days.”

  Mr. Tomn stepped clear from under the table, alert and wary.

  “Six days?” Malya asked, sitting up straight. She had a clammy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “We’ve only been in space a week.” She looked over at her friend and spied a porter behind Rin making a beeline for their table. “Has she recognized us?”

  “I don’t know,” Rin said. “She’s definitely seen us, made eye contact with me a couple of times, but if she knows who you are, she hasn’t said or done anything about it.”

  “Message for you, miss,” the porter said, proffering a folded piece of stout paper.

  Betty was closer, so at Malya’s nod, the mechanic took the paper and thanked the man. Mr. Tomn tugged on her leg, but she shooed him away.

  “So, what about her?” Malya asked as the crewman started off. She shot a questioning look at Betty as she opened the message.

  “Well, it happens that this is a busy place,” Rin said, “and of all the times, of all the dining areas, that chee is in this one, right now, on the ground floor.” She lowered the scope and looked soberly at Malya. “And of all the people here, she’s staring directly at us. She’s been staring at us the whole time.”

  Malya nearly jumped to her feet, but Betty’s hissing intake of breath distracted her. She and Rin looked over at Betty who had gone pale. The letter trembled as she held it up.

  “It’s from Faust. He sent it just after we took off. The ship couldn’t receive it until we dropped out of slip space to recharge.”

  “Faust?” Rin said, and her expression darkened. “Asger Faust?”

  “You know any other Fausts?” Betty asked.

  “He’s one of the biggest crime lords on Cerci, and his star’s still rising,” Rin said. She kept staring at Malya. “How do you know Asger Faust?”

  Malya shrugged a bit defensively. “We’ve brushed up against each other a couple of times. Everything on Cerci comes back to the races sooner or later, especially the organized crime.”

  “So why’s he sending you messages, and how’s he doing it when even your manager doesn’t know where the empty stars you are?”

  Malya swallowed past a sudden, uncomfortable lump in her throat. “I’ve no idea. What’s he say, Betty?”

  The mechanic glanced between them. She looked very pale. “He says he’s sorry.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”

  “Well,” Rin said with a rueful expression, “that can’t be good.”

  Alarm klaxons blared across the ship, and all three women jumped. They glanced sheepishly at each other as the captain’s voice came over the public-address system. “Ladies and gentlebeings, this is your captain. I regret to inform you that we have encountered some serious difficulties. We have pirate vessels off our port side. They have disabled our engines and are signaling for us to heave-to. I fear we must comply. Please return t
o your quarters immediately. I’m certain they won’t—”

  Static flooded the speakers and a new voice came on, feminine, confident, and sounding supremely pleased with herself. “Good day, future victims,” she said. “My name is Calico Kate, and I’ll very shortly be robbing each and every one of you. Have your valuables ready for us, and everything will be over quickly. Resist and, well, let’s just say this is a bad corner of space to be marooned in.”

  The screaming erupted almost immediately. All three women remained seated as the crowd dissolved into chaos around them.

  “You think it’s as simple as that sounds, just a smash-and-grab job?” Betty asked.

  “Nope,” Rin replied. She looked at Malya. “I have a feeling they’re not just after wallets and watches.”

  “Yeah,” Malya said. She squared her shoulders and nodded resolutely. “Even if they are, we can’t take the chance. Betty, call the crew and tell them to start herding people back into the arboretum; Kate doesn’t care about trees, so they should be safe there. The best place for the pirates to dock is a few sections forward of here, so they’ll have to come through this food court. Rin and I can slow them down here and buy you more time.”

  “Copy that, boss lady,” Betty said and pulled her personal comm from her pocket.

  Rin grinned at the princess as she stood. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you haven’t,” Malya replied.

  Rin shrugged. “Girl’s got to have a hobby.” She eyed the throng around them. “I’ll just get my tools.”

  “Grab mine too,” Betty called.

  Rin nodded and shoved her way toward the door.

  “Remember what I said about being a Knight?” Betty asked, grinning, as she took cover behind the low wall around the open space.

  “Trying not to,” Malya replied as Mr. Tomn jumped onto her shoulder. “All right, then. Let’s show them we’re not an easy mark.”

  She pulled esper to her, green motes of power circling her in a violent swirl. She touched the essential element of all creation, that which was both energy and matter, and bent it with her will. Just for an instant, reality moved around her. With a rush and a subsonic roar, Sedaris appeared in the space the crowd had just vacated. The people still nearby stumbled back, shocked. Though at a glance the relic resembled nothing so much as a high-performance racing hover bike with wiry arms and legs attached, the machine radiated an aura of barely restrained power and explosive speed. Malya could not stop grinning as she mounted up and slipped on her helmet and goggles. She kicked the starter. Sedaris rose gently on its anti-grav lifters, and its limbs unlocked. For the first time in over a week, she felt comfortable, controlled, and complete.

  She revved the engine and shot out into the air above the food court. Two quick circuits gave her a good feel for the atrium, and years in the highly competitive Cerci racing scene showed her all the likely hiding spots for someone looking to take a potshot at her. The professional part of her took a great comfort in knowing that she’d have Rin shooting back.

  The crowd had mostly vacated the floor, except for far too many who had been injured in the panic. Crew members were trying to help them where they could, and Malya swooped down to a knot of stewards around four unconscious people. She settled Sedaris beside them and flipped a switch, extending the machine’s tail into a fan usually used for greater control at high altitudes and high speed.

  “Put them on here,” she shouted. “I’ll fly them to the infirmary.”

  The men stared at her for a second but quickly complied.

  She noticed that two of them had pistols on their belts. “You planning to resist?”

  The tallest steward nodded. He had snow white touches in the dark hair at his temples and in his expertly trimmed mustache. “Yes. We’ve already received a reply to our distress call. There’s a paladin cruiser nearby.”

  Malya felt her chest unknot, and she breathed deeply in relief, though the man still looked grim.

  “We just don’t know how long it will take.”

  “We’re trying to get everyone we can into the arboretum. My friends and I will delay them here.”

  The man nodded as his people settled the last passenger on the relic. “I’ll tell the captain. We’ll send you some help, if we can, but if we put most of our people on the two decks above this, we should be in good shape.”

  She smiled at him and gunned the engine. “You’ve done this before, I think.”

  He shrugged. “Once or twice.” He sketched a loose salute and shouted to his men to grab more of the injured.

  As Malya rose into the air and pulled up a ship’s floor plan to find the infirmary, she noticed a solitary figure standing at an overturned table. A chee woman, her chassis designed to look like she was wearing a maid’s outfit, and also actually wearing a classic maid’s uniform, watched her with rapt attention.

  “Get to cover,” Malya shouted as she flew into the hall.

  The woman did not move.

  She clicked on her comm. “Betty. Betty, when you get a chance, get down to the bottom deck. That chee that Rin spotted is still standing there like a yokel at a circus. Get her out before she gets killed, will you?” She shook her head and concentrated on flying.

  Chapter 3

  Tranquil Wind, food court

  The screaming confused Cordelia. She had heard the announcement, first from the captain and then from the pirate, but the panic all around her made no sense. If the pirates really were just coming to take their valuables, why so much concern?

  “They said they won’t hurt us,” she had tried to explain.

  Still, the organics all ignored her and kept trying to run.

  “You can get new stuff,” she said, a bit plaintively. She sighed and decided that she must have missed something. Again.

  Cordelia stood when someone knocked over her table and clicked on her access to the Chee Interspace Network. The familiar film of the data overlay fell across her vision. She fought to a calm space amid the pushing, shoving crowd as she searched for information on pirate attacks and Calico Kate specifically.

  The data scrolled up a few seconds later. Calico Kate, pirate. Real name unknown. Self-styled “Queen” of the corsairs operating out of the Great Star Nebula. Known proclivities: Explosives. Lots of them. Often prefers to destroy captured starships instead of ransoming or selling them. Known to have no compunction about murder but Alliance Security considers her far less bloodthirsty than many of her associates. Outstanding criminal charges include: piracy – 11,000+ counts; assault – 104,000+ counts; theft . . .

  “Oh,” Cordelia muttered as the information flowed past her. “Oh. That’s not what she said.” She noted the familiar woman with sky-blue and blonde hair ride into the air above her on some kind of racing bike with arms. She had several injured people on her machine, and she looked at Cordelia while speaking into a communicator. Cordelia wondered who she was talking to. Then the moving data paused on a list of Calio Kate’s known violent offenses. “Kate said she wouldn’t hurt us. I think she lied.” She scrolled down to the common associates of Captain Kate. “Well, that makes more sense of the panic,” she remarked.

  “Hey,” someone shouted at her.

  Cordelia blinked, but she did not dismiss the data overlay. She glanced around, trying to watch the feed and the real world at the same time. The food court had mostly emptied, but a sandy-haired human woman jogged toward her. Instantly the data overlay switched to match up with her optical input. Tags appeared over the shorter woman’s features, matched them to data files, and pulled up that information: Betty Jones, Pit Chief of Team Ulyxis; Racer: Princess Malya, known acquaintances—

  “Hey,” Betty shouted again as she got close. “Snap out of it.”

  Cordelia’s eyes whirred as they shifted focus to Betty. She dismissed the overlay unconsciously. “So that was Princess Malya.”

  “What? Yeah, that was her,” Betty said, her concern ra
pidly shifting to confusion and irritation. “You can surf for highlight vids later. Right now, you’ve got to get out of here.”

  Cordelia cocked her head to the side and finally sorted all of her data into the correct order. “Oh, right. Because of the pirates.”

  “And now she gets it,” Betty mumbled. “Yes, because of the nasty pirates. Get to the arboretum with everyone else.”

  “The crew is going to resist,” Cordelia said matter-of-factly. “Kate said they wouldn’t hurt people, but she almost always does hurt people, so that was a lie.”

  “Are you . . . ?” Betty paused and frowned at the chee. “Are you okay? Were you cross-wired as a child?”

  “Oh, no, I’m just a little slow sometimes,” Cordelia replied in the same even tone. “But I’m useful.” She reached behind her right hip and activated the release mechanism with a mental command. A metal tube attached to a square housing popped from her back into her hand, and trailed a flexible cable as she held it out for Betty to see. The tube extended with a snap. Cordelia grinned.

  Betty’s jaw fell open. “A vacuum? Are you kidding me?”

  Cordelia’s smile widened. “Wait for it.”

  She pressed a small button on the housing under her thumb. Her forearm opened and parts extended into the housing. The tube continued to lengthen and started to narrow slightly until it became an unmistakable gun barrel. The housing expanded and deepened, shifting into the frame and furniture of an enormous rifle.

  Cordelia hefted the finished weapon, longer than she was tall, with casual ease. “See?”

  Betty stared at the weapon. “What kind of maid are you?”

  “The helpful kind.”

  Both women glanced around at the sounds of muffled explosions.

  Betty shook her head and grabbed Cordelia’s arm. “Well, come on, then.”

  ***

  Golden Vance stalked through the halls of coach-class cabins like a tornado through an orchard. All around, his crew ripped through the lodgings and tossed out anything that looked valuable with practiced efficiency. They ignored or bound those few passengers who still tried to hide, though most had fled. Vance had to admit that not dealing with the former owners of his new booty simplified things, but it still irritated him that he had no one to torture or terrify—and he viciously needed something to hit. Up ahead, he could hear shots and shouts as the crew continued to resist. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to go up there and take out his frustrations.