Eric Olafson: Space Pirate

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  On our way back to the spaceport, I could not ignore the gangs of humans and other beings everywhere with brooms and shovels fighting what seemed a hopeless battle against the dust and sand, accumulating in doorways and on sidewalks.

  Everyone on foot wore cloaks in probably every shade of brown, and it was getting dark now. I also noticed the strange hopping movements almost everyone around us and before us was making. She warned me and pulled me at the sleeve. I almost stepped in a big pile of reeking greenish dung.

  She whispered, “The lizards drop them everywhere. Walking here is called the Alvor two-step.”

  Other slaves had the disgusting duty to scoop those droppings into buckets.

  She nodded toward the slaves. “I detest it as much as you do, but open war is not the answer. Something has to be done, but subtle and not with the Terran sledgehammer.”

  I gave her a side look and noticed my long whiskers twitching in my field of view. “I hear that all the time, but I think sometimes the sledgehammer method shows others who’s boss.”

  She sighed. “As I said, you’re a real Terran, no matter what colony planet you come from.”

  We reached the mouth of the canyon and before us, stretched the landing field. I could see the brown slave trader awkwardly leaning on its side. A makeshift scaffold was growing around it, probably to hoist the core back in. Two other ships were there as well. There was a smaller courier ship and a genuine SII Poodle IV, known to be the first privately available long distance ship and a true antique.

  She guided me to one of the stone buildings and into a sparsely furnished passenger lobby. There were only about a dozen beings in that bare waiting lobby. It had a glass front and a few crude-looking benches, nothing else.

  After we sat down, she said, “War will come again. It is certain. All we can do is delay it as long as possible.”

  I remembered the Kermac wizard who was a slave just like me, but he confirmed what I believed about them. “It’s the Kermac who agitate and pull the Tyranno’s fin. They did that even before Terrans were around! They tried to attack us with psi spores. It was them who sent spies and had me abducted!”

  She patted my furry legs. “Of course, you are correct, but I am also a spy for a long time, and to be a successful one, you need to learn to see things with the eyes of your enemy.”

  I glared at her and said, without thinking, “It can be very dangerous to do that. One might lose focus and not only see things like the enemy but think like them as well!”

  “I am very aware of that, and our common friend Richard Stahl said that to me more than I can count. You are in many ways very much like him!”

  “I doubt Admiral Stahl would dress up as a Sojonit and enjoy every second of it!”

  She laughed. “That is true. He actually would rather die!”

  A fat human in blue robes and dust mask came in, and he was followed by six naked slaves. Each of them carried great loads. The fat man barked at his slaves, and they set up a table and cylinders and boxes on top of it. The blue-dressed man placed himself on the table and yelled in several languages, including Union idiom, “Water, refreshments, perfumes, carbo snacks and meat sticks. Get them before you leave on your long trip. There won’t be any refreshments on the transport.”

  Twenty minutes later, we boarded the old Poodle converted to something like a passenger transport. Two Togar males rudely pushed a Karthanian out of the way and then I realized they did that for me.

  We found out seats and settled down, and moments later, the Poodle lifted off into space.

  Chapter 6: Kaliment

  As old as the Poodle was, it was surprisingly well-maintained, and the small crew kept it reasonably clean. I was not very comfortable, which was partially due to the disguise I wore. The fine soft pelt of my costume proved to be quite warm, and for some reason, they kept the cabin temperature well in the thirties on the C scale. It felt just like sitting in a Nilfeheim sauna wearing a Fangsnapper fur coat. Well, maybe not that extreme, but certainly close.

  The Poodle space ship we had boarded was an antique, at least fifteen hundred years old, but its basic shape looked just the same as the latest Poodle model coming off the assembly lines. Two, thirty-meter diameter ball-shaped spheres connected to each other with a short cylinder about ten meters in diameter. This gave the ship the appearance of an old-fashioned dumbbell weight.

  On top of the first sphere, was an elongated pointed wedge. It contained the bridge and other command and control functions. Two ISAH pods on each side of the aft sphere completed pretty much the outside looks of a Poodle. Terrans said that the ship was ugly as sin and if it stood on its long landing gear, it looked just like a groomed Poodle, which was some sort of pet also native to Terra.

  The passenger area and living quarters were inside the first sphere, and freight, fuel, and engineering were in the second sphere. In case of an emergency, the Poodle could separate, and the first sphere would become a rescue pod.

  Due to the shape of the passenger compartment, we did not sit in rows as one would on a Union space bus. The seat rows followed the curve and completed an almost complete circle. The center was occupied by the ship’s access shaft and two hygiene cells. There was a little bar and a small, currently unstaffed galley.

  The set-up had room for about a hundred passengers, but only perhaps twenty-five took the journey with us.

  I pretended to be sleepy and curled up on that unyielding passenger seat to prevent any conversation with the two Togar males, sitting almost exactly across from me.

  They did keep their distance, but my companion said, whispering but with an amused tone in her voice, that at least one of the Togar was considering getting mauled and injured for a chance with me.

  Why she found it amusing, I did not know. However, I found the situation anything but amusing. It wasn’t me who’d decided I had to pose as a Togar female in the first place.

  However, compared to the recent events and situations, this was not all that hard to endure, and we had left that cursed dustball a few moments ago. Through one of the viewports, I saw the welcome blackness of space and the light of a few stars brilliant and unfiltered by any atmosphere.

  Not for the first time did I wonder about my own love of space and then, whenever I had to step out into it, I was afraid.

  My bodyguard snapped at the two Togars and said to them, “She has chosen, and if you want to cause trouble and disrespect her, go right ahead, but know that she is of the Lalhestes.”

  Whatever a Lalhestes was, it worked; the two males looked for seats as far away as possible and settled down.

  I asked, “So where exactly are we going and what is a Lalhestes?”

  She leaned closer, as my real ears were covered with Bioflex material and my hearing was somewhat impaired and said, “We are on our way to planet Kaliment. It is probably more to your liking, as temperatures never exceed ten degrees and usually hover around minus twenty on the C scale. There is no native life on Kaliment other than a selection of primitive amoeba and plankton that floats around in vast quantities in the planet’s oceans.”

  I listened and found that a planet with decent temperatures and oceans could not be all that bad.

  She added, “Kaliment also has an abundance of a rare crystalline form of Magnetite, a mineral absolutely vital to space-faring civilizations.”

  I had to correct her because maybe she had spent too much time in Free Space. “That stuff hasn’t been used since Dr. Isah completely redesigned the FTL drive Sarans gave to Earthers almost three thousand years ago. We don’t even use it in blasters anymore, because it is not very efficient, and unreliable compared to the reliable and ninety-nine percent more efficient ISAH lattice that can be manufactured to the exact same specifications instead of using a natural rare crystal, that, like all natural things, is never completely the same.”

  She patted my hand. “Yes, my Union child, indeed. No one in the Union with ready access to ISAH components considers Kalimun, as
the Kartanian call it, anything but a nice export mineral. Consider this, my Soya. Not every civilization is as obsessed with efficiency as the Terrans. The Sarans used Kalimun for thousands of years and were quite surprised when ships of United Terra outran their ships only ten years after they gave Terra the secret of FTL propulsion. We are in Free Space, and we are now approaching an area that is claimed by both the Kartanian and the Togar. No one outside the Union can simply place an order for ISAH Pods over GalNet and get precisely engineered FTL engines a few month later delivered by freighter. The process of how the lattice is synthesized that holds the antimatter containing magnetic fields in precise balance is known only to ISAH Inc, Earth and they managed to guard its secrets even against other Union competitors.”

  I swallowed the hidden critique at my ignorance and said, “So, this planet we are going to is not in Free Space anymore?”

  She chuckled, and since her disguise was quite real, she managed to curl the enormous chops of that Oghar maw into a quite frightening grin. “That, my Soya, is a question that many would like to have answered and a situation that simmers slowly to a boiling point that will mean war.”

  She shifted her position so she could more easily talk to me and said, “We are far from the influence of the Big Four now. Even the Galactic Council borders are over seven hundred light years from here and are only marked because a quite primitive and completely unimportant Thrall species of the Kermac occupies a few planets in that region. The Shiss, the Nul, and of course, the Union, are even further away. Technically, and by the original Free Space treaty, this is the outer fringes of that area. Free Space is, as you know, an area declared to be free of the influence and interference of the Big Four.”

  That I knew; the entire text and the reasons for the Free Space treaty were discussed at length in Galacto-political class and were subject to detailed graded tests. “I had to learn about Free Space and the treaty negotiated by the Blue, but I don’t think I ever heard about this world or the Togar being involved.”

  She agreed with a nod. “The Kartanian were among the larger civilizations that signed the Free Space treaty but the Togar did not. They weren’t even asked. Back then, they were barely known, and none of the Big Four considered them even remotely important or relevant at that time.”

  She scratched her scaled chin with her long yellow claw-like fingernails and continued, “To get back to the actual subject, no one paid particular interest to this system and the planets in it, until the Togar more or less by accident found that Kaliment had more Kalimun than all their other sources together. The bad part is that there was a Kartanian survey ship in the system at that time as well and overheard their planet to mother ship conversations. Now both claim that world and both have built a permanent basis that grew into a city; a clearly divided city, of course.

  “Now the Togar are much more numerous and have the far bigger fleet than the Kartanian, but the Kartanians are technologically almost on Union level and have built their entire culture around building space ships. Because of this, the Kartanian fear the Togar will catch up on developing technology. While the Togar fear that the Kartanian will start building war fleets on their own instead of relying on Oghar services to do the fighting for them.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous for me to pose as a Togar female then?”

  She shook her head. “No, it is not. The Kartanian are not ready to light the fuse on this explosive situation by harassing a Togar female. If my intelligence in that situation is correct, the Togar are itching for a fight.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think a war between them out here would have any influence on the Union. I say, let them fight, but after we return to Union Space.”

  “Wars have a tendency to spread, my impatient Soja.”

  I assumed that Soja was the name associated with my Togar outfit, so I didn’t ask her what it meant, but I did ask, “Why are we going there anyway?”

  “Because there are no flights from Alvor’s Cove to Netlor and hiring a privateer to get us there is tricky, dangerous and with the short time we had to leave, impossible. We will, however, do just that and hire us a charter to get us to Netlor as soon as we land.”

  “So we won’t stay long?”

  “No, because eventually one of the many Togar will ignore the sash, work up his courage and see if he can convince you to abandon the way of Lalhestes.”

  I protested, “You said the costume is safe, and I would not be bothered. What is that Lalhestes thing anyway? I think I asked that before.”

  She rolled her yellowish eyes. “It is reasonably safe. You have a bodyguard, and you have claws; use them freely, no one is going to ask you why. If one of the Togars over there makes any gestures you don’t like, just go over there, take off half of his snout, and he gets the message. So, don’t worry, I promise you, everything will be fine.” She then added, “A Lalhestes is a Togar female who prefers other females and they are considered exalted in a matriarchal society, of course. It might keep them away for good, or it might heighten their interest, as their minds in that regard work very similar to human male brains.”

  I spent the rest of the flight clutching my blaster and one of the long knives and did not dare to sleep. Every time one of the Togars moved, I was ready to fight.

  Despite her assurance that she was watching over me and that there was no cause for alarm, I could not relax or put my mind at ease.

  We reached Kaliment seven days after we left Alvor’s Cove. One of the Togar males had to be carried out on a stretcher. He had been bandaged but had received no other medical attention. My fears had proven to be right. Just as my companion started to snore, one of them came sneaking over, making no noise on his cat-like paws, clearly excited and not thinking straight anymore.

  I found out what terrible weapon finger-long claws could be as I raked them across his face and plunged the long knife into his abdomen.

  After that, I actually found a little piece of mind to doze a little.

  We left the Poodle right after the stretcher.

  Now I was glad for my pelted costume. The wind was howling and drove fine ice crystals over the landing field. It wasn’t nearly as cold as it could be on Nilfeheim, but still a stark change to Alvor’s Cove and the overheated passenger compartment of the Poodle.

  Mother Superior, in her Oghar form, didn’t seem to mind the cold wind as I followed her and the other passengers to a floater. I didn’t know the local time or if it was morning or evening; the dense gray cloud cover did not allow me to see the local sun. After the floater had taken us into the air, I could see the city beyond the landing field. The city was split in half, just as if a giant had used a knife. Each side was lit by thousands of lights. The right side had an orange glow and the lights on the left shined a greenish hue. In between them was a dark strip that extended over the landing field and became a narrow black line that extended all the way to the horizon.

  She noticed me looking at it and said, “That is an artificial trench, ten meters deep, forty meters wide and follows a straight line from pole to pole. There are no bridges or tunnels connecting the two sides. All traffic and interaction between the two sides is limited to the City and done by flyer only.”

  I followed her explanations, but my eyes caught a sleek ship that was most certainly not Kartanian, Kermac, or whatever. It looked Union, with big oversized ISAH Pods. It was armed with Loki torpedo launchers and had several retracted gun turrets as I could see by the closed gun ports. The entire ship was colored in a bright aluminum metallic red. I estimated her to be about 750 meters long. A yellow rendering of a snake with claws and wings was painted all along its sides. I always prided myself as a space ship expert and even before I joined the Fleet, I’d tried to learn all the ship types. I was certain this came from Union designers, but I was also certain I had never seen any ship quite like it.

  I looked to her to ask, but she appeared to be as surprised as I was. Her eyes were glued to the red ship as well. She finally said, �
�That is the Red Dragon. It belongs to a new and mysterious pirate. He appeared only recently and with a ship that no one can identify, and many think it is a complete custom job. The pirate captain owning it also calls himself the Red Dragon. He managed to become one of the most wanted pirates in a short time. There are rumors that he has excellent connections to the Kartanian Consortium and that Jibehs the Hullmaker is somehow associated with that man.”

  I pointed with my snout toward the ship and said, “I see two Loki Torpedo starters on this side. Despite the red coloring, I am almost certain that’s Ultronit. That ship isn’t Kartanian, I am certain.”

  She grabbed me by the arm and said, “Just this time let’s keep the details of that pirate ship a mystery a little longer. We have a schedule to keep, and you have an appointment with Admiral Stahl.”

  I sat back down and said, “I am the last to argue that. I want to get back home really bad.”

  “Then don’t get up and think about ways to get over that trench and closer to that ship.”

  At first, I wanted to argue and protest. Why would I want to get myself into more trouble or another side-tour so close to getting back? But then I realized she was right. I had stood up, and I did check out that trench and the layout of things. Somewhere inside, I had already begun to hatch a plan to somehow sabotage that ship, blow up those Lokis and find out where he got them from.

  Meekly, I crossed my arms and lowered my head. “Am I that predictable?”

  She nodded. “After knowing you a little while, I am afraid so. There are those who live their entire lives doing their jobs, and nothing will ever happen to them, and then there are those like you, who could walk into a flower shop to buy a bunch of roses and end up fighting a galaxy-wide conspiracy. You, my friend, belong most definitely to the latter type.”

  There wasn’t much I could say to that. Reflecting on my life so far, she certainly had a point.

  The flyer descended and landed a few seconds later at a terminal that looked sturdy but incomplete. Some window panes were missing, not all lights were working, and as we walked inside, I noticed cracks in the walls and sloppy paint jobs.