Sirens Journey: The Founder Saga

by Thomas Fay

‘You’re going to pay for that!’ he spat at me. That’s when I realised my mistake, as a pair of heavily muscled arms wrapped themselves around me.

  The young pilot wasn’t alone.

  There were at least three of them, although it was hard to tell through the hail of fists raining down on me. Within moments they had me on the ground and were using their reinforced EVA boots to full effect.

  ‘Stop it!’ Selize screamed. Surprisingly, they let go of me. As I struggled to lift myself up the young pilot leaned in towards me.

  ‘Next time, mind your own business.’

  Before I had a chance to say anything he formed a fist and struck me squarely in the face. The last thing I saw, before I blacked out, was Selize running out of the bar.

  3.

  I woke with a start. Sitting up, I winced as a jarring pain exploded at the base of my skull.

  ‘Take it easy,’ a nurse instructed. She was human, not Centaurian, and she was dressed in a white one-piece with a red cross emblazoned on the front. Not surprising, given the Dyson Alpha star port had been built in collaboration between the Centaurians and Minotaur Mining, the largest Earth-based deep-space resources conglomerate. The Centaurians retained sovereign control over the star port though, given its strategic location near the frozen moons, although Minotaur had an exclusive agreement to mine the frozen moons for three centuries.

  ‘What time is it?’ I asked, massaging the back of my head to alleviate the pain.

  ‘8.45 am. You’ve been out most of the night.’

  ‘What? I’ve got to be on a ship in fifteen minutes!’

  ‘I’m afraid the doctor hasn’t cleared you yet. You’ll have to wait until he signs you out. We’ll also need to do a head scan to ensure you haven’t suffered any permanent damage.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed.

  ‘Wait, you can’t just—’

  ‘My clothes?’

  Reluctantly, the nurse pointed to a stack of neatly folded garments.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she said.

  ‘So do I.’

  I quickly changed behind a modesty screen. I looked at myself in the mirror—a few cuts and bruises, nothing that wouldn’t heal within a day or two. I’d certainly suffered worse. I headed towards the door.

  ‘I hope she’s worth it,’ the nurse said.

  I paused.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Centaurian who came here for help.’

  That surprised me. Had Selize run straight to the medical centre? I couldn’t remember anything after I blacked out at the bar. Shaking my head, I realised I didn’t really have time to figure it out now.

  Stepping out into a well-lit corridor, I checked the time. It was 8.55 am. Increasing my pace, I sprinted all the way to dock 22-A. Not an easy feat given the 0.8 Earth standard gravity of the Dyson Alpha star port, which meant I kept lifting into the air, startling several star-port technicians along the way.

  Roger D greeted me with a grin.

  ‘For a minute there I thought you weren’t going to make it.’

  ‘Sorry, I got held up.’

  ‘I bet. C’mon, we’re ready to push off. I could use you in engineering. These star-port lackeys are useless when it comes to anything beyond class C.’

  ‘Lead the way.’

  The airlock cycled before us as I tried to catch a glimpse of Roger D’s ship through the narrow viewport. All I could see was a dark metallic hull glinting faintly in the light of Alpha Centauri’s stars. I found myself hoping it wasn’t some dilapidated old barge well past its use-by date. While I wasn’t expecting the sort of hardware the Space Navy had access to, I also wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of explosive decompression in deep space due to a poorly maintained ship.

  ‘Roger D!’ a voice bellowed. A young man, dressed in expensive tailored garments of the finest black silk, embroidered with gold details, was striding after us. He raised his arm, motioning for us to wait.

  ‘Time to go,’ Roger D said, as he grabbed my arm and propelled me through the open airlock. The stranger increased his pace, running towards us. I realised there was something familiar about him just as Roger D closed the rotating airlock door behind us, cutting off the stranger’s shouts.

  ‘Who was that?’ I asked.

  ‘That was … someone from a past I thought I’d left behind a long time ago.’

  ‘Not something you want to talk about, I take it?’

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Roger D looked at me closely.

  ‘No questions? I like that about you, John. Come on. Let me show you the engineering bay.’

  Stepping through a secondary reinforced airlock, I found myself aboard the Helios Ark. The cylindrical corridor in front of me looked like that of any other star ship, as did the grey panelling and indigo lighting. I followed Roger D through the central cabin and down another corridor. The ship was relatively small, an older model Cygnus-class transport most likely. It could be operated by two people, even one in the case of emergencies. It was a fairly common choice for free merchants. It was reliable, relatively easy to maintain and had a decent-sized cargo hold which could be used for transporting anything from raw materials to star-ship components or could even be configured for passengers.

  It was also one of the most commonly used ships by smugglers, arms dealers and drug traffickers. I’d personally shut down dozens of free merchants running illicit cargos in these ships during my time with the Space Navy.

  As the airlock to the engineering compartment cycled open, I sucked in my breath.

  ‘There she is,’ Roger D said.

  Dominating the oval-shaped engineering room was a class E engine, the most powerful ion drive in production. Its multitude of beryllium support shafts embedded into the walls, floor and ceiling made it look like a gigantic metallic spider. The engine itself looked brand new—its alloy casings glinted with reflected light as the power conduits pulsed with a steady hum. Although I had worked on several such engines during my time with the Space Navy they had always been fitted to intergalactic cruisers. I had never seen one installed in a ship this size before. Its sheer bulk left little room to manoeuvre around the already cramped engineering bay, which had been designed to allow a maximum of two technicians to operate at once.

  ‘Impressive,’ I said.

  ‘Expensive,’ Roger D grunted. ‘But worth it. You should see the look on people’s faces when the Helios Ark accelerates at full power.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘So you’ve worked on these before?’

  ‘Sure. I did a stint on the Erebus Prime station for Trojan. Most of their larger ships were equipped with class E engines. We also looked after a few Zenith-class Space Navy frigates which ran quad banks of these.’

  ‘Great. Take a look and let me know if the star-port techs put it back together properly before we crank it up. When you’re finished, come up to the main deck and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew.’

  I nodded as my mind absently conjured up images of the crew. I still had no idea how my new employer made a living and the constant throbbing in my head wasn’t getting any better. But I guess, as they say, beggars can’t be choosers, so I put it all aside and got to work.

  4.

  It didn’t take me long to run a full diagnostic on the class E engine. Everything checked out perfectly. Too perfectly, in fact.

  The engine was not only ridiculously overpowered but it had also been modified. Subtle changes to the standard factory conduits and power relays increased its efficiency by up to thirty per cent. Whoever had performed the modifications knew what they were doing. The power output was literally off the charts.

  An intercom crackled to life.

  ‘How’s it going back there?’ Roger D asked.

  ‘Finished,’ I replied. ‘Everything checks out okay.’

  ‘Good. Co
me up to the main deck and I’ll introduce you to the crew.’

  I walked out of the engineering bay and back along the corridor through the main cabin. As I made my way forwards through the ship I wondered if the structure would survive the amount of acceleration the class E engine was capable of generating. I guess I’d find out soon enough.

  ‘There you are,’ Roger D said. ‘Allow me to introduce the rest of the crew: Mason Turk, our systems specialist, Jeni Nix, medic and life support, and our pilot, Dayna.’

  As I greeted each of the crew members in turn, my breath suddenly caught in my throat. Dayna was not only strikingly beautiful but she was also a Centaurian. My thoughts instantly turned to Selize as the dull ache at the back of my head intensified.

  ‘Are you alright, sir?’ Mason Turk asked.

  ‘It’s just a headache,’ I replied.

  ‘You look very pale.’

  A strange remark, given Mason’s near-translucent skin. He was clearly an android and an older model at that. The Turk models were predominantly used in the Icarus Installation orbiting Jupiter. This one was certainly a long way from home.

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘You should sit down,’ Dayna suggested. Her crystalline eyes reminded me so much of Selize. Then the pain really hit and I staggered forwards. It felt like a steel spike was being slowly inserted into my brain, one excruciating millimetre at a time.

  ‘He’s going to black out!’ Jeni called out. She sprang to her feet and caught me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, struggling to breathe.

  ‘Rodge, he doesn’t look so good. I’m going to take him to the medical bay.’

  ‘Alright, but try to get him back on his feet quickly, as we may need him soon,’ Roger D said.

  ‘Do my best.’

  I felt a pair of small yet strong hands clamp around my waist. Jeni turned her blue eyes to look up at me.

  ‘Don’t get any ideas, okay?’

  I managed a weak smile as she helped me down the corridor. By the time we reached the medical bay the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing at the base of my skull.

  ‘I’m feeling better. I should—’

  ‘Lie down.’

  As my head touched the hard composite surface of the medical table, Jeni pressed something into my neck. A faint hiss of air betrayed the injection she had given me.

  ‘Something to help you relax while I try to figure out what’s wrong,’ she explained.

  I slowly drifted off.

  5.

  I was lying in bed next to Selize. As I stroked her bare shoulders, I watched Chiron rotating along its axis. The moon radiated an azure haze through the full-length viewing pane, causing Selize’s skin to shimmer with that ethereal quality unique to Centaurians.

  ‘Selize, wake up,’ I whispered in her ear. As she smiled up at me I saw myself reflected in her crystalline cat’s eyes. Those incredible multifaceted jewels sparkled with an inner fire that took my breath away. I reached out to stroke her face but my hand swept through thin air. Frowning, I reached out again. Once more my hand passed through her. Selize’s face began to recede into the distance.

  ‘I think he’s awake.’

  Blinking several times, I watched Selize’s face dissolve into that of another Centaurian. Dayna, I realised after a moment. Reality came rushing back in.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I asked.

  ‘You tell me,’ Dayna said. There was a distinct edge to her tone.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Who is she?’

  I looked around the medical bay. Jeni Nix and Roger D stared at me expectantly. Mason Turk’s face was, unsurprisingly, expressionless. Realising I had little choice, I answered truthfully.

  ‘Selize.’

  ‘So, I guess you weren’t talking hypothetically, then?’ Roger D asked.

  ‘No. I was an idiot and I never should have left her.’

  ‘You’re right about that,’ Dayna said. ‘How long have you been apart?’

  ‘It’s been about twelve hours since I saw her in the bar.’

  ‘That was Selize?’ Roger D asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are an idiot, although a very lucky one.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I replied, grinning.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Jeni asked.

  ‘Fine. What did you give me?’

  ‘PDP-3; it’s a neural inhibitor.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. It reminded me too much of the extreme neural conditioning given to Space Navy marines and fighter pilots, one of the main reasons I had resigned my commission.

  ‘What does it do?’

  ‘It suppresses the parts of your brain associated with emotional impulses, particularly those relating to your capacity to form attachments to others.’

  ‘You mean love?’

  ‘Yes. We’re still not a hundred per cent sure how the Centaurians form such a lasting connection with their chosen partners during the mating process. What we do know is that it somehow entwines the Centaurian with their chosen partner on a deeper telepathic level. We’ve found that even small doses of neural inhibitors can block the connection, although it can be quite unpleasant for the Centaurian.’

  ‘It allows the Centaurian and their partner to be away from each other,’ Roger D added. ‘Although it’s only useful in the first few weeks. After that … well, you’ll find out.’

  I nodded. Then a sudden thought struck me. I looked first at Roger D and then at Dayna.

  ‘You and Dayna?’ I asked.

  ‘The Centaurian bond is powerful,’ Roger D replied, placing his hand affectionately on Dayna’s shoulder. ‘But there were times when I needed to move around by myself.’

  ‘That explains how you knew so much back in the bar.’

  ‘Yes, and like I told you then, I’ve never heard of anyone interrupting the mating ritual.’

  Dayna leaned forwards and fixed her crystalline eyes on me.

  ‘The question is, what will you do now?’

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Selize’s face drifted up out of my subconscious to smile at me. I found myself smiling back.

  ‘I need to get back to her.’

  Dayna nodded as Roger D clapped me on the shoulder.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that but, unfortunately, we don’t have time for that now. We’ve got to leave immediately if we’re going to make our rendezvous. I promise once we’re done we’ll bring you back so that you can make things right.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. I know what it’s like. Now, come on all of you, back to work.’

  As Roger D led the way out of the medical bay, I caught sight of myself in the starboard viewport. Staring at my reflection, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly I’d gotten myself into. The two-week Space Navy extra-terrestrial encounters training course had certainly never contemplated situations like this.

  6.

  The docking clamps retracted as the Helios Ark’s manoeuvring thrusters fired intermittently. The ship rotated away from the Dyson Alpha star port and aligned on the UEP gateway.

  ‘This is UEP gate control Dyson Alpha. Cygnus-class transport ship, identify yourself and transmit clearance code for gateway activation,’ an automated voice chimed over the coms.

  ‘Gate control, this is the Helios Ark free-merchant vessel. Transmitting clearance code now.’

  ‘Clearance code acknowledged. Free-merchant status confirmed. Gateway activation sequence initiated.’

  The gateway powered up as the graviton flux generators produced streams of Vasnikov particles. Exotic energies began to form at its centre as the very fabric of space was twisted and bent to create a wormhole to an anchoring gateway. The Helios Ark’s manoeuvring thrusters pushed the ship into the swirling vortex of exotic particles. Crossing the event horizon, it was drawn out into an infinite length, materialising a split second later through an identical gateway on the other side.

  A series of gigantic space dock
s floated serenely in the blackness of open space. Their superstructures reminded me of the bones of some ancient leviathan, glinting in the light of the twin star system. Some had partially constructed spaceships inside, while others were empty. A swarm of space tugs manoeuvred between the docks like bees around a hive. The zero-gravity environment made it easier to manoeuvre sections of hull plating, powerful engines and entire habitat modules into place.

  The Epsilon Centauri shipyards were the most famous spacecraft-building installation in the known universe. Behind us, the UEP gateway powered down as the exotic vortex at its core dissipated into the vacuum of space. Three other UEP gateways were visible floating around the periphery of the space docks, including the one leading back to the Sol system, which had a pair of Space Navy defence platforms orbiting around it.

  ‘We clear?’ Roger asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Mason replied.

  ‘Dayna, she’s all yours.’

  The class E drive, the most powerful ion drive in production, ignited. A dense plasma trail spilled out behind the ship as it accelerated away from the UEP gateway. The plasma trail grew brighter as the powerful engine pushed the vessel up to its optimal cruising velocity of one-tenth the speed of light. The engine’s glow dimmed as, having achieved its target velocity, it switched to cruise mode. The ship continued through the vacuum of space, its speed established. The manoeuvring thrusters fired as Dayna corrected our course. The ship’s onboard graviton flux generator created a shield around the ship which absorbed any space debris that might damage the hull, as well as producing a gravity of around 0.8 Earth standard.

  I was impressed. Whoever had installed the class E drive knew what they were doing. Despite being designed for large, intergalactic cruisers, it worked perfectly in this small free-merchant vessel. The cost of such a conversion, not to mention the engine itself, was something only the wealthiest of free merchants would be able to afford. Which begged the question how a seemingly small-time operator like Roger D had acquired the necessary funds.