Defending the Galaxy: The Sentinels of the Galaxy

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Thanks for the picture,” I say. “I love it. It’s fantastic.”

  “Did you manage to smuggle it past the dragon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll give you a few more to take back with you if you’d like.”

  Instead of answering, I straddle his lap and kiss him. It’s a long deep kiss. One that I’ve been dreaming of doing since we parted. I rake my fingers through his hair and am rewarded with a low sexy groan. By the time we come up for air, I’m lying on the couch with Niall beside me.

  “I’m guessing that’s a yes for more pictures,” he says, a bit breathless.

  It would be a yes for much more, but Radcliff is in the next room. My answer is to reclaim his lips and we don’t bother talking for a long while.

  Our time together ends far too soon. After straightening our clothing and hair, and saying good night to Radcliff, Niall and I stop in his unit. He fishes a couple smaller pictures from the tube he’d tried to give me on my first day of being grounded.

  One has fuzzy bunnies with weapons. They’re peeking out from under something. Curtains maybe? I peer at it in confusion until it hits me. It’s a blanket. “Dust bunny assassins!”

  “Small, but mighty.” He cocks his head. “Like you.”

  “Hey! I’m taller than my mother.”

  “Rance’s son Trevar is taller than your mother. That doesn’t count.”

  The next drawing is just six rows of ten squares with numbers inside each one. The numbers start at two hundred and fifty-four and go to three hundred and fourteen. “A countdown?” I smile. Day three-fourteen is my eighteenth birthday.

  He gives me a piece of black chalk. “You X out each day. Go ahead and update it.”

  Starting at day two-fifty-four, I cross out nine squares. And, I have to admit, it feels good. “Fun.”

  The last picture is of the two of us. We’re standing back to back and wearing our security jumpsuits. Holding flashlights out as if poofing shadow-blobs, we have serious expressions. There’s a tiny mouse on Niall’s shoulder who’s also shining a flashlight. I search and find the toad equally armed on my weapon belt.

  I look at Niall. “Is this from when we first fought the shadow-blobs together?”

  “Yeah, but without the techs and other officers. With only you being able to see the enemy, this is how I felt. That you had my back.”

  Aww. That’s sweet. I wrap my arms around his neck and go up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Thanks.”

  Niall helps me hide the drawings under my shirt before we head back to my parents’ unit. We hold hands and I practically drag my feet.

  “You can’t be late or we’ll both be in trouble,” Niall says, pulling me along.

  When we arrive, Niall squeezes my hand before letting go. “Fifty-one more days, Mouse. You can make it.”

  At one point in my life fifty-one days wouldn’t have seemed that long. But life has become precious and every day is important. I press my palm to the lock. The door opens. I’ve mixed emotions. If they didn’t fix the lock, I could have ratted them out to Radcliff.

  My parents are sitting in the living area. Mom jumps to her feet and glances at the clock. We’re two minutes early, but she still looks unhappy to see Niall with me. Too bad.

  “Where’s your father?” Mom asks Niall.

  “He’s working. He’ll send you a report about the interview in the morning.” He turns to me. “Night, Mouse.”

  And then he’s gone, taking all the colors with him. I head to my room.

  “Wait,” Mom says. “What happened with Jarren? Did he talk to you?”

  I stop with my hand on the doorknob. “You can read the full account in the morning. I’m going to bed.” Entering the room, I shut the door behind me, being careful not to slam it. Then I wait.

  Will my mother come in and demand the story now? Or will my father enter with something sweet to bribe me? Lyra would have sat down with her parents as soon as she returned home and told them everything that happened. Ara is still pissed at being grounded. When no one taps on my door, I go into the washroom and carefully remove my contraband. Hanging the new pictures with the other one on the washroom’s door, I step back and admire the collection. Then I change into my pajamas and go to bed.

  Instead of sleeping, I connect to Q to see if I can discover who Jarren’s navigators are. It was a guess, but his reaction meant it was a good one. I could further investigate the likelihood of shadow-blobs breaking through the looters’ portals, but in that case, I can’t do anything other than warn them. Huh. Would I warn them? Right now, I can’t contact them, but I expect that to change. After a few minutes of contemplation, I decide that, yes, I would warn them. I am one of the good guys after all.

  I return to the problem of the navigators. I consider what I know of Jarren. When he arrived on Xinji, he was thirteen A-years old and already good with worming. He claimed to have been taught by Warrick Nolt on his previous home, Planet Kaiping. Since the name is just an alias for Jarren, then who did he really learn from? I pull up the personnel records for Kaiping’s research base and start going through the list.

  I find a teenager that was two A-years older than Jarren, named Rick Nolwart. It’s not hard to rearrange the letters in his name to come up with Warrick Nolt. Jarren may be a genius with the Q-net, but he’s not very creative. Reading through Nolwart’s file, I scan the list of his infractions that start out minor and escalate until Nolwart is spending more time in detention than at soch-time. In fact, Nolwart was serving a ninety-day sentence when Jarren left for Planet Xinji. Jarren probably couldn’t say good-bye to his friend. I wonder if this was when Jarren started hating DES.

  Asking Q to find the Interstellar Class space ship Jarren traveled on to Xinji, I ask it to please list the navigators who were working during that time. While Q is digging out the information, I mull over why a navigator would help Jarren.

  The job is highly technical and only the very best pass the rigorous training, the full mental evaluation, and background tests that are all required to become a navigator. No matter if it’s an Interstellar, Exploratory, or Protector Class space ship, they each only employ four navigators. Working eight-hour shifts, they rotate their schedule so they each get a couple days off. They, along with the captain of the space ship, are granted full access to the Q-net, a rarity. Only the highest level of DES has that access.

  I remember how overwhelmed I was when I first entered the Q-net with Chief Hoshi during my brief internship. The vastness stretched toward infinity, and the star roads streaked through it like silver rivers of liquid starlight. I wonder if I could pass all the requirements to become a navigator. Probably. Captain Harrison did say I’m a strong candidate. But what if I really wanted to become one and failed?

  Groaning into my pillow, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner! Navigators wouldn’t teach Jarren how to be a better wormer and how to build complex blockades around planets. No, they’re the good guys, too. It has to be someone, or a few people, who failed and are bitter about it, blaming DES. They would have the skills, but not the access, unless they wormed through the restrictions. It also makes sense when you consider that if the Warrior Express becomes the new way to travel, it would put all those navigators out of work. Like a resentful if-I-can’t-have-it-neither-can-you taunt.

  Q lists the navigators on Jarren’s ship. However what I need now will be harder to find. I’m guessing that Jarren connected with these disgruntled people while he was living on Suzhou. Did he meet someone on the planet? Or find them in the Q-net? I doubt there is a support group for failed navigators. What would they do instead of navigating? They would be very skilled with using the Q-net. Unfortunately, there are a ton of jobs in DES where having those qualifications is required.

  Do you know who is working with Jarren? I ask Q. Why not try it?

  NO.

  But they’re using you!

  THEY HIDE.

  Right. I forgot Q can only access what humans h
ave inputted even if the information is false. Which means, I’m gonna have to do math. Ugh. I’m also going to assume Jarren hooked up with his partners in crime during his time on Suzhou. So I pull up the messages Lan sent me while I was in the fifty E-year time jump between Planets Xinji and Yulin.

  Jarren contacted her in 2503 and learned the love of his life was married with children. From his comments during our interview, she might have shared her findings with him soon after. In 2520, she messaged me her exciting news about translating the eight rows of symbols on the alien octagon that my dad found on Xinji and I reconstructed. And a hundred and…uh…twenty-eight days later, Xinji went silent.

  Huh. That was quick. I’d bet Jarren was worried Lan would share her research with other scientists and they’d figure out the real reason for the Warriors. Which also explains why he stole all the data files from Xinji. He didn’t know she’d sent me a copy of her research. Or that I’d be able to get any useful information from the “recovered” files he sent us to keep us busy until he could silence us as well. I do more math and figure out that Jarren first attacked us fifty-one days after we landed on Yulin.

  In any case, he probably hooked up with his Q-net teachers after he was released from detention on Suzhou and during those next few years. I ask Q to search for names of people who had failed navigator school and were working on Suzhou at that same time as Jarren. And to please look for any interactions between them. It’s quite the task and will take Q time so I finally go to sleep.

  Mom wakes me at the crack of too-early-to-care-what-time-it-is. I shuffle to the washroom. My head weights a thousand kilograms and my brain is fast asleep. But I’m jerked to full awareness when the harsh white lights illuminate the bruises on my neck. Oh boy. The dragon will spot them in a heartbeat. Wishing to avoid the drama—at least through breakfast—I dig in my bureau and find an old turtleneck. Since Yulin is warmer than Xinji, I’ve forgotten about it. I put it on. It’s soft and chases away the early morning chill.

  The dragon notices the turtleneck when I sit down to eat, but only asks about the report. “It’s not here yet. When will Tace send it?”

  I shrug. “Don’t know.” Then focus on my reconstituted eggs and a white pasty goo that might be oatmeal or could be spackle. Without being told, I go to Mom’s office to pretend to do school work. I stare at Q solving calculus problems for me. Believe it or not, I can do algebra, calculus, and trigonometry, I just prefer not to. It occurs to me, that even if I’d planned to become a navigator, I’d never use the calculus I learned to do my job. No one is ever going to say, “Ara, quick, calculate the derivative, the fate of the Galaxy depends on it!” Q has that all figured out already. So why bother wasting time learning it?

  IT TEACHES YOU HOW TO SOLVE PROBLEMS.

  I grudgingly agree that’s a handy skill, one I’ve used many times. But it’s not enough to rouse me from my post-breakfast stupor. After an hour of staring, I check in with Beau.

  Hey, partner, he says, sounding way too chipper.

  Hi. What have you been doing?

  I’ve been working on finding the super wormers, but Radcliff told me Jarren may have used those names to cover his identity and the people don’t really exist.

  The names are fake, but he has help, I’m sure of it. I explain about my late-night epiphany of washed-out navigators. I’ve Q working on who might have been bitter enough to help Jarren. They might not be on Suzhou, though.

  There’s a long pause.

  What’s wrong? I ask Beau.

  I’ve also been working on identifying potential DES traitors. However, some of the names in our file are highlighted. And these names are not active DES employees, but ex-employees.

  That makes sense. Jarren hates DES so he would conspire with fellow disgruntled people who hate DES.

  I agree with that logic. A beat. Except that’s not what the suspected-looter-colluder program was supposed to do. Are you worming into the file and adding these names?

  I’m not going to lie to my partner. It’s not me, Beau. Q must be adding them.

  CORRECT.

  The silence extends so long that I begin to worry.

  I thought the Q-net won’t interfere. We didn’t ask it to assess ex-employees.

  Good point. Why did you add these names? I ask Q, letting Beau hear my question so he doesn’t think I’m ignoring him.

  TIME CRITICAL. NEED MORE HELP.

  Beau yelps. Stars! Did you hear that?

  Icy fear pumps through my body. Yes, that’s Q. Now be quiet. How critical? I ask Q. Are the looters coming? Do we need to prepare for an attack?

  UNKNOWN.

  I almost yell at Q in frustration—how can you not know! Instead, I take a few deep breaths and look on the bright side. At least Beau has to believe me now about Q.

  I thought the Q-net knew everything, Beau says to me.

  NO ONE KNOWS EVERYTHING.

  Beau curses. Stop doing that!

  Jarren confirmed my guess about the looters using the portals to communicate. What if their network of communications is not a part of the Q-net at all? But something completely separate?

  CORRECT.

  And that means, if the looters decide to attack us and don’t use the shuttles or anything connected to the Q-net, I won’t get a warning. They’ll be able to surprise us!

  CORRECT.

  Nine

  2522:264

  What’s going on? Beau asks. Why is the Q-net talking to me?

  It’s talking to us. Welcome to the insanity. If they don’t send you for a full mental health evaluation, I’m gonna be very upset.

  Ara, focus. What does it mean, time’s critical and it doesn’t know when we might be attacked?

  I explain to Beau about the looters communicating using a system that’s not connected to the Q-net. We can’t rely on Q to alert us to an attack. Radcliff needs to know right away.

  On it, Beau says. He disentangles.

  I’m once again staring at the screen in my mom’s office. My thoughts whirl around all the possibilities. The desert surrounding the base is vast. If the looters came on foot, we’d have a hard time spotting them until they were really close. Not a comforting thought.

  “Lunch time,” Mom says, interrupting my morose thoughts.

  I’m distracted at soch-time. One solution keeps popping up. We need to evacuate to another planet using the portals. Except, what’s to stop the looters from following us? Nothing. But at least we’d know which direction they were coming from. Or would we? How many Warrior planets have the looters taken control of? I’d assumed all the closed planets and the ones that have gone silent. But what about the forty-two that haven’t been discovered yet?

  And I thought I was scared before. Thinking that the looters might have already claimed all but four Warrior planets—Suzhou is an unknown at this point—I’m almost paralyzed with terror. At least there won’t be shadow-blobs on the majority of them. Or would there? If I were to set up a Warrior Express transportation network, I’d move the Warriors to prime locations in the Galaxy.

  It would be nice to know exactly how the portals work. And to know just how much damage Jarren has done. How many planets has he visited? Will I be able to talk to Jarren again? Would he even answer my questions? Maybe if I bring along some dessert.

  “What are you doing?” Mom demands.

  She’s standing right in front of me. I glance around the soch-area. Only the really young kids are still here. I missed the signal ending soch-time.

  I look up. The dragon stares back.

  “Thinking,” I say.

  The dragon gives me a you-can-do-better-than-that look. Did she think I was worming?

  “About what?” Another demand.

  Standing, I meet her gaze. “Fifty more days.” Then I head to the unit, letting her figure out what it means.

  This time it’s Elese in her uniform who is not visiting me.

  She gives me a high five. “Hey girl! You’re not getting soft on me,
are you?”

  “Soft can be a good thing, you know,” I say, thinking of Niall’s hair.

  “Yeah, for blankets and teddy bears. But you’re not a teddy bear.” Elese snags me in a hug.

  I’m stunned. Elese is not the hugging type.

  Then she whispers in my ear, “You’re a lion.” She releases me just as quick. “Later.” With a jaunty wave, she’s on her way.

  And I hurry inside my parents’ unit before the dragon notices that the pulse gun is no longer in Elese’s holster. It’s currently digging into the small of my back, half shoved into the waistband of my pants. The speed of her delivery was impressive. But that isn’t what has me distracted. It’s the fact that Radcliff believes I need to be armed. Believes it strongly enough to bypass my parents. Does he know something or is this just a precaution because Q can’t alert us to a looter attack? Either way, I keep the gun hidden behind my back. It won’t do anyone any good in the drawer of my room.

  During my afternoon homework session, I question Q on the nature of the portals. Jarren used the Q-net while he was learning about them, so technically the information is in the network and Q can share it with me.

  What I know is that there are sixty-four pits on each of the sixty-four Warrior planets. Each pit has a designation to another one of the other Warrior planets. The last pit is its own designation. So I assume that’s for incoming travelers.

  CORRECT.

  The space in the center of the Warriors is only about two meters wide. What if you want to send something big through the portal? I ask. Like a shuttle?

  WIDEN PORT.

  Port? Is that what you’re calling the open space in the middle?

  YES.

  You would need to move the Warriors to make it bigger.

  CORRECT.

  Hmmm. That would be hard to do. Those Warriors weight about three hundred kilos each. Jarren did say they destroyed Warriors to get to the center ones. So they’ve been setting them far enough apart to send their equipment through.