The Rylerran Gateway

by Mark Ian Kendrick

  “Fruck!” Tann said as he stamped his foot.

  Darreth placed a hand on Tann’s shoulder. “The recorder buoy will make its way back home. Once the vids and telemetry are downloaded, they’ll determine what happened. At the very least they’ll contact the authorities here and they’ll come looking for us.”

  “But it has to get back to Andakar. It’ll be nearly a week at best before Rylerra has any data,” Merek said.

  “Someone will be looking for us long before that.” He placed the comm channel device down, making sure its volume was all the way up and the display was facing everyone. “We’ll know immediately if any comm traffic is coming from a rescue vehicle.”

  Tann’s stomach rumbled loudly. “It’s been hours since I ate,” he said.

  “Me, too. Break out the rations,” Darreth replied.

  Chapter 14

  The maintenance database on the shuttle was far more detailed than Naylon realized at first. He spent over two hours that evening talking to the shuttle’s computer, trying to coax it to find anything which might be helpful in getting the shuttle operational again. He found nothing that helped. It wasn’t as if he even knew the first thing about shuttle maintenance. But he knew enough about diagnostic systems to know that he didn’t have to be an expert to get information from a computer.

  Several diagnostics showed some key systems were simply inoperable. Backup circuits might be active, but the circuit crystals used to bring up the subsystems had simply overloaded in the last blast. Two dozen of them were blackened, their internal circuitry fried beyond repair. He was sure Darreth had already done all he could, but he felt he needed to do something even if it meant following right behind him. Unknown to all but Darreth, the life support subsystem had also been affected. Naylon had discovered that during his maintenance sweep. It was a good thing they hadn’t been informed about that, he realized. It would have added unnecessary stress to an already seemingly impossible situation.

  Having exhausted the shuttle’s maintenance system and realizing that without a viable life support subsystem it was moot anyway, Naylon gave up, exited the craft, then pressed the button to close the back hatch. He zipped up his coat and looked up into the perfectly clear quiet sky. It was eerie and beautiful at the same time. Here they were over 1600 AU from home, thousands of kilometers from the nearest rescue team, and in the bottom of a huge river valley. Actually, he thought they were very, very lucky indeed. At least they hadn’t crashed. They would be very dead if they had.

  Something else was creeping up on Naylon’s thoughts. Why would a pirate crew, whose sole task so far had been to steal pharmas, suddenly change their tack and decide to try to shoot them from space? How could they have known when they would arrive in the Kaskalon system or where they were going to be exiting the FTL wedge? Had they known who was piloting their shuttle? Was there some sort of conspiracy going on?

  Now I’m thinking like Ecca, Naylon thought. But maybe thinking like that had merit right now. After all, he’d just come up with some very good unanswered questions. Someone appeared to be after Darreth and they didn’t seem to care that innocent lives might be part of the price just to get him.

  Naylon stuffed his hands into his coat pockets as his feet crunched on the cold dry pebbly riverbed. He came into the cavern briefly and motioned for Darreth to come outside. Tann was already asleep underneath two blankets. Merek was listening to something on the music crystal he had had packed in his bag. He was sitting up with his eyes closed.

  Darreth zipped up his coat and followed Naylon outside into the crisp evening air. They found a rock to sit on.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Naylon told him.

  “About us?” He reached over to kiss Naylon’s cheek. Naylon kissed back.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “I’m sorry,” Darreth told him.

  “About what?”

  “The mess we’re in.”

  “Excuse me. You got us down in one piece. But that’s not what’s bothering me. I think someone wants you dead. Very dead. And they don’t care who they take out along with you.”

  “So, you figured it out,” Darreth said casually.

  “You think so, too?” Naylon responded, quite surprised Darreth wasn’t more rattled at this conclusion.

  “It only makes sense. Someone had our flight plan. Otherwise, how would they know when or where we would exit the wedge?”

  Naylon was silent for a moment. Darreth had already come to that conclusion. It made him wonder what else Darreth knew that he wasn’t saying. “And?” he prompted.

  “And… it’s apparent there’s some sort of clandestine communication going on between Andakar and Rylerra. After all, flight plans aren’t just broadcast out into open space. We have to consider that someone, maybe even at the museum, leaked our flight plan data to the pirates, or to someone who then leaked it to the pirates. Pirates who are clearly and obviously stationed here on Rylerra.”

  “What? You think some of my co-workers would want to see you dead? How can you think that?” he said, startled.

  “Everyone’s suspect until we have more data. There were a limited number of people who knew I was piloting the shuttle. Their ship was small. It was only about four times the size of our shuttle. Still, Helios class ships aren’t designed for extended interstellar flight. It had to be based on a planet with a substantial atmosphere. Since there are no moons in the system with a substantial atmosphere, that points back to Andakar, which is out of the question, or right here on Rylerra, which is the only reasonable answer.”

  Naylon looked up to the treetops, trying to follow Darreth’s logic. He concluded it was impeccable.

  Darreth continued. “They haven’t returned either. Either I winged them good and they headed back to their base, wherever that is, or we’re so far from any inhabited area they simply took off. They probably intend to let us freeze or die of starvation. They know they took out a good number of our systems.”

  “Well, someone’s going to rescue us!”

  Let’s hope so. “Of course they are.”

  Naylon stuffed his hands further into his pockets purely out of habit. It was completely unnecessary. The jacket had dozens of sensors all throughout it. It was continuously monitoring his body and ambient temperature, adjusting various zones to keep him warm. “Or maybe we’ll die of thirst,” Naylon offered forlornly.

  “Not while I’m running this show. It’s only a matter of time before we’re traced down here. We’ll wait another full day, then activate the mayday beacon in the shuttle. At least it still functions. The rescue ships would have to be very nearly above us or they won’t detect it. Regardless, we’ll be rescued one way or another.” Darreth stuffed his hands into his pockets, too. “How’s Merek doing?” Darreth asked, changing the topic.

  “He seems to be getting better. No blurred vision and his dizziness is fading,” Naylon said. “I love you,” he added. It was the first time he’d said that directly to Darreth.

  Darreth smiled broadly. It felt good to hear that. “I love you,” he said in return. They stood and molded their bodies together as they embraced and kissed. Both sported isotitanium-hard swellas when they finally peeled themselves apart.

  Chapter 15

  Inandra knew local provincial issues were none of her business. Strict Consortium law regulated just how meddlesome a planetary director could be in local affairs. Inandra was finding that set of laws much to confining to suit her needs. After all, she was overseeing the second richest planet of all the Inhabs. Therefore, it followed that she was well within her rights to know everything going on below her position. At least, that was how she saw it, she thought with an amused smile, as she slowly paced her spacious office.

  Thus, little of the provincial manager discussions that Inandra hadn’t been directly involved in had escaped her attention. The program her communications computer used to sift through routine vidmails had picked out incredibly salient ones. Ones that at first
alarmed her, then made her very angry. Despite being so far from Earth and despite the autonomy granted by the largest businesses, grumbling was still to be found among those who thought their autonomy wasn’t enough. For quite some time the grumbling had extended to the provincial managers. It was perfectly within Citizens’ rights to discuss anything they thought important, which they did on a regular basis. But provincial managers were supposed to be immune to chatter such as what she was clandestinely listening to.

  At first, the vidmails sounded like nattering, but within two months talk of full autonomy was being opening discussed by the highest levels of the Council. Only two of the vidmails involved Siloy James-Po, she noticed. And they were completely dismissive of the idea. But she was sure he was discussing this issue with them in person. She was sure he was directly involved, despite what the vidmails seemed to indicate.

  She was absolutely going to put a stop to this. There was no way they would be able to gain independence, but it was important no one took this issue and ran with it. She had been in office long enough to know that this planet’s Space Navy might have a little too much power and control so far from Earth despite the safeguards to prevent such a thing from happening. Although she held the purse strings for their division, she didn’t have enough of a background in Space Navy operations to be fully cognizant of how much power they might exert when the time came. So, she knew she had to plan accordingly.

  It had been during one of their monthly meetings after having watched the most important of the vidmails that she made her first move.

  Gartenda province encompassed a large stretch of desert to the east of the mountains. Shifting sands was slowly encroaching upon two of the settlements. Kals Sanadan, the Gartenda Provincial Manager, and she were discussing upping an allotment of moneys to purchase materials for the erection of barriers, which would help stave off the sand. The existing ones weren’t high enough and hadn’t been placed in the right locations. They were over forty years old anyway. Inandra had carefully steered the discussion.

  “You know Kals, if it weren’t for the inept way the Development Division allocates funds, those barriers would have been built right in the first place.”

  “Say again, ma’am?”

  “I mean, don’t you think they should have paid a lot more attention to what was required at that time? They clearly didn’t have your interests in mind when they first funded that project.”

  Kals guffawed. “I’m not that old, Director. I wasn’t a Provincial Manager then. I’m hardly the one to complain about that.”

  “But if you had been manager at that time, wouldn’t you have said something about it?”

  “I’m sure I would,” Kals had replied.

  “Sometimes I wonder what they were thinking when they were projecting budgets back then.” Inandra had slowly but surely projected an aura of concern. And since they were one-on-one, she had the perfect opportunity to sound genuine.

  “I, too, have often wondered the same thing,” he told her.

  “I meant Earth.” She glanced up from the vidscreen they were both viewing, and looked directly at him. “The committee that appointed me to this wonderful planet sometimes makes the worst blunders when it comes to projections.” Inandra already knew exactly what Kals thought about Earth.

  “And you don’t have any say as to those figures?” he asked guardedly.

  “I have limited say. I rely on those I oversee to report to me with accurate information I can then relay back to my higher ups. In addition, I rely very heavily on provincial managers and them being as honest as they can with our offices to make sure they get full funding. In fact, the more honest the provincial managers are with me, the better I am at dealing with the red tape that inevitably comes from such distances.” She licked her lips after that statement.

  Kals was married, but was as red-blooded as any man. Inandra had been clearly prompting him for information. And she had been doing it in a way that suggested she was interested in him. He was vaguely aware of her being in a relationship, but didn’t know with whom. Nonetheless, although she could be as formal and businesslike as any person could be, right now her charm was clearly in the lead and her business manners non-existent. Another thing Kals was fully aware of was that all meetings were recorded. Holographic storage allowed any disputes to be put to rest once the record was pulled and reviewed. This one-on-one meeting was no different than a group meeting. Kals briefly looked around the room, trying to discern where the cameras might be located. They could be so tiny he had no idea where they might be.

  “If you’re looking for the recorders you can be assured I’ve had them shut off the entire time we’ve been together in here.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Director Alarr.” Something about her suggested a cleverness he had never suspected before, despite his libido being front and center now. He had always been attracted to her but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she would be attracted to him.

  “I didn’t want our meeting to be… how should I put it… on the official record.” She leaned back in her chair, crossed her long slender legs and looked him up and down. “Sometimes I just don’t have time to deal with the stuffiness that virtually all the Committee members seem to think is their birthright. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t from Earth.” She said that last line in her most pouty voice.

  “I’m sorry?” Was she actually telling him something so personal?

  “I mean it. I-I love Andakar. I wish Consortium law didn’t prevent me from becoming a Citizen.” She finished in a rush, as if holding on to an emotional dam that might burst at any moment.

  Kals didn’t know what to say to this intimate confession. Consortium law was very clear and had been so for a very long time. Planetary Directors simply couldn’t become Citizens of the worlds they ran. They already had enough control without being born on the planets they controlled. That’s simply the way it was.

  “I imagine a day in the future, the near future, mind you, where I can become a Citizen and cut my ties to Earth altogether.” She was trolling.

  “Cut your ties? To Earth? That-that would be unprecedented.” A perplexed frown appeared on Kals’ face as he tried to battle what he now suddenly so desperately wanted.

  “Perhaps so. But that’s my dream. To become a Citizen of Andakar.” With that, she sighed heavily. “But enough of that. Let’s continue with this budget request. I’m sure you’re already bored with my musings anyway.”

  “No… no, Director. In fact, I’m surprised you would be so bold as to even state such a thing.”

  Desperate hope was evident on his face. She knew she had won. “I did so because I like you, Kals. You’re the council member I feel the most comfortable speaking my real mind with. I don’t know what it is about you, but I guess it’s because you’re… so easy on the eyes.” She smiled coyly. With that, she lightly touched his hand with her index finger.

  Kals slowly pulled his hand away. It was impossible not to think about her naked now and it was beginning to make him feel a bit uncomfortable. After all, just outside the office were at least a dozen members of her staff.

  As if reading his mind her hand moved swiftly to the console on the table. She lightly touched an icon on its smooth surface. The door to her office locked. “I wasn’t kidding.” She stood with the languid movement of a cat rising from a nap. She looked at him expectantly. He stood as well. Kals instantly felt as if he were magnetically drawn to her. She perfectly molded to his embrace. He kissed her while she brought her hand slowly down the middle of his torso until she rested it at his crotch. As quickly as she had done that she drew her hand away. It was a tease. A taste only. Maybe a promise.

  She pulled herself away from him and turned around. “I’m… sorry Kals. I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have even considered such a thing. Please forgive me.” She turned back to face him, feigning embarrassment.

  Kals felt as if he were in a fog. He had some explaining to
do to himself about what just happened. It wasn’t like him to do such a thing, at least recently. His last such indiscretion had occurred almost eight years ago in Tokaias. The woman had meant nothing to him, but she had been equally seductive. It had led to all night lovemaking. Regardless, he never saw the woman again. What was confusing about this situation was Inandra’s confession that she no longer wanted to be a Citizen of Earth. Like that was even possible.

  “Director. I’m…”

  “Inandra. It’s Inandra.”

  “Inandra… I-I have to leave.”

  “Whatever I said is between you and me.”

  “We didn’t talk about anything… personal,” he told her, confused.

  She smiled secretly at his confusion. “Again… I’m sorry.”

  Kals took the vidPAD, collected the rest of his things and left the room.

  Two days later Kals had a vid conversation with Orl Ustiby, the Provincial Manager of West Litok province. He made sure he was on his personal vidmail channel and not on any provincial one.

  “Orl, you’re not going to believe this. I think we have an unexpected ally in our quest.”

  “To what are you referring?”

  “Independence.”

  Orl instantly looked at the icon flashing on his screen to make sure the encryption was in place. Satisfied it was on and working he answered. “Who?”

  “Director Alarr.”

  Orl laughed heartily. “That’s a good one, Kals. Tell me another.”

  Kals didn’t so much as emit a grin. “She practically insinuated that she’s on our side.”

  “How did such a conversation even come up?”

  “It wasn’t so much a conversation as it was an attempt to seduce me.”

  “Another good one, Kals. I know she’s a ‘gifted’ woman, but I hardly suspected her gifts extended to the seduction of a provincial manager.”