Metamorph: The Outbounder Chronicles

by Chris Reher

  “I didn’t either,” Laryn said. “But I’m on a Shelody jaunt now and its going outbound as soon as they get clearance. I need an update.”

  “What do you have in mind? Or I should say: what do you want to have in mind?”

  Without really thinking about it, Laryn obliged ANN-X by smiling in acknowledgement of the old joke. “I need whatever you have on the Harla loss. And the Kalons.”

  “Travel to that planet is prohibited.”

  “Yes, I know. We’re not going there. Two Kalon treasure hunters are hiring the Nefer for an outing. I thought I’d find out more about them. I don’t have much.”

  “You already have what we know of them. What are their names?”

  “Toji and Iko, they said.”

  “I’ll see what I can find. You can proceed.” The transmission ended without farewell and the pod began to move, barely jarring its passenger, along its magnetic track.

  Laryn leaned close to the transparent wall when the chute exited the station and curved toward the research segment. Out here, the pod allowed a spectacular view of a broad swath of stars, looking close enough to touch. As always, Laryn made a tent of her shawl to cut the glare as she peered out at two ships approaching the station. One was a hulking scandium ore transport, preparing to join the fleet heading back to Earth. It dwarfed a much smaller corvette, one of the nimble but heavily shielded outbounder ships. Like the Nefer’s, its main structure rode atop the circular gravity generator but the sleek peripheral assembly allowed it to land under diverse atmospheric conditions. She couldn’t wait to board her new assignment and head back out there.

  The bend brought her into sight of the landing platter of the photonic transport platform, no more than a pulsing blip of light in the inky distance today. The massive laser array would soon decelerate the arriving fleet from Earth. Constant monitoring ensured that the thruster remained in precisely timed alignment with its counterpart near Mars. A similar system allowed travel between Earth and Mars, like a railway moving at cosmic velocity, picking up and discharging supplies and passengers every time Earth’s orbit brought it close to the platform. Soon, another photonic conveyor would connect Bogen’s Hub with Terrica, increasing migration tenfold.

  Although the filament from the Hub to Earth’s solar system meant an almost instant way to cross the distance, fear of contamination subjected private vessels, like the prospectors’ corvettes, to expensive decontamination, irradiation, and inspection protocols before passing the armed sentinel guarding that filament to Earth. Most travelers chose the decidedly safer photonic transport system aboard a fleet of passenger ships. It meant a five month journey but also a far more affordable one for the migrants looking for a new home. Like Laryn, most of those who came to the Hub came to stay.

  Too soon, Laryn’s pod made that tight little turn that always felt like it had stumbled over something, announcing her arrival at the research segment. As a member of both the science division and, currently, the Office of the Intermediary, she had access to many doors here. Today, she stopped at a platform serving the small Cognitive Sciences Clinic. She left the car and once more presented credentials to a door panel to gain entry. Whatever Kalon-related information she didn’t already possess would have been sent down here for infusion.

  “Hello, Laryn!” Tom Calek, a slight, pale man and one of her favorite techs, peered around an open door when a mechanical sentinel announced her presence. No one else was in sight although she heard music from another of the labs along the hallway. “What brings you into our lair so late?”

  “Is it late? ‘What meaning has time when you drift among the stars’,” she quoted. “No one told you I was coming down?”

  “No. It’s been quiet.”

  They both walked to a wider section in the corridor where he accessed a com panel on the wall. He tapped around for a while and then shrugged his sloping shoulders. “We’re always the last to know. I was about to shut down. We have a few sleepers, but we’re not expecting anyone else.”

  “I sent the request to ANN-X just now on my way here. It’ll get here shortly, I suppose.”

  “Probably. Want something hot? I was thinking of some soup.”

  “I just ate. Can I still get hooked up? If they get around to authorizing?”

  “For you, anything.” He gestured to the open door of one of the labs. She walked ahead of him into the small space furnished with a broad recliner, the tech’s stool, some screens and, of course, the infuser. Years ago, the sleek, ultra-efficient Cog Sciences edifice on Earth where she had received her implant had both awed and intimidated her. These few rooms, an adjunct of the medical facility of the station, hardly compared to its grandeur. Still, despite the somewhat worn equipment, she knew Calek kept his infuser at peak performance.

  “What’s on the menu?” he said.

  “Kalons.” Laryn stepped behind a partition to trade her clothes for a thin but comfortable coverall while he called up her profile. Accelerated learning did not mean it was instant and she’d rest here awhile. “We’re seeing them more often around here now, so I thought I’d add to my inventory. We’ll have some of them aboard on the next outbound.”

  “That should be interesting,” he said when she emerged and sat on the edge of the marginally comfortable recliner, resigned to spend the next few hours on it. “You have everything on them, I think. You have no idea how much I’d love to get one of them into my lab to dig into their heads. But they can’t interface with our toys, so that won’t happen.”

  “Not at all?”

  “Nope. The scans don’t show any sort of brain structure our systems recognize. Their brain waves are as beyond our classifications as their language is. They’re like us more on the outside than the inside.”

  “You don’t have anything useful? That can’t be. I have some background on our contact with them here. A little about their technology, but that’s all. We don’t have more than that? What about their biology? Customs? History? The Kalon homeworld?”

  “Some historical stuff, nothing classified. At least not that I’m aware. Our treaties with Kalon include a provision for minimal interaction between our species. They’re a bit cagy about their planet. Trying to keep us away.” He flashed his shy smile. “I don’t blame them. We have a history of messing up places that belong to other folks.”

  “I guess that’s why we’re not allowed to travel to their homeworld. The Ministry is afraid we’ll cause problems there.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. From what I hear, their planet is fragile and we can’t breathe the air, anyway. I’m sure we’ll get to a point where a diplomatic mission is possible, if not a scientific one. Meanwhile, we study them here.”

  “I guess Pendra has the biggest interest in getting friendly with them,” she said, remembering Colsan’s bluster. “Is that why they let them stay here on the station?”

  He allowed himself another thin smile. “You are astute, Agent Ash. The Kalons are masters of microfluidics, and learning about their engineering is something that is a high priority for the Pendra research team. They’re not so forthcoming with the actual materials they use for their technologies. They’re using biochemical polymers we haven’t been able to reproduce. And so we’re being nice to them, hoping they’ll come to trust us enough to share their resources. Who knows what else they have to offer.”

  She nodded. Likely, she thought, Pendra was making sure that their monopoly of Kalon cooperation was absolute. The people on Earth who cared about such things were aware of the discoveries made at the Hub, including the alien species found so far. But none of the Kalons had been invited to travel there, nor was it likely they would be. She suspected the reason was not only the Ministry’s fear of contaminants reaching the Human population but also Pendra’s desire to keep the aliens from meeting the Consortium’s earthbound competitors. “I’d love to go to Kalon, even if we can’t land there,” she said. “Any planet that produces a sentient species is worth studying. They’re so m
uch like us.”

  “That they are, although some folks on the station don’t see that. Your outbound with them should help us add to what we know about them. We’ll create a new file for the other Cogs with whatever you bring back for us.”

  She pointed at the display wall. “Well, let me review what you’ve got. There’s got to be something I can use. Got anything on the Harla expedition?”

  “Harla? That old wreck?”

  “Apparently the source of much income for the crews hired to find it. It hasn’t been gone all that long.”

  He scrolled through his files. “Six years. I have the traffic records for that quarter. It includes the loss of that ship. Want it?”

  “Please. How about Captain Ryle Tanner?”

  “Tanner? You also have that.”

  “Apparently I don’t. He’s indentured?”

  “He is?”

  “So he said.”

  Calek dug deeper into his data. “Hmm, some restricted files there. Sorry, can’t give those to you.”

  She sighed. “Well, I’ll take the Harla file, then.”

  A chime somewhere out in the corridor drew his attention. “I’m very popular this evening. I wonder who that is now.” He walked to the door, and then looked back at Laryn, mystified by whoever had arrived there.

  “Who is it?” she said.

  “Your boss.”

  She stood up when, a few moments later, Joel Mitcher filled the doorway, mostly from side to side, looking just a bit out of breath. Had he jogged down here? His carefully cultivated cap of auburn hair floated around his head like down feathers, not at all matching the stiff little brush of gray sprouting on his chin.

  “Hello, Director,” she said to the leader of the mediaries, surprised to see him here. Other than an occasional meeting to discuss her assignments, she rarely had cause to speak with him. Her mission reports, largely uneventful, went to his assistants and there was no need for him to seek her out, especially so late in the station’s work shift. Why had ANN-X decided to alert him to her presence here this evening? She hoped he didn’t have a new assignment that would keep her from joining the Kalon expedition.

  “Evening,” he replied as if in a hurry to get the pleasantries done. He nodded to Calek in a way that made the doctor leave the room at once.

  Laryn watched him go. “I did not expect to see you here,” she said when they were alone. “Did I miss a message from you?”

  He closed the door to the hall. “No, I wanted to speak to you personally. I saw your request for an update on the Kalons. You are heading out again so soon? With Tanner’s crew?”

  She nodded. “Yes, two of the Kalons hired the Nefer for an expedition. I thought it might be useful to learn about them. Doctor Calek said there was little more on file for me. That’s disappointing. But this could be a good opportunity for me to add to our intelligence of them.”

  He nodded. “Keep in mind that they prefer to keep to themselves. Be sure to keep your research discreet and within our diplomatic policies.”

  “That is always my goal,” Laryn said, puzzled. Was this not the main function of the mediaries? Once recruited by the Office of the Intermediary, she had undergone months of training before she was sent on her first diplomatic mission. And now Mitcher was telling her to be careful? “They seem... approachable.”

  “Good. You’ve proven your abilities in the past. I’m sure you won’t disappoint us.”

  Laryn kept her expression neutral as she observed the director. His eyes were on the screen which had showed nothing new in these past few minutes. He had barely looked at her at all. His hands hid in the pockets of his long vest, balled into fists so tight that his knuckles pressed against the fabric. He seemed sweatier than usual.

  “I’ll do my best,” she said.

  “Of course you will, Agent,” he said, and it seemed he was forcing a lightness into his voice that didn’t belong there. “Where are these two taking the Nefer?”

  Laryn shrugged. “Looking for the Harla jaunt.”

  “The Harla? Why?”

  “Why does anyone look for it? There is still a bounty set by the relatives. The ship, if intact, is worth a fair bit as salvage. These Kalons seem to actually think there may be survivors.”

  “I had not taken them for treasure hunters. Why did they engage the Nefer, did they say?”

  “They heard about the crew’s record for making their target, I guess.”

  He gazed at the data wall for a moment longer and then leaned forward to enter a code. The display now showed that ANN-X no longer recorded sound or visual details in this room. “We have… concerns about that crew,” he said.

  “Concerns?” she said. “I thought you might. No one told me that Captain Tanner is a felon. Is that not something I should have been aware of before agreeing to join that crew?”

  Both of them knew that her agreement would have had little effect on his decision to place her aboard the Nefer. Pendra staff carried out their orders without question – the price of well-paid employment and a private suite aboard the station. How well they carried them out ensured that they kept them. Both of them also knew these things meant little to her.

  “He chose to reveal that to you?”

  “Not directly. What is his crime?”

  “Not your concern, Agent. It will only cloud your observations. I want you to focus as much on that crew as the Kalons. More, actually.”

  Laryn frowned. “Why? Our Outreach Division hasn’t concluded their studies of the Kalon people already, have they? Doctor Calek said—”

  He waved her objection aside. “You’re a mediary. You’re aboard the Nefer to ensure the crew sticks to protocol. That’s your job now.” He turned away as if the devices along the wall were of interest to him. “I need you to keep an eye on Tanner.”

  “Sir?”

  “He’s a felon, like you said. And still up to things we’d like to know about. I need more from you than his weapons inventory. It’s of no concern to us.”

  “No? The Rowan’s arsenal is considerable,” she said, referring to her previous assignment on another ship. “I thought you might want to know.” She was well aware that no one cared how the outbounders conducted themselves off-station, as long as it didn’t annoy the wrong people. But returning a squeaky-clean report to the Ministry would have shown a lack of commitment, and so she had included information about the Rowan’s excessive armament.

  “I want you to pay attention to his communications outside the station. Who’s he talking to, what they’re carrying, and where they’re going.”

  “Do you suspect the crew of the Nefer of engaging in something illegal? Smuggling? Piracy, even? Corlan Shelody’s reputation would make that unlikely, no?”

  “So it would seem,” Mitcher said. “And yet… We suspect goings-on outside our oversight. Down on the docks. Off-station. Maybe even on Terrica. Those outbounders are thick as fleas and more than smuggling is going on. Even right under the noses of the mediaries we send along with them.”

  She grinned. “I assure you, they are not thick as fleas. Their crude competition with each other is seeing to that.”

  Mitcher turned abruptly to startle her with his scowl. “Then perhaps you need to include that in your reports, Agent Ash. I expect you to listen and observe and make sure they don’t veer a degree off course without you knowing about it. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, too startled to say more than that.

  “Get into his JX, if you can. There should be something in the database we don’t know about. Talk to the crew. Not the black woman. We haven’t been able to get to her since they came aboard the station. Try the kid, their engineer.”

  “Nolan Jone.”

  “Yes, him. Tanner’s shorthanded. Report on any additional crew he takes on.”

  “Sir,” Laryn said, not sure how to handle this strange request. “I realize that the mediaries are in place to ensure policy is observed on outbound missions. We’re a necessa
ry evil the crews consider as only so much cargo. But you’re asking me to spy on them?”

  His scowl, already furrowing his waxen forehead, deepened even more. “Did I not make that clear?”

  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable—”

  “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable back home on Earth. Did you think your augmentation and fancy education were a gift that fell from the sky? With that come certain expectations, Agent Ash. And right now Pendra’s expectations are for you to fulfill the function of the Mediary. All functions.”

  “I was not aware those functions included snooping into the affairs of a private enterprise.”

  “You’re aware now. I saw your file. You think someone’s just going offer you a place aboard a deep space expedition. That’s quite a lofty ambition. One that isn’t going anywhere without our recommendation.”

  The eyes in the fleshy folds of his skin regarded her without emotion as he seemed to wait for some reaction from her. He was right: she owed Pendra her education, her neural enhancement, and her enviable status aboard the station. Indeed, she owed them her escape from a lawless, isolated existence in a part of the world only now recovering from disaster. How soon she could apply for one of the sought-after places on a science vessel depended on his willingness to release her from his division.

  Was this, then, what she had signed up for? Informing on bootleg shipments of dope? Dangerous jaunts aboard a cramped ship with a crew that didn’t want her and probably suspected her of spying already? Not exactly what her recruiter had promised, she reflected, almost hearing the sound of a door closing. Or perhaps a trap.

  She dropped her eyes. She would go where they sent her, for as long as they needed her. Not because of the prospect of returning to Earth, but because he was right to remind her that she owed Pendra her loyalty and her service.

  He released the lock codes on the data wall. Another tap on the screen summoned Doctor Calek. “Choose, Agent. Will it be the Nefer, or the next transport home?”