Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  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.

  She whispered leaning close, “So you noticed famous Togar workmanship. It gets worse the farther away you get from the Queen’s Palace.”

  “I really don’t want to see a Togar engine room then.”

  There weren’t any controls to speak of; every Togar around us was armed. I wasn’t the only female Togar with a red sash, and it was no problem moving through a checkpoint, as the controlling Togar did not really want to ask me for credentials and let us pass.

  We took a flyer to the other side, where Oghar guards performed all the security-related tasks for the Kartanian, who as I learned, did not like to handle weapons and such matters where you needed weapons on their own and rather hired others to do it for them.

  Unchallenged, we reached the Kartanian side of the spaceport and boarded, much to my dismay, a Velorian freighter, brownish red and black ceramics and pretty much the same organic sea snail-looking hull as the slave ship, that most likely was still sitting on the landing field of Alvor’s Cove. This one had been maintained much better and didn’t stink as much.

  This time, we had a tiny passenger cabin for ourselves, barely enough room to stretch out, but we could close the door and have some privacy.

  I looked out the small viewport and saw Oghar and other aliens service the ships, disconnect service, and fuel transfer hoses and said more to myself than to her, “I wonder why there are so many Oghar here in Free Space. I thought they were a Union species?” I remembered Az-Az.

  She answered, nevertheless, “The Union Oghar are called Oromals and they are as loyal and dependable as any other member. The Oromals once belonged to the Oghar Empire before it fell apart into a dozen smaller kingdoms almost 8,000 years ago. The largest of these kingdoms, Oromals, joined the Union, I think about twelve-hundred years ago, but there are nine such kingdoms left in Free Space. Most OgHar-Hire out as mercenaries and laborers to other civilizations.”

  “You are much like Narth or Wetty. Narth, I think, tries to memorize the entire Encyclopedia Galactica and Wetty can remember the slightest details of anything she ever came across.”

  “I am glad Wetmouth found her place and friendship. She would never be happy as a Sojonit.”

  Shortly after she said that the Velorian lifted into space.

  Chapter 7: Netlor

  We managed to reach Netlor without incident or pirate attack, which would not have been unlikely in this region of space.

  As we debarked the Velorian ship seven days later, we were greeted by a warm yellow sun and the surrounding area beyond the landing field was green. Netlor had its own life and had oceans. The temperatures hovered around twenty-eight degrees, and that felt nice compared to the baking oven conditions of Alvor’s Cove or the freezing winds of Kaliment.

  Netlor was, just like Alvor’s Cove, in Free Space, but it was, so Mother Superior told me, well organized. While there was no real government, it was run by a consortium of several syndicates and a council of temple and faith leaders.

  Here on Netlor was the headquarter of a religious sect called the Church of the Golden Whispering Spirit of the universe. It had, according to the Mother Superior, several million members, not only on Union Side but also among several Kermac Thrall species and Free Space Civilizations

  The members of that church had to travel at least once in their life to this place and bathe in the light of the Whispering Statue.

  On special dates chosen by that church, the light of the statue was in alignment with the Heart of the Galaxy and a hundred thousand believers would arrive on Netlor and participate in these religious events.

 
; Of course, these pilgrimages were big business, and the syndicates that ran the hotels, shops, and restaurants in the planet’s only town, made sure pilgrims could travel safely to and from Netlor.

  All this I had learned from the Mother Superior while traveling here.

  The landing field belonged to a small spaceport; the field was clean Duro-Crete, and there was a fleet of open-top flyer taxis waiting for passengers.

  We took such a taxi right away and flew a short distance into town. Only a few buildings looked permanent; most of the town consisted of stacked pre-fab containers and tents.

  Mother Superior, in her Oghar disguise, acted a little like a tour guide and explained, “The actual light bathing ceremony only occurs once a planetary year, when the sun is perfectly aligned with a hole in this world’s tallest mountain and the sun itself is aligned with the center of the galaxy.

  “The light then hits the head of a gigantic statue, and the color prism installed in its head takes on different shades. The believers of this fate then stand in that light and believe to be blessed by the Spirit of the universe; they believe the light has curative effects and they can hear the universe whisper to them.”

  I shrugged. “To each its own, I guess.”

  The taxi dropped us off before one of the permanent buildings. I estimated it to be about seventy meters high, made of glass and Duro-Crete. It had a small version of the statue in its front yard, neatly groomed grass and a water fountain. A multi-language sign identified it as a hotel and welcomed guests and pilgrims.

  Check in was simple and we received a clean double bedroom with a view over the makeshift-looking town.

  She put the one bag of luggage down she was carrying and said, “Go ahead, enjoy the bath, and order room service.” She produced a black Credit Strip Box. “I think that belongs to you, and they do take Union Credits here.”

  It was the same credit box I had found in the damaged flyer on Sin 4, and I thanked her for keeping it for me. She touched her tusks in a typical Oghar habitual gesture and said, “I am going to do the same and then we are going to visit the local Sojonit temple to make a few calls and change our identities one more time. We should be on our way to Checkpoint 96 and Union Space in about two days.”