Snark's Quest

by Timothy Ellis

  He was surprised to see Anna, after visiting the restroom, had changed into a loose-fitting cover-all.

  Her yacht was already under repair, both from his own basic repair droids trying to fix life support and engines they didn’t really have parts for, and the local repair yard working on hull and internal walls the pirates had damaged. All at his expense. Snark wasn’t mean, but he’d been working on a lucrative trading voyage back to his homeworld, which seemed to have gone out of the window now.

  Snark took in the sights, smells and noise surrounding them. This was more like it! He liked the independence he had in being alone in his space travels, but company, action, and curious things were always stimulating. He tucked into his stew, using the third arm under his chin to wield a hefty spoon, which he alternatively chewed on and licked, and lapping up the remains in the empty bowl at the end of the meal.

  Anna had picked at hers, while snatching glimpses of the surrounds. A pair of Snake creature arms dealers were haggling quietly in the corner. Some traders, one a bat, was arguing a point with an angry-looking crocodile like creature. She was still having trouble with the sights and particularly smells of the natives of this galaxy, as un-human like as they were, with centaur like structures, and multiple arms. And the stench! At least Snark wasn’t too bad, with the cat like cleanliness of his hairless skin.

  She watched him finish his stew. He looked like someone had merged a furless house cat with a Meerkat, resulting in a centaur like puss, with striking feline features. A house cat she knew he wasn’t, but he did seem to be the only one so far to offer real help. Perched across from her on a stool, he was more in her line of sight than normal. A large cat size. A satisfied large wrinkled cat in a skin tight and somewhat loud coloured coverall. But was he an angry cat? Or a reasonable cat?

  She took a large gulp of what was some kind of flavoured water. She’d asked for non-alcoholic, and the bartender, a large surprised looking sort of antelope, had almost not understood, despite his translator unit.

  Snark finished licking the bowl, and cleaned his face by licking and using several of his paws at once. He sighed, and noticed she had barely made a dent on her stew.

  "So," he started. "The plan is this. I’ll take the ship as a down-payment on a …"

  "Snark," Anna started at the same time. "You’re obviously a fine pilot and trader, and I’m glad I met someone as knowledgeable about this part of the galaxy as you. I’m sure we can come to an amicable arrangement."

  She finished after him and looked up under her eyelashes at him, even though she was slightly taller sitting on the stools.

  Bloody female mop head! Snark thought to himself. She was trying to flatter him. And it was working.

  Anna was turning a silver ring on her finger, around and around. Odd. She spoke again.

  "I need a pilot. You want my ship. I have credits, but no gals, and you’re paying for the repairs. But I can pay you back as soon as we get somewhere I can convert credits into gals."

  Snark's tail started whipping back and forth. She went on.

  "I need a captain and pilot, and there is a task I need to complete. How about you be my captain pilot until the task is done and we return to human space, after which I'm prepared to give you the ship."

  Snark sipped thoughtfully at his bat brandy. Was it all an act? It had to be. Helpless? She was as helpless as his litter mates back on his homeland, and probably twice as deadly. Pirates, shmirates. Human vessels were stronger and faster than anything in this galaxy, let alone some pox-filled pirates. It still stank of fish. And the old line about 'I can pay you when you do whatever it is I want you to'? How could she think he would fall for it? It was more his line.

  She must have read his mood, and decided on another tack.

  "Snark, you're not the type to just take a person's ship and strand them somewhere. Especially since you know very well my ship was never derelict, and so salvage would never apply. So you won't leave me here to try and survive on my own."

  She indicated the bar’s clientele, and especially the group of traders, whose altercation had now disintegrated into an out and out fist fight, fascinatingly complex given the number of arms, feet, teeth, and wings involved.

  "Would you?"

  Guns were being pulled, when the bat bartender threw a weighted net over the lot of them, and went back to discussing the lucrativeness of pigeon rustling on Cauldron Prime. The previously fighting beings fell about in a tangled heap, trying to escape the net.

  Bloody female mop head, thought Snark, ignoring the rest of the bar. She was now shaking her long black silky locks back from her head and smiling seriously at him. He was a sucker for this sort of thing. Hair was a sign of disfavour, not favour, in his species, a sign of lack of civilisation. Yet what was it about Anna? She wasn’t a cat, so why was she affecting him?

  He sighed. He was prepared to accept her offer if it meant owning the ship for little effort. But there was still something smelling bad.

  In or out? Out or In?

  Five

  The Grand Mother looked out across the towers and turrets of the sprawling city, from her vantage point in her own luxury apartments in the citadel.

  How things had changed in her long life, and across her race memories. Where once they had lived in complex burrow runs deep underground, only coming up at twilight and the hours before dawn to feed, train young ones, and hunt; watched over by the aunts, mothers and female scouts never-endingly scanning for danger; now, now they were in the suns. Literally. The two suns of the Cat World shone in such a way there were still nights, dawns, twilights, but also plenty of bathing time during the days for the Cats of the Plains, as her kind were known.

  The rulers of the Cat World, they built as high as they could for vantage points, and bathed in all layers of shelves, nooks, windows, and terraces built specially for their sunning pleasure. They had special oils to ensure they never burned, as they were hairless, and needed to mind they didn’t overdo the luxury of the sun. And in the winters, they were warmed by powered pads, heated rooms, and brightly embroidered cloaks. While still enjoying closed in spaces for security, togetherness, and comfort in the burrow like surrounds of the city.

  The Grand Mother surveyed the city and wondered, what now? News had come quickly about the Owls demise, and although they'd had 'The Arrangement' in place with them, the news had been greeted with elation by most in the Plains. Most. Some were said to have had too lucrative an arrangement with the Owls, and they would lose power in the shifting politics of the ruling elite, and the Council. And what of these humans? They sounded powerful, even too powerful. The Gauntlet was now called Hunter's Run, and the humans had been granted colonisation rights to large tracks of unknown space, previously supposedly owl space.

  She welcomed the Gauntlet being tamed at long last. While the cats traded into every sector they could reach, the Gauntlet had been the most dangerous area to trade through, even though trade ships were not supposed to be fired on. Since beginning to trade with the Owls, and those on the other side of the Gauntlet, the cats had lost a lot of ships in that area. Anything which stabilized the area was good for business, but these humans being as powerful as they seemed to be, actually introduced a new level of worry.

  She sniffed and returned to her cat bed. For such a stubborn race, arbitrary and self-interested, the Cats of the Plains had done well. Very well indeed. She purred to herself and licked slowly along her arms. Her skin was a pale white, almost unknown amongst her kind, whose skin tended to be light brown, grey-blue, ginger, or pinkly mottled. Soft down was the only indication of their past fur times. Her skin wrinkled and dimpled, and she sighed as the sun’s rays from an overhead light-well, filled the cat bed with warmth. She sighed. She was old. Her bluest of blue eyes were clouding. It was near her time, and there needed to be a new Grand Mother to fill her place.

  She did not need the Sight to know things were going to be irrevocably changed. But which way? Good or ill? Lightness or da
rk? Hunting times or sleeping times?

  Things were not clear, and hadn’t been for some time. Her tail twitched. None of the seers could sense the nature of the change which was coming. But she knew there was some sort of cold evil coming. A new threat which was not just the change brought by the humans.

  Her great Pounce of cats was in power now, but would they fall? Her many offspring, and their offspring, and theirs, would they continue in the Prime? Too many questions. Her eyes closed, and purring, she slept.

  Six

  Anna arrived back at Seasprite, after shopping with the Chief Station Officer’s partner.

  In the meantime, Snark had been coordinating repairs. It was a fine ship, sleek but well set up to survive a fight with ships much bigger than it was, especially given the difference in human weapons. He was studying the weapon designs on the ships computer, with something like awe. If he could replicate these he would become very rich. He would be able to go home in style, or perhaps retire to one of those resort planets.

  Thoughts of Jane intruded. She wasn’t ready to release this technology to this galaxy, and perhaps it wasn’t ready for it yet. Which brought up how had this ship sustained the damage it had with weapons like this? It was no longer a curiosity, but a real worry.

  He’d had to set the controls to manual, as for some reason they responded to non-manual controls of some sort, and he couldn’t work out the interconnections. There wasn’t an auto-pilot he could find, which was also strange given he'd seen Jane rarely touch any actual control, but still been able to run the ship.

  Belatedly he remembered Jane had told him humans had computers in their heads. He'd wanted one immediately, but the medical diagnostics hadn’t predicted a high enough chance of compatibility with his cat brain, for the implantation to be acceptable. Down the track he'd have to arrange for Jane's medical people to gain enough information about cat physiology to make this possible for him. He put such thoughts aside.

  The other thing was the spaciousness and size of the accommodations. Large cargo space, high ceilings in the quarters, and enough space for one hundred humans? Hmmm. A state of the art bridge. He’d moved up in the world. It definitely needed some adjustments for his physique, and was also a bit too big for his liking, and the heating needed turning up. But he sighed with pleasure. His little ship would fit neatly in the hanger for now, until he worked out what was next.

  He’d also taken the opportunity to sneak a peek at the logs. They were factual, tracing a course through a lot of the unknown space beyond the jump point into the system Jane now called HR14, and so into the known galaxy; through previously owl conquered space, into the Gauntlet and out through Mushroom space, ending up out here in sector nine. They had managed to mostly avoid the Owls curiously, but had lately run into the Nesturn, cousins of the Owls, and another species reliant on trade of the purple plant, being drug runners of a particularly noxious reputation. It had gone from bad to worse. Outrunning the Nesturn, they hadn’t escaped contamination, addiction and death. But what were they doing here in the first place? Such a small group? The logs didn’t have the answer.

  Anna had not bought much, just a few necessities. Nothing was really suitable for her. However she had realised humans had considerable celebrity status, and Reeick, the Station Chief Officer’s partner, had filled her in on the full history of the events in the last few months. She knew a little, but it seemed her fellow humans had taken on the local bad guys, those horrible Owls, and come out on top. She understood how that may have happened, as the general level of technology in this part of the Galaxy was centuries behind their own. She was using her embedded PC technology but had nothing to connect to. Or at least, she hadn’t discovered how to yet. Everyone was using tablets, except Snark who had a human pad, so she'd purchased one of these with her few gals so she could at least blend in. She hadn’t needed one so far, because someone else had always done the liaison with the outside world. Now she had to stand on her own.

  She just didn’t know how to keep going, now she'd lost everyone, and almost everything. Eddie and Rema in particular. She’d grown up with them. When they’d all started out, they hadn’t reckoned on such a virulent and addictive plague being present in the galaxy, and had been too trusting where they should have had a better approach, and plan in how to travel safely. She just had to keep going. She couldn’t stop now.

  And Snark, grumpy feline that he was, was her passport to gaining a way to keep on mission. Somehow the universe, or Snark, would provide.

  She hadn’t wanted to give him the ship. The ship was hers. It would always be hers. Somehow, she would contrive a way to keep it.

  Snark was in the command centre. She'd taken the time to freshen up, and tie up her hair. She twisted her ring and considered her approach.

  "So are we up and running yet?"

  Snark pricked his ears, and they swivelled in her direction, but he kept his eyes on the console.

  "Shouldn’t be long now. I’ve gained some familiarity with these controls, and done some system modifications to suit me. The hull repairs are complete, the engines are functioning better, and life support is back to full functionality. A final check and we’ll be good to go."

  But where, was his unsaid thought.

  Snark jumped from his perch on the console, onto the helmsman's chair. A human couldn’t sit in it anymore, as he'd adjusted the positioning of the controls so he could operate them. It left enough room for him to stand, and the seat was high enough he could see the HUD properly. Something he didn’t understand was why the captain's chair had no controls. Jane had done everything from the captain's chair of her ship. But here, the setup was completely different.

  Anna looked better, freshly showered, and with some kind of scent. Snark mumbled under his breath. He wasn’t going to get all gooey over a mop head.

  "So, would you like to tell me more about what you’re doing here?"

  "So, let’s talk about where we’ll be headed."

  They'd both started talking at the same time. Anna laughed, while Snark snorted.

  Anna slid into the captain's seat, and swung to and fro. Snark swivelled the helm chair to face her, and curled up in it, waiting for her to continue.

  "I’d like to explain, and I have to trust you anyway," Anna began. "My name is Anastasia Katerina Alexandra Elisabetta Rosalinda Romanova." She paused for effect. "And I'm the last of my line."

  Snark saw he was supposed to be impressed. He harrumphed, and licked in between the fingers of one paw delicately. Anna saw he was unimpressed.

  "I’m the last of the Romanovs. Many centuries ago they were the rulers of what was Greater Russia. They were overthrown, but some members of the family escaped. Over the centuries they've persisted and continued the line, whether in poverty or in greatness. We've overcome adversity to keep the faith. Very few of the many peoples of Greater Russia now remain. They were lost in the recent human disaster, which none of us now actually remember. But some of my people and I survived. And we came here."

  Anna finished her speech rather lamely with a sweep of one arm. Snark looked up.

  "Are you a queen like Queen Jane?"

  "Nothing like her. From all accounts the Hunters are made up royalty. I am, well, you could say, the real deal."

  She smiled.

  "And you all came here, because?"

  Anna hesitated.

  "We decided the best course for us, was to leave immediately to find a safe planet to settle." She grimaced. "Humans may seem to be cooperative and as one, but there are many factions. We wanted to avoid the civil wars which were bound to come with so many people all ending up in the same place, and to find our own path. In fact we left before the great memory wipe, but unlike most people, our records were printed on hard, so relearning after the memory loss was just a matter of reading. Our reason for being here didn’t change just because we suddenly forgot about it."

  "You took a great risk."

  Snark didn’t need to add it had tu
rned out badly. Anna swivelled to face out of the window, and didn’t speak for a few moments.

  "It had to be done."

  Snark stopped grooming, and sat up.

  "I find all of this hard to believe. And it’s meaningless now. Stupid mop head, you’re alone out here now, and I should drop you off to Queen Jane as soon as possible."

  Anna swung around to face him.

  "No! There’s something I have to do!"

  Snark smiled, and yawned, showing his teeth. It was too easy really, perhaps she was very young for her kind? Anna hesitated again for a long moment. She had to trust him. She had no choice.

  "One of the little known qualities I’ve inherited is a sense most other humans don’t have. It’s like a way of seeing things out of time. I can’t, can’t really describe it. But there is a Seeking, like an inherited task for my people." Her voice lowered and was hushed. "We’ve been seeking it for some time. The Destiny Stone."

  Snark was still unimpressed.

  "Some Stone? You mop heads are crazy." His tail twitched. "And I suppose you want me to help you look for it?"

  Anna smiled again.

  "Yes actually, that’s exactly what I’d like you to help me do."

  Snark’s belly jiggled with laughter. He purred loudly with the pleasure of the joke.

  Anna waited.

  Snark’s chuckles abated. He looked at directly at her.

  "You’re serious?"

  "It's very, very valuable."

  Snark’s tail stood straight up.

  "Well why didn’t you say so?"

  Seven

  The old woman hung the black kettle back on the hearth hook and stirred the fire again. She pinned back her white hair and returned to the simple table which dominated the tiny hut, and the large platter of shallow water which stood there. The ripples were abating and soon it was still and clear. She closed her eyes, took some long slow even breaths, before opening her eyes, and stared into the water. A well of deep cold evil opened up before her, and she drank in the images which swirled in the now turbulent depths. If only she could make sense of, there, now, no! She'd lost it. The water became a shallow platter of ordinary reflection. Her piercing blue eyes stared back at her.