Best of Beyond the Stars

by Patrice Fitzgerald

  “Alex, doll, you need something stronger than...what are you drinking?”

  She leveled an unimpressed scowl in Bob Patera’s direction as he leaned on the bar beside her. “A Carina Nova. They make it in civilized places like Earth. Luckily, the bartender’s visited civilized places.”

  He nodded with as much vigor as his inebriated state allowed. “Still need to get you something stronger.”

  “Can’t. I’m working.”

  He stared at her skeptically but couldn’t seem to think of a suitable response. Finally he took a long, fulsome sip of his drink, a dark and frothy concoction. “Go on a date with me.”

  It had to be at least the seventy-fourth time he’d asked in the two and a half years since she’d met him. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you think you’re a space pirate, Bob.”

  “But I am a space pirate.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “My point exactly.”

  “You dated that Ethan Tollis guy, and he thinks he’s a synth star.”

  “He is a synth star.” And the dating happened years ago, before Ethan found well-deserved fame, but she wasn’t inclined to correct him.

  He looked genuinely offended. “I am a space pirate.”

  Patera was a good guy; a functioning drunk and a righteous lech, but a good guy nonetheless. He took the odd scouting job mostly to entertain himself and to have tales to brag about at any of a staggering variety of bars, of which this was only one.

  “Oh, clearly. But‌—‌”

  She recognized the man the instant he stepped in the bar and made sure she was the first person he made eye contact with. “Sorry, Bob, got to go. Working.”

  The man sat down at a table in the corner near the door. She stood up and headed for it with an air of deliberate casualness. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to notice him and beat her there, but she also didn’t want anyone else to notice her running for him.

  She made it to the table scot-free and slid in opposite him. “You have a job?” Perhaps not the smoothest greeting, but she rarely had the patience for pleasantries.

  He didn’t appear to mind. As a respected and experienced broker for numerous Alliance corps, he presumably knew interstellar scouts weren’t always the most socially well-adjusted people.

  “Astral Materials is getting ready to post an open contract for rare, high value elements at a newly discovered pulsar in Messier 71.”

  Messier 71 lay a considerable distance from Shi Shen, out in the void beyond settled space. She was okay with that.

  “What’s special about it?”

  “It’s a millisecond pulsar with three suspected planets identified. The scientific data is so promising they already gave it a name: Shanshuo. It’s the Chinese word for‌—‌”

  “Scintillation. I know. And it’s an open contract?”

  “Should hit the boards in the next hour or so. You did a great job on the contract for Palaimo last month, so I thought you’d be interested in a little forewarning.”

  Pulsar planets were rare, and rare was interesting. Better yet, millisecond pulsars were very, very old, which meant lots of opportunities for elements to bake, mature and transform. The odds leaned toward something lucrative waiting at Shanshuo.

  She harbored no doubts she would find that something if it was there to find, but she also had to find it first. “What’s the payout?”

  “Depends on what you find.”

  Her gaze bore into him until he made a prevaricating motion. “200K to 1.2 million.”

  She managed to stand up without sending the chair skittering across the floor. “Appreciate the tip.”

  Then she slinked out the door, hoping no one noticed her exit, and hurried down the curving walkway of the station’s outer torus as she messaged Kennedy.

  Ken, where are you? It’s time to quit partying and start working.

  The response took several seconds to come in.

  Are you sure? I literally just met a delicious merchant from Arcadia. He sells custom wide-band decrypters fabbed onsite.

  And he needs you to come to his hotel room so he can show them to you?

  Actually I suggested the hotel room.

  Alex reached the transfer lift and hopped aboard as it departed.

  Hey, it’s your vacation, but you said you wanted to come on a job with me so you could, and I quote, ‘See what I did with all my free time.’ Here’s your chance. You can stay and bed Don Juan if you want, but I’m clamps off in twenty.

  Oh, fine. I’ll meet you at the ship. I’ve got to disentangle myself here.

  Twenty, Ken.

  * * *

  The hangar deck did not look to be in compliance with any safety regs from this century, and certainly not Earth Alliance regs, which Shi Shen claimed to be subject to. Maybe the jurisdiction got fuzzy once one breached space? Alex knew better, though. Her mother‌—‌Queen Admiral of the Universe, Earth Alliance Strategic Command Division‌—‌would have an apoplectic fit if she saw the wreck this place was. But her mother did not deign to frequent places such as this.

  A third of the bays were filled with half-broken ships while their owners, bots and assorted mechanics tried to put them back together. Two men were busy installing a new impulse engine in the ship next to hers, right there on the deck. She shook her head and strode past them.

  The Siyane sat at the end of the left row. Sleek, aerodynamic lines gleamed panther black, giving it a predatory appearance. It wasn’t the largest ship in the bay, but by God it was the most beautiful. As well it should be, since she’d designed it herself. Built to spec by the company Kennedy worked for, it represented nothing short of perfection.

  ...Except for all the upgrades and customizations she desperately wanted to make but could not yet afford. Step by step, day by day.

  Kennedy came rushing up behind her, a mess of golden curls bouncing around a flushed face as she repositioned the straps of her jade slip dress on her shoulders. She skidded to a stop in a huff. “You’re not on board yet? I could’ve gotten‌—‌”

  “You can tell me on the way, Ken. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “On an adventure. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

  * * *

  SIYANE

  Messier 71

  PSR J1952+1846

  4,220 Parsecs from Earth

  Many people believed humanity’s mere presence in the stars beyond its home planet had rendered space civilized.

  Superluminal travel allowed them to hopscotch over the void on their way from one colony to the next. Half the time they didn’t even bother to glance out a ship’s viewport and note it was the stars they journeyed through.

  But out here, twelve hundred parsecs from the nearest settled world‌—‌which happened to be the most uncivilized world of them all, run by gangsters, murderers and thieves‌—‌space revealed its true nature. Vast. Untamed. Dangerous.

  In other words, her playground.

  Alex noted all this with a brief smile of anticipation as she increased the thrust of the impulse engine and accelerated into the stellar system hiding in a far corner of Messier 71. Not the venue for idle musing.

  The race was already on. Word of the contract had spread across the width and breadth of the freelance scout network by now, and she’d be deluding herself if she thought she’d be able to close this deal without competition.

  The rules for claiming ‘property’ in unexplored, unowned space were straightforward: plant a beacon at the location detailing the extent of the claim and the name of the claimant. Once the broadcast reached the relevant authorities‌—‌a matter of seconds‌—‌the claim was certified. Period, full stop. It was the only practical way to handle development of the forty billion star systems still unexplored in their little corner of the galaxy.

  The various governments generated much to-do about their new discoveries. Corporations, however, simply took what they wanted.

  Well, it wo
uld be more accurate to say corporations paid people to find and claim what they wanted for them. People like her....

  “Oh, chyertu.” Alex groaned as the long-range scanner picked up the telltale signs of another vessel in the system. A database check identified the owner of the ship bearing that particular emission signature.

  “Problem?” Kennedy muttered as she ascended the spiral staircase from the personal quarters below wearing far more appropriate sweats and a tee.

  “Joaquin Kyril’s here.”

  Her friend leaned against the cockpit half-wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who?”

  “Asshole extraordinaire. Not a scintilla of hunter skills to his name. He wouldn’t recognize a neutron star glitch if it sauntered up and slapped him across his peevish face.”

  Kennedy’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Wait, is he that guy we bumped into on Demeter last year? He was cute.”

  “Really, Ken? I offer a string of insults by way of introduction, and you go straight to ‘cute’?”

  “I didn’t say he was nice or upstanding. Just said he was cute. I can’t believe you haven’t put a second chair in the cockpit yet. Where am I supposed to sit?”

  Alex shrugged. “The floor? The couch back in the main cabin? You’re the only person who ever comes out with me.”

  “What about Malcolm?”

  She snorted. “We’re nowhere near the stage where he goes with me...anywhere that isn’t on Earth. Seriously, he hasn’t even seen my bedroom.”

  “Here on the ship or at your apartment in San Francisco?”

  “Either.” She’d been on two dates with Lt. Col. Malcolm Jenner in the past month; the third might have happened this week, were she not out here in the void. Perhaps it would happen next week, if she didn’t die out here in the void.

  He wasn’t her type. For one, he was military‌—‌a Marine of all things‌—‌which she’d been swearing off since...since a long time. He was upstanding and proper and gentlemanly to a cringe-inducing fault.

  But he was also smart, considerate and funny in a self-effacing way. And handsome, even if he did have to keep his hair shorn in an annoying military close-crop. For reasons she hadn’t yet found the words to articulate, she liked him. Maybe. She’d worry about it later. Right now she had to work.

  Kyril wandered around five AU out from the pulsar...searching for the outermost planetary body? If so, he was searching in the wrong place.

  Shanshuo hadn’t been receiving scientific attention long enough for the eccentricity to be accurately measured, but the orbit appeared wildly erratic. Kyril was guessing.

  Alex studied what data existed on the sequential orbits of the third body.

  ORBIT 1: Inclination: 12.3°; Ω: 147°; Period: 3.8 years

  ORBIT 2: Inclination: 17.6°; Ω: 132°; Period: 4.1 years

  ORBIT 3: Inclination: 9.5°; Ω: 153°; Period: Incomplete (859 days as of yesterday)

  She ran through some calculations then killed all the screens to stand and stare out the viewport.

  They weren’t able to see the pulsar, of course, as it emitted primarily X-rays. A spectrum filter engaged over the viewport to rectify the deficiency in their eyesight.

  “Ooh, that’s pretty.”

  “In a manner of speaking.” Like a lighthouse on an ampaKhat high, the X-ray beam spun madly, strobing across the viewport faster than she could blink. It was hypnotizing, and she let it cast its spell. She watched without seeing as her vision blurred under the mesmerizing rhythm.

  There.

  She dropped back into the cockpit chair, strapped in and set a course for there.

  * * *

  Cold gas giant, 0.8 the size of Jupiter, sporting a standard hydrogen and helium composition. Likely a captured planet, although with an orbit this close it must have been falling into Shanshuo for billions of years. Still, gas giants, whether cold, room temperature or hot, ranked among the most common non-stellar bodies in the galaxy.

  “Ugh. Boring.”

  Kennedy now sat on the floor, propped up against the wall eating roasted almonds. “Are you kidding? Look at those colors, at the way the clouds swirl together. This planet is spiffing art.”

  She didn’t disagree, but.... “I know, but we’re not here for art. We’re here to find elements worth money to Astral Materials, and as lovely as this planet may be, it’s not lucrative. One day I’ll have earned sufficient credits to be able to spend days gaping in wonder at such sights, but that day isn’t today.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean....”

  She spared Kennedy a quick, closed-mouth smile. “And I didn’t either.” Kennedy, or more specifically her family, was wealthy beyond the numbers to count it, but it hadn’t mattered since seven minutes after they’d met as freshmen at university.

  With a sigh she started to pull away and shift her focus to the inner bodies when the scanner beeped to inform her of another vessel in proximity.

  She glared at the screen incredulously. Kyril was ghosting her?

  Shit. His ship was faster than hers, one reason she desperately needed the proceeds from this contract. If he could track her, he’d be able to leapfrog her the instant she struck figurative‌—‌or possibly literal‌—‌gold and sling a beacon. He could steal the discovery out from under her while she watched in impotent fury. And he would do precisely that without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Dammit, I should have spent last month’s money on a real dampener field instead of a new ionized gas analyzer.” The dampener field was on the list, but the list was a busy place. And now she floated out here with no way to mask her engine’s emission signature and no way to shake Kyril’s tail.

  “You know, IS Design recently introduced a new prototype dampener field which is nineteen percent more effective at eighty-one percent the power requirements of the previous gen model.”

  “Did you design it?”

  “I helped. A lot, in truth, but I’m still too low on the corporate ladder to get the credit for it.” In response to Alex’s questioning gaze, Kennedy grinned smugly. “Soon.”

  “I’ve no doubt.”

  Alex pretended to be scanning the planet below, like there might legitimately be something worthy of finding, while she racked her brain for a solution to the problem that was Joaquin Kyril.

  It seemed she was not going to be allowed to explore the system, investigating every object for possible valuable elements. She’d only have one real shot at finding and claiming the mother lode.

  So where could the mother lode be hiding?

  She leaned down and grabbed a handful of Kennedy’s almonds. The second suspected planet had, by the timing measurements, a notably strange orbit. She considered it a minute...and palmed her forehead with her free hand.

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Not usually.”

  “The second object the researchers detected isn’t orbiting Shanshuo. It’s orbiting this planet. It probably got brought along for the ride when the gas giant was captured.”

  “So?”

  “So regardless of whether it’s a moon, planetoid or true planet, it’ll be small and rocky. Small and rocky is‌—‌”

  “Boring?”

  Alex chuckled. “Well, yes. Okay, this leaves the innermost body. It’s zipping around at an orbital period of 3.2 hours, which means it’s close to the pulsar. Damn close.” Dangerously close, at least for a puny little personal scout ship.

  She imagined the Siyane protesting the insult with an aura of miffed indignation, and apologized silently. It certainly was not puny to her; it was, in point of fact, everything she had ever wanted.

  “The type of relationship exhibited here‌—‌a tight, rapid orbit in the shadow of the pulsar‌—‌pegs it as a companion star rather than a planet. A white dwarf having its matter leeched away by the primary star?”

  “Were you directing the question at me? ‘Cause I’m an engineer, not a space junkie.”

  Alex mumbled a distracted reply. White dw
arfs were a dime a dozen and as boring as the gas giant. But if it was a true white dwarf, the researchers should’ve been able to identify it as such relatively easily.

  She swung toward Shanshuo in feigned casualness so as not to pique Kyril’s interest, tuning out the voom-voom-voom strobe of the pulsar in favor of trying to catch sight of the orbiting companion.

  She blinked.

  There.

  Blinked again. Gone.

  But it had been there, a tiny dot of absence racing across the X-ray light. She readied the spectrum analyzer to take a broad spectrum reading. She’d filter out the pulsar’s spectrum signature afterward to reveal the companion’s data.

  The scanner panned until she relocated it. Fantastic. Effective surface temperature estimated at....

  She frowned. “That can’t be correct.” Either the white dwarf was older than the universe‌—‌a dubious supposition‌—‌or the pulsar had siphoned off the outer layers completely, evaporating the star and leaving behind naught but its core.

  Possibly its exotic carbon diamond-like core? What were the odds?

  Vanishingly low, but higher than they had been a few minutes ago and doubtless higher than the first option.

  Kennedy stood and peered out the viewport. “What’ve you got?”

  “Maybe, just maybe, something wonderful.”

  She didn’t elaborate for now; she’d been dallying for too long, and Kyril would be getting suspicious. And now she really needed a plan.

  The small, rocky planet orbiting the gas giant had a thin atmosphere and varied terrain. Terrain she’d be able to lose Kyril in for several seconds at a minimum. Since her in-atmo pulse detonation engine didn’t emit an identifiable signature, it might be enough.

  “I need help. I need someone else. Who else is here?”

  “I’m here.”

  Alex laughed. “I mean another ship.”