“No. But granddad said that stories don’t die as long as we remember them.”
“Like the never-ending story which oddly enough fit in one book. Tell me this story of your granddad, and I will share one with you.”
“I barely remember it,” Mike admitted, yet his brain dug up old mental images that his childhood brain had conjured up to fit the story. “But I’ll try.”
“A deal, you and me. You promise to write down as much of your granddad’s story as you can remember before you leave our ship. And I will tell you of... the Techno Raider’s treasure.”
Mike nodded, trying not to seem too eager about it.
“Hey, those fifteen minutes!” Keelan bellowed.
“Check the main blast-off system, too!” Mike shouted and looked at Aclimes again.
“Curiosity. Another of human kind’s specialties. Very well. I shall share my part of the deal now. The Techno Raiders have existed long before I was born. I was born on this ship.”
Mike’s stomach fluttered at the information, and he didn’t manage to hide his surprise. “Your tattoos. Where are they from?”
“My parents carried them—all pirates of this ship carry them. It comes from a machine onboard. The Techno Chiromancers can communicate with the machine. We can’t. We have learned a little, but... it’s an entity of sorts. It came with the ship, that much we know. And with the ship, came death.”
“And the Chiromancers’ tattoos?”
“Same way. But, as I said, it’s an entity that chooses the Chiromancers. None of us has ever been chosen, but the ship is the machine, which is why a Techno Chiromancer is always welcome here.”
“And that’s why his tattoos became visible when he stepped off our own ship?”
“We believe so, yes. The majority of those on this ship were born here. Those who weren’t, have never seen... the treasure. I haven’t either, but my parents told of it. Just like their parents told them before that. More than a thousand years ago we hid the treasure and made a map. A map not even the Techno Chiromancers can break.”
“What’s the treasure?”
Aclimes seemed lost in thought as he stared toward the end of the dock, and Mike wasn’t sure he’d even heard him. “With the mutiny, the Techno Raiders were born. With the treasure came death, destruction, power... this ship existed long before.”
“A map even the Techno Chiromancers can’t break,” Mike mumbled.
“Ah, I have hooked you to use your own culture’s idioms.” Aclimes smiled sneakily.
“My culture?” Mike laughed.
“Erikiliens are a people far older than mankind. Most species are. Only a few of these are more poetic than you. I have read and enjoyed Treasure Island many times. Your ability to imagine is one we envy. But in the erikilien’s culture is where the strength of the Techno Raiders is found. And in our cultural heritage, the secret behind the hiding place of the treasure can be found.”
“What is the erikilien cultural heritage?”
“Ha, what is the human’s? You would probably have to think long and hard, looking through architectural wonders, paintings, and timeless works of poetry—there is so much to choose from. I will leave your imaginative mind with a riddle, because your imagination will keep you from finding the solution. It won’t allow you to just see the solution, even if it’s right in front of you. It will have you searching connections. The world is rarely as intricate. Only in a mind full of fantasies.”
“Then your secret is safe with me, because I suck at riddles,” Mike said, laughing.
Aclimes pulled a pad from a pocket and began writing while speaking. “It may make more sense in my language, since your vocabulary lacks the words for some of these concepts. In your language, the riddle would sound something like this... on one is five on two are ten. Six pounds on each must be reached. In life a bond is made. A bond on a mind which in three layers’ twinkle. Two lives live in symbiosis. If one dies, the other will perish as well. If the other dies but let live, then spread its ash over its own form. Resurrected in one form from a bond on a mind and... humans don’t have a word for this. A person of the monotheistic religion of your world would probably call this the key to the Devil’s home.” Aclimes smiled at Mike.
“The Devil’s home?”
“Here is your riddle, mercenary. Now let your imagination work on it for a while. And remember to write down your granddad’s heritage to you. I have now fulfilled my part of our agreement.” Aclimes held out his hand.
Mike recognized the gesture as how humans shook on a deal. He took the hand, and Aclimes squeezed slightly, smiling.
“Take a look around. I will return in an hour.” Aclimes let go of Mike’s hand and left Mike with a head full of thoughts.
“Am I wrong if I say your passion is literature?”
“No, you are not entirely wrong,” Aclimes said as he continued walking.
“Which of the human’s literary works do you find most fascinating?”
Aclimes stopped and turned to face Mike. “Science fiction. Seven hundred years ago the day today was science fiction, yet your minds tend to expect far greater changes than reality can deliver. And your species is known best for your mind’s attempt to understand yourself. Be it the Genesis or where you think yourself heading, then the same fundamental values persist in your thoughts. These thoughts tell far more about you than your world history and the mistakes you oddly enough never learn from.”
“Mistakes?” Mike asked.
“Yes. Doesn’t an old saying of yours say that one learns from his mistakes?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it.”
“The biggest mistakes in humanity are mistakes you make again and again. War among each other is one you never learned from.”
Mike looked down, nodding. He contemplated whether it was even possible to learn from, since no single parameter had ever been identified as the beginning of all wars.
“Have you heard of Lucian’s philosophical science fiction?” Mike asked.
“No.” Aclimes returned to Mike.
“It’s described as the first science fiction story in mankind’s history. Written in Greek in the second millennia. I have a translated version on paper.”
Aclimes’ eyes burned with eagerness, yet his wrinkled expression remained the same. “May I see it?”
“It’s in our boxes.” Mike led him to the mountain of their belongings. He rummaged through two boxes before he found his old books. Aclimes fidgeted while Mike searched. Finally, he found a small box and opened it, extracting an old and worn book.
Aclimes received it with care. “Is it of value to you?”
“Yes, I got it when I was twelve.” Mike was surprised by how eager and excited the captain seemed. Mike had found it when they cleared an old bunker on Key Seven after another rotation at the end of a drought. Several boxes full of books had been uncovered, and Mike had greedily claimed as many as possible. At the time, he hadn’t known what luck he’d struck. The book was the only one he kept with him now—the rest were locked away in a vault on Kanakoon. According to his research, he could be a very rich man if he sold them, because they were made from real paper made from trees on Mother Earth. The binding was goat skin and handcrafted—a craft long since dead.
Aclimes gingerly leafed through the pages and smelled the pages.
“Real paper, not fibers,” he whispered.
Mike found it odd seeing the species treat the book so gently, and Mike got a new feeling about him.
“You can have that one.”
Aclimes looked up. “And in return?”
“Sentimental value can’t be put into a monetary system. I can see that you would appreciate it and take good care of it. It’s a gift received well, I see.”
Aclimes stayed quiet for a while, staring at the book. “Come!” he suddenly exclaimed, and led Mike through the dock at a fast pace.
Keelan, Misery, and Danny looked up as they passed them.
“Come!” Aclimes urg
ed them.
They followed to the end of the dock and through a door. They ended up in a different dock, and it was filled with ships of a completely different class than the ones they had just been looking at.
“Do you recognize any of these models?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Mike mumbled and stepped up to the one in the middle of the dock as if on display. “This one is at least three times the worth of the Hunter.”
“And this one?” Aclimes held up the book in its protective case. “I will trade this one for the Hunter. Even good will can be traded.” Aclimes waved the case.
“A Galaxie seven hundred?”
“CCH,” Aclimes added, and Mike’s stomach fluttered.
“Can we look inside?”
Aclimes opened up the ship, and Mike walked up the ramp. He looked around the inside of a ship known to be the top of luxury, the peak of practical qualities, and the overall example of manmade ship quality. Taking in the details left no doubts that the ship had been well maintained.
Mike turned to look at Keelan, Misery, and Danny as a smile stretched his mouth uncomfortably wide.
“Looks like our deal is about concluded,” Danny said. “The ship is approved. Now, let’s go write that program.” Danny smiled and poked Keelan.
“Good.” Aclimes nodded, looking satisfied as he held the case close.
“Is it ours?” Misery asked. Mike nodded, and Misery jumped excitedly. “Where’s my room?”
Chapter Twelve
Once again, Keelan sat and watched Danny work, which left Keelan with nothing but his thoughts. It looked like Mike had become friends with the Techno Raider captain, since they suddenly got such a beautiful ship. Misery was so excited about the new ship that Keelan barely had the heart to deny her request to help out. Had it not been for the budding friendliness between Mike and Aclimes, Keelan would not have let Misery work in the docks on moving their stuff without being present himself. But he felt she was safe now.
Danny once again sat with several VID’s full of faces with intricate tattoos. And everybody was saying things Keelan didn’t understand a word of.
Mike, Misery, and Aclimes came in and joined Keelan, breaking the boredom.
“We moved in, but we need to stay in the apartment until Danny finishes up,” Mike said.
Keelan nodded, looking at Misery. “Did you get a good room?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed. “When’s he done?”
“I have no idea.”
“I’m gonna go back to the apartment,” Mike said. Misery sighed and followed.
Keelan smiled at her before returning his focus to Danny working. He’d much rather be working out than sitting still for so long.
“As agreed.” Danny held up a box.
Keelan groaned in relief.
“Is it finished?” Aclimes asked.
Danny nodded, and handed the box to Aclimes. The captain ordered the people in the room in a language Keelan didn’t understand, and the people rearranged some tables so that two faced each other in the middle of the room—both with a computer. Every Techno Raider looked eager and happy.
“Nat, shall we try it?” Aclimes asked.
“Of course,” a female egbrasil said, stepping forward. She sat at one of the tables, Aclimes at the other. They looked at each other like they were getting ready to battle, and Keelan got the sense that it was both a training session and some form of duel to prove their skills.
“What are they supposed to do?” Keelan whispered.
“She has to hack Aclimes’ computer,” Danny whispered.
“And the program?”
“It’s to make sure he can see her trying to hack him, but then find her without being detected.”
A computer made a noise, and a speaker came to life, blaring an ominous laugh. Danny snickered while Nat looked at her computer, stunned.
“Am I supposed to keep going?”
“Is your security compromised?” Danny asked, but he looked like he already knew the answer.
She looked up, shaking her head.
Aclimes watched his screen and apparently noticed something in the bottom of his screen. Danny made a naked sock puppet with his hand and glanced at Keelan while snapping the puppet’s mouth as he closed in on Keelan’s arm. Once in contact with his skin, he imitated a feral carnivore feasting on his upper arm.
Keelan smiled.
“Nothing happened!” Nat said. “Hack ended.”
Aclimes looked at Danny.
“Reboot, Nat,” Danny said. “Or wait. Before you do that. Aclimes, that little rat that popped up on your screen. Activate it.”
Aclimes did something Keelan couldn’t see and smiled. “My, my.”
“What did you get?” Danny asked.
Aclimes smiled at Nat and pushed in a command. A VID came alive, and Nat showed up on it.
“How the... ” She placed her hand over her VID-cam, but it was an older recording of her from when she’d performed the hack.
“You have disconnected from him completely, correct?” Danny asked.
“Yeah, I’m logged off the network.”
“Check security and breaches on your computer,” Danny continued.
Nat ran a check. “No new software.”
“Exactly. Aclimes, go to the rat file you opened and do a search on her VID-cam.”
Aclimes must have done so, because seconds later the recording on the big VID changed to a live feed of her.
“When you hack someone, you open a door. Once you finish the hack, you close it. But you have to get out. This program makes your entry into another computer the Trojan horse on your own computer, because as you leave, you take a few codes with you. These codes don’t install new software, they recode your already installed hardware’s software. In this case, your VID-cam. That’s how Aclimes can see who hacked him. He’s inside your computer because you approved it when going into his. This program works through a SpyWeb, and Nat’s SpyWeb is right now the revolving door that allows a live feed to be sent from Nat’s computer.”
Aclimes leaned back in his chair, staring at his screen. “Finally, something that can bypass a SpyWeb. Our deal is then complete.” He got up and pointed toward a computer.
Danny made a call, and Mundurra answered. “The deal is complete. Please transfer their share of the loot.”
“Shall be done. Safe travels, my friend.”
Danny disconnected the call and looked at Keelan. “Ready to pack?”
Four hours later, Keelan once again watched Danny work, but it was on their new ship, where he checked all systems and programs. After having had to watch what he said in the apartment, Keelan was happy about Danny’s precautions because the last thing he wanted was to be tracked by these pirates again. It wasn’t necessary for him to watch Danny all the time now, so he also walked the ship to get acquainted with it.
He heard Misery whooping in her room and opted to start there. He ran his hand past the door opener—more techy than the Hunter—and found her unpacking. Apparently, the reason for her joy was finding that she had three times the closet space she’d had in the Hunter. The rooms were even big enough to have access to a private shower and toilet.
She turned and started at finding him standing in the door. “Dad!” She tossed a shirt at him. He caught it and folded it.
“Here. Have you been all over the ship?”
“At least a thousand times.”
“That’s more than a few. Would you be my guide then? Show it to me.”
“Okay!” She tossed the shirt he’d just folded into the closet and closed the door. “Let’s start here.” She stopped in the middle of the hallway to point in a direction Keelan hadn’t been yet.
“Why not in the cargo hold where we enter?”
“We can do that.” She turned and ran off. Keelan jogged after her, finding it liberating that the halls were twice as wide as in the Hunter. Everything was twice the size except for the arsenal, since it was all luxury and prestige and
not four rooms for military personnel. Eight in the Hunter’s without a training arena.
Keelan remembered his own stupid questions about why there wasn’t more room on a military ship. He did see the advantages in the answer—that Hunters looked like freight ships and could thus land without drawing too much attention on spaceports so SOUPs and DICs could handle their covert missions without a lot of eyes.
That Hunters came in different sizes—where Mike’s was the smaller of the model—was a different matter. The biggest had enough room for a platoon and then some, with a bigger training arena, common room, cockpit, and cargo hold. Something the size of their new ship, Keelan believed, but with less finesse.
“Okay!” Misery jumped where she stood in front of the ramp. She spread her arms wide and smiled. “Cargo hold!”
Keelan laughed and went to stand next to her.
“Have you ever locked down a cargo hold after provisions arrived?”
“Nope, just picked stuff up after having gotten lost in the log for an hour trying to find out where to find it.” She looked at him as if she expected him to put her to work.
“A lesson for later, then.”
“How much provisions are we getting, you think?”
“Not a fart to tickle.”
“Well, there’s enough room, as you can see. And if I may direct your attention to the hall on your left,” she said and went that way. “There is also a hall to your right, and the view from there mirrors this one.” She pointed theatrically.
“You sound like a sales person.” Keelan grinned.
“I saw it on a program once.”
Keelan followed her up the stairs against the hull. They ended up on a crossing gangway and by a door into the ship.
“Rooms almost all the way down these two hallways, except for that one because it has a romp room.”
Keelan blinked. “A what?”
“A romp room. You know, play room. Big enough to play ball in or something. A bit smaller than the training arena on the Hunter, but a decent size for training, unless you count running.”
“Show me,” Keelan said.
On their way there, Keelan stopped to pop his head into a few of the rooms, finding them about the same size as on the hunter. What separated their hall from these two were the sizes of the rooms and the fact that these didn’t have a private bath and shower.
Learning the Hard Way 3 Page 15
