by JN Chaney
The haze of waking faded quickly, and before I knew it, I was myself again.
It was in that moment where people were their most vulnerable, the few seconds when they weren’t entirely certain of who they were or what was going on. I hated everything about it.
“Did you sleep well, sir?” asked Sigmond, talking into my ear.
I groaned, feeling the discomfort along my spine from sleeping on a piece of hard metal. “Put on some coffee for me, would you, Siggy?”
“I shall activate the process right away.”
I grabbed a change of clothes and a cup of liquid caffeine, then made my way to the front of the loading dock beneath my ship.
It didn’t take long for the platform area to fill with activity. Two ships sat not far from mine, and I watched as several engineers began making repairs.
Far as I could tell, The Star outclassed every craft on this rock in terms of firepower. The ships were Stellar-class, which meant they could certainly move. Out here in the Deadlands, you either put your money into weapons or raw speed. If you could afford both, all the better.
Me, personally, I’d stuck a small fortune into my ship, which had saved my ass more times than I could count. Every credit had been worth it.
The door to the inner hall opened and out walked Abigail and Lex. The little girl smiled as she saw me standing on the loading dock, sipping my coffee and scratching my stomach.
“Morning, Mr. Hughes,” said Lex, waving as she approached.
Both of them were dressed far more casually than before, especially Abigail. No church tunic on her this time. Instead, she wore a standard Union-style shirt and pants, the clothes of a working woman. I could finally see how fit she was, toned arms and a lean waist. No wonder she nearly put me on my ass the other day.
“Welcome back,” I told them. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Abigail gave me a confused look. “Of course we are. Didn’t they tell you?”
“All I know is I’m taking some priests to Epsilon.”
“No priests, Captain. You’re escorting the two of us and three scientists.” She paused. “Well, two are archaeologists. The third is an engineer.”
“You look different,” I told her, changing the subject.
“The situation calls for something different.”
“What was the excuse before?”
“People ask fewer questions to members of the church,” she said. “But as you saw, those clothes make combat difficult. We have no idea what we’ll face in the Deadlands. I need to be prepared.”
“You’re not a normal nun, are you?” I asked, scanning her.
“Still a nun, though,” she said, walking past me.
Lex ran up beside me, a wide grin on her face. “Mr. Hughes, can I go play with Sigmond?”
“Sure, kid,” I said. “Go kick his ass.”
She clapped her hands and ran up the platform and into the ship. “Sigmond, are you there?” I heard her say.
Right then, one of the nearby doors opened and two individuals walked into the hangar—a man and a woman. They made eye contact with me and proceeded forward, nodding in my direction.
“Sir,” greeted a heavyset man with glasses and thinning blond hair. He looked nothing like the other priests. “My name is Dr. Thadius Hitchens. I’m the resident archaeologist. Pleased to meet you.”
“Hitchens?” I echoed.
“That’s correct,” he said. “And this is my associate, Octavia Brie. We’re to accompany you and Sister Pryar on your voyage. I promise, you won’t even know we’re here.” He snickered. “Not until we’ve landed, that is. I doubt we’ll be able to contain our excitement once we reach the dig site.”
“The what?” I asked.
“The excavation site,” said Hitchens. “Did no one inform you of the details regarding our trip?”
“All I know is I’m taking you to Epsilon,” I said.
“That you are, sir,” said the fat man. “But there’s so much more to it. Have they really not bothered to fill you in?”
“Look, why don’t you get on the ship and stow your gear. You can bore me to tears later once we’re on our way.”
“Right, of course,” said Hitchens. “Come, Octavia. Let’s do as the good captain asks.”
Octavia nodded, and the two scientists proceeded into the cargo bay.
I started following, but stopped at the sound of another door closing. I looked to see a young man running toward me. Unlike everyone else, he was actually wearing his priesthood robes. The only difference was his age. He couldn’t be more than twenty years old. “Wait! Don’t leave!”
I stopped and crossed my arms. “Now, what?”
“I’m so sorry!” said the young man, running with bags in his hands.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be? Father preschool?”
“Brother Fred…Frederick…Tabernacle…” he said, gasping and out of breath. “Sorry to…keep you, sir!”
“You didn’t keep me. I was just gonna leave you behind,” I said.
“I’m so glad I caught you, then,” he said, dropping his bags.
“You’re just lucky you ran, Freddie. Two more minutes and you would’ve been left behind.”
* * *
The Renegade Star lifted off the church’s landing bay and began its ascent into the cloudy, vanilla sky. I asked Siggy to inform the passengers to stay in their cabins for at least an hour. We’d be out of the atmosphere long before that, but they didn’t have to know that.
We breached orbit in less than fifteen minutes, entering slipspace shortly thereafter. We’d have to switch tunnels at least seven times before we arrived in the Epsilon system. If all went well, there wouldn’t be a problem.
I left the cockpit and grabbed a quick bite from the food locker before any of the holy folks left their rooms. Soup and bread in my favorite chair.
“Can I have some?” I heard a sudden voice ask.
I looked to see Lex standing at the open doorway, staring at me as I sat with my food. “What are you doing out of your room?” I asked her.
She squirmed, and then shrugged. “I smelled it and got hungry.”
“So?” I asked.
She frowned, her eyes fixated on my bowl. “Um.”
“Fine,” I said, pushing the bowl across the table, next to one of the other seats. “I’ve got more.”
She smiled and ran to the table, giggling at the sight of the food. I got up and made some more, then joined her. “Thank you!” she said.
“Just eat,” I said, dipping a piece of bread into the steaming soup.
She watched as I let the bread soak for a second, then tried to emulate my actions. I withdrew the bread and blew on it. She did the same, and then took a bite. Her eyes lit up at the taste. “Mm!”
“It’s Tomato,” I explained. “Expensive stuff, so you better not complain or—”
“So good,” she said, taking another bite.
I watched her inhale the food. “Damn, kid. Didn’t that cult feed you?”
She tried to answer, unable to get the words out with so much food in her mouth. Once she swallowed, she gasped. “Yeah, but it wasn’t good,” she finally said.
“What did they have?”
“Dumb stuff. It tasted like dirt,” she said.
I nodded, then took another bite of my own food. We sat there together, eating soup and saying very little. The blue tattoo on her neck stuck out when she bent to dip another piece of bread in the bowl. I couldn’t help but stare curiously at it. What kind of idiot had tattooed such a little girl? The nerve of some people.
“I don’t know what it is,” she said, suddenly. The words jarred me.
“Huh?” I blinked at her, and she stared back at me.
She pointed to the mark. “You want to know about it, right? Everyone always asks. That’s why I was in the other place, before Abby found me. Those people wanted to know about it, too.”
“It’s a tattoo, isn’t it?” I asked.
/> She nodded. “That’s what they called it. The doctors from before.”
“Doctors?” I asked.
“They were bad, but Abby stopped them,” she said, taking another bite. “I never want to go back.”
“Where did your tattoo come from?”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember. Sometimes I think it was always there.”
“Always?” I asked. “Someone had to give it to you.”
She didn’t answer, but instead focused on her food.
Looking at the marks, they didn’t resemble any familiar pattern. Was it a tag of some sort, the way a rancher marks his livestock? Was it so the Union could spot her easier, should she ever get away from them? Maybe that was why the nun had placed her in a box, so that no one would see the mark and report them, but weren’t there easier ways to track a person than a tattoo? And if that was the case, why didn’t Abigail simply cover the mark with a cloth? Why not go to a back-alley surgeon and get it removed?
No, there had to be something else to it. Something I couldn’t see.
Lex finished her soup, then stared at the empty bowl.
“You want some more?” I asked, seeing the hunger still in her eyes.
She looked at me, timidly. “Can I?”
“Sure thing, kid,” I said, standing and going to the food dispenser. “Just do me a favor, would you?”
“Okay,” she said.
“Next time you want something, just ask. Don’t just wait for me to give it to you.”
“Wouldn’t that be rude?”
I laughed. “Kid, I know you’ve got a nun for a guardian, but take it from me. The galaxy ain’t made for that kind of talk.”
“It’s not?”
I poured a fresh cup of soup and placed it in front of her. “In this life, you take what you need to survive. If you spend your days worrying about other people’s feelings, you’ll never make it anywhere. You get me?”
“Yeah,” she said, staring at the steaming bowl sitting before her. “Thanks, Mr. Hughes.”
* * *
“What a sight,” said Hitchens, looking out the window of The Renegade Star. “I never get tired of seeing this.”
He was referring to the slip tunnel, of course, and I had to say I couldn’t blame him. The walls of the passage were always so bright and colorful, with random bursts of what looked like lightning.
I watched the group of passengers huddle together to see the show as we passed through the tunnel. Abigail was the only one ignoring it, probably because she’d just spent several months flying from one system to another. She probably had her fill of it by now.
“What happens if we go over there?” asked Lex, pointing to the tunnel wall.
“Bad things,” said Fred, who was so young I could have been—well, not his father, but a much older brother, at least.
“Like what?” asked the girl.
Fred thought for a moment. “Think of slipspace like a river, Lex. Right now, we’re following the flow, so it’s pretty easy to keep going forward. If we move around too much, though, we could drop into another stream. If it’s going in the opposite direction, the two currents could tear the ship apart.”
“Oh,” said Lex, and I was sure she didn’t understand.
“There’s more to it than that, of course,” said Fred. “We don’t always use these tunnels when we travel. They’re simply the fastest method for long distance, although we can discuss that later.”
He was wasting his time, trying to explain faster-than-light travel to a kid, but who was I to interrupt? Maybe some of it would sink into that head of hers.
“Listen up, tourists,” I said, grabbing their attention. “We’re about to arrive at the next S.G. Point. Might want to have a seat.”
“Certainly, Captain Hughes,” said Hitchens, a jolly grin on his face.
“Jace is fine, Doc,” I said.
The group joined Abigail, strapping themselves into their seats around the lounge. Fred had to help Lex with her buckle, but after a few seconds, everyone was secure.
I returned to the cockpit to do the same. “Siggy, are we ready?”
“Dropping in five,” said the A.I.
We came out of the tunnel, decelerating, and raising the cloak. It took about four minutes to ready the next slip, so I pulled out another hard candy—orange this time—and unwrapped it.
I waited for Siggy to give me the go-ahead on the next jump as I eased back in my chair, watching the digital displays from the various cameras along the ship. One of them showed the previous tunnel entrance, still open, and with no sign of closing.
The blue and green colors flared inside, refusing to stop. I waited, expecting a change, except nothing happened. It wasn’t closing.
“Siggy,” I said, after more than a minute of this.
“Sir?” he asked.
I leaned on the dash, watching the display. “Why hasn’t the tunnel collapsed yet? Are we too close to it?”
“I don’t believe so, sir. We’ve moved far enough away that our position should have no effect on it.”
“So, what’s wrong? Why hasn’t it stopped?”
“Barring some anomaly, I would hypothesize that another ship is about to arrive,” he said.
“Another ship?” I asked.
“Based on the available data, that scenario seems the most likely, sir.”
“Are we close to any space stations? Any colonies?” I asked.
“No, sir,” said the A.I. “Not unless one was erected in the last three weeks, since my last update.”
I debated moving The Star to a safer nearby location—maybe behind an asteroid or a moon—but there was no reason to panic. Not yet. This could have been anything. “Start the next slip, Siggy. Get us out of here.”
“Right away,” he said.
The cloak dropped and Siggy activated the slip drive, opening the next tunnel. I took us forward and into the rift, passing into the tunnel.
I was never one to panic, so I didn’t jump to any immediate conclusions about who was behind us. In all likelihood, it was probably nobody. Maybe just a freighter or a ship on its way to some planet. Whatever the case, it had nothing to do with me, so there was no reason to worry.
At least, that’s the story I told myself.
EIGHT
There was a knock at my door and my eyes snapped open. “Captain, are you in there?” I heard the voice ask.
I looked at the time. To my surprise, I’d been asleep for nearly six hours. I usually didn’t rest that long with passengers onboard.
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up and twisting around so my feet were on the floor.
“It’s Frederick, sir,” he said.
“What do you want, Fred?” I asked, reaching beneath my bed to grab a swig of water from my jug.
“I was hoping to talk to you, if you have a moment.”
I got up and opened the door. He was a little shorter than me. Probably still growing, given his age. “What?” I asked, taking a drink.
His eyes widened as he stood there. “Shouldn’t you put on some clothes?”
I glanced down at myself, then chuckled. “Woops!”
Fred turned away. “I’m so sorry!”
I grabbed my pants. “It’s fine. What do you want?”
“I had to make sure you were up-to-date on what the mission is, once we arrive.”
I buckled my belt, then grabbed my shirt. “What’s it matter?”
“What’s it…matter?” he asked, echoing my words.
“I’m just your ride, last I checked. A glorified taxi service.”
“Is that what they told you?” he asked, peeking through his hand to see if I was dressed.
I raised my brow. “More or less.”
“Oh,” he said, finally looking at me. “The mission report I have states you’re to join us on the surface. Your protective services are meant to extend beyond the confines of the ship.”
“You mean those priests expect me to be your m
uscle, too?”
“Along with Sister Abigail,” he said. “No one at the church has any experience with combat. She was the only one. I wouldn’t worry, though. The only concern is the wildlife. No humans live there.” He paused. “Well, not anymore.”
I thought about the deal I’d struck with Loralin. She hadn’t mentioned anything about me protecting these people. “No, this wasn’t the deal,” I said. “You call your boss and tell her I’ll need more money.”
“More money?” he asked.
“What is it? Worried they’ll say no?” I asked.
“That’s not it,” he assured me. “It’s just that we’re too far out of range. The church isn’t equipped with a high-grade com system. Instant communication won’t be possible unless you’re in a neighboring system.”
I gave him a look.
He raised his hands. “But don’t worry! I’m sure they’ll agree once we return. I can speak on your behalf.”
