“In that case, my sister is dead… Tell me why I should not erase the stain your conversion will make from the history of our family name?” The eyes of the woman on the screen flashed a sudden change to hatred. The conversation turned ugly too quickly for Jax. “I don’t see how you can join that family… They have been our most hated competition for generations.”
“That is all the more reason to end this senseless feud. Enough blood has been spilled over our families fighting. It is time for one side to make a move to peace. I choose to make that move.”
“That is not your right to make. I’m sorry, I can’t let you do this to me, to our family. We have too much invested in the feud to end it now. There is too much bad blood between us.”
“Just let me go, sister.”
“You know I can’t do that.” With the final words, the screen went black once again.
The captain grumbled, “That didn’t go as planned.”
“She will not attack your ship. It will do her no good. The damage has been done.” The cargo, Esmer, spoke in too calm a voice for someone that just experienced such a family drama. “Please take me back to my stasis chamber. We have a long journey left to travel.”
“Captain, the DanChan is maintaining course,” the navigator said.
Jax studied the face of each alien on the bridge. There was no way to determine the feeling any held inside. They all remained blank-faced.
“First Officer, put the lady back in her box.” The captain returned to his couch.
Jax had little choice. His voice carried zero weight in this decision-making process. He wasn’t sure what decision, if any, had been made.
It was his job, however, to make sure the cargo remained safe. That stipulation remained perfectly clear in his contract. He followed three steps behind Whiz and Esmer.
Back in the hold, the dark-skinned woman handed back the first officer’s coat. “Thank you for your kindness in these trying times.”
“Will you be safe going back under so soon?” Jax knew she would be, but he felt the need to say something, anything, to the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“I will be fine. When I wake up again, I should be male. There is nothing my family can do to stop that.” Esmer climbed into the black box and lay down in the form-fitting indent made for her tiny body.
“Good luck with that…” What else was there for him to say?
“Seal her up deck-ape,” Whiz grunted as he slipped his coat back on.
Jax pushed the top closed, and the unit took over. The only indication all went well was a soft hum when the unit kicked on and put the woman in the box back to sleep.
The box safely closed, Whiz said, “We need to get her ready to transfer.”
“What?” Jax didn’t understand what happened.
“I just got the word. The captain cut a deal. We turn the cargo over without a fight, they don’t erase the evidence.”
The feeling of dread returned to the pit of Jax’s stomach. “But they are family…”
“Yes, a tight-knit one, one they are ready to kill to protect.” Whiz floated to the ladder. “Just get the cargo ready to move. We are slowing to allow the transfer.”
The entire event didn’t sit well with Jax at all. It wasn’t like the captain to turn over a cargo, to break the shippers’ code, over what had to be a family argument. It mattered little. He had no voice in this decision. Orders given, he needed to prep the cargo for transfer and hope the Prod captain didn’t blow them out of the sky after all.
The intervening two hours passed quickly.
The two ships docked, airlocks connected with an umbilical. Both matched speed, traveling faster than Jax even wanted to consider.
Whiz stood at the airlock awaiting the transfer. “You’re sure about this?” His expression never changed.
Jax shook his head. His green rucksack full of his belongings lay across the top of the black box. “Not really, but this cargo I signed for. When it comes up missing, it will be my ass, anyway. At least if I stay with the box, I can claim I did what I could to protect it.” Jax reached to activate the inner door.
Whiz blocked the control. “They might throw you out the airlock first chance they get.”
Jax rested his hand on top of Whiz’s. “They might… They might also blow you to pieces to keep the secret.” Jax lowered Whiz’s hand and pressed the controls.
“Take care of yourself, monkey-man,” It almost looked like Whiz smiled with no lips.
“You too, gecko.” It was the first time Jax risked calling him that, even if the name fit. “I hope we meet again. The ‘verse isn’t as big as it once was.”
Jax maneuvered the oversized coffin into the airlock and waited for the cycle to finish. Goodbyes were short with the crew of the Moth. He remained certain they would replace him the next port of call with another strong back and clever wit.
There was little time to mourn the loss of his former crew. Now he needed to think on his feet and talk his way onto an alien ship. Whiz was serious, and so was Jax. Both he and the Moth might be killed to keep this whole event under wraps. If that were the case, they would all be dead in short order anyway.
Now, Jax had a new adventure to start. A new race to learn about. A new section of the universe to explore. Out there, he would find his place in the sun.
He only hoped the crappers on this new ship fit.
Containment
The high-powered laser cutter made quick work slicing off slabs of the ore-bearing stone. In the limited gravity of the asteroid, impact or torque tools would be impossible to control. The laser cutter gave Noah the freedom to work quickly. The lack of gravity made the tool light enough for a human to wield for an entire shift. The added boost from the powered EVA suit helped even more.
The life of a miner remained monotonous, a constant search for the ore that would put water in his account. Gold, platinum, silver, and other rare materials were pulled from the rock on the nearby refining station then launched to Far Reach orbit via a railgun launching system. So much of the process had become automated. Noah understood he was lucky to have one of the few mining jobs not done by robots or virtual reality suits.
Vacuum and rock remained unforgiving. Noah traveled from one asteroid to another, always chasing the next strike. Most species liked humans for miners. They complained little, worked hard, and were generally cheaper and easier to replace than the VR suits most races demanded for the dangerous work.
Noah hated to admit it, but humans were expendable in the space surrounding Far Reach Station. With no unified government to speak for the human race, few laws governed the treatment of the species, and with no single voice to raise a protest, little was ever done to correct transgressions.
Thankfully, the spacefaring races all agreed to a certain level of sentient rights, or the humans would have been enslaved en masse by the more commerce-driven societies. Tales abounded over drinks of how humans had been exploited in the worst possible way. Noah had been lucky, never having been taken advantage of by the corporations or privateers he’d worked for.
Noah’s contract stretched for a sixteen-hour workday, followed by sixteen off. A normal work schedule for the area. He’d had worse jobs, and he’d only found a few better. The mine jobs in the central core were supposed to be luxurious in comparison, but they had been taken up by cartels run by the Saravipian traders. Most miners worked deep in the central asteroid via a VR suit. On Far Reach, only the strongest Strobertzy went into the mines. Since the envirosuits were made three sizes too large for a human, there was little chance for a mining job station-side. That left the boomtowns attached to the remote asteroids as the only choice for human diggers.
It really mattered little. No matter how advanced the technology, the job of mining still entailed digging a hole in the rock and pulling out what you searched for. Someone needed to be crazy enough to go underground in search of a payday. Noah proved just crazy enough to do the work.
Most days
, the tram that carried the ore to processing couldn’t keep up with Noah. For him, the laser became an extension of his body. The tool gave him a certain connection to his ancestors he left long ago on old Earth.
His family lost their Welsh accent long ago, but he still felt a connection to the history his family once held dear, even if light-years away from the long-closed coal mines.
Today, his laser fell behind. His pay was based on the quota of stone moved. On a normal day, he reached his goal early and worked to maximize his bonus. But today, the rock proved a bitch. Two hours left in his shift, and he hadn’t reached his quota. He never took a break until the goal was reached. This was the longest he’d worked without rest. Despite his laser performing to specification, the stone fought at every turn.
“One-One-Seven, you are falling behind,” a voice in his ear called out. Noah knew it belonged to his supervisor, the Skoonlin named Kip. His name was much longer than that, but it was easier to call him Kip, and the Skoonlin didn’t mind the shortened version. The shortened version remained better than the murdered pronunciation when most humans attempted his full name. Even the translator unit fought with the sounds.
“Kip, you sure I’m getting full power? The stone is fighting me today,” Noah asked.
“The company requires each miner receive full power. The stone cannot fight. It is an inanimate object.” Skoonlins were never known for understanding sarcasm. A cross between creature and machine, it was hard to tell where one ended and the other started. Looking Kip in the mechanical eyes reminded him of a robot from the old science fiction days. Somewhere deep inside the metal housing sat the real brain of a Skoonlin. Able to transfer from one body to another, rumor held they lived to be incredibly old. A person would think that, over such great lifetimes, they might develop a sense of humor. Even try standup comedy…
Noah chuckled to himself. The thought of Kip telling a joke made him smile.
His drill struck a pocket. The energy torched off a super-heated vein of gas. Without gravity to hold the explosion back, the overpressurization flung Noah up the tunnel. In a sense, the blast saved his life as the rocks came tumbling down in the microgravity.
“Noah, what are you doing down there?” Kip asked.
After he lost contact with the shaft, he bounced up the tunnel, unable to right his ascent until a blockage of stone stopped him from shooting out of the shaft like a bullet. If the stones hadn’t stopped him, he might have reached escape velocity and shot off the asteroid into orbit. Visibility had been cut to near zero. A combination of the freezing hot gas and the dust kicked up by the explosion made it impossible to check the readouts on his arm console.
Thankfully, a rescue crew remained on standby, just in case. Quakes, cave-ins, voids, and gas pockets were a constant danger. As was being buried in rubble from time to time. The armored suit offered protection against the hazards of mining. While the seals held and his supply lines remained intact, he could stay in the mine indefinitely, or until the smell of his own body odor forced him to open the suit for a breath of fresh air.
The struggle was real, but he worked hard to maintain his composure. It would do him no good to become hysterical. He needed to become like the Skoonlin, mech-like.
“I’m fine, I hit a pocket is all. I think I am trapped. Can you send someone to dig me out?” The voice in his mind sounded calm and relaxed.
“Your heart rate is elevated. Did you take damage?” Hiding anything from Kip’s sensor board proved impossible. He kept track of the dozens of miners scattered across the asteroid. “Do a system check. Your comms are breaking up.”
Readouts flew past his ocular display. He didn’t need the readout on his arm. They served as a backup to the information that flowed directly into his brain implant. Many of the old-timers hated the implants, claimed they gave them the craps. Of course, many of the old-timers claimed everything gave them diarrhea. If the old miners didn’t complain about their bowels, it was some other bodily function… or the knees, it always seemed to involve the knees.
The lights on his suit were the first to go dark. “Shit.” The suit’s HUD came next, followed quickly by the implant. “This is impossible.” The power for the suit contained redundancies for the redundancies. Made for multiple races over the decades, the M-111 mining suit became near perfect. They never suffered a complete system-wide failure.
Noah kept telling himself that while he floated in the dark. With no service, his power assist went dead, as did the airflow from his life support.
If something didn’t happen soon, he would suffocate or freeze to death. His location in relation to the surface would determine which fate his would be. Normally the E-power would have kicked in to give him a few hours. Right now, he had nothing but dark staring back at him.
He was wrong. Something hovered out in the dark. A glow bounced off the walls, casting an eerie purple shadow around his suit.
Noah had spent a good portion of his adult life in one mine or another. He had experienced emergency conditions before, but never like this. The purple glow grew brighter. Something floated up the tunnel, glowing purple wings spread wide.
Noah realized he was holding his breath when a bare hand reached out and touched his chest, right over his heart. Everything went blank.
<=OO=>
“Noah, respond if you can hear me, damn it. Hang in there. The rescue crew is digging you out.” Kip’s voice sounded more stressed than Noah had ever heard before. The creature shouted into his ear.
“I hear ya, Kip… turn down the gain, will ya? You’re killing me.” The lights on his suit glowed, his air flowed, the CO2 scrubbed from his air supply. By the readouts, he remained somehow alive.
“What happened down there? Why did your suit go dark? We thought you were…” Kip spoke too quickly, with too many questions.
Something was wrong. “What happened, Kip? I blacked out,” Noah asked.
“You… died for over an hour.” Kip said the words like he ordered dinner and drinks. There was little strain in his voice when he spoke.
Kip proved correct, something strange did happen. “I’m guessing that can’t be right. I’m no doctor, but normally, death is more fatal. I feel pretty good for being dead.”
“This is no joke… company reps are on their way now. Plan on being debriefed until they learn what you did to the suit.”
“What I did?” Noah felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Leave it to the suits and bean counters to search out a scapegoat. They will want to access the possibility of litigation hazards.
“I suggest you remain quiet.” Kip’s final words on the subject.
“Yeah… right.”
After his hour-long nap, the air started to settle. The purple glow had disappeared. Noah assumed he only hallucinated the glowing winged creature. Down the shaft where the initial blowout happened sat an exposed cavity… something strange. Something out of place.
Humans were known throughout the universe for their curiosity. Normally ending in their death. Whole entertainment programs were devoted to stupid and unique ways humans damaged themselves. Noah had to admit to watching more than a few of them. His favorite was called “Hold My Beer.” A throwback to an old earth joke that still held true.
He had time to kill. It wouldn’t hurt to search out what looked like a strange container at the end of the tunnel. It turned out to be strange, indeed. From the look of it, the material appeared to be rusted iron that was once secured with a heavy chain and held shut with an enormous lock.
Noah took as many mental images as possible of what could only be described as an ancient earth-style pirate treasure chest. It now sat open and empty, light-years from where it might have come from. He searched for any identification of its origins. He was more than a little relieved when he didn’t find the blasted thing inscribed with, “Made in China.”
His rescuers broke through the cave-in shortly thereafter. He was pulled from the shaft and lifted directly to the medical bay
in the mining company headquarters located on a permanent station in the asteroid belt. Noah believed something was amiss, as the company decontaminated the suit before they pulled him out and slapped him into quarantine.
As far as Noah could tell, the company was scared. He didn’t know what he’d found down that shaft, but he doubted it was pirate’s booty.
The authorities segregated him. Forced his body through mechanical decontamination. Carried him via a remote unit deep into the refining station CM-88B. There, he was plopped behind the opaque glass wall of an isolation med bay, scans on his body running around the clock. No human contact made. As far as Noah was concerned, he was the only man on the station. The VR units never counted as life to him, too much like machines. Not much different from the Skoonlin in that regard.
Noah called out to the vids that kept an ever-present eye on him. “I was locked inside a suit! What in the nine hells do you think could have infected me?”
It did little good. No one answered him. Not one med-tech came to see him. If he had a union rep, he would be screaming bloody murder to the man. The problem was there was no miners’ union on this station.
He slumped into the hospital bed and sucked on a tube of provided protein supplement. At least he didn’t have to foot the bill until they let him out of this mess.
He rolled onto his side. After a full shift, he normally found sleep waiting for him, but now, the excitement of the day and the quarantine kept him lying awake. He dimmed the lights, better to rest and try to sleep. He knew those who watched him didn’t need the light to see.
“Noah… can you… are you there?” It was Kip’s voice. “What did you find down that hole?”
Somehow, the Skoonlin had tapped into his neural net, hacked into his brain to send the covert message.
“How the hell should I know?” Noah only needed to think the words, that was the beauty of his implant. As long as the core didn’t tap into the carrier wave, they should be able to talk over this encrypted channel with no one eavesdropping. “Why? What is going on? They have me in lockdown.”
Humble Beginnings Page 14
