Tale of the Spinward March: The Great Khan (Tales of the Spinward March Book 1)

by David Winnie

  “Gods below!” he whispered, whirling to run back to the Keep while screaming to Tenzing over the comm.

  “Father! I have it! I know what to do! Recall the Council! Find someone who can get Samson Beagoodfellow to Terra!”

  “We will win this war!”

  Chapter 18

  July 3053 A.D.

  Six billion years before, in the nebula that would one day be known as the Pillars of Heaven, an eddy knot formed in the streams of gas. As the gas coalesced, it heated. More gases were absorbed as the mass in the gravity well grew. Heat increased. More gas and solid matter increased the density of the new proto-star. Heavier elements were drawn into the whirlpool and swirled into their own small gravity wells.

  A fateful day arrived. Heat and compression fused hydrogen atoms which then split, creating more heat. The elements were further compressed, fusion transforming them into heavier elements that were thrown clear by the massive energies being released. There was a sudden flash, the star Endari 43 was ignited and fed on the colossal amount of hydrogen it had gathered.

  It illuminated a vast nimbus of dust and heavy elements. The smaller whirlpools that now orbited Endari 43 gathered the heavy elements and the inner, rocky planets formed. Further out, the dust and gas coalesced into cooler gas giants. The formation of the new planets didn’t capture all the debris. Vast bands of dust and debris would continue to orbit Endari 43 throughout its lifetime.

  The region acquired as many names as there are spacefaring species. To the Bougartd, it was gesNapt, “the place of garbage.” To the Solarians, Awoos, where they believed departed souls went while awaiting passage to the life beyond.

  To Joe Campbell and Jackson Avaya, it was a place to make money. Back in the Terran system, the debris belt was a wide band, the Kuiper Belt, from Mars to out to beyond Pluto, where a strong man with a little intelligence could make a stake and mine the skies for elements a growing Terran Union needed. He would start working for one of the companies on an asteroid, wearing a cheap, company-owned suit, praying that the radiation coating still worked.

  When enough credits were saved, he’d buy his own suit, then try and hook on with one of the Rock Hounds, the tiny two and three man ships that went scouring the smaller stellar bodies in search of the rare, most valuable elements. It might take years. Truthfully, only a handful ever found gold, or industrial grade carbon that could be pressed into diamond. Rarer still were the crews that lasted more than a few years.

  Their ship, the Leaky Tiki, was the end result of Joe and Jackson’s partnership. The Leaky Tiki was a fairly common rock hound ship. Three hundred feet long, two hundred fifty feet wide, it had two hexagonal decks and an engine cluster on the stern that looked like it had been thrown on as an afterthought.

  The upper deck was where the crew lived and navigated the ship. Sensors and controls dominated its forward third. Amidships and aft were the main computer, the eating area and toilet (although not next to each other) and the sleeping closets. Along the rear area was a gymnasium. Staying fit was an issue on a mine ship as there was no gravity generator for budget considerations. A three-foot-wide rotating track that established a low gravity area, was designed to provide the crew some gravity and act as a treadmill.

  A row of windows completed the upper deck. One of the designers had thought it would be a nice feature and help the miners spot the asteroids they were hunting. Jackson had pictures of his children and drawings they had made for him, while Joe had racy pictures of women on his side.

  The second deck was largely kept unpressurized. It held the airlock, pressure suits and tools of a rock hunter, along with the engine/computer units they would affix to their finds and send the minerals on their way to the process stations. The assay lab was there on Deck 2 as well as the cargo hold.

  Joe and Jackson were an odd couple and a perfect complement to one another. Joe was short, thin and nervous. He was a whiz with computers and sensors. There wasn’t a single component on Leaky Tiki he hadn’t torn apart and rebuilt. Jackson was a tall, powerful black man from southeast Occident. He had the luck about him, able to find just enough salable minerals to keep them in the black. While never finding the mother lode, they were considered solid, steady miners who made enough to keep their ship in good shape.

  So, naturally, Samson Beagoodfellow had recruited them for the big government job.

  They weren’t given a lot of details. They didn’t need them. Samson had told them there was an opportunity for more credits than a motherlode. It would mean going out of system, but the government was fronting all the cost.

  “An’ I won’t bullshit any of you boys,” Samson had told the thirty select crews. “It’s gonna be dangerous. Mighty damned dangerous. That’s why the government is paying you all so much. And for those of you who have…ah, legal issues, well, that’s gonna be forgiven, too.”

  “What’s this all about, Sam?” The grizzled captain of one of the older ships had asked. “Sure as hell the government ain’t shellin’ out all this scratch without a good reason.” Other crews agreed and cat-called the question.

  “Let’s just say there is some aliens out there who mean some bad intentions for us,” Samson said, “and the government has decided to sell them some rocks. Special delivery.”

  Samson had chosen wisely. All thirty crews signed on. Their ships were loaded on three-fold rail ships and departed Charon Station hurriedly.

  The job was simple enough. Each ship would go and find rocks that were greater than fifteen metric tons of iron or nickel. They’d strap guidance computers and sub-light motors to them and look for another. Each ship carried ten motor/computer modules. Samson’s ship carried another three hundred.

  “Ya gotta be quiet, boys,” Samson had stressed. “Nobody knows we’re here and we wanna keep it that way. No tearing around with your sub-lights. Idea is to be delicate-like.” That got a roaring laugh. No one would ever confuse miners with anything delicate.

  There would be a hefty bonus to the crew that assembled the most asteroids and another for who found the largest. And they had only two weeks to complete the job.

  The Leaky Tiki had already mounted its first ten packages. They had taken on ten more units and were out searching the debris cloud for still more. They hadn’t been greedy about the ten rocks they’d mounted; soon as they had one that met the criteria, they’d suited up and strapped the package aboard.

  The radio squawked. “Hey, Tiki, this is Seabrook. You there, Joe?”

  Joe keyed the comm. “Yeah, Sal, it’s me. What’s up?”

  “You guys wrap up your first trip yet?”

  “Yup. Heading out with our second set. You?” Joe asked.

  “Heading in. We got a unit with a fault,” Sal answered. “We’ll pick up a load and head back out.” The hiss of space filled the comm for several moments, then Sal continued. “We found a pretty good field of rocks. Want the co-ordinates?”

  “Sure. Save us some time.”

  They were quiet for several more moments, then Sal asked, “Hey, Joe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This is all really something, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Who’d a thought the future of mankind would come down to a bunch of rock hounds,” Joe mused.

  “You really think it’s that big?” Sal asked.

  “Can’t believe they’d send us all this way if’n it wasn’t,” Joe replied. “Kinda funny though. Rock hounds to the rescue.”

  “Yeah. Well, here’s them coordinates. Good hunting, Joe,” Sal signed off.

  “You too, Sal. See ya in a week.”

  A soft scent awakened the First Daughter of the Vinithri. Third Aide Daughter was outside her sleeping cell, her neck ganglion exposed politely and correctly. “First Daughter, there is a communication from Home world. It is the Mother.” She had conveyed the message in perfect fashion, her use of pheromone-speak was exquisite. First Daughter would let her live.

  It would be undignified to scramble out of her cell, e
ven if Mother was calling. “I obey, of course,” she told Third Aide. “Tell Mother I am on my way.” She crawled from her cell and groomed. No time to clean herself fully; she wiped the sleep from her antennae and polished her mandibles. Erect, on her mid and hind legs, the First Daughter stood nearly six feet tall. Her bulbous abdomen added another five feet to her total length. She was the high caste yellow, with the gold-brown streaks of the royalty andemerald green eyes further denoted her high station among the Royalty of the Vinithri. She wove the vestment of office around her thorax and moved as befitting a noble to the command center.

  Her ship had no name. There was no need. It was one of ten Vinithri colony ship moving in an elegant fashion, in convoy to occupy Earth. Each oval ship was a mile long with its engines mounted as graceful tapers from the front of the ship. Inside each ship, a million worker and warrior class slept in their cells, arranged in an efficient honeycomb-like structure that filled the interior. They would sleep until the Royals and leaders awoke them.

  The convoy’s escort was a dozen Vinithri warships, silver/white starbursts dancing around their charges. The Hecht fleet of solid dreadnaughts led them through otherspace.

  All the center’s crew bowed as she entered the chamber. “I await the message from Mother,” she audibled to the comm officer. The crew were not Royals, not worthy of pheromone-speak, so she vibrated the remains of her vestigial wings together to communicate.

  The otherspace message began, the holo emitter shimmering the majestic form of the Mother of the Vinithri. Her head and thorax were as tall as her First Daughter; however her abdomen was swollen and fifty feet long, laying the billions of eggs of the Vinithri race. Her shell was the mottled gold and brown, reserved for the Mother. Emerald eyes glowed as her daughter bowed, exposing her neck and nerve ganglion.

  “I greet you, my Mother and Mother of us all.” First Daughter released the correct pheromones in the most respectful manner. The repeater transmitted her scent to the Mother’s repeater.

  “I greet My First Daughter,” her mother answered, the pheromone words coming from the repeater. “I have dreadful news. The war is over. We have lost. We are all dead.”

  The First Daughter staggered. “Dead, Mother?” she asked, “How? I don’t understand.”

  “Scientist Daughter Twelve detected movement in our system’s debris field fifteen minutes ago,” Mother explained. “Her colleagues verified that six hundred rocks are inbound as we speak. They will devastate Home World and all of our colonies within half an hour.

  “We have several dozen ships available. I have ordered every single egg, fertilized or not, to be loaded and evacuated. I have also ordered every bit of royal jellies and worker/warrior food also be loaded. Still, it will not be enough to save us.

  “I have failed you all, Daughter. I was to have years to serve you, my children. I had not produced enough Queen jelly to grow a new queen. As such, there will be no more Queens. I shall be the last.”

  The First Daughter’s legs collapsed. “Mother!” she begged. “You must escape! Make your way to a ship and get away. We cannot go on without you!”

  “It is over, First Daughter,” Mother’s scent was pure anguish. “I am dead. You will now lead an extinct people. I can offer one small bit of hope. You must go to the Terrans and surrender. Make any treaty with them you can. They are clever, these Terrans. Perhaps they can find a solution to save us. Otherwise, you will be the last First Daughter.”

  “Mother,” the First Daughter replied, “I cannot…”

  “You must, Daughter.” The image shook. “Ah, the first strike. It seems we do not have the half hour. It will be over soon. Remember my orders, First Daughter. Farewell.” Mother raised her forelimbs in salute as the image danced and shimmered.

  Then she was gone.

  Chapter 19

  July 3053 to October 3053 A.D.

  “My friends, I bring momentous news!” announced Tenzing on every vid, every news source and every media. He explained to joyous Terrans of their salvation from the evil hordes of the Galactic Council with a plan conceived by his brilliant son and carried out by brave miners.

  On Terra, Angkor and Sophia appeared on the balcony of the Union Parliament in Zurich and received the accolades of the throng that assembled there. Planetwide, adoration reigned for the young leader and his bold plan that saved mankind.

  The big blow-out happened under the main dome on Mars Station. The miners had returned on the otherspace rail ships to hundreds of vessels, from tiny private cutters to the Terran Navy Destroyers Quarrel, Boxer and the newest ship, Fisticuffs. The Navy launched Kanata fighters to escort the thirty ships and keep the enthusiastic revelers at a safe distance.

  The governor of Mars greeted the heroes and presented them the keys to the colony. Every whim the miners could imagine was made available. Tables were laid out on the central square, fairly groaning under the weight of food and drink. Women and men flocked to the heroes, offering their bodies…and more.

  For Joe Campbell, it was the debauch to end all debauches. He arrived at the big blow-out in a Saville Row suit from the outlet in Mars City. On his arms were a pair of beautiful women. He had drunk, drugged, danced and partied since the moment he left the Leaky Tiki. He was being held up by buxom women and stims and would crash soon, he knew. But for now, he was going to squeeze every bit while he could still stand.

  Jackson Ayana had left the ship and gone straight home to his wife and children. Having survived months in space normally, he thought the relatively short mission to the Vinithri home world wouldn’t have a significant impact on him. But seeing his family waiting at the door of their home, and considering the impact of his mission…Jackson wrapped his burly arms around his wife and two children, tears flowing freely in gratitude they would live another day.

  Something, he knew, the Vinithri children would not.

  Jackson and his wife arrived at the party shortly after Joe’s grand entrance. They found their seats with the rest of the married miners. His old friend, Curtis Frunnel, captain of the Misty Mae, leaned to Jackson and yelled, “Your boy Joe is in fine form tonight. Wanna bet how much longer he lasts?”

  Joe was trying to climb on the main table. From other nights in the seedier parts of Mars Dome and a dozen other ports, Jackson was certain what would come next. For that matter, nearly all the miners and their spouses knew what was coming next. “No bet,” Jackson yelled back. “I just hope he passes out before the cops show up.”

  “The police wouldn’t arrest him at this party, would they?” asked a starry-eyed girl. She was newly wed to a crewman on Emma Louise.

  “You haven’t seen Joe’s show,” her husband, Paul, told her. “Oh, he’s made it on the table. Here we go!”

  The bleary-eyed crewman wavered. “Gentlemen!” Joe slurred. “Ladies! Your hizzonor Guvnor! I give you a bit of culture with poetry I wrote for this occaizh…this occaizh…for this party! If I may, yerhizzoner…” He bowed to the Governor, nearly spilling from the table. He placed his hand to his chest and raised the other, dramatically cleared his throat and began:

  “There was a young doxie from Mars,

  Who chased after rock hounds in bars.

  She’d take them to bed,

  An’ give them some head,

  Then cry when they went back to the stars!”

  The reactions were boozy cheers and groans. Joe bowed and bowed again. Someone threw a buttered roll at the impromptu stage. It was followed by drinks and more food. Joe stood tall and shook his head. “Very well then, ye heathens!” he hollered. “Ye asked for it, ye get it!” He let out a yell and began singing an unintelligible chanty. Others in the crowd joined in. Empowered by the adulation, Joe danced about on the table, stripping off his soiled and sodden suit.

  Amelia, Jackson’s wife, patted his arm. “It’s time we ladies left,” she told him. “Don’t get too faced, Luv. After Joe’s done and you get him to bed, you have your husbandly duties to attend to.” The other wives
excused themselves and hurried out.

  Joe was down to his boxers. He wriggled and writhed, eliciting more catcalls and hoots. He spied the governor and his wife sitting dumbfounded at the head table. “Yerhizzoner!” Joe cried. He stepped toward the shocked hosts, tripped over the centerpiece and fell slowly in the three-quarter gravity, landing squarely in a platter of canapes and creamed spreads. On his knees and crawling forward, he stumbled into a gaily decorated cake, face first. “Cake anyone?” he belched, and passed out.

  “Party’s over,” Jackson announced. He and Frunnel gathered Joe up as knots of miners saluted Joe and went back to the party. As they carried Joe away, Frunnel remarked, “Is it any wonder we never get invited back anywhere?”

  Tenzing dispatched Angkor and Sophia on a grand victory tour throughout the dozen worlds and stations of the Terran Union. “This is an opportunity, my son,” explained his father. “You are extremely popular for the moment. We have circulated a, ah, more romantic story of you and your wife amongst the colonies. Polls are showing the people are clamoring to see more of the both of you.”

  Since the collapse of the Shurkorov family, the government had its choice of any of their opulent yachts. Both Sophia and Angkor would have been happy on a cutter or even a mining vessel, but Tenzing would hear none of their dissension. “You are representing the Union as well as our line,” he admonished the couple. “The people want to see you as successful, powerful and beautiful leaders. To appear in anything less…well, Ryder and I agree, this is the only ship that is suitable.”

  The yacht was the Siene, sister ship to the late, lamented Pomptenkin. The crew had been replaced by agents known loyal to the Tenzing and the government. On the tour, the Siene was joined on the fold rail ship by Fisticuffs, the Union’s newest destroyer.