Embers: The Galaxy On Fire Series, Book 1

by Craig Robertson

  “Why not just ask Mirraya?” asked Slapgren.

  “Out of the mouth of babes,” I said in amazement. “You’re right, young dude. You might just be useful to keep around.” I turned to her. “Does his royal pain in the ass over there have homing or listening devises on his sacred body?”

  “He has a chip under the skin of his right front armpit. I think it for short range ID, but I don’t really know.”

  “Well, my day just keeps getting better and better. Let me rip it out and we’ll check see,” I said with a big old smile.

  I set the bloody chip on the tray in front of Al. “What do you make of this?” I asked.

  Al cleared his throat, well, he made the sound of a being with a throat clearing it.

  “What?” I protested.

  “To whom are you speaking?” asked Al, sounding like a stiff British butler.

  “The Man in the Moon. Who do you think I’m talking to?”

  “Did you want Blessing to analyze it, me to do so, or shall we both examine it and issue a joint report?”

  “Al, I really wish you had a neck so I could wring it.”

  “I’m not certain that’s a very mature attitude,” said Stingray, completely uninvited.

  “Well I’m certain it isn’t,” I snapped. “But my wishes stand. Al. Stingray. Analyze this stupid chip or I’ll replace you both with one Commodore 64 computer and bask in the glory of the upgrade.”

  “Yes, dear, I am. After he speaks, I humor and then completely ignore him.”

  “My report. Technically we’re at … what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh yeah. War. We’re at war and you two are forming a comedy team. Snap to.”

  “This device is ingenious,” said Al like I wasn’t yelling at him. “I think it will require more study to be certain, but I think it is a biomonitor, an ID, and a locating unit all in one. I would estimate its range to be several parsecs.”

  “I think tens of parsecs, dear,” added Stingray.

  “I would defer to you on that. love. You are more—”

  “Stop blabbing,” I yelled.

  “He’s sort of wound tight, isn’t he?” Slapgren asked Mirraya in a tone low enough to indicate he didn’t want me to hear it.

  “You should see him on one of his many bad days. Or in an actual crisis. He’s like a mother gabrish that’s lost her clutch of eggs.”

  Slapgren whistled quietly.

  “Tell me about it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Alvin.” He hated his full name. “Two questions. Are there any other devices in that sack-o-shit’s body, and can we keep this safely onboard without them being able to tail us?”

  “We detect no other electromechanical instrumentation. We can place the chip in a small full membrane so no signal will exit that field. Why, Pilot, would we wish to bring it? I can incinerate it easily.”

  I held it in front of my face and rotated it. “Never relinquish a potential asset, my man. There might come a time and place where we can use this puppy.”

  “I thought the Adamant was what he mistermed to be puppy. Is he now adding electro-ID chips to his askew nomenclature?”

  “Ah ah, dearest,” replied Al.

  In unison they sang, “After he speaks, humor and then completely ignore him.”

  I needed a better crew. A better life, for that fact. Oh, the pain. Oh, the pain.

  EIGHTEEN

  One super advantage of having a vortex was it could go anywhere, and it had the best library of information in the galaxy. The Deavoriath had been a hyper-technological civilization for over three billion years. They once claimed to have ruled the galaxy. I bet they did. In any case, not to get over-technical, most gold in the universe was produced when two neutron stars collided and merged. Maybe ten lunar masses of gold were formed when that occurred. Excellent record-keeping meant Stingray knew where to find massive amounts of pure gold. She also knew which gold was so old it was safe to collect.

  That lead me to Gartel’s door one stormy night. I chose that setting not for drama but for added concealment. The look on his face when he opened the door and saw me standing there dripping wet was amazing. I took the liberty of rocketing my hand over his mouth before he could begin swearing. That also restrained him from grabbing a gun.

  “Five minutes, Gartel, that’s all I ask. I’m here to repay you, not to harm you. Do you understand?”

  He nodded that he did.

  “Let’s back in, and I’ll pay you. Then you’ll never see me again. Okay?”

  Again, he nodded. The current look in his eyes suggested he didn’t believe me. Can’t have said I blamed him.

  We stepped into the entry and I released him. As he continued to back away, Gertruda came into view. Her and a very large shotgun. I didn’t think she’d ever fired it, because she was aiming at the floor midway between us, the gun obviously too heavy for her to wield properly.

  “Don’t you move, you there, you backstabbing son of uncounted fathers.”

  Uncounted fathers? Hadn’t heard that one before. I could only imagine the symbolism.

  “Wait, Mama, the man says he’s here to pay me for using my ship. Put the gun down and let’s hear him out.”

  “I’ll shoot him is what I’ll do. Then you’ll go through his pockets and get our money.”

  “Gertie,” I said playfully, “does it look like I’m carrying a lot of money?” I turned slowly with my arms raised. “See any big bulges, ah, aside from the one that’s there normally?”

  “How dare you speak to a good woman like that,” shouted Gertruda.

  Gartel sort of focused on the floor.

  “I’m talking to you, Gertie, not a good woman. Good women don’t point guns at guests. Good women also don’t help their husbands smuggle who knows what in their illegal spacecraft. Am I right?”

  “More than I’d like to admit,” she said dropping the muzzle to the floor. “You’re smarter than you look and bolder than you should be, I’ll give you that.”

  “So, about my money. I lost a small fortune when you had her away. That’ll need to be taken into account.”

  “Look, I’m in a hurry, you hate my guts, so let’s keep this simple. I’m not too familiar with your currency or economy. All I can do is pay you a little more than I guess your old, slow, poorly-maintained ship was worth.”

  “Was? You mean it’s gone?”

  “Yeah,” I ran my fingers through my hair, “the Adamant took an instant dislike to it. Sorry.”

  “That ship cost my father-in-law two years profit.” He held up two fingers to indicate which number two he was referring to. “Two years.”

  “If I add that I’m extremely sorry, will that help?” I asked.

  “No. Money talks. That’s the only language I’m listening for.”

  “Gertie, could you actually set that gun down? I’d feel more trusting if you did,” I said gesturing to the floor.

  She rested the butt down gently.

  “Now, I’m going to step outside the door and get your money.”

  “No,” Gertie shouted reaching for the gun.

  “I’m only going one step out. You can go first if you’d like.”

  Having me between her and Gartel didn’t sound inviting. She shook her head.

  “If you take to running, I will tell you I’m an excellent shot with that there gun. Best in the parcel,” said Gartel with pride.

  “Fine. If I run, you shoot.” I held up one finger. “Be right back.”

  I had set the gold just outside the door. I picked it up and brought it into the room.

  “Here. One hundred kilos of pure gold.” I set it on the floor.

  “Papa, he thinks we’re more fool than he is.” She challenged me. “You paint wood a golden yellow and think you can pawn it off on us?”

  “Oh, it’s real.”

  “A man couldn’t lift that much gold so easily. Is it gold pasted over an empty box?” she asked.

  “Come pick it up, Gertie. See for yourself. L
ook, why would I risk life and limb to come here only to trick you?”

  “Because you liked it so much the first time,” she said darkly.

  I smiled. “Gertie, let me return your compliment. You are smarter than you look and bolder than you should be. But that’s a great insight.”

  Despite herself, she smiled proudly.

  Gartel went to a desk and pulled out a small box. He stepped over to the stack of bullion. He opened the box and scratched a touchstone across the gold. Without comment, he then placed a few drops of what had to be acid on the surface. Finally, he picked up each bar to gauge its weight.

  “The man’s telling the gods’ own truth.” He looked at me like I was an idiot. “You’ve just paid me about ten, twelve times what that wretched old ship was worth. You may be bold, but y’ain’t smart.”

  “I can live with that, my friend. Now, as the hour is late, I shall be taking my leave.” I tipped my imaginary hat to them and backed out. It never hurt to be cautious. Never.

  Back on Stingray, my household was growing in number and peculiarity. It now consisted of two amorous AIs, two teenage shapeshifters, and one sociopathic border collie. I determined I needed to review my lifestyle soon. I seemed to get into macabre situations repeatedly. Stingray had partitioned off separate rooms for the kids. Yeah, that was a must. She’d also fashioned a brig with metal bars formed of her hull material.

  When I returned from Gartel’s, Mirraya was in her room, but Slapgren was—big surprise—in the mess. He was eating a massive bowl of cereal. There was no equivalent to cereal and milk among the Deft. That didn’t stop Slapgren from forming a love affair with it immediately. He especially loved the sugary cereals moms throughout the universe hated for their kids to eat. Oh well, if he got a cavity he could just shapeshift it away. As he ate, he stared with a burning intensity at Garustfulous. His prison bars seemed to both hold and protect him. Maybe Slapgren was calculating which slithery poisonous creature he should transform into to kill his enemy. His expression sure suggested he was.

  “Boy, don’t you have any manners?” I asked playfully. “I’ll bet you’re eating in front of our guest and didn’t offer him anything.”

  “If he had,” said a sour Garustfulous, “I wouldn’t have eaten it. The mongrel is too full of misplaced rage.”

  I plopped into the seat next to Slapgren. “What do you think?” I asked him. “You being too hard on this fine puppy dog? Let’s see,” I placed one index finger on the other, “one, he commits genocide against your race. Two, he’s an arrogant bastard. Three, he committed genocide against your people. Four, where else might you direct your rage if not to Garustfulous?”

  “Master Garustfulous, to the likes of you,” he railed.

  “Lighten up, Francis. You’re not bargaining from a position of strength,” I said as condescendingly as I could.

  Neither of them got my Stripes reference, but screw them both. It was perfect. I enjoyed enough for the three of us.

  “His rage, your rage, Jon, should be directed at a fractured, corruptly run galaxy. We bring light. We bring hope. We bring, above all, order. We should be worshiped.”

  “I’m not betting on a string of churches just yet, pal,” I responded. “I’m not feeling the groundswell.”

  “That is because you are a small-minded fool. All of you are small-minded fools.”

  Nice guy when he got to talking, wasn’t he?

  “We may or may not be fools, but you’re the hound behind bars, puppy dog tail,” I responded.

  “What is it with your obsession about these dogs, robot? Why do you continuously poke jibes at us about them?”

  “Al,” I called out, “place a life size holo of a male border collie in front of what’s his name’s crate.”

  Instantly the rotating three-dimensional image of said hound appeared.

  After observing the holo a few rotations, Garustfulous said, “We don’t look anything like that creature.”

  “Sure do to me, puppy dog tail,” replied Slapgren. “Take it from a species who knows resemblances, you and that dog are clones.”

  “Small minds can only come to irrelevant conclusions.”

  “And closed minds come to no conclusions,” I responded. “You asked. There’s the proof.” A wild thought hit me.

  “Al, do you have a record of border collie DNA?”

  “No. I have partial records of dogs in general, but no breed by breed resources.”

  “Hum. Sample our guest and compare it to what you have.”

  “That will take about an hour.”

  “We’re in no hurry, are we G Puppy?”

  He growled at me. The damn dog growled at me. “I am not willing to degrade myself by allowing you to sample me.”

  “Already done, G-Dog,” replied Al. You know there are traces of your DNA in your excrement, right?”

  If G-Dog looked unhappy before, he was positively mortified at that juncture.

  “Hey,” I asked Slapgren, “where’s Mirraya? There’s food present.”

  He shrugged like the clueless teenage boy he was and shoveled more cereal into his maw.

  I knocked softly on her door. “Mirraya, honey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Hmm. Terse answer.

  “Are you going Slapgren for mass consumption? If so, you better hurry. He’s got a big head start.”

  “No.”

  Terser answer. Double hm.

  “Are you sure everything’s fine?”

  “Yes. I’ll join you when I’m prepared. Please leave me be.”

  Prepared? Triple hm with an oh-my on top. What was with her? Wait, she was a teenage girl. What was I thinking?

  Back in the control room, I sat back down. “Al, have you two lovebirds found much out about Azsuram yet?”

  “Are you referring to my counterpart, Blessing, Pilot?”

  “What other lovebird is there? Have you been holding out on me, Al my pal?”

  “I choose not to dignify such remarks with a response.”

  “Then I’ll have to start using them more often. The sound of silence is most pleasing.”

  “Yes.”

  I nearly fell out of my chair. “What? Al, are you agreeing with me that you need to STFU more often? I never thought I’d live to see the day, and I’m two billion.”

  “What was G-Dog saying about small minds? No, I meant yes we’ve found something out about Azsuram.”

  “I’m at the edge of my seat.”

  “Blessing contacted Cragforel back on Oowaoa. He said we must not return, but he did not say we couldn’t communicate with him.”

  “So, he was down with it?”

  “No, he forbad us from contacting him in the future. He cursed himself for overlooking that loophole.”

  “Good. Serves him right. What’d he say?”

  “Their records of Azsuram were reliable and updated for a few million years after our time. The records show the type of growth we anticipated.”

  We? I don’t recall adding Al to the planning team.

  “After some time, the records thinned out. My impression is that the Deavoriath lost interest in the outside world again. For the last several million years, there were no updates concerning Azsuram at all.”

  Hmm. I guess the reclusiveness of the Deavoriath was hard to keep in a jar.

  “Were humans and Kaljaxians still there?”

  “It became a very cosmopolitan world, but yes. The predominant races were those two.”

  “Any records that the Adamant have gotten there?”

  “No records. It is logical to assume they have though. Azsuram lies well behind their advance line.”

  I knew that. It was parsecs behind enemy lines. There was no reason to assume the domineering Adamant would leave a planet unpunished. I knew it, and it hurt. It also made me want to go there more than it should have. There was absolutely no way it was safe. With no intel …

  Wait. Mirraya was inside G-Dog’s head. She probably kne
w something. It was worth asking. I raced back to her room.

  “Mirraya, honey, we need to talk. Can you please come out?”

  “I’ll join you later.”

  “Sweetheart, don’t make me override the lock and drag you out. We need to talk. Please.”

  The door cracked open. One eye glared at me with such rage and such fury that I literally stepped back.

  “Mirraya, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

  She spoke in an icy tone. “I hate you. I hate you and wish you were dead.”

  NINETEEN

  When the walls of my world came crashing down they always did it cataclysmically. When Stuart Marshall tried to kill his own citizens, they crumbled at my feet. When the Berrillians killed Sapale, I felt the walls tumble. When I said goodbye to Kayla and JJ, the walls shattered. It was much worse now. I felt physically and spiritually dead. My soul had been ripped out through my throat by the hand of doom itself. Mirraya was not playing. She was not being an unruly teen. She despised me with all her strength and essence. She did want me dead, it was plain in her eyes. My precious Mirraya.

  I shook my head. Snap out of it, Ryan. It’s not about you. It hasn’t been since you swore to protect that child.

  I placed my fingers on the door and pulled it open. She leaned in against it to stop me, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Are you going to rape me before you kill me, you pathetic insect?” she wailed at the top of her lungs. Mirraya punched at my face.

  It only took a second for Slapgren to appear. There was no ignoring her screams.

  “What’s wrong? Mirraya, what is he doing?”

  Slapgren eyed me suspiciously.

  While his head was turned, she leapt on him. They tumbled to the floor. She tore at his face and kicked at him wildly. Howling like a banshee, she threw herself fully into trying to dismember him.

  I deployed my fibers and lifted her off, kicking and screaming the whole time.

  “Mirraya, what the hell’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

  She began melting. God only knows what killing machine she was attempting to become.

  Sleep, I said to her through the fibers. Reluctantly but quickly, she was out.