The Star Pirate's Folly

by James Hanlon

  Silver nodded. “I agree.”

  “The Core Fleet just swept the belt clean though,” Victor said. “You really think they’d still be making raids so close to Optima after getting thrashed like that?”

  “Hmm,” Silver said, frowning. “It’s possible they don’t have the men for it anymore, especially with Starhawk taking so many. This could be our best chance. Stars know it’s going to be a long time before the Core Fleet comes out this far again.”

  “Otherwise we’ll have to hire more ships, take a smaller cut. We’ll need to overhaul our supply list, then,” Victor said, and flicked the list into Myra’s window.

  “Hey!” Myra objected, and brought her map back on screen. “That is not what I was trying to say! Now if you’ll let me finish—the nearest asteroid has twenty reported incidents within a hundred thousand miles just in the past month and that’s after the Fleet swept through.”

  Victor scowled. “Now you’re being difficult. Of course it’s going to be dangerous. But we’re well equipped in case you’d forgotten our ten cannons, and we can outrun any raiding party they can throw at us.”

  Ferro turned in her seat to address the Captain. “If you don’t think she can handle it I’m happy to take over—”

  Captain Anson started to protest Ferro’s offer and Myra laughed.

  “Oh no—by all means, go ahead,” Myra said, and stopped managing Wanderlust’s course. She couldn’t resist giving it a little starboard roll out of spite, and the view of the stars on the bridge spun sideways.

  For a moment Wanderlust coasted off course and warning messages flooded the bridge’s screens. Victor had just jumped into the captain’s chair to pilot when Robin Ferro recovered Wanderlust with grace, continuing the roll and bringing the ship’s nose back up, settling gently back onto its previous course.

  For a long moment like vertigo no one said anything.

  “Myra, was that really necessary?” Captain Anson demanded.

  No reply.

  “Myra.” Nothing. Unbelievable. He shook his head and headed for the door. She was out of control. “Bill, you’ve got the bridge.”

  “Alright,” Bill said as he eased into the captain’s chair next to Ferro. He nudged her shoulder with his elbow as he passed. “Pretty slick, Ferro, pretty slick.”

  ***

  “Myra, you’re overreacting,” Victor said as he poured himself a glass of lotus wine.

  “Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Myra snapped. “You wanted me like this.”

  “I’m the Captain of this ship. If I can’t even keep control of my own hardware—”

  “Hardware, is that what I am now? Well, maybe I’m faulty! Maybe you should just replace me!”

  Victor took a long drink and refilled his glass. The sweet warmth of lotus left a pleasant tingle on its way down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. You’re not just hardware—you know that.”

  “Thank you,” Myra said.

  “You’re software too.”

  “Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

  She was calm, the fire put out of her. Victor could almost hear the pout in her voice. He’d have to do some digging in her logs and find out exactly what it was that triggered her outburst. Myra never was any good at articulating her emotions, so he wouldn’t bother riling her up again.

  “Tell me some more about these unusual asteroids,” he said, kicking off his boots.

  “I would have been done explaining it to you by now if you’d let me before.”

  Victor waved his glass in a circular hurry-up gesture, the red-violet liquid swishing just to the upper edge. “So tell me.”

  “The pirates are going to be enough of a problem—which I don’t think you’re taking seriously. But besides that, none of the asteroids on this map appear on the record prior to 2302. Before that, nothing. They were never there.”

  “What do you mean nothing? They’re just not on the record?”

  “I mean what I said: they were never there before 2302. Even small objects leave traces of their presence, and these three asteroids are no exception. From 2302 until now they’re part of the normal flow of Styx, interacting with thousands of different objects in orbit. But before that year there’s no evidence of them at all. It’s like they just materialized out of nothing.”

  “Surveyors could’ve missed them before then.”

  “Impossible. Every year after 2302 they show up on the record. Same drones, same equipment, same orbit—different results. There is absolutely no way all three of these independently showed up in the inner belt all the way from the outer comet cloud on the same year.”

  “You’re such a tease, Myra. What are you saying?”

  “Somebody put them there.”

  Chapter 14: Nullo

  Victor tore a hot wheat roll into a top and bottom, spread some jam on both sides, and put them back together on his tray beside the rest of his breakfast—two square sausage patties, scrambled warbler eggs, and a sliced dewcrisp apple. Bill sat down with his own tray across from Victor at the cafeteria-style table in the center of the compact dining room.

  “So what’d you think of Ferro?” Victor asked.

  “She’s sharp. Natural talent,” Bill said around a mouthful of granola. “Says her dad taught her to pilot when she was nine.”

  “Surprising amount of experience at the helm for her age. I’m amazed we found someone like her on such short notice. Thought I’d have to take us out there myself.”

  “Should be another hundred and twenty hours to Optima. After we load up there it’s three weeks to our next stop.”

  “Let’s wake up Truly today,” Victor said. He chomped on his first slice of apple after finishing the sausage and eggs.

  Silver made a face. “Already? We’re still in Core space for another five days. Best we don’t wake him till we need him, I think.”

  “We’ll wake him today,” the Captain said, not confrontationally, but with firm confidence in the action. “I need his thoughts on this job.”

  Silver shrugged. “If you think it’s worth the cost I’ll take care of it.”

  “We can spare a few extra hours of non-combat pay.”

  “Might have to be hazard pay with that girl around,” Silver said. “Even if she is locked up—she’s gone nuts over this whole Starhawk thing.”

  “Yeah, Myra’s been keeping me updated,” Victor said. He waved the final bite of his jam roll. “Star-crossed enemies or something like that, right?”

  “Something like that. You probably know more than me.”

  “Maybe I’ll talk to her. Get started on Truly after you’re done,” Victor said as he rose with his empty tray. “I’ll meet him in the nullroom in an hour.”

  ***

  “Coronis, Numa, Surface, Atla, Salatia, Ymir,” Bee whispered to herself.

  She studied a miniature live map of the Luxar System her pad projected. The map displayed each planet’s orbit with a white line, six wobbling ellipses around Lux at the center.

  Three terrestrial planets made up the Core. Closest to the sun was Coronis, tiny and far too hot to be habitable. Next came the planet Numa—partially inhabited, but mostly a desert wasteland—then Surface in the Goldilocks zone.

  Beyond Surface was the asteroid belt Styx. Optima/67C, a spherical planetoid near the inner edge of Styx, was the biggest of them. The gated settlement built into the rock functioned as a trading and travel hub for the system—anyone wanting to cross Styx without risking a pirate attack had to use Optima’s gates to get from one side to the other.

  Then there was Atla, the hulking gas giant. The titanic gravitational contest between the star Lux and Atla created Styx, pulling the scattered asteroids into limbo. Past Atla lay the ringed storm planet Salatia—and finally at the edge of the system Ymir the ice giant.

  Bee wasn’t used to thinking in terms of the whole star system. She hadn’t even memorized all the planets. Her reality until that point was entirely city-oriented—streets and walls, crowds of peopl
e and flashing signs. She’d never even been outside the dome before, and here she was in a starship on her way to the fringe of civilized society.

  A knock at the door. “Alright if I come in? It’s the Captain.”

  “I can’t open it,” she called as she picked up her pad and stood.

  The door slid open. The Captain was an older man—maybe fifty, Bee guessed—wearing a pair of beaten and frayed brown pants over a skintight black undersuit that left his hands and feet bare. He held a tray of food and a cup of water.

  “Just trying to be polite. I’m Captain Anson. Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “Can I talk with you a minute or you want me to just leave this?”

  Bee didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t expected the Captain to be so hospitable after Bill Silver’s treatment. He didn’t wait for an answer, just padded inside and left the door open. A sharp kick to a hidden wall panel released a small table with folding legs which sprang to attention. The Captain set the tray and cup on the table.

  “It’s too bad you got tangled up in all this. Myra’s told me about your situation. There’s nothing we can do about it now, us being on our way out already, but I can promise you’re free to go once we reach Optima. As long as you behave yourself I’m willing to let you out of your room and treat you like a normal passenger during the trip—this prisoner stuff makes me tired. Deal?”

  Bee nodded yes. “Okay.”

  “Alright, you’re free then. Just don’t ruffle Silver’s feathers,” he said. “He gets cranky enough as is. You’re on the berth deck right now with the crew quarters plus kitchen and dining. This is the only deck you’re allowed on without an escort. Lower deck’s our engine room and nullroom. Don’t go there alone. Upper deck’s the bridge. Don’t go there alone either.”

  “Thanks,” Bee said. “I won’t be trouble.”

  Captain Anson gave a nod of approval. “That’s the spirit. Kitchen’s to the right when you come out, then a left halfway down the hall. Myra will show you where you can put your dishes. And don’t expect to get room service again—you serve yourself, you clean up after yourself.”

  The Captain left Bee to her breakfast. The door slid shut behind him, and for a second she was sure he’d locked her in again. She hurried to the door and swiped the pad to open it. To her relief the door hissed aside. The Captain glanced back at the noise as he walked away and saw her standing at the door. Bee flashed a sheepish smile and ducked back inside to the tray of food he’d left her.

  “He’s such a softie, isn’t he?” Myra said.

  Bee gasped, choking on a bite of roll. Her eyes bugged out and watered as she coughed it back up.

  “Sorry,” Myra said, holding back a laugh. “You’re not used to me just popping in like that.”

  “Scared me,” Bee said, and swallowed. “You don’t have cameras in here, do you?”

  “In the passengers’ quarters? No, of course not. We’re professionals—we’d lose our license for that.”

  “License for what?”

  “Privateering.”

  “Hargrove says privateers are just pirates in sheep’s clothing.”

  “Yeah, has Hargrove ever even been off-planet?” Myra asked. “We do passenger and cargo transport—protection.”

  Bee shrugged. “He knows lots of people from all over. Speaking of, I want to call him. Can I do that?”

  “I’ve been trying to send your message from before, but it’s not getting through. With all the trouble they’re having on Surface there’s been nothing available to receive it. Last contact was four hours ago.”

  She dropped her fork. “So he doesn’t know.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The urge to eat vanished, replaced by a heavy brick of guilt. Bee stood and paced the small room. “Do you know if he’s okay?”

  “The article you read last night was the only mention of his name in the news,” Myra said. “So as far as I know he’s safe in a bombardment shelter along with the rest of the citizens.”

  “I never told him where I was going. I just left. I should have just stayed there this whole time. Starhawk—”

  “Yeah, look,” Myra said. “This whole blood vengeance thing you’ve got going on—it’s cute, but do you really think you stand a chance?”

  “If I can get near him I’ll take any chance I get,” Bee said with sudden fire. “You don’t know half the things I’ve done.”

  “I’m here for you if you want to talk, sweetie,” Myra said.

  Bee opened her mouth but Myra’s kindness, the warmth behind the words, took her by surprise. She didn’t trust her voice. The guilt over leaving Hargrove behind, missing her chance at Starhawk, letting her mother down—

  She wouldn’t cry again. Bee took a breath and steadied herself.

  “No,” she said, and walked to the door. “I like to—it makes me feel better to run. Exercise. Is there somewhere I can…?”

  “The crew uses the nullroom for exercise. They’re checking inventory now but they’ll be done in half an hour. I’ll ask the Captain if it’s okay.”

  “Thanks,” Bee said. She sat at the little table to finish her breakfast, and within moments Myra was back.

  “He says it’s fine. Head down there when you’re done.”

  ***

  After putting her dishes in the washer Bee wasn’t sure where to go.

  “This way,” Myra said.

  A yellow arrow pointing to the right appeared in front of her at the entrance to the kitchen and dining area, suspended in midair. It pulsed with light. As Bee approached it she felt the faint heat it emitted, and when she reached out to touch it the arrow zoomed out of reach down the hallway.

  “Cool,” she said, following it.

  The arrow flitted away again just as she was getting close, this time hovering in front of a closed bulkhead door. Bee reached out to snatch it and the arrow dissolved into warm glimmering sand where she touched it, the tiny particles falling to the ground and fading to nothing.

  “What is this?” she asked, watching it slide through her hands. She could feel the heat the grains of light gave off, but when she tried to press them between her fingers they just snuffed out.

  “You’ve never seen hardlight before? It’s all the rage out on the edge planets. The Captain picked up some new lenses for me on our last run to Atla. Spud can’t get enough of this stuff.”

  “Who’s Spud?” Bee turned the wheel on the bulkhead door and swung it open.

  “You’re about to meet him,” Myra said. “Just try to keep any running or sudden movements to a minimum around him. He’s got a pretty strong instinct to chase.”

  “Uh… okay,” Bee said as she walked into the cramped stairwell.

  The stairs spiraled down in a tight circle to the lower deck. Another yellow arrow waited patiently for her at the bottom. She walked through it to open the bulkhead door and grains of bright sand tumbled off her body.

  After securing the door Bee followed the next glowing arrow as it drifted down the hallway to the nullroom. When she got to the arrow in front of the next bulkhead it exploded in a shower of light that bounced off the walls. Bee flinched and laughed.

  “What exactly is a nullroom anyway?” she asked.

  “You don’t know much, do you?”

  “Not about spaceships.”

  “See for yourself.”

  Bee opened the door to the nullroom. It was a massive space, bigger than she would have thought possible on Wanderlust, at least eighty feet in length and maybe thirty in width and height. She stood in the doorway in the center of its short side looking down the whole length of the room. At first she didn’t see anyone, just rows of dark green shipping containers on both sides with aisles between each row and through the center of the room.

  Then she saw movement at the other end of the room. The Captain and someone in a black armored nullsuit walked toward her on the wall to her right, completely horizontal. The suited one towered over the Captain by a solid foot, she real
ized as they got closer. They both hopped off the wall and twisted midair to right themselves, landing on the ground with ease.

  “Bee, right?” the Captain said.

  “Yeah,” Bee said.

  “This is Spud,” Captain Anson said, waving a hand at the suited behemoth behind him. “He lives in here.”

  “Hey Spud,” she said. “I’m Bee.”

  Spud took off his helmet. His bald oblong head and battered face did his name justice. Suspicious brown eyes peered down at Bee from beneath a hanging brow. “This Spud’s room,” he boomed.

  “It’s not your room, Spud,” the Captain said. “Just because you refuse to go anywhere else on the ship doesn’t make this whole thing your room. Your room is right over there. Bee’s going to exercise in here, so why don’t you give her a little privacy?”

  Spud lumbered wordlessly to one of the many storage containers, pushed one of the double sliding doors along its length aside, and went in. He opened the door on other side as well before dropping into a huge hammock that somehow supported his weight even in the suit. It looked like they’d converted the container into a compact dwelling.

  “Just use the roof or one of the walls if you want to run,” Captain Anson said.

  “Wait, I’ve never—how do you…?” Bee said.

  “You’ve never been in a nullroom before? Not even on Surface?”

  “I never got out much.”

  “Well, I guess I could teach you really quick,” the Captain said. He moved to a control pad on the wall and tapped in some commands. “I’ll just get rid of these.”

  The shipping containers—except Spud’s on the right wall—sunk into the floor until they were completely recessed, their flat tops flush with the ground. It made the room much more spacious.

  “Let’s go,” the Captain said, and beckoned her to follow as he jogged to the other end of the nullroom.

  Chapter 15: Armor

  The Captain stood with Bee at the center of the nullroom floor.