The Star Pirate's Folly

by James Hanlon

  “What’s up Bee?” The AI’s voice always sounded as though it was coming from a conversational distance, even in a large space like the nullroom.

  “What’s with Truly?”

  “Must be hungry. Aren’t you?”

  Bee rolled her eyes for Myra’s cameras. “I mean what’s his story. Where’d he come from? I couldn’t find anything on the Record.”

  “Not my place to say.”

  “Well he’s not going to tell me.”

  “What’s life without a little mystery?”

  “You can’t tell me, can you?” asked Bee. “Why are you guys always keeping secrets from me?”

  “Well, we don’t usually get asked so many questions. We’re privateers, root word private. And anyway, I can’t tell you everything—there’s a lot you’ve told me I’m sure you wouldn’t want me telling the rest of the crew.”

  “Or the Captain?” Bee asked, the question a barb.

  “I’m obligated to share anything of importance with the Captain, you’ve always been aware of that.”

  “So he knows everything I’ve told you?”

  “He wouldn’t be a very good captain if he didn’t, would he?”

  Bee shrugged and stood up to leave. “Guess I just trusted you.”

  Myra snorted—she didn’t have nostrils, but the sound was distinctly a snort. “Please. You knew exactly how far your story was going to get you. It was a good play.”

  “Story!” Appalled, Bee threw her shoulders back and glared into the empty room. “It’s not a story, it’s my life!”

  “There it is!” Myra said with a laugh. “I knew it was still in there somewhere.”

  “What—?”

  “That fire. Starhawk took it out of you, I know. But it’s time to use it now, Bee. You’ll only get one shot, if even that. When it comes you’ll need to be ready if you expect to succeed. We’re all here to help you. It’s time to explain some things.”

  On the floor in the center of the nullroom a figure popped into existence. Bee flinched when it started walking toward her.

  “It’s okay, Bee,” Myra said. Her voice came from the person now, a curvaceous woman with flowing garments, shoulder length red hair, blue eyes, and a friendly smile. She waved. The voice matched her face somehow. “It’s me.”

  Beyond confused, all Bee could say was, “Myra?”

  “Correct!” the woman said with another smile, twirling on her heel. “I would say ‘in the flesh,’ but since it’s just a projection I’d be fibbing a little.”

  “Just a projection—” Bee sputtered, moving closer to get a better look. “Myra, you’re amazing! You look so real. Why haven’t you done this before?”

  The woman—Myra—waved a hand in the air. “Just had to tweak some things, it’s all new equipment.”

  “Is it hardlight?” Bee almost grabbed one of Myra’s arms out of sheer fascination, but stopped herself just short. “Sorry, can I…?”

  “Of course,” Myra said, offering a hand. Her face lit up with delight at the simple gesture.

  Bee took the projected hardlight hand in hers and held it up close to inspect it. The first thing that struck her was the warmth, like a real body. Its surface was smooth as glass, though. She remembered the hardlight arrows Myra had used to direct her around the ship, the pleasant heat the particles gave off. This was far more detailed—even the skin looked convincing. Myra had a glow that somehow seemed natural despite the obvious contradiction.

  “Amazing,” Bee breathed. “You look real.” A thought struck her. “Is this… you? Who you were based on?”

  Myra nodded. “It’s who I was.”

  “Who… were you? Exactly?”

  “Once, I was Victor’s wife.” She waggled her fingers on the hand Bee held, drawing attention to the plain band of black-purple nullsteel around her ring finger.

  Bee’s eyebrows shot up. “The Captain? You’re his wife? The Record never said anything about—”

  “Not everything made it on the Record.” Myra interrupted. “And I wouldn’t trust everything you read on there either. All kinds of reasons to change facts, events, circumstances. Especially after the rebellion. A lot went on during the war that went unreported. Afterward most people were more than happy to take their newfound freedom and look the other way about pretty much anything that went on back then. Plus, at the time we were all sure we’d see an invasion fleet from Earth in fifteen, twenty years at most. It never came.

  “Victor and I married not too long after the Break. Lived a good life for a while together, a peaceful life.” Myra turned away, beckoning Bee to follow, and they walked together around the perimeter of the nullroom. “We ferried goods back and forth between the Core and the outer planets. Back then we still had a few more gates, easier access to some of the more distant settlements. It was safer then. We saw some incredible things in those years. Then the pirates united under Dreadstar.”

  “What happened?” Bee asked.

  “It’s not an easy story.”

  “Well you can’t just stop there.”

  “On our way out to the rim we heard the first reports of Dreadstar’s fleet. We all thought we could drop our cargo at Ymir and return home well before they were anywhere near us. By all reports we should have been able to—but the reports were wrong. The pirates massed their fleet at Salatia’s interplanetary gate, took it over, and cut off Core reinforcements to the planets past the belt. Salatia and its moons became their stronghold.”

  Bobbing her head as Myra spoke, Bee murmured in agreement. “Okay, I read about that, yeah.”

  “At the time no one knew where they came from. There were theories of hidden pirate colonies in the belt, but no evidence. Just unstoppable waves of fresh new predators. You have to understand, too, that this was peacetime. Ten years of silence from the old empire. We were just traders—a lot of ex-soldiers like Victor, but people of commerce at heart. The pirates sacked Salatia’s wealthiest colonies and sent raiding parties out to Ymir and Atla before anyone even knew what hit them. The settlements were beyond unprepared. With Salatia’s gate blockaded we couldn’t get back home.”

  “Home? You were from Surface originally?”

  Myra shook her head. “Coronis, actually. That’s where Victor and I met. A satellite colony called Sunshade.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Nonsense. Any question you have I’ll do my best to answer. No more secrets. I’m an open book to you now, Bee. You understand? That’s the whole point of this. The Captain wants you to know everything. There’s no going back for you now, not since Optima, so you’re with us ‘til the end—wherever that might be.”

  “Got nowhere else to go,” Bee said with a shrug. “You guys are the only thing in the ‘verse I have on my side.” She grinned at Myra. “Except maybe Silver. He doesn’t like me very much.”

  The copper-haired hologram laughed, her lush red hair bouncing as she did. Bee marveled at her, impressed by the realism she made look so easy—and more than that, Myra was beautiful! Sparkling blue eyes, fair skin, faint scattered freckles on her cheeks.

  Bee had always enjoyed the AI’s company, but to see her really drove her humanity home. She wasn’t just a computer, but an actual person! Or she had been at some point. Was she still? What did that make her, technically? Bee’s stomach intruded on her thoughts with a loud, prolonged rumble and she clapped her hand to it to stop the noise.

  “Hungry, I guess,” Bee said with a sheepish smile.

  “Two days without food will do that. Let’s finish talking after you eat, yeah?”

  “But you didn’t even tell me—”

  Myra stuck out her elbow for Bee to take. “Walk with me?”

  “Alright, fine,” Bee grumbled as she linked arms with Myra and started toward the kitchen. Again Bee felt the glassy heat of hardlight on her skin, this time expecting the fabric from Myra’s dress. The surreal conflict between what her eyes saw and what she felt was something she’d have to get used to. Her
head spun with wonder as they walked together and by the time they got to the kitchen Bee couldn’t recall what was said along the way.

  Chapter 30: Zee

  Myra sat her projection across from Bee as the girl devoured her meal of spice sausage buns and hash brown scramble. She’d tried to ease Bee into the rest of the tale a little at a time. First, her former life and her relationship with Victor. Not so hard a pill to swallow for Bee, it seemed.

  Truly didn’t believe her at all when Myra told him years before. He’d said if it could really be done then anyone who could afford to would do it. Myra told him he was exactly right. Many did—and she was far from the first reconstructed consciousness in the system. It was shortly after that conversation that Truly asked Victor to put him down in cryo when he wasn’t needed, just ferry him along inside Wanderlust and wake him for trouble.

  Myra guessed she’d rattled him. Coming to terms with what he’d do, maybe, if he had the chance. Another life after his own? Some new kind of existence? He and the Captain had long conversations about it as time wore on, but Truly withdrew from Myra for a while after he found out. He never quite felt comfortable with her presence the same way he did when she was just an artificial intelligence. They worked together as crewmates but Truly kept his distance.

  Bee’s reaction delighted Myra. The girl was fascinated; all during breakfast she kept gawking.

  “Can you pick anything up?” Bee asked.

  “Nope.” Myra reached out to grab Bee’s cup. As she tried to lift it her skin slipped along the length of the cup, unable to grip it between her fingers. “Hardlight can only exert enough force to provide haptic feedback—like when you press a button on one of my screens. Safety reasons.”

  “Can you feel it?”

  “Not in the way you do, but I suppose so. I know where I’m touching it.”

  Bee shoved her empty plate aside and took Myra’s hand in both of her own, inspecting it.

  “What happened to you?” she asked, looking into the projection’s eyes.

  There it was, Myra thought, that connection. Trust. Closeness. It didn’t matter that when Bee looked into the hologram’s eyes there was nothing really looking back—the illusion of humanity was all Myra needed. Human feedback, more than just the sound of her voice. Only so much could be communicated effectively without a body. Eye contact, body language—every detail mattered.

  “We made it safely to one of Ymir’s moon bases, on the far side of the planet from the gate. The raiders were on their way and Victor couldn't stand by and do nothing,” Myra said. “But he knew anyone who went out after them might not come back. I was no fighter. I stayed with the rest of our passengers on the moon. Victor left with every other ship he could convince to join him and intercepted the raiding parties before they got to Ymir.”

  “Brave.”

  A sad smile touched Myra’s face. “The pirates weren’t expecting a preemptive attack. At first things went well. But after Victor’s volunteers gained the upper hand some of the pirates made a break for the moon base. If he’d had more ships he might have been able to do it. There were just too many. Without everything he had his little fleet would’ve crumbled. He couldn’t chase the attackers without losing everything.”

  “He had to choose,” Bee said.

  “The only other option was total defeat. Victor managed a slim victory over the main group of raiders, but it took hours to get back to the moon base. With no defenses the base had long since been overrun. We fought to the end with what we had, but it didn’t take long for them to… well, they killed all the men.”

  Bee looked away and swallowed, swiped a tear from her cheek.

  “Victor and the rest came back and retook the base. They found me and a few others barely alive, managed to get us stable in cryo pods. My injuries were fatal, though, given time—they could only delay my death. So that’s what he did. Loaded me up on Wanderlust, kept me frozen for the next ten years. That’s how long it took him to kill Dreadstar. He knew no one would be safe until then.”

  “I didn’t know that was why he did it,” Bee said. “That it was all for you. How did you end up the way you are now?”

  “Before Dreadstar came we were wealthy. Victor had his soldier’s pay and we made money from trade. After he brought down Dreadstar he became extremely influential as well. Everything we had went to making me this way. It was a controversial process, outlawed even back in those desperate times. Victor didn’t care. He’d seen it done before for others so he made it happen again.”

  “I guess that’s how come you’re not on the Record too?”

  “Yep,” Myra said. “Cleaned it up.”

  Bee sat back in her seat looking bewildered. “Huh.”

  “Victor knows you now. He trusts you. That’s why I’m telling you all of this—so you realize how much we all have in common.”

  “Part of the crew,” Bee murmured.

  ***

  “If we’re extremely lucky we’ll hit the right asteroid first,” Captain Anson said, gesturing at the projected map of the Luxar system in front of him and Silver. “Only a little lucky and it’s the second.”

  The tumbling asteroid belt Styx took up the majority of the display, most of the rocks smaller than grains of sand at current scale. Like dust they hung there, swirling slow and gentle through space. Wanderlust sailed along into the belt, their course from Optima plotted as a thick white line. Their first destination glowed bright green along with another of its icy brothers near Optima.

  “And if we aren’t lucky at all?” asked Silver.

  “Then we’ll go after another one. And if we get nothing there, the next. Myra’s got a whole list of candidates for us. I made it clear when I offered you this position how committed I am to this, did I not?”

  Silver grunted his agreement but scowled with displeasure at their plotted route. “Three empty rocks means up to a year out there without resupply. That’s a long float through hostile territory.”

  “None of the three is actually any more likely than any other,” offered Myra’s voice from above. “These are just the three closest to us. There are other potentials scattered across the belt.”

  “How many?” Silver asked. “Total.”

  “Well, there were a lot of possibilities. After I decoded the map I tried the coordinates, but they specify locations in space from the time the map was created. Cross-referencing available Record data with those locations gave me the names of any asteroids that passed near those coordinates during the time it was reported Dreadstar went into the belt. These three stuck out from the rest. They’re all D-types like the ones in the comet cloud at the far edge of the system, whereas the rest of Styx is all carbonaceous or metallic. They don’t belong here.”

  “So you’re guessing,” Bill said, deadpan.

  “Well you have to understand—” Myra began, cut short when Bill wiped a hand down his face and groaned with exasperation. “Yes. More or less.”

  “Captain,” he said, “what exactly do you think our chances are of making it through this without getting into any serious engagements?”

  “Depends where Starhawk went after Surface,” Anson said. “I’m thinking since he got rid of his hostage he’s not interested in dealing with anyone from the Core anymore. He’ll stay clear of Optima. Trashed most of his fleet on Surface so if he’s planning on heading into the belt after us he’s gonna need fresh ships.”

  “Plenty of Family territory he could find new recruits in,” Silver mused, leaning over the projected map. “Donovan, Ocampo, some Lee. Myra, light them up?”

  Dozens of asteroids on the inner fringe of the belt near Optima emitted a colored glow as Myra marked each Family’s territory—Donovan in blue, Ocampo in yellow, and Lee in red.

  “This is just based on recent data,” Myra said. “Everything with a grain of salt. They’ve been shifting around a lot, using temporary outposts for raids.”

  “Fat lot of good the Core Fleet did out there,” Silver said
with a snort. “They’ve started up again already.”

  Captain Anson frowned and peered across the map at his quartermaster. “You really think any of them would be willing to join up with Starhawk after how many of his own men he threw at Surface?”

  “You mean after he made a suicidal attack on the Core and somehow slipped away to tell the tale? Embarrassed and humiliated the most dominant military force in this system?” Silver gave a firm nod. “They’ll flock to him after this, I guarantee it. We’ve just seen the tipping point in the balance of power out here. The Families are losing grasp and Starhawk’s about to pick up the pieces.”

  “That’s trouble for us if we find nothing but ice on these first two rocks. Those two will only be a month’s travel since they’re coming our way, but that’s still plenty of time for Starhawk to gather another fleet and come after us. The third is deeper into the belt, almost halfway, and downstream—we’ll have to turn back the way we came and chase it down. That one could be six months on the float.” The map zoomed out as Anson spoke and Myra lit up the third D-type asteroid in green, plotting bright lines between all three. “If we don’t get lucky with one of the first two, I can pretty well guarantee Starhawk will find us before we get to the third.”

  “Why not go for that one first? Put some distance between us and them?”

  Anson stared at the pair of glowing asteroids. “Two chances are better than one. Can’t just leave them—they’re at perihelion right now. We’d have to wait years for another opportunity.”

  The Quartermaster glared at the map as he stroked his chin. “I don’t like it. We’re stretching. Should have been easier than this.”

  “Not much to like,” Anson admitted. “No turning back now, though. We’re on the run. Myra, gather the troops. Time to bring everyone up to speed.”

  Chapter 31: Fragments

  For the first week of travel the crew kept to their usual routines. Bee and Truly stuck to the basics of moving around in the nullroom. Truly put a lot of emphasis on daily improvement, constantly pushing her to beat her lap times during drills. She even grazed his heel once in a game of tag. All those hours were starting to pay off.