The Star Pirate's Folly

by James Hanlon

  In the time she had off from the nullroom Bee shadowed Ferro on the bridge to learn about the ship’s controls and how pilots navigated the space between planets. She also got the most face time with Captain Anson there. They hadn’t spoken at all about what Bee learned from Myra—he never mentioned it and Bee couldn’t summon the courage to bring it up.

  Even Silver was getting more comfortable with her. He took her on a full tour of Wanderlust and explained how the ship was built, answering any questions she had along the way. The stocky Quartermaster actually seemed to enjoy her curiosity. He took particular pleasure in showing her the ship’s mass-driving gravity cannons, their most effective offensive measure—and the most spectacular by far.

  “The standard no-nonsense shells are wrapped with nullsteel except for the nose,” Silver had said as Myra projected him a model of the slug to illustrate his point. “The gravity cannons need something to pull on to launch them so they’re not covered completely. The wrapping reduces the weight of the payload upon firing, requires less energy. But when it hits it’s all there.”

  Bee had begged him to demonstrate, but out in the belt Wanderlust had nothing to target. They were still thousands of miles from anything.

  A few days later, though, Myra woke Bee in the middle of the night and told her to meet Silver on the bridge. When Bee showed up Ferro was there too, looking cranky.

  “I can’t believe we’re taking a detour for this,” Ferro snapped at Silver. “Costing us time out here.”

  “It would be nice to know we’re fully operational,” he said. “I’d hate to find out we’ve got equipment troubles when we suddenly find the need to defend ourselves. Besides, it’s barely out of our way and it’s always best to fire on a live target.”

  “Whole damn trip’s out of my way,” she said, but relented with her complaints when Bee entered. “You’re just in time to see the show.”

  “What show?” Bee asked.

  “There,” Silver said, pointing to two display windows above the holographic map of Styx. Wanderlust was on one—the feed came from a recon drone alongside the ship. The other window displayed an oblong soot-gray asteroid. “You see that rock? It’s a meteoroid about thirty feet across. We were going to pass within a couple hundred miles of it on the way to our first stop. I asked the Captain to nudge our course a bit, get us into firing range. To test our targeting systems,” he explained.

  Bee hid her smile from the Quartermaster. “Very responsible of you.”

  “Myra, you got a bead on it?” Silver asked.

  “Oh, I’ve got it. Permission to fire.”

  “Fire when ready.” Quartermaster Silver gave the order with a growl, grinning and clenching his metal hand into a fist.

  “Ten seconds. I’ll have to lead it by quite a bit, Bill. You want to make a bet?”

  “Yeah, you’re hot shit, aren’t you? I made that mistake once already.”

  “Come on, I’ve missed before. Can’t win if you don’t play,” Myra taunted. “Five seconds. Ferro?”

  Ferro shook her head. “This ship, these guns, on a steady target—Myra, if you miss I’ll die of shock.”

  “Two, one—firing,” Myra finished.

  The window displaying Wanderlust zoomed in as one cannon revealed itself from beneath a retracting panel on the hull. The cannon flashed green as the shell launched, but Bee didn’t even see it go. She didn’t feel any vibrations or anything. The panel snapped back into place and the ship looked just as it did before firing the shot.

  In the other window, the meteorite continued to hang motionless in space. Bee held her breath as her anticipation grew, the seconds dragging on until she was sure Myra must have missed. Just when she was about to say something snarky a flash of light consumed the screen as the shell tore into its target. Silver crowed and Ferro pumped a fist in the air.

  “Good hit!” the Quartermaster said. He ribbed Bee with an elbow. “Maybe we save the next one for Starhawk, huh?”

  Bee watched fragments of the pulverized meteoroid as they tumbled through a cloud of dust and vapor onscreen. The thing had probably been rolling along for thousands of years and then just like that—ended in an instant. That wasn’t what she promised.

  Bee clenched her jaw. “Too quick for him. He needs to suffer.”

  Ferro went quiet and made herself busy in the pilot’s chair. Silver stepped away from her and straightened, putting his Quartermaster’s face back on. He cleared his throat with a cough.

  “Good hit,” he repeated. “Targeting systems are green. Testing cannon two, fire when ready.”

  “Thanks,” Bee mumbled to Silver as she left. She didn’t want to watch the rest.

  ***

  Victor finished dressing himself in a hurry. “You made me late. I was supposed to be on the bridge already.”

  “Is smashing rocks more exciting than I am?” Myra asked, arching an eyebrow. She rose from the bed, clothing materializing on her as she stood, and followed Victor as he left his quarters.

  “There’s not a thing in the ‘verse excites me more than you, my dear,” Victor said, turning his head to wink at her.

  He started up the short ramp to the bridge and almost plowed into Bee on her way out the door. She turned her shoulders and squeezed by both him and Myra without a word, heading for her room.

  Victor called after her. “Yeah, no need to salute or anything, I’m only Captain here.”

  Bee ignored him and kept her head down as she rounded the corner.

  “I’ll check on her,” Myra said, waving Victor on. “Go ahead, I’ll be on the bridge too.”

  He shrugged and continued on his way. Inside, Silver and Ferro shared an awkward silence together, exchanging glances with each other as the Captain entered.

  “Something wrong with Bee?” Victor asked.

  Silver shrugged. “Thought she might like to see the guns in action. Something wrong with that girl.”

  Victor grunted. “It’s just that kind of keen insight I keep you around for, Bill. So how’d the testing go?”

  “All green,” Silver said.

  “That’s what I like to hear. Myra, howbout those recon drones we sent ahead? We got visual yet?”

  “Spectral imaging from the drones confirms mostly silicates,” Myra said from above. “That rock is definitely not from around here. Another few hours and we’ll be able see if there’s anything interesting on the surface.”

  “Any ships nearby?” Victor asked.

  “Nothing they can see. Only short range scanners, though.”

  “We’ll keep moving in. How long would you guess it’ll take them to do a thorough check of the whole rock? If there’s anything at all it’ll be well hidden.”

  “By the size of it I’d say no more than sixty hours.”

  Victor winced. “Is that all.”

  “If you want thorough. We don’t know where one of these stashes might be, assuming we’re even looking in the right place. My guesses are only as good as the information I was given, so don’t blame me when we end up gallivanting around the belt for no reason just because your map gave me bad locations.”

  “We are going to find something out here,” Victor said. “Slack Dog was right there with them when they divvied up Dreadstar’s stockpile. He saved a copy of that map for all these years to cash in one day. Kept his mouth shut. Kept it to himself. What happened when he finally broke that silence? He got killed for it. That means his map led to something worth going after.”

  “I believe it,” Silver said. “Starhawk wanted it bad.”

  “Still does. He’s out there somewhere.”

  ***

  Bee paced back and forth in her room while Myra sat cross-legged on the bed. The door was open so that Myra could project inside, but Bee was tempted to shut it, annoyed that the AI insisted on keeping up the illusion. She felt the urge to lash out with something nasty but kept her silence instead, leaving the poison stewing inside.

  “If I’m bothering you I can leave
,” Myra said.

  Bee glanced up at the projection and shrugged but continued pacing the room. “It’s not you.”

  “Then what?”

  It took a moment for her to say anything. “Starhawk.”

  “You don’t think we’ll find him? You’ll get your chance if things keep up this way. As long as we’re out here he’ll be after us. And the longer we’re here the more likely it is he’ll find us. Starhawk didn’t have the Families on his side before. Now he could have eyes all over the place looking for us.”

  “Yeah, and if they find us what then?”

  “Either we kill them or they kill us.”

  “That’s just it,” Bee said. “I don’t just want to kill him from way out without him even knowing everything. I promised Mother—”

  “I know. You talk about it in your sleep.”

  “My whole life that’s all I’ve thought of. Every moment I’ve lived since that day has been spent in pursuit of one goal. He can’t just end. You can’t just snuff him out. I need to make him feel what I’ve felt. What my mother felt.”

  “You can’t,” Myra said.

  Bee glared. “You think I can’t.”

  The AI held Bee’s stare. “I’ve watched every second of your progress up to this point. You couldn’t hold a candle to any one of Starhawk’s grubs, let alone the man himself.”

  “What—” Bee sputtered.

  “Not without me, anyway.”

  Confused and angry, all she could manage was to repeat herself. “What?”

  “Come with me,” Myra said as she stood and left the room.

  Bee followed Myra’s projection as it led her through the ship to the nullroom. She burned to ask more questions but held her tongue along the way. Myra stood in front of the door for Bee to open it, and she did so. Truly was waiting for her just inside the entrance to the cavernous area, leaning against the lockers in full suit except for the helmet at his feet.

  “It’s your lucky day,” Truly said with a smile. “Ready for an upgrade?”

  Bee couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m not sure.”

  “Open your locker,” he said. “I just hope it all fits.”

  Chapter 32: Treasure

  Bee opened the locker to see her own reflection gaping back at her from the golden-yellow visor on a fully armored black nullsuit helmet. The rest of the pieces were nestled into recessed areas in the locker. The torso and gloves hung on the back wall under the helmet, the arms and legs took up the side walls, and the boots rested on the locker’s floor. Stripes matching the warm yellow of the visor marked the connecting edges of each piece.

  “Armor,” she whispered.

  “It’s for the unlikely event that we’re boarded by any of the more… murder-oriented folks out here,” Truly said. “Or if we end up taking a walk out on one of these rocks we’re after. First one’s pretty close now.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Bee traced her fingers along the helmet’s slick nullsteel coating.

  The First Officer snorted. “You’re easily impressed. It’s military surplus. Captain keeps a couple of spares in storage for parts. He fixed this one up for you.”

  “It’s mine?”

  “Long as it fits. You just gonna stare at it?”

  Giddy with excitement, Bee removed the straps holding the suit’s armored torso in place. She remembered the order Truly always suited up in and mimicked him by starting there first.

  “Wrong,” Truly said. “How many time have I geared up in front of you? What you missing?”

  Wincing at her mistake, Bee ran through Truly’s usual process. Torso first every time, that was always it. Then legs, boots, arms, gloves, and helmet. Missing what, there were no other pieces. She looked over the locker, touching each as she tallied it off her list.

  “There’s nothing else,” she said finally. “I don’t know.”

  “Check the drawer down there.”

  Bee looked below the locker door in the drawer. Folded up inside was a stack of folded fabric undersuits like the ones Truly wore. She pulled one free and shook it out, the legs flopping to the floor. “I see.”

  “Undersuit. That’s the first layer. Regulates your body temperature, captures moisture, and monitors your health for your armor. Go put that on and you can do the rest.”

  When Bee returned in the skintight black undersuit she felt naked. It ended at her neck just under her jaw and covered every other inch, but it felt unnervingly like wearing nothing. She set about putting on her armor without pause, confident this time that she’d do it right. Twisting the torso at the waist separated it into two parts—the chest and a pelvic piece which she stepped into like underwear. Bee slid the chestpiece over her head and reattached it at the waist, the hard sleek armor settling on her shoulders. She felt it contract for a snug fit.

  “Feels good,” she said, moving on to the legs. Already she was lighter with most of her body mass inside the gravity-nullifying suit. Once she got everything but the helmet in place she gave Truly a twirl for inspection. “Well?”

  “Looks fine,” he said. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

  Bee admired the glossy black armor. Everything felt easier, like the suit moved before she did. She sniffed inside the helmet before putting it on. “Smells a bit, uh… musty, though. Did you guys clean it first?”

  Truly stared at her and shook his head with disdain. “And here I thought you might make a real soldier someday. Just put it on, we need to run some drills. Swapping to a powered suit will take some getting used to. It’s designed to reduce fatigue and enhance strength. You move, it moves.”

  After another tentative whiff, Bee lowered the helmet onto her head. It didn’t smell too bad, just old and unused. She hoped everything still worked. When she sealed the helmet in place, the projection display lit up with data.

  “Initializing,” Myra’s voice said in her ear.

  Bee looked around for the AI. She’d been so focused on the suit she didn’t notice the hardlight projection of Myra’s body had vanished. “Myra?”

  “Internal diagnostics complete,” Myra said. She sounded canned, robotic. “Powered armor fully operational.” Then her voice shifted back to normal and she said, “Sorry, I didn’t tell you there’s a clone of me in there with you.”

  “A clone?”

  “A stripped down copy of myself that can only perform certain functions. It’s not all of me, but it can help you aim a gun, correct your trajectory, identify targets—a thousand other things. You’re like a student pilot and I’m your instructor.”

  “Wait, so you can control me in this thing?” The armor felt a lot less safe knowing Myra could just hijack it if she wanted. Less like a protective shell and more like a full-body collar, with the shadow of an unstable artificial intelligence on the other end of the leash. “Not sure I’m okay with that.”

  Truly said, “Myra’s clone is in there to make things easier for you, guide your movements. You’re stronger in a powered suit.”

  “Come on Truly, I don’t need training wheels.”

  “Yes you do. We prepped you in that fabric suit for a reason. A powered suit is as much a weapon as it is armor. Treat it with respect. Besides, she runs all our suits. There are some things she can do that we just can’t.”

  “Alright, I got you,” Bee said unhappily. She cleared the projection display so she could see straight. All the biometrics and startup processes on display were making her dizzy. “So I’m a soldier now, huh?”

  “Not even close,” Truly said. “But we’ve got nothing but time out here on the float. Could be a year or more before we find our stash. Might be we could make something useful out of you. Let’s get moving, give me fifteen wall-to-walls lengthwise.”

  After unlocking her boot nodes with a twitch of her heels, Bee pushed off from the floor and pulled herself over to the wall, reorienting to stand above the nullroom door. Everything felt solid—a bit less flexibility than her old suit but surprisingly unrestrictive compared to what she exp
ected. She squatted in place on the wall, preparing her muscles for the jump, and asked, “You really think we’ll find anything?”

  A light push sent her sailing headfirst to the opposite wall. Economy of motion, Truly always said, every movement precise. The armor was much bulkier than her fabric suit, but it didn’t seem to be holding her back at all.

  “No one can say for sure. Not even Myra knows what we’ll really find out there, but the Captain’s been dead set on this for years now. If he’s convinced I’m convinced.”

  Approaching the wall, Bee rolled forward into a somersault and pulsed the nodes on her boots as she extended her legs to land. She bent at the knees when she touched down, sticking for just a moment, and sprang back toward the other end of the room again. “Just asking ‘cause if we do find something… I get a cut, right?”

  Truly laughed. “That’s between you and the Captain—and Dreadstar too, I guess. Good form, by the way. Looking natural.”

  Bee stuck her second landing square and shoved off again.

  ***

  Still flush with adrenalinee after a two-hour set and a shower, Bee was on her way back to the nullroom when Myra called over the speakers for a crew meeting on the bridge. She hurried there and came in behind Silver. Captain Anson, Ferro, and Truly huddled around a cluster of projected windows as they listened to Myra’s voice. Her body was absent.

  “The drones found something just below the surface,” Myra said. “One is landing while the other observes.”

  “What have we got?” Captain Anson asked.

  “Best I can tell you is it’s a metallic structure, most likely man-made,” Myra said. “Whatever it is doesn’t match the rest of the asteroid. It didn’t show up on the long-range scanners, but up close it’s harder to hide.”

  “Some kind of outpost?” Silver ventured.

  “We’ll have to wait on our drones and see.”