The StarMaster's Son
Page 8
A few feet from the door, she said, "Call me when the other one wakes up."
She parsed the data node as she strode through the corridor.
That's when she learned that the StarMaster was dead.
The news didn't emotionally compromise her, but the information lingered at the forefront of her mind. A wave of paranoia swept through her. She'd never cared about the StarMaster either way, but this was going to have some serious ramifications.
Either Oberon or Megas would take the reins of the universe. Amazing to think they'd only been children when she was attacked by that rogue ship. Well, if the StarMaster could die, so could her target, whatever or whoever it was.
Zone 54y^$tb(&!0i was technically a city, but the definition of city varied widely across the universe. She'd seen living spheres that were nothing more than a bunch of platforms floating in the haze of a gas planet.
As she'd suspected, this living sphere was not like a conventional Old Terra city. One look out the base's observation window revealed dozens and dozens of structures hovering a hundred feet over a field of metal that stretched as far as she could see like a giant conveyor belt. Structural frames that resembled massive crystallite stones hurtled about, their surfaces radiant beacons in a cluster of them.
Gravity tugs channeled masses of sapients of various species through the air. Floating platforms shifted and merged with other platforms. Mile-high trees framed the living sphere on each side. A slug-like creature grew smaller and smaller in one of the trees. The living sphere wasn't just floating but gliding along the metallic field.
Kai burst into laughter. She remembered that the StarMaster had freed up certain materials for scientific study not long ago as if he'd stopped caring. Maybe he knew he was going to die. She found it funny that his impending death might've been the thing that freed her from stasis.
A large eyeball tucked in a triangular white, spiky shell drifted by the observation window. The eyeball locked on Kai and began growing. Veins riddled the white of the expanded eyeball every second even as the creature flew away. That's freaky.
"I guess you could say it had its eye on you," a passing staff member covered in green scales quipped. Kai didn't bother dignifying that with a response.
According to the data node, over the decades, Burkos had attracted a lot of outsiders wishing to exploit a relatively untouched planet. The result was that many Union Omega technologies were adopted in a short span of time. And, of course, the planet became inundated with different species and the customs they brought, including laws.
Thus endless loops of legal anarchy controlled Zone 54y^$tb(&!0i and many others, resulting in a sort of backwater place of criminal activities that were technically within the law.
It was the type of living sphere that would've been perfect for an inquisitor. And absolutely hellish for someone with no godweb like her.
Euphrates would've enjoyed the chaotic miasma of laws. But he would've hated to see what had become of the Hellion network.
As bad as things looked, she wouldn't let his death be in vain.
What would this medical volunteer group give them when she decided to leave? That was the major question on her mind. She needed to get to Zone 2080. But without a godweb or combat frame, her chances of eliminating her target would be slim.
She might be able to score a bubbleweb or three. That would be a start.
"A lovely little corner of the universe, huh?" Dr. Troit grunted, coming up beside her. "No Coriolis effect from the rotation, of course. And if you close your eyes and pretend real hard, you can almost convince yourself it's a solution to tier inequality."
"I don't know if I could live in a city where I was poor one lunar cycle and rich the next."
The doctor shrugged. "This planet's shifting cities are decent attempts at making Astro Phoenix's utopian ideas a reality. The High Council just couldn't manage all the different species."
Apparently, most of Burkos's living spheres were constantly in motion along anti-gravity belts. They alternated between cruising as their own isolated, fragmented cities and connected to hundreds of other city fragments that would remain only within a single zone.
"So why are you here?" Kai asked in challenge.
"Fortunately, being a doctor is far easier than in the past. Now, a medical bot could probably handle this entire wing. But there's too much karma in doing this in person."
"Yeah. I meant here on Burkos..."
He shrugged. "My pathetic attempt at a joke. I don't know. I guess I needed to feel like I was doing something. The Inner Rims are busy, but...you know how many patients I got back in my old station every sol? At least a couple hundred. You know how many I get here? A few dozen on a real busy work cycle."
"You were dealing with statistics before. Now you're dealing with stories."
"That's a nice way to put it. Truth is I like helping less advanced species up close and personal. Specifically, New Terrans."
"Less advanced species? What does that make you?"
"Andromedan. I love your species' way of life so much. I've been a human for three centuries now and not a sol goes by that I regret it." He adjusted one of his medical gloves. "Why did our mutual friend from the science station ask me to look after you?"
She angled her head at him in confusion. He must've meant the uplinker who'd saved her. Sestrel.
"You didn't think we just happened to be so close to your frames out there? Our mutual friend told me that I might find a trio of sapients in trouble. I owed him a favor, so I went looking. There you were. As far as ways to almost get killed go, you got a good deal."
"How so?"
"You read about the legal anarchy here. You would've been ripe targets for core traffickers. Legally done by local laws, too."
She put her hands on her hips. "Your data node didn't say anything about how you dismiss patients."
"I decided that in your case it wouldn't be relevant information."
"Why not?"
"Our mutual friend asked me to keep you safe. I can't discharge you. It would be putting you in danger." Which meant he likely knew that the Starbleeders were chasing her.
"You can't keep me here."
"Oh, yes I can. Medical code Orion-7. Your nexus has been quarantined. It's within my judgment to restrict you to a medical facility until you're no longer a threat."
"What about the two I came with?"
"I suppose I can't hold them. But do me a favor and don't try to break out like the Clorondite. The facility’s godweb will prevent you anyway."
His hand felt heavy on her shoulder. On instinct, she almost twisted around to grab it and snap his wrist. But part of having great reflexes was not just reacting but knowing when not to react. So she gave him an understanding nod even though she did want to snap his wrist.
"I'll be back in an hour. Another doctor is in the medical bay. She'll attend to your companions."
Companions. The word sounded almost silly. Raksamat and Sarvill weren't that. One was her captive, the other a mission asset.
Yet the word hung in her mind as she explored the base.
The other patients and medical staff, mostly New Terrans, either refused to meet her gaze or gave her uneasy looks. They didn't know who she was. They only knew that she was quarantined—at least her nexus. She couldn't spread her neural virus physically, but if she somehow messaged them or sent them a data node, they could contract it.
She shouldn't have cared, but without the inquisitor mods regulating her mood and emotions, she couldn't help the sense of rejection it brought. As the Hellion network's heiress, she was used to attention and adulation. Not getting shunned. Hell, even Raksamat had tried to avoid her, hadn't he? That's why he acted crazy earlier.
Worse than that was being trapped here. She wrestled with the idea of revealing herself to Dr. Troit. That might convince him she was too much of a liability to keep around.
She wandered around for a few minutes then reclined against the wall. One thi
ng she could say about this place was the halls were comfortably wide. Her position reduced her to the significance of bacteria.
An attractive man in a blue carbon fiber coat and pants pulled up beside her.
He was fuckable, there was no question. The late StarMaster had banned fabricated sex within sims and heavily taxed the use of sex bots, but the oldest profession in the New Terran worlds was still valid. So she could've earned some karma bits from that. Unfortunately, she doubted he would fuck a robot, considering her current body lacked the proper holes.
"Sucks being stuck here, huh?"
"Are you supposed to be telepathic?"
"No. I just know how you feel. My other frame, he gets to have all the fun."
"Why's that?"
Dr. Lupin laughed. "He's the one who gets to do a Void run."
Beyond Burkos wasn't much more of the cosmos. And beyond that was the Void. Empty space. He noticed her confused expression and sent her a data node.
She parsed it and understood. Sapient species used Burkos as a launch point to attempt ship runs as far into the abyss of the Void as possible. None had returned thus far. But some were still sending back signals via ansible.
"Got a daredevil streak in you, huh?" she said.
"And enough karma bits to afford sending off a second living frame."
"Yeah, you don't strike me as one to volunteer your medical mods."
"Then you've got at least a half-decent judge of character. And, if I may, you don't strike me as one who wants to stay cooped up in this base."
He must've overheard her conversation with Troit. Either up close or from afar. As a first order member of his network, he likely had access to the godweb's surveillance. Which meant he also had access to who was allowed to leave.
A grin stretched across his face. "My colleague is a stiff. He's always been overprotective on account of seeing New Terrans as a younger species. Especially now with the StarMaster's dying. You're not one for protecting, though." She didn't like his cocky attitude.
Gently, she ran her hand down his crotch and cupped his sack. "You like that?" she whispered, moving her hand in a massaging motion.
"We should probably take this somewhere private."
Without warning, she squeezed. His knees buckled before utility fog in the godweb wrenched her hand away and restrained her.
She couldn't help but smile. Men were dumb. Even now, they couldn't handle living without balls. And most didn't even bother paying the extra to make them impervious to physical pain. She appreciated the starkeeper who decided male frames would, by default, still feel extra sensitivity in that region.
"What the fuck was that for?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Nothing personal, but you know who I am, don't you?"
Rubbing his crotch, the doctor got to his feet. "I've heard things about a certain quarantined patient."
"Then you know that if you help me get out of this place with some cash, I'll gladly repay you. It's an easy investment opportunity."
"Why do you think I'm here?"
Ten minutes later, Kai had several hundred karma bits associated with her ID and Sarvill was medically cleared. He was hanging around the medical bay and looked happy—as happy as a monstrous Zendant could look—to see her. "What's our next objective, leader?" he asked.
"Just follow me," she said. The next objective was actually to convince Raksamat to get off his ass.
Standing over him, he refused to meet her gaze. "Hey," she growled quietly. Not that whispering would escape the audio detection capabilities of the structure's godweb. "Time to go."
"Why?"
"Nice way to ignore unforeseen circumstances," she said. "But if you truly believe it's my fault then don't you want to watch me screw up more?"
Deep down, she knew that trusting in Dr. Lupin was a disregard of common sense. His method carried plenty of risks. But they'd be in Zone 2080 with some money and bubblewebs. The alternative was wasting away here for who the hell knew how long. Sestrel had told her the Starbleeders would assimilate her network within six lunar cycles. Staying here was not an option.
Dr. Lupin escorted them to a private capsule and gestured for them to enter before him. "I'm going to open a warp-gate for you. My colleague will be angry, but I'll deal with him."
A small black orb materialized, serving as the warp-gate. Kai offered him a gracious nod. "Remember, if this works, I'll make sure you're rewarded. Conversely, if this is a trick, well, you'll get to experience an inquisitor's skills firsthand."
"Good luck."
It turned out he was going to experience her skills firsthand.
For a second everything was dark. Then her frame's night-vision kicked in.
A yellow haze dominated air so thick she swore she could feel her joints rusting. According to her nexus, they were not in Zone 2080. Just a lower tier sector of Zone 54y^$tb(&!0i.
She imagined Dr. Lupin laughing his ass off back in the medical base.
Chapter 10
FELIK
Felik knew this was a sim, not reality. It had to be. Still, a sick feeling of failure and guilt cut through him.
He stood on the white sand and gravel of the Ganbare's command sphere's zen garden surface, a holodisplay showing his ship fully intact once more. A dozen critters were tossing pink balls to each other in a cargo hold. The variations of dogs, foxes, tanukis, frogs, bunnies, and cats had big circular eyes, tiny grins, and all their limbs ended in soft curves. A few laughed, sounding like children, and their eyes became downward crescent lines. Cuter than anything had a right to be.
Felik had let them die once. He wouldn't this time.
Just get the lil' critters to a safe space. That seemed an easy enough mission.
Clearing his throat, he reviewed his situation: The Ganbare lacked reactor cells, meaning no godweb. Some jerks had damaged the Alcubierre drive, so he could only travel FTL for a brief period, and he couldn't warp. He couldn't stress the engines. Likewise, their fuel cells were running low and there were no stellar engines close enough to provide refills. To make matters worse, the Ganbare's sensors and comms were offline from enemy damage as well. He was effectively flying blind to most threats. And plenty existed in this sim.
"Captain, there are a hundred planets we can reach in one hour. Each has an equal chance of sustaining life. As well as an equal chance of taking it."
He gave his XO, a bald-shaven monk in a humble beige robe, a long look.
"There are also—"
"Also, several hundred space stations and colonies that might be open to refugees."
The XO had said the exact same thing in his first simulation attempt.
"If you know more than me, perhaps I'm unneeded."
"Um, no. Sorry. I didn't mean any offense," Felik said. He hadn't expected his XO to actually get offended.
With no data on the existing celestial bodies, he'd have to rely largely on gut instinct and an internal log on his nexus with data from his previous attempt at taking the Kawaii to safety. And fast. Every second he wasted, the Kawaii's enemy, the Kawai, closed in.
He liked to gamble, but given the practically infinite number of possibilities, he figured a more organized approach to this would pay off. In his nexus was a list of the potential celestial bodies. Last time, going for the first one took them through a patch of radiation. Goodbye to the passengers.
"Captain, may I suggest you try the first planet on your list. You seem to have knowledge of a radiation cloud, but we could try an alternate route."
"Let's do it."
A few seconds later, the Ganbare began following a projected flight path.
Ten minutes passed without incident. Previously, the radiation had killed them within five minutes. Most likely they were past that threat then.
Without warning, a status alert popped up in his feed.
"What now?"
"I think we've hit a debris field. If we keep go—"
the Guardian Templar messaged.
The sim restarted.
"Captain, there are a hundred planets we can reach in one hour. Each has an equal chance of sustaining life. As well as an equal chance of taking it. There are also several hundred space stations and colonies that might be open to refugees."
"Understood," Felik said, sending his list to his XO.
"Based on what you've shown, if you're intent on reaching the first planet, we will need to try another route. We'll lose a lot of energy, but we should reach the planet without a problem."
"Should?"
"Assuming no unforeseen threats."
"Right. Go ahead then."
The Ganbare took the corresponding path. There was no radiation, no space debris. Fifteen minutes into the trip, a rogue psionic wave hit them and corrupted the ship's core, killing his XO.
Felik shook his head to himself. Before he truly became an Envoy, he had to undergo this special ritual. He'd expected it to be a song and dance with Templar wearing beads and fancy outfits. Not a trial sim like this.
He could see that he'd hit a nerve and ran through the trivial sim formalities once more. He attempted the second planet on the list. Within ten minutes something destroyed their ship instantly. There was no explanation. It might've been an enemy ship, a random black hole. Anything. He tried for the second planet again using a different route. Again the Ganbare suffered immediate destruction with no clues as to why.