by Chris Fox
I shrugged. “Same shit, different day.”
“No amount of brooding on it is going to change what happened to you, bud. It’s been, what, twenty years? You gotta let this go.”
“Yeah, I know.” I looked out across the bar at all the people, wondering how easy their lives must be without all of this. What I wouldn’t give to go back to my stupid, eighteen-year-old self and punch him in the face for making this decision. “I’m gonna head home, okay, Jax?”
“You sure, man? You don’t want another?”
“Don’t have the money for it,” I said, snorting. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. See you.”
I tabbed out at the bar and walked out, hesitating just as the door shut.
The streets were a bad place to be these days, especially at this time of night. The world had gone to hell, and the people along with it. The ground was practically black, and nothing grew in it anymore.
The only food left on this planet was grown in labs, and that shit was more and more expensive every damn day. The people were starving, and the ones with any strength left were stealing from each other.
Just a cursory look down the street showed five huddled masses along the building opposite the bar.
Keeping an eye on them as I walked, I made my way to the lot behind the bar and climbed into my hover car.
I wasn’t even close to well off. I was just the property of the government, which meant they had to make sure I stayed alive. Walking the streets these days? It was a recipe for death, although probably not for me.
Hard to kill a guy with armor-quality scales on his body, but they didn’t know about that, now did they?
Besides, it wasn’t even a nice hover car. It was stable enough to get the job done, but it was a beater. The interior was peeling off, and most of the features didn’t work.
But the auto pilot did. I punched in my address and leaned back as the car took off.
Handy thing, auto pilot. It meant you could drink as much as you wanted and not have to worry about having a DD. Not that there was really enough alcohol these days to get you drunk, but a few years ago, it was pretty nifty.
Now, I just used it because I was tired and wanted a minute to think.
I didn’t really get that, though, because a few blocks later, I noticed someone was following me.
I leaned forward in my seat to get a better look at the mirror, eyes narrowed.
Trick of my paranoid imagination, or real?
Three lights later, and yeah, I definitely had a tail.
I kept an eye on it the rest of the way home; if someone was following me, I wanted to know why. Losing them wouldn’t get me any answers.
When the car settled down on the pad outside my government-issued apartment, I disengaged the safety from my plasma gun and climbed out of the vehicle.
A much nicer hover car slowly descended in front of me.
9
I groaned and put my gun back in its holster as soon as the senator stepped out of the vehicle.
Senator Calhoun was a short man with cropped blond hair and white skin, and a dirty motherfucker, but I couldn’t say that to his face. He was also the guy who gave me my orders, and if he didn’t like me, then I’d probably be sent to some desert planet to die in service to this great fucking nation.
The good ol’ U.S. of A.
Senator Calhoun was also the Earth Rep for the UPC—the United Planetary Council—and he had a lot on his plate, so I didn’t know what he was doing showing up at my personal address in the middle of the night.
It was very unusual for someone like him, and I had a bad feeling in my gut about it.
“Norton, good to see you,” Calhoun said, stepping forward and offering his hand.
I took it, giving it a firm shake before dropping my hand back to my side. “And you, Senator. What brings you out here so late?”
I didn’t live in the worst part of town, but nowhere near a good place for a senator to be in the middle of the night.
“Why don’t we step inside?” He flashed me a blinding smile.
It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.
With a grim smile, I nodded and stepped to the door. I put my hand on the recognition plate, and the door slid open. Allowing the senator and his team to enter first, I then followed them inside.
Calhoun made himself right at home in my apartment, taking a seat on the couch.
I lifted my eyebrows, but otherwise said nothing. That was probably the dirtiest place he’d ever sat in his life. I wasn’t the best housekeeper. The kitchen was piled with dirty plates, the place really needed a good sweeping, and I was pretty sure cobwebs were in the nooks and crannies.
I took a seat in the chair opposite him, leaned forward, and put my forearms on my knees, waiting for him to get on with it.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he sighed.
“Well, straight to the point, then? It’s always that way with you. I don’t know why I’d thought you’d have time for pleasantries.”
I said nothing in response, but that was about what he was expecting. The senator liked the sound of his own voice.
“I’ve got a new assignment for you,” he said, beaming at me.
I stiffened. Leave wasn’t exactly a thing I got as a Raider. I was always on call, but it had been implied I would have more downtime between assignments this go around. That was the life, though. The government always lied to you.
I was resigned to it.
“What’s the job?”
His smile got even bigger, if that was possible. “I wouldn’t normally go into detail on this with you, but I have to say, I am very excited. You and your team are going to protect a group of scientists on a terraforming mission. You will ensure their safe passage to the planet, as well as their stay on the planet.”
“A terraforming mission?” I couldn’t help but ask, though I knew better.
To my surprise, though, he didn’t reprimand me.
“Yes, yes, a terraforming mission! A suitable planet has at last been found, and the UPC has given us permission to claim it. It’s absolutely barren, no signs of life anywhere, and no history of life on the planet either. But our scientists are certain they can make it hospitable. It’s perfect. This is Earth’s last hope for survival, Norton. Your part is crucial in this.”
Pretty words, but my heart sank.
If this planet was as barren and lifeless as he described, then it was obviously none of the planets the public were aware of. Which meant that it was farther away than we had ever gone.
I was going to be away for a long time.
My family might die before I came home.
Despair threatened to claim me, but I pushed those feelings aside and forced a faux smile to my lips. “That’s fantastic, Senator.”
“It is, it is! Here, I’ve got a packet for you to go over with your team, as well as your orders to report tomorrow. This is going to mean remarkable things for the world, Norton. It’s your job to make sure nothing gets in the way of our success.”
Without waiting for a response, he put the packet on the table and stood up, walking to the door. He paused.
“And, Norton? This is going to mean a lot for you, too. The government will be very grateful for a successful mission.”
With that, he was gone.
It was a big job, and he was dangling freedom in front of my face.
I reached for the packet before me, wanting to feel the excitement I knew I should. Instead, the crippling despair came back full force, drowning me in it.
This just felt like one giant mistake.
Epilogue
The story of Xiva and Zvarr is known to none, for no one survived the battle to tell the tale. The binding Xiva performed to tie her brother’s life to hers allowed her to control what happened to him, but not what he was able to do. His power was still his own, just as hers was. Just as he could not stop her from tunneling to the core of Eyrus, she could not
stop him from his last act of vengeance. As she flung herself to the core of the planet, so was Zvarr dragged through the layers of Eyrus.
But he had one last moment to act before she sealed them. And with his last breath, he let loose the spell that unleashed destruction across the planet, killing everything in its path. It was not just the Stryx that died that day, but all the nations of Eyrus. And the once-beautiful planet, full of vibrantly living plants and animals, decayed under the force of his spell, leaving a barren desert planet in its place. And that pain, of her planet and her people dying, was the last thing Xiva knew before the sealing took her.
Now, five millennia later, it was the humans’ turn to feel the pain of their planet rotting from the inside out. In desperation, they turned to the only planet the United Planetary Council had found that was not inhabited, to terraform it and save what little of the human race was left. But they knew not this desert planet’s secrets…for who could tell the story when none survived?
Find out what happens when Kaidan and his crew arrive on 71 Charos b—or Eyrus, as its natives called it. What secrets will be unleashed, and can they can survive them?
Find out…in book one of the Space Mage series, Provoked.
If you’d like to read more by Izzy Shows, visit her website at www.izzyshows.com or sign up for her mailing list.
Streamsurfers
Alec Hutson
Kerin set his elbows on the worn wood of the ancient balustrade and leaned out over the emptiness. Below him, Drifter’s massive flipper churned the rippling dark, etched stark against the Stream through which they were surging. Silver motes sparked into existence and then vanished with each great stroke, evidence of the tremendous energy the starbeast was expending as he strained against the Stream’s contrary flow.
Everything all right? Kerin thought.
Of course.
He felt the annoyance lacing this reply. Drifter never liked being doubted.
It just seems like you’re laboring a bit more than usual.
A tremendous snort reverberated in Kerin’s mind. Laboring? The thought that a hatchling of the Great Turtle would ever struggle in the Streams is so ridiculous I want to shake with laughter right now. But I won’t, considering where you’ve so foolishly and precariously perched yourself. Your grandfather’s heart would have burst if he had seen you dangling yourself out over such a turbulent Stream.
So you admit the Stream is a bit choppy?
Quiet, manling.
Kerin pushed down the humor he felt bubbling up. He didn’t want to antagonize Drifter – the starbeast was already stewing about having to leave Jegriddsl without having a chance to bathe in the planet’s famed sulfite sea.
“Kerin!”
He turned from the seething void just as Nala came into view clambering across one of the wooden walkways bolted onto the side of Drifter’s mottled shell. The planks swayed beneath her, but she moved with her usual confident grace, not even bothering to hold onto the guide ropes. Just like the starbeast, she appeared agitated: her ears were erect, and her tail lashed the air behind her like a hooded serpent preparing to strike.
“Ho, Nala,” he called out, pushing himself away from the edge as she padded up to him. “Come to enjoy the view?”
The kyrathi mage spared a disinterested glance at the rushing Stream. “You know I don’t see the same things as you do. It’s just blackness to me.”
That was true. It was only through the bond he shared with Drifter that he could experience the terrible beauty of the Streams. Even the feline eyes of the kyrathi couldn’t pierce the darkness through which they were moving.
“Then why leave the nest? It’ll be a fair while before we surface.”
Nala gestured sharply with a paw at the ramshackle structure clinging to the front edge of Drifter’s shell.
“I wanted to talk to you about our two passengers.”
Ah. He’d been expecting this conversation. Kerin felt Drifter’s attention, which had been lurking at the edge of his mind, suddenly sharpen.
“What about them?”
Nala licked a paw and smoothed down her whiskers, something she did unconsciously when she was troubled. “I don’t trust them.”
“Even the girl?”
“Especially the girl.”
“Come now, she’s a child.”
“Exactly. What child agrees to join an expedition like this? A gobber and a couple of outcasts and this broken-down starbeast” – Kerin felt a surge of indignation from where Drifter’s consciousness touched his own – “chasing fairy tales into the dusty corners of the universe.”
“You said yourself that the gobber’s chart looks real.”
“And it does! But what are the chances that an unplundered treehold is floating around out here? Almost certainly we’ll get to the end of this Stream and find the hold cracked open and all the treasure scooped out.”
Kerin shrugged. “Then that will be that. The gobber is still paying passage for himself and the girl, no matter what we find.”
“But why is she with him? You saw the robes she’s wearing. She’s one of those fanatics who worship the Searing Light. We’re well off the trodden paths out here. If things go sour – which they very well might, you know that – she won’t last an eyeblink.”
“Not our business.”
“But it is!” Nala put a paw on his arm, and he felt her claws flex, though of course she didn’t break his skin. “Look, I know your grandfather’s code is very important to you. And that one of its core tenets is to respect the privacy of paying passengers. Kerin, times have changed. You’re not a member of the Starfarer’s Guild anymore. If that gobber double-crosses us out here there won’t be a Guild response, and if he knows that then he just might try something. You know how gobbers are.”
He did. They were infamous throughout this branch of the stellar tributary as being one of the more cunning and greedy of the Younger Races.
Kerin sighed. “All right. I’ll come up with you and together we’ll get some answers about what’s going on.”
He could feel Drifter’s disappointment as he said this, but he ignored the starbeast. Nala was right: his grandfather was dead, and the Guild had cast them out. They weren’t beholden to the code anymore. They were alone and adrift in a cold and uncaring universe, and he needed to make smart decisions for all of them.
He hoped his grandfather’s ghost wasn’t watching him right now.
Protect your passengers, protect their privacy, and protect the integrity of the Starfarer’s Guild. The three sacrosanct rules that had governed his grandfather’s life, and the lives of all the eldest male members of his family going back for nearly three centuries, ever since his ancestor had first bonded with a wandering starbeast fresh-hatched from one of the Great Turtle’s clutches.
His grandfather never would have considered interrogating paying passengers – unless they threatened the reputation of the Guild in some way, and thus came into conflict with the third rule. Their business was their own. But he and Nala and Drifter were independent streamsurfers now. They couldn’t count on the Guild’s protection anymore . . . so they needed to be very, very careful.
Kerin followed Nala into the nest, the largest of the half dozen structures clinging to Drifter’s shell. The gobber and the girl were in the saloon sitting on opposite ends of a ratty velvet couch – the girl had her head down, her long pale hair obscuring her face, while the gobber was hunched over a squat little table that was usually reserved for games of bone knuckles or t’skelcha, intent on a run of cards he had laid out. The girl glanced up as Nala and Kerin entered, then seemed to recede deeper into her dirty white robes. The gobber, on the other hand, paid them no mind, continuing to mutter to himself as he snapped more cards down onto the table.
Kerin cleared his throat noisily, and with a frown the gobber paused in his game and sat back.
“Yes? The man wants what?”
The gobber’s Standard was heavily accented, almost unintel
ligible. He sounded like a drunkard trying to speak a second language while gargling water.
Kerin folded his arms across his chest, forcing himself to meet the beady black eyes of the gnarled creature. “We want to know a few things.”
The gobber picked at one of the many bright red lesions pockmarking his jowls. “Privacy protection, Guild rule. Right of the passenger invoked.”
“I’m not a member of the Guild anymore.”
If this surprised the gobber, his face didn’t show it. A tingling unease spread up Kerin’s spine. If the gobber knew he wasn’t with the Guild, then he also knew there wouldn’t have been an expedition plan filed anywhere, and that no one would come looking for them if they disappeared . . .
“I heard, I heard,” said the gobber. “But sometimes old habits die hard. Thought you might still be clinging to the old ways.”
“We’re not,” Nala said, her tail dancing. “And we want to know what’s going to be waiting for us at the end of this Stream.”
The gobber smiled, showing rows of serrated teeth. “Told you the truth. An Alvaren treehold.”
“But why bring her?” Nala continued, nodding toward the motionless girl.
“She’s the key.”
Nala’s large amber eyes blinked in confusion. “The key?”
“Aye. The way to get inside where all the goodies are stashed. You want a cut, maybe we could work something out.”
“How is that possible? She looks like she’d have trouble figuring out a doorknob.”
The girl’s head jerked up slightly at Kerin’s words. Well, she wasn’t simple, at least.
The gobber chortled. “Couldn’t figure out a doorknob. Like that, like that. Eh, the treehold’s bloodsealed for Alvarens only.”
“The girl’s clearly not one of them,” Kerin said in exasperation.
The Alvarens were the most recent of the Elder Races to Transcend, merging their minds with whatever existed beyond the fringes of this reality. They had called it “going to the shoals beyond the stars”. A poetic name for what was essentially mass suicide. His grandfather had talked of meeting an Alvaren once as a young man, in the years before their departure. He’d described them as tall and willowy, with huge golden eyes that never blinked and cascades of shimmering silver hair. Beautiful and austere, like a dying star.
