Ace of Thralls (Freelance Courier Book 3)

by Lawrence M. Schoen

  After several days her ship’s systems had successfully tracked down each metaphorical needle in turn. Aushthack had spent the time in seclusion in the guest cabin that Gel had provided. How he spent his time there was not her concern. For her own part, she’d used much of her waking hours studying the two lists of Clarkeson portals, backing up and encrypting the data to several different locations within Tiggly’s systems. She knew from past experience with the handful of portals she’d received from Randolv Greyce that opened on to systems with mausoleum worlds that she could plot connections from point A to point B in the galaxy, potentially cutting down the number of portals needed to get from one place to another. In very practical terms it meant she could outperform her competition in courier circles. Now, with access to all one hundred portals, the possibilities expanded before her eyes. It was surely an unfair advantage, but it only did so much. Plotting new routes using the Clarkeson portals usually required her to flit from gas giant to gas giant, several times, much as Tiggly was doing now, and realistically, wasn’t all that different than emerging from one portal in a star system and having to cross to another, the main difference being one of scale. Having to circumnavigate the atmosphere of a gas giant to find the next portal within it was still a shorter trip than the distance between portals in the same star system.

  While Tiggly continued her search hex by hex to get them to their current goal, Gel tinkered with a mapping program that took into account the entrances and exits of one hundred Clarkeson portals, overlaying it on the existing network of commercial portals. Plotting enhanced routes throughout the galaxy, Tiggly was no slouch when it came to data processing, and even with Gel limiting combinations to no more than ten portals to a route, the sheer number of combinations would take her ship some time to work through it all. That was fine. Gel felt no rush; she had no other jobs lined up, nor any idea how long the current one would take. The data she wanted would be there when she needed it.

  They emerged at last from the sixth stage of their route through the Clarkeson’s even more secret network into yet another — surprise, surprise — gas giant atmosphere. Gel had sent a call to Aushthack before entering the portal, summoning him to the bridge, and he was on hand to witness the change on the display from thick greenish murk to a slightly more brownish, less oily murk of their destination.

  “We’re here. Now what?”

  “The people of Bwill long ago named this star Danita. When it was a living system It held six planets. The gas giant, Danita-V, still remains, as does the star’s closest planet — which was never more than a barren, heat-blasted rock — but the other four worlds, three closer in and one beyond the gas giant’s orbit, have all been destroyed.”

  “Destroyed how?”

  The Tosh shrugged. “Two had their atmosphere stripped away after the Bwillers induced the star to eject waves of stellar matter. The other planets were spared that blast, but the inhabitants poisoned the oceans of the outermost world, killing all undersea life there and toppling the balance of oxygen conversion while at the same time raising the planet’s mean temperature until it could no longer support life.”

  “You skipped a planet.”

  “I did, the fourth planet. There the Bwillers somehow managed to shatter its very core, triggering a cataclysmic chain of concussive events that caused it to break apart. The pieces slowly dispersed to form the asteroid ring which, for a time, the Cliveden mined.”

  “And the gas giant we’re in?”

  “It possesses some seventeen moons, fourteen of which are either too small to support atmosphere and are just pitted rocks dutifully circling the gas giant, or frozen orbs — at least one of which has below ground oceans but atmospheres that are not agreeable with oxygen needing races.”

  “That leaves three.”

  “These three all have adequate oxygen in their atmospheres and sufficient gravity to retain liquid water on their surfaces. On one the pressure is too great for unassisted humanoid life. The second is too sparse.”

  “And what, the third is the baby bear?”

  Aushthack furrowed his brow in confusion, an expression made all the stranger by the colorful clown-like markings on his face. “I don’t understand.”

  Gel waved it away. “A cultural reference. Never mind. The third one is just right though?”

  “It is. I have named it Dawn. It contains a single large continent, several island chains, and a range of climates all within comfortable levels.”

  “Sounds like a great place. Why didn’t the folks from Bwill destroy it on their way out of the system?”

  “My guess is that when they left, it wasn’t so inviting. The gas giant contains a ring of debris, remnants of another moon that I believe was once a habitable world.”

  “Which the Bwillers did take the time to shatter on their way out?”

  Aushthack nodded. “I believe so. I suspect, though I cannot prove, the resulting ring influenced the orbit of our target moon, causing it to, over time, become more appealing. It still receives periodic showers of meteorites that are pieces of the once habitable moon. I am no planetologist, but it’s inconceivable that Dawn was seeded in this way by single and small-celled life that had gone dormant and woke up within its oceans and guided the moon into its current more generous state.”

  “So the Bwillers destroyed one habitable moon and in the process, kickstarted another one?”

  “That is my best guess. Though I have to admit I’m not a specialist in the appropriate sciences. No doubt my people will study the question in great detail once we take possession of Dawn.”

  “And you’ve been to the moon’s surface?”

  “Several times. I obtained orbital scans of the entire surface and then, based on those scans, chose several different locations to land and map more precisely.”

  “About that,” said Gel. “You had a vessel.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m guessing it’s the one you left from the Clarkeson home world in.”

  “That is correct.”

  “So what happened to it? Why did you have to hitch a ride to Finiskifel, and why did you need me and my ship?”

  “There was… an accident.” Aushthack’s already spiked fluorescent hair stood up on end even higher, and Gel wondered if this marked the Tosh physiological response akin to a blush among humans.

  “An accident?”

  “An altercation.”

  “Altercation?”

  Aushthack sighed. “It is not important.”

  “Then you won’t mind elaborating.”

  “Fine. If you must know, I was visiting Higgins.”

  “Is that a person or a place? I don’t recognize the name.”

  “It is a popular destination in Glamorkan space. Are you familiar with the race?”

  “Sure. Big, saurian guys. They look like humanoid dinosaurs. They have a knack for spatial relations. A lot of them are great builders.”

  Aushthack nodded. “I was meeting to discuss the construction costs for prefabricated and expandable habitats to house the first wave of Tosh once we resolved the relocation issues.”

  Gel nodded. “Planning ahead. That’s good. What was the altercation?”

  “After successfully completing my business meeting with a Glamorkan firm but before I could return to my vessel, I encountered a small group of other Glamorkans who, it would seem, had had prior business dealings with a Clarkeson.”

  “And those dealings hadn’t ended well?”

  “That would be an understatement. And as they had been unable to obtain satisfaction with the Clarkeson who, they insisted, had deceived and defrauded them, they concluded it was only right and just to take their displeasure out on me as I was, apparently, a member of the same race.”

  “That doesn’t sound like typical Glamorkan behavior. Every one of them that I’ve met has always been very level-headed and calm.”

  “Your experience mirrors my own more limited encounters. Certainly that was how I found the
construction firm I met with. It is worth noting that the second group appeared intoxicated.”

  “You’re saying they were drunk?”

  “I encountered them as they were leaving a refreshment parlor that I was passing on my way to the shipyard where my vessel awaited.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I never made it to the shipyard. I had to reverse direction and flee as they were threatening physical harm and seemed well aware of the colony nature of Clarkesons, shouting their intention to chop my body up into little bits and scatter the pieces so they could not reassemble. While a Clarkeson might survive such treatment, singular beings cannot.”

  “So you ran.”

  “As quickly as I could. And in making my escape, I secreted myself in a cargo container. I was unaware that my hiding place was among a set of containers that were in the process of being loaded onto a ship. When I emerged hours later, not only had I left my Glamorkan pursuers behind, but also the world we had been on and such possessions as I had accumulated since leaving my home.”

  “So how did you get to Finiskifel?”

  “That came much later. When I was discovered by the crew of the cargo vessel, I was able to access funds from an account and pay for my passage. I then regrouped and continued my efforts, which included encountering Randolv Greyce, and then eventually and most recently, meeting with you. And now here we are.”

  “Indeed.” Gel took Tiggly up and out of the gas giant’s atmosphere, and quickly acquired rough schematics of the orbits of its various moons and debris rings.

  “That one there,” said Aushthack, pointing to the display. “That is Dawn.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll head next,” said Gel, “but I’d like to wait a little while first and build up a better picture of the star system.”

  “Why?”

  “I realize it’s unlikely, but I’d like to know for sure that there are no Cliveden vessels in the area.”

  “That’s a very good point.”

  “Thanks. The greater likelihood though is that, even if they are still currently conducting mining operations or archaeological digs on any of the other planets, they involve work teams that have been dropped off and only visited by Cliveden vessels when they trade off personnel or restock supplies.”

  “And once you’ve confirmed the absence of any Cliveden in this space?”

  “Then I’ll head to the moon and check out one of your preferred landing sites.”

  “That would be excellent,” said Aushthack.

  “I don’t suppose you can, say, supply me with the maps from the surveys you performed the last time you were here?”

  “Of course. On my first visit, shortly after I’d identified the moon as a potentially viable choice, I placed a range of stealth satellites in orbit. They have been gathering geological, topological, and meteorological data for years. I had the resulting analysis with me when I met with the Glamorkans to show the terrain where their habitats would be deployed.”

  He pulled another memory wafer from a pocket of his jumpsuit and offered it to Gel.

  “Everything you need should be on there.”

  She responded with a crooked smile, wondering what caused the Tosh to dole out information so sparingly and if it was a personal quirk or psychological trait of his race. Which in turn brought up the question of what else he might still be withholding.

  “Thanks. I’m sure that’ll be very useful.” She took the wafer and slotted it into her console, calling up the first in a series of maps while Tiggly scanned the rest of the star system in the background, building up a map of her own.

  Alleged Xenophobic Assholes

  She set Tiggly down on a vast grassy sward located in the center of Aushthack’s preferred site. In the middle distance the sward flowed down a hill toward a river. In the other direction it rose higher and vanished into what Gel assumed passed for trees among the local flora. The vegetation here had a little more blue than green, but that could have been an effect of the gas giant looming overhead, a swirling mix of purples and blues that filled half the sky. The sky itself was a cloudless, pale green, the exact shade of some mint chocolate chip gelato she had enjoyed at the end of a previous gig. Although she wasn’t a slave to it, Gel admitted to having a sweet tooth, and liked to reward herself at the end of a job well done.

  Judging by the view on her display screens, Aushthack was due a nice dessert himself. He’d found an incredible world for his people.

  “I assure you, the air is perfectly breathable,” he said. “Gravity and pressure are fractionally lighter than you maintain here on the ship, well within the tolerances enjoyed by most singular humanoids.”

  “And Clarkesons?”

  “Well, yes, that is well, though, I have no reason to believe any Clarkeson has ever been here.”

  “How many times have you been here?”

  “Seven times before; eight counting this trip. It has taken me years to explore all of the portals that the Clarkesons hid on gas giants, both the one hundred associated with the systems of mausoleum worlds and the other sixty that ultimately lead back to their home.”

  Gel gestured to the gas giant overhead. “And this is the only one that led to a place your people could use?”

  “Yes. Remember, all of these portals are ancient. I suspect they were the first thing the Clarkesons did when they left home. It is possibly the only thing they did, working together before all their consortiums scattered to go their own ways. Likely many of these portals opened onto systems with usable worlds, most of which have since been claimed and inhabited by other races. In a few cases, the stars of those systems have since died, and then there were a handful — like this system — where prior inhabitants scoured the worlds on the way out.”

  “And you kept returning here to make sure no one else had found it?”

  “In part, but also to gather more information about the world itself. I wanted to build a picture of its seasons, patterns of rainfall and the like.”

  “You could have simply left satellites to gather that data for you.”

  The Tosh shook his head. ““I was reluctant to use anything larger than the passive stealth probes I’d already left behind, lest someone discover them and infer that I’d been here.”

  Gel frowned. “I don’t know if there is much in interstellar law that covers this, but it would seem to me, based on what I know about my father owning his own planet, that it’s critical for you to establish a claim.”

  “There are problems with that.”

  “Oh?”

  “First, that two prior claims already exist for the entire system. All of this once belonged to the Bwill.”

  “True, but they abandoned it.”

  “Yes, which opened the door for the Cliveden to lay their own claim.”

  “But you found no evidence that they’ve shown any interest in, or even noticed this moon. I mean, if they had, wouldn’t they have at a minimum, established a colony.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Aushthack. “From what I have learned, the Cliveden have no interest in expanding to new worlds beyond the six planets they have filled in their home system. They rigorously control access to that system and deny entrance to races, most of whom they regard as both morally and intellectually inferior to themselves.”

  Gel nodded. “That’s consistent with what I’ve heard. They tend to be xenophobic assholes.”

  “Colorfully stated, but accurate. As such, they do not colonize new worlds, nor share planets with other races. Such population as they have that is not resident on one of their system’s planets, make their homes aboard vessels, as well as orbital facilities and construction yards”

  “Construction yards?”

  “The Cliveden build all their own ships. It would never occur to them to travel aboard anything constructed by an inferior race. There are vast parts of the population — one could argue their elite — who dwell aboard the ships of their fleet.

  “So you’re sayi
ng, they wouldn’t want this moon to themselves.

  “Certainly not to expand their living space, though I’m sure they could find some way to profit from it.”

  “Okay, that could work out well. How would you feel about having the Cliveden as your landlord?”

  “Uncomfortable.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Just as I doubt the Tosh would be welcome on other worlds because of our resemblance to Clarkesons, I believe the only safe way to build a new life for ourselves is to maintain secrecy about our existence.”

  “That’s gonna be very tricky, living on a moon in a system that the Cliveden routinely visit.”

  “Exactly,” said Aushthack. “Which brings us back to the need to shut down their portal here.”

  “Even if you were to do that, it’s not a permanent solution. How long before they simply push one end of a new portal here? What’s the next closest star system where they can start from?”

  Aushthack didn’t hesitate. “One hundred twenty-two light years.”

  “Right. Enough time for you to begin to build your home, but not much time to prepare for their retribution.”

  “Retribution? Why would you use such a word? They would simply arrive and discover a colony that they had not noticed before. Why would they assume we had anything to do with the disruption of their previous portal?”

  “Occam’s razor,” said Gel.

  “Sorry?”

  “A philosophical construct that humans are fond of. It suggests that when seeking out a solution to a problem, the simplest answer is apt to be the most correct.”

  “I don’t see how that applies. Portals fail, not often, but it’s been known to happen.”

  “And maybe that’s what the Cliveden would assume happened here. But once they arrive and find your colony, healthy, more than a hundred years old, and unknown to anyone else in the galaxy, a simpler answer will present itself to them: that your people disrupted their portal. Even that suspicion would be enough to trigger retribution. I can’t think of any race that would disagree with whatever harsh response they chose to mete out. And let’s not forget Cliveden are well known for their smug sense of superiority.”