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"Vivi, I'm afraid." The whisper is close to my ear.
"Go back to sleep, Anthy." I push at him, but my brother only buries his skinny three-year-old body deeper into my chest and stomach.
"Vivi. Please."
It's always the same for me coming out of hyper-sleep; in that few seconds of waking, before consciousness takes firm hold, flash memory kicks in. Others wake from deep sleep with pleasant dreams or cramped limbs and pain, but I flash dark, waking to nightmares.
I don't want to remember what that waking brings, but I can never stop the rush of memory—the dogs barking in the yard, the creak of the backdoor as our father slips out into the darkness to investigate the disturbance. How the burst of light from the raider ship flares and blinds me, even with my eyelids closed. It's so bright I could swear it makes a sound as it throws everything in our small house to stark brilliance or shadow.
Our father and mother die in silence, the same as all the other adults in our small colony, but I remember the sound of smashing wood as a metal giant—a man in a heavy combat suit—crashes into our home and rakes our bed with more light. A Human form steps from behind the sheltering bulk and crosses to grasp our arms and drag us out into the glaring light in the street.
I recognize him. He's one of three strangers who came into our town for the harvest festival earlier in the day. They moved among the adults, talking, sampling foods, laughing. Papa told us they brought the prospect of trade for our excess grain harvest. That possibly New Bounty would get the trade we needed to become a recognized, settled planet in the Earth Alliance. The news excited the adults, making them indulgent. They smiled when we took extra candy or cake instead of scolding us.
Now I hear soft sobs as the raiders thrust more colony children into the dirt around me.
Five-year-old Mandy begins to scream for her momma. The man goes over and drags her to the front, where we can all see. The energy lash sizzles blue when it touches her back, and her screams rise to mind-tearing pitch. Three lashes. When he throws her back into the dirt, she is limp and silent.
"You and you." He jabs a finger at Jonathon and me. We are the oldest of the twelve children. "Each of you is in charge of five younger. They are your group. You make sure they eat, sleep, and stay quiet. Any trouble and you get the same as they get." He flicks the energy lash in the air and I stare as it sizzles with blue light. "Now, pick her up." He points at me. "And all of you get moving."
***
A PATTERN OF TAPS PENETRATED my nightmare. It was a programmed signal, telling me there was something outside my dream-horror; that my "dewdrop" was beckoning me. I surged for the lifeline that careful conditioning had taught me the sound offered.
"Gaughh!" I opened my eyes to see Saurubi perched on the transparent dome of my suspended animation cylinder, or SAC. She rapped the plasglass bubble one more time, then retracted her claws and rolled off as I hit the internal release.
The dome slid down into the side of the cylinder.
"Was bad?" she asked as I sat up.
"Always is." She already knew the answer. It was why the Corp had partnered us after our first deep sleep. She always woke quick and clean; I always flashed dark, trapped in the horrors of my past.
Flashing dark was both a blessing and a curse for me. It kept the memory of Anthy fresh in my mind, and it had gotten me paired with the alien astrogator who became my business partner. On the other end of the spectrum, I could never escape the trauma of my past. No matter how much therapy I underwent—and I'd had plenty—it continued to haunt me whenever I awoke from deep sleep.
I snatched the monitor patches off my skin and flung them away.
"Wish could help."
I forced a smile. "I appreciate what you already do."
The EA Space Marine Corps—the biggest mover of Humans in hyper, or deep sleep—had recognized the problem of flashing dark in a small percentage of its personnel a long time ago. The countermeasure they settled on was simple: pair the marine with someone who didn't have the problem during the buddy assignment. Saura was my "dewdrop," a term some goof had coined from an ancient song about pretty sleepers or something. The pairing had molded our friendship. She knew my story, along with my foster parents Admiral and Liz Maxte, and a long chain of psych-doctor types who had tried to smooth out all the dents and dings—hell, more like all the open, jagged gashes—in my mental state and reset me to something close to normal. It had worked for the most part, but I still had a bad time with Spacertown, especially during station night-cycle. Shadows filled with skulking deviants, real or imagined, waiting for the sex-slavers to bring out their wares, loomed in the dark. While I was in that zone an unpredictable word or movement could throw me into a dangerous rage that led to fights, injuries, and confinement.
I refused to feel ashamed of the anger, and that was part of the problem. Those darkest moments put me in a state where, unchecked, I would have gone into those dives and killed all the perverts skulking inside.
It wouldn't bring Anthy back...
Saurubi pushed at my shoulder. "Come. Have arrived at edge of system. Time to eat while ship completes scans." She bound out of my cabin and took a right toward the galley.
She was working her way through a third rip-and-run redi-meal while I poked a mess of beans, rice, and cheese and debated whether to take a fourth bite. She paused to eye me critically. "Bruises from fight healed in cryo. Expect to carry share of workload or will make new bruises to replace old."
I laughed. The hundred and fifty centimeter-tall Tabi could do worse than bruise me if she had a mind to do it. "You're no bigger threat than a kitten," I scoffed.
The comment sent her furry, upright ears back in irritation. She despised the nonsensical way Human media tried to draw comparisons between her people and cats.
Reaching across our small galley table, she flicked the edge of my plate with a claw, setting the container spinning. "Eat. No shirking."
She finished the last of her food in one gulp, dumped the containers in the recycle slot, and exited the galley with a dusky blue strut any cat in the universe would envy.
I shoved down a few more bites and followed her forward to the bridge, where she had a 3-D display of the system pulled up at her station. The light from it glinted off the intricate, wire-thin copper tracings of tattoos imbedded beneath her fur as she moved to check the Hand's stats on our boards.
The Tabi Empire had certainly intended Saurubi Cerros Syrhas, Astrogator Class Superior, for more complicated tasks than tweaking navigation settings on a tiny cargo hauler in EA space.
She had come to the Space Fleet in an officer exchange program. The agreement with the Tabi Empire—our first and still closest ally after Humans gained admission as associate members of the Whooex Union of Stars—had called for the exchange of some of their valuable astrogators for our cooks.
Tabisee love to eat, but they're not much on cooking. A joke circulating in the EA claims they moved out into space to find a decent meal. Bad cooks aside, the Tabi Empire produces astounding deepspace navigators. It's as if they have 3-D star maps inside their heads, even for places they've never been before, which enables the Tabi Empire to use a different ship drive than other Whooex Star Associations. They recently came to recognize the value of learning the more dominant system, however, and because the EA was relatively new to the Origami Fold, our collaboration came naturally.
And that was how Saura and I were paired as battle buddies. We worked well together and when our time in the EA Space Marines was up, we slapped down equal money for down payment on the Thief's Hand, a cylindrical soup can of a cargo ship with a rotating gravity ring midway down its length, and happily moved into the civilian sector.
There was just one tiny problem. When Tabisee finished their five-year term of service with the Earth Alliance, they were supposed to return to their own corner of the galactic spur.
Saurubi sort of overlooked that small detail.
Earth Alliance declared her persona non grata and banned her presence in the Inner Systems. The Tabi Empire declared her a rogue and a deserter. Oddly, however, neither Star Association attempted to detain and return her to her people. EA Space Fleet knew where she was; they occasionally pressed us into service on the Outer Rim. It appeared that as long as we kept a low profile and focused most of our business activity out there, with only short returns to the Hand's port of registry, Mandragala Station—where Saura stayed aboard ship—neither power seemed particularly interested in us.
I suspected the Tabisee were not happy with her failure to return home. When I expressed my concern, she simply shrugged and said she wanted to own and work the Thief's Hand with me.
Our friends and acquaintances sometimes mistook our relationship for lovers, believing she stayed because of me. They were wrong.
There's a saying on the frontier, 'we'll find a way.' As inspirational as it sounds, it does not refer to positive attitudes and collaborative thinking, the way administrators want to believe. It relates to sexual relations between species. They get creative. We did try it once, when we found ourselves forced to share a room on Vacca. It turned out that's just not what we're about. Now we get our kicks separately out on the Rim. Jointly, we're friends and business partners who know we can trust each other with our lives: our history has proven that many times. But Saura stays in the EA, on the Thief's Hand, because she wants to.
Don't misunderstand. I'm not naïve. We're all aware she's observing the common ins and outs of life in Human space. If that doesn't bother the EA, it sure doesn't bother me. Besides, I learn from her, too. The real question that gnaws at me in the dark hours when sleep eludes me is how long we have before the inevitable catches up with us and she's forced to return to Tabi space and possible punishment for her independence. She'd cuff me severely if she knew, and say "stupid, search for trouble." She would be right. It didn't mean I was wrong.
I peered over her shoulder at the 3-D map, then glanced at the monitors to confirm what I was—or wasn't—seeing. "Is this right?"
The monitors should have reflected gravitational fluctuations all over the scale from local planets and system debris. Instead, they were nearly flatlined. The only objects showing in the three-D map were the star, a blip for the station, which was too small to register mass at this distance, and a gas giant with a single moon and a fuel platform revolving around it. It looked as if something had almost swept the entire inner system clean.
"Proambu must have used system material for ringworld project." Her fingers stroked the right side of her display, pulling up additional information.
"Someone has actually done that?" The concept of a ringworld, its massive band encircling a star, its habitable surface turned inward and the night and day cycle controlled by giant, circling plates was not new. Earth writers had postulated the constructs' existence more than two centuries ago. But the amount of technology and material, not to mention the expense required to create the vast things, had made them only objects of speculation in the EA.
"Proambu have. Twice. Are working on third construct." Her ears tilted back.
"What?"
"Picking up trace residue from weapon discharge closer in to star."
That set the back of my bare scalp crawling. The gas giants that dotted Whooex Union space were free fuel for any ship that had the equipment to convert their substance. Unfortunately, their isolation often lured pirates, who preyed on the smaller ships dropping out of fold to harvest their fuel. "How recent?"
"Dispersion pattern indicates is recent."
"Debris?"
"None."
No one had been hit, then. "Was it pirates?"
"Would be stupid pirates. No good ships for profit out here."
Stupid, indeed, to set up operations in an area contested by two Star Associations as powerful as the Proambu and the Endar. Only idiots would come out here. "Maybe someone test-fired a weapon on their way out after they fueled."
"Possible." She looked over at me. "Go in?"
"I don't think we have a choice." Damned MoMo and Frairy.
"With much empty space, will be hard for pirates to sneak up. Idwal will also have defenses." She set the Hand on course to station fall the facility. "Will run long-range monitors."
I watched the display image flicker out of focus and back in as our scanners took over. It looked the same. "I understand why they left the gas ball, but if they took the rest of their equipment, why did they leave Idwal behind? It must be an expensive piece of property." Then again, expense might not be an issue for beings who made ringworlds.
"Whooex files say Proambu moved some equipment into next star system to begin new deconstruction. Is where they encountered hostility from Endar."
The tingle in my scalp slid all the way down my spine. "We're that close to Endar space?"
"System past next is Endar Primacy."
I drew a deep breath. Okay. Endar, two systems over. "Is it possible a Proambu crew might have accidentally wandered into their system and set off this little feud they've had going on for what, two hundred years?"
"With such high tech is hard to imagine Proambu make mistake. Is most ancient of the Whooex civilizations, though not founding member. Also, least interactive. Have trade presence on Moneyworld for past several hundred years, but mostly stay in own space."
I didn't want to think of the Moneyworld or its role in putting us out here at the edge of nowhere with a recent weapon's discharge right now. Still, with time progressing at a faster rate on stations and worlds while ships slipped through the bends of folded space, by the time we delivered whatever cargo we picked up here, our next job could actually be a contract to the Moneyworld.
"Something upset Endar two hundred years ago," my partner continued. "Became extremely hostile toward Proambu. Now contesting Proambu claim over next system."
From EA perspective, the Endar didn't seem to require a reason to be hostile. They hated us even before we had any recorded interactions with them. One thing was for certain: there was one direction we were not carrying any new cargo, no matter what the MoMo paid us.
Saura dismissed the data and refocused on the shipfeeds flowing on her screen and perivision, while I watched the tiny light that represented the Thief's Hand on the 3-D display. At the pace we were falling, it would take us several days to reach our destination.
Saura's ears snapped up.
Shit! "What?" My heart raced as she leaned forward, fingers adjusting our sensors.
"Flicker of something on far side of system in heliopause." She magnified an area approximately a hundred and eighty degrees around the rocky ring.
The readouts remained steady.
"A ghost?" Another chill drove down my back. There was speculation that ghosts were the shadows of ships using Origami Drive, that sensors picked up on their lower ranges as they folded through a region of shared space. A more realistic, ominous explanation was that they were traces of real ships under stealth or camouflage mode, lurking at the edge of sensor range. "Is it Endaran—Endar?"
"No trace of heat or conversion debris, but is long distance for Hand's sensors to reach. May be tumbling trash. Oh!"
The 3-D display in front of us disappeared as the bridge went dark.
I snatched her left hand, driving my thumb into the location at the base of her wrist where her data feeds were located, to shut them down.
"Vivi!" She jerked her arm back and glared at me in the red glow of our emergency backup system. "By Holy Plinth, what doing?"
"I was disconnecting you from the ship," I stammered, caught between confusion and relief. "I thought something was attacking our system." We were slowly blinking back to life. The red light gave over to normal lighting. "What happened?"
"Idwal responded to arrival ping. Ship systems rebooted to adjust to Proambu data feeds." She gave me a measuring look, then grinned, her incisors glinting in the light as the rest of our systems resurrected. "Is good to know you care, but have safeguards in place to protect against feed anomalies. Tabi realize must be wary of Human hackers."
I blushed, unable to defend my species.
"Also received Proambu language package." Saura's ears twisted with interest as she appeared to examine some new information inside her head.
"What? An upgrade out of the cold?" I was right to have reacted with concern.
"MoMo supplied," she said calmly, as if someone remotely dropped information into her brain every day.
"You have to accept that kind of upgrade through a legal process," I protested. "How the hell did they obtain access to your hardware?"
"Placed at Mandragala, with trigger to allow access here." She shrugged. "Required to do job."
"Yeah, but..." The thought of some random being having access to my brain horrified me. "They can't just do..."
"Vivi." When she said my name in that firm tone, I had learned I better focus and listen. "Know who designed language hardware, right?"
"Yeah," I said slowly. "The MoMo. Why?"
"MoMo created. Own exclusive rights."
I knew they had designed the translation system implanted inside my brain. I hadn't realized they retained some kind of backdoor access to it. "But, altering without user permission? That's tantamount to hijacking a brain! Does everyone know?"
"MoMo reserve right to modify only translation device in Whooex Union. Even Endar must agree."
I bet that galled those bastards. "But," I protested, "our brains contain highly secured information."
"Vivi, is MoMo. Little is protected from. Besides, Proambu facilities not open to other species. No alternative language posts to read. Must communicate in native language with Idwal to board and move around inside."
Okay. I still didn't have to feel comfortable with how the critical information had arrived. "I'm liking this less and less," I muttered.
"Facility sent Hand approach path," she announced.
I checked my own translation software. Thankfully, no files to help me read or understand Proambu had invaded my brain. "I'm chip mute," I told her. I had to stick close to Saura when we got there. "What's our approach?"
Her nose wrinkled as her brain made the necessary translation. "Straight into primary cargo bay xittikp," she made a choking, spitting sound for that last word, then smiled at my dismayed expression. "Not worry, can read and pronounce."
Pronounce. Really?
"Do you think we should make a subspace jump to the facility? Fast in, fast out."
She stood. "Think should not make risky move to save few days inconvenience. Hot jump could draw attention if another ship in area." So that flash in the far reaches of the system was still on her mind, too.
"Someone like the Endar?" We were not in their territory, but who, other than the MoMo and Frairy—and Scriver—would ask 'whatever happened to Vivi and Saurubi' if we failed to show back up in EA space?
Agreeing to the longer timetable, we set the ships monitors and moved on to mundane maintenance tasks to kill the several days until we arrived at Idwal.
Routine chores eventually brought us to the hatch of our cargo hold.
Saura pressed the switch on the panel and we gassed the chamber for a third time. Any threat of infection from slagmanders was long gone—if it had even existed in the first place—but the thought of the nasty little creatures crawling around inside the Hand had made pressing the switch once more feel necessary. Since it took several hours for the process to complete and recycle the air inside the hold, we settled down to inventory the supplies in the spare cabin that the MoMo had dumped on us at Mandragala.
"Is lot of Human food," Saura observed.
"I think so, too. It looks four to one Human to Tabi. Could their calculations be that far off?"
She cut me a sidelong look. "Is MoMo, Vivi."
"Right: they're never wrong. Do you really believe that?"
The position of her ears said yes.
I sighed. "So, what are they trying to tell us? Is there somewhere we would go that might require you to deep sleep the next leg while I stay awake?"
She tilted her head, thinking. "Not send into Tabi territory."
"We're not going anywhere that puts you at risk."
"Only area doesn't allow Tabisee is Mu Juad."
"I've never heard of the Mu Juad."
She shrugged. "Very aggressive, difficult beings beyond Endar space. Likelihood of Human encounter is nil."
"Does the EA know they exist?"
"Cannot say. Many things EA does not know."
Great. There were unfriendlies in the deep dark that Humans did not know anything about.
I gave myself a mental shake. Of course there were. There were things in the Vasty that would blindside the whole Whooex Union.
"Who are these Mu Juad guys?"
"Savages." Her lower lip curled in scorn. "Mu Ju want nothing more than battle. EA not worry. Have to pass through Xix and Tabi space to contact. If see, best to avoid. Mu Ju are scum with no social grace."
Strong words from my generally gracious partner. I nodded. "What do they look like?"
"Green biped less than one EA meters tall. Have large, multifaceted eyes." She glared at me. "Give wide berth. Is all need to know."
This from the girl with four-centimeter retractable claws on her hands and feet. "Got it."
A series of beeps announced the decontamination cycle had finished. I keyed the sequence to open the hatch and we walked into our cargo hold to inspect the six skids of processed metal bars that had forced us to the far reaches of charted space to save ourselves.