Stare too long into the Long Dark and it will burrow into your soul.
Every old spacer hanging around Guelph Station drinking cheap booze and remembering their glory days grumbled those words. Lenny Pope didn’t drink, but he enjoyed listening to those most ignored.
Most of the stories he heard were full of long-haul spacer superstition. He didn’t necessarily believe in superstitions, but he kept his opinions to himself. They possessed a bunch: no whistling while on the Rim, renaming a ship beckoned disaster. His favorite was black cats on board brought good luck, not that many could afford one these days. He understood why the old-timers said such things: they were attempting to control the unknown.
Yet Lenny agreed with them at the same time. He didn’t enjoy looking out at nothing from their ship, the Eumenides, either. Unlike the rest of his family, he found the pit of empty space they traveled through uncomfortable. He’d always find an asteroid, a planet—hell, even some space junk—to focus on.
Not like his brother. He glanced over at Morgan hunched over the ore scanner. Older by a couple of years, their parents let him get away with a lot more than they would Lenny, like his green hair that matched the hull color of their family’s ship. He’d let it grow long, even though it got caught in the scanner’s visor.
“Anything good?” Lenny dared to ask.
Morgan let out a long sigh and pushed his hair out of his face as he stood up. “Nothing worth waking Mom and Dad over. This whole asteroid cloud is pure granite. We should have listened to Tim Bits. He warned us the Combine mined it out last cycle.”
They targeted the long line of debris in the orbit of Krasue. It lay on the edge of the solar system of Nachzehrer—a lonely place to make a living. Usually, such places were lucrative enough to keep the Popes as free agents in a universe of vast corporations. Morgan became adept at scanning rocks and debris, hunting for those rare metals or ice chunks large enough to make them worthwhile to haul in. They’d hoped Tim was shooting his mouth off again, but this time it appeared he was right.
Lenny slid back in his chair. One more cycle and he could join the Combine without the permission of his parents, William and Daniella Pope. A couple of his friends back on Guelph Station filled out the forms already. That wasn’t a guarantee they’d get in, but it was something, at least. The other option was to join the military. His folks completed two tours for the Space Operating Forces of the UPP, and their reviews were less than glowing. Any mention of the SOF and his parents would lock him on the Eumenides until he came to his senses.
Morgan would never think about signing up for either the Combine or the SOF. He was as committed to their family mining venture as their parents. His entire world was this tub. Yet it was Lenny who’d put them in debt.
“Hey, shit-heel!” Morgan leaned over to shove his brother’s feet off the edge of the dash. He must’ve recognized something in Lenny’s expression that indicated he was sliding towards introspection. “Why don’t you go make me a coffee while we come around the sunward side of the planet? You know, just in case the company missed something back there.”
Lenny got up without comment and slipped past his brother. The back of the Eumenides was as tight as the cockpit. Spending weeks out in this beloved tin can left no room for privacy, but at least in the galley Lenny might have a few moments alone. As he did the slide-shuffle to get back there, he kicked shut the hatch in the floor, which led down to the ore hold with the tether nets. Morgan left it open like he was hopeful one of them would have to race down to fire the nets. Luck would be a fine thing.
Lenny understood why his brother, who focused all his energy on keeping the mining skiff and their home solvent, tried to remain optimistic. Out here on the edge of known space, and on the lip of financial ruin, there wasn’t any hope to be found in the Long Dark. Whatever hope you needed, you must build yourself.
When it was their parents’ shift, they usually sat in their chairs, feet propped on the dash, eyes fixed on the emptiness of it all. Through it, though, they held hands. Both were former UPP soldiers, used to not having a lot and grateful for being alive. Lenny often suspected their relationship was the only thing keeping them from total cynicism. Still, it took both brothers promising not to halt the scan for them to retreat to their sleeping berth for a few hours’ rest. It was a hard life, which Lenny worried was taking a toll on his parents. Another concern to add to his constant list.
Lenny fished out the coffee from the battered cupboard. It was the pre-processed imitation kind because no one had the money for the actual stuff. Using your imagination was the only way to make it palatable. Lenny shook a good amount out into the tiny mug before slapping the boiler to life. Out here, they usually ran out of proper water in the first couple of weeks. In the Long Dark you learned to forget you were making your coffee with your crewmates’ recycled piss.
During treatment, Pelorus, the former medical synth back on Guelph, described different worlds to him, and ways to live. Now, Lenny wanted that. He clung to it like a man with only a sip of air left in his suit.
As Lenny stirred the concoction, he wondered whether soldiers at least got the good stuff. His folks should know, but he would not ask them. Any time he brought up their past, they totally shut down. If they guessed he’d even casually scanned the signup release for the SOF, they’d lose their minds. His mom would no doubt tie him up in the tether nets and head for the outer rim.
Not that he would actually do it. The Eumenides would be too short-handed to function without his help.
As always when he became nervous, his finger drifted to his temple and the one-centimeter square of metal on the outer edge of his right eye, concealed beneath his skin. No one ever mentioned the augment that saved his life when he was only ten, but it lingered in the desperate atmosphere of the Eumenides. The birth defect nearly killed him. The Muster Syndrome, they called it, since it afflicted the kids of many former soldiers. It left Morgan untouched but ravaged Lenny’s brain. It became apparent the moment he took his first breath. In his early years drugs were enough to keep the effects at bay, but as his body entered puberty, they didn’t cut it anymore. Without more complicated intervention, he’d have stroked out within a year, unable to deal with the g-force experienced by any child living on a spaceship.
His parents were presented with three choices: either leave him in the UPP’s care, let him die in theirs, or mortgage the Eumenides. His parents both grew up in the UPP’s children’s camps: the haunted look in his mother’s eyes, in particular, told Lenny they would’ve never taken that option. The augment that would save him remained available for a price, and the company didn’t care how many children died; the cost remained firm.
The augment kept him alive, and when the flight computer acted up, he could jack into it and fix the problem. Hardly worth the high price the family all paid, though.
As if thinking about it activated the augment, a tickle built up in the back of his brain. He’d been told there was no way he had enough nerves there, but that was how it sometimes felt. It was as if the itch was crawling around the inside of his skull.
Chugging the coffee meant for his brother didn’t seem to shake it. He tried not to think about it, but if it wasn’t for his Muster Syndrome, his parents could have afforded a crew. It would have been a very different life. He might have been drinking real coffee in some company office.
“Shit,” Lenny whispered under his breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose. The augment sensation had never been this strong before. He made another cup for Morgan and staggered back to the bridge.
His brother took the mug and glanced up. “You okay? The augment acting up?”
Lenny hated talking about it with any of his family. Every time he mentioned it bothering him, he felt awful. The thing that threatened to financially ruin his family every time dock fees came due should at least work right.
He nodded and gestured to the scanner. “I’m fine. You wanna take a break? I can run this.”
Morgan slipped out of the chair and over to the pilot’s seat. The computer was in charge, but she wasn’t one of those fancy Wey-Yu ones. It didn’t do to leave her steering the Eumenides without some kind of supervision. He busied himself with checking settings, while Lenny positioned himself over the scanner.
Their limited computer system selected likely areas in the debris cloud to search, but they needed a human eye to run more complete analysis. He played the scanner’s beam over the nearest section of debris. Lenny spotted nothing but granite, but for a second, in one corner, the light briefly flared. He blinked, frowned, and jerked back from the viewer.
“You alright there, shit-heel?” Morgan asked, setting his mug of coffee down on the dash.
The augment sometimes caused him to experience visual distortions, flickers of noise, and now and then a phantom smell. Lenny shook his head.
“No, I’m fine. Probably that damn coffee.”
Morgan chuckled. “Find us a deposit the Combine missed and maybe we can afford the good stuff.”
“Yeah, sure. Right.” Lenny leaned back down. “Can you take us five clicks to starboard? There’s less chewed-up debris over there.”
Morgan flew the Eumenides in the direction he’d suggested. His expression, though, wasn’t optimistic.
Lenny fitted his face back into the viewer of the scanner. The augment showed him a flicker of light once more, but he ignored it. Then a high-pitched squeal burst in his left ear. It lasted for only a second, but it made his eyes water. He managed not to jerk away again.
Morgan nudged the ship closer to the section of the debris cloud Lenny wanted to examine. He muttered a bit to himself as well, though he wouldn’t have done that if it was their mom or dad at the viewer.
Lenny frowned. “I think there might be something behind that cluster of untouched granite back there. Bring us around in a circle.”
The Eumenides shook a little as Morgan activated the jets used for minute position adjustments. The ship came about, rotating around a section of untouched rock.
“This looks new,” Lenny said. “This rock could have been deposited by a comet or something more recently than the Combine harvest.”
“That’d be nice,” Morgan replied. “Comets can bring in some valuable metals from beyond the system. Shall I go wake the folks?”
Lenny stared down at the viewer. Suddenly, it lit up with many colors. Aluminum. Steel. Even traces of Eitr. That was exciting enough, but then he made out the largest piece of comet debris nestled behind the granite, and it was rectangular. Not much in the natural world, even out in the Long Dark, was such a defined shape.
“Yeah, do it!” he said, not looking up but waving towards his brother. “They’re going to need to deploy the nets.”
As he scanned more, his heart raced. This wasn’t a natural deposit. It must be salvage material. Somewhere in the path of a comet, a ship lost at least part of its hull. The only naturally occurring place to find Eitr was in the mines of the planet Shānmén. The authorities shut down that mine because of a plague outbreak in the previous cycle, so to find the element floating out here meant it could only have come from a shipwreck.
Lenny only glanced up when his parents emerged from their berth. He finally sat back on the bench, letting out a ragged breath.
Daniella rubbed her dark hair, shot through with gray, then stretched her neck. “Think you’ve got something, huh?”
He nodded and shrugged, strangely embarrassed by his discovery now that his parents were here.
William slid into the pilot’s seat, his gaze fixed on the Long Dark and the orbiting debris. His beard was as rumpled as his hair. “First find for you, son. Let’s see if you’re as good as your brother.”
Morgan rolled his eyes at Lenny and mouthed, He doesn’t mean it. Lenny shrugged, like it didn’t matter.
Daniella dropped into the seat next to her husband and ran through the net test cycle. She spared only one glance over her shoulder at her sons. “Get ready by the haul door. I am not wasting fuel bringing in trash. I need your eyeballs on what I drag in. That means you, Morgan.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He opened the hatch and Lenny followed him down into the most important part of the Eumenides. The cargo hold was empty, a sad indictment of their success so far. At the stern was the airlock which contained the net and clamps. As the brothers waited, Daniella opened the outermost door and deployed the long cables. Each of these she piloted out into the debris field, the nets uncoiling behind.
These moments were heart-stopping, at least to Lenny. Seeing the Long Dark through the glass airlock made it seem closer and far more dangerous. The brothers waited in the tense semi-darkness of the hold, not speaking to each other.
The net deployment system groaned and clanked, slapping against the side of the Eumenides like some primeval sea creature. Dimly, Daniella’s voice rose above the din. Lenny couldn’t make out the words, but his mom loved to swear while working the ancient nets. She always said it helped her concentrate.
The intercom clicked on in the hold. “Alright, I think I got something. Hauling now.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to be doing this for a share,” Morgan muttered, then let out a snort of a laugh. Shares were for commercial vessels. The brothers worked for survival and family.
Lenny didn’t want to go near that subject. Instead, he grabbed two pairs of thick gloves and tossed one set to Morgan. The net dragged and bumped across the floor, and then the outer door closed.
The digital array by the inner airlock door ran from red, through orange, and finally cycled to green. Morgan reached the controls first. “Alright, little bro, let’s see what you got us.” He punched the button, and the doors groaned open.
With the nets retracted on each side of the inner bay, Morgan and Lenny picked their way through the catch, using hand scanners to identify the metals. It didn’t take long.
“Yeah, this isn’t natural.” Lenny picked up a piece of twisted metal. “This is ship salvage.”
“Works either way.” Morgan pulled at the largest section. “See if we can find some ID numbers, and we’ll report to the Ministry of Space Security to get checked out. Pretty likely we’ll get to sell this, though. Should be a good amount, too.”
“Maybe Mom will crack a smile.”
Morgan didn’t reply, too busy levering a flat section loose. It broke open and tumbled to the deck, revealing a far different shape. “Oh, fuck no.” His older brother staggered back. “Goddamn, no!”
The long rectangular shape couldn’t be anything other than a cryo escape pod.
Lenny stumbled over the scattered debris to reach it. Morgan kicked a slice of aluminum with such force that it bounced off the hull walls. Lenny, however, crouched to examine the pod.
The design wasn’t a familiar one, and Lenny studied ship design for fun. It wasn’t anything off a freighter or pleasure cruiser. The sturdy construction screamed military, though there were no SOF markings on it.
“Do you see green?” Morgan asked, circling the pod. “Do you see green lights?”
Lenny peered underneath to glimpse the controls. “They’re flickering. Hold on. I see one green. The rest are dark.”
The pod lay on its face, so there was no way to check the contents. Morgan grabbed a long pry bar, and together, the brothers strained to roll the pod over. Neither of them was cruel enough to desire another traveler’s death in the Long Dark. However, the fact remained that under law the wreckage was fair salvage only if there was a corpse inside. A living, breathing occupant made things much more complicated.
The pod landed right-side up with a crash, nearly crushing Morgan’s foot. He jumped back as Lenny got a close-up view of the control panel.
“Yeah, it’s barely functional.” Leaning over, he brushed ice off the glass panel and peered in. He fully expected to see a mummified face staring back. Instead, the inhabitant of the pod seemed as fresh as if she’d climbed in there only moments before.
It was a young woman, with sharp cheekbones, dark skin, and close-cropped hair—like something out of those stupid Earth fairy tales. She didn’t appear to be wounded.
Morgan peered in and let out an aggravated sigh. “Well, there goes our salvage, little brother! Pretty as she is, that doesn’t pay the bills.”
“We need to find out how busted up she is.” Lenny stood up. “We’re going to have to run a bypass on the pod systems to get her out of there.”
Morgan glanced away for a long moment.
He must be calculating the losses to the Eumenides.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I bet she’s got a good story to tell, at least.”
Lenny rubbed his neck. Sometimes he felt guilty that he wasn’t as obsessed by the family finances as his brother and parents were. His aspirations beyond the Eumenides made it easier to ignore their current reality. Their skiff sailed on razor-thin margins. Laws surrounding salvage were one thing, but there were also laws regarding recovered escape pods. The Eumenides would have to return to Guelph immediately, but bureaucracy would tie up the ship’s fuel compensation for months. A lot of crews would have dumped the pod, stripped the logs of any mention of it, and moved on. But the Popes would not, even if it made their lives more complicated.
Lenny was proud of that. The idea of floating out in the dark all alone was his living nightmare, and he wasn’t part of a family that would ever let that happen.
He looked down at her, resting peacefully, and he hoped the woman in the pod had no memory of that. The story she held was bound to be an interesting one.