The next morning, Dick arrived with breakfast as most of us were just waking up and gathering in the lounge to discuss plans for the day. As he entered, it was obvious that something had him in a mood.
“Aww honey, you baked,” I joked, sarcastically as I took what looked like a fruit pastry from the box he deposited on the bar.
I took a bite and nearly groaned with delight. They were delicious and freshly baked. The fruit wasn’t something I had tasted before, but it had a tartness to it that offset the sweetness of the pastry. I snagged another and retreated to a lounge chair as everyone else helped themselves to breakfast.
“What’s got you in a mood?” I asked Dick when he didn’t respond to my good-natured ribbing. “You have a spat with your fruit lady? Or her husband, perhaps?”
I guessed that was where he got the pastries, and, assuming it was the same fruit lady Matthew and I had observed in the market, I figured Dick’s amorous nature might not have gone over well with her husband. He looked dry, though, so he must have avoided the fountain, unlike the last guy.
“The tarts came from another vendor,” he said. “I stopped by the fruit stand, but it was closed. The baker who sold me the pastries said a lot of vendor’s licenses were revoked yesterday while their citizenship is being re-evaluated. Apparently, the government is implementing some harsher restrictions for merchants originally from the sky islands and shallow-water provinces.”
“Ugh man, this place is turning into some type of fascist regime overnight,” Vomero said with obvious distaste.
“Which brings us all back to the discussion of Owen’s offer,” I said. “I know we agreed to go along with this job for the time being, but what do we want to tell him?”
“Honestly, the money up front is not that necessary for us and doesn’t really reassure me that his backers are as powerful as they say they are,” Vomero said. “With what we sold from the cargo hold, we have enough to either fix the ship up or pay off our debts. I think if we’re resourceful, we could get the rest up within a week anyway.”
“Good point,” Cash said. “Then perhaps we should push for the other half of the bargain instead of the money. Clearing our travel status would not only be a much bigger show of faith to us that they can deliver, but it also shows us what type of connections we’re really dealing with here.”
“And it also gives us more flexibility on a Plan B,” I said. “Not that Owen needs to know that.”
“Well, I assume he’ll be back by here for our answer this morning,” Dick said. “So, someone should stay here to let him know our decision.”
“Well, you’ll have to count Ryuuk and me out for that,” said Cash. “He and I have some things we have to look into today.
“I think I can help him identify that assassin’s gun,” Ryuuk added. “Also, I just gotta say, none of ya’ll seem to have any respect for quality weaponry.”
He pointed at me and Vomero as he spoke, but I just rolled my eyes and took another bite of my pastry.
“I’d rather not have her trying to kill me again in the middle of whatever mission Owen has planned for us,” Cash said.
“I can hang around and wait for Owen,” I said. “I wanted to spend some time looking into whatever that thing is in the cargo hold. For all we know, it could be a solution to some of our problems. We can’t be sure, though, until we can get it out of the floor.”
“I’ve been trying to run tests on it, off and on,” said Vomero. “It’s a very complex system, and, honestly, a little outside of my wheelhouse since it seems to be some type of organic tech. I can stay here with you and go over what I’ve learned, so far, though.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dick interjected. “As for me, I’m going to work on the top priority of getting the ship as functional as possible. There’s a few more things we’ll need to procure for that, though. Vomero and I made a list yesterday before all hell broke loose in Veridi, and I’m going to work on getting the rest of those items before the economic situation around here completely falls apart.”
“You sure you don’t want to try negotiating with Owen?” I asked. “Maybe you could use your magic mojo thing to get him to open up to you, or at least put him off guard so he let’s something slip.”
“Gross, Skye,” Dick said dismissively. “And your double standard regarding the use of my ‘mojo’ is duly noted.”
I smirked, enjoying his obvious discomfort at the suggestion. Though I suspected it had less to do with using his pheromones as a tool for persuasion and more to do with using them on Owen. He didn’t seem to like the guy.
Everyone seemed to have a plan for the day, save Matthew and the old man who were still sleeping soundly in a corner of the passenger lounge. So, after finishing up our fruit tarts, we went our separate ways.
Back in the cargo hold, Vomero and I stared down at the intricate system of wires and tubes running throughout the floor. Someone, I assumed Vomero, had cut away more of the steel floor panels to further reveal the apparatus underneath. It looked like more of the same.
“I have searched numerous databases available to me here and found nothing to indicate what this is,” Vomero said.
“That might make sense,” I said, “considering it probably wasn’t meant to be in this part of the galaxy. Whoever put it here wouldn’t have known some random Void Worshipper would portal us all to a distant sector of the galaxy.”
“Does it bother you that he’s a Void Worshipper?” Vomero asked.
I gave him what I hoped was a blank and unreadable expression.
“Does it bother you?” I asked in return.
“Not particularly,” Vomero said. “I tend to take things at face value until I’m given a concrete reason to do otherwise. So far, Matthew, despite his sinister sounding affiliations, seems to be more hapless than harmful.”
I just nodded and turned my attention back toward the hole in the floor, hoping he’d drop the subject.
“But then again,” he said, obviously not dropping the subject, “I’m not a Zodian.”
I looked sharply at Vomero. It made sense that he might have an idea of my heritage and abilities. He’d witnessed me use my most powerful attack in the Triton fight.
“I know what a Zodian is, Skye,” he said, correctly guessing my train of thought. “You guys aren’t exactly a secret society. I’ve met several Zodians before. They all had tattoos similar to yours, called on their stellar deities for power, and whispered the word ‘void’ like it was a bad omen. Not you though. You seem okay accepting Matthew despite what must be ingrained mistrust.”
“Matthew’s kind have always been more myth than reality to me, to most of my people, actually,” I said, dismissively. “And I don’t currently have the luxury of letting untested prejudices turn potential allies into enemies. There seems to be plenty of those going around as it is.”
“Fair enough,” he replied and turned his attention back toward the strange contraption in the floor. “None of the ship’s systems provide any information on what this is or how it works. In fact, I think the only reason the ship even listed it under power supply sources in the first place was because of the severe shortage we experienced during the attack.”
“So, it wasn’t meant to be noticed,” I said. “It wasn’t catalogued at all in the ship’s system manifest. So what? The ship was searching for alternate power sources available and happened to find it?”
"Basically,” Vomero said. “I think it only found it by accident while doing a comprehensive search for alternatives because the ship was going into complete failure.”
“Man, it really drives home just how close to death we were.”
Vomero just nodded solemnly before continuing with his findings.
“After testing every inherent ability I have on this system, I can only conclude that this system runs itself using some type of energy that is not electromagnetic based.”
“Which as we guessed, might mean organic or biological,” I reiterated.
“Yes, but it could also be a completely unknown type of energy we don’t understand.”
I found that unlikely. Why would someone develop a new type of energy and use it to power whatever system this was but then stick it in the bottom of a cargo hold on an unguarded mid-level transport. It didn’t seem like the smartest business move. To me, it was much more likely that the power source was biological, but that still left the question of why this elaborate system was necessary.
“If we assume it’s biological,” I asked Vomero, “how would we test that? More importantly, what would that indicate this whole system is for?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Normally, I would say something of this complexity is mean to keep whatever is in the containment chamber stable or alive,” he said. “But it doesn’t really make sense that whatever is inside is powering its own life support system.”
“Well if it’s not being used to keep whatever it is alive, maybe it’s being used to keep it suppressed? Or in stasis? I’ll be honest, except for the small size, this central chamber looks a lot like a cryo-sleep capsule.”
Many civilizations throughout the galaxy used some form of cryo-sleep to preserve species, prolong life, or forestall death until medical advancements could be made. In ancient times, when the galaxy had felt much more vast and unexplored, crude forms of cryo-sleep were used to let space explorers expand their typical life span so they could travel vast distances at sub-light speed.
“Hmm...you’ve got a point,” Vomero said. “I’ve never heard of these being biologically powered, but if whatever is inside produces enough inherent energy to make the system self-sustaining, that would be reason enough to engineer it this way. Then whoever put it in here would be certain that any interruptions of power or a cursory system scan wouldn’t interfere with it.”
“That would especially be true if you believed there was a chance someone would try to attack the transport and steal it for themselves,” I said.
“Yeah, like a safeguard in case that happened.”
“Unfortunately, none of that answers how we remove it or figure out what it is and what it’s worth,” I said. “I guess we could just break it open and see what happens.”
“Not your best idea,” Vomero said with a teasing grin. “Let’s take the thing we think someone went to great lengths to keep contained and suppressed and just bust it out.”
“Fair enough, but I’m keeping it open as an option,” I joked.
Vomero chuckled and stared at the frosted glass of the containment unit.
“Sometimes it pulses with light at night,” he said, quietly.
“Wait, you’ve been sleeping with it?” I said in mock horror. “That’s more disturbing than the pulsing.”
He gave me a sarcastic look as he replied, “I haven’t been sleeping with it. I’ve been sleeping in here, okay? Nothing strange or obsessive like you make it sound!”
“Suuure, but if you start forgetting large chunks of time and people start turning up dead, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Please,” he said with a snort of derision, “this isn’t some body snatcher, pod person scenario from an antique, cheesy sci-fi flick.”
I pushed myself to my feet and offered my hand to help Vomero up. Resting my hand on his shoulder, I walked toward the door next to him.
“You know, way stranger stuff happens across the galaxy than those ancient sci-fi fantasizers could have ever imagined,” I pointed out. “So, I wouldn’t write what’s in them off as an impossibility.”
Vomero looked over his shoulder at the cargo bay floor, then back to me.
“Maybe I’ll find another place to sleep.”
* * *
Later that evening, all six of us were at the Merry Mermaid celebrating. Most of us had good fortune in our tasks for the day, but that wasn’t the cause for celebratory drinks.
Owen had showed up around mid morning for our response. Perhaps my Sagittari charm, or silver tongue as Ascella called it, was finally back up to par because he had agreed to our counter offer of clearance instead of compensation as a show of his employer’s good will.
That afternoon, just as everyone was returning to the ship from their various errands, Sarek, the port administrator, arrived to tell us our verifications had come through and we were all cleared for travel once our debts were paid. Even the hefty bill she left with us couldn’t dampen our spirits.
We still had to keep the bracelets, however, until we left port. She assured us they would no longer track our movements, not that we believed it. My experience with the Syreni government was that they weren’t above violating their own citizens’ civil liberties, so I had no doubt they would do the same to ours.
For the moment, we were all content to share a drink and celebrate our small victories while we had the chance. Everyone also took the opportunity to catch up on the day’s endeavors.
“So, did you and Vomero make progress with our cargo?” Dick asked me.
“We determined that there’s no way that thing is coming out without just ripping out the container,” I said. “And we think it’s highly prudent that we understand what we’re dealing with before doing that.”
“All right well that was a dead end,” Dick said. “Fortunately, I had much better luck securing the last few items on our repair list. It cost us though. With so many shops closing down, supply was short and our demand was high. I think with a few days’ work, Vomero and I can have the ship functioning at full capacity. Then, it’s just a matter of making sure all the holes are patched.”
“I can help out with that,” Cash said. “Ryuuk was able to help me get a lead on the assassin, but there’s not much I can do about it right now. I’m pretty sure I know who I’m dealing with. Some small timer, she was probably looking to make a name for herself or, as I first suspected, mistook my arrival as a threat to her mission.”
“So, are you just going to let it go?” I asked. “Chalk it up to office drama and move on?”
“Hell no,” Cash replied. “She probably knows better than anyone that I can’t let it slide. She had her one free shot and missed. I can neither respect nor accept that. Next time, and there will be a next time, I’ll be shooting back. And I don’t miss.”
“The conundrum is that we looked every which way today and couldn’t find hide nor hair of her,” Ryuuk said. “She’s done gone to ground, I suspect. Hidin’ in the bushes like a dog that done got kicked by the bull.”
“Or a dog afraid of getting kicked by the bull,” I said. “Although, to be fair, I didn’t leave her in the best condition.”
A thought occurred to me, and I turned to Ryuuk.
“Speaking of that, how come you’re all set to help Cash track down this woman so he can kill her but when it was me, it was all ‘the law’s the law, Skye!’” I challenged, doing a bad imitation of his accent.
“You were gonna shoot an injured and unarmed woman in the head,” he said. “What Cash has planned is more like a good ole’ showdown. And there’s nothin’ wrong with defeating your enemy in a head to head battle.”
“She was only unarmed because I unarmed her!” I said in frustration. “And the good ole’ head to head battle happened before you got there.”
“You two can literally bicker about this for days,” Dick said. “So not to change the subject, but also to completely change the subject, what details did Owen give us about the mission?”
“Not as much detail as I’d like,” Vomero answered. “I don’t like blindly accomplishing a task without understanding the big picture and the motivations behind it. You all know I’m not above breaking the law, but when I do, I prefer to know it’s for a cause I believe in.”
“You think he was lying about the whole political coup thing?” Cash asked, lowering his voice and checking to make sure nobody was taking an interest in our conversation.
“Who can say without knowing who we are dealing with?” I said. “But we did get some information to start making preparations. I’d rather discuss it back at the ship, though.”
Everyone nodded agreement. Several minutes later, Perl delivered our food. We each expressed our gratitude and paid compliments to her cooking. She glowed under the praise and blushed under Dick’s admiration.
I dug into my sea urchin pie with a moan of satisfaction. The woman could cook. Dick was staring at me with an eyebrow raised suggestively at my behavior. I was about to rebuff him with a sarcastic remark when the bar suddenly fell silent.
Four enforcers had entered the front door and were striding purposefully toward the bar. The silence that had befallen the establishment made it easy to pick out their conversation with Merl, even from where we sat in a corner.
“There have been reports that this establishment is being used as a gathering place for those who would spread slander against the crown and threaten insurrection,” an enforcer read from an official looking tablet in his hand.
“That’s ridiculous,” Merl said. “Nobody here is planning any insurrections of any type.”
We all looked at each other, clearly wondering if our mission had anything to do with this.
“Sir, witnesses reported hearing several patrons of your bar, including your own wife, calling the queen’s actions quote, ‘treason’ and ‘blasphemy.’ Witnesses reported nearly being involved in physical altercations when expressing support for the crown’s political policy, after which they were discriminated against and forced to vacate the establishment,” the enforcer continued.
This was about what Perl had said yesterday regarding the queen’s attack on Mandala. There had been several heated discussions among different factions in the bar, after which Merl had asked anyone who couldn’t drink peacefully to leave. It seems those loyal to the queen hadn’t been able to let it go and were looking to get revenge on the bar and its owners.
“That’s not accurate at all!” Merl said, getting heated. “Everyone in this bar has a right to their opinions, but when they get out of hand and start causing an issue, I ask them to leave. That’s always true, no matter what the topic is.”
“Sir, given the current socio-political turmoil, the queen has declared new policies regarding certain actions that can be deemed as acts of insurrection and/or terrorism,” the enforcer said. “I’m afraid we will have to shut your establishment down.”
Sounds of descension rumbled through the bar as loyal patrons indicated their displeasure. The other enforcers spread out and put hands on their weapons to indicate they would entertain no arguments about their orders. The talkative enforcer pulled out a document and handed it to Merl.
“This is a notice that your business license has been revoked,” he said, then took out a second paper and placed it on the bar. “The other is an order of arrest for your wife, Perlak.”
The bar erupted in chaos and people started shouting and crowding closer to the enforcers. Backup entered from the street and began forcefully suppressing the growing ire of the crowd. Merl did his best to grab onto his wife, shouting at the enforcers to let go of her. He swung wildly at the nearest two enforcers who were attempting to strong-arm Perl into some sort of binding mechanism. But all Merl got for his efforts was a taser in the back and a kick from the two guards.
The guard he had punched raised his taser and brought it down on him again, holding it to the older Syreni man despite his lack of movement. He raised it again, obviously looking to take his frustration out on the now helpless Merl. I felt the hair on my neck stand up as an invisible wave of electromagnetic energy pulsed past me. A moment later, the shock stick in the enforcer’s hand seemed to surge and then malfunction, but not before sending a nasty shock down his arm. The sleeve of his shirt sizzled and he clutched his arm.
Several of us looked over at Vomero whose eyes were fixed on the enforcers with dark anger. I shook my head at the others. As much as it pained me, I knew we couldn’t afford to get involved with this fight.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, under the din of chaos and shouting, and in agreement, they began moving toward the exits.
Grabbing Vomero tentatively by the arm, I started pulling him toward the side door. He turned his angry gaze at me.
“I know you want to help them,” I said quietly, “and so do I. But this isn’t the way. If we get locked up in this fight, we don’t have any leverage or connections to get us out. Ever.”
Feeling the tension ease out of his arm, I let go. He huffed a sigh of frustration but motioned for me to lead the way. We were all making our way out of the bar, and I had eyes on most of our crew except for Dick. He had a way of slipping in and out of places unnoticed, so I didn’t worry that he could find his own way out.
Thanks to the extra backup and the advantage the shock sticks provided, the enforcers were winning the fight against the patrons’ bare fists. As we were exiting the door, I felt Vomero pause. There was a brief, minute surge, and a glance back showed all the enforcers’ shock sticks go dead.
The bar erupted in a fresh wave of chaos once again as the angry Syreni citizens seized the opportunity and fought back furiously against their oppressors.