400 and Counting Chapters 1-3

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Chapter 1

“Hitting the Enter key will reformat your hard drive. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

 

—Early 21st Century old-Earth programming prompt

 

“CHECK THE intercept alarm!”

Kratt Balanchine turned to the malfunctioning cryo-rejuv panel. Why did problems always have to come in layers? The eight colonists sleeping on the other side of the cargo bay would be mighty disappointed if they woke up back on Correigo Prime. He shook his head, hitting the unit with the flat of his hand. He had to get this cryo-rejuv back up or no credits would fill the till on this trip. He pulled the panel out, the flashing red light flickering off as he laid it aside.

Thudding in the corridor caused him to look up just as the door burst open.

“This’n’s real! It’s sending us a message this time.” The face disappeared just as fast as it had shown up.

Kratt leaped up, brushing his hands on his chest. He looked over at the eight cryo pods he was transporting and then at the door still standing open.

“Forget the colonists!” Catching the door and flinging himself through, he cursed under his breath. He couldn’t get there fast enough, not with his pilot halfway across the ship already.

Then it hit him what she’d said, and he called out, “Contacting us?”

“Yes, Kratt.” Jarring his attention, the ship’s voice permeated the air. “The message is contacting this ship. However, it is a general message and not specifically aimed at this vessel. I could have already told you this if you would just let me into the rest of the ship. Installing my sensors and speakers only on the bridge, in the corridors, and at other limited locations severely limits my productivity.”

“Crazy machine, I didn’t want you on this ship in the first place. If the new space regs didn’t require you here, I’d rip you out quick as I could get your service panel off.” He glanced at the sensors in the ceiling, one after the other falling behind him as he ran. “At least I got by without the Vid sensors.”

The corridor was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of his feet on the floor, before he heard the warning message-ding he’d insisted on before that cursed machine was insinuated into his private cargo vessel.

“I am only here to help if you need me. Many ships consider me an irreplaceable member of their crews.”

“Not here, baby. Not here. Just keep your sensors off. I can fly this tub just fine without your help.” He rounded the corner and flung open the door to the bridge. His breath coming in gasps, he stopped, his hand on the wall. He looked over his navigator’s shoulder.

“Synrnn.” He touched her lightly. “What’s it look like?” He stepped to the console, trying to interpret the readout even without the visor.

“Strange, Boss,” whispered Synrnn Har-Zahav. “I don’t even believe this.” She reached one hand up, slowly slipping the visor over her head, her eyes still glued on the cryptic displays in front of her. Without looking, she held the info-reader out to him. “And I thought my kibbutz family was odd. You’ll want to check this out. Look for yourself. You’ll not believe me, even if I tell you the truth.”

“Yeah, well, it seems you’re the one being odd. What gives?”

“Boss,” and she turned and thrust the reader up to him, “you’ll see. MegaCorp.”

“Grow up, girl. You know MegaCorp can’t be way out here. They haven’t had true interplanetary flight capabilities since shortly after that big incident hundreds of years ago. You do remember that one, or did you sleep through all your academy classes?”

“Yeah, Boss. I slept through them all. That’s why they stuck me on this boat with you. You’d better be glad they did, too. I’m the one keeping this crate on course. Now, check the visor.”

He grinned at her, well aware how many times he’d told her she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He grabbed the info-reader from her and slapped it to his face.

She laughed as his chin dropped. She already had her hand over the info-comm when his hand blindly waved at the console.

“Patch me through to the Information Retrieval and Communication module. We’ll see if she can at least start to pay her way. She cost enough for us to put in.” He continued to look in the visor, his hand reaching out, touching nothing, his fingers meshing the information in the visor with the reality of his physical world. “Are we patched in, yet?”

“I am here, Kratt,” IRaC inserted into the conversation. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to help. I will certainly try to prove my indispensability to you. How can I help?” The voice modulating throughout the bridge was filled with warmth and helpfulness.

“Quit the niceties, module. Just scan this input. What is that thing out there? It’s sending us a signal, and it looks like MegaCorp. Everyone knows MegaCorp’s interplanetary capability is history lesson fodder. Run through the files and see what’s compatible with this signal. Something out there’s talking to us.”

“Of course, Kratt. I will get it done as you have requested. Thank—”

“Can it. Just download the results to a reader.” He turned to Synrnn. “What do you make of this? It sure looks real, I give you that.” He paused, laying the visor on the console. She picked it up and held it to her face. Then he turned and walked to the door, pausing before exiting the bridge. “That message says starstrike class battle cruiser. Isn’t that the same class as that military ship that disappeared out by that binary star system? Can’t remember the planet’s name. We learned about it at the academy, though.” His hand drummed the wall, his brow furrowed in thought for a moment. With a deep sigh of resignation, he stepped through the door, leaving Synrnn to the signal.

Turning to the empty doorway, she called out, “You’re welcome, Boss. I enjoy working with you, too.” With a laugh, she turned back to the console, the visor already covering her eyes, immersed in the unusual signal being sent her way.

 

Chapter 2

cryo·bi·ol·o·gy (krī-ō-bī-ä′-lə-jē) n. the study of the effect of extremely low temperatures on living things

 

—NewWebster’s Thirty-Seventh Secondary Dictionary

 

“IRAC, WHERE’S that info I requested about that MegaCorp signal?” Kratt reached a hand to the readout panel, tripping a sensor, pulling in a secondary level of signals from the object. “Well?”

“I have downloaded the information you requested to the reader. However, if you prefer, I can put it on the visor, instead. Would you like me to do that for you?”

“Gods, IRaC, you are so conciliatory. Yes, you may put it on the visor, instead. Thank you. Would you please fade away, now?”

“As you please, Kratt. Feel free to use me again.”

He’d throttle that module before they got back to Correigo Prime. He frowned as he watched the information in the visor shift to IRaC’s display. This couldn’t be right. He reached across the board and slapped a comm relay. “Synrnn. Are you there?” He twisted his chair around, his visor-covered face looking at an image only he could see. He yelled out, “Hey, Synrnn!”

“Yeah!” The word unexpectedly barked out of the air just behind him, the humor in its sharpness clearly intentional, causing him to jump, nearly falling over in his chair. He threw the visor off his head.

“Gods, don’t do that to me! How’d I know you were right here? I nearly peed myself.”

Synrnn pushed him back into his seat. “You’d know if you’d turn the comm to send and receive. Are you sure you made that trip from Aregas 4 alone? Maybe you just didn’t want to get some beautiful stowaway in a bucket of muck.” She looked up at the ceiling. “IRaC, did you get that recorded?”

“Thank you, Synrnn. Yes, I did. Is there a particular part you wish me to pay close attention to?”

“The peed part, IRaC. Mark it as priority.” She smirked at Kratt. “Got that, IRaC? Keep it on top of your priority recordings.”

“Yes, Synrnn. I have posted it as you have requested. Will there be anything else?”

“We’re good for now. Thanks.”

“You are most welcome, Synrnn. I am glad to be of service.”

“Glad to have you around, IRaC.” She turned to Kratt. “See, Boss. Be nice to the help, and they’ll be nice to you.” She leaned over him, putting her elbows and forearms across his chest. With her eyes looking directly into his, she intoned, “Important message for Synrnn. Important message for Synrnn.” Standing, she cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”

“How long do you think a power charge could maintain a military emergency escape pod?” He picked up the visor, glancing inside it as he did.

“That depends. A slow-sleep pod or a full cryo model?”

“Either one. Listen. That message. I had IRaC pull some information together.” He thrust the visor at her. “Check this out. The signature is definitely old military, so old it registers as an out-of-date pattern from the MegaCorp military files.”

“It seems I do remember that from those history classes. I didn’t sleep through all my academy lessons. I actually woke up once or twice.” She tapped the visor with her fingernail. “Old MegaCorp military. If we’re talking about the end of the MegaCorp era, they were building pretty good stuff. Let’s see. What were those really big ships called? Star something? I think they were the same class of ship the pod’s message identified itself as hailing from.”

“Starstrike class.”

“Yeah, that’s it. You are a smart one. You probably kept awake the whole seven standards. Starstrike. Yeah, those were some good ships. We still use some of that same technology currently. Of course, we’ve improved on a lot of it, too. Hm. An emergency escape pod. They weren’t used often. No time, and very frowned on by the higher-ups. Too many versions of events that didn’t always support the official military one. I remember reports of a few used for prisonplanet containment. Slow-sleep used more power. Maybe eighty to a hundred standard years. Full cryo barely used any power at all. Easy three twenty-five or three-fifty. Why?”

“These records in the visor? I know that planet now.”

“Quit beating the bush. What are you talking about?”

“There was a binary star system with a habitable planet way out the other side of the arm, name of Rejuvenant. It seems MegaCorp lost a starstrike cruiser there, one with the same signal we’ve been receiving. Guess how long ago.”

“C’mon, Boss. Let me just pull the answer out of the air. Before the dawn of time. Just tell me, for the gods’ sake.”

“Three hundred seventy years. Synrnn, this could really be from that ship.” He grinned. “A little piece of history.”

“Junk history.” She stared at him. “You’re not thinking of pulling that piece of space trash in, are you, Kratt? Three hundred seventy standard years. Full cryo’s not even assured for that long. You could pull in a stinking mess. Even the technology would be so far gone, you’d be lucky to sell it for scrap.”

“Wait before you write me off. It’s still powered. Think. Maybe even a person. Even if they are in cryo-decay, they might have valuables with them.” His eyes pleaded with her skeptical glare. “Remember that pod found over in the Treset sector about seventy standards ago? That old guy was deader’n a powerless jumpship, but he must’ve been some important someone. That or a courier. Salvage on that one set up that crew with a brand new ship. What do you think?”

She snorted, trying to divert his attention back to more practical matters. “Your ship, Boss. Did you ever get the cryo-rejuv up? Those colonists won’t pay if they can’t be brought around and we have to take them back home again. Without their credits, you don’t have much room for error on this run.”

“IRaC’s working on it. She thinks she can run down the problem.” He leaned back and laughed. “Run down the problem. How ironic! She can’t even run. She’s an artificial personality, and she asked me if I’d like her to run down the problem.”

“Boss, you work on that with IRaC.” She turned to exit the bridge, glancing in the visor as if wanting to wish the information away. “Get the colonists up walking, and I’ll check coordinates on that pod. If you want a toy to play with, we’ll round it up for you. Who’d have thought I’d be plying the universe with a twelve-year-old boy?” She rolled her eyes as she walked down the corridor.

He yelled after her, “Fun, isn’t it? It’s the only way to travel. Wahoo!” 


Chapter 3

Take one hardboiled egg.

Rap sharply against a hard surface.

Peel shell away.

Slice egg in half.

Scoop out yolk.

Mix yolk with mayo and onion.

Spoon back into egg.

Serve.

 

—Recipe from an old-Earth cookbook

 

“HEY, PUDZ.” Synrnn leaned against the door. “You and IRaC got that rejuver back up again?” She drummed her fingers against her arm. “Hm?” Walking over to stand over Kratt as he lay prone on the floor, his arms inside an access panel, she grinned. “Or would you like me to take a stab at it?”

“Well, well. It’s the fire brigade to the rescue. Thanks, Synrnn.” He puffed his mouth out, revealing a rising level of frustration. “Like IRaC is helping. What I could really use is a smaller pair of hands to be able to reach into this cursed thing. I can’t get my hands inside and twist at the same time. IRaC’s got me testing each one of these nodes. Twist it out, test it, and twist it back in.” Pausing, he pulled his hands out, flexing his knuckles. “I’m beginning to think this is just busywork to keep me out of the way.”

“You know we all love you, Boss. However,” and she blew onto her fingers, rubbing her nails on her jacket, “I think I’ve come up with something for you. I’ve run some old mech preassembly programs on this cryo-rejuv. Did you know this thing was obsolete even before the Archa’Lades Conflict? In fact, parts have to be custom built anytime these units need repairs.”

“Obsolete is exactly why colonists use them. They’re cheaper to lease. These colonists usually spend the bulk of their credits paying the likes of you and me to get them there. If they were rich, they’d be called tourists.”

“Ha! Good one!” She slapped him sharply on the leg. “Well, I’ve found a setup routine that’s not in IRaC’s data file. I think I’d like to try it and see if I’m as good as I think I am. Wanna move your butt over and let me at the board?”

He looked at her, continuing to twist on a node inside the invisible confines of the access bay. “Give me a chance to force this connection back in place. Then you can have this, and those crazy frozen colonists, too. It always creeps me out to be in here with ’em for this long. An hour or two, no sweat. After a while, though. You know. That creepy gel they’re immersed in. With the lights on, it glows that bilious green color, and my stomach can only take so much. I’d hate to travel in one of those. No air, no nothing.” He shivered as he pulled his hands from the shadowy interior.

“Safer’n us. We get holed, and they go right on until they get picked up.” She walked over and tapped the translucent shell of the cryo pod. “Right near impervious. These are some of the best things they ever came up with for travel across space.”

“Creepy safe, if you ask me. Let’s just get the rejuver up so we can get paid when we get there. Oh, and I want to know about that pod that’s sending us that signal.”

She stepped to the cryo-rejuv and ran her fingers up and down the lighted panel, the dancing of her fingers telling the machine to run through routines long forgotten. With a rapid flickering of status indicators, the machine suddenly went dark.

“Hey! Not even I managed to kill it dead.” He squatted to peer inside the access panel. “Did you break it for good?”

“Patience, moron. I’m not exactly sure, but I think it’s resetting its operating parameters. Hold your breath for a moment and let it play with itself.” Stepping back and looking for signs of life, she let out a sigh of relief when a lone green light blinked on. “Whew! I was actually starting to worry there.” She laughed, kicking Kratt’s boot as ready light after ready light began turning green. “Ha! I am as smart as I thought I was. Get your tail up, and let’s go get us a space toy. No need to babysit these colonists any longer. They’re just credits in our account from here on out.”

Kratt gave her an admiring look. “I’m actually going to admit this, even though I know you’ll hold it over me.” He grinned as he shook his head back and forth. “But you deserve it this time. You’re good.”

“You know it, Boss. I thought that’s why you hired me on.”

“Well, that and those long legs. Maybe mostly those long legs.”

“Watch it. You’ll steal a girl’s heart with that sweet-talking. Can’t be too careful, now.” She leaned over and pinched his cheek. “Now, let’s go get you that space toy.” She walked out the door, leaving him sitting on the floor.

He looked around the room, reached over, and clicked the access door shut. A quick glance at the eight cryo pods was enough to give him a shudder and a reason to exit the room as quickly as possible. “Good night, and sleep tight,” he muttered as he jumped to his feet, letting the light wink off as he headed out the door.

 

“CAN WE PULL it alongside without compromising our flight path?” Kratt stared into the visor, the virtual world inside as real to him as the one he could touch around him. “IRaC, put this up for Synrnn to see, also.”

Synrnn murmured something she had learned about the old MegaCorp escape pods. “These pods were designed for easy retrieval, self-guidance systems and all. This is just so far out from everything that if this is truly what that signal says it is, the sensors may not have had enough reference points to triangulate. IRaC, what do you think? Will it be safe enough to pull in?” She glanced at Kratt with a grin. “I wouldn’t want the ship to blow a seal doing this.” She was pleased to see Kratt’s hand jerk the visor up, his eyes darting her direction. They both looked up at the two-dimensional display on the wall as IRaC replied.

“I foresee no real problems with retrieving the pod, Synrnn. I can recalibrate the magnetic grappling arm for tight-beam focus, and by matching velocities as we intersect its trajectory, we should be able to easily divert it. Keeping it in tow will add little drain to our power supplies, allowing us to operate well within acceptable margins. However, if Kratt wishes to bring the cryo pod aboard, I will need to recalculate the risk assessment. Would you like me to begin that now?”

Kratt interrupted the little tête-à-tête. “Later, girl. Synrnn, you know I want this on board. Wow, starstrike cruiser! This is the stuff of prehistory.” He grinned and rubbed his hands in glee. “I do feel like a twelve-year-old with a new toy just waiting to be unwrapped. I can hardly wait.” He jumped up. “Let’s go get some grub. We have hours before that pod’ll be in range. IRaC can keep track of our course corrections for a while, can’t you, machine?”

“Thank you, Kratt. That is within my design parameters. I will monitor the location of the signal and adjust course accordingly. Thank you for requesting my help. Please enjoy your meal.”

 

KRATT THREW one long leg over the back of the stool, expertly sliding the tray of food onto the table. He watched Synrnn take a few bites, and then he pushed his plate back.

“You know, I’ve been on this tub for years. Every time I’m hungry, I get so juiced up about a good meal, and then when I get it, I wish I hadn’t.” He grabbed the edge of her tray, jiggling it back and forth. “Hey, Synrnn. How about you? Do you think that personality module we took on board could help out in this area, like maybe actually prepare food instead of mush?”

She looked at him over a bite of her meal and just smiled as a voice replied.

“I am sorry, Kratt. I would like to be able to adjust your meals for taste and preference. However, please remember I am in minimum install mode, and while I will be glad to provide whatever services I am capable of, I am bound to the parameters you chose to purchase.”

“Crikes! I’m being lectured by an artificial personality, a machine, by dog!” He grinned at Synrnn. “I guess I just have to take my lumps.” One hand stirred the mixture on his tray. “Literally.” A first bite bringing on a grimace, he cut his eyes to Synrnn’s response.

“Dog, Boss? Been back reviewing your old-Earth files? Besides, you’re just a big baby. You do it to yourself. I tried to tell you the full install was only marginally more when you purchased IRaC. You didn’t want her, and now you’re beating yourself up about what she can’t do. It’ll cost you, but you can always get the upgrade next time we’re in port.”

“Kratt,” IRaC’s modulated voice floated over them, “me being in minimum install mode will give you the chance to see what features you might like added to my personality. Waiting might not be such a bad idea. I will keep a list for you if you would like.”

“Sure thing, IRaC. You keep a list, and we’ll see what we can do. First on that list of yours, cooks great meals. Can you do that?”

“It is already there. Synrnn, I can make a list for you also, if you wish.”

She laughed out loud. “Ha! That’s fine, IRaC. Just keep Kratt’s list. He’ll come up with ideas for us both.” Turning to him she whispered, “I think you’ve won her heart, Boss, you old womanizer, you.” She laughed again as the personality module responded.

“Yes, Synrnn, Kratt has ‘won my heart’ as you say. That is within my working parameters. I always wish to please in whatever way I can.”

Synrnn threw her head back and laughed as she tossed her tray into the recycle slot, watching Kratt sink farther and farther into his seat at the machine’s words.

 

SYNRNN’S EYES flew open at the sound of Kratt beating several times on her door.

“Come on, Synrnn. It’s Christmas time.” The sound of his footsteps disappeared down the corridor without waiting on her response.

Leaping to her feet, she flung open the door, yelling, “I thought you didn’t believe in religious holidays.”

She listened to the sound of his words as they echoed back. “For this cryo pod, I’ll believe in anything. Even IRaC as a beautiful woman!”

“Thank you, Kratt,” the machine’s melodious voice floated through the corridor.

Synrnn smiled as she pulled a top over her head and walked down the passageway. This was going to be a good waking cycle, and even IRaC was at the top of her form. At the bridge, she leaned her head in and poked Kratt’s shoulder.

“You need me more here or at cargo?”

His hand waved to her. “Meet me at Cargo 4. I’m getting IRaC set up with drive sequences, then I’ll be there to suit up. You can go ahead and suit up if you want.”

“Gotcha, Boss.” She swung herself out and down the corridor, the lighting blinking on and off as she triggered the sensors. She shivered under her clothing, although the ship wasn’t really cold, as she came up to Cargo 4. Pressing her hand to the sensor, then rotating her palm, she triggered the door to cycle open, stepping inside. Gods, I love this, she thought, as she floated off into the vastness of the bay. The one big space on the ship, and hardly ever a reason to come here between ports.

She drew herself into a ball and launched into the space, a much practiced double backflip unwinding just as her hand encircled the grab bar by her exosuit. Touching the clasp at the throat, she let the suit peel itself back before lying back onto the exposed interior. Sensing she was completely inside, the suit wrapped back around her, the powerpack disengaging from the bay wall, releasing her to freefall. This was the way to travel. She was going to be glad Kratt had sprung for these suits. The latest thing, and expensive, too. All she had to do was act like she wanted to go a certain direction, and the suit jets fired up, the internal algorithms calculating how fast and how far.

“IRaC, displays up.” When there was no change, she realized she’d forgotten this one detail. Her exosuit needed to be calibrated to the new personality module. Seeing the corridor door open, she nudged her suit mike. “Boss, have IRaC reroute the displays and vocals to the suit screens. Also, have her connect with my exosuit. She should be able to find my frequency easily enough.”

He gave a thumbs-up sign, hitting the comm switch on the wall. “Should be pulling up as we speak.”

She smiled as she saw the edges of her faceplate begin to mist with scrolling displays. Not quite the virtual world of the visor, at full res she would see the bay as a ghost world within her displays. Toned down at present, the virtual displays kept themselves to the edges of her world, easy enough to tune out.

She saw Kratt’s suit enclose itself around him as he launched from the wall. She knew he was in business mode as his voice rang out, “Magnetic grappler on.” Her stomach twisted, and the displays in her faceplate doubled. They slowly resolved back to their original rendition as the power surge hurtled through the cargo bay.

“Gods, Boss. I always forget.”

“You haven’t forgotten, Synrnn. It’s the recalibration. When IRaC tightened that magnetic beam, she routed it all right through there. We were already on a potent spike, and this is exponentially more powerful. Nothing else’ll pull that pod in. Get ready to open the bay doors. Strapped in?”

“As we speak, Boss.” She backed up to one of the mechanical grapplers, allowing a tether to latch to her suit. When the tether light in her suit display turned a friendly green, she moved forward.

“Extract air, IRaC.” Kratt’s voice rang in her suit. “Bay doors open.”

She moved forward, this unimpeded view one she’d trade her mother for: the blackness of the heavens counterbalanced by the pinpoint brilliance of the stars. No matter what they told ’em back at the academy, space was a jeweled velvet cape with all the colors of the rainbow. Those groundies just needed to get out here and see the real world as she saw it now. This never transposed onto Vidpics, but she knew she wasn’t the only one who saw it. Spacers spoke of it, although only in quiet whispers to each other.

“Synrnn. Psst, Synrnn. Come back to the bay. It’s tough. I feel the same way every time. Just pull back. Focus on your faceplate displays. IRaC, pull Synrnn’s displays up to sixty percent.”

“I am bringing it up now, Kratt.”

“Thanks, IRaC. Better, Synrnn?”

She shook her head, not wanting to let go of the sensuousness of the moment. “I’m good, Boss. I just need to bleed a little adrenalin. Let me haul a deep breath or two.”

“That’s a good girl. It hits me hard every time, too. I always think I’m over it, and I have to come out with my faceplate on full res just to be able to think. I’d wonder about you if you didn’t do this every time, wonder if you’re a real spacer or not. Ready to proceed?” He waved a suited arm at her.

“Let’s go, Boss. IRaC, drop the res to twenty. I want the center of my faceplate clear. I want to see the boss’s toy when it comes into view.” She laughed to herself. The boss’s toy. How many boys got to play ball in the vast reaches of space? Just Kratt. What a lucky girl she was to have snagged this berth on this ship! Gods, she was having fun!

“Kratt, Synrnn, the object is within grappler range. Be prepared for contact. There will be a jolt to this ship. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Contact.”

The entire bay lurched as the magnetic grappler made contact with the cryo pod flinging itself along its track through space; and it wrenched the pod out of its trajectory, forcing it to dutifully trot in the wake of its new master.

“Kratt, Synrnn, are you okay?”

“Didn’t feel a thing. Thank the universe for zero gee. Life is good, IRaC.” The enthusiasm belonged to Kratt.

“Fine, IRaC. Thanks.” Synrnn made sure to be polite, even if it was to a fault.

“I am glad to hear that. I would hate to have initiated a procedure that resulted in your harm. How close would you like me to bring the pod?”

Excitement bubbling in his voice, Kratt blasted, “I want to see it, IRaC. Get it at least that close.”

“The power is ramping up. I am pulling near-maximum without drawing down the reserves. I would like to proceed cautiously, Kratt. Is that acceptable with you?”

“Yeah, sure. How long ’til we see it?”

“Perhaps . . . about now. Can you locate it, Kratt?”

“Flaming stars, there it is! Synrnn, catch a sight of that. It’s real. That’s the real thing.” They watched as it grew larger. “Gods, it’s been out here a long time. Look at that. It’s burnt black on one side. There! There, Synrnn! Right on the side. It says it! MegaCorp. Wow! External mechanical grapplers ready, IRaC. Synrnn, man those on the far side of the door. I’ll get these.”

Synrnn did her jetted spacewalk as fast as her suit would take her in the relative confines of Cargo 4 bay. “Pushy, pushy. It’ll still be there in five. I’ll tell you what, Boss.” She turned to face him.

“What?”

“I’ll wo-man them for you. How ’bout that, Boss?”

He laughed. “Fine. You wo-man them for me, and we’ll call it even. I just want that pod in this hold.”

“Trigger the mechanical grapplers now.” IRaC’s voice rang insistently in their suits. “There is no time to delay. The pod will pass us by if we do not hold on to it. It is coming in too fast and will slip from the grasp of the magnetic grappler within a few moments. Pulling it in this closely this quickly is more than the magnetic grappler tolerances will allow. We do not want to lose it.”

“Ready, Boss.” Synrnn slapped the panel to ready, the lights tripping to green.

“Go on my mark, Synrnn. Ready. Set. Mark.” The grapplers flung themselves from the ship, the distant thunk of attaching to the pod felt rather than heard. “Pull her in, IRaC.”

“My pleasure, Kratt. I am glad I have been able to help you pull in your toy.”

“You’re welcome. You know, I may even fall in love with you after all, old girl.” He grinned and winked at Synrnn through his faceplate, as she shot him a thumbs-up hand signal.

“Nothing would please me more,” IRaC crooned back.

 

“GODS, BOSS. This pod’s a mess.” Synrnn ran her hand over the pitted and scarred surface. “Are you sure you want to take up space with this?”

“We’ve got the space. Besides, check this out.” He floated over to a blackened panel and brushed it with a cloth. “Here’s something.” He spat on the cloth, rubbing vigorously to reveal what was underneath.

“Boss, let’s get this back into the gravity well. This zero gee is great for playtime, but it’s hard to work in.” She swam back to her suit dock, hitting the seal sensor, nodding satisfactorily as the high-tech suit sealed itself for recharge and the light flipped from orange to green. “I’m cycling out. Play with your toy awhile, then come back inside. Wipe your feet when you do. Wouldn’t want to get any dirt tracked into the house.”

She nodded to him as he waved her off, his efforts at polishing the panel sending his legs comically parallel to the floor. Machines and boys. That’s a mix that’d never change. She whistled to herself as the ship’s gravity pulled her feet back to a direction they recognized as down.

 

“IRAC, CAN you access any of the data from this pod?” Synrnn circled the salvaged pod, occasionally stopping to touch it on the surface.

“I am trying, Synrnn. The transponder signal is all that is coming through at this time. There is a three-century lag in technology. I will keep trying.”

“Thank you, IRaC.” She rubbed a series of pits in the curve of the pod, tracing them with a finger. Centuries of microscopic collisions. Could anyone be in there? She glanced at the pods protecting the colonists, noting their perfect unscarred and translucent surfaces. This one they’d dragged in was of a totally different design. Opaque. Military, beyond question. The scarring didn’t help, either.

“Ah, Synrnn. Enjoying the company of the dead, huh?” Kratt’s head appeared in the doorway.

“Don’t know, Boss. Just thinking.”

“Trust me. No matter what we find in that cryo pod, you are in the company of dead people. Anyone who travels in green goop, well, that seems to me as good as dead. Ugh!”

“Boss, you are afflicted with morosity. It seeps from you all over this ship. Just give me time to work on this. IRaC?”

“Yes, Synrnn.”

“Can you access that file I asked you to find?”

“I have it up now.”

“Good. It’s an old military file, right?”

“Yes, Synrnn. The encryption code has long since been broken. It is fully accessible.”

“Excellent. I seem to recall seeing a section in there about maintenance on these pods. Feed those algorithms to this pod, and let’s see if we can get a response.” She turned to a noise from the door. “No! Absolutely not, Kratt!”

He held a metal bar, flattened on one end. An outsized mallet was also in his hand.

“It’s ours, Synrnn. This’ll get us inside.”

“Boss, you’ve got to let me work this. I’m good at this. Give me some time, and then have a go with your mallet and pry bar. I’ll get this opened. I wish I could see inside, though. They always opaqued these old military pods.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the pod, blocking his access to the old relic. “I was on a prisonplanet once. Rant, I think. Well, on the station that orbits above it, anyway. They wouldn’t let me downsides to the surface, not that I minded about that. There’d been a breakout attempt. It seems like a couple of the inmates had escaped, stolen a transport or something. They finally captured them, but that’s the time I saw these pods being used as containment for incorrigibles. All of those were like this except they had triple security voice locks on them. This one seems to just have an environment lock on it, at least as far as I can tell. Boss, what could have blasted the side of this pod like this? Under all this black, the surface is melted.”

“Who cares? You as good as said anyone inside would already be in cryo-decay, and the technology would be worthless. Let me break the bank, Synrnn. You can play with the onboard systems just as well with the thing cracked wide.” He walked the circumference of the pod, his eyes glancing back to the glowing pods the colonists were in. “Four hundred years.” He nodded at Synrnn, tapping the pod’s surface with his mallet.

“Three seventy, Boss. That battleship disappeared three hundred seventy standard years ago.” She moved to stand in his way, separating him from the scarred orb.

“The person inside would be four hundred, if he’s a cycle.”

“Yeah, but not really. Besides, you want to break in. Four hundred and very dead if you use that mallet to bypass the seal.” She leaned against the pod’s side, looking him in the face. “Cryo is a full stop, Boss. They’d still be twenty-five or thirty, or however old they were when they went inside.”

“Synrnn, Kratt.”

They both looked up as if to find IRaC on the ceiling. Kratt started, his eyes opening wide, as if just realizing the artificial personality was speaking with them in an area outside her installed parameters. “Dang it, IRaC! How’re you doing that? You don’t have any sensors in here.” He turned his head to Synrnn to see her split a grin. “Wha—”

“Kratt, Synrnn patched me into the secondary comm system. I now have full access to all areas of the ship. Of course, I am auditory only, but Synrnn and I are working on a patch into the ship’s optical sensors. Would you rather we did not?”

“It’s like I’m being conspired against. No, IRaC, this is fine. I actually like having you in here. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” He dropped his proposed break-in tools on the floor, the items clattering noisily, then paused, running a hand across his head.

“I apologize, Kratt. You should have been told. Would you like to be informed of such activities in the future?”

“Yes. No. Um, I’m not sure, IRaC. It’s just . . . let me think about it, okay?”

“I understand. I will monitor your daily input and attempt to determine an optimal time to revisit the question. Will that be acceptable to you?”

“Sure. That’ll work. Thanks for being so understanding.” He glanced around at the empty walls, just Synrnn watching him, an amused look on her face. “What am I saying, thanking a personality module for being understanding? I’m turning into a loony.”

“Already there,” Synrnn said under her breath.

“I agree with you, Synrnn,” softly washed IRaC’s melodious voice.

Kratt turned at the words. “What was that, Synrnn?”

“That’s between me and IRaC. Never you mind.”

Suddenly a sharp snap and hiss yanked the attention of both Kratt and Synrnn to the mysterious pod.

“IRaC, did you do that?”

“I am sorry, Kratt. I had nothing to do with that. I am monitoring the situation as closely as I can.”

They turned to look at each other, then back to the pod. Together they began to search its space-scarred surface for evidence of the noise.

“Do you smell anything strange, Boss? Anything that smells suspicious, or,” and Synrnn made a face, “perhaps rotten?” Dead was what she meant.

“Not that I can tell. Come over here. I want you to see this.”

As she walked around, she saw Kratt running his hands down the heat-slagged surface of the pod.

“This looks like it might have been a seam. This dark streak, right here. Look at that panel I was cleaning earlier. Has it changed?”

“Like what?”

“It seemed to be glowing a faint orange before. On the modern pods, that indicates atmospheric instability detected. The colonists’ pods won’t open under an orange code. See what it looks like now.”

“Green? I think maybe green. It’s pretty faint.”

“Get me that pry bar, Synrnn.”

“Boss!”

“He is right, Synrnn. The signal from the pod has changed. It needs to be opened now. If anyone is alive inside, they will not be much longer unless access and retrieval is achieved.”

Leaping to the pry bar and mallet, Synrnn kicked them over to Kratt. “Quick, Boss. You were right. Crack ’er like an egg. Let’s whip up an omelet.” She laughed. “I’ll get the cryo-rejuv online just in case the little chicken isn’t already spoiled.”

Grabbing the pry bar and placing it along the slagged seam, Kratt began whacking it with the mallet. Over and over the sound rang through the room. His clothing growing damp with sweat, he gasped and wiped his face on his sleeve. Handing the tool to Synrnn, he put his hands on his knees and stood panting.

“Let a real man do it, Boss. A wo-man.” She worked around the opening, driving the slagged seam apart. “I think I’ve just about got it. Help me rock the far side to see if we can jar it loose. Ready?”

“Let me get over there.” Placing his hands on the blackened face of the pod, he counted, “One. Two. Three!” With a shove they began to rock the panel until it shifted, giving them room get the pry bar underneath. As they did, cold fog began to seep from around the crack.

“Quick, Boss. That’s a sign of cryo-breach. We’ll only have a few moments to start resuscitation. Work it with the bar.”

“I am, Synrnn. You try it!”

“Kratt, Synrnn, the pod is sending a system failure message. It is critical to evacuate the contents now.”

“Thank you,” Synrnn yelled at no one in particular. “Boss, I’m getting the ripper.” She yanked open a stor’lok, grabbed a large tool, and slammed the end into a socket on the wall. “Move aside. This can opener will do some damage.”

Backing up, Kratt watched her do one of the things he most appreciated about her. With the tip of the tool in the exposed seam, she hit the power, and he watched the metal fly. Throwing the panel off, exposing a glassine panel in the darkened interior, he put his face close and took a deep breath. “Smells fine, Synrnn. Open the rejuv socket.”

“No rotted meat, huh?” She let the ripper fall deafeningly to the floor.

He danced over and yanked the connector from the cryo-rejuv. Dragging it over and plugging it in, he leaned back on the pod, panting. “Got it! IRaC, can we take time to check the reading, now?”

“I currently have full access to the pod. Thank you, Kratt. Well done, Synrnn. I will run diagnostics and see what you have found. Give me a moment.” A steady hum started from the direction of the rejuver, and as they watched, the interior of the pod began to glow.

“Yellow? Whoever heard of yellow cryo gel?”

“Chill, Boss. We’ve only had green for the last hundred and fifty standard years, one seventy tops. This is old military.” She ran her hand along the inside of the opening until she felt a notch. “There,” she said with satisfaction. “I knew it should be here.” She stepped back as a row of indicators blinked on, only the final one gleaming an ominous red. She peered at it, a frown on her face. “Not good, Boss. This is certainly not good. Check the rejuver. See if it gives us any suggestions.” She tapped the red light. “Green, please. I need green.”

“One indicator here also showing red. It says life-force regeneration isn’t powering up. Life-force regeneration means there is someone inside. We may have to pull whoever it is from the pod. Can we do that? Safely?”

“Never did that, Boss. Maybe we’ll find out. Maybe we can drop ’em into a medbath. IRaC? Have you been listening?”

“Of course, Synrnn. How can I help?”

“Run the stats on a medbath. See if the parameters are sufficient to bring someone out of full cryo. Stat. We’ve gotta transfer now. Boss, I’m taking the assumption we can do this. It’s going to be the only way. I’m heading out to pick up a medbath and get it back here.” She was gone before he could answer.

“IRaC, will it work?”

“There may be a chance, Kratt. I am running the simulation now. Current projections for success hover at slightly under sixty percent.”

“Keep at it, IRaC. It looks like that’s the only way we might keep this person alive.”

 

“MEDBATH. Let me see.”

Synrnn counted down the wall and popped the correct stor’lok door aside, reaching inside for the portable trauma device. It was designed to handle the most devastating physical injury imaginable. Anything short of decapitation was theoretically within the repair ability of a medbath. Grabbing coldpaks, gloves, and a medkit, she threw them into the medbath unit.

“IRaC, is there any way I can start this to get it ready faster?”

“Get it to the bay, Synrnn. I will guide you from there. This was good thinking. I am running simulations using the bath right now. I am currently projecting a seventy-eight percent probability of success.”

“Thank you, IRaC. I’m on my way.” She strapped the bath on a portable gurney, her time back to the bay disappearing as fast as its wheels would turn. Clipping the door, she flew the gurney inside. “Boss?”

Following a muffled, “Bring it over here,” she saw his head deep in the pod. “We’ve got to get him out, and I do mean him, and into that medbath. The gel’s already softened, and none of his systems are up and functional yet.” He pulled out of the pod, his arms covered with the yellow gel. “It’s making my arms numb, even inert like this. It still creeps me out thinking of getting in one of these intentionally.” He shivered, looking over what Synrnn had brought with her. “Good. Coldpaks. He’ll need that. Clear the bed and help me move him. Use gloves if you brought ’em. We’ll need someone who can still work her fingers.”

Snapping the gloves on, she reached in to help pull the body out. “How’d you know it’s a man?”

“He’s in uniform. MegaCorp. Not high up, but still a man’s. You’ll see.”

As they began to lift him, she cursed her sloppiness out loud as her arm brushed some of the gel away from the body.

IRaC’s voice rang out, “Keep the gel on him, Synrnn. There is still life left in it. In my simulations, success falls to less than thirty-two percent without it.”

“I’ll be more careful, IRaC.” Aside, she turned to Kratt. “You hear that? Now my mother’s aboard with us.”

“You do want to keep him alive, Synrnn. Am I correct?”

“Yes, IRaC. I stand chastised. I’ll be more careful.”

“Thank you, Synrnn. As soon as you have him loaded, fill the medbath with as much gel as you can. Close it and apply the coldpaks. Then roll him to the medcenter. After only a short time with no cryo support, projected success for resuscitation will start to drop exponentially.”

“Got it, IRaC. Boss, let’s move him.” Four arms reached deep into the cryo gel, pulling the fetally-curled body from deep within, shifting him to the medbath. Quickly dumping in as much of the gel as they could reach, the man was sealed inside.

“Hit the road, Synrnn. Let’s get this buggy parked and the horses unhitched. It’s time to kiss the bride.”

“Ha! Boss, you can still make me laugh, even under circumstances like these. Where you come up with this stuff, I’ll never figure out. Now, let’s get to the medbay and kiss the bride, whatever that means.” She ran behind him, guiding the rear of the gurney, keeping the trip as concise as possible.

“Synrnn, Kratt, probability of success now stands at seventy-three percent and falling. Please hurry.” IRaC’s voice followed them down the corridor.

“Go, Boss.” As the gurney rounded the door into the medbay, Kratt slapped the access panel to the medical table. As the glassine door raised and the table slid out, he guided the gurney up to it. They slid the medbath onto the table, plugging the bath into each end. Hitting the access panel once again, they both stood back and watched the table slide back into the wall, the glassine slipping down, the chamber sealing itself.

“How’d we do, IRaC?”

“I now estimate successful resuscitation at eighty-one percent and rising, allowing for eighteen to twenty-three shipboard cycles within the medbath. I have recalibrated the medbath specifically for attempted cryo-rejuv. From the readings I am already getting from the medbath, apparent cryo-decay had set in even before pod retrieval. Damage seems to be consistent with gradual power loss in cryo maintenance systems in the pod. I should be able to adjust settings in the medbath to compensate. I am readjusting my estimate for success to eighty-seven percent. Would you like to receive regular updates on the subject’s progress?”

Kratt looked at Synrnn with a grin. “I guess that means we did all right.” Louder, “Thanks, IRaC, and yes.”

“I am glad I could be of help to you, Kratt.”

He motioned to Synrnn. “C’mon. Lunch is on me.”

“You do know how to woo a girl, Boss. I’ll take you up on that. Give me just a moment, though. I’ll meet you there.” She stepped to the glassine panel, the medbath inside infused with a glow of photonic healing compounds. Planetside weeks. It would be several sevendays before they would know how well they did. She pressed her palm against the window, watching. Waiting. Maybe even hoping. She wasn’t even sure. She turned to go as she heard Kratt yell out for her to join him. “That’s my Kratt,” she said to the silent walls, only IRaC to hear her, and IRaC didn’t seem inclined to reply.

 

“I’M TELLING you, Synrnn.” Kratt tossed the portable glass he’d been searching through onto the shelf above his bunk. “If we find anything old military in that pod, people’ll pay big time.” He scratched absently at the side of his nose. “At least, I hope they will.”

Reaching to pick up the glass, she flipped through the images of MegaCorp history archives. “Boss, why do you keep these old relics?”

“What? The glass?”

“Yeah.” She turned. “They’re nothing more than old-fashioned toys. I haven’t owned one of these since I was a kid.”

“They’re sturdy, and they’re dependable. I’ve also never had one fail. Tell me that about those dermal readers kids use now. I like tried and true. That’s me.”

She handed him the glass. “You’ve certainly got that, Boss. It’s true you try everyone’s patience. But we’ll keep you around a while.”

“What do you think happened to cause this pod to wind up all the way out here?”

“I don’t know, Boss. I really don’t.” She tapped her fingernail against the doorframe. “I bet I know someone who does, though.”

“Yeah, but he’s not talking. You think he’ll come out of it? That’s a long time to be in cryo, even full cryo. I once traveled in slow-sleep, you know.” He grinned as she cut her eyes to him. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

“I thought you hated all that cryo stuff, and slow-sleep is just a step under full cryo.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why I hate it so.” He traced a circle with his finger on his bunk. “I was stone broke. My family couldn’t even send me to the academy. I had to pay myself, working three standard years. I was cheap—”

“Even then?” She laughed.

“Even then.” He laughed with her. “I had worked hard for those credits. It was three times the cost to ship on top, so I opted for a sealed bunk. Waking up was death boiled by two. I swore never again, and I never have, either.” He put both feet up on his bunk, leaning back against the pillow. “I’ll pay whatever. It’s not worth the savings, no matter what they say.”

“This guy’s gonna have a tough time, even if he does come out. IRaC says eighty-seven percent chance. What’s your guess?”

“My guess? He’ll walk and talk, but he’ll be a scrubber, that’s what. Food-sucking menial labor. Might’ve been better to’ve spaced him.”

“Just what I was thinking, Boss. Too late now. He’s on ship’s records, and that carries a lot of weight in any port we enter. ’Cepting Rutger’s World. And, just so you know, I have no desire to ever go to Rutger’s World. Even the stories give me the heebie-jeebies.” She picked at one rough nail. “How long do you think before the medbath’ll drop, and we can see what he looks like?”

“IRaC, did you get that? Got an estimate, yet? Synrnn wants to check him out.”

“It is a bit early for a firm estimate, Kratt. However, I feel I can say with a high degree of confidence that two sevendays in the medbath should be sufficient for the initial phase. He is still fully clothed, though. When the medbath is removed for the final recalibrated immersion treatment, he will need to have the clothing removed.”

“Gods, IRaC! Did you have to share that now? I haven’t had my meal, yet.”

“I am sorry, Kratt. I will try to be more sensitive on future occasions. However, I am just stating a medical necessity. The clothing will interfere with the rejuvenation of the skin. As you may recall, cryo-decay had set in, and the skin does indicate damage. A full epidermal rebuild may be necessary.”

“Sure, IRaC. I’ll be there in full scrub gear. Synrnn might have too much fun on her own.”

She laughed and kicked his bunk, and he grinned mischievously as he tossed his pillow at her.

Turning, she stepped outside the door. “Let’s go see what else is inside your new toy, Boss.” She hit the wall with the flat of her hand, the noise resonating in his quarters. “Stat!”

The lights clicked off, and the door slid shut as he bounded after her.

 

“DO YOU THINK this gel is good for anything?” Kratt stared inside the cryo pod, the yellow cryo gel in a semi-liquid state, the mallet in his hand. He reached out with the mallet and knocked down several of the rough edges left by the ripper. “Do you think it’d still work if we charged it up?”

“Jump in, Boss. I’ll power you up.”

“No thanks. Just wondering if I should dump it or keep it. On Carney’s World, there’s a demand for old cryo gel.” He grinned. “Old-school technology winning once again, modified to save the day, or at least their limited food supplies. Think we might make it there someday? Might be some credits in it, if it still holds a charge. Course, we might find someone closer who’ll put it to a similar use. How about it, Synrnn?”

“No opinions, there. Sorry, Boss. I’m heading over to drop off these access node connectors. Might be able to give IRaC some visual interface capabilities.”

“Ouch, and all I wanted was a good cook. Now I’m getting a peeping Tom. Er, maybe a peeping Tom-ette. IRaC, any opinions about this gel?”

“Thank you for asking, Kratt. However, I really cannot answer that question without additional information. The gel is old military and was the highest grade available at the time. It was still holding a charge when we retrieved the pod even though the occupant was entering cryo-decay. The decay may have been due to a power loss and not to a decline in the actual composition of the gel, itself. I would suggest storage for the short term with an analysis to determine viability for resale. Does that satisfy your request, Kratt?”

“That’s good enough for me. Thanks.”

“Do not mention it, Kratt. I am always glad to be of service.”

He dropped the mallet and pulled a retractable hose from a wall stor’lok, attaching it to an arm suspended from the ceiling. Keying in storage retrieval mode, he initiated the suction in the hose. Working it over the inside of the cryo pod, he evacuated the remaining gel.

“Tight quarters,” he muttered to himself. “How do people manage to fit in these?” Eyeing the pod, he pulled himself up and squirmed inside, settling into the built-in seat, his knees to his chest and his arms at his side. He placed his hands into the recesses designed for them and shivered. “Gads!”

“Taking a nap, there? Want me to power it up?” Synrnn strolled up, her arms resting on the lip of the pod. “Do I get to pilot the ship while you’re out for a century or two?”

“Help me out.” He offered a hand. “This is tight.”

“That’s why it’s called an emergency pod, Boss. It’s just for emergencies, not for daytime naps. Here, grab my hand.” Grasping his, she popped him back to full size. “No sweet dreams, huh, Boss? What about high-tech military secrets?” When he shook his head, she continued, “Maybe the high tech is in that man’s head back in the medcenter. You never know.” She felt of the opening where the panel had been cut off. “Slagged on one side and still like new inside. Well-built. I’d love to know the story about what must have happened to degrade this metal like this.”

“You may never find out. That’s what makes it so much fun.” He glanced at her and winked. “Here’s what I think. He was probably guarding a prison construction crew. The crew went renegade and started blowing the place up. Our guy was the last guard being held hostage, and the prison crew was promised clemency if they let him go. When the crew was setting our guard free in this cryo pod, the military blasted the smithereens out of the bunch of them, nearly taking out this pod in the process.”

“Except, Boss, what little I could see of it, that was no guard suit.”

“Fair enough.” He rubbed his chin, the stubble darkening its surface producing a scratching sound. “There was a mutiny aboard a military vessel. Once all the shooting was done, the ship was busted up pretty well. Our guy was on the wrong side, and there wasn’t enough ship left to support everyone. The losing side was given just one option. Join the usurpers or jump ship. Our guy was true blue, and rather than join in, he decided to take his chances in an escape pod.”

“Yeah, Boss. One problem with that scenario. How’d the pod get blasted?”

“Minor detail I left out. Sorry. Our guy wasn’t so dumb. He set the main engines to overload just as his pod exited the ship. Bye, bye, ship. Almost bye, bye, our guy.”

“I like that one. Can you give me one that doesn’t involve blowing thousands of other men up?”

“Sure. There was this guy who had found his true love. Only, she didn’t love him. See, she never had, and he just couldn’t figure it out. Then, on one assignment, she was bored and let him have his way with her. However, once he started to proclaim his love out loud, she kicked him out. He was so distraught he threw himself into an escape pod and aimed it right into a nearby sun. He happened to be a little off in his calculations, and he bounced off the sun, frying the outer shell of the pod rather than sucking down into the solar gravity well. Now, here he is aboard our good ship.”

“The best rendition for sure. I really like that one, Boss. Unrequited love.” Synrnn smirked as her next barb came at him. “I wonder where in that head of yours you came up with that. Perhaps personal experience? Hm?”

“Yeah, my mother. Or better yet,” sidling up to her, “sweet love of my heart. You never do seem to warm up to me. What goes on in that cold, cold heart of yours?”

“Only my pounding love for you, Boss. I just keep it under lock and key.” She put her hand flat on his chest and pushed him away. Walking over to the pod, she reached in, running her hand over the interior. “I’ve never played with one of these. Really tight inside, was it?”

“Pretty much.” He leaned in beside her. “No one travels in these without the cryo on. Just fall in, and it self-initiates an emergency cryo cycle. Before it’s even away from the ship, the gel has pumped in, and photonic cryo compounds are flooding the occupant’s system. From what I understand, you’re out so quick, you never even feel the high-speed jettison from the mothership.” He chuckled. “How’s that for travel accommodations? Now picture yourself on an exploding ship. When these cycle up to ready status, the lid pops up, and you back in. The pod senses you’re inside and clear. Pop! You’re sealed in. You barely even have time to know it’s dark before the gel shoots in from eighty-five injectors all over the inside of the pod.” He pointed inside at barely visible indentations on the interior surface. “Eighty-five. I know. I looked it up. Isn’t that right, IRaC?”

“Yes, Kratt. You are correct. Eighty-five became an industry standard on full cryo models well before our pod was manufactured. Several versions of multiple occupant pods have substantially more, though.”

“Thanks, IRaC. See, Synrnn, when this pod ejected from that cruiser, it was moving at five gees, and it ramped up to twenty gees almost immediately. That gel had to already be in place to cushion our poor, fragile human from being crushed to death. Imagine. Within two seconds, our guy had gone from awake to encased in fully energized cryo gel, his pod under nearly twenty gees of acceleration.”

“A speedaholic’s dream, Boss.”

“See? That’s what I’d like.” Kratt leaned over, both arms resting on the opening, taking care around the areas cut by the ripper. His eyes were filled with possibilities, and they sparkled.

“To be spaced in a cryo pod?”

“Nah. A fighter pod. Military grade. Twenty gees or more. Instant acceleration, my suit encased in energized suspension gel. Wow! Wouldn’t that be a trip!”

“Until the first laser strike. Maybe a sonic disrupter. Boss, you could look forward to hitting a piece of space debris at twenty gees. Do you have any idea how much of you’d be left? Bye, bye, little bits.”

“Spoil sport.” He pursed his lips. “That’s my dream, though. Low, sleek, and it has to be red. With manual thruster controls. Yeah, manual.” He grinned playfully. “If I ever strike it really big, if enough of a paycycle ever comes my way, I might just do it. You know, by George, I just might!”

“Good gods, Boss! And why’s the color important?”

“So I can stand back and admire it in the docking bay.”

“Crikes, Boss. You’re the only one who’ll ever see yourself flying it.”

“It’s more than that. I guess it’s a guy thing.” He looked at Synrnn, the longing bringing a mournful look to his features.

“I think you mean it, Boss. I think you’d really do it. Well, I hope you do strike it big on one of these runs. I hope you open one of these pods one cycle and find it filled with diamonds and gold.”

“Thanks. Except that since they found that diamond reserve on Shirlson 3, even natural diamonds have become almost worthless. That’d be my luck.”

Synrnn laughed out loud. “Yeah, mine, too.”

 

“KRATT.”

He jerked his head up and looked around. He was alone in his quarters, and the room was dark. He frowned and groaned, knowing it couldn’t have been a full night, yet.

“Yes?”

“Kratt, please wake up. We have an emergency. Your attention is needed.”

“Ahh.” He groaned, letting his head sink back onto his pillow. “What sort of emergency?’’

“The medbath has reached critical overload. The occupant needs to be removed as quickly as possible.”

“Crikes, IRaC. I thought you had recalibrated the operating parameters for the medbath.” He threw his face into his pillow, his arms pulling it around his head.

“You are correct, Kratt. However, to achieve maximum cryo-rejuv from the non-cryo medbath, I have had to push the bath past its designed operating parameters. I have known the medbath was under strain for some time, but I had hoped it would continue to complete the rejuv procedure. It has now failed. With failure of the medbath, successful completion of the rejuv process has now dropped to an estimated sixty-one percent and falling. Synrnn is already on her way to the medbay.”

“Shike! Shike! Shike!” He vented into his pillow. Rolling over, he said under his breath, “Why always at night? Can’t these things ever happen when I’m up?

“Would you like me to answer that question, Kratt, or is it rhetorical?”

“Let it go. Tell Synrnn I’m on my way.”

“I will let her know. Thank you, Kratt. Your help will be appreciated.”

“Anytime. Just remember, daytime is better.”

“I will keep that in mind. I appreciate your suggestion.”

With a slapping sound, Kratt’s feet hit the floor. Grabbing a shirt, he headed out the door, the medbay foremost in his mind.

“You owe me for this, Synrnn. I would’ve been happy to’ve busted in, curse the occupant inside. No one would have faulted me for it, either.”

However, even his reservations did not slow him as he hustled down the corridor and into the medbay.

 

“BOSS, THANK the stars you’re here. The whole medbath’s gone down. IRaC tells me the initial rejuv process is essentially complete, but with the bath down, this gel’s got to come off quick.”

“Also, the uniform must be removed, Synrnn.”

Kratt guffawed. “Duh, IRaC.” He bounded to Synrnn’s side, helping her pull on long gloves and an emergency smock, turning to allow her to do the same for him. “Ready, Synrnn.”

“Ready, Boss. IRaC?”

“Ready could not come soon enough, Synrnn. Proceed, and I will offer suggestions.”

“Thank you, IRaC. Boss, hit the release.”

As the glassine enclosing the front of the medbath audibly released its seal and slipped upward into the wall, they stood back, allowing the medical table to extend itself between them. The medbath looked like a long satchel with a spring-loaded top. It now appeared dull and lifeless.

“Medbath releasing. Kratt, Synrnn, please press it into the surface of the table. It will be absorbed.”

“Thanks, IRaC. Synrnn, ready?”

“Got it, Boss. Ready. Set. Push.” Together, both sets of hands on the opening medbath, the stiff seal dropped closer and closer to the table as the flexible sides began to liquefy.

“The medbath liquefaction is complete. Remove the seal from the bed. Subject is now fully exposed.”

“Not fully, IRaC. We’ve got a goo-covered man here.” Kratt raised his eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling from where IRaC’s voice emanated.

“Begin to remove the gel, Kratt. Removing the uniform will take care of much of it. Inventory logs show a slicing tool underneath the table. Please work carefully so as not to damage the skin underneath. When you are finished, use the overhead sprayer to wash him down.”

They began slicing the man’s clothes, peeling the cloth away. Synrnn stepped back.

“IRaC, he’s moving.”

“He is alive. Cryo-rejuv outside of a pod takes much longer, but he is definitely alive. Please use the sprayer now. Wash the gel from his face. He will need to evacuate gel from his lungs, also.”

She grabbed the sprayer from the overhead rack and set the temperature for warm. Spraying gently, the man’s likeness began to show through the gel for the first time, revealing pale hair and skin, and emphasizing slender, almost pretty features. She watched as he coughed, sending yellow gel oozing from his mouth.

IRaC’s strident instructions interrupted her observations.

“Turn him on his side, Synrnn. Kratt, help her remove the rest of his clothes. He must be returned to the medchamber as soon as his lungs are clear. My revised estimate for survival is down to fifty-five percent.”

Synrnn worked to keep the man’s mouth clear as Kratt stripped the rest of the uniform off, dropping it on the floor at their feet for further study later. Using the sprayer, he rinsed the man’s limbs clean, surprised at the lack of injury.

“He seems to be in perfect condition.” Synrnn looked at Kratt, puzzled.

“Surprising, huh? I agree it’s odd. In battlefield conditions, people who made it away in these pods were often injured when they entered. Ready to roll him on his back?” He placed his hands on the man’s hip and ankle. “Grab his shoulder and head.”

“Almost. Let me move around the table. Ready. Set. Roll.” As the man rolled onto his back, they heard a groan. Looking at each other, she was the first to call out, “IRaC? Is he conscious, already?”

“He is not awake, Synrnn. The medchamber will continue to keep him unconscious. Please place his arms at his side and prepare to close the chamber. Survival probability has now fallen to fifty-one percent and will continue to drop until he is returned to the chamber.”

Straightening the man’s arms, Kratt slipped off a glove and palmed the switch. The prone figure glided inside the medchamber, with the glassine panel sealing him in.

“Full immersion in photonic compounds has been initiated,” IRaC intoned. “Kratt, Synrnn, do not open the medchamber for any reason.”

“Thank you, IRaC.” She leaned against the glass. “I’m so tired, Boss. Look at all this stuff on the floor. IRaC, will it be all right here until morning?”

“It will need to be cleaned as soon as possible. The gel will start to destabilize in continued exposure to air and will begin to infiltrate the ventilation system. I am sorry, Synrnn. I know it is very late.”

“That’s all right. Boss, hand me the hose and key it for storage retrieval. Is the setting entered for the same destination as before?”

“It will be.” He tapped a few times on the panel. “Done. You get that, and I’ll get the uniform. I want to keep his clothing just in case I find something interesting about it.” He gathered the gel-covered fabric, stacking it in a tray from under the medical bed, and slipped a self-sealing lid on it. “I’ll drop this in a cleaner tomorrow. I’ll want to go through it, first.” He stood, setting the tray on a shelf. “Thanks, Synrnn. I know this has been more work than we both bargained for.” He stepped to the glassine separating the blond-haired man from them. “Just look at that, though. A man. Nearly four hundred years old, if a single cycle.”

“Not really, remember. That body has only what, twenty-five, thirty standard years at most on it, if that. When the skin rebuilds, he’ll probably look even younger. Twenty, at most.”

“You know what I mean. Stuff that happened nearly four hundred years ago is just like last cycle in that brain. Look at him in there. A little slice of history is in those legs and arms. That face. The last time it showed an expression or spoke a word was to one of my grandparents. With ten greats added on!” Kratt looked at Synrnn with a grin as she walked up to the window. “Just because that pod gelled him one cycle.”

“I just hope his brain isn’t gelled, too. He’s kinda cute.”

Kratt finally laughed at the situation. “Leave it to you, girl.” He rubbed the glassine as he watched the figure lying still, finally noticing the chest moving up and down. “Get this. For the first time, I think we might have a chance with him. He’s actually breathing. That body is actually working on its own. IRaC, has our probability improved?”

“Kratt, the transfer from the medbath went very well, indeed. The subject’s breathing and heart rate are both stabilizing. Within another cycle I should be able to verify brain wave restoration levels. The latest estimated probability of complete physical rejuv is now at seventy-six percent and climbing. It is still too early to estimate with confidence the probability of complete cognitive rejuv. I will continue to monitor the situation.”

“That’s good news. Thanks.”

“You are welcome, Kratt.”

As Kratt and Synrnn watched the living, breathing relic in the chamber, they saw the man shift his position. “Looks like we may have pulled in a live one after all, Synrnn. I can’t wait to talk with him. He hasn’t even lost his muscle tone.”

This time she laughed. “Yeah, he might have you beat, there. Boss, did I hear you say something about the exercise gyro? Or do I need to introduce the two of you again?” By the time she reached the door, she was laughing so hard she had to hold her hand on her side.

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Exiled on Rant Chapters 1-2

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Chapter 1

com•pound (kəm′pound) per•son (pər′s’n) n. more than one person so fused together in identity, lifestyle, and goals that no demarcation is clearly distinguishable

 

—NewWebster’s Thirty-Seventh Secondary Dictionary

 

OVERCADET STEPH’NI B’LTN RENHANT panted, the slippery floor forcing him to crawl toward the door. The room had never angled uphill before, and he kept sliding backwards, his hands and feet slipping out from under him. In the darkness, desperate for a handhold, he felt for anything he could grasp. A chair. A table. There. Someone’s wrist.

“Thank you,” he whispered.


He pulled himself forward, stretching his hand across the person’s waist, his arm sliding across a naked breast. A woman! Shame flooded his face. He offered an apology as he tried to push himself off and couldn’t. He realized to his horror he was naked also, his body engaged in a way he found repulsive and sensuous at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, as his vision went white, and he lost control. Crawling off the woman, he slipped and fumbled to the wall, searching for the light. The room flashed into brightness, painting blood everywhere, leaving the woman’s sightless eyes to stare up at him, fixated on the slashes of red covering the front of his body.

Renhant jerked, his eyes flying open in the darkness, his mouth dry with fear. He grasped his bedding in his fists, only to find his sheets soaked with sweat. It was the same dream every night. That wasn’t the way it happened, though. He stumbled to the toilet and threw up, as he did each time he woke from the dream.

The other bed in the cell creaked. “Another nightmare, huh? That’s tough, kid. Flush the toilet when you’re finished.” The words were growled, slurred with sleep. Then there came a long whistle of expelled gas.

Renhant hit the button on the wall, the smell of his vomit disappearing down the drain. Sitting on the cold of the metal floor, the wall’s chill penetrating his face, he wished he could go back and start over. Just one year. Just one month. Tears streaming down his face, he wanted someone to help.

Just one lifetime to live over again. He ran his hands over his hair, realizing it was as soaked as his sheets.

Crawling back in the rude bunk, he knew he wasn’t alone. Jer’son was somewhere in a similar lockup. So was Barn’t. They hadn’t been allowed to communicate, as if they might actually be able to plan a way to escape. They were on a spaceship, for gods’ sakes! At least let them have one another for solace.

Sliding hot, moist skin against the damp cold sheets was truly almost as bad as the nightmare had been. Then there was the smell from his cellmate’s gas. Renhant gagged as he forced himself to lie very still, waiting until the urge to vomit once again had passed. Finally, he closed his eyes, and in the stillness, a world that had once been better filled his dreams.

 

“YEAH, LOOK.” Renhant held up the credits. He turned and walked backwards, doing a little dance step, waving them over his head. “Fifteen credits!”

“Hey, who’d have thought that kid had that much. I figured a newbie that fresh to have maybe one or two at the most.” Renhant’s friend, Overcadet Fal’dera Hult Jer’son, laughed. “Did you see him beg you to take the money? And that was before you even kicked him!”

“Yeah, where’s my five?” Overcadet Je’main Winterd Barn’t jumped to grab it from Renhant’s hand.

“Who says you get five?” Jer’son teased, waving the credits in front of the smaller boy’s face.

“I’m the one who kicked him hardest. I deserve my share.” Barn’t pouted, his face turning red.

“Here,” Renhant peeled off five of the credits and handed them to Barn’t. “Here’s yours, too, Jer’son. Let’s go to the games room. They’ve got some new ones I want to try.”

With echoes of laughter, the three friends disappeared down the corridor, games on their minds, the boy lying in his own vomit in the utility corridor forgotten. They knew there would be others with money when they needed more. There always were.

 

JER’SON KNELT by Renhant’s bunk. “Did you notice the new kid? The one behind the pipes?” He grinned expectantly. “You know, when we were borrowing that newbie’s credits.”

His friend sat up on one elbow. “Yeah, I saw him. I didn’t know anyone else did. We should have beat him up after we thrashed that newbie. What do you think? Should we show him who’s boss around here?” He let himself fall back to the bed, tossing a hard ball at the bottom of the bunk above, catching it each time it returned.

“I talked to Barn’t, and he says the kid had a really bad reputation downside.”

“Barn’t knows that?” Renhant laughed. “He can’t even decide which shower niche to use unless we point him to one.”

“He says he was called up to the head rooms—”

“He was what?” Renhant sat up abruptly. “Did he rat?”

“Nah.” Jer’son pushed hard against Renhant’s shoulder, dismissing his concerns. “You know Barn’t. He wouldn’t rat without asking us first. No, he filched the kid’s file—it was right there on a glass—and he’s a forced inductee, had to come to the academy ship with no choice.”

“So, what do you think? Is he all right?”

“Don’t know.” He thought so, however. Forced inductee? That sounded like someone who would fit into their little trio snug as a bug. “Maybe. I say give him a cycle or two and see if he rats. If he does, I’ve never broken an arm. I might like to give it a try.” He laughed at that.

“Barn’t okay with this?”

“You know Barn’t. He’ll tag along with whatever we decide. Who knows, if he proves okay, the new kid might even be one of us some day.”

“If he fits in,” Renhant mused. “Otherwise, we’ll just work him over good. It wouldn’t hurt him at all.” He snickered, and then finished with, “Well, maybe just a little bit, but then that might do us some good.”

 

BARN’T HELD the fingerlight to the page, the lights of the holding cell long ago dimmed. He knew he would get in even more trouble if they knew he had the small device with him, but he had to have light. He was really nervous about going in front of the judge tomorrow. That’s when they’d find out just what would happen to them. With the girl dying, and then Zen’ri, it probably wouldn’t be good.

He hoped they’d be kicked out of the academy for sure. That’d be fine with him. He’d just go home. Sometimes he thought he’d like that, just pack up and go home, forget about all his classes and military training.

He didn’t know that he was really cut out to be a soldier like the others, not even if he did make officer someday. OverCap’t Je’main Winterd Barn’t. Wouldn’t that have really impressed his old man! It wouldn’t go over well if he came home, kicked out from MegaCorp, though.

Maybe he wouldn’t go home, just get a job on a private ship, and work his way up from the bottom. There were all kinds of things a boy his age could do. He stopped and corrected himself. There were things a man his age could do.

He was a man. He had been with her that night. He knew she hadn’t been dead then, because she had made moaning sounds as he had spilled his juices into her.

Barn’t hit his head with his fist, slamming the heel of his hand into it over and over. Someone had to take the blame, and it wasn’t going to be him. It was Renhant’s fault that all this was happening. If Renhant hadn’t done whatever he’d done, they wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be here, and he’d graduate from the academy in only a few more quarters, go home and show his old man what a jerk he’d been, telling him he’d never make it once he got here.

Once on the ship, Barn’t had thought he was free from the insults. Then, his old man had decided he had to come see him at the academy, and when he’d gotten here, he’d told his insults to everyone in the dorm, making him feel small all over again. Now, he could never go home. The old man’d never let him live down getting kicked out of the academy.

Barn’t ran his fingers down the file, hating using this paper copy, wishing for his glass, knowing it had been taken away with everything else that was his, taken and “held” for him until all this was resolved. He was sure there must be at least one accidental death case like theirs on the list where the accused were simply discharged.

After all, Zen’ri’s death had certainly been accidental. They hadn’t touched him, not really. It was just that Zen’ri was running, wouldn’t listen to them, and they had to stop him. He must have tripped. Zen’ri always was clumsy, anyway. Surely they would take that into account. They couldn’t really blame him for Zen’ri’s clumsiness, could they? Yeah, maybe kick him and Jer’son and Renhant out, but surely they wouldn’t do anything more than that.

Barn’t’s eyes starting to twitch, he came to the bottom of the list. There had to be at least one. He went back to the top; he must have missed it. Surely, not every single case was assigned to Rant. Not him, not Barn’t. He just wanted to be at the bottom of the ladder on a ship somewhere. He’d even wash floors as long as he didn’t have to go to Rant.

The words on the paper blurring, he wiped his eyes as he jerked across the words, running his fingers down the list once more. There must be at least one. There has to be, he told himself as he started reading at the top one additional time.

 

JER’SON SAT on his bunk in the dark, hitting his fist into his palm over and over. The slapping sound of knuckles against flesh was gratifyingly loud in the blackness.

Bofsky’d wanted to go. It was his idea. Even then they could’ve turned around and come back, especially at the point when they discovered they didn’t have enough credits. Playing ringleader, Bofsky had found a way. One walker for all of them, sharing one at a time.

Jer’son shouldn’t have listened to him. If they’d stayed on the ship, things would have been okay.

Then, there was that idiot, Zen’ri. To run like that—how stupid! They wouldn’t have hurt him. All he had to do was keep quiet for a while. Now, all three of them would be sentenced tomorrow. He knew what they’d do, not like stupid Barn’t, thinking they’d just let them all go home. No way. They were all going to Rant. That’s where all academy officers got sent when they broke the really serious rules. Well, they weren’t exactly officers, yet, but the three of them were almost officers, would have been, too, if it weren’t for Bofsky.

Jer’son continued to pound his hand, anger flooding his veins, hoping, just hoping he got on someone’s nerves. He needed to vent his rage on something or someone. He’d kick bars and pound metal, whatever it took. Gods, he hated Bofsky!

“Hey, you, kid. I’m trying to sleep up here.” Jer’son’s cellmate shifted in the bunk, and the metal creaked with his weight.

Jer’son went nuts. He jumped up and pushed on the edge of the man’s metal sleeping platform, slamming into it hard. “You talking to me? That me you’re talking to, huh?” His breath coming in gulps, pent up fury painting the world red, Jer’son turned away, and equally fast, he whipped back, lunging into the man’s bunk repeatedly, attacking it with his fists each time.

“Kid, go back to bed. You don’t want to mess with me,” the tired voice snarled.

“I don’t, huh? Then you just leave me alone, you hear? Just leave me alone.” Jer’son lunged forward one more time. As he did, a hand wrapped itself around his wrist.

“Want a broken arm, kid?”

He pulled back, forcing his wrist from the man’s grasp, his other hand slipping and inadvertently hitting the man in the face.

“That’s it, kid. You keep asking, so I’m gonna give you what you want.” With a creaking of the man’s bunk, there were quickly two angry people standing in the room. “Come on, kid. You think you can take me, or are you going to shut up and let me sleep?”

Jer’son hissed, “You can’t tell me what to do,” and with that, he attacked the man with both fists.

The man staggered, but the boy had no chance. While fending his hits with one hand, the bigger man kept his other curled into a fist¸ connecting with his inexperienced cellmate in all the places where the young man would hurt the worst. Soon, he hurt too badly to fight back.

As he lay on the floor, the man spat at him, “Now lie still. I want to sleep.”

This time, Jer’son did as he was told for the rest of the night. The next morning the guard kicked him as he lay curled on the floor.

“What happened to you?” Glancing up, the guard grinned. “Oh. I know who happened to you.”

“Damn right,” muttered the occupant of the top bunk.

Kneeling down, the guard grabbed Jer’son’s face in his hand, turning it, looking for damage. “Clean face. Good, this’ll be an easy one to overlook.” Giving the man in the top bunk a sharp slap to the shoulder, the guard called out, “Thanks. Good job,” and turned to walked out.

The man’s only reply was, “Go away.”

 

THREE DIFFERENT guards pulled three different seven-teen-year-olds from their last night on the academy training ship. Each was forced to stand outside a cell holding a change of clothing until a shower room was ready. Then, one at a time, the boys were taken inside, and the guard stood at the door monitoring as each boy stripped off his clothes and handed them to the burly man at his side, who then searched the pockets before stuffing them into a recycle slot.

Exposed to the greedy eyes of the watching sentry, each boy was required to shower and dress in the change of clothing he had been given. One at a time, the guards delivered their packages to the sentencing chambers, where finally all three were together again.

“Guys, do you think they’ll just let us go home?” Barn’t whispered. His cheeks were flushed with worry. Red traced lines in the whites of his eyes.

“Grow up. How many times over the past few cycles have you read down that ridiculous list you snuck in here? Things won’t change for us, Barn’t. Face it.”

“It might be we’ll be different. We might. When things change, there always has to be a first time. We might be it.” He scratched at his neck, leaving red marks as long as his fingers. They matched the color of his cheeks.

“Yeah, and Bofsky might pay his dues with us, too. Do you think that might happen, Barn’t? Bofsky might decide it’s not fair for him to get off while we pay his dues. Right. Like I said, grow up.”

“Be easy on him. He’s just scared.” Renhant sat with his head against the wall, his eyes on the ceiling.

Jer’son exhaled a barking sound at the reminder. “I guess I’m not, and you’re not, huh, Renhant? Just Barn’t, right?” He stood, walking around the room. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, you know. I was supposed to move on up and take command of my own ship. It’s not like those military commanders out there passing sentence on us haven’t sent men to their deaths, and then said, ‘Oops!’ Why do they have to do this to us when this is no different?” Jer’son slapped a bare fist against the wall.

“Because they can. Then they can feel righteous about keeping everything moral and honest when really it isn’t. You and I know that, but it doesn’t change what they can do. We don’t have a choice. We have to do what they tell us today. We just have to make sure we agree on one thing.” He sat up and leaned forward, motioning for the other two to join him. He whispered, “If this goes as bad as I think it will, Bofsky pays. I don’t know how or when, but we make a pact here and now to never rest until he has paid as much as we have. Is it a deal?”

All three boys reached their hands out and shook, the pact sealed with the act. The door opened, and they turned to face the guard.

“Break it up, boys. There will be no collaboration allowed. You will be led one at time to the chambers. Please follow protocol. Nod when sentenced. No comments are allowed, whether the sentence is in your favor or otherwise. Overcadet Renhant, first. Then, I will return for you other two.”

Renhant walked to the door, turning to his friends, and just looked at them before spinning around with resignation to follow the guard. Soon the other two were also taking their places as they were led off to learn of their fates.

 

“ALL RISE.”

The three boys could see their former friend, their Judas, across the room. He looked so proud and cocky at having escaped the punishment he should be sharing.

“Overcadets Renhant, Barn’t, and Jer’son, this board of inquiry has returned a verdict for the despicable actions you have initiated. You have shamed this training academy. For the willful entrapment and injury unto death of one Cadet Fabr d’Sen Zen’ri, you are sentenced to a permanent posting on Rant. A jumpship is waiting. Officers, please escort these men out now.”

 

JER’SON FELT his mind go blank at the actual words being said. Sentenced. Posting. Rant. He remembered the boy, the cadet aboard the ship who had died.

“Hey, Zen’ri.” The boy turned to face him, a look of wariness crawling across his face. “Remember me?” He smiled at the boy. He had attended several classes with him, but Zen’ri wasn’t his type. Small and awkward, he usually got the desk chores where he couldn’t mess much up.

Cautiously, he answered, “You’re Jer’son, right?”

“Yes, you remembered.” He put on his brightest smile. He had to charm this boy to get what he wanted. “Remember that abilities class we were in, the one where we were paired in the team races?” He looked at him, willing him to remember a race that had never happened.

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“Remember, Zen’ri? We were on the same team, and you were the last one who ran. You helped our team take first. Surely you remember.”

“I think I would if I did that.” The puzzled look on the boy’s face competed with what must be his desire to claim what Jer’son was offering him, recognition for a skill at which he was abysmally poor.

“You just don’t remember because you know you have more important things to do, not just win races. You know that thinking is more important. Isn’t that right?”

Cadet Zen’ri frowned. “I do think I remember something about that race.” He looked unsure, though.

“You must, Zen’ri, because we couldn’t have done it without you. Well, there’s something else I can’t get done without you.”

Hesitantly, the boy answered. “Sure. Um, what can I do for you?”

Jer’son rubbed hands together. “I have this pass I damaged, and I need a glue that will put it back together again without it coming apart when I run it through a scanner.”

Zen’ri obliged the request, even showing Jer’son the best way to apply it. What really amused Jer’son was how pleased he sounded doing it, as if he were helping out a good friend.

As if, Zen’ri. As if.

 

BARN’T MUMBLED, “Permanent posting? Life sentence is what it is.” Memories of his father flooded his thoughts.

“Look at you! Mr. La-te-da! So, what did I come to see, a girl or an officer? I don’t see any officer’s bars on those shoulders, yet.”

“I know, Dad. I have to graduate to become an officer.” Barn’t turned from his father to face his bunk, unable to bear the drunken flush on his face.

“Don’t look away from me, boy. I’m your father, and you have to do what I say. I told you you’d never make it here.” His father turned to the rest of the dorm, speaking as if wanting the others to hear. “How many other fathers come here to see their sons? How many of those fathers ever got a medal for bravery? How many of those fathers set a standard so high their sons got to piss their pants just to reach it? Gods, it’s hot in here. Do they have a place I can get a drink?” He grabbed Barn’t’s arm. “Huh, boy?”

Barn’t muttered, “How many of those boys have to deal with a drunk for a father?”

“What, boy? I heard that. I am not a drunk.” Louder, to the dorm, “I am not a drunk. My boy, Barn’t here, says I’m a drunk, but I’m not. I just like a little one every now and then.”

He can’t even call me by my real name, not like a real father would. Je’main. It’s Je’main.

Making sure his face was expressionless, he turned to his father. “Dad, maybe we can get you something in the officer’s mess. It’s right this way.”

“Damn right, it’s this way. Bet you’re proud to be seen with your old man, huh, Barn’t. I’m a real war hero, that’s by god right. A real, honest-to-damn war hero.” He strutted, calling out to the other cadets, “Look at me. Eat your eyes out, boys!”

After seeing you, they’re probably glad their dads didn’t get a special bravery medal allowing them access to the training academy where those same fathers could continue to mess up their sons’ lives just as they’ve probably done all along at home.

Barn’t kept his face straight, though. It’d be hell enough when his father was gone without being teased for being a baby, too.

Gods, he hated his father.

 

RENHANT WHISPERED, spitting the words angrily, “You’ll pay, Bofsky. Somehow. Someday. Just wait.” Bofsky had stolen something from him, and Renhant knew what it was. His pride. He remembered the sister he’d wanted to be so proud of him.

“So, my baby brother’s going to follow in his sis’s footsteps and graduate from the academy.” Reenna Chi’lita Renhant reached across the table and ruffled his hair with one hand. “You deserve a night out on the town for this.” Standing, she paid for his treat, and they stepped into the shopping arcade. “Of course, it won’t be easy, Rennie, but you’ll love it. The academy’ll be like family after a while. Your family.”

He grabbed her hand and led her to an arcade counter, the games involving shooting and throwing. Smiling at him, she slipped out a credit for him to put in the machine. Looking up, he was surprised to see tears running down her face.

“I am so proud of you, Rennie. No matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you. Nothing you could do will ever take that away.” As she stopped right there in the middle of everything and hugged him, he hugged her back, knowing he would make her proud, would make MegaCorp proud. He would do that for his sister no matter what the future held.

He would never let his sister down, whatever that promise demanded from him.

 

THE BOYS felt the ziptites jerk tight around their wrists. Not criminals, at least not to each other, only a tenday earlier they had been on the road to graduation, the honors of the academy theirs. Now, they were being looked upon as MegaCorp trash. Couldn’t the others see them for what they really were? Officers! The short time until graduation didn’t matter; this was Jer’son, Renhant, and Barn’t, the same guys who sat in class, ran the drills, and joked at the mess table.

At least none of the other uppercadets would be in the corridors with them. The three of them wouldn’t have to listen to the mocking calls, the whistles of derision, or the taunts made by the others who were just glad three more competitors were out of the running for the top spots at graduation.

 

RENHANT STOOD at his instructor’s invitation. It was his third year at the academy, and this was the final day of the session. He looked at his score as the instructor raised her hands and started to clap, the entire class joining in and cheering for him.

He held his head high. He deserved this, although he had twisted every rule in the book to make it come true. His score was the highest ever recorded in her class. He had known her reputation for toughness when he signed up for her class, and he had made it his business to learn who his smartest classmates would be. It hadn’t been hard, really. A planned “chance” meeting at meals, the shoulder bumped in the games room, the quick apology and introduction, and a “friendship” was formed, one beneficial at least to him.

Then, later, the friendship firmly entrenched, had come the first payment. You’re my closest friend, and I’m not as good at this as you are. Can I please borrow your study notes? Sometimes he had to twist an arm to get what he wanted, but this was worth it.

He smiled, taking pride in the honor being bestowed on him by his teacher and classmates. Running his eyes across the room of cheering students, he stopped at one boy in the back who wasn’t cheering. He paused, glancing away, remembering.

“That’s cheating, Renhant. I can’t give you the answers. Besides, they always watch. They’ll know if you copy.”

“I wouldn’t be copying. I will be absent that day. I need your answers to study with, that’s all. Besides, when I go in for my makeup exam, the real test’ll be already over, so how could it be copying?” At the boy’s doubtful look, Renhant stepped closer to him. “I really need this. You and I are friends, or at least that’s what I thought. All I’m asking for is a little help here.”

“We are friends, Renhant. I told you so, but this just doesn’t seem right.”

“You mean it doesn’t seem right to help a friend. That’s where we stand, huh?”

“No, that’s not it.” The boy looked at him pleadingly. “If I give you my answers, you’ll use them just to study with, right, not to use on the test?”

Renhant smiled and stepped away. “That’s right, just for studying. I wouldn’t use them on the test at all. That would be cheating, wouldn’t it?” He put his arm around the boy’s shoulder, reassuring him they were still the closest of friends, even if they really weren’t, not by any stretch of the imagination.

 

“LITTLE GIRL! Can’t you make it like the rest of the boys?” The instructor’s voice mocked Barn’t.

It was his first year at the academy, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t keep up with the bigger boys on his team. He looked up. Just three more pegs, and he’d be at the top, the current nightmare over.

“Don’t pee your panties!” The other boys laughed at the instructor’s deriding gibes.

All the other guys had been to the top, some of them on the first try. He knew his team couldn’t move on until he grabbed the top peg. Frustrated, he felt his eyes grow damp. He wasn’t good at this. They should know that. Every boy should be allowed at least one thing he wasn’t good at. Some of the guys weren’t as good at the other skills learned in their class lessons, but no one made fun of them for that. No, it was “get some extra help after class” for them. Well, no one was giving him any extra help now. Just the laughing.

He reached for the next peg and pulled himself up, his muscles quivering with the strain. He held on, sweat beading his face, and looked up. Two more pegs. Just two more pegs, and they’d quit laughing. He released one hand, opening and closing it, trying not to think about the blister forming on his palm. He reached out and grasped the second peg. With fire shooting through his shoulder, he inched his body up until he could see the top peg just above his head. Just that one was all he had to do, then he would be part of the team. They’d stop laughing at him then. All he had to do was touch it, just one quick touch.

His breath vibrating from his lungs, he opened a hand and grabbed at it, eliciting a spattering of cheers from below.

Working his way back down, barely able to keep from slipping, he dropped heavily to the floor. Standing, holding to the wall to steady his quivering legs, he turned to his team. One of them spat at him, “You almost made us lose. Even a baby could climb that. Sissy.” Then, the team was gone, on to the next challenge, his efforts forgotten.

He didn’t forget, though. He knew just who had laughed at him. He would always remember. He wouldn’t forget them, even if they forgot him. Ever.

 

JER’SON KICKED the door, and again, and again. How dare they lock him in this room! He was an overcadet, a respected member of the academy. It wasn’t his fault his instructor had killed himself.

Jer’son had indisputable proof that all he had done was tell the truth. Anyway, if the instructor hadn’t failed him, nobody would’ve had to know, would they? He wouldn’t have had to write that message and broadcast it on the intraship network.

He yelled through the small opening in the door, “I didn’t do it. He killed himself. I wasn’t even there.”

Then, the door swinging wide, in walked an officer flanked by two guards. The officer walked to the table in the middle of the room and slapped a glass down on the table.

“You wrote this. We have proof of that.” He spat his contempt

“If I did?” Jer’son had. It was his broadcast playing on the surface.

“Where did you get this information?”

Ah, now he knew where this was headed. He could back up his facts, because they were true. He had friends who knew. They’d been there, been with the girl, said she looked just like her father, and when they had asked her, she admitted the instructor was her father. Jer’son had to suppress a grin, though. It seemed she hadn’t really wanted to admit who her father was until after a little rough “play.” Jer’son knew she had also owned up to a few other top brass who’d spent time with her.

Now on confident ground, Jer’son retorted, “Check it out. The records are there at the spaceport I talked about. The instructor’s daughter really is a sky-walker. Keeps the military happy when the ships come in. I even know a few captgen’ls who have been with her, even the one on this ship.” He smirked. “I guess the instructor didn’t know.”

The officer grabbed the glass and handed it to one of the guards. “Take this and check out the kid’s story. See if he’s telling us the truth.” Turning to Jer’son, he growled, “We have proof you were nowhere near the instructor’s quarters when he was killed. It’s the only thing saving your hide about now. Let’s just hope your story checks out. Otherwise you’ll be held as accessory, suicide or not.” The officer turned and walked out of the room, the remaining guard with him. When Jer’son heard the locking mechanism click over in the door, he raised his foot and kicked it again.

It’s true, he thought. You can bet on that. Then, with nothing to do in the barren space, he sat on the lone chair in the room and put his head on the table.

 

THE LIFT BLINKED red three times, and then with a sudden flash of green, the doors slid open. The three boys, hands behind their backs, resolutely stepped in. Their two guards followed, their weapons at the ready. As the doors closed, it was as if the light from the boys’ world was eclipsed from around them. MegaCorp Military Academy was gone. They were leaving behind all they’d worked for. Never again would they be looked on as the future hope of MegaCorp. From this point on, they were nothing more than washed-up has-beens.

However, there was something new, a connection forming deep inside each boy. There were three of them, and they were a team. They had a pact, and that pact was stronger than what was coming up. That pact was stronger than Rant ever could be.

In the coming days, the three teenagers would need that strength. It would be the only thing to see them through.


Chapter 2

Twelve men walking

Came upon a tree.

Left one hanging,

I’m glad it wasn’t me.

 

Eleven men talking

Thought they’d done right.

They didn’t know

I got away that night.

 

—From “The Legend of Tommy Boy”

 

THE LIFT STOPPED, and the doors slid open. No one moved. None of the boys wanted to be the first to take that step toward an uncertain future. Someone else’s life lay outside that lift door. Not Renhant’s life. Certainly not Barn’t’s. Most importantly, not the world Jer’son had imagined; he would not let it be his future.

Finally, out of patience, one of the guards bumped Jer’son with his weapon. Knocked off balance, he stumbled off the lift, inadvertently leading the other two to a place none of them wanted to go. He turned just in time to see Barn’t and Renhant stumbling after him.

Ahead, the airlock loomed above them as they approached, the jumpship just on the other side. At a motion from the guard on his right, Jer’son stopped, and Barn’t, head down, preoccupied with his situation, ran full speed into him.

“Crikes! You little idiot!” Jer’son hissed his irritation at his friend’s carelessness. “Can’t you even watch where you’re going?”

“Shut your traps up!” the guard on the left snapped. “You sissies aren’t causing any problems here. Got that?” When the boys didn’t respond, the guard repeated his question, “Got that?” stepping behind them and hitting Jer’son in the back with the butt of his weapon.

“Yes, ser,” the ex-overcadet coughed out.

“You other two?”

“Yes, ser,” came the boys’ replies.

“Glad you agree.” Snide humor laced the words. “You pissants better mind your p’s and q’s. Word’s out about that little wussy you killed.”

“Seen his picture. Too pretty to waste.” His partner snorted his disgust.

“Don’t let it get to you, Aain’sl. We never would have had access to that particular little piece.”

“Yeah. But still.” He turned to the three boys again. “Bofsky was the only man among you. One of him is worth three of you. Thank the stars this academy still trains at least a few good officers to lead us into the future.” The guard cleared his throat, then spat a wad at the boys’ feet.

“Damn right. Men like Bofsky are what this academy needs. Ship out the riffraff like you three,” the other guard seconded with a laugh.

Renhant, Barn’t, and Jer’son looked at each other, knowing a different story about Bofsky, also understanding it was useless to speak up. Revenge would have to come a different way.

One of the guards whipped out a pass and held it in front of a scanner. The airlock doors immediately cycled open. “Inside, boys. It’s time to get the filth off this ship. Crowd ’em up. We’re coming, too.”

This time, the guards didn’t wait for the boys to move. Slamming into them, their weapons as rams, they pushed the boys forward into the airlock, forcing them to stumble over one another.

“Can’t walk too good, huh? Lost your manhood when you lost your chance at being an officer, is that it, trash?” The guards looked at each other and grinned.

The boys regained their feet and stood, humiliated and frightened, their hands still bound behind their backs. It was plain they had no options except to take whatever the guards decided to dish out. There was no one to take up for them. As far as anyone outside MegaCorp would know, they were simply being posted to a new assignment. This would be an assignment, however, at which they would never be heard from again.

One of the guards, leaning around to trigger the ship’s side of the airlock door, leaned hard into Jer’son, already sore and miserable from his beating the night before. When the man whispered into his ear, “Pretty toy,” and ran his tongue along his cheek, the boy reacted.

“Get away from me, you pervert!” he hissed, slamming the side of his head hard directly into the guard’s face.

 

JER’SON PULLED at the ziptites around his wrists, but they didn’t budge. He hadn’t expected they would, but in his anger, that didn’t stop him from trying. It was the stink of the man next to him, the sour smell of someone who ate too many spicy foods and didn’t shower often enough. The need to get away overwhelmed him.

He knew what the man had wanted when he made him stand outside his cell that morning. The way he had looked at him, the leer when he handed Jer’son the clothes, had said it all.

Later, when he led him to the shower, the man had stood there, refusing to look away. Jer’son hadn’t wanted to take off his clothes, not with those hated eyes all over him. It wasn’t just the bruises from his beating the night before. It was a flashback to the nights when he had first come to the academy.

As Jer’son had peeled one garment after another, the chill of the room hitting his bare skin, he had glanced at his “caretaker.” A leer stared back, the grin disgusting in all its coarseness and perversity. He had turned away to cover himself, but the man barked at him, “This way, boy. I can’t have you doing something I can’t see, can I?” He prodded him with the tip of his weapon. Then, when Jer’son didn’t respond fast enough, a hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around, forcing him to stand under the needle-like spray, exposed and unprotected.

Jer’son’s stomach had knotted when he saw it was the same guard escorting them on the jumpship. When the man hit him in the back, forcing him forward, he had wanted to swing around and slam his arms into his face. He knew he was lucky, though, to have the second guard with them, because he was sure what the man wanted to do, would do, too, if he got the chance. One, surely, would keep the other reined in.

Then, in the airlock, the man was right next to him, too close, closer than he had to be, even in that small space. He felt his hand on him, touching his side, sliding across his clothing and touching him there.

Jer’son tensed. He could stand it. They would be on the jumpship soon, and the man surely couldn’t bother him there. Then, the brute leaned against him, gripping his crotch in a tight squeeze, and he whispered ever so softly in Jer’son’s ear, licking his face as he kneaded between his legs.

The airlock with the guards and his friends at his side melted away, and it was the training ship in front of Jer’son’s eyes. In that moment, he was thirteen again.

“Yes, this is the one I told you about, the pretty one. See what attractive features he has?”

Jer’son looked up and smiled at the two men talking about him. He didn’t know the one man, but the other was his activities instructor.

It was his first year at the academy, and he liked all his teachers. Most of them liked him, too, or at least they seemed to. At thirteen, nearly fourteen, now, he had grown a lot since his induction. Last tenday his dorm leader had even sent him to the barber to have his face shaved.

It made him feel special to get noticed. He was also glad his activities instructor had helped him change to a different bunk, one that was off around a corner. Now he had some privacy. His bunk couldn’t be seen from the other bunks in his dorm.

His instructor had suggested the move, telling him the other boy was willing to give up the bunk, even though he wouldn’t explain why. When Jer’son had agreed, a big grin on his face, the other boy had just swept up his things with relief and dumped them on Jer’son’s old bunk.

That first night, Jer’son woke with a start. Something didn’t feel right. Someone was by his bunk, hands touching him. He lay very still, afraid to move, hoping the person would go away and leave him alone. Yet, the person kept touching until Jer’son couldn’t lie to himself any longer. The hand was no accident, and it wasn’t going away.

When it was finally over, the hands covered Jer’son and walked away, leaving him to cry himself to sleep. He now knew why the other boy had been so willing to change bunks.

For the rest of his first year at the academy, he didn’t know which nights the hands would return. As he soon found out, they would return often, coming up with ever more inventive things to do to the boy cowering in the bunk.

When the guard licked his face, all those memories came flooding back, and Jer’son snapped. “Get away from me, you pervert!” No man was ever going to touch him like that again. He would get this man’s hands off him, whatever the consequences. With a blaze of red-hot fury wiping reason from his mind, he attacked with the only thing he had available, his head.

Jer’son slammed his skull sideways directly into the guard’s face and was gratified to feel him let go. His moment of triumph was short lived, however. Before he could turn in triumph, he felt a blazing flash of light start at the back of his head, and in a slow-motion arc, he fell ever so gradually into the incandescent core of a fiery sun.

 

JER’SON STOOD proudly at the helm of a starship, and he looked through the viewscreen at the offending vessel attacking the helpless world below. His ship’s weapons would pulverize them until they sent all their escape pods from their ejection ports and gave their ship up for dead. He would protect all the children on this hapless world from these vile aggressors.

“CaptGen’l Jer’son, here are the reports you requested.”

Jer’son took the portable glass in his hand and swiped his fingers above it to scroll through the information. It was just as he had thought. In spite of the enemy’s pleas for mercy, their cries of innocence, soldiers from that contemptible crew were attacking the planet below in the middle of the night, raping innocent women and children. He now had the proof in his hands. How could he allow that to continue?

“Gunners, lock on target.” Jer’son stood and walked the bridge, making sure all gunners’ fingers were poised over the red “fire” icons. “Repeat after me, men. We must protect the children.”

In turn, the gunners repeated Jer’son’s phrase. They had to understand they were destroying the enemy’s ship because of what their soldiers were doing to the poor innocent children on the planet below. This was not a mission of vengeance, but of rescue for those who could not help themselves.

“Ser,” a voice interrupted him. “There’s a message coming in from the enemy ship. Should I put it on the viewscreen?”

He laughed in derision. “One last cry for mercy? Sure, let’s hear it.” He looked around the bridge at his gunners as the message came onboard. He had a reputation as a captgen’l of steel, and this attempt to divert his ship’s attack was bound to be an over-the-top drama production. However, nothing would bend his resolve, and his men knew it.

“Fal’dera, it’s your mother. It’s really me, and I’m on board that ship in front of you. Please don’t fire. There are good men onboard. They are trying to save the children on the planet below.”

He stared, then turned to his men, his face hard. “This is the most despicable of tricks, men. See how low they are willing to go? Fire!”

Then, the scene shifting as dreams will do, he was on a tall dais, the wind whipping flags that towered over extensive parade grounds. He rose to his feet, his promotion to overgen’l making him stand tall, his pride in his ship and his men having been put before all else. As a hand pinned his new rank on his overjacket, a voice whispered in his ear, “You let children be raped for this promotion. You even killed your mother to get where you are today.”

“No!” He tore the medal from his overjacket, throwing it far away. “It’s not my fault. I don’t want to be overgen’l. They tricked me into doing it. I want my mother back.”

“Too late,” the voice said.

When he looked down at his overjacket, the medal was still there.

 

WHEN JER’SON had yelled out, and his head slammed into the guard, Barn’t and Renhant had tensed in the small space. They watched the guard, blood now streaming from his nose, raise his weapon and slam it against Jer’son’s head, crumpling the boy to the floor.

The guards looked at each other over the boys’ heads. The second one chuckled, remarking with a leer, “Just takes some of them longer to get used to the new order of things.”

As he reached out and triggered the door, the first guard barked at Barn’t and Renhant, “You two, over here and turn around.” He clipped the ties off their wrists. “Now he’s yours to carry. Pick him up, and let’s go.” Then the guard grabbed Barn’t’s arm and stopped him. “You. First, come here.” At the look of fear in the boy’s face, the guard laughed. “Don’t worry, kid. You’re safe around me. I only like the mature ones. It’s Tan’sn over there you’ve got to worry about. He likes ’em sweet and tender, just like you,” and he laughed as he grabbed the front of Barn’t’s shirt to wipe the blood off his face. Pushing Barn’t away, red now staining the front of his shirt, the guard pointed. “Runt, get your friend.”

As Barn’t knelt by Jer’son, he looked in Renhant’s eyes. They both flinched as the guard barked, “Carry him like he’s your best friend, because from here on out, he’s your only one.”

Stepping into the jumpship, the two friends held Jer’son between them, his arms around their necks. The second guard blocked the way to the main cabin, and he jerked his head the other way. The other direction they saw six rough slings, three on each side of what appeared to be a cargo hold.

“Set your friend down over there.” One guard pointed, indicating the three across the back wall. “Drop him in the middle one. You two take the ones on either side. Hop to it. It’s a full day even on this jumpship, and I don’t want to be in here with you any longer than necessary.” Then the guard walked up to Barn’t and took his face in his hands. “Well, maybe with you, little one. But, our time is not to be, not on this trip. Later, maybe.” He pointed to Jer’son. “Load him up, boys, and get yourselves seated.” He reached out a hand and roughly pushed the injured boy out of his friends’ arms and into the sling with the words, “Like this. Now, strap in.”

The first guard walked up and grabbed a strap from the ceiling, pulling a chain curtain to the floor, and locking it in place. “See,” he said. “We’re safe from you, and you’re safe from us. Too bad your friend there got himself knocked out. I might have kept him on this side. I might have even let you two watch.” With a guffaw of laughter, he grabbed an opaque visor from a rack over his head, flung himself into his seat, and closed his eyes. “Three jumps to get to our next stop: Rant, Planet of the Damned. Enjoy your vacation, boys.”

 

RENHANT WATCHED the second guard reach into the locker above his head. He pulled out an extra visor, hefting it in his hand and grinning.

“So, boys. I guess you don’t know what to expect traveling on one of these ships.” He turned to his partner with a malicious grin. “After all, the jumpships are just for the highest military purposes. Like today. The general public doesn’t even know they exist. It is quite an honor to be allowed to travel in one, meaning the honoree is of quite high military rank.”

“I think you’ve got it wrong, Tan’sn,” his partner sniggered, lifting his visor for a moment. “These losers fall at the other end of the spectrum.”

“But they are pretty. So, this being their first trip, and last, I might add, surely they should be given the best of accommodations.” The guard walked over and made as if to offer Renhant the visor through the chain curtain. “Oops! Doesn’t seem I can get this through the curtain. Hm. I guess you’ll have to do the jump without it. If you hadn’t been such bad boys, I’d probably let you wear one. But, no treats for the mean old guard means you three, oh, that’s right, you two have to do without. Sorry, boys. You know, this is the only part of this jumpship that’s not shielded. I hear it’s pretty gruesome, or at least the yells of the detainees we transport sound that way. They won’t ever tell us about it, though. Enjoy!”

With that, the guard slipped his visor on and fell into his sling.

Renhant lay still, not having any idea what to expect, when he noticed the whine of the engines increasing in pitch. As the sound rose out of his range of hearing, he noticed the edges of his vision turning pink. His heart jerked into motion, and then he felt the pain begin. His arms and legs were torn from his body. He could feel the tendons snapping and the blood vessels releasing their hold on each other, spraying his body’s lifegiving energies into the emptiness of space around him. Then, when he could take no more, the globules of his blood turned to fire, pelting his body, burning his clothing from him, searing his skin until the very meat of his body began to roast. Then, he began feasting on his own flesh, consumed with a hunger he knew he could never satisfy.

 

BARN’T RAN his fingers in the sand. He looked up from the shore and saw his mommy standing there waving at him, his mommy from before, when his mommy and his dad were still together, and his dad didn’t drink all day long. This would be a good vacation. He knew that.

Sometimes he came on vacation and his new stepmom locked him out of the house. He had to stay outside all day just like when he was at home. His dad never believed him when he told. His dad just believed his stepmom. After a while, his dad would start hitting him, calling him a liar.

Finally, he had quit telling. It was just what he did when his dad went away each day, spent the time outside. Not when his mommy had been here. She always let him back inside. Maybe today she would come outside and play.

“Je’main, I see you’re building something in the sand. What is it?” His mommy walked to the edge of the sand and stood there, her dress blowing in the wind, her hair brown and long.

“It’s a sand castle, Mommy. It’ll have big towers and flags on the top and everything. I have little men and women I can put at the tops of the towers so they can look out at the sea and see the boats coming. That way if someone gets lost, the people on the towers can help the lost people find their way home.” He smiled.

“That’s nice. Your father will be home in just a little while, and I’ve prepared us something really nice to eat. Would you like that? Something really nice to eat?” His mother stood at the edge of the sand looking at him and then turning to peer across the sea at the horizon, as if she could sense something coming.

“Mommy, come play with me first, please. It’s been so long since you’ve played a game with me. I’ve missed you.” Barn’t looked at his mother with pleading in his eyes. “Just this one time. Just today. Dad’s not home yet, and I won’t ask you to play very long. Please?”

His mother sighed. She turned to the house and then held up her hand to shade her eyes as she looked back to the horizon. Barn’t then saw her look high in the sky.

“What are you looking for, Mommy?”

“Oh, nothing, dear. I’m just hoping, I guess. More wishing than anything else.”

“Mommy, why do you sound sad?”

“I’m not sad, Je’main. I just need a rest, that’s all.”

She put her hands in her pockets as if it were chilly, but Barn’t felt very warm out in the sun.

“Mommy, will you come play in the sun with me? It’s very warm out here.”

She looked at him and smiled that warm smile he liked so much, the one she always smiled when she covered him up at night and told him to not let the bedbugs bite.

“I guess I could come out for a few minutes. Let me go put my other shoes on.”

“No, Mommy,” he cried, suddenly afraid. If she went inside, she might not come back out, and she was here, now. She was with him, and he hadn’t seen her in so long. “Stay outside with me, Mommy. You can take your shoes off here. You can put your shoes back on when we’re finished playing, and then you can go inside.”

“Sweetie, that just won’t do. I must have my outside shoes on to play on the beach. I promise I’ll be right back.” She ran to the house. She turned and looked at Barn’t, and she blew him a kiss. He reached up and caught it. He waved it high in the air, showing her what a good catcher he was. His mother laughed and waved, standing there for a moment, her hair blowing in the breeze. He loved her so much. He watched her as she turned and walked into the house, closing the door behind her.

Barn’t jumped as a huge crash came from the house. He turned to look out at the water and closed his eyes. His mommy might really be there, might still be there, if he didn’t turn around and look.

The back door slammed open as his dad threw the screen door wide, yelling at him, “Where is that empty-headed woman I married? And why is this back door locked? Je’main, did you lock yourself outside again? And why did your mother have to give you such a sissy name? Every time I call you, the whole neighborhood knows.” He spat into the dirt, his face red with anger. “Stupid boy. When your mother was alive, you never locked yourself out of the house.”

As his father turned to go back inside, an unseen window slammed shut on the other side of the house, and a few moments later, a vehicle from around the corner roared away, just as it did every day when Barn’t was locked out of the house.

Barn’t didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew what would be there. He didn’t want to see. He wanted his mother to come back, so he just sat with his eyes closed and waited. Finally, his father came down the steps and walked up to him. He kicked him and said, “I don’t know what you’re doing sitting here in the yard all day. There’s nothing here I can see except this grass that always needs mowing and these fenced walls closing me in. Gods above and below, I hate this place.” He kicked Barn’t again. “Get inside, boy. You’ll never make anything of yourself out here. Besides, your stepmother finally has dinner on the table. I just can’t figure out what that woman does all day. Not for the likes of me.”

Barn’t jerked, the vibration of the jumpship and the webbed seat cutting into his legs as they tried to bring him back to reality. The thought he tried to keep hold of was, If I keep my eyes closed, maybe it’ll go away. Just maybe.

At first he was grateful when the jumpship faded away again. After a moment, he wasn’t, not when his own personal hell swept over him once more.

 

JER’SON’S EYES flew open. Blearily he stared straight ahead, his breathing hard, feeling something funny in his mouth. His stomach churning, he turned and found Renhant and Barn’t on either side of him.

Looking ahead of him though a chain curtain, he saw the two guards who had escorted them. One was snoring. Both were sleeping with opaque visors across their faces.

It was only then he noticed his two friends were gripping his own hands tightly, as if very afraid of something they couldn’t see in the dark.

Then, with a twist of his gut, and a knife thrust of pain driving through his head, he slumped over, and he was gone again.

 

A MILLION YEARS later, and yet just as quickly as the nightmare had started, Renhant was back in the sling. The guards snored under their visors.

“Barn’t. Barn’t, Jer’son’s making funny noises.”

He watched his friend jerk his eyes open to the inside of the jumpship, the chain still separating them from the other side of the compartment and the two guards, one with the marks of a nosebleed on his upper lip. Turning his head, he could see Barn’t narrow his eyes at Jer’son. Bloody bubbles oozed out of the injured boy’s mouth.

Barn’t mouthed, “The guards?” He motioned to the two sleeping men.

Renhant shook his head back and forth, mouthing that they already knew and didn’t care.

Barn’t reached over and shook Jer’son. All he got was a moan. Reaching his sleeve up, he tried to dry the red spittle bubbling out of his friend’s mouth.

Renhant, emotionally empty, shook his head in resignation, lay back, and closed his eyes. If this wasn’t hell, he didn’t know what was.

 

JER’SON JERKED awake, his heart beating like a drum. He turned at the sound of a caustic voice.

“How about it, boys? That jump made the others sound like girls on a sleepover. Care to share a few of the details?” At the looks of unbridled terror on the boys’ faces, the guards slumped in their seats. “Thought not. It never hurts to ask, though.”

The first guard stood and looked in through the chain curtain. “Hey, look, Tan’sn. We might both get a treat this trip. My favorite in the middle is back awake. I was starting to think I had to take the big one over there. I was just hoping he wouldn’t be too much for me.” Turning back to Jer’son, he smiled. “Hey, sweetie, how long you been awake?”

Jer’son kicked the chain in reply.

The guard leaned over to his friend. “I guess he doesn’t want to play nice, Aain’sl.”

“So, I guess that means we get to play rough, Tan’sn. I like it better that way.” They both burst into riotous laughter.

Finally, the second guard—Aain’sl—stood up, flipping Tan’sn a set of code crystals. He reached down, unlocked, and raised the chain curtain. At the surprised looks on the boy’s faces, he said, “That was the third jump, boys. When you’re jumping unshielded, every jump seems like the first one. Isn’t that right, Tan’sn? Wouldn’t you say that?”

Tan’sn stepped over, pulling Barn’t from his sling, running his hand over the boy’s face. “Pretty and sweet, you know? Pick ’em ripe when they taste the best.” He pushed Barn’t to the door. “I wouldn’t know about the jumps. I’ve never done one unshielded. Never want to, either.” He reached down and pulled Renhant up, running his hand up and down Renhant’s arm before letting him exit after Barn’t. “Such pretty boys. We don’t get them on this run that often. Too bad we can’t stay and visit with them. We could build such fond memories together.” He looked back to the second guard. “It’ll take me a few minutes to check those other two in if you’d like some private time together. The station’s mostly downplanet this run, so no one’ll know.” He winked at his friend and walked out the door.

The remaining guard stood over Jer’son and leered at him. He grabbed the straps holding the sling chair to the ceiling and leaned over to look him right in the eyes. “I asked for this duty today. I knew you’d get assigned to Rant. There was no way you three were going to walk. I’ve overheard the little one telling everyone who would listen to him that he’d get off, that they wouldn’t send you three here. Well, guess what? You’re here.

“I enjoyed that little peep show in the shower. I just wonder if we should check out some of those bruises right here, find out where they all are, and just see how good my memory is. I was looking pretty closely back there, and I don’t forget much.” The guard reached to pull Jer’son’s shirt open, and Jer’son drew up his legs as if to protect himself from the guard’s advances. “How sweet! My toy wants to play hard-to-get. Like I said earlier, I like to play rough.”

With those words, Jer’son, who had been squirming in the sling as if afraid of the guard, let his legs loose like the coiled springs he had made of them. He was academy trained, and the guard should have remembered that. He shouldn’t have given him such an obvious opportunity for action. Ramming his feet directly into the man’s crotch, injuring the delicate body parts that he so wanted to inflict on his captive, Jer’son yelled in defiance. As the guard grabbed his manhood with his hands, dropping to the floor in agony, Jer’son climbed out of the sling and kicked the man again.

“That one’s for the first time I was touched,” Jer’son erupted violently, not meaning his interactions with the guard. Instead, he remembered those nights so long ago, those dark stretches lying awake not knowing if he would have a visitor, relieved when he didn’t, and hating himself the times he did. Sometimes it had felt good, and that’s why he’d never told, not really for his parents or because he was afraid of being kicked out of the academy, and he hated himself for that.

“That’s for the second time I was touched.” His boot connected yet again. It took a long time for him to kick out all the times he’d been visited that year, but he knew every one. He had relived each of those moments in his head so many times during those long nights that he could never forget a one. With each instance recalled, rage boiled inside, and with unbridled fury, he lit into the guard one more time.

This time when he yelled, “Keep your hands off me, pervert,” the man did. As Jer’son walked out of the jumpship, he knew he had learned to fight back, and if anyone needed any proof, all they had to do was walk into the rear of the jumpship. There was their proof, lying on the floor, holding his degenerate crotch, moaning like the pervert he had proven himself to be. Now he had to find Barn’t and Renhant. They were a team, and when guys were a team, they took care of their own. He knew that’s what they’d have to do here, stick together, stand up for one another, and take care of their own, no matter who got hurt.

Jer’son stopped and called out, just to hear his words spoken aloud, “No matter who gets hurt.” It sounded good to him. It sounded really good to him. He repeated the words louder, just to hear them once more, “No matter who gets hurt.” They echoed off the metal walls; and somehow, they made him stronger inside.

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