Wrath of the Void Strider (42 page)

“After you,” Takeo said to Filan, and they boarded.  Star marshals stood within the passenger section, and a friendly crewman collected their tickets, though he paused to study Fogg’s features.  He seemed about to ask Fogg a question, but abandon that line of thought with a shake of his head.  Takeo, Filan and Fogg settled in and soon heard the engines prime.  Her bay doors sealed shut, and the passenger starship disengaged from the docking clamps.

Fogg closed his eyes and felt the rush of sudden acceleration.  He listened to the passengers talk about the clouds and the stars.  He listened to Takeo and Filan talk quietly with each other and smiled at hearing her musical laughter.

Their pilot announced that the shuttle was in queue for the jump to warp, after which they would be traveling to Ayr System.  Upon arriving, they would be landing at the New Falkirk space port.  Their starship soon accelerated to warp speed.

Nearly a day had passed before they arrived in New Falkirk’s voidspace.  Filan and Takeo gushed about the beauty of the recently terraformed world, pointing to the landmarks they spotted on approach.  They admired the distant grandeur of their destination city.

Sooner than he preferred, the shuttle had docked.  Fogg didn’t open his eyes until the passenger bay door ramped fully open.  Takeo offered his hand.  “You ready?”

Fogg nodded, and he drew a deep breath.  “I am ready.”  He pushed against the armrests and got quickly to his feet.

He donned a dark blue jacket as they stepped out into a gentle, breezy rain.  It buffeted rows upon rows of soaring palms.  The trees stood starkly against white roads and suspension trains, against the clustered domes and globes of New Falkirk.  Spires rose from globular nexuses, standing behind dozens of sky car traffic lanes.  For every residential high-rise, there was a factory or processing plant.  On the horizon of the ash-white cityscape, a grand hospital doubled as a bold architectural wonder worthy of postcards and any tourist’s eager lens.

“Do you know where the auction shipyards are located?” asked Fogg.

Filan beckoned him closer.  “This way,” she answered with an encouraging smile.  “There’s a train station right over there.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” Takeo added.

After a moment of consideration, Fogg nodded.  “I am not blessed with the hunches afforded you by being human, but I am likewise experiencing a sense of general positivity regarding our mutual endeavor.”  He zipped up his jacket and jammed his hands in its pockets. 

Takeo laughed jovially.  “Well put,” he said with a grin, and they hurried through the rain.

·· • ··

In high orbit above Ry’lyeh, the
Wraithfin
docked at Edenbridge Station, alongside the remainder of the Union’s war fleets.  Dryden boarded a shuttle heading for the grand harborage and soon disembarked.  Dozens of starship captains cheered and saluted his arrival.  For some time, he listened to their stories and shared a few of his own.  Before long, he made his way to the
Wraithfin
and met Captain Hull at the C-Deck airlock.

Proudly, Hull directed the admiral to Gavin’s quarters, the last location entry in the starship’s log for Zerki, Valerie and Gavin.  With Hull at his back, Dryden made his way through the officers’ quarters to Gavin’s cabin and tapped the entry request panel.  Moments passed with no answer, and he hailed the occupants again.

“They’ve been bunking here the past couple nights,” Hull said.  “They’re usually up pretty late, so I let them sleep in.  Seems only fair, for all they’ve done for us, and they’re not exactly the military types.  Ragged around the edges, if you catch my meaning, sir.”

“I catch your meaning.”  Dryden faced him.  “Can you get me a ship’s status report?”

Hull nodded eagerly.  “Of course, sir!  I’ll be right back.”

With a thin smile, Dryden put his hands behind his back and followed Captain Hull with his eyes until he was out of sight.  He turned back around and placed his hand on the scanner.  The console beeped, and a tiny light turned from red to green before the door slid away.  He stepped inside.

Neither Zerki, nor Valerie, nor Gavin were there.  He checked behind the pane of smoky glass, but he found no sign of them.  His eyes drifted to the wall near Gavin’s bed, where he found a portrait of the
Sanguine Shadow
.  Dryden Decker returned his hands to the small of his back and smiled knowingly.

Hull arrived as Gavin’s door closed behind Dryden.  “Sir, is everything okay?”

Dryden nodded.  “Just fine.”  He regarded the
Wraithfin
’s captain.  “Operational Command has need of Mr. Santiago’s skills for a deep cover operation.  Captain Ibarra and Ensign Sawyer have been assigned to him, and they’re making preparations for departure.”

“They’re AWOL, aren’t they, sir.”

Dryden smiled implacably.  “We’ll see them again.”

“Damn it,” growled Hull.  “I knew I should’ve thrown him in the brig as soon as he got back from the summit!  Don’t worry, sir, I’ll issue a Union-wide order to have him and his friends picked up if they land on any of our territories.  I’ll have his family taken into custody immediately.”

“You’ll do no such thing.  In fact, I want you to get Santiago and his entire crew blanket immunity.”

Hull cleared his throat.  “Sir?”

“If we treat him like a monster, that’s exactly what he’ll become.”  He stared absently down the corridor, slowly shaking his head.  “Make no mistake, Captain Hull.  He could destroy this entire station with a single thought.  Hell, he has the power to destroy planets!  Eventually, he’ll realize that, and the fate of the Union will be determined largely by the mood he’s in when he does.”

Dryden began walking, and Hull followed close behind.  The admiral continued, “He’ll be on this particular deep cover operation for as long as it takes us to understand the data we gathered during the Battle of Thasad.  There’s a lot to sift through, but once we know how Gavin ticks, we’ll reel him in.”

“Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.”

“No need to be sorry.”

Chapter 27

Fogg gazed out his window as the elevated train he sat within zipped along its track, double-thumping quietly and rhythmically is it moved.  Twilight darkened the skies, and the lights of New Falkirk slowly awakened.  Fountains of color bathed a huddle of spires, and crystalline obelisks shifted slowly from white to yellow, to blue and back to white again.  Channels of light surged to life, embedded within clustered domes and globes.  Every building wore a colorful cloak or had been outlined in brilliant blue or white.  They formed halos in the rain.  Across the aisle, Filan leaned against Takeo, dozing intermittently.

The storm grew more determined as they traveled, and before long, they arrived at the train station nearest the shipyards.  Rain splashed down in curtains around a pristine awning, and the three huddled close while Filan used a municipal data terminal to hunt down local hotels.  “Perhaps we should visit the auction shipyards tomorrow morning,” said Fogg.  “The shipyards may still be open, but it is doubtful in this weather.”

“I’m sure the good starships go quickly, anyway,” agreed Takeo.  “There’d probably only be a poor selection available right now, rain or shine.”

Fogg nodded and smiled somewhat.

Filan straightened and regarded her friends.  “You know, there’s a Capsuloreum not too far from here.  It’s a little pricey, but we can definitely afford it for one night.” 

The Capsuloreum chain of exotic hotels was known for many things, not the least of which was its corporate slogan: “The square root of sense, the square of value, the derivative of comfort.”  Each structure was unique, vast in size and scope, built around opposing gravity keels and integrated repulsors.  Most onlookers found themselves stumped as they gazed upon a Capsuloreum for the first time, trying to make sense of endless stairs, Mobius footpaths and roofs that faced one another across short distances.  Each hotel was a local legend in its own right and often attracted tourists from distant worlds.

In addition to the exterior experience, Capsuloreums were famous for their rooms.  Whenever guests checked in, hotel computers assigned a random theme and printed out furniture sized precisely for each occupant.  Upon checkout, the room was gutted, its furniture dematerialized and stored for later use.

Filan grinned hopefully.  “You guys want to go?  I’ve always wanted to sleep on a bed made just for me.”

“I am intrigued,” said Fogg.  “I support this decision.”

“So do I,” said Takeo.  Looking to Filan, he said, “Lead the way.”

They took the lift to ground level, covering themselves with their jackets as they hurried for a taxi stop.  An automated cab pulled up promptly upon their arrival.  Buoyed by a magnetic undercarriage, its curved outer shell was made of tinted, traffic-grade transparent aluminum, and it seated up to four passengers.  A pair of white, egg-shaped chairs stood behind the glassy dashboard on a plastic floor of chartreuse green, and two slightly smaller egg-seats stood behind them at the extent of a gentle downward curve.

Without delay, the three climbed in, and Filan stated their destination.  Silently, the taxi glided into motion as rain drove upon its glassy shell.  “This vehicle is hovering low to the ground,” Fogg noted.  “I suspect its repulsors are on the verge of failure.”

“It’s probably a mag-lev system,” supposed Takeo.  “Municipal would never spend that much money on a fleet of sky taxis.”

Fogg puffed his cheeks.  “That is more likely.”

Before long, they reached the New Falkirk Capsuloreum and exited the cab.  Despite the rain, a small crowd stood under a crescent of softly glowing awnings.  They shot pictures and video, clustered in groups of friends, with the occasional lone viewer.  Nearby, a snack and coffee shop was busy with patrons seeking warmth and shelter.

What they gazed upon gave Takeo and Filan pause.  Fogg retained his unfailing curiosity.  Before them stood a field of stunted cylindrical pylons mounted to square, sloped bases.  The columns glowed softly, and the bases were trimmed in brilliant blue and yellow.  They held aloft a bed of massive, illuminated spheres, the sum of the hotel’s guest rooms.  At the heart of the cluster, an enormous glass disk hovered, the Capsuloreum’s featured restaurant and night club.  Bright and colorful lights flashed from within, and opposing gravity keels allowed the guests to dance upon the floor and the ceiling.

Filan led the way to the guest register, located directly under the disk.  They paid for a single room and rode a lift hidden within one of the columns.  A hatch swung open as they approached, and they stepped off onto a circular landing.  They followed a set of spiral stairs to a fantastic wooden door outlined in flowers and vines.  Beyond it, they found their quarters, decorated with bright and whimsical holograms.  Oversized flowers, toadstools and grass gave them the impression they had been miniaturized.

They ordered room service and lost themselves in cheerful conversation as they ate.  Hours later, they settled down to sleep.  Filan took one bed, Takeo took another, and Fogg slumbered on the third.

By first light, one of the beds was empty, and Filan lay next to Takeo snug against his back, her arm draped over his side.  He held her hand as he slept.  Fogg quietly awoke and stood up to stretch.

He took his time in the shower, enjoying the sensations of warm water splashing upon his skin, and he unhurriedly got dressed.  Carefully, he jostled Takeo’s shoulder, and his friend sleepily opened his eyes.  “I am going to acquire some breakfast.  After that, I mean to head for the shipyards.”

“I can be ready in ten minutes,” Takeo croaked, and he ran his tongue over his lips with a look of distaste.  “You don’t want to wait for me?”

Fogg lifted Filan’s hand from Takeo’s grip and let it drop with a limp smack against his arm.  She muttered something in her sleep and briefly stretched before settling.  “It is unlikely that you will be ready in ten minutes.”  He regarded them warmly.  “This moment that you are sharing is of far more value than keeping me company as I attempt to secure the most advantageous purchase price for a used starship.”  With a polite smile, he added, “Please trust me.”

Drowsily, Takeo pulled Filan’s hand closer and said, “Thanks, Fogg.  We’ll meet you at the shipyards in an hour or two.”

“I look forward to your arrival.”

Fogg stepped onto the exit plate.  After a three count, it transported him down to the foyer.  He finished his breakfast, and Fogg thanked the concierge before exiting the lobby.  He stepped out into a bright, cloudy morning.  The sidewalks were still soaked, and the air had the distinct smell that only follows a good rain.  With spring in his step, Fogg boarded a cab that carried him to the New Falkirk Metropolitan Shipyards

As vast as a starport, the shipyards were a clutter of dry-docked vessels ranging from the personal to the titanic.  Interspersed were holograms of even greater starships for sale, locked in orbit because they were too large, too damaged or too awkward to come planetside.  Hulls glistened in the rising sun.

Not long after he had arrived, a security guard opened the gates, and Fogg joined a dozen other shoppers as they quietly entered.  Already, bid placards had begun ticking up on many of the prized personal vessels.  He passed by most of the stock, walking until he had found the starship he sought.

Its placard read, “
UNSS Axiom
– AGSR 23019.”  Its fore half was spherical in shape and stood ten decks tell, twice as tall as the rest of the starship.  The bridge was seated dead center on top and curved down into the aft section.  Four decks spanned the squat, lengthy rear half and served as mounts for a quartet of articulated thruster nacelles, two of which doubled as landing struts.

He tabbed through her status lines.  Much of the interior needed cosmetic and functional attention, but her hull was sealed, her self-replenishing fuel core fully charged, and her internal framework was in excellent condition.  Life support still worked, and while the hydroponics deck was listed as “overgrown,” Fogg was unconcerned.