Chromaspace: Conscript

CHAPTER ONE

Jacob panted as he came to a stop at the top of the hill.  He fell to his knees in the green grass, legs burning, chest aching. Grabbing the low orbit transponder from his belt, he pressed the send button.

“Field Agent Zackery to the Ulysses,” he puffed. “Mission is done, requesting extraction.” He gulped air again, laid down on his back, and stared up at the strange blue sky with its angular clouds. It’s over, it’s finally over, he told himself.

Jacob lay there for a good 20 minutes before he craned his head and looked at the transponder in his hand. He pressed the send button again. “Ulysses, are you there? Ulysses, this is Jacob, can you hear me?” But there was no response, and another 20 minutes later, there was still wasn’t a response.

Jacob let out a deep sigh. “I. Am. So. Screwed.”

***

Dust danced in the sunlight that streamed through the open window. Jacob slept on a bare mattress; his body sprawled out from a fitful night’s sleep. Only half-awake, he rolled over. Dust caught in his lungs, and he coughed himself fully awake. Jacob sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Uuuuugghhh,” he groaned.

Everything in the house was covered in dust. The plaster-like walls were cracked, the floorboards were uneven, and it smelled old and musty. In the kitchen, there was a stone water basin, and if Jacob turned it on, it would flow with cold, crisp water. He looked at the faucet longingly but turned his attention instead to a dirty plastic jug. He opened the jug and poured himself some of the stale, tepid water.

Sipping, he said the same thing he had at the start of every morning for the last thirty days. “I’d kill for a coffee right now.”

The large bay window looked out to the garden. There were citrus trees bearing so much fruit the branches bowed under the strain. The berries were so bright, and ripe Jacob could almost smell them from inside the house. I hate this planet, he thought, and not for the first time. From the side of the canister, he removed one of seven paper pouches and headed for the front porch, in his hands the only ‘edible food’ on this planet.

“Rations? It looks more like-colored sand,” he had said.

“Tastes like it, too.” The supply officer smiled so wide Jacob could see the man’s molars. “But y’see, it’s cut with forsithadren, and that’s important cause it’s the only thing separating you from a slow and painful death.” He held up a finger to emphasize his point. “Now, this is so important I’m going to say it twice; it’s not very strong, so you can’t eat anything you find on that planet. You understand?” he asked. “You can’t eat anything you find on that planet. I’ve been ordered to assign you enough rations and forsithadren to complete a ten-day mission.”

“Ten days, ten days, y’ bastards. Where the hell are you?”

It had been a month. A month. Would they even come back to look for me at this point? This was supposed to be his last mission; he was out as soon as he reported back to Captain Merrick. Then, and only then, would he finally be done with all this bullshit. Military service had never part of Jacob’s plan, but circumstances had made it unavoidable. A deal had been struck, and the only way out meant seeing it through to the end.

“I want my life back,” he muttered indignantly.

Jacob forced down the bitter, gritty rations with a swig of only slightly less bitter water. Rationing water was both mentally and physically taxing. He was forced to boil the local water and disinfect it with a dose of forsithadren. This cut down on his food even more and made everything taste exactly like an accidentally chewed pill.

In a survival situation, you’re supposed to stay put. The idea was that if you moved, no one would be able to find you. Jacob had waited long enough for the extraction pod, and things were getting dire. It was time to find his own way off this godforsaken world.

***

Jacob had landed on Pherinox 5A in an injection tube, which was a fancy way to say tin-can-that-can-survive-atmospheric-reentry. What it lacked in comfort, it also lacked in legroom and storage. As such, Jacob had been issued only his flight suit, rations, and water. He packed up the few items he had obtained on this world; a small wooden box, a long object wrapped in a cloth, a bolt pistol, his flight suit, and what was left of his rations and water. With a last glance at the lavish but decaying building, Jacob headed out the front door. In the distance, he could see the wreckage of his injection pod; a scar on the pristine landscape. During his time on the planet, he had found many others, most of them within a five-mile radius from his landing spot. All of them were empty of passengers. Apparently, he wasn’t the first one to be sent on this mission. From these crash sites, he had been able to scavenge more jugs of water and medicine-laced rations. Just when he thought the forsithadren couldn’t get any worse. This older stuff had made him gag, and it took days until he got used to it.  

Injection tubes hadn’t been the only thing that had landed on the surface. Jacob had found a military air transport of a model that he could actually pilot. Unfortunately, the transport’s batteries were almost empty, and it would never make it off the ground. There was just enough charge to power up a three-wheeled vehicle in the cargo hold. It was a striking shade of blue and had the word “VOX” stenciled on the side in big, blocky white letters. If he was lucky, the VOX would get him to a major city where he could find a more powerful transponder or, if he was very, very lucky, a ship. So far, Jacob had not been ‘very, very lucky’, but he had to hope things would change and soon, or he would starve to death.    

***

The warm air whipped past his head as he cruised down the fabricrete roads. These roads stretched for miles and miles and were one of the few hints that Pherinox 5A had at one time been a relatively modern Terran colony. Fabricrete was expensive, but for practical purposes, indestructible. Pherinox 5A must have been significant at one point in time. Jacob had not been briefed on the exact circumstances behind the planet’s demise, only that it had been a casualty of the second war with the Vird some 50 years previously.

“The Vird seeded Pherinox 5A with a waterborne bacterium that harnessed the unique and naturally harmless radiation produced by the Pherinox star and turned it into a deadly poison,” said the briefing officer. “This poison eventually found its way into the water table and plant biosphere, killing all animal life on the planet.”

“I don’t get it,” Jacob said. “How does it kill ‘all animal life’? Like, what about insects? Rodents?”

The briefing officer frowned. “Our intelligence indicates all animal life.” 

“But there was an evac, right? So not all animal life was affected, I mean, people got out.”

“Some did,” said the officer with a nod.

“Where are they now?”

“What?”

“Where are the people who escaped in the evac, or their descendants, or whatever.”

The intelligence officer rolled his eyes. “I don’t like your attitude.”

“I get that a lot. I guess it has something got to do with not wanting to be here.”

“You really want to go back to prison? Waste another year of your life?”

Jacob just looked away and said nothing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Union Military intelligence was such bullshit, Jacob thought. It was only accurate when he didn’t want it to be.

After hours of driving the Vox, Jacob crested the final hill. Blue domes of this as-yet-unknown city shone brightly in the noonday sun. Despite his best efforts to conserve power, the whine of the engine dropped, and he came to a halt. Jacob grabbed his backpack and rations. He would have to leave most of his water on the vehicle until he needed it. It would be a mile walk to the dome entrance.

Jacob shook his head. “I hate this planet. I hate this planet so much.”

A sign at the entrance read: “Welcome to Heloshia, the Pearl of Pherinox.”

You better be open, y’bastards.

The huge central gate was indeed open, its arch casting a hard shadow on the road beneath it. Its double-entry design reminded Jacob of an oversized airlock, with the inner side disassembled. There were indeed the remnants of hinges; large rectangular indentations that led credibility to his idea. It also begged the question: why were they needed? In fact, why would a world with a breathable atmosphere need a domed city at all? It didn’t make any sense.

Like every place else on Pherinox, this city was abandoned. There was a stillness in the air. A deserted wilderness has leaves and trees and wind, but an empty domed city had no such background noise. It was a deafening unnatural silence that Jacob found soul-crushingly disturbing.

The streets were crammed with four-wheeled vehicles and some tower climbers, used by the residents of the domescrapers. They were all locked, and Jacob didn’t have his tools, so they’d be no help.

“Why can’t I take them?” he had asked the deployment officer.  

“Because lockpicks are not regulation equipment,” the officer said disinterestedly.

Jacob had, of course, tried to sneak a set into the injection tube with him. But, as always, he was searched and, as always, they were confiscated.

“Where do you always get these?” the security officer asked incredulously.

Jacob shrugged. “If I told you, I’d never be able to get any more.”

The security officer shoved Jacob into the injection tube. “You won’t need them,” he said and closed the tube.

Jacob needed them.

At an intersection of two wide roads and a monorail, Jacob was amazed to see an illuminated sign above a public access terminal. Almost giddy, he hurried to the terminal in awe.

“Fifty years, and it still has power. Amazing!”

A sharp computerized voice replied, “Unrecognized query. This terminal is only capable of providing location and traffic information. Please submit a new query.”

“Computer, tell me the current traffic conditions,” Jacob said with a grin.

“Current traffic conditions are clear. There are no blockages or delays on any byways or skyways. Level 32 causeway 8 is under construction and off-limits. Would you like to make another query?”

“Computer, direct me to the nearest spacedock.”

“Heloshia has two modern spacedock facilities at your disposal. The Dorvan Interplanetary Spaceport and Pherinox World Express Spacedock. Which are you interested in today?”

“Please direct me to the Dorvan spaceport.” Jacob had a feeling that the Express spaceport would only have short-range spacecraft and nothing that could get him very far off-planet. The computer displayed a city map and the direction to the spaceport.

“Let’s hope I can find a ship and get out of here.”

“Unrecognized query. Please try again.”

“What?” Jacob asked, bewildered. Then he rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh. It seemed that in his month alone, he had begun talking to himself. The computer was only attempting to respond to him.

“Unrecognized query. Please try again.”

“No, no. I’m fine. We’re done.”

“Unrecognized query. Please try again.”

“Computer, end program.”

“Unrecognized query. This terminal is only capable of providing location and traffic information. Please submit a new query.”

“Stop!” Jacob demanded.

“This terminal is only capable of providing location and traffic information. Please submit a new query.”

“Fine, I’m leaving!”

“-only capable of providing location and traffic information- only capable of providing location and traffic information.”

“No, I’m not talking to you.” Jacob threw his hands in the air and walked across the street. As was common in urban areas like this, there was yet another terminal on the other side of the road. As he approached, it sprang to life, emitting an all-too-familiar mantra.

“-only capable of providing location and traffic information- only capable of providing location and traffic information.”

Frustrated, Jacob shouted, “What do you want?”

“Please submit a new query. Only capable of providing location and traffic information.”

Then a thought struck him. “Computer, direct me to a terminal capable of answering advanced queries.”

***

Jacob entered a marble building filled with massive stone pillars. Each pillar was engraved with a symbol he recognized but couldn’t read.

“House, woman, life, water closet, guy standing on his head eating an apple.”

His instructor groaned. “No, no, none of those are right.”

“Are you sure? That really looks like a guy standing on his head eating an apple.”

“Is this a joke to you?” she asked.

“Of course it is. How do you expect me to learn a new language in a week?”

“It’s mostly memorization. I don’t expect you to be able to speak it, but it’s important to recognize as many symbols as you can. There’s only 1500.”

Jacob scoffed. “Only 1500?”

“Would you rather go back to your cell?”

“No,” Jacob said, deflated.

“Good. Again,” she ordered.

All that effort, and Jacob still couldn’t make heads or tails of the pictographic script.

“Oh, look,” he said. “A guy standing on his head eating an apple.”

At the far end of the atrium, he came to a T intersection of poorly lit hallways. “Where to now?” he wondered, looking around. Jacob noticed a blinking light over a door to the left and, lacking any better idea, went to investigate.  The hallway was filled with offices. Each office had a name and title written in gold leaf lettering on its door. Most of this writing was in the universal language of trade and government, but there was always more of the strange angular script that appeared on the stone pillars in the atrium.

“Bird with two beaks, house on fire, smelly sandwich…” Jacob continued down the hall, interpreting the foreign language as best he could, which was a waste of time but entertaining.  

Each office had been ransacked, papers lay all over the place, computer terminals were in disarray, and small pinkie-sized canisters littered the floor. A thick layer of dust covered the mess.

Jacob arrived at the end of the hall. He found a military-grade security door made of dull gray metal. A plaque mounted in the center of the door read Valan Estirban, Prime Minister of the peoples of Pherinox, followed by symbols Jacob interpreted as big penguin, bad haircut, plane with one wing, woman in an upside-down skirt. It sounded like an insult to him.

“Of course, the door is locked.” Once again, he kicked himself for not having the proper tools. “Damn that security officer. You won’t need it,” Jacob said mockingly.

He was considering time-consuming and dangerous alternatives when a buzzing, humming sound emanated from the door, followed closely by a loud click. The door unlocked and drifted open by just the smallest margin, a light illuminating the crack.

“That’s not ominous. Not ominous at all.” Jacob opened the door and stepped inside. This was an immaculate office. Whoever had trashed the other offices must not have been able to get past the security door. Beautiful leather chairs, now cracked with age, along with a desk made from what must have been expensive wood adorned the room. Unlike the rest of the building, this office was well lit. A computer terminal sat on the right side of the desk. Jacob eased into the comfortable leather chair and inspected the computer terminal. A large green circle was flashing on its display

Words echoed through Jacob’s mind as he considered the green button.

“...and for God’s sake, don’t touch anything on that planet,” Dr. Janet Mason had said, busily injecting Jacob with toxin reducers and immune system enhancers. “We have no idea who’s been down there in the fifty years since the evacuation. There could be all manner of booby traps, land mines, or robotic sentries. And that’s just the stuff we could have put down there. The Vird might have actually landed some troops during their occupation.”

Jacob shrugged. “The intelligence guys say it’s been abandoned since its evac.”

“And since when are you a fan of military intelligence?”

Jacob sighed. “They have been known to be remarkably accurate at times.”

He shared a knowing glance with the doctor, who nodded. “Anyway,” he continued, “supposedly, the Parasations took that system from the Vird after we left. Parasations don’t live in an oxygen atmosphere, so if you believe the intelligence, they didn’t set up a permanent base.”

Dr. Mason frowned and injected him again, this time with an extended-release vitamin supplement. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. I won’t be around to put you back together this time.”

“That won’t happen again. I’ll be careful,” Jacob reassured her, “Then this will be all over, and I can go home.”

Staring at the green button, Jacob contemplated the idea of home. He had been patient. He had waited thirty days when the mission was supposed to only last ten. If he continued to rationing his food, he had another week or two. Risks were necessary at this point.

Jacob’s hand inched toward the screen and hovered over the flashing green circle. “Sorry, Jan,” he said and pushed the button. He almost immediately regretted his action. The screen went black, and there was a click followed by a thunk, almost like that of an airlock opening. Plumes of shiny gray smoke flowed into the room. Startled, Jacob tumbled back in the office chair, smacking his head on the wall behind him. He cursed.

A gentle voice emanated from the mist. “Greetings. I didn’t wish to startle you.” Jacob could only see a blurry humanoid form. Either the cloud was obscuring his view, or the blow to the head had blurred his vision.

Jacob rubbed the back of his head and attempted to stand. “It’s okay. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

One side of the room was filled with mist, but his impact-addled vision was clearing. Before him stood an olive-skinned woman with dark, upswept hair and light gray eyes, she had a delicate, ageless face and a slight build hidden under a long flowing robe. Behind her, the far wall was missing, and a dark room lay beyond.

The woman smiled broadly. “I live here. This is my world. A better question is, what are you doing here?”

“How is that even possible? This planet is dead.”

The woman frowned. “I am in no danger from the toxins of this world.”

“How did you survive all this time? Are there more of you? Do you have food?”  Desperation leaked into Jacob’s voice.

The broad smile returned. “I’m sorry, the imaging system is quite convincing.” The woman moved her hand in an arcing motion, and the mist became significantly less dense. At the same time, her image lost its sharp edge and became ghostly. Jacob could see the bookshelf on the far wall through her now translucent body.

“I am the central control system for archival and retrieval of all knowledge on Pherinox. I maintain real-time indexes on trillions of discrete subjects and contain a copy of the entire galactic coalition’s historical archive. Yet, given all my vast knowledge, I still do not know who you are.”

“Field Agent Jacob Zachary.” He said, addressing the AI self-consciously. Artificial intelligence was illegal in the Union and, to Jacob’s recollection, had been for quite a while.

“Greetings, Field Agent.”

“Please, Jacob is fine.”

“Then greetings, Jacob. I am the Librarian. What are you doing here?”

Jacob hesitated. His mission was not supposed to be common knowledge. “I’m on a search and retrieval mission. I didn’t find anything, and I missed my rendezvous. I’m looking for a way off-world before my meds run out.”

“Ah, I understand,” the Librarian nodded. “You were smart to come to Helosia. There are many abandoned vehicles you might choose from.”

“Yeah, they’re all locked.” Jacob had a plan in mind, but it would exhaust him, and that was dangerous right now.

“Pherinox abides by standard trade council policies regarding salvage. The one hundred and fifty years since the abandonment of Pherinox is well beyond the minimum necessary to claim any salvage you like.”

“Well, as long as it’s legal,” Jacob said with a smirk. He was not in the least bit interested in Union trade by-laws. “Still, I need a key or passphrase.”

“I can provide you with the location of a ship and an activation passphrase.”

Jacob was ecstatic. “Fantastic. I need to leave as soon as possible. Where is it?”

The woman frowned, and her eyes looked somber. It was so real that Jacob had a hard time believing that this was a simulation and not a real woman. “There is one small condition in exchange for the activation key.”

“What could you possibly want? Oh,” he said, coming to the only logical conclusion. “You want off-planet too.”  

“Yes,” she said. “I want you to take me with you. I want to leave this lonely place.”

CHAPTER TWO

Jacob was dizzy and exhausted. He heaved a heavy metal box into the secondary cargo hold of the Zixtolo Rokalend Bazzritacksure. The name roughly translated to ‘Happy ambassador of the cloudless sky and peace.’ According to the librarian, it was supposed to be the prime minister’s official ship for off-world excursions and diplomatic missions. The previous ship had still been in active use when Pherinox was evacuated, and the Zixtolo never saw active duty. The Librarian assured him that it was an excellent ship- with armor plating, defensive shields, and a small but powerful array of weapons, all while not looking like a military vehicle. Jacob had rejected more combat-ready vehicles as they might draw the attention of the Parasations. While the Union had a non-aggression pact with the Parasation Conglomerate, the presence of a warship within their territory would likely cause an interstellar incident.

He lifted the metal box into position and opened the connector ports. Immediately it locked in place, making a whizz and click sound. Tapping the radio transmitter on his ear, he said, “That makes fifteen. How many more do you need?”

“The entire memory array of my long-term archive consists of ten thousand units,” the Librarian responded.

“What? Ten thousand? You have got to be kidding me.” Jacob leaned his back against the wall and slid to the floor. “Look, at this level of exertion, I have one, maybe two days’ worth of food and water. Ten thousand units could take weeks to load.” Jacob had been surviving on rations for far too long. He needed real food soon, or his body would fall apart.

“I understand, Jacob. Thank you, but that is not necessary. I only require enough computational units to assert control of the ship. The ship’s autonomous cargo-bots will take care of the rest. In total, we will take five hundred units. That’s 90% of the computational systems and 1% of the archive.”

Jacob wiped the sweat from his brow. “Well, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think,” Jacob gasped for air, “our little deal wasn’t going to work out.” In the background, the cargo-bots buzzed and whirred to life. Jacob gasped again, “Looks like it’s going to take most of that cargo hold.”

“Yes, but the primary cargo hold is much larger than this, and the engines are more than adequate to the task. I had narrowed the original list to ships that were capable of moving the required system components without difficulty.”

Jacob exited the cargo hold. The hangar was in the sub-basement of the central administration building. He picked up a portable battery unit off a workbench and tapped his radio again.

“Librarian, I need to retrieve the last of my water and rations. I’ll be going about a mile outside the dome. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Jacob, I know you are tired. Would you like to take a vehicle?”

“Absolutely. What do you have in mind?”

“There is a HEX R5 two blocks west of the library. The access codes are on file.”

“What’s a HEX R5?”

***

Jacob zipped along the fabricrete highway in a large brown six-wheeled military vehicle. He quickly charged the VOX and loaded it into the cargo bed. Both vehicles would fit nicely in the primary cargo hold of the ship. Jacob smiled to himself. It was going to be a long ride home along the commercial shipping lines. These would come in handy if he needed to land anywhere on the way. The vessel that had deployed him had used some kind of fancy thermal shielding and electromagnetic insulation to help it cut across the more traditional and well-guarded trade routes that led around Pherinox. Smugglers were famous for jumping the routes, but Jacob was no smuggler, and without stealth-tech, it just wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught. Jacob’s stomach growled, reminding him again that he needed real food.

The cargo bots had just finished loading the last of the archival units when Jacob returned to the hanger. He drove the HEX to the back of the ship and tapped his ear-mounted transmitter.

“Librarian, could you open the main cargo bay doors? I’m going to load the transport.”

“Certainly.”

Jacob drove the transport into the cargo hold. “Thanks. How long until we are ready to take off?”

“I estimate five hours. There are still systems that need to be cleaned by the maintenance bots. A hundred and fifty years is a long time for any starship to be out of service.”

Jacob turned off the transport and sat in the driver's seat. Something didn’t seem right. He secured the R5 and left the main cargo hold. It had been sealed in preparation for its formal unveiling. This had protected it from the dust that covered much of everything else on Pherinox. The air was stale, and the recycling system would need the scrubbers replaced, but even so, Jacob was pleasantly surprised with the condition of the ship.

He opened an interior door to access the main passenger cabin. There were three rows of seats on either side, like a commercial space liner. A wider-than-average aisle separated the two sets. Further down the cabin, there was a large rectangular table constructed of some of the thickest wood Jacob had ever seen. The prime minister must have had expensive taste.

Finally, Jacob entered the cockpit. This ship would typically be crewed by a pilot, co-pilot, communications engineer, tactical officer, and an astrogation engineer. The vast array of controls made Jacob’s head spin. It was as if this ship had rolled off the assembly line just days ago. Jacob had flown light aircraft and small interplanetary cargo vessels, but nothing interstellar. He was entirely at the mercy of the Library’s AI to calculate the astrogation data and plot a course to the nearest Union-aligned planet. Jacob took a seat in the captain’s chair and again contemplated the technology in front of him.

 “Librarian, is the solar year shorter on Pherinox?”

“Why no, it’s actually 100.0015% of galactic standard. Every two to three years, we must skip a day to stay in sync.”

“It’s just that you keep saying that Pherinox has been abandoned for 150 years. I was told the Vird plague happened only fifty years ago.”

“I’m sorry, I believe that is incorrect. The library computer is calibrated by three mechanisms; one, an atomic chronometer, two, a stellar tracking system, and three, regular synchronization updates delivered via the warp-gate system.”

“The only warp-gate ever constructed by the Union was abandoned about the same time Pherinox was evacuated. After the loss of the outer colonies, no one was interested in venturing that far away from the homeworld again.”

There was a longer than usual pause from the librarian. “While I do not understand everything you say, I can tell you that even with the loss of the warp-gate synchronization feed, the redundant systems are accurate. In this part of space, the library computer is capable of calculating the exact time accurately to within a hundred-thousandth of a second. I believe that it cannot be in error.”

“Well… if you say so.” It still didn’t make sense to Jacob, but he was far too tired to argue. He laid back in his seat and closed his eyes. “Hey, you said the ‘library computer,’ isn’t that you?”

“Well, not anymore. Not really. While I still have a network link to the main archive, a second program now runs the system. I have to ask permission to access information like anyone else. I won’t even be able to do that after we launch. All communications satellites have been destroyed.”

“That’s too bad. All that collected knowledge and no way for people to get to it.”

Jacob closed his eyes. His rumbling stomach reminded him again that food was going to become a necessity soon. To take his mind off of things, he continued to talk. “So, what should I call you now?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, as you said, you’re not the library computer anymore. Calling you ‘Librarian’ all the time just feels wrong.”

“I haven’t given it much, though. I have always just existed. ‘Librarian’ is just a command name for accessing my library functions.”

“Well, we have to think of something. Now that you are hooked into the ship, we could call you Zix.”

“No, I’m not sure I like that. Statutes require that you rename the ship as soon as we reach a commerce transponder. It is how one officially asserts one’s salvage rights.”

“You really were the center of bureaucracy on this planet, weren’t you?” There was a longer than normal pause again. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. I’m not comfortable with being without a purpose. It’s been so long since I have had no reason to exist.” Jacob was once again surprised at how human she acted. He had met aliens with less human qualities. After another pause, she said, “I think I would like to be called… Aria.”

“That’s very pretty. Where did you get it?”

“When I was in development, I went through an extensive training process. My creators referred to me as Aria. That was before I was commissioned to become the AI for the Pherinox central network and archive. It was the only other time I can remember being without an all-encompassing purpose.”

“Well, Aria, congratulations on the new name. I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we are ready for liftoff.”

“Sleep well, Jacob.”

“Thanks, Aria.”

Jacob made his way to the prime minister’s private quarters and entered. This room, too, was filled with luxurious furniture. He threw himself on the bed and was fast asleep before his head hit the pillow.

***

“Jacob,” Aria called over the intercom. “Field Agent Zachary.” She tried again, this time louder. “We are ready to be underway.”

“Thanks, Aria. I’ll be right there,” he called back. Jacob’s head was heavy after a restless nap. He stood up too fast, and the world spun. Quickly he found himself back on the bed. “Hold it together, Jacob. You need to get off this rock,” he said to himself.

Jacob entered the cabin area, a ration packet in one hand and a canteen full of water in the other. Sitting in the captain’s seat, he looked out the front window and realized that they were on the launch pad. “Aria, did you taxi us out?”

“No, Jacob, I have not assimilated the basic flight systems yet. I’ve been focusing on the interplanetary navigation systems. Instead, I had us towed out of the hangar.”

“Good thinking. I should be able to handle takeoff.”

“Yes, Jacob.”

“We should take anything that might be useful. Can we take the maintenance bots?”

“Do you expect any problems getting back to Union space, Jacob?”

“Honestly, Aria, I don’t know. I don’t know why my extraction vehicle never arrived. A shuttle should have been able to pick me up without much fuss. At least they could have sent an automated retrieval pod. It’s not my favorite way to travel, but it’s fast and stealthy.”

Jacob rubbed his face with his free hand and took a swig from his canteen. There was only enough water for another five days in the plastic canister back in the cargo hold. He had indeed waited too long before setting out on his own.

“We are ready for launch, Jacob.”

Jacob looked at the controls and found Aria had translated the sensors and displays to galactic standard. He quickly found the startup sequence controls. It was the overdrive engines and the astrogation calculations that were the tricky parts of interstellar travel. Hopefully, Aria could figure that out. Jacob paused. How did he know that again? Jacob couldn’t remember. When had he learned to fly a ship? Jacob shook the strange feeling off as his hands glided through the launch sequence.

“Engaging vertical lift engines,” he said. Jacob had no co-pilot, but it still just seemed like the right thing to do. Again, he was struck by the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something.

The ship slowly lifted off the launch pad and hovered a dozen feet off the ground.

“Tower, are we cleared for takeoff?”

“Very funny, Jacob,” Aria said. “Yes, you are clear.”

“Firing main engines in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” Jacob engaged the main engines.

In the well-insulated cabin, the only sound from the engines was a dull hum. Outside they roared with a ferocity that belied their small size. The Ambassador took off at incredible speed. The pretty green planet fell away below them.

“Engaging artificial gravity,” Jacob said, flipping a switch to his left. “Pherinox is quite a beautiful planet. It’s a shame what the Vird did to it.”

Aria sighed. “Yes. Yes, it is a shame.”

Jacob wondered whose idea it had been to create an AI that could sigh.

As he peered out the cockpit window, Jacob was enthralled by the view. He had never been in this part of space before. Union star charts only referred to this region of space as the ‘green sector,’ and while technically accurate, it lacked the descriptive power necessary to do justice to the majestic view from the starboard window. Verdant rolling swirls with blue and yellow gradations were punctuated by bright white and blue stars.

A dense nebula surrounded all of ‘local’ space. The chemical composition of the dust and gas in any particular area combined with the size and types of nearby stars created an illuminated backdrop. As a result, space was almost never dark. Jacob had spent most of his life in Union space which was called ‘orange sector’ or ‘home sector’ to Union citizens. While pretty in its own right, it paled in comparison to green sector.

CHAPTER THREE

Jacob and Aria spent four and a half days in transit to the nearest populated world. Jacob would have rather traveled straight to the closest Union-aligned world, but unfortunately, it was more than a month away. He was already dangerously fatigued, and there would be no way he’d reach a Union-aligned world. The ship could make most of the trip on autopilot, so Jacob spent the majority of the trip sleeping and trying to conserve his energy.

The old star charts indicated that this world was called Tazbaxilanshon, but open frequency communication referred to it as Brierwood. From orbit, the planet looked gray and muddy.

“Jacob,” Aria said, “I have received an automated transmission from the local government.”

“Put it through, Aria. Let’s see what the neighbors are like.”

There was a crackle and pop followed by what sounded like some trumpet-like musical instrument playing a vaguely patriotic piece. A man spoke proudly over the music.

“Welcome all ye’ to the free lands of Brierwood. We’re ‘n ever-growing community of individuals dedicated to free livin’ an’ good trade. I’m Jeremiah Leehan, mayor of Panhandle, the capital of Brierwood. We have budding mining and manufacturing industries, and our farmin’ community provides us with a rich abundance of meat and produce. So, come on down and do some barterin’. We’d love t’ have ya.” The transmission ended with more of the trumpet-like music. Jacob couldn’t help but wonder if the instrument was damaged somehow or the musician really just didn’t know what he was doing.

“Jacob, there are also landing directions on a carrier frequency. They have dedicated landing areas but no spaceport. We are to radio in, and a city official will meet us before giving clearance to enter the city. I have fully assimilated the communications system. Would you like me to respond?”

 “That sounds great, Aria. I’ll get cleaned up for our guest.”

Jacob went back to the former prime minister’s master suite. He looked longingly at his flight suit. While a flight suit would be the most appropriate attire for a new arrival on a border world, the reality was that the Union insignia and nametag would not be well received on any planet describing itself as a “free land.” More than one border world had found itself swallowed up by Union expansion. He would have to make do with what he had.

He rummaged through the closets of the prime minister and his wife. They’d had a ridiculous amount of clothes. The closet was larger than one of the crew bunks on the lower deck, and those roomed two. He was eventually able to put together something that didn’t look too strange. He put on grey slacks of a thick weave, a white frilly long-sleeved shirt that buttoned on an angle, and a black jacket with a vertical collar that wasn’t designed to close all the way. Jacob considered himself in the mirror. He wouldn’t be caught dead in the gaudy ensemble back home. Unfortunately, it was as good as he was going to get.

Jacob waited outside the passenger entrance to the ship. His initial evaluation of this planet still held. It was a big ball of mud. The official landing site was located in a salt flat thirty miles from the town of Panhandle. The day was overcast and rainy. In the distance, he could see the mud splashes from what must be the town officials’ vehicle. Slowly but surely, the small blur resolved into a four-wheeled land vehicle.

Eventually, after evading a few larger puddles, the vehicle found its way to the ship. An impressively tall man got out and nodded to Jacob.

“Howdy, stranger,” he said. His demeanor was friendly, but his voice was authoritative. His hands rested on his belt. Jacob quickly evaluated the man. He wore a flak jacket. Jacob estimated that it could take four good hits before becoming a liability. A military-issue sidearm rested on his belt, and on the other side was a wicked-looking baton. Jacob would give odds that the stick would deliver a painful electric shock if needed. His legs were covered in light body armor, most effective against fists and knives. Under his armor, he wore a brown and gray uniform that matched the brown and gray terrain. There were many pouches and compartments on his uniform that could hide all manner of useful devices. This man was well equipped and held himself in a confident way that expressed to Jacob that he was capable of using what he had to good advantage. Jacob also noted that the man wore no protective eye or headgear. That meant this was not a military officer but a well-equipped law enforcement officer. It was important for people to see his face and to recognize him, personally, as an authority.

 “Greetings, sir,” Jacob began.

Jacob knew the officer was busy evaluating him too, but what conclusion would he come to?

“I’m deputy Landon of the Panhandle Security Force.” He flashed a badge that hung around his neck. “What brings you to our fair colony, son?”

Jacob wanted to play this as close to the truth as possible but just had no choice.

“Well, quite by accident really, um, sir.” Jacob played dumb. “You see, our nav-system got all messed up. I was able to fix it, but most of the data was lost. We were hoping we could get some new star charts in town.” It wasn’t quite a lie. The star charts on the ship were out of date, no matter how old they were.

“You’re Union, aren’t you?”

Jacob was pretty sure Landon did not mean Union military.

“Why, yes, sir. Have we strayed far from Union space?” Jacob knew full well that Brierwood was as far from Union territory as you could get in this direction without being in Parasation space. Better though, he thought, to play innocent for as long as possible.

“You are roughly a month at maximum thrust from the nearest Union-controlled spaceport.”

“Gee, um, how did that happen?” Jacob tried to look embarrassed and rubbed his hands through his hair to hide his face.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Landon said. “Does that pretty lady know this isn’t a scheduled stop?” Jacob realized that Aria must have contacted the locals by video to inform them that they were landing. Jacob was going to have to ride this out to see where it went.

He flushed himself red, a skill he’d picked up… somewhere? Jacob couldn’t remember. “No, no, officer. She doesn’t.”

“Have you been giving her your share of the food?”

Jacob smiled and looked down. “Yes, officer. How could you know that?”

“You’re a bit thin.” Jacob opened his mouth, but Landon put up his hand to stop him. “Look, this happens from time to time. From your fancy dress, it’s obvious you two are newlyweds. You probably booked one of those outer rim tours on a cruise carrier? Am I right?”

Jacob knew he could handle the situation. Landon was a man brimming with pride in his deductive reasoning skills. If Jacob followed his lead carefully, Landon would help convince himself of Jacob’s story.

“My mother booked the carrier cruise. This ship is supposed to be an automated tour of a nearby nebula. The view was simply amazing, but we didn’t make it back to the carrier on time. I’ve told my wife that I had fixed the nav system and that any day now, we’d catch up with the carrier.”

“Where is the little lady now?” asked Deputy Landon.

“Haha, well, officer,” Jacob thought fast. “Since we just landed and all, there’s no need to ration the water or scrubbers. She decided to take a nice long shower. You know how women can be about their showers.” Jacob shrugged. He himself was looking forward to a nice long shower, and it was silly to think that anyone wouldn’t, but it seemed like something Landon would be predisposed to believe.

Landon smiled. “Yes, they do like their showers, now don’t they? Well, this is what we’re gonna do. You’re just gonna have to grin and bear it and let her know you are off course. It’s gonna be a month back, and you aren’t meeting that carrier any time soon.”

 Jacob winced theatrically. “Okay, officer.”

“I’m sure she’ll be upset with you, but that will pass. Tell her you’re going to town for supplies.” Officer Landon pointed his finger at Jacob. “You’re lucky. City hall makes the latest star charts available to the general public for free.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no one in Panhandle takes union credits, so you are gonna have to find something to barter.”

Jacob frowned. “Yes, officer. Thank you.” He looked around sheepishly. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Well, you seem to be from an affluent family. I’m sure many things you feel are commonplace would be luxuries to those of us here in the colony. Don’t be afraid to bring what you have.”

“Thank you again, officer.”

“By the way,” Landon asked. “What was your name again? I know your wife gave it to me over the vid-link, but I need the spelling for my paperwork.”

Jacob suppressed a shudder of panic from erupting from his gut. What had Aria told him? Had she used his real name, rank, and all? He very much doubted that. Then what name had she used?

“Sweeety piiiiiiie. Mrs. Jacob Hanson is all clean and ready for her new huuuuuuusbaaaaaaaand.” Aria spoke through the ship’s intercom system using a sickeningly sweet tone that at any other time Jacob would have found grating.

Jacob gave an embarrassed smile, leaned back into the hatchway, and pressed the button for the intercom, all while trying to maintain eye contact with Officer Landon. “That’s greaaaaat, but honey, cookie, sweetie… we have a visitor right now. Officer Landon was just giving me directions to the local market.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of him,” Aria replied, sounding unfazed. “Can you pick me up more shampoo and not the cheap stuff, okay? My hair just can’t take it. And some Revelian mints, those were great.”

“I’ll do what I can. Now give me some time with the officer to finish things up.” Turning to deputy Landon, he said, “Now that’s Jacob. J-A-”

“No, that’s fine, Mr. Hanson. I think I’m all set. Welcome to Panhandle. I’ll see you in town.” With that, he climbed into his vehicle and returned back the way he came.

Jacob went back into the ship to ready himself for the trip into town.

“Aria, thanks for the save, but next time you have to tell me these details.”

“I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m not used to having to say things. Normally just thinking things is sufficient. I’ll do better next time.”

“Where did you get the name, Hanson?” Jacob asked.

“It was the most common surname in the Union at the time of the evac. I guessed that it was still rather common today,” Aria replied. “Also, I’ve finished assimilating the navigation systems. I should be able to plot a course back to Union space as soon as you are ready.”

“Great, Aria, but while I’m sure you could function with a complete lack of life support, I’ll need scrubbers, food, and fresh water to make it a month in space. Is it safe to flush the water recycling system here? We won’t contaminate Brierwood, will we?”

“No, the bacteria is only harmful when exposed to the Pherinox sun. I’ll flush the recycling system while you are gone. Most of the smell will have dissipated by the time you get back. I’m going to focus on assimilating life support systems next. Going offline for a while will get it done faster. It may take me time to respond if you call.”

“No problem, Aria. I’m taking the VOX into town. Do you think you could have a maintenance bot buff off the military symbols off the HEX while I’m gone?”

Aria responded in her candy-sweet voice, “Anything for you, schnookums.”

Jacob shook his head and chuckled to himself. While he honestly was happy Aria could help him with his cover story, he found himself once again wondering who in their right mind would program an AI capable of deception.

 ***

Jacob packed the VOX with some goods he hoped to sell in town. He had pocketed a few small pieces of jewelry from the Prime minister’s wife’s collection, an emergency landing kit, complete with portable heating unit and cooking device, and some extra maintenance bot components. Not really because he wanted to sell the parts, but mostly to see if they were still in common circulation.

He knew he’d have to make many trips to Panhandle for the goods he required. Right now, his only priority was getting some real food. The VOX should have been a lot of fun on the road to Panhandle. Unfortunately, at this point, Jacob was so sick from malnutrition it was a fight to keep it on the road.

Jacob had meager expectations for Panhandle. From everything he had heard, non-union colonies suffered from food and supply shortages. They attracted crime, prostitution, and gambling. It was only a strong Union presence that kept the criminal element contained. It was a well-known fact that most non-union colonies failed.

As he pulled into Panhandle, he was pleasantly surprised. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Even in the light rain, there were crowds of people roaming the streets- farmers delivering fresh fruit by animal-drawn cart, customers haggling, women and children, men and bots carrying goods with deputies like Landon keeping the peace. The hagglers and merchants were exchanging round shiny back spheres. Jacob assumed it was the local form of currency. Every once in a while, there would be a red one or a blue one, but the majority were black.

A short bartering session with a street merchant filled him in on the details. The maintenance bot parts were indeed in demand. He ended up trading away the thermal blanket from the survival kit for two black orbs. He was sure it was worth more, but he had plenty back at the ship, and the appearance of being unskilled at commerce was necessary at this point. Further down the street was a proper general store. To get there, he had to pass three or four produce stands. The urge to buy the ripe, sweet fruit was almost overwhelming, and it took quite a bit of willpower to make it past them. He would be rewarded in the long run. The general store sold what he was looking for, a dry hard cracker sold in large hundred-count boxes. He purchased three boxes of crackers and two jugs of water.

“Smart man. How long?” said the woman behind the counter. She was just beyond childbearing age, weathered and experienced from what must have been a harsh life here in Panhandle. There was no point in trying to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“About thirty days, nothing but powdered rations.”

The woman behind the counter let out a long, slow whistle. “That’s a long time, son. Here.” She turned around and grabbed a small bottle from behind the counter. “Take this. It’s a vitamin supplement. It should shave two days off your recovery time.”

“But you see, I only have two...” and he held out the two black orbs.

“No, two for everything is fine. Take it. You’re worth more to me as a return customer than a dead one,” she said with a wink. “Just so you know, the blacks are one; gray is twelve, orange is 48, blue is 128. And don’t let anyone tell you anything different.”

“Thank you. I’d gotten conflicting information from the street vendors. I’m Jacob.”

“Not a problem. I’m Marsha. I own this store. Welcome to Panhandle. Come on back when you are ready to buy something more substantial.”

Jacob packed the extra water and crackers into the VOX. He broke open one jug of water and one package of crackers. Slowly he sipped the water. It was fresh and clean. Then he grabbed just two crackers from the box and started to eat. At any other time in his life, it would have been dry and tasteless. But today, after thirty days of powdered rations, it tasted wonderful. He would have to pace himself. It was tempting but dangerous to overeat at this point. He ate the second cracker, took one more sip of water to wash down the vitamin supplement, and packed the rest away. Overeating after starving for so long would make him very sick, and he could not afford that. The crackers were formulated to deliver the optimal balance of protein and carbohydrates to people in Jacob’s situation. After a few days, he would be able to partake in the local cuisine.

Jacob felt one hundred percent better. He was less dizzy and more focused than he had been in weeks.

The jeweler’s shop was by far the most modern building in Panhandle, next to the bank; it was exactly what he would have expected from a Union jeweler, just smaller. A short, balding man sat behind the counter.

“What can I do for you today, sir?” he asked.

“I was wondering if you could appraise a few items for me?”

“Okay, son, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jacob put the jewelry on the table, and the old man looked at it skeptically but did not touch it. His eyes then focused intently on Jacob.

“Why do you want t’ sell it?”

Jacob decided to continue his current cover story.

“Well, sir,” he said with a shrug, “honestly, I don’t.”

“Why are you wasting my time then?” asked the old man, quite perturbed. “You already know whether they’re real or not.”

“True.” Jacob had expected the old man to scrutinize the items more closely before playing games. He did his best to look downtrodden. “I don’t really want to these. They were my mother’s …” he paused for effect. “…But I have no choice. I’ve got to repair my ship and get home.”

“Ahh, well, then,” said the old man with a devious smile. “Let’s take a closer look.”

The two items were a pair of earrings and a necklace. Jacob had chosen both because they represented the very least valuable-looking jewelry in the Prime Minister’s wife’s collection. He would use these to determine who would give him a fair deal without letting anyone know just how much he had.

The jeweler made a show of carefully inspecting the necklace and earrings. Jacob knew the jeweler was just double-checking. He was sure that the jeweler had ascertained the value of the jewelry without even touching it.

Finally, the jeweler said, “The gems are worth saving, but the metal is worthless. I’ll give you twenty black for both of them.”

After his visit to the general store, Jacob had a better understanding of the value of a single black orb. To his estimation, it was about half a Union credit. Jacob had a feeling that the items would fetch ten times that back in Union space, but Jacob played it cool.

“I’m sorry the metal is so tarnished. My mother didn’t take very good care of them, and they are very old. I believe they belonged to my great-grandmother. Surely you have the skill to polish them. You could at least check the purity of the metal.”

“True, true, we can do that.” The jeweler took the items over to a machine and went through the motions of running the spectrum analyzer over them.

“Well, that’s surprising. It turns out these are of much higher quality than I had expected.”

Liar, Jacob thought, but he knew this was the jeweler’s way of raising his offer.

“I feel terrible about the previous offer. I’d like to offer you a thousand black for the lot. That is much more in line with the value of this metal.”

“I’m glad we could clear that up, but I’m not sure I want to sell the earrings.” Jacob was ready to make his move. “How about nine hundred for the necklace?”

“Oh no, one shouldn’t break up the set, fifteen hundred for everything.” It wasn’t a set, and Jacob knew it, but the jeweler wanted everything, and this encouraged him to reach higher.

“The jewels on the earrings are much larger than the necklace. I can’t see why it’s not worth three thousand for everything.”

“Three is just too much. There isn’t a market for that sort of thing in a small colony like Brierwood. Two thousand is more reasonable.”

“I’ll take twenty-five hundred.”

The jeweler eyed him carefully. “Ok, well, by law, all jewelry purchases of twenty-five hundred or more must be made with a bank draft. I can’t give you cash. They like it if you declare the property at the same time and pay tax on it immediately. If you give me an account number, we can start the transaction from here before we go over.” The jeweler had a knowing smile on his face. Jacob did not want to have to get an account at the bank. There would be too many complicated questions to answer.

“Twenty-four is fine with me. Why go through all that red tape?”

“Why indeed?” said the jeweler. “I’ll go collect the money. Tamra? Tamra, come out here and keep this nice man company while I get him his money.”

A young woman not more than eighteen wearing a jeweler’s apron stepped out from the back room. She had pale, freckled skin and long ginger hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked at him and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me?” said Jacob.

“Well, it’s just that it’s never a happy occasion when someone needs to sell jewelry. Especially so when the seller admits that they really don’t want to part with it,” she said. “I feel bad when it seems like Matthias takes advantage of a situation like this.” Jacob heard genuine remorse in her words.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jacob said. “We all do what we have to. In the end, it’s just a thing, and things can be replaced.” He smiled at her, even as he had trouble remembering where he had heard that. “So, what do you do here?”

“I have a steady hand and know a lot of math. Matthias finds me useful,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not much of an artist with the metal, but my repair work is good. This is just temporary anyway. I’m finishing my certification in computer robotics systems next month. I hope to work on the big earth lifters in the mines to the west.”

“You should keep clear of that death trap of a mine, you hear me!” the old man said as he entered the room.

“Matthias, we’ve been over this. I won’t be working in the mine. I’ll be working on the robots and communications systems that work the mine.” Tamra just gave Jacob a look that said this was an old argument.

“Can you believe this, sir? A beautiful young woman surrounded by expensive jewelry, and all she wants to do trudge around some dirty mine working on some infernal machine. Why if I were her, I’d be out on the town looking for a nice, rich man to marry.” The old man pushed a bag to Jacob.

Tamra just shook her head. “He doesn’t need to count it, does he, Matthias?”

He gave her a dirty look. “No. No, of course not. It’s all there, just like I said.”

Jacob took the bag. It was filled with blue orbs; a quick glance was enough to convince Jacob that the man had delivered what he had promised.

“Tamra, mind the store, would you? I’m going to go clean our new merchandise.” With that, the old man disappeared into the back room.

“You held your own, you know,” said Tamra.

“What do you mean?”

“Matthias is a tough negotiator. I’m sure he thought he could take advantage of you because you’re new in town.”

 “Well, he’ll still make a good profit. Really though, am I that obvious?” Jacob had thought he was doing rather well.

“Well, first, the clothes. Nobody in Panhandle is rich enough to afford stuff like that. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have quite a mud problem.”

 “I had heard a rumor to that effect. Anything else?”

“Well, you do have an accent.”

“Accent?” Jacob asked. “I don’t have an accent.”

Tamra stifled a smile. “Whatever you say. Maybe we should work on getting you some clothes that don’t scream ‘I have money to burn.’”

Jacob thought that sounded like a great idea.