Public Relations - George Orwell Qita D. had been in intra-system transit for a day, accelerating towards one of the inner planets at maximum thrust. The star system of Eta Cassiopeia was one of the less popular with independent traders, because the starports there rarely had any interesting goods on offer and the prices for imports were pretty low, due to the enormous amounts of supply the Federal Military were shipping in. On the other hand, Eta Cas was generally considered a very safe system. The Federation was quite rabid in keeping their main Navy base free of pirates and assassins, and police patrols were ferocious and plentiful. Therefore, it was not considered necessary to have any weapons mounted on the ship when travelling there, and precious cargo space was thus liberated. Consequently, Qita was most surprised when her Dreamware-induced half-sleep was brutally interrupted by the banshee shrieks of the attack-alarm. She jolted awake and tried to get an overview of the situation, which was not at all difficult. The scanner showed four medium-sized ships closing fast from astern, aggressive attack vectors unmistakable. Pirates. For several seconds, far too long by any standards, she was paralyzed, fear and shock completely engulfing her and dominating her consciousness, along with a desperate, unarticulated thought: ”This is not happening!” It was one of those moments during which you learn more about yourself than you ever wanted to know, and Qita learned that in situations such as these, she would freeze up for too long before getting a grip. When she finally did something, it was by all means a rational and correct action, but to no avail. She radioed for help on the emergency channel, then changed her heading and turned to face the attackers, knowing full well that her Lion Trader had nothing to repel them with. Their beam lasers lit up space around the Lion, making her feel as if inside a cage. Which was probably their intention. Forcing her to surrender without a fight would give them a new ship as well as the cargo. For a second, through the haze of fear, she was almost impressed at the audacity they were displaying by attacking a ship here. The nearest police patrol couldn’t be that far away. But why didn’t they answer? She tried the radio again. ”This is Lion Trader DF 545 out of Sol. I’m under attack and request immediate assistance.” She winced as she heard her own voice, trembling with fear, although she had tried to keep it calm. There was a crackle, but no reply. What in space was going on? The adrenaline now racing through her veins made her hands and voice shake severely as she pressed the ’transmit’ button again. ”Repeat, this is DF 545 under attack, would the police help me, please? Please! Where are you, you bastards!” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch at the end of her transmission, and a part of her brain knew she was panicking. Still no reply. Empty space. She had reached a level of fear beyond anything she’d ever experienced; the tangible fear of immediate death. And there really was not much she could do. The pirate ships were close, half a kilometer and closing slowly. Even if there were police patrols in this sector, they would now not have much time to come to her assistance. She started powering down the drive, when in a flash, it hit her: they could not possibly let her survive. They would kill her as soon as they entered the ship. She was of no use to them, merely a witness to a crime the Federation would prosecute the perpetrators very eagerly for. They simply could not let her live. Strangely, that realization calmed her down quite a bit. Death was now something she was facing and could not escape. But better to die fighting. She would not surrender as they wished. The already hot drive powered up again immediately, and the lights on the control panel winked alive, as did the head-up display. She aimed the elegant ship at the nearest attacker, disengaged the safety power limiter on the Lion’s massive fusion drive and just slammed the controls into full thrust. The acceleration compensation system in the cockpit was not calibrated for such uncontrolled release of force and she felt herself being pushed back in the seat at what must have been well over 3 Gs. It took the attackers by surprise, and the pilot of the nearest fighter was not quick enough on his controls to avoid the big trader suddenly lunging madly toward him. His Adder hit the upper turret on the Lion hard, ripped it off and tumbled wildly off into the blackness, spraying shrapnel and grey smoke. The remaining three pirates, now realizing that they would not get this ship intact after all, opened fire in earnest and had their lasers start ripping its hull apart. Qita kept accelerating and made preparations for that most desperate of actions; to let the main hyperdrive go into an unstoppable feedback loop and then blow up, taking the pirates with it. The panic had left her now, replaced by a cold determination not to let her tormentors gain anything by their cruel actions. She kept her finger on the button that would set off the uncontrolled fusion reaction. It would be time to press it very soon. The remaining pirates, oblivious to their impending demise, kept pummeling her ship with concentrated energy. Hull integrity was at sixty percent and falling. At fifty, she would close her eyes and press the button. It never came to that. Suddenly, the laser fire stopped and her scanner and rear camera showed only large plumes of smoke where the pirate ships had been. Dumbstruck, she turned the ship around. Sure enough, the pirates were gone, leaving only debris and a few containers of hydrogen fuel and gemstones. Obviously, this was not their first raid. But, in a bizarre turn of events, it had been their last. What in space almighty had happened to them? One second they were merrily blasting away at her, the next there was hardly any trace of their ships. And she was sure she had only collided with one of the pirates. Before she could finish the thought, she spotted the reason. A Viper MkII, a typical police craft, was closing on her from sunside. Strangely, it didn’t appear on her scanner, not as much as a blip. Her scanning equipment must have taken quite a beating, although it did seem to be displaying other objects without trouble. Well, that could be repaired. She was just happy to be alive. She really ought to thank them. ”Hey, guys, thanks for that. What took you so long?” Silence. Then a man’s voice. ”Errm... are you okay, Lion Trader? You don’t look so good.” That was not the booming, cocky reply she had expected. This one seemed almost insecure. ”Hang on, I’ll check.” She ran the diagnostics and it found a lot to be desired. It was worse than she had realized. ”Oops, seems all my propulsion systems are down. And the main power supply.” Again there was a long silence before the reply came. ”I see. Sounds pretty bad. Can you repair it?” ”What, repair the drive on a Lion all by myself? I think not.” Pause. ”I’ll dock and take a look.” ”Okay, but be careful. The turret’s gone.” This time, he didn’t answer at all, just quickly maneuvered the Viper closer and carefully sat it down on the Lion’s hull. There was barely a sound as the two ships connected, which impressed her a little. The pilot seemed to know what he was doing. She patted down the front of her shipsuit and tried to get her hair in a presentable state, faintly wishing she had somehow been better prepared for a visitor. When she was in transit, alone on her ship, she didn’t exactly go to great pains to look her best. Oh well, no time to put on makeup and a cocktail dress now. She made her way to the docking-hatch, and a minute later, as it swung open, she laid eyes on her rescuer for the first time. The young man who climbed through the narrow hatch from the docking airlock didn’t look like a police pilot. And not Federal Military, that too was for certain, although he did wear a uniform.It was of a design unknown to her, a metallic dark blue two-piece suit, strategically padded with some exotic material, but without insigna. He wore long gloves, too, and on his hip hung a big, black, scary looking sidearm. His head was bare, and although cropped militarily short, she could tell that his dark hair was already thinning. He stood on her deck and peered apprehensively at her. Curiously, despite his outlandish appearance, there was nothing threatening about his demeanor, and she didn’t feel all that unsure about letting him aboard her ship. ”Hello,” he said at last. ”Hello. Who are you? You’re not police, are you?” The stranger looked up and down himself, as if only now noticing that she was indeed right. ”No, not exactly. You can call me Cam for now. What is your name, may I ask?” His voice was calm and friendly. ”Qita D. Do you always bring guns aboard a shipwreck?” ”I don’t know for sure, Qita. Probably. I’m pretty new at this.” ”Pretty new at what?” He didn’t answer, instead turned to study the inside of the Lion. ”You really took some damage, didn’t you? Looks much worse from the outside. Hope it’s salvageable. Shall we take a look?” ”Yeah, sure. Cockpit’s this way.” She led him through the habitable part of the Lion, past walkways and hatches to living quarters and storage compartments. He cleared his voice. ”It’s unusual to see a ship this size run by only one person.” ”How do you know it’s just me?” she said, trying to sound suspicious. ”My sensors showed only one being on board. Alive, anyway.” ”Then your sensors are better than mine. Your ship didn’t even show up on the scanner.” ”Really? How strange. Do you do a lot of trading at Eta Cassiopeia?” ”Well, yes, I prefer to trade in safe systems. Although apparently, Eta Cas isn’t quite as safe as I thought. How did you dispose of those pirates, anyway? I didn’t see what happened, suddenly they were just gone.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment. ”I just got lucky, I suppose. Surprised them. Blew them to bits when they weren’t looking. So this is the cockpit, is it?” he asked unnecessarily and looked around as if admiring great works of art in a museum. ”Yes. Feel free to see the sights.” ”Mmm, yes, I’ll just run a check on your systems, see if you can make it to Trojan on your own.” He sat down in the copilot’s seat and started operating the controls in a manner which suggested considerable familiarity with space technology. Qita felt slightly superfluous in her own ship. ”What’s that noise I hear? That rumbling?” She shrugged. ”Well, I had to put the drive into panic mode. I suppose that noise is its way of protesting.” ”And what do you mean by ’panic mode’?” ”I threw it into full burst. Why?” she asked, starting to worry a bit. He was concentrating intensely on his work and it took him a couple of seconds to answer. ”Because as far as I can tell, that fusion chain reaction is still building, and I can’t seem to stop it. The power limiter should have kicked in long before this.” ”Yeah, but I had to take it off line to get emergency power from the drive.” He abruptly ceased working on the controls, rose, grabbed her by the wrist and started walking briskly back to the docking area, dragging her with him. ”Hey, what -” ”We have to leave right now, Qita. The drive has gone beyond critical levels. With the safeties down it can’t be stopped and it’s going to blow any second. Come on!” With her mind seriously startled, it took Qita a second to get something resembling order into her thoughts, and when she did, she nearly panicked again. ”Hey, wait, I’ve got to bring my stuff!” ”There’s no time. We have to get aboard my ship and get away from the area. Believe me, we’ll be lucky to just live through this. Come on, run!” His intensity and earnestness made her comply, and she let him drag her with him. As they ran down the narrow corridor, the rumbling got stronger, and there was an ominous hum, seemingly radiating from the hull itself, steadily rising in pitch. The large freighter started shaking, very lightly at first, then more and more until they would be having trouble standing up, if they weren’t in motion and running fast. Or at least as fast as the situation allowed, which wasn’t very. A pressing thought hit her. She managed to yank her hand out of his grip and started making her way back toward the cramped quarters where she kept her belongings. She heard him running after her, but she didn’t look back to check. She nearly reached the hatch to her cabin before he caught up with her and got her wrist in a very safe grip. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong and again dragged her with him, now clutching both her wrists in his one hand. ”No, I have to get my money! My documents and ID! I need those! My insurance!” ”We’ll take care of that later, Qita. Right now we should be more concerned about survival.” She halfheartedly tried to escape his grip, but she knew he was right, and she also felt a growing urge to leave. The humming noise was now painfully loud and had reached a frighteningly high, frantic pitch. And the deck was shaking worse than ever. The lights along the corridor blinked once, then went out, leaving the ship in complete darkness, forcing them to stop. Without letting go of her hand, the stranger did something to his suit that ignited some sort of light source on its front. It bathed the entire corridor in a sharp, bluish light and enabled them to continue toward the docking hatch. The stranger, with Qita in tow, stopped short as he reached it and without a word shoved her in. He followed just behind her, urgently pushing her through the open docking hatch and into his Viper. When they were both inside the noticeably more cramped fighter he slapped a button to close the hatch, then elbowed his way past her toward the controls in the cockpit. She hardly had time to register what a strange-looking cockpit it was, before Cam again urgently dragged her along. ”Sit down here, would you?” he said and indicated the copilot’s seat as he himself sat in the pilot’s seat on the left. As she moved to comply he sat the little spaceship in motion, directly away from her Lion Trader. They accelerated very quickly, she could tell, although the compensators were almost completely masking the g-forces. On an impressively big display screen mounted centrally on the control panel the image of the big trader was rapidly shrinking. ”Hang on tight,” Cam said, and at the same moment, the screen went a brilliant white as the main drive of the Lion exploded and momentarily turned the surrounding space into a new little sun. ”We’re too close. Hold on.” Before she’d understood what he was saying, the Viper shook violently and there was a loud, sharp bang as something hit the hull with great force. She yelped involuntarily and felt her fingers cling frantically to the smooth armrest of the seat. The commotion only lasted for a split second, then all was again quiet and calm. On the screen, her beloved Lion was gone, replaced by a distant, orange glow. She looked over at Cam who was already scanning a damage report. ”Any damage?” ”Yes. We were hit by a piece of debris. Knocked a hole in the hull, it seems. Came dangerously close to the drive.” ”But we’re basically okay?” He still peered intently at the reports he was getting. ”For now. We shouldn’t go to far before having it repaired, though.” ”J. F. Kennedy is only a couple of days away, think we’ll make it that far?” He was quiet for a second or two. ”No,” he said. ”We’ll not be going to Kennedy. We’ll have to go somewhere else entirely.” ”There’s no station that’s closer,” Qita said, puzzled. “It doesn’t seem we have much choice.” He kept working the instruments, still not looking up to meet her gaze. ”I know a place.” ”I don’t find that very reassuring, to be honest. The closest base is Kennedy, and I really think we should go there.” ”We can’t do that,” he said flatly. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, he suddenly lifted his gaze and looked straight into her eyes, a serious and very earnest look on his face. ”I can’t show up on a Federal base in this ship. I just can’t. Don’t worry, we’ll be perfectly safe. We’ll have to make a jump, that’s all.” ”What, did you steal the ship?” ”No. There are other reasons. I’ll tell you later.” She resigned with a sigh. ”Okay. It’s not like I have any pressing appointments or anything.” She looked at the display screen, where her beloved Lion was gone, replaced by a distant, orange glow. ”Not anymore.” The cockpit was quiet for a minute as Cam worked at something and Qita started to contemplate the turn her life had suddenly taken. ”My entire life was in that ship, you know. All my money, my papers, my memories. Everything.” ”Not everything, Qita,” he said. ”Not the most important thing, namely yourself.” She sighed heavily. ”That’s true, I suppose. Thanks for rescuing me. Both times. No, really. Not sure if I actually wanted you to, but there you go.” He kept working, but she sensed more than saw him frowning. ”I don’t for a second believe that you would have preferred to die in that explosion.” She didn’t reply at once, just stared out into space for a few seconds. ”No, I guess not. But now I have nothing. Except for this old shipsuit. Nothing.” ”Mmm. Keep in mind that it could have been worse. And I, for one, am really glad you made it. Right, we’re ready to make the jump. Hang on tight.” ”Where are we going? Anlave?” Instead of answering, he leaned back and gently pushed the button that activated the hyperdrive, sending the little fighter over the edge to witch-space, deep into the basic fabric of the space-time continuum where it could traverse enormous distances in a matter of seconds. Qita was accustomed to travelling through the white, misty swirls of witch-space, but this was a very, very different experience indeed. Instead of swirling mist it looked as if the ship was awash in an intense bluish-white light, making it almost painful to look out the main viewscreen. She was unprepared and gasped at the shock of it; then, abruptly, they were back in normal space with the pinpricks of distant stars glowing innocently around them. A low alarm signal was beeping. ”Crap,” Cam said. ”Mis-jump.” Qita turned to stare at him. ”You are joking, of course,” she said in disbelief. No-one ever had mis-jumps anymore, provided they serviced their drives at least once a year. And everyone did that. ”No jokes. That explosion must have done more damage than I thought. Doesn’t look good... yup. Drive’s offline.” ”Which means we’re stuck?” ”Looks like it. Let’s find out where we are.” The entire viewscreen was suddenly displaying an enormous and intricate galactic map, which was quickly zoomed in to focus on a coordinate square far from The Core. Much too far for Qita’s liking. A little green cross was denoting the position of the Viper, in the middle of space far from any star system. Qita leaned forward slightly to get a closer view, not quite believing her own eyes. ”Is this where we are now? Good skies, how far did we just jump? Looks like at least eighteen coordinate points.” ”Yes, approximately eighteen.” ”That’s over a hundred light-years. In one jump. What kind of drive do you have, anyway?” Cam snorted. ”I have no drive now, it seems. And we can’t possibly reach any star by going by sub-photonic speeds. Haven’t got enough water to keep us alive. Would take years.” ”So what do we do?” ”The only thing we can do. Signal for help.” ”Yeah, the old ’my ship has broken down’ routine? That never works, you know. Not even in a populated system.” Cam sat silently looking out into space, and Qita gave in to the growing frustration she was experiencing. ”All right, I am now officially regretting letting you save me from the pirates and the exploding ship. At least those would have been quick and painless deaths.” ”Don’t worry, Qita, we’re not going to die.” ”Your confidence is heart-warming. Let’s sum up the situation, shall we? We are, by way of a mis-jump, stranded in deep space at least four light-years from any star, and who knows how far from a system that’s actually populated. The drive is gone and there’s no-one around to help us. A distress call is highly unlikely to reach anyone, and would probably be ignored anyway. Should we by now agree that death is a very likely outcome?” ”Like I said, we’re not going to die. Tell me something,” Cam said quickly just as Qita was going to launch into another, and considerably more agitated, string of logical arguments. ”What do you see outside?” She perused his face, trying to see what he was getting at, then reluctantly turned her head to look out the viewport. It was space, black as usual, several million pinpricks of out-of-reach stars. ”Anything in particular I should be looking for?” ”Look at the scanner.” She did, for the first time really noticing the very exotic-looking suite of equipment the Viper’s cockpit was equipped with. In fact, the whole interior looked and felt quite bizarre, almost organic in texture. The surfaces were grey, but the color was not uniform; there were many shades, asymmetrically arranged as if it was a sort of skin, as if the ship was a living entity. The scanner gave a holographic miniature representation of nearby space, with any features like ships and debris clearly marked out. She looked up at Cam again, raising her eyebrows just a little. ”Yes?” ”What do you see?” She looked again and this time she saw it. Those classes in Visual Observation at the Trading Academy hadn’t been a complete waste of time. ”Ah. We’re in the middle of a tight asteroid cluster. A flat cluster. Looks symmetrical. Unusual to see asteroids like that this far from a star. I make it... seventeen asteroids, all about three hundred meters in diameter. But the shape of that cluster...” Inexplicably, Qita felt a strange chill running up her spine and noticed the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. ”There’s something really strange about it.” ”That’s what I thought. What is it?” ”You’d expect it to be somewhat irregular in shape, not flat. In fact... all the asteroids are flattened and symmetrical too, and they seem to be the exact same size.” ”What shape would you say they are?” ”Roughly octagonal.” ”No. They’re precisely octagonal. Here’s another cluster.” Cam zoomed the scanner out a few kilometres. ”And here.” He pointed, then zoomed out to a thousand kilometers radius. ”In all, I count three thousand one hundred and seven octagonal clusters. Which means nearly fifty-three thousand identical, octagonal asteroids. If we zoom all the way out you’ll see that they all form a supercluster.” Slowly, Qita let her breath out as fifty-three thousand tiny, red squares formed a shape on the scanner display. ”Which is also exactly octagonal.” She turned away from the scanner and looked up at Cam. ”I think we may be in trouble.” He grinned back at her, which surprised her a bit. ”When were we not?” Qita had never experienced silence like this. With the main drive dead, there was none of that familiar distant hum that had always accompanied her when travelling in space. The only sounds that could be heard was the two occupants breathing. Nothing else. The absence of background noise was almost deafening, and it made the danger seem closer and the whole situation all the more ominous. Looking out the viewport, she watched the large, dark, octagonal shapes drift calmly and silently past the comparatively tiny Viper, some close enough to fill the entire field of view, making her feel confined and so very, very small and defenseless. Which, for all practical purposes, she was. Cam was frantically working on something on his station. Qita cleared her voice. ”Erm, just so we’re both on the same page...” ”Yes?” he said absentmindedly, not taking his eyes from his work. ”We do think that those are Thargoid ships, right?” ”Looks like it.” ”The Thargoids, as in The Alien Menace, the Gravest Threat to the Survival of Mankind? The Space Invaders? The Enemy? With a capital E?” ”The same.” ”I seem to recall from school that we kicked their entire race out of human space centuries ago.” ”Me too.” ”Yet here they are.” ”Probably.” She found herself slightly irritated with the brevity and lack of emotions of his responses and raised her voice a bit. ”Strange, huh?” He glanced over at her, then continued fiddling with the instruments. ”Not really, I guess. From what I know about them, they were apparently always very determined, and I suppose it’s only to be expected that they would sooner or later come back for another go.” ”You think that’s what happening? It’s an invasion fleet?” ”It does seem a possible conclusion. We are, as you just pointed out, in a section of space that we humans like to consider our property. So if those are indeed Thargoid ships, the invasion is already in progress.” Qita pondered this for a second. ”But why haven’t they attacked us? They must know that we’re here and that they’ve been discovered.” ”Hard to say. Their sensors may not be quite up to the task. We haven’t emitted or reflected much else than visible light since we emerged from witch-space, and the bugs never quite got a grip on that part of the spectrum.” Qita snorted. ”Okay, now I know you’re wrong. When a ship comes out of hyperspace, mis-jump or not, it always leaves an enormous gassy cloud in its wake, and that cloud emits all kinds of radiation. Their sensors can’t be so terrible that they don’t detect at least that.” She eagerly leaned forward and zoomed in on the scanner to show him the hyperspace cloud and thus thoroughly drive home her point, but after thirty seconds of searching with both the scanner and the viewing system she came up empty. ”What in space is going on? Why is there no hyperspace cloud where we emerged?” ”Special drive. Leaves no trace.” Cam innocently toiled away on his station, carefully avoiding her incredulous gaze. Frustration welled up in her, and she slapped her palm sharply down on a conveniently located surface, producing more of a splat than the sharp bang she had been hoping for. ”Right, that’s it. Enough with the mystery man routine, Cam, or whatever your name is. What is going on here? Who are you? What kind of ship is this that doesn’t show up on scanners and looks all funny inside and leaves no cloud? Huh? And jumps a hundred light-years in one go?” She looked at him as angrily as she could, but he didn’t look back. ”I’m not allowed to tell you,” he said quietly. ”Ooh, an intellectual challenge!” Qita exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. ”Precisely what I need the most now that I’ve lost everything I own just half an hour ago and we’re sitting in the middle of a Thargoid invasion fleet, light-years from any system, in a ship with no drive. Yippiee!” Cam sighed heavily beside her. ”I really can’t tell you. Now look at the scanner.” She did as she was told, his insistence and sudden change of subject taking some of the wind out of her sails. ”That one is moving differently. It has broken out of its pattern and changed course.” ”So it has.” ”And it’s coming this way.” On the big scanner display the course of the Thargoid warship was plotted, and in its extension a probability cone for its continued movement was drawn. The little Viper was right in the middle of it. ”That answers your previous question, I guess. We’ve been discovered. You’ve got the rear guns.” As Qita looked up from the scanner, the most incredible thing happened with the instrument panel, which had so far looked featureless and blank on her side. A set of laser controls with the proper pistol grips, power adjuster, aim control and trigger were quickly growing out of it until it was in exactly the right position for her to use. Then a large screen descended from the above bulkhead, softly curling itself around, about twenty centimeters from her face, until her entire field of vision was filled with a forward view. The whole silent display of unfamiliar technology made her skin crawl and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she involuntarily pressed her body towards the backrest of the seat and turned her head away to get some distance to the strange instruments. ”It’s very simple,” Cam said. ”Just focus your eyes on where you want to fire, then pull the trigger. It’ll aim automatically. To rotate the view, use the controls. But don’t fire yet.” Qita gingerly gripped the strange controls, which were dry and soft, but with a hard core which made them easy and very comfortable to use. She made a few moves to familiarize herself with their movements. ”Okay, I’ve got it. Uhmm... Are we really going to fight? We’re ridiculously outnumbered.” ”Well, I don’t think we’d want to be captured, so we’ll fight if we have to. Anyway, we just have to keep them at bay for a few minutes.” Part of her knew that it didn’t matter how long they could keep the fight up, as they were doomed anyway, but she tried not to think too hard about that. ”Qita, we’ll fire only on those ships that fire on us, okay?” ”Whatever you say.” ”Get ready.” The Thargoid ship was closing in on the little fighter, and as its shape filled more and more of her viewscreen, Qita instinctively stiffened in her seat, all her muscles tense in anticipation of battle, her finger tightening around the trigger. A cold sweat was forming on her forehead. She switched the image to a split-screen forward/rearward view, so that she was ready to fire the rear guns and at the same time keeping an eye on what was happening at the other end. If those Thargoids started shooting, there was no telling how long the shields would stay up and protect the hull from the beams. On the other hand, this weird ship might have better shields than those that were fitted as standard by the shipyards. When the Thargon opened fire, it didn’t seem like a surprise, merely a confirmation of the battle situation that already existed. A cool, pale blue ray emanated from the underside of the enemy ship, striking the shield directly in front of the Viper’s cockpit viewport. There was no noise, but around the point of impact the affected portion of the shield was slowly changing color, going from white to darker as the energy was absorbed. Immediately, the Viper jumped into motion, as Cam gunned the interplanetary drive to dodge the attacker’s beam. At the same time, he fired the forward guns, and four parallel, searing white beams connected at the shields of the enormous adversary. It didn’t flinch, but continued on its interception course, only slightly modifying its heading to compensate for the Vipers motion. ”I’ll turn us around now, get ready on those guns!” Cam shouted, quite unnecessarily, for Qita was as ready as she’d ever be. The little fighter turned around and headed away from the attacking vessel, which then came into range of the rear guns. Qita stared at what she judged to be the middle of target, then squeezed the trigger and sent concentrated energy in the shape of two brilliantly white beams right at the dark, alien hull. The target didn’t veer, and she just kept the trigger pressed until the enemy’s blue beam struck seemingly right at the middle of her field of vision, causing her to let go of the grip and instinctively throw her hand up in front of her face in a futile gesture. All the while, Cam had the Viper change direction and roll rapidly, making erratic movements to make it harder for the enemy to get in a shot. Through the mental haze of the battle, Qita noticed that he kept them going for the shortest way out of the Thargoid fleet they were in the middle of. In spite of their efforts, the Thargoids were still able to get in several hits, and the status gauges on Qita’s screen showed that the shields were down to 20 % efficiency. They also didn’t seem to be outrunning the alien ship, as the distance increased only marginally. It was not going to work. Suddenly, Cam called to her. ”Qita, do you see that ship straight ahead?” She adjusted her display to have it scan partially forward. A big shape appeared where there had previously been nothing but empty space. ”Yes, I - what in space almighty is that? Looks like an Imperial Explorer!” ”That’s our rescue. We’ll be there in two minutes. Can you keep the bugs at bay?” She looked at the shield gauge and made a quick assessment. ”No,” she said. She was proved correct when seconds later, in a rain of electric blue sparks, the shields gave in to the massive onslaught and vanished. The intense energy beam that was the enemy’s weapon began to tear into the armour of the Viper, burning away layer upon layer of shielding. Finally, it burned all the way through and punctured the hull. There was an explosion, there was smoke and fire, there were wailing alarms. And the little fighter, although still accelerating, was no longer racing toward the gigantic Explorer. ”Cam, we’re veering off course! You’ve got to correct it!” There was no reply, and Qita pushed aside the display screen to take a look. Cam was hunched over the burned-out controls, clearly unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his head. In a strangely unemotional flash, Qita realized that it was up to her to get them to safety. She had never flown a Viper before, and as a law-abiding civilian, never even been inside one. But she had flown many other types of ship, and she quickly located the controls on her side of the cockpit. She adjusted the course, and only then had a chance to worry about the attacking ship. On the rearward display, she saw the Thargoid firing its weapon like before, but it was no longer aimed at them. It was aimed at the Imperial Explorer, which was returning fire from at least six quadruple beam cannons. Qita adjusted her course slightly to avoid coming into the line of fire. The shape of the massive Imperial warship rapidly grew in size as the Viper hurtled closer, and suddenly Qita felt a terrible jolt as the fighter’s velocity was rapidly killed by a tractor beam, which then proceeded to pull them into the warship’s hangar. The firefight was still taking place, but to her astonishment, Qita noticed that it was the Thargoid ship that was now retreating, large plumes of black smoke pouring out of its dark, octagonal hull. The scene left a powerful image of her retina as the Viper was pulled into the brightly lit hangar bay, where a rescue team was waiting. With a jarring shudder and a loud clang the fighter was set down on the hangar deck. Immediately afterwards, there appeared the searing white edges of a large rectangle on the side of the cockpit where the crew of the Explorer were burning a large hole in the bulkhead. It suddenly occurred to Qita that she was aboard an Imperial ship, and since she was a citizen of the Federation, they would probably consider her an intruder and an enemy. Didn’t she remember Cam having a gun in his belt? She leaned over to try to get a hold of it, but before she found it, the people outside had burned all the way through and she felt a pair of strong hands grab her by the shoulders and more lift than pull her out of the Viper’s cockpit to the deck outside. She found herself surrounded by a whole team of people wearing the same uniform as the one Cam had, like his also lacking any insignia. It relieved her to see that they did not look like Imperials. They were all busy and didn’t seem to take much notice of her until a tall man approached her. ”Welcome aboard the ’Profit’. I’m Pumgis, Chief Operations Officer of the New Titan Trading Corporation. May I ask who you are?” ”I’m Qita D. Independent trader from Sol.” ”I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss T.” A team of medics were carrying Cam out of the wreckage on a stretcher, advanced-looking medical equipment adorning the body of the unconscious young man. The whole procession quickly marched out of the docking area towards a set of sliding doors. ”They’re taking him to sickbay,” Pumgis said. One of the medics gave her a friendly smile in passing. ”We’ll get him back on his feet in no time, don’t you worry.” As she started following the stretcher, Pumgis lightly put his hand on her arm. ”We’d better let them work. Let’s get you some dinner, shall we?” Qita walked with the older man through the ship into the messroom, where he led her to a table by the bulkhead, right by a viewport through which the stars outside could be seen. They sat down. ”What would you like?” Pumgis asked in a friendly tone. ”Umm, well, what do you have?” she said, not quite able to contain a nervous laugh. She found the situation rather absurd; from losing a terrible space battle, being mere inches from a fiery death, straight to a nice, relaxed dinner. Her mind was having some trouble keeping up with events. ”I think we have quite a lot, just name something you’d like.” ”I’m not really that hungry. Okay, let’s say a synth salad.” Pumgis smiled. ”Not much of a challenge, eh? Let’s try this.” He made some operations on a small panel set in the tabletop. ”I think you’ll like it.” ”I’m sure I will.” She leaned back and took in the surroundings. For a trading ship, the messroom was quite outstanding. On all other ships she had been on, emphasis was put on maximizing cargo space and certainly not on the crew’s dining facilities or other amenities. But here, there were no sterile and dented deck-to-bulkhead aluminium panels, no long and dirty tables with uncomfortable benches, no randomly discarded trays of synthetic meals and no cold, white floodlight overhead. Instead, there was a large room with small tables scattered around, four to eight seemingly comfortable chairs at each and a dim, subdued lighting that seemed to radiate from nowhere. A low murmur filled the room as several conversations were taking place between off-watch crewmembers having their meals. Large, green potted plants were placed around on the floor, seemingly at random, and a small fountain sprayed water into a little pool, making a relaxing clucking sound. It was in fact really cozy, not least because of the live candles placed on each table, which was very unusual; open flame in space was generally considered a serious security hazard. She looked back at Pumgis. ”So you’re a trading company?”. ”Yes, didn’t Cam tell you?” ”Nope. He was pretty secretive.” ”Ah, well, we don’t always like people knowing what we’re up to. It’s a competitive business. While we wait, why don’t you tell me what happened?” She told him about the events of the previous hours, and as she spoke, she felt the tension slowly vanish and the weight of the loss of her ship and, in effect, most of her life, settle in her mind as a big, black hole. She was feeling very tired as she neared the end of the story. ”And then you came out of nowhere and saved us.” Pumgis leaned back in his chair. ”Hmm. A strange tale. We must be more on our guard for pirates in supposedly safe systems.” A robot waiter approached the table and unloaded a plate of salad and two glasses with some kind of liquid. Pumgis had apparently settled for a just a drink. She took the utensils and inspected the salad. ”This doesn’t resemble a synth salad. It actually looks edible. What is it?” ”Try it and see.” She gingerly put some green stuff on her fork, tasted it and presently felt her eyes widen in astonishment. ”This is a real salad! With fresh vegetables!” Pumgis grinned. ”Do you like it?” ”Yeah, I’ve only ever had real vegetables once, many years ago. It’s extremely expensive, even in Sol. You know I can’t pay for this, don’t you?” ”Don’t worry, it’s on the house. Enjoy.” Even though she wasn’t that hungry, the taste and sense of occasion she got from eating a dish of fresh vegetables made her really savor the delicious meal. She tried to keep the conversation going between mouthfuls. ”Do you trade in vegetables?” ”Oh yes, we do. We have suppliers for many things.” ”I must say I’m surprised at the standard of this ship. I take it it’s been heavily modified since it was in Imperial service?” ”Of course. But this ship is not representative. All our other ships are much more, shall we say, functional and mundane. This is our main vessel, our corporate headquarters, so to speak. By not being planet-based we don’t have to pay any taxes. And it makes for a very flexible organization.” They sat in silence for a while as Qita finished her dinner. ”Tell me,” she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, vaguely considering asking for another helping, ”how did you get hold of a ship like that Viper? It has some amazing equipment.” ”Ah, well, you see, we have considerable resources at our disposal. We can buy the very best equipment, stuff that isn’t generally available. And that Viper is a prototype, fitted with all the equipment we have. You wouldn’t believe how much it cost.” ”So was Cam on a test drive?” ”Yes, a Viper isn’t really much good for the kind of trading we do. Not enough capacity.” ”So what kind of trading do you do? Except vegetables?” ”Well, we deal in many types of items, mostly high-price goods.” ”Like luxury goods from Van Maanen to Sol? That’s supposed to be a good route.” ”Yes, and other goods and routes.” ”Your indigenous revenue must be quite large, huh?” ”In a manner of speaking.” ”I’ve heard people talk about some big trading company making heaps of cash carrying gemstones from Achenar to Sirius. Is that you?” ”Oh, I’m sure we’ve got something going there as well. It’s a big organization. Now, won’t you try your drink?” She took a sip. ”Wow. Fresh orange juice. I’m impressed.” She drank the rest of the sweet-sour fluid in one draw. ”Glad to hear it. Anything else you’d like?” She hid a yawn behind her hand; all the excitement she’d had that day was taking its toll. ”No, thanks. When can I see Cam?” ”I’d guess in ten or twelve hour’s time. I gather he wasn’t all that badly hurt. We have assigned you a bunk, would you like to see it?” ”Sure.” They rose and left the messroom. Pumgis took her to what had to be the officers’ section, opened a door in a corridor and showed her in. ”This is your bunk. You’ll find the entertainment system in the bulkhead here.” It wasn’t really a ’bunk’, Qita thought, more like an Admiral’s quarters; roomy, lavishly furnished and beautifully decorated. On the bed lay a set of underwear and a green, nondescript shipsuit of a modern and elegant cut. A door led to the correspondingly roomy bathroom. All in all, it was a luxurious stateroom that had no business being on any kind of ship beside a luxury cruise-liner. Just the sight of that bed made her yawn again. Behind her, Pumgis cleared his voice, and she turned around. ”Ehm, I hope you don’t mind me saying that we’d prefer it if you’d remain here until we can escort you to sickbay. This is our headquarters, after all, and you’re a competing trader. As you can imagine, there are things on board here that we’d rather you didn’t see. I mean no offense.” ”Oh, none taken. Ten hours, you say? Should be just fine. I’ll be asleep in ten seconds.” He handed her a small device. ”You can always get a hold of me with this commchip. Please don’t hesitate to call if it’s anything at all.” ”I’ll be just fine here. Thanks, see you later.” ”All right, Miss T. Sleep tight.” She did. It was a paradise, there was no question about it. The sky was intensely blue, the sand as white as the ice on Europa and the sea an inviting turqouise. A sun that could have been Sol, but wasn’t, sent its warmth down on their bodies. A gentle breeze rustled the palms and made the temperature just perfect for wandering slowly along the beach, close together and scantily clad. Which was precisely what Qita and Cam were doing. ”So the company has this entire planet just as a vacation resort for their employees?” ”Yep.” ”And for convalescing, obviously.” ”Obviously.” She looked teasingly up at him. ”You know, Cam, for such an intrepid trading scout you don’t have much of a way with words.” He smiled back shyly. ”I guess not. I just can’t believe I’m here.” ”Yeah, that really is something.” They wandered along the dunes slowly, making deep imprints with their bare feet. ”Cam?” ”Yes, Qita?” ”I know what you are.” He looked away. ”I see.” They walked a few more paces before he spoke again. ”When did you know?” ”When they carried you out of that wreckage. Seeing that medical equipment made a light go off in my head. Everything fit. And everything that’s happened later just drove home the point.” ”Does it scare you?” ”No. But tell me: Is Cam your real name?” ”My full name is Cam Ranie, so yes.” ”And what is your rank?” ”Major.” ”You’re not allowed to talk about this, of course.” ”Not really.” He looked at her, a faint smile playing around his lips. ”But you’ve figured it out on your own, so I think now it’s only fair that I answer your questions.” ”Were they never disbanded?” ”No, never. It’s been growing steadily for a long time.” ”Will you tell me what really happened?” ”Yes.” They walked a few meters inland and sat down in the warm sand. ”INRA beat the Thargoids in the war, as you know. But contrary to popular belief, the organization was never dissolved. It was suspected that the aliens, although having suffered a serious defeat, would not give up. And the next time they struck, mankind would probably not have time to establish a new force. You have no idea what a close run it was at the end of that war. It was pure luck that we won.” He took a fistful of sand and let it run slowly through his fingers. ”After the war, the Imperials and the Feds were not at all keen on having INRA as a new power factor in the galaxy, but because of the animosity between them, they never cooperated on forcing a disbandment. In fact, they both tried to bribe INRA into joining their sides, respectively. INRA took the money, but did nothing. The snowball was rolling. Do you know what snow is?” ”Sure. I’m from Earth.” ”Right. Me too. Anyway, now the two sides, who had set up INRA in the first place, remember, became terrified that this very potent military power should join the other. It would be a disaster for the Imps if INRA joined the Federation, and vice versa. So the payments kept coming, and they escalated very rapidly, until a substantial percentage of the Combined Gross Planetary Products of both regimes were channeled directly into the INRA coffers, strengthening us further. That has been the case for many, many years.” ”But it has been so silent.” ”Mmm. Hardly anyone knows that we still exist. There’s only a few top government officials on each side who knows. Incidentally, now both the Alliance and the Independent worlds have joined in the funding.” He sent her a roguish smile. ”You wouldn’t believe how adept INRA has become when it comes to dividing and conquering.” ”That doesn’t sound all that honest.” ”I suppose not. But there’s a crucial point here. INRA never, in fact, used any of its superior resources on gaining political power or dominating the galaxy, although we have the capability to overrun all the existing regimes in less than half an hour.” ”How noble of them.” ”Perhaps. But you do understand this? We don’t know when the aliens will strike again, and we have to be ready when they do. INRA has a job to do. A task. A mission. The most important mission imaginable. All INRA operatives are overwhelmed by this sense of purpose and urgency. I myself am. And we can’t allow a bunch of corrupt politicians, through their efforts to be reelected or gain personal favor with the Emperor, to doom our entire species to annihilation. INRA is the only hope for the survival of mankind. And as you saw yourself, we’re about to see some action very soon.” Qita drew little figures in the sand as she tried to digest what he had said. It did sound sensible enough. He seemed so calm and sincere. And she had seen that enormous Thargoid fleet with her own eyes. ”How long till the war starts?” ”A few months. Possibly a year.” ”Are we going to win?” ”INRA currently calculates that mankind’s chances of surviving its encounter with the Thargoids are about sixteen percent.” ”So we’ll lose.” ”Probably. But we have to try.” With her hand, she wiped out the figures she had drawn with her finger and started anew. ”So what happened at Eta Cas?” ”Ah, yes. That went a bit out of hand. Now, the thing is, the war is drawing near. And it’s time INRA showed itself to the public, to avoid panic when the aliens attack. Which they will. The idea is to do this gradually, and in a way that has INRA gain the sympathy and admiration of as much of mankind as possible. The consequences of uncontrolled panic would be devastating. Better to have people feel that they are being protected. And even better to have them feel that they are being protected by a shadowy, mysterious, and very benevolent force. INRA won the last time; everyone will think that we’ll win again. So there will be no panic. But we have to reveal ourselves gradually and incompletely and rely on mass-psychology and cumulative effects to do the rest. ”So what was supposed to happed was this: We knew that a gang of pirates were planning an attack in Eta Cas, which happens more often than you think. After the attack had started, I was to zoom in, leisurely blast them to smithereens, leaving the trader, you, in a state of grateful and mystified relief. Then I would hyperjump home. You would then supposedly reach your destination and spread the word about how you were saved by that mysterious samaritan, that saint of a pilot. More such events would take place with other traders, and INRA’s psychology department would see to it that the ’INRA’ name came up. They have a whole covert propaganda campaign just starting to unfold. You just watch. It’s public relations of the highest order.” Cam laid back in the sand, hands clasped behind his head. ”But my particular mission failed, because you arrived in Eta Cas sooner than I thought. I didn’t have time to get close enough to kill them until you were very nearly dead. And I couldn’t just leave you there afterwards.” ”You were pretty secretive.” ”I hadn’t planned on taking a civilian aboard. That made all kinds of trouble. And then they had to make up this story about a trading company.” ”Yeah, that was really believable. That Pumgis guy wouldn’t know a crate of luxury goods if it fell on his head from a great height.” ”That bad, huh?” ”Yup. I tested him, talked about trading, asked some absurd questions, and he was clueless. ’Indigenous profits’, sure. But by then, I was already aware of what he was.” ”You’re pretty perceptive. The medical equipment clinched it?” ”They looked so...so... strange and advanced. It got me thinking about what we learned in school about the Thargoid wars and how INRA was supposedly in possession of the best equipment in the galaxy. I remember seeing a film of a wounded man being treated. It just clicked. It’s a bit annoying that I didn’t get it sooner. That Viper of yours, with the weird interior and unbelievable drive and shields... And you, with that Intergalactic Man of Mystery routine.” Cam laughed out loud. ”I didn’t know what to say or do, I’d never prepared for taking aboard passengers! And I knew you weren’t supposed to know who I was. I was really confused.” ”Was that a standard INRA fighter?” ”Yes. Our science is at least a hundred years ahead of anyone else’s.” ”Which, I suppose, is why you were able to call for help from another star-system and then actually get it minutes later.” ”Right.” ”Does INRA have access to alien technology?” ”A long time ago, some desperado independent trader went on a mission for the bugs, stealing an antidote to the INRA-developed mycoid substance that finally drove them back. They gave him one of their own warships for his troubles. He was never caught, although he roamed around the Core in that thing, raising all kinds of hell. But we got his ship intact, eventually, and a lot of what you saw in the Viper has its roots in the tech from that vessel.” ”The hyperdrive?” ”That too. And that is why you and I ended up in the middle of Bug Central. Apparently, what happened was that we were yanked out of hyperspace because the route we had taken brought us so close to their fleet. The techs tell me that those alien hyperdrives work on a physical principle that is not fully understood, but one of the properties of it is that there can’t be too many drives like that running too close to each other. If that happens, they break. That’s why the bugs have their fleet travel in real space, because they value strength in numbers over speed.” ”So my ship exploding wasn’t what ruined the drive?” ”Nope. We were just unfortunate enough to pass too close by the alien fleet while in hyperspace. Well, ’unfortunate’ isn’t quite the word. We did, after all, discover the location of what we think is the main invasion fleet. That kind of intelligence is absolutely invaluable.” ”But on the other hand, they know that we know,” Qita said. ”That complicates things, I would think.” "Yeah, I think so too. Welcome to the world of inter-species warfare.” Qita looked up at the sky. A couple of flying animals, white, with pointy wingtips, were riding on the breeze high up. Birds, wasn’t that what they were called? She lazily tried to figure out when she had last set foot on a planet. Three years at least, and that was just a two hour excursion to get security clearance on Navy Central. It felt good to be on terra firma. She was going to have to do more planetfalls in the future. The breeze rustled her hair and carried with it the noise of the breaking waves from the beach. ”Really nice planet they found us.” ”I don’t think they found it so much as made it, to be honest.” ”What, they terraformed an entire planet for vacation purposes?” she said incredulously. He laughed. ”Yeah, well, you need to relax a lot in a job like mine, you know. And since it’s supposed to be a secret organization, we can’t spend our vacations just anywhere.” He grew serious again. ”Everything you had was in that Lion, huh?” ”Yes. Everything. All my things, my money, my papers, my insurance documents. Not to mention the cargo and the Lion itself. Took me a long time to be able to buy a ship of that size.” ”I can imagine.” ”I knew I was choosing a risky career by going for interstellar trading, but I’ve always tried to minimize risks by trading in safe systems. At least, I thought they were. But I suppose I was lucky just to survive. I guess I can always start all over again. I’m still young, and I’ve got a lot of experience. Still, I lost almost half a million in that explosion. It’s a big deal to me.” The birds must have found something else to do, for they were nowhere to be seen. The breeze kept blowing, and the sun kept shining, and she already noticed that her space-pale skin was starting to tan. ”How long have you been with INRA?” ”Almost a year. This was my first solitary mission.” ”And it was a failure?” Slowly, he sat up again, got up to his knees, leaned in close to look right into her eyes, an indecipherable smile on his lips. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. She suddenly became aware of how long it had been since she had been this close to a man. ”I wouldn’t say that,” he said softly. ”I wouldn’t say that at all.” They approached Earth at a terrifying speed, and Qita noticed that Cam didn’t rely on the autopilot, instead opting to maneuver the Viper himself. This new ship was identical to the old one, which had been deemed irreparably damaged after the fight with the Thargoids. During the whole trip from the paradise planet, Cam had carefully avoided looking at her, which hurt her quite a bit. ”Any particular destination you’d prefer, Qita?” ”No. Wherever you’d like.” ”Li Qing Jao okay?” ”Sure,” she said coldly. He still didn’t look at her. ”When I was in Federal service, that was where I reported after each mission. Some colonel there tried to kill me for his own gain. Don’t think I’ll venture all that close to the military sector. We’ll dock on the civilian side, okay?” ”Whatever.” Cam asked Traffic Control for permission to land on the space station, stating his identity as a trader from Arcturus. He expertly maneuvered past the massive doors that led into the landing area, then had the ship settle in a berth designed to accept much larger craft. ”I’ll escort you out,” he said. He walked quietly behind her down to the station deck. ”I can’t go much further into the station,” he said. ”Oh, right.” She stopped and turned to face him. He was staring out the panorama viewport, where their blue and white planet was looming large and turning slowly. ”I haven’t seen that for some time now,” he said, his voice distant. ”I had almost forgotten how beautiful it is.” Suddenly, she looked up at him and drew her breath to speak, but in his pained expression she saw that there was only one answer he could possibly give her, and that he knew. With a slight twitch of her lips she closed her mouth again and averted her eyes, the question unspoken but known to them both. For a second, they just stood there. Then she felt his warm hand under her chin, gently raising her face up at him in that age-old gesture. He tried to smile at her but failed, emotion almost getting the better of him. ”This is your world,” he said softly. ”That other one isn’t. You were never supposed to see it.” He let his fingers trace down her jaw line, and she felt them lightly trembling. He clumsily grabbed both her hands and squeezed, then let go. ”Live and be happy.” He quickly turned around and marched up the metal walkway to the hatch of his Viper, the heavy INRA-issue planetfall/encounter boots making loud clangs with each step. With a sharp hiss, the hatch sealed the entrance, and thirty seconds later the warship was out in space, accelerating hard away from the station, back out into the night and the blackness. She was alone. She suddenly noticed that he had put something in her hand, something small and hard. A holocube. She clenched her fist around it, tightly. She didn’t need to check what was in it. She knew it would be half a million credits, maybe more, which he had taken from the bottomless INRA resources. Something to help her start a new life. And she would never see him again. She stood there for a long time as, before her eyes, the terminator line on Earth crept imperceptibly slowly across the Pacific toward Asia. A new day was beginning, and the best she could do would be to forget that there had ever been a night. She wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her new shipsuit, turned quickly on her heel and headed for the lifts. paolo.mariani@spray.no  |
paolo.mariani@spray.no