Tethered Worlds: Blue Star Setting Read online

  To Jordahk, in tune with the device, Nuria's glow felt weak.

  "Try pushing farther," Aristahl said. "The next apartment."

  Jordahk swung the device, but there was only darkness. He tried focusing where the next apartment would be, and the etch pushed through the rock to suddenly show the silhouette of a man eating a meal. His clothes seemed lit from the inside, the orange glow illuminating his utensil.

  "Mr. Leonor," Humberto said. He sounded surprised, but his animation faded. "I was prepared to risk my family with Sojourners, perhaps even imprimaturs." He looked down. "But fate has sent me you instead. But at least you have mystic affinity and can make the device work. I'll have to take that as my sign."

  An inkling made Jordahk turn the device toward the hall, coming immediately upon the bright shapes of young children following the dim silhouette of a bot.

  "Sosimo," Nuria said. She had come to stand behind them.

  Jordahk lowered the etch, and its appearance returned to faceted blue crystal. He pocketed it while the feeds were uncovered and the rest of their measures camouflaged. Nuria introduced the boy to "her friends." He was precocious, but it took on a sinister cast in light of his indoctrination.

  "I'm supposed to keep an extra eye on you," Sosimo said, "because you're strangers."

  They had an evening snack together, and Humberto shared a few containers of stashed away maltus.

  "I had to trade many food points for them. It's one of the few treats Nuria and I enjoy together."

  Jordahk didn't know much about maltus, or anything about this generic brand of it. During his long adolescence, he drank the variably alcoholic beverage on occasion. This one tasted decent. Kind of sweet. The alcohol was only for flavor, because his micros broke it down by default.

  "You talk funny," Sosimo said to Aristahl. "And your robot's weird." Then he grabbed Khai and pulled her away to play.

  "A delightful boy," Torious said. "May I administer a sedative?"

  Somehow, Humberto knew to ignore the strange bot. He leaned forward, speaking quietly so that only those at their little, unfolded table could hear. "A few more years and no one will remember the stories of how Beuker was. We are choked, unable to grow, our resources and skills drained away for the benefit of other worlds." He seemed relieved to be able to talk about it finally.

  Sosimo dumped out a container of tiny, metal blocks. They unfolded to full size when he touched them. Khai joined him on the floor.

  Humberto continued. "There won't be anything left for him by the time he reaches manhood. Our infrastructure will be carried away. And the way they're teaching him, he won't care."

  "You're pretty," Sosimo said, "like Jaan."

  In a rare bit of emotional candor, Khai looked down at herself skeptically. "Really?"

  "She's getting her own epiVAD."

  Ugh.

  Jordahk thought the boy too young to have such appreciation for the buxom star. He was also starting to wonder if Khai knew to set her micros to break down alcohol.

  Aristahl moved the conversation forward, building upon Humberto's resolve. It was now or never. With the resources drying up, the mining operators were resorting to reassessment of the original tunnels in the large khromathyst mine asteroid. Supposedly, in the deepest, first tunnels, Aristahl's ship sat, awaiting the light of day.

  Humberto could give them little new military information. But he emphasized that the Polis were everywhere and had AIs monitoring everything.

  "Have you ever heard anything about Archivers?" Jordahk asked quietly. He glanced over toward Khai and saw Sosimo staring at him before he went back to playing.

  "I only know they're a branch of the Starmada that get their way. My grandfather said they swept the system meticulously after the war for anything Sojourner-related."

  Humberto informed them it was going to take another day to get everything approved for launch to the khromathyst mine. Aristahl needed to navigate additional layers of bureaucracy personally.

  "It is best you keep a normal routine tomorrow," Aristahl said.

  "I was going to shop after Sosimo is picked up," Nuria said.

  Aristahl nodded to Jordahk.

  "Khai and I will accompany you," Jordahk said. He was learning the power of information, and maybe in the course of the day he would be able to pick up something useful.

  "I have to put some hours in at the recyclers," Humberto said.

  He was interrupted by Sosimo's expression of amazement. Khai was perched one-footed upon a tiny platform made of the play blocks. Her remaining leg was thrust out horizontally, and stone still, toe pointed. Her arms were stretched out like wings. Abruptly she changed her position, leaning back impossibly until her hands touched the floor. One leg pointed straight up, and her red-cheeked face was upside down, even with the little boy's.

  "Whoa," he said.

  Khai lifted her leg off the blocks, brought both over the top, and ended up standing behind Sosimo. He turned around in joyful amazement.

  Jordahk couldn't suppress a wry grin.

  Humberto seemed flummoxed. "Who is this girl?"

  The surfaces of every finished hall and the air of every tall chamber was filled with state approved media feeds and advertising. Jordahk noticed certain angles up through the VADs left open to show the government feeds, or leave a line of sight on the Perigeum hexagonal symbol. It was carved into every hub.

  Those close to his age trudged by without watching where they were going. They didn't even bother using lenticular VADs to hide their never-ending existence in the social nexus. Their displays ran the gamut from inane to foul. No wonder Sosimo knew and perhaps even appreciated Jaan.

  His father called it "culture pollution," but Jordahk never understood it fully until now.

  After a travel tube ride, Jordahk and Khai followed Nuria into the lower-level bazaar. The chamber was the size of a sports field. Buttresses of stone rose to be lost in the VAD cloud cover.

  "What is that smell?" Khai asked.

  "Humanity."

  The air was thick and hazed over distance. Amidst the suspended VAD sea that his mind had already begun to ignore, he noticed an unnatural change. A moving line of sight was opening for a pair of half-meter objects flying in formation.

  "Chekas!" Nuria commed. "Keep your head down. Do not look at them."

  "Public observation and enforcement," Max link-said.

  "Enforcement?" Jordahk sub-whispered.

  "Yeah, they're armed. Usually nonlethal, but not always."

  They acted nonchalant as the machines lowered to examine a group entering the bazaar in front of them. The people stopped to allow it, although he heard no command.

  The fan noise from the two machines mixed into a dissonant warble. It grew louder as they approached.

  "Just stop," Nuria commed.

  Something rose up within him. "No!" he commed to Nuria and Khai. "Keep walking unless we're commanded." He refused to be intimidated.

  The machines hovered before them, matching their walking speed. He glanced casually at one and continued as if it was nothing. They looked like a cross between a military reconnaissance drone and an oversized stun floater. A high-powered bracer might be able to take one out. Their light armoring didn't look grister proof. Then again, nobody on HAB rock but the Polis or Starmada carried bracers or gristers.

  He got that violated feeling again, similar to what the longwave scanners engendered at the port of entry. The machines hardly seemed interested in Nuria but gave Jordahk and Khai a good once-over. The first continued on finally, but the second lingered over Khai. It moved down her length, as if it was leering at her. His patience was thinning rapidly.

  Suddenly, he heard Aristahl's voice through his link. Max was synthesizing it from a secure text message his grandfather had somehow managed to get through.

  "Be patient a little longer, Jordahk." His voice was calming. "Chekas are dangerous, but not as much as those who might be looking through them."

  "I can d
estroy those machines," Wixom link-said.

  The AI's whisper was a dreadful temptation.

  Smelting hell.

  The second cheka moved off when they reached the shops. Jordahk looked at Khai. The defined line of her jaw and the flat-brimmed hat bracketed her face. Her gray eyes seemed almost luminous in the shadow.

  "You have a way of attracting attention," he commed. At least he hoped that was it.

  Her mouth didn't move, but something about her eyes almost smiled.

  They went into a shop, and Nuria began telling them of how little buying power they had. The uni was the standard transfer currency of the Perigeum, but the commerce in the bazaar was transacted with hard coin of electrum alloy. He smiled. Somehow, even here, the free market found a way.

  An import company he remembered seeing on the upper level had a stall set up in the bazaar. Apparently, they were not above getting hard coin to grease palms that needed greasing. He stopped at a container of genuine Haelan nutriment stores. A Haelan trusteak made from those stores was one of the few things for which he still had an appetite. He could almost taste it. The proprietor watched him approach out of the corner of his eye.

  A VAD indication of the price in electrum floated above the nutriments. Using the "business" coin line they had set up through the Perigeum-based banking planet, Aventicia, was an unnecessary risk. But he was carrying platinum ingots and chits.

  "Will you take platinum?"

  The shopkeeper's narrow face lit up with surprise. "Platinum? Why yes, of course." He had the decorum not to drool.

  The noble metals, especially the platinum group, were as close as humanity came to universal currency where coin lines were a no-go. Max worked out the conversion.

  "I'll give you ten chits platinum for the Haelan container," Jordahk offered.

  "I'm sorry, but this is very much in demand. We don't get in much Asterfraeo nutriments. I couldn't let it go for under fifty platinum."

  "We're being followed," Max link-said.

  Jordahk saw a boy slink into he crowd. It was time to get going.

  As for the price, 10 was fair, and he would go 15. After all, Haelan was long way off. But 50?

  An air of desperation permeated the entire rock. The bazaar was like a boom town, trying to squeeze every last coin from the new and fresh-faced. It tried to break the will until there was nothing left but conformity.

  "Why isn't your electrum price reflecting your platinum quote?"

  The man's eyes shifted to the crowd where the boy had disappeared. Then he took the "being offended" approach. "I'll have you know my conversion takes into account serious overhead. You, sir, can take it or leave it."

  Jordahk stared at the electrum price floating above the black metal container. He schooled his anger carefully, but a tiny portion slipped through. A brief surge of uncalled for activity spiked in Wixom. Suddenly, the VAD prices of everything in the shop flickered up 500%.

  "Wixom," Jordahk sub-whispered in reprimand.

  But his heart wasn't in it, and a mischievous grin crossed his face. The shopkeeper seemed flummoxed and was apparently sub-whispering to his compy to fix the "error." Passersby who looked at the merchandise got one glimpse of the prices and moved on without slowing.

  "Wait," he called after one particularly well-dressed couple. "It's a mistake!" More walked by. "Please disregard our prices. I mean these prices aren't right. I mean we're experiencing compy problems." He turned back in a huff.

  Jordahk tried to look innocent, but he couldn't get the grin off his face. The man's false indignation melted away, and he just looked angry.

  "You did this."

  "Wixom tripped something," Max link-said. "Tricky little trap. Apparently, someone was tapping this guy's compy."

  He should have controlled his anger better. Yes, Wixom had acted upon it without authorization, but it was his own fault. Khai touched his elbow, and he became aware that people were watching. This was not the low profile he was supposed to be exhibiting.

  "Just take it for ten and get out of here," the disgusted shopkeeper said.

  Jordahk flicked him a twenty platinum chit and grabbed the container. "Keep it."

  They slipped into the crowd. Nuria, who had melted away early on, rejoined them.

  "That was unwise," she commed. "The planner sees all that goes on down here."

  "The planner?"

  "Yes, you go with the plan, or not at all. That vendor may be in trouble for unauthorized gouging. But the planner won't be pleased having AIs interfere in his domain."

  "Someone fixed Wixom's little trick," Max link-said.

  "The vendor?" Jordahk asked.

  "No, someone from outside."

  "Losing your touch, Wixom?"

  "It was a rush implementation in a primitive system," the Bitlord's creation said.

  "Let's duck out in there," Jordahk said.

  He pointed to the best looking of the few restaurants lining one side of the bazaar.

  "I've never been in there," Nuria said. "We cannot afford such things."

  "You can today."

  The restaurant was two levels, the upper a balcony about half the size of the main floor. It was strange to look up and not see VADs. The owner of the establishment must have enough clout to have them turned off in his central space.

  The clientele looked better-off than most they'd encountered on the lower level. Perhaps they were upper-level patrons of the bazaar. The balcony was for private party use. Moments after they sat, it hosted a group of Polis and musclebound types of the kind that threw people into walls.

  "Okay," Jordahk commed to the women, "perhaps not such a good idea."

  "If you leave before the food comes it will only draw more attention," Nuria commed.

  The restaurant wasn't high-end enough for traditional cooking, but a few of the nutriment combination recipes looked interesting enough. When the food came, Nuria ate like a house pet sneaking food she wasn't supposed to eat. Khai made everything she ate look good. Jordahk realized this must be a whole new taste experience yet again for her. But he couldn't escape detecting the faintest hint of mushroom. Max insisted sensing that within the nutriments after recombination was impossible, yet, nonetheless, it was there.

  A man walked in to acknowledging nods and waves. His high-quality clothes were a mix of Beuker earth tones and dark Polis gray.

  "The planner," Nuria commed. She sounded worried. "Are you sure this communication is safe?"

  He nodded. Wixom could smelt any compy that dared get in between he and a secure recipient.

  The man took the old-fashioned stairs, which were certainly easier to use in the half-gravity. When he looked their way, Jordahk recognized him as the sharp-nosed man with the wide mouth.

  This just keeps getting better.

  Two goons left the balcony, returning moments later "escorting" a thin, old man. There must be a private entrance. Sound shielding was up, but apparently "the planner" liked others to witness his actions, and see that they were Polis-approved.

  Stern looks and silent shouts crossed the balcony. The man was being threatened, but he didn't cower.

  "Max, can you get any of that?"

  "The sound shielding's tight. I could get some from lip reading, but they're being careful. And all their compies are security hardened. Looks like the same signature that undid Wixom's little trick back there."

  Sharp-nose had the station's Polis under his thumb, was manipulating local commerce, and had serious compy power?

  "Who's the old man?" Jordahk sub-whispered. Wixom started revving up. "No, Wixom. We've already been too obvious. This guy will catch on. Max, find a backdoor into a local datalattice. Let Wixom push through just enough to get info. Stay undetected."

  Jordahk and Max had spent years developing routines compensating for Max's lack of raw computational power. Recently combined with Cranium's octal library, they were quite adept at finding surreptitious solutions to brute force problems. The activity in his compy z
igged and zagged. Both personalities were working.

  "His name is Gaspar," Max commed the group. "He really is old, at least by current Beuker standards. Was a miner, fought in the war, and returned to mining under the Perigeum. Eventually became head of exploration in the khromathyst asteroid. Now retired."

  "What about sharp-nose?"

  "You're not going to like it. Just his name. Vanquo Vaporean."

  Fashion names no longer surprised Jordahk, but they still intrigued him. "Vanquo Vaporean? Nothing else?"

  "He's involved with command-level activity. His profile's empty. Wixom could push through, but there's at least a half-dozen traps attached to his name. Looks like a powerful AI is constantly wiping his footprints."

  Much like what Barrister did for Aristahl. Except Vanquo wanted his face attached to his name for the power it carried.

  A VAD those in the balcony didn't bother to hide appeared before the old man. Jordahk's rets were not zoomies, but it was easy to discern. A defaced image of one of the carved Perigeum logos was displayed. A blood red slash was cut or burned into the lower right of the hexagon.

  "Rebounders," Nuria commed. She scrunched her face as if her food tasted terrible. "A bunch of crazy old fools."

  "Max?"

  "Hmm... The Rebounder Society: A secret sect awaiting the return of the Sojourners. They are prosecuted as political dissidents. Largely found on outer Perigeum worlds, specifically those taken during the war."

  "Like Beuker."

  Jordahk didn't know if destiny was chasing him or if it had an ironic sense of humor. There was too much convergence with their mission. Did Gaspar know something? What did Vanquo want? It was one question too many.

  "Okay, that's it," he sub-whispered. "Max, is there a spy device at this table?"

  "A low-quality audio/vid pick up in the table light. Since we've been using secure comm, I've left it alone outside of face-replacement routines. We're supposed to be keeping a low profile."

  "Wixom. Burn it."

  The powerful AI didn't hesitate. "Place your hand on the table."

  Jordahk felt a faint buzz go through his palm, like that through his finger the year before when Waxad corrupted Max. The light emitted one brighter pulse, and a tiny stream of smoke rose from its housing.