Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic (12 page)

“It might even get you a discount,” Valerie added
with a smile.

“A few more things worth noting: a day on Huya is
just over 33 hours, and a lot of the plant life is semi-intelligent.  It gets
freezing cold at night, and…” Zerki trailed off.  “What’s going on?” she
muttered.  Her console buzzed twice rapidly, angrily.  Huya’s landing grid
overrode the shuttle’s flight controls and guided the vessel toward the
starport nestled against the coastal metropolis of Kore.  “Oh, they’re taking
us in,” she stated.  “That’s new.”  The clouds parted before them.

Huya’s coasts and swamplands, her rolling hills
and glinting mountains stretched out before them as they closed on the city of
Kore.  A near-constant and gentle breeze ruffled the coast, and a hodgepodge of
structures sprawled across the land. Under her rapidly rotating binary sun, Huya’s
sky was dark blue overhead and faded to brilliant scarlet red toward the
horizon.

Blessed with a crust rich in gems, Huya had long
ago served as one of the Union’s core production worlds.  As such, it had
reveled in the luxuries and exquisite architecture afforded it as a Prized Planet. 
When Huya’s key leaders began to ask for a deeper cut of their own supply, the
Union revoked the planet’s prized status and looked to other worlds for its
gems.

Rather than seek a return to the galactic
government’s good graces, Huya withdrew its membership, confident that it could
maintain its own standard of living.  While food was bountiful, it floundered
for decades trying to establish a basis of economy, and smaller nations had
begun to splinter off and war for regional control.  Many of Huya’s greatest
structures and most of its quarries were consumed for their metal, and now few
of the ancient wonders remained.  Lumber and fishing abounded, and new
structures were built from wood, many with thatch roofs.

The shuttle’s landing struts bounced and settled
on the surface of an open-air hangar bay.  Kore’s bustling starport spread far
and wide, a sea of diverse and salty folk.  At its western end, it doubled as a
seaport, and old taverns and timeworn stone spires lined the perimeter.  They
stood tall amongst tents, betting cages, street food vendors and shanties. 
Pillowy clouds scudded by under the midday suns, casting shadows upon the roofs
and streets of the harborage.

Zerki and her companions filed out of the crew hatch
onto patched and re-patched blacktop.  As they stretched and took in their
surroundings, a ghalloom harbormaster swiftly approached.  Zerki stepped
forward to greet him with a terse smile.

“A prosperous longday,” he oozed.  His skin was
velvety and indigo in color, and it had the mottling of tiny cobblestones.  Two
glassy eyes extended slightly from the sides of his head, and vestigial
tentacles wreathed his beaklike mouth.  He stood half as tall as Gavin.  “This
poor little bird has no name?”

The captain shook her head.  “She’s attached to
the
Sanguine Shadow
, positioned in high orbit.  How much to make berth?”

“If you ask it that way, I could charge whatever I
want,” he sneered.  “The berthing fee is 50, and 300 more is the price of
insurance.  Banditry is on the rise, after all.”

“You thief!”

The harbormaster laughed derisively.  “New to
space travel, are you?” he jeered, and he extended his fleshy, boneless hand.

Zerki scowled.  “Fine, take it.”  Gavin watched
her retrieve a roll from a vest pouch and pull four narrow sheets of
elaborately decorated paper from it.  She pressed a total of 350 Union credits
into his grip.  The ghalloom could scarcely contain his excitement.  When she
had finished, she stood back and crossed her arms.

“Welcome to Kore,” chimed the harbormaster, and he
laughed as he walked away, counting his newfound wealth.

Zerki leaned toward Gavin.  “Union credits are
worth a fortune out here.  That’s more money than he’s probably seen in a year. 
It’s likely he was hoping I’d pay him in platinum, but he was probably
expecting bluebacks.  I could feel his heart jump when I pulled out my roll of
credits.”  She dryly laughed.  “He could buy a new house, probably a nice one,
with that much money, but he’s as subtle as a gun.  He’ll never get the
chance.”

“You signed his death warrant,” Gavin replied, aghast.

“No, he did that all on his own.”  Zerki looked
toward the rows of taller buildings before retrieving a weighty purse and
counting out dozens of platinum coins.  She distributed them to her
companions.  “That should be more than enough,” she said with a friendly
smile.  “Make sure you buy some thermals and a winter jacket.  You’ll need it
in the morning.”

Zerki proceeded to lead them around the immense
market square.  It was a mix of mostly ghalloom and ellogon vendors, and the
locals seemed excited to see new faces in their midst.  They bought clothing,
footwear and curios, and they tried a host of local foods.  By mid-afternoon,
Gavin had personally sampled eight types of dried cephalopod, a crunchy
reefstar, a small bag of deep fried sea fairies and something that looked very
much like a scorpion.  They had all enjoyed a round of candied fruit, as the
townsfolk gathered to hear tales of heroism and high adventure.

·· • ··

Huya’s binary sun had reached the western horizon when
the travelers decided to take some rest near one of the betting cages.  Gavin,
Taryn, Takeo, Valerie and D’Arro conversed and sipped bready ale with some of
the locals, seated around a tree stump table.  A few paces off, Zerki spoke in
hushed tones with a scarred and rugged ellogon fellow.  One tusk was filed to a
stump, and ebony etchings lined the other.  A thick mane of gray, woolly fur
framed his face, bunched atop his head, and a wadded tuft of it peeked out from
under his neckline.

In time, the suns gave the sky entirely to a
gibbous moon.  It bore a decidedly blue tint and sat high amidst the stars
before Zerki had finished her negotiations.  Weary from a long day of standing
and walking, she returned to her companions and plopped down at their table. 
They gave her their attention, and she graciously bid the locals farewell. 

“He’ll sell us his swamp buggy,” she said when they
were alone.

Gavin nodded.  “What do you know about it?”

“He’s practically in love with the thing, for
one.”  She looked toward the ellogon, and he grinned in response.  Zerki
nodded, smiled politely and returned her attention to her companions.  “It’s
amphibious, runs on a cold fusion power core, and it purrs like something called
a ‘thrak.’  I didn’t dare ask him what a thrak was, for fear of being stuck
there for an hour of thrak stories.”  She puffed her cheeks.  “Nice guy, but he
really likes to talk.”  She blew into her hands and rubbed them together.  “He’s
agreed to take us to see it in the morning, which is in about ten hours.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” asked Valerie,
and she fought the urge to yawn.

“Let’s find a bed and breakfast,” suggested Taryn. 
“This place is so rustic, I bet the food is amazing!”

Unhurried, they got to their feet and took stock
of the surrounding buildings.  Taryn spotted a tall, cozy structure with ample
windows, and supposing it might be an inn, approached it.  Her companions
followed.  Its wooden signboard was written in relief characters that neither
Taryn nor her companions could read, but there was a pink, neon octopus on it
that flashed between two poses: dining and slumbering.

“This looks promising,” said Takeo.

They crossed through an arched door, its upper
jamb a pair of steeply angled, overlapping boards, into a dimly lit foyer that
was heated by an enclosed fire pit.  Brightly colored coral sculptures stood in
the corners, and coupled with the fish painted on the walls, gave the reception
area a surreal undersea quality.  From across the room, a ghalloom fellow
greeted them warmly and presented the registry.

Zerki paid for three double rooms, and she joined
her comrades in the dining area for a warm meal.  A cheerful ghalloom waitress
attended them.  She didn’t speak her guests’ language, but she understood
enough to provide excellent service.  Mustard yellow and bright blue strips of
sweet and sticky paste bound rolls of savory meat and filled their senses with
exotic salts and juices.  They laughed and talked, sipping on bowls of crisp,
steaming red leek soup and tangy rice wine.

When they had finished, D’Arro and Takeo took one of
the rooms, and Zerki and Valerie took another.  With his room key in hand,
Gavin led Taryn along a narrow hall to the room they would be sharing.  The
walls were painted pale yellow with bright red trim, and high-seated bowls of
glowing stones cast soft illumination.  As he fumbled with the lock, Taryn
sagged against him.

“I think you’ve had too much wine,” he chuckled.

Her eyes bleary, she faced him and said, “I
don’t.”  She tugged on his shirt, eventually gripping him by the lapels.  With
a quiet laugh, she released him and swayed as she regarded the now open door. 
“How did you…  When did you do that?”

“Just one of my magic tricks,” he answered, as he
pocketed the key and pushed the door open completely.  Inside, they found a
small, rectangular space with a bed and a bathroom at the far end.  A pair of
nightstands framed the headboard.  The walls were decorated with faux thatch,
and a trio of broad, thick leaves spun slowly overhead, serving as a ceiling
fan.

Taryn braced herself against the doorknob and
lunged for the foot of the bed.  She nearly made it, plopping instead with a
thud upon the wood floor.  “Damn it,” she grumbled and pulled herself up onto
the bed.

“You alright?”  Gavin sat down next to her.

“Yeah, I’m just a little tipsy.”  She crossed her
arms in her lap and leaned forward over them, nestling her head against her
elbows and forearms.  “Ugh, sorry Gavin.  I didn’t realize it was rice wine
until it was too late.  That stuff hits us ospyreans like a truck.”

He chuckled warmly.  “I know that.”

“But you know that.”  She peeked from between her
arms and smiled.  Sitting up straight for but a moment, she toppled backward
onto the bed and watched the ceiling as it spun wildly overhead.  She closed
her eyes and let her body handle the spinning.  “Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about us?”

He reached back and squeezed her hand.  “All the
time.”

“Do you ever miss me?”

With a sad chuckle, he squeezed again and released
his grip.  “All the time.”

Rolling onto her side, Taryn curled into herself
and whispered.  “Sorry.”

“It’s OK.”  He picked up one of the pillows and
put it down on the floor, positioning it between the wall and the bed.  He fluffed
it as best he could and eased down onto his back.  “I’ll be alright.”

“Gavin?”

“Yeah, Taryn?”  Whatever she had been about to say
eventually gave way to even, steady breathing.  With a bittersweet sigh, Gavin
rolled onto his side and whispered, “Good night, Taryn.”

In time, restful sleep came to them all.

“The
entrepreneur always searches for change, responds to it, and exploits it as an
opportunity.” –Peter Drucker

Huya’s binary sun dared to
steal a glimpse from over the horizon, and dawn seeped into the eastern
everglades.  Brisk air gnawed at Zerki and her companions, their breath
tumbling forth in visible clouds.  Despite having dressed warmly, they felt the
morning’s bitter chill and talked sleepily as they waited.  They each cupped a
tall, glazed-stoneware mug filled with tea or coffee.  Steam rolled forth from
their drinks.  Nearby, D’Arro had placed a large duffle filled with their
weapons and gear.

At last, they spotted the ellogon ambling toward
them from across the market square.  He moved easily and steadily.  Zerki
welcomed him with a cheerful smile and a gloved handshake when he had drawn
close enough.

He enthusiastically returned the gesture.  “You’re
all aces for waiting,” he grinned.  “You won’t be sorry you did!  She’s no
brown-eyed mullet, if you catch my meaning.”  He winked and nodded toward
Zerki’s crew, his cheer bright on his gnarled face.  As they began to cross the
frosty market square, he said, “I didn’t get a fair go at making any of your
acquaintance, last night.  Sorry about that.  Name’s Thamsummu.”

“I’m D’Arro,” replied the ospyrean giant, and he
hefted the duffle.  “No offense, but most ellogons don’t give a scraphawk’s
eggs about someone else’s ‘minions.’  Not that I’m complaining.”

Thamsummu laughed as they began to walk.  “That’s
on the Imperial beam, and it doesn’t fly this deep out.  Us downtusks are a
might kinder, a might more respectful.”  He clapped D’Arro’s back, wearing a
triangular grin.  “We’re all friends, today!”

D’Arro coughed from the impact.  “That’s decent of
you.”

They shook Thamsummu’s hand, each in turn.

“Taryn.  Pleased to meet you.”

Valerie smiled and introduced herself, and Takeo
did the same.

“Gavin.”  

“Outstanding,” sang the ellogon, and a bit more
spring came to his step.

In time, they passed through Kore’s eastern gates
and stepped off the main road onto an everglades back road.  “Let me go first,”
he cautioned.  Gene key detectors recognized the ellogon, and holographic
emitters projected green torches to light the way.  Well-trained constrictor
vines moved to either side of the road at his approach, and he led his guests
along the path.  Not much later, they had arrived at Thamsummu’s vehicle shack,
where he hurried on ahead.  With some effort, he pulled aside a sludge-spotted
steel hangar door and gestured for his guests to enter.  His guardian vines crept
back into place as they passed.

Inside, cloth tarps covered half a dozen machines,
and shop lights that had been hung from the ceiling cast brilliant cones upon
each shroud.  Off to the right, a dusty workshop stooped as if in pain,
cluttered with scores of parts boxes spread across dozens of shelves and the
cold, concrete floor.  It was dimly lit by a gently swinging diode bulb at the
end of a thick, insulated wire.

D’Arro set down the weighty duffle.

Thamsummu approached a vehicle near the front of
his bay and pulled down its tarp with all the drama of a stage magician.  A
billowing dust storm followed in its wake and set his visitors to fits of
coughing.  With unflagging good cheer, as dirt settled upon his fur and tusks,
Thamsummu uttered, “Isn’t she a beauty?”

Nearly twice as tall as Gavin, the vehicle before
them projected an air of age and indestructibility.  Wider at the back, its top
half was a swoop of curves and heavy green steel, pressed firmly over the
lengthy machine like a titan’s shield.  Its surface had been painted to
resemble giant serpent scales.  A reinforced amber canopy sat on top, just
behind the front wheels.  Ringed, chrome pumps broke through at four points,
converging on the cockpit, and reached down into the deep engine recesses. 

The lower half was a massive, plastiron canoe,
complete with dual headlights, tree trunk-sized cooling pipes, a sealed
undercarriage, and panels of snakeskin relief work where it met the top half. 
Circular hatches interrupted both flanks’ midpoints, and four immense, rugged
tires bore the vehicle’s weight.  Every one of the buggy’s warning placards and
most of its filth had been scrubbed free.  Its paint had begun to fade, to peel
away in scattered patches, and spots of rust softened a few of the edges.

Its port hatchway groaned, rolled down and away,
and Thamsummu stumped inside.  After a moment, a throaty grumble filled the air
as the vehicle’s cabin lights glowed, and the fusion-powered engine awoke.  The
ellogon emerged and said, “See?  Purrs like a thrak!”  He hopped down onto the
concrete floor and wiped his hands on his denim trousers.  “That’s a classic Doovalacky.”

Zerki bit down on one side of her cheek and cast a
studious glance toward Gavin.  “We’ll take it,” she said and added, “Everyone,
climb aboard.  Gavin, you’re driving.”

Gavin grinned.  “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She counted out Thamsummu’s payment and shook his
hand.

D’Arro lifted the duffle, and one by one, they all
hunched into the confines of the swamp buggy.  Interior lamps splashed amber light
upon the vehicle’s benches, rigging, driving controls and occupants.  It was
spacious inside, with padded benches that framed a long aisle leading to the
driver’s station.   At the back of the vehicle, turn locks held fast an
assortment of engine access compartments.

Zerki closed the external hatch, and Gavin eased
the swamp buggy out into the bog.  It took handily to the murky surface.  Zerki
retrieved her tablet, called up the coordinates of her meeting place, and
programmed them into the buggy’s navigation component.  She sat beside Gavin in
the passenger seat.

Takeo and Valerie sat near each other on the
right-side bench and quietly conversed.

Seated on the left-side bench, Taryn tried several
times to engage D’Arro in conversation, but he had few words for her and
clearly felt guilty in sharing even those.  It wasn’t long before Taryn simply stared
out the starboard window hatch.  She silently watched the everglades zipping
by.  In time, they reached a well-kept private road, and Gavin followed its
curves and rises.

·· • ··

It was well past midday before they had drawn
close to their destination.  Far up ahead, a shabby chain fence cut a vast
swath through the bog.  All along its visible face, signs in every major
language group issued warnings to keep out, which penal code sections would be
violated by trespassing, and that all trespassers would be shot.  It was
interrupted by a guard shack, barracks and a hydraulic barrier that dipped all
the way to the ground.

“Is this where he lives?” Gavin asked.

Zerki answered, “Possibly.  I can’t say for
certain, but this is where he likes to meet.”  She twisted around to address Taryn
and D’Arro.  “You’re on.  Takeo, go on ahead and find a good firing spot.”

Takeo nodded and picked up a blaster rifle from
the duffle.  “Where are we meeting afterward?”  He tapped open the starboard
hatch.

“Back here is fine.”

With another nod, he hopped down from the buggy
and vanished into the overgrowth.

Taryn grabbed a pair of ellogon rifles from the
bag and tossed one to D’Arro.  She gripped the handle just inside the starboard
hatch and seated herself halfway out the door.  D’Arro readied his weapon and
took position at the port-side hatch.

Gavin slowed to a stop, some distance off, and the
swamp buggy rumbled as it idled.  He looked to Zerki.  “Am I driving through
the gate?”

She answered, “Only if no one raises it.”

Slowly and steadily, the buggy rumbled into motion. 
As they drew near, the hydraulic arm suddenly swung up, and a smartly dressed
ghalloom fellow stepped into view from inside the shack.  He straightened his
pinstripe suit.  “Zerki, are you in there?”

The swamp buggy slowed to a stop.  Zerki picked up
a hand microphone, switched on the loudspeaker system, and pressed the black
side button.  “Possibly.”

“You can call off your sniper and the rest of your
goons.  It’s just me.”

Narrowing her gaze, Zerki released the button and
glanced to Valerie.  “Is he telling the truth?”

Valerie closed her eyes, and after a while,
nodded.  “I don’t sense anyone else nearby.”

“Thanks.”  Zerki set down the handset, got to her
feet and squeezed past Taryn.  She landed on the ground and approached the ghalloom. 
After studying him for a moment, she looked to where she expected Takeo had
positioned himself and signaled for him to return to the buggy.  After a
moment, they heard rustling coming from Takeo’s direction and spotted signs of
movement.

The ghalloom visibly relaxed.  “Much better.”

“Hello, Kanlen.  It’s been a while.”

“Almost two years,” he replied, and he smiled
slightly.  “Far too long.”

Zerki dryly laughed.  “Let’s talk.”

“Straight to business.  You haven’t changed a
bit.”  He slipped his hands into his pockets.  “Ever heard of Gilrenk,
haute-Iff’lar?”

“It doesn’t ring a bell.”

He retrieved a piece of paper.  “Well, he’s your
buyer.  I’ve written down his address and a single-use access code, but don’t
bother with direct navigation.  This is his beachfront estate, and you’ll have
to drive up the coast to get there.  Use the back door.”  He pressed the paper
into Zerki’s outstretched hand.  “Nobles today go to such great lengths to
appear like they don’t care about anything, and he has an image to preserve.”

“Why drive up the coast, then?  Why not just
handle it all electronically?”

Kanlen shrugged dismissively.  “He wants to meet
you.  If he likes you, he’ll send over his own guys aboard his personal hauler
to inspect the salvage.  If they like what they see, he’ll pay you, and that’ll
be that.”

Zerki smiled professionally.  “Thanks.”  She
produced her roll of credits and counted out several bills that she passed to
him.  “See you around.”

“Wait,” he said as she stored her money.  “I got another
lead, if you’re interested.”  He leaned in and whispered in her ear.  When he
was finished, he pulled away and nodded.  “It’s a good lead.”

She crossed her arms.  At last, she nodded and
promised, “If it pans out, I’ll send you twice the normal fee.”

Takeo appeared soon after and returned with Zerki
to the swamp buggy.  Once everyone was inside, Gavin backed up and returned to
the road.  In time, it vanished beneath the smothering overgrowth, and he
pushed across acres of swampland before reaching the coastline.

Zerki said, “Everyone who’s not driving should grab
some shuteye.  We’ve been going all day, and we still have a long way to go.” 
She looked to Gavin.  “Wake me when you get tired, and we’ll trade off.”  She
dimmed the interior lights and turned on the heater.

“Will do.”

Taryn, D’Arro, Valerie and Zerki curled up on the
padded benches.  Takeo accessed the buggy’s internal audio player and created a
list of soothing, ambient music.  He set it to random loop and joined his
friends in rest.  Gavin hummed along to the music as he drove the massive buggy
onward, steady on its course over rocks and sand.  It bounced and rocked as it
traveled, lulling the passengers to sleep.

·· • ··

At certain points, the buggy skimmed the ocean’s
surface, charging through her rolling waves.  The farther north they traveled,
the more cliff-like the shoreline became and the more time they spent in the
water.  While afloat, vents opened in the underbelly, and a pair of sizable internal
propellers kept the buggy moving at a steady clip.

Eventually, Gavin slowed to a stop and turned the
vehicle over to his captain.

Zerki settled in and resumed their northward trek.

Huya’s suns had just set below the seaside horizon
when Gilrenk, haute-Iff’lar’s seaboard estate drew nigh.  Zerki roused her
companions.  Seated at the edge of a soaring cliff face, the ghalloom noble’s sprawling
mansion gleamed in the gathering starlight, a softly lit glassy testament to
the artistic potential of brazen geometry.  A steep, narrow and gated road ran
from the beach to the high parking garage, lit by hovering lamps.

“Can you take the wheel?” she asked Gavin, and he
nodded in response.

The crash of waves eclipsed the rumble of the
swamp buggy’s engines, as Zerki exited the vehicle and hurried to the gate at
the base of the ramp.  She withdrew the piece of paper Kanlen had given her and
entered the access code into the gate’s security interface.  After a moment, a
cheerful recording announced something in the ghalloom native tongue, followed
promptly by, “Access granted!  Please enter.”  The gate slowly swung inside.

It started to rain.

Zerki hurried back to the buggy, pulled her jacket
tightly around her, and she climbed inside.  Gavin inched the vehicle forward,
past the gate’s threshold and took stock of the drive’s width.  “I think we’re
a little too wide,” he said, and he looked to his captain.

“Hug the wall,” she advised, and the buggy growled
quietly as Gavin pressed the accelerator.  Very slowly, they made their way up
the drive.  Rocks crunched and scraped the right side of the vehicle, and Gavin
stopped hard.  Zerki said, “Just push through.  She can take it.”

Exhaling steadily, Gavin said, “OK,” and he pushed
through.  Rocks split and tumbled along the side, spilling onto the roof, and
soon the path was clear.  He resumed his ponderous advance.

Taryn said, “Hey, Captain,” and Zerki turned to
regard her.  “What was that starship we saw outside of Scar?”

“The one that was wiping out the ellogon response
fleet?”

She nodded.  “Yeah, that one.”

“Probably one of the Union’s secret weapons.”  She
turned forward.  “But I’m not about to start knocking on doors to find out for
sure.  I could be thrown in prison or executed for treason just for having
footage of it.”