The Reforged Trilogy: Book 1 — Crucible of Stars
Chapter 7
Stray
“Experiences are like feathers. Some may get ruffled, but all of them are important if you want to fly.”
– Ceres Flavia, Prian minister (24 PA)
Stray was eight days from Axis and the galactic core at superluminal speeds. Gripper spent most of the journey working down in the cramped engine room. Without ground time on Axis to make repairs, the atmospheric recycling system and FMS relays were still broken. Gripper watched the SL drive jolt and shudder with almost paternal worry, clenching and unclenching his huge hands at every grating sputter.
In her usual caring — end meddling — fashion, Xia made sure that the fretting mechanic ate and slept on something like a regular schedule. She brought Gripper plates of vegetables from his garden in the cargo bay and remained with the Arboran even after he had eaten them all. When the Phoenix’s lights dimmed in the evening, she lured Gripper away from the engine room with questions about his homeworld until the words became a tired mumble and he finally fell into much-needed sleep.
On the fourth such night, Xia sat up with Gripper in the cargo bay. He perched on the edge of one suspended planter, mournfully inspecting his garden. New seeds and fertilizer had been ordered back on Axis, but they left before receiving the shipment and now Gripper’s garden was looking more than a little empty.
“Claws let me install these,” Gripper told Xia. “When he found out I couldn’t eat that protein goo. He said a sick engineer wouldn’t do him any good and to set up whatever I needed.”
That sounded like something Tiberius would say, Xia thought. Cranky but caring. Tiberius obviously liked the eager young alien, but it would never occur to him to say so.
A catwalk ran along the top of the cargo bay, connecting the fore and aft of the Blue Phoenix. Steel mesh stairs led down from the walkway to the floor of the bay. Xia sat at the bottom of the steps, balancing her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.
“Tell me about Arborus,” she said.
Xia hoped that Gripper would tire himself out talking. It was already late and she was too sleepy to think of a less obvious ploy. It was the same one she had used last night — and the night before — but Gripper was always delighted to talk to anyone who would listen about his homeworld. If he knew what Xia was doing, he didn’t say anything.
“I downloaded the latest planetary surveys from the Axis mainstream,” Gripper said. “Before everything went crazy with Smoke and Coldhand.”
“Have you been able to look them over?” Xia asked.
Gripper nodded, making his long ears bob. “Yeah, a little. No sign of Arborus yet, but all of the updates are to stellar systems in the core. Do you think the Alliance will ever send more ships out to the rim?”
“I don’t know,” Xia said. “It’s expensive to fly out there and the Nnyth make it dangerous. Not to mention whatever wiped out the Arcadian White Kingdom.”
“I suppose,” Gripper agreed. “And I’m not sure Arborus is in this galaxy at all. It’s the most beautiful world I’ve ever seen. Still, even after all the places we’ve gone.”
Xia leaned against the railing of the stairs. Her antennae felt heavy and she fought back a yawn.
“Arborus is all forest. Huge, gorgeous green trees everywhere,” Gripper said. “I never saw the edge of the forest. Maybe there wasn’t one. You know the starscrapers on Axis? There are trees on Arborus just as big.”
Xia knew the story of how Gripper left Arborus. Everyone on the Blue Phoenix did, but that didn’t mean Gripper was tired of telling them. Xia’s eyes fell shut and she smiled. She could see the whole thing as he spoke.
The world was a green one. The very air seemed alive. Leaves the size of CWAAF starcruisers overlapped and wove together to create a landscape of jade, complete with lakes and streams of clear, sweet rainwater.
Arboran villages dotted the smooth emerald hillocks. They built their homes out of deadfall and strips of leaf tied with vines. Simple but sturdy. Stone and metal were almost unknown to these tree-dwellers. The dangerous places where they could be found were far below the canopy where the Arborans made their homes. Here amongst the treetops, the threats of the world on the ground seemed so very distant.
“There aren’t any computers or ships on Arborus,” Gripper said. “Not that I ever saw, and I visited four different villages. There’s just the trees and the sky. We all stay up in the leaves with the rain and sun. Unless one of the trees falls.”
Xia cracked an eye open as Gripper climbed down from his suspended planter garden and wove his way carefully around the slender illonium cables that attached it to the ceiling struts. He grabbed onto a support, sinking his clawed fingers easily into the tempered fibersteel. Arborans often slept hanging from the limbs of their trees with no fear of falling, he had told Xia. Gripper dangled above her.
“My mother warned me not to climb the old sycona tree, but I didn’t listen. I liked the big purple flowers. They were sweet and a little crunchy. I was hungry, so I climbed out there. But the tree was sick and it fell.”
The air was filled with a terrible tearing, wailing sound as the sycona fell. Huge branches, grown entangled with its neighbors for hundreds — perhaps thousands — of years finally ripped free. Young Anandrou must have screamed as he fell with the old tree, but his voice was lost in the thunder. He leapt, scrambling to find a hold, searching for anything that wasn’t plunging toward the ground. But the tree was dying. Leaves weakened by sickness wouldn’t support his weight and Anandrou couldn’t climb fast enough to get away. The ancient sycona pulled him down to the forest floor far below.
“I was holding onto the tree and the fall was pretty slow — compared to a ship crashing, I mean — but I think the sudden change in altitude knocked me out. When I woke up, I was down below the canopy. It was so dark and I was so scared.”
Gripper swung slowly back and forth on the cargo bay support. Xia leaned against the stairs to look up at him. The young alien was massive, his huge hand strong enough to crush metal… but there was true terror in his eyes just at the memory of his fall into what must have amounted to the Arboran underworld.
“I was on the ground,” Gripper said. “Not the real ground, you know, but the dirt one all the way down in the roots. I could barely see anything — all of the leaves on the trees are up high, near the sunlight, and they grow really thick. So I ran for the nearest tree and started climbing.
“But then I saw something, some kind of light. Not sunlight, even the weak stuff that comes through the canopy. This was bright blue, like phenno when it burns. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone down there. I had to find out where it was coming from.”
Anandrou moved carefully on bruised knuckles, picking his way between the vast tree trunks, each one tower-wide and gnarled with age. The ground was a tangle of thick roots and slimy soil. He squinted after the blue glow when it vanished behind the trees as he wound through them. Mud squished between Anandrou’s fingers. The Arboran boy fought down a sharp surge of panic each time he lost sight of the azure light, the only beacon he had here in the darkness.
But his curiosity was stronger than his fear. What could be down here, in the forbidden, dangerous depths of his world?
“I didn’t really think there was anything in the dark except that blue glow… until everything started changing. I didn’t realize that I could see the trees, but I knew when they were gone.
“I was in a city. I think… I couldn’t see much, but there were definitely buildings. They kind of reminded me of Axis, down on the lower levels. There were these huge towers, but it was all falling apart. I wanted to look inside them, but I was still trying to find the blue light.”
“And you did,” said Xia.
“Yeah. It was in the middle of all the buildings, and there was a sort of clearing with a smooth white floor. All around were these… rings. They were different sizes and made of different stuff. Some of them were just barely big enough for me to squeeze into, but there were rings that the Blue Phoenix could fly right through. But one of the little ones was glowing bright blue.”
Anandrou’s pain and fear were forgotten in a second. What was that glowing ring? The surface was segmented and densely packed with writing that he couldn’t read. And inside the ring, through the sapphire light, was… something. Another place that wasn’t Arborus.
“It was a gateway of some kind, but there was someone inside it. They were a lot smaller than me and wearing a cape or something, I think. It was hard to tell — they were already stepping through the blue light and it was all blurry. I shouted, but whoever it was didn’t seem to hear me. So I tried to grab them.”
Hanging overhead by one hand, Gripper mimicked reaching into the light to seize the stranger. Almost anyone else would have run away from the strange, rotting city and certainly wouldn’t have stuck their hand through an unknown portal trying to save a mysterious shadow inside.
Xia shook her head and then looked up at Gripper as he told his story. She could at least stay awake for it.
“As soon as I touched the light, there was… blue,” Gripper said. “I couldn’t see the city or the ring or anything else. Just blinding light. When it finally faded, everything was different, even the sun. I was in the middle of a big grassy field.”
The blue glow was gone and a pair of small, bright suns lit the sky. Whoever he had been reaching for was gone, too, and Anandrou was alone in the field. He whirled, searching, but there was no blue light, no caped shadow, no glowing ring. And no way to get home. Anandrou was stranded.
“I found some humans and Lyrans, eventually,” Gripper said. “Once I learned a little Aver, they told me the planet was named Kahl and it was part of the Central World Alliance. No one seemed to know what to do with me, but some of the Lyrans taught me about engines and computers. I guess that’s not telling you about my home, though.”
“No,” Xia agreed. “But I’m still listening.”
“Smoke says the thing I went through sounds like a Waygate.”
Xia blinked and looked up. “Those only exist on the rimworlds, as far as we know. That’s why you think Arborus might be out there, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But Smoke also said the Waygates just go one way. They can send you almost anywhere, but there doesn’t have to be a Waygate on the other end. Kind of like a slingshot, I guess. You can shoot a rock off in any direction and be pretty accurate, but unless whoever finds that rock has a slingshot, too, they can’t send it back.”
“Did Maeve say anything else about the Waygates?” Xia asked.
“Not much. Just that the thing I went through doesn’t look quite like the Waygates in Arcadia,” Gripper answered. “But they’re all unique and no two are exactly alike. Apparently. Smoke wouldn’t say a whole lot, you know?”
Xia nodded. “Yes, I do. Arcadians don’t often discuss the Waygates. But I’ve been told that it’s not because they’re trying to keep secrets. A gate was involved in the fall of the White Kingdom, somehow, and most of their Waygate specialists died during the resulting violence.”
“Do you know what happened?” Gripper asked.
“No,” Xia said. “There are a few accounts from the survivors, but they are… unreliable. I have a friend who specializes in archaeogenetics that might have access to those records, but I’m a doctor. I’ve never read them.”
“We could ask Smoke about it,” Gripper suggested.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Xia stood and stretched, her multitude of knuckles cracking as she flexed her long fingers. “Can you sleep yet?”
“Nah. I’ll go check on the engines and make sure they haven’t thrown a rod,” Gripper said, shaking his head. “Thanks for staying up with me again, Silver. It was really nice.”
Xia waved and retreated up the stairs. Gripper would just have to get himself to sleep tonight. The Arboran dropped with a loud thump to the floor of the cargo bay and headed into the aft of the Blue Phoenix.
When she reached her quarters, Xia quickly stripped and slid into bed. She told the lights to turn off and pulled the sheets up around her shoulders. But she didn’t fall asleep.
Gripper had joined the Blue Phoenix crew a year ago, hoping that Tiberius’ travels might lead him back to Arborus. But as far as Xia knew, Gripper was no closer to home now than he was the day he appeared on Kahl.
What if Gripper’s homeworld wasn’t in this galaxy? There was no way to cross the great black emptiness that separated galaxies. No one in the Alliance built a ship self-sufficient enough to make such a long journey. Even the three-month flight out to the rim was so taxing that the CWA had given up on exploring it. In the century since the Arcadians had appeared in the core, they hadn’t returned to the White Kingdom. If an entire species couldn’t make the trip home, how could one lonely Arboran?
Under Gripper’s watchful eye, the Blue Phoenix limped to Stray. On the eighth afternoon, the ship dropped out of superluminal flight and the sandy beige planet leapt into focus outside. A computer-generated signal gave Tiberius clearance to land in Gharib, one of only four large cities on Stray.
Duaal watched Tiberius take the Blue Phoenix down through Stray’s thin, dusty atmosphere. A few shiny blue flecks of phenno flaked away in the heated air. Duaal leaned forward, scowling at the controls. They just seemed to operate more smoothly for Tiberius…
Orphia gave a warning sound somewhere between a hiss and a screech. Duaal glared at the hawk.
“Hey, watch it,” he said. “I can light your tail on fire with a word, remember? Well, a couple of words…”
The Blue Phoenix bumped lightly down onto Stray’s surface and Duaal turned his glare back to the controls.
“I swear I did it just like that on Axis,” he protested.
“You need more practice,” Tiberius said. “A lot more practice.”
Duaal sagged back into his seat and sighed, rolling his eyes. The old Prian captain shrugged and switched on the intercom.
“I want to see everyone in the cargo bay before we all fly off into the city. We’re here to do a job,” Tiberius said. As an afterthought, he added: “Coldhand, this doesn’t apply to you.”
Duaal stopped frowning and laughed. “You really like to rub it in, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Duaal glanced up through the cockpit’s solar shield at the fat, swollen red sun hanging low in Stray’s sky. Another hot day on another hot planet. His outfit was going to be a sauna out there. But Duaal pulled on his gloves and stood. Tiberius coaxed Orphia up onto a leather sleeve and they headed out of the cockpit, down to the cargo bay.
Kessa waited with the others assembled in the hold, standing behind Xia and eying Maeve warily. The Arcadian princess was about as welcoming as a block of ice. No, not a block of ice — the cold sounded damned welcome right now, Duaal thought. Maeve looked as friendly as a drawn gun, then.
Despite the fairy’s prominent role in saving Kessa from the Sisterhood, the Dailon still treated Maeve cautiously, spending her time instead with Xia or Gripper. Tiberius shook his head at the pregnant woman and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“No, you stay on the ship,” he said. “We don’t know if this place is safe for you yet.”
Kessa looked disappointed, but nodded and rubbed her hands over her round belly. A week confined on the Blue Phoenix must have had her itching to go outside and stretch her legs, but not enough to risk the life of her baby.
Tiberius gestured to Maeve. “Take Xia and go find out if the Sisterhood is around. Gripper, get working on those repairs. If we’re wrong and this place is trouble, I want to be ready to fly.”
“Will do, Claws,” Gripper said. “I bought most of the parts back on Axis. All I need is enough ground time to install them.”
“Get on it,” Tiberius told him. “I’ll go talk to Xyn about getting some more phenno. Duaal, we’ve had an extra mouth for the last week. We need food.”
The captain pulled a red cenmark chip from a pocket of his black vest and tossed it across the cargo bay. Duaal caught Kessa’s eye and winked. If she couldn’t leave the ship, he would at least give her something to watch… But by the time he managed to murmur the levitation spell, the scarlet chip had fallen onto the floor and Duaal hastily scooped it up.
“What’s he doing?” Kessa whispered.
“Magic, I think,” Xia answered.
“Is that how it’s supposed to work?”
“No,” Maeve said.
Flushing, Duaal shoved the money into his pocket. Tiberius grunted and stroked one of Orphia’s faded wings. The old hawk didn’t hiss at him, Duaal noticed.
“Stray gets shipments from all over the galaxy,” Tiberius said. “Take your time and look around. You can use whatever’s left on that chip to get something for yourself.”
Duaal perked up a little and shot a sidelong glance at Maeve. She didn’t get extra spending money.
“But stay sharp,” Tiberius warned. “Stray can be dangerous.”
“Hey, can I go shopping, too?” Gripper asked, raising his hand. “Stray is one of the best places in the Alliance to buy used parts.”
“No,” Tiberius answered. “Repairs. Xyn’s shop isn’t far from the landing crescent and I’ll be back with the phenno in less than an hour. I expect you to have some progress to report, Gripper.”
“Aw,” the Arboran grumbled. “Alright, Claws.”
Kessa waved farewell to everyone and wandered back toward the stairs and her quarters, humming tunelessly to herself. Gripper turned on his knuckles in the direction of the engine room to begin his work. Tiberius opened the airlock and Duaal followed him out onto Stray’s dusty surface.
