Star Runners: Dark Space

Chapter 14

14

It felt like walking into a forgotten exhibit at a second rate carnival. And smelled just as bad.

Josh’s feet stuck to the surface as he descended the cracked cement stairs, each step creating a suction sound mixing with the steady droplets of water falling from a thousand streams in the ceiling. At least, he hoped it was water.

Josh shook his head and wiped his nose as if he could wave away the stench. A flickering bulb hung from a leather cord, swaying as a cool breeze drifted through the lower chamber. Boxes with broken chicken wire and cracked aquariums lined the room.

"What does this guy trade in?" Josh asked.

"Exotic animals or, at least, he used to,” Foster said as he strolled between the stacks of odd containers. “Not sure where his products are."

Josh winced as he passed a crate with stained straw and round droppings from whatever had lived inside.

"Oh!" Matta blurted out, covering her mouth with both hands. “This is bad."

"Just don't touch anything," Josh said, following Foster.

"Don't worry," she whispered, hurrying to catch up.

A red light burned at the far end of the basement, hanging over a rusted steel door with a slit near the top. Josh figured it must be where the mysterious "contact" would be found.

"Stop," a voice boomed from the darkness.

Josh froze. Matta bumped into his back and gripped his hand.

Foster sighed, lowering his head to the floor. "I need to see Camiso."

"And you need to show some respect."

Turning around, Foster glowered into the dark. "Do we have to do this every time, Tristan?"

Laughter rumbled from the blackness, the kind Josh couldn't determine if it was friendly or the type a villain released before striking his foe. He looked to Foster, who placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. The tension creeping up his back eased, but only a little. He left his hand near his pistol and squeezed Matta's with the other.

A tall, thin man emerged from the shadows, weaving through the stacked containers. His broad, looping ears seemed out of place on his skeletal seven-foot frame. Bending his head down to avoid hitting the ceiling, he smiled as he approached Foster, his beady eyes nearly disappearing as the bony cheekbones rose.

"Been a long time, Barry,” Tristan said.

Josh blinked. Barry?

"Been busy," Foster shot back, nodding toward the door. "Bardrick in?"

"He is," the towering man said, his voice impossibly deep as he glanced in their direction, raising a shotgun toward Josh. "You taking on passengers now?"

"Hardly," Foster said. "They're with me. No need for the gun." He looked back toward the empty cages. "You guys coming on hard times or something?"

"Magistrate changed again," Tristan said, lowering the weapon to his side, "if one even pays attention to them as they pass on by. This one decided he'd make some bank on increasing tariffs." He snickered. "He won't last long."

"Waiting him out, eh?"

"Yep." He c****d his slender head to the side. "We got other ways to bring in credits, and you know the Magistrate's guards can always look the other way with the promise of a payoff."

Josh thought of the guards on the streets above, watching the crowds with leery expressions while brandishing all manner of weapons.

Tristan's face slumped, his eyes falling back on Josh and Matta. "You vouch for these two?"

Foster nodded. "Sure. They step out of line, and I'll kill them myself."

"All right," Tristan said, producing a medallion the size of a silver dollar hanging around his neck. He pressed it, and the steel door rumbled up to reveal a room bathed in the blue, flashing light of a dozen televisions. "He's in there watching his screens. He knows it's you."

"Thanks," Foster said, marching forward.

Taking one last look at Tristan, Josh followed Foster down the slanting path.

"Barry?" Josh whispered.

"Forget it," Foster snapped.

Ahead was a bowl-shaped chamber with screens lining cement walls to the curved ceiling. The video feeds ranged from news programs to security camera footage.

And sitting in the center of the bowl was a man with a black hood hunched over an elaborately decorated hookah. The jewels on the stem sparkled under the images' light. Inhaling deeply, he leaned back and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Galaxy gets meaner all the time, my friend," he said, his voice raspy and rough.

"You'd know better than most," Foster said, taking up a position on the far side of the room, his eyes flicking from the screens to the man. "I need some information."

The man cackled, the laugh collapsing into a convulsing cough. Leaning over, he spat into a brass container under his cracked leather seat. "Doesn't everyone," he finally said, leaning back. "What is it this time? You looking for a woman to share these lonely nights?"

"Hardly."

"Who else is here?" he asked, turning around.

"Not important."

"Like hell it is."

Sighing, Foster waved Josh forward.

"I've taken on some help as of late," Foster said in a tone as if beginning a seminar. He gestured toward Josh and said, "This is Mikael. He joined me on Claria."

Trying to hide his confusion, Josh nodded once.

Inhaling off the hookah, the man hissed, “Ah, Mikael. I am Bardrick Camiso. You sailing with this man now?"

"Yes." Josh inched around the back side of the room, his gaze fixated on the man they had come so far to see. With his pale skin, Foster's contact looked like a wax candle. Disappointment filled him as he stared at the so-called informant in whom Foster placed such faith. "I am."

"He feels you've taken him on a worthless errand."

Josh frowned. "What? I didn’t—"

"Forget it," Bardrick said, raising his hand. "I'm not much to look at. Then again, Barry doesn't come here for the sights. He comes here for the information."

Josh rubbed his chin, wondering how the man could have guessed his thoughts.

"I have some gifts that come and go," Bardrick said with a grin, answering Josh’s nonverbal question. "Helps me in this line of work."

With his jaw hanging open, Josh stared at Foster.

"Can we get on with this?" Foster asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't relish being here again and time is a factor."

Bardrick released a sharp crackling sound, his bloodshot eyes never leaving Josh's. "Barry doesn't like having to depend on others. Flaw in his character, you see. Surprised he brought you along, Mikael. If that is your name. Barry's always quick to the point and quick to leave. He'd rather be alone out there in the void. Rude, don't you think?"

Josh clasped his hands on his belt, feeling more out of place with each passing moment. “I—"

"Okay," Foster said, "enough psychology, Camiso. I'm on the job here, and I need to move."

"Oh?" Bardrick's eyes glimmered. "Another poor soul caught in your crosshairs? What did this one do? Cheat at cards?"

Foster closed his eyes. "Doesn't matter."

"Ah," he said, holding his bony finger toward Josh, "notice the lack of feeling in his voice, the carelessness."

"Enough," Foster shot back. "I'm tracking a man who's somehow allied with a force known as Pisceans who’ve been rampaging across the stars on a killing spree. Now, I believe they’ve slipped over to Dark Space, and I need to find them. Can it be done?"

"Oh," Bardrick exhaled, stuffing the hookah stem into his mouth and staring at the screens, the electric light washing over his face. "Dark Space. Interesting."

"Well?" Foster asked, stepping in front of Bardrick. "Can it?"

Taking a long drag off the hookah, Bardrick stared unfocused at the screens. "Long have humans tried to unlock the mysterious Dark Space since the research of Banekell Don, but few have succeeded."

"That's nice," Foster interrupted as he paced the room, "but I need to know if there's a ship that can do it."

Bardrick stared at him. "Your target apparently did it."

"And I don't know how. I’m sure he had help. Is there a ship that can make this journey?"

Suddenly, Bardrick looked around the room. "I really need to move from Ilman City. Perhaps I could find a place on a remote moon, start a farm and raise cattle. Would cost a crate of credits, to be sure."

"You know something," Foster said, squinting like a poker player with a good hand. "Don't you?"

"Everything's always about credits, isn't it?" Bardrick glanced at Josh. "You know how it is on Claria, right? Everyone needs a DNA experiment to alter what they've got and then can't afford to change it back again when they sober up! Am I right?"

"Right," Josh said, faking a smile as he took a step back.

The man was insane—how could Foster trust any information he provided?

Foster raised an index finger toward Bardrick. "How much?"

"Twice my normal fee," he said without delay, puffing on the hookah. "Times are tough, and it's been a while."

"Inflation, huh?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Deal. Tell me what you know."

Bardrick set down the hookah stem and rubbed his hands together as if he prepared to tell a grand tale.

"The Shoborians in all their peaceful wisdom came the closest to making a successful journey to Dark Space within the last decade—Zahlian standard calendar, of course." Bardrick stood and shuffled to a stack of discs and scattered papers as he continued, "Rumors drifted over the border that our nonaggressive friends of the Coalition had cooked up something new, much to the chagrin of the Empire. A Shoborian Engineer—I believe the name was Deidra Kowal—had unlocked a way—in theory—to traverse the space from the known galaxy to the beyond."

"A curve that powerful would be impossible," Foster said without emotion. "It would require the capacity of such—"

"A black hole, you see."

Foster's lips parted. "Pardon?"

Bardrick hesitated, offering a pleasant expression. "I'm sure the look on your face was what many had when the fair Deidra made her announcement and heralded a new era of peaceful exploration for her people. She’d conjured up a way to harness the power of a black hole to bend time and space to make the journey possible. Imagine how the Zahlian Empire would react if such travel were possible. Forget their space lanes and restrictions on curvature drives—a fleet with the power of this Shoborian drive could travel to the Legion capital worlds in a matter of moments before anyone could react. Quite an ability to be sure."

"But something went wrong," Foster said, leaning against the wall of screens. "Otherwise, this technology would’ve been taken by the Zahl."

Resuming his search through the stack of discs, Bardrick muttered, "You know as well as I do that one does not simply sail into Shoborian Space and steal technology. Peaceful they may be, helpless they most certainly are not."

"So what happened?"

"No one knows," Bardrick said, holding a disc up to the light emitting from the screens and pressing it closer to his eyes. "The Shoborian Coalition launched their test ship named Jarna, and it successfully sent a message from Osiris, the closest star system located within Dark Space. The Coalition was quite pleased."

Foster's eyebrows rose as he leaned forward. "And?"

"Something happened on the return journey."

"What?"

Bardrick swiveled around brandishing a mischievous expression. "No one really knows."

Foster held his hands in front of him. "How does that help me?"

"Well," he said, shuffling toward Foster with a disc tucked between his fingers, "I intercepted a report claiming a Zahlian quarantine along the Frontier's border had been established, so I looked into it. Rumor has it there’s an abandoned vessel parked on a remote world called Avlagsen."

"So?"

"So," Bardrick continued, obviously relishing the attention, "the report was classified and encrypted, but I was able to ascertain aspects of it. Apparently, the plant life on Avlagsen around the parked ship had accelerated and evolved at irregular intervals."

Foster shook his head. "Would you please explain how this has anything to do with my initial question?"

Bardrick glanced back at Josh. "He knows nothing about nothing, does he?" Before he could answer, Bardrick spun around. "Black holes bend space and time. If something ruptured within the Shoborian drive, then the energy field around the ship could cause time to pass differently for life forms in proximity, correct?"

"I suppose."

"After the report was transmitted, Zahlian command placed a satellite in orbit quarantining the planet and labeling it off limits!" Bardrick shouted, dropping the disc in Foster's hand. "This moon has to be the final resting place of the Jarna after it returned from Osiris. The coordinates and all the information you'll need are on this disc."

Foster eyed him. “If the entire planet is quarantined, then it must be unstable."

"Or the Zahl Navy isn't prepared to risk a salvage team to head out that far," he said with a grin. "You know as well as I do that the best way to prevent unwarranted attention is to make a stray passerby think the planet is plague-ridden, right?"

Foster stared at the disc as he twirled the disc between his fingers. "Even if this ship is dormant and lying there waiting for us to restore it and fly it to Dark Space, I'd need a navigator, this engineer—hell! I'd need a crew to embark on this journey. Is this the best you can do?"

Bardrick shrugged. "You asked for a ship capable of making the journey to Dark Space. You didn't say anything about a crew. Not my problem."

"Do you have any idea where Deidra Kowal would be?"

"I do actually," Bardrick said with a grin. "But it'll cost you."

Foster paused for a long moment, never taking his eyes off Bardrick. "Fine."

Bardrick bobbed his head. "She's actually at the Redemption Library."

"What?" Foster asked. "On Triaxia?"

"Yep. Been lobbying her government for an investigation into the Jarna situation for quite some time. As far as I can tell, she's been unsuccessful in her attempts. Her reputation has fallen quite a bit, as happens with genius—and misunderstood—minds."

Foster turned around and faced the wall, nodding as if he made calculations to himself. When he turned back around, his eyes twinkled, and he smiled.

"If we can get this Deidra Kowal to help us fly this thing," he said, the words coming slowly, "I think I know of a navigator who could help us. This might be possible after all."

"There!" Bardrick clapped. "It's settled! You may go now!"

“Anything else you can tell me?” Foster asked.

Bardrick’s eyes bulged as he stared at the ceiling. “People say the first sighting of these Pisceans was in the Avlagsen System. Don’t know if that’s helpful.” He clapped his hands. “You may go now!”

Foster shook his head and stepped toward Josh. His jaw dropped, the expression sending a shiver down Josh's spine.

"What is it?" he asked.

Foster's brow lowered. "Where's Matta?"