Spinning in Everfall - Chapter1: A Dark Emissary
19 Sep 2024Quillmonkey
The Eccentric Philosophy flared whenever its canopy caught the light from the carbon star. Apart from that it was as dead as the black that swallowed it. The ship spiralled and span in everfall, engines cut, modules powered down so that only the baseline of its life support showed above the freezing void. By hugging close to the dying star Quillmonkey was sure they'd blend into the background noise of the system. In the cockpit all was silent except for the constant washing in and out of the spectrum analyser. Quillmonkey listened, Feet resting on the central scanner, eyes closed. The orange glow of the star played on the inside of his eyelids reminding him of wood fires and warmth and laughter. In reality he struggled to recall the look or the feel of a real flame - one that burned and danced under gravity. In zero-G, all you got was a fat, drifting ball that oozed out of the pipework. His memories, like the carbon star, were fading, dying, cool to the touch.
He may have slept. It was possible. He had time. It was all he ever had.
'How much longer, Commander?' Baylee's voice shook him. 'It's bloody freezing in here!'
'They'll be here,' Quillmonkey opened one eye and took in his pilot. She had done something with her hair. It looked ... different.
'Don't you think we've wasted enough time already? There are people dying in those stations. We've got space and a capable ship, we should be helping the relief --'
'I said, they'll be here.'
Baylee looked about to say something else then thought better of it. She shook her head, her cheeks pinking with annoyance, lips thinning, tightening. She clicked her mag-soles against the decking. There was definitely something about her today but he couldn't afford himself the luxury of staring, not in her current mood. 'You want a coffee?' she asked eventually.
'No, I'm okay.' Quillmonkey raised a tumbler and let it hang in the air, the amber contents welling against the side. 'Hey, why don't you join me? It's a single malt from Aldebaraan. Very smokey.'
'No thanks, you don't pay me to get drunk.'
Quillmonkey laughed unexpectedly but not a laugh that contained even a gram of happiness. 'No Baylee, that's exactly what I do pay you for. So that I can get drunk.'
'Well, no change there, then.'
He let the comment pass and a heavy silence filled the space between them. Baylee grabbed a mug and shoved it into the coffee machine. Overly vigorous. The machine buzzed an angry error.
'You know, Commander?' She took a deep breath as though an idea that had been percolating for a while was now boiling inside her and needed release. 'I can handle your drinking, your self-abuse, your loathing of other people when it only affects us, but I can't just sit here and allow you to sink into some tharg pit of self-pity when people are dying on those stations. This might be how you deal with an attack on your own world but I'm sorry, I've got to do something or else --'
Baylee's flow was suddenly interrupted by the ship's COVAS, 'Frame Shift signature detected.'
'There you go, told you.' Quillmonkey kicked off from the scanner into an upright position. 'Verity, send a tight comm, local band and spool up the engines.'
'Ident broadcast. Engines initialising.'
'Okay,' said Baylee, 'We're not through talking yet, Commander. But I'm professional. I'll deal with the present situation first.'
Great.'
'So, what do we do now?'
'Now we just wait to see who she sent.'
Baylee sounded intrigued and concerned simultaneously. 'You mean you don't know who we're supposed to be meeting? Out here in the middle of the most out-of-the-way, backwater anarchy?'
'Well no, but I can guarantee they'll have one of two agendas. Either to help us or kill us. We should probably prepare for both.'
Baylee rolled her eyes and took her helmet from the back of her jumpseat. 'Why am I not surprised?'
Quillmonkey was tapping the holo emitter in the centre of the flight deck, the image spat and flickered as his fingers passed through it. 'Verity, run a diagnostic on the sensors, I'm not picking up anything here. No heat, no wake signature. Baylee, check the Spectrum Analyser, see if there's anything new. Signals, you know, anything?'
'Sensor Diagnostics complete. Sensors working within defined parameters,' returned the punctual COVAS.
'Nothing on the FSS, Commander.'
'But we're sure there was a high wake? Verity, any chance of a target lock?'
And then it came. The voice was scrambled which made it barely recognisable as human, the interference made it hard to follow. If Quillmonkey had been told he'd set off a million-year-old Guardian beacon he'd have been less surprised than a woman's voice hailing him from an invisible ship.
'Quebec-Uniform-One-Double Lima. Designation, The Eccentric Philosophy. Please respond.'
Quillmonkey closed his eyes, breathed slow and deep through his nose. He felt muscles smoothe and slide into place at the stick, at the throttle, fingertips on the weapon hat. One by one he brought the ship's other modules online; reactor, conduits, vents, distributor, thrusters but not weapons. He would not power up the weapons yet. He turned to look at Baylee who nodded and engaged the telepresence.
'Repeat, Quebec-Uniform-One-Double Lima. Designation, The Eccentric Philosophy. Please respond. My name is Zophia Farringar of the Dark Wheel and I have business with Commander Quillmonkey.'
'The Dark Wheel?' asked Baylee, her eyes creasing suspiciously. 'But I thought --'
'Not now.' Quillmonkey's finger twitched over the hot weapons button on his stick but he did not deploy. Instead he reached for his helmet and snapped the catches in place. His suit recognised the action and immediately connected him to the life support unit built into the chair.
'Ship scan detected,' added The Eccentric Philosophy's COVAS.
'So why can't we see anything?' whispered Quillmonkey under his breath.
'Quebec-Uniform-One-Double Lima. I repeat one final time. My name is Zophia Farringar and I have business with --'
'This is Quillmonkey. What's your business?'
For a few moments nothing but static filled their ears. Then the voice began again, this time warmer, more human. 'Quillmonkey. I've heard a lot about you.'
'Yeah? Well, none of it's true. Who sent you?'
'Who's to say anyone sent me? I might be here to claim the bounty on your head.'
'Oh, no. I'm clean now. You won't find a parking ticket on my licence. Besides, if you were going to take me down you'd have done it already. You must know we can't pick you up on the scanner.'
'The Dark Wheel don't collect the kind of bounties they put on pilot's licences. No, the price on your head will have been put there personally by people who don't really exist, for an action that no one believes ever took place. Am I correct?'
'I've done my time. I'm a law abiding citizen of the galaxy now.'
'Now.'
It was the way she said it that made Quillmonkey wonder. There weren't many records left, very few people who had any real knowledge. Sure, he could be placed in the picture but ... if she did know, it sounded like she wasn't the only one.
'Look Zophia. If you want to take me down, how about you get to it? If not, just cut the crap and tell me who sent you.'
There was something in the static crackle silence that made Quillmonkey think the other pilot was smiling.
'Okay Quillmonkey. I've got a message from Cardosa. She'll meet but she doesn't trust you. It's got to be on her terms. Not any of my business but I'm guessing there's bad blood between you if she's got the Dark Wheel involved. For now though, we've only been issued a watching brief, for now.'
'Okay,' he nodded, clicking the weapon safety back in place. 'Her terms, whatever. Just let me know where and when.'
'UTC fourteen. One week today. I'm tight encrypting a package, you should be able to scan it now.'
A bright blip appeared without cause on the scanner, less than a kilometre from the starboard wing. Quillmonkey couldn't help himself but strain round to look out of the window but there was nothing out there except black and the glow of the star.
'Encrypted data received. Frame Shift Drive detected.' COVAS chimed.
'Should we stop her?' Baylee asked as the scanner blipped out of existence once more.
'No, let her go. We've got what we need.' Quillmonkey pulled down the comms link and began running the data through the matrix.
'What is all that crap?'
'Looks like a permit and co-ordinates for our meeting with Cardosa. Negative Four, Negative Six, Fifty-seven point nine-seven.
Baylee pulled off her helmet and shook her hair out. That's when Quillmonkey noticed the earrings. The thing that was different, that he couldn't put his finger on. She was wearing large cascading red and gold earrings.
'They don't look like any co-ordinates I've ever seen,' she said, staring at the same comms console, her face only inches from his.
'No, you wouldn't have. Before your time.' Quillmonkey snapped the console away again and looked around for his tumbler. 'It's an old GalCop grid reference. Negative Four, Negative Six and Fifty-seven point nine-seven light years from Sol.' He flicked up the navmap and swiped through Lave and Reorte, past Alioth and then pinched out. 'Beethin,' he said, certainly.
'Beethin?' Baylee echoed. 'But there's nothing there.'
'Not on this map there isn't. When GalCop disappeared, quirium wasn't the only thing to disappear with them. Verity, set co-ordinates to this area. You'll find a star that's not on the charts. That's the one we want.'
'Plotting co-ordinates.'
'Meanwhile,' Quillmonkey located his tumbler in the jumpseat utility. In the chaos he'd still had the foresight to replace the cover. 'Won't you join me, Baylee? It's going to be a very long flight to the Faraway Post and you're no longer on duty, so maybe we can discuss how much I like your earrings.'