Guardsmen of Tomorrow (23 page)

“What we’re all here for,” he returned. Luis was sweating, not from the company or his ever-present nerves, but from the temperature. Despite the refrigeration of the ship and his flight suit, the heat was becoming more intense as they neared NGC7078. Space was cold, but not this close to a star, not in this ship, so large it had as much gravity as an asteroid. He extricated himself from the chair and squeezed by Reah as she flipped her faceplate down. He didn’t see any sweat on her face.

“Dad’s waiting for you,” she said, her soft voice barely audible through the tinted mask.

Luis made his way through a narrow corridor, pressing his face against the walls every few yards. The walls were supercooled, and thus provided some relief, He tried to wipe the sweat away from his forehead, but it was a futile gesture. Should’ve railed against the Colonies’ latest style, he thought, not shaved his head and let his graying hair soak up some of the water. Or perhaps he should’ve rethought this whole venture. He caught himself when the ship lurched, swinging around. A moment later and he was in one of the massive bays, a dozen suited men in front of him, all overshadowed by massive pieces of equipment they were inspecting and adjusting.

Luis purposefully strode toward the tallest man, the only one not wearing a helmet.

“Sean…”

“Captain Melka,” the figure corrected. The man was like his daughter only in that he moved gracefully. The captain towered over Luis. He was large, but not heavy, with long limbs, the thick muscles of which were hidden by the suit. His skin was dark, like oiled walnut. Caucasian, Luis knew the captain’s skin had been darkened by his close exposure to dozens of dying stars. There were minute traces along his cheeks where sun blisters had been surgically removed, but for the most part his skin looked like smooth leather. His long black hair was tied at the base of his neck with a cord studded with tiny meteorite fragments. There were only sparse strands of silvery gray on the sides and peppering his short beard and bushy eyebrows.

He could have easily passed for fifty, Luis was certain, though he knew Captain Melka had recently celebrated his eightieth birthday. Perhaps living away from Earth, Mars, O’loth Four, and even the Dartmoth Colonies contributed to his and his daughter’s youthfulness. Living away from the pollution and the press of people riddled with germs, away from planetary gravity and man-generated radiation. Luis envied the captain his longevity, but he wouldn’t trade lifestyles to gain a few extra decades. Everyone eventually died.

Even the stars.

There were only a few wrinkles at the edges of the captain’s unblinking eyes. Luis tried to look away, but found himself held by the old man’s stare, as if he were caught in a vise. Those eyes were a milky blue, like Reah’s, but where hers were placid and practically emotionless, the captain’s were wide and wild. There was something dangerous and uncertain hiding behind them, madness perhaps, a keen intelligence. They filled Luis’ vision and rooted him to the bay floor.

“Captain. Yes. Captain Melka. Sorry, sir,” Luis finally managed “I am…”

“Late,” Melka finished. “With my daughter again. No matter. We’re not in as much of a hurry this go ‘round. No sign of pirates.”

“Pirates, Captain?”

The eyes narrowed and menace flickered behind them. “I’ve been plagued by them the past two years. I thought you knew. Mining companies trying to profit from my expertise.”

Luis nodded. He remembered some mention of raiders in the bar at the spaceport, but he hadn’t paid much atten-tion. He was there only to talk Sean Melka into doing a little mining for him. Melka’s fee was extraordinary, but Luis’ family had the money-and would gain much, much more if this endeavor was successful. Luis explained he was looking for a certain type of star, and Melka knew how to find just what Luis wanted. But Captain Melka wouldn’t tell him where they were going-not until moments before they left the port. And until Reah called it NGC7078, Luis didn’t know the star’s designation.

“I don’t tell anyone where I’m going anymore,” Melka had explained. “No flight plans. I don’t even tell my crew. ‘Sides, none of them have families. They don’t need to be calling anybody.” He pointed to his forehead. “Only I know the course up front. That way there’re no leaks.”

Luis learned during the voyage that while it takes a long while for a star to die, there are a few key and relatively brief points within that time frame when it releases the purest of substances, including high-grade neutrinos, bringing top dollar to those with the equipment and the courage to gather them. And at other precise stages, previously unknown elements were also belched out into space, these being the most sought after of substances. Miners could name their prices for these on Earth or the Dartmoth Colonies or sell them to the highest bidder at public or clandestine auctions. And Captain Melka, who had made a fortune several times over, and who had a few elements named for him and his daughter, was known for mining stars at just the right time. Apparently it was that knack and knowledge that caused the

“pirates” to follow him rather than pursue their own planetary nebulae.

Lewis listened as Melka explained that they plundered his finds after he left a star to reach a port and drop his first load of cargo, raping the gases and particles so his return visit was like drilling for oil in a near-dry field. Once they were so close on his proverbial heels that he wasn’t even able to fill his holds a first time. They chased him away with their lasers. Melka’s ship was only lightly armed; weapons cut down on cargo space. The captain said he had been pestered thus only a handful of times.

But it was apparent those times had birthed the suspicions and unease that now plagued the old man, perhaps contributing to that mad glint in his eyes. Melka’s was not the only mining vessel so opportunized. Indeed, the larger operations were more frequent targets. But perhaps those few who had discovered Melka’s routes, these

“pirates” as the captain called them, profited more than the ones who chased other miners.

The old man knew more about dying stars and mining them than Earth’s greatest physicists and astronomers. All that priceless knowledge stored away behind those wild, mad eyes.

“Pirates, yes,” Luis said. “I understand your concern. But…”

“You should be wearing a helmet, DeBeers.” Captain Melka put his own on, pushing his black hair up inside and locking the rim in place. The faceplate up, his eyes still held Luis.

“I misplaced it,” Luis said. “Somewhere. When I was walking through the ship.”

The captain made a gesture, and a spare helmet was brought for Luis.

“Are you certain you wish to join us, DeBeers?”

Luis nodded.

“Out there,
boy
?”

Another nod, more pronounced.

“The heat can be crippling.” There was no trace of concern in the voice. The captain spoke evenly and matter-of-factly. “It has overcome veteran miners before. And you are certainly not a miner.”

“You’ve been paid well. I want to be part of this. All of it.”

A hint of a smile crept across Melka’s face, then it was quickly banished. The faceplate was slapped down. Another gesture, and the dozen miners in the bay moved toward the great doors. They looked to Luis like squat, farcical land-birds in their bulky suits. Luis realized he looked the same, perhaps a little squatter because of his sedentary build.

When the doors opened, the chilling protection of the ship vanished and a wave of profound heat washed inside. Luis found himself gasping and reeling, struggling to stay on his feet as the miners trudged by him and out into space, tethered to the ship by umbilicals. A line had been attached to Luis, too, though he couldn’t remember who’d done it. Couldn’t for an instant remember why he was here. Could only think of the heat, which seemed to have a presence. It was a thing alive, threatening and smothering, a terrifying invisible monster that with each breath Luis took made him tremble. His lungs felt dry, and he couldn’t swallow. Sweat streamed down his face and evaporated, only to be replaced by more sweat. His eyes burned and he blinked, but there were no tears to soothe them.

“Are you sure you’re joining us, DeBeers?” This from Captain Melka, who stood poised by the door.

Luis heard him plainly, despite the suit and the meters that separated them.

“DeBeers?” The voice was coming from inside Luis’ helmet. He nodded and slowly moved forward, each step difficult in the heat.

Then for a heartbeat the discomfort was disregarded, as Luis stood at the door and stared out at NGC7078. The plume had grown to fill space, blindingly breathtaking.

The red-and-pink mist, the blue haze was gone, there being no filter on his faceplate to see the particles. There was only the immense brightness, which was repressed by the visor to prevent the miners from going blind. Luis gaped in utter amazement. The star had seemed so small on the view screen, and now he couldn’t see it all. The miners were silhouetted against it, black drops of ink on white paper. One was motioning for him to move.

He considered retreating into the bowels of the ship. Luis DeBeers did not have to join the miners, could find some small window from which to watch them. It would be safer, the heat not so suffocating. And yet his family had paid well for him to be here, for the captain’s services.

So bright.

He took a step out, expecting to fall as if he’d stepped off the roof of a tall building.

Instead, he floated, away from the ship and into the oven of space. He remembered to use the controls on the suit, steering himself toward the largest figure, Captain Melka. Despite those unnerving eyes, Luis found comfort in being near the big man.

He fumbled with the refrigeration panel, turning the cooling gauges as high as the suit allowed. The meter indicated a change in temperature, but he didn’t notice it. There was only the monstrous heat.

Behind him, the equipment was guided out-by a dozen more miners who had come down into the bay. Fully half of Melka’s crew was out of the ship now, all hovering around equipment that was being unfolded and positioned. It looked like huge, delicate insects, with net wings for collecting particles, cones and cubes that would draw in gases, spindly hollow legs capable of absorbing neutrinos. Few miners had the equipment to contain the latter.

Luis didn’t understand precisely how the equipment worked, knew only that it did work, as evidenced by Captain Melka’s impressive credentials. And he knew that it was more expensive than the ship that hauled it from dying sun to dying sun. The mining gear was able to withstand the heat-stress of a star for short periods, as were the suits. Luis was told he would hear a chime when it was time for him to return to the ship for a “cool down,” which would help preserve the suit and himself.

There was more equipment on the ship that would store the collected elements, computers that would record amounts and purity, gather data on the star’s death throes. Information was also marketable.

Drones were gliding about, aiding the miners in nudging the equipment closer to the sun, black against white, everything looking like hieroglyphics on a wall in front of Luis. He guided his suit closer, still staying out of the miners’ way. That had been part of the agreement he’d made with Melka. Watch, but don’t touch. Ask questions, but not too many. Pay your money up front and treat the captain with respect.

Distance was difficult for Luis to judge, so he pivoted about in search of the ship behind him, not wanting to travel too far from it.

Nothing. Only a solid sheet of black. The ship had vanished.

Fear hammered in Luis’ chest and his breathing became even more ragged. Sweat streamed down his face and into his eyes, as he feverishly felt about on his control panel for the comm switch so he could notify Melka the ship was gone-fleeing from pirates, perhaps. It was gone and they were lost and would die, boiled so near NGC7078, and…

There. An angular grayness started to intrude in the black, and pinpricks of light emerged all around it. Luis swallowed his panic and took a few deep breaths, the calming act seeming to sear the depths of his lungs.

So hot.

He reminded himself that his suit’s cooling capacity was at its maximum, though it didn’t feel like it. Rather, it felt like he was a lobster being cooked alive in a pot of water. A fat, squat lobster who could barely breathe. His chest ached.

The gray took on more features, became the ship he’d feared had vanished. Not lost, he thought after a moment more. A considerable measure of relief filled him.

The light of NGC7078 had been so bright that when he looked away from it and toward the ship he had seen nothing at first. Only the black. Despite the visor it had taken his eyes a few moments to adjust. The ship was coming more into focus now, gunmetal gray against the ebony velvet of space, distant stars sparkling all around it.

Luis forced himself to relax.

The ship looked massive and uninteresting, not at all like the others in port that had the vague and elegant forms of birds and turtles. But those had been passenger ships. Melka’s ship, the
Mire
, was strictly a mining vessel, a series of huge, segmented boxes that gave it the appearance of an ancient Earth freight train. There were eight boxes, essentially cargo bays, all looking the same, no apparent engine or caboose. Only by inspecting it closely could Luis see a narrowing on one end, which he knew was the bridge. Was Reah watching them? Could she tell that he had panicked? He hoped that she instead considered him brave, a groundling with the guts to join the miners on this, his first real trip into deep space. Perhaps she would take a short leave with him after this expedition. She had brushed his leg on the bridge. He could ply her with beautiful, cut diamonds to tempt her. They could get away to someplace cold, someplace with mountains and snow. Would she like that?

Thrusting aside musings of what he’d come to think of as his pale China doll, Luis carefully maneuvered his suit around to face NGC7078 again, floated a few dozen meters closer, and did his best to endure the heat and the bright light as he watched the men hover about the equipment. Luis suspected drones could have managed all the work. But the miners claimed the robots were incapable of understanding the nuances of positioning some of the filter nets and reading if collection was truly functioning at one hundred percent.