Voyage of the Sanguine Shadow 1: Shadow Galactic (2 page)

“In
college, you learn how to learn. Four years is not too much time to spend at
that.” –Mary Oliver

As one of the first
starfaring races, humans were quick to form allegiances with as many
intelligent species as were willing to treat with them, and under their
leadership, the Galactic Union of Allied Worlds was formed.  Earth served as
its throne, and the benevolent alliance welcomed all intelligent races as
full-fledged citizens.  The Expansion Ministry, however, made a practice of
annexing most of the home worlds it deemed primitive, despite frequent protests
and conservancy laws put in place to preserve developing cultures.

Regarding Earth, her constituent governments retained
their sovereignty, while heeding the will of the Galactic Parliament in
interstellar matters.  Thousands of worlds had been terraformed in the names of
dozens of the wealthier nations and mega-corporations, yet most humans flocked
to the Prime Worlds, as did so many other species.  Life in the grand cities was
expensive and often alien by any standard, but getting by on the colony worlds
was harsh, and demanded much in the way of survival

The county of Chemwald sprawled along the eastern
coast of Afskya’s northern supercontinent, home to every species of the Galactic
Union’s many intelligent life forms.  Rich with ore and mineral deposits, much
of Afskya’s surface glittered, even from space.  A Prime World and home planet
to the raptor-like ospyreans, it orbited as the fourth planet in Sycorax
System, named for its medium-large blue dwarf sun.  It served as a vital trade
hub for its sector of the galaxy.

Terran Galactic University at Chemwald was a
sprawling city unto itself, softly and colorfully aglow under a haze of rain. 
Classrooms and parking bays sprouted from soaring spires, blanched petals on
concrete stems, and water cascaded from their edges. Thick steam rolled forth
in huddles from massive circular vents nestled regularly throughout the campus,
defiant in the face of the downpour. A tower of hovering fast food signs
spiraled up through the clouds, directing the slow waltz of sky cars seeking
momentary harbor.

At the campus’s southern edge, a bulky municipal
shuttle slowly lifted off, visible just past the handrails that enclosed a
Metro Planetary shuttle station.  It was long, with a tail fin and guide wings
mounted to structural hull plates.  Painted light gray with parallel red and
orange stripes, with warning lamps and brilliant headlights, the sky bus had a
decidedly sensible appearance.  Portholes lined both side of the hull.

Under a vast awning, stripes and chevrons of dim
red, orange and yellow light guided passengers to ticket kiosks, storage
lockers, and boarding ramps.  Bright blue characters danced across a display
board that listed all departures and arrivals for the next two days, suspended
in front of a curved wall. A young boy passed his hand through the display,
giggled, and his older sister quickly nudged him away.

The ticket kiosk beeped, and Gavin Santiago
claimed his pass; its transparent face glowed faintly green as it registered
his gene key and deducted the appropriate amount of money from his account.  He
absently noted a second shuttle’s flight lights as it too headed for the sky. 
Metro Fleet was always busy this time of night, as the student body packed up
and headed home.

He crossed the grated floor, kept just under the
overhang of a curved wall, and when he had reached its end, hurried to the
shelter of a circular awning.  It had been mounted to an arm that was supposed
to automatically adjust its angle to meet rainfall directly, but it had been
years since this one worked, if it had ever worked at all.  Gavin stood near
one of the platform’s two crowded benches.  Others stood and sat nearby, a mix
of humans and aliens.  Common to them all were backpacks and strings of
earphones that led to as many handheld devices.

Tired after a long day of trying to remember
Galactic History and understand German, he looked forward to the return flight
to his park-and-ride and ultimately his dorm pod.  It would be hours before
another shuttle was bound for his home in New California City, and he didn’t
always make it.  He didn’t need to worry about that, today.

Engines thumped rhythmically off to his left and
he involuntarily glanced toward them, glad to see it was his shuttle on
approach.  The light gray behemoth lumbered close, and rain sizzled in sheets
upon the transport’s plasma aura.  It butted up against an airlock as its
directional thrusters swung down and the plasma sheath faded away.  The light
over the boarding passage turned green.

Gavin smiled, secured his backpack straps, and
shuffled to form a line with the others.  A heavy circular hatch rolled away
from the nose, and a pilot with hawk-like features stared fixedly ahead as his
passengers boarded.  Gingerly, Gavin stepped along the crowded aisle and took a
seat near the back.  He set his pack between his legs, stared out the window
and unzipped his orange jacket to reveal a plain gray T-shirt underneath.  The
transit vessel detached from its clamps and glided up into the atmosphere. 
Warning lights flashed as they passed a soaring tower, and for a moment, Gavin’s
reflection stared back at him from the glass.  His features were square, and a
hint of stubble added some definition to his jaw.

With a weary sigh, he sank back and closed his
eyes.  For one searing moment his abdomen ached, and he traced a scar through
his jeans.  He winced and settled back into his chair.  “That’s quite enough
out of you,” he muttered to himself.

“Excuse me?” said a woman to his right.

Gavin opened his eyes and glanced her way.  “Oh!  Sorry,
I didn’t hear you sit down.”

She smiled demurely and tucked a wisp of platinum
hair behind her ear.  “No apology is required,” she answered.  “Are you well?”

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, I just get these
cramps sometimes.”

“I understand,” she brightly replied and studied
him a moment.  “Your destination is somewhere in New California City.  I have
been so curious to visit.”

“Good call,” Gavin noted, and he straightened
somewhat.  “How’d you know?”

“Thank you for your favorable opinion of me, but
my observational skills are far from extraordinary.”  With a playful wink, she
leaned closer and prodded Gavin’s orange jacket as she added, “The way your
clothes have faded in the wash, and the slight smell of pine are clear
indicators.”  Gavin nodded appreciatively, and she beamed.  “Returning to my
previous assertion, I have always wanted to visit.”

“You should go,” he suggested, “tonight.  I’ll
show you around.”

She smiled all the brighter.  “I suddenly very
much desire to do just that, but sadly, I cannot.”

He regarded her curiously.  “Why not?”

“I have a work party to attend.  We had an
especially lucrative fiscal quarter.”  Her eyes glowed briefly of white as
Gavin was about to invite himself along.  “Oh, I am not human,” she grinned, “I
am byriani.”

“Oh.”  With a dry chuckle, Gavin sank back into
his chair.  “Nice.”

“I have been rehearsing this form for two weeks,”
she continued, “and I am rather proud of myself that you took me for one of
your own.  I did not mean to offend, of course.  I know there are those who are
likely to take offense at species imitation.  Have I offended you?”

“Not at all.  I’m impressed, really.  Usually you
byrianis are pretty easy to spot.  Not you, though.  You got all the details
right.”  He glanced sidelong toward her.  “Of course, you could… actually be a
man.  I have no way of knowing for sure.”

She replied, “I suppose you do not,” and glanced
upward as she considered.  Cheerfully, she placed her hand in Gavin’s grip.  “I
am Elesci,” she announced and squeezed firmly.  “I assure you I am a female of
my species, so do not feel ashamed at the arousal you experienced.”

Gavin cleared his throat and returned the gesture,
as a recorded voice announced the shuttle’s arrival at Risen Hills station.  “I’m
Gavin.”

“Perhaps we will meet again?” she hoped.

“I’m here every day for the next four years,” he
said.

Lingering for a moment more, she withdrew her grip
before making her way to the exit.  Docking clamps rang through the sky bus. 
The hatchway rolled aside, and Elesci was gone.

With a subtle smile, Gavin allowed his thoughts to
wander.  An hour passed before he arrived at his destination.  He thanked the pilot,
prompting the hawkish fellow to tap the sign that clearly read, “Do Not
Converse With The Pilot,” and disembarked behind a few others.  Unhurried, he
found his way through a chain fence-enclosed parking lot to his silver OmniVoy Strive. 
A domed, single-rider commuter car, pronged fenders sprouted from its base and
housed fully positionable wheels.  He passed his wrist over the gene key reader,
and it beeped happily.  The bubble hatch lifted upward as if celebrating his
arrival.

With a bit more cheer, he sat down inside and
firmly gripped the action wheel.  His little car came silently alive.  Recessed
lighting and bright meters gave the only sign the car was ready to move, and he
guided it out onto the streets.

“Second
only to the starship is the car.  It’s freedom for the rest of us.” –Hulkr
Motor Company

In time, Gavin reached his
dormitory pod and eased into the awaiting car dock bay.  The deck descended
belowground, settled next to his truck, and the momentary breeze ruffled the
second vehicle’s beige cover.  His personal garage space was white, smooth and
well-lit.  Tool drawers vanished almost seamlessly into cornerless walls, and
his helper screen presently cycled through scenes of halcyon landscapes. 
Overhead, his portion of the lawn locked back into place.

Gavin exited the small car and took a moment to
run his hand over a covered pickup truck before venturing inside.  An embedded
green strip light brightened as he approached, and the doorway opened quietly. 
He took a moment downstairs to activate the windows, set them to “Starry
Lakefront” and went to the kitchen to prepare a bowl of hot and sweet steak
dumplings.

After giving a few minutes to his homework and catching
up on his recorded television episodes, he turned out the lights and tapped the
feed button on his saltwater tank.  Tiny flakes drifted here and there,
catching the attention of a dozen colorful fish.  His maroon clownfish
flickered however, momentarily frozen in place.  Static lines ran its length
from head to tail, and Gavin shook his head.  “Please don’t crash,” he muttered
to himself and watched with folded arms. 

The clownfish didn’t move.  “Damn it,” he huffed,
and he switched off the tank’s overhead light.  He made his way upstairs, set
down his pack and tossed his jacket over the back of a desk chair.  Without
thinking, he checked his alarm, propped his phone in its case and displayed the
clock.  He stripped to his boxers and socks, and he slid under the sheets.

·· • ··

It was still dark outside when Gavin’s phone
beeped a message alert.  Sleepily, he lifted it from its cradle and listened to
his voicemail.  When it was done, he saved it and found himself smiling
somewhat.  He curled up from his bed and pulled on a heavy shirt, shoved his
arms through one at a time, and hopped clumsily into the same pair of jeans.  His
phone rang, and he answered it.

“That’s funny,” he puffed, and he nodded at the still
frame staring back at him.  “I was just about to call you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Taryn’s stranded at Supernova Express, over in
Van Alder.”  He jammed his feet into his boots.  “She wants a rescue, and I’m
in a driving mood.  Want to come with me?”

A thin yawn, and his friend Takeo answered, “Huh,
she left me a message to the same effect, but she knows I don’t drive.  Why
bother?”

“Because she knew you’d call me.”  He grabbed his
keys and wallet.  “Are you coming?”

Takeo chuckled sleepily.  “I want to, but I
shouldn’t.”

“You absolutely should,” goaded Gavin.  “Come on,
what’s going on tomorrow that you need sleep for?”

Takeo chuckled.  “I need to pack for a job on
Monday.”

“Do your packing on Sunday.”

A lengthy pause followed.

“You still there?”

Takeo sighed audibly, though not as heavily as he
had intended.  “I’ll come.  For old times’ sake.”

“Meet me out front,” and he tapped his phone off. 
Quickly, Gavin grabbed his orange jacket, slid the phone into a sleeve pocket,
and pressed a glowing pad near the stairs.  He hurried for the front door.  It
slid aside with a whisper and closed behind him.  Quickly, he passed his gene key
over a reader pad, and the front door chirped brightly as the car dock elevated
his covered pickup truck to ground level.

Gavin was a philosophy
major and a member of Many Earths, the university’s outdoor adventure club.  He
loved rock climbing much more than studying, and his grades were starting to
show some wear for it.  He stood average height, sported a crop of finger-styled
dishwater blonde hair, and his eyes were coffee brown.

He blew into his hands, rubbed them together and
glanced down the street.  “There you are,” he muttered to himself.  He watched
Takeo slip in and out of visibility as he rode his bicycle under the street
lamps bobbing in place over the sidewalk.  Dressed in a black suit and long
coat, Takeo looked as sharply dressed as ever.  He drew close, drifted to a
stop, and dismounted.  Gavin smiled slightly.  “Still rocking the bike, huh?  I
like it.  Totally old school.”

Takeo lifted a brow.  “Stop that.”

Gavin pointed toward the bicycle.  “Want to put it
inside?”

“No need,” answered Takeo, and his bicycle
vanished in a puff of swirling, fading fog.

Gavin recoiled.  “What?”

Takeo hunched his shoulders as he looked sidelong
at his friend.  “Fogg… ate it,” he answered, and he laughed dryly.  “Completely
by accident, of course, so he offered to
be
my bike until he can replace
it.”

The first thing most
people noticed about Takeo Sato was how absurdly tall he was. Graceful despite
his height, he was lean, had black hair, and his eyes were dark as coal.  His
father, Hohiro, was a distinguished
kobun
of the Yakuza’s Yubitsume
Syndicate, and Takeo was being groomed to take his place in the family
business.

Peering toward where he had seen the haze
dissipate, Gavin said, “Hey, Fogg.  You can come too, if you like.  I’m sure
Taryn would be happy to see you.”

The metallic mist coalesced into a small, spinning
saucer-style craft with a bank of bright lights that flashed in sequence. A
tiny orb dropped out and displayed the words, “Yes please.”

“You ready?”

“Oh yeah,” said Takeo, and they approached Gavin’s
pickup.  Takeo’s long coat fluttered in the breeze.

Gavin cast off the beige cover, folded it neatly, and
packed it away.  Aggressively large and matte black, his Hulkr Rhino had tall,
square wheel wells and a sleek cabin accessible from two massive doors that
slid forward on recessed rails.  A glossy sheet of curved glass formed the
windshield, connected seamlessly with the side windows.  Extending back from
the top of the cabin roof, a thick, sharply angled steel loop hovered over a
reinforced cargo bed and its nested toolbox.  From door handles, hood latches
and wheel wells, pinpoint lights cast gentle cones upon the vehicle’s dark
surface.  Mounted to the grill, soft blue light seeped from the Hulkr logo.

With a touch of Gavin’s key, the doors disengaged
and slid forward on their moorings.  He, Fogg and Takeo entered, and the truck throatily
growled to life a moment later.  Gavin jammed the accelerator, and the car dock
folded back into place as the Rhino sped away.  They raced along the streets,
out onto the highway that led away from the New California City Student Housing
complex, that led to the wonders of the grand city of Van Alder.

Gavin had been born on Earth, but his family had
moved to Afskya when he was very young.  He thought of himself as an Afskyan,
and cared little for the struggles his home planet faced.  Takeo had been born
on Afskya, and the two had been best friends since they were in grade school.  Fogg
was a self-aware nanobot collective, a cloud of microscopic robots that shared
a collective intellect—one that was quite adept at taking a variety of forms. 
Fogg was rather aged by digital norms, at nine Union Standard years, when he
had adopted Takeo.  Takeo had no say in the matter, but was honored to have
been chosen.

The three of them were practically alone on the
highway.  Opening his window a crack, Gavin felt the cold air ruffle his hair. 
He turned on the heater, and Takeo pulled his coat tighter about him.  Fogg
settled down upon the back bench and switched off.  Normally, it was a
forty-minute drive to Van Alder from Gavin’s home, but he planned to make it in
twenty.  Sparse evergreens zipped by on either side, slowly giving way to the
planet’s native blue and purple spore cluster trees.