The StarMaster's Son Read online

  Finally, he abandoned the second planet. On his next attempt, he tried the third planet. Space debris killed them after eight minutes. He corrected his course the next time. All seemed to be going well. Half an hour into the voyage, the XO said, "Captain, one of the Kawaii has got a beam saber."

  "What?"

  "She appears to be suffering a mental breakdown. She's slaughtering everyone on board."

  "I'll go in there and stop them. Keep us going."

  "It's too late. They're all dead. The last one committed seppuku."

  "Fuck," Felik cursed as the sim restarted. That time he'd seemingly done everything right and the situation still went to shit. Frustration overcame him, and, the next round, he kicked up the sand of the command sphere's zen garden surface.

  "Just give me a second," he told his XO. This seemed to only be an exercise in futility.

  "Captain, if we wait the Kawai will—"

  "I know!" He bit his lip. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that."

  He spent a minute analyzing the system this sim followed. This ritual was an ongoing labyrinth of possibilities, each wrought with a risk that always seemed to come true. Every decision led to more choices and on and on. Every decision carried a risk. Any one screw up equaled complete failure, so this was an all-or-none game.

  As the enemy Kawai blew up their craft, he added one more factor. Doing nothing automatically ended the sim. In other words, certain decisions guaranteed failure.

  He was beginning to resent the cute little critters in his cargo hold. At this rate there was a chance he might eventually find the proper combination of factors for success only to lose his cool and murder them himself.

  he messaged the Guardian Templar.

 

  The solution existed. Only it existed in an extremely specific set of circumstances. He tried again. It took him thirty-nine attempts and almost eight hours to cross off a total of five planets from the list. The sim time was the same as real time. His mind was exhausted. Soon he would need to enter sleep mode or he'd go crazy.

  The sim started again. This time he collapsed to his knees and slammed his fists into the white sand and gravel of the command sphere. His XO repeated the same details it had many times already.

  "I need a break," Felik said.

  At that, the sim paused and a creature resembling a gnarled tree stump that culminated in a blood-red mushroom-like appendage materialized out of the zen garden. The creature lacked eyes, but little twigs and polyps across its body curled and writhed as if they had a mind of their own.

  "If you want to be the Envoy, you must focus on overcoming these obstacles." The Guardian Templar didn't speak through any mouth, yet it sounded like it was directly beside his ear.

  Felik had taken enough punishment. "And what if I don't actually want to?"

  "Are you expecting me to tell you that makes you even more noble and deserving of this role? I know your thoughts, your desires. Deep down, you seek prestige and prominence. There may be a chance to obtain these things as Envoy." But what about as the Chief Philosopher?

  "You're assuming a lot about me."

  "Tell me I'm wrong."

  "You're wrong."

  "Tell me that I'm wrong and mean it."

  Felik couldn't do that, so he resumed the sim. Six more failed attempts and the sim ended entirely.

  A bizarre reality took over. He found himself standing on a silver platform across from the Guardian Templar. Bursts of kaleidoscopic geometric patterns etched across a scene of clouds and haze, transforming and shifting every second. It both mystified and disturbed him.

  "A nice construct," he said, trying to grasp it.

  "You humans think everything that isn't real is either a sim or a construct. How shocked you would be to learn other realms exist, other forms of existence beyond your archival knowledge."

  "Is this the part where you grant me that knowledge?"

  "No. New Terran minds can hardly use the knowledge at their fingertips in an optimal way. More would simply be wasted."

  "Did I pass the test or fail it?"

  "Among other things, this ritual was meant to emphasize subtlety. You did not pass or fail. New Terran minds evolved in a way such that sorting things into basic categories was easy. But reality is far more complex. Current circumstances make your understanding of that nuance more important than ever. Much of the universe stands at a fork in the decision-making tree. Oberon or Megas. Such a dichotomy is a threat. It cannot be allowed to determine the future of the cosmos. It's up to you to choose the path to take and whatever subtle truths are inherent in it."

  Felik swallowed hard. "What are you asking me to do?"

  "Official investigations are only as effective as they are secure from external interference. Unfortunately, the official investigations are at the mercy of the Union Omega's enemies. You will search out the truth of why StarMaster Arteyos Ullon died. Succeed and you will never be in debt again. Your neural virus will be cured. And you will be granted the position of Chief Philosopher. Fail and you will witness an interstellar bleeding."

  Chapter 11

  KAI

  They were still on Burkos. That's what was important. The fact that Dr. Lupin had betrayed Kai was a critical setback. The Mistmen farming out Sarvill and Raksamat's cores was not a particularly urgent problem.

  "Again, I can't read your mind, so I'd really appreciate some verbalization here. How did you get your neural virus?" said Vespel, nestled within an elaborate chair apparatus that served as her work console and life support system.

  A yellow mist stirred around them, too thick to see through past a few feet. Kai felt like she was in the eye of a tornado. Except that there was no sensation of wind because Vespel's effectively transparent living capsule isolated them from the psionic Mistmen.

  The Mistmen were neither friend nor foe. They simply required cores to synthesize special crystals out of current structures they'd recently gained control over. They did this by physically re-crafting the current structures. That required manually overriding their programming, so the utility fog would reshape into the mist beings' desired form. More cores meant a greater heap–the processing power available for them–and quicker processing of that manual overriding.

  Vespel was simply a New Terran businesswoman who exploited the legal loopholes that plagued Burkos. Kai assumed she also dipped her toes in interstellar smuggling, core harvesting, private mental repositories, and cosmic combat arenas.

  "As soon as I tell you, you're going to put me into quarantine. Am I right?"

  "Can you give me a reason not to?"

  Fleeting seconds existed for her to talk her way out of this. Because once she was placed into quarantine stasis she had zero chance of breaking free. There was no other choice.

  "Do you know who I really am?" she asked quietly, glancing at the mist. Every few seconds threads of dark yellow gas formed circular symbols.

  "It's how they communicate," Vespel said. "Look, I know who that doctor thinks you are. Do I believe you are that sapient? No, I don't."

  "I can prove it."

  "Of course. Show me your ID."

  "It's not my ID. But if you let me message someone—"

  "Message someone? You're under quarantine." Kai tilted her head in annoyance. Vespel knew what she meant, of course. "Fine. Let's say I message your network for you. Will they respond or just think I'm one of the hundreds of fake messages they receive?"

  Her mind raced to figure out how to prove her worth. That's when it hit her. Racing. "Let me show you in a race. Look up my bio on the InfiNet. You'll see that Kai Pundoo is also a champion sim racer."

  "I can confirm that, but what part of quarantined don't you understand? You couldn't play a sim if you wanted to." Not unless they were already loaded on her nexus.

  She doubted she could convince the woman with meaningless conjecture. If only she still had her perfect body frame and no
t a fucking robot bod, she could try to seduce her. Out here on the Styx of the universe, this woman couldn't have met that many New Terrans who could both afford top notch beauty configurations for their living frames and had the wit to properly use them.

  What she probably did have was a protocol that would have already told whether it was wise to even consider trusting Kai. But if she offered new information, her protocol would factor that in.

  "The other two who came with me are significant sapients. One of them is a Starbleeder inquisitor who's formed a truce with me. The other is a minor war hero from the Great Cosmic Wars. The question is why were they with me?"

  Vespel gestured for her to answer. Kai took a long breath. "We're big game hunters."

  "Big game hunters?" Vespel arched an eyebrow.

  It wasn't entirely a lie. Raksamat wasn't on her side exactly. But he was part of her team, whether he wanted to be or not. "Yes, we've got a target somewhere on this planet. If we were successful, the rewards would be bountiful, to put it mildly."

  "Is this your way of asking me to invest in your venture?"

  "It would make you more money than renting out my allies' cores."

  Vespel shrugged. "Maybe in the short run..."

  Kai held up a knowing finger that stopped her in her tracks. "You're not going to have us around very long either way. I met the guy who sold us to you. It was enough to tell me who he is. He's most likely going to double his profits and sell information on our whereabouts to the Starbleeders. When they find out you have us, do you think they'll want to pay twice? No, they'll force you to give us to them. Unless we're already gone."

  "So you're saying you're a liability? Usually liabilities should be eliminated as quickly as possible."

  "Usually. Not when they can provide a return on investment."

  "I imagine the Starbleeders would be very thorough in their investigation were I to 'lose you.' Wouldn't they check my logs and see that I'd put money into helping you and your friends escape—I mean leave."

  Kai couldn't deny that.

  "Every business is a risk."

  Finally, Vespel put up her hands in mock innocence. "I won't invest in you directly but were you to win enough game sims and acquire it yourself...I don't think the Starbleeders could fault me for having lackluster security measures."

  "How do you expect me to win the prize money from these games if I can't even play them?"

  "Funny, I've heard a little of the Hellion network and their long-lost heiress. I doubt the real Kai would be so easily deterred."

  She wanted to smack her. But she had a point.

  "Of course, I will ask one small additional favor from you," Vespel said.

  "There's always a catch," Kai sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

  "I've heard other things about your openness to new experiences...and I've also heard that cyborg tongues are especially soft." Five minutes later, Vespel's console had converted into an exceedingly comfortable couch. She was splayed out on her back, naked, moaning in pleasure. There were some things that Kai didn't need a module for. Giving oral was one of them.

  Gaming was not.

  Over the centuries, Terran scientists and psychologists had studied the homo sapien brain enough to learn the different aspects that led to victories in various competitive ventures. Everything from experience to chemical levels to timing.

  In the past, Kai had downloaded many top tier gaming skill mods that optimized these types of competitive factors. Her current nexus didn’t have access to those even though they had altered her core in some long-lasting ways.

  If she had her old godweb, she wouldn't hesitate to search out a hacker who might sneak her into the competition. But this living sphere's legal system meant she could very well get hacked herself if she wasn't careful in who she negotiated with.

  Many sapients believed inquisitors were all badasses who could handle any odds. It was the opposite. Inquisitors were careful, methodical, and chose their targets carefully to maximize their chances of success.

  Raksamat or Sarvill could still accrue bits, but not nearly as fast.

  Kai accepted the setback and got the two up to speed once the Mistmen freed them to enter Vespel's capsule.

  Then she spent twenty minutes going over basic strategies and techniques, amateur mistakes to avoid, and explaining what was at stake. Sarvill accepted it all readily. As a veteran of the Great Cosmic Wars, he relished the challenge.

  Raksamat thought to her.

  "Guess the Starbleeders truly are weak," Kai said.

 

  Too weak to take her bait. She might have to pretend to compromise. Choosing her words carefully, she said, "There can be a positive outcome for you. I have bigger Telchine to fry. If you help me, you would be able to reap some of the rewards."

  The Clorondite gave her a long look. "Maybe I'll try one of these sims. At least it'll be entertaining."

  The two of them spent the next seven hours engaged in various racing and combat game sims. Kai knew enough tips and strategies to give them an edge. While concepts of games varied widely among species—many species didn't even understand the concept of gaming—various systems organized players among those with a compatible psychological makeup, meaning they were matched with competition in game structures they could understand. Cultural gaps were bridged with temporary mods.

  Raksamat and Sarvill didn't need to physically go anywhere to play their games. They just connected to the InfiNet via their nexuses—using a hand terminal from Vespel, Kai configured the former's nexus to allow this.

  Via utility fog, the Terran businesswoman also brought up a small holodisplay for Kai. Her living capsule wasn't large, but there was enough space for the four of them.

  Raksamat controlled a worm-like creature as it dug through underground tunnels. He could set traps, sneak up on other worms, evolve, spew acidic liquid, and consume eggs from his opponents. The goal was simply to eliminate all other worms, including their eggs. Raksamat didn't win the first round, but he got second place, which earned him a slightly stronger than usual worm in the next match.

  Kai found herself cheering inwardly with every worm he evaded. And tensing whenever another worm looked to be sneaking up on him.

  She clenched a fist as Raksamat's worm entered a short tunnel and hit a dead end. It couldn't burrow through the metal walls. Above, another worm noticed and spewed acid in through a tiny crevice. The yellow liquid flowed through, sprinkling over Raksamat's worm. But it launched back out of the canister before the acid could chew through its hide. Wriggling away, the opponent's worm gave chase. Raksamat doubled back with perfect timing and ripped through the mouth and head of his opponent. He won that round.

  "Not bad," Kai murmured under her breath.

  She couldn't deny her feeling of gratitude at Raksamat. Oddly, a sense of camaraderie with him was forming in her. It disgusted her like a disease. Without her inquisitor mods, her emotions were threatening to betray her. She was on the verge of making her offer to Raksamat a reality.

  A message from Vespel disrupted that idea.

  Chapter 12

  FELIK

  Felik's investigation was off to a great start. He was not allowed to speak with the two Saganerio starkeepers due to official investigations. His request to visit the Wraiths again was denied by the Imperial Infantry, who were now monitoring them. And he'd already parsed all the analysis of the conversation sim between the StarMaster and Chief Navigator Xerix.

  So the obvious starting points were not feasible. Yet he'd accepted the task. There was no turning back.

  Plus, his karma had recovered as evidenced by the women who'd congratulated him on his promotion at Al
derson disk #396727-S. Several innuendos involving the word "envoy" and female genitalia were thrown around.

  Succeed and you will never be in debt again. Your neural virus will be cured. And you will be granted the position of Chief Philosopher. Fail and you will witness an interstellar bleeding.

  His options didn't sound very non-binary, but who was Felik to argue with the Guardian Templar?

  What he'd learned after that unsettled him far worse, however.

  I'll accept, but I have to know first. Did someone set up that MARINE to assassinate me at their base?

  The MARINE attacked you because he was crazy. But someone planned for the lockdown drill to occur at a time that was very dangerous for you.

  Felik tried to persuade the Guardian Templar to reveal who had sent him to die, but it didn't know. Instead it had suggested he start his investigation at the Karma Nebula.

  From a distance and the right angle, the collection of thousands and thousands of karma pylons, space stations, platforms, colonies, ships, orbital rings, and other artificial celestial bodies resembled an insignificant black and white nebula. Up close, the pylons themselves were massive block-like monolithic structures, some spanning a hundred feet, others hundreds of miles. Each rich with countless flows of little dancing colors that oozed in abstract patterns along their surfaces.

  As Envoy, he now received a karma bit stipend to use toward travel and other basic costs. He used that to request this warp jump to the Karma Nebula and then asked permission into the research station.

  Like most New Terran research stations in the Karma Nebula, Nalcom #84914-Encapsula had been constructed as the Great Cosmic Wars were ending. Building supplies had been running short then. As a result, it lacked any of the aesthetic accomplishments newer stations or cities sported. Some silver structures attached to a few spinning rings and disks by long bridges. It could've been built four centuries before and not looked out of place.