My Father’s Fishing Rod

Well, I’d have to cover the signature with brown painter’s tape. You see, my dad had a customized fly fishing rod, and the manufacturer kindly placed my father’s handwritten signature on the side. Do they even make brown painter’s tape? I know there are blue and funky green colors, but I’ve never seen brown at Lowes. Maybe if they make brown painters tape then time travel would be possible?

Why would I go through all that effort? I have the rod. My father has been dead for over thirty years now. But, I read in one of those blogs, (Popular Science, IFL Science, one of those) that time travel IS theoretically possible. And I may have already done it.

Theoretical science is a bit Meh about three types because it is likely you could, by traveling back in time, create an alternate dimension. You exist in the alternate dimension allowing you to interact with the past but you cannot change it in any significant way. In this instance, the parallel dimension would allow me to move a salt shaker sitting on the dining room table in my parent’s house, but I would not be altering the future because the salt shaker is inanimate. I could, theoretically, hold a conversation with one or both of my parents, but because their timeline is fixed and I am in a parallel timeline, I can’t alter their timeline but I can interact.

Let me explain. The theoretical physicist said we had three concepts of time travel. One involves the paradox, wherein you travel back in time via negative proton displacement. (Uh, okay, let’s leave out the practicalities for now) You change something in history, such as killing Hitler (Let’s Kill Hitler, Dr. Who episode), and thus change the course of human history and possibly prevent your own birth. Or, you travel back in time, but everything is fixed where you bear witness to events but are powerless to do anything other than watch. Meeting yourself might not cause the ultimate paradox and your head does not automatically explode.

So, I can’t go back in time and suggest to my father that he should invest heavily in Apple or that the Cubs finally won a World Series in 2016. But, if I knew the exact date, time, and location, I could go chat with him about absolutely nothing. And yes, I would pay money for the opportunity to talk to my Dad.

What if? What if I’d somehow managed it? What if that feeling of deja vu is nothing more than our future selves returning to the past to talk to ourselves. My father once told me he’d had a strong feeling of deja vu the first time he walked into the gymnasium at his high school in Michigan. He could not explain how he knew the place, only that he did. The gym turned out to be a significant location for my father. His gym teacher was an asshole, who informed my dad that he and his cousin, Richard, were trash and that they’d always be trash good for nothing jailbirds. This teacher pissed my dad off to the point that when he graduated with his medical degree, he wanted to go find that teacher and show him the diploma. But, you see how this gym became a place that ultimately changed the course of my father’s life?

What if he was able to go back in time as an adult and somehow reassure himself? This might explain the deja vu if he had a perfectly innocuous conversation with an adult that felt strangely familiar.

When I search my memories of my childhood, I remember a feeling of familiarity too. When I was roughly 10 or 11 years old, we spent two weeks every summer for about four years in Red River, New Mexico. So, I was approximately 13 the last time we went up there. We spent those two weeks in a cabin owned by another doctor friend of my dad’s. It was a nice cabin, built for skiing vacations in the winter. But, the house was vacant in the summer, and I guess the friend was concerned about squatters, so we were charged with making it look inhabited. My dad wanted to fish, and the river, (which honestly isn’t much more than a largish stream) was stocked with rainbow trout.

It had to be 1979 because I remember listening to Cheap Trick’s Dream Police album over and over. Anyway, the cabin had no television and only a party-line phone for emergencies. So, my options were to read or go fishing with my dad. I had pictures of us, dressed in waders and carrying creels full of trout. I remember I wore a red, white, and blue striped short sleeve sweater, and my hair was cut like Dorothy Hamill’s. On me, it looked like a mushroom cap, with goofy bangs. Anyway, I remember, vaguely, a couple that joined us down at the low water bridge over the stream. They stick out in my memory because they really didn’t seem like fishing people. She had poofy blonde hair, was fat, and carried a fly fishing rod. Her husband seemed older, balder, and walked with a cane. She huffed and puffed along like she’d been running and her husband trailed along behind her, seemingly bemused by something. Strangely, I don’t remember much more about them, except that they were extremely chatty. Well, she was anyway. She spoke to my father for a bit about fishing and that she’d not been fly fishing since she was a girl. I remember she seemed to not know how to cast out either.

I didn’t pay her much attention, and she was more interested in taking pointers from my dad. Because it was innocuous, and a bit inane conversation, I tuned it out and went back to daydreaming. My dad pulled me away, wished them luck, and we tromped into the woods downstream. He said to me, out of earshot, “They’re just churning up the water. They’ve scared off all the fish.”

I remember seeing them upstream of us through a clearing and thought they might be following us. I think my father must have thought so too because we soon left the stream, walked down the road, and headed for the meadow. We caught a lot of fish that day which made my dad happy. I got the impression we were in bizarre competition with the other fishermen to catch the most.

I remember seeing the woman again at another low water bridge as we left for the day. Around four o’clock the heavens would open up and a deluge of rain would fall. It did this every day, and you could practically set your watch by it. I think she yelled at my dad and asked him if he caught anything. He held up his creel and said it was full. She gave us a wave and that was the last I saw of her. I know we hiked back to the cabin at a fast clip and I thought at the time it was to beat the rain, but on further consideration, maybe my dad did not want them to follow us.

I don’t know why he was unnerved by them, but I think he was. Now, I suppose this could be a creepy encounter with a couple who seemed out of place in the woods. Maybe I remember it because it was kind of odd. Maybe I forgot most of the exchange because I was just a kid who lived in the clouds most of the time. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe my child self was not that unnerved because I was brutally naive.

Or maybe some part of me recognized my future self. Maybe she introduced herself as a cousin? I don’t remember but the coincidence would be in and of itself unusual. Maybe my father recognized the fishing rod in her hands. He had yet to commission it, but I could see where he would admire the design. Maybe he noticed the reel and recognized it as his own. I thought they were nice people who really had no idea what they were doing. But, something about them spooked my dad.

I look in the mirror and I see an overweight woman with blonde hair and I wonder. I haven’t yet visited a thrift store to find ill-fitting late 70’s era clothing. I don’t know how to generate negative protons or know how to operate a time travel device. Perhaps that is in my future, where I can return to that point in time, huff and puff my way across the low water bridge, past my soon-to-be teenaged self, to talk to my dad about everything and nothing.

The hardest part will be to not break down in tears. I know I can’t do what I’d want to do, which would be to throw my arms around him and say “Daddy, Daddy, it’s me! I’m here and I love you dearly.” No, the hardest part will be to make an innocuous conversation while I know I am somehow making him uncomfortable. It will be terribly hard not to run after him and my child self, as they scoot off into the woods. My memory of that path to the other low water bridge is extremely vague and I would probably get lost.

The hardest part will be to let them go knowing what I know. But, that is the problem of parallel universe time travel. I wish I could tell myself to cherish this time with my father, that time is always shorter than you think. But, I already know I didn’t and couldn’t anyway. All I could do is stand on the riverbank, with his rod in my hand, with the name covered up with painter’s tape, and talk about the weather, if the fish were biting, and the prospect of rain.

Pertumit Garundi 14

I almost felt the sensation of Winter’s seething anger as she stalked across the landing bay.  I practically had to run to keep up with her.  The Fred made use of the interior of the Siren alongside the fighters, stingerships, and drones.  While it was certainly convenient to be inside the larger ship, I always worry about attacks that disable the launch capability of any ship. I don’t like being stuck inside, I guess.  If we were still on the umbilical, it would be nothing for us to detach, fly over, attach ourselves to Sausenty-Une, and beat the chucksa out of her captain.  I assume we’d go through ship protocol to launch from inside and then there would be questions. 

I thought perhaps we’d use a more subtle approach. Darryl wasn’t one for subtlety and frankly, although I’d been a crewmember with Winter for a while, I wasn’t sure what she’d do.  She stomped up the ramp to the Fred and headed for the bridge.  She flung herself into her seat in front of the navigation array and sat there staring off into space.  I sat down at my station and waited.

“Do you know why the Ebroni moved from Ebrak Seran and into the Ebrak Tlelat section of space?” Winter’s question caught me by surprise.  I shook my head.

“I have no idea.” I thought her question odd, but I tried not to show it.

“When they were known as T’altachurians they refused to come to the aid of Hashtaal.  We had been trading with them far longer than the Bildarthians so their reluctance was bewildering to the leaders of my world.  They’d been fed lies about my people and believed them without ever checking to see if the stories they’d been told were true.” She tapped her fingers on the wrist guards on the sides of her couch.  I wondered what this had to do with our current situation.

I waited for her to continue.  She stared at the wall panel so long I thought she’d gone to sleep with her eyes open.

Finally, she spoke again. “The irony is the T’altachuri left their section of space and rebranded themselves as Ebroni because trade fell off dramatically after the war.  There aren’t many races capable of spaceflight in Ebrak Seran.  It’s an old sector of space and civilizations born thousands of cerens before the Hashtaal collapsed long before the Hashtaaleen war.  When the Bildarthians defeated us, they also packed up and left Ebrak Seran, leaving T’altachuri to fend for itself.”  She turned her couch to face mine. “A corpient can hide its barb, but the barb is still there, and it will use the barb because it has to eat.  A T’altachuri is still susceptible to suggestion and gossip even if they call themselves something else. The fundamental nature of the people has not changed even though they moved.  They can make noise about paying reparations to the governments of Finral’s and Darbulatan all they want.  But” Winter’s intent expression became fierce, “They still believed and spread stories about Hashtaaleen monsters who will eat children. They do so, to this day.”

I sat there in thought.  “So, we make the Ebroni woman believe something heinous about her friend Valoise, is that what you think?”

Winter pursed her lips and shook her head.  “Not something awful.  Killing innocents and blowing up the houses of parliament create a positive reputation among this crew.  No, we need her to believe he’s done something nice.” Winter’s smile was unpleasant to behold.

“Anno…how do we do that, exactly?” I idly pushed the button activating the front screen showing the port cameras.  The bay darkened with the beginning of the alterday shift. 

“Well, one of the advantages of being in one of the bays…we are closer to the Siren’s mainframe.”  Winter’s smile chilled me to the bone.

“There’s something I should tell you.” I blurted. I hadn’t intended to tell her about the Ni’chine but… “They were headhunters…the Ni’chine I mean.  They had three Hashtaal and one of my people.”

She studied me for a nano.  “They were stupid chuksa.” She said, flatly.

Yes, I thought, yes, they were.

~~~

If L’Marchonase thought Fred circumnavigating his central computer’s mainframe security just to serenade Winter was extraordinary and troublesome, he was about to discover a whole new level of security breaches. Winter and I took off the panels in the floor of the bridge of the Fred, where his main “brain” was located.  From there, Winter set about conversing with Fred and (I presume) changing subroutines so he could sneak his way into the personnel files of the Siren.

“Since this is a pirate ship, would they have files on their crews?”  I held a simbronex spanner in one hand, and a brace conduit in the other.  Winter and I crammed ourselves into the small space made for maintenance on the ship’s computer systems.

“Enri strikes me as someone who keeps meticulous notes.  I would not be surprised if he’s kept a record of all the ship captains in his fleet along with their strengths and weaknesses.  He didn’t become Grand Captain of this lot without having information on them and how to blackmail them if it came to that.  Enri may come off as affable and effusive, but he’s definitely related to Emerson Boudreaux.  He also has Emerson’s sense of humor.”  Winter twisted her mouth into an almost smile.

She waved her hand at me and I handed her the spanner.  “So, we’re essentially breaking into his files. He may not like you much after this.”

She made a rude noise with her mouth. “I’m doing him a favor. He can like me or dislike me all he wants.”

I shrugged. “Alright then, but I’m sure breaking into someone’s private diary is a sure-fire way to anger them.”

“I also want to know if Diargento writes information down.  Probably not, but it is worth a look.” Winter pulled another interior panel off and tinkered with the inside.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t?” She handed the spanner back to me and took the conduit.

“He doesn’t need to.  He remembers every bit of information he’s learned about the people he’s met, including you and I.”

I chewed on my lip and contemplated the unsettling thought of Diargento knowing anything about me at all.

“Eh, chances are he knows me by reputation, but not much about you. I doubt he knows you aren’t human.” Winter finished and screwed the panel back on.

“You figured it out.” I followed her up the ladder out of the maintenance bay

“I worked it out a long time ago. Your reflexes are too fast for a human, and you have far better accuracy with those knives than a human would.  You use glamor to cover up the parts of you which you don’t physically disguise like your eye color or the tips of  your ears.”  She shrugged, walked over to her acceleration couch, and sat down. “Your eyesight is excellent without the circular frames you wear. At first, I thought it was an affectation, but it is part of your disguise, isn’t it?”

I hauled myself out of the shaft and stood.  “Did Darryl know?”

Winter shook her head. “If she did, she didn’t care.  I didn’t tell her. I will say, Your Highness, the bounty wrapper on you has decreased considerably in recent cerens.  Did your Father finally get the message?”

Inwardly I winced. Winter could be wicked with her verbal barbs when she wanted to be.  So, I brushed it off and pretended I didn’t care. “Thanks for not turning me in or letting Darryl know.  She would have turned me in, and yes, I think he finally got the idea.”

Winter shrugged. “She might have, she might not.  Like me, she appreciates honesty.”

I sighed. “For a moment, imagine you are me.  You run away from the royal house on Altamira because you believe your father has made a terrible mistake, one you want no part of.  You spend the next three cerens running from his agents who are trying to track you down.  You end up with a bounty on your head from your beloved father, who apparently hasn’t realized the bounty he set can mean alive or dead.  Do you think at some point in all of this, you might develop problems trusting people?” I walked over and sat on my acceleration couch.

“Fair point, but you’ve been on this ship for ten cerens now.  At what point were you going to tell me?”  Winter wasn’t looking at me. She was doing something with Fred’s matrix and lines of code filled the screens in front of her.

“If I thought Darryl would hand me off for the bounty, Merriloo would have dissected me for her own amusement.” I pulled up the com display to the Siren on my screens just to have something to do.

Winter nodded her head. “Merriloo is the reason I don’t let anyone examine me.  I don’t need some half-chuksa xenobiologists deciding they need a Hashtaaleen sample for their collection. So, what you say makes sense. We’re going to need one of their com cables and run it through Fred’s mainframe.”

I nodded. “How are we going to do that and make it look inconspicuous? We’re on the other side of the hanger from the com array.”

She tapped her fingers on the armrest of her couch.  “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.  I’m going to remove the exhaust plates on the underside of the ship and connect them to the vents on the floor of the bay.  While I am doing that, I am also going to remove the maintenance hatch located directly under the right aileron.  I need you to climb down into the hatch, go around the vents, and crawl all the way across to the com panels on the opposite wall near the array.  From there, I need you to either patch us in or snake a line all the way back to the ship so we can connect up. I would do it, but I am too tall and distinctive-looking. You, however, can use your glamor to hide if necessary.”

I sighed. I always got the job of crawling through the body of a ship.  My height was a distinct advantage in wiggling into small places.  I just hated doing it.  To disguise my discomfort I said, “Out of curiosity, how do you know there is a hatch under the wing? 

Winter shook her head. “Enri has modified the Siren to his liking, but this ship is Emerson’s old flagship. I thought I recognized it when we came aboard the first time.  He’s gutted most of it, but this landing bay is essentially the same as it was three hundred cerens ago.” Her expression became wistful then resolute. “We’d best get to it.”

I was halfway down the gangplank before I remembered to ask. “Winter, how did you keep Merriloo from vivisecting you?”

Winter, who was ahead, turned around to face me. “She got an up-close and personal display of what of these do.” She opened her mouth and pointed to her canine teeth. “It made her think twice.”  Winter smiled, then turned around and marched down the gangway to the floor of the landing bay.

~~~

It never ceases to amaze me how a ship can prepare for every kind of technological attack possible but forget about simple string and sealant putty approaches.  I put in a cable patch to their com network by snaking a line through the electrical maintenance conduit.  I disguised the line by pushing it into the gaps between the interlock of deck plates.  The com panel itself was placed in an oddly shaped alcove which clearly hadn’t seen much use.  Winter explained to me that back when Emerson owned this ship, each fighter was connected to an external com panel until needed for action.  It was set up so the mainframe of the Siren could talk to each fighter’s onboard computers individually.  The alcove was constructed for a prototype fighter who never saw action. 

I asked her if she knew where the prototype was and she shrugged her shoulders. “This ship has seen a lot of owners since Emerson stole her.  It’s probably space dust by now.”

I poured myself a cafco and watched her as she directed Fred into the mainframe of the Siren. I asked her where she’d learned to break into computers, and she shook her head. 

“I didn’t.  Darryl was an oldtimer codehexer and she programmed Fred with the basics.  Fred’s sentience allows him to make real-time patches, covers, and splices.  I only give him general directives such as desired outcomes.  He does the rest.”

“I enjoy a challenge, Ellora” Fred chimed in. 

“See if you can find Enri’s notes on his personnel.  He might have a personal encryption on it.”  Winter cracked open a stericase of rations and tore the wrapper off a protein bar with her teeth.  To me, she said, “You might want to read a book or something.  This might take a while.”

I watched for a while but eventually took my book tab and reader to my quarters.  I checked the bridge with the remote interior camera before I went to bed and Fred was still working.  Winter appeared to be in one of her trances.  She was staring at the bulkhead wall, and I could see her lips moving slightly.  She had a glassy-eyed stare, and her hands and arms were moving like she was directing something I couldn’t see.  We were still anchored to our landing pad and Fred couldn’t take off without alarms sounding so I left her to her silent ballet and went to sleep.

At the beginning of alterday the next day we finally had a breakthrough.  Fred found the pages on Valoise and the Ebroni woman whose name was Eteria.  Winter studied each of them intently.  “Find anything?” I sat my cup of cafco down on the table across from the central information terminal and regarded her.

“They both have gambling addictions and like to spend their off-duty time either drinking on Taverna or on Kell Station. He’s had an affinity for Morpheus, one of those designer drugs the Hidese market as a sleep aid, but it’s used to combat stim use and too much can cause an addiction unto itself.  She likes her designer clothing and has spent most of her credits with the Paloma Group.”

I sipped my drink and thought. “I suppose we could start a rumor that he’s giving money to the poor while he’s asleep so he doesn’t remember it…and she’s giving her old clothing to charity houses for them to resell for needy orphans.”

Winter shrugged. “Or we find a way to interrogate Diargento who probably knows everything about anyone in this fleet.”

“What do Enri’s notes have to say about Diargento?” I took another sip from my cup.

“His entry has been scrubbed.  So, someone’s been here before us.” Winter ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

“I have an idea.” I grinned at her and she raised her eyebrows at me.

~~~~

Marion slept like wood in the forest.  He snored too which is why I was awake in the middle of ship’s night.  Fred created a miniature com port for my reader so I could tap into the medical files of the ship crews.  Every ship had its own doctor, but I figured with Marion as the primary physician for the fleet, he’d have copies from the other ships.  I felt a trifle…uncomfortable taking advantage of him like this, as he had been nothing but kind to me.  However, I also knew if Winter and I didn’t find a weakness in Diargento, Valoise, and Eteria we could be in worse trouble.  The process was slow as the files had an encryption on them, which I’d never seen before. 

“Mmmpfh…’Lora?” Marion rolled over and I scuttled to the side of the bed and scooted in.  I glamoured the reader and let the port do its work on the bedside stand next to my clothes.  “You ‘wake?” He had a charming bedhead and a befuddled expression. 

“Yes, I’m awake, tshiri, now, go back to sleep.” I stroked his wild tumble of ebony curls and felt him relax against my shoulder. He mumbled something into my armpit.  “Hmm?” I hummed at him.

“You too nice ta be a pirate.” He muttered then snored.

I stared at the ceiling.  Yeah, I’m nice. Chuksa.

I sighed and let him sleep even though my arm felt numb and prickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Pertumit Garundi 13

“Ellora Grace, do you read?” Fred’s voice cut through the suit com’s overlapping conversations.

“Right here, Fred, just follow the beacons.”  I’ve never been so happy to see my ship as Winter cast out a grappler to snag the metal fuselage and I followed the line all the way to the airlock.

I yanked my helmet off the sec the lock cycled through. “Don’t cast it off! These nasty little things don’t seem to like it for some reason.”

Winter had her hand on the eject/retract button, and she shot me a quizzical look before her expression morphed into one of horror. “Mehariet shuushoneki, is that what I think it is?” She pointed to the mine encased in its housing.  It was still inert although I’d placed it on the metal floor of the ship when I pulled off the ill-fitting envirosuit. 

“Yes, and I don’t know what this is protecting us or how it came to be, but I’ll take it for now.  We should take this thing to Marion; he might be able to determine if it is a lifeform.”

Winter looked physically ill for a nano.  She recovered swiftly though and shoved the case with the mine into a containment capsule and activated the field.  The blue glow enveloped the clear plexisteel container effectively placing the mine into stasis.  “Warn me next time you bring any Bildarthian chuksa on this ship.” Winter glared at me and stalked off leaving me to reel in the rest of the payload.

“Hello to you too, glad you are safe,” I muttered under my breath.

“I am happy you are safe.” Fred chimed in softly.

I sighed. “Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What in the seven hells is that?” Marion took one look at the containment canister and the grim expression on Winter’s face. 

L’Marchonase wore an equally grim expression. “Well, cousin, I’m hoping you can tell us.”

He walked all the way around the canister shaking his head.  “This is one of those mines, isn’t it?  You sent one of your insane chuksa Mentari out there to…”

I didn’t let him finish. “I took the Ni’chine ship after I’d discovered what they were carrying in their cargo hold.  I also discovered that one of their slaves wasn’t what it said it was.  My intent was to capture the imposter posing as a human, but the mines disintegrated his escape pod.  I saw an opportunity and used it.” I lifted my chin to stare at him. He blinked at me but wisely said nothing.

“This form does not like a piece of metal from the ship.  I think it wise to get a metallurgy and spectrometer team to look at the chunk to find out why.  In the meantime, I think whatever it is wrapped in holds it inert so be careful with the material.”

Marion slowly nodded his head.  “I’ll run an analysis on the wrappings first.  I’ll let you know what I find shortly.”

We left him conversing with his techs and headed for the battle bridge conference room. “My man in the Kerlian parliament should be ready to report.” L’Marchonase looked tense and as we entered the room I could see why.

The man with the shaggy dark hair and green prosthetic eye sat drumming his fingers on the redwood table.  He didn’t look like a diplomat dressed in a long duster coat made of Parchense duja leather.  His eyes were almond-shaped and only the deepening wrinkles around them betrayed his age.  He held his mouth strangely like his lips were overly extended at the corners.  My overall impression made me think about my elfin cousins back on Altamira.  When he stood, he was easily as tall as Winter. His glance slid over the both of us and he gave a slight nod to Winter.

Winter didn’t react.  She took her seat and folded her hands in her lap.  I sat down in one of the chairs behind her but close enough where I could hear the conversation. L’Marchonase gestured for him to begin.

He nodded. “The Kerlian Viseur and the primary adjudicator, called the Glazier, are rumored to have invested heavily into a project which needs the supply of Garundi amber to be profitable.  While the amber does produce a notable euphoric effect, their leaders have found a way to increase the effects of the amber, perhaps to use as a narcotic or for medical anesthesia.  If so, my contacts believe they intend to market the drug to their own people and export the remainder either legally for medical use or illegally as a party drug.  I heard a rumor, but have no proof of, a contact within the Hideku to move the meds off-world. 

Winter shifted in her seat but made no comment.

“I have also heard the labs creating these drugs are not on Kerlian but are in orbit.  Allegedly, they have two built and two still under construction.  The Viseur and Glazier siphoned off funds from off-world exports and import taxes to create the labs.  The discrepancy was noted by their consular staff but written off as an armament deal gone bad with the Sambrosians and a new race called the Trangee. I do not think the Kerlian parliament is aware of the depth of the embezzlement.”

“That sounds like a large-scale operation and one hard to hide.” L’Marchonase frowned.

“I thought so too, but they’ve acquired technology from somewhere that hides the labs from conventional detection. My guess is it must be the Trangee.  I’ve never heard of them before, and in my experience, the Sambrosians don’t have the kind of technology to hide orbital platforms.”

L’Marchonase nodded. “Were you able to find out any information about missing ships?  The transit authority seems to keep poor records.” He made a face indicting his disgust.

Diargento thumbed the controls on the table.  “My contacts weren’t specific, and this is a little out of their league.  But they did indicate there is a general wariness to travel beyond the buoy boundaries marking the main routes here, and here.” He marked the holo map with a stylus indicating a blank section of space.

Winter nodded and L’Marchonase’s frown deepened.  “Seems you were correct, Winter.  They have one way in and one way out just like we would.”

Diargento glanced at Winter. “This wouldn’t have something to do with those mines I’ve been hearing about?”

L’Marchonase sighed. “I expected Skelly to fill you in.  Did he tell you we captured one and are working on developing a countermeasure?”

Diargento grinned and he had a fair number of prosthetic teeth inlaid with auran. “He told me about the mines.  You’ve found a way to neutralize it already?”

L’Marchonase’s shrug was both poetic, practical, and indicated nothing beyond what Diargento apparently already knew.

Diargento left shortly thereafter, whistling to himself, and I thought, “There goes an extremely dangerous man.”

Winter apparently agreed with my unvoiced thought. “Enri, he’s trouble.  Valoise and the Ebroni woman are plotters, but they are essentially too greedy for their own good.  That one,” She indicated the departed Diargento with her hand, “Is the zagritzah at the bottom of the cistern.  He’s biding his time.”

L’Marchonase sighed heavily. “I know. The only reason I’m still Grand Captain of this fleet is that he and Skelly have not moved against me.  Those two are intelligent men and they also know they stand to make a lot of money because each of my crazy plans has worked…in the past.  I’m only as good as the next score, and we need to make one soon to keep the smaller ships in line.  He knows it too.” L’Marchonase’s com chimed, and he answered.  He made some non-committal noises and commed off.  “Marion’s found something.  He’ll be up.”

I used the intervening few chronos to visit the ‘fresher and smooth out my hair.  When I emerged, Winter and L’Marchonase were deep into a discussion of drone harassment tactics and how to use both ends of the bottleneck against the Garundis and Kerlians.  Marion rushed in, threw himself in a chair, and immediately dialed up a carafe of cafcocoa from the culinary dispenser.  He grabbed the thermocup, took a big swig, winced at the heat, and swallowed rapidly.  He waved the cup at me.

“You’re not going to believe this.  The reason why the mine is currently inert and why it doesn’t like the chunk of the wreckage is because both are organic matter.  I think I am looking at egg protein…well I know I am because the metal section of the ship is from the Ni’chine birthing well.”

I blinked. Ni’chine lay eggs? Birthing wells?

He must have read the expression on my face. “I know, it was a surprise to me too.  Our lady of cryogenic storage laid eggs recently because she has the egg brooding patch visible on her lower abdomen.”

“I didn’t see any eggs on the ship.” Not that I could have found them in the mess. 

“I don’t know a lot about the Ni’chine,” L’Marchonase spoke up, “But I do know those two weren’t a brooding pair.  I got the impression one was a hatchling of the other.”

Marion nodded. “I got the impression as well, which means the brood was brought on by something else.  They would have used the eggs for food, or randomly smashed the shells if the mood struck them.”

That would explain the smell. I wrinkled my nose. Winter remained impassive.

“I have a hypothesis based on the organic matter on the ship’s metal and the pouch around the mine.  They are both made of embryonic protein, although I couldn’t tell you what lifeform created the pouch and the protective barrier around the mine though.  I want to do a quantum dissection on the mine but rather than do it here on the Siren, we’d need to set me up on a disposable ship.”

L’Marchonase shook his head. “I would like to know the function of those mines as much as you do.  But you know how I feel about risking members of my immediate family.”

“Enri, you said the crews are restless.  Every rotation we wait, the certainty of mutiny becomes closer to reality.  How many people on this ship know I am your cousin? Entirely too many, and I knew it would come out at some point.  I am a liability to you, and you know it.”

Winter stood, and I stood with her. “You have much to discuss, Enri. We should leave you…”

“No.” L’Marchonase indicated the chair and Winter slowly sat back down leaving me to creep back into my seat. “My cousin and I can debate this later. While Marion is here, you,” He pointed at Winter, “Should narrate the fight with the Ni’chine for me.”

“Enri, I don’t…” Winter trailed off as the security footage from the fight was displayed on the holo system in the middle of the table.

The security Eyes caught Winter in one of the Siren’s lower cantinas drinking steadily and watching a newsie holo on her tabletop.  She clearly minded her own business and did not even appear to notice when the Ni’chine and their two mounts entered the bar.  The Eye moved forward a solis and it was clear the Ni’chine acted drunk and belligerent.  They insulted the bar staff, deliberately dropped drinks, and acted with hostility toward everyone.  In time, they were joined by two heavily hooded figures who appeared to be drinking less and intentionally chiding the Ni’chine for their lack of ability to bring in a live Hashtaaleen. The audio feed from the Ears in the bar fought through the ambient noise and provided a translation streamer at the bottom of the holo.

I didn’t tell Winter what I’d seen on the ship.  I didn’t even know how I’d broach the subject.  I wasn’t sure I could, either.  So, I sat and watched as the taller of the hooded individuals approached Winter’s table.  The two Ni’chine dismounted and chained their humans to the bag and chattel hooks under the table.  They circled around behind Winter while the tall, hooded humanoid spilled his drink all over her.  The second hooded one waited until Winter appeared distracted by the sudden bath in alcohol before plowing into her from behind.  The two Ni’chine drew their knives and dove on top of Winter.  The hooded ones attempted to hold her down while the Ni’chine presumably tried to saw off her head.  They only got ragged chunks of hair as Winter twisted out of the grip of the hooded ones and sprung the catch on her stave.  Winter slammed the business end of the weapon into the face of one of the Ni’chine and she howled as her eye was wrenched free of its socket and thrown across the room.  The hooded humanoids wisely backed off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the Ni’chine to fend for themselves.  Stupidly, they continued to attack Winter and she dispatched them in a few chronos.  Winter pulled the drink bulb from the socket on the table and left the bodies on the floor of the cantina.  The Eye caught the hooded humanoids standing outside in the gathered crowd and watched as Winter staggered away. 

I saw it, and I am sure Winter saw it too although it was in the holo for only half a nanosec.  The cowl of the taller of the two hooded ones slipped exposing a flash of a colorful facial tattoo.

Valoise!

I’m sure Winter must have thought so too. She turned to me, tilted her head, and shrugged.  “I wish I could tell you what happened but, I don’t remember any of this, Enri.” She looked back at him and gave him a closed-lipped smile. 

I knew the expression on her face though even if L’Marchonase didn’t.  We were going to pay the captain of Siren fleet ship Sausenty-Une a visit soon.

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