CHAPTER 1
Wyatt’s scream tore through the silence of the night.
Sitting in bed, he was panting, with beads of sweat trickling down his face.
Again with this nightmare, he thought.
For a moment, he wondered when thechp last time was that same nightmare hadn’t interrupted his sleep. It felt like years. Before he could delve further into the subject, Pyro jumped onto his bed and yelped.
“It’s all right, buddy, it’s just the same old nightmare,” said Wyatt softly, even though the quarters on Grandor Station were perfectly soundproof and he didn’t need to whisper.
He looked through the window of his cramped quarters to the asteroid fields outside. He wondered how he ended up here. How he went from a wage-earning cargo runner to a scrounger in just a few years. When his ship broke a few months back, he couldn’t even scrounge anymore, and was now forced to drill asteroids for Galactic Megacorp.
He sighed, wondering how much further his luck could run out.
Pyro barked twice, probably sensing his brooding. His faithful synth dog was more than just a pet. Here on the belt of the Tartarus system, Pyro was his dearest and only friend. HereH, in the cold vastness of space, light-years away from any civilization worthy of the name, Wyatt couldn’t imagine going through the grind of mining ore on asteroids.
Enlist for Titan… he recalled them saying over the galactic stream. Join in the adventure to broaden your horizons… right. Same lies, different rock, Wyatt reflected. It was just another type of scrounging, except the pay was regular. More often than not, however, the pay was inferior to when he worked independently.
That’s how they got people to these dead-end jobs. Everyone needed the credits to eat. Perhaps one day, he’d make enough to get his ship back. As was often the case with a marketing pitch for low-paying, high-risk and far away grunt space work like this job, the advertisement for enlisting made it seem like an opportunity. In fact, nothing was further from the truth. Life on the space station ate up his credits far quicker than maintaining his ship did.
The neural interface he shared with his dog came to life. And Pyro’s current thoughts were being translated and displayed as letters and words overlaid on Wyatt’s field of view though the implant. He blinked a few times to de-blur his vision from the sweat that got into his eyes. But eventually, he had to swipe the burning corners of his eyes to read the message.
“You really should do something about these night terrors of yours. I almost repainted our carpet this time around.”
Wyatt felt bad for his furry friend, his night terrors were affecting him. Of course, because he was a synth dog, he couldn’t have had a bowel accident; but Pyro didn’t know that. Because his AI matrix and personality had been dumped from a real dog, he didn’t really know or understand the synthetic nature of his existence. Wyatt preferred it this way. For all intents and purposes, the transition from fading old age biological to synth had been a smooth one, and Wyatt loved him just as much in this form as when he did, on occasion, soil the carpet.
“I know, buddy, but there’s not much I can do about it. I don’t have any control over my dreams.”
Pyro barked twice, a telltale sign that he was expressing disagreement. The neural interface linking them was not only very old but also made of cheap retrofitted tech that at times felt glued together. Not by choice, either. That had been the only tech he could find when scrounging, and that his limited engineering skills could allow him to install by himself. Because of the low-grade tech installed inside Pyro, not every one of the dog’s thoughts translated properly, or at all; a problem that Wyatt hoped the next upgrade he had lined up for Pyro would fix.
Wyatt glanced at the holographic clock by the side of his basic, no frills, Sector Epsilon standard bunk bed. It was five to three in the morning. His shift mining ore on the nearby asteroid belt wouldn’t start for another two hours, so he could try and get some additional shut-eye, but something told him he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.
Sector Epsilon wasn’t the cheapest part of the station, but it wasn’t the most luxurious either. The cheaper quarters didn’t have sound proofing, and that was not something he could live without, especially with Pyro. Also, the size of his quarters, though cramped, allowed him to install a rather tiny, but functional workbench. His ship still contained some loot from his last scrounging runs. Some parts he could recover to repair Pyro when things went awry.
“I can’t sleep, buddy,” he said to Pyro, who replied only by cocking his head slightly to the side.
This iteration of the dream had been more intense tonight, and felt more like a lucid version of the nightmare he had most nights. He hated it when that happened. It felt so real. The touch, smells and all the raw emotions of dread, despair and regret were so deeply felt, that they reverberated through his nervous system even now.
As if the trauma had just happened to him a minute ago.
He petted Pyro on the head, scratching behind his neck, which always resulted in Pyro’s making the cutest of faces, before heading to the sonic shower. The events of the nightmare echoed the entire time, and unlike many other days, this time, he simply couldn’t shake how real it all felt. Like it had happened for the first time.
Yelena… I’m so sorry I’ve let this happened to you. I hope you know I’d trade my life to change what happened to you that day.
He quickly swiped away a tear forming at the corner of his eye before dressing up and walking toward the door of his quarters.
Pyro barked three times, and again the neural interface didn’t blink. That thing was clearly on the fritz.
“I’ll miss you too buddy, don’t fry your brain watching too much galactic streaming, okay? Those programs will rot your brain.”
Pyro barked once more.
“I’ll be careful, I promise. See you tonight.”
And with luck, I’ll have made enough credits for your next upgrade.
* * *
“You’re up early,” commented Gina, the cute barmaid from the Starblazer bar located near the central marketplace of the station. “Can’t sleep again?”
Wyatt took a sip of his Jovian tea before answering. “Yep… keeping having the same old nightmare.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”
The bar was nearly empty, which wasn’t surprising at such a late hour of the night. Although the concept of night and day was less important in space than when working planet bound, and even less so on such remote missions. Miners worked at all hours after all, through shifts that covered the entire rotation of the nearby planet the station orbited. The only good thing about this post was that for once, Wyatt didn’t inherit the graveyard shift. It was like his internal body clock could feel when it was day or night.
“That’s sweet of you… but it’s not something I like to talk about. A bit too personal, I guess, and depressing too. Wouldn’t want to bring your mood down for the entire day ahead.”
“Ah… I see, it’s that kind of memory. Old love wounds, then?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but close enough.”
From a holo-screen nearby, the presenter of a galactic news bulletin could be heard and seen. “We interrupt your current programming to inform you that another convoy has been hit near the Balaganos nebula. The Confederate fleet has dispatched multiple vessels for a rescue attempt. Unfortunately, they arrived on the scene too late. Hundreds of civilians, including children, have been killed in this last cowardly attack. The Terran Empire has issued a statement earlier tonight, denying any involvement in the event.”
“And that is why I don’t watch the news,” said Wyatt. “As if the state of things in the universe wasn’t bad enough, we need to get reminded every hour about more tragedies.”
“I get that feeling. I mostly tune it out, but unlike you, I don’t have the option to turn it off, with my job and all that.”
“Fair enough, and sorry that you have to be reminded on a daily basis how messed up things are in our galaxy.”
“That’s sweet of you to say. But you know what? I think every era goes through this. Look far enough through history books, and it’s always the same pattern. Wars, famine, some cataclysmic events. It’s like a never-ending cycle. War brings technological progress, then we have short periods of peace, until the next war.”
“Sure seems that way.”
She pressed a button under the bar and the holo-screen nearby turned off.
“Won’t you get in trouble doing that?”
“It’s just you and me here, who’s gonna know? Unless you intend to report me,” she said with a wink.
“No… of course not. That would be quite stupid of me to report you for doing exactly what I would have done. Thanks.”
She beamed a smile at him.
“You’re welcome. How’s your tea?”
“Quite delicious, as a matter of fact.”
“You do realize people usually come here for stronger drinks, right? Especially at this hour. They’re after something that will knock them out cold.”
“Even more reason why I appreciate your willingness to prepare such a beverage. No doubt it falls outside of your usual drink repertoire.”
“Well, what can I say. I’m a people pleaser. Goes with the territory, I guess. And after the third time I had to turn you down… I guess I felt bad for you. You had such a sad puppy look in your eyes, no offense.”
“None taken. So that’s why you ended up ordering it. You took pity on me?”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, not at all. That’s quite sweet of you, in fact. Thanks.”
“It’s also got me curious why you would keep asking for a drink you knew we didn’t have, and you’re welcome. After tasting it for myself, I must say, I understand the allure. It’s a very unique blend of leaves and it’s quite tasty too. I even enjoy making myself a cup from time to time now. So I guess I should be the one thanking you for your insistence.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment and Wyatt sketched a smile, which Gina replied to in kind.
“Since we can’t talk about your nightmares, and if you don’t mind me asking,” she continued, “mind telling me what you’re doing in this forsaken part of space?”
“II was wondering the same thing in bed earlier on. I need the credits to repair my ship. That’s why I’m mining in these parts, so I can fix it and return to…” he paused… “working for myself. It got damaged when I came under attack in the Thelos sector.”
“Thelos isn’t for the faint of heart. What were you doing in such a perilous part of space?”
Wyatt wasn’t proud of falling all the way from reliable cargo runner to scrounging to make ends meet. So, he talked around the truth, focusing on who he once was.. Before things went from bad to worse.
“I was on a cargo run. I used to be a space courier, before the ship got damaged. I barely made it out alive, and since I lost the cargo, which I had forgotten to insure…”
Gina raised an eyebrow. “Forgotten?”
“All right, you caught me. I thought I’d increase my margin in order to get someone I care about… a gift.”
“Why did you pause there? Sounds to me like that description, ‘someone you care about,’ isn’t the word you were initially going for.”
“Pyro, my synth dog, he’s all I got left from…” he sighed.
“From her.”
Wyatt nodded. “I told you I’d bring the mood down.”
“Don’t worry about that. Why synth, though?”
“The real Pyro passed away not long after she did. And… I guess I couldn’t let him go.”
“I see. Just a word of advice though, if I may, synths are not well regarded in this area of space. And don’t worry, I won’t say a word… just be more careful about revealing his true nature. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but beyond the obvious illegality of owning one in the first place, some people make it a sport to take them out. And since I can tell he means a lot to you, I’d watch out whom you talk about him to.”
Wyatt gulped down more of the soothing beverage before it got cold. Jovian tea lost most of its flavor as it cooled down. He reflected on her words. She was right, of course, it had been reckless to even mention the word synth in the first place, especially on this station. But for some reason, he felt he could trust her.
“I’m aware, but thank you for the warning; much appreciated. Pyro never leaves our quarters for this very reason.”
“Probably for the better, but the poor thing must feel lonely when you’re away mining the asteroid belt. I hope you don’t think it too forward, but I’d love to meet him one day.”
She’s sweet, thought Wyatt, before his mood reflexively descended one more level down, closer to the abyss of his soul. From the look on her face, she must have noticed.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no, you didn’t. It’s best just to ignore my bad mood. And, sure, we can arrange for you to meet Pyro anytime. I take it you don’t mind synths.”
“I prefer flesh and blood pets, but a mining space station is no place for a dog. Real or otherwise.”
“I keep telling myself that this will be a short assignment. Turns out the company doesn’t pay as well as they advertised.”
“I’m in the same boat, believe it or not. The ‘join our adventure’ pamphlet didn’t exactly go into details about the level of taxes on this space station.”
“Funny how that works, right? They keep rising too.”
“I’m starting to suspect it’s the only leverage they have to keep their workforce in place. Get them here on a false promise, and once they realize they’ve been played, make sure it takes forever for them to amass enough credits for a transport out.”
“And that’s why I hate Megacorp. They promise one thing, and then lock you in on false promises.”
“As long as the Confederate doesn’t implement stronger regulations in place, there will always be opportunistic and greedy corporations to squeeze the little guy.”
Wyatt nodded.
“Where are you from, initially?” Gina asked.
“Earth… but I haven’t returned there since my childhood. My parents were colonists; they wanted to find a better world for us to live on. Another false promise.”
“Hey… it could be worse, at least we’re not at war anymore. Can you imagine how life was in the stars during the Kharathi wars?”
“Only what I read about it. The Kharathi wars happened way before Terra went to the stars. What about you, where are you from?”
“I’m from Alpha Centauri. Like you I haven’t spent much time there, at least lately. Family tensions reached a boiling point and I felt I needed to leave to recenter on myself.”
“Centauri, you say. They were the first race humans made contact with when they left the Terran solar system, wasn’t it?”
“You know your stellar history. Back then, your planet was still a lush paradise teeming with life, when neither of us were born. Hard to believe Earth became such a desolate hole since then.”
Wyatt’s wrist device hummed. A message informing him he was kindly requested to start his shift two hours early. That last-minute request came with a credit bonus attached. While he was enjoying the talk with Gina, the prospect of making a few extra credits today felt like an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.
“I’ve really enjoyed our talk, Gina. But it looks like I have just picked up extra work today. Thanks again for the delicious tea, but I’ve got to get going,” he said with a sigh.
“No worries, and as a matter of fact, my shift is ending. As for the chat, I think that’s the most you and I ever talked, but I’m glad we did. You strike me as someone who tends to keep to himself.”
Wyatt reflected on these words. He hadn’t always been that way, but life had thrown some heavy curve balls his way.
“I’m sorry about that. Nothing personal though; I’ve just been complacent in my solitude these past few years.”
She smiled. “Nothing to be sorry about, I’m just glad you opened up a bit tonight. Be careful out there, will you? Hope you get enough credits to get your ship fixed and leave this sad place soon.”
Not for a long while, especially if I get Pyro his augment first.
He smiled at her. The thought of leaving the sector, after so much time, would definitely be a positive change of pace.
“Oh and I’m not usually so forward,” she added, “but when you do leave, would you consider taking a straggler along on your next travels? And while I lack credits, I used to be a skilled engineer… and would gladly offer my services in exchange for safe passage to… anywhere but here, really”
Wyatt could sense regret in her tone. He wished he could stay and inquire more about that, but his wrist device now buzzed with more intensity.
“Hold that thought for me for later? I’d love to stay and talk more but…”
She smiled and nodded. “Go! Don’t miss your transport or you’re never getting out of here.”
Wyatt left a generous tip but before he left the bar, she grabbed his hand and put the tip back in his palm.
“What are you doing?”
“I’d rather you save it toward getting your ship back. Now go, don’t be late.”
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