Spoiler alert: This is the beginning of the 9th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2024/10/17/reckless-faith-ix-prologue/

On the bridge of the Reckless Faith, the mood among the crew was that of excitement. Dana and Ari had found a match for the arrangement of stars depicted in Maoko’s drawing, and they were eager to share that information with Christie. While the sporadic contact they’d had with her, and NASA by extension, continued to indicate that no help would be dispatched, they were still holding out hope that the news they were about to share would spur someone to act. Eva, Ari, Dana, and Fuyue were ready to send a message back to Earth, but first they’d have to wait until the line was free.

At the moment, the channel was occupied by Friday, sitting on the pilot chair, and a tuxedo cat named Renée, five hundred light-years away, on the bridge of the Vigilance. It was a social call, and the two chatted about life with the humans and their experiences with having recently become sentient. Unable to actually speak English, their conversation was being facilitated entirely by their connections to their respective orbs, with the dialogue being relayed through the synthetic voices they’d chosen for themselves. The humans didn’t want to be rude, but the cats had been going on for almost half an hour. Eventually, they’d have to be interrupted.

“What about play time?” Renée was asking. “Do you still have time for that?”

“I’ve lost interest in that,” Friday replied. “It doesn’t hold the same excitement anymore.”

“Really? Never? Maybe you should try a new toy.”

“It’s more complicated than that. I’m sorry, Renée, but I’m pretty sure the humans need to use the radio now. We can talk again later, okay?”

Renée looked crestfallen. “Okay.”

Friday turned to Dana. “It’s all yours.”

“Renée,” began Dana, “we need to talk to Christie now.”

Renée looked up and to one side. “I’ll put you through. Goodbye, Friday.”

The screen changed to a text message with information on the channel, and indicated an audio-only connection. Christie’s voice came through a moment later.

“Hello, Reckless Faith,” she said. “Are you still at the Eagle?”

“Yes,” replied Dana. “Christie, we have great news. We identified the location of Maoko’s drawing. The constellations shown are a match to a location at or within the solar system of Upsilon Andromeda. That’s about three hundred light-years from us, and only forty-four light-years from Earth. An inconsequential trip for the Faith, and a pop out for smokes for the Fox or any one of your fleet.”

There was a pause before Christie replied. “I hear what you’re saying, Andrews. Unfortunately, the position of Earth’s allies has not changed since the disaster on Tartarus. If your crew has come to terms with that, then fine; but Brockway and the rest of the survivors on the Percheron needed only to tell the truth to NASA, the Space Force, and our allies, to convince them that any support given to the Reckless Faith is counterproductive.”

“We’ve had this conversation before,” said Ari. “I’m not going to suggest that finding our missing friends is more important than the defense of Earth, but come on, Christie! Have you no sympathy for John and Kyrie? Most of all, Ray?”

“They would be the first ones to discourage sacrificing our defensive resources on an uncertain mission to find them. However, I still care about their wellbeing. I will, of course, share this information with everyone. I can’t make any promises, but I suspect at least one person will find a way to help you. Whatever form that help may take, I’ll have to disavow any knowledge of it.”

Eva said, “We appreciate it. I’m sure you have a lot on your plate. Can you at least share with us the progress of the fleet?”

“The Valkyrie is near completion. Next up is a series of Dietrich-class light cruisers, which will be similar to the Mark Seventeen. Unlike the V-series ships, these will be manufactured in the UK and Japan in addition to the US.”

“Exciting.”

“We think so. Was there anything else?”

‘Uh. No. Thank you, Christie.”

The screen switched back to show the cavernous interior of the Eagle’s main hangar.

“What’s going on with her?” asked Fuyue.

Ari said, “It turns out that being violently disincorporated several times is traumatic to the psyche. Who knew?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, that’s it then? You’re going to wait for the arrival of the Antares, then go look for your friends?”

“That’s the plan,” replied Dana. “We’re still hoping that Captain Lesath will choose to have her ship accompany us, but we’ll understand if they want to take you and return to their own mission.”

“I imagine they’ll come with you. I might have been able to convince them otherwise, if not for my current situation. Regardless of that, I’m on your side. Speaking of which…”

Fuyue walked to the back corner of the bridge, and picked up Eva’s bokken. Eva and Ari’s hands moved to their pistols, but they did not draw. Fuyue noticed their reactions, and after a moment, put the bokken down.

“Well?” asked Eva.

“Nothing. I seem to have the same problem that Faen did after she got her android body. Our natural connection to these weapons is gone.”

“If I recall correctly,” began Ari, “you said that Faen had ‘some difficulty’ adapting her staff to her new body, not that she couldn’t use it at all.”

“Certain features can be activated without any innate talent. She learned enough to be granted the rank of Sortarius. I’ll regain my rank, too, given enough time. Anyway, I continue to find this interface to be exhausting. If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my quarters and turn my brain off for a while.”

“Of course, take all the time you need.”

Fuyue exited to the conference room. Ari glared at Eva.

“I thought you had that thing locked in the armory.”

Eva shrugged. “I did. These artifacts have a tendency to end up where they think they should be.”

Dana said, “If you trusted him enough to believe that he’s really Fuyue, then why the apprehension about him handling that weapon?”

“It just surprised us, that’s all,” said Ari. “As Eva said, the staff was supposed to be in the armory.”

“I see. Let’s just hope you’re not handing a ticking time bomb to Lesath.”

“She got a full briefing; she should be aware of the risks. Perhaps they can use their Sortarii powers to reach their own conclusions. As far as we can tell, if a person is the sum of their memories, then that’s Fuyue.”

Dana picked up a mug from the console, only to find it empty. “Speaking of which, did you have a chance to review his use of his staff?”

“I did. Need more coffee?”

“Yes.”

Eva said, “Me too, but I’m going to stow this staff again. I’m curious to see what will happen. I’ll meet you two in the galley.”

“Friday, you have the bridge,” said Dana.

“Okey dokey,” said the cat.

The three women got up and made their way to the galley. Jim was there, sitting on the couch with a tablet, so they greeted him. Eva exited toward the orb room while Dana got herself a fresh serving of coffee. They sat down at the bar, and soon, Eva returned.

“So, whatcha got?” Eva asked.

Ari swiveled around on her stool. “What Fuyue said about certain functions not requiring any skill is sort of true. As we’ve discovered, not everyone can see the patterns on the surface of these weapons. If they can, then yes, it’s a simple matter of teaching them where to hold it, or what sequence of touches will make it work. Other things, most notably the shock wave Fuyue used to gib Graffias, and the inferno he used to obliterate the Rakhar in the bowels of the spaceport on Sadal Biham, require a skill that goes beyond anything that can be quantified. In those cases, Fuyue just imagined what he wanted to happen, and it happened.”

“That has been my experience as well.”

Dana said, “That’s interesting, thank you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get us any closer to replicating a staff or appropriating any of its technology for other uses.”

“Thankfully,” replied Ari, “we still have bullets and bourbon.”

“Speaking of which, it’s 1700. Shall we?”

__________

Another two days had passed since John and his friends had arrived at the Flying Serpent. For the most part, they had spent that time minding their own business and enjoying the fruits of Cane’s winnings at the Pit of Vipers. Cane had managed to get himself banned from that establishment, but not before acquiring enough money to allow their team to buy whatever they wanted, and easily sustain themselves until they arrived at Tengshe. Though they were keeping their mouths shut, they were keeping their ears open, and during visits to bars and restaurants they had managed to pick up a few bits of useful information.

Madet’s investigation into the sabotage incident, though no one knew why, was pointing toward members of the Order of Andromeda. Scuttlebutt seemed to indicate that people thought this was a matter of Madet going after low-hanging fruit, and/or an attempt to find a scapegoat. The team was far more skeptical of this possibility, unless it also involved a cover-up, since their impression of Madet was of a man who genuinely cared about the Serpent. Ultimately, it wouldn’t be their problem, unless there was another incident in the next couple of weeks.

They had also debated the wisdom of trying to get any info out of Helena, the alleged former member of the Order. A few of them had visited her establishment a few times, but had so far discovered that she presented herself as a normal bar owner dealing with day-to-day business and occasionally kicking out problematic drunks, rather than a mysterious mystic. They did, however, at least introduce themselves to her while ordering drinks. After becoming familiar faces, John had decided to give it a shot.

It was evening by the Serpent’s clock, and John stood in the corridor on the second deck of the Tempest, waiting for those that had volunteered to come with him. They had been able to upgrade from the basic quarters a deck below, and surprisingly, the same ship had much nicer accommodations above. They’d also discovered that after the upgrade, their keycards granted them access to the rest of the ship, including the engine room and bridge, but those chambers offered them nothing but a look at some systems long since derelict.

Reveki was the first to emerge from her quarters. John immediately noticed that she was carrying her Sortarii staff.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to be carrying that around,” he said. “You remember how the Anachronians reacted to seeing one. We can’t be sure someone here isn’t similarly opposed to them.”

Vecky was crestfallen, but nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just that this staff manifested itself all the way from the Eagle’s reactor room to the Fox on its own accord, and also survived being transported across hundreds of light years from Tartarus to Ibnal’saffar. I’m clearly meant to have it.”

“I agree, but even still, you haven’t been able to access any of its powers.”

“Consider it an emotional support staff. Anyway…”

Vecky stowed the staff in her quarters. By the time she got back, Richter, Kyrie, and Ray had arrived.

“Cane’s still a little miffed at not being invited,” said Kyrie.

“After getting kicked out of that gambling den,” John replied, “I think it’s best he not come along for this. There’s too much of a chance that someone he pissed off will be there.”

Richter said, “There weren’t any guns drawn, but the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. For a moment I thought there was going to be a shootout. Though the pit boss let us leave with our winnings, I’d even go as far as to say that Cane shouldn’t leave the Tempest at all for the rest of the trip.”

“I’ll talk to him,” began Vecky, “but I can’t force him to stay here. I think he’ll listen to reason.”

“I found out that those people on roller skates are a food delivery service,” said Ray. “He can get whatever he wants delivered to his room.”

“I was wondering what those guys scooting around were doing,” said John. “We’ll deal with Cane when we get back. Everybody ready to head out?”

There were no objections, so the group made their way to the airlock and out to the cavernous concourse. It was dinnertime, so there was no shortage of people around. As they’d come to expect from the Serpent, the smell of two dozen different restaurants and food carts permeated the air. The group weaved their way through the crowd, keeping their pistols and other valuables in check as each of them inevitably brushed against a stranger on their way to their destination.

The area around the entrance to Nepenthe wasn’t as congested, probably due to the fact that the bar didn’t serve food other than snacks. Upon entering, however, they found the bar fully occupied, and most of the tables claimed. More than a few patrons were smoking tobacco, or some analog thereof, and a layer of blue-gray smoke clung to the ceiling. After a moment to wander throughout the bar, they at last found a table that was free. John swept a collection of nut shells and other crumbs to the floor, and they sat down.

“How many of these shitholes have we had to endure throughout our travels?” asked Ray.

“I think Helena runs a better shop than that,” replied Vecky.

“I just meant in general.”

“All right,” began John. “We’ve all been here before. Decide what you want to drink, and I’ll put in the order. Richter, do me a favor and go easy on the booze.”

Ray grinned. “So the rest of us can get drunk?”

“Work on your splits a bit more before you act so confident, Bailey. So, what’ll it be?”

The group decided on what they wanted, choosing from a diverse list of what they knew Nepenthe had to offer. John went to the bar, edging carefully between the man on the last stool on the left and a woman standing by the wall. Helena was there, but John was approached by one of her employees first, a young Mirachian woman with long, braided hair.

“Are you sure you’re good to be out of quarantine already?” she asked.

“You said that the last time I was here, and yes. Captain Strouth runs a tight ship. Or contraption, as it were.”

“My boss said you and your people are Terran. I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a rather boring planet quite far from here. We’re seeking our own fortune out this way. I doubt we’ll ever be back. Can I place an order?”

A moment later, laden with a tray of four giant glasses of the local version of lager beer, John returned to the table, managing to put them down without spilling anything.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Vecky.

“I was hoping to find a natural way of opening up a conversation with Helena. I guess for now we can just hang out and look for an opportunity.”

“That might not happen unless foot traffic thins out in a bit,” said Ray.

Richter reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. “Fortunately, I brought a way to kill time.”

“Careful with that,” said John. “There’s no gambling allowed in here.”

“Who said anything about gambling? Come to think of it, if you really want to force a conversation with her, let her think we’re gambling.”

“That might work. Go ahead and start dealing.”

Richter began dealing cards to himself and the three others. “Five card draw. Let’s keep it simple for now.”

Sure enough, the group hadn’t even made it through the first hand before they noticed Helena’s employee pointing them out to her. The older woman approached the table. She was wearing a blue handkerchief on her head, which covered her hair and ears, and an apron on her body. She had dark circles under her eyes, and had something on a cord around her long neck, the end of which was tucked into her undershirt.

“This had better be a friendly game,” she said.

“For the most part,” replied Richter, pulling out a coin. “Let’s make a deal. Heads, we gamble, tails, we don’t.”

He flipped the coin into the air, and Helena leaned over and caught it. As she did so, a pendant slipped out from underneath her shirt. John’s eyes widened as he saw the shape of it.

“Nice try,” she said, pocketing the coin. “It was tails, and your first tip of the night.”

John pointed at the pendant. “That’s a pretty swan you’ve got there. My girlfriend has an identical one back home.”

Helena stiffened up and gave him a curious look. “A gift from you, or did she have it before?”

“I think you know where she got it.”

She tucked the pendant back under her shirt, and considered the group at the table. After a moment, she gestured at them.

“Come with me.”

She walked toward the bar, so John and his team grabbed their drinks and followed. She led them to a back room, which was a combination of an office and a storeroom. She sat at her desk, removed her handkerchief, and ran her fingers through her hair. There were no other chairs, so the rest of them stood awkwardly by the door. John noticed that her ears lacked any lobes.

“As I thought,” he said. “You’re Dellalian.”

She put a hand under her desk. “And you’re Terran, at least you and your men are. The girl, I’m not so sure. Anyway, you wanted to get my attention. You’ve got it. What do you want from me?”

“I’ll get to that. First of all, are you familiar with what happened on the Swan recently?”

“You mean the total collapse of the SCC?”

“Yes, but more specifically I mean the Terrans that were brought to the Swan by Cygnus.”

“Yes. I was there that day. Total chaos.”

“We were part of the group that was abducted from Terra and brought there. Most of them were rescued by the CLF during the subsequent attack on the Swan, but we were left behind. Over the next few weeks, we had the chance to return to Terra, but had become fascinated with learning more about the galactic community that prior to that we had no idea even existed. So, we decided to throw in our lots with a freighter that was headed to Caracal, then joined the Serpent for a slow trip to Tengshe.”

Helena nodded. “So it seems we decided to follow a similar path, though I chose to depart the Swan for a different reason. I was a dyed-in-the-wool Cygnian disciple. That religion had waned, but still had a small, fervent following. I was devastated by the death of Cygnus, and infuriated by what became of the Swan. I fled to Dellal, but it wasn’t far enough. I wanted to get as far away from there as possible. I wanted to try to forget. I suppose that’s impossible.”

“It seems our fates are intertwined. Helena, we were hoping to talk to you about the Order of Andromeda. You see, we’re distrustful of mysterious religious sects, and we were hoping to have an uneventful crossing to Tengshe.”

She folded her arms across her chest. I’d like to help you, but I’m sworn to secrecy… and that’s an oath I still take seriously now even though I’m not a member anymore. If it makes you feel better, you have nothing to fear from them. Just ignore them and you’ll be fine.”

Vecky said, “If they’re sworn to secrecy, then how do they recruit new members?”

“Oh, they’ll give you a neat little sales pitch if you stop by their temple. They’ll promise you all the typical things; peace of mind, a sense of purpose, et cetera. They don’t go any further until you take your vows.”

“Can you at least share with us why you left?” asked Ray.

“I didn’t find peace of mind or a sense of purpose.”

“Fair enough,” said John. “Is it as simple as saying ‘goodbye’ to quit?”

“Yes. Find out for yourself if you want. But I warn you, their leader is very good at sussing out people who aren’t genuine in their interest. That’s all I have to say about it. For now, I’ve got to get back to my work. I would like to talk to you more about your experiences on the Swan later, if you’re willing.”

“Sure. What time do you close?”

“Zero-two. Just knock.”

John nodded, and his group returned to the bar. Their table had been taken, and there were no others, so they chugged their beers, put their empty glasses on a tray, and exited to the concourse.

“Are you planning on telling her the truth?” asked Vecky.

“I don’t think that would go over well,” said Ray.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t,” John said. “I’ll stick to our cover story. That said, if I’m staying up that late then I’m going back to my quarters to take a nap. If any of you want to come, stop by at zero-one-thirty.”

Richter said, “I’ll be there. Though your ability to BS people never ceases to amaze me, prying into such things as the sabotage problem and Captain Strouth’s stubbornness may not go over well, either.”

“It’s fortunate that she’s from the Swan,” said Vecky. “Otherwise I don’t think she’d talk to us at all. I’ll be there.”

John nodded. “I agree. Ray?”

“Count me in,” he replied.

There was a commotion about a hundred meters down the concourse. A small group was heading in their direction, shouting about something, and the crowd quickly grew as people ran to see what the problem was. As the angry throng moved within earshot of John and his team, they could hear some of what was being said.

“They’ve caught the saboteur!” shouted one man.

“Take him to Captain Strouth!” said a woman.

If there was a suspect at the center of the crowd, they couldn’t see. Richter clambered on top of a nearby crate for a better view.

“Shit,” he spat, then to the others, “It’s Malthus.”

“Malthus?” asked Ray. “What the hell?”

Richter hopped down to the deck. “So much for keeping this whole thing quiet.”

“We can’t help him now,” said John. “Hopefully they won’t tear him to pieces before they get to the Kestrel. Strouth knows he can’t possibly be the suspect. He’ll get this sorted out.”

“Sure, if he doesn’t think Malthus is an easy scapegoat. Either way, shit’s just going to get worse from here.”