The Spiteful (Trapped.3)

“You look like you’re in pretty good shape, all things considered. I’m not seeing any contusions or wounds. No swelling, no concussion.”  Lin says. “You sure you smashed your head?”

“Pretty sure,” I said. “There was a lot of blood on the inside of my helmet.”

“Likely a nosebleed.” She said. “A damaged pack could mean a lot of problems. Dry air and low pressure are the least of them.”

“True. Yeah,” I said. I didn’t entirely believe her- I remember the pain in my head, from before I touched that metal- but it had faded in that moment. Things had changed for me. I’d seen things. I’d learned things. “Probably just in my head.”

It wasn’t in my head.

“So, you say you found the anomaly on the other side?” She asked, more conversationally. But I could hear the edge in her voice. She wanted an official report.

“It fit all the categories. Gravitational anomaly, a strong EM field, and some kind of radio jamming effect. It was some kind of charge built up in a curved piece of metal. Looked kind of artificial, but it had been there way before anybody set foot here. And that’s on top of a lot of caelumite. Like, we’re about to make serious credits.”

“I see.” She says with a nod. That was exactly what she was looking for, thankfully. “I’ll have the boys dig out the rest of that cavern,” she said. Then she nodded to me and made her way out. I snuck out right after her. 

I may not have gotten the all clear, medically, but I didn’t really care. I wasn’t about to go back to mining any time soon- my contract gave me a few days of relaxation after an incident like that- but I had some things I had to find out.

I poked my head into the workshop. My beat-up suit was in there, along with my pack, helmet, and everything else they were able to pull from the wreckage. On top of that, a few laser drills, and the general clutter and business of any normal mining outfit’s workshop. I made my way past it all to the technician terminal. I didn’t even try logging in on my own account- I needed to se Isabelle’s.

I reached down, under the desk, to find a digipick I’d stashed there a few months back, when we were first setting down on Vectera. Technically, Digipicks were originally high precision, maintenance tools. With powerful magnification, and the ability to deliver precision shocks or magnetic bursts, you could fuse together broken wires without even removing the casing off of anything. Practically speaking, though, nowadays they were mostly seen as more of a hacker’s tool- and worse, they’re disposable. Made by the cheapest bidder, they’d burn themselves out after you used them, since the pulse would be too much for the electronics inside. You could snap open a lock if you target the right location, and if you’re really clever…

I slid the digipick across the terminal, looking through the eyepiece, until I found the circuit board I was looking for, right next to the harddrive. These terminals- Anything with a Starware OS, really- had a common security issue, though they presented it as a feature rather than a bug. A security protocol meant to protect data from solar flares and strong electromagnetic fields could be misconfigured, if you knew how to hack the board properly. There are a lot of firmware updates that make this sort of thing a lot more difficult, and really paranoid people will layer their security board in a specialized casing… but Argos Extractors didn’t have the cash or the paranoia for something like that. 

I typed in Isabelle’s login ID, a gibberish password, and then hit enter. At the same time, I flashed the board with the digipick. The terminal beeped, the protocol ran. The terminal’s console flickered open for a fraction of a second, dumping any loaded memory- which included Isabelle’s password in plaintext.

With that, it was child’s play to log in. I found the program I’d had Isabelle write, in that cave. I looked it over. Took a deep breath, and let it out.

This was proof. Proof that I’d had some kind of weird epiphany, after touching that thing. That artifact.

I hadn’t known the math behind gravdrive functionality. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t remember it- I literally didn’t have the status or training to learn it. It’s restricted knowledge- only starship manufacturers, or the big nations like the United Colonies or Freestar Collective had easy access to that stuff.

But here, right in the code I’d deliriously given Isabelle, during one of the most stressful points in my life… It was right there. Staring at me. Something I distinctly remembered looking for and not being able to find. Proof that something weird was going on, and it wasn’t just in my head.

I copied the program onto my dataslate, and then an extra drive, just in case. I taped the drive below the desk, where the digipick had been.

And with that done, I was ready to actually get some sleep. I’d been awake way, way too long.

===

The dusty, beat up driller had been carted all the way up the elevator. The mess of cables had been torn and ripped apart. Some of it was burned out, and still smelled foul, even after the crew dug it out.

That curved piece of metal hung in the center of it all.

“You really did a number on that thing.” Lin said, arms crossed. “We won’t be able to get it back in working order. But, well, it was kind of a piece of shit.”

“Heh. I can’t call it that anymore.” I said. “It saved my life.”

“It did.” She says. “So that’s the artifact? Wedged inside?”

“Yeah.” I responded. “Best I can tell, it’s some kind of refined caelumite. More efficient than anything I’ve ever seen. Harder and tougher, too. Probably some kind of alloy. Could sell it to someone.”

“No can do.” Lin says. “Part of our setup here on Vectera was on contract, to find that thing specifically. Amundsen Barrett, of Constellation fame.”

I rolled my eyes. Constellation liked to claim they were scientists and explorers, but all they really did, most of the time, was sit in the middle of UC space and poke their fingers into everyone’s business.  They used to be a bigger deal, back before the Settled Systems were… well, settled, but nowadays they were basically the pet project of Stroud-Ekland’s CEO.

“You mean this site was funded by Stroud-Ekland?” I asked. 

Lin scoffed. “Constellation, actually. Like I said.”

“They’re the same thing.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess. The contract involves first buyer rights for any minerals we do find… at a discount?”

Lin schooled her features, giving me a stern frown.

“Just saying.” I said. “Because that’s a lot of Caelumite they’d be getting really cheap. Almost theft, really. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“And this is why I didn’t tell you until now.” Lin sighed. “What do you have against them, anyway?”

“Their ships are shit.” I lied casually. Lin just rolled her eyes.

“Barrett is on his way now, as we speak.” Lin said. “He wants to meet you, so be on your best behavior, right?”

“Sure thing,” I sighed. “When’s he showing up?”

“He’s in-system already, so-”

The door chirped, and slowly it opened. Standing on the other side, pulling off his helmet was an older man. He had a full beard, and was followed by an industrial Type-A robot. It looked like it had been through some shit, and hadn’t been maintained in weeks.

“Right now, it seems.” Lin says. “Barret! You got here quickly.”

“I was in the area already.” He responds. “You must be the man of the hour! Mister Gannon! Put together a grav drive out of an old drilling rig and some scraps, right?”

“It wasn’t exactly a fun time,” I responded. But I shook his hand anyway. He beamed at me- and somehow, I felt uncomfortable. A chill rolled up my spine. Like there was something bugging me about him. It wasn’t that I recognized him or anything, but there was something unnerving about his smile.

“What about the artifact itself? When you pulled it out? Was that a trip, or what?”

“... The hell you know about that?” I asked, suddenly interested. He just grinned.

“What did you see?” He asked. And it was that, in his tone of voice that I knew he was looking for these artifacts for a reason.

Words failed me, in that moment, to encapsulate what I’d seen. What I’d perceived. I had do default to something simple and basic.

“... I saw five of them. Five in a tight loop. Spinning.” I said. But that wasn’t all I’d seen.

“It led to somewhere new.” He said, the eyes of a zealot beholding me for a moment, “Didn’t it?”

“... Yeah,” I responded, my mouth dry. "It did."

"Perfect!"

“Excuse me, sir.” The robot suddenly buzzed. For a moment, I thought it may have been sentient. “There is a ship making a landing. It carries the same transponder from our previous encounter this morning.”

“Ah, I’d hoped we’d given them the slip.” Barrett sighed.

“... Who did you lead here?”  Lin asked.

“Well, I stumbled into some of the Crimson Fleet on my way here, and-”

“You led pirates here!?” Lin all but screeched. My blood went cold. I got to my feet, and all but ran to the intercom. I slammed it.

“Crimson Fleet is en route. Our…” I avoided saying ‘corporate puppet’ or ‘Constellation blockhead’ “.. Client seems to have brought some hanger-ons with him. Everyone gear up.”

Then I scooped up Heller’s laser drill- his overclocked, finicky one I’d just finished fixing- and stormed into the airlock.

“... Doesn’t like me much, does he?” I heard Barrett say behind me.