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I was on the Edge. As far away from civilisation as I could get. That was where I found the spacer. I can't be more specific than that, I wasn't really aware of who I was at the time, let alone where I was. I'd asked the computer, Shell, to give me the antidote pills to the stuff I had taken after two days but it was such a long time since I'd docked anywhere with a decent shipyard, that the chronometer had slipped out of sync. I had once programmed Shell to wake me with tea at 8.30, three months later an alarm went off and a hot cup of tea was produced. Poor Shell, she just had no idea how time progressed any more, most of my piloting was done manually these days. The star gates just seemed to make the problem worse, it was theoretically possible to arrive before you left and Shell frequently did by setting the chronometer wrong. The rest of her seemed to function fine though so it didn't seem urgent.
That was why I arose from my dreamy stupor three days late and there in front of me was the spacer, floating in the nether nothing of space, turning slowly. At least I assumed he was a spacer, no one else would be out here without a ship. As it turned out, I was right. Five days under the influence of Zedz had left me a bit groggy, it was advised by the manufacturer that it shouldn't be taken for longer then one day but no one listened to them. Everyone knew that the Deneb Galactic Drugs company wanted people to use little and often, and therefore keep them all in a job. It took me a while to piece together enough thoughts to work out how to use my limbs, but eventually I got my mouth moving enough to instruct Shell what to do.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, Shell brought the spacer on board and I peeled him out of his suit. He was in a pretty bad way. His oxygen had been out a while, he'd been recycling his air for a time after that, but those emergency recycling units don't work for more than a couple of hours before the catalyst gets clogged. He wasn't dead yet though. I got him to the bed at the back of the cabin and got Shell to flood the SleepNet with oxygen. I looked for any identidiscs that he might carry, but those religious types didn't usually hold with that kind of thing. They didn't like people to know what they were up to. He did have an insignia on his suit, a kind of squared off hour glass with a circle at its middle. That at least told me which cult he belonged to and in this area of space it could have been one of twenty or so. The spacing cults were popular on the Edge and I'd been working out here for some time.
Spacers came in many forms but they all believed in a religion known as Space Adventism. Unless you actually joined the cult you weren't privy to its mysteries but as far as I could work out it seemed to mean spending as much time communing with open space as possible. Spacers saw the universe as their home and hoped by meditating they would come to understand its true oneness. The holistic nature of space. Fine if you wanted to spend your days in the advanced stages of boredom. Spacer communities operated out of deep space stations, the religious community didn't spend much time indoors, only enough to replenish supplies, sleep in a bed or eat. But often there were associated workers, not spacers, who were employed to keep the spacers supplied and looked after.
This spacer was from a cult known as O'Ryan's Belt. No one knew who O'Ryan was or why his belt was significant. I was just glad he wasn't from the Sword of O'Ryan cult who took their religion a touch more seriously. Their worship took the form of killing almost everyone who openly disagreed with them. It did cross my mind then that bringing even a friendly spacer on board was going to cause me problems I hadn't considered. Spacer communities were fairly isolationist and didn't like unannounced visitors, normally I would call ahead but the last meteor shower had damaged Shell's radio. The other problem was that I was out here wasting time for a reason and I didn't really want to see anyone who might have a direct line to the police. I certainly didn't want to meet one of those piranhas on a dark night, and since it was always a dark night in space, that ruled out every night. I was going to have to decide soon, my passenger was waking up.
I introduced myself as Lars Anderson, not my real name but a regularly used pseudonym, the one I liked best. He gave his name as Vance Mara, and I wondered if that was a pseudonym. I had questions for him. What was he doing this far away from the community? There were no spacer stations around for some distance. He said he had fallen asleep during a meditation class and just drifted off, he was too far away to get back when he woke up. I wasn't sure that I believed him, it didn't seem like a very convincing story. It wasn't as if he was some young convert, he was middle aged, not the type to fall asleep in class. He had probably spent more of his life meditating on the holistic nature of the universe than I had spent in conscious thought. There was something more to this and it looked like I was going to have to take him back to O'Ryan's Belt Station just to satisfy my own curiosity.
I powered up the ship. It jolted sluggishly back to life. Not surprising since the engines had been dead for over five days now and floating in space where the environment was a harsh. Shell spouted some message about semi-clogged aft fuel valves, and I ignored it as I always did, but made a mental note to have a full shakedown at the next well equipped space port we jumped to. If we ever jumped to a well equipped spaceport again. The ship hadn't drifted far from the star gate while I had been in dreamland and it only took a few minutes under full power to get back to the gate. There I programmed in the co-ordinates Vance Mara gave me and we jumped to the spacer station.
And found ourselves in the middle of a war.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed, as fighter zipped across our bows, closely followed by its pursuer . "Why didn't you tell me, about this?"
"I would say that it is meant for me to die here. I escape, and get picked up by a ship which offers to take me back," said Vance Mara.
"Well, I don't want to die here." I began to head back for the jump gate but Shell flashed a warning up on the screen.
INSUFFICIENT FUEL TO COMPLETE JUMP SEQUENCE.
Now what do we do, I thought. I have a suicidal maniac on board and a war going on outside, and even if I don't fire on them, I'll probably get hit by accident.
"Who are they?" I asked. I couldn't pick the markings: they weren't the Spiral Arm Empire or the Industrial Confederacy, and if they were pirates they wouldn't have such good ships as the ones which had just flown past me.
"It is a holy war," replied Vance Mara. "The O'Ryan Interdenominational Army were ambushed by the Sons and Daughters of Gaia Jihad Group."
The Gaians were an interesting group. Pretty much the exact opposite of the Spacer philosophy, they very rarely left the safety of their planet of origin, except on special dispensation from their leader. The Jihad Group, the Gaian's private army, were just another section of the congregation, like the Praise Group or the Mothers and Toddlers, except they tended to fly fast expensive space ships with big guns and kill anyone they found in space. This area of space did not feel like a good place to stay, but unless I could get to the station to refuel we wouldn't be leaving in less than a thousand pieces.
"Any ideas Shell?"
NO, replied Shell on the screen. WELL ONE, BUT YOU WON'T LIKE IT.
"Anything would be good. Preferably before we get blown to little bits."
USE THE DISTRESS BEACON TO SEND OUT A GENERAL DISTRESS CALL
"And bring every pirate to this area of space for miles around, not a good idea Shell. You know what we're carrying."
THE RELIGIOUS CULTS WILL HAVE TO COPE WITH THE PIRATES AND WILL BE TOO BUSY TO WATCH WHAT YOU ARE DOING. AT LEAST WE CAN GET TO THE STATION.
"Well if it's the only option..." and I was pretty sure that it was, as I avoided another dog fight that was coming our way.
I activated the distress beacon and made the call. Then I moved out of the way of the jump gate. I certainly did not want to get caught in the cross fire. This was the first time that I had ever hoped a pirate would turn up. I waited. And then we waited again. All the time dodging the stray shots which found us out on the rim of the sphere of battle. I kept on thinking that they must surely be getting tired by now of blowing each other up, but they kept on going.
Finally, the jump gate leapt into action and through it came the blood red hull of a pirate ship. It was daubed with reassuringly pirate-like slogans, "Sons of the Hell Hounds", "Unnatural Born Killers", "Die Space Scum", that kind of thing. It was going too fast out of the jump gate to realise that it had just flown into the most vicious holy war this side of Alpha Centauri. Not that I thought it would leave. A good war is one of the best places to pick up salvage and scrap. So the pirate ship waded in with guns blazing, it was a lot bigger than the one man fighters that the cults were using and they didn't really stand much of a chance against it.
With our plan put into action, I made use of the diversion we had created and headed for the station. Which all went well until we got nearer the station and then that began to fire on us too.
"Shell, I don't suppose you managed to get the radio working?"
NO, WE NEED A SHIPYARD TO CARRY OUT THE REPAIRS, replied Shell.
Then I had a thought. "Does your suit have a radio?" I asked Vance Mara.
"Yes," he replied rather gloomily, probably upset that we hadn't been killed yet.
"Well, get it out and try radioing the station."
Grudgingly he did what I asked and in the end did a good job of convincing them that we were harmless and not out to kill everyone on the station. They knew who Vance Mara was and invited us to dock. They were very happy that he was back safe and sound. This seemed like the first break that we had had since I had entered the system.
As we were docking the jump gate opened again and this time it wasn't a pirate that was coming to join the fight. The one thing I didn't want to see in the whole galaxy had turned up on my very doorstep, the police. The sleek black ships were edging their way through the hoards of fighting ships. They disabled the weapons and engines of any ships which wouldn't stand down. The pirates picked this moment to leave, wisely, I thought. I would have done the same if I had been able to but unfortunately it would be a while before my ship was ready to leave. There were a few things to be repaired on the ship which just couldn't wait until the next space port, the radio was one of them. I didn't have much in the hold to sell to the spacers, they didn't want the alcohol that I was mainly carrying, but at least I had a couple of tons of fruit that I could offload on them. They didn't see much fresh food out here on the Edge, although fresh was comparative in this case as it was actually frozen for the journey.
I did have one thing that I knew they would want badly. The only problem was that it wasn't for them, and if I gave it to them I would earn their undying gratitude but I might make some powerful enemies. Those enemies might even consider putting out a contract on me. But I was watching the police ships coming closer to the station; it wouldn't be long before they had finished out there and would want to come in. Them they would check every ship in the docks and discover me. Just my luck to be here on the one day the police decide to break up the fight, nine times out of ten they wouldn't have bothered with anything this far out.
On balance, I decided I would rather get out of this situation in the here and now and worry about the rest later. I asked to be put in touch with the leader of the religious community and they gave me a direct line to Vance Mara.
"You're their leader?" I asked, slightly surprised.
"Yes," he replied. "hence the community's happiness at my return. You see, I didn't just float off."
"I didn't really think you had," I replied.
"I was ambushed by the Sons and Daughters of Gaia whilst meditating and dumped where you found me. That precipitated the battle you saw."
"I thought that it was probably something like that. I was hanging around in that area for a reason, I'm hiding out from the police and that battle has brought them right to my door. I need to get rid of an item and I think it is an item you would like to possess."
"Lars, we are a religious community, we do not have many wants or needs."
"Come down to the ship, I'll show you what it is and then you'll understand."
I knew there was only one of these in known space, it was unique, and the leader of O'Ryan's Belt would know it too. They had been looking for it as well, but I had found it. Tucked away in a dusty old museum on Dinack's World. The holy grail of the spacers. So, knowing that I could get a good price for it from my clients that would pay for my inconvenience, I stole it. My clients were Cassiopeia's Throne, another Space Adventism cult, rather more planet based than the others.
It wasn't much to look at, just a wooden, varnished box with a strange design on the top, all swirls and circles. The lid was split in the middle and folded down on a hinge on each side. It had an elaborate catch on the top which I had taken ages to work out how to undo. When Vance Mara saw it his eyes lit up.
"Is it the real thing?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied and undid the catch. I folded back the lid and out of the box sprang the light of the universe. It spun in the air, particles of light and shadow, bright dust and pure darkness. It was a god's eye view of the universe, perfect in every detail, and therefore of sacred significance to the spacers who worshipped the universe itself. No one knew where it came from but it had turned up on some planet, it was adopted as an emblem by the spacers, been stolen later and never found again. Until now.
We negotiated price but Vance Mara knew he had the advantage. I couldn't leave with it and not be arrested by the waiting police. He wanted it desperately, so at least I had some bargaining power, that if I left with and was arrested he would never see it again. Eventually we settled on a sum of money and a complete service for my ship. This made me happier, even though I knew my original clients would have paid more, at least I would leave this station a free man.
The police were curious about my ship. Apparently one just like it had blasted off from Dinack's World without permission to take off. An unfortunate necessity since I was being chased by the ground based counterparts of the space police, having just set off the alarm in the museum, which had turned out to be a lot more sophisticated than it looked. But the police couldn't prove anything, there were hundreds of ships like mine. Just because I'd been on Dinack's World didn't mean I was the robber, and I reckoned they would have a hard time placing me on Dinack's World. The police didn't try to question me too thoroughly, the spacers stuck up for me. The last thing the police wanted was to antagonise the religious groups, because if one of them cried persecution then the rest would begin to air their grievances. I was a guest of the O'Ryan's Belt Space Adventism community until my ship was repaired. It was funny, but once I'd been around the spacers for a while and seen what they were all about, their religion didn't seem as strange as I had first thought. I was more interested in the stuff that outsiders never got to see, like the private army they were training up. After the battle I witnessed on my arrival, it gave me comfort to think they had some protection from the universe that they worshipped. When Shell was repaired and it was time to go I was almost sorry to leave.
Vance Mara was there to see me take off. "Just remember," he said, "that if you ever need a refuge, we will be here for you."
"Thanks Vance," I said "but I don't expect to be back this way for some time."
Vance Mara nodded, understanding what I hadn't said. I didn't ever intend to come back this way again. I boarded my ship and left the station, watching it recede in my rear view camera. I headed for the jump gate. I programmed in the course for Alurobad, a star not too far away but far enough to get me out of the general area.
JUMP CO-ORDINATES CONFIRMED, replied Shell. We zipped through the jump gate and arrived at Alurobad Orbital. I set about trying to find a buyer for my cargo on the bulletin board. I scanned the list and something caught my eye.
"Retirement party: a retirement party is being planned for Lars Anderson the trader of Kaldon system. Guests invited to bring a fitting end to his career."
I knew what that meant. Anyone and everyone out to make a quick few credits would be out for my head. What they didn't realise was that Lars Anderson of Kaldon was already dead and he wasn't going to hang around on the Edge waiting to be hit. Lars Anderson (deceased) was heading for the core as soon as possible.
© Thalia Drogna, September 2000
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