Log 1 Matter | Antimatter (5 page)

“Life systems orbs, a bit like the Cardinal
Unit but bigger. They reckon they number in the zillions but—”

Jamie laughed.

“—okay, billions. We don’t know if they live
on the outside or inside or both of big arse balls. Weird huh?
Anyway”—Marc sat up—“that’s the organic structure of species
Artyris B. I’ll set you up and you can begin work.”

Great. Jamie already knew about the Vakar.
Did the Aryan Military know and were testing him, or was it a
coincidence? As it turned out, his work was stacking lab equipment
and packing it away.

Over lunch one day, with his back to the wall
where he could study the crew, Jamie said to Marc, “No one here
seems to … fraternize.” He was slightly annoyed it might be because
of him.

“You’re kidding, right? Didn’t you read the
rules?”

“Yeah.” Jamie tried to control the heat
rising so his cheeks wouldn’t color. He hadn’t read those ‘rules’.
That told him something he had to address around the time he sorted
out his skewed perspective that the whole crew ‘knew’ about him. He
almost laughed. “No, not about relationships. I had no intentions
of getting involved.” It sounded lame but Marc seemed to accept
it.

“It’s simple enough. Don’t get involved with
anyone, don’t look at them funny, and don’t wank in your rack
thinking of anyone… The usual ‘you are a robot’ shit.”

Jamie laughed.

“That’s why we get a lot of planet
downtime.”

“Ah.”

“Jamie!”

He turned to see Jen, who was smiling,
leaning into the mess hall. “We’re all going planet side for some
Avatara play. Want to join us?”

Jamie nodded. “Sure.”

Her excitement was contagious. “Hurry up
then. There’s one shuttle left and I’ve saved you a spot.”

“Thanks.” He got up and glanced at Marc.

Jen stepped over the hatch rim and started
pulling at his arm. “Come on, Marc never comes.”

He wondered why but then he didn’t actually
know what Avatara fun was for MMBs.

“I’ll pack up your tray.” Marc winked. “You’d
better go.”

Jamie headed down to the main hangar bay and
sat in the shuttle next to Jen, feeling comfortable when her elbow
nudged against his as she fidgeted with her harness. The hatch
sealed and they waited for sealing, undocking, and the surge as
they were shoved away from the Repco. The trip down was boring but
as he stepped onto the rocky ground, with sparse shrubs, they
walked over and Jamie saw they were on a cliff, the air was crisp,
the winds up. Jamie stared as those around him started stripping
off to their underpants. Most of the females wore some kind of
fitting chest plate.

“Come on, Jamie!” Jen laughed at him as wings
suddenly burst from her back and she launched into the air by
running and jumping off the cliff. Jamie ran to the edge and stared
and more were following. He stripped off, had to push a little, and
triggered his wings to burst from his back.

“Nice wings, Jamie.”

He couldn’t make out who yelled but there
were only a few left out of the thirty-six who had been undressing.
It looked like two were under instruction and just practiced how to
run, launch and skim along the plateau. He flapped and then ran,
launching himself, allowing the current to help direct his path.
Someone experienced had their wings folded back and dived past him
screaming in sheer joy. Jamie adjusted his feathers and sailed with
a few others around with the currents.

It had been too long since he had flown and
never had he flown with others of his kind, the Avatara Venararii,
the ones with wings. They were the mortal-long, most would live for
two thousand years. Their brethren, the mortal-short, the Avatara
Modernus, had no wings and lived five hundred years less. Wings
were generally eye color so his were dark grey. But there were
shades and tints of greens, blues, browns, grey, hazels and even
one white. The sky was clear and full of laughing, screaming, and
acrobats. For over an hour they flew until he spotted a few
returning. He flapped to increase his altitude, banked left and
landed with just a few steps until he stopped, neatly folding his
wings in at the same time. He found his clothes pile, drew on his
pants and looked back over the region they had flown over. The view
was magnificent even from where he stood on the top of the butte.
Jen walked over to him and pulled on her top. He averted his eyes,
seeing her chest plate was off, and then watched as she yanked out
her long hair. “Ready for something to eat?”

She eyed off his lean body with interest and
for the first time he felt comfortable about that. He pulled on his
own top with a smile.

“Starving.”

Nodding, she smiled. “Captain’s got a feast
for us just down the other side of those boulders.” She began to
stride past the shuttles, and down a hill where others walked and
chatted. He was joined by a few of the crew and listened to the
chatter, feeling easy in himself for a change. These were his
people, the Eighth Race, but they were at the top of the Eighth
Race in terms of matter and energy levels, but still much lower
than the lowest Superor, the Fourth-Gen. A little bit of tribal
pride filled his heart. But for Jamie the whole Earth experiment
marred their cultural values despite the fact that the Avatara
depended on the results for a new classification. They wanted to
rule the Eighth Race as Fifth-Gens. But as Jamie found out more
secrets, what would he find out about Earth? How much of what the
media presented was accurate?

“Hey Jamie. We’ve got some wood for you!”

A few Avatara ran up to him and he studied
the selection. They were all good pieces. “We’ve cleared it with
Karr after that last debacle with the lice.”

Jen laughed. “At least it didn’t ruin her
safety rating!”

***

He managed his mission with no problems and
Marc said they were both due for specialized training. He stayed on
board for a couple of years before being assigned to other rangers,
space stations, planet installations, and satellites’ domed
facilities. Most of the crew, and that included Karr, had received
something from Jamie over the years. He had also made Karr a
farewell gift. She stared at the carving, turned it this way and
that. Jamie stood stiff and waited until the laughter peeled
out.

“It’s been a pleasure having you on board,
Jamie. I don’t think I’ll display this wood louse on my mantel but
give it to my son. He’s into bugs.”

“Thank you, Captain—” Jamie relaxed “—for
everything.”

Their eyes met and she smiled before she
turned back to command. Having women in command and taking orders
no longer bothered him. Their light mental brushes were almost
welcome. He handled flirting better as time went on, more prevalent
in the civilian institutions he had to work in. Now he had more
training, more tests, and more missions.

Iota Military Location Cradle

By one hundred and seventeen, he was accepted into
black operations. He took a turn at leadership and training, at
which time he finally received his new codename: “Spook”.

He was the youngest ever accepted and he
hadn’t heard from Marc in a few years except to hear he had almost
finished his training. For eighty years, he worked for specific
warlords, Aryan Military Specialists, government, various
privateers, and special services on several planets around the
Horizon. He felt as though he’d had missions on every planet in the
Horizon; if not every planet, he had at least been to every single
station, of which there were thirty-six universes. He had been to
most galactic systems.

Mostly he travelled, planned missions,
recruited, and modified, while the actual mission took little time.
His handler often asked what he’d heard, smelled, seen, felt, and
tasted after each mission. His senses were sensitive to many
things. The only time he heard of the Three Empires and Grands
again was when his handler told him to listen and observe. It was
the best kept secret; he heard nothing.

When it was time for his final test, he was
already assigned to Xoria Prime. He had to cross two planets in two
different stations without being detected. He had three months,
which meant standard ranger HaV was out. Aside from the intercepts
on most space elevators, HaV was how all Aryans travelled. The
science and technology was complex. Jamie laughed and thought about
the operatives HaV cartoon they had to watch.

“Now, geniuses, most of you ignore, get
stomachaches or headaches thinking about this stuff, but you have
to understand it. HaV is Horizontal and Vertical Dimensional Travel
but”—their instructor sat on the desk with one knee bent and a
smirk on his face—“just try to think of it like gophers… You jump
in a ranger, travel horizontally along normal space to coordinates
1, you make a hole and drop, that is the vertical move, the hole
closes up overhead, and once you reach coordinates 2, you stop and
move along that dimension, called the Klados, horizontally, to
coordinates 3…” While he talked, the cartoon was showing gopher
creatures being generally goofy. “…there is nothing random about
HaV, it is carefully mapped and all rangers have to submit ranger
plans with routes. Traffic control is stringent. While the Aryan
Space Service registers all rangers and controls mapping, it is the
kings in each universe—or station depending on what you like to
use—who police space. Don’t fuck this up, we won’t come and save
you. Got it?”

“Got it, sir!” Behind him a gopher was in
jail crying but drew a HaV portal and escaped.

Jamie scratched his head, thinking.

An inter-station HaV trip on a ranger would
take nine months and he had licenses for several small and medium
rangers. What he needed to do was obtain access to a specialized
planet transportal, which used the HaV route as well, and the time
for his trip would sit in the nine hours of hell range. There were
only two public depots on Xoria Prime, which was a high tech
civilization in Avalon. Avalon was ruled by the First Regional
Queen Freda and she had exceptional security but had a soft spot
for the Tal Monks. The other public transportal was on Ocelana, in
the Talaria Station, ruled by Tenth Regional Queen Camila. Both
queens were told to keep an eye on the competitors. To be fair,
neither of those stations were supported by warlords, however, the
kings attached to those systems were keen to test their warriors
for their ability to run interference—subtle like.

They had a week to make preparations and were
allowed to access—with some limits—the resources that would be at
their disposal on a mission. The other requirement was that they
had to employ other recruits so they could practice their
specialties. Jamie considered all his acquired skills, including
his hobbies—such as kayaking—and formulated a plan of sorts. It was
a start anyway.

After a few days of planning he headed to
logistics. “I’ll take a Ranger Marshal badge made up to these
specifications,”—he pointed to his tablet notes—“a mimic module,
and three months’ worth of ration pack coupons.”

The logistics member stared at him. “Is that
it?”

He nodded. No need to give anyone an idea of
how long he was going to take, let them think he needed the entire
three months. The other recruits wouldn’t volunteer information but
if asked a direct question they could decide to release information
in exchange for other information. He’d been building up favors and
owes on favors during the course by doing and owing favors, but
never intended to use them. He knew that alone would throw some of
them who would have included “what Jamie can give me” and “what
might Jamie want that I can exchange something for”. He grinned to
himself.

After planning, he ran through a few
scenarios and felt he’d done all he could do. He stood with a small
bag of items, his coupons, and few free credits. His handler
visited, sitting on his single bed, and handed him the item he had
to be custodian of, delivered unopened and safe. He was handed a
pad and pen. Jamie stared at them.

“You can move out any time from the moment
the door closes after I leave but I expect you out of the room by
morning. Record your spotters and so on—you know the drill. Just
make sure you record on this pad with this pen.”

“Yes, sir.” Jamie watched the door close,
wondering why his handler didn’t ask Jamie why he was still in his
cell. After all this time he didn’t know what the name of his
handler was. Theirs was not a relationship, it was an arrangement,
one that Jamie appreciated over the years. He stared at the pen and
pad again, how retro!

He checked his bag and waited for dark.

It wasn’t just him being tested; others were
tested at the same time, the same test. They couldn’t ally but they
could get in each other’s way. Jamie had no time for that nonsense
so he changed his entire MO. He snuck out via the underground
tunnel system. They weren’t allowed to use any Aryan Military
technology and were aware that they were watched with that
technology, security monitors and such like. If they were picked up
in transit, unless they were in disguise, they’d get points
deducted.

Jamie ran to the ranger hangar and boarded a
ranger due for take-off shortly. It was a low security ranger,
didn’t even fly beyond the upper atmosphere and only had the
minimal checks. There were only two columns with ten rows and a
gangway down the middle. He sat on a seat halfway down, pretending
that he had boarded with the other passengers, showing a fake
security badge. The attendant scanned it and gave him a slight nod.
Ranger Marshal Samson was conducting safety checks. Since his badge
showed ‘AM-R’ it told the attendants it was a random check. They
treated him like any other passenger and his name appeared on the
flight listing. Jamie enjoyed a meal, stretched out his long legs,
and thought ahead to the next move. He’d made a slight
miscalculation because he couldn’t doze off as the “marshal”.